Origins

everything. The stonework must have taken forever to shape and put together. The interior was dim, even though it was morning. Torches gave off dancing light at regular intervals along the hallway. The entire building was U- shaped — there were two parallel wings, one of which I was in, connected by the entrance hall. I could walk from one end of the wing to the other in about a minute. It obviously wasn’t just Char living here — it was his personal guards, cooks, slaves, and guests. It was a massive facility. Part of the building, if not most, had to have existed pre-Ragnarok.

As I made my way to the clinic, I passed the compound’s occupants — Raiders with guns, slaves hurrying to clean. It was very different from what I was used to, and it was hard not to feel guilty that slaves were needed to keep a fortress like this running.

I passed by an open window to see Anna practicing the sword in the courtyard under a tall pine. Her movements were quick, fluid, and repetitive. I could hear the blade whirring even from my distance. Her skill was amazing. It was hard not to stand there and watch. Her constant workouts had honed her body of any extraneous fat. Though small, she had curves that made it very difficult to look away.

I turned from the window to walk to the clinic. When I entered, I found Makara already there.

“Is he awake?” I asked.

Eyes heavy, Makara shook her head. It looked as if she hadn’t slept at all.

Samuel’s eyes flickered open.

“Sam?” Makara asked.

“Hey, Makara.”

His voice was parched. Makara reached for a glass of water nearby and held it to his lips.

“How are you feeling?” Makara asked.

Samuel took a swallow of water. He took too much, though; he coughed and winced in pain.

“Easy,” Makara said. “There’s no rush.”

“Where am I?”

“We’re in Char’s compound,” Makara said. “We made it to Raider Bluff. He saved your life.”

Samuel closed his eyes. I could not tell if it was out of relief or dread. He opened them again, and turned his head for the window. He stared at the red clouds outside.

“Are you hungry?” Makara asked.

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“I have a servant getting us food, so she should be back with it soon.”

Samuel closed his eyes again. “It hurts.”

“I’m sure,” Makara said. “That was a nasty hit you took.”

“I just hope it doesn’t keep us here long.”

“We need to get our strength back, anyway.” Makara stood and stretched. Her eyes looked distant for a moment.

“We got to leave as soon as we can,” Samuel said. “Maybe sooner.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Samuel’s eyes drifted to me. “I don’t remember the exact date, but it’s already October. The first snows will have fallen in Cheyenne. A month from now, the land will be impassable.”

“It’s that cold there?”

“Colder than you realize,” Samuel said. “The world is much colder than it used to be.”

Samuel coughed, and Makara put more water to his lips. He drank.

“Don’t strain yourself, Samuel,” Makara said.

Samuel settled back into his pillow. “If anything happens, you will have to go on without me.”

“Don’t say that,” Makara said. “That’s not going to happen. We’d be useless without you.”

Samuel didn’t respond. He only closed his eyes.

A middle-aged woman with dark brown hair walked in, carrying a tray that held a large pot of stew, wooden bowls and spoons, and a plate stacked with flatbread. The steaming pot gave off a spicy, savory aroma that set my stomach growling. She set the tray on an end table. After giving a forced smile, she left the room, her footsteps fading down the hallway.

I tried to pretend that she was only a servant, and was getting paid for this work. But I couldn’t. I knew the truth. She, along with all the other “servants” I had passed in the hallway, were slaves.

“It’s awful,” I said.

Makara took a bowl, and filled it with stew. “It is what it is.”

“I know I can’t change anything. It’s just that the world is harsher than I thought.”

Makara took the bowl of stew, not for herself, but for Samuel. She pulled up her chair beside him.

“Makara, no,” he said. “I can handle this.”

“Samuel, don’t be stubborn. You only have one good hand, so you’ll spill it.”

“No, I won’t.” He glared at her. “Hand me that bowl.”

Makara held onto it. “If you want to eat, it will be with me feeding you.”

“Makara…”

She arched an eyebrow.

Seeing he was not going to win, Samuel sighed. “Fine.”

Taking that as a sign of her victory, Makara jabbed the spoon into the bowl and forced it to Samuel’s lips. He begrudgingly took a bite.

I helped myself to the stew. It had a reddish-brown hue, was filled with potatoes, carrots, onions, and leeks, and had small cuts of meat. After filling my bowl nearly to the brim, I chowed down, not minding how hot it was. The stew was thick, dark, and filling.

“What kind of meat is this?” I asked.

“Camel,” Makara said.

I nearly spat the food back out. “Camel?”

I had never even considered that camel could be eaten — though it would make sense, given how numerous they were. The meat was cut into thin slices, spiced, and was red in the center. It was tough, like jerky.

Despite the strange taste, I decided that camel wasn’t that bad, though that could have just been my hunger. I filled up a second bowl and ate until it felt as if I would burst.

As Samuel ate, Makara grabbed bites from her bowl when she could.

Anna entered the room, her face covered with a thin sheen of sweat, her katana sheathed on her back. Her thin white shirt clung to her curves, slightly damp from her workout. I tried not to focus on that too much.

I would have thought she wanted to speak to either Samuel or Makara, but it was me she looked at. “I am to take you to Char.”

“Char?” I asked. “What does he want with me?”

“I’m not sure. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Anna turned, and headed out the door, expecting me to follow.

I looked at Makara. “What does he want?”

“I don’t know. It’s best not to keep him waiting.”

“I don’t see why he just doesn’t ask you.”

“Because she’s Makara,” Samuel said. “She’s difficult.”

“What if he asks about our mission?” I asked. “What do I say?”

“Don’t lie,” Samuel said. “But at the same time, don’t volunteer everything. Remember, he’s the most powerful man in the Mojave. Don’t make an enemy of him.”

Makara held up another spoonful of soup to Samuel’s mouth.

“Go, Alex,” Samuel said. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

I walked out of the clinic and followed Anna to the entry hall.

Chapter 4

I did find Char in the entry hall. He was busy speaking with someone who appeared far more important than