Legacy of Fire (The Blaze Trilogy - Book #1)

Chapter 12

Parker pulls us along the path, back towards the main entrance of the camp. Then he turns, orientating us so that we face a huge, bustling mass of people. 

“Welcome to Market Square,” he announces, spreading his arms wide. Rows of huts and buildings sit jumbled along the sides of the square, but unlike the squalor of the tightly packed Northern buildings, these structures breathe with vitality, as if their squeeze comes from friendship rather than lack of space. The tall redwood trees tower above us, their roots curling slightly into the area as they watch the commotion below. Dark haired Terran flit through the buildings, and the noisy jingle of market chatter that lifts above the street. Louder voices rise above the others, and I see market vendors hawking to their customers, reaching out with colourful fruits and vegetables, luscious goods and tiny trinkets.

I spin around the place in amazement. It feels so liberated.

We weave our way through the crowd, my ears ringing from the buzzing that surrounds us. Then I hear a sharp shout, “Eh, Park!” 

A squat old man waves at Parker from across the street. He’s sitting on a stool by his shop, fruits and vegetables bursting out of their displays in a rainbow of colour. The man reaches into one of his crates and pulls out an apple, chucking it across the path. Parker reaches up and dextrously snatches it out of the air, biting into it with one smooth motion.

He laughs, waving the apple high. “Thanks Frank!” he calls back. I feel my stomach rumble in protest. As if reading my mind, Parker calls back to the man, “A little something for my friends? They just arrive through the forest.” 

The old man gives us a wide, toothy grin, and fishes his hand into the crate. In a flash Zander and I both have apples cradled into our palms, and I smile back at the man. “Evo be with you!” he shouts through the crowd.

This Evo guy is starting to sound like more than a silly story.

Parker leads us away from the busy square, slipping us down another dirt path. Shifting groups of Terran peek at us with barely suppressed curiosity as we walk by, and I can’t help but notice that I’m the only one who looks Western. All of these people have hair as black as night. 

Parker eventually stops in front of a large, modern building, motioning us inside the glass doors. However on the inside, rich marble extends from every direction, inlayed into the floor and carved along spiralling pillars. The sounds of our footsteps echo against the cool floor, breaking the peaceful silence of the space. 

And then he leads us further inside and it’s all I can do not to gasp. 

Rows and rows of dark mahogany bookshelves line the walls from floor to ceiling. Thousands upon thousands of books, their thick musty smell filling my nose, and it’s like I’m back in Mendell’s office, back in that moment where my grandfather told me that there was hope for my survival. Before my father’s life was taken. 

I may have survived - but at what cost?

A sickly feeling suddenly rises in my throat and I want to leave, I want to leave this beautiful place that reminds me too much of what I’ve lost. I turn on my heel and try to exit the building but a hand roots me in place. 

Zander stares back at me, concern clear on his features. “What’s wrong?” he whispers.

“I can’t be here,” I tell him through gritted teeth. But before I can push past him, Parker spins to face us, and Zander and I both snap back to our normal positions. 

“Welcome to the Everwood library,” Parker spreads his arms across the enormous room.  “After the South regained control of Aeon, they tried to destroy ever last bit of text that gave insight as to what life was like before the Collapse. For the past thousand years, Everwood has not only been a home for a banished people, it’s also a haven for banished words.”