So we’re on our way to the ocean–
For the end of it all–
I wipe Ivan’s blood off on my coat, the stupid uniform coat that matches the Mayor’s exactly, and even the thought of us looking the same fills me with shame–
“Ever seen an ocean, Todd?” he asks.
And I can’t help but look–
Cuz there it is–
The ocean–
And for a second, I can’t take my eyes off it–
Filling all of the screens at once, filling ’em and filling ’em and filling ’em, a stretch of water so huge it ain’t got no end, just the beach at the start, covered in sand and snow, and then water for ever and ever into the cloudy horizon–
It makes me so dizzy I gotta look away–
I go back to the comm screen where I got thru for a second to Viola but of course it’s off, the Mayor shutting down anything and everything I might use to talk to her.
It’s just me and him now, flying to the ocean–
Just me and him for the final reckoning–
He went after Viola. He went after Ben. If the fire didn’t kill ’em, the flood might, and so yeah, we’ll have an effing reckoning–
Yes, we will–
And I start thinking her name. I start thinking her name good and hard, to practise it, to warm it up in my mind, in my Noise–
Feeling my anger, feeling my worry for her–
He may have made it harder to fight by making my Noise quiet, but if he can still punch with his Noise, then so can I–
Viola, I think.
VIOLA–
(THE SKY)
I must send the Land through fire to save it. I must send them climbing up the burning hills of the valley, through trees that blaze, through secreted huts that collapse and explode, I must send them through great peril to escape an even greater peril now rushing down the riverbed–
A greater peril that I set on them–
A greater peril that the Sky deemed necessary–
Because these are the choices of the Sky, these are the choices the Sky has to make for the good of the Land. Huge numbers of us would burn to death if we let the fire keep raging through the forest, huge numbers of us might still burn to death as we make our escape–
But at least if the second happens, we will take many hundreds of the Clearing with us–
No, I hear the Source show, clambering up the steep hill behind me. We are on our battlemores, trying to find a way through the burning to get far enough above the riverbed before the water hits. The battlemores are suffering as we go but we have to press on, hoping their armour will save them.
The Sky can’t think that way, the Source shows. War against the Clearing will only destroy the Land. Peace must still be possible.
I turn to him from where I stand in my saddle, looking down to where he sits on his, like a man does. Peace? I show, outraged. You expect peace after what they’ve done?
After what one of them has done, the Source shows. Peace is not only possible, it’s vital to our future.
Our future?
He ignores this. The only alternative is complete mutual destruction.
And the problem with that would be what?
But his own voice is already glowing with anger. That’s not something the Sky would ask.
And what do you know of the Sky? I show. What do you know of any of us? You have spoken in our voice for a fraction of your life. You are not us. You will never be us.
As long as there is an us and them, he shows back, the Land will never be safe.
I make to answer but the voice of the Land calls down from the valley to the west, warning us. Our steeds begin to climb even faster. I look up the valley, through the flakes of ice still falling, through the fires that burn on either side, the smoke that rises into the clouds above–
And down the riverbed comes a bank of steaming fog, racing ahead of the river like the whistle before an arrow–
Here it comes, I show.
The fog rushes by us and up, coating the world in white.
I give the Source one last look–
And then I open my voice–
I open it to all the Land that can hear it, seeking out Pathways to pass it on, until I know that I am speaking to all Land, everywhere–
And I hear it, the echoes of the first command I sent, the command to gather weapons–
Sitting there as if a destiny to be fulfilled–
I seize on it in the voice and send it again, send it further and wider than before–
Prepare yourselves, I tell the Land.
Prepare yourselves for war–
NO! the Source shouts again–
But his words are lost as water as tall as a city crashes through the valley below us, swallowing everything in its path–
{VIOLA}
We pound up the road into town, Acorn and Angharrad running so fast I can barely keep hold of his mane–
Girl colt hang on, Acorn says and manages to speed up even more–
Bradley’s up ahead of me on Angharrad, the falling snow whipping around us as we cut through it. We’re rapidly nearing the outskirts of town where the road meets the first houses–
What the hell–? I hear Bradley yell in his Noise–
There’s a small group of men marching down the road. They’re in formation, led by Captain O’Hare, weapons raised and apprehension rising through their Noise like the smoke billowing up on the north and south horizons.
“TURN BACK!” Bradley yells as we get closer to them. “YOU’VE GOT TO TURN BACK!”
Captain O’Hare stops, his Noise puzzled, the men behind him stopping, too. We reach them, the horses skidding to a halt–
“There’s a Spackle attack coming,” Captain O’Hare says. “I’ve got orders–”
“They’ve released the river!” I shout.
“You’ve got to get to higher ground!” Bradley says. “You’ve got to tell the townsfolk–”
“Most of them have left already,” Captain O’Hare says, his Noise rising red. “They’re following the army up the road at full fast march.”
“They’re doing what?” I say.
But Captain O’Hare’s looking angrier and angrier. “He knew,” he says. “He knew this was suicide.”
“Why is everyone else marching up the road?” I demand.
“They’re going to the mistresses’ hilltop,” Captain O’Hare says, bitterness in his voice. “To secure it.”
And we see in a flash of his Noise just what secure means.
I think of Lee on that hilltop. I think of Lee unable to see.
“Bradley!” I shout, slapping Acorn’s reins again.