Nolala set her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t force the blame upon yourself, Oliver. Even I lacked the foresight of the outcome when you first brought up the destruction of the Marker. Your actions have titled the war in Elesrora’s favor.”
“But what about all of you?” I retorted.
Nolala pulled back and sat neatly on her coils. Her violet eyes scanned the faces of the people she swore to protect. Closing her eyes, she willed away any semblance of worry or panic, adoring a regal face that belonged in the pages of a historical book about queens.
“If the Null are going to be flooding the mountains and forest, then we won’t be able to scavenge additional resources,” she stated in a neat, composed tone for everyone listening on. “Despite losing a large sum of flour, we still have a two and a half month supply of food, which we can extend by fasting for a day or two between meals.” The Chieftain raised her chin, giving a subtle smile to all. “It will be difficult, but we’ve been blessed by Yetzirah, making us more than strong enough.
“Elesrora has a chance to collect themselves, but they will take chase. Scores of mighty warriors are more than willing to roam the woods or scale the peaks if it means eviscerating every sinful trace of the Null from our home. Hope still exists for us.”
“But they don’t even know we’re here,” I muttered. Nolala looked down, but she had nothing to say to that.
Meriel and Fell sat down to offer support, but even they couldn’t mask their wariness. Nolala was impressive to look steadfast in this bleak light. Their sacred temple just became a tomb, and yet she set a hopeful example for her people by allowing no trace of fear on her elegant features. And it worked. Those gathered around let the panic in their bodies dissipate, and they sought comfort in hugging or holding hands, bracing themselves for the future.
How could they be so strong?
I kept clenching and relaxing my fists to the point that my nails were starting to dig into my palms, barely keeping a grip on myself. If it weren’t for Meriel and Fell, I’d be screaming into the heavens and pounding my fists into the ground until something broke. I was so mad and frustrated. After everything, after almost dying twice, after all that effort, it still amounted to nothing. This wasn’t about me or vengeance. It was all about ensuring that the Isusi would survive so they wouldn’t end up like everyone I used to know.
A hand reached out to take my chin. It was Nuna, looking at me with a sober expression and distant eyes. The immediate response of mine was, “Sorry.”
Her hand traveled up to my cheek. “You’re not at fault, Oliver.” Nuna gave a thoughtful glance to the others, then she pressed her forehead to mine. “I know you didn’t want this to happen. I helped you because I wanted to preserve my people, but if the millions of other lives on Elesrora may go on for our sacrifice, so be it.”
“I can’t lose people again,” I admitted.
“We’re still here, Oliver,” she said in a tender tone. Meriel and Fell each took one of my hands, and Nuna pulled away so I could see her confident smile. “A beacon of hope still shines with Elesrora. It’ll be difficult to venture out now, but we’ll keep our eyes open for their army. They may not know about us, but we might be able to go to them.” She sighed and fought to keep her smile. “The future will be difficult, but we’ll cross the bridges as they come. We’re alive now, and that’s enough.”
Months could pass before anything friendly comes within miles of this place. Going outside to scout and scavenge will have an exponentially higher risk. And even the hidden tunnels have a higher possibility of being discovered. No matter how it was spun, we’re between the hammer and the anvil. Either everyone slowly starves, or Courriptions claw their way into the temple and does what a fox does to a chicken coop.
I wanted to make a difference. Maybe I accomplished that, but what good is it if the people I wanted to live don’t make it?
Everyone lives on a continuum, that can’t be changed. I’m not dumb enough to think I’m exempt. Time is the only force in the world that can’t be fought. Though, to me, at least, it meant everything else could bend if you went at it hard enough. When my ticker runs out, I’ll be ready. If it’s anything else, I’ll fight tooth and nail.
The crushing reality of attempting anything else against the Null was as futile as fighting the air, sinking the ocean, or trying to stop tomorrow from coming. Kicking the hornet's nest may have tilted the scales, but it ended up hurting the only people I wanted to help.
“Nuna’s right,” Meriel whispered gently while giving my hand a comforting squeeze.
“We’re still here,” Fell added.
Despite the comfort and assurance, I couldn’t not stare down at the maps. The mountains and forests are going to be blotched out in an inky black tide, essentially erasing everyone here like they never existed.
Meriel forced my eyes away from the map and met her gaze. Those sterling eyes made me wonder how the hell I could’ve ever hated her. For some odd reason, I can’t recall any other point in my life where I eve shared this sort of look with anyone else. Putting stuff like this into words was never easy for me. To make it even loosely coherent, it was like looking at someone and getting them, and knowing they got you, too. For Meriel and Fell, we just worked. And it was just fine like that.
I reached out to cradle Meriel’s cheek, rubbing my thumb over the scar and just appreciating everything about her. I’ve grown to adore her exotic almond skin, her long ears, her magical eyes, her sweet lips, the elegant lines of her neck like a swan, her strong—
“Oliver?” Meriel asked as she tried to tilt my gaze back up, but my neck fought her effort.
Blinking as the trance ended, I looked down at the detailed map until I spotted Chaparral— the fallen academy in the southern foot of the mountains. Looking back to the elf’s neck, I reached out to hold the Beacon.
Meriel gasped, “Fell, he’s got the look.”
Fell spun my head around like she was trying to snap my neck. “He does! What is it? What is it?” she asked fervently.
I scrambled from the fox-woman’s grasp and rubbed neck.
“What look?” Sanvi asked as a lamia came with clothes and helped her dress.
“Whenever he has an idea, his face goes slack like he just went brain dead. Oliver, if you have an idea, then say it!” Meriel demanded as she leaned into me.
My gaze traveled down to the crystal dangling in front of her chest. I looked to Fell next, whose ears twitched like they had a bad itch, then my gaze scanned all the hopeful faces of all the lamia hanging on my words. I opened my mouth, then shut it with a clack.
I rubbed my face, then shook my head. “Nothing. Just a stupid thought.”
Fell frowned, her bright hazel eyes boring into me. “What was it?”
“Like I said: a stupid thought. Look, I’ve done enough, and I’m not going to waste people’s time by humoring—”
I was cut off by a crisp slap that left my cheek stinging. I stared in shock at Meriel, who glared at me.
“Wipe that pathetic look off your face now,” she growled. “Nothing you’ve done has been stupid. Thousands of lives have been given an advantage because you weaponized flour! Fell and I are alive, thanks to you. If there’s something, anything, Oliver, then speak your mind.” Her face softened, and she rubbed away the pain in my cheek. “We’ll stand by you.”
Fell cupped my other cheek, sharing the same sentiment.
Sanvi placed her hands on either of their shoulders and gave me a wolfish grin. “What she said. And if something else pitiful comes out of your mouth, I’ll give you a hit you won’t forget.”
Hear their feelings for me chased away the stormy thoughts, and this warmth of appreciation welled in my belly. Hard not to feel hopeless when they’re showing so much faith. And Sanvi would probably knock out a tooth if she swung at me.
“You girls are too good for me,” I said with a light chuckle. “There’s no crazy plan. And it’s a stupid thought because it’s something I don�
�t understand at all.” Getting serious, I reached out and rolled Meriel’s crystal between my fingers. “Is there really no way for us to use this to get out of here, or even that Bridge thing at the academy?”
Chapter 23
Fell couldn’t help letting out a disappointed breath, a gesture that was mirrored by others. “Afraid not. Ignoring the fact that it’s damaged, the only way to charge a Beacon to send us home is through the high energy in a Bridge. And if the Bridge at Chaparral is miraculously undamaged, we would need a Seer to send us off.”
Figured it wouldn’t be that simple, but seeing no harm in learning more, I asked, “Why’s a Seer so important?”
Taking an interest in the discussion of magic, Wren and Luppa slithered into our little circle. A hint of awkwardness hit when I acknowledged them, but it was one-sided. The two women stuck out from last night’s haze since they were the most gentle. Luppa I understood from her lethargic state, but the abrasive Wren was oddly tame.
“Bridges are the greatest accomplishment ever managed by mages,” Luppa answered as she settled.
“Even someone as oblivious to magic as you can acknowledge how traveling between worlds is remarkable,” Wren said to me. “Long ago, mages could only travel under very strict conditions that varied from world to world, some only being possible once or twice every few years. Bridges were the byproduct of hundreds, perhaps thousands of years of rigorous study, trial, and error. Seers earned their title from attempting to see the spiritual tethers that bind all.” She let out a tired breath and rubbed her baggy eyes. “Spatial and dimensional mages stand at the upper echelon of the magic world. I hope you can comprehend how using such a sophisticated tool would be impossible for anyone other than a Seer.”
The usual bite in her tone felt warranted. That was some quantum-theory-level shit.
“Yeah, I get where you’re coming from,” I admitted then began rubbing my temples. “Magic is really warping my head.”
Fell reached over to pat my back. “Seeing you thinking for a solution even now is endearing. If we could get to it and had enough mages to make up for the power difference from the damaged Bridge, we possibly could be delivered to another allied world. Alas, moving everyone would be too dangerous. Staying put and hoping for the future is our only choice.”
I tilted my head. “Power difference?”
“Oh, yes,” Fell said as she brushed a lock over her ear. “It may be moot to keep discussing, but Bridges have twelve painstakingly-crafted pillars. Each is made with thousands of specially charged crystals since opening portals between worlds requires far more energy than several people could manage alone.”
Letting my thoughts flow with no real direction, I asked, “What about that ruby?”
Fell’s tail swished dismissively. “Sorry, Oliver, but that…” Her gentle expression went slack, and she looked down and to the side, lost in deep thought. Fell looked back to talk, but her mouth kept opening and closing, unsure of what to say.
Still stuck, the fox-woman turned to Luppa and Wren, who looked just as perplexed.
I looked to Meriel for guidance. “Did I say something wrong?”
“I… I’m not sure,” she replied slowly as she watched the three mages stuck in introspection.
Feeling concerned, I scooted closer to Fell and took one of her hands. “Talk to me. What’s twisting your tongue?”
“We don’t know what the Artifact does…” Fell uttered in the same slow manner like someone studying for a test. “But we know it has a high concentration of power. I…”
Wren tilted Fell’s face towards her. For the first time since I’ve seen her, Wren’s eyes were wide and alert. “Do you think the Artifact in your possession can be used for the Bridge?”
The surrounding lamia began to murmur their insights and arguments to one another in hushed whispers. Goosebumps ran along my arms once it became clear that random thought I spat out might be worth a damn.
“Fell, don’t worry about making it sound neat and orderly,” I assured. “Whatever you have floating in your head, let it flow. That’s how I do it, that’s how plans are shaped.”
The fox-woman summoned a deep breath and then brought her puffy tangerine tail into her lap to stroke. “An Artifact wouldn’t have enough inherent power to open a portal, but it would have enough to deliver us to another Bridge.”
A stupid grin worked its way on my face. However, Nolala stopped us from going any further.
“I do not like where this discussion is going,” she said in a foreboding manner. Pausing to shake her head lightly, Nolala approached Rabea. “You and the girls change. See to it that someone gets started on dinner, and then relax in the pool.
“Wren, get Sanvi’s arm back in a splint, then joins us afterward. Nuna, gather the maps. Oliver, Meriel, Fell, and Luppa. Follow.”
I took her regal features. Perhaps it was a mixture of her appearance and demeanor, but my senses tingled with imminent risk. With respectful silence, we rose and followed the Chieftain to where their food was stored. Upon entering the private space, Nolala ordered Nuna and Luppa to move aside the only table, then she sat upon her coiled tail, silently ordering the rest of us to take a seat.
For five long and uncomfortable minutes, nothing was said in the cool room that smelled of spices and pickled fish meat. I desperately wanted to break the silence but was conflicted. Nolala didn’t flat-out call an end to things, but the adverse air kept my tongue tied. Our intimate moment didn’t change our respective places. Only when Wren and Sanvi slithered in and found their spots in the circle did the silence end.
“Now,” Nolala announced curtly, her violet eyes fixed to me, “I am simultaneously impressed and crossed, Oliver.” A salacious smile crossed her lips. “No matter what is thrown at you, you always think of how to move forward.” The smile disappeared, and her eyes narrowed. “Yet risk appears to be a benign concept to that mind of yours.”
Fell squeezed her tail to her chest. “She’s right, Oliver. It may not seem it, but messing with magic beyond all of our collective knowledge is far more dangerous than blowing up a mountain.
“Constructing Bridges, Beacons, and determining coordinates requires a lifetime of knowledge. Fundamentally, however, they are very simple. Bridges are just locked doors that can only be opened by keys made of immense magical power, and Beacons are just intricately crafted maps in crystal form.
“People like Meriel and I are versed in the nature of these incredible tools because of our duty— me more so due to my education.” Her ears drooped and gave her tail an extra-hard squeeze. “Asking for my insight is like asking a baker how the smithy across the street extracts ore. Still, I can’t find an explicit reason why the Artifact couldn’t be used to deliver us out of here.”
“How about rational reasons, Fell?” Nolala implored.
Fell’s lips bunched up as she stared at me. The look in her eyes told me she wasn’t proud to be the one to kill my aspirations. “There’s the possibility the damage to the Bridge at Chaparral is too severe.” She brushed the tip of her tail under her chin and shrugged. “However, even if all the pillars are destroyed, the base still retains its functionality— there is just no means of activating it.”
Taking in the information, the gears in my head turned slowly. There was a lot to take in, and I didn't want to sound like a complete asshat.
“Well,” I started, running with one line of thought, “wouldn’t it be likely the Null left the Bridge undamaged for them to use. I mean, isn’t it just a free ticket to another world?”
“The Null can’t use our magic,” Meriel informed, crushing my wishful thinking. “Just like with the unfortunate monsters roaming this world, the Null collect corrupt the power within Artifacts for their own use. Markers are believed to be the bastardization of Bridges.
“As much as it pains me to admit, the Children of the Null aren’t stupid. Disabling Bridges hurts us, and it’s guaranteed to be the case. They wouldn’t leave an easy means of es
cape stand.”
“We don’t mean to beat you down,” Fell said, setting her hand on my forearm, “but there’s also the matter of the Artifact itself. Our job is to simply collect them. Experienced mages are the ones who study and discover their inner workings.
“The only way for us to use Artifact’s power is by destroying it. Hypothetically, if that can be managed, with my principle in energy, I can act as a conduit and direct the power into the Bridge and have it deliver us somewhere else.”
Wren groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “The Bridge may be unusable, the excursion would put us into our enemy's lap, and the power can’t be extracted from the Artifact to even make a difference,” she checked off spitefully. “Is there a reason this discussion is still happening?”
“Duly noted,” Nolala stated dryly.
Nuna shot me an apologetic look, probably upset that she has nothing to contribute.
“Breaking a ruby shouldn’t be that hard,” Sanvi interjected in a surprising optimism. “Does it matter how it’s broken, Fell?”
“No. So long as I’m in a collective state beforehand. I’ll only have a single moment before all that essence dissipates to the world.”
“One of us should just drop a large stone on it and call it done,” Sanvi reasoned.
“And if it doesn’t break on the first, second, or third try?” Wren asked with a heated face. “Should all of us weave through that wasteland without incident, we’d be overwhelmed in the blink of an eye.”
“Just trying to help,” Sanvi moped as she scratched at her splint.
Wren realized she got ahead of herself and hugged the dark lamia. The outburst just showed how hopeless my idea was. The last thing I want to do is stir even more trouble and have everything blow up in my face again.
Heart of the Resonant- the Soldier's Tale Page 31