A Rift Between Cities (Arcera Trilogy Book 3) Read online

“Willful. Proud,” Atlan supplied with half a grin. “I just need a way off the island...” he trailed off.

  Ingram stroked his beard in silence.

  Atlan’s heart fluttered in his chest as he made up his mind. “Do you remember when I was little, and Lady Naomi would joke about flying off to help the Four Cities when something came up on the vids?” The words came out in a tumble before he could take them back.

  “Flying?” Ingram repeated in a low whisper, easily catching the right word.

  Atlan nodded. His father pulled on his beard again in thought, then sighed.

  “I’ve only been in one once,” he murmured, as quietly as the flames cracking in the fireplace behind them.

  “But if you’re serious, I think I might be able to help you.”

  It felt as if Atlan’s heart stopped. “Really?”

  “Really. But it’s late. I’ll clean up dinner—why don’t you go to bed, or sneak off to the library like last night.” Atlan could have sworn his father winked at him.

  He couldn’t believe it. He had taken a chance, and it would pay off. Never could he have taken that chance with anyone in Castle Tenny.

  He had already passed under the threshold when he heard his father call his name. Atlan turned back; his father looked uncharacteristically sad.

  “Why don’t you call her your mother?” he asked simply.

  Tears sprang to Atlan’s eyes without warning. He dashed them away with the backs of his hands.

  “If she treated me anything like you did, I’d be proud to,” Atlan said, and turned away before the sadness could come back.

  Sixteen

  Broken hand tightly bound and strapped to her middle, Ember strode across the rebel camp over to Ven. He was busy packaging up some supplies for the refugees, who would soon be leaving the camp for Meadowcity. Ember’s wolf Luna followed her silently, darting between the rocks strewn over the mountainside.

  Ven gave her a forced smile as she approached, but she grinned at him anyway. Luna came up behind Ember and thrust her furry head into her good hand; Ember obligingly scratched the wolf’s ears.

  “I’ve got three more packs of provisions,” Ven said, guessing that was why she had come over to his side of the camp. “When are they leaving?”

  She perched herself on one of the many rocks. Luna turned south, her nose in the breeze, ever watchful.

  “We are leaving in an hour,” she said, casually adjusting her sling with her good hand.

  “We?” he echoed sourly, not missing her emphasis.

  “Yes,” she said, “You, Striker and I are escorting the refugees to Meadowcity. And no, you’re not getting out of this one,” she added before he could open his mouth to retort. “Apex let me pick my team, and I picked you and Striker,” she concluded.

  He huffed instead of replying, and closed the flap on the provision pack with an entirely unnecessary amount of force, Ember observed.

  After their last mission, she had decided enough was enough. Their lives were so fragile, so precious, there was no time to waste in melancholy, so she would help him the only way she could—with force. If anyone could pull Ven from his depression, she could.

  An hour later, two dozen of the latest refugees followed Ember and Luna through the woods outside Riftcity. A few of those they had rescued had opted to remain behind and fight, and those fleeing to Meadowcity were mostly children and their parents, or those too worn out to fight. Little Laurel and her parents were nearly cheerful as they departed from Riftcity, eager to be away from the awful memories of the last months.

  Ven skulked at the rear of the party, while Ember led the group to a stream and she instructed everyone to refill their water canisters. Luna dipped her head to the stream and quickly lapped up the cool water.

  Ember had made the same journey once since returning to Riftcity, escorting more refugees, but her wolf Luna now knew the paths much better than she did.

  Since meeting up with Sylvia after the Rider’s return from the fifth city, the idea of communicating with someone instantly had hidden in the back of Ember’s head until she came up with an idea of her own.

  With Sylvia and the Defenders’ help, along with anyone who passed between the two Cities, they trained Luna to navigate the paths. Now the wolf acted as their very own Rider. Messages could be sent between the two Cities, tied to a special halter Luna wore.

  The first time she had sent Luna to Meadowcity alone, they were anxious all week, but the wolf eventually returned to camp, a wolfy grin upon her snout, and a message from Sylvia around her neck. Ember had burst into laughter and run to hug the wolf.

  When she wasn’t running messages, Luna followed Ember wherever she went. Though Sylvia had originally rescued the wolf, they had both trained her over the winter—and, Ember liked to think, the wolf just liked her better. Besides, they had found the cub just outside of Riftcity when the mother wolf was killed by one of Greyling’s orbs. Luckily, Sylvia hadn’t argued with her about it.

  After everyone finished at the stream, she let Striker lead, then casually dropped back to walk with Ven as the large group sluggishly moved out.

  Ven met her eyes, noting her presence, but she remained silent, thinking. When the throbbing in her broken hand had grown to a painful banging, she pulled some yarrow out of her pack and chewed on it. Rekha had done her best to re-set the bones and splint them, but the remaining pain still made her eyes water at times.

  They walked in silence, both concentrating on the surrounding wilds, and the refugees in front of them.

  Ember signaled to Luna to walk on the groups’ flank, and guard them from the side. The wild wolves and mountain lions had so far dared not approach such a large group, especially when they made as much noise as they did. It was the Scouts and their trained beasts that were the danger.

  They continued on without any long breaks until the evening, all eager to put as much distance between them and the Scouts at Riftcity. Even the children refrained from complaining after hours and hours of walking.

  The early summer sun was lingering in the trees when they made camp, and the spirits of the refugees were rising. Some were beginning to see an end to the horrors, but many were still wary. Ember didn’t blame them.

  She made a point of rolling out her blanket right next to where Ven had put his, but he continued to ignore her. She didn’t take it personally, since he ignored everyone these days, unless absolutely forced into a conversation—so she was going to try a different tactic.

  After the provisions were doled out, Ember and Ven returned to their blankets. Ven looked like he was ready to get a nap in before his watch, but Ember stood over him and tapped him with her boot.

  He opened one eye and peered up at her. She was holding a knife in her left hand. His other eye opened almost immediately.

  “I want you to teach me how to fight left-handed,” she said, throwing the knife down on the ground by his hand. She swiped a second from her boot.

  “Right now?” he said, grimacing.

  “Why not?” she asked. “We’ve got nothing else to do. Luna’s patrolling the camp, and Striker’s on watch. What were you going to do, take a nap?”

  He picked up the knife, bristling at her tone. “Fine,” was all he said, and stood.

  It took half an hour of sparring before Ven’s face relaxed, finally losing the creases around his eyes as he buried himself in the fight.

  Ember was sweating. The evening was still warm, and her body wasn’t at all used to fighting with her left. Different muscles were at work, and they were already sore.

  She saw an opening, lunged for it, and he neatly stepped out of her way, smoothly transitioning into a counter-attack.

  “How do you do that?” she gasped, catching her breath after she dodged his blow.

  “It helps when you don’t broadcast your every move to your opponent,” he said, with a shadow of a smile.

  Ember grinned. “Well, we can’t all be as graceful as you, I suppose,” she bantere
d.

  As she settled down for her scheduled watch some time later, she thought perhaps next time she could even get Ven to laugh.

  Seventeen

  Neve avoided the Citizen’s Hall at all costs now, not wishing to butt heads with the Governor over his unmoving stance on Sylvia’s capture, so she began to frequent the sparring fields instead.

  Painfully reminded of Sylvia’s absence with their skipped sessions, she surrendered herself to the combat training of the Defenders, and lost herself in hours of drills, sore muscles, and the repetition of combat.

  She had seen Gero once since their encounter that night, but neither of them had spoken, merely passed by each other without a word or glance. Neve still couldn’t believe he wasn’t going to do anything to help Sylvia.

  On several occasions, she had debated going over to the Thorne’s villa to see how Sylvia’s family was doing, but she didn’t know what to say to them. She didn’t know how to comfort someone whose eldest daughter was in the hands of the enemy, with almost no hope of escape.

  Sylvia was brave and resourceful; everyone knew that—how else could she have passed those Trials in Seascape?—but what if she couldn’t get past the Scouts? Neve could think of no way to help her friend, so she spent her time training instead.

  Today she was double-tasking, wearing a new prototype of her leather armor as she parried and lunged against her opponent, testing the suit’s flexibility. With the flame and heat testing showing good results, they were well on their way to producing armor for the entire Defender army.

  The woman she was sparring with was sweating from the effort of holding off Neve. Her long black braid had come unpinned from her head, and was flying around as they danced around the sparring circle.

  The match was left undecided when someone came around bearing water for those practicing, calling everyone to a halt. The day was heating up around them, and the sun beamed mercilessly down from the cloudless summer sky. The two woman gratefully dropped their weapons and drank.

  Neve unlaced her chest plate, allowing some cool air to circulate through her sweaty clothes.

  “You’ve gotten quite good, and fast,” the other woman remarked, gracefully folding herself down to sit on the grass alongside Neve.

  Neve smiled in cautious thanks but raised a curious eyebrow at her.

  “I’ve been practicing for months,” the woman explained. “And I’ve only seen you here this past week.”

  Neve shrugged in response. “I was training with Sylvia,” she said, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  Her opponent’s face fell. The news had spread rather fast once Sylvia’s unit had returned.

  “It’s terrible, what happened to her,” the woman admitted.

  Neve couldn’t resist. “I just can’t believe the Governor won’t do anything about it.”

  The woman straightened, her shoulders going back, “Ah, well, I’m sure my husband has good reasons not to send anyone for her.”

  Neve bristled, almost choking on her water.

  “I’m Anna,” the woman said, smiling.

  “Neve,” she offered, shaking Anna’s outstretched hand.

  “You’re the one from Lightcity,” Anna remarked, eying the armor with keen interest.

  Neve nodded. Not quite embarrassed, only disappointed she couldn’t continue her line of conversation, she began to re-lace her armor.

  “So, this is the armor you’ve been developing for the Defenders?” Anna asked. “I wondered why you’d wear such a thing in this heat,” she smirked.

  Against her will, Neve chuckled. She might be the Governor’s wife, but Anna had put up a good fight earlier.

  “We need to test it in fighting conditions,” Neve supplied, rising to her feet. Most of the other Defenders began to disperse, heading home to their villas for a short midday meal. Realizing the time, Anna unfolded her legs and rose, apologizing to Neve.

  “I’ve got to head to the Hall and grab my daughter for lunch. I’m sorry about Sylvia, but let’s spar together another time, shall we?”

  Before Neve could reply, Anna was gone. A grin twisted her mouth as she watched the Governor’s wife retreat, calling goodbyes to others as she hopped down the path toward the Citizen’s Hall.

  She had a feeling Anna was going to befriend her, no matter how Neve might resist it.

  * * *

  She and Anna met daily at the fields for training after that, if only by coincidence. Even if Neve had picked a target all the way on the eastern side of the field, and Anna the west, somehow the Governor’s wife would be by her side a few rounds later, trying to challenge her score.

  Neve didn’t mind it. She didn’t have many friends in the city, but sometimes she couldn’t tell if Anna’s friendliness was genuine or merely a show. Everything she had heard about the Governor’s wife led her to believe she was the kindest person anyone knew, so she tried to accept that Anna only wanted to be friends.

  During practice, they bantered good-naturedly about their archery scores, and took turns walloping each other in the sparring rings.

  Since Sylvia’s abduction, the Defenders no longer went outside the city to train. This did nothing to diffuse Neve’s anger toward Governor Gero—she had thought she might actually be good at training in the wilds, since Sylvia had told her as much.

  Anna began to come by the glassworks shop on occasion, begging to see the newest improvements to the armor or hear about their ideas. It was on one of these days that Anna met Falcon. Neve hadn’t exactly avoided introducing them, she had merely avoided Falcon, as usual.

  They were having a quick cup of tea in the shade outside the shop when Falcon poked his head outside the door. Spotting Neve, he strode over, a tentative smile at his lips.

  She did not return it. Nor did she introduce him to Anna after he had finished asking Neve where the spare fire-proofed thread had gotten to.

  Anna, with her usual social grace, had politely introduced herself while Neve studied the rim of her teacup until Falcon left.

  “My goodness,” Anna remarked, reclining back against the tree they were propped against. “What was that about?”

  Neve rolled her eyes. She didn’t know where to begin, but soon the words began to tumble out of her mouth like the threads of a complicated tapestry, weaving together how thoroughly Falcon had wronged her, and the many ways he had deceived her. The months they had been friends—more than friends—in which he never told her what he was doing with the Scouts. The lies he must have told her to keep the truth of the war from her.

  When he had been stationed in Lightcity with the Scouts, she had thought he was the one person she could be herself around, who didn’t make her nervous, or clumsy. But when Sylvia came to Lightcity, Neve’s whole world unraveled with the truth of the war. Falcon had lied to her for months.

  Eventually, she grew silent when she realized Anna wasn’t listening to each insult with as much intensity as it required. Anna was, for the most part, impervious to insults or slights on other people.

  Anna was quiet for a few more minutes, then finally drained her tea and asked, “Do you still love him?”

  To her absolute horror, Neve felt a hot blush creep up from her neck, staining her cheeks. “No,” she blurted. “Why would you say that?”

  Anna set her teacup down in the grass. “Because it sounds like you do,” she said, with a knowing smile that made Neve want to hit something.

  Neve remained silent as she finished her tea, the question swirling around in her brain unbidden.

  Anna, too, seemed to have been in a world of her own, for, when she spoke next, her voice was so full of sorrow and bitterness that Neve turned to look at her. “Do you know what happened between Sorin Greyling and I?”

  Neve nodded mutely. She had heard about their confrontation when Skycity last invaded, and of the relationship that had brought it about.

  After closing her eyes briefly, Anna continued. “I didn’t listen to him,” she said
in a huff. “On the night I thought he was going to propose, he told me about the fifth city instead. I was furious. For weeks he’d been hiding something from me—but I didn’t want to pry—and when it finally came out, instead of saying something, I left.”

  Neve stared at her new friend, transfixed.

  “Gero and his advisers were in Skycity on a diplomatic visit at the time, and I saw the perfect opportunity to run away. And I took it.” She dropped her head into the hand propped on her knee.

  “And now look what happened,” she said bitterly, gesturing to the world at large. “Sorin went mad, thinking he could rule all of Arcera—but he’s only destroying it.”

  Neve scooted closer to Anna, pulling her hands into her own. “This is not your fault,” she said throatily. “If it’s anyone’s fault, half of its mine—without those orbs he wouldn’t have had the power to do anything.”

  “No,” Anna said grimly, squeezing Neve’s hands now. “We shouldn’t blame ourselves. I just wish I had spoken to him instead of running away.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t fix the past. But Neve, I wish you would talk to Falcon—before something happens that you might regret.”

  Eighteen

  Ven stared down the arrow nocked to his bowstring at the Scout patrol some distance off, and waited for Ember to give him the signal. It came soft and low, like bird song, and he understood she was clear of the stream.

  Reluctantly, he lowered his bow from the detestable men. Killing Scouts would attract too much attention, though, and doing it unprovoked was just plain poor planning. And he knew all about making poor plans.

  The return to Riftcity was much easier than the outbound trip. He hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to shepherd two dozen people through the wilds, many of them children. It had been a relief once they got to Meadowcity and handed them over to Gero’s staff, who set them up with supplies and lodgings. The refugees looked relieved too, upon seeing peaceful Meadowcity and stepping foot behind its treewall.