CHAPTER 11

  The silence in the kitchen grew heavier by the second, and the man across from me grew impatient.

  “Well? I’m waiting.”

  “How did you know?” I asked.

  “Guards don't run from Igi-igi," he said. "They bow and submit their sight to him, and if they're lucky, he lets them live. You ran. His guards don’t do that.”

  Raine pulled a chair back, scraping the wooden floor as she sat down and adjusted. She looked over at me and glared. “We were suppose to wait alone, and now we are being questioned. Erik, we are compromised. Every second we stay increases a risk to us and our allies.” Her hand drifted to the curved sword on her belt, and lowered her voice leaning towards me. “We extract now, and report back this is too much to face unprepared.”

  I glanced at the man who was eyeing Raine’s hand touching the hilt of her sword.

  "Reinforcements?" The man's eyebrows climbed. He looked back up at me. "What exactly are you? Explain already damnit.”

  I caught Raine's eye, but she was already standing. “Forgeman Erik, I am taking lead of this squad. Protocol states that in the case of—”

  "Raine. Enough, dear god.” I cut her off. "This man saved our lives. The protocol doesn't account for multi-eyed demons ruling the slums of a lost civilization. We need to find allies somewhere.”

  Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed. "Which is exactly why we need to leave and find our allies.”

  “He could be our ally, Raine,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  The man laughed, blowing all the tension in the room away. “Yeah, you definitely aren’t from here. You don't talk like the Sibling worshiping guards. Don't move like them either. You were running a little too well through the alley. You’re trained, definitely, but you’re not from here.”

  He had a point. The second anyone took a moment to look at us they would know we didn’t belong.

  Nanda had been silent since we'd sat; his crystal-blue Veclan eyes had remained unmoved, focused directly on our host.

  "This man carries grief. Fresh as an open wound."

  The man dropped his mug. Hot liquid sloshed onto the table before he quickly flipped the cup back up. “W-what did you say?"

  "Your energy. I can read it." Nanda's voice stayed soft. "You've lost someone recently. A wife?”

  The temperature plummeted, and the man stood slowly.

  “That’s…one way to not make allies Nanda,” I whispered out of the corner of my mouth.

  Looking up at the man, I noticed details I'd missed. He had stiff shoulders that filled his threadbare brown tunic, thick hands calloused a little too much for a simple wheat farmer, and arms corded with the kind of muscle that came from discipline, not harvesting.

  He took a long breath, then sat back down.

  "My name is Jorik. Those are my children upstairs." His voice dropped. "I just risked everything to save you three idiots from a massacre. So, do you mind telling me who the hell you are?”

  Raine moved toward the door. "We're leaving."

  "No." I stepped between her and the exit. "He warned us not to look down. If we had, one of us may not be here still. He didn't have to do that."

  "He could still turn us in," she hissed.

  "Look around." I gestured at the cramped kitchen, the patched clothes on the line, the watery soup barely more than a couple of vegetables in it. "Does this look like someone working for the monster who just turned the people into pincushions?”

  Jorik watched our argument with an inquisitive smile. “So, you're not from Paradize… are you possibly from… below?”

  Erik, what are you doing? Fern panicked. Raine's right, we should leave.

  She’s wrong, we need to stay and wait at least. That thing could still be out there.

  I pulled off the stolen helmet, and green hair tumbled out, catching a bit of light from the low flame boiling the soup.

  Jorik’s smile fell and his face went white. “G-green hair." The words came out like he was seeing a long lost relative.

  "My name is Erik. This is Raine and Nanda. And yes, we're from below."

  He shook his head. “Truly?” Jorik covered his mouth and puffed his cheeks in disbelief. “They said nothing exists below Paradize. Just posionous waters, the void, and the Guardians who guard the gates.”

  “They are sort of dead now,” I said.

  "You killed them?” His eyes kept flicking up to my hair like it had a bug stuck in it.

  “Well, not just me, our whole Expedition Army.” I said.

  Raine scoffed. “Sure, tell him everything, our names, our mission, what’s next, the weaknesses of our infusions?”

  I ignored her. “Why do you keep looking at my hair?”

  “It’s… you don't know?" Jorik laughed, shaking his head. “What am I saying, of course not. How could you? But wait, the Guardians—they're really dead?"

  "Three of four, yes.” I nodded.

  Jorik turned to Nanda, who still hadn't broken his stare. “I see. You're right. I lost someone. My wife, Ana… sorry for how I reacted.”

  “No need Brother.” Nanda said bowing his hands.

  “The monster killed her?" I asked.

  “No, but to his brother.” Jorik sat back and got quiet.

  I waved Raine back, and after a moment of hesitation, she came back to the table, sat reluctantly, pulled out her notebook, and began taking notes. She cleared her throat and flipped to a new page. “Mister Jorik, what is this place, really? I heard the word Paradize?"

  "The last bastion of mortality in a burning world. If that’s even true.”

  “A burning world?” I asked.

  Jorik nodded. “The Siblings, they rule Paradize, and protect Paradize from the flames below—that's the lie they sell us." Jorik stood. “But tell me, it’s not true, right? The world below. Is it coated in flames?”

  Raine looked over at Nanda, and I was confused. I spoke up.

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  “In flames? No. It’s… normal. Pretty ruthless mages run the country but—”

  “One moment,“ Jorik said, standing.

  Raine tensed as he moved to the windows. Jorik pulled wooden shutters closed, plunging us into darkness except for the stove's glow. He lit candles and placed them between us like a wall of fire.

  “I see… the world below it exists…and you exisit! Your green hair." The shadows danced across his face.

  “You still haven’t answered me Jorik, I told you about us. Why do you keep mentioning my hair?” I said leaning forward with clenched fists.

  Jorik didn’t answer me. Instead, he said, “Tell me, Erik, are you a twin-soul?”

  Fear spiked through Fern. And I sucked in air. “W-wait, how did you know?”

  "Amazing. Ana would have loved to meet you."

  “Jorik, why do you know that? What about my hair?!” I stood frustrated, and the chair kicked out from behind me.

  “I’m sorry, my boy, there’s simply too much to explain.”

  “I’ve got time,” I said firmly leaning down.

  “No, we don’t. Hold your questions about hair color. Jorik, enough dancing around our questions.” Raine's tactical mind took over. "You helped us. Why? You knew we weren’t guards. Either you're planning to double-cross us, or you want something. Which is it?"

  Jorik studied us in the candlelight before speaking.

  “Anyone dumb enough to steal a guard’s uniform would never serve the Siblings. I had to know who you were.”

  "The Siblings? You mentioned them earlier. Who are they?” Raine asked writing with speed.

  “They are the Five Immortal Rulers of Paradize. Demi-gods. Igi-igi is one of them. He rules the First Tier of Paradize. The Slums. The Siblings have always ruled Paradize. And their cruelty only gets worse each year.” His voice darkened. “The Criers were born out of that cruelty. The Criers were born out of the forging of slaves just because of where someone was born. Flash forward ten years, and Ana and I were part of the revolutionaries. We were Criers.”

  Raine caught his word choice immediately. "Were? Did you quit?”

  "Ana died in our last mission. The Siblings took nearly the entire Crier army. I quit shortly after. I can’t let my kids grow up as orphans.” He trailed off.

  This is getting complicated, Fern said.

  It always does. Fate loves fucking with us and then giving us information through a firehose.

  Jorik moved to a wooden chest and pulled out yellowed parchment. “You said you wanted to know why I am so focused on your hair. Right, Erik?”

  I nodded as he walked back to the table and moved the candles to unroll the parchment he held. “The Siblings always told us that the Guardians protect us from shapeshifting demons below."

  He flattened the parchment out, and in the dim candlelight, I saw faded text and an even more faded drawing. The parts of the drawing that I could see pictured a young man with green hair holding a small blade in front of five shadow figures.

  “That’s the reason? Did my hair remind you of the man in this picture? Jorik… that’s not me.” I said, confused.

  “Ah, no, Erik, not just that. I can tell you are him. It has been foretold for over hundreds of years!” He said excited.

  I shook my head. “No, no, no. Not happening. I’m not buying into any sort of prophecy shit. Not one bit.”

  “Just wait Erik. After I explain maybe you will believe.”

  Jorik pulled out a separate sheet showing a map of Paradize seen from the side in a cross-sectional view. It showed the city's five tiers, each tier smaller than the one below it, and in the middle of Paradize, at the top of Tier Three, a large black diamond stood like the city’s dark heart.. “Paradize, it isn't a sanctuary from the horrors outside. It’s to keep us inside. It's a soul farm."

  “I’m sorry, what? A soul farm?" I leaned forward.

  Jorik nodded. “When someone dies in Paradize, their soul doesn't move on. It gets trapped and absorbed into the system of the tier they were on when they die. The soul then slowly travels through small pipes that connect each of the tiers, snaking their way to this right here.” He tapped the black diamond. "The Soul Nexus. The Siblings feed on these souls from here. The nexus refines all the souls, which are then fed to the Siblings, granting them hundreds of years to live, and gives them power for every soul, and the quality of the soul they consume is.”

  My stomach turned. "They're harvesting people... So a soul farm sounds right then.”

  "For centuries, every soul that has been born here and died here has become fuel for their power."

  Nanda's eyes traced the faded ancient text. "This document... it's over four hundred years old. By… a Guru Lek?”

  "The gurus who prophesied this spread their knowledge to their disciples. This continued for years until the last purging of Criers, where the Siblings and their guards killed and silenced anyone who kept this knowledge."

  The candles flickered. Outside, distant sobs echoed as families made their way onto the streets to collect their loved ones; most all were impaled from Igi-igi's rampage.

  "There's more," Jorik said, pointing to another section showing five figures around a man sitting in a throne. "The Siblings aren't the top. They have a father, a supposed living god—living on the Pillar's Crown. He cast his children down into Paradize to prove to him they can build strength, harvest souls, and prove to him that they are strong enough to challenge him."

  His finger moved back to the faded text. "Prophecies about shapeshifters from below. Led by one with bright green hair and two souls."

  Another fate I didn't choose. I stood up again frustrated. “No, I don’t believe it. We are here by accident, and we will leave on purpose.”

  “You must stay! You are here to save us, it is written!” Jorik said, standing up slightly unhinged and tapping the parchment.

  I let out a sigh. “I’m not him. It’s just a coincidence. A four-hundred-year prophecy? Really, Jorik, you believe that?”

  “Ana did, so I will too. We have fought this battle for centuries, Erik. Should I die, those who come after me will take up the flag of liberty and keep moving forward.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it, and blew air out of my nose.

  “There’s something else too.” Jorik started. “A month ago, everything changed when that woman appeared.” Jorik moved to the window and cracked open the shutters to peer through. "A woman appeared in the slums at midnight. She looked like no human I’d seen before. Beautiful and glowing in the moonlight. He hair was dark as ink, and behind her, she had nine fox tails, white as bone. She spoke of warriors, of men and women called The Cinders from below. She spoke of how they could shapeshift and how they are determined to keep climbing the pillar. And then, she said one of them that will climb, would have green hair and carry two souls."

  The name escaped before I could stop it. "Luna."

  Jorik spun around. "You know her?"

  "She was..." I struggled for words. “A friend. Then she vanished during an attack. That was almost a whole year ago.”

  “Well here, she rallied us." His voice grew thick. "Turned fifty broken revolutionaries into five thousand powerful Criers in a week. The upper tiers even joined. We planned to strike during Igi-igi's drunken celebration when he invited the other Siblings to join him. The plan was to use this moment to infiltrate the Nexus and destroy it.”

  He slammed his fist on the table. The candles jumped.

  "It was a trap, though. Someone had warned them. Half of the Criers—“ His voice broke. "Ana died screaming when Igi-igi dropped her from the third tier.”

  He coughed and cleared his throat before taking a deep breath and continuing.

  "Luna was injured during the massacre and was rescued by a Guru,” Jorik continued. “She’s been recovering on the Third Tier ever since as far as I know.”

  "So." Jorik's eyes burned in the candlelight. “You see? You are the one mentioned in the prophecy! You’re here to help us rally the tiers together and fight back!”

  Tell him the truth, Fern urged.

  "I don't believe in prophecies." I met his gaze. “The world isn't burning, and nations thrive below. I’m not here to help, we were mearly sent here as scouts. And now we need to get back before our Expedition Force follows us up here.” I stood. "We're already being hunted. Mages want to destroy our entire organization, and now you want us three to help you and your revolutionaries lick their wounds and take down five demi-gods?”

  Jorik waved his hands. “No, no. You don’t understand, if the Siblings are allowed to remain fed on a steady flow of souls, one day, they will come down and destroy your Academy, and worse, the entire country.”

  I looked around at Raine and Nanda and back at Jorik.

  “Look, we can’t we are not even at a Rank high enough to decide that. How about this we will run back to our main force and let them know and if they want to get involved then we can do that.” I said, feeling like I was negotiating a group project.

  Jorik watched us desperately. When silence fell, he whispered:

  "If you won't fight... take my children. Please." His voice shattered. "I can't watch them die. And I can’t imagine letting their soul be eaten. Ana made me promise—if the prophecy came true, if a green haired boy showed up, I'd help him get to where he needs to, to get stronger, earn power and defeat the Siblings for good."

  His mention about power and strength made me pause. The stronger I get, the more I can guarantee my friends will not die.

  “Erik, what about the others?” Raine said suddenly. ”The other scout teams.”

  My gut twisted. Mel, Silas, Tevin, Sora—running head first into this hornets nest.

  Five long horn blasts shattered the night.

  Jorik went white.

  “What’s that mean?” I asked.

  Jorik stuttered. "The gates. But that's—"

  A knock at the window startled Jorik, sending him falling backwards until he fell on his rear.

  I ran up and peered out the window.

  “Careful!” Raine whispered.

  I saw a familiar white hair, and yanked the window open. Hakashi tumbled through, covered in dust.

  Nanda smiled. “Brother Hakashi! You found—”

  “No time! T-the entire Cinder army," he gasped. "At the gates."

  “What?!” The word ripped from my throat.

  "Walking straight into hell," Nanda said.

  Hakashi reached out and grabbed my shoulder. “But Erik—there's more."

  I felt my stomach ache grow.

  Hakashi met my eyes. "Noah woke up."

  The world hit my chest as if a hammer had been dropped on it.

  "Not in chains either,” he continued. "He's leading them."

  “Leading?”

  “It’s a prisoner’s march,” Hakashi said with dread.

  “He’s sending them to their deaths." The words came out broken. "My brother is leading three hundred cinders right into a soul harvest."

  "We have to stop this," Nanda said.

  But even as we rushed out of the house and clambered onto the nearby rooftops, I could sense the trap was already closing.