by Mike Truk
Down we flew, my mind trying vainly to ascribe visual patterns to what I was seeing. The best it could do was a black tunnel composed of funhouse mirrors, all inscribed with glowing runes that were somehow both inside my mind as well as outside it.
My body was still vomiting, or trying to.
I placed my faith in Neveah, in the white light that surrounded us both, in the powers and understanding that Sahaswara granted her, the final and greatest of the sanskaras, and simply held on.
We punched out into some vast space, emerging from that vertical, death-defying waterpark slide into an endless void without stars or points of navigation. But the darkness seethed with energy, compressed magical power that had accumulated over time, that was, even now, being siphoned back out by a terrible will.
Were we inside the obelisk? Was I sensing the Hexenmagus’ control of its power? I couldn’t see any limits to the void around me. All sense of space and dimension was lost. I could have been a mote of dust lost in an empty galaxy, or simply trapped within a pitch-dark closet.
But Neveah was still there by my side, face showing strain, the white glow around us fading, growing dimmer by the second.
I can’t stay here long, she said, and I heard pain in her voice. This reservoir connects with the crystal web. You need to pass into it, then return to the obelisk from outside its domain of power.
What the fuck does that even mean? I cried out, trying to keep panic at bay.
Neveah rounded on me, took hold of my hands - I thought they were my hands? - with both of her own, staring me straight in the eye. Words cannot explain what must be done. Trust in the Source, Noah. You’ve been in the crystal web before. Return to it. Now.
Then she was gone, and with her, the last of that white, protective glow began to disappear completely.
I hung in that hungry void, panic hammering at my mind, feeling myself still dry-heaving somewhere else, on another plane of existence. My every attempt to find the crystal web, to peer into that endless night and see some sign of it, sent my mind spinning into a frothing frenzy of nausea.
So I closed my eyes, and felt the last of Neveah’s protective light fade away.
Immediately the darkness began to consume me.
It felt like being bathed in acid.
I dug deep, ignoring the pain, and allowed my body or spirit or whatever the fuck it was to be consumed, focusing on my sole imperative: to get into the crystal web.
Distance made no sense here. Movement was beyond me. This wasn’t a place. I didn’t have to go from A to B. The very idea of a journey was false.
This was all metaphysical, which meant the crystal web wasn’t far away from me. It wasn’t close to me, either. Distance was irrelevant.
It was just… there. Just beyond reach. All around me.
I just had to enter it.
Enter not by moving, but by willing.
The pain was beyond belief.
I thought back to Ghogiel. The sensation of being in the crystal web, that sense of being but a speck before the grandeur of the Source. The ability to perceive everything at once. The endless white flame that was power without limits.
The channels and conduits through which the Source sent that spiritual power into the Tree of Life, and from there into the endless worlds of the universe.
Just beyond my reach, waiting for me.
I burrowed deep into my core, my sense of self, and snatched a second’s reprieve from the pain.
Then I pushed, willing myself to slip out of that seething darkness, and instead into that glorious light.
The world trembled about me, seeming to undulate and writhe - then the pain vanished, replaced by glory.
A great arterial highway passed through Tantaghrast, a vast concourse that should have thrummed with the Source’s power. A leyline to power a world, larger than I could conceive yet at the same time but a capillary compared to the sheer output that should have been coming from Kether.
Yet instead of diving into an ocean of fire, I saw the artery of the crystal web was relatively dull and lifeless, the power turgid, the light grown dim.
Lilith’s strangling of Ghogiel was already taking a toll here in distant Tantaghrast. How long until this world died altogether?
I hovered in that white fire, which, despite being greatly reduced, was still the very stuff of creation. I felt the layers of my spirit-stuff that the Black Obelisk had destroyed restoring.
And oh, it was hard, impossibly hard to wrest my mind back from the sweep of that great highway, the pull of the Source. To not let myself be sublimated into that power, flowing away into the fabric of endless worlds, dissolving into that choir, absolved of the pains and preoccupations that came with being alive.
But I was no longer the youth who’d tangled with the crystal web back in Ghogiel. I’d grown since then, come into my own, and so it was with bitter resolve that I turned my back on that ceaseless glory, focusing my attention on the Black Obelisk.
This served, I realized, as the crystal web’s opposite; where the web allowed power to flow into the world, the obelisk drained it, pulling power back into itself, and ultimately the web. It was a battery, a reservoir that acted as an intermediary between a practitioner like the Hexenmagus and the might of the Source. A perversion, a blemish, an artificial trap for that deprived Tantaghrast of its quote of creative reality.
I flew back toward it, leaving that vast artery behind me.
This time I came to it from a position of understanding, of power. I wasn’t contained by the obelisk, being attacked by it, but approached it from without. Thus I was able to see the leylines of power that flowed into it, the circuitry, the way it worked.
And I saw where the Hexenmagus was drawing power from the obelisk, where he was siphoning power from its vast reservoir.
Shard was in my hand, a fragment of golden glory. With fell intent, I flew to the vortex that the Hexenmagus was drawing from, and with a savage cry severed that bond in twain.
My eyes snapped open.
Hell was all around me.
A hundred legionnaires were battering at our crumbling wards, a wall of heavy plate armor and dismal weaponry.
But at that moment they stilled, losing momentum, ceasing to attack.
The ward that surrounded the Hexenmagus went from black to green.
I lay on the floor, covered in vomit, but just then hurled myself with Manipura’s might right at the Hexenmagus, who was staring for that critical second at the obelisk, non-plussed.
I didn’t fly at him. I threw myself so I slammed toward him sideways, and with a scream slashed through his green ward, punching right through, Shard tearing a hole, and was upon him.
He turned his elongated face toward me with blank incomprehension, incomprehension that turned to something akin to surprise when I sliced the very last inch of Shard’s blade through his neck.
I hit the obelisk, bounced off it, and fell to the ground.
The Hexenmagus collapsed beside me a second later.
Around us, there was a great cacophony of metal as the legionnaires sank back into death once more.
I lay there, gasping for breath, feeling wrung out, as if I’d been doing my level best for the last hour to puke forth my lungs.
My companions stood in a tight circle, stunned by the sudden change. Emma reacted first, racing after me, eyes wide with shock, to drop to her knees by my side and help me sit up.
“Noah! Was that you? It had to be you - what - I mean -”
“He did what had to be done,” said Neveah, sheathing Morghothilim over her shoulder, tone hard with satisfaction. “Noah rose to the occasion. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“That’s one way to put it,” said Brielle, allowing the flames that licked up her sword to flicker out. “But I think it would be fair to say that he saved our lives, the universe, the Source, and… am I missing anything?”
“Sums it up,” said Little Meow tiredly, sinking into a crouch, hands hanging between her
knees.
I wiped the back of my wrist over my mouth, wincing. “I’m fine with Neveah’s version. But goddamn, that sucked.”
Neveah strode over to me and extended her hand. “You should be getting used to that by now.”
“Guess I am,” I said, taking her by the wrist. She clasped my own, hauling me to my feet.
“But what happened?” asked Emma, tone almost plaintive. “I’ve never felt so lost.”
“I don’t really know,” I said. “I entered the crystal web, thanks to Neveah’s powers. And from within, I cut off the Hexenmagus’ ability to draw from the obelisk.”
“Which left him open to your attack,” said Brielle. “Guess he learned exactly what they’re teaching Saviors these days.”
“Imogen?” I resisted the urge to groan as I straightened.
“Out cold,” said Little Meow. “But alive. Whatever it was she did, she pushed herself too hard.”
“We’re all doing that,” I said. “Emma, now Imogen. I think she broke through to Manipura there at the end. How long till she awakens?”
“No idea.” Little Meow ran her long fingers through her black hair. “This is all a little, ah, outside my usual area of expertise.”
“Well, we can’t wait,” I said. I walked over, crouched next to where Imogen lay, and slipped my arms under her slender form. “Let’s keep going.”
“You need to rest,” said Emma. “We all do, don’t we? After a fight like that?”
“Nah,” I said, rising to my feet, Imogen cradled to my chest. “Touching the crystal web has refilled my reservoir like you wouldn’t believe. Plus, we must keep moving. If the Nithing-Lord locks in on us, he could force us to fight for every step from here on out.”
Brielle grabbed her pack, slinging it over her shoulder. “Doesn’t the ambush indicate he knew we were coming?”
“Not necessarily,” said Neveah. “He could just be covering all points of access. He has the numbers.”
“So, we’d best press on before he notices he’s lost a hundred or so of his best troops,” I said. “We all ready?”
“Ready,” said Emma miserably, rising to her feet.
“You know it,” said Brielle with a fierce smile.
“Ready-ish,” said Little Meow, pushing herself up.
Neveah didn’t even answer, but instead took point, leading us away from the Starmilk, farther up the beach toward the back of the cavern where a large tunnel punched into the living rock.
“Fungal Cavern’s next,” said Brielle. “I must admit, it sounds delightful.”
“That word doesn’t mean what you think it means,” said Emma.
“What, delightful?” Brielle looped an arm over her shoulders. “You may be right. But after Ghogiel, Tagimron, and now the best that Gharab’s shown us? I think it’s understandable if my definition has grown a little warped.”
“A little warped?” muttered Emma. “Great. Just great.”
Neveah was a shadow ahead of us, her form growing translucent as she wove shadow magic about herself. I hitched Imogen a little higher upon my chest, glancing down at her pallid face.
She was breathing, outwardly unhurt.
But I couldn’t help but pray that she awoke soon.
The next minute would have been nice.
We entered the tunnel, Neveah ghosting ahead, the others drawing their weapons. For a while we proceeded single file, our footsteps echoing about us, the air growing ever moister.
No thoughts ran through my mind. No fears, no more doubts, no attempts to guess at what was coming.
Instead, I simply walked forward in a state that was both open-minded and ready to kill the shit out of anything that came our way. Though my reservoir was filled to the brim, I felt weirdly worn out; I’d channeled the golden filament too many times in too short a span of time, pushing myself to the brink too often over the past twenty-four hours. Something within me was worn thin.
But fuck it, there was no time to worry about that.
The tunnel opened into another massive cavern. This one was intimidatingly big, big enough for a small village to be nestled in amidst the mushrooms that grew as tall as skyscrapers throughout its length. Big enough that the distant roof was shrouded in the shadow, the far end lost to sight.
“Oh, wow,” whispered Emma. “This is…”
“Perfect for hiding a lot of bad guys?” asked Brielle.
“Amazing,” said Emma.
And it was. The walls peeled away from the tunnel mouth behind us, only gradually curving back around to encompass the huge mushrooms that formed their own veritable Redwood forest before us. Their stalks were fleshy and smooth, ranging from a sickly gray to a cadaverous beige, and from below, their caps were like vast sunshades, circular and gilled, each as large as a tennis court.
“Makes me a little dizzy,” said Little Meow, head craned back to take it all in.
“Anybody see anything else ahead?” asked Brielle. “Because I’m just seeing mushrooms.”
“I don’t sense any enemies,” said Neveah, then crouched and placed her hand on the floor, frowning. “Though something feels off.”
“Off?” I asked.
Neveah remained focused, eyes closed, then closed the hand that was pressed to the dirt into a fist. “There’s definitely trouble up ahead. I’m sensing nothing, but it’s a frozen image I’m being shown. A moment captured in time when the cavern was empty, an illusion.”
“Like a still frame?” asked Emma.
“Sounds like it,” I said. “Another ambush.”
Brielle twirled her blade around once. “Best way through? Just go fast?”
“That will leave us open to being picked off,” said Neveah. “No. I’ll go scout. See if I can’t get more information.”
“And how well did that work last time?” asked Brielle. “No, thanks. I say we all go together. We’re in deep enough now that we shouldn’t take any risks.”
Neveah looked askance at me.
“I think Brielle’s right,” I said. “Let’s move forward together.”
“Very well,” said Neveah, drawing Morghothilim. “Though -”
A blast, a slurry of light, and Neveah was picked up off her feet, hurled against the rear of the cavern, hitting hard enough that I heard the breath knocked out of her. She bounced off the rock wall and collapsed to the ground.
I dropped into a crouch, released Imogen, drew Shard, and raised my ward as I rose. Brielle was moving out wide, blade aflame, surrounded by crimson light. Neveah was trying to rise, bare hand clutching Morghothilim’s naked blade, using it as a crutch.
The mushrooms grew right from the get-go, a smaller, knee-high variety that rose in height the deeper one got into the room, till the first colossus burst toward the ceiling thirty or so yards ahead of us.
I scanned the open space. Nobody was there, no movement between the stalks.
Neveah’s head snapped to the side, blood flying from between her lips as if someone had just kicked a field goal across her jaw. I heard her growl, but there was nothing there, just empty space.
No matter. I lunged toward her, slashing through the air where someone would have had to stand.
Nothing.
Neveah flew up to her feet, blood running from her split lip. Her ward pulsed about her, a rich, wine-dark purple, but my attention was torn away when Little Meow let out a cry of pain, slammed to the ground as if a free-falling elevator had just hit her from above.
“Where?” I shouted, fury and desperation mounting.
Neveah dropped to a knee again, slamming a fist into the rocky ground.
Emma positioned herself over Little Meow, emerald ward encompassing them both.
“Here, but I can’t get a clear picture,” said Neveah. “All around us -”
Brielle’s ward began to darken, hundreds of circles flaring across its surface as if it were a pond being rained on.
“Brielle!” I roared, running toward her, but I was too late.
Her war
d shattered. A second later her blade was smashed from her grip, sent flying, the flames dying as it spun through the air.
She looked at me, eyes wide in shock, and doubled up over a blow that smashed into her gut, lifting her a yard off the floor and flinging her a dozen yards across the mushroom-strewn ground. A broken passage was left through their thick matted growth.
“Brielle!”
I saw her try to lever herself up, coughing out a mouthful of blood, then collapsing.
“Show yourself!” I screamed, turning in a circle. Neveah had risen to her feet, Morghothilim brandished before her. Emma crouched low over Little Meow, looking ready to be assaulted in turn.
Neveah’s ward started to flare; first a few hits, then a dozen, then hundreds.
I stared, horrified, as it warped, the dark purple lighting up under the assault. Neveah cried out in fury, flying up into the air, fast as thought, climbing up the cavern wall, but the assaults didn’t abate. The attacks were coming so quickly I couldn’t even see her through the ward; then the cave wall behind her detonated, a thick cloud of dust and jagged rocks breaking forth in a roar.
No - the wall didn’t detonate. Her ward had gone down, and she’d been smashed into the raw rock with such force it exploded.
I stared, mouth open, as the dust faded away. A crater six yards wide now showed against the cavern wall, a hole nearly two yards deep.
There was no sign of Neveah.
“Neveah!” Emma ran forth, abandoning Little Meow to race between the fallen boulders to where I saw Neveah lying. Her form was half-buried under rocks and dirt, Morghothilim having disappeared.
Holy shit.
I began running toward her as well, heart hammering, not wanting to think about what that meant, about what kind of force could hit Neveah so hard she’d fall and not get up.
Just before Emma could reach her, the air flashed, and a man appeared in her way. He was massive but perfectly proportioned, muscular in the way of a Mr. Universe. His chest was broad, waist narrow, everything defined, and his face aggressively handsome. His grin was half-white shark, half-lecherous leer, his hair a luxurious brown mane that fell about his boulder-like shoulders, chin shaved but already the color iron from stubble. A golden band flashed about his brow, and he wore a leather vest edged with gray fur.