Page 7

Wyatt stood at the bow end of his ship as the island of Remigan grew before them. Despite it being small, it was one of the most colorful islands he’d ever seen, with its big blue lake and small forest, and its sprawling crop fields of gold, red, and every shade of green he could’ve imagined. Even the main port city itself was vibrant amongst its backdrop of stone buildings, with its red and blue clay roofs, canvas market canopies the full spectrum of the rainbow, and the intricate sail patterns of all the merchant and transport ships at the docks. Even though evacuation had already begun, the island appeared bustling with activity.

The view above, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as charming. Mining company support ships the size of cities hovered above Remigan, casting parts of the fields and lake into shadow. There were four of them total, each the shallow, wide shape of a pinnace if that pinnace were a mile wide and two long. From the bow of each pinnace shape extended a handful of ropes that looked like threads from a distance, even though they were each thicker than Wyatt’s shoulders. Those ropes were attached to the handful of massive ships responsible for the support’s transport, though their sails were stowed for the time being.

The four support ships themselves were set up in as much of a diamond as they could be around the imperfect shape of Remigan, and from the keel of each of those ships extended six giant chains. Each link in those chains were the size of a small house, and they dropped below the island and came up against its underbelly, with the other end being attached to the support ship diagonally across. The length of each chain, Wyatt knew, was capable of being adjusted, and with all four ships crossing their chains underneath the island and creating a support, and their hearts all being the size of small towns themselves, they could keep the island of Remigan in the air as long as it took to harvest its heart.

The helmsman of Wyatt’s ship yelled that they were putting in, and one hip against the bulwark was all the support he needed to stay on his feet as they approached the docks, barely skimming the fenders before they came to a stop in the slip.

The image of Remigan as a bustling trade town was tainted by the lines of people who stood near the docks as they pulled in. Hundreds and hundreds of them were waiting to get through a checkpoint to be let onto evacuation ships, and they were all stood in an almost neat single-file line that wound up and down the road. Most of these people, who had crates and bags of belongings on the ground around them, were likely local business owners — those who could afford passage for their families and their important goods, but couldn’t afford private ships like the estate owners could.

A mass of other civilians fanned out along the edge of the blockade that had been set up to funnel people through the checkpoint. Some were shouting at the Sovereign soldiers who stood on the other side of that barrier, some were shouting past the soldiers at the transport ships, and others were more focused on the line of evacuees. No matter who those people were protesting, though, the upset on Remigan was palpable.

“Wyatt!” Carter Hann approached the bow of the ship as he ran his fingers through his curly, windswept red hair. He cast his green eyes toward their fleet and asked, “What word should I send to the other ships?”

“Tell the soldiers to stay put,” Wyatt told him as the other ships in his fleet pulled into their own slips nearby. “I want you with me while I get a better idea of the situation here.”

“You got it,” Carter answered, and called for a runner to relay the message.

While that runner was assigned, Wyatt wandered to the opposite side of the ship and to a series of levers set into the bulwark. He pulled one of the levers to free his mistling, Maple, from her stall set into the hull and then gave a shrill whistle. She swooped up over the edge of the ship, twirled in the air to aim herself at the deck, and landed directly behind him.

He turned to greet her and check her over, since she’d been below and in the care of the ship’s stableman for the trip. He waited for her to finish stretching before he held out his hand, and she pressed her narrow head into his palm before he moved on to run his fingers through the sable plumage along her neck, and shoulder, and back.

After he checked her feathers, he held out his arms and said, “Wings.”

She spread her long, thin wings and kept them suspended while he examined them, until he was satisfied that she was still in perfect health. “Good,” he said, and she tucked them back to her sides. Just for fun, he went to stand in front of her and grimaced, saying, “Teeth,” and then laughed as she bared her small, sharp teeth in the most threatening way she could, which really wasn’t at all.

“Good girl,” he praised, and scratched behind her long, pointed ears. “Alright, go and fetch your saddle.”

She dove back over the side of the ship to return to her pen, and then came back with her saddle. While he put it on her, Carter returned and began to do the same with his blue draken, Kip. Once they were done saddling up and hopped up onto their mounts’ backs, they headed down the ramp to go and search for the commanding officer on Remigan.

There were upwards of fifty large blue tents scattered along the docks and serving as temporary housing for soldiers stationed on Remigan, which told Wyatt that soldiers no longer felt safe staying amongst civilians in taverns and inns, and the situation was worse than he’d hoped. He navigated through the sea of tents to the only one with a flag poised at its peak, and dismounted and then ducked through the flap with Carter right behind him.

There were two men at the center of the room when they entered, with several others doing their own tasks in other areas. One of the two in the middle was the Major and high-ranking official Wyatt was looking for, and he was whispering to the other, a sergeant who nodded, saluted, and then turned for the exit.

The Major finally noticed them as his gaze followed that man out, and he hurried to meet them by the entrance.

“Vice Admiral Kim,” he greeted, “glad you’re here, Sir.”

“Major Ludo,” Wyatt said, “it’s good to meet you.” He nodded toward Carter. “This is Lieutenant Hann.”

“Lieutenant,” Ludo greeted.

And Carter replied, “Major.”

“I hope it’s not just the two of you,” Ludo said .

“We’ve brought five ships,” Wyatt told him. “Each with seventy-five soldiers.”

“Good.”

“What’s been happening here?” he asked.

“We’ve had to set up lines for the transport ships,” Ludo said. “Come with me.” He waved for Wyatt and Carter to follow as he led the way out of the tent. “There are soldiers stationed every so often down the line to protect those in it.”

They began to weave toward the lines, and Wyatt asked, “Protect them from who?”

“The protesters,” Ludo answered. “Before we set up the barrier, people were crowding the docks. It was almost impossible for anyone who’d already paid to reach a ship.”

“Is that when you asked for reinforcement?” Wyatt asked.

“We asked for reinforcement when an indentured man killed his employer. He accused him of keeping his hundred dominion allotment for himself, and we almost couldn’t get control of the chaos that followed.”

“Did he?” Wyatt asked.

“Did he what?”

“Keep the allotment?”

“He’s dead,” Ludo said, “we’ll never know.”

“And the indentured man?” Wyatt asked. “Where is he now?”

“Ship at the end of the docks,” Ludo answered. “It’s a sponsor from some merchant on Utren, but they’ve only agreed to taking on sixty contracts. It hasn’t helped the chaos. Ship’s already full because people who can’t afford passage would rather be on it headed for a bleak employment than be left here. I’m not sure what else to do, if people think committing crimes is a good way to get off the island, we might have to start dropping offenders to discourage more violence.”

Wyatt stopped in his tracks. With thinking like that, it was no wonder evacuating the island wasn’t going well.

“Sir?” Ludo prompted, stopping when he realized Wyatt wasn’t following.

“Dropping people who are so scared they’d rather take a contract worse than prison instead of falling with the island is not humane.”

“A man was killed, Sir,” Ludo argued. “If there’s no other way to keep the peace…”

“There will be another way,” Wyatt said .

There was a lengthy pause before Ludo nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Wyatt nodded too, and Ludo picked up walking again as they got closer to the lines. “Are these all the soldiers on the island?” Wyatt asked, scanning the soldiers at the barrier and as far as he could see down the line.

“No,” Ludo said. “More than half of my soldiers are at the mines protecting the workers from more protesters. Others are at the homes of estate owners to protect them from thieves and looters until their ships arrive.”

“Have there been any other escalations of violence so far?”

Ludo shook his head. “Nothing major, but the way things are going, it won’t be long.” They stopped near the barrier, listening briefly to the low rumble of the protesters. “What should we do? I’d planned on implementing a curfew tonight.”

Wyatt hummed thoughtfully as they stood before the long lines and crowds of people. Surely the civilians had to be as tired as the soldiers were, and tired people made for angry and impatient people. A curfew would give everyone a chance to rest, and he was there to keep things peaceful, not to escalate the situation. But he wasn’t entirely certain they could enforce a curfew without some use of force, which would send the wrong message. And if they used none and were unsuccessful at establishing a curfew, then it would give the protesters and civilians the impression that they could do whatever they wanted, and that may very well escalate the situation too.

“I don’t think we need a curfew,” he said eventually, “not yet. I’ve brought reinforcements, that’ll increase our presence and allow your soldiers to get some rest. So long as protesters aren’t impeding anyone else from evacuating, then I think we merely need to keep things organized. Let us have a look around, and I’ll come back to you with anything else later today. I’d like for you to have numbers for me when we return — the most recent census you have, how many soldiers are on the island, miners and their progress, etcetera.”

“Yes, Sir,” Ludo said.

“How do we get to the mines?” Wyatt asked.

“Follow the main road out of town,” he answered. “Take the fork for Weston and you’ll see a marked road for the mines a few miles out. It’s about a two-hour ride if you’re taking your time.”

“Thank you,” Wyatt told him, and Ludo gave a small salute before leaving Wyatt and Carter there to return to his tent .

Before doing anything else, Wyatt wanted to see the situation at the mines, and he motioned for Carter to follow him back to their mounts.

“Can you believe that guy?” Carter whispered as they hopped into their saddles. He laughed dryly to himself, “He wanted to start dropping people,” and then glanced over at Wyatt, “what a prick.”

Wyatt nodded his agreement, but he didn’t know what else to say about it, so he gave a tug on the reins to lead the way out of town. They rode past the barriers to head down the main street, instantly starting to get a better idea of how things were going. The people waiting in line for the ships were small local business owners, as he suspected. Unable to afford their own private ships, they stood in line with their families to get on public transport ships, with their crates of belongings and the boxes of goods they hadn’t left behind in their shops.

The shops themselves, however, were being left behind. All along the main road, storefronts were boarded up, the windows and doors blocked from anyone on the street to even peer into. So far, it appeared that the military presence and the length of the line was providing witnesses and preventing anyone from trying to break into those shops. Some of the people who weren’t waiting had set up small stalls or carts all along the length of the barriers, where they were preparing and selling food to those who were waiting – and likely trying to earn their fare off the island before it was too late.

“Sir!”

As Wyatt and Carter traveled up the road, a woman who’d been sitting on the porch of an abandoned shop stood and sprinted to them in the street. She showed no hesitation in approaching them, even as Maple stopped and staggered back a step, letting out a hiss in warning.

“Sir,” she said, grabbing at the latigo of his saddle, “I see your rank, Sir, please.”

“Ma’am?” Wyatt asked, reaching forward to calm Maple by stroking her neck. The last thing he needed having just arrived on the island was to be responsible for a civilian getting bit.

“My allotment, Sir,” she pleaded, “we never got it.”

“Oi!” A soldier who was guarding the line noticed that the woman had stopped Wyatt in the street and began to run over. “Back away!”

“Sir, please,” the woman begged. “They won’t listen.”

“Where is your employer?” Wyatt asked.

“Gone,” she said, releasing the latigo to pat Maple on the shoulder. “He took one of the first ships out. ”

“Back away from the officer!” the soldier shouted.

The woman ignored him as best she could as he approached, and several other people inched closer to see what was happening. “None of us ever got the dominions. So many of us haven’t.”

Wyatt looked back at Carter and gestured to the soldier that was running at them. “Stop him.” Then he leaned forward to speak more closely to the woman. “So many of who, Miss?” The woman sidestepped the soldier who tried to grab her as Carter ordered him to back off, and Wyatt asked, “Your employer didn’t distribute any of that allotment?”

“None of the employers have,” she said, and side-glanced at the soldier before looking at the other people who’d gathered around. “We’ve tried to tell them.”

Several of the others nodded their agreement.

Wyatt asked the soldier, “Is that right?”

The soldier shrugged. “It’s their word against their employers’, Sir. Major Ludo said he’d look into it.”

“But it’s true!” the woman exclaimed. She snatched Wyatt’s forearm in her grip as angry murmurs of agreement echoed around the growing crowd. “We only want to leave the island. We only want to live!”

He maneuvered his arm out of her grasp as politely as he could. “I’ll see what I can find out, alright?”

She sighed and nodded, and most of the other onlookers waved him off and mumbled to themselves as they walked away. There wasn’t anything else he could say or do about it at that moment, and so he urged Maple onward.

“Do you think it’s true?” Carter asked.

“That employers didn’t distribute the allotment?” he asked, and Carter mumbled an affirmation. He considered it for a moment, and that consideration made his jaw clench as he sighed. “I don’t see why else those people wouldn’t be trying to get on a ship if they’d been given the dominions to do so.”

“I suppose,” Carter agreed. “Unless a hundred dominions wasn’t enough, and they are trying to get more.” He paused and then shook his head. “What have we gotten ourselves into, Wyatt?”

“I don’t know,” Wyatt murmured, but though he didn’t say it out loud for fear of anyone else overhearing, a part of him thought that if a hundred dominions wasn’t enough, then the people should’ve been given more. Whatever amount it took, they should’ve been given it. That would’ve been the right thing to do after only giving them six months to prepare.

But they hadn’t been given more, and the scene along the main road was the same until they left town – empty and boarded buildings, listless people who couldn’t afford passage and didn’t have work with the employers gone. It was almost a relief to leave the misery of town and reach the rural part of the road, which they took all the way to the forest and to the mines, until they reached the perimeter of the mining camp. And, somehow, it was worse at the mines than it was in town.

Hundreds of people crowded the perimeter even though they couldn’t see over the eight-foot wall that Alters must’ve crafted out of compressed dirt and stone from the mining process. Most of the people were shouting angry, vulgar things up at the soldiers, who were standing on dirt platforms behind the wall and looking down at them. And while others stood quietly at the back of the crowd or sat around the outskirts just to watch, the tension among them was greater than those who were yelling. It was like they were conserving their energy. Waiting for something worthwhile to happen so they could finally lash out. And the way that so many of them slowly rose to their feet as Wyatt and Carter neared made his blood run cold.

He tensed for danger as soldiers yelled about their arrival and an Alter hurried to the arched opening in the wall. She pulled stone shrapnel from the ground and whirled it around her as she moved forward past the opening, and all the civilians rushed backward away from the deadly whirlwind, clearing a path for them to ride through. The Alter dropped the shrapnel so soldiers could come out and keep the crowd at bay until they were all on the other side and safe, and then the soldiers retreated, and people flooded back into the path. Wyatt exhaled as that Alter in her emerald uniform tunic and charcoal pants came forward to greet them.

“You should arrive around the back next time,” she told them, “or fly.” As Wyatt dismounted, she caught his rank, and her hand shot to her forehead in a salute as she added, “Admiral.”

“Noted,” Wyatt said, but his attention was entirely pulled toward the mines.

He’d never been to an island that was being harvested. He knew that miners removed earth in a fifty-yard circle until they reached the heart of the island, building descending platforms around the perimeter to get to it, but he’d never seen it himself. He strode to the fenced edge of the massive hole to peer into it, following the long lines of the pully and crane system at the center over half a mile down to the heart.

It was too dark for him to see much more than the lanterns providing light for the miners at the heart, but the pulley system was bringing up a load of mineral as they’d arrived. The ropes shifted as a large pallet full of bricks of mineral – upside down, of course, to keep the mineral from rising away from it – was hoisted out of the mines until it hovered in the air above them. Then the gears on the crane were turned, rotating the pallet away from the mine and to the side, where there was a giant vat of molten mineral and an Alter waiting for the addition. The Alter used his magic to heat the fresh mineral once the pallet hovered directly above the vat, until it was in its molten state and absent of anti-gravity properties, and it splashed into the vat with the rest, where it would cool slowly and only need to be reheated occasionally to keep it melted.

“Impressive, isn’t it, Sir?” the Alter who’d brought them in asked.

“Indeed,” he answered. “Are you in charge?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said. “A-Captain Thompson, at your service.”

“I’m here to be at yours,” he told her, and glanced around the camp. “Though, it looks like you’ve got everything under control. Having your Alters build a wall with the mined earth was smart.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” she said. “I’m not sure we need anything just yet. More people arrive to protest here every day, but the wall is holding up.” She paused, turned to look behind her, and then looked back at him. “There is one thing, actually.” She turned again and gestured for them to follow, explaining as she led the way farther into camp. “We arrested six men who were taking pickaxes to the wall to try and bring it down. We’ve had them since yesterday, but I haven’t requested a transport because Major Ludo said the contract ship was full. I’m not sure what to do with them.” They reached a wheeled jail cart where the men were all crowded in together. “Doesn’t seem right to keep all six of them in there much longer.”

“I agree,” he said.

“Take us to the ship!” one of the men shouted at them.

“Or we’ll tear down your wall!” yelled another.

“I told you the ship’s full,” Thompson said.

Wyatt sighed. While he didn’t agree with Ludo wanting to drop people, it was clear then that some really were trying to get arrested simply to get off the island. But if they couldn’t arrest people for the contract ship, and they couldn’t just let civilians get away with doing anything they wanted, then what could he do?

His eyes wandered from the wall to Thompson, and then back again, and then he asked loud enough for each of the six men to hear, “Could your Alters build a more permanent structure for imprisonment just like they built the wall? We’ll have to start using the jail in town as well.”

Each of the six men stood and crowded to the front of the cart, listening intently.

“I don’t see why not,” Thompson answered. “Though, we’ll have to request more rations if we’ll be keeping prisoners here.”

“Wait!” one of the men called.

“You’re supposed to put us on the ship!” another pleaded.

Wyatt strode over to them, and though his heart ached for their circumstance, he had a job to do. “The ship is full, like she said, and the sponsor won’t be sending another.”

“So then send us to prison on another island!”

One of the other guys muttered, “That would mean they gave a shit what happens to us.”

“So, what?” another said. “You’re just going to lock us in a cell here until the island falls, and not give us another chance to get off on our own?”

“No.” Wyatt shook his head. “I’m willing to free you this once because you didn’t know the ship was full. But hear this — we can’t continue to make exceptions at the cost of peace and order, do you understand? The Alters will be building a prison, and this mercy cannot be constant.” None of them nodded, but he was sure they understood, so he turned back to Thompson. “Let them out and have your Alters build a prison wherever you think best.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said. She gestured to a few nearby soldiers, and they hurried over as she strode to the cart and unlocked the gate. “Escort these men out,” she told the soldiers. “They’re free to go.” And to the men she said, “Tell everyone you know that the ship is full.”

The soldiers did as she instructed, guiding the men out of the cart and toward the entrance in the wall. But as they passed by Wyatt, one of the men stopped.

“It’s not right, you know,” he said, looking Wyatt directly in the eyes. “Six months. It’s not fair.” Wyatt stared back at the bridge of his nose until he sighed, looked down, and followed after the others, mumbling, “It’s not right. ”

And though Wyatt couldn’t say it aloud, there wasn’t a single part of him that disagreed.