Welcome Home (Alternate Worlds Book 3)

by Leigh, Taylor

  At long last she made it to the far side of the island where the path broke into two different directions; one winding round the other half of the island, the other splitting the island in two—the path she and Tollin had taken when they’d first arrived. It ran straight to the far building where she’d started.

  She was debating when something behind her made her pause. Or, rather, it sent the hair on the back of her neck rising. Slowly she turned round, not very much wanting to. She could have sworn she’d heard something. But there was nothing there. Nothing but the bell tower standing in the water. The one spot on the island she’d not investigated.

  Something about the place had repelled her on some instinctive level.

  It was so out of place it might as well have been dropped in as an afterthought, clashing with the design of the rest of the world. And unlike the other structures, nothing moved; not even the hands of the clock. She glanced up to the great, unmoving bell. That had to have been what she’d heard. Yet there’d been no wind to move it…

  Sam swallowed painfully before climbing up the three metal steps to the grated walkway and hesitantly treading along it. It rattled beneath her feet, bouncing up and down slightly with her weight. She looked down. Her image was reflected up to her from the pastel coloured water.

  Ahead was a gaping archway: the interior black and unlit. She made it as far as that and stopped. The daylight cast in a triangle of light, revealing a cylindrical pillar jutting up about a metre from the floor.

  She shuffled forwards as cautiously as possible, not sure why, but reluctant to cross the threshold. The thing was a great, open pipe, complete with ladder curling from the mouth and anchored firmly to the floor, like some ugly tongue. Sam edged her way towards it and, after making sure she was indeed completely alone, mounted the three rungs to have a look inside.

  It was black as tar. Sam had left her torch back in her rucksack but wasn’t quite sure she wanted to shine a light into the pit. Where could that possibly go? It was a bit difficult over the pounding in her ears, but Sam tried to listen. She could hear nothing at all from below. No lapping of water or ticking of machines. Nothing at all.

  Her skin crawled. Just how far was it? Sam fished into her pocket and pulled out a penny. After a moment’s hesitation, she let it slip from her fingers down into the black.

  For about four pulses there was nothing but silence. And then came back to her a clink, clink, clink—SMASH!

  Sam’s throat went tight. That was not supposed to happen. Had her little penny managed all that? Of course, of course. That was all it could have been. It still didn’t stop the distinct mental image of an insect beneath a cat’s paw.

  No sound at all now. No growl, no shift, no rattle or footstep. It had to have been just as she’d assumed: her coin had dislodged something and it had crashed to the ground…

  Quickly she let go of the ladder and backed away. She wasn’t keen on climbing down there without a torch, and she couldn’t concern herself with the paranoid suggestions her imagination was so helpfully conjuring. For now, it didn’t help. She would only consider going below as a last resort, and Sam sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  She hurried out of the tower and cast her frazzled attention to the last island. Though it appeared no different than the others it had to be; Tollin’s rescue plan would take a serious hit otherwise.

  Sam sprinted along the path, past the strange mirror, over the bridge and to the front steps. Whatever apprehension shrouded the clock tower had no presence here. Whether false or not, she felt safe as she climbed the stairs, stepping round lazy crabs.

  The interior was vast and elaborate, as the others were. There were various odd contraptions and, at the far end, there stood a massive face carved of gleaming metal.

  It made Sam pause.

  In an unfamiliar place such as this, she almost expected to feel its breath. The face was carved so peacefully it might well have been asleep. Great wavy lines twisted away from the mouth, all sparkling with planets and worlds and people. Sam studied it for longer than she’d meant, mesmerised. The only flaw was that some of the silver had tarnished in a way that almost seemed burnt.

  As she shook herself awake she noticed something at the base: a thin pedestal stood beneath the parted lips and sitting on top of it—like a drop of dew—was a ball of glass.

  She practically bolted for it. It was something—and by the looks of things, it had to be important, hadn’t it?

  Sam swept the orb up the moment she established there was nothing else to be done. The affect was almost instantaneous. As soon as it was settled in her palm, it began to sparkle happily.

  Sam nearly dropped it in surprise. The ball continued to brighten till suddenly, from the glass burst a ray of light. The beams went morphing before her, filling out, and Sam was suddenly faced with a tall, transparent, flickering, figure.

  It took a moment to compose itself, then spoke: addressing her, its pixelated eyes locked on hers. Unfortunately, what came from it was nothing but gibberish.

  ‘Sorry,’ Sam said, disappointed, ‘I don’t understand you.’

  The projection paused for a moment, then started again. ‘I should have known. Forgive me. The last I spoke to preferred Dragoonian. I often fail to remember that most speak Common.’

  She could understand! Her heart punched a little faster. The image stood still, waiting for a reply. Finally she nodded. ‘Yeah, s’okay. Don’t worry about it, mate. Um, who are you, exactly?’

  The projection smiled broadly. ‘I am the Helper. I assist those unfamiliar with this Realm and those who need information quickly. How may I serve you?’

  Sam couldn’t help but jump in excitement. She spun in a circle, spinning the projected image with her. ‘Really? Brilliant! Oh, that’s wonderful!’

  The hologram looked slightly ruffled when it was finally stationary again. ‘I take it you need help. How may I assist?’

  Sam decided to get straight to the point. ‘It’s my friend. He’s accidentally been trapped in a different Realm and I have no idea how to get him out!’

  The projection blinked. ‘Splendid! It has been ages since I’ve had a problem to work.’

  ‘Come on, then! We’ve got to hurry! I don’t know what kind of Realm he’s on, he could be in trouble!’

  Without another thought she gripped the orb tighter and went racing back. The hologram trailed behind her like smoke, yet still flickering with life.

  When Sam finally reached the viewscreen she could hardly contain her excitement. She was going to get Tollin back! What luck! And without bothering with Andrew. Brilliant!

  She struggled to hold still as she presented the hologram with the crystal for the Realm. ‘My friend. He’s trapped in this Realm, here.’

  The hologram sent a beam of light from its eyes, running over the crystal. ‘Oh dear.’

  Sam frowned. “Oh dear” was rarely ever good. ‘What?’

  The projection’s face darkened. ‘I cannot help you in respect to that Realm because it is not included in my programming. I am banned from accessing it.’

  Sam took a step back, disappointment slamming hard. ‘What?’

  ‘All information regarding that Realm is not in my memory banks. I cannot answer that question.’

  The injustice of it all was too much. She’d found someone who could help her, and the one Realm she needed help with the hologram couldn’t work! She turned the crystal over in her hand and spotted something marring its smooth surface. She’d been so distraught she’d not noticed before. ‘Hang on! There’s something written here!’

  The helper shifted back. ‘I am afraid I cannot—’

  Sam groaned ‘Right. Well, you know about this Realm, right?’ She held up Scrabia’s crystal.

  Again, it scanned. ‘Ah, yes, Scrabia. I am familiar with that Realm.’

  Sam let out a tight puff of breath. ‘Great. I need to find a certain time. It’s going to be in the past. During the First Myrmidon War. Do
es that ring a bell? It has to be the year Four-hundred eighty-five. I’m not sure about the exact date, I think we should start with the first month and keep going till I find who I’m looking for.’

  The hologram adopted a thoughtful look. ‘It is a local name, but I believe I can narrow in on the proper time period.’

  Sam’s bunched muscles unwound a little, aching. ‘Fantastic.’

  The hologram guided Sam through the steps and though Sam had no idea what she was doing besides pressing buttons and turning knobs and sliding levers, she was aware something was happening. Gradually, the screen turned the image of the dark room, back, to a lighter room and more put together. Sam realised she was going back in time. It was such a strange sensation; Sam tried to not think on it.

  And it made her impatient. If she’d felt more confident she would have ignored it all and gone on working on a portal to pull Tollin out without Andrew’s help. Yet if it was something so sophisticated and delicate as Tollin made it sound…how easy would it be to make worse by helping?

  The hologram eyed her. ‘If there is a particular moment in time you will need to move more carefully through the dates, I suggest using the smallest dial.’ It gestured to a knob Sam had been afraid to touch. ‘It will help you scan for what you’re looking for more thoroughly.’

  Sam experimented, watching as the past and present whizzed past her dizzyingly. ‘This doesn’t seem possible.’

  The image smiled. ‘Do you wish for me to explain it to you?’

  Sam shook her head. ‘Not right now. I’m overwhelmed enough as it is. Say, can you help me translate what all these scribbles mean? If I knew what I was reading...?’

  The hologram paused. ‘I can. However, my alphabetic memory banks are not fully loaded. If you could allow me several hours, I will power down to restore my image and memory quality. If you would be so kind to give me twelve hours to rest my system, I will be more useful to you.’

  Sam nodded. She’d been overly optimistic at how quickly things would move with the hologram’s help. ‘Yeah, sure. At this rate I don’t think I’ll need you till the morning. Guess the translations can wait.’

  The image nodded with a warm smile. ‘Excellent.’ It paused for a moment. ‘If I may offer you a word of advice: it would be…prudent if you locked the doors and did not leave this building once night falls.’

  Sam felt an icy hand of fear clamp itself round her spine. ‘Why not?’

  The hologram’s brightness was already beginning to fade. ‘It is advisable…’

  And then it was gone. And Sam was left alone. Outside, the invisible sun was already lower on the horizon. How long till dark? And what menace waited out there once the light was gone? Without Tollin here, Sam was vulnerable, helpless. Skinned.

  She pushed herself up from her seat and forced herself to walk and not run towards the doors. At their opening she paused, looking out to the calm, lonely island beyond. The sky had turned a pinkish colour, much like the rest of the landscape. Wouldn’t be long now.

  Her eyes raked over the deserted paths in search of anything out of the ordinary, sinister. She saw nothing—save for that ugly black tower.

  With a grunt Sam pulled both of the heavy doors closed and dropped the bar down across them, locking the rest of the island out of sight. Then she squared her shoulders and marched back to the viewscreen.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Ten

  After a good deal of preparation, work and arguing, Andrew finally had gathered his team and the entrance to the strange temple cleared. He’d drummed up as much attention to the capping of the first steam vent and the laying of pipe that no-one questioned his small diversion several kilometres away. For all they knew, it was part of the plan.

  Stepping through to the alien territory had been terrifying in Victoria’s opinion, but she wasn’t about to be left out. So, armed with nothing but torches, they squeezed through the small opening and spilled into a surprisingly cavernous space. It was so unexpected she had to stop and stare as Andrew went babbling about this or that, mind completely running on its own track, forgetting Victoria entirely. She had to smile at his enthusiasm.

  From what she could tell, it was just one large room, but with as much sand that had spilt inside, she suspected there was possibly much more to it. Impossible to know.

  ‘You can tell by the arches this wasn’t made here!’ Andrew’s voice bounced round the dark space.

  Victoria frowned. ‘The arches?’

  ‘Yes. Look at the structure of them, the material, the way it’s made; you cannot tell me this was made by human hands! No doubt different from anything you’ve ever seen.’

  Victoria tilted her head back to follow where Andrew’s long, thin fingers went sweeping. It was difficult to see in the jumping shadows. Yet he had a point. It wasn’t anything she recognised.

  She turned back to frown at him. ‘So, the arches are different. What does that mean, exactly?’

  Andrew picked his way towards her, eyes glinting. He lowered his voice. ‘As hard as it is for me to admit, this temple—tomb—whatever it is, isn’t from Scrabia. This stone isn’t…isn’t stone. It isn’t…made by human hands. If it was…ancient Scrabians…why is this so completely unrecognisable? Why is there nothing here we can match to?

  ‘What if someone came here, generations before anyone can remember, trapped now only in legend, and they left this?’

  Sometimes Andrew had a way of stating things that made absolutely no sense, but this was different. He was actually claiming …something she couldn’t come to terms with it. Andrew didn’t believe in such things.

  ‘What…I…’ She cleared her throat. ‘I think you’ve been in the sun for a bit too long. You need some water.’

  Andrew gript her shoulder with his free hand. ‘Victoria, I know what I’m saying and I know how it sounds. This doesn’t come easily to me, but there is no other explanation!’

  Victoria turned her gaze round the vast cavern, suddenly feeling very small, indeed. ‘But…’ Her eyes burned. It wasn’t possible.

  Andrew seemed to understand what she was thinking. He always did. His eyes softened. ‘Victoria, this might be…overwhelming, but just think: We’re the first; this is our discovery! We’re making history. It might be terrifying to think of, but this is something important and we have to move forward with clear heads.’

  By “we” Victoria took to mean “you”. She was tempted to point out that they were not the first to discover it. If anyone should get credit for that, it should perhaps be Noel.

  ‘Can you do that?’ Andrew asked.

  Victoria nodded, trying to still her pounding heart. ‘Yeah. Sorry, just a bit stunned right now. Having trouble swallowing all of this.’

  Andrew released her shoulder with an agonisingly beautiful smile and spun away. She followed him, bewildered, as he moved deeper into the dark.

  ‘So, how’d they get here, then?’ Victoria called after him.

  ‘I don’t know!’ He almost sounded delighted—that was unusual. It was a rare moment when Andrew didn’t know, and it always threw him into a cross mood. This was, for some odd reason, different.

  ‘Should have asked Noel to come along,’ she sighed. ‘Maybe he’d know something about it all.’

  Mentioning his name sent an unexpected flutter through her belly. Since their first meeting he had been to visit him more than once—at his nearly pleading request—and was finding she was becoming very drawn to the man.

  Why someone as intensely gorgeous and potentially important—a prophet, no less—would want to spend his time with ordinary her was beyond all reasonable explanation. He spoke in such a charming manner, had such a beautiful smile…so very different from gruff, impatient Andrew.

  Noel was the example of a man that everyone wanted, and nobody could have. And his attention was a welcome thrill. With everyone suddenly becoming so special and she still feeling so ordinary his flattery was welcome, till she remembered
her mother was enjoying the same attention as well. Then she didn’t feel so special.

  Andrew let out a near snarl. ‘Noel,’ he sneered the name. ‘And what good would that sun-stroked lunatic be here? Look charming as he got in the way?’

  Victoria huffed her breath. ‘Just a suggestion. After all, he was found here, wasn’t he? But I can understand how you don’t want anyone else treading on your ego.’

  Andrew shot her a withering look before lapsing into stony silence.

  ‘I don’t think he’s a lunatic, though,’ Victoria proceeded cautiously. ‘He claims he’s a prophet, you know. He says the world’s going to end. He’s going to announce it soon. I know you don’t go for all that rot but I think it could be true. There’s something about him. He wants to learn. He wants to help you! When we’ve spoken he’s had nothing but respectful things to say. I think you really should talk to him. I think he’s like you.’

  Andrew spun in the sand. ‘Do not mention me to him! And I would appreciate it if you would not speak to him at all! He’s…’ Andrew swallowed, expression blanking a little, ‘unbalanced.’

  Victoria narrowed her eyes, trying to pick out anything from his once again closed-off expression. She hadn’t thought Andrew and Noel had had any interaction. Had she missed something?

  ‘All right. Sorry, didn’t mean anything by it…’

  In her opinion, he didn’t have much room to be cross. After all, he’d been spending nearly every free night he had associating with those Myrmidons; attempting to conjure up spirits and other such loathsome things.

  For several long, silent hours, Victoria and Andrew went over every corner of the room. The more she saw, the more it baffled her, and, as much as she didn’t want to believe it, confirmed Andrew’s statement: this was not of Scrabia.

  ‘This is going to change everything,’ Victoria whispered.

  He cast her a gaze. ‘How so?’

  Victoria slipped down the sandy slope to the wall Andrew was closely examining. ‘I mean, this proves that there are other…intelligent beings out there somewhere. Just think of what will happen when people find out!’