The Earth Dwellers
And they do, crowding around, more and more Icers and Heaters and Stormers and Soakers and Dwellers surrounding the portal, gazing at our old friends. Our people united.
They’re okay and so are we and nothing will ever change that again.
New Wildetown
Sadie
This is a strange, strange land.
For one, it’s boiling hot all the time, even when the sun goes down. Secondly, I haven’t felt a drop of rain since setting foot in fire country. Storm country feels like it’s millions of miles away.
Although my heart yearns for the cool ocean breeze, familiar storms, and lush, flat plains of storm country, I’m content to stay here for a few more days. After all, I don’t know when we’ll get the chance to see our unexpected friends again, and I’ve grown closer to Siena and Skye than I ever thought possible. Remy seems to be getting on well with Circ and Hawk and a few of the other guys, too.
But I know that whenever we do leave, it won’t be forever. Already Gard’s been discussing a potential trade agreement with the Tri-Tribe leaders, one that will ensure our friendship and joint preservation for years into the future. Remy and I have already agreed to visit at least once a year, preferably when it’s slightly less hot.
Remy puts his arm around me and I’m tempted to lean into it, but I’m not that girl. Not yet anyway. Maybe someday I will be, when I’m old and decrepit and walking with a stick to support me.
Instead, I squirm away and wrap my arm around him, tucking him against me. It makes me even warmer, but it’s worth it to see the amused look on his face. “One day, when you least expect it, you’ll let me protect you,” he says.
“I know,” I say. “But for that to happen I’ll have to be lying unconscious with both legs broken.”
He laughs and just lets me hold him, and I’m glad he’s not too proud to let me do that.
While the embers glow and my head touches Remy’s and I look at the moon-brightened night sky, I see my mother and father and brother, Paw, smiling from somewhere else, somewhere that’s not as far away as I always thought.
And I smile right back.
New Wildetown
Huck
Being here seems impossible.
Not two days ago I was arguing with the other captains, who were about as fun to talk to as a pile of rocks. I never thought I’d convince any of them to come, much less a full quarter of the sailors. And yet now I’m here, in fire country, three of the fleet’s ships anchored to the south, just off the red cliffs. The battle was brutal and devastating—so many dead—but necessary work to defeat a tyrant, just like my father.
And the most amazing thing: I’m holding the hand of the girl who owns half of my heart. The other half belongs to the Deep Blue.
To this point in my fourteen yars of life, I’ve never been able to see my future a day ahead; but now, with the warmth of Jade’s hand tucked into my palm, I can see yars and yars, a whole lifetime worth living. With her.
My only concerns are the muscles and fists and swords and bows and arrows of Skye and Siena, both of whom seem intent on staring at me with dark eyes for the entire night. But when Jade looks up at me with her intense brown eyes, the ones that, not long ago, were so mysterious to me, everything else fades away and I’m alone with her.
And she moves closer and her lips are so small and perfect and wearing just the tiniest grin, which makes me smile and almost laugh, even as the fishlets are swimming and squirming through my stomach.
We kiss and everything’s right.
I know people are watching but I couldn’t care less.
I might kiss her for the rest of time.
New Wildetown
Siena
Jade and Huck are still kissing each other, and now even I have half a mind to knock him back to yesterday. She’s still just a child, after all. But I know that’s not entirely true anymore, ’cause she’s grown up just like the rest of us have, and her guy’s fought in two battles now and that should count for something in terms of his manhood. Plus, he managed to convince a quarter of his fleet to sail ’round the southern cliffs of fire country in order to help us. Seems only a man could do something like that.
So I just look away and lean into a kiss of my own from Circ.
“What was that for?” Circ asks. It doesn’t sound like a complaint, just a curiosity.
“’Cause I can,” I say.
He shrugs and gives me another peck.
Next to Circ, Lara and Hawk are arguing ’bout something, but they’re holding hands, too, which I just can’t get over. Who woulda thought? And yet, they seem like a perfect pair. Wooloo how the world spins and flips and changes faster’n Perry shouts insults at clutzy skinny girls in the desert.
The moon goddess is shining tonight, and she’s so bright I know that Wilde’s in there with her, watching over us, even now. We held a ceremony for her and Feve and all the rest who didn’t make it. I gave Feve’s wife and his kids a big hug each, and we cried t’gether. I’ll never fully get over my friends’ deaths, but Skye and me cut our fingers open and made a blood oath to be happy in honor of ’em. Then we smiled through the hurt and the pain and the tears staining our cheeks.
I talked to Veeva afterward, when I could tear her away from Grunt, who’s hobbling ’round, milking his injury for all it’s worth. But I won’t dare call him a shanker—never again. Veeva thanked me for saving his life, but I told her he saved mine. You couldn’t imagine the pride in her eyes. “That’s my stallion,” she said. They’ve been in their tent ever since, and I’m doing my best not to guess what they’re doing in there.
Tristan, who followed through on his promise to return with an army, helped us get the people with small injuries back to New Wildetown. We rode in the Glassies’ own fire chariots to do it, how ’bout that? The seriously injured are being fixed up inside the Glass City, something ’bout their Healers being better’n ours. We pray for ’em every night to the goddesses in the sky.
The Stormers and Soakers are staying with us for a while, in our camp. They sent Riders back to water and storm country to tell ’em what happened and ease their fears. Across the fire from me, Sadie’s got her arm ’round Remy, looking up at the star-speckled sky. Even now that the war’s over, she’s always got to be in control. It only makes me like her that much more.
I don’t know what’s gonna happen with Adele and Tristan and all t’others who live underground, but I’m not worried ’bout it anymore, ’cause they seem to have things pretty much under control. Finally—finally!—I just wanna live my life, be with Circ and my family and friends. Honor those who died for us…by being happy.
And if anyone like my father or King Goff or Admiral Jones or President Lecter ever try to put on their big boy britches and knock us ’round again, well, I s’pose I’ll fight for our freedom one more time. Or as many times as it takes. ’Cause I ain’t afraid of nothing anymore.
Circ sighs as I run a hand through his thick hair. I knock a knee against his and he pushes back. Just like old times, so long ago and yet only a moment out of reach.
“I love you, Siena,” he says.
And for the first time ever, I know why he does. ’Cause I say the wrong things sometimes and trip over my feet and shoot pointers like an expert and kiss mighty searin’ good and am braver’n most. ’Cause I’m me, an imperfect part of a perfect pair.
Circ and me.
Me and Circ.
Surrounded by our families, by the ones we love.
Unity (the city previously known as the New City or Glass City)
Tristan
I’ve got the weight of a crumbling world on my shoulders, and yet I feel lighter than the birds soaring over the glass dome, which is once more sealed tight at the gate and providing filtered air to all who reside within its bounds.
I’ve got a million things on my mind, and more than a million people, but I’m spending today with my family and friends. A day off. Adele will join me later; she said she had somet
hing important to do.
My mother is sitting beside me, gazing at the birds high above, just like me.
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to live out there?” she asks the birds.
I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe this great earth will heal itself eventually, but at least for now we can live above.”
“I don’t think I want to,” she says quickly.
I look at her but she holds her gaze far past the Dome, on the sky and the birds wheeling overhead, playing on the wind.
Something happened to her. Something bad. She’s not the same person that she was. Slow to laughter, heaviness in her eyes. Every time I ask Adele about what happened, she tells me everything except about my mother. If I want to know those parts I have to ask her, she says. I haven’t, and Mother hasn’t exactly volunteered the information. Maybe someday…
“Where will you go?” I ask.
Finally, her expression lightens. “The Realm,” she says.
I smile at the name, one of the many good decisions the Unity Council has made since its creation. No more “Tri.” No more “Sun, Moon, and Stars.” Everyone equal, living where they choose to live. In all honesty, the cramped caverns of the old Star Realm will likely be abandoned, possibly the old Moon Realm caverns too.
It all depends on how many citizens decide to come above, which was another awesome decision made by Unity, a unanimous vote. All humankind gets to choose where they live, whether underground or above, in the air-filtered glass dome, or outside.
Sun dweller scientists are already analyzing the air, trying to figure out what’s wrong with it, something that should have been done by Lecter. So far they’ve found at least six toxins that are deadly to humans over time. We’ll monitor them over the course of years to determine whether the levels are on the decline or consistent. Whether we’ll ever be able to live long lives outside of our domed city. Maybe someday our children, or our children’s children, can live like people used to, free to roam and inhabit the earth.
We’ve also abolished all the major systems put in place by Lecter in the New City, which has been renamed Unity. The first major human city on the face of the earth since Year Zero. Those living in Unity will be able to choose their jobs, what to eat, and where to live.
Because there’s not enough space in the city for the millions from the Realm that are expected to choose to come above, plans are being made to create additional cities, but only if we get the approval of the tribes that live on the lands we want to build them on. It’s not our world to take; it’s our world to share. And we’re the party crashers, so we have to play by their rules.
However, I fully expect Gard and Huck to approve our plans for a city on the eastern coastline of storm country, and the Tri-Tribes’ leaders to allow us to build at least one more city in fire country. As for ice country, we’ll be building a large memorial for the lost Icer tribe. It will stand for centuries to come as a reminder of the stupidity and tragedy of greed and intolerance. We can’t change the past, but we can remember it so we don’t screw up the future.
There are also early discussions about the potential to help the tribes build mini-domes over their villages, but only if they want them. Living in filtered air even part of the time could extend their lifespans by decades. But that’s a choice they’ll have to make. Of course, they’ll also have the opportunity to move into our cities if they want. Either way, we’ll respect their decisions and ensure they’re involved in ours wherever they affect them.
It’s all part of the New Constitution, which dissolved any forms of dictatorship and sustained the new council. The people will finally get their voice back.
“I’ll miss you,” I say, “but I’ll visit all the time.” I’m staying above, with Adele, a decision that was all too easy to make. We’ve both gotten too used to the real sun, and I have a feeling we’ll become good friends with our new acquaintances to the west.
She smiles, and though it’s not the full, eye-reaching smile I remember from the woman who used to read to Roc and I against the big tree in the palace gardens, it’s a start. “You’d better,” she says, putting an arm around me.
For just a minute, I lean in, a child in a man’s body, allowing myself to be held by the woman whose bold and creative decision so long ago played a major role in shaping the world for the better. She had a vision, and I was but a tool in her loving hands.
My mother, my hero. From the look in Adele’s eyes when she refuses to talk about what my mother did, I can tell she feels the same way.
“Hard at work, as usual,” a voice says from behind. “Or is it hardly working?”
“It’s my first break in days,” I say without turning around.
Roc comes around the front of the bench we’re sitting on. He’s holding Tawni’s hand and looking rather smug. “A few more days like this and my rise to the top of the Unity Council will be like taking candy from a spoiled prince,” he says.
My mother stands and hugs Roc, who kisses her on the cheek, sending warmth through my veins. She might’ve lost a son, but she got two back, even if one isn’t connected to her by blood.
“You can have this spoiled prince’s job anytime you want it,” I say. Joking aside, I was equal parts surprised and happy when Roc ran for a spot on the hundred-member Council. I was even happier when he got it. I might be the moderator for the meetings, but his vote counts every bit as much as mine. Although I’ve always considered him my equal—even when he was supposed to be my servant—it’s gratifying for the rest of the world to feel the same way.
As my mother hugs Tawni—who she’s taken a particular liking to—Roc says, “I don’t want your charity, Tristy.” He sits next to me on the bench and rests a hand on my shoulder. “Nor do I really want your job. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked me to.”
Damn Roc, always jumping from joking to saying stuff like that. I turn my head and try to discretely rub the mist out of my eyes, but he’s already laughing. “Cry baby,” he says.
I may be the moderator of the Unity Council and a former president of an entire underground nation, but I can still shed a happy tear or two for those I love.
This world is far from perfect, and it always will be, but with people like Roc and Tawni and Adele and my mother in it, life will always be well worth the struggle.
Unity
Adele
It’s strange to ride the elevator back up to a place I thought I might never see again. When I step out into the hallway, I can’t hold back my smile. Because where there used to be gleaming, sterile, white walls, there are now beautiful, colorful paintings of the world outside the Dome. A lizard—or ’zard as our fire country friends like to call them—bakes in the sun on a sandy dune; a forest-covered mountain rises almost to the ceiling; a ship crashes against a white-capped wave, sea spray spouting up and looking so real it’s like I’m in the midst of it all. Vibrant colors and life and change.
The wall paintings are all part of a movement to add color to a place that desperately needs it. The movement, appropriately called “Color Me Up,” is burning through the city like wildfire.
I stroll down the hall, admiring each painting, until I reach my destination. A blue door that used to be white. A smile spreads across my face as I lift my fist to knock.
The door opens just as I try to crack my knuckles against it, and I almost punch Lin in the face.
“Is that how you treat all your old friends?” she asks, grinning.
“Only my favorites,” I say.
I give her a hug, favoring my injured arm, and she accepts it, but pulls away quickly. Hugging’s not really her thing. “C’mon in,” she says. “It’s about time you visited.”
“Sorry,” I say, stepping inside the narrow apartment, now splashed with yellow walls and a red countertop. “Life of a councilmember’s girlfriend. Hey, I like the new décor.”
“Hey, kid,” Avery says, looking up from where he’s hunched over the small ta
ble. It’s painted red, too. “You like the colors? They are my creations. I’ve become something of a paint mixer since you took down Lecter. Well, at least after I got out of prison.”
I cringe. “Sorry you had to go through that,” I say. “You too, Lin.” One of the first things I did after Tristan told me the war had been won, was to go to the jail and release all the prisoners, including my two friends and the old man who’s apartment I borrowed while he was imprisoned. Lin’s still got a jagged scar just below her eye from being tortured, and Avery’s nose is a little crooked, having been broken.
Lin grins, like the memory is one of her favorites. “No biggie,” she says. “There aren’t many people who’ve got ‘Was tortured for information but didn’t tell them a damn thing’ on their list of life accomplishments.”
I laugh because only she’d be able to put such a positive spin on a horrific experience, wearing it like a badge of honor.
“You feel the same way, Avery?” I ask.
“She’s one of a kind,” is all he says, but there’s pride in his voice. “You’re just in time for some food.”
I groan. “Is it green, brown, and yellow rectangles?”
“Blech,” Lin says, “I hope I never see rectangle-shaped food again.”
Avery hands me a plate. “No, I call this earth dweller/fire country fusion cuisine. Or to the layman, eggs and prickler.”
I stare at the fluffy white-and-yellow, green-flecked clouds on my plate. It doesn’t look half bad. I take a tentative bite. “Mmm,” I murmur. “This is awesome.”
“Glad you like it,” Avery says. “I’ve managed to transform this minimalist place into a half-decent kitchen. Apparently cooking and painting are more my skillset than street cleaning.”
“He painted the hallway, too,” Lin says, talking with her mouth full.