Face Of The Void

Chapter 2

2

The blue sky of a clear, winter morning allowed sunlight to filter through the skeletal trees to a muddy slope. Hebar’s Hill, it was called, a lump in the earth that stood twenty feet high at best. The surrounding area was dominated by a stagnant swamp, making it less than ideal for a campsite, but it did provide some privacy.

Miri slipped between two trees with a hand resting on her holstered pistol, pursing her lips as she inspected her students. “Careful now,” she said. “All of you.”

Zoe was a tiny slip of a girl in workman’s clothes that seemed to hang off her body. She couldn’t be more than sixteen years old, and the freckles on her pale cheeks made her look even younger. Freckles and blue eyes with flecks of green, hair as red as a flameu. At first glance, you might think she had grown up in Tommy’s village.

The girl held a revolver in trembling hands. The weapon had not been loaded – you didn’t give live ammunition to someone who couldn’t even touch a gun without quaking in terror – but you might have thought the weapon was a hissing snake by the way Zoe held it.

Stepping up to the girl, Miri gently pushed her hands up to aim a little higher. “Like that,” she said. “Feet apart, knees bent. Squeeze the trigger, don’t pull.”

Sweat glistened on Zoe’s face.

“Go ahead.”

The gun clicked when Zoe did as she was told. It was hard to say without an actual shot, but Miri was fairly certain the girl would have hit the target she had painted on a tree. “Keep practicing.”

She moved on to Ken, a short and wiry man with a fringe of dark stubble around the back of his otherwise bald head. This one had the perfect shooting stance. You could see it in his eye: that intense focus as he took aim.

Crossing her arms, Miri looked him up and down. “Very good,” she said, nodding. “Take the shot.”

CRACK!

A hole appeared in the tree trunk, on the red spot that Miri had painted. He almost hit the bullseye. Zoe flinched at the sound, nearly dropping her gun. They would have to find her a different weapon. Guns were not safe in that girl’s hands. In truth, they had no intention of letting her get anywhere near a battlefield. There were all sorts of jobs that needed doing, and Zoe had a deft hand when it came to needle and thread. But Tommy insisted that everyone in the camp should receive basic weapons training, and he had the right of it.

Next in line was Shawn, a gangly young man with a dark complexion and a strong chin that could have been chiseled on a statue. He had a haunted look. As a slave, he had been forced to work in a munitions factory until she and Tommy had liberated him two weeks ago. She suspected that he had been mistreated.

They had not yet had the opportunity to remove the brand from his cheek. It could be done with the crystals they had taken from the Temple of Vengeance, but Miri remained adamant that those should be reserved for treating grievous injuries. The Ether’s healing power would eventually remove the mark if Shawn learned to commune with it. A handful of those they had liberated had found a measure of success on that score, but most were still struggling. Miri could sympathize. She had given up trying to find the Ether years ago.

“What’s wrong, Shawn?” she asked.

The young man gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” he muttered. “Guns make a lot of noise. I’d rather not draw the attention of any merchant who happens to be riding past.”

“We’re a day’s ride from Hedrovan,” Miri countered. “There aren’t many people out this way.”

“Still…”

“And,” she pressed. “We have Sonic-Sinks around the camp. No one will hear your gunshot, I promise you.”

He turned his head to glare at her. She could see it in his eyes. Now that he was free, he just wanted to slip away and hide rather than lead a revolution to liberate those who were still in chains. Honestly, she couldn’t blame him. But they needed all the people they could get. “Those things you mentioned,” Shawn began. “The…The…”

“Sonic-Sinks.”

He stiffened as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth. “Right. Won’t they prevent us from hearing an enemy’s approach?”

“That’s why we also have people on lookout,” Miri replied. “Shawn, I know you’re scared, but truly, this is the safest place that you could be.”

“If you say so.”

Miri clapped him on the shoulder, producing a grunt from the young man. “Keep practicing,” she urged him. “If nothing else, you’ll be able to defend yourself should the need arise.”

Target practice went on for another twenty minutes before she dismissed her students and allowed three others to take their place. This was her life now. When she wasn’t teaching someone how to handle firearms, she was going through hand-to-hand drills or reviewing basic tactics. The latter was somewhat difficult for her. Miri could fight on her own, but the finer points of strategy had never been her forte. She was a spy, not a general.

Their camp was a series of colourful tents in the middle of the hilltop. With the trees surrounding them, it was unlikely that they would draw any unwanted attention from anyone who happened to be passing by. Counting those who had fled the Golden Sunset along with those they had liberated from nearby factories and farms, they had over four dozen ex-slaves living here. Their food supplies were stretched thin. Tommy had raided the inn’s larders, and they had done the same for several other high-end establishments in Hedrovan, but the fact remained that they couldn’t remain here. She had visited the city on her own several times, and everyone was talking about the band of outlaws preying on innocent, hard-working merchants.

It was time to move on.

Miri saw people moving through the streets between the tents. A young man with red hair and a pointed chin carried a basket of laundry to the nearby stream that fed into the swamplands. Another fellow carried a buck he had shot toward the cookfires. So, they would eat well tonight.

She opened a tent flap and peeked inside to find Tommy and a group of his students sitting cross legged in a circle. They all had their eyes closed, deep in concentration. Miri felt a burst of pride when she looked upon her love.

Tommy now had a thick, golden beard that made him look at least five years older. His face had filled out a little, no longer quite so gaunt-cheeked. “Let your mind drift,” he said. “Don’t try to find the Ether. Let it come to you.”

Letting the tent flap fall, Miri strode away, shaking her head. “They’re never gonna pick it up,” she muttered. “Not in time to be of any use, anyway. Most of them will go years without finding the Ether.”

A large, maroon tent stood at the end of the street, nestled under the bare branches of a towering oak. She could already hear Dalen puttering about inside. What exactly had her other love discovered?

When she went in, she found the young man standing with his back turned and talking to himself. His books were strewn over the floor so that there wasn’t a clear inch of space to set foot on. Even her bedroll was covered with ancient volumes of Aladri and Eradian writing. He had “borrowed” some of those from Hedrovan’s grand library.

“Still looking for a legal remedy to our problems?” she asked.

Dalen tensed up, only just realizing that she was present. He turned and greeted her with a sheepish grin. “I may have something. Seventy years ago, a farmer near Fengen’s Wake was ordered to free his slaves after it was discovered that he was essentially starving them.”

“Is that so?”

Dalen tripped over one of his books as he strode toward her, nearly falling flat on his face. Righting himself with a grunt, he waggled his finger like a professor giving a lecture. “That set a precedent that a master is responsible for the well-being of his slaves.”

Cocking her head to one side, Miri raised an eyebrow. “And you believe that you can use this…precedent to what? Compel the Eradian troops to stop hunting us?”

“A cursory inspection of the living conditions at The Golden Sunset ought to reveal something that we can use. Some failure by Sirilla Althari to properly care for her slaves. At which point-”

“And who will conduct this inspection?”

Dalen blinked.

“Well?”

He stood before her with his eyes downcast, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I suppose,” he mumbled. “A magistrate.”

Miri sniffed derisively. “Yes, I suppose that could work,” she said. “We’ll just go to the magistrate’s office and politely ask him to-”

Dalen raised his hands to forestall her, backing off and stumbling over another book. “All right,” he said. “The point is made. It’s just…Tommy has the Ether; you are proficient in just about every weapon known to man, and I have books. Books that seem to be of little use out here.”

“Are you feeling useless, love?”

“A little.”

Miri stepped forward, grabbing his shirt and pulling him close. She kissed him softly on the lips. “Don’t.”

His face was beet-red, his eyes fluttering as he tried to catch his breath. “Right,” he said, nodding. “I’ll just…stop feeling useless.”

“Excellent.”

The tent flaps parted, allowing a copper-skinned girl with long, dark hair to poke her head inside. Mikala was barely fifteen years old, scrawny with a dimpled chin. The Seaside Jewel had been using her to wait tables when Miri and Tommy liberated her. Given that place’s reputation, they would probably have used her for other less reputable services when she got a little older. “They’re calling a meeting,” the girl said.

Miri stepped out into the open, holding her coat closed with one hand as the chilly wind assaulted her. “A meeting,” she muttered. Already, she could see that many of the camp’s other residents were moving toward the tent where Tommy taught his classes.

Dalen followed her out, hopping to keep up. He looked this way and that with obvious anxiety on his face. “Oh, this isn’t good,” he muttered. “Look at them. They’re quite unhappy.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The sour expressions she saw on pretty much every former slave she passed told her that this would not be a pleasant meeting. People only looked like that when they had a grievance to share, and for so many to look so dissatisfied…Yes, they had been talking behind her back. And behind Tommy’s as well, she suspected.

The large, blue tent was packed with bodies when she entered. Everyone stood in three tight circles, pressed so close together there was barely space enough to breathe let alone move. No one wanted to be out in the cold. She had to see what was going on. Thankfully, people shuffled aside to let her enter the innermost ring.

Brian Hanson, a tall man with a barrel chest, pale skin and a dark beard stood with his arms folded. The brand on his cheek was still plainly visible. He had not yet found the Ether.

Tommy stepped forward with his hands clasped behind his back, greeting the other man without a hint of anxiety. “What’s the trouble, Brian?”

“We want to leave,” Brian replied.

Closing his eyes, Tommy let out a breath. “You’re free to go at any time,” he said. “You know that. But there’s very little food to be had out there, and you’ll probably run afoul of some Eradian patrol.”

Brian sneered, baring his teeth. “We know the risks,” he spat. “And we want out. We want nothing to do with you.”

“You’re safer here.”

In two quick strides, Brian was toe to toe with Tommy. He reached out to seize Tommy’s shirt, but Miri caught his wrist and twisted it just enough to make him hiss. The man gave her a threatening glare.

She smiled.

Cowed by that, Brian pulled his hand free and took control of himself. Good. That one had been trouble since the day he arrived. Best that he remember who he was dealing with.

“Your revolution is no concern of ours,” Brian said calmly. “We’re free now. And we’re not going to risk being recaptured. Some of us want to get as far away from here as possible.”

“Well, I regret your choice,” Tommy said. “But I won’t stop you.”

Miri saw a dangerous glint in Brian’s eye. The man was about to push his luck; she knew it. “We want you to heal our brands,” he said. “So that we can leave this camp and pursue work as free men.”

Tommy looked up into the other man’s eyes. To his credit, he never flinched. “The best way to remove those marks would be to commune with the Ether,” he said. “If you stay, I can teach you.”

“No!” Brian growled. “No more lessons! No more promises of magic that we will never possess. You think we don’t see through your charade? You have the crystals. We have seen what they can do. You can use them to heal all of us now.”

“The crystals are for treating severe injuries,” Miri insisted.

Brian turned his gaze upon her, every last scrap of fear gone. “And who decides that?” he barked. “You? If we stay here, we’re as good as dead.”

“No one is stopping you.”

Pointing at the mark on his cheek. Brian snarled at her. “And if I leave with this, I’m still as good as dead! Did you free us just to turn us into soldiers in your little war?”

“Brian,” Tommy said. “Those of us who put ourselves at risk to free the slaves of Hedrovan will eventually be injured. We need those crystals to keep ourselves alive. You are free now. Don’t you want the same for your brothers and sisters?”

“Piss on that,” Brian spat. “I’m free, and I won’t go back. Those who are still in the city can fend for themselves.”

“Charming,” Miri murmured.

Brian ignored her, stepping forward to tower over Tommy. “The real question is,” he began, “will you live by your word? Are we free? Or will you use these brands to coerce us into obeying you like the masters did.”

Heaving out a sigh, Tommy looked down at the floor. He licked his lips, trying to decide what to do. “I’ll give you five crystals,” he answered in a rasping voice. “Five to share with anyone else who wants to leave. That should be enough. You’ll only need a small fragment to remove a brand.”

“That will do.”

“I don’t think you should have given up those crystals,” Dalen said. He knelt behind Tommy, who sat on the floor of their tent, gently massaging the other man’s shoulders. Miri watched them silently. Her instincts said that Dalen was correct, but if her boys were about to have a spat, she wanted no part of it.

Tommy winced, groaning in frustration. “I’m not going to force people to stay here,” he replied. “They’re free now. They’re not obligated to fight for our cause.”

“And we’re not obligated to give aid to those who don’t fight for our cause,” Dalen countered. “We’re gonna lose people this way. And I don’t just mean those who intend to walk away. Once the fighting starts, those of us who stay will die without those crystals.”

Tommy shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the other man’s chest. “We still have ten of the shards the Al a Nari gave us,” he said. “That’ll be enough for now. Once we have liberated all the slaves in Hedrovan, it will be time to move on.”

Miri had serious misgivings about that plan. They had survived thus far because Field Binding and Ka’adri training gave them a clear advantage. But the Eradians would not sit still while Tommy “stole their property.” They would step up security. Guns were dangerous, even to Field Binders. And she suspected they would eventually come up with something to counter that advantage as well.

The crystals were such odd things. A clean cut with a knife only segmented them into smaller fragments, but crushing them released the power within. Why that should matter was beyond her. When you broke a crystal, it was broken! Why should the method make a difference? It was almost as if these things were alive. As if they had intent.

“We’ll just have to see what happens tomorrow,” Tommy muttered.

They did indeed find out the next morning. Miri walked through a camp of empty tents, silent and desolate under the gray, winter sky. Not a soul in sight, not a sound to be heard. She wandered for nearly five minutes before she found Zoe standing outside of her tent.

The girl was hugging herself, rubbing her arms and shivering. She looked up when she heard Miri drawing near. “They’re gone,” she said. “Most of them anyway. Run off with Brian. A few of us stayed behind.”

Head hanging, Miri touched fingertips to her forehead. A groan escaped her. “How many?”

“There are ten,” Zoe answered. “Ken is still here, and my mother. And Jeff as well. Kaylee and Victor and Michael. Old Mrs. Potts and her two boys. And Sarah. I wasn’t able to find anyone else. We…We still believe in the cause, ma’am.”

Perhaps they did, but thirteen people weren’t much use against an army even if one of them could Field Bind. It seemed the revolution was over.