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The Forked Path

Page 17

by T. R. Thompson


  To Wilt’s eyes the world was a grey, flat plain, lit here and there by firelight and the brighter flash of life, a glow that called to him, urging him onward to reach out and extinguish it. Glimmering shapes lay all around him, prone bodies still wrapped in sleep, unaware of the dangers that threatened not metres away. Further on, at the edge of the camp closest to the river, a struggling figure seemed to be wrestling with the night itself before falling in a heap, its light fading into the soil. There.

  He blinked across the campsite, arriving just as the last of the light from the human form seemed to melt into the grey of the landscape. From the direction of the river, what looked like enormous black crabs were scuttling over each other, pouring out of the waters to flow over their waiting victims. They were about the same size as the wild boars Wilt had hunted in the Tangle, though now and then one reared up on its hind legs and became large enough to strike a man in the chest.

  The first few travellers taken didn’t know what hit them. They were swamped in moments, flailing under the swarm of creatures, their cries of sudden terror smothered by the evil things that ended them so effortlessly.

  Wilt reached his hand out to the closest creature, his fingers a twisting nest of thin black welds that shot out toward it. As they struck they seemed to fuse into the thing, not slowing it for a second, and Wilt felt only the briefest glimpse of a connection, a yawning cavern of silence where the creature’s mind should have been.

  The nightmare form turned and darted straight at him, leaping at the last moment to land squarely on his chest. Were he in human form his life would have ended then, sucked out of him in a flash of pain as claws ripped him apart. But Wilt was no longer simply human, he was something more. The creature fell through the black mist of welds that was Wilt, and the surface world dropped away as they both sunk into the chaos of the depths.

  He was riding a horse, the sun hot on his back as he bounced in the saddle. Catherine rode beside him, her long blonde hair flowing in the wind, falling across her shoulders until she reached up to pull it back, and then turned to smile at him. He returned the smile and urged his mount on, faster and faster, each racing the other to the edge of the river bank, to the shaded spot they’d discovered weeks ago. Their secret place. Where they could rest and be sure of no disturbance. Where they could lay together. Where nothing else mattered.

  —Wilt.—

  The world shifted, and he was standing in a darkened hut, a blacksmith’s hut. Standing beside his father, holding tight to his enormous hand as they watched the smith do his work. The blacksmith wielded a hammer bigger than his head, bigger even than the tools in his father’s workshop. He doubted even his father could lift the thing, and his father was the strongest man in the village. The smith struck down on the anvil one last time, then doused the blade he was shaping in a large bucket, sending clouds of steam into the air. He coughed and wiped his eyes to clear them, then stared as the smith smiled and held the small sword out to him, hilt first. ‘Go on,’ his father urged. ‘It’s yours.’

  —Wilt, these are not your memories. Don’t lose yourself in the welds. Come back to the surface.—

  Seline lay on the pillow, trying to catch her breath, adrenaline coursing through her as she stared up at the beams of the ceiling, willing them to stay in place as the world spun around her. His hand tightened on her shoulder, and she tried to smile in return but her face would not obey. Then the midwife urged her again, and the pain took over, until the world suddenly opened with a baby’s cry, calling out to its mother, calling out to her.

  —Biore, what can we do? It’s too much, too much to hold. Too fast.—

  —These must be the memories of people the creature has already taken. Maybe if we try to redirect the flow to …—

  Her sword slashed down, cutting directly through the weak point at the shoulder of her attacker. The soldier fell with a choked cry, and she spun around to face the next one, aware there was no time to think, just act, trust her training and her honed instincts. Her blade shot out and up, parrying the death blow that had been slicing down at her head. She wheeled around with the force, allowing her blade to drop as she pirouetted, then reversed its direction and slashed across the soldier’s belly.

  —Someone closer. That’s it. We have to direct them out of the flow, back into Wilt’s mind. This one. Hold this one.—

  She was bent over double, hands on her knees, hair falling over her face and sweat dripping from her forehead to mingle with the blood pooling on the ground. Breathe. Recover. There are more coming.

  She stood up and held her blade directly out, challenging her next victim. It was a wolf, far larger than was natural, its eyes filled with a knowledge that was more than animal, more than human. It padded toward her, its bared teeth grinning in anticipation.

  —Daemi. We’re seeing through Daemi’s eyes. How is that possible?—

  —She shares a very strong connection with Wilt. This is a memory, a dream, not to be trusted. But it might just be something we can use.—

  The wolf sprang, its front paws on her impossibly quickly, and it was all she could do to fall and roll with its momentum, allowing the wolf’s claws to rake her chest piece, trusting in the strength of the steel, then bouncing to her feet. The wolf was quicker still, already in the air, launching at her legs now, knocking her feet from under her to send her cart-wheeling over its back. As she spun she glimpsed bright blue sky and the shadow of an eagle high above, circling the battle.

  She landed on her knees and only just brought her blade up in time to bat the wolf’s next strike away. It adjusted its leap in mid-air, twisting to the side and out of reach, landing on all four feet and circling her, its grin now a snarl of frustration, its eyes wary of this human’s speed and skill. Still, it was confident. It was faster. Too fast for her.

  —Here. Let me try. I think I can …—

  A shadow passed over the wolf’s vision then, a strange black mist that took its attention away. Something foreign, something that didn’t belong, not in this world, not in this time. Its hackles raised and a low growl emanated out of its throat.

  —Biore? What are you doing? Where are you … ?—

  —It’s the only way, the only way to bring him back. To bring you both back. Ah! The rush of it. To be truly inside the welds, bending them, taking control. This is what true power means.—

  —But …—

  —I know what I’m doing! Trust me, after searching for so many years, to have finally found this. I think it’s what I was always meant to do.—

  The wolf hadn’t attacked. It just stood there, growling at her. No, not at her, at something else. Something only it could see. She didn’t question her luck. She surged to her feet and charged, her blade held high, ready to deliver the killing blow.

  The wolf saw the human coming and knew it was lost, but couldn’t do anything to save itself. It was held in place, its mind locked by something dark and cold, something that wormed into its mind and stayed there, pushing its animal consciousness down.

  She sliced the blade down with all her strength and cut deep into the wolf’s skull, ending its life in an instant. Its eyes faded out, and for a moment she saw a spark of recognition that burned out into stillness and death. She fell to her knees in exhaustion, her blade dropping from her hand.

  The vision faded as they rose out of the depths, up to the surface world and the reality of the present.

  Wilt opened his eyes and sat up. He was surrounded by bodies, human bodies, their eyes open and devoid of life. He sprang to his feet and spun around, searching for the creatures that had attacked him.

  Wilt? It worked. We’re back.

  Back from where?

  I don’t know. That thing sucked us down into the depths, further than we’ve ever been, into a wash of other people’s memories, the flashes of life they saw before they died. We were drowning in them until Biore … I don’t think he came back with us.

  Wilt didn’t have time to figure out what H
iggs meant. Only metres away another of the nightmare shapes was scuttling toward him, its evil claws held high, ready to claim another easy victim.

  Without thinking Wilt drew the weld blade and dropped into a fighting stance he had never been trained for. The creature threw itself at him and he spun underneath it, twirling the blade in an arc above his head as it passed over him, slicing into its carapace. The weld blade seemed to melt into the creature, cutting through it without resistance. A moment later only black dust remained, dust that held its form for an instant before collapsing into nothingness.

  Wilt stared at the spot where the creature had been, and then down at the weld blade in his hand. It was shining silver-blue in the darkness, calling to him, speaking to something in his mind that recognised it and answered its call. He felt the power and hunger that lurked within him flare into life. His body faded into a black mist and the wraith moved away, glowing sword in hand, searching for its next victim.

  Another of the creatures leaped out of the darkness and the wraith moved inhumanly quickly to meet it, the weld blade spinning out of its form in a deadly thrust that pierced the centre of the scuttling body. As it sunk home, its pool of stolen memories flowed into the blade and through Wilt, no longer taking his consciousness with them, sinking through him and down into the spinning depths.

  Wilt.

  I’m here. I’m okay.

  Biore did something, gave us something from the memories. A way to fight back. Something from Daemi too, a part of her. It’s like we’ve taken on her training, her abilities.

  I know. Now we need to use them.

  The wraith cut across the campsite, toward the sounds of struggle and the glow of still living forms falling under the onrushing tide of darkness that flowed out from the riverbank. All thought was forgotten, the wraith no longer aware of Wilt or Higgs in its mind, not recognising anything but the hunger, the pull of the depths that reached out to each scuttling thing, draining it completely, its sword striking home again and again, pulling each one with it into oblivion.

  It seemed to take only moments, but dawn was breaking when Wilt next became aware of himself, of the separation between the surface world and the depths, between the past and the present, between reality and dream. He took a deep, shuddering breath, his lungs burning with the cold morning air.

  They’re gone. They’re all gone.

  Wilt looked around at the scattered bodies at his feet, all human. No sign remained of the nightmare creatures that had ended so many lives. He raised his eyes to the river, a dark vein cutting through the landscape, its water black and silent.

  The weld blade. It—

  Drained them. Fed on them, just like a wraith.

  Wilt looked at the blade still clutched in his hand. It no longer glowed with a blue light, its liquid silver surface seeming almost natural in the growing dawn.

  26

  Heather woke to the sound of the wind in the trees, a heavy sigh building to a roar before fading again, like the rhythmic rush of the ocean—at least, that’s what she had always been told the ocean sounded like. She’d never been closer than a week’s travel from its endless blue horizons. A sudden memory flashed before her of her uncle leaning down to hold a shell to her ear, her thoughts wiped away in an instant as the waves came to life inside her mind.

  ‘You’re awake.’

  Heather opened her eyes to see Daemi standing above her, all three packs at her feet, an impatient expression on her face.

  ‘We need to move. We’re still days away from the capital, if we can even find our way out of this place.’

  ‘Where’s Frankle?’ Heather asked sleepily as she sat up.

  Daemi pointed to her left and Heather saw Frankle lying on the thick moss of the forest floor, a low snore rattling out of him. She grinned at the sight. Who would have thought such a little body could make such a racket in its sleep?

  She turned back to Daemi. ‘Did you see—’

  ‘Never mind what each of us saw.’ Daemi stopped the conversation before it began. It was obvious from her tone there would be no more discussion. Whatever Daemi had experienced here in the Tangle, she wasn’t ready to share it. ‘Wake him up.’

  Heather rolled to her feet and padded over the soft ground to where Frankle lay. She reached out and shook his shoulder gently.

  ‘Huh?’

  Frankle stared up at her, not recognising her face, his mind still lost in a dream.

  ‘Frankle. It’s me. Time to get up.’

  ‘Heather. I was having the strangest …’

  He sat up and looked around the forest clearing, noticing Daemi’s impatient stance. ‘Though I don’t suppose now’s the time.’

  ‘Come. You can tell me about what you saw later. I don’t think Daemi’s in the mood.’

  Heather helped him to his feet and walked them over to where Daemi stood, glaring at them. ‘We need to get moving. We’ve already wasted too much time here.’

  ‘It’s okay, Daemi.’ Frankle smiled into the face of her grumpiness. ‘I’m sure our friends are on the way.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  A high cry echoed across the sky, and Heather called out and waved with joy at the sight of the giant eagle spiralling down through the air currents toward them.

  ‘Oh no.’ Daemi’s shoulder’s slumped as she watched the creature approach.

  ‘You didn’t think they’d abandon us here, did you?’ Frankle’s smile just got wider. ‘Don’t worry, Daemi. I’ll look after you.’

  With that he sat down on his pack and waited as their transportation glided down from the open sky.

  Frankle grinned and Heather let out another exalted cry of joy as the great eagle they were riding leaned into a swooping turn, racing over the fields below, somehow seeming to gain even more speed as it banked.

  His grin morphed into a grimace as Daemi’s fists squeezed his waist in response. A low groan of nausea and dread reached his ears, and he thought momentarily about turning to check on her, but decided against it. Whatever she was going through, he couldn’t help. She’d just have to ride it out until their journey was ended.

  That wouldn’t be too far away. Already they had left the southern edge of the Tangle behind, the green carpet of trees ending abruptly to be replaced first by barren plains, which then separated into fenced off squares, the browns and greens and yellows arranging themselves into a chequered blanket of farmland.

  They’d been flying for over half the day, not stopping for any breaks, as though the eagle knew of a new sense of urgency to their mission. More than once Frankle had considered speaking up, screaming something into Heather’s ear about taking a five-minute break, allowing Daemi some mercy from the experience she so clearly dreaded. Yet he never quite did, always being held back by something he couldn’t put into words, almost weld-like in its feeling. A knowledge that there were deeper powers at work, and that now was not the time to influence them.

  Heather had a similar feeling. She had no problem flying onward, the eagle soaring in and out of the low clouds, banking low to gain speed before curving up into the heavens. Each pitch and turn sent sparks of adrenaline shooting through her, though she remained aware of how Daemi was suffering. There simply wasn’t any way to help until they were back on firm ground, and it was clear the eagle was planning on completing their journey in as short a time as possible.

  That was something else she’d noticed—the change in the eagle itself. Previously she’d been able to perceive an inkling of humanity inside it, some hint of the man that had shared the creature’s mind. Stax, that was the name Nurtle had used. That humanity was buried deep now, deeper than she could sense. On their first flight it had felt as though that consciousness had been hidden under a thick cloak, its shape still there to be made out once they knew what they were looking for. Now even that was gone, and there was only a tingling sense of something other about the creature they rode upon. The wildness had grown, had fully taken over.

  Her thoug
hts snapped back to the present as the first sight of towers in the distance appeared, thin tall structures jutting out of the landscape. The farmland below them had become increasingly compressed, and roads crisscrossed through it, but this was their first glimpse of what had to be their destination. She kept her eyes locked on the buildings, watching them grow taller as they raced toward them.

  Unlike Redmondis, Sontair was a sprawling city built with no thought other than revelling in its own glory. No planner had designed its layout, no logic plotted its streets. It had twisted itself out of the ground in increments as more and more people flooded in over the decades, towers and walls forming up around them, fencing them inside a great stone city the like of which none of the young travellers had ever seen.

  Even Daemi ceased her groaning as they flew closer and the full size of the capital dawned on them. It was enormous, easily ten times the area of Redmondis, which itself had been the largest township any of the three had experienced in their short lives. The outer wall that ringed the city’s borders had to be at least twenty feet high, and inside them seemingly every second building was a tower that reached up toward the sky, straining in competition with its neighbours to be the tallest, the most glorious, the envy of its neighbourhood. The whole city seemed to surge out of the ground, the streets twisting up the central hill of the city to the grand silver castle that formed its shining centrepiece. Sontair. The jewel of the south.

  The eagle let out another cry and banked again, sharply now, curving away from the sight of the city and heading out toward the deserted farmland. Minutes later it was gliding in to land, in the centre of the closest empty-looking field. As it touched down, Sontair had once again shrunk to a distant bump on the horizon.

  All three of them tried to catch their breath as the dust cloud the eagle had created settled around them.

 

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