She nodded. As soon as I left her and stepped out the door, Siry jumped me, grabbed my shirt and got right in my face.
“Did my father send you here?” he demanded. “Did he tell you to stop me?”
I could have dropped the guy in a heartbeat, but that wouldn’t do anything to earn his trust. I had to show strength, but not seem like a threat.
“No. To both questions.”
“Then why are you here? And don’t tell me it’s to battle some fantasy demon monster.”
He was making it tough. That’s exactly why I was there.
“What are you afraid of, Siry? What’s happening here?”
He pulled away from me. The guy was a mess of emotions, most of them negative. He was angry, distrustful, and scared. He started to speak, but stopped, as if the words were difficult. He was struggling to keep his emotions in check. The other Jakills were gone. We were alone. I didn’t think he’d have let his feelings show like that if the others had been around.
“Is it true?” he finally asked. “About my father?”
I nodded. Siry winced. The guy had a tough shell, but there was a heart in there somewhere.
“I didn’t know him,” I explained. “But I know a lot about him. Maybe I can help you understand him.”
“I know all I want to know,” he snapped viciously.
This wasn’t going well. I needed an ally on Ibara. I needed a Traveler, but all I had was an angry kid who had issues with his father. It wasn’t going to be easy to get him to accept his role as a Traveler and take on a whole bunch more.
“Your father was telling the truth,” I said. “I need your help.”
“You say that like I should care,” Siry shouted. “My father was on the tribunal. He was just as guilty as the rest of them.”
“Then help me understand,” I pleaded with him. “What is the tribunal guilty of?”
Siry stared at the ground. I felt as if he wanted to trust me, but didn’t know how.
“You said I was a target,” he said softly.
“We’re all targets. All Travelers. You don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. You’re going to find out soon enough. Better to hear it from me than-“
“Than Saint Dane?” he interrupted.
“I’m here to find the truth, Siry,” I said again. “Maybe I can help you get what you want too, but you have to trust me. I need to know about the tribunal and the Jakills and the Flighters.”
Siry looked at me as if I were from Mars. Or Second Earth. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” “What can I say? I’m from out of town.” Siry gave me a look that actually chilled me. “If you do anything to hurt the Jakills, I’ll kill you.” He meant it too.
Without another word, Siry walked toward the bay. He led me along the sandy path, down to the perfect white-powder beach and along the shore. The water was warm, like Cloral. It felt good to splash in it. Siry didn’t speak. I didn’t think he was used to opening up to anybody, especially a stranger, and I was about as strange a guy as he’d ever met. He was angry. Angry with the tribunal, with his father, and with life in general. He didn’t speak again until we were too far from the village to be overheard.
“We’re being lied to” was the first thing he said. “Everybody. Every last person in Rayne. Maybe everyone on Ibara.”
“Who’s lying? The tribunal?”
“It starts with them,” he answered. “They’re manipulating us all. They say they’re doing what’s best for everyone, but it’s not the truth.”
“What are they lying about?”
“Everything!” he snapped. “It’s about getting us to conform to their way of thinking. Their way of life. Living in this village is like being dead.”
“Really? Seems pretty sweet to me.”
“You don’t live here,” Siry snarled. “This is it. There’s nothing more. People live their boring little lives in their little huts doing little jobs. Every day. Everyone has his place. Nothing varies. When you turn seven, you’re evaluated and told what job you’ll do for the rest of your life. You have no choice. You know what job they’ve got for me? Farming. I’m supposed to grow food to feed the people who make the clothes that are worn by the people who catch the fish that are eaten by the people who build the huts for the people who pick up the trash of the people who repair the lights for the people who bring the water to the people who teach other people how to do all the boring jobs in the first place. It never ends. Every single day. That’s not living. It’s surviving.”
“So where does the lying come in?” I asked.
“There’s more to this world than that. To life. The tribunal is keeping it from us.”
“How?” I asked.
“They control information. There are plenty of books, but none talk about our history, or about anything that happens beyond our little world. Don’t even try to ask. You won’t get answers. Worse, if you ask too many questions, they put you away. It’s a crime to be curious.”
“I don’t get that.”
“People disappear. One day a guy might be heard openly wondering about why we aren’t allowed to move to other villages; the next day he’s gone. His whole family is gone. Nobody knows where or why. They’re just… gone, and never seen again.”
“So why don’t people just leave?” I asked.
“Because nobody is allowed off the island!” Siry shouted.
“This is an island?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes,” Siry answered. “Rayne is the largest village, but there are others. I’ve been to a few with my father, but traveling is discouraged. We’re conditioned from birth to live our lives in the little village where we were born and to be happy about it. I’m not. None of the Jakills are. We know there’s something more out there. The Jakills are going to find it.”
“Wait, go back. This is an island that nobody has ever left?”
“Yes.”
“So who are the Flighters? People trying to leave?” “No, they come from somewhere else. That’s why the tribunal is afraid of them. They’re worried the Flighters will poison our way of life. The security force usually keeps them away, but sometimes a few make land, like today.” “Where do they come from?”
“That’s just it. Nobody knows! If the tribunal knows, they’re not saying. The tough thing is, the Flighters are savages. If they were friendly, there might be a way to learn from them, but they aren’t. They’re scavengers who raid farms and steal whatever they can carry. They’ve attacked villagers and destroyed huts. They’re all about random violence. Now they’re going after the tribunal.”
“So it looks like the tribunal has more to worry about than whether they’ll poison Rayne’s way of life.”
Siry nodded.
“If you hate the place so much, why did you protect the tribunal from the Flighters?”
Siry chuckled and shook his head, as if I were an idiot. “We don’t want to destroy Rayne, Pendragon. If people are happy with their lives, that’s their choice. We just want everyone to know the truth and live their lives the way they want. We aren’t heartless. The Jakills have families. We want change, not destruction. We want to help the people of Rayne, not hurt them. That’s why we fight the Flighters.”
Good answer.
“So that’s what brought the Jakills together? You want to change your lives?”
“Most of us are the sons and daughters of village leaders,” Siry answered. “We all heard things, growing up. Little things our parents let slip. It got each of us thinking on our own. Once we started pooling our information, the questions kept coming. Who are we? Why are we stuck here? Why can’t we learn about the rest of our world?”
“What did your father tell you?” I asked.
Siry laughed. “He was the worst of all. He wanted nothing to do with the outside world.
I have a hard time believing he was some kind of ‘Traveler.’ That wasn’t him. I’m sorry he’s dead. I really am. He was a good guy when I was little. But once I started having opinions of my own, we stopped getting along.”
“What about your mother?” I asked. “I didn’t know her. Remudi adopted me when I was a baby.”
