Meadowcity (24 page)

Chapter Thirty One

Sylvia let Ember help her back to the safety of the woods, out of sight from the gatehouse.  She wouldn’t let the cub stay with its dead mother though, and bundled it up in her shirt, keeping a firm grip on its snout to keep it from nipping at her with those small but effective teeth.

Once they reached the cool shade of the trees, Sylvia stationed herself at the base of a tree, bracing herself against its trunk to lower herself to the ground.  She clenched the wolf pup to herself as Ember crouched down and peeled back her legging, cutting it away from her leg, where it had gruesomely fused with her burnt skin. 

The pup squirmed but finally gave up on biting her, for now.  It wriggled as she winced, and Ember began to rinse the burn with water she had collected.  The water both cooled and stung all at once.

“I wish I had some of Flint’s burn cream,” she muttered, eyes staring upwards away from the pain.

Ember looked up as she rinsed her hands with the remaining water. 

“Burn cream?”

“For his face.  The Healers in Meadowcity gave him some.”

Sylvia’s words came through teeth gritted.  Even the light breeze that wove through the trees burned like fire as it played across the wound.

“Oh, yes.  His face,” Ember said absently. “It got burned in the invasion.”

Sylvia clutched the cub to her chest.

“Do you think they took them back to Skycity?” Ember asked, rising to survey the forest and throwing a worried glance at the wolf at Sylvia’s chest.

Sylvia sighed. 

“Who knows.  Skycity has more secrets than Meadowcity has trees.”

She looked down at the pup, actively trying to ignore the pain in her leg.  It was going to be hard to move.  She looked down at her favorite pair of leggings, completely cut off at the knee—and looked away.

“I think we should follow them,” Ember said.

“No.”

She looked down at the cub, now biting at the hem of her shirt, wearing a hole in it.  She pushed him away, giving him a light rap on his muzzle.

“With my leg like this, we’ll be lucky if we can make it in a week to Meadowcity.”

Ember frowned, kicking at pine needles on the ground.

“Skycity is headed there next anyway.”

“How do you know?”

“They know we’ve been warned.  Greyling recognized me.”

A cracking branch brought both of their heads swiveling to the west, Sylvia’s heart jumping up her throat.

A treemouse darted around a tree, its bushy tail twitching.  The wolf pup struggled, trying to get free, but Sylvia’s arms clamped down on him.

She took a deep breath and went on. 

“We need to get going,” she said, angling her body to stand without putting any weight on her bad leg.

The wolf squirmed in her arm then, trying to make an escape, throwing her off balance.

“Woah,” Ember put an arm around her back and eased her to the ground.  She came around to face Sylvia. 

“I think we should stay here tonight,” giving a meaningful look at her leg.

Sylvia gritted her teeth.  It wasn’t often that someone told her what to do—and was right about it. 

“Fine.  But we’re heading for
Meadowcity
in the morning.”

Ember came down to Sylvia’s level and leaned against another tree.

“I’ll take first watch,” said Sylvia.  “I’ll see if I can get this little predator to sleep, and then you can take watch.”

Ember nodded, staring off in the distance. 

She must be thinking about Flint
, Sylvia thought, her own mind going to Ven.

We’ll get them back
, she thought. 
They’ve gone to all this trouble to make war.  There must be something they’re after.

*  *  *

Eyes closed, Sylvia rolled her sore neck, her hair tangling in the bark as she realized she was sitting upright against a tree.  All of yesterday’s events came streaming right back to her as she snapped her eyes open to see Ember sitting across from her, casually eating a small breadloaf.

Ember grinned at Sylvia, seeing her awake.

“Where did you get...”

Sylvia looked around at Ember, now surrounded by three very familiar packs, and a bow.

Ven’s bow, and Sylvia’s pack.

“Ember!” Sylvia exclaimed, “You can’t just go off and leave me here right outside the city like that!”

Ember managed to look slightly guilty, but then held out a second breadloaf to Sylvia, whose mouth watered.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten.

“And that’s my water container,” she snapped, seeing the redhead take a long swig out of it before handing it over.

“We needed the supplies,” she said shorty.

Sylvia bit into the breadloaf, ravenous, though angry.  She looked around their clearing and saw the wolf cub tethered to a tree a few paces away.

“And I got this for you,” she extended her hand to Sylvia, placing the wooden canister of burn cream in it.

Sylvia put down the bread and hastily twisted it open. 

Dipping her fingers in the jar, she scooped out a heaping portion of the cream.  She closed her eyes briefly as the cream soothed the angry burn.

Closing up the jar she looked back at Ember, who was grinning at her.

“Thank you.”

“I thought you’d need it for our journey.”

“Hand me my pack, will you?” Sylvia reached out to grab it from Ember.

She dug out a spare knife, since her long blade was lost in the last explosion.  Tucking this one away in her boot, she nodded at Ven’s bow. 

“Do you know how to use one of those?”

Ember ran her hand along its smooth edge. 

“I’ve had some practice.”

Sylvia took another swig of water out of her canister, secretly glad to have her pack back, even though Ember had left her.  She had lost things on the trail before—falling down a gorge, slipping by the river once—but this time, it was far more important.

Stuffing the last bit of her bread into her mouth, she stood, putting all of her weight on her good leg.  Slowly she tested her left leg with a little weight.  It burned dully, but the cream had immediately soothed most of the pain.

Hefting her pack to her shoulders, she searched the clearing for a good walking stick.  Ember bent down to pick up a good sized branch and held it out to her.

Sylvia took it and began to clean up the rough edges with her knife.  She watched as Ember untied the wolf cub from the tree, throwing it the last bit of her bread.  He tried to nip at her ankles but she made a sharp noise at him and he shied away. 

Sylvia chuckled.  She never imagined that she would be taking a wolf as a pet.

No, maybe more like a weapon
. 

The Scouts used them as such, and it was what she intended to do.  If she trained it, it could protect her in the woods from the others—wild or trained.  Her chat with Ven had seemed so silly at the time, but now that they knew Skycity had been doing it all along, it made sense.  She wondered how long there had been trained beasts roaming the wilds, how many of them had attacked Riders.

Sylvia took note of the sun’s position and where she thought Riftcity lay, and they struck out for Meadowcity. The walking stick helped keep the weight off her bad leg, but the cream wasn’t able to dull all of the pain.  They would take no trails Sylvia knew of—although she doubted there would be too many Scouts to spare now that the war was escalating so quickly.

Sylvia couldn’t imagine Skycity having a large army, but it would appear that way. 
What could Greyling have said to convince anyone to join?
  Sylvia was sure he was the reason for all of this.

Their walk was quiet.  Sylvia felt awkward traveling with Ember, whom she barely knew.  The absence of Ven and Flint seemed almost audible to her.  It was as if she was waiting for Flint to say something stupid.

“Ever been outside Riftcity before?” she said, trying to strike up some sort of conversation.

“Never,” Ember said.  “There’s a lot more trees than I expected.”

Sylvia chuckled.  “Well, there’s plenty in Meadowcity, too.”

“How do you know where you’re going?”

Sylvia shrugged.  “I’ve been journeying for so many seasons now, I just know.  We can’t take any real trails though.”

“So which way is Meadowcity?”

Sylvia looked up at the sun’s position, Ember walking beside her. 

“East,” she said, pointing ahead.

“So Skycity’s north?” Ember said, pointing left.

“Being kind of obvious, aren’t you?  You’re not going to leave me in the middle of the night and sneak off to Skycity.”

Ember’s feet slapped on the pine needles just as loudly as Flint’s had.

“And quit walking so loudly.”

“I just think we’d be able to find out what they’re doing, if we go there.”

Sylvia stopped and turned.

“No.  We’re not even talking about this.”

“Yes we are!” Ember followed as Sylvia’s limp was becoming more noticeable.  It wasn’t hard to keep up.

“You, Ven and Flint were able to sneak into Riftcity—with just the two of us, we could get into Skycity and figure out what’s going on.  I bet they took Ven and Flint there—where else would they hold them?”

“We don’t even know that’s where they went!  What if they’re heading for Meadowcity?  I’m not going to let them rip it apart.  Before I can get there anyway.”

They were climbing a steep incline now, Sylvia’s walking stick doing much of the work against her bad leg.  Ember trailed behind her, weighted down with two packs and the bow.

“They’ve got Ven and Flint,” her fist clenched around the stick in her hand, “but why?  And what the
hell
is their plan anyway?”

She was sweating now, the sun beating down on them the more they climbed the rise.

“They’ve attacked your city, taken your people and began mining the stone—but what’s the point?”

Ember remained silent behind her.  Sylvia had to look back to see that she was still following.  The girl was holding the wolf’s tether in one hand, staring down at the ground before her.

Sylvia stopped.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Chapter Thirty Two
 

Sorin ground his teeth as he listened to his aide read over the notes from the council meeting he had missed.  They sat alone in the meeting room at the long table, though his mind was anywhere but.

Seascape was dangerous.  He had to do something about it.  This time he would involve the city, maybe all of Arcera.  He couldn’t do it alone.

Bobbing his foot under the table he half listened as he skimmed the notes and the aide read on, commenting on the line items as he went.

He had been home for a day already but had only seen Savannah briefly this morning.  She had pulled him into a tight embrace, her clean silky scent wafting over him as his hand ran down her hair.

He was itching to tell her about Seascape, Lady Blackwater, the train, everything.  He was starting to feel that keeping so much from her was like lying to her.  So, tonight, they were meeting for dinner at his villa.  He was going to tell her.

* * *

Several hours later, Sorin stood on his rooftop terrace, holding a glass of wine out to Savannah, who was elegantly dressed in a cream colored gown, adorned with blue stitching.  He admired her hair, swept up into curls at the top of her head, until it reminded him of Lady Blackwater, and he looked away.

They had eaten a full dinner on the terrace in the light of the setting sun, and now they leaned against the wooden railing watching the stars wink into existence.

The comfortable silence had stretched too long, to the point where he must say something.  He had to tell her.  So far they had only spoken of Riftcity, and his laughably boring trip there, and her days copying prose at the book shop.

“Savannah,” he said, and her eyes met his, miniature stars reflected there.

“These past months with you have been wonderful, and well...”

Her lips parted, eyes expectant.

“I feel as if I’ve been lying to you,” he looked away into the dark mountainside.  “I’ve kept something from you.”

Risking a look, he saw her face was crestfallen.

Committed now, he continued, words falling out in a tumble, “Since Summer’s End, we’ve been searching for another city—Falx brought back this book—and we
found it
. I know it sounds strange, but I went there—just before Riftcity.”

Quite suddenly he noticed tears streaming down her face, wet paths drawn down to her delicate jaw.  He reached out a hand to her cheek, but she drew away, shaking her head.

“Sorin, I thought you—” she stopped, biting back more tears.  She shook her head.  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Sorin jerked his hand back. 
She didn’t believe him
? 

“Is that what you’ve been doing with those men, the Scouts?  I thought...  Never mind.”

It was as if a wall descended, as she closed herself off to him. 

He tried to reach out, and grab her hands, but she jerked away.  He cringed, and watched her give him a sad smile.

“Do what you want,” she said into the mountain breeze.  “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks locked in your office—go chase your pretend city,” she spat, her cheeks starting to flush.  “I thought you were going to... But that’s over now.  I can see it’s over.”

“Savannah, please, listen,” he begged, following her as she took a few steps toward the staircase leading inside.  It was all falling apart so fast, just like in Seascape.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he pleaded, ducking in the stairwell after her.  Cheerful orbs of light lit the stairs as she whisked down them, gown flowing behind her.

“
It’s real!
” he shouted. 

But she had already disappeared through the front door of the villa.  He sank down to sit on the bottom step, cradling his head in his hands.  For some reason, Lady Blackwater’s face swam up in his mind.  This was all her fault.  He could have brought Savannah there to show her the city, but they were so selfish.

I thought you were going to...But that’s over now. 

She thought he was going to what?  His thoughts drifted to a tiny wooden box, forgotten in his desk drawer after the city had been discovered.  He thunked his head against the wall, leaving it there.  How could he have been so stupid?  She thought he was going to propose, which he
had
been, before he had undertaken that disastrous journey.

He lifted his head from the wall.  It wasn’t over yet.  Tomorrow.  She would see him.

*  *  *

But she refused.

Days passed and still nothing.  He called upon her at home, but her mother wouldn’t let him in, shaking her head sadly.

Meanwhile, Sorin had his hands full with the affairs of the city, piling up not only in his absence, but the weeks preceding.  It seemed it wasn’t just Savannah he had neglected.

He began to have nightmares about Lady Blackwater.  Sometimes, she stalked about her dais touching stones and bringing them to life, voices echoing out of them, echoing around the chamber.  More than once, she lunged out and jabbed a silver cylinder into Sorin’s ribs, bringing on shocking pain.  He woke up sweating, blinking furiously to rid himself of the dream.

A week had passed since Sorin’s dinner with Savannah.  He sat in his office, listening to Glaslyn go over notes for the day.

“—and Governor Gero’s arrival will time nicely with the presentation at the Library,” she concluded, looking up from her notepad.

Sorin jerked his head. 

“What—today?”

She squinted at him, as though not sure if he were serious.

“Yes,” she said slowly, looking back down at her paper, “this was the agreed upon date—he should be arriving this afternoon.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, giving himself a little shake, trying to rid himself of the blue and swirling silver before his eyes.

Glaslyn left, no doubt already knowing about him and Savannah, and cutting him some slack.  The lack of sleep was beginning to get to him.

So he went through the motions of greeting Meadowcity’s Governor, laughing and smiling, though his heart was empty. 

When this is over,
he thought
, I’ll get Savannah to talk to me. 
The visit would only last a few days. There would be a few parties, the two Cities would cement their friendship for another year, and Gero would be back off to his city in the woods.

*  *  *

The day came, and Sorin woke, knowing that the Governor had left in the very early morning with his Riders.  He was finally free to talk with Savannah. 

He would stop at the Hall on his way to her house, and get the ring.  Somehow, he would convince her to talk.

But when he got to the Hall, he noticed two aides muttering furiously to each other in a corridor, but they stopped as he drew near.  After reaching his office and retrieving the ring, he stopped in Glaslyn’s office.

She looked up at him with a strange emotion on her face—was it pity?  He furrowed his eyebrows—what was going on?

Glaslyn took a deep breath. 

“Sorin.  I don’t know if you’ve heard already, but—someone should tell you,” she said, looking at Sorin and then down again. 

“Savannah’s gone.  She left with the group for Meadowcity.”
 

*  *  *

Sorin didn’t remember walking back to his villa, but somehow he was there, standing on his terrace, pacing its length back and forth.

The surrounding mountains spread out before him, lush and green in the new spring, but a chill wind bit at his face, bringing moisture to his eyes.

It was unthinkable. 
Savannah.  Gone.

He felt the outline of the box in his pocket.  Flipping it open, he held the tiny ring in between two fingers, staring down at it.

Two lines of glass, one silver, one black, wove in and out of each other all the way around the ring.  It was so delicate in his fingers.

His heart wrenched. 

With a sharp intake of breath, he flung the ring over the railing, onto the mountain. 

It didn’t make a sound when it fell, but Sorin thought he could hear something inside him breaking.