Battle Across Worlds

by Dean Chalmers

  “Heralds of a new age,” Ralley read. “Enter, da’ta se. We’re the other part of the legacy, then?”

  “Yes!” she shook her head, amazed. “Love, you are learning our language so fast. Even this antique script is clear to you.”

  “Five hundred years,” Ralley whispered. “Five hundred years this was sealed, waiting for you.”

  “Waiting for us,” she said, correcting him, and then she took his face in her hands, kissed him lightly.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked. “Because of the tension engendered by the aon link of the da’ta se?”

  “No,” she said. “Because of you. Because your green eyes are like shimmering jade, and your hair is like beautiful flame—and because your smile make me as giddy as a servant girl who’s just drunk a whole jug of wine.”

  “You are so beautiful.” He pulled her close and kissed her again. “And poetic, too.”

  He held her hand as they approached the Tomb door. When they were a few feet away, it slid aside of its own accord with the soft scraping of smooth stone, revealing a dark cavern within.

  Taxamia removed a small silver cylinder from the pack at her waist. She rotated the top of it so that a hair-thin slit was revealed in the side, brilliant ambia light flaring out from the narrow opening.

  “It’s an ambia lamp,” she explained. “Burns perpetually so long as the energy is contained. There’s a very thin crystal layer inside to shield the opening and keep the ambia from escaping.”

  In the white light, Ralley saw that they were in a large cavern supported by crystalline pillars. The walls were of glassy dark crystal, and in the center of the room was a pedestal topped by little dark pyramid, small enough for a man to hold in his hand …

  “The Key of Oberkion,” he whispered.

  “Be careful,” Taxamia told him. She moved her lamp so that it shone down on an opening in the floor. “There are several shafts in the floor here. More than one Order Technician has fallen down …”

  “What are they for, I wonder?” Ralley asked, peering into the opening that slanted down into the stone. He saw a silvery glittering from the sides of the shaft, but not much else.

  “We’re not sure. The walls at the bottom have some unusual aon properties … tend to isolate the aona inside from the rest of the universe. They’re inlaid with veins of silver, some kind of complex latticework woven into the stone. But what such a thing might be used for, we don’t know.”

  Ralley stepped towards the Key, and the Princess followed with the light. The little pyramid seemed oddly delicate up close, the dull black surface beckoning him to touch it … but he waited for Taxamia.

  After setting the lamp on the ground, she knelt in front of the pedestal. She removed a slender tool of pure silver from her pack, then touched the needle-like tip of it to the apex of the pyramid.

  “I’m going to try to open the way to your world,” she said. “But I don’t think I can do it alone. There have been … complications. Even so, with your strength, I may be able to press through.”

  He nodded, and offered her his hand.

  In a moment, he could actually feel her concentrating, the force of her will echoing in his own mind. He closed his eyes, willing his strength to be hers. He felt his heart pounding, heat burned along his spine, and then everything else faded and he was calm—the fiery state upon him.

  He opened his eyes and watched Taxamia. Her face was nearly expressionless, her eyes focused on her task—she too had found the inner fire. She ran the tool along the vertexes of the pyramid-shaped Key, tapped it as if she were sounding its depths. She ran the tool up to the tip again—

  —and the Key flared, glowing with ambia, a crackling halo of the white energy surrounding it for a split second before it sputtered and faded.

  Taxamia withdrew her tool, and Ralley felt his own body cool as the fiery state left them both.

  He stroked her neck as she bowed her head, sobbing softly.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Ahh …” she sighed, “It’s no use! I cannot open the way. It is blocked from the other side.”

  “Blocked?” he asked. “How?”

  “I am not sure. At first I thought that it was a result of the other half of the Key suffering some kind of aon decay. But I now think that the barrier must be purposeful, and Master Gaelti agrees.”

  “You speak of the other half of the Key?” he asked. “So it exists across both worlds?”

  “In a way, yes. The Key consists of two shells—like this,” she said, pointing to the pyramid on the pedestal in front of her. “There is one in each world. Each houses a specially refined aon. Normally, aona are unique, each very different from the next, even if they are part of the same object. But the two aona that form the Key are very similar. All that is required is to tune the Key on one end slightly to match the state of the other. When their states match, the two aona literally become one for a short period of time. When they do, the space above them also converges. Thus, it is possible to transport objects—or people—from the location of one half of the Key, to that of the other.”

  “So there would have been a room like this one under the platform on the island from which I came?”

  She nodded. “Oberkion wrote that the Garatayne chamber was under a raised mound.”

  So that’s the secret of the faerie mound, Ralley thought. Won’t the Guardian be surprised …

  “What about the ambia energy?” he asked. “I saw it just now, flaming around the Key. What creates that?”

  “When the aona of the Key converge, it creates something of a paradox. Each aon should be unique; this is the pattern of the universe, a natural law. The breaking of this law creates the paradox energy called ambia. There is a reservoir under this chamber to store some of this energy. But …” she paused, sighing, closing her eyes.

  “Love, what is wrong?” he asked. He could sense her sudden despair, feel a tightness in his own chest.

  She bit her lips, her eyes red and wet. “There is something you should know. Something I do not think even Master Gaelti completely understands. Ambia is generated by the link between worlds, yes? Even a temporary link, open for a fraction of a second, produces some of the energy—as you saw. But, when the Baek Tayon attacked the Tomb of Oberkion and kidnapped me, they also released the ambia in the reservoir here, leaving us with only a limited supply. Before long, we will have none to power our flyers or our weapons.”

  “So we can open a link and create more ambia?” Ralley suggested. “I will help.”

  She shook her head. “No, I do not think we can. As I said, it is blocked from the other side. When you were on the other side, in your own world, I could use our link to focus my efforts and temporarily break through the barrier. Even after I was captured, when you stood on the platform in your world, I was able to sense you. Our link remotely triggered the Key. How I longed to bring you here, my love!”

  She sobbed again. “Ironically, now that you are here with me, there is no way to overcome the block. I no longer have an anchor in your world to aid me.”

  “But I am at your side to aid you now, love,” Ralley said, stroking her arm. “And I’m not giving up yet.”

  She looked at him questioningly.

  “Persistence,” he said. “An old Garataynian virtue. Or is that obstinance? Anyway, let me see if I can help …”

  She raised her silver tool to touch the pyramid, and he placed his hand on hers. Concentrated, feeling the link between them, the heat of the inner fire again …

  There was a flash, a flickering aura of white in the air above the pyramid, dancing upward like an oversized candle flame. It only lasted for a fraction of a second, though, and then was gone.

  “No good,” she said. “The resistance is just too strong. Someone in your world does NOT want us to open a link—that is the only explanation.”

  “But who would do that, love?” he asked, wondering aloud …

  #

  “So they
are trying to break through again?” Guardian Crandolph asked, his voice echoing from the dark crystalline walls of the cavern. He knelt at the edge of the well-shaft, listening to his Master, Krotan, who rested at the bottom.

  Yes, trying! Them! The Key flashes white—twice!

  The Master’s voice was a hiss punctuated by choked, throaty gurgles. His own language, the Krael tongue, was beyond human comprehension. But the Guardian was connected to Krotan, destined from birth to serve the Krael species. He could understand by virtue of his gifts.

  They will not give up. They will be coming soon.

  “But we have the blocking mechanism?” The Guardian turned to look at the wooden framework and the silver claw-like device that hung suspended from it. The claw was poised over the ancient pedestal, as if about to crush the pyramid-shaped Key in its grip.

  That did not help before. Someone crossed through. Humans to assist THEM. THEY will be here soon. Hate me and are jealous of me!

  “Then you will want to go ahead with the next step of the plan?”

  One more test first. But must be NOW! A test with many subjects. All in this house must come.”

  “All of them? But my child is to be spared until the end … we had agreed? And the boy … I know he has caused you grief, but I will see that he is unable to do so again while he is here.”

  I need MANY subjects.

  There was an uncomfortable pause, and the Guardian shivered.

  Finally, the Master hissed again:

  Use your servants. Enough for now. Then soon, next step … Many more. Many, many more and the glory of Krotan over ALL.

  “How many of the servants do you need?”

  ALL of them.

  “I see. Very well.”

  Do this and I will rest. Prepare.

  Guardian Crandolph left the cavern and his Master’s presence. There was a sadness pressing on him; hardly a crushing burden, but he felt it nonetheless.

  It was foolish, really. Soon, they would all join the Master—himself and Julea and her soon-to-be husband Mister Edwyn Bocke included.

  If his household staff had to go first—had the privilege of going first—why should he feel as if he were betraying them?

  He shook his head to clear it useless sentiments, then went to find Mr. Starks.

  They’d need to get the auxiliary limbs of the aon amplifier in place, the lines of silvered rope attached to link them …

  Then there was the matter of the ambia booster, the Master’s latest invention. It should prevent any problems such as they’d had with young Bocke, make resistance to the process useless.

  Soon, the Master would share the blessing of his soul with so, so many mere humans. The end of days for man in Garatayne was swift approaching, but then a new dawn would arise:

  The age of Krotan.

  -23-

  Jack looked down, surveying the landing platform below him as the bulky transport flyer he rode in made its descent into the fortress high above the river.

  Xai Kaor, Ralley had said it was called. Great Door to the South. The last time they’d had to depart the place in a hurry, and in a stolen flyer …

  Workers below used their long hook-poles to catch the rungs on the side of their flyer and guide it in, struggling to keep the morning’s brisk wind from snatching the craft away.

  He was on the larger side of the river-cliff fortress, on the same side of the river as the royal palace and capital city, Laer, which was upstream … How far? Twenty or so miles? Flyers traveled so fast, it was hard to judge the distance.

  The giant stone bridge which had joined the two halves of the fortress and had provided a path over the river was still shattered. Workers were setting up some kind of wooden scaffolding, some dangling by ropes under the broken lip of the bridge, hammering iron spikes into place which would undoubtedly serve as supports for a temporary bridge structure.

  Jack was supposed to meet Ralley and Taxamia here at the cliff-side fortress; but there was someone else he was hoping to see as well …

  A bouquet of flowers rested in Jack’s lap, wrapped in soft linen cloth. They were brilliant blooms, each featuring a multitude of purple petals radiating out from a bright yellow center. He’d seen them in one of the palace gardens and had used hand motions to ask one of the caretakers if he might have some of them.

  He was glad he’d made the effort; now, if he saw her, he’d have a peace offering …

  The pilot raised the canopy of the flyer and the occupants disembarked. Several of the blue-clad Xa Ashaon guards followed behind Jack, though not too closely …

  Perhaps he had earned some measure of trust?

  Just then, Jack caught sight of a tall, graceful figure exiting the structure at the far end of the platform. Her yellow-brown skin was radiant in the sunlight, and her abundant raven curls blew in the wind like a queenly veil.

  Lovely Tesha!

  Jack strode forward to meet her, his Xa Ashaon escorts trailing a leisurely distance behind him.

  When Tesha saw him, she closed her eyes and turned her head away. Undaunted, he doffed his plumed hat and bowed before her, the flowers in his outstretched arm.

  “Jack,” she said, pronouncing his name as if it left a bad taste in her throat.

  Hmm, he thought. She’s being a little bit theatrical about this, isn’t she?

  “Miss Tesha,” he said, “I offer these blooms as a tribute to your beauty. I hope you will accept my apology for my actions of yesterday. I would not have absconded with that magnificent flyer had the need not been pressing. I have the utmost respect for your work—and for you, lady. I must confess that the image of your wondrous visage haunts my mind.”

  She raised her arm, and for a second he thought she might slap him. But then her hand snapped out, and she grabbed the flowers from him.

  “Aen Kion,” she said, and nodded to him, unsmiling.

  She was thanking him—he felt sure. Squinting at him, she still looked angry.

  But he was now certain that a large part of this was an act.

  Ladies, he sighed inwardly. Same on any world. Nothing’s ever straightforward when it comes to the fairer sex.

  Then, without another word, she turned and walked back into the building she’d just left.

  All right, he thought. He’d have to give her time. She was different, this one, so angry and proud …

  But she was definitely worth the effort.

  It was a pity that they couldn’t talk to each properly, given the language barrier. If only there were something they could share, some way for him to break through …

  #

  Ralley and the Princess Taxamia flew towards the fortress of Xai Kaor in Orcus Gaelti’s personal flyer: a fearsome looking, bronze-plated craft with a golden ram’s head jutting from the front of it.

  Taxamia had explained to Ralley that the ram was the symbol of Kion, the God of wisdom, whom the Order served—though recently their research into aon technology had taken precedence over any ceremonial duties.

  The two sat along with Gaelti on a long couch behind the pilot’s seat. Something was troubling the princess; Ralley could feel the tension in her shoulders when he wrapped his arm around her. Her anxiety was beginning to affect Ralley, too.

  He reached down and touched the grip of his rapier, which had been polished and returned to him, and which now hung attached to his old belt which he wore over his Dameryan tunic. He hoped he’d have no need for it, but it was reassuring to have the sword at his side again.

  As they soared over the river, Taxamia turned to Gaelti, who seemed lost in some deep and private thoughts.

  “Master Gaelti,” she asked. “Forgive me if this is an odd question, but … Well, while I was captured, Benion said something about Lanaya. Comparing her to you.”

  He turned his head to her, nodding slowly. “I would have expected such from a traitor to our Order. What specific points of comparison did he make?”

  “Nothing specific, sir. But he said you were alik
e in nature. And it made me think that I haven’t seen … “ She grew quiet, as if afraid to say it, afraid of his reaction.

  “My eyes.” He casually tapped his eye-shield, and did not seem the least bit surprised by the accusation.

  “Yes, Master Gaelti. I know I can’t trust his accusations, but I am curious.”

  “Master—you have some kind of affinity for the aon technology, correct?” Ralley asked. “Is it that Lanaya and yourself are somehow akin to Taxamia and I, similar in talents?”

  “That is highly observant of you,” Gaelti said. “And the conclusion is not inaccurate. But there are many other factors of which you are still ignorant.”

  “Isn’t it important for us to know everything we can, before we begin the search for the Baek Tayon base?” Ralley asked.

  Gaelti shook his head. “You are as informed as you need to be for now. Once the present crisis has passed, I will share all I know with you. But I have reasons for keeping my own confidence in these matters, and Phaedon trusts me to do so when necessary.”

  So he was keeping secrets. Jarlus’s suspicions had been right, at least to an extent …

  The flyer soon made its descent to the landing platform of Xai Kaor. As they disembarked, Ralley saw Jarlus and a cluster of Xa Ashaon guards standing near a transport flyer nearby. Jack was with them, impossible to miss in his scarlet coat and plumed hat, waving and running towards them as they approached.

  The Dragoon bowed to the Princess, then clasped Ralley’s hand.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you, Ralley?” Jack asked. “I know we’ve discussed this, but I still feel like I’m abandoning you two.”

  Ralley shook his head. He would miss his friend’s company, but they all had their own duties now. “No, Jack. Jarlus’s people know the jungles well, and their small scout group should be sufficient. Besides, you’re needed here, right now. Phaedon himself said so.”