SAEMUS WAITED IMPATIENTLY FOR FEEROR and Moylir to return. Dread made his blood run cold. He tried to convince himself the vibration wasn’t getting worse but the when the leaves on the trees began shaking, he couldn’t ignore it.
“The townfolk are ready to turn back. Rome is going to need your help to keep order,” Keera said.
Saemus ground his teeth in frustration. “Stay here. As soon as you spot Feeror or Moylir, get word to me immediately.”
He strode away from Keera and toward a commotion he only now noticed. Raised voices reached his ears but he was too far away to hear what they were saying. As he approached, he spotted Rome in the middle of a small group of people. His face was red and he jabbed a finger at the man directly in front of him.
“I’m still the leader of the village council. Everyone stays here until I say otherwise.”
“We don’t fancy staying here until whatever is up in them mountains comes down. We were safer back home,” one man said.
“Until the two strangers return with word of what is in the mountains, we will remain here.” Rome stood his ground.
“What are you gonna do if we decide to leave?” the man puffed up his chest.
“You would go against the village council leader?” Saemus asked, barging into the middle of the ring of men surrounding Rome.
“It ain’t fair that one man decides the fate of us all.”
“It’s not one man. The council decides the fate of the village. All of them are men you voted for. If you don’t like how this council works, you can vote for new members next summer,” Saemus said.
“We don’t have time to wait till next summer! We want to get our families out of here now.”
“I know you’re afraid. Your whole world has been turned upside down. But that’s no reason to let fear rule your thinking.”
The man opened his mouth to object but closed it with a snap. Rome took advantage of the moment of silence. “Please, go back to your families. Once we know what we are dealing with, I will send word of the decision the council makes.”
Rome helped ease the men back down the mountain to where their families waited. When they were out of earshot, Rome turned to Saemus.
“Glad you showed up when you did. I was afraid it was going to come to blows.”
“They are afraid. I don’t blame them. Part of me wants to run back home, hide under my bed, and hope for the best.”
Rome snorted. “You’d never hide.”
Saemus gave Rome a small smile. “Sometimes I wish I could. Pretend I had never heard of the Mekans.”
“I guess I can understand that.” He met Saemus’ eyes. “What will we do if the Mekans have indeed landed up in the mountains?”
Saemus shook his head. “I don’t know. I was sure the Mekans would move across the land from east to west. If they’ve split up, they could be anywhere.”
“If they are on the mountain, the council will want to move back down to the plains.”
Saemus nodded. There would be no reason to keep going higher into the mountains if there was a machine there waiting for him.
The people are lost either way.
Saemus snarled at the voice in his head. He refused to believe that all hope was lost.
“Saemus, they’re back!”
He turned and spotted Keera running toward where he and Rome stood in the shade of a tall pine tree.
“What did they see?” he asked.
The fear in her eyes was answer enough.
Rome clenched his jaw. “I’ll gather the council.”
“What do we do, Saemus?” Keera asked.
“Pack your gear. I have a feeling the council will order everyone back down the mountain.”
***
Jon spotted the Mekans as soon as they had left the camp site. Their metal skin played peek-a-boo through the trees. Once they were clear of the dense foliage, Jon got a good look at the machines.
The smallest of the Mekans was so large it could have crushed the entire village of Heart Stone. It had two tracks with heavy tread that chewed up the dirt and trees, leaving chunks of foliage and large tree branches stuck between the tread. When it stopped, a small drill emerged from the belly and tore into the earth. The Mekan moved off to the side. Two arms emerged from the sides of the machine and sifted through the pile of dirt, picking up rocks and stacking them off to the side. Another machine came along and picked up the rocks using its long metal arms, and then placed them on a moving ramp. The rocks disappeared into the body of the machine.
The larger of the machines sat quietly. When the Mekans were finished picking up the piles of rocks, they would disappear into the largest of the machines. Jon supposed they were dropping off their cargo. In moments, they emerged to gather more rocks.
As the sun set, the scene became even more frightening. Lights in hues of red and blue dotted the heads and sides of the Mekans, bathing the area in an eerie glow. Jon swallowed hard. The machines were more terrifying at night than in the full light of day.
The horses fought their riders every step of the way, jerking their heads back and forth, trying to back up and run in the opposite direction. It was worse for the men handling not only their own horses but the pack ponies as well. A string of curses flew from their clenched jaws.
Jon’s arms ached and burned. Each moment weakened them further. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer.
A sharp yell and a shrill squeal sounded just behind him. Jon turned. One of Fa’ Vel’s men was lying face down in the dirt, his horse loose and running. Another wheeled his horse, intending to go after the runaway beast.
“Leave it! In fact, let them all go. I don’t fancy fighting them all the way to Faerow,” Fa’ Vel shouted.
“What will we do with the tack and supplies?” Jon asked.
Fa’ Vel paused, then shrugged. “Take what you can carry and leave the rest on the blasted animals. Some lucky fool will think the good Spirits have smiled down upon them.”
Jon moved to the back of his horse and cried out in dismay when he noticed his pack missing.
“We have plenty of supplies. I don’t see what you’re so upset about,” Gelrond said.
Jon didn’t say anything. He took the saddle off his mount and slapped it on the rump, wishing he didn’t have to leave the animal to make it on its own.
You don’t need the book. You won’t turn out like Anali.
The voice comforted him. He had learned so much under the tutelage of Fa’ Vel that he could now control the power rather than letting it control him.
Fa’ Vel’s men turned their horses loose with hardly a backward glance. Jon had a more difficult time. With all the extra baggage, the animals would be easy prey. He started unbuckling the saddle but one of Fa’ Vel’s men slapped his horse on the rump, sending the animal squealing in fright.
“If Fa’ Vel wanted us to take the saddles off he would have said so,” the man said, spitting a dark wad of chew near Jon’s left foot.
As they drew closer to the city and the Mekans, the noise from the machines grew almost unbearable. Fa’ Vel instructed the men to place folded bits of cloth in their ears. The closer they got to the city, the more people they began to see, some in horse-drawn wagons, most with only what they could carry on their backs. The terrified people stared at the men going in the direction of the machines as though they were insane.
It’s not far from the truth.
Fa’ Vel stopped and spoke with a man at length, but with the cloth in his ears, Jon couldn’t hear what they said. Fa’ Vel veered off to the left, heading for the main road. Jon kept his eye on the machine. If it came their direction, they wouldn’t have much time to get out of its path, especially now that they were on foot. The machines hadn’t made it to the city yet but Jon knew it was only a matter of time. The smallest of the Mekans could crush the walls easily.
The gates of Faerow were open and the usual guard was absent. There were only a few stragglers moving out of the city. Jon assumed most everyone had left when the machines had first appeared. The city was cloaked in an eerie silence that was deeper than just having his ears plugged. The last time he had come here, the city had been full of townsfolk and palace guards, dogs, cats, chickens. The noise had been overwhelming.
Because of the cloth in his ears, the only thing Jon could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his brain. Sudden movement off to his right made his heart beat faster. Two men dashed down an alley, arms loaded. The building they exited stood with the door smashed to pieces.
Fa’ Vel motioned several of his men toward several buildings. Jon watched in disbelief as the men returned with their arms full of various items. Fa’ Vel passed the items around to the other men. Their mouths were open in laughter. Jon refused to accept the expensive clothing Fa’ Vel tried to hand to him.
--Just take it, boy--
Jon’s eyed bulged at the voice in his head. Fa’ Vel smirked, the scar drawing his mouth into a sneer.
--It’s not your imagination--
“How are you doing that?” Jon shouted.
--It’s quite easy. Just takes a little practice--
Jon shook his head. –That’s it? Just a little practice?--
Fa’ Vel nodded, then stopped short and stared at Jon. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. –How is it you can speak to me with your mind? I never taught you to do that--
Jon answered with a smirk of his own. –There’s a lot about me you don’t know--
Fa’ Vel stared at Jon, his black eyes expressionless. –Obviously--
--So what’s your plan? Try to speak to the Mekans this way?--
--Yes. Every other attempt at speaking to them has failed, so I thought this might work--
--I still don’t understand why you are trying to communicate with them at all. Why don’t you put your mind to use trying to find a way to destroy them?--
Fa’ Vel threw back his head and laughed. –I don’t think it’s possible, boy. But if we can get on their good side, maybe we can get through this alive--
Jon shook his head. –You really are mad--
--Indeed, my dear boy, but I’d rather be mad and alive than sane and dead--
Fa’ Vel moved off, sauntering down the street as though he didn’t have a care in the world. His men moved through the abandoned buildings, stealing anything they could get their hands on. As they approached the palace, Fa’ Vel slowed. He pointed to Jon and his men, indicating they were to stay put. The dark magician slowly entered the palace through the main gates.
Fa’ Vel returned and beckoned his men forward. He pointed inside the castle.
--The palace is deserted. No reason we shouldn’t use it as our base of operations--
--You didn’t kill anyone, did you?--
Fa’ Vel laughed so hard Jon could hear it despite the cloth stuck in his ears. The dark magician tried to control himself several times but each time he caught his breath, a new fit of laughter doubled him over. Jon tapped his foot, waiting for the man to wipe tears from his eyes.
--I haven’t laughed like that in a long while--
--I don’t see that what I asked was particularly amusing--
--Of course you don’t. Well, your tender little heart can rest assured. There isn’t a soul in the palace--
Was there any before you got in there?
Jon used the tricks he had learned from communicating with the Kromins to keep that last remark to himself.