by Aaron Hodges
The creature fell to the floor, dead beside its mate.
Silence fell like a blanket over the chamber as Lukys and the others stared at the body, watching as the blood pulsing from its wounds slowed, then ceased. As one, they turned their gaze on Cara.
The grey eyes of a Tangata stared back at them, mad, enraged. Despite everything he’d seen, Lukys flinched. It was as though Cara herself had reached into his chest and wrenched out his heart.
Death, death, death.
“You’re one of them,” he whispered, eyes burning.
They had been betrayed. Somehow, the Tangata had created one who could walk amongst humans without being noticed, a Tangata without their telltale eyes. One who could speak, who could pretend, who could even adapt their mannerisms. But now she had revealed herself…
“Lukys, no…” Cara whispered.
She blinked, and the animal vanished, the grey receding from her irises, replaced by the usual amber. In seconds, it was no longer a Tangata who stood before them, but the human he had known all these weeks, the sweet young woman he had met on the walls of Fogmore. She stared at him, eyes wide and filled with fear. There was no sign of the fury of just moments before.
“Yes.”
Somehow Romaine had moved without Lukys’s notice. The Calafe now stood near the entrance to the chamber. Shoulders drooping, face grey from lost blood, he held his axe before him like a sword. Pain shone from his eyes, and though blood still seeped from his severed hand, Lukys sensed it was the agony of betrayal he saw.
“Romaine,” Cara whispered, holding out a hand. “Your hand—”
“You’re one of them,” the axeman repeated Lukys’s earlier words. He staggered forward, though it seemed his legs could hardly hold his weight now. “You’ve betrayed us…why?”
Cara retreated from Romaine, shaking her head. “No, no, no,” she whispered as she looked this way and that, seeking to escape. Her eyes met Lukys’s, and he could almost hear her pleading.
Help me, Lukys!
Lukys was still trying to process what he’d seen. Cara had…saved them…but she was one of the Tangata…why would she help them? His eyes were drawn to the clothed bodies, those of the modern Tangata. A cold hand gripped his heart. She had avenged them, her fellow Tangata, those who had fallen earlier to these creatures.
He clenched his fists, steeling himself against pity. She had deceived them all, had tricked them, played them as fools for weeks. This was only another manipulation, a testing on their emotions, to try and recover her act. Romaine had already seen it. No, they couldn’t afford mercy, not now, not after seeing the power this new Tangata held in her hands. If they could stop her…
“Dale, get up,” Lukys hissed, stepping sideways to place Cara in the middle of the three of them. His foot brushed the broken spear and he swept it into his hands.
Across the room, Dale came slowly to his feet. His face registered shock rather than pain. He hadn’t known Cara as they had, wouldn’t feel the same depth of betrayal. Lukys and Romaine and Travis had opened themselves to her, to the monster that lurked in their midst. Spear held extended, Dale crept closer to Tangatan traitor.
“Please,” Cara murmured, swinging to Romaine again. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”
The blood covering her heavy coat said otherwise. Lukys held his broken weapon higher, though it seemed inadequate after witnessing Cara’s disposal of the two creatures. He tightened his grip. It would be enough. It had to be.
“Lukys…” She tried him again. Tears shone in her amber eyes as she extended a hand. “Please, you know…”
Please, please, please.
The sight of her tears froze Lukys in place. Blood pounded in his ears as their eyes locked, and he could almost hear, could almost believe….
No, no, no.
The scraping of leather against stone gave Romaine away. Spinning, Cara leapt back from the Calafe as his axe swept down, narrowly avoiding the terrible blades. A scream echoed from the walls—not of rage, but grief.
“Romaine!” Cara cried, but the Calafe warrior was beyond listening.
Teeth bared, eyes shimmering, axe clenched in his one good hand, he advanced. Lukys watched on, unable to move. In his mind, he saw again the creatures attacking, the awful battle, the blood…
The broken spear shook in his hand as he lifted it, then lowered it once more, trapped in a cycle of indecision.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Cara gasped, hands raised to Romaine. “Please, I—”
“Enough!” Romaine bellowed.
The razor tips of his axe came up, the weapon flashing for Cara’s skull. Again she leapt back, and Romaine staggered. Agony contorted his face and Lukys could hardly believe the man stayed on his feet. Any normal man would have passed out from the pain, let alone loss of blood.
Please, please, please.
Lukys stifled a moan and raised a hand to his forehead. His skull ached as though someone were banging on it with a club. Another roar drew his attention back to the conflict as Dale tried a clumsy thrust with his spear. Cara evaded it easily, but…
She was standing directly before Lukys now. Back turned, she didn’t seem to remember he was there…or hadn’t realised her evasion had brought her so close.
He swallowed, the spear trembling in his fingers. Across the room, Romaine met his eyes. Axe raised, the Calafe started forward again, drawing Cara’s attention.
Lukys stared at Cara’s back, at her unprotected spine. He imagined driving the point of his spear through that soft flesh, imagined hearing his friend’s final cries, the last breath rattling from her chest…
She’s not your friend!
There was no doubt. He had seen her, had seen those horrible grey eyes, sensed the violence in her soul. She was one of them, one of the Tangata, living amongst them, a spy, a traitor. A dangerous new breed, a monster that must be destroyed.
So why did this seem so wrong?
Please!
Lukys’s heart throbbed. He had to act now. Cara was so close, he could have reached out and touched her, though she hated that.
Why?
It seemed an odd phobia, for one of them.
He shook himself. There was no time for doubt. Again he met Romaine’s eyes. Silently he lifted the broken spear.
And brought it down on the back of Cara’s skull.
29
The Archivist
Erika sat watching as the light slowly grew between the distant peaks. Mist formed in front of her face each time she exhaled, and the air was so cold it hurt just to breathe. Her head ached from the blow she had received in the caverns and it still hurt to walk on her left leg.
She hardly cared.
The battle was two day past now. She could remember only flashes. A contorted face. Grey eyes in the darkness. A flash of white. Agony.
Then staggering through an endless tunnel, supported by a faceless man in blue. Climbing, hand over hand, up and up, metal rungs—then rocks. Feet slipping in gravel.
Sleep.
The first she’d truly wakened was the next day, when the sun had found her exposed on the mountainside. That had been yesterday morning.
Watching the sun rise now, she lifted her hand and squeezed. Light ignited between her fingers. Just a few days ago, the sight had given her a thrill, filled her with a feeling of power. Today, it did nothing to shift her despair.
Down in that darkness, her magic had proven useless. Before the might of the Gods, she had been powerless, knocked unconscious before she’d ever had a chance to use the power.
Worse still, she had failed.
Lukys was leading them back towards Flumeer, back to the rest of their regiment and the safety of the Illmoor. But what did that matter to Erika? Once again, her expedition had proven fruitless. The queen had warned of the consequences if she returned empty-handed…
If only she had reached the tunnels before the Tangata. Who knew what priceless artefacts the creatures had destroyed in their ra
ge? No, that had not been rage, but a methodical destruction. Her Archivist’s mind wanted to know why. But apparently not even the Tangata had expected to find those ancient monsters…
Erika shuddered, her mind recoiling from that memory. It was a relief when the images faded back into darkness, though the fuzziness of her thoughts could not hide the truth from her. She was ruined, betrayed yet again.
Her eyes were drawn to where the treacherous spy lay. She was bound hand and foot by heavy rope, her mouth gagged in case she tried to call for help. Dale also sat nearby for good measure, their one good spear at the ready. Erika still wasn’t sure why they’d kept her alive. Lukys had apparently struck her hard in the head with the blunt end of his spear, then stopped Romaine from slaying her where she lay.
He thought they needed to know how the Tangata had learned to speak, and whether there were others.
Erika didn’t care.
Movement came from the shadow of a nearby boulder, but it was only Romaine. He blinked as the brightness of the rising sun touched his face, then rolled over to present his back to the light.
Erika shivered as she glimpsed his stump. It was swathed in cloth, but she’d seen the ruin the creature had left of it the night before, when Lukys had changed the bandages. They’d used the burning torch to cauterise it, down there in the darkness. It had stopped the bleeding and saved the man’s life.
Not that the warrior seemed interested in living any longer. Whether it was the loss of his hand, or the girl’s betrayal, Romaine had hardly spoken a word since leaving the caverns. His depression made Erika seem joyful by comparison; it was as though his entire world had ended down there in the darkness.
Soon the others began to stir, first Lukys, then Dale, and finally Cara. The woman—no, the beast—had obeyed their every instruction since awakening, though Erika often glimpsed tears in the thing’s eyes as they walked. If Cara thought her act would soften their hearts, she was sorely mistaken.
Romaine was last to rise. They had lost many of their possessions in the caverns, including most of their food. They had eaten the last of their supplies the night before. The Calafe started off without saying a word, leaving the rest of them standing there in silence.
“He’ll be okay,” Lukys said finally, glancing at the others. Erika and Dale said nothing, and after a moment, Lukys held his hand out to the other recruit. “Pass the spear,” he murmured, “I’ll guard her through the morning.”
They started off, though the going was slow with Cara between them. The rope tying her legs was long enough that she could walk in short steps, though if she tried to run it would quickly become entangled. On the uneven rocks, it caught frequently anyway, sending her stumbling forward until she recovered or fell. With her arms bound behind her back, she often ended up on her face.
Even so, she did not struggle or say a word as the day progressed. Lukys followed behind her, spear held ready to run her through if she tried to escape. Exhaustion hung over them like a shroud, but at least the snow had held off, and soon they were back amongst the trees. The only hope that kept them going was the thought of reaching the Illmoor, of the hot food and safety that awaited them on the other side.
Erika paid little attention to her surroundings as they marched. Despite her hunger, despite her haste in the day’s past, she cared little for whether they reached the camp or not. What did it matter whether she died out here, or by the queen’s hand back in the capital? That day in the throne room seemed an age ago now; even that last night in Fogmore, spent enraged at the general’s deceit, was a distant memory.
Anger touched her again. Could this venture have ended differently had she been accompanied by true soldiers? If she’d delayed, waiting for orders from the queen for Curtis to provide her with better men?
Such folly.
Maybe if Lukys and Dale—the only ones lucid after the attack—had allowed them to linger in the caverns, Erika might have found something that had survived the Tangata’s methodical destruction. But by the time she’d recovered her wits, they’d already been far away.
They reached the abandoned village as the sun was setting, though walking at the rear of the group, Erika didn’t realise until she saw the first of the cottages. The sight came as a relief—at least they might be able to risk a fire, even if there was nothing left to eat. And it meant there was less than a day’s walk to the Illmoor.
Then she saw the bodies.
A fiery rope looped its way around her stomach. She staggered, seeing first one, then another, then…more. Choking, she stumbled on, igniting the light of her gauntlet, ready to strike. A shadow shifted in the darkness and she cried out, lifting her fist. The light illuminated Lukys’s face and she sagged, the fight fleeing her in a rush.
“Lukys!” she gasped. “What happened here?”
“The Tangata,” Lukys said, his voice cold, face registering no emotion. These had been his friends, but the past two days had taken something from all of them, robbed them of their innocence. “Come, this way.”
Erika did as she was bid, too tired to resist, to ask questions. Bodies lay scattered in the path and alleyways between the buildings. In the growing dark, Erika could see no sign of their wounds. They might have been sleeping, had it not been for the awful stillness that lay over the place.
Lukys led her through the village to one of the cottages—the one she’d slept in, Erika recalled. Within they found Romaine slumped against the wall, Dale standing alongside him. Cara had been banished to the corner, her bonds tightened so she could not so much as stand. Erika clenched her fist at the sight of the woman, struggling to contain her rage.
“What happened here?” she asked again.
The Calafe said nothing, only sat staring at the floor. Shivering, Erika turned to the Perfugians.
“The Tangata caught them,” Dale whispered. His eyes were haunted, the tip of his spear trembling.
Lukys paced the cottage, glancing from Dale to Romaine. “They’re not all here,” he muttered. “There’s only…a dozen. I can’t find Travis. Tomorrow, we’ll search for tracks.”
“They’re gone,” Romaine croaked, though he did not look up. Blood showed on his bandages but no one had moved to change them yet.
“We don’t know that,” Lukys said resolutely, crouching alongside the axeman.
“They’re gone!” Romaine screamed. He lurched to his feet and Lukys flinched away. But Romaine ignored the recruit and staggered towards Cara. “You killed them all!”
The woman, the creature, Cara, did not move. She lay staring up at Romaine, helpless before his rage. Slowly she shook her head.
“It wasn’t me, Romaine,” she croaked, voice breaking. “Please, you have to belie—”
Her plea was cut short as Romaine slammed a boot into her stomach. Crying out, she curled into a ball, though with her arms bound behind her back, she had no way of protecting herself. The warrior drew back, preparing to throw another kick, but Lukys stepped between the axeman and the prisoner.
“Romaine,” he hissed, hands extended, “that’s enough.”
Erika raised an eyebrow at the recruit’s gall. Despite his lost hand, Romaine stood head and shoulders above the Perfugian. In a moment of passion, he might have struck Lukys down, but instead the Calafe hesitated, staring at the man before him. Lukys looked back, open grief—and anger—shining from his eyes.
“My friends are not gone, Romaine,” he hissed, though even to Erika it seemed a plea. “Travis, the others, they’re alive. They’re out there somewhere, either taken or on the run. I will not give up on them.”
Silence answered the recruit’s words, until finally Romaine shook his head. “Perhaps if they fled towards the river…” He trailed off, eyes distant, as though his mind was someplace else. “But even if they made the Illmoor…will the general send a ship? With so many Tangata in the area, they would risk being ambushed, overrun.”
“You’re saying we may be trapped here,” Erika whispered.
; Silence fell over the group as each contemplated their likely fate. Erika’s thoughts turned once again to her failure. She couldn’t understand how the Tangata had even know the site was there. It had lain undiscovered for hundreds of years; yet the beasts had reached it just a day ahead of them. Surely that could not be coincidence.
Her eyes were drawn to where Cara lay. The beast had seen the map, had known the location of the site. But Cara had been with them night and day. Could she possess some other way of communicating with the other Tangata?
Slowly Erika rose to her feet. It was past time their prisoner answered some questions.
“You betrayed us,” she said, stepping towards the inert creature. “Somehow, you alerted your brethren to our destination.”
Cara didn’t respond, only lay looking up at her, amber eyes shining in the light of her gauntlet…
…Erika paused, glancing at her hand. The magic had ignited once more, unbidden. Her eyes were drawn back to the prisoner. Rage throbbed in her skull, mixing with the pain of her injuries. She didn’t know how, but she knew the beast had betrayed the location of the site to the Tangata. How she longed to hear the treacherous creature scream.
A growl built in Erika’s throat and before the others could react, she lifted the gauntleted fist and opened her hand. Light flashed as the magic responded. A scream tore from the traitor as light spilt from Erika’s fingers, though a second later it was silenced. Mouth still stretched wide, Cara arced against the ground, unable to breathe, to so much as cry out as the power of the Gods claimed her. Erika may have found herself useless in the caverns beneath the earth, but she could at least still do this, could still take her revenge.
Other than the unnatural light, there was no visible sign that the gauntlet did anything. But its effect on the traitor was clear. Veins stood out on Cara’s neck as she strained against her bindings, but even she apparently had her limits—or perhaps the magic stole away her strength.