Ever sat in the prow of the longboat, enjoying the feel of the cold ocean spray on her face as the craft scudded along the gentle waves of Jerusalem Sound. In the middle distance the water was a sheet of hammered gold in the sunlight. The day had grown warmer since morning. Rolan sat behind her, scribbling into a journal, as Chy and Acel manned two sets of long oars. The rhythmic splash-sweep of the oar-blades churning the dark water around their boat joined the high calling of gulls in a sort of nautical harmony. If she ignored the fact that they were fleeing for their lives and leaving their families to defend their homes against their mortal enemies, it was almost pleasant.
Their conversation in the clearing had helped break the tension they were all feeling. For a time Acel and Chy had seemed almost merry, taking to the oars of the boat eagerly and commenting on what a blessing the calm sea and beautiful weather was. Rolan had taken the opportunity to make notes in his diary, claiming he wanted to document it while the events of the morning—had they only left Bountiful that morning?—were still fresh in his mind. It was all a façade, of course; they had made the decision to go on and now had to live with it. It was the right one, Ever knew, but that didn't mean they would ever feel good about making it.
Ever, having nothing to do in the boat, sat in the bow and tried to avoid speculating about the fate of everyone and everything she cared about in the world.
She sighed, shading her eyes against the sunlight and turning back to look at her companions.
"That's the Sunken City ahead, isn't it?"
In the midst of Jerusalem Sound, jutting haphazardly out of the water like a set of broken teeth, were the ruins of a settlement of the Old People so luxurious that it made the crumbling foundations of the mansions that once adorned Golden Neck look small and poor in comparison.
" 'So great did their pride and avarice grow, that they built houses that walked upon the waves, in mimicry of the Savior,' " quoted Rolan, closing his journal and slipping it into the top of his pack.
"Let's hope we fare better than they did," grunted Acel over his shoulder.
Only God knew what the true name of the floating city had been; the Blessed knew it as nothing but a long-abandoned ruin. The people of Bountiful had long ago dubbed it the Sunken City, for that was what it was: a grand grouping of once-beautiful palaces that had fallen beneath the waves.
It hadn't floated, exactly: you could still see the remains of graceful pylons arching brokenly out of the water. They had once held massive leaf-shaped platforms dozens of feet above the Sound. On those platforms were built immense structures of fantastical design: leaping arches and high towers, all in beautiful shades of white and ivory and celadon and coral. All of it was shattered and drowned, now, the blade-like tips of the platforms jutting out of the water at every angle, the domes and towers no more than barnacle-encrusted hulks that breathed and swam with the changing of the tides.
"They used to move," Rolan said.
"What did?"
"The platforms. They were mechanized, somehow; built on struts anchored in the seafloor, but they could move around, change position."
"Why?" asked Ever.
"The better for the lords and ladies of the Old People to enjoy their views," said Rolan, nodding to the east, where the Marvel Sound joined Jerusalem Sound and flowed into the wide Atlantic.
"I overheard Elder Betenson talking about it once," Rolan explained. "My father told me he was as keen on the relics of the Old People as Elder Haglund when he was younger."
The children of Bountiful—the boys, mostly—had all grown up telling stories about the Sunken City. How it was filled with mermaids, and sea monsters, and gigantic crabs that would as soon eat you as look at you. Some were stories of adventure, but most were stories made up to help young boys frighten the wits out of each other when they were up past their bedtime.
"Only the richest of the rich lived there," said Acel. "The most powerful of the Old People, before the Fall. They built it to show how God-like they were. Look at it now."
Ever remembered the look on Acel's face when her foster father had told him to take one of the longboats across the Sound. He'd looked concerned, scared even—what was he worried about?
"Why don't we just go around, Acel?" Ever asked, but Acel shook his head reluctantly.
"Your father was right to tell us to go straight across. The Sunken City may be bad, but the ruins take up most of the center of the Sound. The alternative is to pass close by the old Jerusalem wharves, and there will likely be Marmacks nearby."
No craft significantly larger than their boat could have passed through the ruins safely. The jagged remains of the structures, steel and stone and more exotic materials, often lurked just below the surface, waiting to tear up the hull of the unwary sailor. The Blessed rarely sailed larger craft—where would they go?—and the longboats had shallow enough drafts to coast safely through most of the detritus.
Jerusalem Sound was less than two miles across at its narrowest point. They were almost halfway across now, well within the outer boundaries of the ruins. Rolan offered to take over for either Acel or Chy, but both shook their heads. Ever had to admit to a growing feeling of unease as they drew into the most concentrated part of the ruins. The platform sections, many of them jutting almost vertically out of the water, loomed over their boat as the boys guided it through. Ever didn't blame them for preferring to have something to do other than look around.
The water grew choppier as they drifted into the more crowded center of the ruins, green waves slapping hollowly against the tilted platform fragments and jostling their boat. Much longer in this kind of chop and we'll all be hanging over the sides, thought Ever. The strangeness of their surroundings did nothing to help her roiling stomach.
"Do you feel it?" Acel said suddenly. He slowed his rowing for a moment and Ever saw the back of his head move slowly from side to side. She knew at once that he wasn't talking about seasickness.
"Yes," said Ever, at the same time that Rolan and Chy did. Chy and Acel turned around, stopping the oars completely, and all four of them stared at each other in surprise.
"It's like there's something—" said Rolan.
"Wrong," finished Chy, licking his lips nervously. The boat bobbed on the water, its prow drifting slowly out of course with no oars to guide it.
"We should keep going," said Ever. Acel nodded heartily in agreement and he and Chy began rowing again with new vigor.
The feeling was subtle, like the first, nagging tingle of illness that reveals its true nature only after a high fever has blossomed in your head, and it was growing. The four companions didn't need to talk about it to know they all wanted to get out of the Sunken City as soon as they could.
Ever turned back to resume her watch from the prow. They had just passed beneath the underside of a tall, twisted shard of stone and metal when she saw it.
Perched at the edge of a pearlescent, leaf-shaped platform tip that jutted out of the water a few short yards in front of them was a creature unlike any she had ever seen. She hadn't noticed it at first because it was completely still and had skin of a bluish gray that blended in very well with the soft colors of the ruins and the cloudy blue sky. It had a slick appearance, like its skin was wet.
Ever froze. She must have given herself away, because the creature moved suddenly, unfolding itself from the strange crouch it had been in and standing—how can it stand? What is it?
Before Ever had a chance to warn anyone, she heard Rolan cry out in shock.
"What's that?" he yelled. Acel and Chy spun in their seats to look.
Silhouetted more clearly against the sky now, Ever could see that it had a vaguely human form, though its limbs were oddly shaped and it seemed to have a heavy tail that dragged behind it on the smooth, sun-beaten surface of the crooked platform. Apparently hearing Rolan's outburst, the creature opened its beak-like maw and let out a high-pitched, clicking cry.
Ever put her hands over her ears. A chorus of like noises from around their boat answered the creature's call. The creature loped strangely up to the tip of the leaf-shaped platform it was on and dove smoothly off, entering the water with a small splash off their port bow.
"Surrounded," barked Acel.
"What?" yelled Ever.
"They've got us surrounded."
"Father in heaven," Rolan murmured, closing his eyes.
Acel jerked his head sharply at Chy and they began rowing faster.
"What are they?"
"The things that live here," he said.
"I only saw the one!" shouted Ever. No more of the creatures had appeared, but the chirping, bark-like calls still repeated at various points around them.
"Trust me, there's more of them," said Acel, concentrating on rowing the boat. "We have to get out of here, as quickly as we can."
Hearing a sudden plop and a splash from beyond the starboard rail, Ever looked over to find the creature poking its shiny, domed head above the water. It chattered at her. She let out a short screech before clapping a hand over her mouth and staring at the thing that seemed to be looking at her.
Its eyes were on the sides of its head, deep, large, and black; its head was cocked to the right, one round eye squinting out of its slippery gray face to examine her.
"Ever!" Acel yelled, struggling to turn the boat away from it.
It opened its beak again, silently this time. If she didn't know better she might have thought it was grinning at her. It had a single row of cone-like white teeth lining the inside of its silvery lips; a pointed pink tongue curled languidly in its mouth. The creature opened and closed its mouth several times in a row.
Ever maintained eye contact with the creature—it was almost as if it wanted her to, though she knew how crazy that idea was. She heard Acel passing off his oars to Rolan and then he was at her side, pulling her away from the gunwale. When she refused to take her eyes off the creature, Elder Higbee gave her a gentle shake.
"Ever!" he said. "Sister Ballard!"
Ever looked at him dazedly, shaking her head and blinking her eyes to clear the growing lightheadedness she was feeling.
"I think...it's okay," she said. "I don't think it wants to hurt us."
"It's not okay," said Acel firmly, sitting her down next to him. "Rolan, Chy: row. Now."
"What is it?" asked Ever again.
"It's one of the Damned," said Acel.
"But it didn't seem...." She trailed off, looking past Acel to where the creature's head bobbed above the choppy water. They had begun to pull away from it, but when Ever met its eye again it continued to keep pace with them, swimming smoothly and easily alongside the longboat. It was clearly a smart animal: it was careful to stay just outside of the sweep of the oars, and it occasionally looked at Chy, Rolan, and Acel, as if to make sure they weren't making any threatening movements.
Ever felt a warm feeling in her skull, almost like a mild headache. It wasn't just physical, however—it was a sensation she'd had before. It was like—like an arithmetic problem you can't solve, she thought, or the feeling of untangling one of Elder Betenson's iron puzzles. She felt convinced there was something just beyond thought that she couldn't quite grasp. It was like forgetting something, or like having a word on the tip of your tongue that you just couldn't remember.
"It won't leave," said Rolan.
"Row harder," said Chy, grunting with effort as he heaved his considerable bulk against the wooden oars. Acel was fiddling with something on his pack by Ever's side but she was too distracted by the strange spell the Damned had put her under to see what.
A small part of Ever's mind rebelled at what she was doing. She couldn't help but try to reason through what was happening; it felt right. Squinting in concentration, her hands clenched in fists, she focused all her thought on the wet, black eye. She tried to swim into it, as if it were a small ocean itself, dark and warm and comforting. It wouldn't hurt her. It was an invitation. Ever reached out to it—
"Ever, watch out," she heard Acel say. Then he was standing, blocking her view, and she could see the butt of his rifle against his shoulder.
"No!" she screamed, rising. She got her hand under the stock of the rifle just in time to send the shot high and wide, unintentionally pushing Acel over the bench into Rolan's back as she did so. There was cursing and yelling, but just then something popped in Ever's mind: all other noise ceased. She heard a distant voice, as if overhearing a conversation in another room. It grew louder.
...are you...
You? She responded instinctually, not with her voice but with her mind, speaking to the voice in her head as if with a new organ of speech she didn't even know she had.
...Who are...
Who am I?
Acel had struggled to his feet between Chy and Rolan. Before she could stop him, he shouldered his rifle again and fired another shot. It cracked loud in the ocean air and hit the water with a whispered splash. He didn't seem to be trying to hit the creature this time, but he was definitely trying to scare it away. It disappeared under the water and Ever panicked. What was this? What had happened? If it left, how would she—
...you.
She looked aft and saw that it had appeared again, surfacing for a moment in the gentle wake left by the longboat, just long enough to look at her one last time. Dropping into her seat, suddenly tired, Ever looked down at her hands and saw that her fingernails had bitten deeply into her palms. There were half-moon shaped marks on her skin, one of which was oozing blood.
Acel came forward to where she was sitting and bent over to look into her eyes the way Sister Hales might peer into the eyes of a person with a head injury. Sitting down next to her again, he dabbed at her hand with a scrap of bandage then passed her his water skin. He stayed next to her for the rest of the ride across the Sound. She didn't object; she didn't speak at all. She was completely overwhelmed by what had just happened and right then she wanted nothing more than to be left alone.
Moments later they sailed out of the Sunken City into calmer, open waters. Ever drifted off, feeling as if she were floating outside her body, bobbing and flowing in the cold water below the boat.
* * *
She came back to herself when she felt the keel of the boat scrape against sand. They had come to the far side of Jerusalem Sound. Their crossing had taken a couple of hours, and only that long because of the delays in the Sunken City. Looking up at the sun's position in the sky, Ever could tell that it was only mid-morning. Then why does it feel like I've been awake for days?
Elder Higbee insisted on making a fire and preparing a hot meal.
"There's no sense wasting the opportunity while we have it," he explained. "We ought to keep fires to a minimum until we get out of Marmack territory anyway." Nonetheless, he had Chy keep the fire small. Sound enough reasoning, Ever supposed, but she knew perfectly well that what he was really worried about was her.
The sacks of kindling and small boxes of fatwood had been lost with the packhorses, but there was plenty of dry wood on the beach and Elder Bingham built a fire quickly with flint and steel and various sizes of kindling he chopped out of the driftwood with his knife. He dug a pit in the sand first and built the fire at the bottom to hide the flames.
"It's too bad we didn't put a baited line in the water while we crossed," said Elder Bingham, adding driftwood to the flames. "Some fish would go over nice right now."
Elder Belnap looked at him like he'd lost control of his senses.
"Beans are fine for me," said Rolan, his arms wrapped around his knees. "I'd just as soon avoid fish for a while." No one had to ask what he meant.
"There'll be plenty of opportunities to hunt and fish," Acel said. "We left a good deal of our food back in Bountiful. We'll be foraging a lot sooner than we planned as it is. And look at it this way: the more of our stores we eat, the lighter our packs get." And the emptier our bellies get, too, thought Ever.
Chy and Acel were seasoned hunters, good with rifle and bow, and everyone raised in Bountiful knew from childhood how to identify more than a dozen edible plants that grew in the wild. Experienced or not, though, it was always risky to rely on hunting and foraging to feed yourself, a risk the Blessed as a whole refused to take. Their storehouses, chock full of preserved food, were testament enough to that. They're also what make the apostates want to attack us.
But then, if that were the case, why had the Marmacks bombarded them so haphazardly? She chewed her food slowly and worried.
They ate beans and brown bread and jam. Rolan pointed across the Sound at one point and commented that smoke no longer rose over Bountiful. Ever allowed herself a moment of hope that the Blessed had fought off the attackers again and kept the village safe. Ever giggled when she saw that Chy, who had decided to finish off the last of the jam with nothing but his fingers and enthusiasm, had a broad, berry-colored smear across his face.
"What?" he said. Acel shoved him good-naturedly and tossed him a rag.
Ever decided to take the opportunity to pry whatever it was Elder Higbee knew about the Sunken City out of him while she had the chance.
"So what aren't you telling us, Acel?" she asked.
He looked at her sharply across the fire pit.
"What do you mean?"
"You know something about those things we saw back there. You knew to avoid them—you'd rather kill one than let me near it. And you weren't too pleased when my father told you to go this way."
Acel looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he didn't pretend ignorance.
"When I was a boy, Coll Hamblin and I borrowed his father's boat to go fishing in the Sound," he said, idly breaking up a twig and tossing it into the fire. "The biggest fish are farther out from shore. You can't catch them from the beach."
"Borrowed?" asked Chy, cracking a smile. "Did Elder Hamblin happen to know you borrowed it?"
"Borrowed," affirmed Acel, throwing a twig at him. "Anyway, we started in Marvel Sound and caught one or two, but after a while they just weren't biting. We rowed out to the big Sound, in sight of the ruins, and Coll started talking about how we should try fishing the Sunken City itself."
Rolan gave a soft whistle of surprise and shared a look with Elder Bingham, who raised his eyebrows.
"What?" asked Ever. "Clearly something astounding and boyish has just been uttered."
"Can't fish the Sunken City," said Chy. "You're not supposed to go out there at all."
"Everyone knows that," said Ever. Back before the Marmack attacks started coming again, when children of a certain age were allowed to go outside the holdfast, were prohibited from exploring it. The debris was dangerous.
"But what you don't know is what the Elders threatened every boy in Bountiful with if they broke that rule," said Rolan. Chy and Acel nodded.
"Any boy caught in or around the Sunken City would be banned from applying for the Scouts for two years," explained Acel.
"To this day I don't know why, but eventually I agreed we'd try it," he continued. "Just row inside the outer perimeter, see if the fish were biting. Of course, it turned into a stupid kid's game, each of us daring the other to go farther and farther in, the sort of thing boys do." Rolan and Chy nodded sagely. Ever rolled her eyes.
"So we get in there, near the center, and suddenly we start getting this feeling—the feeling you all felt earlier," Acel said.
Suddenly the humor was leached out of all of them; Ever felt the seriousness of their situation and the story Acel was telling sink back in. It was a discomforting feeling.
"Then we saw one—peering at us from a piece of wreckage. We screamed and Coll started trying to back water. We didn't have bows with us, nothing but our knives. That...awful screeching began, and then more of them started appearing, pulling themselves out of the water onto platforms and struts..."
Acel swallowed drily.
"One of them came out of the water right by the rail, wrapped its claws over the gunwale near the oarlock. Coll was face to face with it for a second or two. He screamed again and swung an oar at it, but awkwardly—they're too heavy to swing like that with one arm. He almost lost the oar overboard. I pushed him out of the way and started rowing like mad.
"We got out of there as quick as we could. I swear I didn't take a breath until we were past the last of the ruins—and even then I was terrified. They were perched there, watching us leave, until we were out of sight. I've never been so afraid in my life."
"Well you made the Scouts at eighteen," said Rolan, "so obviously nobody found out."
"I almost wish we'd admitted it," said Acel, shaking his head. "We were so stupid...we deserved to wait another two years. I swear that's why Coll never wanted to be a Scout, though he wouldn't admit it when I asked him."
"What are they?" asked Ever. "I mean, did you ever find out anything else about them?"
"No. I'm sure the Elders know, because otherwise why the ban? But we never told anyone we were there. It seemed too risky to go around asking questions. Speaking of which," he said, "what happened to you back there, Ever?"
She'd been afraid of this question since they'd gotten to shore. It seemed like the subject everyone was avoiding.
"I—need some time to think about it," she said. "I just—I'm still trying to figure it out myself." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either. The truth was that Ever had indeed begun to suspect what had happened between her and the creature they'd encountered out on the water, but the implications of it were still too overwhelming to put into words.
"We'll hold you to that," said Acel. A few moments later, when everyone had finished eating, he dusted off his hands. "Time to get moving."
They buried the remains of their fire and left the beach. They'd made land at a small point and they forged their way through an overgrown stand of hardwoods to find a narrow old road leading roughly north.
Less than a quarter of a mile inland the trees gave way to a flat, open space paved in the crumbling dark material the Old People used for their roads. Tall weeds and a few small trees had grown through the surface, but the remains of painted lines and a few lonely, rusted out hulks of metal made clear that it had been a storage lot for their powered vehicles.
Useful things could often be found locked in compartments of the ancient engines—the metal itself had proved useful, long ago, when the Blessed had first cleared the northern half of Bountiful's peninsula—but Ever and her companions had no opportunity to start looking.
Sitting in the shade of a tree atop one of the old cars, directly in their path, was a man. He was reclining comfortably, eating an apple, as if he hadn't a care in the world. Acel stopped short as soon as he noticed him, motioning the others to do the same and unslinging his rifle from his shoulder.
"No need for that," said the man, walking toward them. He finished the apple in two large bites, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tossing the core off behind him. His cloth was fine—relatively clean and whole—he wore a neatly trimmed beard, and his dark hair was tied back in a neat ponytail with a bit of leather thong. "Just set them on the ground and we'll be happy to relieve you of all of your heavy burdens, those fine rifles included."
Acel looked back at them with the beginnings of a confused smile on his face. Rolan—who didn't have a rifle but had pulled his long knife—and Chy stepped out to flank Acel, keeping Ever at the rear. She pulled her own knife hastily.
"We mean you no harm, sir," said Acel cautiously, holding his rifle pointed low but at the ready. "We'll just be going on our way. I suggest you go on yours."
"You Saints," the man said, grinning widely. "Always so polite."
Ever heard booted footsteps behind her and whirled just in time to see the face of the man who grabbed her. He caught her wrist easily when she slashed at him and took the big knife out of her hand as easily as Ever would retrieve a stick from the hands of a misbehaving child. He bent her arm behind her back until she gasped in pain, turning her around in the process.
Other men were appearing around them, rushing in from the trees and rising up from behind rusted cars. Rolan cut the arm of his attacker before being knocked to the ground and disarmed almost as easily as Ever had been. Acel was already on the ground. The man who had been eating the apple stood over him, examining his rifle. Bingham got off a single, wild shot that caromed off the pavement uselessly before being relieved of his own weapon. As she watched, a large man hit him savagely across the face with the rifle's butt, knocking him to ground. He collapsed bonelessly and Ever cried out.
"Don't fret, sweet thing," said the man with the ponytail. "You wouldn't begrudge us a bit of salvage, after that fine meal you had on the beach. It's not often we get to outfit ourselves with the goods of the Chosen People and enjoy the company of one of their pretty young maidens." He grinned lasciviously and stroked Ever's cheek with one scarred knuckle; she heard the brute holding her chuckle evilly.
"Don't touch her," said Acel hoarsely. Ever counted eight men surrounding them, one of whom was holding Acel up. Ever didn't think he'd been hit as hard as Chy; the bright red splotches on his cheeks were marks of shame, not injury.
"Oh ho," said Ponytail, turning in Acel's direction. "Is she spoken for then, Blondie? Perhaps you and I can have a round in the circle to see who gets her then, eh? First round's to me." Acel looked at him fiercely, struggling against the man who held him until he got a punch to his kidney for his trouble.
"Which clan are you from then?" asked Acel. "Brown River? Cabot's Mill? You're a long way from home."
Ever's heart sank, hearing Acel speak. Those were Marmack clans, albeit not ones she was very familiar with. She had held out hope that they might have run into a group of simple bandits, men who might be reasoned with... But Acel was a Scout, and Bountiful's Scouts were trained to know Marmacks on sight, even to differentiate between clans. Looking for closely, Ever saw that all of them were wearing some item of red clothing, be it a dingy neckerchief or an armband. It wasn't as obvious a marker as she'd imagined apostate sashes to be, but Acel seemed convinced. How he could tell their clans from any of it, she had no idea.
"Clever little Blessed," said the man. "But not clever enough. We're from all clans, and none. We serve the Prophet. The Prophet unites all." Acel looked disgusted, but said nothing.
"Just get it over with," he said. "Kill us and be done with it."
"What in God's name are you saying, Acel?" yelled Rolan. The Marmack guarding him, a short man who nonetheless looked dangerous enough, hit him hard in the mouth.
The man with the ponytail was smiling.
"No lad, no such luck," he said. "Standing orders, you see. As much as I might like to have the boys here gut you and leave you all for the wolves—well, three of you, at least"—here he winked at Ever—"standing orders say otherwise. All Holy Folk to be brought to Salem for inspection."
"But where are my manners?" heexclaimed, clapping his hands. "Ipromised you we'd lighten your burdens. Kindly relieve these gentlefolk of anything worth taking, boys. Oh, and Piker? No marks on the pretty one this time, eh?"
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