Meadowcity Page 14

  Sylvia looked around the room that held the entrance to the tunnel. She briefly wondered whose bedroom it was, then decided it was probably Ember’s. Before the unknown Skycity men had trashed it, it had some fairly small decorative touches that Sylvia couldn’t imagine Flint being responsible for.

  Sylvia took a deep breath and went to the other room, deciding Flint had had enough time by himself, and was probably plotting something stupid by now. Who knows what he might be thinking of doing after seeing his home torn apart like this.

  They entered the main room to see him sitting in a wooden chair, leaning back and looking around, oblivious to Sylvia and Ven.

  Sylvia picked up another displaced chair and righted it, angling herself towards Flint. Ven walked into another room without a word, his eyes surveying everything as he went.

  Flint sat in his chair, clearly lost in thought. Skycity was obviously still here, but what were they doing? Sylvia desperately hoped that Flint’s sister was still alive—not only for Flint’s sake, but so that she could tell them what was going on.

  She glanced at Flint, but looked away when she saw his dark grey eyes focus on her. She looked up and around at the room, looking for anything else to talk about as the obvious absence of his sister seemed to crowd the villa. They didn’t know anything for sure about what happened, and they couldn’t make any decisions until they did.

  Ven silently returned to the room, and Sylvia turned towards him in relief, his eyes sought hers in the dark villa. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, and came over to Sylvia.

  He bent to her ear and said, “I think they’re looking for him.”

  Flint perked up, and both he and Sylvia looked at Ven.

  Keeping his voice low, he said, “The villa’s been searched, and not just for food. All the food’s been taken, so maybe they’re holding everyone somewhere.”

  “The Hall,” Flint said in monotone. “It’s the only place big enough.”

  “They’re probably just now trying to account for everyone,” Sylvia said thoughtfully.

  She bit her lip. This is going to be tricky. With everyone penned in one place, there must be plenty of Skycity men guarding them.

  Sylvia had been in Riftcity’s Citizen’s Hall before, and she thought its great rooms might be big enough to house the city’s population for a time. It was the only building in Riftcity where the facade wasn’t just a door carved into the cliff face. It was carved out farther back with a wide path in front, giving it a veranda. It was the most elaborately carved building in the city, with massive columns carved neatly at its front, the lintel above them set with intricate designs.

  The Hall was on the West face of the city though, halfway between the gate and the city’s end. Flint’s villa was on the East face of the city.

  Just as her thoughts arrived at this new problem, Flint spoke first.

  “How are we going to get across the rift?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Sylvia sighed and eased back from the door frame, careful to keep her motions subtle. The light was fading fast now through the crack in the door, and her stomach did a small flip knowing that they would soon be moving.

  They had spent the day in Flint’s increasingly darkening villa, passing the time watching the city through the crack in the door until the sun was down. They had spent no time arguing over the best time to pass undetected across one of the temporary bridges—night would be best.

  From Flint’s villa they couldn’t see the Hall, but one of the new bridges was just in view. They had seen many pairs of Skycity fighters striding through the streets and paths, making rounds with lions on tethers. They hadn’t spotted too many citizens moving about though.

  Sylvia looked away from the doorway, and turned to see Ven ambling towards her. They had been trading off since mid-day, when Sylvia had told Flint flat out that he was to stay away from the front of the villa when she saw him ease the door open more to widen the crack. The door was the only point they could really see out of since the front curtains weren’t transparent enough for them to see anything in detail.

  As Sylvia turned to sit at the table, she looked at Flint, who made no effort to hide his irritation. His dark eyes—black in this light—bore into the wooden table as if studying the grain, his thick hands tapping silently on the edge of the table.

  “It’s getting dark out,” Sylvia said, voice low.

  Flint blinked slowly and crossed his arms over his chest. His foot beat out a quiet but quick rhythm on the stone floor.

  Sylvia ignored him and pulled a hand drawn map to her. Earlier when Flint was still speaking to everyone, he had drawn out a sketch of their path to the Citizen’s Hall.

  Sylvia brought the map close to her eyes to study it once more, even though she had already memorized the paths and stairs they must take. Blinking, she let her eyes rove around the villa past the markings Flint had made on the stiff paper. Ven stood frozen by the door, probably slipping into hunter-mode, his breathing slow and steady, just waiting.

  She cleared her throat quietly, and Flint looked up at her, resentment deep in his eyes.

  “I’ve got a change in plan,” she announced quietly. “Ven and I will leave at dark and go to the Hall to get Ember. Flint, you’re going to stay here and guard our exit.”

  Flint exploded, roaring back from the table and knocking over his chair.

  “What?” he spat, his eyes livid.

  Ven tensed by the door, his hand immediately going to the knife at his belt, staring outside to see if there was anyone nearby to notice the noise.

  “You can’t leave me here,” Flint hissed, lowering his voice. “You need me to get over to the Hall,” he said, pointing outside at the unseen city.

  Sylvia marched up to him, and could see he was shaking. She waved the map and said, “No, we don’t.”

  “Flint, you’re too—you’re going to get us all killed if we go in there and you decide to deviate from the plan. Look, I know you want to find your sister, but we need to be smart about it.”

  Flint shifted uneasily, but stared back at her defiantly all the same.

  “I can’t trust you out there,” she said steadily, shaking her head slowly. “I can’t take you out there unless you absolutely agree to do whatever I say.”

  Flint lifted his head ever so slightly, his silhouette shifting in the dark.

  “But if I don’t believe you,” she continued, “Ven and I are going alone, and I’ll tie you to that stone door back there,” she nodded her head behind her to the tunnel exit.

  Flint just stood there, his mouth slightly open, staring at her in the dark.

  After a moment he recovered, “You wouldn’t,” he said, dismissively shaking his head.

  A short whistle came from Ven at the door. Sylvia and Flint looked at him sharply, but he was flapping his hand, gesturing for them to come over, a small smile bringing a corner of his mouth up.

  Furrowing her eyebrows, Sylvia stood and headed over, Flint fast behind her.

  “That her?” Ven asked, letting Flint get to the crack. Sylvia gave Flint a sharp look before he pressed his face to the crack.

  A grin spread across his face, stretching the ugly wound on his cheek. He drew back from the door, letting Sylvia have a look, clearly now trying to show her that he could contain himself.

  “Yup,” he whispered, “that’s her alright.”

  Sylvia peered through the thin crack, immediately seeing what had to be Flint’s sister, bright red hair bobbing along between two Skycity men escorting her over the bridge, their arms loosely locked around hers. Sylvia would be concerned except Ember was grinning, talking animatedly—as if she were trying to bargain with the men.

  “Can’t keep herself out of trouble,” Flint intoned, retreating back to the table.

  Sylvia scoffed, unable to help herself. It must run in the family. She headed back to the table, seeing Flint grinning in the dim light.

  “So,” Flint began, all resentment gone, “Wh
en do we go?”

  Sylvia shook her head slightly, holding back a smile. Flint had completely changed, though Sylvia too was glad that his sister was alive, and apparently cocky enough to be causing trouble.

  “You’ll do what I say?”

  “Sure.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes. Fine.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face, clearly elated at the simple fact that his sister was alive.

  Sylvia sighed, not sure if she could believe him or not. But they couldn’t waste any more time. After spending the entire day doing almost nothing, she was itching for action.

  Standing, she reached for her pack on the table, tightening the closures out of habit, and checking to be sure she had everything she needed already out.

  Concealed in her right boot was her long knife, and a second knife was tucked away under her belt. She folded the map and stuck it down her shirt, slipping it between her undershirt and her tight fawn colored vest. Brushing some stray strands of hair out of her eyes, she looked over at Ven.

  “Your pack ready, Ven?” she whispered.

  He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on the slip of city visible through the crack. The light inside the villa was almost nothing now, and Sylvia felt her way to the end of the table to grab Ven’s pack and his bow and quiver. “Flint, grab yours and Ember’s and help me with the door.”

  She could hear Flint behind her as he got up from the table. Shouldering her own pack, she used her free hand to feel her way to Ember’s room, and the tunnel. Flint was surprisingly quiet behind her. They had packed a bag for Ember in hopes that they would find her, with a few clothes and supplies.

  She reached the stone door and set the packs down as she slipped through the crack with Ven’s bow and quiver. A few paces up the tunnel, she placed the quiver upright, and carefully stood the bow against the wall, an arrow already knocked to the string. She reached out a hand and went back towards the door, but her boot caught on something small and it clinked loudly in the empty tunnel.

  Sylvia cursed herself and bent down to find the globes, forgotten in the tunnel after their fuses had burned out. She groped the dusty floor in the dark, finally finding them and putting them by Ven’s bow. It would be pointless to light them now, wasting another layer of the flammable coil—not to mention even finding her firestarter in this light.

  “Hand me the packs,” she whispered as she reached the crack, the darkness making her want to keep her voice low, though they were far from the street.

  Reaching out, she blindly took the packs one by one from Flint and lined them up against the far wall. They hadn’t salvaged much from the villa during the daylight, since it had already been picked clean for food, but they managed to get a few things. Flint had packed Ember’s bag earlier in hopes that they would be leaving with her.

  Sylvia sincerely hoped they would be, for Flint’s sake and for her own. She still hadn’t forgotten their mission—it would just be easier if they had Ember, whom Sylvia now guessed was trying to figure out what Skycity was doing just as much as they were.

  They had now been out of Meadowcity for five days, but a feeling in her gut told her that Skycity wouldn’t strike yet. They certainly seemed to have a mass of people stationed here in Riftcity. She guessed that once Riftcity was firmly under control, they might move on to Meadowcity, depending upon Meadowcity’s reaction to the letter anyway.

  Sylvia’s jaw clenched and she stood, lost for a moment as she felt her way to the stone door. She couldn’t see anything inside the villa as she carefully stepped out, hoping Flint had moved out of the way.

  “Flint?” she breathed.

  “Here,” he answered, right behind her.

  “Let’s shut it.”

  She felt him come up beside her as they both tried to get a grasp on the thin ridge that ran along the edge of the door. It closed very slowly as they pulled, the sound of the stone wheels far too loud for Sylvia’s liking. Even if they left in a hurry, the three—or four—of them could push the door easily to get out. She wondered briefly how it had come to be there.

  When they couldn’t pull anymore, Sylvia ran a hand over the almost non-existent crack, making sure the door lined up with the wall. When they had had more light earlier, they had examined the door and experimented with closing it. Once shut, it looked invisible, lining up with the square designs etched into Ember’s stone walls.

  “Come on,” Sylvia said into the darkness, trying not to trip on anything as she made her way out into the main room.

  Ven still stood immobile at the front door of the villa, his dark silhouette jumping a little in a dim light now issuing from outside. They must have lit the lamps, Sylvia thought as she reached the table.

  “Help me fix the table,” she said to Flint, who grunted in response.

  They silently lowered it onto its side—where they had found it—and each began to place the chairs haphazardly back on the floor.

  “Like we were never here,” she whispered to herself.

  Sylvia carefully picked her way through the shadowy mess of chair legs to the doorway to meet up with Ven and Flint. She ran a hand through her short locks, tucking a strand behind her ear as she met eyes with Ven. He moved away from the door and let Flint take watch as they readied to leave.

  Ven bent down to check the knife in his boot, and stood tall, stretching. Sylvia could see a knife tucked into his belt, standing out against his skin.

  “Everybody ready?” Ven whispered.

  Flint looked back at Sylvia, his dark eyes glinting. She nodded at him, and he opened the door, and the three of them stepped out into the dark city.

  Chapter Twenty One

  The path in front of Flint’s villa was deserted when they filed onto it and turned right. They could see a few people in the distance, so they all fell into an easy walk towards the bridge. The temporary bridge had been constructed out of wood and rope, looking sturdy enough, but they had seen the Riftcitizens taking it with caution. When you’re used to stone, I suppose wood seems rather flimsy, Sylvia thought.

  With the rift to their left, they tried to mimic the people they had seen earlier in the day, not too fast, but not too slow either. The lamps that adorned the wall were lit at random it seemed, so the light wasn’t steady, which was just fine with Sylvia. They would appear to be average citizens unless someone recognized—or didn’t recognize them.

  Ven fell into the lead as Sylvia and Flint walked side by side at the back. She wanted to keep an eye on him.

  Just ahead of them they could see a figure approaching and Sylvia’s gut clenched, she held her breath and forced her hand not to creep up to her belt, where her knife was hidden. The outline of a man was thrown into relief as he passed a lamp, and Sylvia could tell he wasn’t one of Skycity’s men.

  The man’s eyes were focused on the ground, walking quickly. His entire left forearm was wrapped in a stark white bandage. He looked up as he neared them, and caught eyes with Sylvia, then Flint. Sylvia drew a sharp breath as the man’s eyes lingered on Flint and continued walking.

  Heart beating in her chest almost painfully, Sylvia forced herself to breathe as they continued walking.

  “Flint,” she hissed, not moving her lips, after they had walked out of earshot. Had the man recognized him?

  “He knows—knew my dad,” he said, equally quiet beside her.

  Sylvia took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on the path.

  “Nothing we can do,” Ven murmured, keeping up their pace.

  They quickly reached the short staircase down to the bridge’s level. Only a few steps down, and they faced the wooden contraption; Flint balked, but it seemed fairly sturdy to Sylvia. It was as wide as the stone one that had once stretched across it before being ripped apart by Skycity’s fire. Sylvia shuddered as she looked closely at the ragged edges where the bridge was once anchored, wondering how they could possibly protect Meadowcity from this.

  Carefully, Ven mounted the bridge; his shoulders
were so tight his arms held no motion. Sylvia placed a foot on the freshly cut wood and beckoned to Flint, who looked like he was rethinking his decision to come after all. The bridge stretched out far in front of them, not swaying as much as Sylvia thought it would. Below, the rift only held blackness, a light wind howling beneath them.

  As they slowly crossed the rift, Sylvia could see two people get on the bridge from the other end. The added weight did nothing to the bridge’s balance, but as she carefully glanced at the two figures her heart leapt into her throat.

  The shadows were thick out here, since the only light was coming from the two ends of the bridge, but Sylvia could see their thick leather vests lined with fur at the collar— Skycity men.

  Sylvia’s jaw clenched painfully—but they couldn’t turn back now.

  Then, one of the men’s voices rang out across the rift, “Stop there you three,” his harsh mountain accent grating in Sylvia’s ears.

  They froze, Flint awkwardly flinging an arm out for balance.

  Sylvia took one deep breath, and couldn’t let it go. The men approached, as they stood immobile, suspended hundreds of feet from the bottom.

  As they got closer, Sylvia could see that the taller one held a thick knife in his hand, which seemed to be missing a finger. His face was just as rough, a scraggly brown beard meeting up with the grey fur at his collar.

  “You know the rules,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  They stared blankly back at him, frozen.

  “Groups of three ain’t permitted,” the other man said, pointing at them. His face was clean shaven, but dirty with white stone dust, along with his leggings and vest.

  The breath Sylvia held was choking her, but she didn’t know what to say—we can’t split up! she thought wildly.

  But from the front, Ven said coolly, “I’m sorry—I wasn’t really with them, we just kind of started walking together.”

  No! Sylvia thought, her gut clenching, but Ven was already stepping to the side, giving Sylvia and Flint the path.