The Gate Run: Legends of Shadear (Shri Moongale Book 1) Page 2

  Glancing around, she dove behind the first building she saw. Her heart was pounding. She closed her eyes for a while, waiting for someone to notice her. When nothing happened, she dared to open them again.

  Her jaw dropped in amazement. The street was carpeted with stones. There were houses, such big houses, made of wood. They were nothing like the small, rusty boxes that she and her family were forced to live in. Colorful curtains hung in the windows. Yes, Shri had surely heard about the curtains. They were beautiful!

  She glanced over her shoulder, her body freezing as her heart skipped a beat.

  The gate was closed.

  She leaned back against the building’s wall, concern shading her thoughts. She would have to wait until the gate opened again, and then she could sneak back. Was her mama home already? Shri didn’t want to make her angry. Maybe the Gate Run ceremony had ended. It was hard to tell how much time had passed. She looked around and saw that the shadows were already longer.

  Waiting for the gate to be opened, she got bored and leaned casually against the building, scratching a scab on her knee and eyeing the exit. It remained closed. She heard quiet chattering, laughter, cartwheels rattling; nothing too threatening or weird. The Iron Wall loomed above her. It looked the same from this side: large and uninviting. What if life in the Fourth Ring really wasn’t different at all?

  Now that she was here, she could surely look around, couldn’t she? A grin on her face, she peeked from behind the corner. The sun shone on the free people as they went about their daily errands, and Shri couldn’t help herself. Boldly, she stepped to the street. How jealous Susu would be?

  The smooth rocks felt warm to her bare feet. People passed by, ignoring her. They were so clean and tall and beautiful, and all wore well-fitting clothes. They smiled as they went about their business. Surely, this was a paradise! The sun glimmered on the walls of the houses, which had actual windows with wooden hatches, which could be closed or opened, not like the clumsy holes on the side of her box. She explored the street, her mouth open and eyes wide. She tried to see everything, so she could tell Susu. Next, she would find a senatai and ask him to do magic.

  A child jumped in front of Shri, startling her. The girl was about her age, wearing a beautiful light brown dress, and she wore actual shoes. Her black hair was tied down with ribbons on both sides of her head.

  She tilted her face and scrunched her nose. “You’re dirty. Who are you?” Before Shri could answer, the girl yelled over her shoulder, “Mama! Is this one of the Pit slaves? What is she doing here? She smells.”

  Shri opened her mouth to say that she was no slave, but before she got the words out, a pair of gruff hands yanked her backward. Shri howled as the man tossed her over his shoulder, kicking her feet in a vain attempt to get away.

  “Be still!” the man growled.

  Her bread falling to the street, Shri stared in horror as the man carried her away. The girl looked directly into Shri’s eyes. Approaching the bread, she made an evil smile and slammed her shoe onto it.

  Our supper...

  Shri squirmed, fighting to free herself. She recognized her captor by his red and black clothes. He was a pike holder, one of the city’s tyrannical guards.

  “You little rat!” he snapped. “This isn’t your place to be! I’m taking you back to your stinky pit!”

  He stomped through the gate with Shri on his shoulder, and just like that, she was back in the Pit. The gate closed, and the Fourth Ring was shut to her. Her little face scrunched with disappointment.

  “Stop it, you rat! I’m gonna take you home and beat you in front of your momma!”

  Shri pounded his back with her tiny hands. “I’m no rat!”

  The man laughed. “Yes, you are! A filthy rat!”

  “Then you should know that rats bite!” Shri shouted, and sunk her teeth into the man’s hand as hard as she could. He howled, his grip on Shri faltering. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she sprinted as fast as her little legs could carry her.

  She ran for a long time, turning corners and sneaking through shadows. Finally, she slowed down when she was certain she had lost the pike holder. The streets were still unfamiliar. She was now lost, tired, and hungry. A sob caught in her throat. Determinately, she swallowed it away.

  Crying wouldn’t help her.

  She turned another corner and sighed in amazement when she realized where she was: The Safety Net. She had never been this far from home, all the way at the other end of the Fifth Ring! She had only heard about the net, from bigger kids. This was the only place in the Pit where you could look outside, into the passageway that split the five rings all the way to the Spike.

  Shri wandered closer. There were a few other people there too, standing quietly, staring outside. They were silent, like shadows. The Safety Net was as high as the walls around her, reaching towards the sky. It was an actual net, but it was magically woven, impenetrable. She laid her hand on it to make sure, and, yes, it was as hard as the Iron Wall. She peered through to find that she could see people walking behind it, people from other rings! They didn’t even glance at the Pit folk behind the Net, except for one boy who fixed his eyes on Shri’s. But as soon as his mother realized where he was looking, she quickly yanked him away.

  A new movement caught Shri’s eye.

  Carriages. Many of them, rolling toward the center of the city.

  In each carriage sat one or two black-hooded figures. They were senatai, Shri was sure of it. Their faces were like stone. They looked so glorious and fierce, their eyes fixed forward. With them were warriors, scars on their faces and cruel-looking weapons on their laps. They sat on the back of the carriages, their legs hanging over the boards.

  As the last carriage rolled past Shri, the hooded figure within lifted her hand and the carriage stopped. She lowered her hood and revealed her dark, glowing skin. Shri took a breath.

  The woman was glorious.

  The senatai observed the people behind the net and then looked directly at Shri, whose heart beat so loudly she feared it might jump out of her chest. She tried to take a step back, but she couldn’t move. The senatai gazed at her, eyes shining like fierce, glowing candles, mesmerizing the little girl. Shri struggled to breathe. The whole world stopped. All she could see were those eyes.

  Then, she heard something inside her head.

  “You? A little girl? So small you are, yet I see them. So many sparkles... Yes, stay strong, little one. Prepare and practice. Become fast, become strong. When you’re ready, we will meet.”

  After the voice withered away, Shri blinked and took a deep breath. The carriages had moved on, but the senatai shot her a glance one more time before settling her hood over her head and turning away.

  “There you are, little rat!”

  Big hands grabbed Shri again. She cried out as the man yanked her arm and twisted her hand. Her wrist markings told him everything he needed to know about her. The one big ring signified that she belonged in the Pit, the outermost ring, and her housing area was written inside it.

  “Housing Area Five? Are you kidding me? That’s twelve blocks away!” He grabbed Shri by her cheeks and squeezed painfully, bringing tears into her eyes. His bearded face hovered in front of her. “Your family is gonna pay for this, rat. I’ll take every mark they have, and it’s all your fault!”

  She screamed as the pike holder slammed her over his shoulder and began the long trek back to her home.

  PART 1- The Pit

  CHAPTER 1

  Twelve years later

  SHRI’S LIFE WAS GUIDED by one thing: she wanted to get into the Spike.

  The tower stood tall and mighty in front of her, so black it nearly disappeared into the night. It cast its ominous shadow over the city of Ironflare, as it had for hundreds of years. For Shri, it was a sign of captivity, but also the potential for freedom and a symbol of power. It was the key that could open the world to her, a world that had been untouchable.

  Sighing, Shri turned her b
ack to the tower and resumed her night run. She needed to focus. Monsoon season had started, and the rooftops of the housing boxes were shiny and wet. Maybe the desert had already grown green, but it couldn’t be seen from here on the rooftops. She would have to climb the Rag Tower to see over the outer iron wall. Quickening her pace as she approached the nearest edge, Shri leapt into the air, soaring over the alley below and landing on the roof of the next box. She flexed her knees, remaining in a silent crouch as she listened for sounds in the night. She had to be careful, for she didn’t want to be seen by the pike holders who patrolled the Pit.

  Standing, she scanned her surroundings, and continued her run. She made her way softly across the second roof, her shoes making only the softest sounds. The next jump put her on top of Market Hall, which was the only building in the Pit made of rock. She touched down smoothly and rolled out of her landing with a rounded back. Without delay, she sprung to her feet and continued onward. Market Hall was a long building, covering the length of the Pit’s rundown bazaar. Shri ran quietly along the curvature of its roof. Rock felt different under her feet, so unlike the iron surface of the boxes.

  She recalled her unfortunate trip to the Fourth Ring as a child. There, the houses were all made from stone or wood, much sturdier than the eroding boxes in the Fifth Ring. She had always wondered, if the Fourth Ring was so much finer, how amazing the Second Ring would be, or even the First Ring, which lay under the shadow of the Spike.

  Or inside the tower itself.

  Shri arrived on the edge of the roof and performed a front flip down onto the ground. Making sure the square was empty, she quickly crossed it, hugging the wall as she headed towards the Rag Tower in the center of the production area. Upon reaching it, she circled around the side and started to climb the ladder up to the tower’s roof. Her heart was pounding from the strain, but she persisted.

  She had to be in shape.

  She wouldn’t give up.

  Ever.

  For as long as she could remember, Shri had dreamed of getting into the Spike and becoming a senatai, a user of magic. Since the day she had first seen the Safety Net and the passageway behind it, she had returned several times. The passageway was the only place where she could see anyone other than the Pit folk. It split the rings like an arrow shot from afar and cut a path to the center of Ironflare. In their duties to protect all people, the senatai and their warriors, the drokashai, used the Passageway to get to and from the Spike on their travels into the wilderness. To Shri, the drokashai looked wild and powerful. They carried peculiar weapons, and some had ugly scars across their faces. They were the companions, protectors, and assistants of the senatai.

  But Shri had eyes only for the magic users. They were so calm, so powerful sitting in their carriages with their dark cloaks wrapped around them, their eyes focused with intensity. She had never forgotten the words of the senatai who had spoken to her from the other side of the Safety Net all those years ago.

  “Stay strong. Prepare and practice. When you’re ready, we will meet.”

  The older Shri had become, the less time she spent gazing through the Safety Net. It was far from her home, and she was an adult now. With long hours of work, she had little opportunity to stand around and dream. All of her spare time went to training.

  She climbed the final steps of the ladder, onto the high summit of the Rag Tower. Her hands shook from the strain. The highest point of the tower was her and Susu’s favorite spot. Here, they dreamed of the wide world they would someday see, and of the different life they would someday lead. They would see all the things Merrilon had been telling them about since they were children. Susu still swore his stories were made up, but Shri believed in them.

  She wiped a strand of hair from her cheek and faced the Spike. The black tower was so far away that it seemed unreachable, but every time she looked at it, she swore it was calling her. It pulled at her like a magnet. From the day the senatai had spoken to her, Shri had been overcome by the desire to get into the Spike and be trained as a magic user. Was the call from the senatai specially for her? Or were there others? Had the woman spoken to someone else too? Shri had been so little at the time, she sometimes wondered if she imagined the voice. But real or not, the words still burned in her mind, reminding her of what she could one day become.

  Shri pulled her eyes away from the Spike and looked the other way, outside the Iron Wall. Sand stretched as far as she could see, gathered in dunes around the city of Ironflare. She knew the desert surrounded the city, even if she couldn’t see in all directions from the top of the Rag Tower. The tall iron walls between the rings blocked the view to the other side. The rain and the night now darkened the hills, but soon they would flourish fresh and green... for a few weeks, that is, until the vegetation perished when the dry season came upon the city once more. Outside the city, the grand desert was all that existed, never-ending as far as anyone in the Pit was aware. No one Shri knew had ever seen what lay beyond it. All she had was her father’s stories. The need to know more, to see more, pounded so hard inside that she felt it would someday rip her apart.

  The only people Pit folk ever met from the inner rings were pike holders or advocates, those who gathered the supplies which were made in the production area. Otherwise, the Pit managed itself. People from the inner rings never spoke of their homes, and the people in the Pit knew nothing but rumors and stories about what lay behind the fourth, third, or second iron wall.

  Pit folk could buy themselves a wrist-stamp to move to the Fourth Ring... if they had the marks. Perhaps if Shri hadn’t snuck into the Fourth Ring as a child and gotten fined for breaking the rules, her family could have collected the fee for stamps. Father and Mother had been forced to give up every mark they had saved, and so the dream to live in the Fourth Ring was crushed. The shame of Shri’s mistake still ate away at her.

  One time, there had been a man who was thrown out of the Fourth Ring and into the Pit. When he arrived, he never spoke another word. Everyone thought he was crazy, but Remedy Rilda, Shri’s teacher in the art of healing, had told her that the man did not speak because his tongue had been cut out.

  “Better to stay here in the Pit, where nobody gives you a thought,” Remedy Rilda used to say. “What do we know of the other rings? Could well be worse there.”

  Shri knew nothing of the other rings or the world beyond the sand.

  But she would find out.

  The sky over the desert had grown lighter, and Shri needed to begin her run back home. It would be morning in a couple of hours, and she would need some sleep before her duties with Rilda, and as a coal girl at the Forge after that. Giving the Spike one last look, she disappeared below the eaves of the Rag Tower and began her climb down.

  “Gimme that jar!” Remedy Rilda shouted in her ragged voice.

  Shri tore her eyes away from the horrible vision in front of her. Swallowing her anxiety, she handed Rilda a small brown jar.

  “Not that one!” Rilda snapped. “Stupid girl. The gray one!”

  Shri bit her tongue as she gave Rilda the correct jar. The old crone was terribly cranky again. Her eyes were bloodshot, like they were almost every morning. She had become even thinner lately, and Shri could see the angular cheekbones pressing out from her gaunt face. Her eyes were buried deep in her brow, ringed by shadows.

  “Well, come on!” Rilda insisted. “Keep the girl still so I can check the wound. Oh, and don’t stand in front of the light. You’re a hopeless slacker, Shri Moongale. You better try harder. Or do you want me to send you away? You wanna go back to being just another coal girl, eh?”

  “No, Rilda,” Shri said.

  “The only reason you’re still here is ‘cause you get them sick to feel calm. I dunno what that’s ‘bout, but you’ve no head for the healing, no, you don’t. I like your father, he’s a handsome fellow, he is. That’s why you’re still here. Now do as I say!”

  “Yes, Rilda.”

  Shri stood by the table where little Sibilia lay.
The eight-year-old girl was shaking from head to toe, sobbing her heart out. A nasty gash marred her stomach. It looked like she had been stabbed. Her mother had left her in Rilda’s care and gone back to work, unable to risk losing marks for her big family. She had told them that Sibilia had tripped and gored herself on a sharp rock, but Shri could guess what really happened. Sibilia’s father was a known drunk and a troublemaker. She accepted that he beat his kids, but this...this was too much. Sibilia’s family tried to survive with the marks they made, but Shri had heard that the pike holders already warned the father about his behavior and reduced his marks. There wouldn’t be another warning; the marks would simply stop coming. If he couldn’t manage his job as the Rag Tower’s carrier, he would be taken by the pike holders. Where they took law-breakers, no one knew, but they never came back.

  Shri stroked Sibilia’s black hair and looked into her terrified eyes. Tears watered her dirty cheeks as the pool of red grew larger underneath her. Through the pain and loss of blood, she could only manage short, shallow breaths.

  “Shh... It’s alright, Sibilia.”

  “It hurts!”

  “I know.” Shri threw Rilda a desperate gaze, hoping for an optimistic response, but Rilda only shook her head quietly. There was nothing they could do to save Sibilia. Shri inhaled a deep breath to keep her voice steady and laid her hand on Sibilia’s forehead. “It’s gonna end soon, I promise.”

  “I don’ wanna die,” Sibilia said, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m scared of the demons... I don’ wanna sail with any demons.”

  “Sibilia,” Shri said, “you’re a lovely little girl, and when it’s your time to go to the Underworld, there will be no demons in your boat. There are never demons in sweet little girls’ boats.”

  “Really?” Her pale face showed a glimmer of hope.

  Shri swallowed a lump in her throat. “Really. Everything will be fine. Just close your eyes and sleep. Good, just like that, Sibilia. It’ll be fine. Soon, there will be no more pain.” Her voice trembled.