Alight (The Generations Trilogy #2)(111)

The spear is yanked from my hand.

Barkah raises his arms, the spear held in one hand, the other hand outstretched, letting the morning sun glisten off his bracelet.

He talks for a few seconds. Again, I don’t know what he says, but I don’t have to understand the words to see their effect: the long, seemingly endless line of Springer guns hovers, flutters, lowers. One or two at first, then in a wave, until all the muskets point down at the ground.

One by one, the Springers lower their heads. They drop.

They kneel.



There must be a hundred bodies scattered across the battlefield. Humans and Springers alike, shredded by weapons both primitive and advanced. And I suddenly wonder if it didn’t have to be this way, if Barkah could have stopped all of it—but he didn’t want to.

Maybe what he really wanted was to become the leader of his people.

As with many things, maybe our two races are more alike than we are different. Barkah wanted power.

The Springer prince—no, the new king—turns to me. He thonks the spear butt on the deck, leans the tip toward me, offering me the weapon.

“Hem…peace.”

Yes, peace. At what cost? And for how long?

I take the spear.

While I don’t know what the future holds, this battle, at least, is finished.





It is a beautiful day on Omeyocan. The reddish sun beats down. Blurd wings sparkle in the light. I smell fresh-baked bread and roasting meat. We will eat well tonight.

A short distance from the Observatory, Muller slows my spider. He’s done this enough times now that he doesn’t need to be told what to do. The child soldier stops us in front of the black X, lowers the machine’s belly. Metal clangs against stone; no more vines on this street, as we cleared them away.

Muller—or Victor, as he prefers to be called—missed the battle entirely. Matilda locked him in an Observatory cell. Once things calmed down, we found him and let him out. He’s a circle-star, so he’s still somewhat bitter he didn’t get a chance to fight. Like most kids with his symbol, he’s constantly eager to prove himself. If I have my way, he’ll never get that chance, because we’ll never fight again.

I hand him my spear.

“Hold this for a moment?”

He takes it, holds it as if it’s a magical talisman. Maybe he’ll hold it permanently one day; if so, he’ll find out it’s far more burden than blessing.



I climb out.

The black X is bent and twisted from the fire’s heat. We moved it out here into the open, where it serves as a monument to the people and Springers who died in that fire.

“Hello, Kevin,” I say. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it yesterday. Or the day before. Kalle and Walezak got into a fight. Kalle is working to see if there’s a way to get our Bello back. She might be in there, somehow—just like you were. Walezak says it’s a sin, and that Grownup Bello’s wisdom and experience are too valuable to lose. Something like that. Anyway, they got into a fistfight, if you can believe it. Oh, and I had to check on the first crops. I told you they found corn seeds in the food warehouse, right?”

Kevin doesn’t answer, of course. He never does. His bones are buried here along with his progenitor’s, Coyotl’s, Old Bishop’s and those of the other Grownups who died in the Observatory battle. I wonder if they, too, listen to me when I talk.

“I can’t stay long today,” I say. “Spingate sent for me, said she found something really important. She wanted Borjigin and Barkah, too. I’ll come back and tell you what it is as soon as I can, okay?”

Kevin doesn’t answer.

“Spin is really close to having the baby,” I say. “Smith says it could be any day now. Hard to believe how much time has passed since Gaston told everyone she was pregnant. He said if it’s a boy, they will name it after you. Isn’t that nice?”

Kevin doesn’t answer.

I reach out, lay one hand on the twisted black metal. It’s hot from baking in the sun. The first few times I did this, it made me cry, but I don’t cry anymore.



Not every time, anyway.

“I miss you,” I whisper. “I miss you so much.”

Muller softly clears his throat, reminding me I’m already late.

I turn away from the X, scale the spider and stand next to the young circle-star. He hands me my spear, then urges the spider on without saying a word.

Since the standoff in the clearing, Muller has become my driver and assistant, of sorts. Bishop calls him my “bodyguard.” Muller is taller than me now. He’s our best marksman, and I’ve seen him training with knife, hatchet and fists. His lanky frame belies his ability as a gifted, deadly fighter. I hate to think I actually need a bodyguard, but I know I do—as the leader of my people, I’m a target for the Springers that want to drive us out. We still can’t fully trust them. Perhaps we’ll never be able to.

And then there is the constant fear that Matilda and the Grownups will return. For all we know, they’re here already. Gaston thinks they could fly a ship to the far side of Omeyocan and land without us knowing. The thought is terrifying, but also galvanizing: Barkah and the Springers understand the Grownups are the ones that savaged their race for generations—not us. If Grownups attack, they will be met with unified resistance. While our problems with the Springers are many, having a common enemy outweighs them all.