Vincalis the Agitator (72 page)

A red-haired man marched along the lines, calling out, “You who have names, stay on the far side of the line. You without
names must raise your hands and I will give them to you. No person steps through those gates without a name. We Warreners
deserve names. We are people, and we will live like people, and die like people.”

He touched a girl’s hand. “You’re Brown.” And a boy’s hand. “You’re Tallboy.” A man, weary and stooped. “You’re Courage.”
He stopped by the man, and touched him, and said, “We’re both Warreners born, you and I—but now we’re free. Our souls and
our flesh are our own again; the monsters that devoured us are gone. You can feel it. Believe, man! Believe. We’re people
now, and all of eternity is ours.” The weary man nodded and managed a small smile, and the leader moved on, again giving names.
“You’re Hunter … you’re Copper … you’re …” He stopped in front of a gawky, rail-thin boy who didn’t fit with the others—who
looked lost and starved and broken in ways none of these others were. “You have no name?” he asked the child. The boy shook
his head. “You’re from the Warrens?” The boy nodded. And the red-haired man smiled and said, “I have just the name for you.
Your name is Wraith.” He leaned in close to the boy and said, “It’s the best name of all. I was saving it for someone special.”

Wraith couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He stared at the mountain of human flesh who had just said that, and tried to
equate the man before him with the skinny red-haired boy he’d known so long ago. He couldn’t believe it, but it couldn’t be
anyone else.

He pushed past the people crowding toward the gate and the promise of freedom, squeezed along the wall, and came up behind
the red-haired man. He had a lump in his throat, and tears blurred his eyes so badly that for a moment he couldn’t see at
all. Wraith touched the man’s arm, and when the Warren leader turned, said, “Smoke? Is it you?”

A long moment of silence. Then, “Oh, gods. Wraith!”

They hugged, and Smoke finally pushed him away and stood staring at his face, nodding. “You look the same.”

“You don’t,” Wraith said, and laughed a little, and wiped the tears from his eyes with a quick swipe of the back of his hands.

“No,” Smoke agreed.

They stood for a moment, lost for words to bridge the gap of years and nightmares.

Then Smoke said, “Even when I was Sleeping, I knew you’d come back.” Smoke’s eyes shifted left and down, and his smile turned
disbelieving. “Jess? It can’t be. You brought Jess with you, too?”

“It’s me, Smoke.” She rested her hand on Wraith’s forearm and said, “Wraith moved a world to get here.”

“I felt it move,” Smoke said. And then he turned to Wraith. “Thank you. Thank you for not forgetting about me—about us.”

“Never,” Wraith said. He felt Jess’s hand slide into his, and tightened his fingers around hers. When he looked down at her,
she was smiling up at him; Wraith saw tear stains on her cheeks.

“You were right about the Warrens,” she told him.

He nodded, and kissed her forehead. “I know.”

Beyond Vincalis Gate, a new and frightening world waited. But the Warreners were still alive in spite of everything an entire
civilization had thrown against them. Having conquered odds so terrible, Wraith had to think these people had a chance to
win it all—the world and everything in it.

Jess whispered, “And what about you and me?”

“We have all the time in our lives to figure that out.” He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

And the first Warreners stepped through Vincalis Gate and into the wilds beyond.

Holly Lisle, born in 1960, has been writing fantasy and SF novels full-time since November 30, 1992. Prior to that, she worked
as an advertising representative, a commercial artist, a guitar teacher, a restaurant singer, and for ten years as a registered
nurse specializing in emergency and intensive care. Originally from Salem, Ohio, she has also lived in Alaska, Costa Rica,
Guatemala, North Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. She and Matt are raising three children and several cats.

She maintains a large readers’ and writers’ Web site at
www.hollylisle.com
/ and offers a free irregularly published writers’ newsletter, plus a readers’ mailing list, active readers’ and writers’ communities,
games and contests, sneak peeks at new work, and much, much more.

Holly’s e-mail address is [email protected]. She reads every letter and e-mail, though she cannot promise to answer all
of them.