by A. R. Knight
“Katherine did a lot of things without talking to people,” Bryce said. “Kept a lot of her own secrets. Still, it wasn’t like her to just disappear. At the same time, I had you to train. Chicago to run. A family. I didn’t have the time to look.”
I took a long sip of the drink. Felt the whiskey light up my tongue and traced its sweet fire down my throat and into my stomach. If my mother was in there, if she had stayed around this long, then there was a chance I could still find her.
“After the tower, after the mission, I’m going to have the sneak take me back to where she found the diary,” I said. “You should come with.”
Bryce nodded. “Your mother was a wonderful teacher. If she’s still there, I would love the chance to see her again.”
We spent the rest of the drink talking. Bryce sharing memories of my mother with me. Hunts they went on, and more random details, like what she preferred to drink. Where she liked to eat in Chicago. For the first time my mother began to seem like a real person.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” I said as we went back to the front door. Dinner was ready, and I had no right to keep Bryce and his family from their food.
“Because I was ordered not to,” Bryce actually seemed angry. “Piotr himself told me not to bring it up. Not till you were ready, and that he would decide when that was.”
“You’re breaking the rules?” I said. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“We already talked about it, remember?” Bryce said. “I’m retiring. I don’t care about the rules anymore.” He glanced at a clock ticking away along the wall. “Better get going. We’re meeting Alec in a couple of hours.”
My mother. The guide that a trained Bryce. I couldn’t, no, I could believe it. But what stuck with me more on the train ride to my apartment was the idea that she might still be there. Waiting for me.
“One more hunt, mother,” I muttered. “Then I’m coming for you.”
Chapter 41
Riven felt different with a group of guides. A trio like ours made the dark shadows tame. Like we could beat anything and anyone. I wanted some angry spirits to come out. Another ghoul maybe. It would be so easy.
Alec led us through the Warrens, towards where Piotr’s tower stood. We passed guides on the way, groups out filling their quota. Most greeted us with a wave, or a short conversation, but their faces brought my mood down.
“Things aren’t going well are they?” I said to Bryce. “Everyone looks stressed. Tired.”
“The war is getting worse. You’ve been outside of the loop,” Bryce said. There was a bit of accusation in that voice. Hinting that perhaps chasing after Graham might not be the best use of my time. “We’re closing breaches almost every day now. And we’re finding them later because there’s too many.”
“Is anyone trying to talk to the countries? Tell them the risk?”
“That’s why Piotr’s here in Chicago. He’s spending all day at the Spire trying to pitch our case. That whatever they’re fighting over isn’t worth it if Riven falls apart.”
“If it does, then their wars won’t matter,” Alec chimed in. “We’ll all be dead anyway.”
Bryce did not look amused.
Beyond the Warrens, the large apartments dwindled into smaller bits of buildings. Stores, warehouses, and broad tracts of land covered in containers. Train tracks went through and off to anywhere, nowhere. After thirty more minutes of marching we could see Riven’s wall in the distance and, rising above it, the tower.
At first I thought it was just another apartment building, a lonely one rising up from a bunch of single-story homes. As we got closer, though, I realized the tower wasn’t like the rest of Riven. Not an ancient construction of unknown origin. This thing had been built by our hands. Or by spirits.
From the outside, the tower looked like a hodgepodge of materials. Stone stacked on top of stone, but in different shades. With different design. The tower was a product of stolen stuff. A collage of crap pilfered from other buildings and shoved together.
“If that isn’t the ugliest building in Riven,” I started.
“It is,” Alec said. “My question is why? Who would build something like this and for what purpose?”
“I think that’s what Piotr wants us to find out,” Bryce said.
At its base, the tower was as wide as a block. Massive. The top was easily a dozen stories high. Thankfully, the door was easy to find. A hole in the mashed up stone. Like the rest of the tower, the door had been made with crude nails and boards stripped from other homes.
“Who wants the honors?” I asked.
“I don’t suppose we should knock?” Alec said.
“Piotr said guides were dying here,” Bryce said. “We don’t need to let them know we’re coming.”
Bryce went by me to the door and, voulge drawn in his right hand, pulled it open. The door wasn’t locked, and the hinges didn’t make any noise. The inside, unlike the gray of Riven, was lit with soft yellow fire.
We walked into the first room. The fire came from a series of small torches that lined the pool in the middle. A pool filled with more of Riven’s strange water. Behind it, climbing up the wall, was a stair. Along the sides of the room were more doors leading to who knows where.
“I’m going to admit it. This is not what I expected,” I said.
“Stay quiet,” Bryce said. “Keep your eyes open.”
“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” a hearty voice exclaimed. Coming down the stairs was an enormous spirit, fat and wearing what looked like a robe made of bedsheets. “I’m so happy you came. The master has been waiting for more friends.”
I glanced at Bryce, Alec did the same. Our leader stared at the fat spirit, his mouth slightly open.
“Who is your master?” Bryce said, recovering.
“Oh, you’ll meet him,” the spirit said. “Of course, we must be polite. The master so doesn’t like the ash in the air. I’m afraid it’s all over your clothes.”
The spirit gestured at us. He wasn’t wrong. Any long walk in Riven was going to leave you coated in ashy stuff.
“If you’ll kindly step into this pool and wash yourselves, then we can begin,” the spirit said.
“Wash ourselves?” I said. “Does your master know where we are? Cleanliness isn’t exactly a thing here.”
“Carver,” Bryce said.
“It’s quite all right,” the spirit interjected. “Remember, it is you who chose to come in to my master’s tower. Therefore, it is you who should abide by his wishes.”
“Where is your master?” Alec said. “Can we talk to him?”
The spirit pointed to the pool. I looked at the water. The clear liquid reflected the flames from the torches, creating blurry shades of yellow and orange along the walls of the room. Guides occasionally drank the non-water and it didn’t seem to have any effect. But I’d just had the salt of it the other night and it had chilled me to the core.
“I don’t like this,” I said.
“Agreed,” Bryce said. He turned to the spirit. “We’d like to see your master. We’re not going to wash ourselves in the pool.”
The spirit’s bright smile shifted to a deep frown and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, there really is no other way.”
“I bet we can climb up the outside,” Alec said.
Bryce nodded and the three of us turned back towards the exit. Only to see, standing in front of it, three other spirits. Also dressed in robes. Armed. Not with the usual rocks and sticks that spirits might find, but with swords. Long knives in their off hands. Guide weapons.
Around us the doors on the floor opened and more spirits came out. All of them had guide weapons - spears, axes, and more exotic ones. At least a dozen, maybe more.
“So many,” Bryce said. “So many guides here.”
“The master has many friends,” the large spirit said. “He always wants more. Please, wash yourselves.”
We were outnumbered and the spirits looked like they knew how to use
those weapons. There was a chance we could fight our way out of here, but the odds didn’t look good.
“The pool,” I said. “That’s my vote.”
“You see this?” Alec said. “These weapons, they came from the guides that died here. We either fight our way out, or we share their fate.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Bryce said. “We’d be slaughtered. We take the chance on the pool.”
“If we die in there,” Alec said. “I’m going to find both of your spirits and beat them to death again.”
The three of us went into the pool. I felt the water seeping along my boots, up my legs and up to my waist. It was cold, so cold. In seconds I lost all feeling in the lower half of my body.
“Please wash off your arms and head,” the spirit said. “Then we’ll be ready to go see the master.”
I glanced at Bryce and Alec, who shrugged. I reached my hands in the water, felt my fingers go numb as I cupped some of the stuff. Lifted it up to my head and poured it on.
Chapter 42
"It's truly fascinating how we can go back and forth. About how you have to be conscious, and yet unconscious. We put ourselves in two places at once. We are not truly alive here in Riven, but dying here, we die there."
I opened my eyes and saw the gray Riven sky above me. Only, there was glass. A skylight. An actual skylight in Riven. I'd never heard of someone being able to make that here, not even Nicholas.
I realized my hands were tied. My legs corded onto a board. I could turn my head; saw Bryce to my right and Alec to my left.
"Only the truly fascinating part happens when you kill a man while he's crossed into Riven. Then you have a true marvel. For he's not a spirit, no, not quite. But no longer a living thing," I couldn't see the speaker, but could tell he was in front of me. I tried to sit up, but could only lift my head forward, and not far enough.
"At first it seems like this purgatory would be worse than actually dying. You want to go to the Cycle. Then you find that perhaps all is not as bad as it seems. You find purpose, even in this place."
"Bryce?" I called. "Alec?"
"I'm awake," Bryce said. "Who are you?"
"Who am I?" the speaker said. "That doesn't really matter anymore does it? My spirits call me master. Before? I had a name then, when names mattered."
"Who is this guy?" I said. "I think he's lost it."
"Oh I have," the speaker said. "There's no denying it. Which is why I'm trying to get it back. Trying to find my way out."
"Graham?" I didn't think that's who it was, but I couldn't help but try.
"Don't talk of him," the speaker's voice burned. "That man has no idea what he's doing. He's reckless, arrogant. I prefer a more methodical approach."
"Barth?" Bryce said. "Is that you?"
"Barth?" the speaker said. "I suppose that may have been, once. I suppose that it may be again. No, no, will be again. That's right. Concentrate.”
"I thought you died years ago," Bryce said. Our heads were still strapped down, I watched Bryce stare at the ceiling and talk to the man. The speaker scurried into view. A hunched-over lanky figure wearing the same robes as the spirits. Pale and ghostly. He leaned over Bryce.
"Time is measured in moments here," Barth said. “Death is not the release some prefer to believe. For some it is a trap. A trap that they have to find their own way out of."
"What are you talking about?" Bryce said. "Let us go."
"Oh I will," Barth said, running a finger along Bryce's chest. "The way out is just a matter of finding one. Just one is all you need."
Barth scuttled out of sight, back to the other side of the room. I heard him messing around with various objects, clattering things against the ground. Bryce continued to ask for release, but Barth didn't bother to answer.
"Now here they are. I can't choose, you see. Too hard to know who should go. These can help," Barth said.
A moment later I heard a trio of knocks, small objects bouncing off the floor. When the noise stopped, Barth giggled.
"Why look at that. It's number two. What an excellent choice," Barth said. I felt my board lurch, slide along some lever until I was upright, my feet a foot above the floor. Beneath me, looking up at my face with a broken grin, was Barth.
On the ground I saw what had made the choice. What had made the noise. A trio of skulls. Two of them resting with their eyes looking up at me, the third on its side.
"You see? Your friends? They chose you," Barth said.
Chapter 43
When you're tied down, you feel like all you want to do is escape. I wanted to break my arms and legs free and run. Having a trio of skulls at my feet didn't exactly calm me down. Neither did the crazed glint in Barth's eyes.
"Bryce, I think I might be in trouble here," I said.
“Stay calm," Bryce said. "Look for a way out."
A way out. With my arms and legs tied? There wasn't an easy option. In front of me Barth returned to his desk and dug through a pile of random tools. Some knives, a hammer, and a couple of saws among other, smaller, knickknacks. I got the distinct feeling that any and perhaps all of them would be used on me.
I touched my fingers to the board. Wood, but frail. Thin. If I pressed against it, maybe I'd have a chance. I tried to clench my fists and hit them against the board. They bounced off. I couldn't get enough force. Barth, meanwhile, hummed a tune. One I recognized. A song from twenty years ago but that still played on radios today. Barth hummed the simple jingle while he straightened his murderous tools.
"Lean forward," Alec said from my right. "I can see the lever holding you. It's not very strong. You can throw it off."
Okay. Another thing to try. I lunged my head forward, tried to pull my body with it. The board groaned but didn't shift.
"Again," Alec said.
Barth seemed oblivious. Laying out the tools to the side. So far, two knives and that little hammer. Was not looking forward to whatever he was going to do with those. I went forward again. This time I heard a crack, the board starting to give way at the back.
Barth heard it to.
The strange man turned to me, his eyes blazing. "So you like to play with things that are not yours. Break my toys. That is not very nice. New friends should be respectful."
“I’m definitely not your friend," I said.
"Not yet, maybe," Barth said, grabbing a long thin knife and coming towards me. “Soon you will be."
As Barth reached towards me with the knife I went forward again. This time the board snapped free and I fell ahead. Smashed myself into Barth as he came close and knocked us both to the ground. My forehead hit his, and the world jerked for a moment. The ropes holding my arms and legs kept me from catching myself, so as a I rolled off Barth, my face smashed into the floor. Not my best move, but at least I was free from the lever.
Barth was muttering some incomprehensible nonsense as he pushed himself away from me. I reached for the knife, my hands still tied but, without the lever holding me in place, I was able to slither myself across the floor. Shove with my toes and my hands towards the blade that Barth dropped. The madman seemed too distracted to notice.
My left hand closed around the hilt of the blade when I heard a scraping noise. I couldn't look up, couldn't see what Barth was doing, but that sound probably meant pain was fast approaching. With my left hand, I spun the blade around, twisting the hilt through my fingers to bring the edge to rest against the cords. Now it was a matter of getting a strong enough grip to actually cut them.
"Carver, roll right!" Bryce said. I didn't think; kicked off the floor with my toes and tried to shift the board. I felt the wood hit something soft, and Barth squealed in pain. I heard him fall to the ground, another clatter as he dropped whatever tool he'd picked up from the table.
I adjusted my left hand again, trying to get a solid grip. I finally had it between two pairs of fingers, and worked the knife up and down. The cords were thick and I didn't have much pressure. Or time.
"Help me out," I said
. "What's he doing?"
"Friends shouldn't talk out of turn," Barth replied. Not who I was hoping to hear from.
"I can't see enough," Bryce said.
"He's got the hammer," Alec called. Then I felt the impact. Barth had jumped on my back. On the board. Pressed me into the ground. He hit the board behind my head with a hammer, pressing my face into the stone. Grinding my jaw into the rock.
The weight also pressed down on the blade in my hand. Pushed it against the cords and let it cut faster. A couple of seconds later and I felt the sting as the knife cut through the cords and into my own wrist. I focused, leaned hard on my right side as Barth continued to pound with the hammer. The lean gave my freed left hand just enough space to plant my palm against the ground. I pushed.
Barth was a small man and when I shoved the board over he flew off and rolled across the ground. I grabbed the blade again and, with my free wrist, cut my legs and right hand loose. Stood up from the board in time to see Barth swinging the hammer at my face. I got my right hand up, caught Barth's wrist before he could bring the hammer down, and then ripped the hammer away from him.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you to play nice?" I said, brandishing both weapons.
Barth shrank away, dancing back behind his desk. "New friends are nasty. Not very nice at all. If they don't want to see the way out, then they will stay here, in the dark."
The man give a bloodcurdling shriek, and I heard pounding on the stairs. The tower shook as Barth's spirits responded to their master's call. This place was about to get really, really crowded.
Chapter 44
I threw the hammer into Barth’s face, smashing his nose and knocking out his scream. He collapsed behind the desk. I went to Alec, who was a few steps closer than Bryce. Slashed his left hand free.
“Behind you,” Bryce called. I let go of the knife and spun around. The fat spirit that had greeted us stood at the top of the stairs wielding a familiar lash. The friendly face he’d worn was gone, replaced by malevolent insanity. With his eyes wide and mouth gibbering nonsense, the spirit attacked. Snapped the lash at my face.