Vin’s eyes were wide as he scrambled to pick up the plants by his feet. In the distance, more Derkatzian howls rose up and intermingled with the shrieking winds. Aly had forgotten how much they could communicate with the tone and frequency of their barks. “We have to go!”
They ran for the village; there was no other way to get back to the docks. They cut left at an alley to move toward an inner circle, where the shrieking of the wind died down. The central village in Derkatz was plotted as a series of concentric structures that kept each inner courtyard more protected from the sand and howling winds than the last.
They hurtled left, and right, and left again. The principal village had been a fort during the Great War—one way in, one way out. Finally, they ducked into the shelter of an alcove so that Aly could knot a handkerchief around his nose and mouth. Anywhere else he would’ve looked like he was going to rob someone. But here everyone wore bright fabric, the color of prayer flags, around their faces to keep out the sand.
“Take these,” Vin said, shoving the crate of plants in his direction. Aly hugged it to his chest, trying to orient himself, without a cube, to the look of the unfamiliar streets. “We need to split up. The Derkatzian probably said there were two of us.”
Aly nodded, hoping he’d be able to find his way back to the docks. Taejis. He had hardly been paying any attention when they’d walked the village earlier. He was always using his cube for things like this, on the fly. But how hard could it be?
“We’ll meet each other west of the docks, near the customs bureau. Stay calm, and don’t run unless you have to.”
They emerged from the alley.
“And remember, the Derkatzians can smell fear,” he added as he went left. “Be cool.”
Perfect parting advice. Aly went right, his heart thudding like an engine working double time. He dodged a man who barreled through, holding a chicken by the neck. Aly took his next left, backtracked when he hit a dead end, and almost mowed down a group of kids—humanoid and Derkatzian alike—who’d made a game of floating a ball on the wind. He swatted it as he passed, and it bounced against a wall, pinballing between surfaces as the children screamed happily. As he cleared the group, he saw two Derkatzians sniffing their way toward him. They’d gotten down on all fours, a position used only for hunting, and Aly could see the fox resemblance now more than ever. Except for their size, of course.
He shot down an alley, hoping they wouldn’t pick up his scent, then kept threading through: half circle, alley, back out again, up a staircase three steps at a time. He didn’t know if he was going the right way; he wasn’t used to navigating without his cube to tell him exactly where to go. A woman crouched low over a basket, and he pivoted around her. Gravity was slowing him down. He wasn’t used to it anymore; he felt like he was moving through soup.
He couldn’t be far from the docks now. But at his next turn, he caught a glimpse of black uniforms and shiny badges, and his heart nearly stopped. Tasinn. They were coming up the stairs. He ducked into an open doorway and pressed his back against the wall. What the hell were they doing here? Derkatz was neutral territory, and way too far for Kalusian guards to travel.
Get it together, he told himself.
Inside, there were rolled-up sleeping mats and a low table in the center of a sparse room. There was one window, and it was dark. Quiet. He could hear himself breathing. His legs burned. He was out of shape.
“Snatch-yah uptu?”
The voice was quiet, but Aly knew it was a question by the way the whole sentence tipped up like a seesaw. He looked around him. A little boy was squatting in a corner. It was as if he’d just formed out of the shadows.
Aly shook his head, not understanding. They spoke Kalusian here, but it had its own water-like quality, all the words fluid and rushed.
“Snatch-yah uptu?” the boy tried again, speaking very slowly as he mimed grabbing something with his hands.
Aly stared. “Snatch me up?” Something about the kid’s expression made his stomach drop. “Who would snatch me up?”
The boy shrugged. “Men they started coming last year. Used to give us candies, but no more.” Aly could tell the boy was making an effort to speak slowly, in a way he’d understand. “The dahkta,” he started. Doctor. “He come to put up the solah panels and ended up stayin’ . . .”
Outside was a swell of voices—the Tasinn were close. The boy stood up and went toward the door. Aly nearly reached out a hand to stop him, but didn’t want to frighten the kid into yelling. He disappeared through the door and out of sight.
And now, outside, there was the sound of boots scuffling against the ground. The flimsy mask over Aly’s mouth was damp with his sweat. He could hear the Tasinn demand to know whether the boy had seen anyone running this direction. Aly held his breath. But the boy only responded with one word.
“Nyah.” Not here.
And then the sound of the boots retreated.