Tevin's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Tevin crouched behind a ridge of red stone and watched the lake shrink. His wrists ached inside the glowing blue shackles the Vael had locked on him back at the camp. He had been a nobody once, a man who picked beetles off fallen logs. Then the Vael took him, and he watched another prisoner get carried out limp and peaceful, shackles still glowing. He decided he would not be the next one. That was why he was here, on the wrong side of the ridge, leading four people he barely knew toward a power core that might get him off this planet for good. Below them, a machine the size of a house crawled along the shore on tank treads. A clear tank on its back sloshed with lake water. A long curved hose sucked at the shallows and pulled the level down by the minute. Purple Vael workers moved around it, six that Tevin could count, tails dragging in the mud. "Core's in the shed," the old engineer whispered. He tapped his goggles. The blue lenses flared. "Behind the machine. Small building, tin roof." "You're sure," Tevin said. "I built half the parts they stole," Ambrose said. "I'm sure." Riley shifted her makeshift gun against her shoulder. "Six workers. No commander." "Yet," Harlen said. The red rig over his mouth hissed once. Elina crouched beside Tevin. Her stained glass wings folded tight to her back so the sun would not catch them. "Go low. Follow the hose line. They won't look down." Tevin nodded because he did not trust his voice. He led them off the ridge on his bare feet, quiet across the cracked mud. The machine's siphon covered the sound of their steps. They passed close enough to smell the Vael, wet and sour. One worker turned. Elina touched Tevin's shoulder and they froze behind a treaded wheel. The worker scratched its antenna and turned back to the tank. They reached the shed. Tevin pressed his ear to the tin. Nothing. He lifted the latch and eased the door open. Ambrose pushed past him. The shed was empty. Bare dirt floor. A single bolt on the wall where something heavy had hung. Four clean squares in the dust where a crate had sat that morning. "No," Ambrose said. He touched the bolt. "No, no. It was here." "They moved it," Riley said. "Today," Harlen said. He crouched and pressed a finger to the dust. "Warm." Outside, the siphon changed pitch. A low horn sounded across the lakebed. Tevin turned. Through the crack in the door he saw the six workers stop and lift their heads at once, antennae swinging toward the shed. Elina drew her wing forward. The sharp edge caught the light. "They know we're here," she said.