Son of Sun, page 10
Nola’s gaze swept the trees around them, searching for people who could be staring at her, waiting to send another arrow into her flesh. She shivered at the remembered pain.
“You okay?” Jeremy glanced sideways at Nola.
“Fine,” Nola said, though her skin prickled with the horrid sensation of being watched.
“My name is Julian, if that helps. I’d take off my gloves to shake properly, but I’m sure you understand why that’s not possible.”
“I’ve seen nightwalkers before,” the man said. “Some made it this far north. Had to kill them before they bled us.”
“I don’t blame you,” Julian said. “Unfortunately, many of my kind are violent. Letting them into your home might have meant the death of your people.”
“But the home in the mountains is different,” the man said. “At least that’s what everyone is meant to believe.”
“Nightland is different,” Nola said. “I’ve been living there. I have human friends who are living there, and no one’s ever—”
“Human?” The man turned to them. “Your friends are human, but you aren’t?”
“I’ve been changed.” Nola held tight to Jeremy’s hand. “I was hurt. I had to be given Graylock to survive.”
“And that means you’re not human?” The man leaned forward, squinting at Nola’s face.
“If vampires aren’t human—” Nola began.
“Why shouldn’t the nightwalkers be human?” the man said. “They were born, and I know they can die.”
“But their DNA—” Jeremy said.
“You were bred in the glass, weren’t you?” the man said.
Jeremy glanced to Nola. “I was. I left when I figured out they were murderers.”
The man combed his fingers through his ragged beard. “I don’t know if that makes you smart or plain stupid. Either way, you’re just plain human. You were born human. Whatever they shoved in your veins came after.”
“How did you know I’ve had Graylock?” Jeremy’s fingers loosened around Nola’s.
The man turned and strode away through the woods. “They let you walk in front, and the girl seems fond of you. She wouldn’t have let you do that if you couldn’t get shot in the gut with an arrow and walk away same as her.”
“Nola,” Nola said. “My name is Nola.”
The man stopped, grinding his toe into the dirt. “You’re the one then?”
“What one?” Nola’s mouth went dry. Her fingers twitched, longing for the weight of her knife in her hand.
“The one whose name broke through the noise in the city,” the man said. “The one the nightwalkers believed in and the pack folk howled for.”
“Yes,” Nola said. “I don’t know why. There’s nothing special about me.”
“You’re a human and you’re alive,” the man said. “Isn’t that special enough?”
“You’re quite right,” Julian said. “Being alive is, in itself, a wonderful thing.”
“Coming out of your mountain to find us,” the man said, “that might be dumber than leaving the glass.”
“Not if we can find allies,” Nola said. “Then it’s worth the risk.”
The man gave another coughing laugh. “The whispers are right then. There is one pure idealist left in the world.” He looked over his shoulder and gave Nola a wink. “If you’re trying to call folks who have strayed from the norm unhuman, you’re the least human of us all.”
Heat rushed to Nola’s cheeks. “I just want people to survive. To have a shot at living in peace.”
“She’ll like you,” the man said.
“Who?” Nola asked.
“Rebecca.” He waved for them to keep following.
They went down a hill whose base was hidden in the trees. The same orange and yellow-edged waxy leaves hung from these branches, but the trees grew closer together, as though all crowding in toward the most fertile land. Most of the trees seemed entirely wild, but every now and then the bark would carry a mark of human activity. A hefty stick nailed to the side of a tree to help someone climb up into the branches. A nobble where rope had been tightly tied around a branch while the tree grew.
“How long have you been living here?” Nola asked.
The man cut west, following the edge of a dried stream. The rocks at the bottom of the bed carried no moss or grass, almost as though they had been scrubbed clean.
“I’ve been here long enough not to remember what the river smells like,” the man said. “Others have been here long enough they weren’t in the city after the stores shut down. Some have been here for as long as there have been rumors of nightwalkers digging deep to build a home.”
“How many years ago was that?” Nola asked.
“I’m not good with years,” the man said. “The weather doesn’t care about years, why should I?”
The streambed branched off in two directions, one cutting up through the trees and heading farther west, the other cutting north. The man followed the northern fork.
The ground by the stream had been worn down, the fallen sticks driven further into decay by the grinding of many footsteps. The dirt around the bases of the trees had been recently turned and carved into sections.
“Are you going to farm around the trees?” Nola stopped to examine the loose earth. The cold of the night still clung to the shadows. Any new plants would be killed by the frost.
They’re planning. Preparing to survive another year.
Nola reached down toward the dirt with her free hand.
“Don’t touch it,” the man said. “The farmers don’t like it if you touch their patches.”
“I don’t blame them.” Nola tucked her hand behind her back.
“Come on.”
“It makes sense,” Nola said as they followed the man farther up the streambed, then turned west and through a patch of newer, shorter trees.
“What makes sense?” Jeremy ducked under a low branch, snaking sideways to keep his pack from getting caught.
“The trees have developed a way to live through the acid rain,” Nola said. “The coating on their leaves, they evolved to survive. If you plant around the base of the trees, the leaves will lend their protection to your crops. It’s really brilliant.”
“I’m glad you approve,” a woman’s voice carried through the branches right next to Nola.
Chapter Thirteen
Nola froze, waiting for the voice to speak again so she could find where the woman hid. There was no movement in the trees. No crackle of footsteps coming closer.
“I was training in plant preservation in the domes,” Nola said. “I would be very interested to see what other ways you’ve found to grow crops out here.”
The man turned to face Nola, his expression bordering on boredom.
“That’s part of why we came here,” Nola said. “To learn from you.”
“Learn from us?” the woman’s voice came from Nola’s left.
Nola turned toward the sound but couldn’t see a person in the trees.
“You’ve got medicine to keep you strong, and a mountain to protect you,” the woman said.
“And you’ve managed to survive without any of that,” Nola said. “Without ReVamp and a home it took years to build, everyone in Nightland would be dead.”
“True.” The voice had moved to Nola’s right.
“There are people living on the old highway right outside the city,” Nola said. “They’re going to die, and we can’t help them.”
“But we should?” the voice moved farther to the right.
The man laughed.
“Not alone,” Nola said. “The way we’re living, the highway people couldn’t replicate it. But they might be able to survive the way you have. If you teach us, maybe we could help them survive together.”
“What makes you think I care if the street scum live or die?” the woman said.
Nola’s heart stuttered. “Because I have to believe there are decent people in the world. Because even though you’ve made a home out here, your people must have come from the city. You know what it’s like to be cold and sick and hungry. You know what it’s like to be afraid.”
“You don’t,” the woman spoke from behind Nola. “The glass blocked the whole world from you.”
“But I’ve learned. I don’t want to abandon the people whose city has been destroyed by the domes. I don’t want to hide and wait for them all to rot.” Nola looked to the man. “If you really believe that all of us are just plain human, then you’ve got to think it’s wrong to hide and do nothing.”
“What if the kindest act is to kill them all?” the man said. “Put the street scum out of their misery, save them the pain of a slow death.”
“No,” Nola said, “the world isn’t that far gone. Not yet.”
“I like you.” A woman stepped out of the trees directly in front of Nola.
Nola blinked, trying to find the trick of the light that had concealed the woman. But the shadows of the rising sun didn’t reveal any place the woman might have hidden.
“You’re wrong about the people on the pavement,” the woman said. “They’re too far gone to be saved. Still, I like your heart.”
The woman crossed her arms and stared at their group, her gaze moving from one to the next as though appraising each of them in turn.
She wasn’t old, probably not much more than thirty, but there was a weight to her presence that made the examination unsettling. Nola studied her closely-cropped brown hair that matched the color of her sack-like clothing. Her shoes were made of sewn leather, as were the fingerless gloves she wore. The woman had no weapon Nola could see, yet she stood in front of them, not seeming to mind the Guard guns, knives, and sword Nola, Jeremy, and Julian carried.
“I don’t like company,” the woman said. “Makes the whole place too damn noisy.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said.
“It’s fine,” the woman said. “They’re as worth it as the last batch. Get back to the gap.”
The man gave a nod and slipped between the trees. Before Nola could think whether to say goodbye or thank you, he’d disappeared without even the sound of footsteps trailing behind him.
I didn’t notice how silently he walked when we were following him.
“I’m afraid you might be disappointed,” the woman said, “coming all this way just to find us.”
“Finding healthy people at all is nothing short of miraculous,” Julian said.
The woman snorted. “You’ve been hiding too long. Come on out.”
With a faint rustling of leaves, more figures emerged from the trees. Two men dropped into view from high branches. A tiny woman slipped out from under low-hanging leaves. A set of dark-haired twins stepped out to flank their group.
“Best get moving. Daylight is wasting.” The woman looked to Julian. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Julian bowed.
The woman slipped between the trees, heading farther north.
Nola followed, watching the way the woman twisted and bent to avoid brushing against the leaves, always choosing a path that allowed her to continue forward without making a sound.
“Rebecca?” Nola said.
“Yep,” Rebecca answered.
“Thank you for agreeing to see us,” Nola said.
“Either that or kill you,” Rebecca said. “I don’t need more death this week.”
“The people in the valley,” Jeremy said, “the ones the guards—”
“Guards killed them last week,” Rebecca said. “They don’t count for this tally.”
Jeremy reached forward, taking Nola’s hand, his pinky draping across her palm.
“Did the guards find you here?” Jeremy said.
“Turned their trail about four miles east.” Rebecca skirted around a wide stand of tightly planted trees. “Moved the bodies to the valley to rot.”
Nola’s stomach churned. “Why did you move them?”
“They died too close to a healthy stream,” Rebecca said. “We can’t let that kind of decay touch the water, so we moved them to the valley where they can’t do any harm. Their bodies will be helping the brush regrow soon enough.”
“What burned the valley?” Nola asked.
“Peter,” Rebecca laughed.
Nola waited for Rebecca to continue, but instead she stopped next to the densely packed trees.
“Get the other wanderers,” Rebecca said to no one in particular before turning to Jeremy. “Don’t forget, I’ve got the right to have you killed if you try to hurt my people.” Rebecca ducked between branches and out of sight.
The twins stood next to the place where Rebecca had disappeared.
“Go in,” the left twin said.
“Mind your head,” the right twin said.
“Thank you.” Julian stepped in front of Nola, bowing low to get the brim of his hat beneath the branches.
“What’s in there?” Nola asked.
“Rebecca,” the left twin said.
“Right.” Nola nodded. “Obviously.”
Holding onto the straps of her pack, Nola bent over and followed Julian. The tan of his suit had already disappeared into the foliage. The branches tugged at her shirt, finding the place where the arrow had torn the fabric.
I’m following the people who tried to kill me. Going into a dark place. A closed place.
“Jeremy,” Nola said.
“I’m right behind you,” Jeremy said.
The knot in Nola’s chest eased.
“I must say, I’m impressed.” Julian’s voice came through the leaves in front of Nola.
“Juli…” His name faded from her lips as she stepped into the center of the trees.
A hint of morning light filtered down through the leaves, helping the candles that hung from the branches to light the clearing. Fifty feet in diameter, the space held tables and chairs, as though the Northerners had been expecting to meet for a morning meal. At the far end of the clearing, Rebecca sat at a square table with candles perched on the front corners.
In the golden-green light, Rebecca lost the look of one who only knew the color brown. The glow softened her, giving a sparkle to her keen eyes.
“Welcome to the Woodlands,” Rebecca said. “We’re not much on visitors, so consider yourselves lucky to have made it this far.”
“Thank you.” Nola bowed. “How did you build this?”
“We didn’t.” Rebecca waved a hand toward the canopy of changing leaves. “The forest built this. We only found it and were smart enough not to destroy it.”
“It’s beautiful,” Nola said.
Rebecca scanned the room. “I suppose. We have better places, but those aren’t for people like you.”
“Hmm.” Julian pressed a palm to one of the trees.
“Just because we know your secrets doesn’t mean you get to know ours,” Rebecca said.
“And how do you know ours?” Jeremy asked.
“You came here to find out how we survive,” Rebecca said. “I can believe that. We’re a myth, your interest is understandable, but there’s more to it than that.”
“Really?” Julian said.
“Of course.” Rebecca leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table. “Like you said, the same people are trying to slaughter all of us.”
“Fair enough.” Julian took a chair from one of the tables and set it across from Rebecca. “The real question is what do you intend to do about it?”
“Us?” Rebecca said. “We do what we have to to keep our area clear. We’re not like you. My people don’t heal after taking an arrow to the side.”
“Most of the Domers don’t heal either,” Jeremy said.
“So we should attack them?” Rebecca said. “Just rush the glass and hope for the best?”
“Of course not,” Jeremy said. “The Outer Guard are well trained and better armed than your people could ever hope to be.”
“Then you should attack.” Rebecca pointed to Jeremy.
“Not possible,” Jeremy said. “We can’t get across the river, and even if we could find a way to get every fighter in Nightland over the water, it would still be a slaughter. All they would have to do is hold out until sunrise.”
“Then we talk to them,” Rebecca said, “form a treaty and live in peace.”
“I wish I believed that were possible,” Julian said. “The territories of our three peoples don’t encroach upon each other. There are no resources we are competing for. In a perfect world, we should all be able to live in peace.”
“In a perfect world, children wouldn’t be born behind glass,” Rebecca said, “and I would be able to give you fairy dust to sprinkle on the street scum so they could all survive.”
“There has to be something we can do,” Nola said. “I refuse to hide and wait for the domes to come for me.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Rebecca said. “I’d rather see the glass melt than my trees burn. I’m sure you’d rather not see the mountain brought down on the nightwalkers’ heads.”
Julian nodded.
“Glad to know we see eye to eye.” Rebecca pounded a fist on the table and stood. “I wish your leader had come to see us himself, but I suppose Emanuel doesn’t often come out of hiding.”
“How do you know his name?” Nola planted her hands on her hips to keep her fingers from trembling.
“I know lots of things,” Rebecca said. “Just because the nightwalkers have ignored everything beyond the tips of their fangs doesn’t mean the rest of us have been keeping our heads in the dirt. If we’re going to be working together, I’d advise you not to underestimate my people.”
“Will we be working together?” Nola took a deep breath, trying to stop the feeling of tumbling through the world too quickly for reason.
“Don’t know if I’ll have to kill you before the end of the day, but it is nice to know we have similar goals. If you had wanted to take my forest”—Rebecca shrugged—“we could have ended this at the blight field, and I wouldn’t have had to waste time on you.”
“I’m glad our journey wasn’t in vain,” Julian said.
“I never said that,” Rebecca said.
Too fast. It’s all much too fast.
“If you don’t have an immediate plan to attack the domes, we’d like to see how you’ve been surviving,” Jeremy said.
