by Clayton Wood
“Right,” Erasmus mumbled.
“And say that each sensory rune on the array, when triggered, was linked to one of these effector runes...and burned their specific pattern into the paper.”
“So the paper would record which runes were triggered,” Erasmus reasoned.
“Exactly,” Kalibar confirmed. “And if you moved the paper quickly from one roller to the other while the sensory runes were being triggered...”
“Then you could figure out which runes were triggered when!” Erasmus exclaimed, his eyes widening.
“...because the patterns would be burned from one side of the paper to the other, in the order they were triggered,” Kalibar confirmed. “Then you'd just have to string the printed fragments together...”
“And you'd have your full pattern!” Erasmus nearly shouted. “You lousy bastard,” he declared, punching Kalibar in the shoulder, making him grunt. “Damned if you're not onto something!” Then he frowned. “But what does this have to do with winning the war?” he asked. “Learning the feathergrass pattern isn't exactly going to strike terror into the hearts of our enemies.”
“Agreed,” Kalibar conceded. “But I believe there are other naturally occurring patterns that would prove far more suited to that task.” He leaned forward then, whispering into Erasmus's ear. The pudgy Grand Runic's eyes lit up almost instantly.
“Brilliant!” he exclaimed, clapping his hand on his knee. “Kalibar, you're a genius!”
“No, I'm not,” Kalibar countered. “Kyle is.” He shook his head slowly. “He had it all figured out...on his first day as a Runic. And it took us this long to follow his train of thought.”
“For you to follow his train of thought,” Erasmus grumbled. “I didn't even take his idea seriously.”
“Yes, well,” Kalibar stated. “We need to get working on a prototype of Kyle's invention so that we can create the weapon I was thinking of.”
“That, my friend,” Erasmus replied with a wink, “...is where I come in!”
Chapter 14
Kyle gazed up at the massive, hulking form of the Behemoth, staring at that singular green eye, a jet-black monstrosity plucked from his very nightmares and placed before him. It was larger than he remembered, and the details were different...the arms were more streamlined, the angles sharper...but the overall look was the same.
The Behemoth's lone eye stared down at Kyle and Darius, its narrow white spotlight held motionless over them. The Dead Man stood beside them, his cold black eyes having never left Kyle's, his expression unreadable. His cloak had resumed its sinuous rippling, despite the still air inside the massive cavern.
“I have a proposition for you both,” the Dead Man stated, his sunken black eyes lit with glowing semicircles from the Behemoth's light. “If either of you tell me the nature and location of the one Xanos is looking for, you both will be freed immediately. You will not be killed, or harmed in any way. In fact, you will be returned to Stridon, if you choose.”
Kyle glanced back at Darius, but the bodyguard wasn't even paying attention; he was staring up at the Behemoth, his blue eyes scanning the monstrous creation. Kyle turned back to the Dead Man, unnerved at the ghoulish Weaver's unblinking stare.
“However,” the Dead Man continued calmly, his smooth, deep voice sending a chill down Kyle's spine, “...if no one chooses to come forward, then Xanos will kill you both. And then He will come for Kalibar, and for your friends. And if they don't talk, He will come for the Empire itself.”
“That's not fair!” Kyle protested, finding his voice at last.
“Agreed,” the Dead Man replied. “But it is my offer, Kyle. Xanos demands it.”
Kyle stared back up at the Behemoth, squinting in the face of that intense spotlight, recalling the vision of Ancient Stridon burning under its deadly gaze. There would be no victory against such an enemy, he knew. The Dead Man was powerful, it was true. But the Behemoth had leveled entire cities, destroying a civilization with magical defenses far advanced of their own. They would be helpless before it.
He turned to Darius, finding the bodyguard staring back at him silently. Still handcuffed, without his trademark golden armor, the man looked uncharacteristically vulnerable. Kyle thought back to all of the times that Darius had risked his life to save him, thought of what it would feel like to have Darius die here...and knew he could never live with that on his conscience.
He turned back to the Dead Man.
“I'm the one you want,” Kyle declared, squaring his shoulders. His heart pounded in his chest, a cold, slick sweat dripping from his armpits down to his flanks. But he forced himself to stand tall. He glanced at Darius, who continued to stare at him silently. Then he turned back to the Dead Man, who merely stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment.
“Are you?” he murmured. He continued to stare at Kyle, his dead eyes unblinking. Kyle wilted under his gaze, and wondered, not for the first time, if the ghoulish Weaver could read his thoughts. “Then show me,” he stated.
“Show you what?”
“Prove it,” the Dead Man answered. Kyle stood there, staring back at the Dead Man, his mouth going dry. Then he lowered his gaze to the floor.
“I'm not from around here,” he replied at last, trying not to shiver in the cold air. He didn't want the Dead Man – or Darius – to think he was afraid...even though he most definitely was.
“And where are you from, Kyle?” The Dead Man asked, his voice almost gentle again. Kyle glanced at Darius, who shook his head almost imperceptibly. But there was no other way.
“Another planet,” Kyle stated. He caught Darius rolling his eyes, and blushed. The Dead Man, however, did not appear amused.
“Another planet,” he stated flatly. “Is that so.”
“It is,” Kyle insisted, trying his best to sound convincing. “We have technology there that you can only dream of,” he added, more defiantly now. “Bombs that can destroy entire cities...medicines that can cure almost any disease!”
“I see,” the Dead Man replied. “It's a shame you couldn't have been more honest with me...and more loyal.”
Kyle felt the color leave his cheeks, his guts twisting in his belly. He'd heard that tone of voice once...right before the Dead Man had ripped Kalibar's eyes out. He took an involuntary step backward.
“But it's true!” he protested, feeling every muscle in his body tense up. “I'm not lying!” The Dead Man ignored him, turned to face Darius.
“Do you have anything else to say?” the Dead Man asked. Darius said nothing, his blue eyes locked on the Dead Man's. They stared at each other for a long moment, until the Dead Man turned away with a sigh. “Very well then,” the ghoulish Weaver stated, turning to the green crystals jutting out from the platform at his side. “I suppose it's only fair that I give you a head start.”
He placed his hand back on the green crystals, and they flashed brightly for a moment, then went dark. A massive circular portion of the ceiling far above their heads began to open up, dilating like an iris until it had opened up to a diameter of over a hundred feet. Kyle stared upward into that massive circular opening, seeing only darkness beyond.
Kyle felt his stomach lurch suddenly, felt himself rising upward through the air, pulled by an invisible force. He cried out as his feet lifted off of the metallic platform; the Dead Man and Darius rose upward with him. Kyle looked downward, seeing the platform they'd been standing on shrinking as they flew slowly upward. He felt his guts squirm; despite his recent experience with his gravity boots, the height – they were well over a hundred feet high and still climbing – was nerve-wracking. He imagined himself being dropped, falling helplessly to his death. If the Dead Man wanted to kill Kyle and Darius now, it would be as simple as that.
Instead, a strong breeze whipped through the massive chamber, chilling Kyle to the bone. The blackness beyond the iris-shaped opening in the ceiling began to swirl, like a whirlpool of water in an upside-down pool. As they drew closer, he realized that the blackness was wa
ter, churning like the surface of the ocean during a storm. The whirlpool intensified, creating a watery funnel above their heads. The funnel deepened and widened as the whirlpool grew ever stronger, forming a long, dark tunnel. Suddenly, a blinding ray of light shot downward from the end of the tunnel, far above their heads. Kyle squinted against the brightness, watching as the tunnel widened, until it was well over a hundred feet in diameter. Its walls were made purely of churning, flowing water that spiraled madly, roaring with the fury of a dozen waterfalls.
Kyle stared down the length of that awesome channel, gasping as he realized what lay beyond...white, puffy clouds against an impossibly blue sky!
The watery tunnel stopped expanding, sunlight glittering off of the foaming water. The Dead Man continued to rise, carrying Darius and Kyle with him. They ascended through the tunnel, a cold wind tearing at their clothes. Kyle shivered involuntarily, staring into the dark waters as they rose, spotting dark shapes moving from deep within, darting rapidly away from the maelstrom. The roar of water was deafening, forcing Kyle to cover his ears with his hands. Still upward they went, until they reached the end of the tunnel at last, the cold wind dying away as they rose above the water. Kyle stared downward, seeing a large lake below. The whirling tunnel below slowed, shrinking rapidly, water pouring violently inward to fill the void the tunnel had created. The water at the lake's surface churned wildly, water spraying high into the air, until the tunnel had closed at last. Only the agitated surface of the lake remained.
Their ascent stopped suddenly, a few dozen feet above the surface of the lake. Kyle looked about, staring at the mountainous terrain beyond the lake, feeling the sun's hot rays on his scalp. The chill he'd felt in the chamber below had already begun to dissipate, and despite everything, he felt renewed under its glow. He scanned the rocky mountainside beyond the lake, spotting a shadowy entrance of a cave there. It was instantaneously familiar; it was the same cave they'd escaped from a few weeks ago, the one the Dead Man had ambushed them at...and had been supposedly killed near. Now Kyle knew how the Dead Man had gotten to them so quickly back then; he'd used the water-tunnel to get to the surface, intercepting them as they'd escaped.
The Dead noted the direction of Kyle's gaze, and nodded approvingly.
“Very observant, Kyle,” he murmured. They began moving forward then, toward the shore in the distance, summoned by the Dead Man's power. “You have so much potential,” he added wistfully.
They reached the shore in a matter of minutes, the Dead Man dropping them gently onto the grass beyond the sandy shoreline. Kyle glanced at Darius, who was staring back at him. The bodyguard's mouth was set in a grim line.
“You have one last chance,” the Dead Man stated solemnly. “If you reveal the identity of whoever is killing the Chosen, the others will be spared.”
Kyle glanced at Darius, then looked down at his feet. He grit his teeth, knowing that he could end this with one word, could save Darius and perhaps even himself, if he told the Dead Man who'd really been responsible for saving the Council. Kyle had promised not to tell, but that promise seemed insignificant compared to what was at stake. He knew, however, that there was a good chance that the Dead Man would kill them both even if Kyle did tell the truth.
But at least there was a chance he wouldn't.
“Very well,” the Dead Man stated with a sigh. “The Behemoth will take some time to arrive,” he added, turning his head to gaze at the lake behind them. “I suggest you start running now.”
“Wait,” Kyle protested, stepping forward. But the Dead Man ignored him, lifting up into the air gracefully, then flying across the rippling waters of the lake, his black cloak flowing sinuously behind him. The surface of the lake began to churn violently, a depression forming in the center. The depression grew wider and deeper as Kyle watched, and he felt his heart leap into his throat.
“No, wait!” he shouted, bolting forward. “Wait, I'll tell...” He felt a strong hand grip his forearm, stopping him in his tracks and spinning him about. He found Darius standing before him.
“Run,” the bodyguard commanded, pulling Kyle forward toward the tree line. Kyle resisted, turning to stare at the Dead Man, still hovering above the center of the lake. A massive whirlpool was already forming below the dark Weaver.
“Now!” Darius shouted, shoving Kyle forward.
They broke into an all-out run, bolting madly for the forest beyond. Kyle pumped his legs as hard as he could, the grass and dirt crunching under his boots. Darius ran alongside Kyle, easily keeping pace despite the fact that he was barefoot.
Boots, Kyle thought, glancing down at his feet. Black leather boots covered his feet, with strips of silver metal going down the sides. A few blue gems sparkled on the surface of the leather.
“Darius!” Kyle called out, skidding to a stop. Darius frowned, stopping beside him. Kyle pointed down at his own feet. “I have gravity boots! Grab onto me!”
Darius glanced down at Kyle's feet, then wrapped an arm around Kyle's waist from behind. Kyle concentrated, sending a stream of magic to the blue gem on the top of the boot. Then he sent a burst of magic to his left boot. Almost immediately, he rose up into the air, carrying Darius with him. Just as Kyle had hoped, the wide cylindrical gravitational field surrounding him – the one preventing him from tipping over – kept Darius from falling away as well. They both soared into the air, flying up above the treetops. Kyle sent a stream of magic to the left toe crystal, and he bolted forward, feeling his guts twist as they accelerated rapidly. Within seconds, they were zooming over the treetops, far faster than he had ever gone with Master Banar. Still, he struggled to send even more magic to his boots. Depleted after his stay in the Void, he barely had any magic left to work with. If it hadn't been for the Void crystals, he would have been able to fly much faster.
Kyle glanced back over his shoulder, at the roiling surface of the lake far in the distance. The tunnel was completely formed now, a greenish glow coming from deep within. As Kyle watched, a dark shape began to rise from the depths of the lake...a black, metallic dome. It was, he realized, the massive head of the Behemoth rising from the watery tunnel. Its green eye cleared the surface of the lake, followed by its black, armored body. The Behemoth continued to ascend, until at last its massive legs had cleared the surface of the waters. Still upward it rose, flying higher into the sky.
“It's flying!” Kyle shouted in horror. “Darius!”
“So are you,” Darius retorted. “Go faster!”
Kyle struggled to dredge up more magic into his mind's eye, feeling sweat bead on his forehead with the effort. He'd already nearly depleted what little magic he had left; the sheer force of will it took to conjure up more was simply too great. He shook his head, gritting his teeth.
“I can't!” he cried. He glanced backward, spotting the Behemoth. Its upper body leaned forward, and it began to move, slowly accelerating away from the lake – and toward them. Kyle was still traveling much faster than the monstrosity, but it was gaining speed remarkably quickly. Darius tightened his grip about Kyle's waist.
“There!” Darius shouted, pointing at something in the distance ahead of them. Kyle squinted, following Darius's finger; the bodyguard was pointing to a break in the forest perhaps two miles away, where a huge spiral of shattered rock had been carved into the earth. It looked like pictures of mining excavations Kyle had seen back on Earth. Kyle squinted, noticing a truck-sized hole carved into the side of one rocky wall.
“What about it?” Kyle asked.
“The mine shaft,” Darius shouted back. “It's too small for that thing to fit in!”
Kyle nodded, swerving toward the excavation site. It had to be one of the many mines near Crescent Lake that had been abandoned long ago. Even after all that time, the forest had barely begun to regrow around the site. Kyle glanced back again at the Behemoth; it was still far away, but it was moving quickly now...almost as quickly as Kyle was.
And that, he realized, was far slower than he'd been goin
g a minute earlier. The magic stream he'd been powering his boots with had nearly petered out; he'd spent so much energy blasting ahead as fast as possible that he'd used up nearly all of his reserves. Now he didn't have much of anything left...and not only were they beginning to slow down, they were also losing altitude at an alarming rate.
“What are you doing?” Darius shouted in Kyle's ear. “Go faster!”
“I'm trying!” Kyle protested.
“Try harder!”
Kyle pushed himself as hard as he could, the veins on his forehead bulging with the strain. He grabbed at wisps of magic desperately, shoving them toward his boots. But it was hopeless; the stream was not even powerful enough to keep them afloat now. They dropped down toward the treetops, sinking until leaves and branches were slapping at their feet. Kyle struggled valiantly, but still they dropped. A tree branch slammed into Kyle's shin, threatening to flip him head-over-heels. He cried out, seeing another branch coming for him, pushing a wisp of magic toward his boots to dodge it. It clipped his thigh anyway, sending him into a mad spin through the air. A kaleidoscope of green, brown, and blue flashed before his eyes, and he felt Darius's arm slip from his waist. Kyle screamed as he fell, closing his eyes and throwing his arms in front of his face. Something slammed into his chest, and the air exploded from his lungs. Stars floated before his eyes, and his body went numb. Time slowed as he rolled onto his back, realizing that he'd stopped falling – that he was on the ground.
Kyle tried to take a breath in, but his body refused to obey his commands. He felt his head swim sickeningly, and stifled the urge to vomit, instead rolling slowly back onto his belly. He tried to breathe again, this time managing to suck some air into his burning lungs. He exhaled, then took another breath, the stars in his vision fading slowly. He got to his hands and knees slowly, feeling a sharp pain in his left shoulder as he did so. He rose to his feet, staggering to his left and slamming his already injured shoulder against a tree trunk. He howled in agony, clutching his shoulder and nearly falling back to his knees. Tears streamed down his cheeks, dripping onto the bed of dead leaves and dirt below.