FROM THE DEPTHS: GOLD

by Adam Heine

  Her footsteps paused at the doorway. “I’m going to watch,” she said as she left them to die.

  Chapter 9

  Luthiya’s fingers tingled. She tried to wiggle them.

  “I’m sorry, Thiya,” Khapah said. “You were right.”

  Luthiya huffed. “How could you have known she’d betray us like this? I didn’t.” Two of her fingers moved. Was the esotery wearing off? When Luthiya had done this to salamanders they hadn’t moved for hours unless she’d played the melody that released them.

  “No, but I relied on her for everything. I wouldn’t let go of revenge.”

  “No one would, Khapah. I’m the strange one.”

  Khapah gazed at the stone floor. “Would that we were all as strange, then.”

  Luthiya turned her wrist. It was wearing off.

  “How are you doing that? I can’t feel anything beyond my face.”

  She kept moving, stretching more and more until she regained control of her arms. “The flute only works if you hear it. I didn’t think I covered my ears in time, but I guess—”

  “Can you undo it?”

  She wasn’t sure. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t feel anything beyond her arms. She shook her head.

  Khapah’s face fell.

  She’d been so close. For a moment, she thought she had actually outsmarted Ama, if only a little. But she needed more than her arms to escape the wights, or to help save the others.

  “Wait, the flute!” Ama had left it on the bench.

  Luthiya pressed her arms into the stone floor, dragging her dead weight forward with every drop of strength she had. Finally, she reached the bench where Ama had set it down. Luthiya’s arms were on fire, but she managed to wriggle the flute closer with her fingers. She brought it to her lips. After a couple of mistakes, she piped the augmented phrase that would release her. She gasped in pain as the feeling returned to her body, including her legs, which she’d scraped across the rocks to get to the bench. Thank the gods around she’d only skinned them.

  “Little help?”

  “Right, sorry.” For some reason, the flute only worked on one target at a time, no matter who heard it. The flutist had to choose the target in her mind. She played the same phrase toward Khapah. He winced, then stretched his limbs and pushed himself up.

  “We have to go,” Khapah said.

  She swallowed, but nodded. They had to get to the others before the wights did. If it’s not too late already.

  Khapah took her hand. She stuffed the flute in a pocket and they ran off into the tunnels. They took the quickest path. When they reached the Glass Hall, she froze. She tried—failed—to look away from Jio’s body. His sunken eye sockets bored a hole into her chest. She still hadn’t mourned him. She couldn’t, even now—couldn’t admit he was gone.

  Khapah tugged her hand gently. “We have to keep moving.”

  She nodded, a single tear dripping from her cheek. He pulled her around the corner and up the steps. They were close to the Marrow Chamber now. The rest of the Shue were already there.

  She knew because of the screams.

  They tore at her, ripped jagged strips from her heart. Hearing the cries of her people should’ve spurred her on, made her want to run faster, but she was paralyzed. The razing of Shuenha played out in her mind all over again. Khapah tried to pull, but her hand slipped out of his.

  “We have to hurry!” he said.

  “I…” She tried to shake off her feelings. “I know, but I—”

  “Listen, makoeh.” He bent over, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “I know you’re scared. I am too, but—”

  Luthiya screamed. Four fire wights came down the stairs, one of them walking rather than hovering, all of them brighter than they should’ve been.

  Khapah stepped in between her and the wights. All four looked directly at him. “Run, Thiya. Warn the others.”

  “No.” It came out as barely more than a whisper. This is what happened to Jio. “No, you can’t.”

  “Go!”

  Luthiya stood frozen as the wights stalked toward Khapah. This couldn’t happen. Not again. Not to Khapah. The Shue needed him. More than that…

  She rushed forward and shoved Khapah to the ground. The wights turned to face her, as she hoped they would. “You go,” she told Khapah. “Get them out of here.”

  Before he could argue, she ran. Again, she guessed right; the wights chased her immediately, ignoring Khapah as though they couldn’t even see him.

  She took turns at random, looking for a path to the volcanic fields above. The tunnels behind her glowed brighter with each step she took. The footsteps became louder, beating a steady, deadly rhythm. She wouldn’t make it to the fields, wouldn’t know what to do there if she did.

  It’s all right. If only one of us lives, it should be Khapah.

  More screaming came from a branching tunnel ahead and to the left. The Marrow Chamber. Somehow she had come back around to another entrance.

  Then she had an idea. If four followed her, why not more?

  She glanced behind her. The wights were a good distance back. She’d thought they were closer, but no, they were just brighter than she’d thought. I have time. With renewed strength, she dashed down the branch and up a flight of stairs.

  The screams grew louder, but she fought off her terror. If she let it get to her, they would all die. The stairs spiraled around. Small window slits opened on her left and she saw a large hall outside and below her. The spring! She was already in the bone tower somehow, above the Marrow Chamber.

  Below her, scores of Shue huddled together. The wights had cut off their escape in every direction. Many lay on the floor, as unrecognizable as Jio. Like the animal I saw in the chantry. Luthiya shivered, wondering if it had ever been an animal.

  The footsteps behind her grew louder. Her chest burned, and her side ached. She couldn’t run much longer. Even if she could get the wights to chase her, how far could she get?

  She ran through a narrow room, filled with halberds, staves, and a smattering of numenera weapons, including the synthsteel rod. It gave her an idea. She grabbed the rod on the run. A passage took her from the weapons cache down into the main chamber where glowing wights blocked her way. They had their backs to her, thankfully, and she could see over them.

  The footsteps drummed behind her. The screams of her people clawed at her. But for a few heartbeats, she shut it all out. Raising the synthsteel rod, she twisted the stubbed end like Ama had told her. The tapered end glowed a cool orange. She brought it up to her eye, sighting down the length of the rod like a crossbow, aiming it at the center of the spring. The tapered end extended and the orange glow left the rod and shone in the air between her and the spring. She extended the rod even further, until the glow hit the water and disappeared beneath the ground.

  She let go.

  The rod snapped back together. A sound like muffled thunder roared from under the spring. The tower shook. Luthiya fell. The stone floor beneath the pool of water cracked and crumbled. It fell in on itself, then a titanic blast of water shot upward, blasting the ceiling and showering the entire chamber.

  The Shue shrieked and covered their heads, but a little scalding water was better than being sucked dry, Luthiya figured.

  And she was right. As soon as the water came pouring into the room, most of the wights ignored the Shue and ran straight toward the now–massive spring. Even the wights who had been chasing her flowed past down the stairs, ignoring her in their effort to reach the water. The room sparkled as dozens of fire wights drank it in, glowing more and more brightly.

  The Shue took their chance. They poured out of the entrance and the archway to the surface of the volcanic fields. Khapah stayed in the doorway, waving each one through, making sure none were left behind.

  Luthiya followed. The Marrow Chamber was nearly full of boiling water, but there was still enough space for her around the rim. She bounded down the steps. A group of fire wights drank a few meters away
from the bottom of the stairs, but they weren’t looking at her.

  Not until she stepped on the bone floor.

  She froze, her hands and heart trembling in terror. Every fire wight in the room had stopped drinking and turned to watch her.

  She was trapped.

  Chapter 10

  “Come on!” Khapah waved to Luthiya from the doorway.

  He was so close, but three score of the creatures stood between them. She’d never make it. Even if she did, it would only bring the wights chasing after the rest of the Shue. They’d never get out of the fields of Ossiphagan.

  Luthiya set her chin, trying to ignore Khapah’s expression as he realized what she was thinking. Before she could doubt herself, she turned on her heels and ran back up the steps. She didn’t need to tell Khapah to go without her. It would only waste time. Just don’t be stupid enough to follow me.

  The fire wights splashed through the water after her, drowning out Khapah’s shouting. Luthiya sprinted up the stairs. She was already so tired; every breath seared her lungs. In the weapons cache, she hunted desperately for anything other than a halberd or a spear. There was nothing. The numenera weapons were all strangements to her.

  The wights marched up the stairs, their now–solid feet hammering against the petrified bone floor. They were so bright now. Luthiya couldn’t look behind her without squinting.

  She took the same route she’d entered through, toward the underground. If she could keep up her pace, she might make it to the chantry. Ama would have something there she could use. But when she reached the steps going down, she cried out. A bright light shone from below, and it was growing brighter. The wights were there, too.

  Trembling, she took the only route left to her: up. She ran past doors on her right, chambers carved into the middle of the bone. Could she hide there? The wights would probably sense her through the door, and none of these doors could be barricaded. The battlement was her only chance. She took the steps two at a time, straining her leg muscles, begging them to pump faster. The tunnel grew brighter, though, no matter how fast she moved.

  She fell against the battlement door, shoved it open, and stumbled outside. Then she scrambled back and heaved the door closed. It slammed into the door frame like thunder. A towering chunk of rib bone leaned against the wall. She jumped, grabbed the top of it, and tugged it down in front of the door. Then she put her back against it and dug her feet into the rough floor.

  The first wight struck the door like an earthquake. Luthiya shrieked and pushed herself back up, giving herself as much leverage as she could. They hammered again and again. Her teeth cracked against each other. The massive bone fragment budged half a centimeter with each strike. I can’t do this, she thought. Please, Khapah, get everyone out before it’s too late.

  “The water wasn’t enough for them, was it?”

  Luthiya jumped; the voice seemed to come from the sky itself. She looked all around until she saw Ama standing on the other side of the parapet.

  Luthiya gasped. “How did you get here?”

  “All the water in the world wouldn’t be enough for them.” Ama held one hand out, palm up, with the urlimnion floating above it. The small orb glowed as brightly as the wights did now, almost frantic in its back–and–forth rotations. “Even your kin aren’t enough.” Ama crossed her other arm over her chest, looking down to the bottom of the tower. “They want you.”

  “Why?!” It had bothered Luthiya since she’d first seen the wights. The monsters would occasionally notice the water or Khapah or Jio, but they always, always returned to watch her.

  Ama rose up into the air. She was standing on the shield she’d taken from the chantry, some kind of levitation device. “I don’t know.” She glowered. “Water is for them like it is for our bodies: necessary, but insufficient for real strength. They crave meat. Life. But why yours specifically? I cannot imagine.”

  The wights continued battering at the door. The bone fragment scraped forward two more centimeters. Luthiya’s feet scrabbled over the petrified floor as she tried, desperately, to push it back.

  “Your people are fleeing. West, toward the Charred Pass.”

  A surge of hope swelled in Luthiya’s chest. It had worked. The wights wouldn’t leave Ossiphagan. The Shue were free.

  Ama’s lip curled up in a quiet snarl.

  She doesn’t want us to survive. Luthiya shoved the fragment back against the door. Her legs grew weaker with each strike. It wouldn’t be long before the wights broke through. “Why do you hate us?” she asked.

  “Ha! I don’t hate you. What a waste of effort that would be, like hating salamanders or a flea.”

  “Then let them go! The wights will have me. That’s what they want. You said it yourself.”

  “I worry it won’t be enough.” Ama sighed deeply. “I suppose I could lead some other group here, now that I know of the wights.” She touched her forehead and muttered to herself, “But would that count as betrayal? Greater good, perhaps? Gods, this tide is abstruse.”

  Luthiya growled. “What’s not enough? What could be more important than saving people’s lives?”

  “This,” she said, lifting the urlimnion as though it were obvious. Then she laughed. “Of course you can’t understand. Like my body, the urlimnion is tuned to acts of charity and compassion. Helping your people wasn’t enough—I suspect because the Shue are beyond help. But the moment I gave that boy to the wights, the urlimnion awoke.”

  “You gave him?” A sickening pit grew in Luthiya’s stomach.

  Ama murmured to herself again, “That betrayal didn’t count. Perhaps I could—”

  “You gave Jio?” Luthiya shouted, rage bubbling up from the pit of her stomach.

  Ama stopped, looking at Luthiya in surprise that shifted quickly into something like pity.

  The tears forced their way out, then. Luthiya’s breaths became heavy, uncontrollable. The bone fragment slipped ten centimeters at once, a yellow glow spilling out of the doorway. And Luthiya realized something else: Jio was an accident. She meant to give them me.

  “I think I will spare you,” Ama said. “Let’s see what effect that has.”

  “No.” Luthiya shook her head. “Sparing” would only mean death for the others. “Let them take me. Leave the Shue alone.”

  “Actually, I must spare you, otherwise this life will have been wasted.” She casually traced a pattern in the air with her free hand, a faint light trailing from her fingers. When she finished, the pounding behind Luthiya stopped; the glow from the door was gone. “Unless consuming all the Shue isn’t enough, of course. Then I’ll have to let them take you as well, just to be sure.” She gave Luthiya a wan smile, then turned on her floating shield and began descending toward the earth.

  “No.” Luthiya scraped her nails against the bone behind her, while Ama’s head disappeared behind the parapet. “NO!”

  She rushed to the edge, whipping Ama’s flute from her pocket. As soon as the nano was in sight, Luthiya played the five–note minor tune. As the first note sang through the air, Ama turned and gasped. She brought her free hand up as though to cast some esotery, but too late. The melody was finished. Ama froze in mid–air, one hand holding the urlimnion, the other upraised as though in greeting.

  Luthiya’s victory was short–lived. Beneath her, the towering bones of Ossiphagan spread out in two twisting rows. The Shue ran between them, hurrying west to the Charred Pass, but scores of wights followed. A dazzling mass poured from the bottom of her tower and ran after the Shue, but whatever esotery Ama had cast had brought more of them. Dozens, hundreds, floated up out of holes in the ground and glided down from the other bone towers.

  The Shue were surrounded.

  Luthiya gripped the edge of the parapet, hardened bone cutting into her fingers. “Stop them!”

  Ama grinned. “Release me.”

  Of course. Ama had needed her hand to cast that esotery; she probably couldn’t control the wights without it. Or she was lying. Either way
, Luthiya didn’t reach for the flute. Telling her to stop the wights was foolish enough.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Ama said. “There’s very little even I could do. I don’t control them, you know. I never could.” Ama smiled in a way that twisted Luthiya’s insides. “But I can tell them where the meat is.”

  Luthiya slapped the tears from her cheeks. The Shue were an experiment to Ama. Even the wights didn’t matter to her, no matter what she said. She was using them all just to activate that damn—

  Something Ama had said suddenly slipped into place in Luthiya’s brain. “You don’t control them.”

  Ama maintained her smirk.

  She didn’t know Luthiya had figured out a way to stop the wights.

  Before Luthiya could think herself out of it, she hopped onto the parapet, then launched herself at Ama. She barely had time to register the look of shock on the nano’s face before they collided. Luthiya wrapped her arms around Ama. The shield veered and plummeted, but magically stayed underneath them. Luthiya slipped, digging her fingers into the nano’s arms to stay on. They fell ten meters before the device compensated for the additional weight and Luthiya was able to get her feet securely on the shield.

  “What are you doing, you stupid girl?”

  “You can’t control them,” Luthiya said, fighting to keep her voice from shaking. “Maybe I can.”

  She leaned to one side experimentally, her hands clamped on Ama’s waist. The shield banked and followed her movement, shifting them through the air a couple meters. Thank the gods about. I can do this. She leaned forward, pushing them through the air toward the fleeing Shue.

  “This is pointless.” Ama laughed. “Idiotic. No wonder your people were wiped out so easily.”

  Luthiya glowered, but she didn’t let Ama draw her in. Maybe Ama was right, but it was just as likely she was afraid of what Luthiya was about to do.

  Luthiya certainly was.

  “The wights don’t want you anymore. They have access to hundreds more.”