With a swirl of umber and gold, Mom, or at least the Freesoul who so uncannily looked like her, passed beyond the parade ground and out of sight. I ran after her as if possessed, the blood surging into my head. If she was here, then I was sold. This place had to be Heaven, or at least some reasonable facsimile.
I dashed across the open space and cut into the mass of huts and lean-tos that filled most of the space between the outer and inner walls, hoping catch up to her on the main thoroughfare, a lane about twenty feet wide that hugged the slick, pale slope of the inner wall.
Lille had told us that it ringed the Sanctuary—the exclusive domain of Frelsi’s Freesoul population. While the outer wall was riddled with gaps, each unguarded, the Sanctuary had only two outlets and both were under heavy guard. Hemis could enter for work, but every last one of them had to leave by nightfall.
Careening down the narrow, twisting passages between huts, cutting through vacant shanties, leaping over cots and benches, I broke out onto the main road and straight into a jam. A convoy of huge Reaper-drawn wagons had just pulled in from a spoke-like side road and had compressed all of the traffic trying to go the other way.
I caught a glimpse of Mom just beyond the tie-up. As I squirmed past the jam, a six-legged Reaper hauling one of the big wagons growled and lunged at me. I leapt aside, straight into a man laden with a bundle of empty gourds so large it made him resemble an ant carrying a peanut. His gourds went clattering to the ground.
“So sorry!”
The man didn’t even look at me. He just shrugged and put his mind to recovering his load.
“You fool! Never get in a Reaper’s way,” said the wagon driver. “I don’t care if it’s muzzled.”
I ignored him, my eyes glued to the patch of gold and umber rapidly receding up the lane. The Reaper took advantage of my inattention to take another swipe at me. It knocked me down and slobbered over me until the driver hopped off his seat and beat it back with his sturdy staff.
Even for a Reaper, this was a particularly nasty-looking beast, a wart-studded snout that dripped with drool. If the cage-like muzzle strapped to its mouthparts was any indication, this one had nipped at passersby before.
I sidled away and shoved my way through the backup, dodging around the wagons, trying desperately to catch up with Mom. A Freesoul in a long, cobalt blue coat stood beside the inner wall, watching me.
Caught in the flow of the crowd, I had no choice but to brush past him. He grabbed my wrist as I went by and hauled me aside, slamming me against the wall.
“What’s all this rushing about, Hemi? Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I’m … I saw … my mom,” I said, all flustered. “I need to go. She’s getting away!”
“Your … mother?” he said with a smirk. “Where’s your working party? Where’ve you been assigned? Don’t you realize we’re at war, boy?”
“I’m new here,” I said, craning my neck, trying to keep tabs on Mom, but I had already lost sight of her.
He flipped my wrist over. “You … have no mark!” He seemed almost repelled to have touched me.
“Like I told you. I’m new.”
“But you can’t be here, un-vetted,” he said. “Come with me. I’m going to have to take you back outside these walls.”
I yanked my arm free and dove under one of the huge, Reaper-drawn wagons a large wagon that was rolling past. I scrambled beneath it, barely avoiding being crushed by the massive wheels.
