City of Dust

by Michelle Kenney

  ‘Let’s do it! Now!’

  Somehow my feet fell into a sprint down the dark metal corridor, chased by the ceiling screens as we ran. And every image was the same – smiling, laughing Pantheonites watching our every move, cheering as though we were just sport. Blood sport. The little apricot monkey incarcerated in the laboratory cage flickered through my head, and I swallowed the hot bile burning my throat. We were just laboratory animals to them. Live game to be used, and manipulated, as they chose. How did it feel to have so much expendable life at the fingertips? To play creator? I shook with anger. They still didn’t understand what it meant to be feral.

  I skidded to a halt at the end of the black mesh corridor. It was a dead end.

  ‘It goes nowhere!’ I yelled at Max, glancing back down the black tunnel.

  An ominous grating noise reached out through the black. Max yanked out his crossbow and started attaching his hunting rope swiftly as I scanned the walls. The strix were cawing in excitement and the grating noise was getting louder. Was the floor moving? I got my answer all too soon as the silhouette of their huge, calcified bony beaks suddenly became visible above the murky floor line.

  ‘Max, the floor is rising; they’ll be free any moment,’ I gasped, just as he released an arrow through a hole above our heads.

  It landed with a clatter, and he pulled until it stuck tight. Then he grabbed me, and forced me to take the rope.

  ‘It’s a game, remember?’ he urged grimly. ‘They want a show. We just need to stay one step ahead. And right now, that means playing by Cassius’s rules, right up until we find his weak spot.’

  I nodded, adrenaline sating my veins as I pulled myself up the rope, hand over hand. Then, with a couple of swift kicks I was through, and the ceiling lit up with a roaring crowd. I grimaced. Clearly, not everyone found the hole in the ceiling.

  Max pulled himself up behind me easily, and unhooked his arrow from the second-floor mesh wall.

  ‘Told you it would come in useful,’ he breathed.

  I raised my eyebrows, before gazing around cautiously. We were in another black, uninviting tunnel, but the screeching noises beneath us were getting louder. The strix were loose in the corridor below.

  ‘Think those things can climb?’ I asked.

  ‘Let’s not hang around to find out,’ he muttered.

  Steeling myself, I slid a foot forward into the darkness, and thankfully the floor seemed solid enough. But we’d only trodden a few more steps when the air was consumed by a fresh metallic groaning, and everything started to shake.

  ‘It’s moving,’ I yelled. ‘It’s all moving!’

  So, I threw my arms out and grabbed the only static thing there: Max.

  For a few moments we clung together as the metallic monster incarcerating us shed its skin and morphed into something new. Then the floor fell away from beneath our feet, and we tumbled down into a newly created tunnel. There wasn’t time to yell as the ceiling followed us at an abrupt speed, forcing us to crawl like animals along a narrow, claustrophobic pipe. Hysteria started climbing my throat, just as Max’s warm hand closed around my calf. Reassuring, always just behind. I steadied my breathing, consoling myself with the thought that at least the new tunnel was too small for the strix to squeeze through.

  But it was also too far from Aelia, and there were tiny scurrying noises all around. I’d never been afraid of the creatures that crept and scurried in the forest, but this was not Arafel, and we were trapped inside a small cramped space. As if on cue, Max cursed, and jolted behind me.

  ‘Bastard thing bit me!’ he cursed through gritted teeth. ‘Argh! And another … Tal, for the love of Arafel, move!’

  I willed myself to crawl, ignoring the way my hands and thinly covered knees pressed into the large segmented abdomens and thick scurrying legs of whatever was sharing our confined space. They were big – there was no denying that – with strong wings that fanned open without warning, carrying their jellied under-bodies directly into my face. I squeezed my eyes and mouth closed, denying the prickling horror that was stealing across my skin, and concentrated on moving. Hand over hand, knee after knee.

  Several times, I felt their incisive pincers sink in with blade-like ease, and had to stifle a yell in my throat, not wanting to give our spectators any more satisfaction. And I could tell Max was just as close to losing it as me. He needed me to be strong, as much as I needed him to be there, always just behind. And so I pushed forward, head down, willing there to be an end, willing myself in the bright open sunshine of Arafel’s forest. And then, just ahead, there was a murky glimmer of light.

  ‘Max!’ I whispered, just as one of the creatures’ spiky legs brushed my lip. The contact gave me the last bolt of energy I needed, and I barrelled through the rest of the confined tunnel, conscious of Max’s intense stress behind me.

  We sprawled out into the half-light of a regular-sized tunnel together, and I twisted, dragging myself away from the strange insects spilling out with us. I stared at our hybrid companions. They had to be at least thirty centimetres long, with dark bulbous eyes and cockroach top shells concealing white jellied bodies and thick, scurrying legs.

  ‘Ugly pinching biters!’ Max jumped up and started swiping himself down like a madman.

  ‘Uh, you got one …’ I started, pointing at his head.

  ‘What! Where?’ he responded, swatting every part of his rugged outdoor body, before he spotted my wry smile.

  He shook his head, grinning, while my heart ached like it was being squeezed. Humour. We were facing our deaths and it was still the best I could do? The screens went quiet above my head as I threw them the most sardonic smile I could muster. It didn’t matter what Pantheon threw at us. We were stronger. This much was true.

  Then I spotted the timer. It was in the shape of an egg timer, and glowing red in the corner of the ceiling screen. It was also a quarter empty.

  ‘A quarter of the time’s gone!’ I hissed, scrambling to my feet and looking up and down the tunnel, trying to get my bearings. ‘We have to keep moving!’

  I couldn’t let myself think what might happen should the time run out before we got to Aelia, assuming that was the point of the game. Or perhaps it was just plain survival. Who knew what the rules were, or if there were any. Was Cassius watching? Somehow, I knew he was, even if he wasn’t in the Flavium, and the thought gave me the ugly fuel I needed.

  A show Max said, well, he was going to get that, at least.

  I led the way down he nearest tunnel, but had only managed a few paces before Max reached out.

  ‘Tal! It’s too quiet, which means this is exactly what they’re expecting us to do!’ he whispered. ‘If it’s a game, we should do the opposite!’

  I bit my lip. He was right, of course; it made complete sense. We turned and started back towards the corner, just as a fresh grating noise echoed through the air. I hesitated, and in the next breath a black iron mesh dropped directly in front of my face. Dividing us.

  For a second I only stared, refusing to accept we were actually, physically separated. Then the whites of Max’s eyes confirmed it. And I kicked and yelled with every bit of hatred coursing my veins.

  ‘No!’ I yelled, my fury echoing through the shadowed corridors, rendering the screens above our heads dead silent.

  ‘Cheat!’ I screamed at the top of my lungs, not caring who or what else was in the cage in that moment. ‘You son of a miserable, lowlife, bitching cheat!’

  ‘Tal … Tal!’ Max’s hoarse whisper brought me back to the breathing darkness with a slam.

  ‘Sssh! Don’t … turn … around.’

  It was then that I sensed the stakes had changed. And it wasn’t his words, so much as the fear behind them.

  He lifted his crossbow, and angled it through the wire mesh directly at me.

  I stared, feeling my breath shorten. Max was never this serious – ever.

  ‘When I say drop, drop,’ he muttered, screwing up one eye in concentration, a bead of perspirati
on just visible at the top of his forehead.

  And then I heard it. Behind me. Not close enough to touch, but enough to know it was big, snorting and angry by design.

  I nodded, my mouth like arid soil. One, two, three seconds crawled past, and I could feel the crowd’s hateful anticipation above my head. Watching and revelling. Some of them cowering behind their hands.

  ‘Drop!’

  Max’s whisper echoed as loudly as a roar inside my head. I slammed down and spun to face whatever it was, just as Max released an arrow. And for a second, I couldn’t breathe. Something told me this was what it was all about. Ludi.

  It was huge, at least three metres tall and bulky with it, filling the entire width of the corridor. And its hairy body oscillated awkwardly, as though every breath cost it effort, but it was its thickened snorting head tapering into two colossal, twisted horns that held my terrified gaze.

  ‘No,’ I whispered, as though the word, if spoken aloud, would register on some divine barometer and force the mercury in another direction altogether.

  It couldn’t be, not this time. Not now.

  The slim arrow slammed into its shoulder, and the beast screeched in fury, retreating back down the corridor into the darkness. Then there was a rough, ratcheting sound. It was the sort of noise no natural animal would make, and one that buried itself, like a beetle, beneath my skin.

  ‘Run! There’s a turning on the left. I’ll go back around. We’ll meet!’

  Only a crack in his last whisper revealed his fear. I stared back into the eyes of the best friend I’d ever had.

  ‘Don’t be late,’ I breathed, before sprinting into the darkness.

  Blood pounded in my head as I rounded the corner Max had pointed out. Another long dark passage stretched out, but my only thought was to put as much distance between me and the towering creature, as possible.

  I sank my teeth into my lip, releasing a drop of bitter red as I flew. How could I not guess this labyrinth would hold one of Cassius’s prized creations? The strix and giant insects were clearly only the warm-up, and now we’d found the main attraction. And it was furious.

  My sprinting steps echoed horribly without Max’s solid pace behind me. My back felt exposed and the Ludi darkness even more terrifying, but more than that I suddenly and abruptly felt sadder than I ever had in my life. I shot a swift look around. The air looked misty blue in this part of the maze, and the screens above my head had taken on a muted, distant look too. My pace slowed as the fog of negativity and disbelief spread.

  Why was I bothering? We were going to die anyway. And wouldn’t that be easier than running, always running?

  I shook my head, not understanding the sudden hopelessness that was swallowing my energy. My limbs felt wooden and heavy and all I could think of was lying down and giving in. The light was getting gradually bluer, and I was walking now. The beast was close again. I could feel it. I could sense its laboured breath. Perhaps it was right behind me, but I couldn’t turn around.

  It was all too much. They’d already taken Grandpa, the Book of Arafel, and Lake. And now we were trapped. There was no point. Fairy tales didn’t exist. Dad was dead, Grandpa was dead, Pan was dead, Lake was probably dead. Pantheon was going to win. In the end.

  ‘Tal!’

  Max’s voice was above my head, his strong hands were beneath my shoulders, and he was dragging me. Until the blue mist was gone.

  The darkness was my friend, bringing reason. And suddenly hope. I shook my head, trying to sit up. It swam, and I swallowed to ease my fiery throat.

  ‘Don’t let them think they’ve won … not for one second,’ he forced, hoisting me onto my feet as the maze returned to monotone around us.

  ‘Max!’ I threw my arms around him.

  It felt unbelievably good to have him next to me again, to feel his warmth seep into my cold wooden limbs.

  ‘Where is it?’ I whispered, looking back over my shoulder.

  The blue mist was completely gone now, leaving only the breathing darkness in its place.

  ‘I don’t know, and I’m not hanging around to find out. This way.’

  He dragged me into a run back in the direction from which he’d come, the screens going crazy with noise as I stumbled back to life.

  ‘What happened back there?’ he asked as we picked up our pace.

  ‘Not sure! There’s some kind of light mist that sucks the life out of you.’ I grimaced. ‘Either that, or I’m losing it completely.’

  He threw me a wink. I scowled, trying to remember some of the science Dad taught us about the old world. He’d mentioned chemicals that could influence moods, something to do with natural circadian rhythms, and experiments with lights. He said they were used in scientific trials before the Great War. This had to be a new experimental line for Pantheon. Clearly, not all its monsters bore teeth and claws.

  We turned a corner and pelted down the connecting tunnel and, within seconds, it had turned back on itself before turning left again. Then we glimpsed her, Aelia, imprisoned inside the spherical mesh orb that now appeared to be slowly lowering. My heart leapt higher than a new springbok. We were closer than I thought. And if we could reach her, we might just stand a chance.

  ‘Aelia!’ I yelled, injecting a spurt of speed.

  She saw me right away and gripped the wire mesh of her ball, shouting, but the box was completely solid, muting any sound whatsoever.

  ‘Mih … noo … taure?’

  I read her lips, stringing the sounds together trying to work out what she was yelling. And then it made sense. I cursed softly, and exhaled as a prickling feeling tiptoed across the back of my neck.

  ‘Minotaur,’ I whispered, and as if it heard, there was a soft, low growl somewhere ahead in the tunnel. It was waiting. It knew.

  We skidded to a halt, silently. Cassius was going to keep going until he’d used up all his cards, so why did I keep thinking it was OK? It was a game, his ugly little game. As Max said, we just needed to be stronger and faster.

  And more feral. I grimaced as the tunnel started to shake, and the shadows merged to form the shape of a gargantuan, mythological Minotaur. A raging one.

  There was another deep snort that resonated down the tunnel in shock waves. We took a step back and it matched our stride deliberately, its muscles rippling and yellowed eyes gleaming, locked on us.

  ‘What do we do?’ Max whispered at my shoulder.

  ‘We run,’ I breathed, ‘back through the mist.’

  ‘Yes,’ he whispered, understanding. ‘Now.’

  We spun in unison, and pelted back down the corridor as the beast crashed after us with a furious bellow.

  ‘Minotaur?’ Max asked in a strangled voice, as we rounded the corner a few seconds before the beast.

  ‘Minotaurus,’ I yelled, willing my legs to work harder and faster.

  The screens above our heads were bright, affording us a first detailed view of the mythical beast on our tail. It was colossal, and the dim twilight all over its thick bull face made it look bruised with fury.

  ‘What?’ Max repeated, as we tore up the new tunnel.

  ‘Minotaurus … is the Roman equivalent!’ I yelled.

  ‘Right … it’s still a feckin’ huge bull!’ he ground out.

  ‘Shield your eyes as best you can,’ I returned, as we entered the blue-misted corridor, the ceiling alive with exhilarated faces.

  I felt my pace slowing almost instantly, and reached out for Max’s hand.

  ‘Keep moving,’ I forced through my numbing lips. ‘Just keep moving.’

  I could see the darkness up ahead where the mood mist finished, and I clenched my free hand, aware Max had slowed down. I twisted to see him. But it was hard, so hard.

  ‘Not much further,’ I pushed into the strange dead air.

  ‘I … can’t.’ His words were like tiny leaden hammers, falling straight to the floor.

  The screen was going crazy, and my feet were dragging abnormally against the mesh floor. Somehow, I
managed to twist, and was filled with a strange disembodied sensation to glimpse the hulking Minotaur bellowing its drunken rage to the screens, its powerful legs buckling.

  ‘It’s workiiiiing …’ I slurred.

  Max’s hand was becoming colder, more of a dead weight. And then I was aware of the floor getting closer, of a violent crash as Max lurched forward. I was on my knees, and the darkness was reaching out, just in front of us. I twisted one last difficult time. But the tunnel was completely empty. And my head was too exhausted to understand why.

  Silence.

  Hollow, laboured breathing.

  I lifted my head. We were both down. My eyes glazed over the screens of Pantheonites going crazy – to my crumpled best friend, still inside the light.

  My own legs, also beneath the light, were completely paralysed. And all I could hear was the slowing thump of my own heart, pulsing with fear, with blood, with Arafel. Before Grandpa’s voice.

  ‘You have a feral heart, Talia, like the black leopard. Strong and free.’

  And somehow, with sheer gritted will, I pushed my elbows forward, and dragged my inert lower body into the darkness. Then I reached out and, wedging my numbed forearms beneath Max’s shoulders, pulled until I thought my limbs might separate. My efforts were enough to drag his torso clear of the light, and slowly the colour returned to his face.

  ‘Max,’ I whispered, cradling his head, and watching the darkness around us.

  My voice was hoarse with effort, but we were hardly out of danger yet.

  He slowly eased an eye open.

  ‘Think … I might need … CPR,’ he croaked into my knee.

  I hoisted him up to sitting, pulling his legs clear of any remaining light.

  ‘You’ll get more than that if you don’t get your legs working right now,’ I hissed.

  It worked. He rolled over onto his knees and then staggered up onto his feet. The blue light had faded to a faint illumination, leaving us alone and exposed in the murky darkness.

  ‘Didn’t follow?’ Max muttered, extending a hand and yanking me to my feet. Whatever the mood-affecting light mist was, it clearly didn’t have a lasting effect once you were clear.