by Adam Dreece
The road snakes back and forth and finally dips, revealing a rust-roofed barn half a mile away in a valley. “Geez, do you guys plant crops everywhere?” I mutter, hoping for a scarred landscape that would give us some refuge.
“Yes, to do otherwise would be wasteful.”
I raise an eyebrow at her as she runs ahead. I can’t buy that oners are simply communities of people working for a common good. There’s got to be something going on. I stop in my tracks and glance about; thankfully there’s nothing. Paranoid, I close my eyes to see if I can hear any voices or anything, in case she gave me their blessing or whatever it is. Nothing. Wait, there’s something else though. “Hey! Hey, oner! Stop!”
She slides to a stop. “What are you doing?”
“It’s like I can feel it,” I say, rubbing my hands together. “My fingers… the tingling. My chest… There’s something that way, in the southern field.” I tear into the wheat field at full speed. She’s yelling at me, but I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. Something’s calling my body and soul, and I’m just bearing witness. It feels so familiar, I can’t explain it.
Fighting through the wheat, I finally arrive at a small muddy clearing, with a stagnant pond in the middle. “What?” I stare at it confused, searching about hoping for something else. “That’s it?”
“The pond?” she says, arriving behind me, a hint of irritation in her voice. “You ran back to the pond?”
Dropping to my knees, I lean over and look at my reflection. “Can you feel it? Something’s here but… This doesn't make any sense. I know this place… but I’ve never been here before.”
“We have to go,” she says, grabbing my shoulder, the irritation noticeably stronger.
“In a minute,” I say, shrugging her off. I wave my hand back and forth over the pond. "Maybe it's the water? Maybe something in it?"
“We need to get to the barn,” she says insistently.
Shaking my head, I reply, “Can't you feel it? It's like almost being home."
"We are going to burn to death, or be ripped apart while we burn. Let us go."
Timidly, like a child touching a celebration cake, I let one finger break the murky surface of the pond.
There’s a screech in the background somewhere, but I don’t care for some reason. I peek over at the oner who is standing like a statue, waiting. As much as I know we shouldn’t be here, I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. My heart’s pounding and my hands are trembling. I'm on the verge of bursting out with laughter or breaking down and crying. I recall feeling this way before, but I can’t remember where or when.
Taking a deep breath, I plunge my arm all the way to the bottom. I fish around. “There’s something here, I can feel it. I just don't know what it is...” Pulling my hand out, I stare at it. It's covered in black mud, shiny speckles here and there. "Yig!" I yelp, shaking some of it off my hand.
Sitting back on my heels, I rub my forehead, and without thinking I use the muddy hand. My eyes go wide and I jump into the pond before I know what's going on.
The oner turns to stare at me, her eyebrows up.
Laughing from the deepest part of my soul, I can’t stop slathering the mud from the shallow bottom all over my body. I roar at the sky and then look at her.
“Have you lost your mind?” she asks in that disjointed tempo of hers.
Shaking my head, I stare at my hands, turning them over and over again. “I feel more alive than I have in a long, long time. The energy… can’t you feel it? The river of warm and cool running through here. It's a mana oasis... maybe all the wheat or something else protects it. It's raw and pure... there's not much, but more than I need right now.” At the back of my mind, I can sense frozen memories thawing.
“You are a weslek,” she says, taking a step back.
“Yes, so? I need my short sword.”
She glares at me.
"We are on the same side. Yes, I'm a weslek." I hold my hand out. “I need my sword.”
The oner just keeps staring at me.
“The scar along the chest of that carn, I did that. And that was when I was at half-strength and didn't know what I was capable of. Now, I think I can give us a fighting chance. But I need to do something first, it’s my backup… just in case.”
She lowers her gaze for a second.
Shaking my head, I gesture again with my open hand. “You already knew I was a weslek, that’s why you mentioned the levi-car. I don’t know how you knew, but you knew. So move on with it, give me my sword, and let’s get the yig out of here.”
She takes another step back, both serrated swords in her hands now.
“Woo, put those down. What are you doing?”
“The leecher could be inside you, infecting you, her own twisted version of our blessing roaming around in your mind,” she says. Her face almost looks like she’s fighting the words.
I put my hands up slowly. “Leechers don’t work that way. She’s dead, and I’m fine.”
“We cannot afford that risk.”
“You need me to charge and drive the levi-car, or can you drive one?”
She glances away, thinking.
I put my hand up. “Do you feel that?”
“We already—”
“Not this, not the pond. That. That deep… that haunting sound? It’s more than I can feel it rather than hear it.” I turn to face the west and my mind goes numb for a second. “What’s wrong with the sky?”
She follows my gaze and we stare at where the blue afternoon sky changes to flaming red. She takes a step back. “That… that’s the rage of the carn,” she says. I’m unconvinced.
Pointing at it, I shake my head. “That looks like gods are reigning fury down on the world, and gods don’t exist.”
“It’s the carn,” she says, turning to me. Her hands are jittering. If she’s scared, then I’m terrified.
“Give me my short sword.”
She stares at me again.
“Look! I have no interest in controlling a colony or harming you. I just want to get to Banareal. I need to figure out the missing parts of my past, and who killed me. More importantly, I’m not interested in dying today, are you?”
“You’re a weslek, why do you need it?”
I stop myself from answering. My gaze keeps flipping between her and the fiery sky. It’s like a fire storm, and I can’t help but feel that it’s coming our way.
The question makes me twitch. “I serve no Wizard, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not part of whatever that is. I escaped a long, long time ago.” There’s something disconnected about her questions, and her expression. Maybe oners are terrible under pressure. “Like you, I’m my own master.” I can’t help but stare at the flaming sky. Neither of us has much of a chance against the carn on our own, never mind whatever that is. May I please have my short sword?”
“I told you, it’s the carn.”
“I don’t believe you,” I reply, wincing as I realize that’s not going to help me get my sword back. Surprisingly, she tosses it to me. I plunge it deep into the mud and crouch down in the murky water. Shutting my eyes tight, I concentrate on the image of a river of silver and blue light coming out of the ground, through me, and into the sword. It’s peace and serenity and joy and--
“Wake up!” she yells in my face, shaking me.
Blinking repeatedly, I nod.
“Yig, that fire storm’s getting closer.”
She points to a plume of smoke in the west. “The carn has set the fields ablaze. We need to head to the barn before our path is cut off.”
I glance at the short sword; it’s glowing a healthy blue. I slip it into my belt.
“Take this,” she says, handing me a bag.
“My pistol, thanks,” I reply, slinging it over my shoulder and following her. My body’s light and ready to move, what a wonderful difference.
The path seems endless until finally we emerge on the road. As we run down the hill towards the barn, I'm relieved to see it’s got a signific
ant amount of clearance around it from the potential flames. There's a few broken plows, and some other rusted farming equipment, around the barn. Some of it I don't recognize.
The barn’s got an old metal roof, rusted and the sides are rotting wood. It looks like it’s been there for decades, now on its last legs. There are rocks and old farm machinery around it. The oner opens one side of the double door and ventures in.
Swallowing hard, I stop myself from looking back at the fields and sky. The wind’s picking up, and I swear there’s a horrifying screech being carried on it. I can’t remember anything about carnu and fire storms, or having a screech like this, but the last thing I need to is rely on my sketchy memory of academia. Dealing with the oners has already reminded me of the limits of what I’d once learned.
Shaking off the sense of impending doom, I follow the oner. Inside the barn’s filled with tools and a few hay bales that have seen better days. Occupying most of the space is something covered in strange, shiny tarps.
“Help me remove these,” she commands, grabbing one part of the silvery covers. I help her get it off, and then stand there, stunned.
“This… this is an original two-seater levi-car. I remember these," I say, standing back to marvel at it. The poor thing's been ravaged by time and uncaring hands. Its paint is faded to a pale blue, its doors are missing, and there’s no glass. Walking around it, I remove the tarps covering something behind it. “What the yig is this?”
“We found it like that,” replies the oner. “It’s like someone bolted a cart on the back of it.”
I give her a sideways glance, but am drawn back to the modified, antique beauty. “It’s more than that. This is amazing,” I say peeking underneath. “Someone cannibalized a few other levis to make this flatbed a functional part of the levi-car. Look at this… the cloth webbing is still clean and firm, and the sapphire tubes are laid out expertly. Someone really knew what they were doing.”
The oner’s unmoved by my excitement. “We believe it was used to carry produce for trade, if it ever worked. That’s what we want.”
“Oh, I’m sure it did.” I follow the webbing and tubes all the way back to the engine panel, which pops open easily. “These models…” I tap my fingers together and smile as a memory comes forward. “I worked one of these once. This engine’s about twice the size than what the model came with. Someone’s done this themselves. This panel’s probably from a levi-car a generation or two later.”
“Do you think you can charge it?” she asks, the stiltedness more pronounced than before.
“Yeah.”
“Then get to work. We need that working immediately. The carn will be here shortly.”
“Right.” I get up close to the panel. "You're sure this thing should be working? It's just the charge that's missing?"
“Yes.”
Her certainty throws me off a bit, but we don’t have time. The engine pieces remind me of the one I’d looked at a few days ago when I’d first met the carn. Instead of three discs, it has two, but these ones are a healthy silver. “The cloth webbing and tubes look great. Weird… I’d have expected the charging crystal to be visible, looks like they’re behind everything. Weird design.”
“The mechanic One… we had… mentioned it was efficient. He considered modifying it.”
“Huh, I wish he would have. No way to know what’s really behind all of this. It could be a waste of time.”
“It’s not, get it done,” she commands, a hint of impatient irritation in her otherwise flat voice.
Scratching my cheek, I talk myself through how I think it works. Flashes of working with the Old Man on one in a barn similar to this one keep popping into my mind. “What did he say? The song… find the song.” I stick my finger in my mouth to clean it, spitting out the gross remnants with extreme prejudice.
Cautiously, I touch the cloth webbing and follow it up to the first silver disc, and then the tubes from it to the second, and then, now up to my elbow, I finally feel something cool and flat. My face lights up as I hear the faint, sweet sound of the heart of the machine. “I found its song. That means there’s no broken connections. The river of energy can flow around it and come back to the heart.” The smile hurts it’s so big. Pausing for a moment, I think of the Old Man. Insecurity makes me tap the short sword on my side. “You always said to bring your own end to the party, but we’re not ending today. I’m coming to Banareal, and I’m going to find out what happened to you, Old Man.” Something dawns on me. “Hey, do you have my map?”
The oner turns to me, her eyebrows up in a moment of surprise. She hesitates and then nods.
“Okay, good. I’m going to charge it. If it explodes and kills me, send my remains to Banareal, will you?”
She stares at me, a weird expression on her usually expressionless face. After several seconds she nods, and I start.
Closing my eyes and taking a long, steady breath, I imagine a river flowing from my core, through my arm, into the machine’s heart. Sweat starts beading down my forehead and my breathing gets more intense. “Either this heart’s resisting… or it’s got ten hearts that all need to be awakened. Yig this is hard… Hey! Hey! The song’s getting louder!”
I hear the barn door creak open. “Hurry, the carn’s almost here. Give it everything you have.” There’s a weird finality to her voice, but I don’t care. Her two serrated swords make a distinctive zing as they come out of their sheaths.
“GAH! I need more time!” I yell through gritted teeth. What was once a raging river inside me is quickly draining down to an annoyed stream. Maybe this is pointless. It’s like I’m trying to lift a boulder.
“What’s that deep hum?” she asks.
I open my eyes and turn my head about. “That’s the engine. It’s starting!” Shutting my eyes tight, I grunt and push harder. “Come on! Come on!” The deep hum grows and the engine starts vibrating.
The oner peeks out the barn door and then closes it. “The carn’s coming up the path, there’s fire everywhere. We’re out of time.”
I stop. “I thought you already said the carn was almost here.” Glancing around at the barn, I shake my head. “Wait, something doesn’t make sense. Why would it be coming here? You said it was pushing us towards here, but—”
She glares at me. “You need to get the levi-car up in the air! Focus!”
Nodding and with a deep breath, I give a final push.
episode twenty
Closing my eyes, I imagine pushing every last drop of energy out of me as hard as I can. The engine’s hum grows until one corner of the levi-car lifts up with a clunk, then another. I hold on tight as each of the six levitation points kicks in and the levi-car and its flatbed stabilize. “Haha!” I yell, withdrawing my hand from the engine carefully. I stare at the silver discs as they start to pulse, heat now radiating from them. Carefully I close the panel and hop down to the ground. “We need to turn the levi around if we’re going to have any chance of driving past the carn. And forget about trying to hit it with this, we don’t have enough room to get up to speed.” She stares at me, unflinching. I stare back, something’s off. “Will you help me push?”
The oner nods.
“You push on the far end of the flatbed, while I push on the opposite front end. It’s not going to want to move, remember, we’ve got to overcome that. Once it starts to move, it’ll be easy, just like getting a cart out of a rut. Got it?”
It bothers me how she’s standing there again, blinking at me. I can tell she’s thinking. What’s there to think about? Just when I’m about to ask her what’s going on, she replies.
“Yes.” She moves into position.
I search my shirt for a clean spot to wipe my face and give up. Planting my hands right beside the front levitation point, I dig my feet into the dirt floor. “Ready? Three, two, one, now! Grrr! Move! Move you yigging piece of… that’s it… Come on!” Finally, with a metallic groan, the levi-car gives up its desire to stay still and lets us spin it around.
Laughing, I bend over and put my hands on my knees, letting the muddy sweat drip off my head and face. “Give me a minute and then we’ll get going. With a bit of luck, we’ll get passed the carn and outrun whatever freak storm that is.”
The oner’s lips are pulled tight, her brow hinting at something I can’t pick up. “You seem tired. Will you be up for a fight?” she asks, giving me a sideways glance.
I wave her off. “Don’t worry about me, I’m exhausted, but I always have a little extra in the tank for emergencies. I have to say though, that levi-car felt like it had ten hearts, not one. Maybe someone over-engineered it? It was like it was made to empty me out.” Taking a deep breath and straightening up, I point at door. “Speaking of fights…” I look about, shaking my head, “shouldn’t the carn be here by now? Not that I want to die but… what’s going on?”
She stares at me, blinking. There’s that eerie delay again fragmenting her reaction. Her head moving back then stopping, her mini-expression then changing, and so on.
Squinting at her, I lick my lips. “There’s no carn, is there?” Scanning about, I spy my bag on the flatbed. Keeping an eye on her out of the corner of my eye, I decide to go for my short sword.
She taps the flat sides of her swords together and points them at me. “Drop your sword.”
My shoulders slump and I sigh as I let it fall and put my hands up. “Randmon, you around? You should have told me I was being an idiot.” I glance up at her, surprised she’s not telling me to shut up.
The barn doors are thrown open, drawing my attention but not hers. A thunder of footsteps flood in as the leecher walks in, leaning on a long staff, a stream of oners behind her walking in pairs. Each of them is perfectly synchronized to her steps, until she stops a few feet in front of me. The barn falls silent, at first, then the rumble from the distant storm fills the room.