by JM Guillen
We act! Faith, trust, and time, cut short by Crowe,
And yet, not I whose heartsickness shall grow.
Always urging, go, to march, forthwith!
Always wishing egress, to pass from Dhire Lith.
The images tumbled through my mind, and I could feel her excitement. We had appeared just in time for our allies who were being pushed back toward some unimaginable gulf. Her foes, the Vyriim planning to invade Rationality, were quite close to destroying her faction once and for all.
And yet, I remembered as I looked into her midnight eyes, she was also one of the Drażeri. She served the Vyriim as well.
As I contemplated, more came, almost frantic.
Yet I, loyal, staunch to bold given word,
Here waited, plotted. But mine pact deferred.
Yet now to arms! Oath-bond kept, death-wyrm procured,
Crowe’s talons engage, success assured.
Of all the images the Drażeri had sent my way, I found these the most interesting. Jonathan Crowe walked through the city, scanned every passageway, and tried every door. Then he was gone.
Now we were here in his place.
It was clear to the woman before us that Crowe vanished. He’d been desperate for a way home and may have tried one of the doorways he’d spoken of with such reverence. It didn’t really matter to her. She’d upheld her end of their bargain. Now we were here to uphold his.
“Miss,” Gideon was trying to be polite but was stumbling. “Miss, what is your name?”
She gazed at him, and we were overpowered with an image of a powerful wind rushing over tiny ripples of dark water held in a vast and unending sea.
I blinked waiting for words. None came.
Her name is... Wind and Dark Water? I was stabbing in the dark, a complete guess.
Now we know why Crowe referred to her as his principal accessory. What do ya’ think, should we call her Gail? Windy Darling? Wyatt’s link wore his shit-eating grin.
Your brain’s diseased. Windy Darling? That’s just... awful. Remind me to punch you later.
He snickered.
Zephyr. I linked to the both of them. It’s a beautiful word, and whatever else she may be, she’s beautiful.
Meanwhile the unpronounceable woman was handing the crystalline container to the muscled Drażeri man on her left. He stepped forward and shoved it into Gideon’s hands before stepping back into place.
I gazed at the intricate crystal and jade top carved in the shape of a misshapen skull with wriggly tentacles where the lower jaw would be. The soft amber reflections in the empty pits stared back at me, almost as if it could see my unvoiced thoughts.
I shivered.
It sat on a hexagonal base that housed a transparent chamber. A tiny Vyriim swam within.
“Ack!” I jerked back as it swirled in its tiny prison. I could not help but stare.
Death-wyrm procured. Well, that made more sense now.
About the size of my hand, it was thick and bloated as if it were a snake that had swallowed a rabbit. It looked raw and soft, like muscle that should be under skin. Small claw-shaped teeth decorated its edges and the tail end was flayed into several wriggling tentacles. The head of the vile thing held a single baleful eye that glared hatefully at me and Gideon and anything else that moved.
“Thank you.” Gideon was being as politic as he could, given the nature of her gift.
A larvae. Anya linked us all. Crowe’s packet indicates sabotage; it seems that depositing this Vyriim is the intended method.
We’re supposed to put a larvae in the Broodwell? Wyatt’s disgust was clear and completely reciprocated. I thought we were blowing it up or the like.
Seems like Crowe only knew the general outline of Zephyr’s plan. Gideon hefted the container and peered into it. Getting that Central Nexus for the skiff’s power supply must have seemed like a nice deal when he thought he got to blow up some Vyriim stronghold.
Blowing it up would have been a bonus. Wyatt’s enthusiasm had nothing on mine. I don’t see what good dumping this slimy little shit into another Vyriim’s Broodwell is gonna do.
It’s a breeding pit for another faction. Anya was matter of fact. It is not unknown for species to compete by killing off the young. Infanticide is quite common in fact. Incorporating the larvae in the breeding pit may kill off all the newborns of the opposing faction.
That’s not just infanticide; it’s genocide! Rachel sounded horrified.
They’re the Vyriim. The tone of my link held firm. They are parasites that completely take over a host. They kill everything within their host’s body that makes them an individual. I was surprised by how angry I was. These parasites are invading our home world… They’ve declared war on us. I paused. I’d say they have this coming.
Gideon carefully placed the cylinder in his pack.
Calm down, son. His link felt placid. Our ally’s getting antsy. He nodded toward the Drażeri who were frowning at us, fidgeting in place.
Is done! We away! The compact writ in blood and deed,
Remains intact, requires speed!
Another flutter of images reinforced Zephyr’s early point. We may not have realized it, but we’d dropped into the middle of a war. The impression she gave was that the falling of her faction was an assured thing.
Except for a single wild card.
Us.
Last word, cadre. Are we in this? Gideon cut to the chase as Zephyr looked at us with midnight eyes.
Affirmative Alpha. I chuckled. Nothing else to do.
It’s the only viable plan. Anya’s link came just after mine.
Gideon nodded, then turned back to Zephyr.
“We have two more members of our team. We need to retrieve them, but then we’ll be ready.”
As Zephyr bobbed her elegant head in reply, I couldn’t help but feel as if she were terribly pleased at this turn of events.
I hope we don’t regret this. Gideon looked back to us. I truly think it’s the only way.
Wyatt linked back. I said it before, Gideon, you don’t have to ask. We’d follow you into hell.
We might be doing exactly that.
18
Soon after, the Drażeri led us through the winding and deep city beneath this world.
For all of the labyrinthine nature of Dhire Lith, we remained completely misinformed as to its size. While telemetry seemed to show it as infinite on a Cartesian plane, we were certain that was an axiomatical error. Yet for all its immense, sprawling area, the city also ran incredibly deep.
It smelled like jasmine and the cool, petrichor wind that blew from forgotten caverns. Behind these scents was something else, however, a touch of rot, not foulness but the blood-sweet smell of a fresh kill. These scents alone unnerved us as we were led, all but lost, into the depths.
Tunnels the size of an interstate thoroughfare burrowed into the stone of Dhire Lith. Faint yellow fires lit buildings carved into each side of the tunnel. The underground metropolis bustled and surged, far more populated than the streets above, but our guide kept us to the corners, more than once opening secret passages where there had previously been no evident door.
None of this is in our intel. Wyatt felt wary. If it wasn’t for the Crown, we’d be blind as bats.
Animals of the family Chiroptera possess sight. Anya paused, but I could feel the smallest hint of a smile in her link. Crowe may have been unaware of this location. Or, it’s further proof that our servitor ally hasn’t shared everything she should have.
Bishop has our back door if we need it. Gideon’s link felt solid, almost reassuring. Worst case scenario, we’re out of here.
We followed our principal contact through passages that bent and turned like riverbeds cutting through stone. We passed what looked like a mosque made of colored glass and a great statue of a Drażeri man carved of basalt with silver accents.
Still we drifted forward through the darkness.
Eventually, we came to a large door of copper and jade. The
Drażeri rested her slender hand against it and turned to face us. She regarded us with eyes dark as midnight. As she spoke, images of knives and blood danced behind her words:
Beyond this gateway lies secrets and fires
Elders, insatiable with dark desires.
Here too, the long, winding path of oaths once made,
Bond-pact struck, for freely gifted aid.
“I assume this is where we part ways.” Gideon’s voice was gruff. “What about your end? When do we get paid for this little dance?”
I had to admit, I wondered the exact same thing.
Zephyr considered Gideon’s words, tilting her head a touch. She seemed genuinely confused, as if we had forgotten something she had already told us.
The compact in blood, like iron fire-wrought,
Your oath-bond complete, a long journey bought.
This was accompanied by a half-dozen flashes through my mind, like the fanning of a deck of cards. The images told again the harrowing tale of our mission, depositing the squirming aberration into one of the Vyriim pools. This time, however, it included a dreamy image of us returning to this place. I saw our young Drażeri ally there, and she handed us a small bundle.
I don’t like it. Wyatt felt tense. I mean, I trust the Rook’s instincts here, but what’s to stop her from crossing us on the deal?
It must be considered that deception is likely not common among Irrational races who communicate mentally. Anya’s link mused. One wonders if it’s possible to lie through a psionic bond.
I thought you automatically trusted her? I jeered at Wyatt. I mean, if the almighty Rook thought she was trustworthy…
The almighty Rook vanished in this city for reasons unknown. Gideon interjected. We can’t speak to his motive. Gideon nodded to the young Drażeri, who traced her fingers across the surface of the great door.
When it cracked open, a burst of warm air accompanied a red, lurid glow. Cautiously, we all stepped inside, finding ourselves along a smooth ledge that circled the cavern.
“You must be kidding.” Gideon looked down into the depths of the cave and then turned to our guide. “That’s suicide.”
He was right.
Below us dropped a vast cavern, at the center of which jutted a ziggurat of what looked like black opal. At each of its four corners stood obelisks of fiery, red stone sitting in a courtyard of white sand. The entire structure sat on an island within a vast and dark abyss, with a black, stone bridge connecting the structure to the city proper.
The guardians of this palace looked like ants beneath us. Hundreds and hundreds of ants.
Our guide met Gideon’s eye, and the slightest smile touched the edge of her mouth. She reached into her pack, pulling forth a small rod constructed of obsidian and brass. She turned the device, tracing one finger along its length. As she did, several points sprung out from its length, singing with a soft, dim light.
The look she gave Gideon seemed slightly condescending, as if she were dealing with a child.
We laid our plans, many hands as one
The dawn of eternity, the Midnight Sun.
Then the sky shattered.
I gasped, struggling to comprehend what she had done, even though, in actuality, nothing appeared to change. For one thing, the sky remained the high cavern roof of the chamber, all stark stone and darkness. There was no fiery burst and no explosion of sound.
Yet in my mind, hidden behind the places where I dreamt, I felt it, a devastating burst of raw fury, like thunder that had been wrought of logic and concepts instead of ions and galvanized plasma.
I could only feel the barest echoes of it deep in my body, a rumbling fission that made my heart tremble.
“What—?” Wyatt started and gazed upward, at the exact same moment that we all did.
Unimaginable power burst inside us that we could only hear at the very edge of our minds.
Ambient Rationality just shifted twenty-seven points downward and back in a matter of two seconds. Anya stared into space, her fingers plucking wildly. Whatever Zephyr initiated is outside our perceptual range.
But not theirs. I looked down over the edge of the ledge. Below us, the Drażeri servitors writhed in agony, actually screaming.
That’s our cue. Gideon nodded to me. Bishop?
Will comply, I linked but was interrupted by Zephyr’s words:
Return to me, play your song of light and
Er’ Shifting pattern. I hold your scrip in hand.
Zephyr’s thoughts came with a burst of images, the most interesting of which was our cadre inside the realmship. Outside the craft, the sky boiled with gem-toned color.
I blinked as I fired one of the gatekeeper’s quarrels into the ledge where we stood. Then, I looked below, planning my aperture.
It’s awfully far. I glanced at Wyatt before setting my sphere at the very door to the ziggurat with great effort. I couldn’t get any further inside without losing sight of it. Then I ignited the interface, mentally squeezing the sphere as hard as I could.
It hurt. For a moment, I thought I was going to give myself a stroke. Then, with just a tiny flicker, I saw the sphere burst into a blood-red flame.
Good work. Gideon clapped me on the back as I ignited the second aperture. Formation Delta. Let’s get in, get out, and go home.
Roger that. I could not help but grin at his bravado, but in the back of my heart, I knew the truth.
This was not going to be that simple.
19
Gideon stepped through first, his Seraph geared and shining that brilliant, golden light. Once we began planning, I realized that, with my disruptors out of commission, Gideon was the only truly battle-ready member of the cadre.
Fortunately the Seraph was a devastating piece of work.
Gideon stepped through the aperture and met several Drażeri as he did. They were fierce figures, bare chested but wearing loose black leggings. They carried long, curved swords that reminded me of the barbed sickle of an Egyptian khopesh crafted from ornately serrated jade. The edges were oddly curved and knapped impossibly thin.
I’m through. Gideon swung the Seraph to meet one of the Drażeri blades, shattering it where the two struck.
Copy, Alpha, Wyatt linked as he stepped through with Rachel, who was holding her stinger at the ready.
She hadn’t been through the aperture more than a moment before she fired injectables into an oncoming Drażeri. In an instant, the viral mecha came online and their defense variables cooked the servitor from the inside.
Even on the other side of the aperture, I smelled burnt, rancid meat.
As the nearby servitors writhed on the ground, still incapacitated from whatever trickery Zephyr had pulled, reinforcements streamed from within the ziggurat. Even so, every one of the Drażeri bled a bilious, yellow fluid through their many brands.
By the time I exited the aperture, Gideon had already killed two of them.
Wyatt, we need a crescent of spikes behind us. Give me a standard defensive configuration. Gideon stepped up to meet one of the soldiers, and I heard the sound of pottery cracking as he buried the Seraph blade in the soldier’s chest.
One flash fry, coming up. Wyatt patched us the wide path of spikes he was laying down. His Configuration One altered ambient temperature, creating a thin barrier of over five hundred degrees Centigrade.
Bishop, spearhead a path to the Grand Passage Gates of the Inner Sanctum. Gideon engaged another of the Drażeri, barely dodging one of its heavy blades.
On it. I had already spotted a relatively safe location, approximately fifty meters in front of us. The spacing was crucial, far enough for Wyatt to create another configuration before these Drazeri could reach our new position. I set the far aperture, dropped the near one into place, ignited them, and stepped away from my cadre in an instant.
The ziggurat entrance opened into a great hallway, wide and crafted of cunningly fit tile. Along each side of the hall were gargantuan, rough stones, which glowed with an eerie red l
ight, flickering as if each held a dim flame. Each of these floated several centimeters above a circular silver base.
I only had that dim, red light as illumination against the sable darkness.
The moment I stepped through, I created another set, opening fifty meters in front of me in the shadows of the temple.
In only a few moments, my entire cadre joined me, roughly a football field away from the Drażeri warriors. Pleased, I closed all the apertures.
It always surprises me when you aren’t useless. Wyatt grinned at me. Good work, Hoss. Think you can whip up something directly to the Broodwell?
I wish. I shook my head. I considered it, using the maps we have and conjecture, but I’d just hate to be wrong and end up in the center of a stone wall or adrift in the Maelstrom between worlds.
That’s fair. Wyatt nodded. I can always agree with NOT getting lost in the astral tides.
Even if Crowe hadn’t been well briefed on the twisting streets beneath the city, his packet contained fine details of the temple’s interior. Those maps seemed accurate, a major advantage, given the convoluted layout of the structure.
As if it had been built to confuse intruders, corridors loomed in every direction.
Based upon the data we have available, I am placing a visual beacon showing Locale One. Anya paused. However, I am still working out the preferred route. I see no reasonably direct path beyond the gates.
This thing’s a mess. Wyatt laid spikes as we moved forward into the darkness. Half of these corridors don’t go anywhere.
Wait. Rachel stopped, her brow furrowing. Listen.
I heard it grow louder even before she spoke, a ponderous, large sound like the grinding of great gears.
Alpha, that’s coming from our twelve. I looked to him before peering into the darkness. The dull glow of the stones was hardly enough to silhouette my companions, never mind revealing the corridor ahead.