Obsidian

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Obsidian Page 11

by Alan Baxter


  The Autarch stood, walked slowly back and forth across the cell. ‘Are you part of this rumoured resistance? The rebellion the Blessed are so scared of?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Of course, you’d say that whether you were or not.’ He waved a hand. ‘But no matter, it doesn’t make sense. You came from outside, did you not?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Where from, exactly?’

  ‘The Isle of Lewis, in the Outer Hebrides. And please, where are we now?’

  ‘You are in Obsidian. You are somewhere you should not have been able to reach. Explain to me exactly how you got here.’

  Haydon thought quickly, wondered how much to tell. ‘Are you the religious authority here?’ he asked. ‘Is there a government?’

  The Autarch spun and slapped Haydon so hard and fast the professor was on the floor, cheek singing with pain, before he had seen the large man move. ‘You do not presume to question me!’ the Autarch said in a low voice. ‘I am the ultimate authority in Obsidian and whether you live or die depends on my whim. That’s all you need to know. Answer the question.’

  Part of Nicholas Haydon’s mind screamed at him to come clean, tell this Autarch everything, negotiate a way out. But another part, a slightly separated voice, urged caution and opacity. Play for time, learn more. Find the nexus. He fought an internal struggle, unsure what to say. ‘We found an ancient record of magic,’ he said at last. ‘It described rituals to lead us to the nexus and we followed it.’

  ‘Where is this record?’

  ‘Memorised. We didn’t bring it with us.’

  The Autarch growled in annoyance. ‘Explain to me the part where you actually arrived here. How did you get from Lewis to Obsidian?’

  ‘We performed the ritual at the Callanish Stones and we waited. It took a long time, we held the magic in place. Then there was a rush of power, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before and the portal burst open and pulled us through. We arrived here. Please, are we near the nexus?’

  The Autarch turned away, addressed the man still at the cell door. ‘Gunnar, there are others. At least one, probably more.’

  ‘You’re sure, Autarch?’ Gunnar asked, eyes wide. ‘How is any of this possible?’

  ‘I don’t know, but these fools certainly don’t have the power to have opened anything on their own. They’re pawns in someone else’s game.’

  ‘A Fey game?’

  ‘Quite possibly. The others must be found. Question everyone. Strip skin from muscles and flesh from bone until you get answers and find them and bring them to me.’

  Gunnar nodded once. ‘Yes, sir.’ He ducked away from the door and his footsteps rang rapidly away down the corridor.

  Darius cried out, something high-pitched and fast in Polish, and bolted for the door. The Autarch shot out one hand, grabbed the small man’s throat. Darius’s legs swung forward, still running, as the Autarch’s face twisted and shifted into something hideous, a parody of humanity, mouth too wide, teeth bristling forth. He grabbed Darius’s hair in one hand, his shoulder in the other and ripped the small man’s throat out in one snarling bite. Blood sprayed the walls and ceiling, flooded the Autarch’s face and chest. Nicholas and Salay shrank back, crying out, as a fine, warm mist spattered them.

  Darius’s corpse hung limp and dripping from the Autarch’s strong hand as his face smoothly shifted back to the countenance he had worn before, now running red. He gestured, making the body twitch and dance. ‘This is what you’ve been led to,’ he said. ‘Don’t think your lives are any more important to me.’

  He turned and strode from the cell, carrying the corpse effortlessly with him. He kicked the heavy wooden door shut and the metal lock clunked into place. Nicholas and Salay sat stunned and silent, shivering, until Nicholas turned to one corner and vomited noisily.

  10

  The hidden cave was cool and dim, candles and lamps flickered gently. Alex thought hard about their next move. Duncan’s enthusiasm was grating, Lily’s suspicion equally distracting. ‘Okay,’ Alex said at last. ‘We’re all distinctly lacking in information here. You say you’re the resistance. To what?’

  ‘The Autarch and his hierarchy,’ Duncan said, distaste evident.

  ‘Can you explain that?’

  Duncan opened his mouth to speak, but Lily cut him off with a gesture. ‘The resistance is simply a body of people,’ she explained, ‘who think the Autarch is lying to us.’

  ‘Can you assume we know nothing about anything here?’ Alex asked. ‘Imagine we’ve just popped into being. I need to understand where we are, how it works.’

  ‘Ye see!’ Duncan was excited all over again. ‘It is true, we’ve been right all along.’

  Lily nodded, quieted him with another gesture. ‘Obsidian is ruled by the Original Seven, made up of the Autarch and the Council Of Six. Below them the Obsidian Priests. They rule us harshly. Some of us rise to the rank of Blessed, but all they’re really doing is selling out their fellow lowen for extra goods and rations. It’s hard to know sometimes, who might be Blessed, but they usually reveal themselves before long.’

  ‘Lowen?’ Silhouette asked.

  ‘Anyone of us not a Blessed.’

  ‘These Blessed effectively police you for the Original Seven and the Priesthood?’ Claude asked.

  ‘Police?’

  ‘Enforce law.’

  ‘Enforce catechism? No exactly. The Autarch Guard, a branch of the Priesthood, police us.’ The word was clearly strange on her tongue. ‘But the Priests and the Seven are golden people. Blessed are lowen who inform for the Guard. We have opportunities through the blood games and things like that, but mostly we trade with each other, look after each other, take our handouts from the Autarch. The Blessed among us watch out for dissent, report it and get rewarded.’ Lily’s face gave a plain indication of how little regard she had for the system. ‘But we’re always hungry, always struggling. The Seven and Priests insist we’ll be rewarded on Ascension, but they’re never hungry, never struggling.’

  ‘You mentioned this Ascension before,’ Alex said.

  ‘The eternal reward. We suffer in life and once we pass, we Ascend and live in a world of light and colour and plenty. They show us images of this place, the Priests. They say they can commune with the gods and they tell us how to act in order to ensure our place, but it’s all lies.’

  ‘What kind of images?’

  ‘Large images, drawings, paintings, but so real-looking it’s hard to imagine they’re not a product of the gods, as the Priests promise. And truly wonderful, unlike anything else. But we know the Priests and the Seven use magic. We, the resistance, think they’re using it to keep the real truths from us.’

  ‘And what might those real truths be?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Ye!’ Duncan said. ‘Ye can tell us, right?’

  Claude made a derisive noise. ‘Where the fuck have you led us, Caine, you fucking idiot?’

  Alex ignored him as his mind reeled. How could a society like this exist, completely oblivious to anything else? And what damage might he do by telling them the truth? He needed to find a way out before he gave them false hope. ‘You said blood games,’ he asked, instead of answering Duncan. ‘What’s that?’

  Lily sneered again. ‘Barbaric, is what it is. The Seven and the Priests love the games. Lowen are given the opportunity to fight in arenas. We call them the pits. It’s entertainment for everyone and the winners get extra food and goods.’

  ‘And the losers?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Are dead. The Priests take them away.’

  ‘And you are in charge of this resistance against the hierarchy?’

  Lily shrugged. ‘There are many groups, many kinds of resistance, but yes, I lead the biggest. I think. My grandfather is my inspiration.’

  The cave sank into silence. Duncan’s fervour was no less apparent, but Alex’s thoughts were troubled. Obsidian seemed tightly controlled by an almost Roman rule of law. Colosseum-style games, brutal oppression. He wou
ld hate to be trapped here, which only made him more determined to find a way out. But what about the populace? The city, from what he’d seen so far, appeared to be massive. Thousands of people must be trapped within the black glass confines, under the shimmering, magic-heavy blue dome.

  ‘When we first saw you,’ Jarrod said, ‘you told us, “You’re golden like them.” What did that mean?’

  Duncan nodded, eyes animated once more. ‘Yes, yes. Golden like the Seven, and the Priests, except for ye. Ye’re dark.’

  ‘You’ve never seen anyone with skin like mine before?’

  ‘Oh, aye. And even darker. But only among the Priesthood and Guard are there people that have your … glow, even in dark skin. Never in a lowen. We call them golden people, like the golden icons on the churches. No the colour itself, but the glow, the …’ He shrugged, lost for words.

  ‘The lustre,’ Alex said. ‘Of health.’

  ‘You’re all pale, like you?’ Jarrod said, more musing than question.

  Duncan nodded. ‘People often suffer the grey sickness, where they get paler, greyer and weaker, until they die. The Priests tell us that’s a form of Ascension. But it’s no, is it?’

  ‘Never seen the sun,’ Silhouette said quietly.

  ‘Which implies,’ Claude said, ‘that these rulers have. Which implies …’

  ‘There’s a way out,’ Alex finished, flicking a sneer at him.

  Duncan grinned, looked from one to the next. ‘Sun? What’s that? A way out where?’

  Alex still worried about how much information he should share. Duncan’s enthusiasm was tempered by Lily’s clear suspicion. He changed the subject. ‘So when you said we were golden like them, you meant the Priests and Seven, not others like us?’

  ‘Are there others like ye? Ye’re the first I’ve seen,’ Duncan said.

  ‘Yes. Three men came before us. Our real reason here is to find them.’

  ‘They’re dead then,’ Lily said dispassionately.

  ‘Dead?’

  ‘If they walked these streets as ye did and weren’t spotted and hidden as ye were, then the Blessed would have certainly reported them. If they’re not hidden, the Priesthood will have them. If that’s the case, the Autarch will be told and they’re as good as dead.’

  ‘Do you believe we’re from somewhere else?’ Alex asked her.

  ‘I still think ye may be Priests, here to test us. Expose us. But ye’re beginning to convince me otherwise.’

  ‘We must find the men who came before us,’ Alex said. ‘It was their magic that brought us here. We have to assume they have the means to take us out again.’

  ‘And if they don’t?’ Silhouette asked.

  ‘Then perhaps we can find whatever route these golden Priests use.’

  Lily started to say something more when shouts and crashing from the tunnel came to them. A scream cut short as a bell rang briefly, then silenced.

  ‘It’s the Autarch Guard!’ Lily hissed.

  ‘What?’ Alex looked for exits.

  ‘Sounds like they got Samuel, but he rang the bell. We’ve been betrayed.’

  Duncan grimaced, clenched his fists. ‘One of those dumb lowen by the gate must have followed us or something.’

  ‘Maybe Blessed were among them,’ Claude suggested, his face dark, furious.

  ‘Either way,’ Lily said tightly, ‘they’re here now.’

  There was a crash and light spilled along the small tunnel.

  ‘They’ve found us!’ Duncan cried.

  ‘Is there a way out?’ Alex asked.

  Lily shook her head, pointed to the tunnel. ‘That’s the only way in and out. This is simply a secret space.’

  Alex grinned. ‘Good. Looks like we have a fight on our hands then.’ It felt good to have a purpose, however brief and pointless.

  Duncan gasped. ‘Ye can’t fight the Autarch Guard! They’re too strong, and they have magic.’

  ‘I have strength and magic of my own,’ Alex said. He turned to the others. ‘Rowan, take Duncan and Lily to the back of this cave and protect them. The rest of you, brace for a fight. Spread out.’

  ‘We could easily defend the tunnel,’ Jarrod rumbled.

  ‘We could also be caught out by something coming along it we can’t prepare for. Spread out, let them come to us, and finish it quickly. Then we know we got them all. Our only chance is to stay anonymous, hidden.’

  Sounds of pushing and scuffing travelled to them from the tunnel. Alex relaxed his aura, let his vision open. Figures dressed like parodies of Roman centurions tumbled from the tunnel mouth, brandishing swords and rippling with powerful energy. Alex recognised the shades.

  ‘Kin!’ he said, simultaneously with Silhouette and Jarrod making the same realisation.

  Claude began an incantation, the energy of his spell swelled into the room. Silhouette and Jarrod morphed into their animal forms, panther-like and wolf-like, and fell upon the Autarch Guard. Alex gathered the power of the Darak stone and dove into the fray.

  The fight was fast and brutal, swords flashed in the firelight, teeth and claws rent leather and flesh. Claude’s magic manifested in bolts of energy, knocking Autarch Guards off their feet for Jarrod and Silhouette to fall on. Too late the Guards realised what they were dealing with, too late they tried to shift their own shapes into something stronger, more dangerous.

  Alex ducked and moved between them, struck out with kicks and punches, lightning fast, his limbs iron-hard from his own magic. Six Autarch Guards had burst into the cave. Within moments, six bodies lay bleeding on the earthen floor.

  ‘By the Seven!’ Duncan declared. ‘I have never seen anything like that before!’

  ‘Void Lord’s darkness, ye’re more like the Priesthood than ye might admit,’ Lily said, crouching by the corpses, rifling for anything of value.

  ‘But at least you believe what side we’re on now?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Ye became animals!’ Duncan said. He reached out, touched Silhouette and Jarrod, back in their human forms, his eyes wide, almost worshipful.

  Lily grunted, a non-committal sound.

  Footsteps rang down the tunnel, getting fainter. Silhouette shot away. In a few seconds she returned. ‘Someone was still up there. They ran and I thought it best not to chase them through streets I don’t know.’

  ‘Wise choice,’ Alex said. ‘But now this place is far from safe. We need to move and make a plan. They probably won’t underestimate us again once these six don’t come back.’ He turned to Duncan and Lily. ‘You have anywhere else we can hole up?’

  Duncan shrugged. ‘Nowhere is safe really.’

  Alex pursed his lips, trying to figure out the safest way. ‘Then perhaps we just keep moving. We need to hide our auras, create a facsimile of lowen like everyone else. If these Priests are all Kin, they’ll read us easily unless we mask. And we’ll need clothes like everyone else.’

  ‘What about our skin?’ Silhouette asked.

  ‘And our size?’ Jarrod said. ‘I’m a big guy. No one I’ve seen so far is anything like me. We’re all too well fed, to be honest.’

  Duncan slapped Jarrod on the shoulder, grinning. ‘I’ve an idea! Let’s go.’

  The Autarch held his messenger by the throat, hand broad and black-furred, fingers shifting into long, dark claws. His face, halfway between bear and human, twisted as he growled. ‘What do you mean, lost?’

  The messenger gulped, eyes bulging. ‘They lost, sire. The Blessed who informed us of the others from outside gave us a location. The Guard found the place and went in and there was a fight. Which they lost.’

  ‘And how have you survived?’

  ‘Gerran told me to wait in the house above, in case any slipped by. I felt a massive swelling of magic and heard sounds of fighting. There were screams and roars. I ran down the tunnel to help and realised the Guard had been taken apart. Rather than sacrifice myself against those odds, I thought it better to report back to you and I ran for my life.’

  ‘Taken apart by who
?’

  ‘I don’t know, Sire. There were Kin and human among them, that much I could tell.’

  The Autarch snarled, his hand tightening around the messenger’s throat. ‘I’m tempted to kill you myself, you incompetent fool!’

  ‘Sire, please, I live to serve.’

  With a growl, the Autarch threw the man across the room. ‘Go. You’re lucky I let you live. Take more Guard with you and return to this house. I’m sure these interlopers are long gone, but if not, stay out of sight and track them. If they are gone, find them.’

  ‘Yes, my Lord.’ The man spun on his heel and fled.

  The Autarch turned to Gunnar. ‘Convene the Seven.’

  The prime chamber of the Tower of the Autarch was smoky with incense as the Seven gathered. It took very little time once the call went out. Tall, dark wooden chairs stood around a heavy table on which candles flickered and guttered. At the head of the table, the Autarch glowered. ‘We have a problem,’ he said, once the last of them was seated, and explained the invasion of Obsidian.

  ‘In all these centuries, this has never happened,’ Salome said, her east European accent rich. She leaned forward, resting long slim arms on the table, pale skin reflecting candlelight. ‘How is it possible?’

  ‘It should not be possible!’ Gerald’s voiced dripped with impotent anger. ‘There is nothing that makes it possible.’

  ‘And yet clearly it is,’ the Autarch said quietly. ‘Something allowed these people in.’

  Archibald, a mean-faced, red-haired Briton who spoke rarely if at all, grunted. ‘Something?’

  ‘Are they Kin? Human? Fey?’ Henri demanded.

  The Autarch turned to the skinny French Kin and shrugged. ‘At least Kin and human. Unlikely there were any Fey among them.’

  ‘Only Kin can pass between the world and Obsidian by the pathway,’ Salome said.

  ‘Which is guarded and was not breached,’ the Autarch spat. ‘They came via their own magic, which should not be possible. So, how did they do it?’

  Katherine spoke, her voice a plummy, upper-class British. ‘Perhaps we should ask the prisoner.’

  The Autarch waved a hand. ‘He’s quite mad and no use to anyone.’

 

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