“Everything in the transport is for you,” the woman says and then holds up the axe. “Have you ever seen one of these?”
“Not made of steel,” he answers. “Only the kind made in the Barrens.”
“This one works much better.”
The woman tosses the axe straight up towards the sky. The man’s eyes follow the steel as it revolves in the air. After it reaches its apex and begins its descent, the woman holds out one hand. The handle slaps against her palm. In one fluid motion, she clenches her fingers around the handle, cocks the axe by her head, and hurls it towards the tree. Slicing deeply into the bark, the blade locks in the trunk. When the man looks at the woman again, the woman believes she sees respect in his eyes.
“Everything you’ve told me makes sense,” he says. “When the time comes, how many of us will you want to join the battle you spoke of?”
“Just a few from each camp,” the woman answers. “But only if they’re confident in our plan.”
The man nods his head. “It’s a fair arrangement.”
“You won’t regret your decision,” the woman says. “You and I will go speak with the others in the area. If the loners you mentioned give us any trouble, I’ll take care of them. The woman with me will remain here for a while to help with anything you need.”
Sizing up the commander, the Murkovin scrutinizes her from head to toe.
“She’s trustworthy,” the woman says, “and as skilled with a weapon as anyone you’ve ever met. I assure you of that.”
“And what of you?” the man asks the woman.
“I’ll come here from time to time. If you have any problems, tell me. I’ll resolve them. Can any of you blend your light?”
“None in my clan,” he answers. “A young man who dwells nearby can.”
“When we go see the others, make sure I know which one he is. We need to reach as many parts of the Barrens as possible.” The woman points her hand at the hilltop where the children are. “Call the others and have your fill of sap. Drink until you’re more satisfied than you’ve ever been.”
The man yells to the rest of his clan to join him. The female commander takes out several cups from the back of the wagon and trots to the tree. From the spigot on one end of the sap transport, she fills the cups one by one.
The woman watches the female Murkovin and three children climb down the slope. Thin and pale, the children are clothed in faded rags hastily sewn together. Their plight will soon change, the woman tells herself, and they’ll know she’s the reason why.
I don’t like being away from my child for so many morrows at a time.But it will all be worth it soon enough.
Like many of the other camps we’ve established, these people respect my boldness and trust my words. I bring them something they’ve never had—hope for a better future. And when that better life comes to fruition, their loyalty will belong to me.
Chapter 13
At the beginning of my morrow off, I say goodbye to Sash and take Aven to Home. Before I set my daughter on the ground, she reaches her arms around my neck and hugs me. Her thick, black hair has grown long enough that it hangs over her ears and past her neck in the back. As she presses her cheek against mine, a few strands tickle my face.
“Wuv-u, Daddy,” she says.
“I love you too,” I whisper in her ear. “Have a wonderful morrow.”
After I lower Aven’s feet to the grass, Kyra takes her hand and guides her still wobbly, sometimes unsure gait into the caverns of Home. Part of me feels guilty for not spending the morrow with my daughter, but in the year that I’ve permanently been in Krymzyn, this the first time I’ve gone out to do something just for fun with anyone other than Sash or Aven. Even though I was a bit of a loner on Earth, hanging out with friends or family for a day at the beach or an evening movie was always important to me.
When I arrive at the Delta entrance, I find Tela already waiting for me by the gate. I stop by the rack against the wall to grab a pair of soft, leathery boots and then walk to where she’s standing.
“What took you so long?” she impatiently asks.
“I had to take Aven to Home,” I answer.
“You should have woken up earlier.”
She tries to scowl at me but can’t stop a smile from coming to her lips.
“Very funny,” I say. “Maybe you should have slept later.”
“If I’d slept any later, the morrow would be gone,” she quips.
Still smiling, she hands me a Traveler’s canister full of sap. After I hang it around my neck, we both slip our boots on our feet. Walking side by side, we exit the Delta through the high-arched gate and cross over the bridge.
“We’ll go towards the Mount for a few miles before heading south,” Tela explains when we reach the road past the bridge. “We’ll never stay close to the river for very long. If we see Murkovin, we don’t want to get trapped in between them and the water.”
“Like they could catch us,” I say.
“I know,” she replies, “but it’s protocol for when we take children to the Infinite Expanse.”
“Is this the same route we use to go to the Great Falls?”
“Essentially,” she answers. “Remember landmarks along the way so you can use them to find your way in the future.”
I’ve noticed that my memory has improved dramatically since being in Krymzyn, maybe a byproduct of living on nothing but sap, or maybe an enhancement Krymzyn made to my brain when I was brought here permanently. Although my memory hasn’t increased to the “instant recall from years ago” level that people born here have, I distinctly remember
