Marya felt a painful peace settling over her eyes and heart. She was terrified, yes, and dread bubbled in her stomach, but she had come to a decision she’d never thought she’d reach. She had found a line of resistance so far into enemy territory that it scared her…because had she always known she could and would go this far?
But now she was done. More than done.
Cay Vojen squinted up from the dusty road. There were no flames, but the driver had fallen back a few paces, an expression of terror on his face.
“That…what…”
Cay lifted his head and looked back. The orb was fading to a menacing shimmer, and not a shot had been fired. What could it mean?
The driver was almost bent double as he approached them, but he held out a steady hand to help Zinnia up.
“Into the coach!” he offered.
They hesitated.
Cay looked into the driver’s face. The man must realize that the device they’d just watched disappear was more than a match for the walls of a coach, and given that only three of them were left of the original eight he must be aware of the danger, but he was offering anyway. The passengers, too, were nodding from the window, although they kept peering up at the sky anxiously.
As Cay pulled himself up, he watched Zinnia crouch again to put her hand on Jor’s shoulder, and for a brief moment everything was clear.
They couldn’t keep going like they’d been doing, just the three of them, struggling, or before too long Joran wouldn’t get up out of the dust.
For so long, Cay had wished himself something more than the clumsy farm boy who always said the wrong thing. Now it was finally true, but he realized that he hadn’t arrived. He, all three of them, needed keep going, keep growing, or they were doomed to failure.
He wasn’t sure what had gone through Zinnia’s mind, but after that split second their eyes met and acknowledged their shared fear and certainty.
“Thank you, sir!”
Cay hauled Joran up, moved toward the coach as Zinnia asked,
“Are you going to the capital?”
“Right to the center,” the man replied, glancing over his shoulder as he swung back up to his seat.
Joran, stiffening his spine resolutely, gestured for Cay to enter the coach first, which he managed without tripping on either step – only to fall over someone’s foot and faceplant into a lady’s shoes.
Wincing in embarrassment, Cay scrambled to his feet and sat down across from her, ignoring whatever Joran was mumbling.
“Er, sorry, ma’am. I’ve always been clumsy.”
She smiled at him over her glasses.
“There’s no problem at all, young man. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through if the three of you were part of a King’s Group. Is there any way we could help?”
Cay sat back in his seat, his shoulders relaxing a little for the first time in a long time.
Zinnia Questel climbed thoughtfully after Joran into the coach. Had he really just cracked a joke? She didn’t think he’d even laughed since Solldero’s death. Maybe he was healing. Sitting down across from him, she heard the lady next to her say,
“Perhaps I could help in some way?”
Cay looked instantly relieved, a tiny muscle that had been strained in his temple relaxing. Zinn wondered if he should be so trusting, but the woman’s next words removed all distrust.
“I am a cartographer; not especially good yet, I’m afraid, but perhaps I could help you with the clues.”
Zinn met Joran’s eyes. They both heard it, and Cay, too, from the way his eyes were widening.
The woman looked from one to another.
“Is something wrong? You were provided with clues, I assume?”
“Yes, we were given clues,” Cay responded slowly. “Uh, sorry. We just…it just seemed like…”
He trailed off, not sure of how to explain.
She tilted her head thoughtfully but didn’t speak.
The other two occupants of the coach, a young man and a somber, older gentleman, looked around uncomfortably in the growing silence.
The woman shook her head slightly.
“A good friend of mine and his wife are the royal librarians in the capital city. And I believe this gentleman here is a former soldier.”
“And I’m close to graduating from King Gejore University,” the young man added. “We may be able to help.”
“Wash the rain,” Zinna said to her folded hands. She hoped it wasn’t Okner’s parents the lady knew…but at the same time they needed the answers that only Okner had been able to find.
She looked up.
The young man was staring at her in confusion, and to her disappointment, both the lady and the older gentleman merely looked thoughtful.
“This was the clue you were given?” the young man asked in disbelief. “How could you possibly figure it out? You’re just, well, kids!”
Zinn just stared back at him. He wasn’t wrong.
“If I may ask,” the gentleman put in, “What were the previous clues and their solutions, if you found them?”
“’Open the door’ was the first one,” Cay offered. “And it meant to open the Doar blockade.”
“But that’s impossible! The blockade is heavily guarded by the finest soldiers at all times.” The gentleman seemed almost affronted; Zinn wondered whether it was at the idea of someone breaking through the Doar or that action being assigned to a group of teens.
Joran, looking pale, said,
“The second clue was ‘clear the sky’. We…cleared gangs from under the river Skye.”
The university student opened his mouth, then slowly closed it again. He looked from Joran’s face to Zinnia’s to Cay’s.
“I’m sorry,” he said, finally.
The silence stretched out again, but Zinn let his words brush gently up against the cluster of pain in her, feeling an inkling of something akin to peace.
Joran Arundasi didn’t want to return to reality. But he’d been sitting for more than a few minutes, head and wrists dangling, ignoring the others’ discussion, and now Zinnia’s foot – which had been tapping gently against his the whole time – was no longer comforting but warning. He lifted his head and followed her gaze to the lady.
“I’m sure this gentleman is correct,” she was saying, and Cay’s face was so open and wondering listening to her that Joran felt another joke tickle his lips.
“But if so, it seems unlikely that you all would be expected to know the acronymic name of a specific military group, especially given that it is interior and this close to the king. Does this clue seem more difficult than the first two?”
She paused, waiting for an answer, but Jor could only glance at Zinnia and shrug.
“I mean…it’s all about doing things, you know?”
He waited for someone to roll their eyes or laugh, but they all turned to him expectantly. Joran struggled on.
“I mean, we did something each time. Changed something. Maybe big things. And…that’s what the devices are for, aren’t they?”
The question hung in the air.