Phoenix Overture

“We’ve lost even more people to plague and sickness on this journey.” I slumped and massaged my temples. “This place is going to kill us. If not the attacks, it’ll be because we all froze to death.”

My brother glanced downward. “I know.” We’d both helped bury some of the bodies.

“And everything Meuric does just seems so suspicious.” I peered north, but I couldn’t see the beginnings of the caravan around the winding mountain road. “I keep seeing riders around his wagon.”

“He is our acting leader. He has a lot of people to order around.”

I shook my head. “Sometimes they leave the caravan altogether, and I never see them again.”

“You’re not always watching for them, are you? Maybe you don’t see their return. Or maybe they die.”

“But why? Where are they going? What are they doing?” I tugged off my hat and ran my fingers through my dust-stiff hair. “What could be killing them?”

“More centaurs? I don’t know.” Fayden braced himself against the roof and repositioned himself. “He swears we’ll be there soon, though.”

“Where?” I gazed north, but all I could see were endless mountains dusted white with snow. Golden sunlight caught the knifelike ridges, making heavy shadows contrast the glow. “Where are we going?”

“To rescue Janan.”

And I still couldn’t understand why.

Why all of us? What had Janan been doing in the first place? Maybe there was a good reason for everything, but we hadn’t been told enough. We’d been expected to follow. And those who hadn’t had been punished.

Killed.

Meuric was acting so harshly in Janan’s name. Was that how Janan had ruled, and we’d just never noticed? How did we know that we were doing the right thing by following?

I couldn’t be sure anymore. I didn’t know what was right. Or if it even mattered.

We were all going to die one day anyway.

The wagon followed a long curve around the mountain and I saw it: our destination.

How I knew, I couldn’t say, but something deep within my soul shifted and I had no doubts.

“Look,” I breathed. Mist fell from my lips.

Fayden stood and followed my gaze.

In the distance, a white column pierced the sky. From so far away, it looked reed thin and frighteningly lonely in the gold and red and russet foliage, but it must have been so, so strong. I couldn’t find the top of it, even though the sky was clear and blue. It was like a beam of light shot into the sky, infinite and unearthly. It sang to me, calling me closer. For the first time since we’d left the old city, something like music stirred inside of me.

“It must be enormous,” said Fayden. “To be visible from this distance.”

Before and behind us, wagons rolled to a stop as everyone climbed onto the roofs to stare.

A white wall ran around the soaring tower, surrounded by a thick forest, all vibrant with coming winter. I’d never seen such an array of autumn shades by the old city, but here the trees shone copper in the sunlight. Everything down there looked so perfect and still, like a painting.

Mist or steam floated near the wall, a ghostly sight that made me shiver. Just as I was about to ask where the vapor came from, water shot into the sky, shattering the stillness. I imagined the eruption of water was loud, but from this distance, it was all silent.

“What is this place?” Fayden whispered.

“This is it,” came the voices from ahead. “This is where Janan is being held.”

I stared at the white tower, struggling against the tide of awe that washed through me. What had captured Janan? What had imprisoned him in that? Janan must have done something truly terrible to earn this fate.

Slowly, the wagons wound down the old road. Mountains rose like jagged teeth around us.

From this high point of the road, I could see the first wagons reaching a forested plateau. They headed toward the white wall, which looked immense even from so far away. The wagons looked so tiny underneath its shadow.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here,” said Fayden. “What do you think will happen?”

What made him think I had any idea? But I just shook my head and called Stef up to look, and the three of us stood atop the wagon together, watching our future grow ever nearer as we descended the mountain.

It took all day for the last of the wagons to reach the plateau, and purple dusk crept over the sky as the sun vanished beneath the high mountain peaks. The roads here had been worn away long ago—if there ever had been roads here—and the forest made navigating in the wagons difficult.

Wolves howled in the distance, and birds squawked at our passage. Though it was cold and everyone was exhausted, we pushed through the woods, trampling undergrowth. Everything was flattened by the time my wagon reached it.

Only a full, heavy moon illuminated the landscape; it was too closed in for torches. Scouts and guards vanished in and out of the woods, calling instructions and locations. In spite of the unfamiliar surroundings, everyone seemed in good cheer. We’d arrived.

And above everything, the white tower rose, a pale shadow on the sky, visible only because of the moonlight.

“Everyone thinks that’s where he’s being kept,” said Fayden.

“Everyone?” I rolled my eyes. As if he’d had a chance to poll the entire Community and ask what they thought about the tower. But it seemed likely; it was the only structure here. It didn’t appear old enough to be pre-Cataclysm, and if the enemy Meuric kept talking about was as powerful as he’d said, no doubt they could have constructed this tower . . . this prison.

The wagons ahead of us began to slow as the Council’s warriors waved them into spaces. “Here! Put your wagon here!”

In a wide field near the shining lake I’d seen from the mountains, the warriors organized everyone into ranks. Everyone had a tiny amount of land to spread out for the night, to put out their tents or sleeping pallets.

Stef climbed off the wagon and vanished inside to help his aunts. “Want to see if we can find someone who knows what’s going on?” I asked, stripping off the cloth covering half my face. “It’ll be a little while before supper is ready.”

“Sure.” Fayden poked his head into the wagon to let Stef and his aunts know where we were going, and then we headed deeper into the camp.

Everywhere people bustled back and forth, gossiping and pointing at the tower rising in the distance.

“What do you think is in there?” a man asked.

“What built it is a better question.” His wife stared upward, mouth dropped open. “Was it already here when they trapped Janan inside of it? Or did they build it specifically for him?” She shook her head. “It’s incredible.”

They were good questions—and I couldn’t even guess the answers.

“There are holes that shoot water out of them,” said another person as we passed.

“The ground is really thin in some places. I could feel the hollowness when I stepped. We should make sure no one puts their wagons there.”

Lively talk filled the camp like music. Fayden, who seemed to know everyone, waved and grinned at people, promising we’d join them for a meal soon. “This is my brother, Dossam,” he said a few times. “You probably heard his music on the way here.”

“That was you?” replied one woman as she pressed her palm to her chest. “The best parts of my day were when you played.”

A few others hugged me in response to Fayden’s introduction, and I felt it, the thing I had wanted all along: for a few people, my music had become real and valuable and important. To these people, my music had been useful—and might always have been, if I hadn’t hidden it out of fear that someone might take it away.

In spite of the cool wind whipping around wagons and trees, the air grew warmer as people built fires and pulled out pots to cook in. Others worked by the lake, catching fish and hauling water to trade.

The music of voices and life flowed about the camp, tempting me into a smile. I hadn’t wanted to come on this quest to find a leader I didn’t care about, but for the first time, I was glad I was here—and not just because I