by Reese Hogan
“If I read this right,” she finally said, “we’ve come quite some way. Distances work differently here. The nearest dekatite vein should be only a short jaunt this way – northwest, by our own standards.”
A map. Andrew stared at the glowing dots, trying to see the graphite lines from the sketched map he’d seen in the notes. Maybe some of it seemed familiar. He felt pieces shifting around in his mind, the way they did when he was learning a new language or adding new facts to a complex puzzle. A puzzle like their parents’ research, or the Age of Fallen Light. Or the puzzle of this realm.
A puzzle, he suddenly realized, that Mila might have undocumented knowledge of.
He turned away from the map. “You said those attacks – or reactions, or whatever you want to call them – are caused by dekatite being both inside and outside the vehicle?”
“We think so,” she answered, almost absentmindedly. “On every occasion we’ve had those bad attacks, there’s been dekatite inside.”
“Is there now?”
“There’s a spot on my arm,” she said. “Happened during the last accident. Obviously related to the lightning.”
Andrew’s heart almost stopped. “Wait. One of them marked you?”
“I don’t know, Andrew! All I know is I can cause erratic lightning now and it makes me weak when I do it. It’s not something I’ve had time to explore yet.”
By the moons. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. “And the mark’s made of dekatite?” he said shakily.
“Yes,” she answered irritably. “I just said that.”
“I don’t suppose it’s something you can cut out of your skin.”
“What?” Her head whipped around, her eyes pinning him.
“You just said that’s why we’re being attacked!” he protested.
“I…” Mila hesitated. “I suppose that’s not the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“But on the off chance–”
Mila didn’t finish before something slammed into the back of the truck with such force that the vehicle was shoved forward. A horrendous screeching filled the cab as the metal hood wrenched up toward the windscreen, then ripped off altogether. The truck rolled down a small incline before halting again, noticeably skewed now to the left. One of the sand tires had blown, or maybe even detached completely. A horrible growling filled the air, as well as a sudden scream. Mila clapped a hand over Andrew’s mouth. The scream sputtered and died in his throat. The growling continued for several more moments before petering out. Andrew reached up and angrily pulled Mila’s hand down.
“What are we gonna do?” he said, his voice shrill.
“I’ve been through this before. Just stay calm.”
“Stop telling me to stay calm! Stop trying to protect me, or shield me, or shut me up, and just admit something is trying to kill us. I’m not crazy, Mila!”
An earsplitting bang cracked all around them, and Andrew had a moment of disorientation as the truck tipped again, much steeper than before. The next thing he knew, his whole right side exploded in pain as it slammed against the metal and glass of the door. In the same moment, Mila fell on his other side, so hard he cried out. The blue lights went out abruptly, and other objects clanged around them as they fell from various parts of the truck. The vehicle had been pushed onto its side. Pain lanced through Andrew’s ribs, and he could feel the chill of the ground through the broken glass beneath him.
He felt Mila push off him, and a second later, a series of gunshots broke the silence. She’d squeezed her upper body through a broken section of windscreen to fire at their attacker. The deep, rattling growl reverberated through the truck again, rattling the frame with its sheer volume. Again, it was almost growling words. Bidzin-agabi-dethu.
“It’s running away,” Mila gasped out. “Thank the Goddess. I’m empty.”
She squirmed back inside, although the bent metal and shattered frame of the truck left very little room to move in. Andrew managed to get his body mostly upright again as Mila struggled to open a smashed compartment benath the driver’s seat.
“So are we clear now?” Andrew said. “We agree there are creatures out there?”
She sighed – in annoyance, he thought. “It’s drilled into us to keep the deckmates calm. Denial works better than you’d expect.”
“Well, I’m not one of your deckmates, to be lied to!” he said angrily.
“Don’t panic, Andrew. You’re just proving my point.”
“If not for me, you’d have slept right through that thing coming into the truck! I chased it off, and you tell me not to panic? You’d be dead! How can you–”
“Andrew!” she shouted. “Don’t lose it on me! Not now!”
Andrew clamped his jaw shut and tightened his hands into fists, shaking with the effort of not screaming at her. I went to Cu Zanthus
because I’m sick of dealing with her! He forced himself to take deep breaths. It’s not about us anymore. I’m working with Cu Zanthus. With Holland taken, I’m his partner now. Mila’s just a job now. She’s just a job.
Mila had finally gotten the compartment most of the way open. “No spare bullets,” she said. “No lights. But I found a pair of overcoats, for what it’s worth.”
A second later, a heavy garment landed on him. Though Andrew was already wearing his father’s jacket, he gratefully pulled it on, struggling with the sleeves in the tight confines. It smelled faintly of smoke and a bit musty too, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. Halfway through fastening the front buttons up, he paused.
“You mean we’re going outside. Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“But–”
“But nothing. We’re not uprighting this truck on our own. It shouldn’t be far. There’s just one issue.”
“Getting ripped apart by savage beasts?” he said sharply.
“You can’t shroud – in or out – without arphanium. I’ll have to pry some from the truck.”
Arphanium. Exactly as Cu Zanthus had said. Holland’s discovery. But if that were truly the case, what about the mutilated explorers Mother and Father had sent in? Lots of layers, a light, an imagesaver… The light. An arphanium lantern. Of course. Maybe it was common enough by then, they hadn’t bothered making the distinction, or maybe they’d purposely left some things vague.
Mila smashed something into the control panel at the dash. A rattling screech sounded outside the truck again, but it seemed farther away now. Nevertheless, Andrew shivered. He finished buttoning up the coat with fingers starting to go numb.
A second later, part of the panel separated with a loud crack. Andrew saw a faint glow within. Mila stuck a hand inside, blotting out the dim light. There was a soft clatter.
“Good thing we slammed into that rock,” Mila said. “Broke some of these crystal pipes apart.”
She pulled out a couple chunks and stuck them in her pocket. Then she turned and helped Andrew up.
His ribs sent a sharp spike of pain through his side. The fear of going outside was almost more than he could stomach. He forced himself to think of something else. Cu Zanthus’s kiss. Even now, the memory of it warmed his lips and sent a pleasant heat through his whole body. He held tight to it, as long as he could.
I can do this. For him.
He climbed through the shattered windscreen behind Mila, into the smoke-tinged open air. A frigid breeze blew his hair back. As he stood, the moonlit landscape spread out before him, jolting him with the overwhelming urge to scramble back into the truck. He forced the sudden vertigo down, making himself turn and look back the way they’d come instead. His jaw dropped.
No. Not moonlit.
Between the drifting tendrils of smoke, he saw a sweeping band of light jut up from below the horizon and sweep in a gentle curve across the sky, widening as it stretched away to the right before disappearing into the horizon again. Parallel lines were visible within the light, perfectly following its an
gles. It looked like a black and silver rainbow, but several times too big.
“Mila,” Andrew finally managed, “what is that?”
When Mila answered, she sounded as stunned as he was. “No idea. I’ve never heard anything about that.”
A cold dread settled into Andrew’s heart. “We’re not on Mirrix anymore,” he whispered.
“I never… I mean, I knew we… but this.” Mila’s breath hitched. She’s scared, Andrew realized. He closed his mouth, swallowing. Mila was never scared. Something about it shook him to the core. Admit it, a small voice inside him whispered. She’s not just a job. She’s your big sister… and you expected her to keep you safe.
Chapter 17
BLACKWOOD’S WAY OUT
Where are we? Inside the dekatite? Through the center of Mirrix? Holland’s words on the submarine came back to Blackwood now. She’d never shrouded on land before – but with the overlaid maps on the windscreens, how many drivers ever saw what she did now? The patterns in the partially-obscured stars overhead were unrecognizable. No Richard’s Maple, no Sir Tristan’s Funeral Cot, nor the footsteps of Xeil walking him home. The moons… four of them. Four. A large one overhead, a smaller one at eye level, and two very small ones opposite one another at the horizon. One of them seemed to brush that strange band of light.
With Andrew flanking her on the right, Blackwood jogged as quickly as she dared over the rough terrain. The land reminded her of the rockier parts of Belzen to the south. But though it was often this windy in Belzen, it had never been this cold. A couple mountains nearby were clearly volcanoes, lit up red in the distance and leaking smoke. Small wonder it was so ashy and hazy here.
Even with the kaullix fur-lined hood of the military parka pulled around her face, the cold bit into her cheeks and stung her eyes. The parkas had no doubt been stored for this climate on the chance the truck got stuck, as theirs had. There had probably been spare bullets once upon a time, as well as guns, but during wartime, everything had been given to those who needed it. The parkas had been left only because they never needed them in Belzen. But parkas or not, Blackwood knew for a fact that no soldiers had ever staggered free from shrouding without a vehicle to protect them.
She intended to be the first.
Andrew had barely spoken a word since they’d disembarked. The strange creatures called from every side, their guttural cries echoing through the rocks and distant crags, but none were visible. Blackwood did her best to keep a sweeping vigil as she ran, though her eye caught on that wide band of light behind them every time her head turned. She carried the bag of notes again, and its weight slowed her. She’d thought about leaving it, especially since Andrew had all the information in his head, but she knew she couldn’t depend on him. Even if she could keep him beside her, there were no guarantees about what he chose to share.
Andrew was lagging. Blackwood allowed her already slow pace to falter, so he could catch up. “Faster, Andrew.”
“I’m sorry,” he huffed. By his tone, he wasn’t sorry at all. “It’s my foot.”
“What’s wrong with your foot?”
“Nothing. Just a cut.”
Blackwood rolled her eyes. “From what I saw on the chart,” she told him without stopping, “the dekatite source should be in those ridges. You can make it.”
“We don’t seem any closer than when we left.”
“Sure we do.” Why did she never get stuck in these situations with proper soldiers? Even Holland and his head injury would be better than this.
“Do you always travel through the same world?” he asked.
Jogging at a pace barely faster than a walk now, Blackwood eyed him sideways. Was he actually initiating a conversation? Non-sarcastically, at that?
“I would assume so,” she said.
“What is it? Another planet? Another dimension?”
“Don’t know. No one does.”
“And nobody commented on how unbelievably dangerous this is?”
I did, she thought. But aloud, she only said, “It’s necessary. We can travel across Mirrix in mere moments. We use shrouding as a passage, right through… through this place. A half-mile here could equal a few hundred on our own world. Or more. All you need is a dekatite surface big enough to enter. And then another big enough to come out. Anywhere in the world.”
“And of course you’re using it for war. Instead of for trading or something.”
“That was originally its purpose,” said Blackwood. “But then Dhavnakir happened.” If it hadn’t, our parents would still be alive. She almost said it out loud, but Andrew and those notes and his weird thoughts about religion… No. Better not risk setting him off again.
“So you’re saying we might come out in Qosmya or Narbona? Or Cardinia?” Andrew said.
“Well, we’ve only gone to the waters outside Jasterus,” said Blackwood. “But then again, I’ve only ever traveled by sea. I suppose anything’s possible. I got a basic course in how the thing works, but didn’t get the navigation training. Not many underwater dekatite veins, after all.”
“So there must be oceans in this realm. Right?”
The way Andrew saw that right off jarred her. She’d never thought about it. Never thought of it as a whole other world at all – just this black, cold, dangerous abyss that surrounded them for the precious few moments it took to get back to their own reality. She remembered her snapped answer to Holland’s question on the sub: we’re dead, if you don’t focus. Even now, she was singlemindedly aimed at that dekatite vein, with little thought besides their own survival. Andrew was… too smart for his own good. It would do well to remember that.
“Gaba! Gaba-ruta!”
Blackwood’s head whipped around. The dread that had lain barely covered in her heart blossomed into full terror as a flying creature bore down on them. It was only a little larger than a person, with leathery skin, limbs resembling arms – though far too many – and a face that seemed more sharp teeth than it did eyes or nose. Blackwood grabbed Andrew’s arm and shoved him behind her, then wrapped both hands around the shorter strap of the heavy duffel. The beast came right at her, never slowing, and when it was a little over an arm’s reach away, Blackwood swung the bag with all her strength. The bag caught the creature squarely in one ribbed wing and the side of its face. The force of the collision sent a jolt of pain through Blackwood’s right shoulder, and she was thrown back by its weight. She landed on her back, and wasted no time rolling back to a crouch. The creature had landed just in front of them, looking none the worse for her attack. It stalked forward on six limbs, its long teeth bared and slitted eyes fixed on Andrew, who was on his feet hurling rocks at it.
“Caeg-alay,” it whispered. The strange words carried easily through the cold wind.
“What do you want?” Blackwood said loudly.
It clicked its teeth, and its whole mouth spread wider. The stones Andrew threw bounced from its skin without so much as annoying it. Blackwood grabbed the bag again, the only weapon she had. The creature’s head darted toward her, and without warning, it sprang. Blackwood got the bag in front of her just in time. The beast slashed razor-sharp teeth into the cloth, and within seconds, had ripped it apart in her hands. Papers cascaded to the ground, spilling over her feet, lashing away in the wind, great handfuls of them already shredded to ribbons. Blackwood clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. She’d seen first-hand what the canines of shrouding creatures did to human flesh. She dropped the tattered remnants of the duffel and took several hasty steps back, removing the arphanium pipe she’d grabbed from her pocket.
“Andrew!” she said, without looking away from the monster.
“The – the research,” Andrew stammered. “Mother and Father’s–”
“Here!” She shoved the pipe back toward him. “I’m gonna run back the way we came. You head straight for those hills, and look for the dekatite. Just hold that and push through.”
“Wait! You–”
“Take it!” she snapped. “T
hat’s an order!”
The creature was coming forward again, its claws ripping through the layers of paper drifting over the ground. Its body moved almost sideways, like a wary feline or a skittering scorp.
“Caeg,” it hissed. “Agay-a-caeg.”
“Zap it,” Andrew said.
“What?”
“With your lightning. Do it.”
Blackwood took a deep breath. “Take the pipe.”
Andrew took the piece of arphanium from her hand. One strike, Blackwood thought. I can do this. She channeled her energy through that ever-present tingling in her left arm and sent it straight forward like a bolt. The lightning hit the monster dead on, blinding her momentarily with the brightness of its flash. Thunder crashed, sudden and startling. The monster reeled backward with a horrible screech. The stench of burnt meat was unmistakable, yet somehow more foreign than anything she’d smelled before.
“Sh- Sh- Sh- Sha- Sha–” it stuttered furiously. It pushed itself back, and somehow got those powerful wings beneath the wind again. Then it was flying away, crookedly, obviously wounded. One of those wings was visibly smoldering. It sent a loud shriek back at them, this one with no discernible words.
Blackwood stared after it. She was still upright, with no nausea, no dizziness. Her brow furrowed, and she glanced back at Andrew.
“It didn’t weaken me,” she said. Because I got the mark in this world?
Andrew only met her eyes for a moment before turning his attention back to the papers fluttering across the land in the wind, scattering in every direction.
Blackwood shook her head. “With those monsters hunting us, it’d be suicide to try to save them, Andrew.”
Andrew turned away. He took one step, then another, before dropping to his knees. He reached out and grabbed a clump of paper that had caught against a rock. The arphanium pipe she’d handed him fell to the ground with a thump.
“Andrew! We can’t stop!”
He spread the pages out beneath his hands. She could see his fingers trembling even from where she stood. Gritting her teeth, she knelt at his side and swept up the arphanium. She put a hand on his shoulder.