Lamplighters Society: Land of Szornyek, #3

By Ariele Sieling

They've barely escaped from the voro with their lives. Now Askari, Harcos, Shujaa, and Fane are seeking refuge in the one place secure enough to give them time to heal: Greystone City. The city welcomes them with open arms, and Askari discovers a way of life she never believed was possible. In Greystone City, people are doing more than just surviving—they're living.

 

Plagued by nightmares from the City of Dod, Askari throws herself into the work of the city as she waits for her friends to heal, hoping to outrun her trauma. But the settlement is not as safe as it seems. Politics divide the people, and the new surge of monsters has brought a flood of refugees to the city. And monsters are lurking everywhere—even within the city's seemingly safe confines.

 

With every minute that passes, Askari regains more of her strength—and Devor gets closer to finding and destroying the Baratok. Askari has to decide: remain safely in the city, or brave the monster-ridden wilderness alone?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ariele Sieling
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393751748

Ariele Sieling

Ariele Sieling is a Pennsylvania-based writer who enjoys books, cats, and trees. Her first love, however, is science fiction and she has three series in the genre: post-apocalyptic monsters in Land of Szornyek; soft science fiction series, The Sagittan Chronicles; and scifi fairytale retellings in Rove City. She has also had numerous short stories published in a variety of anthologies and magazines and is the author of children's books series Rutherford the Unicorn Sheep.She lives with her spouse, enormous Great Pyrenees dog, and two cats.You can find her work on Kobo, Amazon, Barnes&Noble, Apple, GooglePlay, and Payhip. Visit www.arielesieling.com for more information.

Book preview

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Chapter 1: The Nokka

The gray wall towered over the empty landscape, visible over a mile away. Askari squinted through the hazy morning air, but couldn’t make out much detail. It appeared to be an unusually angular and smooth sheet of sheer rock, somehow growing out of the surrounding landscape of black asphalt, which was rough and worn with occasional weeds poking through the middle. White flecks of paint were visible amid the crumbling ground, though Askari couldn’t quite make out a pattern.

That’s it, Harcos said, his breathing ragged. We’re almost there. He held his arm close to his side; the rags were saturated with blood, and holding it close was all he could do to staunch the bleeding. His face was gaunt, and Askari worried that he would faint at any moment.

Askari took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in her feet, and hoisted her end of the stretcher a little higher. Fane groaned as the movement jarred his prostrate body, and he pressed his eyes shut.

I need to rest, Shujaa said from the front of the stretcher. Her arms trembled, and Askari could see that she wouldn’t be able to carry him for much longer. The trip had taken seven days, despite it only being an eighty-mile journey, because they were all too weak for any speed. They’d been fortunate to not encounter more than two monsters in that time, both of which had been dispatched with a simple arrow.

We’re almost there, Askari said, trying to be encouraging. The truth was, she didn’t feel hopeful at all. All she could say was that at least the four of them weren’t dead. At least they had survived. At least they hadn’t run into Devor as they fled from the City of Dod. And at least they had managed to turn off the machine allowing more monsters into the world.

But despite their panicked flee, their injuries, their exhausting journey away from the City of Dod—Askari couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel.

She had sliced Connie’s head from her shoulders. Rationally, she knew she had done the right thing. Connie was infected with a vicious garg that controlled her body, her mind, and her words, and there was only one way to destroy it.

But it didn’t change the fact that she had killed a person. Something she never thought she would do. Ever.

Every time she had managed to fall asleep in the last seven days, she had woken up screaming or sobbing uncontrollably. She had even vomited more than once. None of the others could help—they too were suffering—grief, pain, loss; Fane could barely even look at her.

She had killed his friend.

He would have done the same thing.

But that didn’t change the fact that it was her blade, her hand—her—that had done it.

In addition to that, Devor was still running around in Agi’s body. He looked like Agi, talked and walked like her—he was pretending to be a warrior from the Baratok community. He had even said, out loud, that his plan was to find them, blend in, and steal their bodies for his friends—the other voro that had crawled out of the awful machine.

Every inch of Askari burned to go after him, or at least to get to the Baratok and warn them not to trust anyone.

But she couldn’t make it, even if she had any idea where they were. She could barely walk, still weakened from the last couple of weeks. Fane couldn’t take more than a few steps without collapsing, which was why they carried him on a stretcher. Harcos was going to bleed to death if they didn’t find someone to stitch shut his wounds. And Shujaa, while in the best shape of all of them, could hardly function, hardly piece together a full sentence. She seemed to have shut down.

They had to rest. Heal. Recover.

They stumbled forward across the landscape, climbing over a small wall of perfectly square stones each placed about two feet apart, and picked their way through the lumps of asphalt and rock. All the while, the building loomed in front of them, growing ever taller.

About a quarter mile out, they heard a loud horn start to blow as a dark cloud rose up over the building, sharp edges sparkling in the sunlight. Ahead of it, a piercing, shrieking noise reached them, like a fork scraping against a metal door.

Askari nearly dropped her end of the stretcher, straining as it took all of her strength to keep Fane from plummeting to the ground.

Set him down! Set him down! Shujaa yelled from the front. She set down her half of the stretcher and then covered her head and ducked.

The cloud dove toward them, a flock of black, bird-like gargs with pointed beaks and spiked tails, cawing and shrieking as they passed overhead. They swung their tails in angry swoops, barely missing the four warriors. Harcos hurled himself to the ground and covered his own head. Askari dropped her end of the stretcher, Fane’s body landing with a thump and a groan. She threw her own body across his, covering his face with her hands, and squeezed her eyes shut as the cloud of birds swooped past and then upward into the sky again. Her heart pounded as adrenaline rushed through her.

She looked up. The birds made loops in the sky, soaring upward and then using their downward momentum to increase their speed, and presumably spear dinner.

We have to run! Askari yelled. When they’re flying up, we have to run—get away from them.

What about Fane? Shujaa yelled back.

Cover him with a tarp! Askari looked up again. The birds had reached the nascent and curving downward.

Cover your head! Harcos yelled.

When they go back up— Askari replied, but was cut off by another voice.

Over here!

Askari looked to her right. A group of people jogged toward them, holding a large metal roof over their heads, like an umbrella made of thick steel. Each one held a handle, and one person in the center waved at them.

Rolling off Fane, Askari grabbed her end of the stretcher and stood up, Shujaa copying her on the other side. Two men ran out from underneath the steel umbrella and took the stretcher from them. Harcos was already halfway to the group, and the birds were closing in.

Run! one of them yelled, so Askari left them with Fane and ran.

A moment later, she, Shujaa, and Harcos all huddled under the steel. The birds hit, their tails scraping and banging against the metal. The group holding it up barely seemed to notice, and as soon as Fane was beneath it, they all began to jog toward the looming gray building ahead of them.

Keep running! one of them yelled. Only a short bit further!

Keep running. Askari had been repeating it for two days. Ignore the pain, she said when Harcos complained about his arm. Imagine you have all the strength of every Baratok, she said when Shujaa’s muscles quivered and shook from carrying Fane. We can survive this too, she told herself anytime she was tempted to lie down and let the gargs finish her off.

But she barely heard herself. Instead, she saw Connie’s bright eyes staring at her, leering at her, daring her to do it, to slice off her head. And she saw Devor, blinking back at her from Agi’s body, and felt the hesitation—she could have done it, could have killed Devor. There was one moment when she had the chance, but she hadn’t done it. Agi was… not her friend, but her family. A member of her community. A strong warrior.

Askari had failed. Failed to kill Devor. Failed to protect her community. Failed to uphold the Baratok warrior creed.

It wasn’t a failure, the logical half of her brain said—but that didn’t stop her from seeing Connie’s dead stare every time she closed her eyes.

She focused her attention on the gray wall. That was it. That was as far as she had to go. The gray wall, and then she could rest. But only until they had healed—and then she would run back to the Baratok, to warn them. And somehow make amends for what she had done.

The birds had vanished, no doubt flying high in the air, about to drop back down again in another angry torrent; sure enough, a moment later, the clanging and clacking of their tail spikes against the metal roof surrounded them in a cacophony of sound.

What are they? Harcos called as the sound of their tails smashing against the metal umbrella clanged in their ears.

They’re called nokka, one of the warriors shouted.

Askari kept her eyes on the gray wall. As they neared, she saw that it wasn’t sheer and smooth at all, but rough like stone. Then she saw a door made from gray metal, opening just a crack as they neared. The steel roof hooked to the side of the building and the door flew open the rest of the way. They stumbled inside; arms reached out to help them.

Medic! she heard a voice shout, then the murmuring of many voices, though they seemed far away. She sank to the floor and closed her eyes. They had made it. Tears fell down her cheeks, and her hands trembled. She wiped blood off her forehead, though whose it was, she had no idea. The hum of activity around her grew louder, and her mind swirled with pain, grief… guilt.

Excuse me.

She opened her eyes. A woman with long blonde hair stared back at her, concern written into every crease around her eyes. She pressed a bottle of water into Askari’s hand. Askari tilted her head back and poured the water into her mouth gratefully, savoring the feeling of the cool liquid soothing her dry throat.

Are you hurt?

Askari stared blankly at the woman, not exactly sure where to start. She had wounds on her wrists from when Devor had tied her up, scabs on her knees from when she had run through the woods after escaping him. She had cuts and scratches and bruises all over from the fight in the dome outside the City of Dod. But, the one thing that hurt more than anything else… She reached down to pull off her shoes revealing the burns from the bogar.

They had mostly healed, thanks to the lecui potion Vica had given them when they left the Baratok, and the lecui potion Berna, the Rokkin medic, had given her, but their panicked escape from the City of Dod had left her feet raw and aching.

Great garg, the blonde woman breathed. You were walking on these?

Next, Askari pulled up her sleeve. A cut from where Devor had hit her with a metal pipe had long stopped bleeding and a fat scab now covered it over, but she had never taken the time to clean it. A big, ugly bruise spread out around it.

It needs to be cleaned, she said softly. I didn’t have time.

Let’s do that first, the woman said. She smiled gently. My name is Cameron.

I’m Askari.

Askari, Cameron said. That’s a pretty name.

Askari stared at her, trying to process the statement. It seemed so frivolous and trite to compliment her name. Who even thought about those things? But it was nice, so she replied, Thank you.

Askari, you seem to be in the best condition of your companions. Do you think you can talk to us, explain what happened and where you came from?

Of course, Askari answered, glancing around the room. Shujaa was leaning against a nearby wall, being attended to by another medic. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Harcos and Fane were nowhere to be seen. She looked around frantically. Where—where—

Don’t worry! Cameron said. The men have been taken to our hospital. They need more assistance than we can give them right here.

Askari nodded once and focused her attention beyond Cameron. They were in a small, dark room lit by electric torches. Chairs lined the walls and a few young people lounged in them, laughing and jostling each other while holding loosely to a variety of weapons—spears, swords, and axes mostly. She could see that the people who had carried the metal umbrella were warriors, and they now sprawled out casually in the chairs as well, joining in the soft conversation or staring up at the ceiling. A few peered curiously at her and Shujaa, but most didn’t even seem to notice them, as if the arrival of strangers was an everyday occurrence.

What is this place? Askari asked. It was a far cry from any building she had ever been in—different from Minda’s house, the Lamplighter safe house, Devor’s house, or any of the barns she had slept in. It was most similar to the Dome, with flat floors and flat walls, a hard substance that wasn’t wood or glass or metal—something else entirely.

It’s the south entrance of Greystone City, Cameron replied. She finished bandaging Askari’s arm and moved to her feet, rubbing them in a cooling lotion. Can you walk?

With shoes, Askari replied. Her feet throbbed, but walking a little longer wouldn’t kill her. And besides, she deserved the pain.

Let me clean those out for you. Cameron took the shoes, covered in mud, dried blood, and garg knew what else, and disappeared into the other room.

You need anything? A tall warrior knelt beside her with a sympathetic smile on her face. I’m Sophia.

Askari. She shook her head, flinching as she pulled on a sore muscle in her back.

You’re Baratok, right? Sophia asked.

Askari almost nodded, but then opted for the less painful, Yes.

Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sophia said, despite the circumstances. Cam’s a great medic so you’re in good hands, but if you need anything else, let me know.

Thank you.

Askari stared after Sophia as she retreated back toward her group of friends. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever was coming next. She had no idea what it would be like here, how many people lived here, what the rules were, or how their community was structured. She had found the Rokkin to be very laid back and easy to deal with, but she knew nothing about these people. What if they hated outsiders? What if they sold them into slavery?

She closed her eyes for a moment. She had no doubt she could escape from anyone who tried to enslave her—or at least die trying. And in the meantime, it would be much better if she didn’t try to invent scenarios that weren’t going to happen. She had better focus on her surroundings, pay attention—any information might come in useful.

She opened her eyes again and pushed herself up so she was in a slightly more comfortable position. Several of the warriors inside the door had vanished. Askari looked longingly at the chairs across from her. She should have sat in one of those, but she didn’t want to move now.

Beside her on the floor, a small black rock hugged the wall. She poked it with a finger. She had never seen a rock so dark before, or so oddly angular—almost like a double-peaked pyramid. Maybe they were native to wherever the city was. Harcos was always saying how different places had different environments and different animals and plants—maybe they had different rocks too.

Good as new! Cameron announced. Askari shifted her attention to the medic. She carried Askari’s shoes, sparkling red with white stripes on the side.

They weren’t even that clean when I got them, Askari said, eyebrows raised.

Where did they come from?

An image of a heap of skeletons flashed into Askari’s mind, but she pushed it away. I don’t want to talk about it.

Of course. Cameron waved at the group of people lounging on the chairs. Two stood and rapidly walked over. Please escort us to the main office, she said, reaching down to help Askari stand.

Askari stifled a groan as she rose to her feet. They felt much better with the lotion and the clean shoes, but her entire body ached, and all she wanted to do was sleep—if she could manage to do it without nightmares.

The name’s Randy, one of the men said, grinning at Askari. Warrior. He had red hair, and freckles covered his cheeks. He had a bow draped across one shoulder, a long knife strapped to his hip, and a slingshot hanging out of his pocket.

Nice to meet you, Askari replied.

We’ve met, Sophia said, coming to stand beside Randy. Just from what she could see, Askari counted seven knives strapped to Sophia’s wrists, boots and thighs, all in different sizes and with differently shaped blades, not to mention the sword hanging from her belt. She wasn’t someone to mess with. Her hair was pulled back in tight braids, similar to how Elder Dano from the Baratok community liked to wear it.

Hi again, Askari said, giving a halfhearted wave.

Cameron led Askari down the long hallway and pulled open a door at the end. The room on the other side opened up to reveal a high ceiling, a brightly lit interior, and hundreds of people. Askari couldn’t believe her eyes. She had never seen so many people in one place at a time. Light shone down through glass panes in the ceiling, and all up and down the huge room, people laughed and talked and worked.

To her left, a group of children played some kind of game with sticks and chalk. They waved and cheered when she stepped out of the door. To the right, a group of teenagers practiced a series of fighting moves on a wide, padded rug. The two demonstrating were quite skilled, Askari thought, and the others watched intently, oblivious to the chaos around them.

Askari, on the other hand, was immediately overwhelmed. She didn’t know where to look—up, down, around. Her brain was fuzzy and muddled enough as it was—she could barely walk in a straight line, let alone concentrate on more than one thing at a time. So she stared at Cameron’s back. White jacket. Blue pants. Sturdy shoes. A knapsack with a zipper shaped like a lightning bolt.

The two guards strode closely behind her—as if Askari was actually capable of causing trouble at this moment. She had left her backpack in the entry room, as well as her bow and arrows—all she had was her machete, still sheathed.

The main part of the enormous building was shaped like a long, wide hall, with rooms on either side. Some were wide open and filled with activity, while others were closed with metal gates that pulled down. A balcony stretched overhead as well, and she could see people peering over the railing, though whether they were examining the floor below or looking at her, she couldn’t tell. Askari noticed that all the rooms appeared to be illuminated with the same electric lights as the entryway, in addition to the natural light that streamed through the glass windows above.

This community was clearly much larger than her own, which now had less than two hundred people. It was larger than the Rokkin community, which had close to four hundred people. In fact, she guessed it was larger than both communities combined—and then some. Children of all ages played and worked with teenagers, adults, and even elderly individuals, who all lived together in this one colossal building.

A dark shadow passed over the skylight. Askari froze, her body tensing as she looked up. Would the birds try to break through the glass? Their sharp wings and tails glistened in the light, but their shapes were distorted by the thickness of the glass windows.

Don’t worry, Cameron said. At the beginning, they put iron grating over the windows so it would be difficult for the nokka to break through—almost impossible, really. They fly over all the time and we’ve never had a problem.

Askari shook her head, overwhelmed by everything around her. She didn’t know what to think or feel about it. Mostly, she just wanted to rest—a dreamless, endless sleep.

How do things work around here? Askari asked. What is everyone doing?

It depends, Cameron said, smiling and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You saw the teenagers where we came in—they were training. But every person here over the age of ten has responsibilities. Some train to be warriors and scavengers. Some train to be cooks or seamstresses or healers. Some study how to improve the space we live in. Some take care of children. Some teach. Some do cleaning and maintenance. Some serve food. Some do laundry. Some work on the building itself, reinforcing it, making it safer and more impenetrable. Some work in our greenhouse, growing food. Some deal with trading. We even have a store dedicated to hotel space, so we have a place for visitors to sleep. That’s where you’ll be staying.

Stores? Askari asked.

Back before the Cataclysm, Cameron replied, every single one of these rooms used to be a store. This whole place was a big building where people went shopping.

Shopping for what?

Anything. Clothes, shoes, personal products, glasses, food, kitchen stuff—anything you can imagine was sold here.

It was unfathomable. First, the idea that someone could simply walk into a building and find exactly what they needed all in one place, and second, that civilization had been so secure that people could use paper money to buy things, without even needing a trade and barter system. The elders had explained money many times, but Askari had never really understood it—a piece of paper didn’t have any inherent value, except to write on. How could it be equal to food or clothes? Yet there were millions of people in the past who had used it exactly for that. And she was now standing in a building thats entire purpose had been dedicated to people trading pieces of paper for valuable things. It was mind-boggling.

Of course, she had known most of this before, but seeing this building, how big it was, and how full—it was real. Not just stories that Elder Dano told. Not just rumors. Not just history. It was all real.

Who’s in charge? Askari asked. She figured they probably had a bunch of elders, like the Baratok, who discussed everything and made decisions.

The president, Cameron replied. Her name is Amaka Falcon, and she’s one of the original founders of Greystone. I’m sure she’ll be very interested in what you have to say.

Askari fell silent as they moved through the busy street. There were so many people, and smells! Someone was cooking, and they were getting closer and closer to the food. Her stomach rumbled. All she wanted was meat, but she would have to wait. They weren’t going to feed her for free, most likely. They would want her to answer questions first—maybe then they would offer her food. It had only been a day since she had last eaten, but it felt like a hundred years.

Cameron turned left down a second hallway and led Askari into a room. Light from the skylight draped across the old gray rug, and a bright lamp lit one corner.

A man sat behind a desk inside the door. He stood as they entered, towering over Cameron, muscles rippling under his shirt and a frown hovering beneath his mustache.

Who’s this? he asked. His voice was surprisingly low and rumbling.

Four new refugees have arrived, Cameron said, nodding at the man. Here to see President Amaka.

Does she know you’re coming? the man asked.

No, Cameron replied, but I figured she would want to be briefed as soon as possible. One of the wounded is Rokkin. Fane.

They knew Fane? He did ride around on a horse by himself, Askari noted. A wave of guilt rushed through her. She had killed his friend. He would likely never forgive her.

The man stared at Askari. His gaze was unsettling and made her a tad uncomfortable. She felt like he could kill her with his glare if he chose to. He must be the head of security, and for good reason. He was big enough to crush a nagy with his pinky finger and had a stare equivalent to that of the green hypno-bat. It seemed the president was in good hands.

It’s okay, Hagan, a voice called from the shadows in the back of the room. A door opened and the silhouette of a tall figure appeared in a bath of light. I’m done with my meeting.

I’ll take you in, Hagan said. You two— he pointed at Randy and Sophia, wait here. And tell anyone that stops by that I’ll be back shortly.

Yes, sir, they said in unison, and turned to face the hall, hands hovering over their weapons, chins raised, and feet shoulder-width apart.

They passed two young soldiers leaving as Hagan led them into the back room, which had a much brighter lamp glowing in one corner. A tall woman stood beside a large wooden desk, her black hair tied in dozens of little knots. She had broad shoulders, a strong chin, and a bold demeanor which Askari found intimidating.

Introduce yourself, the woman

Reviews for Lamplighters Society

[Julie Eman · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was a great continuation of Askari’s adventure through the world of gars. I really enjoyed reading more about the communities in the world and how everything got set up after the Cataclysm.

Some of the dialogue did seem pretty forced, but overall the characters were well written and easy to follow.

I loved all the different types of fats that we discovered and learning more about the Lamplighters Society.