by Paul Kelly
“Nice…” muttered Solomon.
The disgusting, acidic taste of the vomit filled Sybil’s mouth and she gasped for breath. The stench of it filled her nostrils. She felt her stomach heave again and more came out, she tried to stop it but she couldn’t, her body forced its will against her, her jaw locking. She groaned in pain as drool, blood and vomit mixed on her chin.
“Sybil? Are you OK?” Elijah asked, placing one hand on her shoulder.
Sybil brushed it off. “Get off me,” she muttered, backing away. It wasn’t true… It couldn’t be true…
“Sybil it’s OK,” Elijah replied, moving his hand back in what he probably thought was a comforting gesture.
“It is not OK!” Sybil roared suddenly, throwing the hand off and pushing herself to her feet. She moved a trembling hand to her face, wiping away the blood and vomit. They were all staring at her now, their faces hostile, leering. Sybil stepped back, slipping on a stray piece of the tent’s groundsheet and collapsing onto the floor. The three Seers towered over her, their glowing bodies blinding her eyes. She screamed, embracing the rhythm of the Pulse, the beat the same pillar of strength it had always been this far from Tommen. She saw Elijah step towards her, a hand outstretched, the gesture threatening, invasive. She struck out blindly, twisting the pulse into a cracking whip that threw him backwards. The tent collapsed against his weight and Sybil felt the canvas fall around her. She screamed in rage and confusion, twisting the Pulse into an inferno of fire, the beat’s noise rising higher and higher, producing an unstoppable crescendo that tore through the camp. And Sybil was at the heart of it. She was one with the beat. The tent was gone, mere ashes now, and in the distance she could see its inhabitants backing away from the heat of the flames. She cared not for them. The beat was her only concern, the only thing she had left to cling to, the only thing she had ever had to cling to. The beat was her life.
‘But it is a lie.’ The thought invaded her consciousness, aggressive and cruel. She screamed from the centre of the inferno, watching a thousand flames circle her in a twisting tornado, feeling the beat of the Pulse in every cell of her body. What was she? She towered over the campsite, feeling the air whip around her, her thoughts confused and chaotic. What were they all? Why did they even need the Arrival? The smell of smoke rose through the air, hot and choking. She was supported only by the thunderous beat of the Pulse as she slowly rose through the air, feeling its fragile structure meld and melt, as if subject to the hot desert sun. The Pulse could not be used in this way.
“Sybil!” she heard a panicked voice in the distance. “Stop this, Sybil you have to stop!”
Her concentration shattered. She felt the Pulse collapse beneath her, felt it recede into her mind. She plummeted down, her legs hitting the ground in a crash of hot sand. Pain shot through her but she barely registered it. What had she done?
She gasped for breath, then breathed in a mouthful of dust and coughed raggedly. Her every pore felt on fire, her very bones drained of all energy. She struggled to stand, her feet slipping on the hot sand. She felt a hand catch her as she fell and she looked up to see Elijah.
“It’s OK,” he said, his face fearful, but concerned. “Nobody knew. How could you have?”
Suddenly Sybil felt tears spring to her eyes. This pathetic Earthlander… he did not have the right to offer such forgiveness.
“You do not understand,” she wept. “The things I’ve done to the Wyverns, I didn’t know they were people. None of us knew, it’s unspeakable…
“It’s OK,” she heard Elijah say again and suddenly she felt his arms embrace her. She allowed it, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks as she finally relinquished her last ounce of self-control.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered.
Elijah didn’t answer her but his body comforted her, his arms holding her tight against his chest as her tears stained his ragged, woollen cloak.
Chapter 16 – The Tunnel
“I can’t believe you only broke one tent,” Elijah muttered as he walked inside. “Granted, it’s pretty destroyed, more destroyed than a feather in a bonfire, more destroyed than a spark in the ocean, heck I’d say it’s so far destroyed we probably couldn’t even manipulate the timeline to get it back.”
Sybil gave him an icy stare but then dropped her gaze. “I don’t even know why I care anymore. Everything’s been a lie. For all I know manipulating the timeline is as dangerous as cuddling a baby lamb.”
“Actually this whole using the power of Prophecy thing lets me go back in time and see what’s happened in the past… it’s destroyed whole cities before.”
“Oh that’s OK then,” replied Sybil, noticeably brightening.
“I watched thousands perish,” said Elijah.
“Brilliant news!” gushed Sybil.
“Uh, huh…” replied Elijah, becoming slightly worried that the girl he was beginning to develop feelings for was a psychotic maniac. That stopped his train of thought abruptly and his mind nearly derailed and went straight into the chasm of la-la land. He had feelings for a Skylander? He looked at the girl in front of him. She was pretty, in a grimy, dust stained kind of way. And she did seem more open minded than most Skylanders. At least she’d stopped wanting to silence him. But like her? Like, like-like her? It seemed a betrayal of everything he stood for. Both his parents had died because of the Skylanders. They may not have directly killed his father, but the blood was on their hands. But Sybil was as hated by the Skylanders now as he was… He shook his head, trying to clear it. These were deep thoughts. He didn’t have time for deep thoughts. He still had to rescue Truth. Once she was OK, then he could think about Sybil.
It was a couple of hours past noon and the air in the tent was hot and humid, although it was still better than being in the oven that was the desert outside. They were alone as Solomon was talking with Ash and the tent’s other two inhabitants had decided to give them a wide berth - no surprise there. Sybil had found some water to clean her face, but her white vest was still stained with blood. Sitting there, crouched against the canvas, she looked more like a wounded soldier than someone who had just had a nervous breakdown.
“What are they going to do with me?” she asked, her face impassive.
“Probably nothing,” Elijah shrugged, settling down beside her. Sybil shuddered a little as his shoulder touched hers, but she didn’t move. Old habits die hard, he guessed.
“Nothing??” asked Sybil incredulously. “That can’t be true. You saw what I did.”
Elijah shrugged. “Solomon says most Tears are worse than that. They all get what it’s like to lose control.”
“Tears?”
“It’s when a Seer first discovers their power,” explained Elijah. “It’s usually not a particularly happy occasion.”
Sybil’s face turned pale, her expression sickened. “Please don’t compare me with…” she gulped.
“Too soon?” he asked. She nodded glumly. Reaching out, he took her hand in his. She stiffened instantly, but she didn’t move. Her hand was warm and smaller than his. Somehow, holding it felt right.
“So no one knows about this back home then?” he asked conversationally.
Sybil shook her head, her hand still in his. “The Wyverns… we use them for training. We didn’t know they were people…” Her eyes were red and swollen and she blinked rapidly as she talked.
“I’ve done horrible things to them,” she whispered.
Well, this wasn’t a very cheery conversation, Elijah decided. He tried to think of something to change the topic, but his mind was blank. He felt awkward around the distraught Student, as if his every movement was an inconvenience.
“I knew it, deep down inside,” she whispered, breaking the short silence. “I get nosebleeds you see… always have when I overuse the Pulse. I always thought it was a sign of something… I guess I was right.”
“Yeah, right,” snorted Solomon. Elijah spun around as the old man entered the
tent. “Or rather ‘yeah, wrong’. You could never be a Seer, Student. You lack the gift.”
“It’s the same power,” muttered Sybil. “I might as well be.”
“You wish it was the same power!”Solomon barked. “Your pathetic Pulse is nothing compared to the timeline. If you could compare time itself to the ocean, that’s what we’d be using. Your Pulse is more like a puddle, a dirty puddle, it’s why you get your little nosebleeds. You are dogs, unable to comprehend the fact that the puddle you drink from is dirty.”
Sybil nodded, seeming depressed, as if all the fight in her was gone now. For all that she was, all that her people had done, Elijah couldn’t help but pity her. Of course, if he ever mentioned that, she’d probably cut off his head with that useless puddle of hers.
“Did you come in for a reason?” he asked Solomon.
“Just to let the Student know that Ash has decided her punishment. She will forfeit all of her rations until the tent is paid off and will be on call to fulfil any request that Ash has.”
“How far away is Ekriam?” asked Sybil.
“Two days journey.”
Sybil nodded.
Elijah stared at the two of them, trying to decide which of them had become more unhinged. “How is she going to survive two days in this heat without any rations?”
“She can make herself a sandwich,” replied Solomon and then laughed. “Get it, sandwich? Age has not dulled my razor-sharp wit, obviously.”
Well that settled the who-is-more-unhinged debate. Still giggling inanely, Solomon stepped outside the tent, leaving Elijah and Sybil, once more, alone.
They sat in silence for a while, with Elijah feeling more and more awkward, until Sybil spoke.
“What’s it like growing up in the Earthlands?” she asked, her eyes not even looking at him.
Elijah shrugged. “Pretty awful. Things were even worse during the Fallen War. There’d be raids the whole time. My mum never let me or Truth go to school. She said it was too dangerous. We used to stay at home. She tried to teach us letters, you know those weird squiggles? Never could get the hang of it. Truth was a natural though.”
“You have schools?” asked Sybil.
“We used to,” answered Elijah. “Before the Guardians destroyed them all when Prazna was taken.”
“The Guardians would never do such a thing!” snapped Sybil.
“The Guardians did a whole lot worse after taking Prazna, Sybil. They murdered my mother in front of my eyes. I was five.”
Sybil bit her lip, glancing away. “I’m sorry,” she said in an obligatory sort of way. “Do you still remember it?”
“No,” lied Elijah, the scene replaying in his mind’s eye, his mother’s blood dripping from his hands. “No, I was too young.”
He looked at the ground for a while and then because the silence was stretching and because he wanted to change the subject as swiftly as possible, asked. “What was it like for you growing up? Are your parents still up there?”
“We don’t have parents in the Skylands,” sniffed Sybil, her tone indicating that she was just as happy to ignore the whole we-killed-your-mother thing. “Most of us don’t even know who they are. In the Skylands, we are all appointed Raisers. Two of them can manage as many as twelve of us at a time. It also gives those who birthed us the freedom to continue their vital work, to the benefit of all.”
“So you don’t even know who your parents are?”
Sybil coloured briefly. “I said most of us don’t. I know my mother is an Earthlander, purely because of the shadow she has cast over my time in the Drum.”
“Wait, your mother is an Earthlander and you still think that you Skylanders are better than us? You don’t think that’s a bit of a pot-kettle-black sort of situation there?”
“It’s not about blood,” growled Sybil, as if the very word disgusted her. “We are better. We have electricity and running water. Your pathetic stone buildings can barely support a single power shard. We have a parliament and a functioning government which promotes law and order across every Island. Your city states are only a step above anarchy.”
“Better anarchy than being ruled by Tommen,” grumbled Elijah. “If you think the Skylands are so great why don’t you go back and tell them all about the Wyverns? I’m sure your enlightened people will accept you back with open arms.”
“No,” replied Sybil, completely oblivious to his sarcasm. “Tommen controls the Hall. They’ll just execute me. No, to solve this problem, I have to get to the source of it.” She turned her head, staring Elijah straight in the eyes, her gaze fierce and intense. “I’m going to kill Tommen.”
Elijah shrugged. “Well good luck. But if he survived being struck with the raw timeline, I can’t think it’ll be a particularly fair fight.”
“He has weaknesses…” replied Sybil. “He is clever, that is his main strength. Using the Probe to bring me to him… that was a good move. If you hadn’t arrived, I don’t know what he would have done to me.”
“Really?” asked Elijah. “I would have said his main strength is his ability to force every Skylander to do his bidding using his weird puppet-master powers.”
“No. That will make him over confident. He will rely on it. I can use that against him. His strength will be his undoing.”
Elijah shrugged, settling down on the tent floor to sleep. “So what are you going to do? Convince a Wyvern to take you back there, then lurk in the shadows and get him when he least expects it?”
“I don’t have all the details worked out yet!” snapped Sybil.
Elijah yawned. “OK. Let me know before you go… you know, so I can plan your funeral, that sort of thing.”
Sybil didn’t reply, but instead watched Elijah shuffle on the tent floor, trying to get comfortable. She didn’t try the same thing. Instead she just stayed seated, her eyes wide open, considering how to kill the most powerful man in the world.
Hours later, Elijah awoke to find Solomon gently prodding him in the side with one foot.
“Elijah,” he whispered.
Elijah rolled over and tried to pretend he was still asleep. The prodding became more insistent. “I think your Skylander is planning to betray us.”
Elijah gave up. “And why do you think that?” he asked, sitting up.
“She’s gone to speak with Ash alone.”
“I’m sure Ash is perfectly capable of defending herself,” yawned Elijah, getting up and stretching.
“Not if she stabs her in the back,” replied Solomon.
“I don’t think Sybil’s the type to do anything so subtle.”
Elijah stepped out of the tent and Solomon followed him, still muttering about how Sybil would be the death of them all. It was dark outside and around them, Elijah could see soldiers beginning to pack away the tents, so he grabbed a few pegs and began to take apart their own. Soon there was a huddled mess of canvas on the ground. Elijah stared at it. “What next?” he wondered aloud. A soldier wandered over and wordlessly began to pack it away into a backpack.
“Thanks,” said Elijah.
The soldier said nothing but was probably thinking something along the lines of ‘bloody civilians’.
Within minutes they were moving again. The night was dark and as cold as steel but at the pace Ash set, they warmed up quickly. At some point, Sybil came back, her expression dark, carrying a backpack which was taller than she herself was. Elijah thought about asking her what they talked about, but one look at Sybil’s face made him immediately reconsider this idea. Instead, they walked in silence, their steps muffled by the sand and the cold silver stars the only source of illumination. Every so often food was passed back through the ranks, but every morsel seemed to neatly avoid Sybil. So Elijah shared his. He didn’t know why he did this. He just knew that he didn’t like being hungry and he was willing to bet she didn’t either. Besides, he liked her. She may have tried to mutilate him once, but they were past that now.
Th
e night passed and the day wore on. Every so often they would stop for a break, but other than that the drudging pace was endless. What made it about a thousand times worse was that there were no landmarks. They may as well be walking in a giant circle. For all he knew, Ash just considered this all a character building exercise. Everywhere looked the same. Here, there was sand. There, there was sand. All that there was, was sand. Sometimes things would get real exciting and there’d be a cactus. Or a dune. Which was just a hill made of sand.
It was twilight on the second day when Ash at last called a halt to the endless march. They stood on the side of a steep slope and Elijah kept walking, trying to get to the top to get a better view. Sybil joined him. When they reached the top, they just stopped and stared.
Below them was the biggest city Elijah had ever seen. Bright torches flickered in the distance, illuminating the pale, sandstone walls of what could have been a fortress if there were not so many houses behind it. From atop the hill, Elijah could easily see over the walls and he gazed in wonder at the thousands of houses crammed together beside the ordered streets. They looked very cramped.
“Behold my rapt pupil!” Solomon shouted, running up beside them and gesturing vigorously. He took a deep breath and then shouted: “The ancient Seer city of Ekriam!”
Elijah just kept staring, unable to shift his gaze from the impossibly huge city. It seemed to go on forever and in its centre stood a huge rectangular building that towered over all the houses. Above it all, the silhouettes of dozens of Wyverns flew, their harrowing calls holding a whole new significance now. Elijah shivered, and not just from the cold.
“It is not going to be easy to get in there,” he breathed.
Sybil nodded, her expression cold.
“That is why we have this!” proclaimed Solomon. “Ash, ready the Tunnel!”
Ash gave him a strange look. “You know you can’t give me orders, don’t you Solomon?” she asked.