Shattered Soul

Sterling set his pack down on the shattered curb, careful to avoid the discarded cans and crumpled papers, and worked some feeling back into his shoulders. Going straight from his farm shift to a scouting run had left him stiff, but he couldn’t afford to let that show. The LAC had rules about that, after all.

Unfortunately, Alex was sharp as a scout should be. “I know you’ve got a slate in there, but this hike wasn’t that bad.” Alex pulled back from the grimy corner she’d been peeking around and gave Sterling an appraising look, tucking a long braid back into the tight knot she wore them in when venturing into cities. “What was your assignment was this morning, again?”

“Housing committee.” Sterling whispered, lying badly. “You know how picky people get. A few hours craning over the Cityslate is enough to tie anyone in knots.”

He could tell that Alex saw through the lie, but luckily for Sterling, his fellow scout didn’t press the issue.

They both knew what was at stake today.

The sun was high in the sky, though the time was a little hard to tell. The ever-present fog that shrouded the city turned the sun into a white disk that fuzzed away into obscurity, just like all light sources did in this place. Compasses didn’t work here, of course. They never did this close to Idols. When combined with this one’s bizarre floating lights, it became easy to get lost here.

But nothing living got lost in a city for long.

Sterling switched places with Alex, looking around the corner at the hunched figures lurching through the mists. The mournful humming that warned of these creature’s proximity set his nerves on edge, but he kept him self under control. Running would just attract trouble, and they had a job to do.

Last Heart didn’t have much information on the Corrupted here, but they knew that being outnumbered by these ones was a dangerous proposition. Of course, some Corrupted were lethal no matter the number.

“Why do you think the Way Steppers call these Whistlers?” Alex’s words were barely louder than the humming as she dug into Sterling’s pack for the rusty slate. “If it’s supposed to be a warning, it failed.” She pulled out her knife and began carving a warning into the soft metal.

Slates may be a burden to carry and update, but Sterling’s had been the only reason he’d made it out of a city more than once. It had been a while since the Lasters had encountered a Corrupted dangerous enough to jeopardize a paper map, but you never knew what a new type could do. Or when a familiar one would suddenly discover a new trick.

“They call the subway’s Way Steps.” Sterling said, careful to keep his voice down. “How am I supposed to know what they’re thinking?” He regretted it as soon as he said it. Last Heart was trying to unify all survivors. He couldn’t afford to dismiss any out of hand. Besides, anyone who could live beneath an Idol City was worth taking seriously.

“Maybe,” Sterling began, not wanting the conversation to lapse into silence with that unnerving humming hanging in the air, “It could have something to do with how they grow their ranks? It’s not always the Idol-” He cut off as an ear-splitting whistle cut through the eerie hum, echoing off buildings in a way that made him keenly aware of how many places he could be being watched from. Luckily, the noise seemed to be coming from a few blocks away. He watched as the Whistlers lurched, swiftly but unsteadily, toward it. He could hear their humming change pitch as they reached the source and thought he could hear others joining their predatory dirge.

“They named this Idol after some tower, right?” Sterling asked, taking his pack and slate from Alex to check the map. They’d need to route around that.

“Yeah. It’s at the center of the mist.” Alex tapped the spot on the slate as she passed Sterling, taking the lead down their newly cleared route. “Seems as good a reason as any. Whistler too. Seems like their names make more sense than we thought.”

Sterling grunted his response, following in silence. The two scouts spent the next two hours slipping from street to misty street, marking Whistler patrols and potential supplies on their slate. Only the desperate would raid an Idol City. But they needed someone to think they might.

They kept on like this until they reached a street where the fog transitioned from shifting murk to impenetrable in a few feet. They turned down a side street and grabbed a box of colored chalks from Alex’s pack. Over the next few minutes, they drew an image of the Crystal Soul, the heart-shaped symbol and salvation of Last Heart. The real one was the size of a thumbnail, but they needed this to be larger than life.

It was right on the Way Stepper’s front door, after all.

They headed north as soon as they finished, marking walls and dodging Corrupted as if they were marking a path. They continued all the way out of the ruins, back into the wilderness that separated Saybonala’s territory from their camp.

They were, however, being followed.

But that was Sterling’s specialty. Losing a tail was easy. Losing all but the right ones, now that took skill.

He turned and took one last look at the city when they reached the tree line, shading his eyes from the sun as he peered into the ivory fog that clung to the ruins like fungus, its unusually pristine skyscrapers reaching up like sun-bleached ribs. He’d have sworn he could see Saybonala Tower from here. Assuming the shadows at the heart of the unearthly fog pillar were still a building at all. When the ghostly lights that hovered through the city shone through the center of the fog, the silhouette seemed… disturbingly organic.

He made a show of his scan of the city, even pulling out his spyglass and scrutinizing a path the tail wasn’t taking. He felt a bit guilty at the subterfuge, but it was for the best. Wasn’t it?

He lowered the glass, losing himself in thought for a moment, but snapped out of it as Alex tugged him firmly along by his pack. “There you go with those thoughtful looks again.” She continued down the path while chastising. He couldn’t tell if she was joking when she went off on this one. “It’s not like you’ve got the weight of the world to haul, you know. That’s not how Last Heart does things. If we gotta carry it, we’ll carry it together.”

Sterling followed, fingering the pendant hanging from his neck as he wrestled with his thoughts. “Maybe the world’s lighter than we think…”

If Alex heard, she didn’t show it. They hiked the last two miles to the camp in contemplative silence.

A wave of hushed excitement spread through the waiting crowd as Sterling and Alex entered the clearing. This wasn’t exactly a fortified camp, with its rusty folding tables piled high food and supplies, but they weren’t here to fight. Most of the Lasters gathered here were taking shifts as diplomats or cooks, but a few were guards or backup scouts in case something went wrong. It was a warm welcome, but Sterling knew they were excited to see the locket safely back, not the scouts.

The locket held something special. Sterling was just Sterling.

Alex gave him a nod, then headed towards a tent at the edge of the clearing. The away committee would be waiting for an update. Sterling called her name, then tossed her his slate. They both knew that reporting wasn’t a two-scout job.

Instead, Sterling waited near one of the supply tables until he heard a rustle in the underbrush. His tail had arrived, and finally slipped up when they saw what was waiting for them.

The welcome banner was a bit much, Sterling wasn’t sure where they’d even found the paint for it, but the smell of cooking food did its job tempting the Way Steppers into getting closer than they should have.

Sterling signaled the guards.

The two Steppers were quickly surrounded by the guards and shoved into the clearing. Startled, one of the two reached for a knife the length of their forearm. Fortunately, the diplomats worked quickly, convincing the Steppers that they weren’t in danger.

With the fight avoided, Sterling’s job was over. He headed to the caravan as the confused scouts were laden with hot meals and fresh supplies. The diplomats gushed excitedly about Last Heart. Its safety, in an Idol free town. Its fairness, with committees open to all. And its Crystal Soul, which protects from Corruption.

Sterling climbed into the back of one of their patchwork transports, tuning out the diplomats. It wouldn’t stick with the scouts, but it didn’t need to. They’d take it to the Steppers all the same. And talk about it over drinks besides.

Sterling should have taken this time to sleep, he’d need to help with break down and travel soon enough, but he sat fiddling with his locket instead. He wrestled with guilt over the deception again, all the while being annoyed with himself for feeling it.

It wasn’t a lie. Not really. They needed to come together. To depend on one another. They were safer together. Stronger.

Not to mention the panic if everyone knew the truth.

Slowly, his weariness won out over his guilt, and he slipped into restless sleep.

***

It had taken three weeks for the Way Steppers to finally arrive at Last Heart’s gates. Even without vehicles, it should have only taken one. But delays like that weren’t uncommon.

It took time to learn to hope again.

Sterling gave the stragglers a warm smile as the welcoming meeting came to an end. This was only a small step, but the room had an energy to it. The darkness wasn’t gone from the eyes of the new arrivals, just like it never really disappeared from the Lasters, but there was light as well. Pushing the gloom away. The last few inductors were making progress getting the holdouts to talk about their skills, and the sound of gentle laughter could be heard from the orientation tours below.

Sterling lingered a moment longer; letting the progress, the satisfaction, sink in for a few precious seconds. Then he turned, slipping out the back and into the night.

He left his good mood behind with the sounds of first meetings and climbed through the lonely interior of an empty building on the edge of town. It used to be a watch post before half the first floor collapsed into the basement, but even still he knew it well enough.

He reached the roof in a matter of minutes. The view of Last Heart was breathtaking from up here, but Sterling didn’t even glance in that direction; stopping only to grab a blanket from his perch before going to stand beside the crumbling watch post, looking out across the moonlit landscape.

In the distance, Broxxil had begun its midnight feast. Streams of blood trickled up from the ruined city on the horizon, sparkling like violent stars as the moonlight flashed off the liquids every contour. The crimson streams converged at the bird-like monstrosity’s beak, providing a stark contrast to its deep blue feathers as the Idol flew lazy circles above the corpse of old society.

The Crystal Soul could protect us from these horrors. Keep us clean of their influence.

Sterling fingered the heart-shaped locket, the symbol of unity that Last Heart promised, before opening it and staring at the tiny, cracked sliver of rainbow crystal held within.

The Crystal Soul would give us what we needed to save the world. All he had to do was find the rest of it while there were still people left to save.