Meadowcity (8 page)

Chapter Nine
 

As the sun began to reach a certain point in the sky, Sylvia started looking for a place for the group to spend the night.  The trail they had been following all day was not well worn; Sylvia had discovered this path only a few months ago on a journey to Riftcity.  When they had set out this morning, she had thought
the less likely traveled path, the better
.  The only others who trod this path were the very few large game animals in the woods.

In the city, they only had small game animals which were kept for food, like chickens and turkeys.  But it was the hunter’s job to venture outside the city and track down the larger animals, few and far between though they might be.  They would often spend several days in the wood tracking them, all the while evading the other hunters: the mountain lions and the wolves.  On a rare occasion, they would bring down a wolf or lion, but food was food, especially if it was trying to kill you first.

Ven had been very calm in the woods all day; his eyes were sharp on their surroundings, no doubt looking for signs of danger.  Flint, on the other hand, was not used to spending any amount of time in the wood, and was starting to look more and more nervous each hour they traveled.  Sylvia knew the only time he had spent in the wood was his journey to Meadowcity, and that had been in a fog: confused, injured, and just trying to get help.  Sylvia was worried he might put them at risk here in the forest and panic. 

Sylvia had traveled with others before—escorting them to the other Cities for apprenticeship.  It wasn’t the most common journey she made, but it always paid very well.  If someone needed to travel into the wilds, they wanted a Rider that would protect them with their life.

“Stop scuffing your boots Flint,” she said.  “You’re making too much noise.”

“Sorry,” he grumbled. 

He looked rather tired.  Sylvia could see a dark shade under his eyes, and the burn he sustained from the fires gleamed bright red on his pale face.

Feeling a twinge of guilt at his injured state, Sylvia put up a hand and said, “Never mind.  Why don’t we stop here?  I’ll do a circle and pick a spot to sleep the night.”

Immediately Flint found a rock and sat down. 
“But it’s not even close to getting dark out,” he said, opening his pack and taking out a sleek wooden water canister, clearly made in Meadowcity. 

“It’s almost dusk,” Sylvia said bluntly. 

Then, remembering that Flint wouldn’t know why that was important, she continued, “That’s when they start hunting.”

Flint took an enormous gulp out of his water canister, almost spilling it down his front. 
Sylvia continued, “Dawn and dusk—sunrise and sunset, that’s when they’re out.  Stalking prey.”

Flint looked around at the area where they had stopped. 
“What about a big tree, why don’t we sleep up there?” he said, pointing to an enormous tree just near a group of boulders.

“Because they can climb trees much better than you can—and do you want to fall out of a tree in the middle of the night?” Sylvia said, unable to help herself. 

Normally, those she took on journeys knew better than to question her judgment, or make such stupid suggestions.

As Ven settled his pack on the ground, he rubbed his shoulders and said, “Actually, they don’t even need to climb, they can just jump.”

“Alright, alright,” Flint said.  “I’m sorry, I know you do this for a living,” he muttered at Sylvia.

Sylvia nodded.  She knew Flint hadn’t spent any time in the woods, but she felt like he was just trying to be irritating for the fun of it. 

She set down her shoulder pack and said, “It’s alright.  Let’s set up over there,” pointing to a scattering of several large boulders, which would make an excellent wall to camp against. 

Sylvia, Ven and Flint made their way over.  As always, Sylvia’s head swiveled around keeping a sharp eye on the surrounding area.  The sandy colored soil here would camouflage a mountain lion’s tan colored coat quite well.

The good part of traveling with others was that there was strength in numbers against the predators of the forest.  Sylvia was actually much safer traveling with Ven and Flint, even if Flint wasn’t the most knowledgeable traveling companion.  Though if it came down to a fight, Flint would be a huge liability.  Sylvia knew Ven could handle himself.

Sylvia reached the boulder grouping and set her pack down against one of the large rocks.  She began searching for kindling to start a fire, more for protection and comfort than anything.  Their food provisions were small, heavy grained foods that filled you up—but didn’t take up a lot of space in your pack—so they didn’t need the fire to cook on.  Ven had also said he wouldn’t mind taking down some fresh game, if they came across any.

She moved around the campsite in a wide circle, studying the area for any signs of lions living in this area.  As she walked, she gathered some dry grasses to use for kindling.  There was a lot of brush and low bushes in this area, and she had a good look around before returning to their campsite.  She didn’t want any surprises in the night.

Ven and Flint had begun to gather wood in her absence, and already had a good pile started.  Sylvia chose the small sticks and branches first as she built up a decent sized fire.  From her pack she removed a hard, sleek glass case which held one of her most valuable possessions, her firestarter.  A thick wire held together two glass rods, each about the size of a finger.  When struck together, they emitted heavy red sparks that would start a fire quite easily.  One rod was very dark, almost black, and the other, entirely clear.  She had purchased them with her first year’s earnings after becoming a Rider, and it was well worth its exorbitant cost.  It worked every time—and she never had to suffer another cold night on the trail because she couldn’t get a fire started.

Carefully she removed the firestarter from the padding in the case, being sure not to touch the rods together accidentally.  Positioning them directly above the tinder, she struck them together once.  Big red sparks flew down and immediately the clump of dry grass caught fire.  Very carefully, she set aside the firestarter and picked up the lit tinder, cradling it and bringing it slowly to the spot she had created for it in the fire pit, gently blowing on it to keep it alive.  After settling it in the heart of the fire pit, she selected some small sticks from the wood pile and stuck them on top of the tiny flames.

Concentrating on building her fire, she didn’t see Flint pick up her firestarter. 

“Wow, very nice,” he said. 

Sylvia nearly toppled the fire as she was placing a log onto it.

Ven, apprehension in his voice, said, “Careful now, or you’ll have another burn to match the one on your face.”

“Hey, fire is something I do know about, okay?” Flint said, sounding proud. 

Sylvia looked up from the fire; Flint held the firestarter carefully as he examined it, clearly making sure not to touch the rods together. 

“This is very good work.  Lightcity?”

Sylvia nodded as she accepted it back from Flint, and returned it to its padded case.

“There’s nothing like glasstech from Lightcity,” she said. 

The few glass shops in Meadowcity were respectable, but nowhere near as good as Lightcity.

The sun was slipping fast into the hills as they sat by the fire, relieved to have a rest from the day’s walking.  At this pace, they would make it to Riftcity in four more days.  Sylvia wondered what it would look like now, after the attack.

Ven’s thoughts were clearly on the same topic when he said, “So what’s Riftcity like?” 

He sat with his back to one of the boulders, picking apart a small, dark loaf of bread. 

Sylvia stood from the fire, the thicker pieces of wood now cracking and popping with heat.  She went to sit by one of the boulders, and took out her own dinner.  Her mother had made her provisions for her, as usual, and she smiled as she bit into the dense bread.  It was loaded with nuts and seeds, heavy with protein and grains.  She got out her water canister and took a sip to wash it down.

Flint began to speak as he took his own food out of his pack.  Sylvia briefly wondered who had given him provisions—Ell maybe. 

“Well, we live in villas carved out of the rock face—there’s two sides facing each other,” he held his hands out facing each other in a V; directing all of this to Ven, since Sylvia had obviously been there before.

“There’s stairways and paths carved out to get from place to place, and bridges connecting the two faces.  I expect the bridges will be damaged the most from the explosions—there might not be a way to get from East to West.  The entrance to the city is the Great Staircase—you’ve heard the story—carved out by Kilis himself when he founded the City all those years ago.  It’s amazing—the first step at the top is about as wide as one person, but they get wider as you go down.  The bottom step is almost as wide as that tree is tall,” he said, pointing to a good sized pine tree outside their camp. 

Sylvia could hear the pride in his voice, almost as if Flint had carved the staircase himself.

“Then once you’re at the bottom, it splits into two paths—one for East and one for West.  The bottom of the steps is where the rift really starts—they had to stop carving steps, right? So that’s where the rock’s been split, and the two faces meet up.” 

Flint took a big bite out of his bread loaf.

“And you escaped through a back entrance?” Sylvia asked.

“Yeah,” he said, still chewing. 

He swallowed. “I don’t know anyone else who has a tunnel exit, but my family’s been living in that villa for as long as anyone can remember.  It went on and on until it came out in some woods east of the city.”

Ven seemed to be struggling with a thought, and he finally said, “Has anyone ever fallen off the path?”

Sylvia smiled and Flint laughed good-naturedly. 

“No, you don’t have to worry about falling—there’s low walls that run along the side of the paths.”

Ven grinned. 

“Good.” 

He brushed crumbs from his hands, “I don’t want to go falling to my death in some far off city.”

They chuckled, but Sylvia couldn’t help but think about the other things they had to fear—the people from Skycity, and their firebombs.  With a pang, Sylvia remembered the fate of Flint’s father, and stopped laughing.

A thought flashed across Flint’s face, and he started digging in his shoulder pack. Finally, he drew out a small wooden canister, which turned out to hold some cream for his burn.  He began to put it on the burn and his features relaxed, looking like a whole different person as it immediately soothed his wound.

“Forgot that Healer gave me this,” he said as he twisted the wooden lid back on, leaning his head against the rock and looking much more relaxed than before. 

“She your girlfriend, Ven?”

“Who?” Ven said, his eyes darting to Sylvia and away.

“The Healer.  What’s her name—Caylee.”

“Not a chance.”

“She certainly talked about you a lot,” Flint said, grinning.  “That, and she wanted to know what you three were up to last night, meeting with me in secrecy.”

Sylvia grinned as well, she thought Caylee was sweet on Ven, but he didn’t seem to want anything to do with her.

“Well of course she was curious.  The whole city wanted to know why you showed up at our gate all burned and wounded.  Your city’s not like that?  Meadowcity lives on gossip.”

Flint shrugged. 

“I guess if a stranger showed up like I did, they’d be pretty curious.” 

He yawned hugely. 
“In Riftcity people like to tell stories—they’ll make up stories or read from books, if they have them.  Sometimes we’ll gather folks in the Citizen’s Hall and tell stories all night.  I guess that keeps us pretty entertained.  Ember and I would go together…” he looked off into the darkening woods, trailing off.

Sylvia couldn’t help but feel terrible for Flint, not even knowing if his older sister was still alive or not.  The whole prospect of Riftcity being attacked was so absurd. 
Why was Skycity even doing this?

“That back tunnel,” Sylvia said suddenly.  “Would you be able to find where it comes out—can we get back in that way?”