CHAPTER TWO

Pay heed to the tale of the Scorpion

The Spider’s heir she is, a legacy

And though she soars so high on Eagle’s wings

The sky is not her realm, nor is the sea

In darkness did she first open her eyes

In darkness still she waits, one day to rise

—THE BOOK OF UNVEILING

Darvyn placed the portable radio receiver back in its cradle with a shaking hand. He leaned back to rest his head against the rock behind him. Wind flew across the mountain, chilling him. Those last words, heard through a haze of static, reverberated in his mind.

A man he hadn’t seen in years had located Darvyn through the nested tangle of secret communications frequencies used by the Keepers of the Promise to alert him of the sighting of a woman in Checkpoint Seventeen. A woman matching the age and general description Darvyn shared with trusted contacts. A woman searching for her long-lost son.

He squelched the hope that rose inside him. He’d been disappointed before.

In the desert valley below, soldiers marched, drilling their formations over and over again. Hidden in the mountains above them, Darvyn grasped the bit of metal strung on a leather cord around his neck. The pendant bore the image of a jackal, really just a head and a mess of limbs since it was only half of a whole. This woman in Seventeen was probably nobody. But what if …

The crunch of gravel on the rocky path tore him from his thoughts. Though this section of the mountain was well monitored, his guard remained raised until uneven steps signaled Meldi’s approach. She limped toward him, favoring her right leg. The left one was a wreck of twisted scar tissue, courtesy of the fire that had nearly killed her as a child.

Darvyn rose and reached out to brush her forehead with his fingertips in greeting. She smiled and returned the gesture.

“How fares the Elsiran?” She motioned down to the uniformed men walking in unison far below.

Of the soldiers gathered, one was distinctly unlike the rest. He had the same general features shared by all Lagrimari with hair and eyes dark as midnight, but only one week ago the man’s hair had been its natural ginger color and his golden eyes had glittered with mischief. Jack had gone through the transformation from Elsiran to Lagrimari without complaint. Darvyn admired his friend’s courage even as he feared for his safety.

Darvyn glanced at her, surprised. Only the elders of the Keepers of the Promise were supposed to know of Jack’s undercover mission.

Meldi shrugged. “Voices carry.” The braids twining around her head formed a crown, making her look wise beyond her years. She was only a year older than he, but had a maturity only suffering can bring.

Darvyn reckoned she was right. That particular conversation had grown loud since the elders had not approved. At all. Fortunately, Jack wasn’t a Keeper, and Darvyn didn’t allow a lack of permission to stop him from using Earthsong to transform the man.

He sighed. “His squad has just returned from their supply run. He appears to be doing well. I feel no suspicion toward him from the others. They all seem to believe he is who he appears to be.”

“Do you think he’s found what he seeks?”

Darvyn shrugged. “I don’t know what proof the Elsirans will need in order to believe another breach is coming. But if anyone can find it, Jack can.”

Two weeks ago, Darvyn had sneaked into the neighboring country of Elsira, disguised as a local, to bring High Commander Jaqros Alliaseen a warning. The Mantle—the magical barrier which separated the two lands—was failing. It had stood for five centuries and only been breached seven times, each one resulting in war between Lagrimar and Elsira. But its magic was running out. The next tear would bring it down completely.

Jack had been shocked, but when Darvyn told him the information had come from the Queen Who Sleeps, the young man had leapt into action. Five years ago, the two had met in the aftermath of the Seventh Breach, Darvyn a recently released prisoner of war and Jack a soldier. Darvyn knew he could trust the young commander who treated the Lagrimari trapped in Elsira as men, unlike most of his countrymen.

But the Elsiran government hadn’t trusted Jack when he’d passed on Darvyn’s warning. They could not fathom that their goddess would speak through a lowly Lagrimari. Five years was too soon for another breach, they’d said, so it must’ve been some sort of trick from the enemy. Only if someone they trusted gathered evidence with his own eyes would they take any action. And so Jack had asked Darvyn to take him through the crack in the Mantle and disguise him so he could go undercover in the Lagrimari army.

It was madness. Reckless and foolhardy. Dangerous and desperate.

Darvyn wished he had come up with the idea himself.

Jack had been playing his role for a week now. They had agreed two weeks was enough time to gather suitable information to convince the Elsiran government that it was the truth. Darvyn was ready to pull Jack out if anyone caught wind of the deception, but Jack was apparently a terrific actor.

“You didn’t climb up here just to check on him, did you, Meldi?”

She shook her head and smiled. “Grandfather has summoned you.” Her voice was playful, but when Hanko ol-Darnikor called, it was usually a summons. “Your radio was busy.”

When he started his apology, she waved it off. “Besides, I needed the fresh air. I’ve been cooped up in the safe house for weeks now. I wish I could be off doing something useful.” She bent down to pick at a leaf on a nearby saltbush. Her olive-colored tunic and trousers blended into the desert landscape.

“What you do is valuable, Meldi. Without the safe houses being manned and stocked, none of the rest would mean anything.”

She shook her head, visibly uncomfortable with the praise, then turned to stare at the army base in the distance. “More troops arrive every day.”

Darvyn nodded grimly. Soldiers were being called to the border from all over the country, amassing the entirety of the force. The last stand for the Mantle was coming soon, and they needed to be ready.

He gathered his pack and followed Meldi back down the path, slowing his pace to ensure she could keep up. When they were children, she had been taller than him, but as an adult, she only came up to Darvyn’s chest. With her shorter legs and permanent injury, it was slow-going. He scanned her body with Earthsong for the millionth time, hoping he would one day discover some way to help her, but the old wounds could not be healed.

They approached a crumbling stone shack that backed up to the mountain. It was too small to hold more than four men standing shoulder to shoulder, and the narrow entrance gaped open, dark and uninviting. But any visitor would pass no fewer than three watchpoints and be prevented from entry before they took a step inside. And if they managed to make it in, they would see nothing more than the tiny, shadowed interior barely able to protect them from the wind.

But a Keeper of the Promise would know that things aren’t always what they appear, and the presence of a wall would not deter him. Darvyn and Meldi passed through the barrier, a simple spell Darvyn was nonetheless glad not to have to maintain.

The safe house was cavernous, not naturally created, but cut into the mountain at some point in the past by an ancestor with the aid of Earthsong. From this location, the Keepers could monitor the army base at the edge of the Breach Valley undetected.

Hanko greeted them as soon as they entered the main chamber, smiling warmly at his granddaughter and less so at Darvyn. Behind him, half a dozen men and women pored over maps and other documents spread out on a table of pounded tin. Meldi disappeared into one of the side rooms; Darvyn regretted that she would not be a buffer between himself and the older man.

Nothing in the elder’s appearance was severe; his bald head with unruly tufts of white hair clinging above his ears gave him an avuncular quality. His dark eyes were not steely or unkind. Yet disapproval wafted from his very pores.

“The Elsiran has not betrayed us yet?”

Darvyn ground his teeth. “He risks much for his people, the same as we all do. Why would he betray us?”

“Because he is Elsiran,” Hanko said simply.

Darvyn took several slow breaths to calm his temper. “And yet we need them and their country, do we not?” He looked to the group around the table consumed with their plan making.

Lizana, a towering woman with a short puff of hair, pointed to one of the larger maps. “The places on the border with known cracks in the Mantle have been marked. The Singers assigned to each group will be able to feel them; there will be a disturbance in your Songs.”

“You’ll have to pay close attention,” Darvyn added, walking up. “They’re easy to miss.”

Friendly welcomes echoed around the table as the other Keepers made room for him.

“Nice of you to join us,” a burly, bearded man said. Darvyn merely smiled at Aggar, who scowled in return before turning his attention to the map. “These mountain paths will be treacherous. Can we really expect groups of women and children to make the trip?”

“Our people are strong,” Hanko replied. “They’ve endured much worse for far longer.”

“I still say it’s too big of a risk.” Aggar tugged at his beard. “Perhaps we should wait, consider other options.”

Darvyn shook his head. “We don’t have any more time. The troops are gathering in preparation for the breach. We’re days away, not months, from the Mantle coming down. We need to act now.”

“It is not for you to decide.” Aggar narrowed his eyes, the challenge evident.

“The elders have decided.” Hanko’s voice had an air of finality.

“And the Queen set this in motion,” Meldi said, walking up to stand next to Aggar. At her gentle voice, the furrows smoothed from the man’s brow, and the rough edge of his glare softened. “Has She offered no further guidance?”

Seeing the larger man’s reaction to Meldi stole some of the rancor from Darvyn’s anger. There would never be anything but enmity between he and Aggar, but he was grateful his old friend could soothe some of the man’s beastlier qualities.

The others looked at him expectantly. “My dreams have been quiet,” Darvyn replied softly. Murmurs of disappointment met him, but he was relieved from the reprieve of the Queen’s otherworldly communications.

“Then we must do what we can,” Hanko said. “We will trust in Her guidance.”

“Yes, and hope that Her goals and ours are the same,” Darvyn mumbled. Hanko’s sharp glance indicated he’d heard the comment. Darvyn dropped his head, willing himself to keep the rest of his thoughts about their precious Queen to himself.

“So what now?” Lizana asked. She and Navar were the only other Singers present. The only ones who had managed to avoid the tribute and retain their Songs. Lizana, with her long limbs and leonine features, was far stronger physically than she was with Earthsong. Navar, who usually kept to the background, was a Singer of medium strength. He had been rescued by the Keepers when he was a teen in the army slated to join the Wailers, the regiment of soldiers allowed to keep their Songs for use in battle. Fortunately, they’d been able to get to him before his initiation. No fully indoctrinated Wailer had ever survived a rescue attempt.

“Now, we begin spreading rumors,” Hanko said. “Talk will travel of cracks in the Mantle and seeking safe harbor in Elsira. I have no doubt that people will take the bait. We should be ready to begin leading asylum seekers over the border by the end of the week. And the special contingent of Keepers following the Queen’s instructions will conceal themselves among the others entering Elsira.”

“Will the Elsirans be ready for the influx?” Meldi asked.

“They will harbor us as refugees,” Darvyn said. “Perhaps not well, but it won’t be any worse than life here.” His time as a teen in the Elsiran prisoner of war camps—a result of another one of the Queen’s schemes—had taught him that. The Lagrimari would be considered second-class citizens, eking out a meager existence on the other side of the Mantle.

“Let us recall our vow,” Hanko said.

Darvyn fisted his hands and pressed them together, old resentment bubbling to the surface. As one, they spoke the words of the ancient promise that all Keepers held sacred:

“While She sleeps this promise keep

That She dream of us while for Her we weep

May She comfort, counsel, guard, and guide

Those whose love will never die

And when Her betrayer pays for his lies

And finally the World After occupies

May love’s true Song with Her remain

And awaken Her that She may rule again.”

The meeting concluded and Darvyn waited impatiently for Hanko to finish a conversation with one of the safe house radio operators. As soon as the operator moved away, Darvyn pounced.

“I need to go to Checkpoint Seventeen,” he said in a low voice.

The old man raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve gotten word that there may be … That is, it’s possible…” He shook off the discomfort and powered on. “A woman fitting my mother’s description was spotted there. I have to go investigate.”

Hanko sighed deeply and pulled him into a corner away from the others, placing a gnarled hand on his shoulder. “It has been nearly twenty years since she disappeared, oli.”

He bristled at the endearment, one generally used for a small child, and pulled away from the man’s touch. “I know it’s unlikely, but it’s not impossible. And as long as there’s some hope…” He trailed off, shaking his head. His finger moved to the pendant around his neck, the metal warm from his chest.

“Your mother is gone, boy. She left you in our keeping and hasn’t been seen since.” Hanko’s severe expression mellowed. “As hard as it is to stomach, it was for the best. She gave you up to keep you safe, knowing how valuable you would be to our cause.”

Darvyn’s jaw set. Hanko closed his eyes for a long moment. “If you want to go to Seventeen I suppose I cannot stop you. But—” His stern look cut off Darvyn’s growing smile. “There is an urgent matter that has just come to my attention that must be seen to first.”

Hanko turned back toward the table, still holding onto Darvyn’s shoulder. “Aggar, Lizana, Navar.”

Meldi stood next to Aggar, looking hopefully at her grandfather, but he merely shook his head. When the others approached Darvyn and Hanko, she turned to limp down a corridor.

Hanko cleared his throat. “I’ve just been alerted that our Watchers have located the nexus of a network of nabbers. This group may be responsible for the staggering increase in kidnappings over the past weeks.”

Lizana’s eyes widened. “When I was in Sayya last week, word was that workers at the mines and camps are disappearing at unusual rates, too. The nabbers may be meeting the demand for new labor with these children.”

Hanko nodded, his expression grim. “We need a team to monitor the activities of these nabbers and rescue any children they are keeping at this location. Disrupting the flow of labor is more necessary than ever with the impending breach. Aggar, you will lead the effort.”

“I’ll need a few more men.”

“Gather who you’ll need, but we cannot spare any more Earthsingers from the Mantle crossing.”

“And where were these nabbers sighted?” Aggar asked.

“Checkpoint Six, headed east.”

Darvyn’s heart sank. That was hundreds of kilometers from where he wanted to be and going the wrong direction. “Am I truly needed for this mission?”

Aggar rolled his eyes.

“Start your preparations and keep this confidential,” Hanko ordered; the others moved away once again leaving the two of them alone. “Darvyn—”

“Lizana and Navar are very—”

“They’re good and loyal Keepers,” Hanko said, “but there are children to be saved. The Shadowfox could make the difference here.”

“The Shadowfox cannot be everywhere.” Darvyn crossed his arms.

“And so should he be at Checkpoint Seventeen where the need is smallest? Or will he rise to the task at hand, defending young ones from tribute and lives of toil and slavery?” Hanko lifted a shoulder. “You are your own man. I cannot tell you what to do. But our people suffer every day under the thumb of the immortal king. Our lives are spent in service not to ourselves but to others. Many have sacrificed so that you may stand here today to make this choice.”

The old man bowed his head and walked away.

Darvyn rubbed the back of his neck, squeezing it tight enough to crack his knuckles.

The metal of the pendant felt cool now. Just like his hopes of finding the woman who had given it to him.