“If you’re talking about the Caals,” Aldriksays, “they’ve already been relocated to the compound, yesterdayafternoon.”
“But why are we continuing with thiscampaign?” she cries. “If the troops are marching to Krush, theyare clearly preparing to attack headquarters! We should return tothe compound and fight!”
Aldrik is abnormally patient. “Nation,” hesays, “our role all along has been providing the catalyst for theseoutbreaks to occur, which we have accomplished in two territories.Osen is already on the path by itself, but we can forge valuablealliances in Zima. Everything we do on campaign will help therebels much more than three extra soldiers in the field evercould.”
“I know, but –”
“The Commander has dispersed support forcesand aid throughout lower Eridies, including many Deathlandicmercenaries. He’s recalled the recruits from assignment. Thecompound is well guarded … it can withstand much more than youprobably think. We need to continue this campaign for a few moredays. Giving up now will only help the Chancellor.”
Nazirah pinches her arm under the pelt,keeping the tears at bay. “I understand,” she says.
They ride in silence. The truck hums along,singing doldrums. Outside, the landscape erodes, turning glacial.Once they make headway into Zima, the light weakens. Even inmidday, it slants and shatters, losing intensity. Deep fir treesshadow rolling hillsides, covering them like an emerald beard. Theroad elevates and the truck gains altitude. The hills becomesteeper, morphing into mountains … a range of dusty peaks.
A strange white cloud forms on the ground.At first, Nazirah assumes it is cotton, but quickly realizes it issnow. She yearns to jump out of the truck, to touch, play, rollaround, and sink into that foreign powder. Sink so far into itssoft embrace that no one can ever find her again.
The wind picks up, whistling around them. Itshakes the vehicle as they continue scaling the mountainside.Nazirah peers out the window, staring into a chasm droppinghundreds of feet below.
Luka smirks. “It is a very deep ravine,southie,” she says.
“That’s not my name,” Nazirah snaps.
“I meant no offense,” Luka says. “WeNoZimans consider everyone else a southerner. Especially someonefrom Rafu, the furthest south one can go.”
“How inclusive of you,” Nazirah says. Luka’sliquid eyes turn to steel.
Aldrik intervenes. “As Luka was saying, theZimans must drill very deep into the mountainside. Their quarriesplunge to incredible depths in order to excavate the minerals leftbehind so many centuries ago.”
“So our goal is winning over the mineowners?”
“Exactly,” Aldrik says, stroking his beard.“Zima is particularly rich in iron ore, which can be refined intosteel. The whole of Renatus gets its steel from only a fewLordships throughout Zima. It will be a huge advantage to therebels if we can convince them to send it to us instead of theMedis. Just think of how the territories could build therebellion’s defense, weaponry, and infrastructure.”
“You always absurdly simplify things,” Lukascoffs. “The majority of mine owners yield to Ivan Grigori’s reignof terror. The Medis pay the Grigoris handsomely for their loyalty.The chances of them joining us are slim, regardless of the depth ofAdamek’s pockets. They are inaccessible.”
“Then what chance does the campaign havehere?” asks Nazirah.
“Unfortunately for Shizar, but fortunatelyfor us,” Aldrik replies, “the Medis don’t seem to care very muchabout the welfare of NoZima. They have only taken pains to securethe loyalty of SoZimans closest to the Mediah border. We have abetter chance of winning over the mine owners here. Morgen and Iare meeting with some of them late tomorrow afternoon. If all goeswell, we’ll be leaving the following morning. The faster we canescape this siren’s den, this viper’s nest, the better.”
Luka shoots Aldrik a harsh, sideways glance.“If I may interrupt your soliloquy,” she snips, “I would like towelcome the southie to Shizar.”
The truck plateaus onto a snowy road,passing through the gate of what appears to be a small city. Shizaris built into the mountainside, overlooking the ravine. It isfortified by walls of boulders, cannons, and towers. Rollingtowards the city center, they pass thousands of scanty, stonehouses. Men by the hundreds schlep home from their long workday inthe quarry, light skin painted black with soot and grime. Burlywomen chop wood with sharp axes, preparing their homes for thefrozen night ahead. Everywhere, Nazirah sees bright blue eyes, fairheads, flushed faces, and chapped fingers. She thinks nostalgicallyof alabaster cliffs, of sun drenched cottages, and of creakingswing sets on the beach. This campaign, now more than ever, hasmade Nazirah appreciate the place she calls home.
Assuming it still stands.
Nazirah sees a large stone manor looming inthe distance, probably Luka’s home. “What should I be doing, then?”she asks, after a moment. Aldrik didn’t mention her attending themeeting with the miners.
“I am the steward, the protector, over allthat you see,” Luka responds passionately, “as was my father beforeme. Conditions here are grim, to say the least. Life is hard. Andsince Ivan overthrew his brother … everything has deteriorated.This has been our most desperate winter yet.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Nazirah sayshonestly, not entirely sure where Luka is going with this.
“You have come here in a hopeless time,”Luka continues, “a time of famine and violence. I am afraid for mypeople, who have nothing to eat and no prospects. I am afraid ofthe drastic measures they might take.”
“What are you getting at, Luka?” grumblesAldrik.
“Aldrik, you are SoZiman and my husband,”Luka tells him. “Your presence here will go unquestioned, at least,concerning the insurgency. But there’s a huge bounty on your head,Adamek. Amnesty only protects you from those loyal to the rebels,and you have made many enemies in Shizar. And you, southie. I haveno doubt Commander Nation has honorable intentions. But he waswrong to send you here. Everyone knows you. I’m not naïve enough tobelieve my people wouldn’t turn you both over to the Medis in aheartbeat, if it meant feeding their starving families. It hasbecome a matter of life or death.”
“So Morgen and I are supposed to hide awayuntil we leave?” Nazirah asks.
“No,” Luka responds, staring at Nazirah.“I’ll take my chances with Adamek. He can protect himself. But notyou.”
“The girl stays,” Aldrik says tersely.
“Of course she stays!” Luka scoffs. “She’shere already! But she needs to be concealed, Aldrik! No one mustrecognize her.” The truck rolls to a stop and the engine shuts off.They are now in an underground garage, but no one moves to getout.
“This is completely ridiculous!” Nazirahcries, quickly losing control. “My entire hometown and territory isup in arms, getting destroyed, and I can’t do anything about it!And now you’re asking me to hide who I am? What good am I to thecampaign that way? How can I be the face of the rebellion, if noone can see my face? How can I recruit the Ziman intermix, if theydon’t know I’m here?”
Aldrik and Luka visibly tense, looking ateach other hesitantly. “Nation,” Adamek answers her slowly, “thereare no Ziman intermix.”
“How is that possible?” Nazirah asks, notunderstanding. “They don’t exist?”
“Intermix are a luxury this territory cannotafford,” Luka says curtly, reciting it like a mantra. “They onlydrain our already depleted resources. We cannot justify feedingintermix mouths, while the native population of Zima starves. Thecapital subsidizes us for every intermix we … terminate.”
Shizar may be cold as ice, but Nazirah’seyes blaze fire. “You kill them?”
“Don’t take it personally.”
Nazirah lunges forward, intent on crushingLuka’s albino neck. Adamek grabs Nazirah’s shoulder, holding herback. “Let go of me!” she screams, and he releases her. She pullsoff the pelt and chucks it at Luka. Nazirah wants nothing to dowith anything Ziman anymore.