Josin L McQuein - Meridian

After the water comes the streak of light Cherish attached to Tobin, but it’s only Whisper repeating his name. No one could have told her that name but Cherish.

Somehow Cherish can talk to them without me hearing it. I can’t shake the feeling that my Fade-self is lurking in the secret parts of my memory, using my own brain to plot against me. If I can’t hear her, I can’t anticipate what she’s planning. I can’t protect myself.

This is my body; I should have the advantage, not her.

“This looks familiar,” Tobin says of the deeper parts of the Dark. The relief ’s so thick in his voice, I could pluck it from the air like fruit from the Arbor. “Either it’s all running together, or I recognize this place.”

He’s right. The monotony has broken, giving way to familiar trees with distinct roots and knots that mark the gates of the human-neighborhood-turned-Fade-settlement. The first houses are visible as swaths of white and blue, where metal siding has resisted both Fade and time. Birds a light on the eaves, trilling out a sound that can’t really be called a song, but it’s comforting. They sound like Rue’s real name. Flowers and ornate fungi spring up out of the ground as we pass, creating a path to lead us the final steps.

The color’s a spontaneous display of relief. Tension settles out of the air now that we’ve reached the place the Fade consider safe. They were worried we might not make it.

What could scare a Fade in the Dark?

“I know I was preoccupied the last time we were here, but this is . . . not like it used to be ,” Tobin says.

More guards like Whisper and Dog mill the fringes in pairs. Security patrols . The loose nanites, which usually hang from the trees as moss, now form a fence, joining the trees together. The leaves rustle overhead, and Tobin points up. More regimented Fade are folded into the branches, clinging to the trunks with the claws that only appear on their hands when they need to climb. They’re all on alert.

We gain followers, so that by the time we reach the middle of the neighborhood, and the crowd waiting for us there, another has us penned in from behind.

“Bolt!” I cry, recognizing him in the group. I wave him over, but he turns and disappears. “Wait! Come back!”

“I really hope I was wrong about this being a setup,” Tobin says as one of the few Fade we know on sight deserts us.

“Me, too.”

Otherwise, I don’t think we’re going anywhere.

Maybe ever.

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