by JM Guillen
***
—screamed. The vastness of it loomed over me, a gigantic predator. Nothing whole or wholesome could be here, and I understood why we had failed—
***
—the world. Everything. These things showed as little more than dreams before it. Dreams that savaged—
***
—everyone. And sorrow. A Crown of thorns within my mind.
I moved, felt as I was lifted—
***
—by Gideon. He grunted and slung me over a shoulder. “Elle! Mark!”
“Cannot feel,” I muttered to him.
“Hold on, Bishop,” the gruff man muttered. “I’ll get you out. All we have to do is get to Elle’s aperture.”
It isn’t a real one. She burbled in my mind. It’s sharp. We just don’t feel it.
“Just a few more meters—”
***
—Bishop. A man stood over me, a flat device of some kind in his hand. It’s happened again.
Bishop. That single word make no sense, felt like garbled sound in my mind. I blinked against the brilliant white light.
We retrieved more this time. A woman spoke in my mind, a voice I didn’t recognize. More than we did in the last three attempts.
Are you with us, Bishop? The man smiled.
Bishop. That was me. Michael Bishop, Asset 108.
An older man wearing utilitarian blue and white clothing stared down at me. He gave me a kind smile. Asset 108, we need you to confirm you are with us. What is your auth code?
“Authorization code 020798361,” I rattled off. I blinked at the man and glanced blearily around. “Where am I?”
The Darkened Road
January 6, 2001-Present Day
Istanbul, Turkey
Earth
Amir glanced over his shoulder as he left the alleyway, then increased his pace. He gathered his thick robes about himself, cut across a market street, and peered furtively about.
Current trajectory intersects with Locale One. Anya’s link felt like quicksilver in my mind. This confirms the Designate’s suspicions.
He’s headed to the Vefa Kilise Mosque. Gideon snarled through the link.
Bastard’s nervous. I ghosted down the street to keep him in sight.
Did he make you? Gideon sent abruptly.
No. If he could see past the Wraith, he’d be staring directly at me. But he’s peering all around.
Rationality readings have dropped point four within the past eighty seconds, Anya sent. Perhaps he has detected pursuit but cannot perceive it directly.
I’ll hang back. All Gideon has to do is get in one good shot with the Huntsman, and we can follow his ass anywhere. If we know he’s going to the mosque, we can afford to take care.
Oh, now we’re being careful? Rachel teased.
The Vefa Kilise Mosque nestled into one of the older neighborhoods in Istanbul, on the southern side of the third hill of Constantinople. Constructed in the tenth century, the ancient structure remained an elegant and beautiful house of worship.
As far as most were concerned.
Roughly three hours ago, long-range telemetry had detected several subtle variations in Rationality in the neighborhood and therefore placed the location under surveillance. Quite soon, we detected the presence of Irrational targets. Following that, the Designates confirmed their identity.
El Camino Oscuro. That was what they’d called themselves in Mexico. Here, they were Gizli Yol. It meant the same thing in the end.
The Darkened Road.
I can see the mosque.
The building lounged against the hillside, surrounded by other, smaller structures.
Amir strode confidently toward it, then stopped for a moment to speak to another robed man.
Almost to you. Gideon’s marker showed he stood less than one hundred meters away. I’m engaging the Wraith as well.
Copy that. If the target holds here, I will wait.
Don’t let him out of sight. I can always catch up.
In the middle of Gideon’s link, Amir began to move again. He strode confidently, purposefully, and blended in with the rest of the clerics in his dark robes.
Whisper-quiet, I slinked after him.
Anya, I linked as I passed two men who stepped from a building, can I get real-time Rationality variations on my visual?
Of course, Michael. Her prompt link contained a touch of warmth. There will be a slight time variance, within the millisecond range. Also remember that this is the cumulative effect of two readings.
Yes, I recall. I smiled at her through the link. That will be fine.
In the upper left corner of my visual, the numerals -4.7 glowed in a soft orange.
The inside of the mosque showed its age artfully. The foyer contained large, arching marble doorways with faded murals stretched all along the walls. White candles burned just inside the wooden doors, set in golden holders.
I’m in. I paused. I still have him.
Amir’s apparent front as a cleric from another mosque served him well as he slipped past the faithful. Tourists, guided by a dark-haired young man, crowded near, and the bearded Irrat stepped past them to duck down a passageway with nary an annoyed glance his way.
I’m just outside, Gideon sent, his reticule a mere ten meters away.
Hurry in. I trotted past the tourists. I’m just down the way.
Amir strode with purpose as he wound his way past tourists and worshipers alike. He got stopped twice by robed clerics, but after a brief word, he strode on.
They know him, Gideon linked. His marker showed him only a few steps behind me, where he remained beneath his own Wraith. He must have been here for some time.
The secondary signature is destabilizing. Anya’s clipped link held more than a trace of warning. It now reads at negative four point eight.
We need to take him down. I ground my teeth. He’s pulling something.
No. Gideon’s link held as much tension as I felt. We follow him. We find out what the assholes are doing. You’ve waited five and a half years, Bishop. He paused. We can wait just a bit longer.
Copy that, Alpha, I sighed.
Your adrenaline levels are going to force my hand here, Bishop, Rachel linked sharply. If you do jump the guy, just a little blood and you’ll go all bestial on us.
I’ll cool my jets. I knew Rachel could feel my eye roll, but I didn’t care. I hated feeling like I had a nanny.
Amir stepped from the main gallery into a side hallway and nodded at a bearded man.
We slipped after him, less than shadows as our quarry moved past a small statuary and into another side hallway. Less than two minutes of meandering later, we no longer heard the crowds.
More murals lined the arched hallway. Nestled before them, small, recessed niches had been carved into walls older than most countries. Candles flickered in each and cast dancing shadows against the far wall.
Amir knelt before one. He rocked back and forth and muttered to himself.
Here, I linked to Gideon. Get ready for some fuckery.
Mark the target’s current location, Anya.
Will comply, Alpha. As we watched, our Crowns translated the man’s tongue.
“[Father of my fathers, Lord of Hosts, Binder of Light and Heaven, hear me,]” Amir whispered in Turkish and reached beneath his robes. There, he hid a small leather satchel. From within, he produced a book, little more than yellowed, loose pages roughly bound in red leather.
He opened the book with reverent, shaking hands.
There. Gideon’s link held a mix of awe and jubilant triumph. That’s it.
Amir glanced around, as if he’d heard the link. Then, he returned to his prayer. “[You who fashioned the firmaments from the darkness between worlds, hear me. Weaver of thaumaturgy, of secret fire, hear me.]” He reached for the wall and flipped through the pages of his book.
Rationality dipping, Anya warned us.
I watched the numerals in the corner of my vision flip to -5.9.
> “[My life is yours, my blood, my will.]” Amir’s voice trembled. “[Show me the hidden road.]” He traced his fingers against the ancient wall, and shadows unfurled around him in dizzying ripples. The man spoke a single word, a sharp syllable I couldn’t hear—
And something answered.
It was no voice, nothing that could have come from any mortal frame. The sound echoed to my very depths, cried from the dark places of the world.
Space itself bent, sundered.
Negative six! R negative seven point three! Anya’s link to the team carried her urgency but no panic.
Look at that. Gideon felt almost smug.
I’d rather not. The hallway had transformed, twisted inward upon itself in some dizzying fashion I couldn’t comprehend. I had to close my eyes against it as I felt the first hint of nausea trickle through me.
Reality snapped taut. Amir stood in the hallway and peered down into a worn stairwell. Firelight flickered up from below and cast gentle light across his dark features.
He stepped inside.
Follow him, Gideon linked before I could question. If he closes it from within, we’ll lose him.
Asset Guthrie could easily replicate the specific resonances of Irrationality used here, Anya reasoned. If required.
It may be more than simple frequencies, Anya, Gideon replied.
Right, I interjected. Besides, even with his invisibility tent, Wyatt isn’t exactly stealthy. I stepped forward. He can’t gear the Wraith and the tangler simultaneously, so he’d stick out.
I trotted forward, Gideon just behind me. As I approached the corner, I slipped my hand inside my heavy coat and pulled one of my kinetic disruptor pistols—
—and saw Amir as he stood stock still in the stairwell. His head cocked just a touch, and he seemed thoughtful, as if he faintly heard something.
What’s he doing? Gideon’s link felt genuinely confused.
Amir shouldn’t have been able to hear us walk; the Wraith muffled noise as well as bent light. I leaned forward slightly to get a sense of what had caught the man’s attention.
Nothing.
He listened for a moment longer and placed the book back into his satchel. He rummaged around for a moment, then pulled a second item forth, something that gleamed silver in the flickering light.
A mask. Gideon realized what it was before I did.
We still know who you are, asshole, I snarled at Amir, even though he couldn’t hear us.
This confirms past intel. Members of the Darkened Road prefer to keep their faces hidden, even from one another, Anya interjected.
We remember, Gideon groused.
The mask fit perfectly over Amir’s face, a metallic work of horrific artistry. Scrawled, mad glyphs scrolled intricately across its surface, and it pushed his thick hair back and up.
He glanced down the hallway once more, spun on one heel, and traipsed down the stairs.
I followed. No hesitation.
Rationality stabilizing. Anya’s clipped link startled me.
The smooth stone walls shone with reflected candlelight from the few tapers that lined the room. The short passageway ended at a heavy door with an iron pull ring.
Just before the door, Amir stopped again. I jerked to a halt myself and silently prayed Gideon wouldn’t bowl me over.
“[Father of Fathers, Keeper of the Misbegotten, hear me.]” Amir pressed his palm to the wall, turned and peered back down the wide hallway toward us.
I’ll admit I felt a bit unnerved as he stared completely through me. His black eyes shone behind the mask, and it had muffled his voice yet added a hollow, echoing resonance.
The readings in the upper left corner of my vision slipped from -4.1 to -4.7.
“[Keep us well, as you ever do, and hide our ways from those who would foul our works.]”
Gideon… I turned to glance behind us, though I knew he couldn’t see me change direction.
Hold position. He paused and the link felt tight. We might not get another shot, Bishop.
“[Their foolish eyes unseeing, the eldritch fire hidden.]”
Rationality dipping again, Anya warned.
He’s shutting the door, I explained. No sooner did I link than shadows blossomed around us as flickers of candlelight whipped wildly from a sourceless wind.
And the voice, that malevolent thunder, spoke again, ringing through reality itself. With one simple word, existence was made and unmade, shaped into a different form of being.
This time, I didn’t watch. I tried not to listen as well but couldn’t stop that terrible, boundless voice from vibrating into my bones.
Then it ended. The way home stood closed.
That’s swell. I couldn’t help a flash of bitterness. I’m glad we’re trapped in here with the mad cultist.
We aren’t trapped, Gideon reminded me. Not as long as you have a spare Tabula Rasa. Also, I’ve got null-materia rounds.
True enough, I conceded. It probably wouldn’t come to using Gideon’s antimatter shots. The Rasa had it covered, obliterating all matter within a certain radius.
No matter how Amir sealed the way, no wall would hold against complete eradication. Surely, it wouldn’t take more than one to get through that wall—and I had three.
Amir turned toward the door and pulled it open. Sibilant shadows awaited within, thrown by the scarcest flickers of yellow light. I stepped forward, trying to follow squarely on his heels before he closed the door—
Except that he didn’t. He stepped into the twilight and didn’t bother with the heavy door.
Darkness enfolded him.
Wait. Gideon’s sudden warning came like a hammer in my mind.
I froze in place.
Bishop? Suspicion laced his question. Why didn’t he shut the door? Who is he leaving it open for?
Um. My invisible eyes widened at the implication. Did Amir know he we followed him? Us?
Right.
Optics. I performed the mental twitch that shifted my vision from my physical eyes to my Crown system. It remained one of my favorite tools, creating a composite of night vision, infrared, and certain Facility frequencies—
A low, jolting buzz sounded from somewhere above my right ear. Only darkness lay within that room.
Or perhaps not.
Rachel, is my optic system online?
Confirmed, Bishop. 100% functionality.
Anya, I also can’t see into the room before us. Gideon furrowed his brow as he linked. Is our target still within that chamber?
Affirmative, Alpha. The Irrational signature is still approximately eight meters in front of you.
What is he waiting for? I squeezed the hilt of my disruptor pistol.
“[I hear you.]” Amir’s whisper cut through the darkness, a sharp, dangerous thing. “[Foolish, coming here.]”
I’m stepping in. I didn’t wait for my Alpha’s order but drifted into the shadows, then shifted to my left. Gideon could still see me on his system, but perhaps if I stood in the darkness, Amir wouldn’t be able to track us.
“[I wonder who you are.]” The words canted dreamily, almost sing-song. “[Are you here in a dreaming-shape? Are you some wanderer washed upon our world’s shores?]”
Dude loves to talk, I linked as I crept sideways.
“[It matters little what you are or where you come from. You are not welcome,]” he growled, and I could hear his wicked grin. “[Leave. I give you your life, but you must go.]”
Cocky little shitter, Gideon remarked. He truly must not know who we are.
“[There are nine blasphemies that can sunder a man’s mind,]” Amir continued conversationally. His voice was tightly controlled, as if he barely held the reins upon his own sanity. “[Nine lamentations that shatter the truths we cling to.]”
Flanking. Gideon’s blue indicator stepped in behind me and slipped around to the opposite side. He’d scarcely moved a meter before the orange reading in the corner of my vision dipped a point.
Sub-Rationality increasi
ng. Anya paused, as she perused the long-range telemetry. Negative eight.
Bishop, Gideon warned. He’s—
Light, sharp and brilliant and furious, burst from Amir’s hand. It burned with a hateful wrath, cascading shadows against both ancient bricks and the metal door behind him. It scalded impossible shapes into my mind.
“[You who bound the very lights of Heaven, hear me!]”
The fluctuations aren’t focused upon the Irrat, Anya sent. It’s the secondary reading. The book.
Fuck. Gideon’s link seethed. Bishop, close on him! Now!
Copy that, Alpha, I couldn’t help a feral little grin. We’d waited five and a half years to put paid to these assholes and now—
Amir gestured, and his fingers clawed at the space in front of him. He clenched his hand, and the light pulsed once, scattering shadows.
Amir hissed a word that was no word.
My mind grasped at it, but it slipped past me, like sand in a windstorm. It was a word that felt like chewing razors. It echoed in my heart, a darkness no fire could quench.
Michael! I received Anya’s link at the same moment I watched the Rationality readings spiral downward on my readout.
Negative eleven.
Shards of molten glass burst in my mind. A sharp, glittering burn clawed at my left temple, and I staggered, crying out wordlessly.
Hot!
Invisible cobwebs of flame covered my skin for a single instant.
I opened my mouth to scream and stopped as the sensation dissipated. I blinked, confused in the cooler aftermath.
Gideon stood across the room, gaping at me with stunned surprise.
Rachel? Gideon linked before I truly realized what had happened. What is the status on the Wraith?
Offline. Her puzzlement felt plain. What the hell?
Amir paid Gideon absolutely no heed. The moment the Wraith disengaged, his dark eyes fell upon me, glittering behind that horrific mask.
“Michael Bishop.” His deeply accented English held a few sharp burrs, and I heard his smile even behind the twisted metal leer. “Oh, how pleasant to meet you again.”
Obsidian, Wind, and Ictithia