Barren Sky, page 6
“I only want the plant. It is rightfully mine now. Claimed as a spoil of war.”
“A war you have not won, apparently.”
A second wave of River Rangers came through the trees, tripling Quinn’s forces and suddenly outnumbering the Venganza three to one.
“Ah, I see.” Shiva looked at Dia and then back to Quinn. “Then just give me the girl and we shall meet again another day.”
Quinn smiled and shook her head, never taking her eyes off Shiva.
“She is not mine to give.”
Dia turned to face another Los Muertos warrior stumbling through the battlefield toward Quinn. Although his cape had been torn off and blood covered his face, she recognized the way he walked—the stride of a man with a single arm. Quinn turned away from Shiva for the first time and grinned—directly at Lane. She winked at him and Dia thought she was the only one who had caught it.
“You’re with that clan?” Dia asked the question in a low mumble as Lane remained standing next to her.
“I am. I was.” Lane leaned over to whisper to Dia. “And you’re with that clan.”
She could see it in his eyes. Lane had known she was Venganza, and yet he hadn’t told Willie. When he nodded at her, Dia understood. He was not about to tell anyone now. Her chest swelled as she appreciated the fact that he wouldn’t reveal her tribe, but also with confusion as to why he’d keep the secret and why he’d infiltrated Los Muertos on behalf of Quinn.
“We shall temporarily withdraw. But you and I will need to palaver.”
Quinn shrugged off Shiva and raised her arms as she turned. “I don’t think so, not unless you have another army you’d like to summon to battle?”
Shiva grabbed her spear and whistled. The Venganza warriors followed her as she walked past Dia, shaking her head but saying nothing else. When the last of the masked warriors disappeared, Quinn turned to Willie and Snowball.
“Most of the others are dead or dying. I’d suggest we set aside our history or we won’t have a future.”
Dia watched Willie’s face twist, but he nodded, as did Snowball. As much as they may have hated each other before, neither man could deny the fact that the River Rangers had saved what was left of Los Muertos—and the plant.
“Let’s gather the weapons and head back to Albion. Leave a squadron to guard the plant.”
The River Rangers obeyed the command of their leader, searching the dead and helping the injured to their feet. Quinn turned to look at Dia.
“The masked one. She kept you alive. She wanted you to see this.”
Dia stood still, unsure if Quinn was making a comment or asking a question.
“I don’t know how you figure into this situation, but once we’re inside the safety of the castle, I suspect you and I will have an opportunity to discuss it.”
Chapter 12
Once Shiva and her Venganza warriors retreated and the River Rangers secured the water filtration plant on Treasure Island, they left for Albion Castle. Snowball had been reluctant to leave a handful of valve turners with Quinn’s soldiers, but the old feud between the clans had necessarily subsided with the appearance of a new enemy. Although some had asked whether or not leaving the plant with a skeleton guard was wise, Quinn had convinced them that marching from Albion with minimal defenses was worse.
They had waited for daylight to pull out. The sun had burnt off the morning mist and Dia could see across the bay and take in the full spectacle of the San Francisco ruins. What was left of the glass, steel, and aluminum skin sparkled in the mid-day sun while the rusted iron and copper patina seemed to burn from within. The empty, desolate landscape provoked a loneliness in most people, she knew, which was why the survivors had formed clans—as humans had done thousands of years ago. But, for her, the ruins brought a sense of peace in the same way that a cemetery had for the city dwellers of the past. She’d welcomed the idea of living amongst ghosts, and yet here she was caught in the middle of another tribal war of the living—another one with Shiva.
“Ready?”
Dia looked at Lane and nodded. They would need to talk. She wasn’t sure whether Lane or Snowball had seen or heard what she had, but even if they had, there was nothing to be done about it now. Most of Los Muertos lay dead in the settlement except for a handful at the plant and those heading to Albion with the River Rangers.
“Good. Because you’re going to have to cross the bridge again.”
Dia thought back to the hunt. How different things might be if she hadn’t pursued the fawn across the bridge.
“How far?”
Quinn appeared on Dia’s right, the woman smiling at both Lane and the girl. “A few miles. It’s not far once we get off this island and head up into the highlands above the bay.”
None of that meant anything to Dia, other than the fact that she’d be crossing the bay again, and this time, she hoped it would be the last.
The River Rangers led them out of Los Muertos’ settlement, onto the main road and then over the Bay Bridge. Dia crossed without stopping, looking down, or talking. Once they made it over the water and picked up the path toward Albion, the weather changed. She’d heard one of the older River Rangers call it a “micro-climate”—which meant that pockets of distinct weather patterns existed in the ruins, and could swing the temperature twenty degrees one way or the other.
The road snaked through some low-lying ruins, most of them long since charred and left to crumble back into the earth. The path climbed upward and, as they snaked back and forth on the ascent, Dia stopped several times to gaze back at the ruins. It wasn’t until an hour later that she first saw Albion Castle.
“There.” Quinn pointed as the mood amongst the River Rangers picked up. The closer they got to the stronghold, the more laughter and joking could be heard amongst her soldiers, the structure housing about the same number of people living in the Los Muertos camp.
“Is it a real castle?”
Lane chuckled as Quinn ordered the gates to be opened.
“What do you mean by real?”
Dia wasn’t sure. She’d heard stories… fables of knights, castles, and dragons. In those stories, castles seemed to be impenetrable fortresses that would protect the people of the settlement. In all her travels with Hado and time spent in the ruins of several cities, she’d never seen a structure able to do that.
A single turret jutted into the sky—a lone watch tower in the middle of the building. Steps led up to the gate, the castle surrounded by a crumbling stone wall and trees. It didn’t appear to be much larger than a stable. Dia stopped, looked at the front door behind the gate, and sighed.
“It isn’t so much what you see, but what you can’t,” Quinn said as she walked past with Willie on her heels.
Lane and Dia followed them into the castle’s courtyard, which was nothing more than a patch of dirt big enough for the most important River Rangers to meet with Willie, Snowball, and a few other Los Muertos who’d survived the attack.
“We can’t stay here. Venganza will come for us.”
Quinn laughed at Willie’s assumption. “Let them.”
Snowball grabbed his sword, but Willie put a hand over the man’s to stop him from unsheathing it.
“Why would we do that?” Willie asked.
“Albion Castle has stood for hundreds of years. It was here before the people who built the ruins and it’ll be here after we’re gone. It is deceptively secure and easily defended. I can see that many of you are still breathing heavy from the climb.”
Willie nodded, unable to deny that fact, given his flushed face and the hair plastered to his scalp with sweat.
“So, we stay here. Then what?”
“Then you join the River Rangers and swear allegiance to us.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Snowball brushed past Willie. “Don’t think because you bailed us out back there, that we’re now friends. I see you conveniently left a garrison of Rangers to guard our water filtration plant.”
“So, you would allow Venganza to come back and seize it? Isn’t that what they were about to do when we came to your rescue?”
Dia and Lane stood against the wall, and she could see that he was following every word of the disagreement. This brittle truce couldn’t last, and he knew it. But Dia didn’t care. Even though she’d not yet seen her eighteenth sun, she’d tired of the constant tribal warfare. And she cared even less about the politics here, to which she had no connection or ties. She looked over her shoulder to the ruins. She could’ve sworn they were whispering to her, beckoning…
“What are you proposing?” Willie asked.
“We cannot defeat Venganza if we’re fighting with each other.”
Dia looked around and saw the same understanding on all of the faces, Rangers and Los Muertos alike.
“That means we stay here and wait them out. We now hold both filtration plants. The Venganza can’t survive without clean water. They’ll have to leave.”
“Both? You have a plant here? In the castle?”
Quinn grinned at Willie. “As I said, much of the castle cannot be seen from the surface. Miles of tunnels exist beneath Albion, carved alongside an ancient, underground river. We have been building filtration spots alongside it, and while not perfect, they do provide us with fresh water during dry times.”
“River Rangers.” Dia had spoken it aloud without thinking, and everyone had turned to look at her in response.
“Yes, my child. Who else would we be?”
These two clans lived a bridge apart, both had been developing water filtration systems, and yet neither had thought to work with the other. Dia shook her head and chalked it up to more petty, tribal politics. But an underground river? This intrigued her, and she would be sure to ask Lane about it as soon as they had an opportunity to talk privately. If they had the opportunity to talk privately.
“Willie and I, and the others. We have to trust you with our plant on the island. How can we?”
“How can you not? Would you rather strike a deal with Shiva? Go on, then. It seems to have worked for you thus far.”
Dia could see Willie bristling at Quinn’s sarcasm.
“No, that’s not what we want, and you know it.” Snowball looked at Willie, but the leader of Los Muertos nodded at his friend, asking for his trust, but doing so without speaking.
Willie spoke. “What are you going to do with our plant?”
A commotion rose at the gate as a River Ranger on horseback arrived. Dia hadn’t seen any horses in the fight, and in fact hadn’t seen any since she’d ridden hers into the California territory. Now she could only assume the Rangers kept a few of the beasts, and that they’d become extremely valuable to Quinn.
The Ranger rode into the courtyard, dismounted, walked up to Quinn, and whispered into the leader’s ear. She kept her face tight and strong, but Dia saw a flicker in her facade.
“Word from the island. From your plant.”
Willie and Snowball stepped forward, both men staring intently at Quinn.
“What is it?” Lane asked, speaking for the first time during the gathering.
The messenger ran off to tend to the horse while Quinn paused. She shrugged and then spoke. “A valve malfunctioned. As best as they can tell, one of the old rubber seals gave way and they can’t stop the water flow. The intake manifold is allowing the water in and the cisterns can’t hold it.”
“Bullshit. This was all a ploy to seize our plant and now you’re lying so we’ll willingly abandon Treasure Island.”
Quinn glared at Snowball before turning to address Willie. “The island can no longer produce clean water. Your clan is decimated. I know it’s hard, but we’re going to have to align our forces, at least until we can dispel the Venganza. Do you trust me?”
Willie looked at Snowball and the other six surviving Los Muertos, his fierce gaze locking on Lane as he spoke.
“I don’t know.”
Chapter 13
Dia hadn’t gotten to know every Los Muertos in the settlement before Shiva had attacked, but she knew which of the people in Albion Castle were River Rangers and which were Los Muertos. The Rangers laughed and joked, and drank and went on with their lives as if the massacre across the bay hadn’t happened. Dia believed them to be strong but foolish, and she would have to wait and see what kind of leader Quinn would turn out to be. The warriors in the castle respected her, that was obvious. But there had been whispers when she’d brought the surviving Los Muertos—their long-time enemy—back to the stronghold.
But after a day, the seriousness of the situation began to sink in for all of them. Los Muertos had been obliterated, and now the water filtration plant had broken down. The Rangers had taken in a handful of refugees, but had made a new enemy in Shiva and her Venganza warriors from the west.
“Come.”
Quinn surprised Dia, appearing behind her as she sat on the low wall on the patio of the castle while waiting for dusk to whisk away the day’s heat. She simply couldn’t get used to the climate, expecting cold winds from the north with bitter snow at this time of the year.
“Where?”
“I want to show you the castle.”
Dia had been wandering through the halls already, although the Rangers blocked her path whenever she’d tried to go down the steps to the tunnels. A river that ran under the earth was something she’d never seen, and many of the skeptical Rangers wanted to keep it that way.
However, Dia had the opportunity to explore the castle, taking note of the corridors and rooms. She had counted about ten distinct rooms including the kitchen, dining hall, and open patio. Groups of people—probably families—had gathered in the rooms with all their worldly belongings. The hallways ran perpendicular, each with rooms evenly spaced along the wall. The castle must have been a massive, single-family residence at one time but the few dozen River Rangers now inhabiting it made the structure feel tight and claustrophobic.
“You must be busy. Have other things to attend to.”
Quinn pushed a long lock of renegade hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. The woman’s eyes sparkled with the same intensity Dia had seen in Hado’s.
“I’m quite capable of managing my own affairs.”
Dia stood up, her face burning as she looked down.
“No need to be embarrassed, girl. You speak what is on your mind. And so do I. Let us simply say the words we mean and not play with subtext.”
With that, she looked up and smiled at Quinn, who smiled back.
“Now, shall we?”
Dia looked around, but didn’t see Lane, Willie, Snowball, or any other Los Muertos.
“I wouldn’t have bothered crossing the bridge if I simply wanted to bring my enemy into my home to smite them.”
“Right. I know.” Dia took a step over the threshold and back into the castle.
“You want to see the river.”
“I do.”
Quinn bowed and then stepped in front of Dia. She led her through the main room, down a long hallway, and to a door at the end of it.
“This goes to the basement and the sub-basement.”
Dia paused, observing the castle and its activity. Rangers had gathered to whisper in corners and she hadn’t seen Los Muertos at all. Whatever temporary elation they’d experienced over watching Shiva retreat had been short-lived. Dia had to ask, although she suspected she understood why.
“We can’t all survive here, can we?”
“No, we can’t. Most of the Los Muertos died, but the Rangers have been living on the knife’s edge for months. We have enough water, but food is frighteningly low. And once Shiva discovers the plant on Treasure Island is down, where do you think she’ll come next?”
Quinn took a key from around her neck and unlocked the door. “C’mon. We’ll talk as we walk.”
The rickety stairs led into a dark hole, and Dia paused, her hand on the rail.
“Follow me.”
Quinn smiled and walked in front of Dia, down the steps. Dia descended, and the darkness retreated as her eyes adjusted. They stood in a dark room with one row of glass blocks near the ceiling. Quinn led her to the corner, where a hatch in the floor had been propped open.
“We’re going to have to fight Venganza. But each day we don’t, we consume more and more of our finite resources. It goes against reason, but I’d prefer we face Shiva’s warriors as soon as possible.”
This is not your war, Dia thought. These are not your people.
“Come.”
The woman climbed into the hatch and down the ladder before Dia could respond. Dia followed. The air became immediately heavy, wet and cold like the early spring near Erie. Her eyes adjusted again, a few burning torches being the only source of light in the tunnel.
“We don’t know when these were built. We don’t know where the river begins. But like Los Muertos, we’ve set up a filtration system downstream that gives us enough water to survive. Without it, we’d die.”
“And Shiva knows this.”
“Of course, she does. But she doesn’t seem to want the castle.”
Dia shook her head. “No. She wants the tech. And the valves.”
“That’s right. The tech is gold, but the valves are rare in the ruins. Her people could die before she found the right ones, even with the filtration blueprints.”
Dia walked to the edge and put her hand in the cool water. It smelled musty and damp in the tunnel, but the water looked clean.
“Don’t put your hand near your face unless you want to spend all of tomorrow morning squatting behind a tree. That water is contaminated.”
The girl stood, wiping the water off on her pants, wondering why she couldn’t sense the quality of the water as she could back home. “Why are you talking with me? Why not Lane or Willie?”
“Don’t be coy. You know why.”
“I don’t.”
Her head hurt. It hadn’t even been a fortnight since she’d been chasing a fawn through the woods. And now, days later, she’d been dropped into a clan war with an invading tribe that happened to be the one from her homeland which she’d been running from. If the gods had wanted to test her, this was a magnificent way to do so.
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