Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
These people aren’t monsters. Though we’ve only been inside the village for a matter of minutes, I’ve seen enough to erase any lingering doubts.
On the surface, Sols have features that are distinctly inhuman—like incandescent eyes and gold-streaked veins shimmering beneath their skin—but anyone who bothers to study their interactions for more than a few minutes would realize how undeniably normal they are.
Men and women amble around while chatting animatedly with their neighbors about the cloud of false night bleeding into the southern outskirts of the village, drawing a harsh line between shade and sun across the outermost domed structures.
Conversations soften into whispers as Kalden passes with Joss in his arms, and Yvonne in Niles’s, but crescendo closer to a regular volume by the time I meander past at the tail end of our group. The onlookers exchange theories about what happened to Joss.
“Does it have something to do with the black cloud?”
“Where did it come from?”
“How long do you think it’ll last?”
“I wonder what the High Sol will do about it.”
“Should we be worried?”
The children don’t seem to share these concerns as they chase one another through the shallow waters below the raised pathways, daring each other to test who’s brave enough to get the closest to the darkened edge.
A little girl with dark blonde curls and full cheeks catches my eye as she leaps across the top of the domes. I jolt forward, heart racing as I envision her falling through the ten-foot gap between the round structures. But my fear is proven misplaced as she sticks the landing with a giggle.
My throat tightens as she jumps to the next dome, and the next. Moving so freely.
No one tells her to get down. Nobody warns her that she could hurt herself or cause a scene.
In fact, the few people who glance her way give the child a little cheer of encouragement.
It’s a stark contrast to the expectations of modesty, humility, and restraint placed on the young daughters of Caligo.
As if she senses my attention, the child turns her head in my direction with a grin that stretches almost the entire width of her face. I smile back and offer a quick clap before catching back up to Gem at the tail end of our group.
We follow the winding path towards the heart of the village, passing by a myriad of vibrant glass structures, even more dazzling up close than they were from afar.
We come to a halt outside one of the more generously sized domes, its white glass walls more opaque than some of the others.
Hovering within the open doorway is a vertical layer of suspended lucent liquid.
Kalden adjusts his grip on Joss, then disappears beneath the doorway.
Answering my unspoken question, Niles sticks his leg through. “It cleanses and sterilizes those who enter. Fairly standard protocol in most mending facilities.”
When he pulls back his leg, the gore that was caked around the hem of his pants is gone.
My lips form an O as I stare, dumbfounded by the “standard protocol.” How is there anything standard about a gravity-defying vertical bath?
Niles waves for us to file in, carefully maneuvering Yvonne so her feet don’t hit the doorframe.
No one seems particularly eager to follow, so I step up to the threshold, closing my eyes and holding my breath before passing beneath the layer of liquid.
Warmth seeps over my skin and leathers, yet I find neither my hair nor attire is the slightest bit damp as I cross inside.
The only evidence it affected me at all is the absence of grime where blood once coated the neckline of my bodysuit.
A petite older woman with bright white hair ushers both Kalden and Niles behind a partition of curtains, permitting Demi to follow as she reaches for Yvonne’s lifeless hand.
A younger male rushes around a glass tabletop to greet the rest of us, blocking the path forward. His eyes widen when he takes in the head-to-toe gear of the others, yet his smile doesn’t falter. “How can I assist you?”
Nobody offers an immediate answer, so I step forward to say, “Uh, we’re here with them.”
“Are you friends of the High—?”
“Kalden,” Niles says as he circles back to the entryway. “They’re friends of Kalden. Except for this one. He’s responsible for Joss’s injuries, so I’ll be taking him to the holds once we’re done here.”
Gabe flinches as Niles grips his shoulder. “The holds?”
“Temporary confinement.”
Aruna pushes me aside to stand in front of Gabe. “Like a prison cell? You can’t take him away from us! The chancellor’s going to see this and—”
“There’s no signal,” the mender interrupts to say.
Aruna angles herself towards the younger man. “What?”
His cheeks turn rosy. “You’re from the Shade cities, yes?”
My brows arch at the new term—Shades. Is that what they call those of us who reside within Caligo and its two brother cities?
“This is the latest batch of sacrifices the Shades sent out on the Hunt,” Niles explains, confirming my suspicion.
“I see,” the young mender says, his vivid green-and-gold irises flicking to Aruna’s helmet.
“Like those who’ve come before you, I presume you’ve all been equipped with a recording device.
These devices typically emit a specific frequency, yet I sense no signal, so it’s doubtful the recordings are being delivered back to your leader. ”
Aruna’s gloved hand flies to the tinted lens above her brow bone before she whirls back to Niles. “One of you did this, didn’t you?”
The Sol holds up his palms. “Don’t look at me.”
“If you hurt his son, Chancellor Bren will find out,” Aruna warns.
“Even if that’s true, which I doubt, thanks to these things not working .
. .” Niles flicks her helmet. “. . . the chancellor has no jurisdiction here, thank the sun. I also have no intention of hurting his son. All I’d like to do is ask him a few questions about why he attempted to kill us while unprovoked, and what his intentions are with this new weapon. ”
Aruna crosses her arms, doubling down. “I won’t let you take him.”
Niles steps in closer, and even though the nightstone’s effects have depleted the enhanced glow from his veins, there’s an intensity in his cerulean gaze that tells me he doesn’t need the boost of magic to best an opponent. “I don’t remember asking for your permission.”
“It’s okay, Aruna,” Gabe assures her. “I can handle his questions.”
Aruna continues holding her ground in front of Niles for several stretched seconds before cowering away from the Sol.
The mender’s polite smile returns. “Are any of you injured?”
No one answers.
Accepting that Sols aren’t the evil creatures we feared them to be is one thing, but I can understand why the others would be hesitant to interact with them, regardless of how kind they seem.
Especially since, unlike me, they haven’t spent the past few days warming up to the idea that there’s a positive side to the sun’s power.
“What about you?” the mender asks, gesturing to the tears in my bodysuit.
“Oh, um, Kalden took care of those already.”
His attention shifts to the tiny cuts on my upper arm. “But not these?”
Niles answers for me. “She cut herself with a nightstone blade.”
Blood rushing to my cheeks, I squirm as the mender’s brows furrow. “Not on purpose. I was trying to remove my sleeves so we could use them to staunch Joss’s bleeding. I’ll be fine.”
He nods. “You will be, but I’d recommend at least two hours of sun exposure to counteract the lasting effects of the nightstone. Otherwise, the lacerations may take longer to heal and could become prone to infection.”
“Niles almost got hit with a nightstone missile,” I say, eager to get the attention off me.
“Almost,” Niles emphasizes, scooting aside a stack of papers to lean against the glass tabletop.
I cross my arms. “You lost consciousness.”
The mender inspects the dilation of his pupils. “Could be a concussion, or vasovagal syncope. Do you have any aches in your head or neck?”
“None of concern.”
“Any nausea? Dizziness?”
“No.” Niles meets my gaze, then rolls his eyes, as if I’m to blame for the mender’s fussing.
“Can you recall the events prior to the impact?”
“I was standing next to Joss, lending her some of my power as she searched through the Pyre’s memories, when I saw a dark object hurtling towards us.
I tried to pull her away, but wasn’t fast enough.
” His brow furrows. “Next thing I remember is waking up to a pitch-black sky and Kalden channeling the last of his waning energy into me.”
“You said it was a nightstone missile,” the mender says, glancing back at me. “Can you explain to me what that is?”
The mender’s calm smile finally falters as I give a brief summary of Gabe’s invention of airborne carbon nightoxide.
“And each of you breathed this in?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” he says with a frown. “There’s no way of knowing how long the effects of inhaled nightstone particles will last. It might take a few hours or days of consistent sun exposure to cleanse the toxins from your body.”
Niles rises from the table. “We won’t be able to channel until it’s fully gone?”
The mender tilts his head. “Not necessarily. As it fades, your harnessing abilities should gradually be restored, but you may find your bandwidth significantly more limited. I recommend avoiding prolonged channeling until your system is completely free from the nightstone. Anything more than quick bursts of power may increase your chances of burnout.”
Jaw clenching, Niles dips his chin. “Let’s hope that won’t be necessary.”
“We’ll arrange her burial a half hour after first light tomorrow,” the female mender says to Demi while Kalden ushers us back outside. “Until then, I want you to get some food and rest, okay, dear?”
Demi’s covered head barely moves as it hangs downcast.
Niles breaks off from our group to take Gabe to the holds, while Kalden leads the rest of us on a brief tour of Lucis.
My fingers twitch with the urge to pull Demi into an embrace, but Twilynn beats me to it, which is likely for the better.
If I were her, the last thing I’d want is to be in close contact with a Sol, or someone who was a Sol.
Though the light left my veins more than an hour ago and I am not the creature that took her friend’s life, it isn’t an easy thing, undoing that groomed hatred.
It’s a truth made evident each time Aruna’s hand flinches on the hilt of her dagger when a passerby gets too close.
“What do you think’s in there?” Gem asks, and I blink, shifting my gaze to the large center dome she points towards—the one I’d spotted when the village first came into view.
I shrug. “Maybe it’s the living quarters for whoever’s in charge around here?”
Gem leans in, voice dropping. “Do you think they have a chancellor, too?”
“We don’t, and it isn’t,” Kalden says over his shoulder as he steers us through a particularly crowded pathway lined with men and women holding pliable poles over the bridge’s ledge.
“That building there is our communal greenhouse. We have several larger crops a few miles northwest, but most of our produce is grown right there in the main dome, where residents can pick vegetables, herbs, and fruits at their discretion.”
“How do the rations work?” I ask, glancing at the back of my left hand out of habit, though my glove conceals the marred brand from view.
A middle-aged woman to my left sets her curved pole down against the railing before turning towards me. “Rations? Honey, we don’t do that tiered nonsense here. There’s more than enough to go around, as long as folks don’t get greedy.”
Brows pulling together, I stop walking. “You know about the tiers?”
She scoffs. “All too well. I was in your shoes once, you know. Got selected about twenty-three years ago to be a Huntress. Would’ve ended up dead like the rest of ’em if it weren’t for Irene’s birds.”
My pulse picks up as I recall Demi’s tale of the golden birds guiding her aunt to safety. “Who’s Irene?”
The woman’s pole begins to bend, and she turns back around to tug it towards her, twisting the gear near its base until a writhing speckled fish emerges from the water’s rippling surface.
Her brown-and-gold eyes crinkle at the sides, and I presume she’s forgotten all thoughts of our conversation until she calls over to me once more. “Ask him.”