The Severed Tower (5 page)

“Go, or stay outside, but you’re not coming back down! Get used to it!” The boy turned and moved off, leaving the four guards. Some of the residents conceded defeat, heading south down the road, lugging their gear and items. The rest kept yelling.

“Echo!” Mira shouted next to Holt, trying to get the attention of the boy over all the angry voices. “
Echo!
”

The boy stopped and turned around in surprise. His eyes found Mira, and the one the scar passed over twitched a little.

Echo hesitated, staring at Mira. Then he shouted to the four guards. “Her!” Echo pointed at Mira. “Let
her
through!”

“And my friends!” Mira yelled back.

Echo frowned. “Fine. Sure. Why not.”

The crowd watched as Holt and the others were escorted past the guards and into the clear, and then they yelled even louder, angrier than before.

When they reached him, Echo shook his head in frustration. “Picked a hell of a day to show up.”

“Echo…” Mira said and moved for him. He hugged her back with warmth, then pulled away. Something passed between them, something that hinted at a past, but Holt had no way to know what. He just nervously watched the short kid study Mira up close. If he noticed her eyes, he gave no indication. It was a subtle thing, and in a tense situation like this, he might not notice at all. Holt hoped their luck held.

“What’s going on?” Mira asked.

“Evacuation is what’s going on.”

“Clearly a popular decision,” Holt observed.

“Clearly.” Echo studied Holt and Zoey a moment. “But it is what it is. Things are getting out of control. The Strange Lands are changing, Mira. And no one has the first clue why.”

“Changing?” Mira asked. “Changing
how?
”

“Stable Anomalies are in place, they’re still where they were. The Mix Master, the Compactor, all of them. Though some people say they’re stronger. It’s the unstable ones that are the problem. They’re moving
outside
their normal rings. Been getting reports of everything from Ion Storms in the second to Quark Spheres in the third.”

Mira was stunned. Clearly this was serious news. “The Strange Lands have been the same for almost a decade, they don’t
change.
”

“Well, they do now,” Echo answered darkly.

“What about farther in? What about Polestar?”

“Deckard’s not evacuating, but that’s no surprise. Polestar’s his life. He’ll hold on as long as he can, maybe longer. I just hope he doesn’t get everyone there dead.” He looked at Mira squarely. “I lied to them back there, you know. He ordered the Crossroads to stay open.”

“But you’re not doing it,” Mira said.

Echo shook his head wearily. “I’m moving everyone the hell out until it’s safe. If Anomalies are showing up in different rings, who’s to say they won’t cross outside the border altogether? If Deckard has a problem with it, he can come tell me himself.”

Mira’s gaze intensified. “We need to get into the Strange Lands, Echo. It’s important.”

Echo shook his head. “I closed Northlift two days ago. No one’s going in. If it makes you feel better, Ben wasn’t happy about it either.”

At the name, Holt stiffened.

“Ben’s
here?
” Mira asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” Echo replied. “Figured that’s why
you
were here.”

“Not exactly.”

“He got here right after I closed the lift. Another hour and he could have gotten in. Been trying to get him to leave with everyone else, but he’s got a whole expedition of Gray Devils down there, and they’re probably more than my guards can handle. He’s refusing to leave. If he keeps it up, I’ll have to push the issue, and that’s not something I’m looking forward to.”

“Can I see him?” she asked.

Echo thought it through. “I guess. Maybe you can talk some sense into him. You were the only one who ever could. But that’s
all
you’re going down for.
No one’s
using Northlift.”

They started walking, the shouts of the crowd fading behind them, and Holt finally saw why the road seemed to end so abruptly.

Ahead of them, the ground disappeared into a sheer drop off the edge of a cliff. Yet it was more than that. A giant, jagged hole stretched in a roughly circular shape outward, two lines of plummeting rock that met back together in the far distance. It was an old rock quarry, Holt saw, and it had been repurposed long ago as something else entirely. A junkyard, a very specific kind. Hundreds of old military planes—bombers, transports and fighters—from all eras and ages, most rusting and falling apart, sat at the bottom of the quarry and stretched into the distance.

The road didn’t just end, either. It took a sharp left and then banked steeply in a wide path that carved through the wall of the quarry. A big trail, but it would have to be to get these planes in here.

Near where the road turned away, a framework of steel and old railroad timber held a giant series of chains that ran through a complicated system of pulleys and cables, and several refurbished tractor engines that were loudly cranking something upward from below.

It was a huge box-shaped elevator, big enough to hold several dozen kids and their belongings. It was made of wood and sheet metal and plastic siding all hammered and blended together, with the chains running through the pulleys in the supports attached to each of its four corners.

What looked like the steering column from some old boat sat in the middle, with thick cables running from it up the walls, through the pulleys and over to the tractor engines.

An operator inside yanked a lever downward and the engines gurgled and shut off. The lift rocked badly, slamming into the edge of the cliff, but the kids inside seemed to expect it. They piled out just as angry as the others, all yelling and clamoring for Echo’s attention; but the lift also brought with it three more guards, and they shoved the group away toward the rest.

“When did you start evacuating?” Mira asked.

“About a day ago, but it’s been slow going,” Echo said. He seemed tired, Holt noted. “No one leaves until the guards force them to. Plus, using Southlift is taking forever. Going to have to make people use the old road.”

They got inside and Echo slammed a lever upward on the old controls. The lift jolted as the engines outside grumbled back to life and began to indelicately lower them down. Southlift, Echo had called it. Northlift, Holt guessed, was most likely a similar elevator at the other end of the junkyard that people used to enter the Strange Lands. With the cliffs all around them and the only road exiting to the south, if Echo shut it down he could definitely keep people from going in. They’d have to scale the quarry walls, otherwise.

Southlift rocked and swayed as it lowered, and Holt grabbed a strap from the ceiling for good measure. He felt Zoey cling to his leg, trying to balance. She didn’t seem scared, though.

“What’s up with you and Lenore?” Echo asked Mira. “Heard there was some kind of dustup? You in trouble?”

Mira and Holt looked at each other. Mira had basically killed Lenore Rowe, the leader of the Gray Devils, in their escape out of Midnight City. It wasn’t technically death, but using an artifact to spontaneously Succumb someone to the Tone was about as close as you could get.

“It’s … all okay now,” Mira said. It wasn’t entirely a lie, it was “okay” as far as Mira was concerned. But Holt doubted any Gray Devils they ran into would agree. “It’s one of the reasons I’m here, actually.”

“Well, like I said,” Echo replied testily, “if that reason involves going into the Strange Lands, you’re not doing it from the Crossroads.”

Before Mira could argue, the lift touched down with a jolt. Echo yanked another lever, silencing the engines up top, and stepped out the opposite side.

Holt and the others followed, and when they did the full breadth of the Crossroads came into view.

Airplanes of all kinds and types, in various states of disrepair, stretched into the distance, most of them laboriously repurposed into houses, stores, workshops, eateries, and warehouses, arranged all the way to the other side of the crater, parked and lined up next to each other long ago.

Bridges made of rope and wooden planks stretched between the tops of the old aircraft, making the place a city of two levels, the ground and the open air above. Ramshackle structures made of wood and fiberglass were attached to the tops of some of the bigger planes, and Holt saw what looked like a food court hanging onto an old green C-130 transport.

And there were people. Lots of people. Mostly teens, Holt noticed. There were fewer children here than in Midnight City or Faust, probably because this was a fringe location. It was more dangerous living here at the border of the Strange Lands.

They moved in and out of the planes and buildings, most packing and filling bags, getting ready to leave. More armed guards, Echo’s men, moved in between, making sure progress was being made, and Holt saw a line of kids a hundred strong stretching back and waiting to ride Southlift up to the top. Echo was right, it would take forever that way.

They kept walking, pushing through the crowds and the strange, converted city of crumbling airplanes, and as they did Holt saw something else. Every once in awhile, he spotted a flag flying above a plane or a ramshackle structure. Colorful ones, ones he recognized with a sinking feeling.

Auburn red, with a huge white wolf’s head. Black, with a white Celtic cross. Green, with a sharp yellow sword.

Midnight City factions. Their outposts in the Crossroads. They’d have to be careful. It wasn’t just Mira they might recognize. Holt still felt a chill when he thought about seeing his name on the Scorewall.

“You come from Midnight?” Echo asked as they walked.

Mira nodded.

“Are the rumors true? The Assembly actually attacked it?”

Mira hesitated. “Yeah.”

“Wow.” Echo seemed stunned. “Still can’t imagine that. I mean, they’ve left it alone for so long, why attack it now, you know?”

This was a dangerous conversation, given that the answer to Echo’s question was walking along with them, holding Holt’s hand. He quickly changed the subject. “We saw Menagerie boats on the way here.”

Echo’s demeanor darkened. “Heard about that, too. Scouts said they anchored about a mile away; been pulling equipment and gear off. Looks like they’re heading into the Strange Lands, crazy as that is. Never met a Menagerie Freebooter, and I wouldn’t want to either. But so far they haven’t made it here, if that’s what they’re intending.”

“Will you turn them back, too?” Holt asked. He hoped the answer was yes.

“Plan to, yeah,” Echo answered tightly. “If I have my way, they won’t get past Southlift. But Menagerie are always armed. And they don’t like the word ‘no’ very much.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Sometimes I’m not sure it’s worth all the headache. Maybe I just oughta leave, let Ben and the Menagerie and Deckard and everyone else do what they want.”

“You’re not Deckard,” Mira said. “But you do keep your promises. You’ve been the Overseer here longer than anyone. No one said it would be easy.”

“Yeah,” Echo replied, “you got that right.”

Someone shouted from ahead of them, a boy’s voice, somewhat soft, but it carried regardless. “Mira!”

Holt looked up at the sound.

The Crossroads was a ghost town this far in, but sitting under a thick, gray canopy was a group of about twenty kids. The canopy was made of tough fabric, strung back and forth between three old fighter jets, marking off a pretty large area of ground. Holt could see sleeping cots, a cooking area, a pool table and showers—and he saw something else, too. From the top of the fabric structure a flag flew, outstretched in the wind. Deep gray and white, with a laughing devil’s face, a forked tongue snaking out of its mouth, horns on its head.

It was the Gray Devils outpost, Holt realized, but, did that mean…?

Someone appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Mira. Holt’s first thought was that the Gray Devils were attacking, but it only took one look to know that wasn’t the case. A boy lifted Mira off the ground and spun her.

He was about her age, with lean muscles under a gray utility shirt. His eyes were full of the Tone, and his hair was razored close to his scalp, leaving a dark outline of color over the top. He had a pair of black-rimmed eyeglasses on his nose, and he smiled up at Mira as he spun her around once, twice … and then kissed her.

It was a short kiss. That was Holt’s only consolation. But still, Mira didn’t push him away. When it was done she just stared down at the boy with a mixture of emotions.

“Hi, Ben,” she said in a low, conflicted voice.

It felt like somebody had just stepped on Holt’s heart.

4.
BEN

BENJAMIN AUBERTINE
had never been classically good-looking. He was lean and agile, in good shape, but most Freebooters were. He had sharp features set in an angular face, and a detached self-confidence behind his eyes. His hair was something he didn’t have an interest in maintaining, so he kept it shaved close, leaving a thin layer of black over his head that gave him a hard-edged look that belied his true nature.

In reality, Mira had never seen Ben fight anyone, never seen him lift a hand in anger, never seen him mad at all. Maybe that was because he had no reason to be. Ben could talk himself out of anything. Mira once watched him convince some Crossmen Freebooters who’d lost their supplies in the third ring that choosing
not
to rob Mira and himself would ultimately result in two hundred and thirty Points for each of them on the Scorewall. They’d believed him, and he’d been right. That exact amount was figured into their totals when they got back, due to their navigation of the third ring without food or equipment.

Moments like that were reasons why Mira had been pulled to Ben. She rarely found herself attracted to conventional sorts. She was drawn to different qualities, like intellect or creativity or some unique personality quirk. Even with Holt, for all his obvious physicality, her feelings for him mostly stemmed from his wits, his ability to improvise, his calm under pressure.