Holt and Mira, alone now, looked at each other.
“Can we really make it to the Tower?” Holt asked, simply and pointedly.
“I’ve never been,” she answered back. “Ben was the only person I’ve ever known who’d seen it. Well, Ben and the
Librarian,
of course. But others have done it. A few have even gone inside.”
“How many?” Holt asked.
“Five,” she said, and Holt sighed in exasperation. The small number was a testament to how difficult the quest would be. “At least according to the records in the Vault, but there could have been others, I suppose. Freebooters not registered with Midnight City … but it’s unlikely. It’s inside the core, the deepest part of the Strange Lands … and the most dangerous. The Anomalies there are more deadly than anything in the other rings. Only the best Freebooters can stay alive in the core.”
Holt rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Well,” he replied, thinking it through. “It’s lucky we
have
the best, then.” He looked at her and Mira looked back.
“What did the Librarian mean when he called Zoey the Apex?” Holt asked.
Mira had forgotten about that; it had been in the middle of a tense situation. Had he really meant that? If so, how could he have known? Surely he was wrong.…
“Mira?”
“You know that when the Strange Lands formed, during the invasion, no one who lived in that part of the world ever came out, right? They just vanished?”
Holt nodded with a dark expression.
“The Librarian believed that one person
did
come out,” she continued. “He thought that the life forces of everyone inside the zone were split and merged … except for one. He called that person the Apex.”
Holt looked dubious. “How did he come up with
that
theory?”
Mira shook her head. “Who knows? He was part genius, part crazy. It was some complicated equation he was always working on. The thing was too technical for me, it took up six blackboards inside the Vault, but he believed it, I know that much, and he felt that whoever it was, was very important. But he never told me why.”
“Do you believe him?” Holt asked, holding her gaze.
“I don’t know,” Mira said. “Do
you
believe Zoey really controlled the dam?”
“It’s the only thing I can figure,” Holt said with a perturbed look.
“But there’s been nothing to show she has that kind of power,” Mira said. “And why
would
she have it? It’s so specific.”
“And there’s the fact that that entire thing was run-down and rusting where it sat. It shouldn’t have been able to work at all.” Holt winced suddenly and sat down on an old hay bale next to him.
He lifted up his shirt and studied a wicked-looking gash over the back of his left ribs. Mira winced along with him at the sight of it. It must have been something that happened yesterday during their escape.
“God, Holt, did you
sleep
with that?” she asked in annoyance. “You need to dress it.”
“I was too tired last night,” he said, still looking at the wound. It had stopped bleeding, but it was caked with dried blood and dirt. “I didn’t think it was this bad.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” Mira said as she stood up. “I’ll get your med-kit.”
“Actually,” Holt said. “I was … kind of hoping you might help me do it.”
Mira went still with her back to Holt as the weight of what he was saying occurred to her. “I thought Holt Hawkins did everything himself,” she said, reaching for the med-kit near the campfire. When she turned around, they stared at each other as implications passed between them.
“Well, I can’t totally reach it,” he replied slowly. “At least … not without you.”
Mira felt a gentle warmth flow through her as she held his look. She moved toward and around him, kneeling down behind his back. “I look after you … you look after me? Is that the idea?” Mira asked softly. She felt Holt breathe as her hands found the wound and started cleaning it. He relaxed at her touch.
“That’s the idea,” he said.
“I have to tell you something, Holt,” she said, and her mouth suddenly felt dry. “You asked me a question,” Mira said. “About Ben. And … I think I owe you an answer. I think you deserve to—”
“Hey.” Holt’s voice was almost a whisper, but it was enough to stop her. Mira looked up and saw he was looking gently down at her. “Do you think you could maybe tell me this tomorrow?” he asked. “Instead of today?”
Mira held his gaze as long as she could … and then looked away, back to his injury. She nodded. It was funny the way life threw things at you. It could be unfair. It hit you with things you wanted, things that made you happy, things you knew you needed … but it never seemed to do it at the right time, did it?
When she was done dressing the injury, they packed in silence, and were gone an hour later.
* * *
MOVING NORTHWARD THROUGH THE
plains turned out to be a painstaking journey. Holt wanted to avoid the more direct routes and not push through the tall grass or the wheat fields, since it would leave an obvious trail behind them. The decision made her remember the price on Holt’s head, and she wondered again exactly who was looking for him. And why. It was something he had yet to tell her, but she was patient. He would tell her when it was time.
As they moved, Mira looked up into the air. They had spent so much time in forests or under Midnight City’s cavernous ceilings that the open sky felt impossibly tall and deep. There were kids who lived most of their lives in Midnight City, never feeling the warmth of the daylight, and most who ventured outside the cavern were terrified of the sky.
It was disorienting, dizzying to look at when the ceiling had always been a few hundred feet above you. They said it felt like they were going to fall up and
into
it, and whenever Mira left Midnight City, she always got a sense of what they meant.
Ahead of them, the ground sloped upward, and the crest of a grassy hill blocked the view of the horizon.
“The Max!” Zoey shouted, and dashed forward. Max barked excitedly and chased after her.
“Zoey, don’t get too far ahead, please,” Mira called after her.
“We won’t!” the little girl yelled back as she and the dog raced up the hill to see what lay on the other side. It left Mira and Holt to walk together, and she noticed something else, something in Holt’s hand. The sight of it caused a pang of concern.
“Holt,” she said. “Why isn’t the Chance Generator in your pack?”
“I don’t like it in there,” he said without looking back. “I like it out where I can see it.”
Mira studied it closer. She wasn’t sure, but it looked like a few of the beads had been slid upward. It looked like it was
active.
Surely, Holt of all people wouldn’t be using the abacus. “Holt, why don’t you put the abacus in your pack?”
“It’s okay, I can hold it,” he said. “I don’t mind.”
“Holt, I’d really like it if you put it in your pack. It’s not something you should be touching.”
Holt glanced back at her, and when he did, there was an odd look in his eyes. Thoughts and calculations seemed to swirl behind them, dark ones, and it was something she had never seen from him before. But it lasted only a second.
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Thing makes me cringe anyway.” He undid a pocket on his pack and stuffed the abacus inside. Mira couldn’t tell if it had been turned on or not, but at least he wasn’t holding it anymore. He’d used it only once, and she was doubtful that short an exposure could lead to compulsion … but who knew? It was a powerful artifact, and he had been tight-lipped about his experience with it. She had assumed it was just a hesitancy to discuss the negative effects it had caused in order to save them all. But what if it was more than that? What if he had used it at full power?
“Guys!” Zoey’s shouts from on top of the hill tore Mira from her thoughts. “Come see! Hurry!”
They both looked up and saw Zoey staring down at them impatiently. Holt smiled at Mira, and shrugged. “After you,” he said, motioning her forward.
Mira smiled back. He seemed himself again—it probably wasn’t anything to worry about. She kept walking and felt the ground start to incline under her feet.
They climbed to the top of the hill and crested the rise to where Zoey and Max sat, looking at the horizon that was now revealed before them.
When Holt saw what was there, Mira saw his body sag as his brain tried to make sense of it. “Holy God…,” he exclaimed, though it was barely a whisper. He had never seen it before, she guessed.
Mira instinctively slipped her hand into Holt’s, felt him squeeze it back tightly. She looked to the north, and saw the beginnings of a landscape that was beyond description. She had seen vistas like this over and over again, but the first sighting of it, from a distance like this, always brought goose bumps to her skin. It carried with it a tangible excitement and wonder, and she had never not felt a thrill looking at it.
The horizon in front of them was covered in impossibly black, rolling storm clouds as far as the eye could see, towering powerfully over everything. Lightning flashed from those clouds, but not like any normal lightning. This was purple and green and red, and when it struck the ground, flashes of white energy sparked upward. The sky, where it peeked through, seemed to waver and distort somehow, like a borealis, only in daylight. Near the ground, strange colors faded in and out of view, disappearing in one place and reappearing in another. And the sound of deep thunder reached and rolled around them, rumbling in the air longer than it should.
Mira looked down at Zoey. The little girl was looking to the north, but unlike Holt, she looked more thoughtful than astonished. “It’s the Strange Lands, sweetheart,” Mira told her, petting the girl’s hair. “It’s where we’re going.”
“I know,” Zoey replied. “It’s where I was born.”
The comment was enough to pull Holt’s stare away, and he and Mira shared a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
In the back of her mind, Mira couldn’t help but hear the final words of the Librarian again. His words … and his warning …
“Can I ride the Max to the Strange Lands?” Zoey begged, ignoring Holt’s question and looking up at them. Holt frowned.
“She’s just going to keep asking until you give in,” Mira said.
“I’m not sure that’s a great reason to let her do it,” he answered back.
“Please, Holt?” Zoey asked. “Please?” Zoey looked at him with her clear eyes, waiting hopefully. Holt considered his options … and finally sighed.
“All right,” he said, “but just for a little ways. You’re gonna be too big for Max soon. He’s not a Saint Bernard.”
Zoey’s eyes widened with excitement. “I’ll never be too big for the Max,” she said as she moved to him and crawled onto his back. Max, for his part, wasn’t as shocked as Mira would have expected. He sniffed Zoey a few times when she lay down on top of him, but otherwise seemed unconcerned.
“Wrap your arms around his neck, hold on tight,” Holt instructed.
Zoey did, her arms encircling the dog, and she laid her head down across the back of his neck.
Holt studied them both a few more seconds … and then he whistled three sharp notes.
Max responded instantly, darting across the open ground like a rocket. He moved so fast, it didn’t even seem like he felt Zoey’s weight at all.
The little girl screamed in delight as they raced down the hill, Max’s legs darting them forward at breakneck speed, until they reached the bottom and rushed over the grass, heading north.
Holt and Mira silently looked after the disappearing pair, their hands still intertwined. After a moment, Holt looked at Mira. “Ready?” he asked.
Mira hesitated, enjoying the soft warmth of his hand. There was so much she wanted to say. Why was it so hard?
“Sure,” she said, but the word rang hollow in the afternoon air.
Holt held her gaze a moment more; then he started down the hill, slowly following after Zoey and Max. Mira held on to his hand until it slid away and out of her grasp. When it was gone, her hand felt cold, even in the sunlight.
Mira followed after Holt, and as she moved, she withdrew one of the necklaces from her shirt: a gold chain with two small, worn, golden dice cubes attached at the end. It was a necklace Ben had given her years ago, one she still wore.
As she contemplated it, she reached in a pocket and pulled something else out. When she opened her hand, a polished black stone lay in her palm.
Mira’s gaze moved between the necklace and the stone as she walked. Ahead, in the far distance, purple and red lightning flashed from storm clouds amid a prismatic, wavering sky. Strange thunder rolled ominously in the air, and it seemed to follow them as they walked north, toward whatever fate awaited them within that strange, surreal horizon.
EPILOGUE
NORTH OF MIDNIGHT CITY,
amid a grove of trees that looked out over a rippling ocean of grass and wheat, something stirred.
Fields of energy shimmered as they bled away, revealing the machines that were hidden underneath them. Three legs, small and agile, painted green and orange. There were only four of them now—they had lost many since landing on the continent, and the ones that remained had deep gashes, dangling wires ripped free by crazed human hands, and gaping holes from shotgun blasts.
But they were still functional. They would hunt and track without question, until they finally fell apart.
The one in the middle had bold, differently colored armor, and it stood out next to the others, which gave it a cautious berth. It scanned the sky impatiently.
In a few moments, it found what it was expecting.
There was a roar above them. Larger cloaking fields wavered and fell away, revealing three huge ships hovering in the air directly above the tripods.
They were green and orange as well, and of a different design than either the reds or the blue and whites. Dangling underneath each one were four other walkers.
A mechanical whine echoed as clamps and grips released. The walkers dropped to the ground, and as they did, lights flashed and engines hummed to life. They were of a similar design to the others … yet different.