Meadowcity Read online

  Then the Arcere, the four brothers, decided to unite the land. They travelled across the land, from north to west, from east to south and every direction. They told the people of their plan and put it into action. The brothers built the Cities Four, each to their own kingdom. The eldest brother, Kendrick, chose the highest mountain peak. Kent, the brightest of the brothers chose a flat plain to light upon. Kilis sought a steep cliff face to carve out his fortress. The youngest brother Kal travelled deep into the forest and claimed a clearing by a cool lake in the center of a valley.

  The brothers began to build their cities. The people saw them—mistrusting at first, but soon began to offer their aid. The people in the forest united when Kal began to erect a huge wooden wall. This wall would soon become more, when the first seeds were planted outside it, and through the centuries, would outgrow the wall, and overtake it and swallow it up. The people of the forest felt safe inside the wall, and called Kal their leader.

  The people of the cliffside united as Kilis began the slow work of carving a grand staircase into the stone. Each day he carved another step down the rift, and each day he was joined by another set of hands. Together they carved the Grand Staircase that descends the cliff. As the people came to his aid, more and more doorways were carved into the cliff face until they had all united under his rule.

  Kent’s plain was as flat as could be, but being the brightest of the four brothers; Kent set up his forge and began to melt his molten glass. He carefully blew the glass to create giant globes to hold light. Night after night more globes surrounded his forge, attracting the people of the plain out of the darkness and into his camp. He shared with them the secret of how to make the globes, and the people called him their own.

  Kendrick’s mountain peak was high. But being the oldest brother, and since he had taught Kent about glasswork, and Kilis about stonework, and Kal about woodwork, Kendrick began to create his city. He built high wooden walls surrounding the path that spiraled up the mountain; and the people of the mountain saw him carving into the stone of the mountain, and forging glass, and they came one by one to the mountain top, and took Kendrick as their leader.

  And so the Four Cities came to be, united under the brothers.

  And so it came to be, Sylvia thought. The tale had quite the mythical ring to it. How convenient was it that the brothers each knew a working trade? Although, Kendrick, the oldest, knew them all. Maybe that was why Skycity was obsessed with knowledge. There were always Skycity apprentices to escort through the land, always taking notes to bring back to their city, to catalogue away in their massive library. There were never very successful apprentices from Skycity, only those who came to learn and document it. Tradesman would always take them in, knowing they would never become competition, and accepted the Skycity coin welcomingly. Perhaps they were merely spying on them this whole time, Sylvia thought.

  There were many versions of the founding tale of the Four Cities, but that was the most widely accepted one. The others varied, and one even told of a sister who united those who lived near the water, and created a city on the ocean. Sylvia had always scoffed at this, never having seen a body of water as large as to call an ocean—and she had traveled the land far and wide.

  Sylvia’s footsteps had brought her to the perimeter path at the farming quarter. She had been passing by the fields for a while now, and her boots rung out sharply on the wooden path as she stepped off the stone one. With the treewall on one side, she scanned the fields next to her, searching for her father.

  She had always loved hearing about how the treewall had come to be. She could take that part of the story as truth, since anyone who looked could see the old wooden wall embedded in the trees. Now and then the woodworkers would have a problem on their hands when a tree in the wall became too old or sickly, and they would have to replace it. Here and there new saplings grew, the structure of the wall kept intact by new wooden planks while the tree grew to its proper size.

  She spotted her father, his sandy colored hair shining amongst the wheat, standing with his hands on his hips watching her. The sun glinted off of his hair just the way it did off of Sylvia’s. He wiped his brow as she stepped off the path and down the aisle towards him, careful not to step on anything that was growing.

  “Sylvia, what’s this, visiting her poor father working in the fields!” His face gleamed with sweat in the sun, the wrinkles around his eyes deepened with his smile.

  “Now, you can’t make me feel bad for you when you volunteer for it!” Sylvia cajoled.

  Lark chuckled, “I guess you’re right. To what do I owe the visit?” Then, more serious, “Everything alright at home?”

  “Everything’s fine,” she assured him quickly. “I just wanted to speak with you…”

  She wasn’t sure where to start.

  Lark’s face remained somber, knowing full well Sylvia’s demeanor meant something serious, especially her coming all the way out here just to talk. He slapped his hands on his hips, wiping the grit off of them.

  “Perhaps we should take a walk?”

  Sylvia nodded, trying to arrange her thoughts.

  Lark waved at another workman, indicating his absence. They walked over to the perimeter path, and began to stroll down it. The sun had begun its decline hours earlier, but Meadowcity was still rather warm, and Sylvia was grateful for the shade of this part of the wall. The branches overhead moved almost silently in the slight breeze.

  “Out with it,” Lark said, not giving Sylvia a chance to change her mind. He knew her so well.

  “Well…” she hesitated. “Gero’s given me a journey to take.” She paused, suddenly remembering her promise to Gero not to tell anyone.

  “It’s to Riftcity,” Sylvia divulged, knowing Lark would have heard of the ban by now.

  “I see. What else?”

  “We think there’s been a battle there.” She took a breath, and dove right in, keeping her voice from carrying through the open field. “The Rider from Riftcity was no Rider at all. He was a citizen. Gero think’s Skycity attacked them. The message I carried from Skycity was a threat to Meadowcity…We think Riftcity’s been attacked and the boy was coming to warn us.”

  Immediately she felt a great weight lift off her chest, but the guilt crept up on her just the same.

  Lark nodded. Sylvia saw his eyes narrow, a small crease forming between his brows. “And he’s asked you to go to Riftcity for what?”

  “To find out what happened there while the council deliberates over the threat from Skycity.” Sylvia let it all out in one breath.

  They had stopped walking. Sylvia looked up at Meadowcity, alive in the afternoon light. They wouldn’t be lighting the lamps for another few hours.

  She continued, “We’re waiting until the boy, Flint, wakes up, to hear what he has to say.”

  Lark nodded thoughtfully. He began walking again slowly, farther down the perimeter path.

  “I was wondering if you had—any books on the subject? Books to do with war?” Sylvia asked.

  “I’m afraid not, Sylvia. Nothing reliable. Arcera’s never seen a war,” her father’s voice was suddenly heavy.

  They walked in silence for a few more moments.

  “I guess we’ll have to wing it,” he said, trying to joke and smiling at her.

  Her mother’s request suddenly jumped back to her mind, “Mother told me you’d better be home for dinner on time today,” she said, glad to change the subject.

  “Very well. Well, since I’ve skipped off work already, and we’re already on the right path; let’s just walk back together then.”

  He smiled, wiping his brow once more, and tucked the cloth in his back pocket.

  Chapter Five

  Sylvia, honey, can you light the lamps?” Her mother called, her hands in the water basin, cleaning a glass.

  Sylvia stood from the table and went to the fire in the common area. Taking a lighting stick from the mantle, she stuck it in the fire for a second. There were several lamps in
the kitchen, some mounted on the wall and others hanging from the wooden ceiling by wire. Sylvia lit them all, carefully bringing the lit stick to the coil inside each lamp. Many of the lamps were carefully decorated with designs in colored paint, done by her mother’s hand.

  The villa now gleaming with globe light, Sylvia threw the stick into the fireplace to finish burning. Her father was sitting beside the hearth mending a leather sheath. Just then Sonia bounded into the room holding a chain of flowers in her outstretched hands.

  “Happy Birthday, Sylvia!” the little girl shouted, holding the flower chain out for her to take.

  Shocked, Sylvia accepted the white flowers onto her head. “But it’s not—”

  “You were gone! You were gone when it was your birthday!”

  Not about to argue with her, she scooped the little girl into a hug. She briefly remembered thinking about her birthday as she had waited in Lightcity.

  “Of course, I forgot. Thank you for the flowers.”

  Sonia wiggled out of the hug. Adeline called from over the counter separating the rooms, “Come, now that you’ve spoiled the surprise, let’s eat.” She winked at Sonia, who could not be giddier.

  They all sat at the table, a delicious smell coming from the meal set before them. Sylvia now realized what Sonia and her mother had been plotting, and why Lark had to be home on time for dinner. Her mother filled her plate with roast chicken, potatoes and carrots, handed it to her and said, “Just wait ‘til you see what’s for dessert.”

  Sonia perked up, “It’s—”

  Adeline shot her hand out and covered Sonia’s mouth before she could give it away. The little girl rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Enough secrets, little princess,” her mother said, and Sonia nodded, already reaching for the potatoes.

  Secrets. Sylvia thought. She had never been one to have secrets to keep, and now she felt like she was full of them. She would soon be leaving the city in secret, to sneak into war-torn Riftcity. Her insides burned with guilt at the prospect of not telling her mother yet—or even worse, sneaking out without telling her at all. Sylvia didn’t know which would make her mother worry more—the truth, or nothing at all.

  There had still been no word from Gero or anyone about the boy from Riftcity. Surely it would be any time now. She supposed he must have been exhausted, making the trip from Riftcity, scared, alone and battle worn. She was ready to depart at any minute, but she was glad to have spoken to her father this afternoon first. No matter what, her father believed in her and hadn’t even questioned her determination to travel to the now-dangerous city. His belief could always keep her going, as it had when she had first trained to be a Rider.

  She would just have to tell her mother and Sonia when the time came.

  As her family laughed and joked, and her father began to tell a story about something he and one of the fieldworkers did, Sylvia tried to relax. It was not often that she was able to witness this. Her travels nonetheless helped support the family, but to be able to experience home life from time to time was a great gift.

  She had spent a lot of time with her father as he trained her to be a Rider only a few years ago. After months and months of begging to begin, then hours upon hours of training, he had finally agreed to take her out of the city on a journey. All of her training was to be put to work as they travelled to Lightcity—her first journey. Her father was to lead and show her the path, as he would do for the next couple of months. He showed her the many paths between the Four Cities: which ones to take during the spring, which ones were passable in the winter, and—most importantly—how to survive them.

  During her training, she had spent some time outside of the treewall, taking only short trips away from the city. They began their first journey on a cool morning in the spring. Lark had led the way up the wooden path exiting the city. They reached the top of the incline and they turned back to look at the city. It was an amazing sight in the early morning sun. The city lay nestled in the huge forest covering several hills, fitting right into a dip in the land. Sylvia surveyed the surrounding land, taking in every hill, every detail, as her father had told her to do.

  As he saw her studying the land, he asked, “Now, what is more important than reaching your destination?”

  “Coming home,” she replied with a grin.

  “Very right, Sylvia.”

  He reached out and ruffled her hair, which, back then reached her shoulders.

  “Always take in the land and remember. Always know where you are, and you’ll always find your way back.”

  They began their four day trek to Lightcity, every step Sylvia took making her heart lighter, filling her with an indescribable need to move. She fell in love with the trail, the always changing landscape and the peace of the woods. But on the third day, she found out first hand why so few chose the life of a Rider.

  They had just packed up their camp after having breakfast, and taken to the trail. They were coming around a slight curve and entering a more wooded area. Suddenly her father flung his arm out, softly smacking Sylvia in the chest, stopping her in her tracks. His other hand held up the clear signal for danger.

  Immediately, she tensed into a low crouch, a small trickle of terror creeping up her spine. A short spear was tied to her pack, and she slowly reached back to grab its smooth handle. The whole thing had happened in mere seconds. She could only guess what lie ahead—one of the many predators of the forest no doubt.

  Lark had fallen into a defensive crouch as well, the long blade he carried already unsheathed and ready in his hand. Without looking at her, he slowly pointed to the right, just up ahead on the trail. Peering from between the leaves of a short bush were two yellow eyes.

  A low growl began to emanate from the bush, but the animal still did not move. Lark motioned for Sylvia to fall back.

  Uneasy, she took several steps back, her leather boots silent on the forest floor. To her left was a tall tree, its thick low branches perfect for climbing. She motioned to her father that she was going to climb, and he nodded his head, always keeping an eye on those in the bush. The predator remained unmoving during the entire exchange, still emitting a low growl, still staring.

  Not knowing if climbing would help or harm the situation, Sylvia planted one foot on the lowest branch and ascended a few feet into the tree. Immediately guilt overtook her for leaving her father down on the ground to face the danger alone, and she hesitated in her climb. Something caught her eye though, and she peered closer at the bush.

  The yellow eyes staring at them were attached to a huge cat the size of a man, which was what she expected, but next to its tan fur were several other smaller puffs of fur, each with its own set of ears and eyes. She had cubs.

  The tiniest sigh of relief left Sylvia’s lungs, but they were not out of danger yet. Lark had told her in one of the many lessons all about the predators of the wilds: mothers wouldn’t leave their cubs, but they would protect them to their dying breath if need be.

  She made a small sound to get Lark’s attention, and his eyes darted to meet hers. She mouthed cubs, and his eyes widened in understanding, he nodded, minutely moving his head down once.

  He motioned to her again the signal to fall back, and he began to retreat himself with small, slow steps. He reached the base of her tree as she finished her descent. Together they paced backwards, eyes never leaving those of the mountain lion.

  After they reached a safe distance, Lark pointed to a different direction, one that would skirt them around the mother lion. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Sylvia tried to slow her pounding heart.

  They walked quickly for several long minutes in near silence, putting distance between themselves and the danger. After a while, they reached a ledge, the stone drop off giving them a place to look out at the valley ahead of them. Lark lowered his shoulder pack to the ground and sat on a nearby boulder, pulling his water container out to take a drink. Sylvia leaned against a tree, looking out at the valley, playing out the scene with the mount
ain lion in her head.

  She had seen only drawings of the animal from books that her father had. At the time, the images seemed intimidating enough, but in person, the lion was more terrifying than she could have imagined. She could feel those yellow eyes on her, staring deep into her own, freezing her in her tracks. Sylvia shook her head to clear it, but couldn’t help looking around the nearby woods for a set of yellow eyes.

  Lark handed her his water and said, “You seem to be handling this well,” as his face cracked into a smile.

  Sylvia could not help but laugh, the spent adrenaline making her almost giddy at the thought of surviving her first encounter with the mountain lion. “Well enough,” she replied.

  *

  The memory of her first mountain lion encounter made Sylvia smile. She looked at her father from across the kitchen table and remembered how the rest of the journey he had let her lead, and merely told her which ways to take. He had let her learn the trail on her own.

  A loud knock on the front door cut through the conversation and pulled Sylvia out of her reverie. Knowing it would almost surely be for her; Sylvia rose out of her chair and walked toward the door, her heart pounding. Upon opening it, she found the girl from the Healer’s Hall, Caylee, looking slightly out of breath, still in her Healer’s dress.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, as she looked in on the family, still eating dinner. “You’re to come to the Hall straight away,” she said to Sylvia, who nodded.

  “Thank you,” Sylvia said. “I’ll be there in just a moment.”

  Caylee raised a hand in greeting to the rest of the family and left. Sylvia drew a deep breath and saw her parents exchanging a look. The thoughts in Sylvia’s head, having been circling and clouding her mind all afternoon finally sharpened—the boy is awake.

  Trying to appear casual, as if urgent messages to report to the Healer’s Hall came for her all the time, Sylvia said, “I’ll just see what the matter is and be back for dessert, I promise.” She directed the last part at Sonia, since the girl was looking down at her plate, clearly thinking Sylvia would soon be leaving her.