Nightrise

fountains were dry, and there were craters everywhere, suggesting that the whole place had been bombed from the air.
    Scar lifted a hand, reining in her horse. All four of diem stopped. She turned to Jamie.
    "Don't do anything," she warned him. "Don't say anything. Just play your part. It's important."
    Jamie wanted to snap at her. He was worn out after the long journey. His throat was parched and he stank of his own sweat and the man-scorpion's blood. He was fed up with being pushed around. But he nodded, forcing himself to stay in control.
    People had begun to appear, moving slowly toward them. At first there were just a handful of them —
    four or five here, another few on the other side. But as Jamie watched, more and more of them came forward, closing in on them from all sides. They were all dressed in the same manner, with long jackets, headdresses, and leather belts, although some of the women wore wide-sleeved, embroidered gowns that came down to their feet. Many of them carried curving swords and round, pointed shields. They were every age, some as young as eleven and twelve. Soon there were more than a hundred of them, filing into the square, nobody making any sound. None of them looked even slightly welcoming. Their movements were heavy, their faces tired. It occurred to Jamie that they didn't need to prepare for battle.
    These people were already defeated.
    But as they drew closer, an extraordinary change came over them. It was almost as if a magic wand had been waved. They had seen something and they couldn't believe it. A sense of excitement rippled through them. Jamie saw it in their faces. With every step they seemed to find new strength. They were gazing at something with a sense of shock and wonder, and now they were smiling. Some of them were raising their hands in salute. And then Jamie realized what they had seen.
    Him.
    Scar pulled herself up to her full height. "Do you believe me now?" she called out. "We told you the truth. He's here. We found him."
    "Sapling!" someone shouted.
    And at that, the entire crowd began to cheer. Swords were raised and banners appeared as if out of nowhere, the blue five-pointed stars fluttering as they were waved above their heads. All of the people were hurrying forward, wanting to be the first to reach him, the children at the front, the adults looking up at him with new hope alive in their eyes. At that moment, Jamie was grateful to Scar. He had no idea what was going on but she had warned him what he had to do. Play the part. Explanations would come later. He raised a hand, acknowledging the crowd, and the cheers grew louder, bouncing off the remaining walls so that it almost seemed as if the city had come alive once again as some of its old joy returned to the streets.
    Scar kicked her horse and they jolted slowly forward, the crowd parting — but only reluctantly — to let them pass. They dismounted at the circular temple and went in. The cheering crowd followed them as far as the columns but stopped here as if this was a line they were not allowed to cross. Jamie and his four companions were on their own once again but he could still hear the people out on the square, calling out one name — his name — Sapling, their voices rising into the rapidly darkening sky.

    ***
    "All I've ever known is war," Scar said.
    They had lit a fire. There was plenty of wood to salvage in the ruined city and Finn, Erin, and Corian had piled it up so that it looked almost like a funeral pyre. Jamie was afraid that it might attract the enemy. Perhaps the fly soldiers might return. But Scar had assured him that they were safe. The outer walls would hide most of the light, and the sky was dark enough to hide the smoke as it trickled out through a hole in the roof.
    There was nothing inside the temple. They were in a round space — it reminded Jamie of a circus —
    protected by brick walls that rose up about forty feet all around them. There had been frescoes once, strange symbols and pictures of animals and birds. But they had almost worn away. Or perhaps they had been purposefully erased.
    Jamie had at last been able to wash — using water drawn from a well. Nobody had offered him any privacy and he had been reluctant to undress, especially with Scar around. Fortunately, she had disappeared for a time and none of the men had so much as glanced in his direction. The water was muddy before he even got into it, but even so he had been grateful for it, washing away the grime