The Dirt Eaters (19 page)

“And bring wealth to the citizens of Fairview,” says Roan, dismayed.

“Before Brack came to Fairview, it was ravaged. The people were starving, the buildings were ruined, the water was poisoned. His economic policies rebuilt this town. People are loyal to him. They do whatever he asks.”

Roan can't hide his disfavor. “And when this group of children is sent for adoption, how long till the next crop comes along?”

“Times vary. Some prospective parents want infants, others want older children.”

Alandra turns Roan's chair up a paved boulevard leading away from the Children's Home. Once they're a safe distance away, she speaks softly.

“It's a lie,” she whispers. “A few children may find homes, but the majority are sent to laboratories for experiments. The lucky ones are killed, their body parts used to replace the aging organs of the Masters of the City. I've been waiting for you to come. We have to save these children, take them away from here.”

Roan turns in his chair to see Alandra's face, to be sure she's serious.

“Please look straight ahead. Smile and nod as if I've said something amusing.”

Roan faces front and forces a smile. It's easy to forget that for all the welcoming faces, they are not among friends. He wonders if it's the same in Kira's village. The only children he saw there were in some way disabled, perhaps rendering them unfit for sale. What strange fortune.

“I returned here five years ago at Sari's behest, to take on this trusted role in the community. For those five years I've been healer to the mothers and the children, keeping them healthy for the cursed commerce. It was easier to watch my parents die. At least then I was too young to do anything, I was helpless. But now that you're here, my ordeal is over. The time for change has come. If you hadn't fallen into the Nether­vines, the operation would already be underway. But in a few days you'll be able to move freely and we can finally set the plan in motion.”

“What plan is that?”

“To take the children to the place we saw in the dream.”

“Alandra, we flew. How do we get fourteen children there?”

“We'll find a way.”

THE ATTACK OF THE BLOOD DRINKERS

FOR SEVEN YEARS, THE EARTH BURNED AND THE FLAME UNLEASHED A BLACK FOG THAT CHOKED THE VALLEYS OF THE GREAT NATIONS AND THEIR PEOPLE, STARVING, PERISHED. THE DREAMWALKERS AWOKE AND IT CAME TO BE THAT THE FATE OF THE SURVIVORS WAS LEFT IN THEIR HANDS.

—
THE WAR CHRONICLES

W
HEN ROAN AWAKES
the next day, the wheeled chair is gone.

“You're ready to walk,” Alandra announces. Though he's a little unsteady at first, Roan quickly finds his feet again.

He wastes no time announcing his first objective. “Lumpy,” he says to Alandra.

“Yes. The three of us have much to talk about.”

Roan is surprisingly nervous as they approach the town gate. He's grown complacent and has come unprepared. He lowers his head, allows his body to look soft, weak, as if not fully recovered from his illness.

“Off again gatherin', Alandra?” calls out the gatekeeper.

“Yes, I have to put my patient to work.”

As the gatekeeper gives him a curious look, Roan shadows his eyes as if from the sun and offers an easy smile.

“Good to get some fresh air, eh, fella? You look lots better than when we plucked you from the scrub out there.”

“Yes,” says Roan, “thanks to Alandra.”

“She's something, ain't she? Don't know what we'd do without her.”

At the sight of open country, Roan longs to break into a run. But after Alandra gives the gatekeeper a friendly wave, she sets the pace at an unhurried gait. They are two people on an easygoing stroll to pick some herbs.

“He's Brack's man, isn't he?”

“That's right.”

“The second he closes those gates, he'll report to the governor where we're going.”

Alandra links her arm through Roan's. “He'll report to Brack, and Brack will take no notice. Bringing a patient with me to pick herbs is something I do all the time. Nothing will seem more natural.”

They amble until Alandra points to her empty satchel hanging from a tree branch.

She lifts an eyebrow. Roan grins. “Hey, termite eater!” he calls in a low voice.

“Roan!” Lumpy leaps out from his hiding hole. Seeing Alandra, he stops in his tracks, covering his face. Alandra can't help but smile.

“I fed you for almost a month, and that's the thanks I get?”

“Don't worry, Lumpy, she's okay,” Roan informs his friend. He wraps his arms around him. “Thanks for bringing me here...and for waiting.” Roan lifts Lumpy into the air, both of them startled and pleased by the spontaneous display of affection.

“Guess you've recovered!”

“Not quite,” explains Alandra. “Another few days in the arm mold before we set him free. I hope you don't mind.”

“Not so long as you keep bringing me those berry cakes.”

Alandra holds out a stuffed-full satchel for him. “There are more for you in here, plus some tools you might find useful.”

Lumpy digs through the bag and pulls out a jar. Opening it, he sniffs, and his eyes open wide. “Salve.”

“I'm working on something to heal your skin, but at the moment, this is the best I can offer. Let's put some on you now,” Alandra offers.

“You're one of the healers the Forgotten told me about,” Lumpy says, his face filled with respect. Alandra nods and begins to rub the cream on his arms, neck, and face. Lumpy takes off his shirt and pulls up his pant legs, and Roan applies the salve to his friend's back and legs. While they finish, Lumpy hugs Alandra gratefully.

“So is this where you sleep?” asks Roan.

“No, just one of many hiding holes.” Lumpy leads them to some rocks set on mossy ground. “Here's home,” he says, slipping his fingers under the moss. Lifting it like a blanket, he reveals a hollowed-out area below.

“It may look rough, but believe me, I'm happy to have it. These woods are scary.”

“Marauders?” Roan asks. “I don't suppose robber bands could resist a place like Fairview.”

“Fairview is under the protection of the Friends,” says Alandra.

Roan and Lumpy exchange a nervous look.

“I haven't seen a Friend,” reports Lumpy, “but I have seen plenty of Blood Drinkers. Mainly they lurk around at night, scouting. When I hear them coming, I raft out onto the lake.”

“You made a raft?” Alandra asks excitedly.

“That water'll burn most things it touches, but the stick trees are impervious to it. And they float. So I wove some together. When I'm out on the raft, the Blood Drinkers can't sniff me out. That stink'd mask anything. And even if they could, they wouldn't dare step in the water. So it's pretty good cover.”

“The smell must be hard to take.”

“Breathe it in deep a couple of times and you get used to it quick.”

“How long would it take you to make three rafts, each big enough to hold four or five children and one or two of us?” Alandra asks.

“Are you serious? What's this about?”

“An escape. How does a week sound?”

“I might be able to do it if those Blood Drinkers weren't lurking around.”

“Then you'll need some help.” Alandra whistles, and from behind rustle of branches, a smiling figure emerges.

“Lelbit!” yells Lumpy, rushing over to her. She takes his hand and puts it on her heart. Roan looks questioningly at Alandra.

“She was sent by the Forgotten to watch over you.”

“It was
you
who pulled us out of the poison forest. You built the harness!” Lumpy exclaims.

Lelbit shrugs humbly.

“Why didn't you let me know you were there?” Lumpy asks.

“Her ability to protect you would have been compromised if her presence was known,” says Alandra. “But our plans have changed. Those rafts need to be made before the truck comes for the children.”

While Roan collects the herbs that are their cover for having left Fairview, Alandra explains the situation. Time is short, but with Lumpy and Lelbit's help, success now seems possible.

In the burgeoning heat of mid-spring, Roan and Alandra prepare for the escape. If they are discovered, they know the offense will reap a terrible punishment. They fill large water sacks, stitch child-sized rucksacks and pack them with bedding and food. Roan creates a map based on the terrain he saw in the flying dream. Together, he and Alandra estimate the distance they need to cover. Roan's tension builds with every passing day. An innocent knock on the door fills him with apprehension. A simple question from a shopkeeper makes his adrenaline surge. If they're found out, Lona and the rest of the children will die. They cannot fail.

This is not the only burden weighing on Roan. He finally feels he knows Alandra well enough to ask for an answer. “Why, from the time I first started dreaming, have you, Sari, and the others kept my sister from me?”

Alandra sighs. “The Masters of the City have Stowe. Some Dirt Eaters control her. The Turned, we call them. Collaborators with the City during the wars. It was the Turned who discovered Longlight, then revealed the location to their masters. The City sent Saint to capture both you and Stowe. He betrayed them by keeping you. Now they're using Stowe to find you. The power each of you possesses is formidable, but you and Stowe together would be unstoppable.”

“Isn't there some way to get her out?”

“Even if you did manage to find her without the City knowing, she'd expose you. Then they'd do the same thing to you as they're doing to her. Roan, your sister has changed. Right now, she's one of them.”

“What have they...”

“They've awakened her to her adult power. When that's done to a child, a terrible negative force is unleashed. The person becomes a distortion of who they are, of what they might have become.”

“Can she be turned back?”

“That may be possible one day, but for now, no. We would compromise everything we've struggled for. But maybe you're ready to see where she is. It might help you understand. Come,” says Alandra.

ROAN IS IN A CREVICE. HIGH WALLS ON EITHER SIDE, ABOVE HIM SKY. THE WIDE ROAD HE STANDS ON IS CONCRETE, MUCH OF IT BROKEN AND TURNED UP IN HUGE SLABS. IN FRONT OF HIM SITS THE BROWN RAT.

“
IF YOU REVEAL YOURSELF TO HER, IT WILL BE THE END OF YOU, OF HER, AND OF EVERYTHING THAT LONGLIGHT HOPED FOR,
”
THE RAT SAYS TO ROAN.

“
WHO ARE YOU
?”
ROAN ASKS.

“
I AM MANY AND FEW.
”
THE RAT LOOKS AT THE GOAT-WOMAN.
“
ALANDRA. QUICKLY. BE CIRCUMSPECT.
”

THE OLD GOAT-WOMAN NODS TO ROAN. ATOP A METAL LADDER, ROAN GAPES AT THE SIGHT BEFORE HIM. A HUGE METROPOLIS, BUILDINGS TOWERING INTO THE SKY, CONSUMES THE HORIZON.

“
THE AURA,
”
SHE SAYS.
“
WE'LL NEED IT TO DISGUISE OURSELVES.
”

THIS TIME, ROAN ACHIEVES THE LUMINESCENCE EFFORTLESSLY.

“
WATCH,
”
SAYS ALANDRA AS SHE DRAWS HER GREEN AURA BACK INTO HER SKIN, MAKING HER INDISTINGUISHABLE FROM HER SURROUNDINGS.
“
TAKE MY HAND.
”

ROAN'S CHARGED WITH SENSATION.
“
I SMELL DIFFERENT.
”

“
BLEND WITH ME, WE ARE EARTH NOW. CAN YOU SEE THE BRIDGE INTO THE CITY
?”

“
YES.
”

“
IMAGINE YOURSELF THERE.
”

THE AIR AROUND ROAN CONSTRICTS HIS CLAY BODY. BETWEEN HIM AND THE ENDLESS SKYSCRAPERS, THE DENSE AIR SWIRLS AND EDDIES INTO PATTERNS THAT APPEAR SO SOLID THAT ROAN REACHES OUT A HAND TO TOUCH THEM.

“
WE ARE AT THE EDGE OF THE DREAMFIELD,
”
ALANDRA EXPLAINS.
“
HERE WE CAN SEE THROUGH IT AND GET GLIMPSES OF THE ACTUAL CITY.
”

“
ROAN
!
ROAN
!”

ALANDRA NUDGES ROAN.
“
SHHH
!”
SHE HISSES.

HE HEARS HIS NAME AGAIN AND AGAIN, COMING FROM DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS.

ALANDRA POINTS.
“
SHE DOESN'T KNOW YOU'RE HERE.
”

ON TOP OF BULGING LAMPPOSTS ARE SHINING SILVER SPEAKERS. AND FROM EACH ONE THE SOUND OF STOWE'S VOICE CALLS ROAN'S NAME. A STRANGE YELLOW LIGHT PROJECTS FROM BEHIND SOME TOWERS A FEW BLOCKS AHEAD. ALANDRA EXTENDS HER HAND AND SHE AND ROAN ARE DRAWN TO ITS SOURCE.

THEY ARE PRESSED AGAINST THE GLASS OF AN ENORMOUS DOME. AT FIRST THE LIGHT IS BLINDING. BUT SOON WHAT'S INSIDE BECOMES VISIBLE. IN A VAST CONCRETE MORGUE LIE THE BODIES OF DOZENS OF CHILDREN. HOVERING OVER THEM, SURGEONS LACERATE AND EVISCERATE. HERE, A LITTLE GIRL, HER ABDOMEN EXPOSED, HER LIVER EXTRACTED. THERE, A BOY, SKULL OPEN, HIS BRAIN PROBED.

ROAN STURGGLES TO CONTROL HIS RAGE AND GRIEF. HE QUIETS HIS BREATH WHILE ALANDRA CRIES SILENTLY.

THEN HE SEES HER. HIS SISTER, STOWE, HER HANDS DRIPPING WITH BLOOD, HER GAZE FEROCIOUSLY ENERGIZED. A TALL, THIN-NOSED MAN LOOMS OVER HER, LONG FINGERS STROKING HER HAIR.

ROAN WATCHES, DISTURBED.
“
WHO'S THAT WITH HER
?”

“
A TURNED ONE.
”

AT THAT MOMENT, THE MAN SNAPS HIS HEAD SKYWARD.

“
PULL BACK
!”
ALANDRA CRIES, AND THEY ROLL JUST AS A HIDEOUS VULTURE-LIKE BIRD, RED BULBOUS SKIN HANGING OVER ITS BEAK, CASTS AN OMINOUS SHADOW OVER THEM. ALANDRA AND ROAN REMAIN PERFECTLY STILL.

“
THIS WAY,
”
SAYS THE RAT. AS THE DREAMFIELD COMPRESSES, ROAN FEELS HIS BODY COLLAPSE DOWN TO A MICROSCOPIC LEVEL AND DART BETWEEN MOLECULES IN THE EARTH. LOST IN THIS EERIE TIMELESSNESS HE IS UNCERTAIN OF HOW MUCH, IF ANY, TIME HAS PASSED. HE ONLY KNOWS THAT IN ONE MOMENT HE IS OF HUMUS AND WATER-SOAKED EARTH, AND IN THE NEXT HE EMERGES INTO DAYLIGHT.

FAR UP IN THE SKY, NOW JUST A SMALL STAIN AGAINST THE BLUE CLOUDS, HE CAN SEE THE SILHOUETTE OF THE GIANT BIRD.

“
WE ARE SAFE NOW,
”
SAYS THE RAT.
“
BUT IT WOULD BE WISE FOR YOU TO WAKE.
”

Alandra reaches across to Roan, anticipating his grief.

“Maybe one day, when you've fully come into your powers, it might be possible—”

But the clanging of alarm bells interrupts her, deflecting their concerns outward.

“Blood Drinkers are attacking the gates,” Alandra informs Roan.