The Fifth City (19 page)

The girl stretched her hand up, and her fingers scrabbled for a moment until they finally reached.  Alice gripped hard and began to rise once again.

I didn’t want to break your concentration,
she told Atlan as she followed the girl, and then immediately felt guilty for not making sure he had found the map too.

It’s alright
, he said, clearly having heard the guilt in her tone. 
Eda is having trouble climbing—Colin and I are trying to help get her up.

She smiled despite the growing fatigue of her muscles. 
I’m helping Alice up.  She’s above me, but couldn’t connect to the map
.

The worry gnawing at the back of her mind eased.  At least she wasn’t the only one helping someone.

It had seemed like the right thing to do, she just didn’t want it to affect the judgment of her performance.  But if Atlan was doing it too, she should be fine.  Perhaps she wasn’t cut out for ruthless competition; because she knew deep down that the other initiates weren’t her real enemy.  The real reason she was here doing this, the real enemy, was perched atop his mountain up north, spewing lies and spreading destruction.

But she still hoped she wouldn’t be the last to reach the top.

See you at the top then,
Atlan’s voice caressed her mind once more before Sylvia felt the extra presence leave, and the link closed.

See you,
she thought to herself, her heart inexplicably racing faster.  A wave of energy flew through her veins, a second burst of adrenaline that would push her onward.

She guided Alice up, sometimes pausing for minutes at a time so one or the other could find their grips and footing.  All the while, the corners of Sylvia’s mouth were turned up in a smile.

They encountered no other initiates on their path, but Sylvia did catch the occasional shout on the wind, sometimes above, sometimes to the side.  She wondered how many initiates had already made it to the top.

A while later, she craned her neck to look up higher than the next handhold.  The stark outline of the cliff’s edge was now visible, its ragged outline bleached white against the night sky.  They were almost there.

After telling Alice where the final handhold lay, the slight girl lifted herself up and disappeared.

A pale arm shot out over the edge, fingers open wide.  Sylvia lifted herself high enough to grab it, and pushed up with her feet.  She could feel the enormity of the drop behind her as she grasped the earth, and she was suddenly in desperate need to get on steady ground.  Her other hand scrabbled at the earth, rocky with clumps of grass that she used to drag the rest of her body up, while Alice pulled her other arm.

At last her body was on solid ground.  Her fingers curled into claws from the strain of climbing, and her nails and fingertips were torn and bloody.  She got to her hands and knees and her brain registered a strange buzzing sound as she rose wearily to her feet.

The buzzing erupted into applause and she whipped her head up to see a massive crowd gathered.

It seemed all of Seascape had gathered on the wide cliff, just like the first Trial.  Throughout the crowd glowed small round lanterns, showing Sylvia just how far back people had gathered on the southern shore.  Absently, she dusted herself off, gazing at the crowd, which had turned its attention toward several large panels which Sylvia suspected were enormous looking-glasses.

High above the crowd, five looking-glasses hung from shadowy black structures.  Even those in the back of the crowd would be able to see what the panels displayed.  Her stomach jolted as she realized the people of Seascape had watched her entire ascent up the cliff.

Sylvia’s eye caught a glimpse of silver, which turned out to be Lady Naomi.  The woman stood with one hand propped on an old stone podium, around which the other initiates had gathered.  Sylvia unglued her feet from the earth—where they had been perfectly content after desperately clinging to the cliff for what seemed like hours—and headed over to the other initiates.

The moonlight was enough to make out their faces by.  Alice sat by herself, clutching her knees to her chest and staring at the ground.  She gave Sylvia a weak smile as the Rider approached.  The other initiates were focused on the looking-glass nearest, their faces craned up to watch those who remained on the cliff.

Sylvia sat down on the ground next to Lena, who had already taken off her datawoven jacket and let her pale blonde hair fly in the wind.  Just behind her, Talia lay flat on her back, her fingers twining themselves in the grass, clearly happy to be back on solid earth.

She had somehow known Atlan hadn’t made it up yet, feeling as if he would have at least come to greet her when she arrived; but not seeing his face in those gathered ignited a spark of fear.  Her eyes darted to the looking-glass.

It showed two views.  On the right, one lone initiate clung to the cliff, unmoving.  The left side showed three figures bunched together, one of whom was being helped up by another.

That must be Atlan with Colin and Eda
, Sylvia thought, her eyes boring into the looking-glass, watching their every move.  Suddenly, the looking-glass image of Atlan became smaller, and now she could see the top of the cliff, giving the image perspective.  They didn’t have far to go.

But the lone climber still hadn’t moved.  Sylvia leaned over to Lena, and whispered, “Who is that?”

“Faye,” the Seascape girl replied, not taking her eyes off the looking-glass.

Sylvia almost didn’t want to ask it, but she had to.  “What happens if she doesn’t make it up?” she whispered, then wondered if Lena would even tell her—being an outsider.

But the girl leaned in closer to Sylvia.  “They said they wouldn’t help, at the beginning, remember?  But there’s no way they would let any of us die.”

Talia had sat up, and was now nodding in agreement.  They seemed very sure of it, but offered no explanation.  Sylvia hid a smile—she was triumphant in her own way: she had finally talked to some of the other initiates.

Sylvia looked back at the looking-glass to see Atlan’s group nearly at the top.  Her eyes darted between the real cliff and the one on the glass, sure she would see someone coming over the edge at any second.

Finally a moonlight-pale hand jutted up and grabbed hold, followed by the arms and face of Atlan, his dark hair more askew than ever.  Sylvia wanted to run over and help him up, but she was sure that wouldn’t be allowed.  Eventually, he pulled his whole body onto the grass, then reached down to help Eda, who, Sylvia could see in the glass, was being pushed from below by Colin.  Then, all three initiates stood at the edge.

The crowd burst into applause once more as the three walked shakily forward, all eager to be away from the edge.  Atlan clapped Colin on the back, and Eda was beaming at the two boys.

Over the noise, Talia leaned into Sylvia and shouted, “Why did they help her?”

Sylvia shrugged.  She couldn’t say much, having helped Alice all the way up.  Talia must not have seen Sylvia’s climb on the looking-glasses.

But during the commotion, the looking-glasses had turned off.  Sylvia saw only a black panel, and her heart fluttered—what about Faye?  She nearly stood, but her fatigued muscles kept her pinned to the earth.

It was at that moment that Lady Naomi mounted the podium and addressed the audience.  Outrage flew through Sylvia.

“Well done, well done!” the Lady raved.

Sylvia couldn’t stand it.  “What about Faye?” she called, loud enough for Lady Blackwater and some of the crowd to hear.

Lena tried to hush her, but Sylvia stared up at the Lady, waiting for an answer.

“Not to worry,” the Lady soothed, “Our final initiate has been taken care of, and removed from the cliff,” her face curved up into a grin.  “But due to certain circumstances,” the Lady glanced Sylvia’s way, “We could not leave the looking-glasses on for the rescue.”

Sylvia slumped back down, but didn’t drop her gaze.  How was she supposed to know that?  She had no idea how these Trials worked, whether the initiates were safe or not, or why there was
“no way they would let any of them die.”

People died in Arcera all the time.  It was dangerous traveling through the wilds, where your life depended on a person’s skills, and the courage it took to use them.  Since the war had begun, it had been a little more like luck that had kept Sylvia and her friends alive.  What was so special about the initiates?  When they were testing them with such dangerous tasks, how was she supposed to know they were safe?

The Lady continued as if the interruption hadn’t occurred.

“Tonight, we saw just how
connected
our initiates could prove themselves to be.”

She paused, for effect perhaps, and the only sound that could be heard were the waves crashing far below, at the bottom of the cliff.

“Few understood the real challenge,” Lady Blackwater continued, with all of Seascape rapt in attention.  The initiates stared up at her hungrily.

“Connectivity.  The link that ties us together, as humans, as citizens of Seascape, as neighbors and friends.  Our lives are connected to one another by millions of threads.  We are not alone in the journey of our lives.  Our initiates must learn to connect with each other, to trust each other, to
help
each other.”

Sylvia’s breath caught in her throat.  Had she done it right?

“In one week’s time, our initiates will gather on the northern shore for their next task,” the Lady concluded.

As the crowd came back to life, Sylvia sunk heavily into the grass, beyond ready to head back home to Castle Tenny, and her warm bed.  Though the Lady hadn’t said
what
the next Trial would be, Sylvia had a whole week to worry about it.

The crowd began to disperse, and Sylvia was met by Oliver.  When she glanced back at the podium, she could swear she saw the glint of a steely look in Lady Naomi’s gaze; but then the Lady grinned, and bowed her head at the Rider before disappearing into the crowd.

Twenty Nine

The night air carried a whiff of adrenaline as Ven and Flint headed back to grab another crate of orbs.
Surprisingly, the crates were rather light; heavily padded, they assumed, to keep any accidents from happening during transport.

Ven and Flint jogged back down the street at the pace they had kept for over an hour now, back to the storehouse, only a few blocks away.

Taking the storehouse had been simple, with only one Scout stationed there to protect it.  Once night had fallen, and the streets became dark, they had launched their plan into action.

They had paired up and each taken a section in the line, each running crates only a fraction of the way, leading to the back gate, where they would take them out of the city, and out of the Scouts’ hands.  Ven had lost track of how many crates he and Flint had dropped at their mark for Ash and Arden to continue down the line.

Dahlia and the glassworker, Harry, were stationed at the storehouse with one of the Lightcity Riders, Tems.  They took turns pulling out the crates and putting them on the next corner, where Ven and Flint picked them up to run them down the line.

After Ash and Arden was Jet, paired with Vivi, another Lightcity Rider.  Rolfe and Thom were next, then two more Lightcity Riders, Andred and Morgain.

They had only managed to grab a few of their contacts in the city to carry out the plan at such short notice.  Earlier, when Ash and Arden were spying on the back gate, they had overheard the gatekeepers complaining about the Scouts that had just returned to the city.

The Scouts had been boasting as usual about the important work they were doing for the Four Cities, and had been complaining about their contingent having to cart the hoard of orbs to Riftcity tomorrow.  So the Defenders had vaulted their plan into action.

Sunrise was only hours away, and the storehouse was nearly empty now, thanks to them.  Ven couldn’t stop smiling when he thought about what this would do to Greyling.

And he was beyond thankful that the crates had been packed so lightly.  Flint had cracked one open to make sure the orbs really were in the boxes; and underneath wads of wood shavings, the explosives lay neatly nestled.

The crates were large, and there were a lot of them, but at least they could carry them between two people.  Rolfe had been scheming up rail systems with rolling logs, if the crates had been heavy.  Ven was glad they had avoided that system—it would have been far too loud.

Ven had worked up a comfortable sweat from running the boxes down the line.  He and Flint exchanged no words; they had the whole thing down to a system now.  Drop the box at the corner of the tall building with the sign painted with flowers, sprint back to the storehouse, pick up a crate—Ven on the right and Flint on the left—lift, and walk as fast as they could back to the drop spot.

On and on it went.  The moon had done them a favor and remained hidden behind some clouds ever since midnight, and they were far enough off the main streets that not many lamps were lit.  So far their mission had gone unnoticed.

Once they got to the quarry, however, and set off all of the explosives, they would have to clear out right away.  They planned to load up all the crates in the center of the quarry and throw one orb at the lot from high above.  Then, they would run as quick as they could south to get away from the Scouts, who were sure to pursue.

The Defenders had packed all of their gear and left it inside the door of their home base, ready to grab once they reached the back gate.  Ven was anxious to get back to Meadowcity, so they could tell Gero where Sylvia had gone.  He was considering suggesting the Defenders take a trip to the fifth city next.

At last, Ven and Flint slowed to a jog on their way back to the storehouse when they saw Dahlia, Harry, and Tems headed their way.  Tems and Harry carried a box between them.  Dahlia was smiling, and Ven’s heart lifted.  The storehouse must be empty.

“That the last of ‘em?” Flint whispered.

“‘Aye,” Harry replied, and the older man’s face lit up in a smile.  It was the first time Ven had seen that much emotion on the surly man.  It was contagious; Ven cracked a grin, and they turned foot.

Ven, Flint and Dahlia ran on ahead down the line, with Harry and Tems following with the last crate.  They passed Ash and Arden and instructed them to move to the end of the line once they were done; and gave the same message to the rest as they passed.

After running by Andred and Morgain, they found the end of the line.  The two Lightcity Riders had been depositing their crates in the dark shadows of an old wood shop.  It was time to extend the line.

But before they grabbed the first crate, Dahlia spoke.  “What about the stash at the barracks?” she asked.

Ven wiped his forehead with his arm and looked to Flint.

“I say we do it now,” Flint murmured.  “Not wait til we’re done moving these, like we said before.”

Dahlia nodded.  “I’ll go.  Bring ‘em back to the line, and we move them along with the rest.”

“Alright,” Ven agreed, though he felt uneasy about separating the group too much.  “But wait for Tems,” he added.

He and Flint reached down to grab the first crate.

Though he was beginning to tire, his heart continued to feed him energy.  The rush of what they were doing kept him going.  With every crate they placed, he thought,
one less crate of explosives for the Scouts
.

Eventually, Ash and Arden, then Jet and Vivi passed them, continuing the line even further through the city.  It was slow going, but Ven knew they were making progress.  Soon their line would extend to the back gate, and they would be out of the city, getting rid of Skycity’s advantage once and for all.

It was when Andred and Morgain brought them the last crate that a cold finger of fear iced through Ven’s chest.

Dahlia and Tems hadn’t returned.