The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set

by D J Edwardson

  “Give us some of your slop,” one of the Waymen at the front of the lev ordered.

  “Certainly. Where is your container?” the first of the serving women inquired. Though her voice had barely been audible, it sent a shock of recognition through Adan.

  He rushed to the front of the platform so he could get a better look at the woman’s face. It was covered in grit and her hair was coated in sand, but he recognized her at once. It was Senya. She still carried herself with that same quiet strength she’d displayed back at her home in Aldea.

  “Senya? Is that you?” Adan asked, though he knew it was.

  She said nothing, but the tears welling up in her eyes were all the answer he needed.

  “I don’t need a container. Just give me the whole pot,” ordered the Wayman in the front, interrupting the reunion and shoving Adan aside. “You—stay back.”

  “Are the boys safe? And—and Lila?” Adan asked, pressing forward despite the Wayman’s words and his restraining arm.

  Tears streaked through the grime coating Senya’s face. “Yes. The boys are here with me and Lila is safe with—”

  The Wayman let out an angry shout and shoved Adan into the arms of two of his companions. Their hands clamped onto his shoulders, holding him fast.

  “Haul this onto the ship,” the lead man said, pointing at the massive bowl. The stuff inside seemed to be the color and consistency of mosh, though the smell was less pleasant than Adan remembered.

  “But we won’t have enough to feed the others now,” one of the women beside Senya protested.

  For a reply she received a back-handed blow from the lead Wayman. “Give them some of that,” he said, chuckling. The other Waymen joined in, laughing and mocking the serving woman who had been knocked to the ground by the vicious blow. Senya knelt down to help her to her feet.

  “We’ll make do,” she told the woman. “Numinae always provides. He’ll watch over us.” She caught Adan’s eye. He could see in her look that she meant the remark for him as well.

  The Waymen heaved the bowl onto the lev as the laughter died down.

  “I’ll come back for you, Senya,” Adan called out to her as the lev jerked backwards and pivoted away towards the city.

  One of the Waymen struck him in the chest, sending a sharp pain slicing through him. He would have doubled over if he hadn’t been held fast by two others. “Quit your jawing.” The man snarled, his eyes burning with malice that showed he would have liked to have done much more. “Come on, let’s drop this scrap off at the pits.”

  Leaning out over the edge of the transport, Adan got one last glimpse of Senya as they pulled away. She was dusting off the other woman’s clothes, but their eyes met one last time.

  We’ll be all right, her look said. All things, in the end are passing.

  And yet as Senya’s face became lost in the crowd, Adan wondered how either of them would ever be free of this place.

  The name “the pits” turned out to be quite literal as Adan found out when they dropped him into a hole in the ground. It was about three times as deep as he was tall and wide enough to sit in, but not to lie down. A metal door with a piece of smoky glass embedded into the center covered the opening above. It let in just enough light for him to see that there was but one way out of his prison.

  At least they had unshackled his hands and feet before dropping him down the hole. He tried a few times to work his way up the sides of the pit, but the walls were a mixture of rock and sand that made it impossible to climb. Each attempt only stirred up a cloud of dust at the bottom and sent him into fits of coughing, so that he soon gave up.

  With nothing else to do, he untied the bandage on his leg and examined where his wound had been. There wasn’t a scratch. He stared at it for the longest time, still finding it hard to believe it had healed so quickly. He had been wounded before and had never made such a rapid recovery. But the more he thought about it, he had always received some form of medical treatment in the past soon after hurting himself, whether almamenth or solec. He had never been left to heal on his own. Perhaps the Developers had done something more to him than he knew, but if so, why didn’t his bioseine seem to know anything about it?

  He stuffed the bandage inside his garrick and gave up trying to guess what had happened to his leg. His thoughts turned to Senya. Watching her feed the haggard workers out in front of the tent, he could see that she suffered far worse than him. They were both captives, but Adan, at least, was not being forced to serve the people who had captured him. Or was he? Nolan’s final thought continued to haunt him: you will serve me, whether you choose to or not. He wanted to believe that statement wasn’t true, but he’d been manipulated before. Will had used him without Adan realizing it and he had no guarantee it would not happen again. All he could do was stay vigilant and try to discover whatever plans Nolan might have for him. That might prove harder than he thought. He knew so little about the mysterious Reeve.

  He rubbed his back against the wall to relieve an itch. He was tired of always being one step behind, of not knowing what was going on. He thought the Welkin had evacuated to some place safe, but Senya was here instead and there was no telling where the rest of the knit had ended up. Now that the somatarchs seemed to be moving openly in the desert, perhaps the rest of the Welkin had already been killed or carried off to wherever the Developers fled to after the storm. And then there was Nolan and this strange city of Hull. That was perhaps the most disturbing development of all. Waymen were frightening enough with their handmade weapons. Now that they had begun to use technology, there was no telling what atrocities they might commit.

  He tried to stifle such thoughts, but they consumed his mind long after the little window of light above had gone dark. Unable to put his mind at rest, he let his bioseine put him to sleep, instructing it to wake him should the Waymen return in the middle of the night.

  When Adan awoke the next morning, pangs of hunger spasmed inside his stomach. The Waymen had given him some of Senya’s mosh before dropping him into the hole, but he’d had nothing since.

  He stared up at the little cube of light above. The assurance that Numinae was with him, which had been so palpable on the journey back to the compound had completely deserted him. Why did you save me from the storm if you meant to abandon me down here?

  Of course there was no answer. He was beginning to doubt there ever would be any more answers. Gavin may have been healed in the desert, but Adan had been given no assurance that his prayers would be answered in the future. Here, in the bottom of this pit, nothing seemed certain, not his foolish hope of finding his or Gavin’s memories, not the possibility that he would find a way to escape and free Senya, and certainly not the existence of a distant being who could somehow intervene and make everything right.

  Adan passed the rest of the day fighting off despair. He stood on the edge of a great void, staring down into it. All it would take was a gust of wind to push him over. And yet, somehow he clung to the tiniest hope that tomorrow something would change.

  As darkness descended once again over the tiny window, Adan considered using his bioseine to send himself back to sleep. There was no point in staying awake. The Waymen never came. There was no food, no sign of activity above, though the wind did rattle the cover over his hole from time to time. It seemed to be picking up. He wondered idly if a storm was on its way.

  At least I’m safe from the wind down here, he thought, though just now, he would have preferred to take his chances with the elements.

  He had just resigned to put himself to sleep when he heard a soft thump above. A few moments later it came again. He stared up at the door, but he could see nothing through the window. Another thump sounded, slightly louder, and then another and another. Each time they seemed to come a little louder and a little faster.

  The thumps turned to shuffling and sliding sounds and then everything went quiet again. Adan thought about calling out to see if anyone was there, but decided to wait and listen a little lo
nger.

  A few moments later, he heard a click and the round covering began sliding away, barely making a sound. As the opening got wider and wider, a gust of air swirled angrily down the side of the pit, kicking up dust.

  The door slid away entirely and a large, dark shape filled the opening. Bits of rock and sand skittered down the pit as the figure descended.

  Adan gripped the sides of the pit. “Who’s there?” he whispered, but there was no answer. The figure kept coming.

  A thought seized Adan’s mind: Nolan’s decided to kill me after all. He clenched his teeth and prepared to fight. He would not go down easily.

  As the figure got closer, it became clear that a rather heavyset man was making his way down into the cell. When he hit the ground, Adan was forced to press himself against the wall just to accommodate the stranger’s substantial girth.

  The man had his back to him and as yet had made no move to attack, but Adan remained tense, waiting to see what he would do.

  Standing so close to the stranger, Adan was overwhelmed by the man’s unpleasant odor. Finally, the man turned around and Adan could make out the details of his face. He possessed a wildly curly beard and bulging jowls which parted in a hideous grin.

  “Nox.” Adan gasped, too stunned for the moment to say anything more. He felt a tremble run through him as he stared into the face of the man who had murdered Will.

  “Just dropping in for a visit,” Nox said in a hoarse whisper. “Did you miss me?”

  Eight

  The Sand Duster

  “What—” Adan began, but Nox clamped a meaty hand over his mouth.

  Adan was certain Nox meant to kill him. But then why had he gone to all the effort to climb down into the pit? It would have been easier just to hurl a pinion down from above.

  “Quiet or you’ll spoil the whole batch of kern,” Nox warned. “I’m here to get you out.”

  Adan pried Nox’s hand away. “You’re crazy if you think—”

  Again Nox silenced him with one of his ample hands.

  “Shh!” Nox put a finger to his lips. “Now for the last time, shut your horn. We only have a moment before the next set of guards comes around.” He grabbed hold of one of Adan’s hands and forced it towards the thick cord dangling against the wall. “All right, now shimmy up.”

  Adan stared at him in disbelief. Nox was a killer. Adan had watched him murder Will and he would not hesitate to do the same to Adan if he were so inclined. And yet here he was, claiming he was here to help Adan escape. Adan couldn’t read the Wayman’s expression in the darkness, but he couldn’t help but sense he had something terrible planned once they got out of the pit.

  Adan took hold of the rope Nox had used to climb down into the pit and the Wayman removed his hand from Adan’s mouth.

  “There’s no way I can trust you,” Adan said, careful to keep his voice down. “Tell me what you have planned and maybe I’ll go with you at least out of this pit, but I won’t do a thing until you tell me what you’re up to.”

  Nox snorted impatiently, “Trust? Who said anything about trust?” He shot a feverish look up towards the hole. “I need your help and you need mine. That’s all that matters. Now get up that rope if you want to cheat the wind for another day.”

  He grabbed hold of Adan’s other hand and placed it on the rope, but Adan promptly let go. “Help with what?” he demanded.

  “Getting out of this city, what else? I’m not here for the kern and the company. I got captured, same as you. Now hurry up before someone finds the guards I gutted.”

  A cold shudder ran through Adan. Nox was a killer, yes, but Adan couldn’t get over how bluntly he treated it, as if murder were something common and insignificant, like mentioning what sort of food he had eaten at his last meal.

  Adan glanced up at the opening. It went against his better judgment, but Nox and his rope were probably his only way out of this pit. Hopefully he could get free from Nox after he was out, especially since Nox was letting him go first. He shook his head and started up the rope.

  As if reading his thoughts, Nox grabbed Adan by the shoulder.

  “Now don’t go slinking off when you get topside,” he said, leering at him. “I’m saving your life, you hear? And I expect you to pay me back in kind. You owe me.” He planted a plump finger square in Adan’s chest.

  Adan sighed and began his ascent. He supposed that he did owe the Wayman enough to at least help him escape. And he doubted he’d be able to sneak out of Hull on his own anyway.

  I hope I don’t regret this.

  The rope rubbed Adan’s hands raw as he struggled towards the top. He sent showers of dust raining down on Nox as he half climbed, half walked up the side of the wall. He almost slipped off the rope twice during the ascent, but in the end, his arms aching and his hands throbbing, he crawled over the edge of the pit. A dozen other pits lay nearby, surrounded by char walls. A single barred gate was the only exit. A lumin dangled from a rod embedded in the wall beside it, but it provided little light. No guards were visible. He felt like lying flat on his back and taking a moment to catch his breath, but Nox had said a new set of guards might come at any time.

  Stepping around the other pits, Adan padded over to the gate as quietly as he could and peeked through. A narrow passage ran along the outside of the pits, the opposite wall was made of metal. Two Waymen lay slumped against the char wall to either side of the gate. Dark pools of liquid glistened beneath them in the dim light, seeping into the sand and dirt. Nox should have at least pulled them inside the gate to avoid the bodies being discovered, but then again Nox was not the brightest person in the Vast.

  Adan tried the gate but it held fast. A rusted metal padlock hung around the latch on the other side. In a way, he was relieved to find it shut; it made his decision to stay with the Wayman that much easier.

  A few moments later, Nox heaved himself over the edge of the pit, grimacing or grinning from the effort, Adan could not tell which. Nox yanked up the rope, wound it into a loop, and snuck over to where Adan crouched near the gate.

  “I suspected you might have an eye for the road,” Nox said, pointing at the padlock. “So I left it shut. You’ll need Nox’s skill and cleverness for this next bit.” He whipped out a pair of thin metal needles and began to work them in the lock. The old device gave way with a loud click and the gate swung open with a groan that Adan was sure must have been heard if anyone was close by.

  Suddenly, Adan remembered Senya.

  “Wait,” he whispered, pulling at Nox’s coat before he could slip through the gate. “I’m not the only prisoner in this city. I have some friends here who—”

  Nox snickered and cut him off. “Friends? Well, a whole lot of good they did you, eh? Let them find their own rip in the tent. I’m the only friend you’ve got now—the only one that matters anyway. And I’m not about to risk my life for a few hangers on.”

  The Wayman gave him a dismissive look and started to push through the gate.

  “If you don’t help me free my friends, then I won’t help you,” Adan said. At his words the Wayman stopped and spun around. Before Adan knew what had happened, he felt the jagged edge of a metal shiv pressing against his neck.

  “You’ll help me get out of here or I’ll lay you on the ground with these two,” Nox threatened, nodding in the direction of the dead guards. Adan had seen that murderous look in his eyes before.

  Adan gritted his teeth and nodded in silent assent. Maybe Nox was just bluffing since he seemed to need Adan so badly, but with Nox, you never knew what he might do next. Best not to test him and find out. Still, Adan’s insides went cold at the thought of leaving Senya and her children.

  Nox pulled him through the gate and pointed down the shadow-filled passage. Pushing Adan in front, they crept along the wall. Adan was only slightly more afraid of being caught by the guards than he was of Nox.

  They soon emerged into an area packed with tents and surrounded by the dilapidated husks of buildings. Low voices an
d shuffling feet drifted in from up ahead, but Adan and Nox skirted the edge of the area and managed to avoid encountering anyone.

  Once they left the tents, they emerged onto a wide path bordered on either side with large, run-down buildings. Lights shone inside, but Adan couldn’t see anyone moving along the path. A strong wind whipped up the sand, obscuring what lay at the other end.

  Nox paused before stepping out onto the path.

  “At the other end is what they call the docking bay,” he said, pointing towards the haze. “That’s where they keep all their ships. We swipe one of those and we should be able to slip out of here.”

  “But they won’t let us just take one. They’ll be guarded. And if this involves more killing, I don’t want any part of it,” Adan said.

  Nox let out a muffled chuckle. “Don’t worry,” he said, “The winds have been kicking up sand all night. No one will see us. And if we do run into anyone, I brought these.”

  He opened up his garrick and pulled out a handful of dark round objects and placed one in Adan’s hand. It was small enough so that three or four could fit in his palm.

  “These are sopor pods,” Nox explained. “We also call them nap-traps. There is a powder inside that’ll knock a man out for a good long while. Just toss these at any shims that give us trouble. Aim for the chest.”

  He shoved a few handfuls at Adan, who reluctantly inserted them into the compartments of his garrick. “All right, but do your really think if we take one of their ships they’ll let us just fly off into the Vast? They’ll try and stop us.”

  The Wayman scratched at his scraggly beard. “It’s a risk,” he said, shrugging, “but I don’t see any other way.”

  Adan took a deep breath, wondering how Nox had managed to get as far as he had if he was so terrible at planning.

  “There is no way this is going to work,” Adan said. “We might as well turn back—”

  Nox grabbed him by the collar of his coat and jerked him in close, giving him a blast of fetid breath. “Come on,” said the Wayman with a malevolent grin, “The wind will blow our way. Haven’t you ever heard of improvising?”