Out of Exodia Read Online Free PDF Page B

The outer wings are comprised of the Mourners,
a group of older men, and a surprising number of well-armed teens.
Mira has come with six specially chosen young women, ready to dance
an exotic distraction to our advantage. The young man who helped
her with her sled, I’ve learned his name is Josh, follows her with
a contingent of equally muscular companions. Harmon’s rod is in my
left hand, but Harmon has stayed behind with the mothers, children,
and hundreds of Red men who would have accompanied us, but who
would better serve our purposes by defending the twelve
springs.
    We follow the smell of horse and sweat
and freshly mauled earth as well as the signs of broken limbs and
hoof prints. We hear nothing for the first hour, but as it gets
darker I finally detect the curiously faint clues that tell me
we’re close. I poke the rod out to my left, lightly touching two
men, and hold my other arm against the chest of the man at my right
side. In a fan-like choreography the next person on either side
does the same, stops, and holds his fellow marcher back from going
more than one step further. Our lights wave onward to the last men
on the outsides. The second line is just as curved as the front
line. If our prey is half a mile ahead as I suspect then we’ve
already begun to surround them.
    “ They’re hidden up ahead,”
I say. “Maybe ten minutes more.” If they knew of Barrett’s unique
ability perhaps they’ll trust that I can hear what they cannot.
Whispers pass my message down both sides. The lights waver in the
hands of each one as lips move, heads nod, anxious fighters prepare
their weapons. I take a deeper breath and let it out my nose. I’m
afraid that if these angry people charge they’ll endanger Lydia.
They’re spoiling for a fight. A few days ago they ran in fear of
Truslow’s army, but now they believe themselves equal to any other
group like Bluezools or resistance fighters or secret towns of the
non-tattooed.
    “ I’m going in alone,” I
say. I pass my light to the man behind me and step forward,
swinging the rod up and out in front of me. Those closest to me
hear and stay rooted to the ground. I’m more than a little
surprised at their obedience. There’s movement down the lines, but
though they couldn’t hear my command they guess my intention and no
one follows.
    I count my steps to keep an idea of how
far behind me my help is. The yards mount up and I stop at a
thousand. A quick glance back reveals a stunning sight. The Reds
are holding their lights high, as if they are mounted on horseback.
The clouds part and moonbeams whitewash the rocks between us.
Shadows dart, visible but ghostly beneath the flickering lamps,
their edges blurred.
    * * *
    Lydia was dumped at the entrance to an
underground city. Bruised and in minor pain, she lay against the
concrete barriers and watched as her captors released their horses
into a strange corral. The fencing was hidden neatly behind closely
planted trees and was covered in vines. It looked more like a dense
forest than a shelter for animals.
    In the fading light she scanned the
faces of the men who had exchanged their threatening attack for a
panicked retreat the instant their leader was slain. Their clothing
was tattered and they wore their beards longer than did the men of
Exodia. They spoke in clipped words and there were whole phrases
that held not a single word of English. She understood enough,
though. Two men, the one who had carried her off and the other
scout, parked themselves beside the barriers and made it clear that
she was not to run away. She didn’t think she could anyway. In
addition to the physical pain, her fear of what these strangers
could do to her had her in a frozen panic. She’d grown up in the
Red slum, a slave to the cultural caste system, and even though
she’d run freedom missions with Barrett and secretly spied for
Teague she was now experiencing a crushing loss of
control.
    She pulled her legs in and pushed her
body higher