Outlanders

Chapter 32: Retreat

Textile Town was silent. After three days of Inti occupation, the machines were dormant, and the entire city looked as if it had been abandoned for decades.

High in one of the factories, Ellis carefully peeked out of a broken window and scanned the distant ground below, where he saw Inti soldiers marching down the avenue, filing into buildings as they went.

Carefully, Ellis mounted a wooden plank only two feet wide that ran from one windowsill to another, bridging an alleyway. Holding his hands out, he edged along the trembling board, taking care not to shift his weight as he stepped. The wind dusted his shoulders, but he kept his eyes locked on his destination, not allowing himself to look down.

At last, he made it across. Ducking into the window, he pulled the board in after him and laid it by the windowsill. Turning around, he hurried down the rickety stairs of the factory, past behemoth machines, over pipes, under low-hanging girders and finally down to the factory floor. There, he checked for prying eyes, then knelt, squeaked open an inconspicuous wooden trapdoor and lowered himself in.

In the basement chamber, Vladimir sat at a desk lit by three dim candles. In front of him, densely written papers were arrayed around his necromancy tome, and a pot of slick black liquid sat to his left.

Vladimir looked over his shoulder at Ellis, then stood up. His eyes were bright with hope, but his thin, pretty frame was growing uncomfortably thin. "Did it go well?" he asked. "What did you find?"

Ellis walked up to him and placed his big, gentle hands on Vladimir's shoulders. "I'm fine," he said, "But I didn't learn much. They haven't grown slack like I thought they would. I didn't even get a good look at their supplies."

Vladimir bowed his head. He pulled his hood over his face too late to conceal his disappointment.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" said Ellis.

"Yes."

Ellis rubbed Vladimir's shoulders, trying to think of something comforting to say. "What spell are you making?"

"That isn't a spell. I'm designing a plague. If I can get a phial of their blood, I can make a disease that only infects inti. It wouldn't kill many of them, but..." he sighed. "I need something to do. Even without the blood, I can start on the basics."

Ellis looked at the ocean of text on the desk. "Those are just the basics?"

"They are."

Ellis gaped. "You're unbelievable sometimes. Do you know that?"

Vladimir gave a sweet smile, his shoulders coming up a little. "Thank you."

The pounding of feet echoed in from above.

"They're here," said Vladimir. "Do you think they'll see us?"

"They didn't last time." As the Inti footfalls echoed through the factory, Ellis sat down by the wall of the basement and took up his sword, piteously running his finger along the nicks in its blade. "I hope Zoltána and her gang are making progress."

* * *

Caldus' cart followed the rest of the refugees into another factory town. An old sign welcomed them Herstellungstadt. Behind it, blazing foundries and grimy brick titans scarred the sky.

"Not another one of these places," Leif whined. "Why do we have to go here? Why couldn't we hide someplace cleaner? The Inti would never look for us in the forest."

"We have to do this," said Zoltána. "I'm sorry, honey. I know I promised we wouldn't go to another factory town, but if we want to fight back against the Inti, we have to go along with everyone else who was run out of Textile Town. And since they have nowhere else to go, they came here."