“This is bullshit, man. I thought you said every soul was free to come and go as they please.”
“Every verified soul. Those who are vetted.”
“This is fucking bullshit.”
I looked to Bern for support, but he was distracted, staring at a shanty across the way, against the outer wall.
“Bern, what’s wrong?”
“I thought I saw … nah, it couldn’t be … my mind is playing tricks on me, I fear. You know how when you’re looking for someone in a crowd, you see people who from the back, remind you of them until they turn to face you?”
“See who?”
“Ah, forget it. It couldn’t have been….”
A young woman with golden hair done up in braids emerged from a hut, wielding a broom.
“Lille!” he shouted. “Oh my God, it’s really her! It’s Lille!”
Chapter 21: Intervention
Karla awoke, not in a cold, dank meadow as she expected, but in a sunlit bungalow under the covers of Jessica’s bed. Isobel sat cross-legged beside her, her nose buried deep in a Jodi Picoult novel.
Izzie’s eyes went wide. She clapped the book shut. “Jess! She’s back!”
Jessica bounded in from the porch with the wash she had gathered from the line. “Oh hon, I was so worried. You’ve been writhing and moaning ever since we brought you in. I wanted to call the doctor. Are you okay?”
Karla felt disjointed and jittery, the way she always did after a visitation from Root. She had once made an art of diving straight back into life without a hitch in her demeanor, but it had been so long. She was out of practice.
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice hoarse and breathy.
“Can I fetch you some juice or something? You must be starved. I can make you some scrambled eggs or something? Some jam on toast, perhaps?”
“I’m not that hungry,” she said. “But thank you for offering. What time is it?”
“It’s almost one in afternoon. Tuesday, in case you were wondering. We’re just on our lunch break. You’ve been unconscious for hours and hours. I insisted on summoning an ambulance but Izzie tells me this is normal for you. Is that possible?”
“Yeah,” said Karla. “It happens.” Somehow, not all of her had returned yet. She could still sense James’ presence beside her. She wanted to go back and be with him. The interface remained close. She could feel it. She only needed to seize it and slip back into the Liminality. But before she could act, it receded from her senses like a ferry pulling away from a pier.
She slumped back against the pillows and sighed. “You know, maybe some water would be nice,” she croaked.
Isobel squirmed over and pecked her on the cheek. She kneaded her shoulder affectionately.
“You were so cold, La, when we found you in that field. Why didn’t you just come here if you knew you were going to pass out?”
“I think better out on the moors,” she said, in a low voice. “I honestly didn’t expect to be visited. It had been so long.”
“Did you get to see James?” said Izzie. “And Lille and Bern?”
“I did,” Karla whispered back. “All except for Lille, anyhow.”
Jessica, filling a water glass from the tap, overheard. “You saw James?”
“Oh … uh … we were talking about … in my dreams.”
“You don’t have to pretend, La,” said Isobel. “I told Jess all there is to know about Root.”
“Oh? And did she buy it? Did she believe your nonsense?”
Jessica brought over with a glass of water. “Though, it does seem highly improbable and fantastical …” she said. “And I suppose it could be shared hallucinations. But maybe not. Who am I to say it doesn’t exist exactly as you say?”
Karla could tell from the expression on Jessica’s face that she was sincerely open to the possibility, that she wasn’t just saying stuff to humor them.
“Someone like you would never have to worry about a visitation. You’re always so positive.”
“Don’t let appearances deceive you,” said Jessica, sitting down in a rickety antique chair beside the bed. “I get depressed, and pretty often too. It can get bloody lonely in this bungalow.”
“Yes, but …. I don’t mean to belittle your feelings, but … to get to Root … it requires a whole different order of depression. I hate to say, but I am talking truly suicidal. It takes a commitment … to death. In a sense, it is like a wedding engagement.”
Jessica’s face softened into a placid sea. “Believe me, there have been times I …” She took a long, deep breath. Her mouth hung open, stuck on a word. “Oh, never mind. Tell me, how is James? Did he tell you what happened?”
“He is not doing so well,” said Karla. “He has been taken hostage by my father. He is being beaten.”
“Oh my! By whom? Where?”
“He does not know where they have taken him, but there are not many Sedevacantist churches in Scotland. I think it has to be either Glasgow or Inverness. I don’t think he can be in Edinburgh. Papa does not get along with the pastor there. Aberdeen is a possibility. It is remote and secure, but that one is not much more than a chapel.”
“Is he … okay?”
“He did not give me many details, but he says he had been badly hurt. He is in pain.”
“That’s it! We need to go rescue him, La,” said Izzie.
Karla shook her head. “Yes, but how? We don’t even know where to go. And even if we did, how would we get close enough to help him? Papa’s people are looking for us. We would be recognized. Especially in Inverness.”
“Maybe I should be the one to go,” said Jessica. “They don’t know me.”
“Oh, no! That would be too much to ask. We have no right to get you tangled in this.”
“James is my friend, too. If he’s in trouble, the least I can do is try and help him. Maybe I can pose as a parishioner or something.”
“I don’t even know where to send you.”
“Let me start with Glasgow. That’s where he was headed. It’s closer than those other places you mentioned. All I need is to ask Renfrew for a few days off. He doesn’t dare say no. I never take time away. He owes me.”
“We can fill in for you, here!” said Izzie. “For you and for James. Ren was impressed by our work He even said so. He said even the goats like me better.”
“No, I can’t let you go on your own,” said Karla. “Papa’s friends are the nastiest people. I would fear for your life.”
“I can take care of myself. I’m tough. Besides, all I need to do is locate him. Once I do, I can bring in the authorities.”
“You’ll have to keep in close contact with us. I would go crazy not knowing what is happening.”
“I’ll text Helen every hour. You’ll know my every move.”
Karla’s stomach churned at the idea of staying behind in Brynmawr, while she risked her skin up north, but she couldn’t deny that Jessica’s plan made more sense than hers. It didn’t mean that she liked it.
“Are you sure Mr. Renfrew would approve of this arrangement?”
“Well, Ren’s a bit befuddled by this tag team approach, but he’ll get over it once he figures out how to pay you. At least he’s stopped bitching about you two never filling out a job application.”
“Not to mention, I’m underage,” said Isobel.
“Shush,” said Jessica. “He doesn’t have to know that part. I told him you were fifteen. You certainly pass for older, as far as looks go, anyhow.”
“Hey, what is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me immature?”
“How soon can you go?” said Karla.
Jessica shrugged. “I don’t see why I couldn’t leave tomorrow morning. I’ll go see Ren right now. Maybe he or Helen can give me a ride to the train station in Abergavenny.”
Karla squinted away tears and fought the sniffles. She slipped off the bed and gave Jessica a hug, nuzzling her face against her shoulder. “You have been such a wonderful friend to James. We are so lucky
to find such good people here.”
Jessica blushed. Her posture stiffened. “Well, it’s the least I can do for the poor fellow.”
“Ahem,” said Isobel. “But Jess, my dear, there is no way we can let you go up there dressed like that.” She screwed her face at her baggy shorts and spaghetti-strapped blouse revealing what passed for cleavage.
“Like what?”
“Like a floozy,” said Isobel. “Like a Jezebel.”
“Excuse me?” she said, with umbrage. “But I’m not wearing anything extreme. It’s just work wear. If I’m traveling I would definitely wear some slacks or jeans. And perhaps a sweater over my blouse.”
Isobel’s eyes met Karla’s. They smiled to each other.
“You have a lot to learn about Sedevacantists, Jess. But don’t worry. Izzie and I will give you a crash course. We’ll have you looking and acting like a cultist in no time.”
Chapter 22: The Debriefing
The woman with the broom looked far too young and lithe to be Lille, but when she caught sight of Bern, she staggered as if a brick had struck her in the chest, before flinging the broom aside. She sprinted across the parade ground with the loose-limbed abandon of a teenager.
“Bern? James? Oh my God!”
She pulled up, startled by the tangle of roots anchoring Bern’s good leg to the ground. Fat tears beaded up and rolled down her youthful cheeks. Bern gawked back at her, stunned into further immobility.
Lille could have passed for her own daughter. Her eyes had come forward from their deep sockets and their corners had shed any signs of crow’s feet. The roots of her graying hair had gone back to the honey-blonde of her twenties.
Taut skin and faceted cheekbones replaced the slightly sagging jowls that had made her look almost grandmotherly. But her face looked far more natural than anything plastic surgery could have created.
She swooped in and embraced his head, plastering him with kisses. Master Felix and the soldier looked on, startled, but permissive.
“I thought you were a goner for you. Weeks, they’ve been hunting for you. I’ve been begging them to let me come along on their patrols.”
Bern, shocked into breathlessness, finally re-gathered his capacity for speech. “What happened to your face?”
“Happened? You old fool; you make it sound like I was punched in the nose.”
“But why? You were fine the way you were.”
“Why? Because I could. That’s why. We’re in this for eternity, Bern. We might as well go forth in an optimal body. No? Ah, your poor leg! I can see it’s bothering you again. But don’t you worry. They can make it as good as new. The Weavers here are masterful. Flesh is putty in their hands. You wouldn’t believe their skill! They make Luther’s work seem like a kindergartner’s.”
Lille came over to me, gripped my shoulders, looked me in the eyes and pecked me on the cheek. I had always found Lille pretty in a matronly way, but her recovered youth made her beauty startling.
“And how is Karla? Have you seen her?”
“Okay,” I said. “She was with us, but she got yanked back.”
Lille glanced down at the roots binding me and Bern. “Master Felix, why are you treating my boys like criminals?”
Bern cleared his throat. “Well, technically, I am—”
“Quiet, you!” Lille elbowed Bern.
“It’s just a precaution,” said Master Felix. “They haven’t been vetted. And they were found with a female Duster.”
“A female?” Lille scrunched her brow. “Doing what?”
“Oh, please.”
“I’m just curious.”
“She was injured. James wanted to help her.”
“Oh. That’s … nice of you.” She turned to Master Felix. “So because he decided to be humane, you’re … restraining him?”
“It’s not that. Koontz, the debriefer, he’s a worrywart. It’s for his sense of well-being. He hates coming between the walls.”
“Well perhaps he should find another occupation.”
“Perhaps,” said Master Felix.
“Don’t worry guys. I’ll put in a good word for you. Alec will clear you. He already knows about the both of you. I’ve pestering him to send search parties after you all.”
“Who’s Alec?” said Bern.
“He’s my mentor, and he’s won-der-ful. I can’t wait for you to meet him.” She slid up the sleeve of her blouse to reveal the raised C of a Hemisoul. “Once you’re vetted you’ll get one of these. On top of that, he has me on the fast track to becoming a Freesoul. He’s even looking into contracting an assassin on the other side.”
“Assassin?” said Bern. “What in bloody hell are you talking about?”
“It’s how you become a Freesoul. We go up to the glaciers where the influence of the Core is weakest, and we have our ties cut—on the other side. In my case, we don’t exactly need a ninja to accomplish the task, just someone to pull the plug of my respirator.”
“I’m not sure I like what I’m hearing,” said Bern.
“Oh Bern, I know it’s probably too much, too fast coming at you. Me and my big mouth. I should have just let you all adjust to your new surroundings. It was even a bit startling to me, at first.”
“How long have you been up here?”
“Weeks. Ever since the day the Duster’s destroyed the cabin. I was lucky. A patrol found me that very same night. I begged them to search for you, Bern, but they had to return to Frelsi. They don’t like to be out on the plains in the daylight, as you might appreciate. So here I’ve been ever since, whiling away the time.”
“What kind of hovel are you living in now?” said Bern, looking over at her ramshackle shack.
Lille blushed. “Yes, well … it’s not much to look at, is it? Well, it’s only temporary, as is every domicile between the walls. No sense putting up anything elaborate, the way we Hemis come and go.”
“You should have a decent place to lay your head.”
“How sweet of you, Bern. Always building me dream cottages. But there’s really no call for it. We don’t intend to stay here very long, do we? I mean the whole point of coming here is to free our souls, yes?”
“We’ll see about that,” Bern muttered.
“I do wish I could invite you all in for some tea. Oh, I know! I can bring it here. This table seems decent enough. How about you Master Felix? Can I interest you in a cuppa?”
“Um, not for me, thank you.”
Lille looked to the soldier. He shook his head as well.
“Very well. A service for three. I’ll be right back, and I can fill you in on all that’s been going on. Frelsi is quite the most fascinating place. Oh, I’m so excited that we’re reunited!” She pinched Bern’s cheeks and kissed him on the lips. “I can’t wait to see what they can do with that grizzled old mug of yours! And your leg! You poor thing. It’s still bothering you, I see. But don’t you worry. They’ll have it better than new in a jiff.”
She bustled away back towards her hut.
Bern and I looked at each other.
“My God,” he said. “What have they done to my Lille? She’s got the energy of a toddler.”
***
Lille bustled back with a steaming pot on a tray with three, bone-white cups. She beamed at us, revealing teeth whiter teeth and gum pinker than on the Lille I knew before. The flesh Weavers of Frelsi were certainly thorough.
“Whenever is Koontz going to get here?” said Lille. “I can’t stand seeing my boys anchored to the ground.”
“Patience. He’s on his way,” said Master Felix.
She poured us each a cup of black tea potent with caffeine and rich with color, unlike the clear but flavorful brews she had served us in the tunnels.
“Ah, no one brews a cup as good as yours, Lille,” said Bern.
“This is the real thing, believe it or not. Actual leaves, cured and processed right here on the mountainside.”
“Amazing,” I said. “Where the heck did they find—?”
<
br /> “Oh, it’s engineered,” said Lille. “They can take any plant and turn it into another. They’re even creating Reapers that can fly.”
“Oh hell, that’s all we need,” said Bern.
“Well, they’ve got to stay ahead of the Dusters somehow. Those flying bugs of theirs, that’s their main advantage.”
Bern had a wistful expression. “You know Lille, every day I went looking for you on the plains,” said Bern. “Every single day since those bug riders attacked.”
“I would have expected no less from you, Bern.” Lille cupped her hand over his. Even her hands looked younger, each finger rounded and smooth, clashing with the puckered skin and age spots that marred Bern’s hand.
“The Dusters dropped me from a height that no person has a right to fall and survive. I hurt my back very badly and was knocked unconscious. Luckily, some nice people waiting for an escort observed the whole thing and rescued me. I was halfway up the mountain before I regained consciousness, I begged them to go back and look for you. They couldn’t, obviously. I have to say, I feared the worst for you, Bern.”
Bern teared up and sighed. “The same here. I was building a memorial cairn for you. But I never gave up looking, hoping.
A small, lithe Reaper galloped onto the parade ground, its body elevated above eight cantilevered legs. It carried no decking, just a saddle mounted by a single rider. Sacks and crates were lashed on both sides.
It trotted up to the edge of the trench holding the larger Reapers and bleated at them, prompting a chorus of groans in response. Its rider slid off the saddle and unloaded his cargo onto a wheelbarrow.
One sack, he pulled aside and tossed next to the trench of Reapers. Something thrashed and grunted beneath the mesh when it hit the ground.
“Oh my God!” I said, craning my neck. “I think that’s Urszula!”
“Who?” said Lille.
“She’s the Duster gal we rescued,” said Bern.
“Really?” Lille wrinkled her nose.
Two men emerged from one of the alleys, their bright, fanciful clothing contrasting with the bland, functional apparel of the Hemis. One man had reddish, blonde hair that stood nearly vertical above his forehead. The other man had a mane of black curls, each too regular and perfect to be natural.
“Ah, here he comes, finally,” said Master Alex.