“Maybe,” I answered.
“We can’t always judge a world by our own. I try to see it through their eyes, not mine.”
He walked to another wall and read more to me. Only six of those who lived in here were witness to the stars that fell. The rest were born later. Of the six, only a few—Greyson, Miandre, Leesha, and Razim—had any memory of the world of the Ancients. They saw the ruins before they were ruins. They lived in the shining towers that reached into the sky, flew in winged carriages, and remembered all manner of magic the Ancients controlled with their fingertips—the light, the voices, bending the laws of the earth, and soaring above it. One thing was certain, these were children leading and protecting other children from predators.
It explained a lot about the Ballengers.
It made me wonder if their claim was true—that they were the first kingdom. Tor’s Watch appeared to have begun less than a decade after the devastation. Morrighan was established six decades after that. The other kingdoms, centuries later. When Pauline had first told us histories that were different from the ones that Vendans knew, I remembered we had all been skeptical.
Jase crossed the room to read more entries on the wall.
They promised they would leave if we gave them supplies. Instead they stabbed Razim and tried to take more. We do not know if he will live. I cannot stand the weeping any longer. The vault is full of beds, but no weapons. I use tools to rip one apart and hoist the metal upward, testing it with my arm. If it were sharp, it would make a good spear, and hundreds of beds could make hundreds of spears.
—Greyson, 15
Razim has recovered. He is an angrier and tougher Razim. He sharpens spears all day long now. I help him. There will never be enough, because more scavengers always come.
—Fujiko, 12
My grandfather was a great man and he ruled a great land. He has been dead for a year now. If we ever get out of here, I will go back to where he died and give him a proper burial. I will pile rocks high in his honor. I am not a savage as Miandre thinks, but sometimes I’m forced to make savage choices. There is a difference.
—Greyson, 15
I looked up to see Jase studying me. He wasn’t reading the passages to me, but reciting them from memory. His shoulders were leveled, his chin lifted, his stance like a wall that couldn’t be moved.
“Why did you bring me here, Jase?”
“I want you to know our history and understand a little bit more about who we are before we head out.”
“Head out? What do you mean?”
He laid it out quickly. The supplies had come in, and we were leaving this morning for the settlement site. The timing was good. Things were quiet here for now, but still, he couldn’t be gone for more than a day.
“But you said—”
“No more than a day, Kazi. I agreed to help. I will. I’ll dig a fence post or two and make sure the plans are set, but tomorrow morning I have to return to Tor’s Watch. My greater responsibilities are here. I’ve already been gone for too long. I can’t turn right around and disappear for days again.”
“And who will make sure the work gets done?”
“One of my brothers or someone else I trust will always be there supervising.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not Gunner, I hope.”
/> “He’ll do as I ask.”
“That’s right. You’re Patrei. Just so you know, the Vendans aren’t impressed by titles.”
“Then we have something in common.”
* * *
As we left the vault, I paused and looked down the opposite way—somewhere at the end of this long, dark tunnel was a locked door, poisonous dogs, and maybe poisonous secrets.
“Go ahead,” Jase said. “Ask.”
“What’s behind the door?”
“Us, Kazi. We are behind the door. There’s nothing on the other side. It’s only another portal into and out of Tor’s Watch. Every good stronghold has more than one way out. Otherwise you could be trapped. It leads to a path that goes down the back side of Tor’s Watch. It’s narrow and more treacherous, but it’s a way out. Or in. We have to keep it guarded.”