Aquifer (15 page)

W
e ascend in silence, though there is much to say. All energy must go toward the climb. Shuffling feet and shifting stones seem but a few steps behind us, but each time I pause, my heartbeat alone throbs in my ears.

Seward gently turns my head toward the task before us. “Etria’s fallen away long ago; their knowledge of the route be no greater than that of the Toppers. He wouldn’t leave his world.”

But I’m not so sure. His only daughter is at my side. How far would Father pursue if he thought me in danger? Until he dropped. I’m sure of it.

I take another peek back, think I see a shadow shift behind the last bend, and plod on.

Always, the Amongus walks two steps ahead, glancing over his shoulder at each decision point, and nodding when I gesture the correct direction. He seems to feel an urgency.

But a hundred turns later, even I’m convinced there is
none, and we pause often to rest. Talya, especially, struggles to breathe, though she does not say it. I wonder if I am leading her to an undoing. I wonder if Father harbored the same thought about Mother.

We reach the thin path and wind slowly upward, hugging the mountain that rises this time on our left. The path has crumbled since last I walked it, as if thousands have wound its span, though I know that can’t be true. After several slips, we reach the archway and pause. Five dials lie on the ground. They whir and spin.

The Amongus gently gathers them. I swallow hard. Seward stares at me and folds his arms. I hear his unspoken words, feel their truth — you can’t change an Amongus.

But for good or ill, the die is cast. The one I fear strokes the dials and glances at each one of us in turn.

And then suddenly, violently, he flings them, one by one, over the edge. He stares out after them. An Amongus without a dial is nothing. He just threw his life away.

“Phale,” he speaks without turning. “My name is Phale.”

A name. I suppose they all do have one. Mape does, though as the head of the New Pertian regiment, he’s a unique case. The others, they have nicknames: Stinker. Barker. Fishlips. I’ve never heard a name offered.

“Phale,” Talya repeats. “I like it.” She points over the edge. “What were those?”

Phale stares at me. “Those are
our
judges. I make no decision without consulting them, and their verdicts are final.” His face softens. “Pieces of metal and glass. Owned by pieces of metal and glass. What have we become?”

He walks through the archway and up the tunnel.

“Are you still concerned?” I pat Seward on the back.

“More than ever. At least before we knew the enemy. There be safety in that — Whoa! To the ground! Take cover!”

I pull Talya to the floor and shield her body with my own. For a minute the tunnel rumbles, as a thin crack widens and works its way up the right wall. The tube eventually falls quiet, and I remove my hands from my head. I rise slowly. “I think that’s it.”

Suddenly, the ground heaves, opening beneath my feet. Rocks crumble from the ceiling of the passageway. Seward, Talya, and I leap beneath an outcrop, but in the darkness ahead, Phale disappears in a plume of smoke.

“Phale!” Seward hollers. “Every one, farther away from the cliff!”

We cough and sputter and climb over fallen rock, making our way forward to where Phale lies, a boulder split inches from his head.

He winces and straightens without help. “Don’t attend to me.” He lifts me to my feet. “We need to move faster. Blast his blasting! Mape’s explosions won’t stop until he reaches the Aquifer. There’s always been talk of it. What else could this be?” He wipes dust from his face. “The directions in your mind — the tunnels and turns — they will become meaningless soon. They’ll be obliterated.”

“The Age of Deliverers is over,” I say.

Phale lifts his hands. “Massa is gone. You should be gone.”

I stare at Seward and Talya and start to shake.

“We don’t know, mate.” My uncle eases me forward. “Phale doesn’t know either. Massa’s a tough old bird.”

“Even tough birds sink,” I whisper.

“Please, Luca, we need to move.” Talya cocks her head and strokes my hair. “If we fail doing something great, that’s okay.
We’ll be okay. But to give up here? In between? To save nothing? You weren’t made for this end.”

I sniff and cough.

And yell. I’ve never yelled before, and I don’t know where it comes from or why now it pushes free, but it’s filled with love and anger.

I will not die here
.

I dash forward. Two hundred some turns await. There’s no time to waste.

It is a hopeless quest. To stop the blasting. To protect the fragile world of the Rats. To calm the frenetic world that waits on the surface.

To free Father, if he lives, from the council’s hands.

But I am not alone, and here between worlds, for the first time in my life, I feel free.

I
jog around the corner and fall to my knees.

“Hold on!” I touch the tunnel floor. “It’s slick, wet.” Seward steps to my side. “How close are we? To the surface, I’s askin’.”

“We’re near.” I perform a quick mental check. “Twenty more turns.”

“Mape’s goons be blasting out the center of the isle, sure enough.” Seward peeks up. “It’s a good bet it’ll get a lot slicker from here.” He rubs grimy hands over his dreadlocks. “If seawater already be seepin’ through, these tunnels will soon give way, fill … Everything will fill.”

“Is your sea big enough to swamp the Aquifer?” Talya asks.

Seward and I exchange glances, and he climbs higher. “Nothing holds back the sea.”

I scramble in front of Seward, turn right, and slow. A smile gentles across my face. We are in the worst of places, but there’s no containing my glow.

“What is it?” Talya asks.

“Sunlight. Real sunlight.” We move toward the warmth, and the tunnel stops abruptly. I poke my head into the day.

Glaugood. We stand at the bottom of the mini Glaugood I discovered days ago. But the trees we used to reach the base are gone. In their place, trucks heavy with dirt and stone climb a circular road around the perimeter, while empty trucks chug back down the path, ready to be filled. Heavy machines and drilling crews slosh about the bottom, which, like us, is submerged in two feet of water.

“There’s no way out of this mess,” I whisper.

“Correct.” Phale’s voice strengthens. “A straight line. Seward first, then the girl, and finally you, Luca, directly in front of me. March, Seward.”

Nobody moves.

“Please,” I say. “I led you out. I gave you choices, a chance at life. Why do you do this now?”

He rounds my shoulder with his arm and gestures around the bowl. “Show me my choice. ‘Oh, hello, Mape. I’ve decided to join these fine people. Please let me walk away safely.’ ” He looks off. “You know what I am. What I do. What options do I have?”

“No, Phale.” Talya turns, horror on her face. “Nobody owns you anymore.” I wonder, for all the emotions Rats feel — for all the fullness they experience — has Talya ever known betrayal before?

Phale takes a deep breath — a thinking breath — and gives his head a quick shake. “March.”

“Last march of the undone.” Seward steps forward, pauses to speak in my ear. “Once an Amongus … Maybe next time, a bit of trust in your uncle be warranted.”

We slosh out into the cauldron beneath a clear blue sky. For a minute, we stand unnoticed, and in those moments Talya turns toward me. She straightens and clasps her hands. I study her face; it is at peace. I have extracted the most beautiful creature from the depths of the earth, led her to destruction, yet she is at peace. I feel a tear make a clinging descent down my cheek. She shakes her head, smiles, and speaks. “We are doing something great. We aren’t done yet.”

I want so to believe her.

Slowly, the machines fall silent. Truck engines die. All is quiet.

“Mape!” Phale calls. “I want to see Mape.” From the top lip of the cavernous hole, he appears, one eye bandaged.

“Well, this is a surprise. And a welcome one. Only … what became of the others?”

“Undone. And if it’s blame you’re looking to pin, look no farther than this boy.” A heavy hand shakes my shoulder.

“He’s not a boy,” shouts Talya.

Mape shifts, and even from our distance he appears amused. “With that hair, I’m not certain what it is. But the girl … I don’t recall a girl in the net.”

“She was a find. A surprise.” Phale crosses his arms. “Strange things lurk below. Had you the patience to wait me out before proceeding with these accursed explosions, I could have finished the job without stones falling on my head.”

“It seems your time below has liberated your tongue. An unwise condition when speaking to a superior.” Mape pauses. “Still, perhaps understandable given your days underground, and forgivable due to your success. As for the drilling, this is not the world you left, Watcher. The PM loses power by the day.
Without Massa or Luca, the mainland has teetered. There are riots. There is looting. We control only a small quadrant on the Swan. We need control of the water and the Rats’ domain, and we need it quickly. The Council authorized the haste. And I say it’s about time. For too long, freakish monsters have laughed at us. Why should the Rats not pay us tribute? We sustain them with light.”

Talya yells, “You do nothing of the —”

I slap my hand over her mouth. “Not the one to speak to right now.”

Mape’s eyebrows lift. “Luca has learned something in his absence. Let’s hope he is as wise when he appears before the Nine. Bring them up.”

“No!” Phale grabs my shoulder.

“No?” Mape asks.

“No?” I peek back at Phale’s determined face.

“I know how the truth spins, Mape. I know where the credit for this capture will fall. I’ve spent too much time in the darkness not to receive my accommodation for this assignment.” Phale points toward the tunnel. “I bring them in, or we return.”

“This level of subordination surpasses debriefing!” Mape yells.

“Debriefing be hanged. I’ve experienced worse!”

Mape looks away, and his jaws clench. Nobody but Father has ever challenged him. At least not that I’ve seen. Mape turns from the edge of the bowl and then whips back around, his finger pointed at Phale. “I will do this. Once.”

“March, Seward. Up the edge,” Phale calls.

The four of us wade to the road and start the circular climb. We reach the lip, and a voice pushes up from below.

“Do we keep blasting, Mape?”

Mape stares at me, and I drop my gaze. “There is no need. There is an easy way down … if you don’t destroy it.”

“Halt, for now!” Mape orders. “But all machinery remains on the isle in case Luca should forget either the path or his newfound wisdom.”

It’s done: The shelling. The digging. With my words, all can stop. But the price is more than I can bear. I see it in Talya’s eyes. That horror of betrayal has returned.

Welcome to the world of the Toppers
.

T
he world is dark today.

The brilliant sun sparkles against a field of blue, and in the distance thousands of ripples return the favor. But in the space between, where I live, the world feels dark.

The Council. The thought of them fills me with dread.

My father. The thought of him fills me with longing.

And Talya. A strange void grows between us as we walk, something no words can breech. To her, again, I have become Other. She sees good and bad and wrong and right, and her conviction draws me, but she’s not stuck in-between. If providing them with the path buys a little more time for Etria and his people, gives me clues to my father’s whereabouts, it’s a wrong I’ll consider.

My world is gray.

We push through the jungle and toward the beach. Phale and Mape speak in hushed tones behind me.

“And what of Jasper?” asks Mape.

“Out of my reach below. The same for the Curator.” Mape grunts.

“Maybe for the best. Five is too many for one man to bring up.”

“Seward!” Phale yells.

My uncle stops but does not turn.

“Did Jasper tell you where he beached his boat?”

Seward turns his head to the side. He exhales loud and slow.

“What if he did?”

“I fancy a boat.” Phale folds his arms. “My pay in credits —”

“Is sufficient.” Mape sounds upset, and I quicken my steps.

“After my recent days, no. It’s not sufficient. Eight Watchers were undone. I faced the fear you would not. I want a boat.”

I turn in time to see Mape yank Phale nearer. “If you knew the conditions on the mainland, you would not waste time with thoughts of personal gain.”

“If it is as bad as you say, I think a boat is a wise thing to acquire. Seward, lead me to Jasper’s shrimper.”

My uncle hangs his head and veers left, away from the main lagoon.

One tiring hour later, we reach the craft. Hidden beneath a weave of palm branches, it sways smartly back and forth against a makeshift dock.

“I’ll follow you to the PM’s isle.” Phale gestures toward the four of us. “They will ride in my new reward. Seward, untie it and step in … That’s right. Now the girl. And Luca, the prize.” Phale follows me into the boat, turns and stares. “Then again, Mape, you could simply come with me.”

Mape stares at the boat, spits, and clenches his teeth, and his own dial starts to spin. “I hate this craft. I spent months soaked in it, curled up in it, cursing the day I saw it. Rain, cold … I swore I’d never set foot in it again.”

Phale raises a palm and lets it drop to his side. “Fair.” He sighs and stares out toward the sea, and whispers into my ear, “It will take him some time to reach the lagoon where the other ships are anchored. You should have a sufficient head start by then.” His voice breaks. “Thank you, Luca. Greet my wife and baby girl … and thank you for the sky.”

Phale steps back off the boat and launches his body toward Mape, crashing into his midsection and toppling him backward.

“Hold on, mates!” Seward cranks up the engine, and the shrimper chugs into the depths; from there we witness the strangest of fights. The Amongus exchange body blows, each fierce enough to be the end of me, yet none seem to take effect. I can’t watch. Win or lose, this is Phale’s last stand, a final battle fought for us.

The motor gathers speed, and Seward sets his course. “The mainland, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” My mind whirs.
What just happened?
“The museum. Wren says there’s something there I need.”

“That isn’t going to be easy, mate,” Seward says. “Then again, when you’re involved, nothing’s easy. A trouble magnet. That’s what you are.”

Talya takes clumsy steps toward me, her legs unused to anything but the firm certainty of bedrock. She draws me close, humming softly into my heart.

“Were you really going to give your council the path?”

“The truth?” I peek at her. “I don’t know.”

She rests her chin on my shoulder. “The truth works for me.”

Talya glances back, and her breath catches. She grasps my head and cranks it toward the isle.

Phale stands alone, his arm raised in the air. He’s waving. An Amongus is waving.

Talya and I wave back.

It’s a strange world we live in, one where my heart now hurts for an Amongus. No, not an Amongus: Phale.

“Luca?” Talya kneels. “Have you been on this boat before?”

I shake my head.

“Then you are a very well-known young man …”

She straightens and points at the decking, to a scratch that is weathered but clear.

L-U-C-A

“Why is my name on the boat?” I trace the etching with my finger.

“I wonder more about this.” She raises a metal band, the sunlight glinting off tarnished gold. “Why was your mother on the boat? It’s an anklet from one of our artisans, one mothers are given at birth. It bears your name.” Her voice softens. “It belonged to Alaya.”

I reach for it, stroke it. I know this craft’s history; Jasper told me. I believe all the words surrounding my birth. Talya would not lie to me, but holding proof settles it, pushes the truth deeper. I am a Topper. I am a Rat. I belong everywhere and nowhere, and I alone can save two worlds.

Don’t be arrogant, Luca
.

I pocket the anklet and acquiesce to the gentle voice in my head. “Well, Father and me,” I whisper.

He must still be alive.

Father Massa, I’m coming. If I can figure out how to find you
.