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We reach the border of the light some time later and follow it north, staying just outside of it to avoid attracting attention, not that there’s any guarantee we’ll be able to go completely unnoticed. According to Astor, patrols from Kalepo will be monitoring this region closely until the festival, and we don’t have time to go completely around them. Each day counts. Each day is one more of suffering for Yori and Julienne.
I am left to imagine what became of Wade. At least I know where the others are. Wade could be anywhere doing anything. Whenever I hear a rustling in the brush, or feel the paranoia of eyes watching me, I almost expect Wade to suddenly appear with some fantastic plan like he was never gone. Sometimes I want that. And other times I’d rather him be dead. How I feel about him still confuses me, making his fate is a haunting mystery that frequently occupies my mind.
Concerns about tomorrow start to trouble me as we slowly move through fields and wooded areas to the northern reach of the light. Seeking the Necromancer, to my surprise, didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world at first, though that’s how Astor initially reacted. Despite Yori’s attempt to demonize the Necromancer, there was always a part of me that remained intrigued by him, by his promises of truth. But now that we are so close, I’m starting to have second thoughts.
The mist above us begins fading from gold to red and grey as the evening sets in and we turn directly north toward foothills on the distant horizon. We don’t get much further before we have to make camp for the night in some trees. After we get a needed rest, we’ll make the final push up into those hills and hopefully reach the Necromancer by the following evening.
It doesn’t take long for Astor to fall asleep as the twilight sets in. I’m glad, both because he usually has a hard time with it and because I want to think in solitude. Sleep is the last thing on my mind right now as I begin to recognize where we are. The tree we are camping in is just a stone’s throw from the one Wade and I climbed on my first night in the plains.
It’s crazy just how much has happened since then, how much has changed. I had no idea then the danger and intrigue that stood before me, nor could I have ever imagined the strange people I would meet and the amazing things that would be revealed to me concerning other worlds and the stars above. And never would I have suspected that my own world, one that once seemed timeless and unchanging, was creeping ever nearer toward utter chaos and the imminent threat of war.
The importance of our mission is much higher than I ever anticipated. Astor says that the armies of the plains will soon be on the move, having used the years of peace my father and mother brought to these lands to build themselves up in preparat
ion for fighting back and eventually marching up the Great Stairway. And I suppose they have great reason to try.
Kalepo’s kings and queens had waged a secret war for centuries against the people of the plains to maintain their hold over the world stones. The Festival of Three Suns was the cover for that war and kept most of Kalepo’s people from being any the wiser, living in blissful ignorance, as my father often said, though I, too, was shielded from the truth until I came here.
No matter what wicked things Mariam is planning, I hope she can protect our kingdom. My heart feels for my people and trembles at the sword hanging over their heads. I miss them and the mountains that peer watchfully over them. Even now as Astor and I push forward with the hope of escape for those in the plains struggling for survival, I long to return there, just as I long to see my sister again despite what she is, though I wonder how she will react should that day ever come.
My mind keeps me up with thoughts like these, and the night drags on. I become so frenzied that even as my exhausted body begs me to drift into a deep slumber, my eyes won’t stay shut. They just bounce around at whatever is able to catch the faded blue light pushing through from above. The mist must be thinner here than in other areas, enough for faint starlight.
The grass below us waves lightly as a breeze brushes through it,
carrying an unexpected chill. I rub my arms as the hairs on them stand. My hands begin to shake, trembling from the cold as I start breathing quickly and exhaling wisps of frosty air.
“Kaela,” a scraggly voice whispers.
I look toward Astor, but he’s still fast asleep.
‘It’s nothing, you’re just tired,’ I tell myself, though I’m hardly convinced.
The wind begins gusting violently, the branches of the trees swaying heavily back and forth. Why isn’t Astor waking up?
“I can see you,” the voice continues.
My eyes shift to the grass. Something is there, walking slowly toward us. It’s hard to make out, but it becomes clearer as I squint. Its back, maybe, is sticking out, like it’s crawling on four legs. It must be fairly large because I can barely reach the top of the glass standing straight up myself. Whatever this creature is, it is coming for us. Or at least for me.
Just as I start to panic, as I am about to call out to Astor, it suddenly vanishes. At that same moment, the wind calms and the coldness surrounding me is replaced by the warm night air I’ve become accustomed to. But I couldn’t have made up what I just saw. It wasn’t some strange vision or a hallucination from fatigue. No, there was something there, something calling out to me. What did it want, and why would it leave?
I am reminded of what I experienced when I followed Mariam into the catacombs. I have always felt like the darkness there knew I was following her, yet it didn’t harm me. Darkness, it seems, has always been content to let me go.
Or maybe what I saw just now was a drifting spirit and nothing more. My sisters told me about such wanderers when I was a child. It seems that not all people depart in spirit when they die. For whatever reason, many stay around and are caught in a sort of lost confusion. Some become miserable and wicked. Others somehow find a purpose. I can only hope that whatever came across us just now saw nothing in us and simply moved on. That it never intended to hurt us.
Astor remains peaceful and still. I want to wake him and tell him what happened, but I decide against it. There’s no point in worrying him over something that’s gone now. We have enough to worry about once the morning comes anyway.
I drift off into a light sleep a few moments later, though I wake up a couple of times and look around anxiously. The second time, I begin to sense that someone, or something, is nearby, some presence that feels very real. I glance out at our shadowy surroundings, but nothing stands out, nor does this manifestation feel dark or wicked. Still, Astor ought to know.
“What do you want?” he says in a daze.
“We’re not alone,” I reply quietly, my finger pressed against my lips.
His face becomes serious as his squinting eyes study the area. Some golden strands of light are starting to seep through the darkness above, alluding to the approaching dawn. The prospect of day encourages me.
“I’m not seeing anything. What happened?”
I explain the events of the night, as well as what took place in the canals, something I’ve kept to myself. He’s slightly upset that I didn’t tell him back in Vanguard. It does seem silly not to have said anything, but maybe not telling him was my way of hoping that it was nothing, that such darkness wouldn’t follow us beyond the city. After last night, there’s no way of denying what I can feel to my bones. We are in great danger.
“We should go now,” he suggests.
