The City in The Sands

The City in the Sands
Andrew Layden
Copyright © 2022 Andrew Layden
All rights reserved. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given
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Layden / The City in the Sands / 1
The Wise One’s Tear

Paralyzed by fear, I lay in bed until broad swaths of gold light shone into our hut. Maybe if I
didn’t move, the day would pass by unnoticed. Maybe if I closed my eyes, my responsibilities
would disappear. But I knew it wasn’t true. The trial started at midday. It wouldn’t be long.
This was, of course, the biggest day of my life. But I hadn’t prepared, and I wasn’t ready. It
wasn’t a surprise really. Everyone knew I was lazy and weak.
Father named me Dekanawida after a great peacemaker of the past. In the old tongue, it
means “two river currents flowing into one.” No doubt, the name was supposed to carry some
profound meaning about unity and diplomacy. But I never lived up to it.
There was talk of changing my name for something more fitting. It’s a common practice in
the Alguin tribe. After mother died, father took the name Rahrakwasere, “he who follows the
moon,” because his heart longed for something he could never grasp. As for me, the tribesmen
decided to interpret my name more as a reflection of my carefree, go with the flow attitude.
“Is he still in there?” someone said outside. I recognized the tender, girlish voice as that of
my friend Adsila. The day before, we planned to race along the river path and skip rocks until it
was time. We agreed it would be a good warm-up.
“Hasn’t left his bed,” father said in a calm and quiet tone.
Knowing Adsila wouldn’t let me rest, I dressed in my deerskin tunic. By the time I finished,
Adsila was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.
“I know,” I said. “I didn’t forget. I just …”
I expected a disappointed glare. Instead, Adsila gave me a warm smile. “You’re nervous. I
get it,” she said. She turned and led me outside. The thick forest trees swayed in verdant gowns.
get it,” she said. She turned and led me outside. The thick forest trees swayed in verdant gowns.
Their broad, green leaves were full of life, and the air was sweet with the scent of maple and
pine. Not far off, father smiled and brushed back his hair, which already glistened with sweat.
“There’s still time. We can go to the river if you’d like,” she said. I shook my head. “Well, at
least get some food in you.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said.
Adsila sighed as she rested her hands on her hips. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” I asked. By the cold tone of her voice, it sounded serious. What could be so
important? We were kids in a peaceful village with bountiful harvests. What did we have to
worry about?
“It can wait,” Adsila said. “Focus on yourself. Today is a big day.” She touched my arm and
comforted me with another smile. “You’ll be fine. When next I see you, you’ll be a man.”
“Yeah …” I said. “But we can still go racing afterwards, right?”
She snorted. “Of course! You owe me one. Maybe this time you’ll actually win.”
“Yeah, if you don’t cheat this time!”
“Shut up! You’re just slow,” she said. A playful glint flashed in her eyes. But her smile
saddened and drooped. Perhaps she sensed how life would change. I wasn’t so intuitive.
Once Adsila left, it was father’s turn to comfort me. He was never one to make grand
speeches or lecture his sons for their mistakes. In fact, he often said very little, leaving us to
guess at his thoughts and analyze his every expression. But today was a special occasion, so an
exception was made for my sake.
Flecks of grass and leaves clung to his skin. Some had slipped into his wrinkles, giving him
the appearance of bright, green stripes. Despite his age, father was a workhorse. Already he had
the appearance of bright, green stripes. Despite his age, father was a workhorse. Already he had
spent hours among the crops of corn and squash. No doubt he would spend hours more to
provide for his family and his people. I respected him greatly even if he looked ridiculous coated
in vegetation.
“I’m not ready,” I said.
Father nodded. “And you won’t be,” he said. “Not for the things that matter. Even so, I’m
sure you’ll do fine. Everyone passes the trial.”
“I know, so what if I fail? I’ll bring shame on you and Brother Wolf.”
Father crouched down to look me square in the eye. His gaze was a rich brown, the color of
earth after a long rain. His expression was firm and steady. “You will be the best of us.” I had
heard it before, and so had brother. Despite father’s intentions, the saying had lost all meaning
by now.
“You say that, but what if you’re wrong?” I asked.
“Dekanawida, life is more than a climb atop a hill,” he said. He smiled warmly and rose to
his full height. The sun glowed yellow around him, eclipsed by his big head. “If you fail, so be
it. You will succeed next year. Everyone finds their own path in the end. Whichever way it leads
you, I will be proud to call you my son. And so would your mother.”
I could not remember mother’s face. She had passed when I was young. Still, the thought of
her pride put a wide grin on my face. I wondered what she would say if she were still here, but I
could not remember her voice either.
“There is something else,” father said. He fished something out of his pocket. It was a
necklace made of deerskin leather and a simple river stone. Most Alguin jewelry was decorated
with cow bones and glass beads. But this was something different. As father placed it in my
with cow bones and glass beads. But this was something different. As father placed it in my
hand, I turned it over. There was a spiral carved into the face of the stone. “It’s a protective
talisman. It will keep you safe. I know you were worried, so I …”
“Thank you,” I said. I put on the necklace. It was light. I barely felt it. And still, something
bothered me. “Father?”
“Hm?”
“What if I do succeed? What if I become a man, and … and what if I don’t like it?”
Childhood was full of fun and adventure. It was riverside races and summertime games. It was
stealing food from harvest crops and laughing with Adsila all day and night. But adulthood, as
far as I could tell, was all work, toiling on the farm or on the hunt. It was tribe meetings and
raising babies. It was cooking dinner and falling asleep at the table. None of it sounded fun.
But father merely laughed and patted my head. “Adulthood is something none of us can
escape.”
I sighed. That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for. I grabbed the talisman around my neck
and traced the spiral etched into its surface. Maybe it would protect me from becoming a boring
adult too.
“Where is brother?” I asked. “He promised to see me off.”
“Okwaho went to the forest to hunt. Perhaps he will return before the trial.”
“I’m afraid there isn’t time for that,” an old, raspy voice said. It belonged to the village elder
Hiawatha. He panted as he shuffled towards us on shaky legs. Once, Hiawatha was the figure of
will and vitality. Back then, the Alguin tribe was not one but five. The Azalee and Inguin
perished from the Great Sickness, and the Erca were eradicated by the pale settlers. But it was
Hiawatha’s strength and leadership that united the fractured tribes of the Leatherfoot and
Hiawatha’s strength and leadership that united the fractured tribes of the Leatherfoot and
Featherbrow to become one family.
Now Hiawatha had grown old and fat. His face was a saggy mess of gray wrinkles, his eyes
were clouded, and even his famed tongue had grown stiff and clumsy. Still, there was always
wisdom to be found in his words.
“Rahrakwasere, may I steal your son? I like to talk to the boys before they become men,” he
said.
“Of course.”
The elder motioned for me to follow him. A stone dropped into my belly. I wasn’t ready, and
midday wasn’t here yet. The sun still lagged behind the trees, whose wide leaves blanketed the
village in green. Its golden rays filtered through the canopy at an angle, casting one side of the
village in light and the other in shadow.
“I hope you’ll forgive me,” Hiawatha said. “No doubt you are nervous for the climb, and to
take you from your father early may seem cruel and unexpected.” We stopped at the top of the
hill and looked down at the bustling tribe. Children frolicked by the babbling river, where two
men fished for carp. Women stood in fields of fruits and vegetables that had grown swollen in
the summer sun. But at the far end of the village, where trodden paths gave way to forest and
mountains, a fire was lit. Five men stood with drums and flutes, waiting for me. Their song
would announce my departure.
Hiawatha placed his hand on my shoulder and sighed. “To tell you the truth, my legs are
feeble and sore. I wasn’t sure I’d catch you before midday.” He smiled. Out of nerves, I
laughed. But I’m not sure it was a joke. The elder’s smile faded. “Do not take your task lightly,”
he said. “Although a simple one, it is indeed … hm …”

“Important?” I said.
“Precisely.” We started down the hill. Other tribe members smiled and waved as we passed.
But brother was not among them.
“It is a significant feat to become a man. Many obstacles must you pass. Many duties must
you hold,” the elder said. “Yet, today, all I ask is for you to fetch the Wise One’s Tear atop the
mountain. It is a test of strength, surely. But the journey is as important as the destination. Do
you understand?”
My head was somewhere else, and my eyes darted among the trees and huts in search of
Okwaho. Nonetheless, I nodded and said I understood.
“The trial will change you,” Hiawatha continued. I felt his foggy gaze look down on me. It
made me feel small and weak. I wondered if that would change when I became a man. “The
knowledge you gain along the way is something you are unprepared for, but you must take it all
the same. And when you do, with the Wise One’s Tear in hand, come to me.”
As we progressed through town, I saw Adsila standing by a lanky boy around Okwaho’s age.
The townspeople called him Bear for the immense tufts of hair that covered his body. But I had
never seen Bear and Adsila together before. They both smiled and waved.
“And once I get the tear, who will put it back?” I asked the elder. He smirked.
“You will of course.”
No one told me I had to climb the mountain twice, I thought. Twice the chance to bring
shame on my family.
The sun had reached its zenith, the forest shadow shrank, and the drums began to roar.
While the music surged, a crowd gathered to listen. A similar beat sounded in my chest,
While the music surged, a crowd gathered to listen. A similar beat sounded in my chest,
albeit louder and more erratic. Sharp pangs echoed through my limbs, and sweat dripped from
my head. All eyes were on me. Voices shouted in encouragement. One of them was father’s I
think. But I’m not sure. My eyes were glued to the floor. I just wanted to skip rocks with Adsila
and forget the whole day.
At some point, the drums ceased, and the elder cleared his throat. “Thank you all for
gathering today to give strength and courage to our son, our brother, Dekanawida,” he said. “We
wish him well on his journey to the mountaintop, and we wait to welcome him back again. This
time, not as a boy, but as a man.” The crowd cheered, and the drums beat once more. Hiawatha
turned to me and nodded. “You know what to do. Be safe, boy. Be strong.”
At once, I dashed into the forest, away from the cheering crowd and its weighty
expectations. When the drums faded behind me, I stopped to catch my breath by a great oak. Its
leafy branches bathed me in shades of green. For a time, I felt calm and breathed the fragrant air
deep into my lungs. But I had a job to do, and a treacherous climb ahead of me. I just wished
Okwaho could’ve been there to give me advice. He made the climb not two years ago. He would
know what to say.
As if sensing my thoughts, Okwaho emerged from a game trail downhill. He had a bow and
quiver slung over his shoulder. So far, he hadn’t caught anything.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he said.
“Brother Wolf, I didn’t think you’d come. You promised —”
“I know. I wanted to hunt before the drums scared everything away, but I guess it didn’t
change anything.” Okwaho smiled earnestly and rustled my hair. I tried to return the favor, but
brother stood a full head taller than me. Besides, his hair had grown so long that he had taken to
brother stood a full head taller than me. Besides, his hair had grown so long that he had taken to
tying it in a strict bun topped with a hawk feather.
As I straightened out my hair, I remembered why I was in the forest in the first place.
Okwaho saw the anxiety eating away at me. His own expression darkened. “The climb is easy. I
did it. So can you.”
“Everyone expects something of me,” I said with a childish pout. “But I’m just a kid. I don’t
even know what to expect of myself let alone the mountain.”
Brother crouched down to my height and placed his hand on my shoulder. But he wouldn’t
meet my gaze. For some reason, I saw anger and sadness mingle in his dark eyes. But I had no
idea why. “Seriously,” he said, “It’s a simple hike. The whole trial is a metaphor.”
“A metaphor?”
“Yeah, it’s not a real …” His voice trailed off as he saw the innocent confusion stamped on
my face. He laughed to himself and rustled my hair again. “It’s a nice view. Maybe you’ll see
me hunting when you’re up there.”
“Maybe,” I said. Okwaho waved goodbye as he crept through the forest. Cloaked in shadow,
the expression on his face was unreadable.
Despite the cool shade, the day was hot. Sweat prickled my skin as I began my ascent. By
the time I reached the top, my face would be dripping. But I didn’t mind the heat. Just as
Brother Wolf had said, it was a simple hike. Over the years, adolescent boys had carved a path
to the top. I could see where the grass was stomped flat and where the rocks had settled like
stairs into the hillside.
As it turned out, no skill or strength was needed to climb the mountain. So I made a game of
it. I hopped to the tune of “Bird Wings Clasping.” It was a jolly song I heard father hum now
it. I hopped to the tune of “Bird Wings Clasping.” It was a jolly song I heard father hum now
and then. I had no idea what it was about, but the melody was intoxicating. For some reason, he
didn’t like me singing it. But father wasn’t there, so I sang my way higher and higher.
“Bird wings clasping
In heat of night,
Singing, gasping, holding tight.
In youthful dawn,
In aging dusk,
A feathered pair aflight in lust.”
The song put an easy smile on my face while the simple climb set my nerves to rest. All that
time worrying in bed was wasted. If only the others had told me what a pleasant day it would be.
Well, maybe they did. I just didn’t listen. Regardless, I was in a good mood now. Hopeful too.
I’d retrieve the Wise One’s Tear, dance my way down, and celebrate my manhood in the
company of friends and family.
By the time the canopy broke, the sun hung halfway down the sky. Ahead, where the trees
thinned, heavy, yellow light bathed the mountaintop. At the very peak, where the earth met the
great, blue expanse, I spied the Wise One’s Tear. It was a sparkling gem, translucent, white, and
utterly alone on a stone pedestal. Somehow it was both beautiful and sad.
The last few steps were the steepest. My muscles stung with lethargy, but I suffered it with
pride. The pain was a marker of accomplishment, a reminder of how far I’d come. Grinning
wide, I leapt out of the forest and reached for the tear.
However, the view was so stunning that I immediately forgot about the tear. My arm
dropped to my side as I gazed out and away. On the one side, I saw the village amid the trees.
dropped to my side as I gazed out and away. On the one side, I saw the village amid the trees.
From so high up, my tribesmen looked like busy ants toiling in a green sea. On the other side, I
saw the forest edge, where verdant trees met a dusty, orange wasteland. And there on the border
of two worlds was Okwaho with his bow slung over his shoulder.
I waved, but brother’s gaze lingered on the horizon. I followed his stare deeper and deeper
into the desolate plains of dirt. There I saw it for the first time: a gray giant of glass and steel. At
the base, a thick smog billowed in diffuse, blue light. But above, the city flickered with vibrant
colors I never could have imagined. Wagons of glittering metal buzzed among the gargantuan
buildings, whose heights I still could not fathom. The settlement’s technology was far beyond
anything I had seen or heard of.
Is this what brother wanted to tell me about? I thought. The metaphor? I never got the
chance to ask him.
Racing across the dirt was one of those steely wagons. It moved with such speed that plumes
of orange dust fluttered in its wake. Okwaho stood transfixed, watching the craft move. I admit
it was a beautiful thing, magical in its fluid motion, stunning in its sleek design. Brother must
have felt overwhelmed with awe and wonder because he refused to move, even when the craft
passed his way.
Just as the metal wagon stopped in front of him, Okwaho raised his bow. Three men stepped
out of the craft. Their skin was pale and their hair fair. One of the men approached brother. They
exchanged a few words, but I couldn’t read their expressions from so far away. A second man
stepped forward with a metal instrument in his hands. Without warning, he beat Okwaho over
the head. After one hit, brother fell to the ground. The three men threw him into their vehicle
and sped off in the direction of the city.

I looked back at the Wise One’s Tear and at the village below. My quest wasn’t complete.
The elder expected me. Father expected me. But how could I face them without Okwaho? Even
if I could achieve nothing, I had to try. Brother needed help. Without a weapon, without a clue, I
was determined to save him.

Scavengers
Only one path led to and from the mountaintop, and that path led south back to the village.
No one approached the wasteland beyond the forest. How many even knew it existed? I had to
forge my own path down the mountain.
As it turned out, the northern side of the mountain was a sheer drop off. It stood daunting
like a stone wall speckled green with the odd tree or shrub. I might have wondered how
perfectly it hid our village from the city and the city from us. I might have laughed sadly at how
content our tribe lived, nestled in our green valley, ignorant and happily so. I might have, but my
only thought was how to get down the mountain.
Of course, I could go back the way I’d come and cut through the forest as brother had. But
there was no time for it. The craft that stole Okwaho sped farther and farther away. If I stood
any chance of seeing him again, I needed to scale the cliff.
My heart quaked as I gazed over the edge. The forest floor lay in wait some two-hundred
feet down. But to me it seemed like a thousand.
I can’t do it, I thought, tears welling in my eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I can’t do
it, I repeated. I cried out of helplessness. Then I thought of Okwaho and cried even more. He
promised to teach me to hunt after the trial. He couldn’t do that if I never saw him again.
Mustering the courage, I threw myself over the mountainside. My legs dangled in a helpless
search for footing as I slipped farther and farther off the edge. I gripped to the mountain with my
elbows, but the weight of my body pulled me lower. I slid to my hands and strained to hold on
with all the strength in my fingers. But still my feet found no place to rest. I looked up at the
Wise One’s Tear, lonesome on its pedestal. I prayed to the goddess for help, and she must have
Wise One’s Tear, lonesome on its pedestal. I prayed to the goddess for help, and she must have
heard. My left foot lodged safely in the crevice between two boulders.
From there, the climb got easier. Although I didn’t dare look down, I found footing almost
naturally. To my surprise, I descended the mountain at a brisk pace. No doubt, I was encouraged
by the frantic desperation in my chest. Still, I knew it was not fast enough to reach Okwaho in
time.
No sooner did I land on solid ground than a startling boom thundered across the wasteland.
From the cover of trees, I spied a thin wisp of smoke trail into the sky. I hadn’t the slightest clue
what the commotion was about. But I knew the violent sound could only spell trouble.
Healthy, green leaves descended from the treetops as the shock wave rolled through the
forest. By the time it reached me, the blast was nothing more than a weak rumble. Even so, it cut
to my very core, filling me with dread.
“I’m just a kid,” I told myself. It wasn’t my job to play hero and brave the unknown. “I’m
just a scared, little boy,” I said, dragging my feet over the damp, forest floor. My fear was proof
I had not grown. Even if I had returned with the Wise One’s Tear, I was not ready to call myself
a man. A man has no fear. A man is strong and brave. That was not me.
While I wove through the trees, I stumbled upon a line of footprints that could only have
belonged to Brother Wolf. Not a few months earlier, Okwaho taught me how to check the
freshness of prints. If the edges were well-defined, the wind and rain didn’t have time to smooth
them out. So I knew these were only just made. I followed them closely until the woods peeled
back onto an ever-expanding sea of dust and earth.
I glared against the sun and searched into the uncertain, orange plains. A slight breeze kicked
the parched dirt into the air. It billowed like a burning mist. Yet, somewhere far off, real flames
the parched dirt into the air. It billowed like a burning mist. Yet, somewhere far off, real flames
danced and coughed smoke. Brave or not, I was the only one there to save Okwaho, and I knew
he needed help. The craft that stole him was on fire. That’s where he’d be.
As I strode into the expansive plain, I felt a growing unease. Gusts of wind blew dust clouds
from horizon to horizon. The dry air howled like a starved stomach. The area was empty and
dead.
All the while, the distant city stood menacingly before me. Flashes of color shone off the
towering buildings, whose roofs scraped the sky. A dense smog hung around their bases like a
filthy, gray skirt. Now and then I saw silver vehicles buzz around the city. Yet, as I strained my
eyes to see them, a veil of orange dirt blanketed my view. The veil thickened until even the
smoke trail could not be seen. I stroked the talisman around my neck and pushed on.
The wasteland, as it turned out, was not completely flat and barren. Short tufts of grass
sprouted here and there. But their stalks were petrified and brown. To pass the time, I made a
game of kicking up each clump I found. I hopped from tuft to tuft, uprooting everything I saw.
The wind picked up the debris and tossed it across the orange expanse. I watched with delight as
the grass flew like autumn leaves on a cool breeze. So caught up was I in the fun that my worry
vanished, and I forgot to look ahead.
The acrid scent of smoke grew stronger as I skipped farther and farther. So I knew I was
getting closer to the wreckage, but I didn’t know how close. In fact, I was so absorbed in my
game that I tripped and fell over something soft and wet. It wasn’t until I looked down that I
realized I had fallen on top of a dead body.
Screaming, I scrambled off the man’s remains. Warm, red liquid coated my arms. I could not
scrape it off fast enough. “I’m okay,” I told myself. I clenched my eyes shut and breathed a
scrape it off fast enough. “I’m okay,” I told myself. I clenched my eyes shut and breathed a
long, shaky breath. “I’m okay. He’s not, but I am. I. Am. Okay.”
Once I assured myself I was safe, I dared to examine the dead body. His attire was strange.
He had on some grayish-blue coat made of velvet. Several gold buckles bound the clothes to the
man as if scared he’d fall out. He also wore leather pants of a dazzling magenta hue. Strapped to
his hip was a peculiar, metallic tool with a large grip and long barrel.
Not only did the fancy get-up shock me but also the man’s complexion. He was pale as
cream, and his hair was gold like straw. I knew death drained the color out of you but not like
that. And his gaze … it was blue. If his eyes weren’t vacant, I would have said they were the
most beautiful I had ever seen.
I stood and scanned the area. Not far off was the shimmery, chrome vehicle half-sunk in the
dirt. Its metallic body had crumpled on impact. Seated at the front of the craft was another pale
man whose body was in such a gory state that I couldn’t look more than a second. Smoke rose
from the back of the vehicle, where it looked as though something had taken a bite out of the
metal body. A small fire still crackled. It smelled harsh and unnatural.
Noticeably absent from the scene was Okwaho. He was not in the vehicle, nor was he
anywhere close by. But I saw them take him. He couldn’t have just vanished. Maybe he was the
one that crashed the craft. Maybe he was missing because he had escaped and returned home.
But I had not seen any tracks, nor had I seen Okwaho himself. Had I missed him amid the wind
and dust?
Among the wreckage I found the hawk feather Brother Wolf usually kept in his hair. He was
there. I was sure of it, but I had no idea where he went.
“Brother?” I called. I tied my hair in a loose knot and stuck the feather inside. “Brother, I’m
“Brother?” I called. I tied my hair in a loose knot and stuck the feather inside. “Brother, I’m
here.”
To my surprise, something did answer my call. But it was not a human voice. It was a roar
and a rumble like thunder rolling across the sky. Or perhaps like a deep grumble and a stuttering
cough. Or maybe it was the purr of some foul beast. I wasn’t sure what it was. In all my years, I
had not heard such sounds.
Whatever it was, the noise didn’t quit. It grew louder and louder. Somewhere beyond the
veil of smoke, a large shape took form. Fear flooded my veins, but I had nowhere to hide.
The noise I learned had come from another vehicle. However, this one sped across the land
instead of the sky. It was a four-wheeled monster coated in dirt and rust. Two people sat inside.
Their faces were hidden by green-tinted glass. One was noticeably smaller than the other.
Outside in a short, flat bed were two men with orange-tinted goggles and brown, cloth masks. In
their hands were the same metallic tools I had seen with the corpse. Their long barrels
immediately trained on my face.
As I raised my hands in submission, the car stopped. All four people hopped out of the
vehicle and stalked towards me.
“Uh hi,” I said. “What are those things in your hands?”
One man muttered to another. They both nodded and removed their masks. Both men were
tall, pale, and bearded with coarse, brown hair. However, one had a short, snub nose, and the
other had a long, crooked beak.
The first man cleared his throat. “It’s a gun,” he said in a rough, albeit welcoming tone.
“What’s a gun?” I said. Everyone laughed. I blushed, not knowing the question was so
funny.
“If we press this button, you die,” the man with the beak said. They all giggled.
“Oh,” I said.
The other two men took off their own masks. It was then I realized the noticeably short man
was not in fact a man, or even a boy. It was a young girl about my age. She had hair the color of
corn and eyes soft blue. I found her face extremely pleasant to look at despite the stern
expression on her face.
“What are you doing here?” the girl said. I laughed. I wanted to ask her the same thing. She
didn’t find the coincidence funny.
The third individual, a bald man with pinkish skin, leaned over to the girl. “He looks —”
“Yeah, I know. I know,” the girl interrupted. She turned up her head and puffed out her
chest. Again she asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for my brother Okwaho,” I said. I pointed to the downed aircraft. “I saw them
take him, but I don’t see him here, and I don’t know what happened.”
“What happened is my people shot down their aircraft and took your brother,” the girl said. I
hesitated, not knowing what to think or feel. The girl motioned for the others to lower their
weapons. “He is safe,” she said. “He suffered minor injuries in the crash. The scouts brought
him to the city to dress his wounds. We were sent to scavenge materials from the wreckage.”
She sounded ashamed of the job. Regardless, she instructed her men to collect what they could,
and to make it quick. I watched with intrigue and slight sadness as they tore through the
destroyed vehicle like hungry rats. At the time, I couldn’t imagine what they needed or why. But
it was all beside the point. I only wanted to find Okwaho.
“So can I see him? We need to go home now,” I said. I watched the men scavenge with an
“So can I see him? We need to go home now,” I said. I watched the men scavenge with an
absent gaze. One of them took a metal tube out of his bag and sprayed a red shape on the
downed aircraft. Strange. But I thought nothing of it.
The bald man motioned back towards the mountain. “You live over there, kid?” he said. I
didn’t answer.
“What’s your name?” the girl said.
“Dekanawida.”
The girl blinked long and slow. “Dekan. I’ll call you Dekan.” Her stern lips relaxed into a
warm, easy smile. “My name is Priscilla. You can call me Priss. We’ll take you to your brother.”
The Bellows
Priss invited me to sit beside her inside the vehicle. The seats were cushioned by leather so
soft and smooth that I started to doubt it was leather at all. Though dusty and riddled with holes,
the vehicle was more comfortable than my bed. Priss called it a car. Such a simple word for
something so fancy.
As I was sandwiched between Priss and the bald man, I marveled at all the buttons and
levers before me. I reached out to touch one, but Priss swatted my hand.
“Please don’t do that,” she said. And then to the bald man, “Let’s go, Elijah.” He nodded and
turned a key. The car roared to life. And within an instant, we were racing through the dry,
orange expanse.
In the distance, the towering city faded back into view. I watched with wonder as aircraft
soared through sparkling, pink lights and dashed among the steely structures. At the base of the
buildings, a mysterious fog spun in on itself. Silhouettes slunk in and out of the mist. Their
bodies cast long, black shadows in the dim, blue light, giving them the appearance of monstrous
giants.
Elijah cleared his throat. “Excuse me, kid,” he said. “I don’t mean no offense or anything,
but you have the look of someone who’s never seen Kingsholm before.” I stared blankly at the
man. “Kingsholm. The City in the Sands. It’s called Kingsholm.”
“I’m sorry,” I said with a blush. I stole a look at Priss. Her gentle, blue stare was fixed on me
with undue curiosity. My blush deepened, so I cast my eyes at my palms. “I’ve never seen any
of this. Cars. Guns. Your clothes. Cities. None of it.”
“How is that possible?” Priss said.

I shrugged. “My people live in a valley. I guess we never needed to look outside of it.”
“Your people? You mean there’s more of you?” Priss said. I grew quiet. Maybe it wasn’t a
good idea to say so much.
“Of course there’s more of them, Prissy. You think he lives alone in the forest?” Elijah said.
“Don’t call me that,” she said with a flick of her hair. The car hit a bump and lurched to one
side. Priss steadied herself by grabbing the closest object, which just so happened to be my
thigh. She apologized. For some reason, so did I. We both blushed, and Elijah grinned.
As her face returned to its milky color, Priss pushed her hair behind her ears and
remembered her curiosity. “So what kind of technology do your people have?” she said.
“Technology?” I repeated. “You mean like a bow or plow? Because we don’t have flying
things or growling vehicles like this.”
“You just live off the land?” Elijah said. “Wow. I read about people like you, but I thought
you all died out.”
I nodded sadly. “Most of my people were killed not long ago. We tell stories of our chief’s
bravery and leadership. And we tell stories of the invaders …” My voice faded as I recalled the
stories. Hiawatha had said they were as white as ghosts.
“Aw man, I’m sorry,” Elijah said.
“We understand your pain,” Priss added.
“Why?” I asked.
“You’ll see.”
The closer we got to Kingsholm, the higher the buildings reached. I strained my neck to see
their glittering peaks. But the sight of those giant structures made my head spin as if my brain
their glittering peaks. But the sight of those giant structures made my head spin as if my brain
couldn’t comprehend such massive creations. It was no wonder Priss and the others kept their
eyes straight ahead.
Still, I couldn’t draw my eyes away from the upper reaches of Kingsholm. The city begged
for my attention with flashing lights of every color. Some of those lights even took the shape of
giant people whose see-through limbs danced to a distant rhythm. Behind crystal windows that
sparkled in the sun, I spied people of normal size and substance. Even from afar, I could see
them smile and laugh with drinks in their hands. Each of their garments was drenched in color. I
could scarcely imagine which dyes created purples so rich and reds so bold.
Priss must have noticed my amazement. She snorted and said, “I don’t blame you. The upper
city is a paradise. They get the tastiest food from all over the world. They wear they latest
fashion trends. They use the greatest technology known to man. We get the rest.”
“Who’s we?” I said. Neither Elijah nor Priss answered.
As we neared Kingsholm, the sunny heights of the city gave way to a swirling curtain of
gray fog. Elijah fished a blue cloth out of his pocket and handed it to me. “Here, kid,” he said.
“Cover your mouth and nose. It’s not healthy to breathe in the smog.” I chuckled to myself,
thinking it a joke on me, the naive foreigner. But the others pulled up their masks, and a harsh,
chemical scent filtered into the vehicle.
“What is that?” I asked, coughing into the blue cloth.
“I told you. Smog,” Elijah said.
“How do you think all those pretty lights and flying cars work?” Priss said. I had no idea.
My blank stare said as much. “You need power. You get power by burning things, the type of
things that shouldn’t be burnt. All that toxic waste and smoke hangs in the air like a fog that
things that shouldn’t be burnt. All that toxic waste and smoke hangs in the air like a fog that
never leaves.”
Whatever it was, the fog folded around us, casting everything in a haze. I looked up again
for the glittering utopia but it was as good as searching into a smoking abyss. An undulating wall
of clouds separated us from the upper city and from the sky itself. There was no penetrating the
smog, and thus no real reason to look up. I started to see why Priss was so bitter.
“Welcome to the Bellows,” she said. She sighed as she looked out at the lonely streets.
Hunched figures passed by like sad shadows. Muted, blue lights flickered, casting their
expressions in distressed shades.
Nonetheless, the city was an exciting wonder to me. Masked people zipped by on rowdy,
two-wheel vehicles while massive buildings of sculpted stone and metal rose around us. Their
exteriors were adorned with lifelike pictures of smiling people and fancy gadgets, whose
functions I couldn’t even guess. Flameless lamps lined the roads and shone from behind sooty,
glass panes. And from somewhere, I heard the blare of music, whose confident melodies were
sung by instruments I had never known.
Priss looked at me with an amused glint in her eye. She crossed her arms and laughed to
herself.
“What?” I said.
“I’ve just never seen anyone so excited to see this hellhole,” she said, smiling with her eyes.
“It’s nothing. Actually it’s refreshing.”
Before I could respond, my stomach growled long and loud. I hadn’t eaten breakfast or
lunch, and now it was approaching evening. After all that had happened, food didn’t once occur
to me. But now that I remembered my empty belly, it panged and howled without end. I
to me. But now that I remembered my empty belly, it panged and howled without end. I
wondered what father was cooking. Maybe a roast turkey with mint and summer berries, or
perhaps a bowl of stewed hominy, beans, and squash.
“Don’t worry, kid,” Elijah said. “Dinner is already cooking. When we get back to our
hideout, you can eat with us.”
“Hideout? Why are you hiding?” I asked. “Are you a secret club?”
Priss sighed. “We’re rebels,” she said. “We want to change the government so our people
don’t suffer anymore.”
“Oh. So that’s why you shot down the aircraft? You don’t like those people.”
“Kinda,” Elijah said. The hesitant tone in his voice suggested there was more to the story.
But it wasn’t my concern.
“Will Okwaho be there for dinner?” I asked. They both shrugged.
The car slowed in front of a metal box covered in a cluttered bunch of painted words. Elijah
clicked a button above his head, and the metal box opened. As we pulled inside, the box closed
behind us, and above, artificial lights flickered to life.
“Just a little farther,” Priss said. Just as she finished speaking, the floor descended with a
repetitive, mechanical clank. When it came to a stop, Elijah drove ahead on an underground road
aglow with sparse, blue light. We followed the road for another few minutes and then turned into
a lot packed full of cars. I struggled to count them all, but the number was well over a hundred.
After removing her mask, Priss exited the car and immediately ordered her men to carry
away the scavenged material. Judging by the youthful doughiness of her cheeks, Priss was
probably as young as me. Yet, by the way she spoke, she sounded double my age. Her
commands were precise. She knew what belonged where, who should take it there, and how
commands were precise. She knew what belonged where, who should take it there, and how
long it should take. When she told me to follow Elijah down the hall, I obeyed without question.
Of course, I didn’t need much convincing. The room we entered was filled with the
tantalizing scent of fried meat and onions. All around I saw people chow down on meat patties
sandwiched between two toasted buns. I could scarcely think of anything else, so Elijah
retrieved one of the divine creations for me.
He said it was called a hamburger. However, I was shocked to hear there was not actually
any ham inside, and even more shocked to hear there was no meat at all. They had forsaken
meat a long time ago. Instead, their hamburger was some scientific creation made of plants.
Naturally, I asked where they found plants made of meat. But Elijah wouldn’t say. Instead, he
shook his head and dug into his own burger.
Once I had finished my food, I became aware of the room’s undivided attention on me. To
be fair, they tried to be subtle with a short glance here and there. But when fifty people are
stealing glances, it’s hard not to feel their stares wash up and down your body. Until then I never
felt ashamed of my appearance, but now I knew it separated me from them. My skin was dark,
and theirs was pale. My clothes were plain, and theirs were a patchwork of dark fabric, patterned
sleeves, and buckles.
“What’s wrong?” Elijah said.
“They’re all looking at me,” I said. “I feel different.”
Elijah grumbled and rubbed his bald head. “Not different. Just new,” he said. “We’re all
outcasts here, kid. There’s no judgment, just curiosity. But if you want some new clothes, I’m
sure we can find some after you meet William.”
“Who’s William?” I asked.

“He’s our leader. You should consider yourself lucky to meet him. He’s an important man,”
Elijah said.
The two bearded men I had met earlier sat down next to me. “Who are we talking about?”
the one with the snub nose asked.
“Sounds like Mr. Lundergan,” the one with the beak said. He raised his eyebrows and shook
his head. “Good luck, kid.”
Elijah crossed his arms. “Don’t scare him, John,” he said.
“I’m not,” John said, wiping his long nose. “Will’s just a bit intense is all.” The other
bearded man nodded in agreement while he chowed down on his burger. Meaty crumbs settled
in the curls of his beard. “See, Rob agrees with me.”
Rob attempted to add his voice to the discussion, but his mouth was full, and his words were
unintelligible.We all looked at him for a second, but none of us could translate what he had said.
“William is a kind and charismatic leader,” Elijah said.
“But,” John said, “He is also a seriously focused individual. He lives and breathes
responsibility.”
“Some think that makes him a bit distant and standoffish,” Rob said, having swallowed his
dinner.
“It’s intimidating is what it is,” John said.
A frown tugged down on my lips. “Should I be nervous?” I said. I looked around the room.
People were still looking at me.
“No no,” Elijah said. He sighed. “Don’t listen to them.”
“Yeah, you’re fine, kid,” John said. “He’s just like his daughter. You survived her, so I’m not
“Yeah, you’re fine, kid,” John said. “He’s just like his daughter. You survived her, so I’m not
too worried about you.”
“His daughter?” I repeated. “You mean Priss?” At once, my frown flipped into a smile. The
guys reacted to my wide grin with an incredulous glance. “What? She’s … nice.”
“Nice? I could think of some other words to describe her,” Rob said.
Appearing behind him, Priss placed her hands on Rob’s shoulders. He winced as she
squeezed tight. A scarlet blush flooded his cheeks. “I would love to hear them sometime,” she
said. The other guys tried and failed to suppress their laughter. Even Priss giggled as she
watched Rob sweat in silence. When the torture went on long enough, Priss smacked him on the
cheek and turned to me. “Dekan, my dad wants to see you. Come with me.”
I followed her out of the room and up a set of twisted, metal stairs. The way was cool and
dark, but the familiar scent of damp earth and leaves tickled my nose. It was the last smell I
expected to find in a dingy city without trees or grass.
While we walked, Priss glanced at me as if nervous. She fiddled with a strand of wavy,
blonde hair and then clasped her hands in front of her. “Dad is an important man,” she said.
“I know. Elijah told me.”
“Oh. Well … if he likes you, you can stay. I can show you the city,” she said.
“Brother and I need to go home,” I said.
“Of course. Yeah. I knew that,” Priss said. She knit her brow and blushed. Shaking her head,
she quickened her pace down the musty corridor.
“But it sounds nice,” I said. A silence spread between us. Not knowing why, I started to
smile.
Once we neared a foggy, glass door, Priss cleared her throat. “He’s through here,” she said.
Once we neared a foggy, glass door, Priss cleared her throat. “He’s through here,” she said.
As Priss opened the door, a wave of hot, moist air washed over me. Inside I saw a verdant
expanse of flowers and veggies. They were arranged in orderly rows of boxes, each filled to the
brim with black soil. Bulbs fixed to the glass ceiling coated the room in a thin, purple glow.
Although sparse, I felt the light hot on my neck.
In the middle of the room, stood a willowy man with a short beard and a black, wool hat.
Large, round glasses hung low on his nose as he hunched over a box of petunias. Every few
seconds I heard the snip of shears and saw long, stringy stems drop to the floor. The man was so
engrossed in his gardening that he didn’t even notice Priss or me.
“Dad,” Priss said, “I brought him.”
Without looking up, the man waved his shears at Priss. “Wonderful. Thank you. You may
leave us,” he said in short, firm words. There was no comfort to his speech. Still, something in
his deep timbre reminded me of Hiawatha: a sense of wisdom and sullen certainty.
Once Priss had left, the man set down his shears and turned to me. Wrinkles underscored his
pale, blue eyes. They were marks of experience rather than age. “I come here when I need to
think. The air is fresh. The room is quiet. It’s an oasis in this dusky city. Perhaps it reminds you
of home.”
“I guess so,” I said with a shrug.
“I am William Lundergan. It is nice to meet you, Dekanawida.” He held out his hand. Not
knowing what the gesture meant, I copied him. He grabbed my hand and shook it. While I stared
confused at his firm grip, William studied my face. “Yes, I see the resemblance.”
“You’ve seen Okwaho,” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid you just missed him. He was here an hour or two ago,” William
He nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid you just missed him. He was here an hour or two ago,” William
said.
“Where did he go?”
“We sent him on a mission to the upper city.”
“A mission?”
“Yes,” William said, “I sensed great conviction in him, and he was willing. In fact, the
venture was very much his own idea. I merely shared with him my knowledge and guidance.”
I had come all this way because the upper city had taken Okwaho. Even though the rebels
had freed him, now he was going to the upper city anyway. It didn’t make sense. We needed to
go home.
As if reading my thoughts, William said, “I know it is frustrating. From what I have heard,
you came all this way just to bring him home. It must not make sense to you.”
“It doesn’t. What could be so important that he would leave his family behind?” I said.
“It is because of his family that he is leaving. Your brother is a good man, and someday, I am
sure you will be too. I will not bore you with the specifics of our political ambitions and
responsibilities. You are too young to understand. Even my own daughter does not fully grasp
the duty of our mission.” I stared at him blankly. Although what he said sounded intelligent and
profound, none of it answered my question. “Sorry. I digress. Dekanawida, I ask you only to
trust your brother. It was his decision to go. If you trust him, then you will trust any decision he
makes.”
“I don’t even know what he’s doing in the upper city.”
William set his hand on my shoulder. “He will be back soon,” he said. “You should stay. We
will provide you with food, clothing, and a place to sleep.” I chewed my lip. I had already been
will provide you with food, clothing, and a place to sleep.” I chewed my lip. I had already been
away too long. Father would be worried. But I had come this far. I couldn’t go home without
Okwaho now. “Priscilla seems to like you. You can spend your time with her.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I said.
“Wonderful. Then it’s settled. You will accompany my daughter while you wait for your
brother to return. The Bellows is not the most hospitable of locations, but we will do what we
can to make it feel like home.” William picked up his shears and returned to his plants. With a
careful gaze, he snipped methodically at the flowers’ wayward growths. All around him, the
green foliage fell.

A Better View
While I waited for Okwaho to return from his mission, I followed Priss around the Bellows.
Neither of us had any idea when he would return, so I prepared myself for a meandering day of
exploration. Instead, Priss created a structured plan for us to pass time effectively. Apparently,
she did not often get free time. So when she did, she wanted to ensure the freedom didn’t go to
waste.
First things first, I needed new clothes. As comfortable as my deerskin attire was, I couldn’t
go anywhere without drawing attention. Judging by her sparkling grin, Priss took great pleasure
in dressing me in her own fashion. I tried on striped, gray trousers and a red jacket with shoulder
pads. Both were so big I felt buried in a tent. Priss swapped them out for an airy tunic made of
tender, pink fabric. The fit was better, but the color was much too feminine. Despite my naivety,
I sensed the clothing wasn’t actually meant for men.
“This is a dress, isn’t it?” I asked. My suspicions were confirmed when Priss burst into loud,
snorty laughter. “You know, we have dresses in my village too.”
“Don’t take offense. We like to screw with each other here. Father says a little fun brings
people together, especially in hard times,” Priss said with a slanted smile. “Here.” She handed
me dark blue trousers tattered at the ankles, a plain, black shirt, and an olive green jacket
buckled at the chest. I still felt strange, but at least this time I knew I wouldn’t be laughed at.
“You look good,” Priss said. I thanked her even though I was still bitter about the prank.
Now that I blended in with the others, Priss and I donned a mask and headed onto the
smoggy streets. Next on our to-do list was breakfast at her favorite cafe. At one point, the cafe
might have been a charming place to sit and eat. In front of the building was a three-tiered
might have been a charming place to sit and eat. In front of the building was a three-tiered
fountain constructed of twisted bronze. But the metal had turned a sickly green, and the water
was stagnant and murky. The entrance of the cafe had a sculpted, stone arch and expansive, glass
windows. But the stone had eroded, and the glass had fogged. Just outside the door, a scrawny
man lay sleeping. Priss paid him no mind.
No sooner did we open the cafe door than the robust smell of coffee penetrated our masks.
So strong was the earthy scent that it soaked into my clothes and my hair. The drink itself, which
Priss insisted I tried, was more bitter. It took several spoons of sugar and cream to make the
drink palatable.
Even so, breakfast was delicious. I stuffed my face with a variety of flaky and buttery
pastries. Some were filled with vanilla cream. Others were coated in chocolate or topped with
berries. Nothing in our village boasted anything so sweet.
“You don’t eat a lot of pastries in your village?” Priss asked.
“Not anything like this,” I said. I was overwhelmed by the textures and flavors, which
seemed crafted with such skill and subtlety. To me, the pastries were a masterpiece of art. To
Priss, they were just breakfast.
“What is your village like?” she asked. She watched me with an intent but tender gaze.
I dusted the crumbs off my jacket and scratched my head. I never thought to describe my
village. Why would I? It was the only place I knew, and the only people I knew lived there as
well. There was no need to find words for something that was all around us.
“Uh, it’s green. There are trees.” What a dumb thing to say. She could’ve guessed that. Even
so, Priss’s eyes lit up with wonder. So I must have said something right. “There are fields of
corn taller than you or me, mountains that touch the sky, and a river with soft, sweet water.”
“It sounds so peaceful,” she said. The ground rumbled, and I heard the whistle and groan of
some great vehicle underground. But Priss paid it no mind. It was just the everyday buzz of city
life.
“It is,” I said. “The only stress we know is long, harvest days and cold, winter nights. Oh,
and … Well, boys have to pass a trial.”
“What kind of trial?” Priss asked.
“To call yourself a man, you need to climb the mountain and retrieve the Wise One’s Tear.
It’s like a stone from our goddess.”
“Did you do it?”
I shook my head. “Almost. I was on top of the mountain when I saw Okwaho being taken.
Instead of getting the tear, I decided to get him,” I said.
“I don’t have a brother, and I don’t know yours,” Priss said. “But I think he’s more valuable
than some stone.”
She was right. But it was hard to appreciate the truth when I had neither my brother nor the
tear in hand.
Having finished breakfast, Priss took me outside again. The sleeping man had moved from
his resting place. I spotted him in a dark alley, stumbling with an opaque bottle in hand. Again,
Priss paid him no mind.
We continued downtown to an expansive square, where dozens of rusted cars buzzed and
spat smoke. The area was so packed with people that the rush of the crowd nearly carried me
away. And with the constant chatter of cars, it was almost impossible to hear Priss. Even so, it
was obvious to see why she had taken me there.

Buildings surrounded us on all sides. Each glowed with fluorescent lights of every shade.
Radiating messages popped out from the buildings, and translucent people danced in the sky. It
was a mind-boggling scene of beautiful chaos.
“We don’t usually come here,” Priss shouted over the crowd. “It’s too busy and full of
pickpockets.” She glanced around with suspicion and held her hands over her pockets.
“Let’s get a better view,” I said.
“A better view? What are you talking about?” I grabbed Priss’s hand and pulled her through
the crowd. The cars honked as we darted across the street. “Dekan!” she yelled.
But I knew what I was doing. A triangular building that looked directly onto the square had a
low roof. It was only a few stories high. What’s more, there was a ladder on the side of the
building. We could climb the ladder and swing over to the roof to get a higher view. It took her a
few moments, but Priss caught on to my plan eventually. As soon as she did, she shook her head
and put down her foot. She looked up at the rusted ladder with eyes wide.
“Come on,” I said. “It’ll be fun. It’s just like climbing a tree.”
“I’ve never climbed a tree,” Priss said.
I let go of her hand and bounded up the ladder. As far as I was concerned, the ladder was far
easier to climb than a tree. “What are you worried about?” I asked.
“Uh falling,” she said.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” I said. I leapt down and lifted her onto the ladder. Her hands
were shaking. “I’ll be right below you. I won’t let you fall.” Despite several nervous murmurs,
Priss climbed up one uncertain step at a time. Before long, she was at the roof. All she needed to
do was push off with her foot and jump on. Even so, Priss hesitated and looked down at the
do was push off with her foot and jump on. Even so, Priss hesitated and looked down at the
ground thirty feet below.
Without so much as a thought, I jumped from the lower rung and pulled myself onto the
roof. Holding Priss’s hand, I helped her onto the roof. Even after she was safe, she clung to my
arm. Her touch was warm and gentle, just like the smile that appeared on my face.
“Oh wow,” she said. “I’ve never seen the square like this before.” Rather than strain our
necks to look at the animated lights, we needed only to look around us. Bright yellows and
greens shone against Priss’s face and glistened in her eyes. She looked like part of the spectacle
herself, and I didn’t want to look anywhere else.
Below us the crowds bustled like a school of fish in a moonlit river. They were beyond
count. Just a day prior, I didn’t even know there existed so many people in the world.
After several moments of silence, Priss turned to me with a smile. “In the Bellows, you
spend your whole life looking up,” she said. “I never thought I’d get the chance to look down.”
But the city rose still hundreds of feet above. As if to remind her of this fact, a crumpled ball
of paper tumbled through the sky and fell onto Priss’s head. Irritated, she grumbled and kicked
the paper aside.
“What is that?” I asked. As far as I knew, water was the only thing that rained from the sky.
“Garbage,” she said in a disgruntled tone. “Oftentimes, the people of the upper city throw
their trash at us.”
“Why?”
“Why not? They don’t ever see it, so it’s not their problem. It’s ours,” she said.
“That’s not right,” I said with a frown.
“Oh, this is nothing,” Priss said. “But imagine what would happen if that were a glass bottle
“Oh, this is nothing,” Priss said. “But imagine what would happen if that were a glass bottle
instead of a ball of paper. We don’t need to imagine such things because they happen on a
regular basis. And do you think those scum see any justice? Of course not.” Priss hugged her
arms across her chest. “Poverty. Alcohol. Drugs. These people don’t get what they deserve.”
One day in the Bellows was not enough to understand the struggles of its people. There was
sickness there. That was certain. Even so, there was beauty in the lower depths of Kingsholm.
There was kindness in its people. And that was something worth defending.
“And what do the rebels want to do to fix all this?” I asked.
Priss puffed her chest and sighed. Below, in the twisted alleyways, a lanky man with a torn
shirt clutched his belly. Beside him, a woman lay collapsed against the wall. Her feet were bare,
and her head bobbed slowly.
“There’s a lot to do,” Priss said. The weight of her words suggested that was a massive
understatement.
“Do you want them to live here and you to live there?” I asked.
“Yes and no,” she said. “Deeper problems take time to fix. There is no instant solution, and
there never will be. But we can’t make the changes that need to be made until we get control.”
“You can’t just talk with them? When our tribe has a problem, all the adults gather to talk
about it.”
Priss snorted. “They wouldn’t talk with us unless forced to do so.”
I sighed. These problems were too great for me. What could I, an innocent kid, do to solve
the adult problems of an adult world beyond my understanding? I needed to find Okwaho. Then
we could go home and forget these troubles. Adsila and I could run by the river or climb the
trees. We could pretend nothing had changed. Somehow it already felt impossible.
“What’s that?” I said. I pointed to a far-off structure whose pointed arches and ornate
decorations differed from the rest of the city. The architecture was intimidating, captivating, and
beautiful all at once.
“We don’t go there,” Priss said in a serious tone.
But I was already scurrying down the ladder. “Come on,” I said. “I want to see it.”
“Dekan. Wait!” Priss called. By the time she hopped onto the ladder, I was already on the
ground. She descended with slow, wobbly steps. But I was already scurrying off to sate my
curiosity.
“Come on, Priss,” I said. Cars honked as I sprinted across the road. People cursed as I
pushed my way through the crowd. But I laughed and ran ahead anyway. Priss was several yards
behind, calling after me still.
When the building was a few blocks away, the crowd started to dissipate. How strange, I
thought. The building was beautiful. Whoever had built it knew how to make solid stone look
like flowing water. What’s more, the smog started to clear. I even took off my mask without
coughing from the foul air. But the streets were quiet. Abandoned.
As I approached the building, I slowed to take in the sight. Centered on its face was an
expansive window with colored red and green glass. Vines of ivy accented the white, stone
structure with broad leaves tainted black.
“Dekan,” Priss said, catching up to me.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “What is it?”
“It’s the Church of the Ancients. People used to come here to pray,” she said. She removed
her mask to breathe in the fresh air. Her lips pulled back in a look of unease. “But that was a
her mask to breathe in the fresh air. Her lips pulled back in a look of unease. “But that was a
long time ago.”
I thought of my village and our goddess. Faith gave people hope and guidance, two things
Kingsholm needed. But the ancients’ wisdom had grown old. Now they had moved on to a more
concrete faith.
“Can we see inside?” I asked. I wondered what their ancients looked like and what they had
taught. Maybe they were not so different from our Wise One.
But Priss shook her head. “No. In fact, we should go before someone sees us,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Are we not supposed to be here?”
As if in answer, Priss pulled up her mask and took me by the arm. I tried to slip out of her
grasp to get one last look at the church, but she spun me around regardless. At once, we scurried
down the alleyway. I had no idea what we were running from, but I found out soon enough.
Two men appeared at the opposite end of the alley. Their heads were cut short and marked
by a single, red stripe. Priss immediately turned around and looked for another path.
“Whoa whoa. Where are you going?” one of the guys said. His teeth were skinny and
brown.
“We just took a wrong turn,” Priss said.
“You must’ve taken several wrong turns to wind up here,” the other guy said. His nose was
red and forked with purple veins. “This is the Red Wings’ territory. You don’t come here unless
you’ve got business.”
“Red Wings? What’s that?” I asked. Priss tugged at my arm to pull me down the road. But
the men caught up to us and barred our way.
“Where you going, little girl? Your friend asked a question,” the man with the brown smile
“Where you going, little girl? Your friend asked a question,” the man with the brown smile
said. His harsh tone made me uncomfortable.
“He’s new here,” Priss said. The men studied her face with a narrowed gaze. “He doesn’t
know about the city. We got lost. That’s all.”
“Take off your mask,” the red-nosed man said. “Go on, girl. I won’t ask you again.” Priss
sighed and did as asked. She bowed her head to hide her face, but the man pushed her chin up
with his finger. The moment he saw her, he smirked. “I thought I recognized you. You’re
Lundergan’s runt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Priss said.
“What are you doing here, Prissy?” the man with brown teeth said. “What’s daddy got you
doing now? This is our neighborhood. This is our city.”
“I’m not doing anything,” she said. One of the men grabbed her arm and yanked her to his
side.
“Let go of me,” Priss shouted.
“Hey! Don’t touch her,” I said. I had no idea who they were, but I knew no man should treat
a girl like that. The men laughed. They looked at me with irritated, red eyes.
“You’re with her. You’re not getting away either,” the red-nosed man said. He reached out to
grab me, but I slapped his hand away. That was a mistake. The man scowled and punched me in
the jaw. I stumbled back as a wave pain washed over my face. My lip split and ran with blood.
While the attention was still on me, Priss bit the other man’s hand and kicked him between
the legs. He stumbled over as his eyes rolled back in his head. The other man rushed at her with
his hand raised. But before he could strike Priss, I grabbed the end of his coat and pulled him
back. He yanked on his coat, but I spun around him and flipped the coat over his face. With his
back. He yanked on his coat, but I spun around him and flipped the coat over his face. With his
vision covered, Priss punched the man in the nose and pushed him onto his friend.
“Come on,” Priss said. Together we sprinted down the alley towards the bustling square.
“We won’t forget this, Lundergan. You’re dead,” the men said as they writhed on the floor.
But we were already beyond their reach.
My heart throbbed to an erratic beat, and a breathless smile was on my face. I had no idea
what we walked into. And I must admit it was exciting. Even so, shame coated my neck in
blush. None of this was on Priss’s to-do list, and I didn’t want to upset her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I ruined your plans.”
But her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and her throat rang with laughter. “It’s okay.
That was fun,” she said. “I haven’t had fun in a while. But we should take care of your lip.” She
was right. Blood was dripping down my chin, and my mouth tasted of iron. “Come on. Let’s
take you home.”

The Guarded Door

Truth be told, my jaw ached like nothing I had felt before. Back in our village, pain was an
alien sensation. We had no fights, accidents, or injuries. Once Okwaho broke his arm after
falling out of a tree. But that was his problem, not mine. So, for me, a split lip and sore jaw was
a tragedy like no other.
“Are you alright?” Priss asked as I clutched my face. There were actual nurses in the
infirmary. But she sat me down and tended to me herself.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I lied. With a dainty finger, she turned my head this way and that. I winced
as she looked at me closer. “Who were those guys?”
Priss sighed and rolled her eyes. “The Red Wings,” she said. “They’re a gang. They sell
drugs to the community. Their base is in the Church of the Ancients, which is why I didn’t want
to go there.”
“What kind of drugs? Like medicine?” I said.
“No. Not like medicine,” Priss said with a smirk. “They make something called Radiance.
Those who take it are filled with joy and see a world sparkling with light. But it’s terribly
addictive. Take it once, and you’ll think of nothing else. These addicts would spend their whole
life savings for another taste of the stuff. It’s awful. But the Red Wings don’t care so long as
they make their money.”
“Have you tried it?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t be here if I did. I’d be collapsed in a gutter somewhere.”
“Or in front of a cafe?” I said, remembering the man sleeping there. Priss nodded.
As my lips pulled into a frown, the cut opened and trickled blood. Priss disappeared for a
As my lips pulled into a frown, the cut opened and trickled blood. Priss disappeared for a
moment and returned with a rag wrapped around some ice. Without speaking, she placed the rag
to my lip. I grimaced from a sharp jolt of pain.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” she said.
“No,” I said, blushing. “Your touch is … uh … soft.” A smile flickered briefly on Priss’s
lips. She stared into my eyes as she held the rag to my face. And I stared into hers. Whatever
pain I felt washed away in the current of her nebulous, blue eyes.
A tinge of pink warmed her cheeks. She looked away. “Thank you for defending me,” she
said.
“I don’t think you needed my help,” I said.
“Oh, of course not.” Priss flipped her hair from one shoulder to the other. The pleasant scent
of spring flowers and street dust wafted across my face. “But I appreciate the gesture. It was
sweet.”
Quick, irritated steps rang from the hall, louder and louder with every clack. Priss’s gaze
fell, and she sighed as if certain who was coming. “Here,” she said, giving me the rag. “Hold it
against your face. It’ll help with the swelling.”
Just as she finished speaking, William strode into the room. “There you are,” he said with a
sharp tone. “Priscilla, you know better than to visit that part of town. And you should certainly
know better than to bring an innocent guest that way. You’re lucky he needs only a cloth and
some ice rather than a stretcher.”
“Father, I —”
“I don’t want to hear it, Priscilla. You want to lead these people? Then, lead them, but not to
such crooked sections of town.”

“It was my idea,” I said. “I saw the church and thought it was pretty. So I ran ahead. It’s not
her fault.”
William softened his tone as he spoke to me, but his cold gaze remained fixed on his
daughter. “You are not of this city, Dekanawida. You do not understand where to go and where
not to go. So I cannot blame you for your actions. Priscilla, however, knows right from wrong.
And usually she has no trouble getting people to do what she wants.”
Something about me was different. Either Priss couldn’t control me or didn’t want to. The
pride that swelled inside me, however, was tempered by lingering guilt. No matter what William
said, I knew I was responsible for what happened. And so I was also responsible for his yelling
at Priss. I didn’t mean to start any trouble.
A tense silence spread through the room. It weighed down on Priss and me, heavy with
William’s disappointment. I didn’t look up at the rebel leader. Even so, I knew his expression
was full of anger and disappointment.
At last, William broke the quiet with a drawn-out sigh. He must have realized we’re just
kids, I thought. He shouldn’t expect anything from us. But the way he spoke suggested nothing
of the sort.
“You’ve met the Red Wings then,” he said to me. “Awful, aren’t they?”
“Awful,” I repeated. I’m not sure what else I could have said.
“They would keep all of the Bellows impoverished if it meant they had power,” William
continued. “And meanwhile, the upper city is laughing at us, laughing at how we fight amongst
ourselves and keep ourselves down. But don’t worry. We have a man on the inside. We know
where they manufacture Radiance. When the time is right, we will destroy it, and in the
where they manufacture Radiance. When the time is right, we will destroy it, and in the
weakness that ensues, we will strike. Isn’t that right, Priscilla?” She bowed her head.
“And what about the people?” I asked.
“What people?” William said. He pulled his hat over his ears and looked at me with a pursed
brow.
“The addicts. Take it once, and you’ll think of nothing else. Right?” I said. Priss smiled
despite herself.
William crossed his arms and nodded to himself. “Yes. That’s right,” he said. “But there is
medicine to help them off their addiction and ease the symptoms of withdrawal.”
“Do they have access to that medicine?” I said. I looked at the icy rag in my hand. Blood
stained the damp cloth, and cool water dripped through my fingers.
The corners of William’s lips turned up with pleasant surprise. After a moment of
admiration, William uncrossed his arms and strode to the door. “I wanted to talk to you about
something, Dekanawida,” he said. “But first I have a meeting. Priscilla, come.”
“What kind of meeting?” I asked.
“The important kind.”
“Can I come?”
“No.”
“But Priss is going,” I said. “Is it about the Red Wings?”
“Not this time,” William said. Priss dragged her feet to her father’s side. “I see your injury
isn’t too severe. Feel free to walk around or relax in your room. I’ll send Priscilla to get you
once our meeting is finished.”
“Thank you,” I said with a lopsided smile. I watched Priss and her father leave. Neither
“Thank you,” I said with a lopsided smile. I watched Priss and her father leave. Neither
appeared especially happy. I wondered what they had to talk about.
Left to my own devices, I wandered through the rebel hideout. Without a guide, the halls
passed like a twisting labyrinth from building to underground building. Dim, blue lights shone
from the ceiling. They led me upstairs and down, around this corner and that. I hoped William
really would send Priss to get me after their meeting because I was lost.
To be fair, it would help if I actually knew where I wanted to go. It was too early for dinner
and too early for bed. And how could I relax with Brother Wolf still missing?
To pass the time, I popped my head in every open door. Kingsholm was full of technological
wonders. I assumed the rebel home was no different. But reality was disappointing. Behind the
first door, I found a closet full of dirty brooms, dusty ladders, and cleaning supplies. The acrid
stench of chemicals made my head spin. Inside, a woman filled a bucket with steaming water.
She looked at me and then at the bucket.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“No, thank you. Have a nice day,” I said. Nothing of interest there.
A second door revealed a complex network of red and orange wires. They wove in and
around the walls, coating the entire room in color. At the center of the back wall, the wires
converged at a metal panel with blinking red and green lights. On the panel were several buttons
and switches, each labeled with black words and numbers. It made no sense to me, which made
it all the more tempting to play with. Sadly, a mustachioed man came in and shooed me out. He
said something about electricity and danger, but I wasn’t listening.
Behind the third door was a massive pool of water. I heard a mechanical whirring and a low
hum. Due to the room’s expansive size and hard, stone walls, the sound bounced all around until
hum. Due to the room’s expansive size and hard, stone walls, the sound bounced all around until
I felt it in my bones. People inspected the water with various instruments and fished out objects
floating there. The pool looked clean enough to me, and I had grown thirsty from all my
wandering. So I dipped my hands in to have a drink. But the people yelled at me.
As I scurried off, a growing unease filled my belly. Kingsholm was a foreign world with
unknown customs. I couldn’t take two steps without doing something wrong. One of those steps
brought me to a gang’s doorstep and left me with a bruised jaw. Life at home was safer and
simpler. I wanted my brother. I wanted to go home.
While I strolled down the hall, my head drooped low, and my feet began to drag. I was the
spitting image of dejection. From somewhere down the hall, a man called out to me. “Hey kid,
what’s the matter with you?” he said. It was John. He rubbed his lengthy nose and waved me
over. “Dekan, right?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“What are you bored or something?” John said. “Prissy left you behind?” I nodded. “Eh tell
me about it.”
I looked at him and then back down the hall. The pale yellow walls extended for several
yards without any markings or exits. In the entire corridor, there was only one door. John stood
in front of it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“What does it look like? I’m guarding this door,” he said. He pointed to the metal door
behind him with a crooked thumb.
“Why?”
“Because it’s not safe.”

“If it’s not safe, why are you standing there?” I asked.
At once, his brow scrunched together. “To keep people from going in there.”
“But what if you want to go in there?” I asked. “Who will stop you from going in there?”
“I don’t want to go in there.”
“I do,” I said with a smile.
“I’m sure you do.”
“What’s in there?”
“You’re starting to irritate me, boy,” John said. “Go on. This is no place to play.”
Groaning to myself, I stomped down the hall. But my curiosity got the better of me as it
always did. I turned back to ask another question, but John shooed me off. He wouldn’t tell me
what was in there, and he certainly wouldn’t show me. Whatever it was, it was important.
Naturally, the best way to pique my curiosity was to tell me no. So I sneaked around the
corner to find another entrance. I looked for a door, a window, or even a vent. But there was
nothing. From what I could tell, the room was a giant, metal box with one way in and one way
out.
Again I felt useless. I couldn’t do anything right, and I couldn’t do anything wrong either. I
slumped down against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. There was a row of skylights
covered in soot. Light shone through in diffuse, gray bands.
Just then, an idea occurred to me, and a mischievous smile filled my cheeks. I picked myself
up and strode back the way I had come. As soon as John saw me, he groaned and shook his
head.
“Dekan, I already told you —” he started.

“I’m not doing anything suspicious,” I said with my head held high.
“That’s funny because suspicious is exactly how you look,” John said.
Regardless, I marched ahead. The secret room was not my first stop even if it was my last.
No. First I returned to the dusty closet with cleaning supplies. Thankfully, the woman had
finished filling her bucket some time ago. I took one of the ladders propped against the wall. It
was heavy but not so heavy to discourage my curiosity.
With the ladder in my grasp, I passed by John once more. This time his irritation carried a
hint of anger. “Alright,” he said. “I don’t know where you’re going with that or what you’re
planning on doing with it, but I’ll tell you something. I don’t like it. Whatever’s going on here, I
don’t like it.”
“This is no place to play,” I said, repeating John’s words. “I found a new place to play.”
“No. No no. No one plays with a ladder,” he said. “I swear to God …”
“Don’t worry,” I said, walking past him.
“I am worried. Don’t make me follow you.”
“You can’t. You need to guard the door,” I said. John gritted his teeth and muttered to
himself. I almost felt bad for him. But I just wanted to see what was inside. I wasn’t going to
hurt anyone. I would be careful.
Back in the hall with the skylights, I set up the ladder. I climbed to the highest rung and
reached towards the skylight. Just two metal latches kept it closed. Having unlatched the
window, I pulled myself onto the roof. The toxic air tickled my throat for a second before I
remembered my mask.
Lofty buildings surrounded me like an unbreakable ring of glass and metal. There was no
Lofty buildings surrounded me like an unbreakable ring of glass and metal. There was no
access to the ground, nor any vision of it. So I had no idea how high or low I was. But it didn’t
matter. Beside me was the roof of the secret room, and it also had skylights.
Perfect, I thought. I’ll just take a quick peek and return the ladder like nothing happened.
But as soon as I stepped on the roof, it bent and groaned. It was as clear a warning as an
inanimate building could give. Since the building was walled off, I doubt the roof was well-
maintained. Its stone was weathered and its timber rotten. Nonetheless, I braved ahead. A peek
couldn’t hurt.
With cautious steps, I walked over the center of the room and approached one of the
skylights. The glass was coated in a horrid, black film. I couldn’t see a thing. I reached out to
wipe off the glass with my sleeve. But as I did, I heard a low crack like ice splitting.
“Careful. Careful,” I said to myself. With gentle movements, I scraped off the thick layer of
gunk. Although foggy, the glass was clear enough to reveal the room beneath. I just needed to
lean over to learn what secrets John guarded so fiercely.
No sooner did I bend over than the roof crumbled inward. I fell twenty feet down along with
the dilapidated stone and timber. I slammed onto the windshield of a car, cracking the entire
length of the glass.
“Oh no …” I said to myself. John would not be happy. Already I heard him screaming from
the hall. And he wasn’t the only one. Soon the room was flooded with people there to investigate
the source of the commotion. There was no sense in hiding.
Brushing off the debris, I looked around the room. There was not just one car, but dozens.
Beside them were just as many aircraft. Some of the vehicles were newer models with sleek
bodies of shimmering chrome. I assumed they were stolen from the upper city. But most
bodies of shimmering chrome. I assumed they were stolen from the upper city. But most
vehicles were rusted and old. Mounted on each of them were turrets of various sizes and
designs. They sat atop the cars and aircrafts like hideous, metallic growths. It was clear from the
ugly welding and differing shades of metal that these were new additions.
In one corner of the room, beside a shadowy tunnel, was a cache of guns and ammunition. I
knew nothing of battle, not even of my own people’s tactics. But in my eyes, there was enough
firepower to set the whole world ablaze.
Now I knew why John was stationed outside the door. He was guarding the rebels’ armory.
By the looks of it, they were preparing for war.

The Rash and the Wise

John was first to come in. He cursed and screamed and stomped around. He pulled at his
beard and tugged on his nose. “They’re going to kill me,” he said. “Oh god, kid. Why couldn’t
you just listen?”
I brushed the debris off my coat and stood among the wreckage. All the while, John shouted
at me and at himself and at no one in particular. Hot blush surged in my cheeks. The shame was
unbearable. So I bowed my head and waited for the ordeal to end.
After John, several others came to investigate the commotion. They talked amongst
themselves, but I felt their stares on my neck. “He’s just a kid,” I heard one of them say.
“Yeah,” John said, “And this kid is going to get me canned. I need this job. It’s this or the
streets. And I —”
“Chill out,” another man said. “Just clean up the mess before Lundergan finds out.”
“The freakin’ roof collapsed. What am I supposed to do?”
“Figure it out.”
“Real helpful. Thanks.”
“Hey! Just be glad nothing exploded. You see the firepower in here?”
When I looked over at John, his head hung low like mine. Sighing, he motioned for me to
come over. At once, I tried to apologize, but he shook his head and told me to be quiet.
“I know you didn’t mean to do this,” he said. “I’m more mad at myself than at you. I saw
you with the ladder, so I should have known you were doing something stupid.” I rubbed the
back of my head and looked up at him sparingly. John knelt down beside me. “Look. I don’t
know what we’re going to do about the roof. But first things first, we gotta clean this up.”
“I know where to get a broom,” I said.
“Good. And whatever happened to that ladder, put it back. Quickly now!”
I rushed out of the armory and into the hall. Sprinting the whole way, I took the ladder and
returned to the closet. There I grabbed a broom and raced back to John. While he guarded the
door, I would sweep up the debris and dispose of it. I still had no idea what to do about the roof.
But one step at a time.
As it turned out, we didn’t even get past the first step. When I returned to the armory with a
broom in hand, John was missing. The door was open. Standing there was William and Priss.
“Ah, there you are,” William said. His brows was knit in an expression of anger, but his
voice remained calm and quiet. “I suppose I should thank you for illustrating the weakness in
our infrastructure. If a child could break in so easily, I suppose someone with worse intent would
have no trouble.”
“Dekan, what did you do?” Priss said.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I was just curious. I didn’t mean to,” I said.
“Don’t feel too bad,” William said. “You only destroyed one of our vehicles. It’s nothing
that can’t be repaired.”
“I’m sorry,” I said with a frown. “But it’s not John’s fault. Don’t blame him for any of this.
He didn’t do anything wrong, and he needs this job.”
William chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. John isn’t going anywhere. In fact, you’ve given him a
new job.” A disgruntled John shuffled towards me and snatched the broom out of my hands.
Although his lips were hidden behind his beard, John frowned with his eyes. I guess he didn’t
enjoy his new job.

I leaned close to Priss. “Am I in trouble?” I asked in a whisper. She giggled and smirked.
But when she looked at her father, she fell silent and serious.
“It’s fitting that you should see this,” the rebel leader said. He scratched his chin and stared
up at the hole in the ceiling. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“You’re preparing for war,” I said.
He smiled. “Let’s talk in my office.”
The office was a cramped, windowless box. Stacks of paper cluttered his desk, and shelves
of books covered the walls. Ceiling lamps bathed the space in heavy, gold light so that even my
skin took on a yellow shade.
I don’t know how anyone could function in such a suffocating atmosphere. Nonetheless,
William reclined back in his chair and spoke with ease. “You are right,” he said. “We are
preparing for war with the upper city. I cannot say when it will be, but it is coming soon.”
“Why?” I asked.
“You know why, Dekan,” Priss said.
She stood beside her father with her arms crossed. Seeing them next to each other, it
occurred to me how similar they looked. They had the same crooked nose and knitted brow.
They even had the same freckle on their cheek. But there was a brightness in Priss’s eyes and a
softness in her voice. I wonder if William ever had such qualities, or was he simply born stern
and cold.
Regardless, I knew what thoughts weighed on their minds. Poverty. Radiance. Raining trash.
And the very air they breathed was toxic. Above, the people of Kingsholm lived with wealth and
plenty. It wasn’t fair, and it wouldn’t change until someone did something about it.
Even so, violence seemed extreme. The Alguin tribe spoke less of warriors and more of
peacemakers. Our heroes were Hiawatha, who united our people, and Dekanawida, for whom I
was named. They didn’t start conflicts. They settled them.
“I see the hesitance in your eyes,” William said. “Oppressors do not aid the oppressed unless
their interests converge with their own.”
“So do something that benefits both of you,” I said. “No one needs to get hurt.”
“We don’t want to hurt anyone. But we have no choice,” Priss said. Her father nodded in
agreement.
“Our interests don’t align, and we can’t wait until they do,” he said. “Their prosperity is built
on our suffering. We have sacrificed enough. Now it is their turn.”
“But war only leads to more suffering,” I said.
“Better to wait then?” William said. “Wait while my people suffer and die? Of other causes.
Sure. But no less terrible.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to talk about such serious matters, especially ones that had nothing to
do with me. Where was Okwaho? We needed to go home.
William laced his fingers into an uncomfortable knot. With every word, he tapped the knot
against the table. The sound was loud and dull. “When you are a man, you will understand. You
cannot please everyone. Someone always gets hurt somehow. Sometimes that pain is necessary.”
“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” I asked. As nice as it was to see Priss again, the
conversation really spoiled my mood. Maybe it’s what I deserved after destroying their armory.
Rather than give me a straight answer, William talked around my question. I noticed it was a
habit of his. “Forget the Bellows for a moment,” he said. “What if your village was the victim?
habit of his. “Forget the Bellows for a moment,” he said. “What if your village was the victim?
What would you do to defend your people?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s a decision for our elder.”
“But your people are worth defending, right?”
“Of course.”
“Some action is justified?”
“Yes,” I said with a groan. “Where is Okwaho? I came here for him. I waited here for him.
This war doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
As soon as I said that, Priss frowned and shook her head. “Not this war.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“You came here for your brother,” William said. “But he doesn’t want to go home just yet.
He knows the truth.” Golden light reflected off his eyes.
“What truth?” I said.
“Your tribe is in danger.”
“What are you talking about?”
William wet his finger and rifled through the stack of papers. He selected one of them and
slid it across the table. A translucent image was printed on the paper, but it made no sense to me.
“I assume you don’t know what palladium is,” the rebel leader said. I shook my head. “It is a
rare and valuable metal used frequently in our technology. To continue to grow, Kingsholm
needs more of it.”
I looked down at the paper. “Is this palladium?”
“That’s your home,” Priss said. I squinted at the image but didn’t see a resemblance. “The
dark patches are palladium. The upper city scanned your city from above.” Once again I
dark patches are palladium. The upper city scanned your city from above.” Once again I
inspected the image. Now I saw it. It was a top-down picture of our mountain and valley. Black
streaks ran throughout both.
“So, you mean …”
William nodded. “According to our contacts up top, they are planning to take your land.
That’s why they took your brother. They wanted to learn everything they could before the
invasion.”
“What are you talking about? That’s …” Priss offered a comforting smile. William nodded
solemnly.
“Your brother told us they questioned him about your village,” he said. “He told us they
wanted to know how many people lived there, what sort of weapons they had, and if they could
be reasoned with.”
After the initial shock wore off, anger filled its place. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said.
Priss held up her hands. “I didn’t know. He didn’t tell me either,” she said.
“You have your own assignments to worry over,” William said to his daughter. She crossed
her arms and pouted. Then to me, “And I thought you were too young to understand such things.
All you wanted was to see your brother.”
“And where is he? You told me he was on a mission. What mission?”
The lights flickered and buzzed. William sighed and removed his hat. His hair was as thin
and white as a crone’s, and his hairline was receding fast. He took off his glasses and rubbed his
eyes. Dark grooves underscored his tired gaze. Whatever his age, William was older than his
years.
“Kingsholm is governed by a council of five noble families. There are the Browns, the
“Kingsholm is governed by a council of five noble families. There are the Browns, the
Ungers, the Reids, the Lees, and the Wrights. These families are supposed to have equal power
and an equal voice, but in truth, they are controlled by one woman alone,” William said. “Scarlet
Wright has dirt on every member of every family. She has fingers in every industry and coins in
everyone’s pocket. She takes what she wants when she wants. Some have taken to calling her
the Theft Queen. If there is one person responsible for the state of this city, it is her.”
“Okay. So what does that have to do with Okwaho?” I said.
“Scarlet Wright is also responsible for the plans to invade your village,” he said. “That is
why Okwaho agreed to kill her.”
Brother was no stranger to killing. After he passed his trial and became a man, Okwaho
began hunting rabbit, deer, and fowl. He had a talent for it too. But hunting and murder are not
the same thing. Brother was impulsive but no so impulsive to consider something so horrible. Or
so I thought.
“How could you ask that of him?” I said.
“We both benefit from her death,” he said.
“And …” Priss said. She tapped her foot and rolled her eyes.
“And your brother clearly is not one of us. If he is caught, the attempt on Scarlet’s life
cannot be tied back to us.”
William didn’t care about Okwaho or our tribe. He only wanted to use us for his benefit.
Maybe I was being used too.
“How can I trust anything you say?” I said. “You didn’t tell me the truth before. Why should
I believe you now?”
“He’s telling the truth,” Priss said. I trusted her more than her father. Although mature, there
“He’s telling the truth,” Priss said. I trusted her more than her father. Although mature, there
was still some innocence in her. And by the sad tone of her voice, she didn’t like the news either.
“How do we know if he is caught?” I asked. Already two days had passed. Still, Okwaho
had not returned.
“As I said, we have contacts in the upper city,” William said. He put his glasses back on.
They slid down his crooked nose and shone in the yellow light. “If something happens, I should
hear from them.” Should. Even if William did hear something, I wasn’t sure he would tell me.
Trust is hard to forge but easily broken. “I am sorry, Dekanawida. I do not like my methods
anymore than you, but I must do everything I can to protect my people.”
“Even if it hurts my people?”
“Your people would have been invaded regardless of Okwaho’s actions. If anything, I am
helping your people, whether they are aware of it or not,” William said. He donned his hat and
pulled it snug over his ears. “Please understand. I did not force him. I merely told your brother
the truth about the upper city’s plans as they were told to me. Your brother did what he thought
was necessary to protect his people just as I did what I thought was necessary to protect mine.”
But would it really protect our people? No matter who led Kingsholm, we were at their
mercy. I had seen the city’s technology, and I understood only a fraction of it. Even so, that
fraction was enough to roll over our puny village.
“If you gained power,” I asked, “Would you leave our tribe alone?”
“Of course,” Priss said. Her soft, blue gaze held my attention for a long, meaningful second.
“Because we know what it means to be oppressed.”
William nodded. “We have no desire to become what we promised to vanquish.”
“Why didn’t you help him?” I said.

“We did. We helped him reach the upper city and gave him the guidance to find Scarlet
Wright,” William said. But he knew that wasn’t what I meant. “Some tasks are better performed
by one man than an army. We cannot risk open war. Not yet. That is a conflict we would lose.”
He raised his finger with a smile, unbothered by the topic of discussion. “But assassination
would destabilize the city enough to create a power vacuum, which we could fill.”
I groaned. Assassination. War. Power vacuums. It was beyond me. I wanted to help, but I
couldn’t. Not with any of this.
“I just want my brother,” I said. “Whatever he did or didn’t do, I need to find him so we can
warn the village. Can you take me to the upper city?”
Priss cast one hesitant glance at her father and then shuffled to my side. “I can show you the
way,” she said. “But I can’t follow you past our borders.”
William leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His muted gaze fell on the two of us
together. But his focus was somewhere far beyond us. I waited for him to speak, but he said
nothing.
“Thank you, Priss,” I said. Then to her father, “And thank you. You and your people have
shown me great hospitality. I hope I did not cause you too much trouble.”
Waking from his daze, William sat up in his chair. A pleasant smile was on his face, and his
tone was bright and cheery. “No. Not at all,” he said. “I wish you a safe journey.”
I smiled back and fished out the stone around my neck. “My father made this for me. It’s a
protective talisman. It will keep me safe.”
“How charming,” William said with the slightest touch of sarcasm. I didn’t care what he
thought. The talisman had value to me, and I believed in it. I ran my thumb over the carved
thought. The talisman had value to me, and I believed in it. I ran my thumb over the carved
spiral. It would protect me. I just hoped I was quick enough to protect Okwaho.
As Priss and I headed towards the door, William cleared his throat. “Dekanawida, if I may
say one more thing.” I turned to face him. His pleasant smile remained, but the warmth had
faded from his voice. “If you truly want to protect your people, action is necessary. Your brother
was rash, but he was right. Do not be too hard on him.”
Father taught me to listen to my elders. Experience had taught them wisdom. Wisdom would
guide them as leaders, and the world would be better for it. But I tired of his lectures. If he was
so wise, why was there still so much hurt in the Bellows? I forced a smile and waved goodbye.
Maybe the talisman would protect me from his wisdom, too.

A Joyful Flutter
In the age of flying cars and stark divide, the ways to the upper city were few and far
between. Once there were elevators that brought people up and down. The wealthy mingled with
the poor on these magical rides to the city peaks. But the powerful carved a place amid the
clouds. They built bridges between themselves while the weak sank to the bottom. With no need
for the elevators, they let them fall into disrepair along with the rest of the Bellows.
But the rebels were not without their talents. They had repaired some of the lifts in
preparation for war. Sadly, this secret needed to remain a secret for now. So the only way for me
to reach the upper city was to climb the stairs.
“Where will you go?” Priss said between exhausted pants. We had only climbed ten flights.
There were still ninety to go.
I shrugged. I hadn’t thought of it. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“Scarlet lives and works in the tallest tower. It’s called the Blossom Tower. Looks like a
flower. You can’t miss it. I bet your brother went there.”
“And how many rooms are in the Blossom Tower?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
A lot I guessed. “You think he’s hiding in there?”
“It’s possible.”
“And it’s possible that he’s not.”
Priss stopped to catch her breath. “Dad said we would know if he got captured.”
“How soon would we know?” I asked.
She climbed a few steps and then stopped. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion and
She climbed a few steps and then stopped. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion and
embarrassment. “There’s a prison in the Blossom Tower. One of our guys got locked up there
before. If you can’t find him anywhere, I would check there.”
“Maybe I should check there first,” I said. If he had stayed hidden from Kingsholm this
long, what chance did I have of finding him? I almost wished he was captured. It would make
my job easier.
We climbed higher and higher. But the smudged windows showed only smog. And on every
floor, faded, black numbers counted the way to the upper city. I tried not to look. My legs ached,
and my chest pounded. But there were dozens of floors left.
On Floor 52, we stopped again. Priss sat with her legs crossed. She rested her head against
the door, which led who knows where.
While I rubbed the sweat from my forehead, I motioned towards the door. “Does anyone live
here?” I said.
Priss laughed. “Would you climb this many steps every day?” she said.
I shrugged. “If the choice is Floor 52 or the street, I might choose Floor 52.”
She shook her head. “If it’s even a possibility that you’ll sleep on the street, then you
probably don’t have the strength to climb so high.”
“So all this space,” I said, “In all these buildings is just wasted?”
She nodded. “That’s what happens when you ignore the least of your society. All the
beautiful things you built together slowly fall into disarray.”
What a horrible thought. In our village, no person fell behind, and no resource went wasted.
If a deer was killed, we cooked the meat to feed the hungry. We made clothing of its skin to
clothe the needy. We made tools of its bones to aid our workers. To neglect the least of us was to
clothe the needy. We made tools of its bones to aid our workers. To neglect the least of us was to
neglect the whole.
“What will the rebels do now?” I asked.
“Against the upper city, there isn’t much to do. Not until an opportunity presents itself,”
Priss said. She wiped the sweat from her brow and frowned. “So all we can do is work to assert
dominance over the Red Wings. When we do take the upper city, we need to be united.”
I remembered our run-in with the Red Wings. My jaw was still sore. Whatever the rebels
chose to do, I am sure it was for the better. They corrupted the Bellows with their drugs, and
tainted the beauty of the church they inhabited. It was time to do something so the city could
heal.
“So what needs to be done?” I asked.
Priss smiled. “Why do you ask? Wanna help?”
“I would if I could,” I said, grinning too. “But I need to save my brother first.”
“I was only teasing. You don’t owe us anything, Dekan,” she said. “Besides, they’re in a
weak position already.”
“What do you mean?”
She smirked. “Do you remember when we found you?” I nodded. “One of my men sprayed
a red wing on the Kingsholm aircraft. The upper city doesn’t care about us, but even they know
the Red Wings.”
“You framed them.”
“Of course,” she said. She lifted her chin and shook out her hair in a display of triumph.
“Why fight our enemies when we can get them to fight each other? The upper city responded by
destroying one of their factories and arresting some of their leadership.”

“Now what?”
“I’m sure dad has his own ideas,” Priss said. Groaning, she got to her feet. “Come on. We’re
not there yet.”
“I’ll race you to the top,” I said with a smirk.
“Is that a challenge I hear?” she said. “You’re on.”
We bounded up the stairs, laughing and smiling all the way. I pulled ahead of Priss, but I
couldn’t enjoy her sweet smile if she fell behind. So I let her cut in front of me and skip ahead.
Adsila used to do the same thing when we raced. But she did it to tease me. At the last
second, she sprinted ahead with ease so I knew just how slow I was. I hated losing. With Priss, it
didn’t matter. I knew I could win. But I wanted to give her that pleasure.
Somewhere around Floor 70, Priss slowed down. I still had some energy in me. But for her
sake, I acted exhausted. “Alright alright,” I said. “That’s enough. You win. Let’s walk the rest.”
Priss stopped and bent over her knees. “You tried your best,” she said. Of course, I only
wanted her to think so. I made up some excuses about the polluted air choking my lungs and the
clothing weighing me down. “Yeah yeah. You’re just a sore loser,” she said.
“You sound like my friend,” I said.
“I’m sure he’s a good person.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Oh, she,” Priss said. She choked on the word as if it tasted foul on her tongue. I had no idea
why, so I kept talking.
“Do you play any games in the Bellows?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you play anything.”
Her face scrunched together while her eyes grew tender and glassy. I didn’t think it was an
Her face scrunched together while her eyes grew tender and glassy. I didn’t think it was an
upsetting question. But Priss sighed from deep within her chest.
“We have games. We play them on old televisions and computers. I hear they’re great. It’s
like stepping into another world,” she said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it sounds wonderful.”
Priss giggled and pulled at her hair. “I don’t know either. Dad doesn’t let me play,” she said.
“But I hear they’re fun. You can fight aliens beyond the stars, explore worlds beneath the
oceans, or build homes from blocks of wood and stone.”
“Whoa,” I said, still confused what she was talking about, “How does that work?”
She giggled again. “It’s not real. It’s just on a screen. You’re not actually … You know
what? It would be easier to show you than to explain it.”
“I’d like that,” I said. As we climbed the steps, my hand brushed against hers. I blushed and
pulled it back quickly. But Priss didn’t react in any way. She wiggled her nose and smiled. “Uhh
… you could come to my village. We don’t fight aliens or build fake homes, but we have our
own games. I don’t know if you’d like them, but they’re entertaining enough for my people.”
We reached Floor 80. I groaned at the sight of the number. Not because there was a lot of
floors to go, but because there wasn’t.
“I would just be happy to see a forest,” Priss said. “Dad has plants and trees in his
greenhouse. I bet he likes to think it’s a forest, but I want to see the real thing. I’ve never seen
something so full of life.”
I nodded. “It’s calm and quiet. You hear the breath of the wind and the leaves fluttering.
Maybe the occasional peep of the robins nesting.”
Priss’s eyes widened with intrigue. “I’ve never even seen a bird. We don’t know anything
Priss’s eyes widened with intrigue. “I’ve never even seen a bird. We don’t know anything
about peeps or nesting. All we hear is the roar of cars and the buzz of fluorescent lights.”
“There’s a charm to that,” I said.
She snorted. “You think so because you’ve never heard it before. Sometimes it drives me
insane,” she said.
“And you don’t know what it’s like to be waken at the crack of dawn to the chatter of forest
creatures and the groans of people working the fields.”
“You don’t like waking early?” Priss asked.
“Does anyone?” I said.
“Early to rise and early to bed makes a man well and wise and clear of head.” Priss chuckled
and rolled her eyes. “It’s just something dad says to me. And I tell him that I’m not a man.”
I snorted. “I’m not a man either. Not yet,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
We reached Floor 85. We were almost there. There wasn’t much time to explain, and I didn’t
know if Priss would understand.
“I am only a boy,” I said. “When a boy turns fourteen, he must retrieve the Wise One’s Tear
atop the mountain and return it to the village elder. Only then can he call himself a man. I was
on the mountain peak when I saw Brother Wolf taken by the upper city.”
“So you didn’t get the tear?” Priss said.
I shook my head. “It was right there, but I didn’t even touch it. I left it to come here.”
Seeing my glum expression, Priss bumped into me. “So what? You made the right decision.”
“You think so?”
“Of course. You think running errands for the elder makes you a man?”
“Well … I don’t know.”
“And neither do I,” Priss said. “But I know enough to say that’s not it.”
Her words brought a warm smile to my face, but it didn’t last long. We soon reached Floor
100, where the roots of the upper city began. According to Priss, I could exit the door onto the
lower walkways. After two lefts and another set of stairs, I’d find myself on busier pedestrian
paths.
“Thank you,” I said. I wanted to thank her for more than just directions. But the words got
stuck in my throat. So instead, I stood there mouthing voiceless phrases.
Priss wiggled her crooked nose and twiddled her thumbs. “I … I am sorry about dad,” she
said.
“Why?”
“He has the best intentions, but he isn’t always kind or tender,” Priss said. I couldn’t argue
with that.
A thought came to mind. I should have stopped it there, but forethought isn’t my strong suit.
“What about your mother?” I asked.
The corners of her lips curled inward. Her brow knit together and then released. “I don’t
have one,” Priss said. “She died in childbirth.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. I could guess whose fault it was. Everything tied back to the
upper city. “Maybe she would have survived if she gave birth up here. But down below, we
don’t have the proper tools and medicine. She didn’t have a chance.”
I nodded sadly. “My mother died when I was young. A sickness took her. Father grew quiet
I nodded sadly. “My mother died when I was young. A sickness took her. Father grew quiet
after that.” When it happened, I didn’t blame anyone. Life was precious, and death was
common. But now I wondered what medicine Kingsholm had. Maybe she would still be here if
our people had access to it.
“Do you remember her?” Priss asked.
“A little,” I said. “Just small memories.”
“Like what?”
I shook my head and racked my brain. I hadn’t thought of her in a long time. I couldn’t
remember her face or her voice anymore. She was more an idea than an actual person.
Sometimes I wondered if she ever existed at all. Still, the thought of her comforted me.
“Like the feeling of being held in the summer sun. A laugh. Yellow flowers in her hair. And
a sweet lullaby, whose words I can’t remember.”
Priss stared out the window. All she could see was the empty, blue sky. Somewhere far off,
the buzz of aircraft sounded like a woman’s sigh.
“Those are pleasant memories. I envy you,” she said. “I don’t have anything like that. For as
long as I can remember, dad treated me like an adult. He raised me to live in a cruel, violent
world so I could never fall victim to the Bellows as my mother did.” She laughed sadly.
“Ironically, he won’t even let me lead anything important. It’s like he doesn’t even trust me.”
I followed Priss’s eyes to the window. I saw her bright, blue eyes staring at me in the
reflection of the glass. She smiled, even if briefly.
“If you have no pleasant memories, then you should make some,” I said. “Come to our
village. You can make some new memories with me.”
A brilliant smile beamed across her face. “As your girlfriend?” she said.
“What’s that?”
Blush touched Priss’s cheeks. “Never mind. It’s not important.”
With a shrug, I let myself slip into reverie. I wondered what Priss would say of our village if
she returned home with me. I wondered how father would welcome her with open arms and
fresh-cooked food. No doubt, he would spoil her just as he spoiled us. But after so long, I am
sure father would be happy to see me regardless of who joined me.
While I lost myself in a daydream, Priss reached out hesitantly and took my hand in hers.
Her fingers were small and clammy. Her eyes fell on me with both tenderness and fiery
intensity. Something awakened inside me. A joyful flutter. An excited tremble of my nerves.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” Priss said.
“Of course.”
“It’s more heavily guarded there. If your brother got caught, it’s possible you will too. I
don’t want that to happen.”
“Neither do I.”
“I want to see you again.”
“And I want to see you again.”
Priss squeezed my hand and forced a smile. “Good luck, Dekan.” When her grip loosened, I
thanked her and departed through the door.

The Blossom Tower

Cluttered boxes covered the walls and windows. Their bodies were full of forgotten goods
and shattered contraptions coated in dust. Radiant daylight shone through the crystal windows,
but it scarcely touched the lower walkways with all the mess gathered there. Instead, the hall
was lit with the rosy hue of bright fluorescents.
I remembered Priss’s instructions. Two lefts and then another set of stairs. That would lead
me to busy, pedestrian passages and the main square. Then all I needed to do was look up to find
the Blossom Tower soaring above the rest of the city. Simple.
Not so simple was resisting the urge to explore every corner of every corridor. The
technology of the Bellows was far beyond anything I had seen. But the upper city was a
different world entirely. The walls sang with syncopated melodies. The floors fanned the air
with soft scents of spring flowers. And the ceiling swam in swirling shades of rose and violet.
I took the first left as instructed. The distractions grew. Doors of spotless chrome stood
closed with translucent words floating free in the air. “Restricted,” they read. “Employees only.”
Next to one of the doors was a pad with rubber numbers. I pressed the numbers and delighted in
the cheery tones they produced. After pressing five numbers, the pad made an angry snort.
Above a red light flashed. I laughed to myself and pressed the numbers again.
Beside me, a man appeared. He was dressed in shimmery, purple silks stitched together with
gold thread. “Can I help you?” he said.
“No, I’m fine,” I said.
“What are you doing?” the man asked with crossed arms.
“Pressing these buttons.”

“I ask you politely to stop that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you lost?” he said.
“Oh no. I …well, I’m looking for the Blossom Tower,” I said.
The man chuckled. “You’ve got a ways to go. Take another left. Go to the square. You’ll see
it.”
“Thanks.” Just like that, the man vanished. No sound. No shine. No whoosh of smoke.
Gone. “Sir? Sir?” I said. But he didn’t return.
As far as I knew, the man was a ghost. We had such legends in the Alguin tribe. Troubled
spirits that cannot rest wander the planes of existence until their soul finally finds peace. But I
never believed it. Besides, the man just wanted me to stop pressing his buttons. And he wasn’t
wandering. On the contrary, he gave me instructions. So the apparition must’ve been some trick
of science.
At first, the thought gave me a fluttery sensation of wonder. While we in our village built
plows to tend the fields, the people of Kingsholm were constructing ghosts. But a feeling of
dread and paranoia sank in quick. There was no true person around me. The hall was empty. But
the apparition saw and communicated with me regardless. Were they watching me? I’d never
make it to the Blossom Tower unseen. What else were they capable of?
I took the next left as instructed by Priss and the ghost. Before me was a set of stairs made
of tempered glass. The surface was glossy and lit from underneath by a warm, violet glow. On
the edge of my hearing, I heard the chatter of a crowd and the patter of leisurely steps. For good
measure, I looked back. As far as I could tell, I was alone.

Without further ado, I climbed the glass stairs. My legs ached from the climb Priss and I
suffered together. But what was one more flight?
As I neared the top of the stairs, a wave of noise surged and crashed over me. A great square
expanded before me with people striding past one another in orderly streams. Vendors filled the
spaces between with their fanciful wares. Fatty, fried cheese and sugary, frozen treats. Glass
visors and steel tablets throbbing with light. And toys that swooped through the air like
glittering, chrome swallows. Anything the mind could imagine was there. Anything the mind
couldn’t imagine was also there.
While my mouth dropped open, I stared up at the glass ceiling. Painted ladies of gigantic
proportion danced from wall to wall with pink flowers in their hair. Words flashed and music
played.
Beyond the glass, I saw the outline of several buildings that stabbed into the sky. Around
them flying cars buzzed with red lights flashing. But one building rose above all the others. Its
roof was splayed open like stone petals in bloom. Beacons of light painted the structure in a
pleasant, rosy light. That must have been the Blossom Tower.
Shaking my awe, I proceeded into the square. I followed the flow of the crowd to blend in.
Ironically, my dark, neutral clothing made me stick out from the rest. All the people of
Kingsholm wore flowing shirts and dresses in bright shades of every color. Not to mention, my
complexion must have attracted a few stares from the pale nobles.
Regardless, no one stopped me. I kept my eye on the Blossom Tower and searched for a way
there. I found an avenue there beside two see-through girls showing off their ruffled skirts. But
if no one was going to stop me, there was no harm in looking around a moment longer.
I dipped down a line of stalls selling colored furs and fishnet leggings. The vendors smiled
and invited men and women to buy their clothing. “You would look marvelous in this hat, my
dear. Half price just for you! Try it on at least.” Noticeably, no one offered me a thing. To be
fair, none of it interested me. But at the end of the row, there was something that caught my eye.
Amid all the dancing and dazzling wonders, the most fascinating product was a small, gray
box the size of a strawberry. At first glance, it seemed like nothing. At second glance, it still
seemed like nothing. So I asked the vendor, a bald fellow with sharp cheekbones, what exactly
he was selling.
“Friends,” he said.
I looked at the stack of tiny boxes and then back at the vendor. “This is a friend?”
The man grabbed one of the boxes and pressed a button on its side. Suddenly, a girl appeared
beside me. She had tender, green eyes and soft, pink cheeks.
“Hello, I’m Jane,” she said.
I stared blankly at Jane and at the vendor. He frowned. “Too old for you?” he said. He spun
a little wheel on the box. At once, Jane shrank a few inches, and her cheeks grew plump. “Still
don’t like her? Should I change her hair? Do you want a boy?”
“She’s not real?” I asked. Despite the blunt question, Jane smiled as if she were just happy
to be there.
“Real? What is real?” the man said with a smirk. “Can you touch her? No. But you can talk
to her and spend time with her.”
“But she’s not a person,” I said. Then to Jane, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t get mad at you,” she said. “Not unless you want me to.”
“What is a person?” the vendor said. “Is it merely flesh and bone? Or is it something more?
Intelligence? She has it. Personality? That too. You can even change it if you want.” He wiggled
the box between his fingers.
“That’s cool.” The vendor smiled from ear to ear. “But I don’t need a friend,” I said.
He cocked his head with confusion and clicked a button on the box. Jane disappeared. “No?”
he said. “You are wandering the square alone. I see no parents or friends with you.”
“They’re not here now.”
“Exactly. Your loved ones will not always be there for you. But Jane will.”
“Do people really … need Jane?” I asked. I didn’t know if she could still hear me, but I
didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“Look around you, kid. We pass each other without a word or even a glance. We’ve
convinced ourselves it’s better that way. But we feel the cold all the same. And when the people
awaken to the truth, that’s when they come to me.”
I looked at the salesman and then at Jane. When I said nothing, the man continued with his
sales pitch. “Jane is an attempt to help people maintain empathy. She encourages people to go
out, see the world, and interact with people. Technology is a blessing, my boy, but it has made it
so convenient to stay home and wither in isolation.” He leaned in close. “You have no idea how
popular Jane is. Look around you. Are you sure all these people are actually real?”
I looked around. I didn’t know much of anything, so I shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. But I
don’t have any money.”
The man groaned and dropped his shoulders. “Why didn’t you say that before? Get out of
here, kid.”
“But I —”
“No money. No Jane. Go on!”
I scurried back into the line of shoppers. There were other mysterious goods to investigate.
But I doubt the salesmen wanted some penniless foreigner poking his nose around. So rather
than draw more attention to myself, I decided to head for the Blossom Tower.
I wove my way around the stalls and hurried towards the avenue I spotted before. The see-
through girls I saw earlier were still there. Unlike Jane, they didn’t introduce themselves. The
girls frolicked and danced in looped patterns without even noticing me. I was glad for it. My
mission was to rescue Okwaho. What I needed was stealth. Subtle as a passing breeze, I would
step unseen and unnoticed.
But as soon as I stepped down the path to the tower, I felt a tug on my sleeve. I looked
around but saw nothing. I felt another tug. This time I looked down and saw a small child. He
stared up at me with large, blue eyes.
“Can I help you?” I said.
“You’re not from here, are you, mister?” he said.
“No,” I said in a hushed voice. “But let’s keep that a secret.”
“I like secrets. I’m good at secrets,” the boy said. “I’m Billy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Billy. I’m Dekan.” The boy reached out and shook my hand.
“What’s that in your hair?” Billy said. He pointed at my head.
I reached up and felt something soft tickle my fingers. “Ah this,” I said. Until then, I had
forgotten it was there. “It’s a feather.” I pulled the feather out of the loose knot in my hair. My
hair fell to my shoulders.

“Did you buy it?” I shook my head. “Where did it come from?”
“A hawk.”
Billy’s eyes widened with glee. “Wow, really?” he said.
“Yeah. You’ve never seen a hawk before?” I said.
“No way,” Billy said. His face scrunched into a pout. “Mama says birds live in trees. Trees
are in the forest. Kingsholm isn’t a forest.”
I laughed. “No, it’s not. The forest is where I’m from.”
The boy’s grew even bigger. “Is it green there?”
“Very green,” I said.
“Do you think I can come see?”
I shrugged. “I don’t see why not. You’ve got flying cars, right?”
“Yeah. They fly,” Billy said.
“Great. So tell your mama to fly you to the forest. You can see all sorts of plants and trees
and birds. Maybe you can go for a little walk and see some squirrels.”
He pouted again. “What are squirrels?”
“You don’t know what squirrels are?”
Behind me someone made a curt cough. I turned around to see a woman with painted
eyebrows and a frilly, red collar that rose halfway up her neck.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Would you please leave my child alone? He doesn’t need his head
filled with stupid ideas from some …” Her lips pursed together as she searched for some word to
describe me. But once she found it, she must have determined it was too rude (even for me)
because she let her voice fade in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Bye Billy.”
“Bye Dekan,” he said with a polite wave.
I placed the feather back in my hair and continued down the hall. From there, I found myself
on a seemingly never ending path of covered bridges. The bridges led from building to building
like crystal threads spiraling towards the center of a glass web. I might have enjoyed the walk if
it weren’t so long.
Along the way, I saw babbling fountains crafted of curled steel. I saw spinning chandeliers
with flames like blue lightning. I even saw ceilings that twinkled with the nighttime stars. But
there was no time to stand and marvel.
Hours passed, and the sky darkened. By the time I reached the Blossom Tower, night had
fallen on Kingsholm. Even so, the building stayed alive with the electrified glow of glass lights.
Animated signs pointed this way and that. The Blossom Tower, it appeared, was full of different
organizations. The top floors were residential. That’s where Scarlet lived. But the rest housed a
variety of business and governmental institutions. Sadly, I did not see a sign for the prison.
Of course, I had no experience constructing prisons. But I assumed no person would want to
live near a collection of criminals. So the prison was probably as far from the top of the tower as
possible.
I headed into a stairwell and descended one flight. I listened for a sound. When I heard
nothing, I descended another flight. The slightest chatter caught my ear, but it was still below
me. After a third flight, I saw a man beside a door. He was talking to himself. A gun hung from
his hip. No doubt, he was guarding the prison.
Now came the hard part. I had to figure out how to get in and out unseen. Actually it was
Now came the hard part. I had to figure out how to get in and out unseen. Actually it was
harder than that. As I spied on the guard, I noticed a numbered pad by the door. I needed a code
to get in. There was no way to get the code for myself. Only the guard knew. If I wanted in, I
had to be clever.
Rubbing my eyes, I walked towards the guard. A long, fake frown dragged down my lips.
“Mister,” I said with a sniffle. “I … lost my brother.”
“Boy, you shouldn’t be here,” the guard said.
“But I can’t find him,” I said. “I think he got in trouble, and I … I … don’t know what to
do.”
“What kind of trouble?” the man said with a sigh.
“I don’t know. They said it was bad, and they took him here. They said I wouldn’t see him
again. But I don’t know what happened, and I don’t have anyone else. It’s just him. If I’m alone,
I —”
The guard groaned. “What do you want me to do?” he said. “You want me to call someone?”
“Can you just show me if he’s in there? I just want to look. I just need to know.”
The man held up his hands. “Look. It’s dangerous in there. There are some bad people in
there. I can’t let you go in there alone.”
“So you’ll go with me?” I asked.
“No. That’s not what I’m saying,” he said.
My lip trembled, and my eyes scrunched together as if about to drip with tears. “So I’m all
alone, and I could be all alone for the rest of my life. But you won’t even let me see what’s
happened to my brother.”
“Hold on. Hold on. You don’t need to cry,” the man said. He sighed and bit his lip. “Okay.
“Hold on. Hold on. You don’t need to cry,” the man said. He sighed and bit his lip. “Okay.
But we have to be quick. Just a look around. It’s a small prison. It’ll be real quick.” He turned
around and punched a few digits into the keypad. After entering the code, the door unlocked
with a pleasant beep. “If you find him, he can give you some advice. He’ll tell you what to do.
Does that sound good?”
“Yeah, it does,” I said. “Hey, I’m real sorry about this.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said. But I wasn’t talking about looking around. I grabbed the gun
from his hip and whacked him over the head with all my might. The blow staggered the man,
and he fell to the ground. I’m not sure if it actually knocked him out. I sure hoped so.
Regardless, there was no time to check.
I ran into the prison. There were only eleven cells, which was a comfort. If Okwaho were
there, I would know within a matter of seconds. But in fact, it was even quicker than that.
Only one light was on in the entire prison. It was a red light at the far end of the room. And
there, chained to the wall and dressed in rags, was Okwaho. “Brother!” I said. There was no
door to his cell. I bolted towards him without stopping to think why. All around me, prisoners
called and shouted. But I ignored them.
Brother lifted his head slowly. The red light shone weakly in his eyes. “Dekanawida?” he
said.
“Yes, I’m here,” I said. “I’m going to get you out.” Once I reached Brother Wolf, I tugged at
his restraints. But the steel chains wouldn’t budge.
While I struggled to free him, Okwaho woke from a daze. He looked at me with a crazed
look in his eye. “What are you doing here?” he said.
“What does it look like? I’m saving you,” I said. “I just need to figure out how to get these
“What does it look like? I’m saving you,” I said. “I just need to figure out how to get these
chains off of you. Then we can go.”
“No! Get out!” he said. “You need to leave.” But it was too late.
Above us the red light flashed. A thick, glass door slid out of the walls, sealing me in with
my brother. “Oh … that’s not good,” I said.
Okwaho sighed and dropped his head. “No, it’s not.”

The Theft Queen

Although are fates were sealed, I tugged on Okwaho’s chains regardless. Maybe, just maybe
if I got him free, we would have a chance to fight off the men coming for us. And surely they
were coming for us. But the chains were bound tight to the wall. Not even with double my
strength could I tear them free.
“What are you doing?” Okwaho said in a deflated voice.
“I’m trying to free you,” I said.
“I see that,” he said. “But why are you trying? You need a key.”
“I don’t have a key.”
“I know! That’s my point,” he said. He shook his head and laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“I like the clothes. You must have met the rebels too.” I nodded. “How did you even know
where I went? You had a trial to complete.”
I sat against the wall and stared up at the flashing, red light. “Remember? You said maybe
I’d see you hunting while I was up there on the mountain. Well, I did. And I saw them take
you.” Okwaho shifted his stance. His restraints clanged sadly. “So I left the Wise One’s Tear
behind and came for you.”
Brother snorted with amusement. “You ran after an aircraft? Did you really think you could
catch up?”
With a pout, I punched his leg playfully. But the chains had worn his skin raw, and he
winced in pain. “Sorry,” I said. “And no. I didn’t think I could catch up, but I couldn’t leave
you. The rebels found me by the wreckage of the aircraft you were taken in. Then, Priss showed
me around the city.”

“Priss?”
“Oh, I guess you didn’t meet her. She’s William Lundergan’s daughter. She’s … nice,” I said
with a goofy smile. “They wanted me to wait for you, and I trusted them. But then they told me
why you came up here.”
“So you came after me?”
“A lot of time had passed. We didn’t hear anything from you. I had a feeling something bad
had happened. So Priss showed me how to get to the upper city. She told me there was a prison
here in the Blossom Tower. And now I’m here.”
“How did you get in here?” Brother Wolf asked.
“I tricked the guard and then hit him over the head with his gun.”
“Where’s the gun now?”
“Oh …” I dropped it at the entrance to the prison. Knocking the guard out was enough
violence as is. I didn’t want to hurt, let alone kill anyone. So I threw the gun away in the hopes I
never had to use it again.
The chains tinged as Okwaho pulled against them. His stern expression showed in the
blinking, red light. “You didn’t think it through. Did you?” he said. “You rushed in here with no
plan, and now you’re trapped in here with me.”
“I didn’t think it through?” I repeated. “What about you?”
“I had a plan. Even if I didn’t succeed, I knew what I was doing,” he said.
“But you didn’t think it through. You didn’t think what could go wrong. You didn’t think
about other options.”
“Yes, I did. You just don’t like the decision I made.”

“That’s for sure.”
Okwaho fell silent. It was a tense silence that filled the cell quick. But, to my surprise,
Okwaho ended the quiet with a short chuckle. “When did you get so bold, brother?” he said.
“First you come rescue me, and now you argue with me too. What happened to my sheepish
little brother?”
“He’s still here,” I said.
“If you say so.”
The prison door opened, and two guards stomped towards us. One of them was the man I
had hit over the head. Neither said a word.
I stood up and held up my hands in a show of submission. The guard I met earlier scowled at
me. His head had a swollen bump. “I can tell you’re upset. I said it before, and I’ll say it again. I
am real sorry,” I said to the guard. “But on the bright side, I found him. See! It’s my brother. So
now we can all go home, right?”
The guards stopped in front of our cell. “Which cell should we throw him in?” the injured
guard said.
“None. She wants him brought up to her to talk,” the other said.
“You’re kidding me,” the first guard said with a grumble.
“Sadly no.”
“Are you sure she doesn’t want the older one?”
He shook his head. “No. The young one didn’t try to kill her. She doesn’t feel threatened by
him.”
“Maybe she should,” the guard said, rubbing his head.

“I told you to get that checked out. I can handle the boy. Get out of here.” Then to no one in
particular the man shouted, “Open it up!”
The glass door slid open, and the guard grabbed me by the arm. He tossed me forward with
ease and placed the barrel of his gun against my back. As we passed the other guard, I
apologized for a third time. The apology didn’t soften his mood or the bump on his head. When
I was at the prison door, I heard him mutter, “I hate this job.”
With the prison behind us, the guard led me up the stairs and down the hall. Passersby
watched us with a suspicious gaze. I waved innocently and followed my captor obediently.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Lady Scarlet Wright has asked me to bring you to her. She wants to ask a few questions,”
the guard said.
“About what?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, I don’t think I will be of much help.”
The guard sighed. “I don’t think so either,” he said. “But orders are orders.”
We entered a small room with spotless, white walls. Beside the door was a panel of glowing
buttons. The guard pressed the top button. A second panel opened up beside the first. I pretended
not to look as the guard entered a five digit code: 3-1-4-5-7. The door shut behind us, and the
room lurched. We were moving higher. This must have been one of those elevators the rebels
talked to me about.
“What’s she like?” I asked the guard.
“Who? Lady Wright?”

“Yeah, Scarlet.”
“We’re not exactly friends. I just work for her,” the guard said.
“She doesn’t have any friends?” I asked. The man shrugged. “You know, I met this guy who
was selling friends. She can buy a friend if she needs one.”
The guard chuckled to himself. “I don’t think she is interested in one of those,” he said. “She
has other interests.”
“Like what?”
“More important ones.” Now I shrugged. I didn’t know what the man was talking about.
Family, friends, love. That’s what life was all about. What could be more important than that?
Just above the door was a red panel with a number on it. As the elevator climbed higher, so
too did the number. 110. 115. 120. How tall is the Blossom Tower? I wondered.
A funny thought entered the guard’s head, and he started to smirk. “You know,” he said,
“Now that I think about it, you’ve got one thing in common.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You’ve got guts. You know how she came to power?” the guard said. I shook my
head. “Well, this is just what I’ve heard. But Scarlet’s parents were influential people. Their
wealth and power were growing quick. The other council members didn’t like that. So,
supposedly, they had the two killed.
“Scarlet was a kid like you when her parents died. No one expected anything of her. So she
put on an act like you did to my friend. She let all the other council members think she was a
sad, naive kid. They felt bad for her. They showed her how things worked in Kingsholm, and
made her feel part of the family so to speak. All the while, Scarlet gathered all the information
made her feel part of the family so to speak. All the while, Scarlet gathered all the information
she could. She learned their dirty secrets and their weaknesses.
“When the time was right, she turned their corruption against them. She declared war on the
other families. She threatened to tear them down to the Bellows if they didn’t fall in line. Her. A
little girl. Can you believe it?”
“That doesn’t sound like me at all,” I said.
“No? You came all the way up here to save your brother. You stole my friend’s gun, bashed
him over the head with it, and broke into a prison just to achieve your end.”
I blushed. “I didn’t want to hurt him.”
“But you did anyway,” the guard said. “It’s not easy to stand up to people older and more
powerful than you. You gotta respect it.”
“So I’m not in trouble?” I said. At once, the man burst into laughter. I looked at him with the
most innocent expression I could muster. But he only laughed even harder.
The elevator slowed to a stop. Once at a standstill, the door opened with a shrill beep. The
guard stifled his laughter and pushed me forward into an open chamber. The room was girded on
all sides by angled windows tinted pink. Fixed into the ceiling was a brilliant orb with crystal
tendrils that swayed to an unheard rhythm. The installation resembled a pulsing star, and it
bathed the room in sensual hues.
While I gawked at the interior, the guard pushed me forward again. Seated at the end of the
room was a girl in a sleek, red dress. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and her plump, painted lips
curled into a smirk. She was taller than me and older too, but not by much.
“Lady Wright, I brought him to you as requested,” the guard said.
“He’s not armed?” the girl asked in a smooth, sultry tone.

“No.”
“Good. You can leave us then,” she said. “He doesn’t look too threatening. Nothing I can’t
handle.” The girl met my eyes and winked. Not knowing why, my face burned red.
As the guard left, I shuffled forward meekly. “Hi, I’m Dekanawida.”
“My name is Scarlet. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “To be honest, I expected
someone a bit older.”
“I can say the same thing,” I said. Scarlet covered her mouth and giggled politely. I didn’t
think it was funny, but her laughter was a melody to the ears. Again my cheeks blushed.
“Fair. But I meant only that you are a most unexpected guest. When I heard someone had
broken into our prison, I did not expect a boy from some forest tribe.” She crossed her legs and
studied me with an intense stare. “Your brother’s visit was also quite unexpected. But you do not
wish to harm me, do you?”
“No,” I said.
“What a good, little boy,” Scarlet said. “Smart too. I have faced men far worse than you.
And you are but a foreigner. You don’t know what we are capable of. You don’t know what I am
capable of.”
“I just want to take my brother and go home. I don’t want any trouble,” I said.
“And yet trouble has found you regardless,” Scarlet said. Although sweet to hear, her words
were menacing. I didn’t let that slip past me. “Come. Sit. I have some questions for you.”
With careful steps, I sat in a cushioned, white chair next to Scarlet. Once I sat down, she
stood up. She strode around me like a predator encircling her prey. As she did, her finger gently
stroked the back of my chair.

“How is it you got to the upper city?” Scarlet asked.
“Stairs,” I said.
“And how did you find these stairs? How did you know to come here? You had help, didn’t
you?” I didn’t answer. Her fingers touched my shoulder. They were gentle and encouraging.
“Oh, don’t be so shy. You are a handsome boy. But it is much more enjoyable to talk with you
than to simply stare at your pretty face.”
She stopped in front of me and smiled. Something about Scarlet evoked a heart-pounding
sensation inside of me. It was shallower but no less powerful than what I felt with Priss.
“You are honorable enough to protect those that helped you. I respect that,” Scarlet said.
“But I can already guess it was the rebels. Them or the Red Wings, but you don’t seem like the
type to associate with them. I’ve kept a watchful eye over Lundergan for some time. I know he
wishes me gone, but he lacks the gall to do it himself. Is that why he sent you and your brother
up here?”
“I just came for my brother,” I said.
“And what about your brother?”
“Okwaho just wants to protect our people. He heard about the palladium and your plans for
our village,” I said. Perhaps I was saying too much. But the words came so freely in her
presence. My eyes were locked on hers, and my head was empty. “Brother doesn’t always
think.”
Scarlet dragged a chair in front of me. Its metallic legs screeched against the slick, marble
floor. As she sat down, Scarlet smoothed out her dress so no wrinkles disturbed the elegance of
her form. Likewise, she stroked her long, black hair so it stayed in perfect order. I squirmed in
her form. Likewise, she stroked her long, black hair so it stayed in perfect order. I squirmed in
my own chair, feeling unkempt and out of place.
“Action is the true measure of a man. And you have already shown more forethought than
your brother. Respectable people like you are always in demand. Why not work with us?”
“To invade my own village?” I said.
“To ease the transition,” she said. “No bloodshed. No conflict. Just an easy slide into the
new way of things.”
More than anything I wanted peace, but I wasn’t in a position to make decisions on behalf of
my tribe. “I just want to get Okwaho and go home.”
Scarlet tilted back her head and loosed an overly dramatic groan. “Yes, you said that, kid.
But you wouldn’t even consider it? You would help your people, and you would help me. I
promise I’d give you something special in return.” She licked her lips as her piercing gaze
passed up and down my body.
“The elder will decide what to do. Brother and I will tell him what we know, and he will
decide what’s best.”
Once more Scarlet groaned. “Very well. That’s honorable of you. It’s quite refreshing
really,” she said. She waved her hand as if to dismiss her previous offer in favor of a new one. “I
am inclined to let you and your brother go. But I must be clear. There is no reality in which we
do not come for the palladium.”
I sat up in my chair. “Wait. I can’t consider your offer because I am just a boy. And well,
you’re just a girl. But you’re in charge. You won’t even think about leaving my people alone?”
She shook her head. “Dekanawida, was it?” I nodded. “You are a nice boy. No doubt, I
should thank your parents for instilling you with such wonderful morals. But there is something
should thank your parents for instilling you with such wonderful morals. But there is something
greater than morals, and it is power. Whether it is right or wrong, I will invade your village
because I can invade your village.”
“But why?”
“Because when you have power, you need to do everything you can to maintain that power.”
She sighed. “As I said, you are a nice boy. But one day, perhaps sometime soon, you will be a
man. And a smart man knows when to roll over. There is no hope for your village. I will let you
return to your tribe. Tell the others what you know. If you are smart, you will relocate or else
prepare for occupation.”
Of all people, I was the last person to deal with such serious matters. Just a few days ago my
greatest worry was climbing a mountain. Now I was sitting in a room with a girl about to declare
war on my people. Hiawatha should have been there. Not me. He was a leader. I was a kid.
“You don’t need to do this,” I said. It was the best argument I could think of.
“On the contrary,” Scarlet said. “I need to continue the prosperity of Kingsholm. The only
way to do that is to grow and expand. For that I need your palladium.”
“Find it somewhere else.”
“Easier said than done,” Scarlet said. She stood and dragged her chair back to its place. The
conversation was over. There was no convincing her. “I don’t want to take your land by force.
But I will because I need to.”
I stood from my chair. My head hung low. Scarlet approached from behind me. She placed
her hands on my shoulders and spoke in my ear. “You cannot hope to oppose us. I will give you
one week before the invasion begins. I control the council, so I will make sure it is so.”
Her hand slid down my arm as she pulled away. A pleasant smile shone between her rosy
Her hand slid down my arm as she pulled away. A pleasant smile shone between her rosy
cheeks. Just by looking at her, you’d think she gave me the best news possible. But considering
Scarlet could have had Okwaho and me killed, I guess it wasn’t the worst news either.
“Return to the prison. I will have them release your brother. Then you two can be on your
way,” Scarlet said. She walked to the windows and gazed at her city. It was brilliant and buzzing
even at night.
“Thank you,” I said.
As I approached the elevator door, Scarlet made a curt cough. I stopped and looked back at
her. The pink lights cast her stunning figure in a gentle shade, but her shadow stretched far and
wide.
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Scarlet said. She watched me out of their corner of her eye.
“I do hope we see each other again.” Despite her intentions, I must admit the feeling was
mutual.
Time to Strike
When I returned to the prison, a new guard stood outside the door. He recognized me at once
and greeted me with a curt bow. “You must be Dekanawida,” he said.
“Yes, I am. I came to collect my brother.”
The man nodded to confirm he already knew. “Lady Scarlet called me a few moments ago. I
will make sure your brother is released with all of his belongings intact. However, I was told to
inform you that you both must find your own way to the Bellows.”
“That’s fine,” I said. The way down would be a lot easier than the way up. “Hey, what
happened to the man who was here before?”
“Richard? The one you hit over the head?” he said as a matter of fact. I nodded. “He
received a concussion and so was placed on medical leave. After he recovers, Richard will be
transferred to an administrative position, where he is no longer at risk of injury.”
“Oh.” I didn’t understand most of what the guard had said. But I did understand Richard lost
his job and was seriously injured because of me.
The guard patted me on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Richard has been
complaining about this job for ages. You did him a favor.”
I grumbled. Even if the result was positive, it didn’t ease the shame of violence. Father had
taught me never to raise my hand or even my voice against my elders. And when it came to
violence, the ends never justified the means. Still, I was happy no one held the incident against
me.
The guard punched in the code to the prison and guided me to Okwaho’s cell. Brother was
still restrained to the wall. His wrists had rubbed raw against the chains, and his eyes had sunken
still restrained to the wall. His wrists had rubbed raw against the chains, and his eyes had sunken
in. As the guard approached, he looked up with a hateful glare. I could almost hear the cracking
sparks of the fire in his eyes.
“You’re in luck,” the guard said. “I don’t know what your brother said to her, but Lady
Scarlet has decided to let you go.”
“How lucky,” he said with heavy sarcasm.
“We can go home,” I said. “There is a lot we need to discuss with the tribe.”
The guard released Okwaho from his bonds. At once, he fell to his knees with a groan. I
placed my arm around brother to lift him, but he shrugged off my grip.
“I can stand on my own,” he said. His tone was dark and irritated. Okwaho never spoke to
me like that, but I didn’t blame him. He only wanted to hide his weakness. To do so, he lashed
out like a beast with its foot in a trap. But Brother Wolf was free. His strength would return, and
so too would his manners.
While Okwaho struggled to his feet, the guard offered me Okwaho’s belongings. I thanked
him. “For obvious reasons, we cannot return the weapon. But everything else is there,” he said. I
looked at the bundle placed in my hands. It was just a bunch of ratty clothing. Even my tattered
trousers looked luxurious in comparison to the hideous patchwork of fabric the rebels had given
him. It was as if they wanted him to get caught. Even a blind man could spot his worn attire
among the nobles’ fanciful silks.
Once brother had dressed, we headed on our way. Outside, the night had thickened to pitch.
But Kingsholm remained alight with flashing lamps and fluorescent scenes. The marketplace
had transformed into a site of drunken festivities. Music pounded to churning beats, and the
people danced without care or worry.

I would have liked to join them, but it was clear we were not welcome. As Okwaho and I
passed, the crowd parted, and the people murmured. I can’t tell which offended them more. Our
dark skin or our torn clothes?
It didn’t matter. I could never enjoy myself with the weight of bad news on my shoulders.
Besides, we had been away too long. Father had not heard from us for several days. As mild-
mannered as he was, I’m sure his worry was immeasurable. He had already lost mother. How
would he feel if he lost his sons too?
Silent and bitter, Okwaho marched ahead. His eyes were glued to the ground, and his mouth
was sealed shut. But a growing wrinkle separated his brow. I’m sure he could feel the upper
city’s attention on him, and he resented them for it. The sooner we returned below, the better.
After a considerable trek through town, we returned to the staircase. Once the door shut
behind us, Okwaho sighed from deep in his chest. “I can’t stand it up there,” he said.
“I think it looks pretty cool,” I said.
“I don’t care about looks. They’re oppressors and villains,” he said. “You saw the way they
looked at us.”
“You prefer it in the Bellows?”
“At least they know who they are. All these people up here living in their glass towers. They
don’t know a thing about reality or what their way of life does to others. And they don’t care.”
There was acid in his words and red in his cheeks. “What did Scarlet say to you anyway?”
Okwaho was already worked up. I didn’t want to add fuel to his raging fire. But I had to tell
him sooner or later. “In one week, Kingsholm will invade our village. She wanted me to join her
to help our people during the transition. But I refused. I tried to convince her to leave us alone.
to help our people during the transition. But I refused. I tried to convince her to leave us alone.
But I failed.”
“It’s not your fault,” Brother Wolf said. He patted me on the shoulder and nodded to himself.
“One week is a blessing. I expected worse.”
“She isn’t evil,” I said. Okwaho stopped and looked at me with a low and level stare.
“What? It’s true. She gave us time to discuss the invasion with our tribe. She gave us time to
relocate or prepare.”
“Can she be reasoned with?” Okwaho asked. After a moment’s hesitation, I shook my head.
“Exactly. She has power, so she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. Do you see now why I
did what I did?”
We continued down the stairs. Outside, the fluorescent night succumbed to the choking
smog. But the Bellows was still a long way down.
“The rebels used you,” I said. “You did exactly what they wanted you to do.”
“I know,” Okwaho said. “I don’t trust them, but I would’ve done it anyway.”
“Why?”
Again Okwaho stopped. He was a step above me. He looked down on me with dark
conviction in his eyes. “You are an adult now. Do you know what that means?” I didn’t, but I
was sure he would tell me. “It means sacrifice. The measure of a man is not what he is but what
he does for the people he loves.”
Having imparted his wisdom, Okwaho strode ahead with his head held high. William,
Scarlet, Okwaho. They were all doing what they thought was best for their people and their
ways of life. And where did that leave us? At war. Maybe the secret of adulthood is that no one
knows what they’re doing.

“It was still a stupid idea,” I said to brother.
“Just think if it had worked,” he said. He shook out his long, black hair and smirked at his
own recklessness. “There was a chance, and if I did nothing, we would be in the same position
we’re in now.”
“No. We would have more time to evacuate the city.”
“More time to prepare defenses,” Okwaho corrected.
“You want to fight them?” I said. “We don’t stand a chance.”
He shrugged. “But we will fight them regardless. We know when they are coming. That is
our advantage.”
It wasn’t much. The only real hope we had was with the rebels. But they had their own
priorities. I doubted William would give it all up just to save a little village he had never visited
before.
Unlike above, the people of the Bellows paid us no mind. In our ratty clothes and smog-
tainted masks, we blended in perfectly. But it was not our outfits that made us so invisible. It
was simply the city’s culture. Suffering was pervasive, and each person had their own list of
troubles. So they kept their heads down to avoid attracting anything worse.
No attention was better than bad attention. Even so, it didn’t have to be that way. Our tribe
was a family. We helped each other and conquered our struggles together. Here, the people were
fractured and alone. I could see it clearer now. The Bellows was a well of sadness. Strangely, the
expression on Okwaho’s face was one of comfort.
We returned to the rebels’ hideout sometime before dawn. Both of us were exhausted. We
wanted to find a bed to collapse in. But of course, we did not get that luxury. As soon as he
wanted to find a bed to collapse in. But of course, we did not get that luxury. As soon as he
learned of our return, William wanted a meeting. Sleep had to wait.
A dull ache throbbed in my feet as I dragged them towards William’s office. A short talk and
then you can rest, I told myself. I hoped it would be short. I didn’t have the strength to argue. It
was hard enough keeping my eyes open. My gaze was already at my feet, and my eyelids were
half-closed.
“Brother,” Okwaho said. He motioned at someone in front of me, but I didn’t see her until
she was already on top of me.
Priss leapt into my arms with such excitement that I fell onto my back. As I hugged her, I
looked up at Okwaho. He had a wry grin on his face.
“Uh … Priss,” I said.
“I’m sorry. I’m just happy to see you’re safe,” she said. After getting off the floor, I dusted
myself off and introduced Priss to my brother.
“Nice to meet you,” Okwaho said.
“You too,” Priss said. “I’ll admit I’m a little surprised to see you both in one piece.”
I tapped the stone talisman around my neck. “I told you it would protect me. There was
nothing to worry about.” Okwaho rolled his eyes. He was probably just jealous. Father never
gave him a talisman.
“Well, dad would like to hear all about your journey. Come on,” Priss said. She led us to her
father’s office. There William waited for us under heavy, gold lights.
As cramped as the office had seemed before, the suffocating sensation had only worsened.
The stacks of paper had grown so high they consumed the entire desk. They stood like a wall
between us and the rebel leader. But William sat content in his chair with his arms crossed over
between us and the rebel leader. But William sat content in his chair with his arms crossed over
his chest. Light shone filthy yellow on his satisfied smile.
“Welcome back to the Bellows,” he said. “I am certain you have some exciting news to
share.”
“Exciting is not the word I would use,” brother said.
“Regardless, I would like to hear it all,” William said. “Okwaho, we will start with you. I am
aware you were unsuccessful in killing Scarlet. I did warn you it was a dangerous venture.”
How insulting, I thought. William was the one that put the idea in Okwaho’s head. He had
used my brother to do his dirty work. Yet, here he was patronizing Okwaho as if it were all his
fault. Even Priss raised her eyebrow in disbelief.
Either brother was too tired to argue or he knew the game William was playing. So he
merely smiled. “And you were right,” he said in a polite tone. “But caution never leads to the
radical change we desire.”
William nodded. “True.”
“I managed to get to the Blossom Tower,” Okwaho said. “I could not get to Scarlet’s
penthouse myself, so I watched and waited until she left. What I didn’t know is they were
watching me too. As soon as I raised the gun, they grabbed me and threw me in prison.”
“A shame,” William said. “Did they ask you any questions?”
“Of course. They suspected you had sent me. That or some gang. But I didn’t tell them
anything, so they just kept me in the prison,” Okwaho said.
William turned his attention to me. It was my turn to speak. I cleared my throat. “Well, you
said you’d know if he were in prison, but I didn’t trust you,” I said with a shrug. “So I found the
prison in the Blossom Tower. I convinced the guard to open it for me and then hit him over the
prison in the Blossom Tower. I convinced the guard to open it for me and then hit him over the
head with his own gun.”
The rebel leader chuckled with pleasant surprise. Priss smirked with pride. No doubt she
would’ve done something similar.
“What then?” William asked.
“There weren’t a lot of people in there, so I found Okwaho quick,” I said. “He was chained
to the wall, and the cell door was already open. So I tried to free him. But I guess it was a trap
because the door closed behind me. Eventually some guard came and took me to Scarlet. She
wanted to talk.”
“About what?” Priss asked.
“She wanted me to join her and help our tribe transition into the new order of things.”
“She wanted to use you,” William said.
“Of course she did,” I said. “And I tried to convince her to leave our village alone. But we
both refused to help each other. She gave us one week to evacuate the village or prepare for
occupation.”
William leaned forward in his chair. I could only see his pale eyes from behind the paper
stacks. “They will invade in one week?” I nodded. “One week exactly?” I nodded again. He
took a sheet of paper and scribbled furiously on it.
Brother Wolf and I exchanged a glance. Priss looked down at her hands and frowned. “We
could use help,” I said. “We aren’t fighters. We don’t have the technology to defend ourselves.”
Although he nodded to acknowledge my words, William said nothing in reply. We waited as
he mulled over his thoughts and jotted down notes. Eventually it was Priss that spoke. “Dad!”
she shouted.
“Yes, I heard him,” William said.
“You’re not going to help us, are you?” Okwaho said. There were many emotions mixed into
his words. Surprise was not one of them.
William sighed. “They will send soldiers to your village. That means there will be fewer
soldiers in the upper city,” he said. “I will not sacrifice an opportunity to land a lethal blow on
the upper elite.”
“Even if it means sacrificing their tribe?” Priss said. I could hear the hurt and confusion in
her voice.
Mr. Lundergan stood up with a groan. His glasses slumped low on his crooked nose. “I like
you both. I do,” he said. “But I cannot act on emotion. Emotion is what brought this inequality
upon us. Love for ourselves and fear of others led to conflict, discrimination, and segregation.
But we are all equal, and I cannot throw away the possibility to give these people what they
deserve.”
Okwaho tugged on my arm. “Come on,” he said. But I resisted.
“And what about our people?” I said. “Are we not also equal? Are we not worth saving? We
are not your people, but we are still people.”
William threw up his hands as if the decision were not entirely in his control. “I am sorry,
but I cannot help. There is work to be done.” He took off his glasses and rubbed them clean
against his shirt. While he did so, he looked at Okwaho and me. But his gaze was distant. He
wasn’t looking at us at all. He was looking past us. “We must solidify control over the Red
Wings before we prepare for our assault on the upper city. After we framed the Red Wings for
downing that aircraft, the upper city destroyed one of their production facilities. And while you
downing that aircraft, the upper city destroyed one of their production facilities. And while you
two were gone, we struck another. The gang is starting to crumble, from out and within.”
“Dad,” Priss said. She tensed her fists and stamped her foot. “They are good people. As
good as you or me. You can’t just let them die.”
“You would help them?” he said to his daughter. “Do I need to remind you that you already
promised to lead the mission against the Red Wings? You begged me for an opportunity to prove
yourself. Now you’re backing out?”
“No,” Priss said. Her fists unclenched. “I just don’t think it’s right to abandon them.”
William sat on his desk. The papers wrinkled and fell, but he didn’t so much as turn his
head. “The harsh truth of reality is we cannot please everyone. We could help their village,
daughter. But in so doing we would abandon our own cause. Our army cannot be in two places
at once.” He looked down and nodded sadly. “I hate to say it, but I hoped for this outcome.”
“You used us,” I said, hurt but not shocked. “Both of us.”
“Invasion was always inevitable,” he said, “But I hoped you would aggravate her into
action.”
“What are you talking about?” Priss said. Her voice shook with fragility. A wave of hair fell
over her eyes, which caught only the slightest glint of gold.
William groaned, disappointed that his daughter could not see what he did. “The Red Wings
are in disarray. The gang is sure to die, if not by our hand, then by their own. When that
happens, there will be a void. They will need direction, and we can give it to them. Do you
understand? We can forge a bond in battle by fighting a common enemy. Instead of destroying
the Red Wings, we can unite them to our cause. Only united can the Bellows take Kingsholm.
When the gang is scattered and the upper city is vulnerable. That is our time to strike.”
A united city sounded like massive progress for the Bellows. I would be happy for the
rebels. But I couldn’t be, not when it came at the cost of my people.
Lone Wolf
Sleep came in short bouts terrorized by frightful dreams. I can’t remember what I dreamed
about. But each time I woke with a pounding in my chest and the taste of blood on my tongue.
Someone more superstitious would have considered these dreams a warning. Bad days were yet
to come. But I was too tired to consider it seriously, and too weak to do anything about it.
At the very least, I would be happy to see father and Adsila again. But I sensed it would not
be the joyful reunion I had hoped for. Okwaho and I brought dark news with us. Life would
change for our village. There probably wouldn’t be time to play games with Adsila or follow
father in the field. We had to prepare to run or to fight.
The rebels were making similar preparations. The whole compound was abuzz with military
trainings, cleaning and organization of equipment, and heated discussions over city maps.
Okwaho studied their movements with a watchful eye and listened to their arguments with a
close ear. But it was all beyond my interest and understanding.
Somewhere among the chaos, Priss was hard at work. She had a central role in conquering
the Red Wings and bringing them to the rebels’ side. It was the role of responsibility she had
wished for. But I worried what danger she would get herself into. The last time we met the Red
Wings, they wanted to kill us. I doubt the gang would be more peaceful now that their existence
was on the line. Priss didn’t need any more lectures, but I wanted to wish her goodbye.
It turns out Priss had her own office. Unlike her father’s room, the space was open and lit
with soft, white lights. Chairs and tables were arranged in orderly lines. Shelves were dusted and
clean. It was a calming space that contrasted the dirt and disorder outside. The only thing out of
order was Priss herself. Her straw hair was in a tizzy, and her cornflower eyes were bloodshot.
order was Priss herself. Her straw hair was in a tizzy, and her cornflower eyes were bloodshot.
She barely noticed me enter the office.
“Dekan,” she said in surprise. “I was hoping I’d see you before you left. I wanted to
apologize.”
I dismissed the idea with a wave of my hand. “Don’t. You spoke up for us. You didn’t have
to do that,” I said.
“I didn’t do it for you. I just thought it was right,” she said. “But dad didn’t think so.”
“I know. It’s not your fault,” I said.
Priss stood in front of me. Her hands hung useless by her side. “I wish there was something I
could do to help you. But I can’t. It’s going to be dangerous. I’m worried about you.”
She was right, but I laughed anyway. “You’re worried about me, and I’m worried about
you,” I said.
“Me?” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
Perhaps she was right. She knew the Red Wings better than I did. She knew the mission
better than I did. After all, she was the one directing it. But I worried nonetheless.
“They won’t want to see their Radiance or their power taken away,” I said.
“It is what needs to be done for the betterment of society,” Priss said.
“Maybe. But they are like cornered animals,” I said. “It doesn’t matter if you’re doing
what’s best for them. They will lash out regardless because they are scared and desperate.” I
sighed. “At least animals don’t have guns.”
The thought made Priss giggle. “I appreciate your concern,” she said. But concern wasn’t
enough. Concern couldn’t protect people from bullets.
I took the talisman from around my neck. The polished stone tickled my fingers as I stroked
I took the talisman from around my neck. The polished stone tickled my fingers as I stroked
the spiral symbol. “Here,” I said, giving the necklace to Priss. “It will keep you safe as it has
kept me safe.”
A wrinkle separated Priss’s brow while her lips shifted between a frown and a smile. “Oh,
Dekan. I don’t know if it’s right for me to take this,” she said. Despite her objections, Priss
stretched out her hands to accept the necklace.
“I want you to have it,” I said. She placed the talisman around her neck. But her expression
remained conflicted. “It looks good on you.” She smiled, but only for a brief second.
“Thank you,” Priss said. She gazed at the spiral and frowned. “But I think you’ll need this
more than me. You can’t beat the upper city with bows and arrows.”
“And perhaps we won’t have to,” I said. “Maybe we will find a new home. Maybe we will
surrender. I won’t know until we talk to the elder and the rest of our village.”
Priss grabbed my hands and squeezed them in a firm grip. “And what if you decide to
fight?”
I smiled sadly. “I will see you again, Priss. Don’t worry.” It was a poor excuse and a poor
way to say goodbye. Still, I must have said something right. Priss pulled me into a warm
embrace and kissed me on the lips. It was my first kiss, but I could see why adults did it. By the
time Priss pulled away, my heart was beating with an erratic flutter, and my thoughts were mush.
“I wanted to thank you, Dekan.” She clutched her hands over her chest, embarrassed by the
kiss and the words that flowed from her soft lips.
“Thank me for what?” I said, still dazed by the kiss.
“For spending time with me this past week,” she said. Tears glistened in her eyes. But I
couldn’t tell if they came from joy or sadness. Maybe it was a mixture of both. “I haven’t had
couldn’t tell if they came from joy or sadness. Maybe it was a mixture of both. “I haven’t had
this much fun since … well, I can’t remember.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“And mine too. For once in my life, I felt like I could act my age. Life in the Bellows is so
serious. Life with my father is so stressful. I feel …” She laughed nervously and looked away. “I
feel like my childhood was taken from me. But with you, I got a taste of what my life should
have been.”
Not knowing what to say, I simply stared at Priss. I did not want to leave her. I wished to
give her that joy and whimsy every day. But to save my people, I had to let go and leave her
behind.
Priss sensed as much. She dismissed her silly thoughts with a wave of her hand. “Go on,”
she said. “Save your people. I know you’ll make the right decision.”
“But it’s not my decision,” I said. “I’m just a boy.”
Priss shook her head. “No. You’re a good man, and you will do what you think is best no
matter what some bloated, old elder says.”
I walked from Priss’s office with a cheery skip in my step. The monotonous purr of the
fluorescents sounded like joyous music, and the stale, recycled air smelled of sweet flowers.
Who knew a kiss could do so much? I almost forgot where I was going and why.
But brother waited for me impatiently. There was no time to waste, not even on goodbyes.
Elijah had agreed to drive us through the wasteland. He and Okwaho stood by a dusty car in the
garage. When brother saw me stroll towards them, he scrunched his brow in confusion.
“What’s with you?” he said.
“Nothing.”
“You just came from Priscilla’s office?” Elijah asked. I nodded. Elijah chuckled. “Then I
understand perfectly.” Okwaho was in a poor mood. But as soon as he put two and two together,
he allowed himself a smirk.
“What?” I said defensively.
“Oh nothing,” Elijah said. He patted me on the back. “I’m going to miss you, little man.
She’s in a better mood when you’re around.”
“Alright. Alright. Come on,” I said with blushed cheeks.
We entered the vehicle and went on our way. Kingsholm pulled away as we hurled ourselves
into the orange wasteland. I watched the city shrink and felt a growing melancholy rise in my
chest. Melancholy for the city, its choking smog, and its fractured people. And melancholy for
leaving it all behind.
The trip passed without a word from any of us. We were each lost in our respective worlds,
thinking about the conflicts to come. Elijah hummed a sad tune and glanced at Okwaho and me
sparingly. When we reached the forest edge, where rusty earth met mossy trees, he slowed the
car to a stop.
“End of the line,” he said. “You’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
“Thanks for the ride, Elijah,” I said.
“My pleasure. Stay out of trouble, little man. And stay safe. Both of you.”
“We appreciate it,” brother said with a rigid smile. As Elijah rode away into the orange
expanse, I stood and watched the sands swirl into the air. They swallowed Elijah’s car and rose
like a shifting gate before the city. Okwaho had already disappeared into the forest. He told me
to hurry up.
Verdant trees welcomed me home with outstretched arms. Their cool, green shade fell light
on my neck, and their fragrant scent filled my lungs with ease. I looked up into the close-knit
branches and spied birds tweeting happily. To think this image of calm and beauty would soon
come to an end.
“The rebels like you,” Okwaho said.
“I guess they do,” I said, catching up to him. “I spent more time with them than you did. I
wouldn’t take it personally.” I assumed he was jealous. Brother was always more outgoing than
me. Before, Adsila was all I had. He probably wasn’t used to having fewer friends than me. But
it was something else.
A stick cracked underfoot as Okwaho pushed his way through the forest. “I don’t take it
personally,” he said. “Just remember where your loyalty lies.”
“Brother, what are you talking about?”
“They did what was best for their people,” he said. “I suggest you do the same.”
That was it. Okwaho didn’t trust me. To tell the truth, I was insulted. I sacrificed my trial
and my adulthood to find him. I climbed to the top of Kingsholm and broke into a prison for
him. But I got along with people of a different culture. So now he doubted me.
“And what is best for our people?” I asked.
Okwaho’s steps thudded as he stomped forward. His pointed gazed carved a path ahead. “To
fight,” he said as though it were so obvious. “What we have here is worth defending.”
“Yes,” I said, “But isn’t it better to run from a fight if you know you can’t win?”
“You can’t know anything until you try,” brother said.
“I can’t know if jumping from a cliff will kill me until I try,” I said, mocking his serious
“I can’t know if jumping from a cliff will kill me until I try,” I said, mocking his serious
tone. Okwaho didn’t like that. He stopped short and whirled around to face me.
“I know what is right, brother,” he said. “And I will fight even if you, the elder, and the
whole village think I am wrong. But I am sure I am not alone.”
I hated to repeat her words. But even the most twisted words ring true on occasion. “A smart
man knows when to roll over,” I said. Okwaho didn’t answer.
I remembered the last time we had spoken in that forest. Brother Wolf comforted me with
words of encouragement. Now that I think about it, he seemed sad and distracted. Even so, he
was never so stern and irritable.
Brother was named Okwaho, “wolf,” for his undying loyalty to his family and his people.
But until now that loyalty manifested itself in soft-spoken support. He defended his brother and
his father, and he took on responsibilities at a young age to provide for the tribe. But now that
ferocious loyalty had been pushed to the extreme. Okwaho would defend the Alguin tribe even
if it went against the people’s will, and even if it meant the destruction of the tribe itself.
As I looked at Okwaho, I studied his features. Features that had not been there before. A
pinch in his brow, rings under his eyes, and a shadow over his gaze. Brother seemed a strange
copy of himself. He was not Brother Wolf anymore. The past few days had changed him. Now
he was Lone Wolf. Bold, independent, and wayward.
How cruel, I thought. I risked my life to save my brother and came back with someone else. I
wondered if I would ever get him back. A rift was growing between us. At the moment, it felt
impossible to span.
Still, I considered myself lucky. Kingsholm had changed Okwaho. But I was still the same
boy. Right?
Somewhere Else
Summer light poured through the gaps in the trees. Somehow the sun had found the perfect
angle to pierce the forest. Its rays shoved through the leafy branches and bathed the ground in
gold. Inky shade still clung to the tree trunks. Even so, there was little refuge from the sun.
The heat too was inescapable. Sweat beaded on my brow and dripped down my cheeks. I
can only imagine how unbearable it was in the valley. Kids could cool off in the river. They
could splash and play without a care. But the adults still had to toil in the fields. They would
drip and pant just as I did. And soon they would have the burden of bad news too.
As Okwaho and I walked through the forest, a lone stag shuffled between the trees. It
nibbled on the tall grass and verdant shrubs. In its innocent, brown gaze, a fragile glint shone.
When the stag lifted its head, our eyes met. The creature stared at me, content and unconcerned.
But as soon as Lone Wolf strode forward, the stag bolted.
“So what are we going to do when we get home?” I asked.
“We demand a meeting,” he said.
“With Elder Hiawatha?”
Okwaho shook his head. “No. The entire village. They have lived in the dark for too long.
Everyone needs to know what is out there, and what is coming for them.” He quickened his
pace.
“Brother?” I said. He grunted in response. “Are we the only ones that know about
Kingsholm?”
Okwaho stopped. He looked at me with his eyebrow cocked in judgment. I guess it was a
dumb question. “Think,” he said. “Every boy that climbed that mountain saw what was on the
dumb question. “Think,” he said. “Every boy that climbed that mountain saw what was on the
horizon.”
“That means every man in the village knows?” I said. “But no one ever talks about it.”
“That’s right. They don’t,” brother said. “It is a secret we have all kept from the women and
children.”
“Why?”
“Ask the elder. I am sure he will give you a reason.” Okwaho stomped ahead. But I rushed
forward to cut him off.
“But there’s no way everyone could keep that secret. Someone would say something at some
point. Someone would …”
“After every trial, Hiawatha asks the boy to come talk to him. What do you think he says?”
Lone Wolf asked. “He threatens them with banishment. Either they keep quiet or they leave.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“It does to him.”
“So if we mention Kingsholm, he will kick us out of the tribe?” I said.
Okwaho shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We will tell the whole village whether he
likes it or not. The tribe will see the truth. They will know we are just trying to protect everyone.
It has to be done.”
Lone Wolf was probably right. But his words didn’t comfort me much. If I lost the village,
then I would lose father and Adsila too. I would lose my family and friends. They gave my life
meaning. Without them … well, I didn’t want to think about it.
Besides, it had to be done. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, not after what I had learned.
Kingsholm was coming for our land, and they would take it with force. The cost of silence was
Kingsholm was coming for our land, and they would take it with force. The cost of silence was
too great.
Before too long, we returned to the village. Okwaho strode ahead with a determined look in
his eye. I shuffled behind him, uncertain how the village would greet us.
As soon as they spotted us, our tribesmen broke into an excited chatter. Someone ran ahead
in search of our father. The rest simply gawked. At first, I thought their stares were because of
our absence. Then I realized it was because of our clothing. I still had the green jacket and dark
blue trousers from the Bellows.
An older woman named Kahwihta was first to approach. She was the elder’s wife. Just like
her husband, she was a shriveled raisin of a woman with a frail voice and frame. If any of the
women knew about Kingsholm, I assumed it must’ve been her. But she stared at me with such
awe and confusion.
“What is this?” she said. Her hands grabbed my sleeves and ran over the intricate fabric.
Kahwihta was a skilled craftswoman, but even she could not make such clothing. “Where did
you get this?”
Okwaho answered for me. “Someone fetch Hiawatha. We have important news that concerns
the entire village,” he said.
“What is it?” she said.
“You will find out soon enough,” brother said.
I heard the patter of heavy steps from somewhere down the road. It was my father. Despite
his old, weary knees, he sprinted towards us. His eyes were wet and panicked. Deep, purple
rings underscored them.
“Father!” I called. I ran into his arms and hugged him tight.
“Oh, my boy,” he said. He cradled my head against his chest as though I were a newborn.
Then he pushed me to arms-length to make sure I was real. He didn’t even notice my strange
attire. “I was so worried.”
“I’m okay, father,” I said. “I’m sorry to make you worry.”
“You are safe. That is what matters,” he said.
Brother clapped father on the back and hugged him briefly. “We are safe for now,” he said.
“I’m sure you know where we have been.”
Father looked at us again. I saw the slightest shift in his expression. Then he nodded and
forced a smile. “I can make a guess.”
“Yes, well, we bring news from there,” Okwaho said. “And it’s not the kind you wish to
hear. But you must hear it nonetheless.”
“So be it. I am just glad you two are back,” father said. “After I lost your mother, I could not
go through the pain of losing you as well. Whatever the news you bring, we will suffer it
together.” He looked at me again and frowned. “Where is your talisman?”
I frowned too. “I gave it to someone I thought needed it more. I hope you are not mad.”
He shook his head. “No. Of course not.” He hugged me again. I felt relieved to be with him
again.
A crowd had gathered. Everyone was staring at us. “What’s going on?” someone said. It
didn’t matter who had said it. They were all wondering the same thing.
Before Okwaho could answer, Elder Hiawatha appeared at the end of the road. Knowing
how slow he walked, I jogged to meet him. A pleasant smile sat on his wrinkled face. He
suspected nothing of the news I had to share.

“Dekanawida,” he said, “I expected you sooner. But I am glad to see you with us. Though
your outfit is quite strange. You have seen them then?”
I blushed. “Yes.”
“Is that why you have summoned me?”
Okwaho appeared behind me. He spoke in a hushed voice just loud enough for the elder to
hear. But the urgency in his tone was as clear as it could be. “Kingsholm means to attack us,” he
said. “They have given us one week to relocate, accept surrender, or prepare for battle.”
Hiawatha’s shriveled face contorted with grave concern. “How did you come by this
information?”
“I spoke with the leader myself,” I said.
“Call a meeting,” brother said. “We have kept secrets too long. Our people are in danger.”
The elder’s brow tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “May I remind you,” he said, “That you
swore to say nothing of the city? Speaking of Kingsholm may result in banishment. I thank you
for informing me, but I will decide what should be done.”
“Hiawatha, this affects all of our people,” brother said. “All of the people must decide what
must be done.”
“It is not your place to keep knowledge from the tribe,” I added. “They can decide for
themselves what must be done.” The elder looked at me with a condescending expression. He
turned up his chin in an attempt to look down at me. But my eye line was not so far from his
own.
“Dekanawida,” he said, “You are young. You were not there when I was appointed elder.
But it was my leadership that saved our people once, and it is my leadership that will save it
But it was my leadership that saved our people once, and it is my leadership that will save it
again. That is my role in this tribe. You must trust me.”
I shook my head. “I trust your intentions,” I said. “But the stakes are too high.”
“Banish me if you want,” Lone Wolf said with a grimace. “If you do not call a meeting, I
will tell all of them myself. The men of this tribe know what lies outside our forest. They will
heed my warning, and they will decide what is best with or without you.”
Hiawatha considered our words with a distant and glossy stare. After a tense moment of
hesitation, he sucked his teeth and sighed. “Fine. You will have your meeting this evening. I will
allow you two to share what you have seen. You will be free to voice your opinions about what
should be done. However, I cannot promise that the people will listen to you.”
“Thank you. That is all I ask,” Okwaho said. As he jogged back to father’s side, the elder
grumbled to himself. The whole village was staring at him.
Blushing, I rubbed the back of my neck and stared at my feet. “Elder Hiawatha?”
“Hm?”
“I am sorry. I didn’t pass the trial,” I said. “I reached the top of the mountain. The Wise
One’s Tear was right there. But I saw the city. My brother was there on the edge of the forest.
Some people came and they —”
Hiawatha chuckled low in his throat. He waved his hand to stop me. “My boy, it is okay.
The tear was never the ritual,” he said.
“A metaphor?” I said, remembering brother’s words. I still didn’t know what it meant. But
Hiawatha nodded.
“Knowledge was the true objective,” he said. “I wanted you to see how precious this way of
life is. We are but a fragile community hidden among the trees. There are many peoples and
life is. We are but a fragile community hidden among the trees. There are many peoples and
technologies that far surpass our own. But what we lack in force, we make up for in peace and
prosperity. That is something they can never understand.” I knit my fingers together and stared
at my palms. I felt the elder’s gaze heavy on my shoulders. “That knowledge is a precious thing,
much like our tribe itself. But more important than that knowledge is knowing when to share it
… and when to hide it for the safety of others.”
“But why should we hide it?” I asked. “Shouldn’t our people have the freedom to decide
what is best for themselves?”
Hiawatha shook his head. “People rarely know what is best for themselves. If I allowed our
people to seek out Kingsholm, they would lead the city back to us. And we both know how
those people have treated our kind in the past.”
Now I shook my head. “No,” I said. “You tried to hide us from the outside world. Instead,
you blinded us, and the outside world found us anyway.”
“That is your opinion.”
“And we will see what everyone else thinks tonight.” I was taught to respect my elders. But
if respecting their opinions was so good, why did it make me feel so angry? William, Okwaho,
Hiawatha. They all thought they knew best.
With an irritated knot in my brow, I returned to my family. Father had a knowing grin on his
face. His eyes sparkled with pride. “Did brother tell you what happened?” I asked.
“I told him it was my fault,” Okwaho said, “And that you came to save me.”
“I could not be more proud of your courage,” father said. “Both of you.” He wrapped his
arms around our shoulders and pulled us close to him. But Okwaho wriggled out of his grip.
“I’m afraid,” he said, turning to stare into the trees, “That you won’t like what you hear
“I’m afraid,” he said, turning to stare into the trees, “That you won’t like what you hear
tonight. What I did … what I tried to do. But I did it to protect you and our people. I promise
you that.”
Father’s grin flickered and faded. “I am sure you did,” he said. “Come. Let’s go home. You
must be hungry.”
Together we climbed the hill that led to our hut. I was indeed very hungry. Although I
enjoyed the exotic cuisine of Kingsholm, I missed the simple pleasures of home-cooking. There
was no comparison to fresh vegetables and wild meat.
With my mouth watering and tummy rumbling, I thought about little else. I lost myself in
daydreams about juicy corn and tender venison. As distracted as I was, I barely noticed someone
calling my name.
“Dekanawida! Hey! Dekanawida!” I heard. Adsila sprinted towards me from the opening of
a hut. But it wasn’t her hut. The hut belonged to Bear, the lanky boy I had seen her with before
the trial. Adsila pulled me into a tight embrace. From over her shoulder, I saw Bear watching
from the window.
Father grumbled to himself. “I’ll let you two talk. Come on, Okwaho.”
Talk? About what? I thought.
“I was so worried about you,” Adsila said. “You and your brother disappeared. I didn’t know
what happened, and I thought … what are you wearing?”
“It’s a long story.”
Adsila set her hands on her hips and frowned. “Well, I want to hear it.”
“You will. Everyone will,” I said. “Tonight there will be a meeting. But … brother got
captured. I saved him.”

I expected Adsila to laugh or make a joke. Instead, she just looked at me as though trying to
read a message written in my eyes. Then she looked back at Bear’s hut and sighed.
“A lot happened since you were gone,” she said.
“To you?”
Adsila nodded. She sighed and looked down. Thick, black hair fell over her face. Whatever
she had to say, it seemed serious. But when she looked up again, a warm smile filled her cheeks.
“I got married.”
I laughed. But it was not a joke. Eventually I managed to congratulate her. I just never
imagined it was possible. Adsila was my age. We were children. We laughed and played all day.
She could not be a wife, not yet.
“I’m sorry. It happened so quickly,” she said. “Our families were arranging the marriage for
weeks. I meant to tell you after the ritual, but you were gone for a week.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Adsila snorted. “Of course not,” she said. “Still, life seemed so precious and fragile. Your
disappearance convinced us to do it. There was no time to waste. I felt alone without you, and
now that I’m married, I’m …”
“Never alone again,” I finished. It was a phrase uttered at every wedding. Adsila had entered
into a new family. Now she had her immediate family, extended family, and the community as a
whole. She would never feel lonely again.
“Are you happy for me?” she said.
“I am. Of course!” At least, I should have been happy for her. “It’s just … you’re different.
You’re not a girl anymore. You’re someone’s wife. You’re a woman.”

I hoped Adsila would disagree. Instead, she nodded her head. “You’re right. I am all those
things.” The childish softness in her voice had blossomed into a mature confidence. If I closed
my eyes, I might not have recognized her.
“When last we met, you wanted to play games,” I said with a sad smile.
“And now I keep Bear’s house tidy. I help on the farm. I cook,” she said. She sighed even as
her eyes smiled. “And sometime soon I will be a mother.”
Just a week ago, Adsila was a child. But now, sometime soon, she would have her own child.
It did not seem real. How could so much change in one week?
I kicked the dirt at my feet, disappointed and embarrassed. “You are a woman now, and I am
still a boy.”
Adsila touched my cheek and smiled. “No,” she said. “Even if you don’t see it yourself, you
have changed. You are a man now. I see it in your eyes ...” Her smile faded. “Those burdened by
hard times and hard truths.”
Maybe she was right. So much had happened in so short a time. Anyone would be changed
by that experience. But it provided no comfort.
“We are all changing, and once we were changing together. Becoming an adult is a process.
A slow one,” Adsila said. “I don’t know what challenges you faced on your journey, but perhaps
you were robbed of that process. Perhaps life forced your hand, and that is why you do not think
yourself an adult. But we were separated, and you are on a different path.”
I felt in myself a heavy sadness like mourning a loved one. But I did not actually mourn a
loved one, only the good times I had spent with her. My head dropped to my chest. I wanted to
cry, but the tears wouldn’t come.

Adsila took me by the neck and pressed her forehead against mine. “Don’t be sad,” she said.
“Time cannot take the memories we shared. I will always consider you my friend. But whether
you like it or not, I see you are already somewhere else… perhaps with someone else?” I smiled
despite myself. Adsila giggled cheerfully. “Wonderful. Then change is not so bad as you might
think.”
“Thank you, Adsila. You will hear everything about my journey at the meeting. I should
catch up with brother and father.”
“Go. Be with your family, and I will be with mine. I will see you tonight. I’m glad you are
doing well.”
Tribe Meeting
Evening bloomed in shades of red. “Blood skies” we called it. Some considered it an omen
of violence or bad things to come. Others considered it a promise of clear nights and an easy
morning. Whatever the blood skies meant, the truth was no one could predict the future. Even I
could not say what would become of our people, though I knew what waited beyond the
horizon.
At the center of town, a bonfire raged. Tall, orange flames twitched as they shed great waves
of heat. The entire Alguin tribe sat around the fire, bathing in its radiant light. Adsila sat cross-
legged next to her husband. Father relaxed behind us. And Hiawatha stood in the shade, leaning
on a crooked staff. Brother and I stood closest to the fire. All eyes were on us.
Okwaho had changed back into our traditional deerskin garb. No doubt, he wanted to show
everyone where his loyalty lay. I, however, kept my clothes. For one, I had grown to like the
snug fit and muted colors. For another, I wanted the people to see what creations the city was
capable of. I wanted them to trust my words, rather than dismiss them as the ravings of an
imaginative child.
With a great sigh, Elder Hiawatha addressed the tribe. He raised his hands in an expression
of grandeur, and the tribesmen bowed their heads in fealty. “I have gathered you here to discuss
an important matter that has been brought to my attention by the brothers Okwaho and
Dekanawida,” he said. “The matter concerns all of us. Indeed, it would not be dramatic to say
our meeting tonight will decide the very fate of this tribe. Before I let the boys share what they
have learned, I must admit something.”
For some time, it seemed Hiawatha would not speak. He stared into the snapping fire while
For some time, it seemed Hiawatha would not speak. He stared into the snapping fire while
the others hung on his words. “What is it?” one of them said.
The elder awoke from his daze. He groaned as he shifted his weight from one achy leg to the
next. He knit his brow and looked at the women of the tribe. “Half of you already know what it
is and why I have not admitted it sooner. To the rest, I must say I have kept something from you.
Do not judge me too harshly. I have only done what I thought necessary to protect you.”
Okwaho tired of his slow speech and his talking around the issue. So he said directly what
Hiawatha could not. “Outside of our valley, beyond a sandy wasteland, is a city of pale-skinned
settlers,” he said. “Their technology is far beyond our own. Their buildings are giant structures
of metal and glass that scrape the sky. Their weapons are fast, accurate, and lethal. And they
travel in vehicles that soar through the air.”
The women stared gravely. The men were silent. “Ladies, if you do not believe me, ask your
husbands, your brothers, or your fathers,” Okwaho added. Murmurs passed from one person to
the next to confirm it was true.
“As many of you know, my trial was just a week ago,” I said. “Hiawatha told me himself.
He told me today that the point of the trial was not to fetch the Wise One’s Tear. The point was
to learn about the city and about the fragility of our village.”
The elder nodded his head. “It is true,” he said. Even his wife Kahwihta gasped. “I wanted
to protect you. I wanted to guard that knowledge so people would not seek out the city and draw
its attention here.”
“But you told the men,” Adsila said. Bear reached out to hold her hand. She shrugged away
from him.
“You trusted them, but not us?” another woman added.

“It is the duty of a man to protect his family,” the elder said, “Even from the truth.”
“Because we couldn’t handle the truth?” Kahwihta said with anger in her voice. “Because
we girls are too emotional?”
“My dear, I …”
Father cleared his throat. He did not like conflict. What’s more, he knew this was all beside
the point. “Why are you admitting this now, Hiawatha?” he said. “You have asked us to keep
this secret for many years. Why now?”
“Because the city means to invade us,” I said.
“How do you know this?” someone asked.
“Because I talked to the leader of the city myself,” I said. I looked in the people’s eyes.
Anger gave way to fear and worry. They watched me carefully. “I assume you are all wondering
what happened to us this past week. I climbed the mountain to retrieve the Wise One’s Tear. It
was there I saw Kingsholm, the city across the wasteland. I also saw my brother on the edge of
the forest. An aircraft approached him, and the people of the city took him.”
Brother crossed his arms and confirmed my story with a grunt. “They asked me if I had
come from the forest,” he said. “They asked how many people lived there, and if we knew what
lay beneath our land. I did not answer, so they took me.” Okwaho stalked around the bonfire
while his eyes stayed locked on the flames. Orange light shone in his eyes. “As we flew to the
city, the aircraft was shot down by rebels from the city.”
“Rebels?” a stern-browed man said. He was named Tsiokwaris (Black Raven) for his sleek,
black hair. He was also Adsila’s father. No matter how many times I had seen him, he always
wore the same serious expression. Adsila said he never smiled. We certainly wouldn’t see the
wore the same serious expression. Adsila said he never smiled. We certainly wouldn’t see the
smile anytime soon.
“Tsiokwaris,” I said, “Kingsholm is divided into two parts. There is the upper city, where
people live with great wealth and prosperity. But that wealth is built on the suffering and
oppression of the lower city called the Bellows. The people there are poor and starving. A group
of them has risen up to change the city’s order.”
“These rebels killed the people that captured me, and took me to the city to tend to my
wounds,” brother said. “It is there they told me about the upper city’s plans. There is a precious
metal hidden beneath our land. They have seen it with their technology, and they mean to take it
to continue their growth. They know we are here, but they will take it nonetheless.”
“And you trust these rebels?” Hiawatha said.
“Brother is telling the truth. I can —”
“They were using me,” Lone Wolf said, cutting me off. “But they did not lie about the upper
city’s plans. They told me about the upper city’s leader, a girl named Scarlet Wright, who rules
the city through corruption, bribery, blackmail, and threat of violence. The rebels wanted me to
kill her. With her gone, they could take control of Kingsholm. So I tried.”
Father looked up at Okwaho with sadness in his eyes. The crowd buzzed with hushed
discussion. Even Hiawatha grumbled to himself in surprise.
“I knew what the rebels wanted, but I did it anyway to protect us,” brother said. “If I did not
try, nothing would change. If I succeeded, perhaps we would be safe. But the city folk captured
me before I could get to her. They questioned me, chained me, and beat me. But I told them
nothing.” Brother pushed up his sleeves to show where the restraints had worn his skin raw. He
glanced at father. For a moment, his confidence faltered.

Before the crowd could break into nervous chatter, I gave my side of the story. “When I saw
my brother was captured, I ran after him. The rebels found me and brought me to Kingsholm.
They treated me with kindness. They fed me and clothed me.” I held up my arms to show my
green jacket. There was a hint of wonder in their eyes. “When I heard where Okwaho had gone,
they helped me find my way to the upper city. I tried to rescue brother from prison, but I got
captured as well. Then Scarlet herself asked to speak with me.”
“What did she say?” asked Akwiraron, a tall man built like an ox. His massive hands tensed
as if ready to fight.
“That in exactly one week she would send her soldiers to take our land,” I said. “I begged
Scarlet to leave us alone and find her metal somewhere else. But she refused. She told me she
will invade our village because she can invade our village. If there is any kindness I can say
about her, it’s that she let Okwaho and me go.”
Brother made an irritated groan. “But she won’t change her mind, will she?” he said.
I sighed. “I don’t think she wants to hurt us. We don’t have to fight if —”
“That wasn’t my question,” brother said.
“No. She won’t change her mind,” I said. “She thinks she needs to do this to stay in power.”
Hiawatha hobbled into the light. His hands strangled the crooked staff that he used to walk.
“You see,” he said. “These people are dangerous. They take what they will and care little for
others. Do you see why I separated our village from them? These white settlers bring violence
wherever they go. They are a sickness.”
The elder’s words calmed the tribe’s temper towards him and turned its anger towards
Kingsholm. But it wasn’t fair. They did not know the people of Kingsholm. They had not lived
Kingsholm. But it wasn’t fair. They did not know the people of Kingsholm. They had not lived
among them as I had. As Hiawatha riled our people into an irritated state, I grew irritated
myself.
“That’s not true,” I said. “Our way of life is precious here, and I have no regrets for being
raised among you. But there is beauty and grace in even the darkest corners of Kingsholm and
its people. Yes. They struggle, and they fail. But they are not all lost. There are good people
there: men that provide food and shelter when there is so few to go around, children that wish
only to see the green forests, and others that have sacrificed their childhood to fight for a better
future.”
Hiawatha expressed his doubt with a snort and a raised eyebrow. “If that were true, then
those people wouldn’t be coming for our land. They are an evil people, and we should keep
them separate from ours.”
“The people should have the freedom to decide that for themselves,” I said.
Okwaho groaned. “It doesn’t matter. None of that does. They are coming. Now what? What
should we do?” he said. He walked around the fire with his arms crossed over his chest. “The
way I see it is we can surrender our land and our freedom to become a part of their society.”
People booed and shouted. No one appeared eager to defend this option, not even me. Brother
continued. “We can run away as we always have and leave behind all that we’ve worked for.”
The elder nodded his head silently. “Or we can fight for what is ours. We can stand our ground
and show those devils that we aren’t going anywhere.”
“Is there no chance for diplomacy?” father said. “We are not fighters. We are simple hunters
and farmers.”
“Your sons have already told the tribe it is not possible. Their leader will not listen to
“Your sons have already told the tribe it is not possible. Their leader will not listen to
reason,” Hiawatha said with a stamp of his staff.
“But what of the rebels?” father said. He looked up at me with tender, earthy eyes. I wish I
could give him the answer he wanted. It was the one I wanted too.
“We already asked them to help,” Okwaho said. “They want Scarlet to go ahead with the
invasion. They have been waiting for this moment. While the Kingsholm military comes our
way, the rebels will attack the upper city. They want to sacrifice our people to put their people in
power.”
“Then we have only one choice,” Hiawatha said. “We must find safety somewhere else. This
way of life must be preserved. The Alguin tribe is made of people, not of land. We can live on.”
Akwiraron stood up to face the elder. Half his face was bathed in light. The other was
cloaked in shadow. “We cannot escape their greed. Wherever we go, they will find us. If we let
them, they will take all the earth until there is no place left for us.”
“He is right. We must fight,” brother said. A log snapped and rolled out of the fire. Its body
was shriveled and black.
Tsiokwaris stood to voice his opinion. “These lands are fertile. We will find no better. We
should not give in so easily.”
His wife shook her head. “Rahrakwasere was right. We are not fighters. Not even the
strongest and bravest among you was trained for war,” she said.
Father pushed himself to his knees. “We don’t know what we’re fighting against. We don’t
know their weapons.”
“But I do. I can teach you what I have learned,” brother said.
Hiawatha furrowed his brow. “Lone Wolf,” he said with poison in his voice, “One week in a
Hiawatha furrowed his brow. “Lone Wolf,” he said with poison in his voice, “One week in a
prison does not make you an expert of their technology. Nor does it make you an expert of war.”
He straightened his back and pointed his staff at the people gathered around the fire. “None of
you was there when the settlers first came for our people. None of you saw the slaughter and
bloodshed as I did. Our people were many. This is all that remains. Do not throw yourselves on
their weapons. You do not know what you are wishing for.”
“No one wishes for this,” Tsiokwaris said. “But hard times demand hard actions.”
Bear stood. His knobbly knees shook. “I agree with Black Raven. We must fight for what is
ours.” The elder scowled.
“Can you lead our people, Okwaho?” Akwiraron said. Brother nodded. “Then I will follow
you. Share your knowledge, and I will help you fight them.”
Kahwihta cleared her throat. “My husband has led us through hard times before. I trust him,
and so should you.”
“But he lied to us,” Adsila said in gentle words. The soft features of her face twisted into a
sour expression. “It pains me to say it, Kahwihta. But how can we trust him when he has kept us
in the dark for so long?”
“I understand,” Hiawatha said, licking his cracked lips, “That it is hard to trust me at such a
time. But if you choose to fight, you will die just as our people did in the past.” Adsila frowned.
So did her mother and father. Bear did not take back his words, but he sat down and said nothing
more.
Almost without notice, night had fallen over our valley. Pale, blue stars sparkled sadly
against the black sky. The moon was nowhere to be seen.
“I know the city’s technology as well as my brother,” I said. I loosed a sigh from deep in my
“I know the city’s technology as well as my brother,” I said. I loosed a sigh from deep in my
chest. “Please. You must listen. We cannot beat them. Their weapons are too advanced. We
cannot do this alone.”
“But we are alone regardless,” Okwaho said. “We have already gone over this. The rebels
will not help us. So we must help ourselves.”
“Let me ask for help from the rebels,” I said. “We have to try.”
“There is no point,” brother said.
“Agreed,” Hiawatha said. “We must move somewhere the settlers will not harm us.”
“I would rather die for our people than run from their people,” Okwaho said. Father shook
his head and sighed.
“I am the elder,” Hiawatha said, shuffling closer to Okwaho. “I agreed to discuss this matter
with the people, but I did not agree to let the people decide. No one will die. We will leave these
lands, and find peace somewhere else.”
“No,” Akwiraron said. “We will put it to a vote.”
Tsiokwaris nodded. “With or without you, Hiawatha, I will fight. But we should act as one
people. Let us vote.”
With a grumble, the elder relented. “Very well. But I ask you all to think with cold logic and
reason. This is an emotional matter, but we must not let our emotions overtake our better
judgments. Let us think on it for the night and decide in the morning.”
“Hiawatha,” Lone Wolf growled. “We have only a week before the attack, and that is
assuming Scarlet told the truth. If we are to fight, then we must prepare as soon as possible. We
settle this matter tonight.”
“Well, I …” The elder scrunched his brow and sighed. “Very well. If you wish to relocate
“Well, I …” The elder scrunched his brow and sighed. “Very well. If you wish to relocate
and cast aside these foolish notions of war and violence, raise your hand.” There was a moment
of hesitation. At first, no one raised their hand except Hiawatha and Kahwihta. The elder
whirled his head this way and that in disbelief. But after a few seconds, people made up their
minds.
Adsila raised her hand, so did my father, and so did I. All in all fourteen people agreed to
move. It wasn’t even half of our tribe.
“If you believe we should stay and fight, raise your hand,” Okwaho said. At once, he raised
his hand. So did Tsiokwaris, Akwiraron, and Bear. Then came the rest. The final tally was
eighteen votes.
Silence fell over the forest. In that silence, I exchanged a long stare with Adsila. There was
fear in her eyes, fear for herself and the family she had started. But our fate was sealed and our
future decided. The Alguin tribe would fight.

No Permission, No Approval
With no time to spare, Okwaho stayed up the entire night drafting plans. He muttered to
himself and scribbled on a stack of papers. Although brother did not share what he had written, I
could tell he was lost.
Father was right. The Alguin tribe is not a band of warriors. It is a peaceful society of
hunters and farmers. We have no military trainings and no education on tactics of war. We don’t
even have weapons unless you count bows, arrows, and hunting knives. None of that could
compare to the might of Kingsholm. We were outnumbered and outgunned. Somehow Okwaho
had to find a way to defend us.
When I woke the next morning, Okwaho was still in the same place I had last seen him. His
eyes had sunken in, and his long hair was in a tizzy.
“How are the plans?” I asked. I expected him to say he didn’t know what to do. I hoped he
would change his mind. But I had no such luck. In fact, brother had developed an entire tome of
battle plans. He spread them out across the table for me to see.
“Great. Great,” he said. His pupils were swollen, and his eyes focused. “The trees give us a
serious advantage. The forest canopy is dense. It will shield us from sight and attacks from
above.”
“That’s good,” I said as I searched the hut for something to snack on. It was good, but it
wasn’t enough to defeat Scarlet’s army.
“Women and children that cannot fight will hide at the glade downstream,” Okwaho
continued. He wasn’t looking at me or even at the papers in front of him. Brother’s eyes shifted
and darted at some point in front of him. Already he was lost in a battle that hadn’t happened
and darted at some point in front of him. Already he was lost in a battle that hadn’t happened
yet.
“That’s a good idea, but what about actual defenses?” I said.
Okwaho rifled through his papers. Once he found the one he was looking for, he held it up
for me to see. There was a sketch of a line and some arrows. The drawing meant nothing to me,
and brother didn’t explain himself.
I rubbed my eyes and groaned. “What is that?” I asked.
“It’s a road in the forest,” he said.
“What road? There’s no road.”
“Exactly!”
He set down the paper. I circled around to take a better look at it. After a second look, I saw
where the road connected to the village. It wasn’t far from where I started my trial a week ago.
But I was certain there was nothing there, not even a game trail.
“Think, brother,” Okwaho said. “How will the city get to us? There are no roads, no paths,
no trails.”
I shrugged. “They’ll probably just tear down the trees.”
He nodded. “Unless we tear down the trees for them and make our own road.” Okwaho
stood. He had sat so long that his legs were stiff and heavy. He shuffled to my side and motioned
to the empty space in front of us. “We give them a road to lead them where we want them. We
funnel them into this small path so their numbers mean nothing.”
“Then what?”
“We will line the road with traps,” he said. “Spiked ditches, barricades, swinging logs.
Anything and everything to slow them down.”

With a great sigh, I shook my head and walked to the entrance of the hut. The morning sky
was veiled by dense, gray clouds. Father’s farm appeared metallic in the muted light, and the
forest was ashen brown.
“We need to do more than slow them down,” I said.
“And we will,” Okwaho said. He marched outside and gazed at the village below. The
people were busy. The air rang with the cry of metal and the crash of trees. Preparations had
already begun.
“What can we do against their weapons?” I said. “They will kill us if they see us.”
“They can’t kill us if they can’t see us,” Okwaho said. “We will hide in the trees. Our traps
and blockades will slow them down so we can pick them off one by one.”
I respected brother’s efforts. He had thought long and hard to give our people a fighting
chance. But it wasn’t enough. If we fought in the open, they would kill us all. If we fought in the
trees, they would burn the trees down. No matter what we did, Kingsholm would conquer our
tribe. We needed help.
“Where is father?” I asked. He was not in the hut, and he was not in the field. Brother
pointed to the edge of the village, where the forest trees shook and fell.
“He’s with the rest of the village,” Okwaho said. Although he did not say it, I know he
meant that I should have been there too. He was right to say so. Chances of victory were slim,
but they were nonexistent if we did not all work together. Still, I couldn’t help but feel it was all
for nothing.
I started in the direction of the village. But brother stopped me. “Will you find Akwiraron
for me?” he said. “Give him this.” He rushed into the hut and returned with a sheet of paper.
for me?” he said. “Give him this.” He rushed into the hut and returned with a sheet of paper.
Drawn on was a diagram of a pit with sharpened stakes. “Tell him the first should be somewhere
at the center of the forest. That’s where we’ll slow them down. But as the road gets closer to the
village, we need as many as possible. It will slow their vehicles down and prevent them from
entering.”
“Yeah yeah.”
“Hey, Dekanawida,” Okwaho said. He patted me on the back and smiled. Despite his best
efforts, the smile was rigid and fake. “I appreciate it. I know you don’t agree with me. But I
promise we will stop them.” I forced a smile as well and left to find Akwiraron and father.
No matter where I looked, I saw the people of my tribe in a frantic rush. Women fashioned
fletched arrows while boys honed sticks into spears and spikes. The men, however, were absent.
Each of them was by the forest, carving Okwaho’s road. Even from afar, I could hear their
labored groans and the crack of their axes.
How cruel, I thought as I watched the trees tremble and fall. The forest had given us
everything. Our very way of life depended on the trees and all the other creatures that called
them home. In exchange for those gifts, we decided to destroy the forest. It wasn’t fair even if it
was necessary.
While I walked to the edge of the woods, Adsila caught me by the arm. “Dekanawida,” she
said. “Is it true then? Are we really going to fight them?”
“I guess so,” I said. “Whether it’s the right choice or not, the tribe made its decision.”
Adsila motioned around to the commotion in the village. “Your brother thinks this will be
enough to keep us safe. Is he right?”
I sighed and shook my head. “No, I don’t think he is. I have seen the rebels’ armory. What
I sighed and shook my head. “No, I don’t think he is. I have seen the rebels’ armory. What
they have is enough to wipe us out several times over. But the rebels are too scared to attack the
upper city until they send their soldiers to our village. That means …”
“That we’re doomed,” Adsila finished.
“I doubt they’ll send their entire army to crush a small village,” I said. “But even if we can
fight off the people they send, they’ll just send more people. We won’t last.”
“There must be some other way,” she said. She touched her belly and stared off into the
distance. I can only imagine the thoughts that raced through her head.
“I will do what I can. We all will.” I knew my words didn’t comfort Adsila because they
didn’t comfort me either. Her distant gaze held steady. Shallow wrinkles formed across her
brow. “I have to deliver a message,” I said. I patted her on the shoulder, but she didn’t respond.
It was as if I had already disappeared.
I passed deeper into the village. Everywhere I walked, eyes turned up to watch me go. I had
changed back into my tribal clothes, so I knew it had nothing to do with my appearance.
Something else drew their attention. I checked my hair and face. But everything was in order.
As far as I could tell, there was nothing there but myself.
To escape their stares, I hurried to the forest. All the men were there. So far they had only
carved a few yards into the woods. The felled trees were dragged to the side and stripped of their
branches. No doubt, Okwaho had some devious plan for them. I spotted father by one of these
trees, but first I needed to find Akwiraron.
The muscular man was at the heart of the heavy labor. Sweat dripped down his beefy limbs
as he swung his ax. And the forest rang with his labored shouts. No matter how big the job,
Akwiraron took pleasure in the work. He had a great smile on his face that grew wider as the
Akwiraron took pleasure in the work. He had a great smile on his face that grew wider as the
trees toppled before him. If everyone worked with such joy and vigor, the road would be
complete in time.
As he saw me approach, Akwiraron set down his ax. “Here to join us?” he said. “Your father
could use your help cleaning up over there.”
“In a second,” I said. I offered him the paper Okwaho had given me. He took it and grunted
to himself a few times. I passed along brother’s message. Akwiraron grunted again.
“We’re nowhere near ready for that,” he said. “We got a long way to go before the edge of
the forest, and we still have to rip out the stumps.”
“I’m sure there’s a lot to be done. Do you think we can get it done before they come?” I
asked.
Awkiraron wiped the sweat from his brow and sucked his teeth. “It’ll be close. It’ll take
every one of us. We’ll have to work all day and into the night. But if Wolf is right, it’ll be
enough.”
“Well, I won’t slow you down anymore,” I said. I found father carrying a bundle of leafy
branches to a heap. I assumed these would be used to hide Okwaho’s staked pits. By the cuts on
father’s arms and the sweat on his brow, I could tell he had been at this for a while. “You should
have woken me earlier. You look like you could use my help.”
“Good morning,” father said with a weary smile. “I didn’t want to disturb you. You had a
long journey. You needed your rest.”
“And so did brother, but I don’t think he slept at all.” Father frowned and looked down at the
mention of Okwaho. He said nothing. But I could read the disappointment on his face plain as
ever.
Without a word, father passed me a knife. I followed him to one of the felled trees and began
cleaning it of branches. We worked in silence. Only now and then did we even look at each
other. Even so, I assumed we felt the same way: trapped in a fate we did not choose for
ourselves. We worked hard and in vain. But there was nothing father could do. As for me …
well, it was only a fool’s hope.
Brother joined the rest of us after another hour or so. He had set all his plans to paper. Now,
like any good leader, he joined his followers to work as one. Notably, he said nothing to me or
father.
Around midday, we broke for lunch. Father and I sat apart from the others on one of the
cleared logs. We were both quiet. But I could keep the silence for only so long.
“It’s pointless,” I said. “Even if we make the road, even if we set our traps, even if we push
back their soldiers, we cannot protect the village forever. Whatever victory we find, it will be
temporary.”
Father nodded. “You may be right,” he said. “Perhaps it is suicide. But I will fight
regardless. There is nothing more I can do.”
“I don’t want to desert our people,” I said, “But we cannot do this alone.”
“Do you think we would have a better chance if the rebels came?” father asked. The leading
tone in his voice suggested he already knew the answer.
“Of course,” I said. “But I don’t know if they would actually come. We already asked them
once. Why should a second time make a difference?”
Father shrugged. “Dekanawida,” he said, “Every man must make his own choice, for better
or worse. If you think it is the best way to help us, go ask for help from the rebels.”
“But —”
He held up his hand to silence me. “You don’t need permission. Not from me. Not from your
brother. Go do what you think is right.”
I weighed father’s words in my mind for a long while. What will the people think? I thought.
Will they think I’m a coward? Will they understand? But father was right. I didn’t need anyone’s
permission, and I didn’t need anyone’s approval.
Having made my decision, I stood and strode back to our hut. Father made the slightest grin
as he watched me go. But the others muttered to themselves, uncertain where I was going and
why.
I changed back into my city clothes and packed a small bag with food. Without a car to drive
me, the journey to Kingsholm would take a day at least. And there wouldn’t be any food in the
sandy wasteland.
As I filled my bag, I heard footsteps behind me. Okwaho stormed into the hut. “Where do
you think you’re going?” he said.
“You’ve already guessed, haven’t you?”
Lone Wolf crossed his arms and scoffed. “I have, but I hoped I was wrong.”
“It is our best chance to save the tribe,” I said. I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed
to the door. Okwaho blocked my way.
“They will let you down, brother. We can only trust our own people.”
I didn’t want to argue. I knew Lone Wolf had made up his mind long ago. Nothing I said
would change his opinion. So I stood and waited for him to step aside. When he did not move, I
sighed. “We have no choice,” I said.

Okwaho’s hard gaze washed over me. There was no anger in his eyes, only disappointment.
But brother must have realized the same thing I had realized about him. My mind was made.
There was not point in arguing.
“I know you think that,” he said. He stepped aside to let me go. But even as I pushed past
him, I could feel his judgment on me. I faced no better on my way out of the village.
The women watched me from their huts. The children watched me with stakes in their hands.
The men watched me with their axes lodged in the trees.
“Where is he going? What is he doing?” they said.
“To save us,” father murmured, as if to himself. If the others heard him, they did not react.
He met my eyes and nodded.
Without a word, I passed into the forest. The shade rolled over me like smog over a city. And
a chill slipped over my back as a dozen eyes searched through the trees to find me. But I would
not turn back. No matter what they thought, no matter what it cost, I would march forward.
From somewhere behind me, I heard my brother speak. “Dekanawida made his choice. He
chose to abandon us,” he said. “But he chose wrong. You are stronger. You are braver. Together
we will survive.” The people cheered, but their cries were half-hearted at best.
She Deserves Better

Green fronds and healthy trees peeled back onto a barren land of orange dirt. The way
forward was veiled by dust. Sands swept like rusty banners across a hazy screen. And in the
wasteland, a fell wind bellowed.
It was not an inviting area. The swirling sands restricted my vision, and the winds tried to
push me astray. But the uncertain expanse was a necessary transition to Kingsholm. And this
time there was no one there to help me through the harsh environment.
For the first few steps, I thought I had gotten lucky. The breeze calmed to a lull, and the
loose dirt settled. If conditions stayed like this, I would reach the city sooner. And the sooner I
reached the city, the sooner I could save our people.
But the weather changed before long. A cyclone of dust tossed the earth into the sky. I
couldn’t see the forest behind me or the horizon on either side. All the world was lost in a haze
so that even the shadow glowed orange. My only saving grace was the towering skyline of
Kingsholm. Even in a dust storm, the city loomed high. So I knew I could never lose myself
forever.
At some time during my journey, night fell. It slipped over the wasteland almost without
notice. With the night came a chilling cold that grew colder still from the biting wind. But there
was no shelter to hide me or offer comfort. There was only dirt. So I curled up alone with my
arms tucked in my shirt.
Although the night was cold, it was not dark. Kingsholm, ever alive, shone with artificial
light. The cool glow bathed the surrounding area in warm purples and flickering blues. Even the
stars paled next to the city’s light.

But as commanding as the city’s presence was, it was still so far away. It took half a day to
even reach the city’s borders. Nonetheless, I made the journey with a joyful spark in my chest.
No matter what happened, I would get the chance to see Priss again.
As I passed into the city smog, I put on my mask and hurried to the rebel hideout. I got
turned around a few times on the winding city roads. Kingsholm is a big place after all. But in
time, I found my way to the metal box covered in graffiti. It was here I entered the hideout for
the first time and here I had left it for the last time.
Of course, I had forgotten a key detail. Elijah had a special button in his car that opened the
lift to the garage. I had nothing. So I knocked on the metal door, hoping someone would answer.
No one did. I knocked again and called out for someone.
To my surprise, I received an answer from behind me. A car honked, and someone waved
from the window.
“Get in,” the driver said. So I hopped in the car, and pulled down my mask.
“Thanks,” I said.
The driver took off his mask and pulled the car into the lift. I recognized the man’s beard and
long nose immediately. It was John. “I thought that was you. I didn’t expect to see you,” he said.
Something tugged down on his voice. Something heavy. I thought John would be happy to see
me, but I assumed he had his own troubles. And I didn’t want to pry.
“I came to see William. My people have chosen to stay and fight. But we won’t make it
without your help,” I said.
Pale, yellow lights came on above us, and the room descended with a rickety clank. John
stared ahead until the underground road appeared before us.

“Dekan, I don’t think you’ll get the answer you want,” he said.
I sighed. “Yeah, I know. But I have to try.”
John said nothing in response. He drove into the garage and parked the car. Before getting
out, he looked at me and forced a smile. “I got a new job thanks to you,” he said finally.
“Oh yeah?”
“I’m a repairman. Someone needed to repair the vehicle you destroyed. Turns out I like
doing it.”
“That’s awesome. I’m happy for you,” I said. “Hey, uh, where can I find William?”
John shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have a tracker on him. I don’t know what to tell you,” he said.
“I guess that makes sense.”
Wiping his long nose, John hurried ahead. But as we entered the building, he stopped and
looked down. “Mr. Lundergan’s been spending a lot of time alone. He’s probably in the
greenhouse or the office.”
“Thanks,” I said.
John was on the way to the dining hall, and the dining hall was on the way to the
greenhouse. So I followed him for a little while. He stayed quiet the entire walk. And when we
entered the dining hall, I noticed only a soft chatter. Everyone was in a somber mood. I
wondered if the mission against the Red Wings failed.
But as I looked around, I saw a few people with a red stripe in their hair. By the looks of it,
they had joined the rebels. “Did you guys defeat the Red Wings?” I asked John.
“Uh … yeah. We did. But maybe you should find Lundergan and talk to him about it,” he
said.
I thanked John and continued on my way to the greenhouse. The room greeted me with a
warm, moist air that smelled of sweet flowers. And indeed, flowers had bloomed all over the
greenhouse. Their petals boasted every color of the rainbow. The plants thrived under William’s
care. But he was not there to admire his work. Neither was anyone else.
So I headed to William’s office next. I knocked on the door three times, but no one
answered. I didn’t know where else to look for William, so I poked my head into the office just
to be sure.
At once I noticed the ceiling lamps shone brighter this time. Someone had changed the
bulbs. No longer heavy gold, the room took on shades of electric yellow and brilliant white. And
the usual clutter was gone. There were no stacks of paper or heaps of books. Someone had found
a place for the maddening amounts of writing.
Seated behind the clear and tidy desk was William himself. His eyes widened with surprise
as he saw me. “Dekanawida,” he said. His voice turned up as if asking a question.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” I said. But there was nothing on the table before him. There was
no one else in the room with him. And I didn’t hear him talking. By the looks of it, William was
simply sitting in silence.
“Sit down,” he said. “I assume you came here for a reason.”
“My people made a decision. They want to stay and fight Kingsholm’s army,” I said.
William’s expression was emotionless and unchanging. He stared at me blankly. I’m not sure he
heard a word of what I said, but I continued anyway. “I know you already refused to help us.
heard a word of what I said, but I continued anyway. “I know you already refused to help us.
The upper city’s invasion of our land gives you a great opportunity, one that you cannot ignore.
But I have no choice. I have to ask for your help. We do not stand a chance. My home will be
destroyed. My people will be destroyed. We need your help.”
As I spoke, William took something out of his pocket and placed it on the table. It was the
stone talisman I had given Priss. The bright light above caught on its smooth surface, and the
carved spiral filled with a yellow hue.
“William, is there … ?” I started. But I couldn’t find the words.
“Our mission was successful. We conquered the Red Wings and brought them into our own
community. They will join us for the attack on the upper city,” the rebel leader said. His fists
tensed until his knuckles shone white. “And I want you to know I listened to your advice. I set
up clinics to help Radiance users off of their addiction. You were right. They need to heal before
they can grow with the city, and I gave them the space and resources to do just that.”
“That’s great,” I said. But I could tell he was building to something, and I knew I wouldn’t
like it.
William took a long, shaky breath and looked up at the brilliant lights. Tears glistened in his
eyes. “Priscilla didn’t make it,” he said.
“What do you mean she didn’t make it?” I already knew what he meant. But it could not be
so. I told Priss I would see her again. I planned to show her our village. Now none of that could
happen.
“She was shot,” William said.
“Did she … suffer?” The word stuck in my throat. But the longer it stayed on my tongue, the
more it pained me. My head spun, and the lights danced across my eyes.
William shook his head. “It was over in an instant,” he said. He licked his dry, trembling lips
and swallowed a hard lump in his throat. “The funeral is tomorrow night.”
“I will be there,” I said. For a while, we both stewed in the insufferable silence. Neither of
us knew what to say or how to say it. But the quiet became unbearable. I had to say something
even if only to distract from the storm building in my head and heart. “What about the assault on
the upper city?”
“It will continue as planned,” William said. “We are just waiting for signs of the Kingsholm
army leaving.”
“I doubt they will send their entire force. If you could spare —”
William sat up with fire in his voice. “I am in no mood to talk business,” he said. His lips
twitched as they attempted to form words. But nothing came out of his mouth. So he turned
away from me with a sharp sniffle. “I don’t want to hear a word of anything. Not until my
daughter is in the ground.”
“I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice.
“Leave me. Please,” he said. “And take your necklace. It did nothing for her. I can’t look at
it anymore.”
I reached across the table and took the talisman. Without a word, I headed for the door. As I
was halfway out of the office, I looked back at William. His shoulders were shaking, and his
head was in his hands.
As I found my old room, I clutched the talisman tight. I wanted to squeeze it until it broke or
I did. The necklace was supposed to protect Priss. But she died anyway. Maybe the necklace
was not a protective talisman but a curse. How many missions had she been on before I gave it
was not a protective talisman but a curse. How many missions had she been on before I gave it
to her? How many troubles had she escaped? But only when I had given her the talisman did she
finally meet her end. No matter how tight I clutched the stone necklace, it would not shatter.
While I wove my way through the rebel hideout, I felt several eyes on me. But no one came
close or said a thing.
Once I reached the room, I shut the door and sat in silence like William. I stared at the
talisman as I waited for the tears to fall. But even when they did, I did not feel any relief. The
talisman weighed heavy on my conscious.
A surge of anger came over me, and I threw the necklace across the room. It clanged against
the hard walls. But it did not break, and it did not crack. There was no destroying it. So, sighing,
I placed the talisman around my neck. If it was a curse, then I would bear it so no one else had
to. It would be my burden, and mine alone.
When it came time for Priscilla’s funeral, I emerged from my room and followed the others.
Elijah, John, and Rob stayed by my side as we waited for the ceremony to begin. They watched
over me and exchanged glances among each other. For a while, I thought they wouldn’t speak to
me. They didn’t know what to say. And if they did, they were too scared.
“I am sorry,” Rob said eventually.
“I should have told you,” John said. “I just couldn’t do it.”
“She was special to you,” Elijah said, putting his arm around me, “And she was special to us
too. We will all miss her dearly.”
Although I appreciated their words, they did nothing to ease the pain inside of me. I’m not
sure there was anything anyone could say to heal that pain. But they definitely tried.
John rubbed his nose and cleared his throat. “If it’s any consolation,” he said. “You made her
happy, Dekan.”
Rob grunted in agreement. “When you came, she was different,” he said.
“The truth is we all suffer from our own personal struggles,” Elijah said. “Priss was no
different. She was a kid, but because of her father …”
“She never got to be a kid,” I finished.
He nodded in agreement. “She handled leadership with grace, and we followed her loyally.
But that’s a role she never should have been forced into. She sacrificed her own happiness to
please her father. I bet it ate her up inside.”
“Like a sickness,” John said.
Elijah gently poked my shoulder and flashed a reassuring smile. “But you healed her of that
pain.”
I thanked them. This time their words comforted me a bit more. Still, it was impossible to
avoid sadness at a funeral.
The ceremony took place in the heart of the Bellows. We stood in a fallow, gray field
surrounded on all sides by rusted, metal buildings left to rot. At the center of the field was an
unmarked hole. All I could think was, She deserves better.
Elijah and five other burly men brought forth a crooked, wooden box and lowered it into the
hole. Priss was inside. She deserves better. As the men covered the casket in dirt, William spoke.
His eyes were swollen and red from a long night of crying.
“I wanted to thank you all for coming today to honor my daughter,” he said. His speech was
disjointed as if confused by his own words. “Priscilla,” he said, looking down at his hands. For
disjointed as if confused by his own words. “Priscilla,” he said, looking down at his hands. For
several seconds, he said nothing. We all waited. In the background, the crack of spades rang
steady.
William looked at the grave. A deep web of wrinkles was hammered into his brow. “I’m
sorry,” he said. His voice was muffled by his black mask. Here, the smog was thick. It
smothered the sky, and the air below. A mask was a necessity. But William pulled it down so we
could hear and see him properly. His nostrils flared from the harsh air.
“I’m sorry,” William said again. “I wanted us to remember Priscilla with happy memories. I
wanted us to laugh and drink to her memory. But I can’t bring myself to do it.”
The people shifted with unease. And still the shovels cracked as the hole filled with dirt.
“I cannot forgive this place and its people,” William said. “My daughter was born and died
under the yoke of oppression. She never knew freedom. She never knew prosperity. The only
thing she knew was choking air and trash raining from above, from our cruel leaders who don’t
even have the dignity to look at us when their actions make us suffer. No life should be so short
and so filled with grief.”
William gestured aggressively to his daughter’s filling grave. He shouted with raw anger and
sadness. “How cruel that she be buried in this hideous place without the sun to shine on her!
Without the grass to cover her or flowers to sweeten the air. How cruel that a beautiful and
brilliant girl be locked away in this rusted prison.”
Eventually the smog got to him. William coughed loud and hoarse. He put on his mask, but
the coughing fit continued for several moments more. When his throat calmed, he spoke once
more. This time his voice was small in his throat.
“But I want us to remember this place,” he said. “I want us to promise that when we take the
“But I want us to remember this place,” he said. “I want us to promise that when we take the
city, we will give my daughter the resting place she deserves.” The people nodded their heads
and voiced their approval. “Promise me. Promise her. Our work isn’t done until the sun shines
on this place and the flowers outnumber the stars in the sky.”
The crowd heard their leader’s rallying cry and cheered. But still I thought, She deserves
better.
After the burial, the rebels held a feast. They ate and drank in Priss’s honor. But I didn’t
have an appetite, and neither did William. As soon as we returned to the hideout, he retreated to
his office. No one wanted to bother him, not even me. But I still had a job to do.
As soon as I barged into William’s office, he groaned. “Dekanawida, now is not the time,”
he said.
“My people do not have the time,” I said. “I know you’re grieving. I am too. But if we don’t
get help, I will lose everyone.”
“You already asked for help, and I already said no. You know I can’t pass on this chance.
And especially not now. You would have an easier chance convincing Scarlet to call off the
attack.”
“William, you know she won’t —”
“Of course I know!” he shouted. “And you know I won’t change my mind either. You want
my advice?” He yanked open a drawer and pulled out a pistol. He placed it on the desk and
pushed it towards me. “Kill her.”
I stared at the gun with a blank stare. “You can’t ask that of me.”
“Why not?” he said. “If you succeed, you will cripple the upper city’s leadership. It will
leave them too weak and disorganized to attack your people and defend against mine. Once we
leave them too weak and disorganized to attack your people and defend against mine. Once we
take over, we will leave your people be.”
“I’m not a killer.”
“Take it.”
“I’m not—”
“Take the gun.” With an irritated grunt, I took the pistol. But I had no intention to use it.
“You have morals. They’re going to get your people killed.”
“No. That blood is on your hands,” I said, marching to the door. “Maybe you have good
intentions. Maybe you will make Kingsholm a better place. But you would do anything to take
control of the city. You already sacrificed your daughter to achieve that end. Are you really
willing to sacrifice a whole way of life for power?”
An unreadable mix of emotions washed over William’s face. Whatever he felt, it stunned
him enough to stay silent. And it was just as well. I didn’t want to hear another word out of his
mouth.
Burn It to the Ground

After our last conversation, William refused to talk to me. It should come as no surprise
really. I accused him of sacrificing his daughter for power. There could be no greater insult on
the day of her funeral.
But it was all part of the plan. No doubt, William already felt guilty. I wanted him to face
that guilt, stew on it, and aim to redeem himself. Redemption, of course, meant saving my
village. Nothing could bring Priss back, but saving dozens from imminent danger would
certainly soften his hurt.
Maybe it was a bad plan. I didn’t really think it through. Also, it didn’t appear to be working.
I tried approaching William the next day, but as soon as he saw me, he turned and walked away.
I visited his office, where I knew he was hiding. But the door was locked, and he would not
answer.
This was all part of the stewing phase, or so I tried to assure myself. But time was limited.
Two days remained before the invasion. I needed to make a decision quick. Either I returned to
the village to join the fight or I traveled to the upper city to talk to Scarlet. Both options were
hopeless.
Of course, there was a third option, one that did not involve talking. I still had William’s
pistol in my jacket. John showed me how to use it. Neither he nor the others suggested I kill
Scarlet. But for my safety, they taught me the basics. I just wanted to get rid of it. I wasn’t
capable of shooting a deer let alone a human being. William was right. I had morals.
In any case, I grew tired of waiting. After one last supper with the rebels, I decided to gather
my belongings and find Scarlet in the Blossom Tower. The guys wished me luck. I knew I’d
my belongings and find Scarlet in the Blossom Tower. The guys wished me luck. I knew I’d
need it.
When I returned to my room, I was surprised to see William sitting on the bed. He had news.
Maybe even good news.
“I have received word from my contacts in the upper city,” he said. “Scarlet’s forces are
preparing for battle. They will leave at dawn.”
“But it hasn’t been a week yet,” I said. “Scarlet said a week.”
William shrugged. “She lied.” He stood up with an exhausted sigh. “You know what must be
done. I will give you a head start.”
“Let me use one of the repaired lifts. I’ll get there faster,” I said.
He shook his head. “I can’t do that. For our assault to succeed, we need the element of
surprise,” he said.
“Then I won’t make it in time to prevent the invasion.”
“You won’t. All you can do is trust in the strength of your people,” William said. He tugged
his wool hat over his ears and pushed his glasses up his nose. “If your people can defend
themselves long enough, then you can stop her before their fate is sealed.”
“It’s not enough,” I said.
“Let’s hope it is,” he said, walking away.
“It’s not enough,” I said again, firmer.
William stopped and forced a shaky smile. “Go on, Dekanawida. Time is short.” With that,
he strode down the hall and disappeared.
There was no time to complain about William’s lack of empathy and the failure of my plan. I
had to find the staircase Priss showed me. On the way, I tried to calculate the time it would take
had to find the staircase Priss showed me. On the way, I tried to calculate the time it would take
to reach Scarlet. Even if no one stopped me, even if Scarlet was in her penthouse, there wasn’t
enough time.
I raced through the Bellows. My long hair jostled against my shoulders as I bolted through
the dim, blue streets. A soft, cleansing rain trickled down from the hazy sky. Thick puddles of
grease loosened and swept into the sewer. Above, the gloom lifted enough to see the upper city
sparkle. All of Kingsholm glittered as vibrant, neon lights caught in the falling droplets. There
really was beauty buried beneath the grime of the Bellows. If only I had time to admire it.
Once I reached the staircase, I bounded up two steps at a time. Night had already sunk over
the city, and there was still a long journey to go. My heart thumped in my chest, and my lungs
quaked with exertion. There was no time to waste.
In the upper city, I could not run. It would only draw attention to myself. And if the
authorities found a gun on me, I’d end up in the prison again. When I reached the marketplace, I
slipped into the crowd of perfumed nobles. They were lost in drinking and feasting. Gleeful
music pounded from speakers all around. They danced without a care for anything or anyone. It
was easy to go unnoticed.
I continued down a lengthy string of halls and bridges. I scurried past frothing fountains and
electric blue chandeliers. With time, the way spiraled towards the Blossom Tower, whose stone
petals were bathed in rosy light. But I had taken this path before. I knew it took hours.
While I trekked through the upper city, I gazed out of the tinted windows. Stars glimmered
blue and red. I watched them dance across the sky, moving like a herd. They weren’t stars. They
were aircraft, dozens of them. And I knew where they were going.
But as many aircraft that ventured from the city, twice as many hovered around the tower.
But as many aircraft that ventured from the city, twice as many hovered around the tower.
And throughout the halls, a vast number of soldiers patrolled. My village was doomed, surely.
But perhaps so were the rebels.
Dawn broke as I reached the Blossom Tower. Soldiers shuffled around, and cameras pointed
from every corner. But no one stopped me. I was lucky.
Having found the white-walled elevator to Scarlet’s penthouse, I pressed the top button on
the panel. A second panel opened up, and I racked my brain to remember the code. I hadn’t
noticed it before, but there was another camera in the elevator. Next to the lens, a red light
flashed.
The code. The code, I thought, tapping my noggin. I saw the guard enter it. It was five digits.
3-1-4-6-5? 3-1-4-5-6? No. 3-1-4-5-7? Yeah. That was it. I entered the code, and to my relief, the
elevator started to climb.
Higher and higher, the elevator raced. While I waited for the room to slow, my heart
twitched and throbbed. This was my tribe’s last hope. If I failed now, there was no saving my
people.
When at last the elevator slowed to a stop, the doors opened. Standing before me with a red
drink in her hand was Scarlet. “Hello Dekanawida,” she said. Her plump lips spread into a
mischievous grin.
Below, the Alguin tribe prepared to greet its invaders. I can’t say for sure what happened. I
can only tell you the story as it was told to me by Okwaho. No doubt, the truth was bent and
embellished by my brother. But in honor of the brave tribesmen that gave their lives, I will let
his tall tale stand tall.

Okwaho expected Scarlet to betray her word. Out of all the pale outsiders he knew, he
trusted her least of all. So he made sure preparations were completed ahead of time. The forest
road was forged, and traps were laid. They had only one night to rest. But at least they wouldn’t
be caught off guard.
Some time after dawn aircraft buzzed overhead. From their point of view, the village was
empty. No men toiled in the fields. No children played by the river. The area was abandoned. So
they set down outside of the woods. They would take the forest path just as Okwaho had
planned.
For some time, the city folk stood outside the road. They talked among each other and into
some mechanical box. No doubt, Scarlet’s attack dogs needed permission before they scampered
ahead. When they got the okay from their master, the soldiers rode ahead in a line of armored
cars. Our scouts reported a dozen vehicles, each filled with four men. Roughly twenty more
soldiers remained outside to guard the aircraft.
Yes, the invaders outnumbered our tribe. But we had the element of surprise. We could pick
them off one by one before they knew what hit them.
The convoy of armored vehicles proceeded cautiously down the road. They had no clue what
lurked in the trees. They could not guess what mischief lay before them, and slipped behind
them.
Once the cars had entered far enough into the village, a small band of tribesmen got to work.
Together they hauled a fallen tree across the road. Now there was no turning back. To escape the
forest, the pale invaders had to push ahead. But the way forward only promised them more pain.
For some time, their drive was peaceful. They listened to the pleasant crack of branches
For some time, their drive was peaceful. They listened to the pleasant crack of branches
beneath their wheels and the crunch of trodden leaves. It never occurred to them to fear these
sounds, not until it was too late.
Halfway through the forest, the convoy hit its first ditch. The first car tumbled headfirst into
the trap. Honed spikes stabbed through the windshield, spearing the driver through the chest. A
second stake gored a man just above the waist. Without proper medical care, the injury was
fatal.
For the moment, Okwaho and his men simply watched from the trees. They waited to see
what the soldiers would do. To their amusement, the soldiers emptied their cars and stared at the
shadowy forest. Their eyes widened, and their grips tightened around their guns. Fear was
sinking in.
Bows were readied, and arrows were nocked. But Okwaho told the others to wait. He
watched the pale invaders inspect the ditch and recover their injured comrade. From one of the
vehicles, they grabbed a thick, metal sheet. As they threw it over the ditch, it expanded into a
steel bridge, allowing the convoy to pass. One by one, the city folk returned to their cars.
Okwaho nodded to Tsiokwaris on the branch beside him. Black Raven drew his bow, aimed,
and loosed an arrow all in one breath. The fletched arrow whistled towards its target: an
invader’s blond head. At once, the man dropped to the ground.
The city soldiers hesitated for a moment, uncertain what had happened. They stood and
gawked at their comrade’s body. It didn’t make sense to them. After all those years of comfort
and luxury, the men of Kingsholm had grown dull and arrogant. They didn’t know what it meant
to be hunted.
As the invaders shouted in fear, Okwaho whistled loud and shrill. The Alguin tribe began its
As the invaders shouted in fear, Okwaho whistled loud and shrill. The Alguin tribe began its
attack. Arrows screamed through the forest. They picked off soldiers one after another until
blood painted the road.
The first car in the convoy sped forward. The second followed close after. But only twenty
yards ahead lay another ditch. Both cars tumbled inside.
The cars at the end of the convoy turned around to escape the forest. But it wasn’t long
before they came face-to-face with a fallen tree blocking the road. Given the girth of the trunk,
they could not drive over it. A couple men exited their cars to push the tree out of the way. But
as soon as they approached the roadblock, arrows pierced their chests.
Cornered and desperate, the invaders lashed out. They emptied their guns on the forest. Bark
splintered, and leaves fell. The stench of gunpowder rose from their smoking barrels. But our
people were safe. They could not see Okwaho or his men camouflaged amid the trees.
Scarlet pursed her lips and placed her hand on her hip. “You know,” she said, “You are a bad
man for making me wait so long to see you.”
“You expected me to come?” I asked.
She took a long sip of the dark drink in her hand. “I had a feeling.” With a tender finger, she
wiped the liquid from her lips. As I watched her, she smirked. “But who knows? Maybe I just
wanted to see your pretty face again.”
I shrugged off the compliment and furrowed my brow in a display of conviction. “I came to
arrange a peace deal.”
Scarlet covered her mouth and giggled girlishly. She turned around and sauntered to the end
of the room. There she sat behind a glass desk. “Come. Sit,” she said. “Can I get you something
of the room. There she sat behind a glass desk. “Come. Sit,” she said. “Can I get you something
to drink?”
“I came here to —”
“Yes, I heard you the first time,” Scarlet said with a groan. “Why can’t we just relax
together? I have some wine in the bedroom if you’re interested. We don’t need to talk business
so soon.”
There was no time to relax or chat over drinks. The battle had already begun. The more
Scarlet delayed, the more lives it would cost. I couldn’t afford to tolerate her wishes. If my hard
gaze didn’t make it obvious, the lingering silence must have.
Once again, Scarlet groaned. She downed her drink and placed the glass on the desk. “Such
a serious man,” she said. “But very well. This should be a rather quick discussion. Maybe we
can enjoy ourselves afterwards.”
“Leave my tribe alone.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Scarlet said. Disappointed, she shook her head. “Don’t you see,
Dekanawida? You have no leverage over me. You have nothing to offer me and nothing to
threaten me with.”
That was not entirely true. But I didn’t want it to come to that.
“What did you expect?” Scarlet continued. “That I would call off the attack out of the
goodness in my heart?”
“There is still a chance that our people can work together. Violence isn’t the only way
forward,” I said.
She shook her head. “Dear, you’ve already showed your hand by coming here. If your
people had chosen to relocate or accepted the city’s rule, you would not be here. That can only
people had chosen to relocate or accepted the city’s rule, you would not be here. That can only
mean that your people have chosen violence.”
“I never said that.”
Amused, Scarlet snorted and smiled. “You didn’t need to,” she said.
“It’s not fair. We did not provoke you. We did not attack you. My people have done nothing
to deserve this,” I said.
“Perhaps you’re right, but the world is not fair. It is a hard truth every man must learn.”
Irritated, I strode towards the desk. I placed my hands on the glass and leaned towards
Scarlet in an attempt to appear menacing. “If you stop, there will be no battle and no violence. If
my people stop, we lose everything. When blood is spilled, it will be on your hands. But it
doesn’t have to be that way. You have the power to stop all this.”
Scarlet leaned towards me so our faces were only inches apart. “That’s right. I have the
power,” she said. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. The hem of her sleek, red
dress crept up her pale thighs. As Scarlet looked at me, she chewed on the end of her nail. “Let
me tell you what will happen. My soldiers will enter your village. If your people should attack
us, then I will have them slaughtered. If, by some miracle, you defend yourself from the first
wave of soldiers, then I will send another. The only hope your people have is surrender. Have
you come to surrender?”
“No.”
“That option is still open to you,” Scarlet said. She reached for a small, metallic box on her
desk. She waved it in front of my face. Its glass screen lit with vibrant colors and flashing
numbers. “I can call my soldiers right now. They’ll let you talk to your brother or your elder or
whomever. Arrange a surrender. Save your people.”

I glared at Scarlet. She was right. I had no leverage over her. But I knew my people better
than Scarlet. They would not surrender. They were done running. They were done hiding. The
Alguin tribe would fight even if it ended in its own destruction.
While a tense silence spread between Scarlet and me, a red light flared on the box in her
hand. The device buzzed, and then with the press of a button, a voice spoke.
“Lady Wright, they have trapped us in the forest. We are under attack. They are fighting
from the trees,” the voice said.
Scarlet looked at me with engorged, blue eyes. She smirked and then spoke into the box.
“Burn it the ground.”

Corruption
Under the relentless barrage of arrows, the pale invaders had no choice but to shelter in their
armored cars. The thick glass protected them. But none of that changed the fact they were
cornered. Okwaho’s plan had worked. Now the soldiers had two choices: surrender or risk death
and run into the open.
Brother scanned the forest closely. Not a single Alguin soul had suffered an injury. But
dozens of Scarlet’s men lay dead on the dirt road. Dark pools of blood spread far and wide. And
the forest greenery was stained by specks of red.
A silence filled the forest, a calm that belied the violence to come. But Okwaho took
confidence in the quiet. To him, it was the sound of Kingsholm coming to terms with its failure.
But a new sound filled the void. It was a low hum from far off. And the sound was growing,
second by second. Before long, the green canopy trembled beneath the roar of engines. A fell
wind shook the treetops, and leaves tumbled to the forest floor.
Okwaho stared up through the gaps in the trees. Sleek, white aircraft hovered in the sky
above. Even from that angle, they could not see our tribesmen. And they definitely couldn’t land
among the branches. So what was their plan?
It took Lone Wolf a moment to understood. But by the time he did, it was too late to warn
the others.
The sky screamed in a blaze of orange and white as hellfire rained down from above. The
trees quaked and gave way to intense waves of heat. The air split, and the wind was furious with
the stench of ash and iron.
Blast after blast rocked the forest until all the world was cloaked in clouds of smoke.
Blast after blast rocked the forest until all the world was cloaked in clouds of smoke.
Okwaho tumbled out of his tree and fell hard on his back. Tsiokwaris fell beside him. His face
was singed black, and his eyes were vacant.
Red flames spread from bough to broken bough. White smoke filled the canopy. And the
green leaves burned to cinder. There was nowhere to hide now. The Alguin tribe had to flee.
Okwaho called out for our people. They couldn’t stay and burn with the forest. They had to
run while the smoke covered their retreat. But Okwaho couldn’t hear his tribesmen, not even as
they screamed for him. He could not hear the bullets whistle past him. He couldn’t even hear
himself. All he heard was a shrill ringing in his ears.
“What was that?” I asked. “What did you do?”
Scarlet arched her eyebrow and fixed a brilliant, blue gaze on me. “What does it sound like?
It’s only what I expected,” she said. “Your people attacked ours from the trees. By the sound of
it, they did quite the number on us. You should be proud of their cunning and their bravery. But
if your strategy is to fight from the trees, then we will destroy the trees. There will be no place
for them to hide.”
I could not imagine the destruction. For all my life, the forest was alive and green. It danced
in the wind and sang with the call of birds and beasts. My mind could not create images of ash
and ruin. It could not see smoke rising or timber smoldering. It could not imagine death in a
place that had known only life.
Even so, Scarlet’s words awakened something inside me: a horrible sensation that shook in
my bones. It was dread and desperation, anger and grief, horror and shame. I remembered the
pistol in my jacket. But I couldn’t bring myself to use it.

“Call off the attack,” I said. I hardened my voice and furrowed my brow. But Scarlet would
not take me seriously.
“My dear, we can shout and argue. We can bargain and debate. But by the time we finish,
the battle will already be over. No matter how brave your people are, no matter how strong,
there is only one way this can end,” Scarlet said. She sighed and stroked her hair. “Don’t kid
yourself, Dekanawida. You knew you couldn’t change the inevitable. So what led you here?
Optimism? Duty?”
I reached into my jacket and pulled out the pistol. My fingers trembled as they tightened
around the weapon. I don’t know what I feared more: using the weapon or what would happen if
I didn’t?
“Ah, so that’s it then,” Scarlet said. Her eyes widened, but her expression remained calm and
in control. “I assume the rebels gave you that.”
“They did,” I said.
She snorted and crossed her arms. “Those cowards can’t do anything themselves, can they?”
“They didn’t send me here to kill you,” I said. “They merely suggested it.”
Scarlet chuckled to herself. “Not much of a difference if you ask me,” she said. A thread of
hair fell over her eyes. But with a flick of her head, she set it back in place. “And why would
they suggest it? No doubt, it would help their cause. But I don’t think that’s it. No. They sent
your brother, and what a failure that was! They suggested it for your benefit, not for their own.
You asked them to help defend your village. Is that it?”
I didn’t bother answering. What was the point? Scarlet could read the truth in my eyes.
“They said no I presume.” She chuckled again. “I bet that Lundergan fellow told you the
“They said no I presume.” She chuckled again. “I bet that Lundergan fellow told you the
most awful things about me. I, the Theft Queen, am a selfish tyrant fueled by an undying lust for
all things. Right?”
I said nothing. Scarlet wasn’t even paying attention to me anymore. Her focused gaze drifted
outside to the glistening city and the shifting seas of smog below.
“But he is no better than me, Dekanawida,” she continued. “He claims to fight for the
oppressed. But when you come seeking help for your tribe, he leaves you to die alone. He won’t
spare a soldier. He won’t stray from his righteous mission against me. Instead, he suggests you
dirty your own hands.”
Scarlet was right. Even if her intentions were cruel, at least she was honest. Scarlet did not
deny what she wanted and why she wanted it. She did not pretend. But William painted himself
as a savior on a holy mission. He could not compromise. He could not stray. Nothing was more
important than his ambitions.
Still, it made no difference. I could not change William just as I could not change Scarlet.
The only person I could control was myself. It was up to me to make the decisions that needed
to be made.
“I don’t want to kill you,” I said.
“No, I don’t think you do,” Scarlet said. “If I did, I would not have allowed you in here.”
I switched off the safety on the pistol. But Scarlet watched with an amused look on her face.
She knew the truth as well as I did. I was no killer, and she was in no danger.
As Okwaho pushed himself to his feet, sound slowly washed back into his ears. But he
almost wished it hadn’t. All around was the crackle of fire and the tortured moans of our people.
almost wished it hadn’t. All around was the crackle of fire and the tortured moans of our people.
Somewhere in the distance, the forest boomed.
Okwaho huddled behind a girthy oak now black with soot. He looked up. Dust and cinder
drifted down from the sky. He looked at the forest road. Silhouettes shifted through the white
walls of smoke. They were approaching.
“To the village! To the village!” brother shouted. He slung his bow over his shoulder and
pushed ahead with a spear in his hand. He could not see the other tribesmen through the smoke.
But he hoped they had heard him.
Once Okwaho started running, he felt a stubborn pang in his side. He glanced down and
noticed a hole in his deerskin tunic. The bare skin was singed pink. But he thought nothing of it.
Compared to Black Raven, he had gotten off easy.
While he jogged through the spreading smoke, Okwaho made out the approaching figure of
a man. In the haze, he could not tell which side the man belonged to. But it became clear enough
when the man pointed a gun in his direction.
Okwaho sprinted towards the man in a zigzag pattern. The soldier fired two shots. Both
missed Okwaho entirely. And just as the soldier aimed a third shot at his face, Okwaho speared
the man through the chest. The soldier let out an agonizing scream. The sound would draw
others to him. He had to keep moving.
But Okwaho had barely taken three steps before he tripped over a body. Blood stained his
hands and knees. It was still warm.
As he pushed himself to his feet, Okwaho looked at the body. It belonged to one of his own.
In fact, it was Elder Hiawatha. The old man’s stare was cold and dim. A splatter of red marked
his face.
For a moment, Lone Wolf felt ashamed. It was his decision to fight, not the elder’s. He had
gotten the old man killed.
But that wasn’t true at all. It wasn’t only his decision to fight, and death was always a
necessity in war. There was no guilt on his conscience.
Even so, Okwaho stood still above the elder’s body. In place of shame, he felt fear. He stared
at the corpse and thought of father. War was a young man’s game. And if the battle took the
elder, it could take our father too. If only he knew what had become of him.
Lost in thought, Okwaho did not see the soldiers approach behind him. His only clue of their
approach was the crack of fallen branches underfoot. As soon as he heard the noise, he bolted
forward and away.
Behind him came another crack, and Okwaho felt something bite his calf. But the blood
roaring in his ears distracted him from the blood streaming down his leg. It wasn’t until Okwaho
reached the village that he realized a soldier had shot him.
And though the wound filled with fiery pain, brother couldn’t dwell on it. Other villagers
were arriving from the smoking forest. They needed leadership. Okwaho was their strength. He
could not show weakness.
Akwiraron led one group into the village. He was bleeding from a hole in his arm, and his
face was charred on one side. The men beside him were in no better shape.
“Into the huts,” Okwaho said. “We need to find cover.” At once, the villagers listened to his
words. They sprinted towards the huts, hoping they could offer some refuge.
But there was no cover they could take from the city’s aircrafts. As one zoomed overhead, it
bombed the village with hateful fire. Panicked, the people scattered every which way. They
bombed the village with hateful fire. Panicked, the people scattered every which way. They
knew as well as Okwaho that there was nowhere to hide.
While he searched for a strategic position to fight, brother spotted our father behind a trio of
boulders. The fear was plain on the old man’s face. We were never warriors.
From out of the forest, two soldiers marched with rifles in their hands. With a roar on his
breath, Akwiraron charged them head-on. But the soldiers filled him with bullets before he could
even swing his spear.
The soldiers pressed forward. They were only a few yards from father. Just a couple more
steps and they’d see him. Okwaho would not let that happen.
He dashed towards the soldiers with long, erratic strides. As they fired their guns, he dipped
and dodged out of the way. Closing in, Okwaho cut down the first soldier and used his body as a
shield. When he was close enough to the second soldier, Okwaho threw the body at him. The
soldier fell onto his back, allowing Okwaho to finish him with ease.
Grabbing one of their guns, Okwaho joined father behind the outcrop. “You need to get out
of here,” he said. “It’s not safe here for you.”
“It’s not safe for you either,” father said.
Okwaho peeked over the boulders. Dozens of soldiers were entering the village. In a
moment, they would be surrounded. Then neither of them would be able to escape.
“Father, get out of here. I will distract them.”
He shook his head. “I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for me. You are the future of this
tribe. The young shouldn’t die for the old.”
“I’m not going to argue with you. Get out of here,” Okwaho said. “I will draw their
attention. You run.”

“Okwaho, no!”
But he had already hopped over the boulders. Screaming wildly, Lone Wolf trained his rifle
on the city soldiers. But there were too many. He could not kill them all. He could not survive.
“Let us speak plainly, dear Dekanawida,” Scarlet said. She rose from her chair and strode
towards him. The pistol meant nothing to her. “You have three options. Option one: you kill me.
If your people survive the first wave of soldiers, there will be no one to order a second. Maybe
your frightened rebel friends will come out of their hole to take control in my absence.” She
stared down the barrel of the gun. A smirk lit on her pale face. “Option two: I kill you. We both
know I do not want that. You are a good man. Charming. Brave. But I cannot let someone
openly challenge my rule.” Scarlet slipped around me. Her hands appeared on my shoulders.
“Option three: you join me. I can find a place for you here. Your village may not survive this,
but you can.”
I shook off her touch and whirled around. No matter how sweet her words or fair her
appearance, I would not let Scarlet twist my thoughts. I had to decide for myself what was right.
“I won’t let you do to my village what you did to the Bellows,” I said. The pistol remained
trained on her chest.
She snorted. “And what have I done to those rats?”
“There is a sickness there. It chokes them much like the smog that infects the air. Anger and
greed has poisoned the city.”
“Ah, so you’ve come to the source? Is that it?” Scarlet said. She arched her eyebrow and
looked me up and down. Her pointed gaze had lost its charm. “Well, you can cleanse the
looked me up and down. Her pointed gaze had lost its charm. “Well, you can cleanse the
Bellows of that poison by killing me. But you will never purify the city. Greed and hatred are a
part of man. It will always grow in the city so long as there are people here.”
“Then I will be here to cleanse that sickness wherever it springs up,” I said. My hands
dropped to my side. “We must find harmony in life. Between the city and the forest, the upper
city and the lower city. We must find a way to live together.”
Scarlet’s rosy lips curled into a snarl. “No. Where there is pain, there can never be balance,”
she said. “You cannot wash away corruption for good. You can only move it somewhere else.
And where will it go if you heal this city? Where will it go if you save your tribe?” She crossed
her arms. “It will go on your shoulders. This foolish quest has already taken so much from you,
hasn’t it? And that is not the end. If you want to see this journey to the end, you will have to
sacrifice your morals. You will have to kill me.”
There was nothing I could say, so I only sighed. Scarlet was right. I had already lost so
much. I didn’t want to lose anymore.
Scarlet took a step forward. I raised the pistol. But she walked towards me regardless. “You
don’t have it in you,” she said in a silky tone. “You aren’t a killer. That isn’t you.”
She reached out her hands to touch my face, and I let her. The pistol pressed against her
breast, but Scarlet pretended not to notice. Her brilliant, blue eyes held mine in a tender gaze.
Her plump lips pursed. My heart pounded.
As our faces neared one another, Scarlet slid her hand down my chest. Her fingers climbed
up my arm almost without notice. A pleasant smile filled Scarlet’s face. Soon her hand wrapped
around the barrel of the gun.
A deafening bang filled the room. The smile on Scarlet’s face faltered, and the blush fled her
A deafening bang filled the room. The smile on Scarlet’s face faltered, and the blush fled her
cheeks. She looked down at her chest and the smoking gun. We were both in disbelief.
In a matter of seconds, Scarlet’s strength left her body. As she fell into my arms, I gently
lowered her to the floor. While her eyes fluttered weakly, I set down the gun and held her close.
Scarlet looked up at me. Another smile flashed on her lips. “You are a good man.” Her voice
was weak. “It’s not so bad to die at the hands of a man like you.” Her head fell against my chest.
She would not raise it again.
Lone Wolf stood against the city’s army. Dozens of guns pointed at him. In an instant, it
would all be over for him. But it was a sacrifice Okwaho would make a thousand times over. His
death was a fair price to pay for the life of our tribe and our father.
Guns blasted, and the air filled with the bitterness of ash and smoke. Okwaho flinched but
did not fall. Before him, Scarlet’s men toppled over. But Okwaho had not fired a shot.
A line of rusted cars and dusty trucks rode into the village. The men inside wore raggedy
clothes and stained masks. Some still had red stripes dyed into their hair.
The ragtag group buzzed around the village in search of Scarlet’s men. With enthusiastic
howls, they chased the invaders into the smoldering woods and eliminated them. All the while,
Okwaho stood gawking.
When the final shot faded into silence, a green truck pulled in front of Okwaho. The driver
stepped outside and greeted him with a reserved smile. It was William Lundergan.
New Beginnings
By the time I made it to the Bellows, William and the rebels had returned. The blood on our
clothes made it clear what each of us had done. William and I exchanged a long silence and a
look of mutual respect. We had each made sacrifices and done what the other could not.
The rebels had a long fight ahead of them. Even in disarray, the upper city would not submit
without a fight. There were hard battles to be fought and inner struggles to resolve. But I had
given the rebels a chance.
Begrudgingly, William approached me. “I thought about what you said. I thought long and
hard,” he said. He tugged the hat over his ears. A new light sparkled in his eyes. “You were
right. I was greedy.”
“I appreciate what you did,” I said.
“I want you to know I signed a pact with your brother,” William said. “When we take
control of the city, we will leave your village be. But if any of your people wish to live in the
city, they are welcome. We will find a place for them.”
“That’s nice of you,” I said with a grin. “Priss would be proud of the choices you’ve made.”
He nodded with a sad smile. Although he did not say it, I sensed that was all he wanted to
hear. Sighing, William patted me on the shoulder.
“There is a lot for me to do, but I hope we’ll see each other again,” William said.
“Yeah, me too,” I said.
Before turning away, William stopped. “And thank you for what you did,” he said. He
looked at the red stains on my shirt. “It shouldn’t have been you. But …”
I nodded. “But it was.” And I had to make peace with that. “Take care, William.”
I donned my mask and passed into the swirling smog of the Bellows. The toxic haze seeped
through the fabric of my mask. But today the foul scent was not so foul. Something had changed
in the air. And through the rolling, gray clouds, I saw a sliver of blue.
As I left Kingsholm, the sliver of blue expanded into a brilliant, summer sky. There wasn’t a
single cloud in the sky, only the sun shining yellow and bright. And across the wasteland, no
wind blew. The orange sands lay quiet and still.
But when I looked towards the forest, I saw an unrecognizable landscape of scorched earth.
Ribbons of smoke rose from toppled trees, and white ash spun in the breeze. The green world I
knew was gone. I only hoped our tribe had escaped the destruction.
Despite the brutal imagery, I had a good feeling about the future. The smoke would clear, the
trees would grow, and our people would rebuild. A tribe is not a place. It is a people. So long as
the Alguin people lived, our way of life would carry on.
While I strode across the orange expanse, I let myself slip into a daydream. Father was in
the cornfield, tending to his crop. Sweat was on his brow, but he smiled from the pleasure of a
hard day’s work. Brother was tracking deer in the forest. His expression was proud and focused.
Children splashed in the river. Their mothers watched with gleeful smiles. That was how life
was supposed to be in the village.
The images came so easy. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not imagine myself among
the tribe. I was too old for playing in the river, and I knew little of hunting or farming. There
was no going back to the carefree days of childhood. But I couldn’t say what lay ahead.
I fell asleep among the dunes of orange dirt. My rest was peaceful and dreamless. I woke to
a soft, blue dawn and sand in my hair. The smoke had cleared from the forest, and a breeze
a soft, blue dawn and sand in my hair. The smoke had cleared from the forest, and a breeze
wandered across the barren landscape. It was a pleasant morning. On any other day, I might
have rested a while to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere. But I had half a day’s journey ahead of
me. So I dusted myself off and headed for the forest.
Well, “forest” is a generous term. “Ruins” might be more accurate. Shattered timber and
blankets of ash buried the forest floor. Blackened branches lay in heaps, and shriveled, white
leaves rolled across the game trails.
Okwaho’s road offered a clear path to the village, but even that was covered in debris.
Broken glass and warped metal were strewn everywhere. Snapped arrows and fired bullets sat
beside bloody bodies of dark and pale skin. I spied ditches lined with spikes. They had
swallowed more than a few of the city’s cars.
It was all frightening to look at, and I considered myself lucky to have escaped the battle.
But another part of me felt guilt. While my people fought, I went for a stroll through the city.
While they fell in droves, I chatted with a pretty girl in her apartment. We had each played our
part, but their part was fraught with pain and blood. It wasn’t fair.
As I stepped around the mounds of bombarded wood and scorched metal, I saw something
that made me smile: green sprouts. Despite the torture the forest had endured, grass was growing
and leaves were filling the trees. The forest would recover, and maybe the Alguin tribe would
too.
I returned to the village around midday. Men repaired the huts. Women tended to the
wounded. Children ran around as if nothing had happened. Every person was busy in their own
way. In fact, they were so busy they didn’t even notice me.
So I wandered among my tribesmen, counting their numbers, searching for faces. I saw
So I wandered among my tribesmen, counting their numbers, searching for faces. I saw
Bear. I saw Kahwihta. In the distance, I spotted Adsila. Not far off was Okwaho barking orders.
But there was a palpable emptiness in the village and the lingering scent of iron in the air. I
breathed it in with a shudder.
While I stared around the village, I saw my father at the top of the hill. He carried a beam of
wood on his shoulder and a weary expression on his face. But as soon as he saw me, he grinned
from ear to ear. He dropped the beam of wood in the middle of the path and strode towards me. I
couldn’t help but smile and laugh.
We met each other with a tight embrace. “I am so proud of you,” he said. “I don’t know what
you did. I don’t know what you said to that William fellow. But you saved us all, my boy.”
I squeezed father tight. “I’m just glad you are okay.”
He pulled me to arm’s length and nodded. “Not everyone was so lucky.”
Finally, the other villagers lifted their heads from their work. Adsila and Bear scurried over.
Okwaho watched me from a distance. He smiled for a moment.
When Adsila came towards me, she wrapped me in a tight embrace. “Thank you for what
you did,” she said. “We would have not have survived if not for you and the rebels.” When she
pulled away from me, her eyes lingered on my stained shirt. “What’s this? Are you hurt?” Father
and Bear looked at me with the same confused expression.
They didn’t know. Did brother? Surely, the rebels must have mentioned it when they signed
a pact with him. Whatever the case, I had to tell them.
“Scarlet is dead,” I said in a small voice. “She won’t hurt you anymore. You don’t need to
worry.”
“Did you …?” Adsila asked. I nodded.

“You did the right thing,” Bear said. I appreciated his good intentions, but his words did
little to comfort me. He didn’t know Scarlet. He had never visited Kingsholm. He didn’t know
what choices I had, so how could he know which choice was correct?
“I didn’t want to do it,” I said. Father set his hand on my shoulder and bowed his head. “But
she told me what would happen if I didn’t. She told me what my options were. I couldn’t let her
go.”
“A lot of us have done things we are not proud of these past couple of days,” father said.
“But you did what you thought necessary. You did it for us, and we are better for it. None of us
here will judge you for that.”
Okwaho walked towards us with his arms crossed and his chin tilted towards the sky. He
grunted in reluctant agreement. “She needed to go,” he said. “The rebels will take control of the
city because of you.” It was a good thing, but the negative tone in his voice suggested otherwise.
“We’re safe now,” I said.
Okwaho snorted. “Why? Because of a couple words on a piece of paper?” he said. “The city
will always be a threat to us. We have bought ourselves peace for the moment, but we need to
stay prepared. If we are to protect this way of life, we must study the city and learn their
capabilities so they can never be used against us.”
Bear nodded his head. But Adsila and father sighed. It was too soon to think about battle
again. Our people deserved to enjoy peace no matter how long it lasted. We needed to rebuild,
recover, and begin again.
Once I returned to our hut, I changed back into my deerskin attire. I thought it would feel
Once I returned to our hut, I changed back into my deerskin attire. I thought it would feel
good to put it on again. Now I wouldn’t stick out from the other villagers. Now I would belong.
But my clothes didn’t fit like they used to. Before, the deerskin tunic was loose and
movable. Now it clung to my body and restrained my movements. I guess I had grown without
knowing it. Even if they were more comfortable, I decided not to stay in my city clothes. I just
wanted to go back to the way things were.
Determined to bring the village back to its former glory, I bounced around to see where I
was needed. I helped Adsila clear debris from her farm. I helped Bear round up some pigs. And
I even helped Okwaho gather the weapons left by Kingsholm’s soldiers.
In the evening, we honored the dead with drink and song. We gathered around a pyre where
their bodies lay, and prayed for the Wise One to guide their souls to the verdant plains beyond.
The fire’s sparks rose high into the sky, where they sparkled among the glittering stars. We sat
awhile watching the flames dance. And as the night thickened, a cleansing calm fell over us all.
By morning, the village looked almost normal. The Alguin tribe laughed and smiled from
the simple pleasures of life. Okwaho got a large buck on his morning hunt. The people cheered
as he dragged it into the village. And someone else had picked a giant carrot. By the looks of it,
it was a three foot long monster of a vegetable. The tribesmen gathered around it patting each
other on the back. They argued over when to eat it and how to cook it. There was so much of it
they could each make their own recipe.
While I watched the tribe abuzz with excitement, I smiled softly. I had seen so much the past
week: talking holograms, dazzling light shows, and towers that scraped the sky. In comparison, a
deer and a carrot seemed so small and insignificant. I just couldn’t relate anymore.
But I took comfort in my people’s mood. Despite all the horrors they had faced, they could
But I took comfort in my people’s mood. Despite all the horrors they had faced, they could
still find joy. They would be okay. I was sure of it, and I was happy for them.
There was still work to be done in the village. For one, we needed to elect a new leader. It
shouldn’t come as a surprise, but the people chose Okwaho. He had led them through battle. He
could lead them through anything. And brother seemed happy to accept the position. Something
told me he had always wished to lead the pack. Under his direction, reconstruction finished
swiftly and without incident.
In the mean time, I joined father in the field. No matter what happened in the world, people
would always need food. He taught me how to prune and how to plant, when to reap and when
to sow. I can’t say it interested me. But I enjoyed spending time with father nonetheless.
While we puttered around the farm, father chatted about weather and childhood memories. I
listened to him as I always did. He was full of wisdoms, and I respected his every word. But I
found myself talking more than usual. I had more thoughts to communicate and experiences to
share. And when I spoke, father looked at me with a steady gaze. He looked at me as an equal,
and as a man.
One day, while we toiled in the corn fields, father talked to me about building my own hut.
“Some day,” he said, “You will want your own space and a place to start your own family.
Building was never my strongest skill. But there are some in the village that are quite talented
with their hands. Your brother is actually very handy.”
I nodded my head and grunted in agreement. But my gaze was lost in the distance. Through
the barren forest, I could see the glass structures of Kingsholm glittering in the sun. On most
occasions, a skirt of smog surrounded the city. Today, the air was clear and clean.
“You could settle by the forest,” father continued. “After the battle, there is a lot of space for
“You could settle by the forest,” father continued. “After the battle, there is a lot of space for
you to settle. You might even be able to sow some seeds and start your own farm.”
“Maybe,” I said in a half-hearted voice. I would have to do something. Everyone needed to
contribute to the village in some way. So I had to hunt or farm or develop some other skill. But
no matter how hard I racked my brain, I could not imagine myself among the Alguin tribe. I had
seen too much. I had traveled too far. For better or worse, I did not belong in the village
anymore.
Father followed my gaze to the city. He sighed from deep within his chest. “You won’t stay,
will you?” he said.
“I wanted to save the village,” I said. “And I have saved it, but not for me.”
“I see.” Father stood next to me and looked at the city beaming on the horizon. I knew he
did not see what I saw. To him, Kingsholm was a dangerous, alien world beyond understanding.
Surely he could not see the opportunities that waited there. Even so, he smiled.
“I’m sorry, father. I never wished to leave you, and I don’t wish to leave you now. But —”
“It’s okay,” he said. He placed his arm around my shoulder. “When your mother died, I was
overcome with sadness. But when that sadness dulled, something else took its place. It was
fear.” His eyes remained fixed on the horizon, and his smile spread wider across his wrinkled
face. “No parent is ever ready for the burden of raising a child. And I was terrified when I
realized I had to care for you and your brother by myself.”
“But you did.”
“But I did,” he agreed. “All I ever wanted was to see you two grow into strong, confident
adults. So, you see, I cannot be mad at you, Dekanawida. You are only proving that I have
succeeded as a father.”
“You won’t be sad to see me go?” I asked.
He chuckled to himself. “Of course I will. But you’re a man now. You must find your own
place in the world. And whether you’re with me or off on your own, I will be happy to know
that you have paved your own path.” I stared into the distance, saying nothing. Father patted my
shoulder. “Go on. You will be the best of us.”
And there it was. The phrase I had heard from him so many times before. Only this time, I
believed him.
So I left my home and my people behind. I donned my city clothes and set on the lonely
path through the beaten forest. And as my feet carried me across the ashen path, I remembered
the boy that had climbed the mountain not so long ago. The Wise One’s Tear was an
unreachable task, and childhood seemed a comfortable reality that knew no end. But he didn’t
know that it was already behind him, and the road not taken stretched far ahead.
When I reached the edge of the forest, I stopped and stared into the vast, orange obscurity. A
hot wind blew the dirt into a dusty haze. Not even the bright lights of Kingsholm were visible.
Still, I sensed in my chest what I could not sense in the past: a change. A new beginning. It
scared me then, and it scared me still. But I marched forward anyway, head held high, until the
shifting sands stretched far behind.
<<<<>>>>

The City in The Sands

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The City in The Sands

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The City in the Sands

The Wise One’s Tear

wasn’t a surprise really. Everyone knew I was lazy and weak.

was time. We agreed it would be a good warm-up.

Adsila was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“I know,” I said. “I didn’t forget. I just …”

least get some food in you.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

“Yeah …” I said. “But we can still go racing afterwards, right?”

“Yeah, if you don’t cheat this time!”

exception was made for my sake.

“I’m not ready,” I said.

sure you’ll do fine. Everyone passes the trial.”

“You say that, but what if you’re wrong?” I asked.

could not remember her voice either.

talisman. It will keep you safe. I know you were worried, so I …”

bothered me. “Father?”

“Where is brother?” I asked. “He promised to see me off.”

Featherbrow to become one family.

wisdom to be found in his words.

village in light and the other in shadow.

would announce my departure.

he said. “Although a simple one, it is indeed … hm …”

But brother was not among them.

Okwaho. Nonetheless, I nodded and said I understood.

“You will of course.”

and forget the whole day.

know what to say.

quiver slung over his shoulder. So far, he hadn’t caught anything.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said.

“Brother Wolf, I didn’t think you’d come. You promised —”

tying it in a strict bun topped with a hawk feather.

did it. So can you.”

even know what to expect of myself let alone the mountain.”

me hunting when you’re up there.”

the expression on his face was unreadable.

stairs into the hillside.

“Bird wings clasping

Singing, gasping, holding tight.

A feathered pair aflight in lust.”

company of friends and family.

anything I had seen or heard of.

chance to ask him.

passed his way.

and sped off in the direction of the city.

was determined to save him.

forge my own path down the mountain.

only thought was how to get down the mountain.

any chance of seeing him again, I needed to scale the cliff.

feet down. But to me it seemed like a thousand.

to my very core, filling me with dread.

back onto an ever-expanding sea of dust and earth.

vanished, and I forgot to look ahead.

realized I had fallen on top of a dead body.

most beautiful I had ever seen.

there. I was sure of it, but I had no idea where he went.

had not heard such sounds.

immediately trained on my face.

vehicle and stalked towards me.

“Uh hi,” I said. “What are those things in your hands?”

other had a long, crooked beak.

expression on her face.

didn’t find the coincidence funny.