Meadowcity Read online

  With her eyes half closed, Sylvia looked up at the sky through the latticework of branches. The sun had mostly set but was still throwing light, the deep blue directly above her faded down to a soft white by the horizon.

  “Make sure Flint wakes me up,” she said softly.

  “I doubt he’ll have trouble remembering,” Ven said, and she could hear the smile in his hushed voice.

  As she closed her eyes, she thought she saw the first star of the night wink into existence.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sorin blinked hard as his eyes began to water in the late afternoon light of his office. Looking back down at the map, he squinted as he sectioned off another area of Arcera with his pen, carefully rolling the ink over a ridge in the land.

  Since the search had begun, his map of Arcera had grown in definition, but they seemed no closer to finding the fifth city, or any evidence that it might have ever even existed. Every few weeks a lone Scout would report back to him, each time his hope igniting, but when the Scout opened his or her mouth he knew they were still no closer to finding it.

  He shrugged his fur cape closer about his shoulders as a chill crept through the wide stone room. Now that Midwinter had passed, the days were on their way to getting longer and warmer, but they were still in the thick of the cold season. His boots slid silently across the fur carpet under his desk as he stretched back in his chair, finally pulling his eyes away from the map for what felt like the first time in hours.

  Across the room, the fire crackled in its place along the stone wall, and the promise of warmth drove him from his desk. Boots scuffing against the thick glass floor, he reached the mantle and rubbed his eyes once more, remembering standing here with Savannah not long ago.

  A smile crept up on his face as he recalled her visit this morning. She had stopped by on her way to the bookseller’s store, where she now worked.

  Since Summer’s End, they hadn’t gone too many days without seeing each other, even if only to say hello. It was an unspoken pairing, and Sorin liked it that way. Unspoken nonetheless, Savannah decided to take a job outside of the Hall, to avoid even the possibility of rumors.

  Glaslyn of course found out, or at least didn’t seem surprised when Sorin asked her to find Savannah a position outside of the Hall. The woman found Savannah a job opening at Skycity’s most prestigious bookseller—right next to the Library. It turned out Savannah had beautiful handwriting, and was doing quite well reproducing books. He missed seeing her working in the Hall, but he needed to maintain his professionalism more than ever now.

  The search for the fifth city had to be getting closer, he just knew it. Once found, he would be the one to reveal it to all of Arcera. His thoughts drifted to the book locked in his bottom desk drawer. The shabby leather binding encasing those stiff, waterlogged pages drew his attention daily.

  He wasn’t being greedy, he told himself again. He was just trying to fit all of the facts together, and make sure they were true before revealing anything to the public. It was only a matter of time before they found the evidence.

  The book, which he had titled The Founding, didn’t give any clue as to where the city would be. When Sorin had finally questioned Falx about the book, Falx had only said he found it among stones by the river, on his way back from Lightcity. They had pulled out a map of Arcera, and begun to section off areas as they were searched.

  The expanse of Arcera was a comfortable mystery to most people. The Four Cities were so consumed with their inner affairs that most citizens never thought outside of them. That, and the dangers the wilds held kept curious travelers at home. Riders had no reason to travel anywhere besides between the Cities, and only knew the paths between—because no one paid them to go wandering around the abandoned wilds. Since their search had begun, Sorin and his Scouts were discovering more of Arcera, but still had no evidence of another civilization.

  Growing up, Sorin had watched a few of his schoolmates as they were groomed by their parents to become Riders, and he had envied them. They would always come back in the city with marvelous stories of the wilds, or the other Cities and their wonders. At home in Skycity, Sorin learned from his father how to become a leader, and how the city’s government was held, as was expected of him as first born child. He craved the stories he would hear whispered at the back of the school house and then boasted about during free time. Stories of Meadowcity’s enormous tree gate, towering over the forest; Riftcity, and its villas carved right out of the cliff face. He was enraptured by tales of the mountain lions, and close calls with wolves.

  Only a few weeks after Sorin had gained the seat of Governor, though, one of his former schoolmates, Devon, went missing on a journey to Riftcity. His father, who had trained him, had searched for months, but the fledgling Rider was never found. From the safety of their walls and high mountain, his family and friends mourned.

  On his first trip outside of Skycity, during his first year as Governor, Sorin travelled to Lightcity accompanied by several accomplished Riders—it wouldn’t do to have incompetent protection for the city’s leader. Every other year, each Governor made a trip to one of the other three Cities, as a sign of positive connectivity.

  Sorin remembered vividly his first few hours on the trail as they descended the mountain. His Rider companions were gathered loosely about him, each sporting his or her own capable looking weapon, for which he was grateful. His thoughts had briefly flitted to Devon, whose father never found him out in the wilds, likely torn apart by wolves. But then he gathered his thoughts, not wanting the Riders to think their young Governor was afraid.

  The Riders were a smart bunch and conquered the trail easily. They had a few professional arguments about which routes to take along the way, since they didn’t often travel in packs, but finally after four days on the trail they reached Lightcity. The wide mountains dissipated into a flat plain, and the city glowed like a false sunset in the distance.

  He tried not to gape at the foreign city, since the Riders were used to these sights and more.

  Being the youngest Governor to ever hold Skycity, his naivety and inexperience was something he tried to keep in check always. The other Governors had all held their Cities for quite a while, each continuing to garner their City’s annual vote of acceptance with enthusiasm. Sorin had cast his lot in for Governor when old Mountbreeze had retired—the man had held Skycity for more than twenty years.

  Sorin had finally gotten to see all of the sights that he had only heard descriptions of as a child. After a few years, he had finally seen all of the Cities, met each of the Governors, and had traveled the roads of Arcera, something he never dreamed he would do as a mere councilman or city planner.

  Forearm resting on the mantle; he gazed at the fire, now barely flickering over the hot coals. How he wished he could be out searching now. But he couldn’t just leave. There wasn’t even an ambassadorial trip planned for another few months.

  The questions that had been nagging him since the discovery of the book bubbled up once again: Was the fifth city even real? Why hadn’t anyone heard of it before?

  There were countless books in the libraries and booksellers that told of the founding story. Every child was taught the history in lessons. But The Founding was different than all of the other tales. The unnamed author tells of a fifth character—Karalyn, the eldest of the five.

  The author writes that Karalyn was the one to suggest the idea to unite the land by bringing people together in cities—close enough for travel and trade, but far enough apart so that they could be separate entities. The war torn land should be united, but not too closely.

  Sorin thought there must have been some sort of scandal or conflict that ousted her from history. Why would her and her city be left out, forgotten?

  The respite from staring at the map seemed to help his eyes, which he now focused on the windows, showing what remained of the sunset. The silhouette of the surrounding hills contrasted with a deep orange sky.

  The book was the
catalyst, but it held no answers anymore, it only posed questions. Where was the fifth city? Why was Karalyn left out of history? Sorin let out a frustrated breath and shook his head. He was thinking in circles.

  There was nothing he could conceivably do from the safety of his office. He paced by the fireside, and ran a hand through his thick hair, bringing up the memory of Savannah’s hands running through it this morning.

  They had spent many evenings together this past month particularly, sharing dinner, sometimes taking walks through the Hall’s garden when no one was around.

  He felt he could be himself around her, not just some young politician trying to prove himself, trying to prove he was capable. They shared stories of their different upbringings: he told her of all his days spent following his father around the Citizen’s Hall, and their debates at home as his father tested him on speaking skills.

  The only thing he hadn’t shared with her was the book. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her about it just yet—he had to wait until he was sure. What if it was wrong? What if he had put all of this effort into finding the fifth city, when it never even existed?

  Pursing his lips, he remembered his conversation with Onen, after the man had validated the age of the book. Onen was the only other one who knew about it besides the small company of Scouts, led by Falx.

  Sorin immediately snapped out of his reverie. Glancing at his windows, he remembered he was supposed to meet Falx this evening. The man had asked him to meet after dusk, by the city’s main gate. It was a mysterious request, but the large man wasn’t much for words, he had only said he had something to show him. If it had been the discovery of the elusive city, he would have told him straight out.

  He strode over to his desk and began rolling up his map, pulling a key from his vest pocket and unlocking his bottom desk drawer. Tucking his map away with the book, he re-locked the drawer with a satisfying snick of metal.

  He left his office, the heavy wooden door thudding shut as he made his way down the dim corridor. From beneath his feet, odd shadow and light patterns reflected through the thick glass floor as the sunset faded further into night.

  Reaching the Hall’s circular foyer, he peeked his head into Glaslyn’s office to say goodnight. Her steely curls bounced as she waved, eyes already returning to a ledger set across her desk.

  As hard as it was to keep The Founding from Savannah, it was doubly hard to keep it from Glaslyn. The woman watched over the entire goings on in the Hall like a hawk. Though he supposed it kept him on task as Governor—it was impossible to fall behind on his work with Glaslyn checking in with notes on council meetings, or to drop off an inter-city treatise to sign.

  Stepping into the cold night, Sorin breathed in the freezing mountain air before descending the Hall steps, slipping his hands deep into his pockets. The streets had been cleared of the recent snows, but the chill deepened as the sun drew even further from the horizon. Instead of taking the roundabout processional way towards the gate, he headed for the more direct route, down the side streets.

  The cold bit at his face, the only part of him not covered, and he turned his head down to give it respite from the almost constant mountain breeze. He strode down one last lane and turned onto the processional street, straight for the gate.

  He could see several figures standing outside of the gatehouse, one unmistakably had to be Falx. The man towered above the other two, his scraggly beard visible even from where Sorin approached.

  Sorin slowed, unsure as to who else was at the gate, and what Falx even wanted to show him. The sound of his footsteps echoed off the city’s wall as he approached, and the men’s voices rumbled to a halt.

  The other two men withdrew as Falx stepped forward to meet Sorin, reaching out to shake his hand. Sorin quickly returned his own hand back to his warm fur pocket as Falx nodded to the gate.

  “We’ve got to go outside the gate, and I’ll show you,” came from somewhere behind that beard.

  Sorin glanced around the wide street, empty here at the edge of the city.

  “Outside?”

  What could he possibly have to show him out there? But Sorin’s hope rose. It must have something to do with the fifth city.

  The two men at the gate took a silent cue from Falx, and Sorin noticed that the gate wasn’t fully secure; the bolt only crossed one door. The men pushed the door open enough for Falx and Sorin to walk through.

  As the last of the natural light faded, they stepped outside the stone wall where the only light came through the windows of the gatehouse, throwing their long shadows down the dim mountainside.

  Sorin’s heart jumped a beat when he noticed that another man already stood outside the gate, and he wasn’t alone either. The man held in his hand a thick leather cord that was most certainly connected to the neck of a sinewy mountain lion.

  Closing his agape mouth, he turned to Falx, an obvious question on his face. The tall man grunted and nodded to the man holding the lion.

  “It’s Ripon, sir, a pleasure to meet you,” the man said.

  “Ripon,” Sorin acknowledged him with a nod, squashing the instinct to reach out his hand as his stomach coiled into a tight ball. He fought the instinct to turn back inside the door.

  Noting the Governor’s clear unease, Ripon continued, “This here’s Starling, and she won’t bite your hand off—unless I told her to anyway,” he grinned.

  Sorin stared down at the creature, barely moving as it sat at Ripon’s feet. Its eyes though, tracked him.

  “Well, yes, I’d appreciate you didn’t,” Sorin managed. His heart was still racing, and he hoped the beast couldn’t sense it. He wiped his hands on the insides of his fur pockets, which now seemed too warm.

  “So, you can see why we had to meet out here. I caught her about two months ago outside the city on my way back from Meadow’,” he gestured behind him with his free hand at the surrounding mountainside. Sorin didn’t take his eyes off the lion.

  “I was coming east up the mountain, and I found her down by the lake, head almost in the water. I spotted her from the path, but she didn’t even move. I came down from the ridge and got a little closer, but she just lay there,” Ripon looked down at the fearsome lion with something like admiration.

  “Now, I’ve seen some fierce beasts on the trail. But she was sick. Too weak to get up and slash my throat like I could tell she wanted to. She just stared at me, trying to just move her paws, but they barely scuffed the dirt.”

  “If I’d been a hunter, I might ‘ave put her out of her misery right there. But I thought, what if I made her better? Would she still want to kill me?”

  Sorin finally looked up at Ripon, but the man was looking down at Starling. He thought it strange that one of these beasts could have a name.

  “Well it looks like you succeeded,” Sorin said.

  Ripon nodded, and Falx gave him a look.

  “I’ve trained her to hunt, and she follows all sorts of commands. It was hard training her once she got better, when she got her strength back—we had a few mishaps,” he pointed to a long scar down his neck, now healed.

  “But when Falx asked me to become a Scout,” he grinned at Sorin, “I thought it might help.”

  Sorin raised his eyebrows. Trained beasts on their side. Falx was grinning at him. There was a lot it could do to help.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sylvia rested uneasily while Ven and then Flint went on watch. She remained in a half-sleep until Flint took over, her mind too cloudy to let her sleep properly. She remembered hearing Ven waking Flint to take over watch, and then she must have drifted further into sleep.

  Unformed thoughts of Riftcity swirled around her mind like flies around a carcass, unable to leave it alone. Half-dreams of explosions ripping apart rock, mixed with the sneer of a hunter caressing the head of a lion plagued her.

  So when Flint placed his hand on her shoulder to wake her, naturally, her instincts kicked in. Her free hand shot out and yanked him down by the arm. Completel
y unsuspecting, Flint fell forward and toppled onto the ground. Meanwhile, Sylvia brought her spear to his throat in a swift movement before she even knew what she was doing.

  It all happened in an instant. Sylvia blinked, focusing her eyes on him.

  “Flint?” She looked into his dark grey eyes, filled with terror.

  She flushed and immediately let go of his shirt. She was kneeling over him, and so she held her hand to help him get up.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Don’t worry about it, I shouldn’t have grabbed you. I mean, I know you don’t want to do watch but…” He cracked a smile, brushing the dirt off his hands.

  Syliva gave him a quick smile, her cheeks no doubt still red from embarrassment. She hoped she hadn’t hurt him or anything throwing him onto the ground like that.

  “Bad dreams?” he crouched down to sit next to her.

  She nodded, biting her lips.

  “Me too,” he said simply, looking off into the woods.

  It was properly dark now, but the light of the soon-to-be rising sun was just peeking above the horizon. Sylvia sighed, thinking of what Flint’s bad dreams were probably about.

  “Look Flint, I know you’re worried about your sister, but we’re going to get her.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. He opened his mouth and then cleared his throat, but Sylvia continued.

  “I know you want to rescue her, but you have to promise me something.” She ran her hands down her leggings, smoothing the silky leather. “You can’t do anything stupid.”

  He snorted. Ven rolled over in his sleep, but Sylvia could see he was still asleep.

  She went on, quieter, “If you do something stupid,” she said slowly, “you’ll get us all caught. If you really want to rescue her, we need to stick to the plan—get the layout, get in, figure out what’s going on, and then get out.”

  “So where does Ember fit in?”