The Severed Tower (7 page)

“I told you, I have to go with my
friends
to the Tower.” She walked past him, back down the path through the old helicopters.

Ben followed silently. The die reappeared, dancing on his knuckles. “Hauling a non-Freebooter, a little girl, and a dog through the Core is suicide. And why the Tower anyway? If not with me, why with
them?
You don’t need to reach the Tower to destroy your artifact. The fourth ring Anvil is far enough for that.”

He was figuring things out, Mira knew, about to be lost in a stream of thoughts that would lead to one inevitable conclusion.

“The bounty hunter is a means to an end. He helps you survive, I get that, but there’s no reason for him to go to the Tower either. It must be because of the girl. She’s the only unknown.”

“Ben…” Mira said.

“Then there’s your and the bounty hunter’s eyes, clear of the Tone. He could be Heedless, there’s no way to know, but you definitely
aren’t.
”

“Ben, stop—”

“The girl probably factors into that, too … but
how?
”

“Ben…”

“There have been rumors, even here, of someone who destroyed the Assembly army at Midnight. Someone who stood on the dam and unleashed the waters. I hadn’t put much credence in it, it didn’t add up. But maybe—”

“
Stop!
” Mira yelled and quit walking. “Just …
stop.
”

Ben looked at her oddly. Studied her like she was new to him all over again, like she was a mystery. Ben liked mysteries. “What have you gotten yourself into, Mira?”

“Like I said…” She stared back at him, feeling the anger starting to build. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

They started walking again.

It was weird moving through the Crossroads in its abandoned state. Buildings and planes and structures she’d been in countless times before, for various reasons, now all stood empty and quiet. It was unsettling.

Ahead was the wingless fuselage of a colorfully painted old bomber. A B-17 Flying Fortress. She knew that because her grandfather had served on one in the Pacific.

Mira and Ben moved toward it. One of its doors hung open, a red
δ
spray-painted next to it, and they stepped inside. The walls had been rigged with old lockers from a ruined school or gymnasium, probably. Each was padlocked and decorated with different ornaments and pictures, making the room an arc of color all around the inside of the old airplane.

Mira moved to hers, a dull yellow one with
M.T.
written on the side in white paint. There were no pictures, just the writing. She’d never gotten around to properly decorating it, because there had always been other things to do. Now she wondered if this was the last time she would ever see it.

Ben watched as Mira dialed in the combination and opened her locker. There was only one thing inside, hanging from a rusted coat hook.

At first glance it looked like a big leather-bound book with a long shoulder strap woven into the binding, but it was actually much more than that. It was Mira’s Strange Lands Lexicon, a vital tool for any Freebooter. In fact, the possession of a Lexicon is what
made
you a Freebooter. Only those who completed the Librarian’s training and survived their final trial received one.

Lexicons were handed down from Freebooter to Freebooter, either collected after they were killed in the Strange Lands, or turned in before the Tone took them. As such, they represented the collective knowledge of every Freebooter who had owned it in the past. The loss of a Lexicon in the Strange Lands was nothing short of a tragedy.

Mira’s was bound in thick, faded red leather with frayed edges, worn smooth from years of use. Etched into the cover was a gray
δ
, and she ran her fingers around the outline of the symbol. Straps passed though tarnished brass buckles, keeping it sealed, and two metal locks on either side ensured that only she could open it. Inside were detailed maps of the Strange Lands’ rings and the Core—if any of its owners had made it that far—as well as writings, drawings, sketches and diagrams for the Anomalies that inhabited the different rings. No Freebooter went into the Strange Lands without their Lexicon, and being without one inside meant certain death.

Mira slid the thick padded strap over her head and let it rest on her shoulder and cross down her chest. The Lexicon rested comfortably against her hip. It felt good having it back. Without it, she’d always felt like a piece of her was missing.

“Are you serious about getting the bounty hunter and the little girl to the Tower?” Ben asked.

“Don’t forget the dog,” Mira said wryly. “He’s coming, too.”

Ben didn’t laugh, just waited for her answer.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Ben’s eyes thinned. “Just like you can’t explain your eyes.” He didn’t seem hurt so much as intrigued. “There’s never been anything you couldn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry.” Mira meant it.

“If I knew the answer, would I risk it?”

She looked up at him. It was a good question. She guessed the answer was yes. Rationally, getting Zoey to the Tower might be the most important thing anyone had ever done in the Strange Lands, but she still couldn’t risk telling him. Not yet. Or maybe she was still angry with him.

“I think so,” Mira finally answered.

Ben nodded. “Then you can all come with the expedition as far as Polestar, but after that it’s too dangerous. I can’t risk the lives of my team.”

Mira was surprised at the amount of relief she felt, even if Ben had only agreed to take them as far as Polestar. It meant
he
would lead,
he
would navigate the Anomalies,
he
would get them through. It wouldn’t fall to
her.

The moment Mira promised Zoey she would get them all to the Severed Tower, the faintest embers of an emotion had formed inside her. As they left Midnight City, the emotion began to build, growing like a cancer. It was fear, she knew. Fear of having to lead people through the Strange Lands. Like she told Holt, it was something she had done only once, and the memory of what happened still haunted her. The thought of failing Holt or Zoey in that place was petrifying.

“Thank you, Ben,” she said.

He just studied her intently. “Do you remember the first time we reached the edge of the Core? And you had to pull me back from going right in.”

“Yeah. It scared me.”

“I know. I don’t really feel fear. Everything to me is just … patterns and probabilities. Not much else. I see risk, but only enough to factor it into how I act. I don’t
feel
it.” He gently stroked her cheek with his fingers. “It’s one of the reasons I need you. You’re my … emotional side, Mira. You keep the other parts in check, you balance them. I know now, that’s why the Librarian decided what he did, why he made it so we could only go into the Strange Lands together.”

She was so accustomed to Ben’s touch, she almost didn’t notice it. In spite of everything, a part of her liked being close to him. It was familiar and comfortable. And that was something she hadn’t felt in awhile.

“Once we get to Polestar, you’ll come with me,” he continued. “To the Tower. Like we always talked about. You and I against the Core. We can beat it, Mira. I
know
it.”

He was right. They were a great team; they always had been. The Librarian had seen that. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t want to go with him, that the idea of casting off her burdens and promises wasn’t very attractive.

Why were things never simple?

5.
LINES

HOLT SAT ON TOP
of the thick wing of a ruined C-17 Globemaster, staring at the Crossroads around him as it emptied out, its residents all circling the drain of an uncertain future. As he did, he threw a handful of rocks, one at a time, at the back of an old air tanker, absently listening to the dull sound each made as it dented the rusted metal.

Zoey was asleep in the plane under him, Max lying next to her. The plane had been retrofitted into a visitors dorm, with three or four sleeping areas. Echo had stayed only long enough to point them to the beds, before he got pulled away into some new conflict. When Zoey fell asleep, Holt climbed up through an opening onto the roof.

The Crossroads was one of the more unique places he’d been, but it was still familiar. In a way, it was like every other place in the world now. Built on the crumbling remains of the World Before. Nothing was ever new anymore, everything was just repurposed. In its own way, it was inspiring … and sad.

Southlift had been rising and falling steadily. Full going up, empty coming down. If he turned around, he could just barely see Northlift at the opposite end of the quarry, over the tops of hundreds of rusting, forgotten aircraft carcasses. It sat silent and unmoving, underneath a horizon that just looked wrong. Darker, thinner, and wavering. More colorful, maybe, but not more cheery.

Foreboding was the word that came to mind.

Holt threw the last of the rocks, then pulled something else from a pocket. A polished black stone, something he had carried for weeks. It meant something to him. It was more than just a relic of a dance around a campfire. It represented something stronger, something that spoke of his change from isolationist to someone willing to trust.

But where had any of it gotten him?

He thought of Mira and Ben, back near the city’s center, alone. He could still see her kissing him. He saw it no matter how hard he tried to block it out. His hand gripped the stone tightly. His arm tensed. He should throw it like the others, toss it away, get rid of it. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Holt stuck the stone back in his pocket and grabbed something next to him. The Chance Generator felt warm in his hands. Pulling it from his pack had been automatic, like reaching out for an old friend.

Maybe he should just leave now, while he could. While Mira was gone and Zoey was asleep. He could just ride Southlift back up and disappear, head southeast like he’d always planned, toward the Low Marshes.

Of course, it wasn’t that simple, was it? He’d made promises. He’d told Zoey he believed in her, said he would help her however he could, and he’d meant it at the time.

But she didn’t need him. Not really. The truth was this Ben was who she needed now. Both Zoey
and
Mira. They needed someone to get them through the Strange Lands, and that definitely wasn’t Holt.

And then there was the Menagerie, less than a mile away, two full ships. Every time Southlift lowered down, Holt expected to see it full of pirates, all wanting to drag him back to Faust to pay for what he’d done, even if what he’d done had been the right thing.

Holt’s thoughts stopped as a bright flash to the southwest caught his eye, away from Southlift but near the edge of the quarry. It was like the sun flashing off metal.

It was gone just as quick as—

Two more flashes to the Southeast, visible near the edge again.

Holt’s eyes narrowed. Two more made three. Three of anything made a pattern. And a pattern meant something was real.

But what? What was up there? Whatever it was, it seemed to be slowly moving to either side of the city. He looked down at the beads, thought of sliding one up … just one. What would be the problem with—

“What are you doing?” It was Mira’s voice.

He looked behind him and saw her above the same opening that had let him up, standing still and looking at him.

“There’s something along the edge of the quarry,” he told her. “Something flashing.”

But Mira’s eyes were on the abacus in his hands. “I meant what are you doing with
that?
”

He felt a stirring of guilt at the question. “I … I just wanted to make sure it still worked, that’s all.”

“It’s a major artifact, Holt, why wouldn’t it still work?” Mira asked with forced patience. “And you aren’t supposed to be using it, even if it does.”

Holt felt the anger fill him again. Everything from the last few hours combined with the tone in her voice boiled over in him. He saw Ben lift Mira up, saw him kiss her.…

“Why shouldn’t I use it?” he snapped.

“Because you promised me you wouldn’t.”

Holt froze. She was right. Something about the dishonesty, or the casual way he had forgotten his own oath, stopped him. He looked down at the Chance Generator.

“The abacus makes you paranoid,” Mira continued. “It becomes an addiction, and you’re being
affected
by it. If you keep using it, you won’t be able to do anything without having it turned on. That’s what it
does.
” Mira looked at him with sad concern. “I want you to shut the artifact off—and hand it to me.”

Holt looked up at her.

“It’ll be tough,” she continued, “there’s no doubt, but after a week or so without it … you should be okay. You should be yourself again.”

Holt was silent. He looked back at the abacus. Was she right? Was this thing really affecting him? If it was, shouldn’t he be able to tell?

“Think about how you were before the artifact,” Mira said. “You were strong, self-sufficient. It’s what meant the most to you, your ability to survive. And you
hated
artifacts. Can you honestly tell me you would rely on something like the Chance Generator instead of yourself?”

Holt was silent. What she said, it made sense. Didn’t it?

“I need you where we’re going, Holt.” Mira’s voice sounded raw. He wasn’t sure what had happened with Ben, but it had been emotional. “The
real
you. I rely on you, don’t you see? I don’t know if I can make it with you like this.”

Words that were meant to placate him cut like a knife. He looked up at her with a new look, a heated one. “You don’t need me, you’ve got
him
now. I’m a liability here, you and I both know it. That’s what you really want to say, isn’t it?”

Mira sighed and looked away. “What happened between us at the dam … happened because I wanted it to, but it wasn’t fair to you. I had things that weren’t resolved, things that—”