Monsters of Men (53 page)

And we will give it to them. After negotiation, but we will give it to them.

How do you know I will be the Sky?
I ask.
You cannot tell the Land who to choose. I have seen it in their voices. The Land comes to an agreement after the Sky has died.

Correct,
the Sky shows, pulling his lichen cloak around him tighter.
But I can see no other choice they would make.

I am not qualified,
I show.
I am still angry with the Clearing, and I cannot kill them, even when they deserve it.

And do you not think that conflict is what makes the Sky?
he shows.
To seek a third choice when the two offered seem impossible? You alone know what it is like to carry that weight. You alone have already made these choices.

Looking down, I can see now that, in addition to the Source, it is the two of the Clearing who were here before, the noisy man with the darker skin–

And the Knife’s one in particular.

And what do you make of the Knife,
the Sky asks,
now that you have seen him again in the flesh?

Because there he was.

Running towards the Source, seeing me but not even slowing, greeting the Source with so much joy, so much love, that I very nearly had to ride away right then. And the Source’s voice opened up so wide with the same feelings that it expanded out around everyone nearby.

Including the Return.

And for a moment, I was in that joy, I was inside that love and happiness, inside the reunion and the reconnection, and I saw the Knife again for the flawed Clearing that he was, and as the Source forgave the Knife, as the Source provided absolution for everything the Knife had done–

For everything
Todd
had done–

I felt my voice provide it, too, I felt my voice join with the Source’s and offer my own forgiveness, offer to let go and forget every wrong he had done to me, every wrong he had done to our people–

Because I could see through the Source’s voice how the Knife punishes himself for his crimes more than I ever could–

He is just one of the Clearing,
I show to the Sky.
As unremarkable as any of them.

He is not,
the Sky shows gently.
He is as remarkable among them as the Return is among the Land. And that is why you could not forgive him when you arrived here. That is why your forgiveness of him now, even if only through the voice of the Source
–

I do not forgive him on my own
–

But you have seen how it is possible. And that in itself marks you yet again as remarkable.

I do not feel remarkable,
I show.
I only feel tired.

Peace is here at last,
the Sky shows, reaching over to place a hand on my shoulder.
You will rest. You will be happy.

His voice is surrounding me now and I take a breath in surprise–

For the future is in the Sky’s voice, a future he rarely speaks of, because it has been so dark lately–

But here it is as bright as the falling flakes of ice–

A future where the Clearing keeps its word and stays within its borders and where the body of the Land that surrounds us now on this hilltop can live unbothered by war–

But one where the Clearing can learn to speak the voice of the Land, too, one where understanding is not only possible, but desired–

A future where I work by the Sky’s side, learning what it is to be a leader–

A future where he guides and teaches me–

A future of sunlight and rest–

A future with no more death–

The Sky’s hand squeezes my shoulder ever so slightly.

The Return has no father,
he shows.
The Sky has no son.

And I understand what he is saying, what he is asking–

And he sees my indecision–

Because if he was lost to me like my one in particular–

It is one possible future,
he shows, warmth still in his voice.
There may be others.
He looks up.
And here one arrives now.

The Source leads them, happiness and optimism in his voice preceding him and greeting us as he crests the hill. The Clearing man is second, “Bradley” in their language, his own voice louder and harsher and much less far-reaching than the Source.

And finally her. The Knife’s one in particular.

Viola.

She rides up over the hill, her steed leaving hoofprints in the gathered white of the ice. She looks far healthier than before, almost well, and I wonder for a moment at the change, I wonder if they have found a cure for the band, the one that still stings and burns on my own arm–

But before I can ask, before the Sky can properly greet them, a
crack
resounds over the valley, strangely muffled under the blanket of white.

A
crack
that is unmistakable.

The Knife’s one in particular turns around quickly in her saddle.

“Was that a gunshot?” she asks.

A cloud immediately comes over the voice of the Source and the man of the Clearing, too.

And the Sky.
It could be nothing,
he shows.

“When has it ever been nothing in this place?” the man of the Clearing says.

The Source turns to the Sky.
Can our eyes see it?
he asks.
Are we near enough to see?

“What do you mean?” the man of the Clearing asks. “See what?’

Wait a moment,
the Sky says.

The Knife’s one in particular is holding a small box she has taken from her pocket. “Todd?” she says into it. “Todd, are you there?”

But there is no answer.

Not before we all hear a familiar sound–

“That’s the
ship
!” the man from the Clearing says, spinning his steed round to see the vessel rising from the valley floor.

“Todd!” the Knife’s one in particular yells into the metal box–

But again there is no answer.

What is happening?
shows the Sky, command in his voice.
We thought the pilot of the ship was killed
–

“She
was,
” the man from the Clearing says. “And I’m the only other one who knows how to fly it–”

But there it is, lumbering into the air from the centre of their city–

And beginning to fly right towards us–

With increasing speed–

“Todd!” the Knife’s one in particular is saying in increasing panic. “Answer me!”

It’s Prentiss,
the Source shows to the Sky.
It can only be him.

“But
how
?” the man from the Clearing demands.

It doesn’t matter now,
the Source shows.
If it’s the Mayor
–

We need to run,
finishes the Sky, turning to the Land and sending out the order instantly, run and run and
RUN
–

And there is a
whisking
sound from the vessel, the vessel that is almost upon us, a
whisking
sound that makes us turn from where we have already started to flee–

The vessel has fired its biggest weapons–

Fired them right at us–

[T
ODD
]

“Wake up, Todd,”
says the Mayor’s voice over the comm system.
“You’ll want to see this.”

I groan and roll over–

And bump into the body of Ivan, streaks of his blood spilling cross the floor as the ship rocks and rolls–

As the ship
rocks–

I look up at the monitors. We’re in the air. We’re up in the bloody
air–

“What the
hell
?!” I yell–

The Mayor’s face pops up on one of the screens.
“How do you like my flying?”
he says.

“
How?
” I say, getting to my feet. “How do you know–?’

“The exchange of knowledge, Todd,”
he says and I see him adjust some controls.
“Did you not listen to anything I told you? Once you’re connected to the voice, you know everything
it
knows.”

“Bradley,” I say, realizing. “You reached into him and took out how to fly the ship.”

“Quite so,”
he says and there’s that smile again.
“It’s surprisingly easy. Once you know the knack.”

“Put us down!” I shout. “Put us down right now–”

“Or you’ll do what, Todd?”
he asks.
“You made your choice. Made it perfectly clear.”

“It ain’t about
choosing
! Ben’s the only father I ever had–”

Which, as soon as it’s outta my mouth, I know is the wrong thing to say cuz the Mayor’s eyes go darker than I ever seen ’em, and when he speaks, it’s like the black beyond coming down from above and outta his mouth.