Luca grabs my arm and gently tugs me beneath the water. I hold my breath as I slide under, taking care to make as small a movement as possible.
I exhale out my nose so that I sink lower, easing my eyes open beneath the clear pool and catching sight of Luca doing the same. We wait in tense silence as a shadow passes over our heads, darkening the blue water. A cold shiver runs up my spine and I feel Luca's fingers dig more deeply into my flesh.
The shadow seems endless. A low burn constricts my lungs and I pray fervently that the ship will pass soon. I wonder if the airships occupants have seen us already; it's possible that we could emerge and already be surrounded. From the grip Luca has on my arm I can tell that he has assumed the ship is manned by Will and the soldiers but a prophetic sinking feeling in my stomach makes me suspect something else. Something ominous.
Finally, mercifully the water brightens again. We wait another full minute until I feel as though my lungs will burst before Luca pulls us to the surface.
I gasp and suck in low, careful lungfuls, trying to remain silent as Luca shields his eyes from the sun and watches the tail end of the ship disappear behind a dune. I get my breathing back under control just as he turns around to face me.
"That's not the ship I came in on." I say before he has a chance to speak.
"Are those your people?" I recognize the flicker of distrust crossing his features.
"I don't know." I tell him honestly. "I don't see how they could be. Our ship would be patched on the left side and this one was not. Even if Will was able to repair Phoenix and get word back to the Palace to send another ship, they wouldn't be able to make it this far into the Wastelands already."
Luca nods, his eyes tracing the path the ship just took. "We should see where it is headed."
"If we hurry we might still be able to see it from the top of the dune." I tell him, turning and striding hurriedly back towards the shore.
We dress quickly. I pull on my boots and check that my dagger is within easy reach before jogging towards the base of the dune after Luca, scrambling up it and leaving the pristine oasis at our backs.
We near the top of the dune and slow down, crawling up the last few feet carefully as we peek over the top of the hill. I peer down the ridge, taking care to keep my shoulders pressed low to the sand. The airship has landed on a flat patch of land and I watch as someone tosses a length of rope over the side. The lower hatch opens and a figure clad in dark clothing jumps the few feet to the ground, grabbing hold of the loosed rope and tethering it to the earth.
I squint, shielding my eyes in an effort to see clearly. A ramp is lowered through the open hatch and several people file out. I count quickly, estimating at least four dozen soldiers on the ground and an unknown number still inside the ship.
Their clothes are unfamiliar, dark and glinting in the morning sunlight. They wear heavy scarves wrapped fully around their heads and carry some sort of narrow weapon, possibly a sword, attached to their hips.
The ship is undoubtedly one of the City's but I don't recognize any of the people gathered in the desert below. I wonder briefly if Meg could have dispatched another airship after Phoenix but the style and dress of these people is all wrong. My gut twists in warning and I duck back behind the dune.
Luca lowers his head and slides down a little ways so that he is level with me.
"What do you make of it?" He keeps his voice low but I can sense the lingering doubt in his tone.
"I don't think they're from the City." I wrinkle my brow, trying to think. "I don't recognize anyone and I have never seen those weapons or uniforms before."
"They are the ones who take us." My heart lurches as I stare at him, wide-eyed. His broad shoulders are drawn up in anger and his jaw is set tightly. I bite my lip and speak slowly, unsure of what Luca is capable of and wary of him doing something we would both regret.
"I need to get closer." I tell him firmly. I stare at him until he is forced to look at me. I meet his gaze head-on, willing him to focus. "Can you cause a distraction so I can go check it out?"
"I must see these people for myself." He answers and I can tell that he is struggling to be patient with me. "You can be the distraction."
I blink, taken-aback. "I am the best one to go."
"What makes you say that? I am the one who knows this desert."
"I don't need to 'know the desert', they're right over there. I am the thief, this is what I do."
"I will not be leading a chase while you get to go to the ship." He fairly huffs and I clench my jaw.
"Well we can't both go." I bite down a sigh of frustration. Were I working with anyone else this would not be a discussion.
"Perhaps we can." He slides further down the dune and sits up, whipping his bow out from under his shoulder and selecting an arrow.
"Are you going to pick them off one-by-one?" I ask drily. "I don't think you have enough arrows."
"There is a dried patch of brush just South of that dune." He ignores my sarcasm and busies himself searching for something inside the pouch at his belt. "I am going to draw them towards it."
I watch as he extracts a vial of oil and piece of flint. He tears off a dry portion of his tunic and douses it in the oil, wrapping it hurriedly around the point of the arrow. My eyes widen in understanding.
"You should shoot from back here, if you can." I tell him. "Or else they might be able to see where the arrow came from."
He nods and slides lower, me trailing in his wake. He strikes the flint over the oiled rag until it catches and the tip of the arrow blazes to life. He draws his bow up smoothly and points it in a high arc over the dune, aiming South.
"I can't see anything." I tell him, "Are you sure you can hit it?"
"I'm sure." He replies calmly, releasing the flaming arrow in one fluid motion.
I hold my breath as I trace the path of the arrow over the dune, my heart pounding heavily in my chest while I silently count off the seconds. Nearly a full minute passes and nothing happens.
"What if-" I start.
"Just wait."
Shouts from below. There is the distant crackling of flames and I glance over at Luca, watching as a satisfied smile pulls at his lips. "Let's go."
We move laterally around the dune, heading away from the burning brush and towards the back of the ship. We move carefully around the side of the hill, shuffling and sliding as the docked airship begins to come into view around the bend.
The majority of the group has gathered near the edges of the plateau, looking towards the fire. A small party is being led towards the brush, their weapons drawn. The remaining soldiers are glued to the sight, unconcerned as they stand with their hands casually gripping the hilts of their weapons. Flickers of orange and yellow light dance across the amassed strangers and a heavy grey smoke has begun seeping out of the brush towards the ship.
Luca and I reach the bottom of the dune and scurry towards the stern of the ship, our feet soundless on the soft sand. We reach the wooden undercarriage and rest with our backs to it, flattening ourselves against the polished wood. I strain to pick up any sounds from within, holding my breath in an effort to remain as silent as possible.
"We need to be quick." Luca breathes, his voice hot in my ear. "You first."
I nod and move to stand so that I am facing the ship. Luca makes a platform over his knee with his hands and I step up onto them, gripping the ledge as he hoists me agiley. I stand supported by him, peering over the edge and glancing about.
The ship is dark and shadowed but appears mercifully empty. I use my forearms to pull myself over the ledge before leaning out and lending a hand to Luca. He jumps up, kicking off the side of the ship and grabbing my outstretched fingers.
I pull him inside, standing back to give him room. I can hear the flames of the brushfire still crackling hungrily but sense that our window is slipping away with every passing second. I cross quickly to the bow of the ship to search for something, anything that can give me a clue about where these people came from.
I find a pile of papers scattered near the dash and grab them, ducking down low in case anyone from the ground looks back towards us. I wrinkle my brow as I search through the notes, the markings on them unfamiliar to my eyes.
Luca has moved to the middle of the ship and is struggling with the hatch door. I curse under my breath and scramble towards him, shoving the various papers into the pouch at my waist as I do so.
"This is just the escape hatch." I hiss at him. "It opens directly outside."
"There is more here." He grunts, straining at the lock. "Help me or get out of the way."
I open my mouth to protest when I notice something; the height of the ledges inside this ship are shorter than the ones on Phoenix. Is it possible that the floor has been raised?
"Move." I command, shoving Luca aside and pulling out my dagger. I insert the point of the knife into the keyhole of the dagger and feel around inside the mechanism, my fingers light on the hilt and sensitive to the inner workings of the apparatus.
The lock springs open. Luca helps me lift the hatch door, cushioning its fall so that it doesn't rattle against the floor. Darkness looms from below, greeting us ominously.
Luca jumps down immediately, disappearing into the room below. I jump down after him, blinking in the gloom until a light flares up between us. Luca swings his torch to the side and I stifle a gasp, my stomach heaving.
Cages. Dozens of them.
They are lined up against both sides of the hidden room, empty and foreboding. Large enough for a human, heavy and crafted securely with wood and steel. I whip my head back and forth, suddenly overcome with a rush of nausea I haven't felt since discovering Harmen's torture chamber. I know immediately what it is I am seeing.
"We have to get out of here." I breathe. Luca has taken off down the length of the ship, thrusting his torch into the various cages and leaving me beneath the open hatch door. Who are these people? For what dark purpose would they need to capture and cage the Wastelanders?
"Luca." I hiss. I strain to hear the sounds of the brushfire outside, unable to pick up on anything down here. The soldiers could be making their way back to the ship at this very moment for all I know.
"Luca." I grab his arm when he runs past me but he yanks free and sprints to check the cages at the other end of the ship. I curse and jump to grip the top of the hatch, pulling myself up and scurrying to the front window. I crouch behind the dash and peer over, cursing again when I see a group of soldiers returning from the extinguished brush and heading towards the ship.
I dart back to the hatch, jumping when a large hand suddenly appears and Luca hoists himself bodily up. I help him lower the hatch door silently.
"They're coming." I indicate the back of the ship and we hurry towards it, leaping out simultaneously and landing in the soft sand below.
Luca makes to move back towards the dune but I throw my arm across his chest, holding him in place. We stand with our backs pressed against the undercarriage, ears perked as heavy footsteps sound from around the side of the undercarriage.
I hold my breath, sending a quick prayer up to the gods as the steps draw closer. Beside me Luca reaches slowly for his bow, drawing an arrow and notching it. The sound of shifting sand slows and stops. I can feel Luca's heart pounding heavily in his chest in time with my own as we wait in anxious silence, preparing for the stranger to draw around the back of the ship and catch sight of us.
"What started the fire?" A voice speaks in a strangely melodious accent from only a few feet away and I stiffen.
"I'm not sure." There are two of them. Luca's grip on his bow tightens and I place my hand over his, willing him to wait. "We didn't find anything."
"Strange, isn't it? There must be some Wasters near here." The first voice speaks again.
"Those savages are everywhere, you can never tell." The derision with which he speaks sparks a rage in my heart and I clench my jaw tightly, forcing myself to draw slow, even breaths.
"Once we clear out their camp there will be a great deal less of them to deal with." There is an unsettling businesslike manner to the conversation that sets all of my instincts on high alert. "The second ship is already on its way and its supplies of nerve gas are enough to incapacitate the lot of them. We'll have our pick of the litter."
"That should keep the Madam pleased for a while." I wrinkle my brow. Who is the Madam and what does she want with the Wasters?
"We'll see about that. I don't know if she will ever be satisfied." There is a pause as some distant command sounds near the front of the ship. Mercifully the footsteps trudge away.
Seconds pass. I strain to listen for any more nearby sounds and gradually unclench, feeling Luca's shoulders loosen next to me. We wait another moment before Luca looks cautiously around the side and signals for us to run.
I keep my steps as silent as possible while we dart back towards the dune, not bothering to check over my shoulder to see if we are within sight of anyone. I scramble up the hill after Luca and roll in behind it, sinking down onto the soft sand.
My heart pounds mightily in my chest as I try desperately to sort through what we have just seen and heard. So many cages, enough to hold nearly the entire population of Pic di Cir. What does it mean? Who are those people? And why do they have one of our City ships?
Luca breathes heavily next to me, sitting up and resting his head in his hands. I stare at his back, noticing the way the still-damp tunic sticks to his skin and reveals the blue-black tattoos through the fabric. His brother, Noah was held in one of those cages. Captured and spirited away to gods-know-where. My heart twists in my chest and I tentatively lay a hand on his shoulder. He twitches beneath my touch but stays still, his breaths shuddering until he brings himself back under control.
"I'm so sorry." I whisper, unsure of what else to say,
He raises his head, turning to look back at me. There is something unrecognizable in his eyes, something vulnerable and harsh at the same time.
"Who are they?" He asks, his fists digging into the soft sand below us.
"I don't know." I say helplessly. Remembering suddenly I grab the pouch at my waist, yanking it open and pulling free the assorted papers I took from the ship. "Do these mean anything to you?" I thrust the papers towards him.
His brow furrows as he accepts the parchments, studying them. I wait anxiously as he looks through each one, watching his face intently for any signs of understanding. He casts aside one paper and looks at another, his grip suddenly tightening.
"What is it?" I look over his shoulder, my eyes widening in understanding.
Luca is holding a map. I recognize the familiar curve of the river, above it an ominous red X marking a location a short distance from where the dried riverbed begins turning South.
Pic dil Cir.
"We have to warn them." I whisper. "Get them out."
"How could they know about our camp?" Luca's voice is low, menacing. I feel my shoulders draw up in tension again.
"There is no time to worry about that now, Luca." I urge, mindful of my words and the tenuous grasp he has on his temper. "We need to focus."
My mind is racing. We have to get back to the camp. All those people, those families, they're sitting ducks for the incoming ship full of nerve gas. I forcefully push aside the dark thoughts churning through my head, dismissing the twisted part of my brain that wonders what these psychos intend to do with their caged Wasters. All I need to know for the time being is that anyone who travels the Wastelands in a City-sanctioned airship stocked to the brim with human-sized cages is very, very dangerous. I need to concentrate on the immediate problem of evacuating the Waster camp as soon as possible.
"Come on." I slide past Luca down the dune, looking up to see if he is following. "You need to get us back to camp before the airship gets there."
He tucks the map hastily into his pouch and slides down next to me, both of us kicking up trails of sand in our hurry. We break into a run on the flattened ground, Luca leading us around the far side of the dunes on a roundabout route past the airships. My heart beats heavily in panicked bursts as we sprint towards the camp.
Some distance away the mysterious soldiers of the Madam are preparing to lift back into the air. I can only pray that we make it back to Pic dil Cir before they do. I push myself harder, fear and determination spurring me onwards as I try unsuccessfully to force aside the ominous warning reverberating through my mind.
We may already be too late.