Aldo's Fantastical Movie Palace by Jonathan Friesen Page B

and a hideous buzzard took off toward the east.
    Scout slumped back onto the road.
    â€œWhat did you say?”
    â€œUh … nothing. I … I said nothing.”
    Scout frowned. “Then why did it come? What were you doing when you first saw her?”
    Chloe mentally retraced her steps. “Thinking of home.”
    â€œMemories,” Scout whispered. “The Senseri are drawn to your memories. Understand this: any Retinyan man or beast that turns, that sides with Vaepor, will, like It, start to lose its own shape to take on other forms. Do not trust any appearance you see. Only when anxious do Senseri lapse back to who they really are.”
    Chloe’s face was blank.
    Scout stepped nearer. “I do not know what men fight for in your world. But here, the battle is for our thoughts, our memories. It wants them. It’s scared of them. For no free-thinking man will follow It.” Hebreathed deeply. “So as long as you didn’t speak, as long as you stayed on the road, the Senseri saw your scar and likely thought you just another Lost One. It might suspect, but it doesn’t know.”
    â€œKnow what?”
    â€œI’m not sure. But for a Senseri to stray so far from the palace, you’re more valuable than I’d imagined.”
    Chloe bit her lip and winced. “My foot did brush grass —”
    Scout’s eyes widened and he grabbed her arm. “Then we run.”
    They ran east, following the path of the bird.
    Between rapid breaths, Scout said, “They know visitors have broken through. They know of your friend. They will come for you. We need to reach Medahon.”

CHAPTER
14
    O N THEY RAN , until Chloe’s thighs stung and her lungs ached, and then, suddenly, they didn’t hurt at all. The second wind she usually experienced in the 800-meter breaststroke wafted over her, and her pace quickened. But it soon disappeared, and she slowed to a limp beside Scout.
    â€œI can’t, Scout. I need to rest for —”
    Chloe’s toe caught on cobblestone, and she collapsed on the road. Scout bent over and gently lifted her to her feet.
    â€œThere.”
    Lights burned brightly, and even from a distance, Medahon loomed, a great fortress city with jagged walls poking into the sky.
    â€œWe’ll make it,” Scout said. “Just a couple miles, and —”
    â€œAnd then what? You’ll leave me too?”
    Scout exhaled hard and grabbed her hand. “No. I can no longer leave.” His face was grim. “I think your business and my business might be one and the same.”
    A horn blared. Not a sharp trumpet call, but a moaning roar. For minutes, it filled the air with sadness, and then it stopped — at least Chloe thought it did. The tone roared on inside her brain.
    â€œWhat was that?”
    â€œThe Call. Tomorrow the Pilgrimage begins. The dark march to the pool will start, and the entire city will empty.”
    â€œOh, I wish I didn’t have to see this.”
    Scout raised his eyebrows. “Yes, but understand what is horrible for Retinya is in this case good for you. Medahon will be in panicked preparation for the morning’s departure. In the chaos, you will be hard to find.” He glanced at the sky. “That is, if we can get into the city before the gates close.”
    â€œThen please, let’s go!” Chloe said.
    Filled with new strength, they pushed forward toward granite walls, which closer up were only taller and more imposing.
    I never meant to write them this big
.
    â€œThe walls of Medahon.” Scout huffed. “Theywithstood many attacks. But now men have forgotten why they fought.”
    An unnatural shadow spread over them quickly, turning day to night. Chloe slowed to glance up, but Scout grasped her arm and quickened the pace. A thunderclap rippled through the cloud that eclipsed the city and lightning jagged across the darkening sky. Greenish funnels swirled overhead, but