he still saw this as a chance to absolve Sophie of any wrongdoing. The eerie, mournful cry of some unseen bird drifted through the cool morning air, making Maia tremble. Even while she stood next to her grandfather, bathed in the warm sunlight, Maia suddenly felt cold and utterly lonely.
“But what if Uncle Alasdair is right? What if the truth is not what you want it to be? What if she really was . . . dishonorable?” Maia asked, tensely poking at the dull-brown dust that covered the road with her toe.
“We’ll learn to face the truth when we find it, Maia” was his solemn reply.
“I won’t promise you anything, Dada,” Maia said in a voice as determined and as somber as her grandfather’s. “I shall not go looking for Sophie’s footprints.”
He shook his head and looked away. Then he turned back with a smile. “Principal Pomewege told me of the prize they are offering to the winners—an enormous sum, enough to rebuild the entire power grid from Shiloh to Appian. At least we could build a dozen more wind turbines for our village. If there is any truth in the rumors of the new energy curfews, can you imagine how much that will help Appian?”
“Yes.” Maia forced a slow nod. Just in case she failed to sabotage the Initiative, this could be a reason good enough to keep her going. Maybe that would be a way to atone for Sophie’s deeds, a way of giving something back to the people her mother had betrayed.
A lingering doubt still persisted in one corner of her mind. “You really believe they’ll let me go after that and not ship me off to Ti?”
Dada pursed his lips, focusing his eyes far beyond the dusty wastelands. “The principal gave me his word that you will come back.”
“When do I have to leave?”
“Tomorrow morning. The pickup point is at the Troughs; that’s where the Holding Pod will land.” Dada fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a small metal cube. “This is what you’ll need to present to the guards to identify yourself.”
“So, tomorrow it is?” Maia whispered, studying the shiny cube for a moment before slipping it into the pocket of her coat. “Then again, it’s only six months.”
A small smile crept onto her grandfather’s face. “Yes, then you’ll be free to come back and go to ThulaSu like you’ve always wanted. And who knows, maybe first impressions are not always the right ones. Maybe you’ll make some good friends while you’re up there.”
Maia sighed. She was not about to start nurturing any unrealistic hopes like her Dada. She was clear about her goals: she had to make sure she was thrown out of the Initiative soon because that was the only path to her freedom.
9: At the Troughs
The moon was still bright in the northern sky when Emmy woke Maia. A gnarled knot of clouds had gathered on the southern horizon like a brood of mourners and the colossal, blood-red crescent of Xif loomed like a threat amidst their dark sullen mass. A new dawn was still hours away, and the night was holding on to its last moments, just as dearly as Maia wanted to cling to everything around her. She said her good-byes quickly, trying her best to ignore the bristling pain in her throat. Hard as Maia struggled to make the parting short and simple, the hushed farewells and the teary eyes made the air dismal and gloomy.
“I’ll be back soon,” Maia whispered to herself as she walked down the porch steps, her grip over Bellator’s hilt tightening as she pledged.
A numbing sadness settled on Maia’s heart as she took her seat atop the carriage and let her eyes sweep across the moonlit valley of Appian. Herc set off shortly, taking the ring-road around Shiloh to reach the Troughs of Anubi—a large area speckled with mysterious mossy depressions just where the road circled past the city and turned toward the Dorgashian Folds in the North, an area held sacred by the Solianese since olden times. Myths spoke of the Troughs as the final resting place of spirits
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