The Fifth City (28 page)

Forty Six

Neve gritted her teeth as she approached the Citizen’s Hall, on her way to meet Falcon.  Her stomach twisted in knots as she thought over what she was going to say.

Weeks ago, she had begrudgingly visited him, feeling obligated to tell him what happened to Lightcity.  No one else in Meadowcity wanted to speak to the Scout, and she felt like he needed to know what happened, what he had been somewhat responsible for.

He had been staying in the Citizen’s Hall—though he would call it
locked in—
since they arrived.  It was true, there was a guard at his door, and he wasn’t allowed to go further than the washroom, but Neve understood Gero’s caution.  Everyone here hated the Scouts, and Neve knew better than anyone how he could deceive.

Ever since she had broken the news to Falcon, she had reluctantly agreed to visit him sometimes, though she offered no promises as to how often.

The closest person Neve had to a friend in the city, Ember, had left a few days ago for Riftcity.  Neve had declined the offer to go, though she had been flattered Gero had asked her.  She wanted to stay with her uncle.

Having no home to return to, Harry had been offered a place in another Meadowcitizen’s house, and Neve continued to stay with the Thornes.  The Rider’s parents joked about Ember, and now Neve, being their replacement for a daughter.  Neve assured them—and Sylvia’s sister, Sonia—that the Rider was safe, that the people in the fifth city wouldn’t hurt her.  She truly hoped she was right.

Neve approached the room that Falcon had been assigned, and she nodded to the Defender standing outside.

She knocked, and Falcon appeared a moment later.  His face was clear of bruises now, and the past few weeks had greatly helped the rest of his wounds, which the Healers had expertly treated on Gero’s orders.

He smiled.  Her heart constricted at the sight of it.

“Hi,” she said.

He opened the door wide, and with an exaggerated look at the Defender, pulled two chairs to sit right in front of the doorway.  Neve took one, and he lowered himself into the other.

The room was pretty barren—it was an unused office in the Hall’s basement—but they had provided a bed, a table and a few chairs.  She spotted a book resting open on the table.  She knew he was being treated well; she had begged Ember to talk to Gero about it, and the redhead made sure he was taken care of, even if she didn’t like the Scout.

Neve missed the Riftcity girl already; she had been the only person here that didn’t make her feel guilty, or confused, every time she saw them.  She still felt awful for leaving her uncle, and of course every time she thought of Lightcity, she thought of the orbs.  And then there was Falcon…

“Come to forgive me?” he asked, turning a corner of his mouth up in a half-smile.

“Falcon…” she complained.

“Never mind,” he said quickly.

It was always so hard with Falcon.  They had been so close, and now she just wished none of it had ever happened.  “Listen, Gero’s said he’ll let you out of the Hall—”

“Really?” he sat up straighter in the chair and glanced at the guard at the door.

“—If you’re given a job.”

“What kind of job?  I can’t exactly do any exploring.”

“Well,” she paused.

Was it really worth it?  Should I really be doing this?

“I have a job for you.”

There, she said it.  There was no going back now.

“My uncle and I are setting up shop with one of the glassworkers.  If Meadowcity’s going to have any protection at all, we’re going to need help.  We’ll need to make our own weapons.”

Forty Seven

Oliver silently walked Sylvia back to her room, correctly guessing that she didn’t want to talk.  He said he would be in the castle the rest of the day setting up for the ceremony; so whenever she was ready, she should link him.

Inside her room, she found that her weapons had been returned to her, and she nearly cried when she saw the knife Ven had given her.

She wasn’t ready to go home.

In a daze she pulled her pack out of her wardrobe and began to sort through her few belongings.  A meal had been laid out on her table while she had been gone, along with several polished canisters that she could pack food in.

At one point Medina came by her suite, and Sylvia really
did
cry; the woman had been like a mother to her during the strange and confusing time spent living in the castle.  For the first time, Sylvia promised aloud she would return one day.

But how was she to find Atlan?  She had never figured out where he stayed in the castle, though she could go through the halls with the map again, reading the names of the rooms.

And then it dawned on her—she could just link with him.  She was only just getting used to what it was like to live in Seascape.  It wasn’t fair that she had to leave.

She pulled on the half-sleeve that was now rightfully hers, and connected in an instant.  She sent her mind forth to find Atlan, sending a coil of her light to seek him.

Atlan?

Sylvia!  You finished your Trial quick, didn’t you? 
She could feel the smile in his voice.

Where are you?
she asked.

He hesitated for a second.
The clearing in the woods.  I needed a break. 
The joy had completely disappeared.

I’ll be there in a few minutes
, she promised, then added,
I have to leave today.

When he didn’t reply, she cut the link and pulled up the map of the castle.  She shut her eyes for a second, then gathered her thoughts and left the suite.

As she followed the labyrinthine corridors down, she wondered if she would be able to link with Atlan while she was away in Meadowcity.  She didn’t know how far the connection would go.  She would have to ask.

She could feel the seconds ticking down the time she had left in Seascape.  Each one tugged her heart further and further away from the island, and from those who held her heart here.  But the plight of those in Meadowcity was greater, and the guilt that swarmed her thoughts was warranted.  She had no right to abandon them.  Meadowcity was her home.

Finally she found the last corridor and she bolted out the door and into the countryside.  She ran.  The sound of the ocean soothed her, and she felt safe.  It was nothing like the wilds of the Four Cities.

It wasn’t long until she reached the clearing in the woods, her and Atlan’s claimed place.

He had been pacing the clearing, and he turned when he heard her footfalls through the trees.

She strode to him with only one thought in her mind.  It took only a few steps to reach him.

She kissed him fiercely, with all her soul.  Her eyes closed and his warm mouth responded equally to hers; he wrapped a hand around her waist and the other dove into her hair.

And then the bliss burned with savage pain as she remembered.  This was goodbye.

She broke away.  “Come with me,” she implored, the words surprising her as they came out of her mouth.

Atlan took her in his arms, and she brought her hands up to his face, looking straight into those piercing grey eyes.

“I…can’t,” he said, looking away.

I understand
, she linked to him.

He shook his head.  He tried to smile, but she could see something was wrong.  The light disappeared from his eyes entirely.

“Sylvia, I have to tell you something,” he croaked suddenly, anguish clear in his pained gaze.

Her chest swelled with a sudden feeling of doom.

“What?” she asked, knowing whatever it was, she didn’t think she wanted to know.  What was tearing him up like this?

His jaw clenched.  “Now that I’ve passed the Trials,” he uttered, “Naomi expects me to carry on the family tradition.”

Sylvia’s brow wrinkled.  “But I thought that’s what they were all about—earning your heritage?”

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, pulling away and taking his head in his hands.  “My
heritage
is the problem.  I don’t know if I want to—be like them.”

“What do you mean?”  He was starting to scare her.

“Do you know about the founder of Seascape, Karalyn Arcere?” he demanded suddenly.

Sylvia nodded, a wall of dread building in her heart.  What did that have to do with anything?

Atlan inhaled deeply.  “Lady Naomi—my mother—is her granddaughter,” he whispered.

“Granddaughter?” Sylvia repeated, baffled.  “But the Four Cities were founded over a thousand years ago.”  Her eyes narrowed. “That’s impossible.  She’d have to be—”

“Over two hundred years old,” he finished.

Forty Eight

This is so weird,” Flint said as he and Ember hopped over a little stream.
“Weirder than what?” she asked.

Ember was delighting in the fact that they were finally on their way to Riftcity; and that Gero had taken her so seriously and given her a good group of people.

“It’s just, I actually remember this part of the wilds—that stream even—from when I came back last time with Sylvia and Ven.”

Ember’s eye’s flicked ahead to where Ven marched along, silent.  He hadn’t taken Lightcity’s destruction well—not that it was something anyone could easily cope with—but he seemed to blame himself.  Ember had spent plenty of time on their trip talking to Flint about what happened.  None of them could have seen
that
coming, and she certainly didn’t think it was Ven’s fault.

The sun had set, but they moved along through the shadowed forest, many pairs of eyes watching the woods for Scouts or their beasts.

They were getting close to the city now.  Many of the Riders who had returned from Lightcity had volunteered for this journey, in addition to ten others from Meadowcity.  Ember felt relatively safe in the wilds with such a large group, not to mention Luna following at her heels.

She didn’t think Sylvia would mind that she took the wolf with her; besides, Ember had spent just as much time training the wolf as the Rider had.  And who knew when Sylvia would get back from Seascape.

Ember and Flint had debated whether or not the secret tunnel to their villa might have been discovered, and Ember had won out; she didn’t think the Scouts were that smart.  So their contingent was coming up from the south to locate the tunnel entrance.  It was their best chance to get into Riftcity.

Ember was itching to do something to free her home.  Without Riftcity, Greyling would have almost nothing left.

The light was fading fast as they came up on a rise, covered in oak trees that cast their long shadows down the slope.  Ember and Flint reached the front with Jet, who was leading the way.

The crack of a stick was all the warning they had, but it wasn’t enough, for Ember was suddenly staring down an arrow aimed at her head.

In the shadow of a tall oak, a woman stood, bow drawn.  Out of the corner of her eye, Ember could see others appear from the shadows, arrows aimed at the rest of the group.  They were surrounded.

“Move, and I pin the back of your skull to a tree.”  The woman leaned forward into the light.

“Aunt Rekha?” Ember cried.