Page 7 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

The Dead Twins

O ur journey westward consists of riding, stopping to feed and water our horses, Tiny and Lux, and finding suitable groves to pick berries or apples or capture unfortunate creatures for our sustenance.

Already, Leaf has begged me to ride with him twice, asked me to enroll in the Watch three times, and is on his fourth recount of various near-death situations he and Castor managed to find themselves in. Potential future Telling material , as he so enthusiastically explained.

I’m flattered that they want me to enroll, though I’m the last person an Academy known for producing the most lethal human magic channelers would want.

Castor assured me that they are looking for new recruits, that you don’t need any experience before enrolling.

Leaf offered to start teaching me lessons too, but I turned him down, still not sure where my path leads next.

Just as the midday sun rises to its peak, the mood shifts. Posture alert. Weapons at the ready. Wind whistles in clashing harmonies through the pine trees and across the small clearing where we now trot. Tendrils of my dark hair whip free from my braid, tickling Castor, who sits closely behind me.

Even Leaf bears a grim expression and expertly draws a large wooden bow before urging Tiny off the path and into the forest. Castor pulls on Lux’s reins to follow, then rests his arms back on my thighs. I ignore the way my entire being seems to center on the two points of contact.

“Why are we heading off the road?” I ask Castor over my shoulder.

“You see that river up there?” He points straight ahead through the trees and back toward the clearing.

I nod. Sure enough, in the distance, glimmering speckles of sunlight dance off the rushing current.

“Just beyond that river is one of the Dead Twins.”

My heart starts to race. “ Oh Goddess, ” I whisper, suddenly understanding of their sense of foreboding earlier.

The Dead Twins are ancient cities, a relic from the Old World before the Breaking.

According to the Tellings, their stone and glass ruins stretch high into the sky until they abruptly end in broken edges.

“Keep yourself on alert, Akemi. Many nomads stay near ancient ruins like these. They feed off of weary travelers, sell dangerous weapons or poisons, trick you into fighting rings, never good things…”

Castor’s arm wraps around my waist protectively. I lean backward into his hard torso.

We ride through the small glade quietly, zigging and zagging through the trees as the daunting outline of the Dead Twins grows larger.

I am horrified yet oddly transfixed as we near the ruins.

Buildings jut out from the earth, towering straight up to the wispy clouds, while others lean at an angle, as if they could fall at any moment and join the other crumbled structures already broken on the ground.

The earth itself seems to rebel against the ruins, attempting to pull the ancient city back into its depths with sprawling vines and tall weeds.

We make it past the first Dead Twin with our slow and steady pace. Keeping far from the main road, away from prying eyes. Within the hour, Leaf shares that we are nearing the second Dead Twin, the larger ruins of the two.

We approach a white stone tower with a small stable at the base, a WatchTower for stationed Watchers to protect this area.

It sits along an open field, more mud than grass.

I gape at the cylindrical tower that stretches into the sky on the eastern side of the building.

The top of the tower is complete with slit windows and a turret.

To my surprise, Castor and Leaf lead the horses straight in. “Shouldn’t we knock first or something?”

“Nah. This is the WatchTower for the Dead Twins. So, practically home. WatchGuards are stationed here regularly to keep the surrounding towns safe. Best let the horses rest for a moment before passing the next city.” Leaf leads Tiny into a stall.

“They both get a little nervous whenever we pass through here.”

“Safe to say I feel the same way. This place is creepy.” I cross my arms, hugging myself and instinctively grabbing my necklace.

Castor hands me the reins to Lux and takes off up the tower, muttering about too quiet. Leaf and I lead the horses into the stables.

We begin filling buckets of water from a rusty pipe in the corner for the trough. Lux and Tiny, though still fidgety, are visibly relieved at the sight of fresh water.

Leaf starts brushing Tiny affectionately. “Once we get past this sun-burned place, we can splurge on a Tavern stay. I’m going to need a good bath soon. There is an Inn that’s really—”

Castor jumps down from the last five steps of the tower’s winding staircase. “Where are the Watchers? There is supposed to be a full patrol here!”

The hair on the back of my neck rises. I have been too caught up in gawking at this place that I didn’t really see it. The stables are abandoned. No other animals, no stablehands. Above us, dust and cobwebs collect on the rafters, like no one has been here for weeks.

“Something is off about this place.” Leaf’s voice falls flat into the silence that envelops the room.

Large piles of hay are stacked at random against the walls. Shuffling in a slow circle, I scan the room until I’m staring at a large pile of hay right behind me.

And it is staring back.

Just as I scream, dozens of people jump out of the haystacks. Their dirty faces are gaunt, clothing ragged, and eyes full of hunger.

“Nomads!” Castor yells and pulls out his dual blades from behind his back.

In an instant, the room is circled with white fog and flashes of light. The Watchers channel the Source like it’s a second language.

Fear freezes my body in place, but my mind races, trying to muster up a plan or convince myself with the courage to act, to help.

Anything.

My dagger!

I hastily reach down into my boot and pull out the dagger Bane gifted to me. A bald, gangly nomad runs right at me, eyes blown feverishly. The blade trembles in my hand.

The nomad’s eyes flick down to the dagger. Slight surprise flashes underneath layers of dirt and grime, but he does not slow down.

“Please. We are so hungry. Help us!” the nomad begs.

“Watchers!” another cries.

“They are here to help us!” a third destitute-looking nomad chimes in, shoulder hanging oddly at his side.

A woman with stern eyes and sunken cheeks steps forward. “We will take anything you offer. Please. Rations stopped coming months ago, and winter is coming.” She pats a bundle at her waist.

No. Not a bundle.

A child.

“Leaf! Castor! Stop!” I yell. The flashes of light stop, and Castor pulls in the misty white fog of his magic back into himself.

The nomads close in, reaching for me, desperation and starvation fevering their eyes.

Why live here and not out in one of the smaller villages?

Surely other places would take them in. Then I recall my own struggles, hopping from town to town, always working or hunting for my next meal.

Maybe this is all they know. I, least of all, shouldn’t be so quick to judge.

I put my hands up in front of me as more nomads begin to circle tighter. I would be lying if I said they didn’t frighten me. Castor and Leaf join by my side.

“Grab the dried meat,” I whisper to Leaf.

“But—” he starts to object.

“Look at them, Leaf. They are starving,” I whisper then turn to Castor. “Aren’t the WatchGuards supposed to be delivering rations?” I say more forcefully than I intended.

Leaf hands me the satchel of dried meats and berries.

I hold out the bag, and two larger men in ragged clothing lurch forward, shoving one another. “This is all we have. Please, take this.”

“Harven and Raven, stop this instance!” An older woman steps forward, arms crossed in front of her tattered robe. An authority figure amongst the nomads by the way the crowd parts for her. The men stop fighting, heads turned down in shame.

The woman steps forward, and I hand her the bag of supplies.

“Thank you,” she says, accepting the satchel.

“We are headed to the Watch. We will inform the Elders that rations have been skipped in your area,” Castor says.

She laughs somewhat eerily. “Sure, son. We will believe it when we see it. Thank you again for your generosity, but I would advise you to leave here before nightfall. Others aren’t too keen on visitors.” She glares at the men behind me. “Especially Watchers .”

Leaf keeps his arm locked in mine as we leave the WatchTower and mount our horses.

I cannot believe that they are just left there, starving. What is the Watch doing about it? Just because they are considered nomads, free from community protections, doesn’t mean that they don’t deserve to eat.

Castor pulls himself atop Lux in a single fluid movement. “If we ride fast, we can get to Redrock by nightfall.”

Leaf loosens his grasp on my arm, but I squeeze him tighter, clinging to his warmth and support. He hoists me up on Tiny then settles behind me before racing away from the WatchTower. If he wasn’t holding me, I think I would untether and unwind into the sky until I join the stars.

My life has changed so much in the past few days. It’s almost too much to bear. What if becoming a nomad is what’s in store for me? No home. No place to go. I feel the wetness on my cheeks before I realize that I am crying. Mostly for those starving nomads.

But a little for me too.

After a while of riding in silence, Leaf begins to hum short and sweet little anecdotes. His music is a tether to my consciousness, allowing me to slowly return to myself.

I had always ridden with Castor, which felt safe, but not as warm and comfortable as when I am with Leaf. I can’t help but compare the same familial comfort I have with Leaf as I did with Row or Bane. He just seems to understand my needs without explanation.

We ride west past more rolling Midland forests and small farming communities until the sun is low in the sky and the earth begins to flatten out across the expansive Grass Plains.

“What have you been singing?” I finally ask Leaf as he finishes another song in my ear. Almost eerie tunes that conclude differently than traditional hymns I have studied.

“Just some lullabies from when I was younger.”

“They are beautiful. I’ve never heard anything like them. Thank you for sharing them with me.”

“Always.” He squeezes my waist a few times. And I let myself smile, the feeling foreign.

“Akemi,” Leaf begins, “I know it was hard for you back there. To see the state of the nomads. Do you want to talk about it?”

Years flash before my eyes in seconds. Living in the woods.

Pandering for food off the streets. Working hard labor for a month only to receive a single copper coin.

“It’s just hard to see folks living that way.

Brings me to a dark place. If it weren’t for Rosie taking me in…

I would have been just like them. I was trapped, spending the majority of my childhood in a cycle of just trying to survive.

I was so alone.” I whisper that last part.

Leaf takes in a slow breath. “While I cannot claim to know how you feel, I too was trapped in a cycle growing up. One not of poverty, but of another kind that stole my freedom. Though my family had resources aplenty, it was… not a loving household. That’s why I joined the Watch.”

We ride silently for a while, letting our truths absorb into the gentle swaying of the horse.

Castor pulls Lux closer to Tiny. “We are nearing Redrock. We can make camp—”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Leaf shimmies so violently behind me that I almost fall off the horse.

“Tonight, we are going to stay at an Inn in Redrock. I insist.” Leaf pats the chest pocket of his clock, jingling the coins within.

“I'm not sure if you’ve seen yourself lately, but we are definitely in need of hot food and a proper bath.”

Castor grunts. “You’re paying then.”

“Deal.”