Guardian of the Vale

Prologue

When Continental Media reported over a thousand students missing from Clayborne Training Facility, the outcry was less than might have been expected. While there was shock and horror in the homes of the Elementals and the Naturals whose teen children attended the school, the Elemental Alliance largely hushed the matter. Representatives from the Alliance, in typical fashion, entrenched their moles into media outlets and news sources, so that when Continental Media reported the events, what amounted to state-sanctioned kidnapping was reduced to students being detained in holding stations and Alliance outposts for safety until the struggle between the Naturals and the Elemental Alliance could be resolved.

In only weeks, this struggle stretched society's hinges. Elementals and Naturals no longer peacefully coexisted. The Elemental Alliance espoused a mob mentality that raised Elementals superior to Naturals. Elementals, with their ability to wield the four foundational elements—air, fire, earth, or water—commanded a certain form of power that Naturals, who had no such ability, could not. The EA claimed that the Naturals’ existence risked diluting the Elementals’ power through miscegenation—muddying the race, so to speak.

So, Naturals fell prey to the strong wave of dislike and disgust engendered by the Elemental Alliance's strong influence in society.

Following the disappearance of Clayborne's students, no outcry reached the steps of the High Court in the Capital. Few news stories spilled from Media Imaging Units, or MIUs, across the Continent, and fewer efforts were made by the Continental Guard to recover the teens—the military leaders instead hiding behind the Elemental Alliance's explanations.

While it was perhaps strange that no parents stormed the High Court or rioted in the streets as a result of Chadwick Jones's nasal-sounding reports, even stranger was the slow and steady disappearance of these same parents and families, like the steady drip of a faucet: one family gone, and then another and another, until, like the ever-widening ripples that spread from a rock tossed in an enormous pond, the waves of shock dissipated into a dull and terrifying silence. Any family that contained or even just supported Naturals vanished.

What Chadwick Jones and his team at Continental Media failed to report—although every individual in the higher rankings within the Elemental Alliance knew of their existence—was the absence of twenty-four.

Twenty-four students from Clayborne Training Facility had failed to enter the Elemental Alliance's butterfly net when they'd swept the students into their shuttles during school exams, and twenty-four students created many sleepless nights for the top leaders of the Elemental Alliance, including Tarry Shane Beckyr, head of the organization, and Simeon Malachi and Beatrice Pence, her seconds-in-command.

Posters appeared on MIUs; Wanted, Reward Offered emblazoned the top of the picture.

But the posters only pictured one face out of the missing twenty-four students. Only one picture made its way into the highways and byways of City Centres across the Continent.

Her honey-gold hair and wide green eyes blinked from the MIUs; a long, heavy braid lay over one shoulder.

The words beneath every image said the same thing: Alayne Worth, Quadriweave.

Chapter 1

Afriend's eyes hid the darkest betrayals. Blue eyes that had once flamed in some weird, twisted love the previous year met Alayne's and incited no reaction inside her but disgust and dislike. She kept her face smooth, bland, emotionless.

Kyle crouched before her, his freckled arms hugging his knees, his smile friendly and open, the easy smile of a friend.

Traitor.

Alayne's eyebrows bunched as she glanced around the clearing. The tall trees spotted the ground, dappling it with morning sunlight. Other students shifted restlessly as they waited for Daymon's orders to start moving.

Alayne subconsciously fingered the scar on her side beneath her shirt—a leftover from when the Vale, the source of Elemental powers, had been inserted inside her as a one-year-old baby. It itched often these days.

Alayne found Daymon, her Guardian—or rather, the Vale's Guardian—standing atop a fallen tree, his profile fierce as he stared down the hillside to their right, searching for hidden dangers. He'd turned into a resourceful guide for their group, saving them several times from discovery by Elemental Alliance soldiers who combed the countryside looking for the twenty-four. Now, Daymon and Alayne led them to the Capital to find his uncle, Manderly Manders, one of the leaders of the resistance, a group called the Last Order.

The Capital—once called Croylar Mol Iompayr, though the name had never stuck after the Great Deluge due to its length and unwieldiness—was the most dangerous place to go, as it was the seat of the High Court and of the Elemental Alliance. But it was also the headquarters of the Last Order, and the Last Order was Alayne's hope for recovering her parents and the rest of the group's hope for safety amid Shadow-Casters who could twist anyone's mind to further the interests of the EA.

Thus far, their group had managed to escape death, but there had been close calls.

You didn't sleep well, Kyle said.

Alayne returned her gaze to Kyle. Why do you say that, Kyle?

You look tired. Plus, he said, reaching for her hand—she jerked it back, and he shrugged—You had a bad dream. We were all watching you—tossing and moaning in your sleep. Kept me awake. And now you're brooding.

Alayne flushed as dread seized her. Had she given anything away? What did I say in my sleep? Kyle was a traitor; he'd sold her out to his mother, Beatrice Pence, a leader in the Elemental Alliance. All year, Kyle had assured Alayne of his love for her, but in the end, his stronger desire for his mother's love and attention had won out. Kyle had at last agreed to feed her information about Alayne.

Alayne's discovery of his two-faced methods sickened her to no end, but she couldn't show it. As yet, Kyle didn't realize that Alayne knew he was a planted mole.

Nothing. Or nothing that made any sense. He shook his head. The muscle in his jaw locked as he exhaled. What did you dream, Alayne?

Alayne crossed her arms. Nothing. Nothing of significance anyway. M—my parents. Her parents had gone missing the previous year when the Elemental Alliance had taken control of the High Court. Naturals like Alayne's father, Bryan, had scrambled into hiding for fear of being rounded up into the Elemental Alliance's Natural Re-Education Centers, or Cleansing Camps, as they were later called. Just another word for a place where people were brainwashed—or if they couldn't be brainwashed, killed—for not aligning their thinking with the EA's mindset.

Alayne had lost track of her parents in their mad flight. She had no idea where they were, but a deep sense of dread had clutched her stomach after they had disappeared.

Kyle's expression softened. "We'll find them, Alayne. We will." He reached once more for her hand, but Alayne scrambled to her feet. To hear his sympathy in the midst of his betrayal was too much. She couldn't handle it. She turned and started toward the spring that bubbled down the hill from where she and the rest of the students had set up a makeshift camp.

Aw, come on, Layne, Kyle's voice followed her. Alayne sincerely wished he wouldn't, but she heard the leaves rustle behind her as she reached the water.

She knelt, splashing some over her arms, hands, and face. The tingle of the element on her skin sent a vivid shock through her system, refreshing and invigorating her.

I wish I were only a Water-Wielder, not a Quadriweave, she thought. Her life might then have been a normal one. Possessing the Vale came with its drawbacks. She couldn't hide in anonymity. Not only was she targeted by the Elemental Alliance, who wanted to use her for her capabilities, she was also under constant watch by the Guardians of the Vale, and rarely could she find herself in a place of peace. The tension of possessing the one thing the rest of CommonEarth wanted and would do anything to obtain was slowly eating her alive.

If not for the Vale, she would perhaps be at home in Skyden, helping her mother prepare supper or practicing blade-throwing with her father in the backyard, instead of fleeing through the woods to the Capital, smiling in the face of a betraying friend, and hiding from anyone and everyone who wished to use her for the power she wielded.

But no. She was a Quadriweave, wielder of all four elements—the only one in CommonEarth who had that ability. A life in hiding was the consequence.

She eyed the water longingly. She'd wait for her full bath until the boys in the group went hunting.

Layne. Kyle interrupted her thoughts.

What? she snapped.

The scouts are back. We're nearly there.

Where? Alayne asked, refusing to look at him.

Impatience lined his voice. Skies, Layne, where do you think? The Capital. Good old Croylar Mol Iompayr.

Alayne cringed against the side of the hill, the sharp point of a stick between her ribs, her ear pressed against the leaf-strewn ground. The steady tromp, tromp, tromp of human feet thudded through the earth less than a hundred yards from their camp.

Daymon lay next to her, his blue eyes darkened to navy, concern evident on his face as he, too, listened to the footsteps. After a moment, his gaze drifted past her to where the rest of the Clayborne students lay spread throughout the undergrowth.

Twenty-four students hiding in the undergrowth within a whisper's distance of one of the Capital's military companies. Alayne's mouth tightened. This far out from the city? she whispered.

They're probably meeting the rest of their convoy and traveling in together, Daymon breathed. He raised his head above the crest of the hill. They're Elemental Alliance. He lowered himself again. They're wearing the three circle badges on their uniforms. They haven't seen the camp; they're following the river and it's not likely... His eyes centered on a point beyond Alayne, and a growl erupted from his throat. In a flash, he scrambled over Alayne, and sprinted down the line of students to a small First-Year, Bryce Marshall, who huddled beneath a copse of pines on the steep hill.

His solid form tackled the boy, and together, the boy and Daymon rolled down the incline, slamming to a stop against a solid oak where the ground leveled.

Alayne stared at them, eyes wide. Gathering her scattered thoughts, she pulled herself level with the crest, peering over. The company's last soldiers marched in formation along the path below. No one in the company gave any sign that they'd heard the disturbance on her side of the hill. Her heart lodged in her throat as she glanced back at Bryce and Daymon. Daymon had overpowered the boy and held him rigidly against his chest, the boy squirming in his arms. Daymon's hand clamped over Bryce's mouth.

Alayne didn't know Bryce Marshall all that well. He had been a First-Year, and the few times she had seen him around campus, he'd been holed up in the corner of the common room or slouched in the back of a classroom. Since their flight from Clayborne, the few times he'd spoken, Alayne had been irritated by his smart mouth and snide comments. She wondered what he had done that had startled Daymon.

Alayne glanced over the hill crest one last time. The last of the soldiers vanished around a curve of the river, and their footsteps faded into the distance. Alayne sat up, working the twigs entangled in her long, honey-gold braid from her hair. The other students lying on the hill stood shakily, brushing the dirt and leaves from their clothing.

Rachyl wound her long hair around her head in a heavy coil and pushed a sturdy stick through it. That was too close. Her normally placid face creased with worry. That was the closest the Elemental Alliance has come to finding our trail.

That we know of, anyway, Alayne murmured.

Daymon marched up the hill, anger tightening his jaw as he gripped Bryce's arm.

It wasn't too bad, Bryce commented as Daymon pushed him more forcefully than necessary toward Alayne, and he stumbled to a stop next to Rachyl. Why are you worried anyway? He cast a sidelong glance at the girl. You're the Leader's niece. You could talk your way out of this whole situation. I don't know why you're still here anyway. Do you actually enjoy being on the run? He shook his limp, shoulder-length hair from his face.

Shut up. Daymon gave Bryce a shake.

The boy glared at Daymon.

What was that all about? Alayne glanced from Bryce to Daymon and back again.

Bryce said nothing. He shrugged and fastened his gaze on a spot over Alayne's right shoulder, his expression fixed in a defiant smirk. Alayne raised her eyebrows.

He started to bend.

Alayne snapped her gaze back to Bryce. If she hadn't been so distracted by the passing company of soldiers, she would have noticed his touch on the element strands. Self-blame made her words harsher than she intended. You did what?

Bryce shrugged. Nothing. Nothing worth all this fuss anyway.

Alayne stepped closer to the boy, and anger tightened her chest. "You started an element bend when hundreds of the Elemental Alliance soldiers were marching right past us?"

Bryce wasn't giving ground. "If Houser had let me finish my bend, the Capital would have been hundreds of soldiers short," he said, mimicking Alayne's tone.

Daymon released Bryce with a rough push. His fingers curled into fists. Look, kid, I don't care how good you think you are. There are twenty-four of us—twenty-four students that escaped from Clayborne. That's it. We've got a chance—a small one—of making it to the Capital and finding my uncle who can connect us with the Last Order. And you just about blew it. Did you really think you were good enough to take on an entire company of EA soldiers all by yourself? He glared at Bryce.

Not me. Bryce smirked. But she is. He motioned to Alayne.

Alayne's mouth dropped open.

Daymon's eyes blazed navy fire. He stepped toward Bryce, but Alayne swiftly laid a hand on his arm.

Wait. She turned her attention to Bryce. Talent and ability is not in the equation, Bryce. She motioned to the rest of the group, who had gathered around, standing in tense formations along the hill. There are several of us here who could have faced off equally with many members of the EA. But our goal is not that lonely company marching through the woods. Our goal is to reach the members of the Last Order, and we have to maintain absolute secrecy. If you can't do that, she paused and pointed the way they'd come, Clayborne is that way. You're free to go.

Bryce glanced uneasily at Daymon, shifting his gaze to encompass Rachyl, Kyle, Alex, and several other students. At last, he scuffed the toe of his shoe in the leaves. I'll stay, he mumbled.

A throat cleared behind them; Alayne turned to the source. Marysa stood there, her eyes wide with fright. It wasn't only one lonely EA company, Alayne.

Daymon didn't pause to ask. He sprinted to the top of the hill, Alayne on his heels. At the crest, Alayne dropped to the ground next to Daymon, horrified to see a halted company of soldiers, at least fifty, she guessed, stopped in their camp. Two soldiers kicked over their hastily covered fire ring. Several turned speculative glances to the surrounding trees.

Bryce's weak cough behind them rang off of Alayne's eardrums, and suddenly, the world was on fire.

Literally on fire.

And Alayne was the one doing it.

The soldiers ran up the hill toward the sound, but their clothes burned in great waves of flame, and Alayne couldn't stop it. Hatred poured through her, and the flames leaped higher while the soldiers dropped with agonized screams. Water-Wielders among the company pulled at the elements for relief, but Alayne's grasp on the entire element harp was too strong. She held the strands, struggling with them, horrified to realize that no matter how hard she tried to control the elements, they were creating their own swath of destruction.

More fire fell, and then, when the soldiers had all collapsed in their pyre, the water element—the one with which she was most comfortable—snapped from her grasp, bringing a wall of water from inside the earth, splitting the crust, flooding the ground with a well of liquid. Vines and roots leaped free of the ground, tangling across the struggling bodies, pinning them to the ground, holding them beneath the water, and then a roar of wind swept from the north. It slammed into the water, and a tidal wave of bodies, trees, water, and still flickering fire rocketed to the south, carrying all the mangled remains out of sight and into oblivion.

Still the water didn't stop; more and more flowed from the earth, a torrent, a flood that reflected the Vale's power. The element harp vibrated wildly, every element on it singing high and shrill, a chaotic mess that she'd unintentionally created. She'd lost control, and she couldn't end it.

Alayne. Daymon's voice sounded distant. Alayne, that's enough now. His hands gripped her wrists, but Alayne couldn't stop.

Alayne, look at me.

Alayne stared at the flood. One remaining soldier had caught on a tree, the trunk rammed between the man's legs. His sightless eyes stared at the leaf cover overhead, his face a burned massacre.

Layne, seriously, look at me. A tinge of desperation colored Daymon's words. Something snapped inside Alayne, and she jerked her hands from the element harp. Her fingers burned with the vestiges of her touch on it.

Water soaked into the earth, leaving a muddy mess.

Utter silence surrounded them. The students, where they stood along the hill and beneath the trees further down, stared at Alayne without moving, terror cloaking their faces. Daymon still held her wrists, his eyes close to hers. Alayne finally forced herself to meet his gaze, and the concern she saw there shot a shaft straight through her heart.

Tears overflowed, and she pulled away from Daymon, huddling into a crouch, sobbing.

Daymon's hand lightly rubbed her back. It's okay, Layne, we're safe. You're safe. You saved us, he murmured.

Alayne choked as she shook her head, her words muffled into her knees so only Daymon could hear them. I couldn't handle it, Daymon. I lost all control. The Vale did it. It killed that entire company in a horrible way, and I couldn't stop it.

Daymon's silence was enough to pull her attention to him. He looked dazed.

Alayne flung the water elements from her cheeks and fully faced him. Talk to me, Daymon. How did this happen? Tell me, please.

Daymon's jaw tightened. His gaze drifted to the ground, and he said nothing for a long moment. I'm not sure, he said at last.

Alayne felt lonelier than if he'd said nothing at all.

Chapter 2

Alayne swiped her black steel blade once more over the whetstone and blew across the metal, her breath fanning the edges. She gathered her sleeve and brushed it across the knife, the black blade reflecting her fingertips as they felt the razor edge.

Taking careful aim at a knot in a tree twenty feet away, she pulled the knife behind her ear, stilling her body and her breath in one moment and releasing the knife the next. It spun end over end, thudding into the center of the circular target.

It was routine by now, knife-play, but the smooth motions and mindless practice comforted her. Daymon had been unable to explain the earlier episode with the Vale's takeover of the elements, and Alayne couldn't stop herself from thinking of the helpless feeling of killing an entire platoon of soldiers, whether they were after her or not.

She retrieved the knife and polished it once more with satisfaction. It was likely the finest creation she'd ever made from the elements, and she treasured it; it reminded her of home. She had made it in Skyden and practiced blade-throwing almost non-stop with it the previous summer.

She swallowed a lump in her throat that swelled as soon as she thought of her parents.

Ryanna James passed her with a bubble of water balanced on her open palm. You ready to go? Daymon says we're breaking camp. She glanced across the glade at Daymon and then back at Alayne, her gaze dropping to the blade in Alayne's hand. What are you going to use that for?

Nothing right now. Alayne slid the knife through her belt loop. She needed to create a sheath for it. The blade's sharp edges were taking their toll on her jeans. I'm ready. She glanced across the camp at Marysa, who knelt next to Jayme's deflated form on the ground. Her jaw tightened.

Two weeks and still no change. Jayme lay on his back, his empty eyes staring at the sky. He responded if spoken to, even carried on a coherent conversation if someone tried to draw him out, but beyond that, he showed little sign of life. It was as though someone had wandered through the rooms of his internal workings and turned off all the lights. All zest, spark, and personality were gone, like an empty cocoon which had already released its butterfly.

Alayne supposed it made sense; if someone had controlled her mind for an entire year before being ripped away from it, she would likely have felt similar. But as days went by and there was little change, her worry increased. At first, Alayne had tried to stay by Jayme's side, to bathe his feverish skin with cool water, but each time she sat next to him, the tension that had lined his face was too painful to ignore.

The closer Alayne drew to Jayme, the harsher his breathing. The wild emptiness in his eyes horrified her, though she wouldn't have admitted it to anyone. The last few times she had tried to help him, he had screamed when she'd drawn within a few feet of him, and she had hastened away, embarrassed by his reaction and terrified that their group would be discovered by bounty hunters. She knew all the students pitied her—her former boyfriend couldn't stand to be in her presence.

She hated it.

An unspoken agreement between Alayne and Marysa allowed Marysa almost full-time care of the patient, since Jayme's fever skyrocketed if Alayne came anywhere near him.

Why won't the Vale heal him? Alayne had asked Daymon in frustration one evening as she'd stared at her hands. "Of all the people I need it to heal, surely it could be Jayme. The Vale has always followed my wishes before. Why wouldn't it now?"

Daymon hadn't answered, a trait that Alayne had come to accept about him. If there was nothing to say, he wouldn't fill the empty spaces with meaningless words. As time wore on, Alayne valued this more and more.

Besides, the answer was not clear. Every wounded thing Alayne had touched up until then had healed. The mountain lion during the examinations her first year at Clayborne, Daymon, even Beatrice Pence after a different mountain lion had attacked her, or Malachi on the same mountain range outside of Clayborne. Their scars had healed badly, but they had healed. Were the after-effects of Shadow-Casting so different?

You want to know my theory, Layne? Marysa had asked that morning. She'd plowed on without waiting for Alayne's nod. I think that Shadow-Casting, since it has to do with the mind, may be above the Vale. Well, not necessarily above, but on another dimension. The Vale is sort of the master of the elements, right? But Shadow-Casting takes it another step, goes deeper, right into your mind and controls it. So maybe the Vale can't heal that. For what it's worth, I don't know, but that's my two cents anyway. It may just take time.

Alayne had licked her lips. And what if he never recovers?

Marysa's sky-blue gaze flickered sadly to where Jayme lay inert. Let's just hope that he does.

A hand on Alayne's arm brought her back to the present. Daymon stood next to her. He nodded toward the north, where, through a break in the trees, she could see black storm clouds circling the mountainous horizon. We might have a wet trek.

How far out are we?

Another eight miles, give or take.

And the scouts? How far in did they go?

Just far enough to glimpse the Capital gates.

Alayne shook her head and sighed. I never thought we'd see the day when the Capital enclosed itself in four walls. News reports before we left Clayborne said that several City Centres around the Continent were considering walls or implementing them.

Daymon shrugged. Times have changed.

Alayne's lips tightened, and she touched the dagger in her belt. Daymon's gaze swung down to it and then back up to her face. That thing's about to cut through your belt loop.

Alayne shrugged. I haven't had a chance to make a sheath for it. Soon. I'd better do it before it drops in the woods, and I lose it. It's my favorite knife. It was one of the weapons I made in my sleep when I had nightmares back home.

I know.

Surprise tinged Alayne. I didn't tell you that.

Your dad did.

The words penetrated deeper than Alayne knew Daymon had intended. She pasted a smile on her face. Never could understand my parents' fascination with you. All you'd ever do was show up and eat all the food in the house.

I protected their only daughter. All traces of teasing were gone from Daymon's eyes. Hey, Layne. We'll find them, okay?

Alayne swiped away the traitorous tear that had spilled down her cheek, angry with herself for allowing it.

Daymon tugged her braid, and his dimple winked at her. We need to stock up our weapons' arsenal. Remind me to give you nothing to do. You'll have us loaded up in no time. The dimple disappeared again. Planning to use your knife for any specific purpose? Kyle makes a good pincushion. At Alayne's frown, he swiftly added, Don't kill the guy, although I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it. You could do it someplace insignificant like his hamstring or something. Just enough so he remembers he should never have messed with you in the first place.

Both of their gazes swung to Kyle, who sat on a log inspecting the sole of his shoe. You're funny, Alayne said with only the hint of a smile. Let's get moving. She nodded to Rachyl, who waited near the front of the camp, her hand resting on her hip.

At Alayne's signal, Rachyl raised one arm. Okay, guys, let's roll.

The group moved forward, stalking through the trees on a steady uphill slope. Alayne glanced at Jayme as she stepped across a fallen log. Another Air-Master had enveloped him in a sheet of air, and Jayme glided smoothly on his back next to Marysa, staring placidly at the sky. His cheekbones jutted below shadowed eyes, nearly skeletal.

Alayne sighed.

Thunder crashed around the group, vibrating the ground where they crouched, sodden. Several pale faces flinched when the next streak of lightning flashed through the trees, followed almost immediately by a peal of thunder. Alayne turned her face to the sky, allowing the water full access to her forehead, cheeks, and neck. She felt a little sorry for anyone who was not a Water-Wielder; she enjoyed the feel of the liquid dripping off of her skin, gaining an almost electric charge from the cool moisture.

She had thought about clearing the thunderstorm from their immediate area—for such a large thunderstorm, it would have taken a tight grasp of the element strands—but they were too close to the Capital. There would be civilians, there would be government officials, there would be Elemental Alliance soldiers, and Alayne and the other Clayborne students were fugitives. Extra care was essential to their survival. So the lightning and thunder continued unabated, and Alayne left the elements untouched.

She eyed the massive city that spread across the valley below them. Sky-reaching spires crowded thickly through the sprawl. At their tops, any number of shuttles moved overhead, landing on and departing from their platforms. White buildings spanned the spaces between the enormous turrets. Marble statues, monoliths, and structures of all sizes dotted the cityscape. In the center of the city at the top of a mound, surrounded by squares, plazas, and lesser structures, Alayne recognized the high, marble pillars of the High Court, hundreds of steps on all four sides leading up to it.

The size had never struck her on her family's MIU at home. Even where she crouched on the hill, the building dwarfed her. Its glass ceiling at the very top of its atrium reflected the lightning every time it flashed, blinding Alayne for a brief moment.

In her mind, she was there again in her living room with her parents, staring at the MIU, watching the replay of Simeon Malachi's attempted Shadow-Casting of the entire High Court. Her mind journeyed through the past two years in quick succession: first, her arrival at Clayborne, her discovery that she was a Quadriweave, and the responsibility that burdened her with that realization. She thought of Chairman Dorner's death, the result of an elaborate plan to gain her loyalty to the Elemental Alliance, of Marysa's kidnapping, of Jayme's plunge over the falls because he came too close to her fight with Simeon Malachi. Her mind moved to the next year: the Elemental Alliance had grown in power, taking less trouble to conceal themselves, sending outright threats to Alayne. Alayne had survived thanks to the loyalty of her Guardians—Manders, Daymon, and others on the staff at the school. Pain knifed through her as she thought of Kyle. She'd thought he had been loyal, too.

Alayne stared at the High Court. My fault. If only I had used the Vale to end this before it began—

It's not your fault, Alayne. Stop blaming yourself, Daymon breathed beside her, and Alayne jerked her gaze to him. She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud. He leaned over a rock at the crest of the hill. His arms flexed as he lifted his weight onto his hands to peer over the city.

Alayne cleared her throat. "So you're telling me we have to find your uncle in that? She motioned toward the sprawl. Do you have any idea where to start?"

Daymon pushed off the rock, sinking thoughtfully into a crouch. Just the seed of an idea. He pursed his lips, considering the steep hillside that disappeared into a solid tree cover at the bottom. Beyond that, a wide, dusty road milled with peddlers who sold their wares outside the city gate. People lined up to enter the gates, all declaring themselves before the guards allowed them access to the Capital. Many clutched dusty bags or rolled up blankets. The EA's policy of detaining Naturals and Natural sympathizers had created social upheaval that had crashed the economy and left many people desperate and out of work. They came to the Capital seeking assistance.

Alayne gestured toward the influx of people. Maybe we can figure out a way in there?

Daymon shrugged. Let's make camp here for tonight, and when everyone's settled, you and I can scout it out.

The city?

"What