Ember was going to be sick. She was vaguely aware of Marcus coming to stand by her side; of his hand on her shoulder as he leaned down to tell her to collect herself.
With great effort, she pulled herself to her feet and dried her eyes. He’s right—there would be time to think and reflect later, but she might never have the chance to speak to Mr. Ernold again.
The former mayor was looking at her with soft eyes, and for a moment his unnerving air was almost forgotten. “You’re the same species as the Golden Lance… are you not?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” Ember said with a hitch in her voice. It would forever be a cruel reminder of how she had hated her mother.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Ernold said, his eyes awash with sorrow.
“Sorry? Why?” Marcus asked, concern creeping into his voice.
“The venom is a terrible burden. I saw it only once… when we asked her to demonstrate on a rabbit.” He shook his head. “How the poor creature suffered… its very flesh melted from its bones. We used her ill after we saw what she could do.”
“What do you mean?” Ember asked.
“That man, Corax… he treated her as a weapon, and I allowed it. She was saving so many,” Mr. Ernold shook his head, pausing to take another pull from the metal apparatus. “No wonder she didn’t tell us about her family.”
“So he did know her,” Ember breathed, “he lied.” If the mayor had noticed the resemblance right away, there was no way that it had escaped Corax. Did he invite me to join the university because he recognized me?
“That crow serves no one but himself and his idea of the greater good. It would be wise not to put your trust in him.”
Ember paused to consider his words. “Thank you for the warning. But there’s something else I must know—how exactly did my mother die?”
“You saw her body?” he asked with a heavy voice. She nodded. “I had hoped… she might have survived.”
Ember passed a hand over her face, attempting to hide her disappointment. “Then you must not know how she died, either. But how? You were her supervisor.”
He sighed. “I was the mayor at the beginning of her service… but not the end. I was long since pushed out by the time she vanished.”
“Pushed out?” Marcus prompted.
Mr. Ernold spread his arms wide. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that my affliction takes on a different flavor than most other Linnaeans. My presence is unsettling… trespassing.”
His words reflected Ember’s thoughts so closely that she couldn’t stop the agreement from showing on her face. “We apologize.”
Mr. Ernold waved her concern away. “I am not offended. I am a reptile, like you,” he explained, “but I am a prehistoric species… one that disappeared from this earth a hundred million years ago.”
Ember and Marcus exchanged a subtle look, and the corner of the former mayor’s mouth turned up in a wry smile. “I see that you don’t believe me. I spent my first years here… when I was not yet too weak… researching old civilizations. There are stories about the ancient earth hidden within their lore… of fossils and mythical beasts…”
He trailed off, panting as if from a great effort, and took another deep gulp from the machine’s mouthpiece. “Can I find you something to drink, sir? Is there a well out back?” Ember asked, taking pity on him.
He shook his head with a near-desperate expression, and she realized that he needed to tell them his story almost as much as they needed to hear it. “The ancients named my species Kaprosuchus… the boar crocodile. Back when it lived, there was more oxygen in the air. So as my mutations progressed, I struggled to breathe. I am an abomination… only the machine keeps me alive. The forest senses my affliction, and the disease spreads out from me like a cancer.”
Ember couldn’t deny that his words rang of truth. It was unbelievable, but not impossible; many months before, at the Burbank biology laboratory, a scientist had explained to her that their mutations were the result of the polymerase enzyme following the blueprint of an animal species rather than a human. He had never claimed that the species had to be currently living.
“But why did you retire?” Marcus asked.
“My strength was fading… Corax was young and ambitious… it was easier to let him put me here and assign me a caregiver. A figurehead was voted in my place… the people preferred him, anyway.”
Ember was struck with compassion. Most of Mr. Ernold’s prehistoric compatriots would have died young, and she doubted that the treatment was as effective on those with such different biologies. It is a sad lot in life, she thought, to be defunct because others find you anachronistic.
“I will come again, sir,” she said, taking his hand. “I will bring you books from the library and tell you stories of the city if you wish.”
Marcus scowled, looking like he would argue with her. “The bird-creature-”
The former mayor let out a sudden, barking laugh. “Do not fear him. His name is Quetzalcoatlus… after the feathered serpent god of one of my ancient civilizations. He may be frightening… but he will not harm you.”
“He was sick,” Ember ventured. “Struggling to breathe, like you.”
“Yes,” Mr. Ernold agreed, “he doesn’t have long left… but he wishes to spend it free… not chained to a machine. He is less of a coward than I.” He shook his head, looking sorrowful. “You are much like your brave mother… and I regret that I can not tell you more about her… all because I retreated here like a rat underground.”
He reached forward and seized her hand. “Child,” he implored, “the treaty has held through my lifetime… and I pray that it will hold through yours. But if there is war, Corax will use you… he will take you as his weapon. You must resist him, or be stripped of your autonomy.” His eyes flitted to Marcus. “You will see to it?”
“He’s not-” Ember tried to say, but Marcus was already agreeing, his mouth downturned with worry.
The old man took the tip of his thumb between his lips, chewing absentmindedly. “If only there was something more I could do…”
Suddenly, his eyes shot wide. “Young man,” he ordered, “bring me my paper and my quill.” With a shaking hand, he pointed across the room to the bookshelf.
Marcus did as he was told, and the former mayor wrote a name and a set of directions on the paper, handing it to Ember like it was something precious. “You are a fighter, so Corax will place you with a member of his association when he deems fit… but they are under his thumb. Play his game, but seek help here… this man is an old friend of mine, outside of the crow’s influence.”
Ember slipped the paper into her pocket. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.
The former mayor looked outside of the window, where the sun had moved far to the west. “Much time has passed. You must both leave now… the forest is less kind in darkness.”
Ember took his hand and thanked him again, repeating her promise to return. As they walked through the forlorn house, she took note of what she could clean and repair during her next visit.
“I’ll come back with you again,” Marcus said as they crossed the threshold into the forest. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes pointed forward into the trees.
“You don’t have to,” Ember said, even though she wasn’t eager to face Quetzalcoatlus alone. “Mr. Ernold said it’s safe.”
“I want to,” he said firmly. “As long as I won’t be in your way. I have a feeling that there is much to learn from him—things that others do not intend us to know.”
Ember smiled at him. “My mother was a hero, Marcus. All this time I thought that she left me.”
He nodded. “The village was the safest place for you: away from those who would take advantage of you in Mendel and from the humans. It would have been easy to hide you in a place so secluded if you did turn out to be Linnaean.”
Ember’s stomach flipped again as she realized the scope of her mother’s efforts, foiled in the end by her death, the withdrawal of financial support from her parents, and her husband’s move to Ciradyl. “How ironic that I ended up here regardless,” she commented.
Silence overtook them, and as they walked, her eyes traced the trees, where the eerie darkness pooled at their roots. Only the immediate need to leave the cursed forest kept her from succumbing to the thoughts that rattled inside her mind like the wings of birds against the walls of a birdcage.
But at last, she had answers to the questions that had plagued her since her arrival to Mendel—she knew her species, the golden lancehead viper, and a critical piece had been fit into the puzzle of her mother’s disappearance.
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