Approaching Storm (Alternate Worlds Book 2)

by Taylor Leigh

Pushing himself away from the desk, Roth shouted back down the dimly lit hallway. ‘Hey, everyone, we’ve got a hit!’ His voice carried a crisp northern Scottorrian accent, but he blended in so well among the Scrabians most chose to overlook it.

  No-one answered him and he felt annoyance creeping into the back of his mind.

  Roth didn’t call out again. He made it a point to never repeat himself and wasn’t about to start wasting his breath, even if something exciting as this had just happened. He tapped a finger in a steady rhythm on the desk until he finally heard footsteps approaching.

  Amy Monstellar, the head of organising, eventually tromped into the room, Dillian Tron, the researcher, shadowed behind her large frame.

  ‘So, what fascinating new discovery has come to your attention, Roth?’ Amy growled as a greeting.

  Roth knew how to be patient. His job required that. Working with ancient technology and artefacts was, for most, a boring business. Suffering a woman like Amy, who blundered around like a trolling grunt was almost enough to set his teeth on edge. Almost.

  ‘I was doing a routine energy scan through the city—’

  Amy leaned against his chair, crossing her arms. ‘Do you know what I’ve been doing for the last two hours, Roth?’

  Roth scowled, hardly able to believe she wasn’t interested in the breaking news. Being interrupted was his greatest peeve and it took a great amount of restraint to keep from reacting. ‘Let’s see, you couldn’t possibly be working, so filing your filthy claws, perhaps?’ He pushed his shoulder-length, dirty-blond hair behind his ear.

  Amy’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’ve been reading Dillian’s latest report. Care to explain what the hell is the meaning of this? We’ve been working on breaking into the Crown’s vault for the past seven years and you mean to tell me that two amateur kids managed to break in from nowhere and steal the one artefact we were after? Sinsetun’s staff ring a bell?’ Her voice rose to a high pitch. ‘And what’s more than that, you want me to believe that they’re the spitting image of Princess Victoria Yasim and Andrew O’Neill, who died five-hundred years ago! Anyone want to explain this rot to me?’

  Dillian spluttered. ‘If you compare the security footage to depictions of the two we’ve found, it’s an uncanny resemblance to art at the time—’

  Amy’s face grew sickly sweet. ‘Oh, is it now? Well, that just explains everything. I guess I will just throw out all logic and concept of time because they look similar! Did it even occur to you that it’s probably a disguise? And you still haven’t explained to me how they got in!’

  Dillian plucked his glasses off of his face, withering before Amy’s towering shape. ‘I—I—I don’t know, exactly. From what we understand, they simply…appeared.’

  Roth slammed his fist down on the table, making his cup of coffee jump. ‘Can we please get back on subject? So someone managed to break into the Crown’s vaults. Yes, we missed an opportunity there, but if we don’t move fast then we’re going to miss another, and this one will be much more important! What my scanners just picked up is greater than anything we’ve seen in years!’

  ‘What kind of hit?’

  ‘There was a substantial spike in energy right outside of the city.’ He pointed at the screen with his stylus.

  ‘So?’ Amy grumbled, leaning over to look at the computer code on the screen. She was closer to Roth than he would have liked, and she didn’t smell all that pleasant either, he noticed.

  Roth took a deep breath. ‘So, the only thing that could cause a spike like that would be the activation of an ancient, powerful artefact. They all contain a signature energy signal that differs from any other signal we know of. Besides one. The very one we have measured from our work on Scottorr.’

  Dillian leaned forward; his large glasses magnified his eyes, reminding Roth of an owl. ‘He’s right, Amy. The EMP goes off the charts. It matches up with Erikson’s reports, from what I remember.’

  ‘It was followed by a massive explosion,’ Roth continued, steepling his fingers. ‘Someone obviously didn’t want whatever was there found. It’s the site of the temple of Korzan, or was. If you will recall, that temple contained odd other-worldly technology and was a point of obsession in O’Neill’s writings. Its loss is an unfortunate one. There’s been no word on the cause.’

  Dillian blinked. ‘An amateur Daemon hunter, perhaps? Could have been an accident.’

  ‘No,’ Roth said. ‘I highly doubt that.’

  Dillian frowned. ‘Then what?’

  Roth gave him a look. ‘More like whom.’

  Amy rolled her eyes. ‘You cannot be serious! He hasn’t been heard from in ages!’

  Roth shrugged his shoulders indifferently. ‘Simply a thought.’

  Amy sighed. ‘We’ll send a team out to look, though I doubt we’ll find anything once the police have already shown up.’

  Roth smiled wickedly. ‘I haven’t told you the best part yet. The energy barrier reported a blip. And the CCTVs confirmed it. A civilian re-entering the city.’

  ‘That’s not possible. Who was it?’ Amy demanded. ‘Where did he go?’

  Roth zoomed in on the map. ‘The cameras traced her journey back from the wall to a neighbourhood called Bone Ridge. It’s in one of the poorer districts, mainly for company workers. The man who lives at the residence is named Brock Turner. According to his cab card times, he’s working late. But he does have a daughter. Aged nineteen, named Samantha Turner.

  ‘If I’m right—and I’m rather certain I am—then this could be it. The final piece to the puzzle…our project could actually be up and running. Everything we’ve been working for…it could actually come true.’

  Amy crossed her large arms. ‘Do you have the coordinates?’

  Dillian nodded. ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Well then, send a team.’

  Roth frowned up at her for a moment. ‘This isn’t some abandoned pyramid in the desert, Amy. We’re talking about an urban environment full of residents. We can’t send a massive team in there to start poking about.’

  Amy looked down at him from her bulbous nose. She spoke in that patient voice Roth absolutely hated. ‘Look, Roth. I appreciate what you’re doing here. You’re very good at running the computers and fiddling around with your old toys, but leave the planning to me, all right? You said this spike is like something we’ve never seen before, am I correct?’

  ‘Yes. But I don’t think that’s a wise idea. Having the entire neighbourhood talking about black vehicles swarming their street is not the way to go!’ Roth stood from his seat. He wasn’t as tall as Amy and still had to look up. He squared his shoulders. His irritation was growing again. His brain absently wondered how much redder her face would turn if he reached up to strangle her.

  ‘You’re not here to think about these things, you’re here to monitor.’ Amy turned away from him and spoke into her radio. ‘Tim? Get a team ready. We’ve got a location to check out.’

  Tim’s answering reply came back through static.

  Roth sighed. ‘Look, just don’t send a huge team in. Four people at the most.’

  Amy looked over her shoulder at him but nodded in agreement. She spoke to Tim, relaying what Roth had said and continued walking out the door.

  Roth slumped back in his seat with a sigh. If he knew anything about Amy, he’d have that stone in his hands by the end of the night. Unfortunately for Brock Turner, that also meant he’d never see another sunrise.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam wanted to slam the door behind her when she finally arrived home but only just stopped herself. Waking her father was the last thing she needed.

  She’d made it past the energy barrier without trouble. The device the Traveller had given her worked just as he’d promised. She wasn’t noticed, wasn’t yet accosted and hadn’t been asked any questions. If any of the CCTVs caught sight of her, it so far had gone unseen by authorities. Even as she walked up her street and to her door she could hear the sirens blaring far away towards the explosion.<
br />
  Now that she was alone, back trapped in her house, things were all the more bleak. She had never felt so hopeless in her life, never so let down, never so depressed. She had found the Traveller; he’d actually admitted who he was, he’d saved her from that strange portal, from whatever the voice wanted her to do…And then he’d left.

  For a brief window of time she was another person in another world. She was no longer afraid. Her problems had felt intriguing, not terrifying. Because the Traveller could help her—save her. But when he’d left the feeling had left with him. She’d been unable to tell him why she needed him and he’d left her. She had, for one small piece of time, been in a wonderful dream. When he’d pulled her away, running down the hall hand-in-hand with her, Sam had never felt so safe. But he was gone now and her situation was completely unchanged.

  Sam dashed a few hot tears from her eyes, not sure if she was angry at herself or him. Over all, she supposed she was simply furious with the whole damn situation, for being too weak to say what needed to be said. Her new life was to be one of slavery. All because she was too weak to fight back a little pain.

  Sam looked at herself in the mirror; she was covered in red sand, her hair was wild, her makeup clumpy. She headed to the washroom as quietly as she could and cast a look in the direction of her father’s room. His door was open, the room empty. Another late night at work. At least she wouldn’t have to explain anything to him in the morning.

  Standing beneath the water was like heaven as all the grime and sweat of the day washed down the drain. Her nerves were so frayed it was impossible to calm, but she could collect herself. She shut her eyes and tried to tell herself that it was all going to be okay. She just had to play things safe. She’d looked for the Traveller and he’d let her down. Surely that would appease the monsters she lived with now. They had won, she was helpless against them. Surely the punishments would stop.

  As much as she wished they would not, the Traveller’s eyes persisted on shining in her mind, staring at her, comforting despite the fact he’d abandoned her. She still didn’t want the image to leave, but it would, she knew, inevitably be swallowed up by the darkness in her mind, leaving her numb and empty once again.

  She was very, properly, frightened. She’d seen too much, now knew too much, about a world she wasn’t sure she wanted to know about. Every shadow had taken on a more menacing quality. The world was not normal or safe, and she was completely alone. While, maddeningly, at the same time, she was no longer alone. All times, all places, all she did was being watched.

  How could she go back to life as normal now? It was impossible. Absolutely impossible.

  Her thoughts were broken as sudden, horrible scream ripped through her mind. Her legs were knocked from under her, throwing her up against the shower wall. Sam shrieked, slipped, and fell to the wet tile: hard. She blinked back the water flooding into her eyes, heart hammering. Trails of red slipped down the drain; she’d cut her knee.

  Not alone, not alone, not alone.

  Shakily, Sam stood and turned the water off. Fearful dread flooded her as Sam grabbed the curtain and yanked it open.

  The washroom was completely empty except for her reflection staring wildly back from the mirror. The water dripped patiently behind her. She cursed and dried herself off, trembling. Could she have no thoughts left to her?

  Then Sam curled up in her bed, fighting down tears of exhaustion and fear.

  Sam jerked awake, heart practically bursting through her chest. She didn’t know what had awoken her. More noise? With her night filled with terrible dreams she couldn’t begin to recall, Sam wasn’t sure if her fright was real or imagined.

  It had taken a long time for her to fall asleep, for as she lay in the watching stillness, knowing quite certainly that she was not alone, she had found an answer. The solution to her problem had hit her from the blue and she was shocked to discover she wasn’t even afraid of the idea, not even nervous. It seemed so simple now…painful, yes, but it was all she had left. She was stupid to not have considered it before.

  Cut it off.

  Her stomach had rolled over slightly at the thought of it. She wasn’t even sure how to go about it, but even as she drifted off, Sam knew it was what she would have to do.

  Now, after whatever had awoken her, Sam wasn’t sure if she’d get the chance. She silently cursed herself for not doing it as soon as she’d thought of it. Leave it to her to want to give herself one last night of sleep and miss her chance.

  Her eyes darted round the dark room, straining for any horrible monsters, pulse pounding in her ears, her muscles tensing to spring. Something at the foot of her bed caught her eye. A dark shape was standing there.

  The shape of a man.

  Very substantial.

  Very human.

  She let out a cry of surprise, lurching up to a sitting position, pulling her sheet up with her, while distantly wondering how exactly she expected a thin cotton sheet to protect her from this intruder.

  The shape leaned over towards her and Sam opened her mouth to scream. A torch light came on. She blinked, blinded, gripping the sheets round her and stared. She recognised him immediately. The Traveller.

  Her fright melted into baffling relief and then anger. The man’s expression was dark, serious, tense. Something was wrong—very wrong.

  ‘Get up and put on some clothes. We’ve got to go,’ he said, throwing a wrinkled jacket her direction. He stepped towards her window and peeked out, face grim.

  ‘You’re here!’ Sam gasped, unable to yell at him. ‘You actually came back!’

  The man swallowed hard, turning to look at her. ‘I’m sorry, Sam. I made a mistake.’ His gaze went back to the window.

  Sam jumped out of bed and came to stand beside him. She gasped. There were figures below, moving in the dark.

  She stumbled backwards and looked up at him, everything shifting in importance. ‘What’s going on? Who are they?’

  The Traveller’s mouth hung open as he peered out thoughtfully. ‘Myrmidons, I shouldn’t wonder?’

  Sam frowned. ‘Myrmidons?’ Her head was spinning. Several nights ago, waking up to a strange man in her room would have been on her list of nightmares. Now, however, she couldn’t be more relieved. Seeing the dark figures below was not as troubling as she supposed it should have been, either. Too much fright in one day did wonders for her concern.

  ‘Yup. Otherwise known as People-Who-Like-Daemon-Stuff. Looks like they’ve got their eyes set on you.’

  Sam crossed her arms, feeling morbidly calm. The Traveller’s presence was having a surprisingly comforting effect on her. ‘Who are they? What do they want?’

  ‘Well,’ he said slowly. ‘Put it this way, if they capture us, at least you won’t have to stay on Scrabia much longer.’

  Sam stood frozen, his words sinking in. ‘Right. What do we do?’

  He ran his hands through his hair. ‘Like I said, put on your shoes. Quick as you can. We’ve got to get out of here. Now.’

  Numbly, Sam did as she was told and looked back at her visitor. She was finding it hard to make sense of. So much had happened to her, it was difficult to process it all. Now here she was, in the middle of the night, with a strange man in her bedroom and intruders outside. How the bloody hell had her life turned into this? ‘We should go to the authorities,’ she said breathlessly.

  The Traveller made a face, eyebrows rising. ‘Yeah…Probably not the best idea.’

  She wobbled as she straightened. ‘But why?’

  ‘No,’ he puffed impatiently. ‘Because these people no doubt have moles in just about every government department and they’re in control of most of the information transmitted on this planet. They’re watching your house, and probably have been for some time!’

  Sam trembled as she pulled her jacket on, eyes glued on her companion. ‘Look, I can’ just go! My father—’

  The Traveller darted to the door and peered out into the darkness, thin frame alert and lithe.
r />   ‘I can’t just leave my father!’ she said again.

  There was a gentle creak downstairs. The Traveller stiffened slightly. His face was dark with shadows as he turned back to her. ‘Sam,’ he said slowly, taking a step. She suddenly didn’t want to hear his next words. She backed away as he approached. His hands clamped onto her shoulders, sending a warm wave washing through her. ‘Sam, I’m sorry. I really, truly am.’

  ‘No…’ she breathed. The floor spun.

  ‘If I would have understood sooner, perhaps I could have done something. By the time I arrived at the company, it was too late. I’m so sorry.’

  Sam shook her head. The noises from below continued. Someone was rifling through drawers downstairs. Those people had murdered her father because of the bloody thing. He was gone and it was all her fault.

  And then her grief was evolving. Her movements suddenly weren’t her own. She felt her body staggering towards the door against her will, mouth already opening to cry out to those below. Panic filled her as she unwillingly shoved past the Traveller to the hall.

  He hissed out a confused cry for her to come back but Sam’s body ignored him and she dashed across the carpeted hall towards the stairway. Before she could shout out, there was a hand clamped over her mouth and round her waist. He was pulling her back to her room, clearly baffled.

  ‘Please,’ he whispered in her ear, warm voice breaking through the clouding fog. ‘Please, Sam, please just trust me and don’t go out there.’

  She shook in his arms; staggering for the door again. ‘I can’t stop it!’ she gasped.

  He frowned down at her, seeming to try and figure out what she was getting at.

  From the hall came sounds of people climbing the stairs. ‘Out of time. Come on, we have to get out. Now.’

  Pain roared through Sam as her companion clasped her hand in his and pulled her to the window. The thing inside was resisting with all of its might. It took all of her effort to keep from shouting out as the entity burned her insides. The Traveller didn’t ask what was wrong, but by the way he glanced at her, he was working it out. She concentrated on her fingers wound in his; it was the only part of her that wasn’t wracked in pain.