Page 25 of The Sunlit Man

Nomad held his tongue.

“Perhaps Adonalsiumhasremembered us,” Zeal said. “Maybe that is why the Sunlit Man is here.”

“Call me Nomad, if you have to call me anything,” he interjected.

They barely seemed to notice. “If he can get us past the doorway…” Jeffrey Jeffrey said, then looked to him. “Can you activate this disc?Open the door? The Cinder King has tried for years and has never managed it. He can find the door, but not pass inside.”

Could he? “I’m almost one hundred percent confident I can get that door open,” Nomad said. “I’m not from the place beyond, like you think, but…I do know the people inside. Some of their kind, at least. I speak their language.”

Contemplation met his eyes. She understood, as the others didn’t seem to, about other languages. She believed. Gazing into those aged eyes, so full of hope, he found himself slipping. His ancient self reasserting just a little.

“Look,” he said to her, “I…don’t think you’ll find what you want beyond that door. It’s…not a refuge, like you want it to be.”

“Do you know that?” she asked. “For certain?”

“No,” he admitted. Theremightbe a large installation there. Storms, it could even be abandoned. That seemed very improbable. Most likely it was a survey ship, full of researchers investigating that sunlight. Such ships were tiny. Barely enough room for a complement of two dozen scientists.

“No,” he repeated, “I don’t know for certain. But…I have a lot of experience with this. I don’t think that key will bring you salvation.”

The group shared glances.

“We need to try anyway, don’t we?” Confidence said. Words he was surprised to hear from her, considering her objections earlier. “This really is our only hope?”

“We have dwindling power,” Jeffrey Jeffrey said. “And the Cinder King is enraged. No, we will not live much longer. Thisisour only hope.”

The others nodded. Storms. Well, Nomad had tried. He had spoken up. That was enough.

He’d do his part. Get them to the doorway, then open it for them. After that…well, they were on their own. And he would bear no guilt. It wasn’t his fault they were determined to pin their hopes on an impossibility.

“We must ask the people before we commit for certain,” Compassion said softly. “If it pleases the others, I request this course.”

“I agree with that, in wisdom,” Contemplation said. “There are no tyrants in Beacon, only family. We will bring this to the people and let them decide if we should risk the possible reward of entering the Refuge or if we should instead surrender to the Cinder King. I suspect the presence of this stranger will help them choose the former.”

“Great,” Nomad said. “I need something to eat that isn’t mud. Something to drink that isn’t raining on me. Something to wear that isn’t hanging in shreds. Consider that my fee for translating that disc for you.”

“And do you have a fee for helping us get to the door?” Rebeke asked.

“I just want into that Refuge,” Nomad said. “Also, I’ll want these bracers off my arms.”

“We don’t have the keys to—” Zeal started.

Nomad glared at him. “You hacked the Cinder King’s system and knocked out his ember people—”

“They’re called the Charred,” Rebeke said.

“—whatever they are, you knocked them all out at once. You absolutely can take these off me.”

Zeal looked away.

“We have yet to discuss,” Confidence said, “how you feigned the inability to speak merely to spy upon our workings.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Nomad said, “when you meet someone new. Eh, Rebeke?”

She glared at him.

He smiled and winked. Then he held out his arms. “So how do I get them off?”

“I’ll fetch the attuner,” Zeal said with a sigh. “With your blessing, Greater Good.”

---