An Echo of Things to Come

by James Islington

  He quickly let kan slip away again, turning his full attention to the way forward. The tunnel was straight and so not completely dark, the light from outside filtering down far enough to see by. The atmosphere in here was not what he’d expected, though. Rather than cool shade, the air felt just as hot as outside—only muggier, damp and dense in comparison.

  He frowned, pausing just inside the entrance to let his eyes adjust. Ishelle’s form blocked most of his view, but beyond her he could already see the end of the tunnel, perhaps thirty feet ahead.

  They hurried forward silently in single file, Ishelle stepping aside once she reached the end so that Davian and Fessi could join her in the space beyond. The light from outside still provided some illumination, if only just; Davian could make out the walls as they sloped away and thick stalactites on the roof, but little else. The back of the cavern was cloaked in darkness.

  Davian shuddered. The sighing sound was louder in here, echoing around, though he still couldn’t feel a breeze on his face. He stepped farther into the cavern, hand brushing against the wall.

  He snatched it back immediately. The stone was smooth and stickily damp, as if the cave were sweating.

  “There’s something very wrong about this place,” whispered Fessi.

  Davian opened his mouth to agree—there was certainly something unsettling about it, far more than just the knowledge of where they were—but he shut it again as the sound of tinkling water reached his ears. He licked his lips, suddenly registering just how dry his mouth was.

  “The stream’s this way,” said Ishelle.

  Davian eyed her warily in the dim light. Unlike he and Fessi, Ishelle was moving around the space with confidence, walking without any apparent concern for stumbling over anything in the dim light. He didn’t think that she was leading them into harm—and he wasn’t sure that they had much alternative but to trust her, at this point—but it was yet something else to make him wonder what was going on with her.

  He and Fessi followed Ishelle cautiously, their footsteps squelching unpleasantly in the silence.

  After about thirty seconds—the light spilling from the tunnel behind fading and fading until they were walking in near complete darkness—a glimmer caught Davian’s eye up ahead. After a few more moments, he realized that Ishelle was leading them toward another passage, this one angling downward.

  “That’s a torch,” he said softly, nodding to the light, though he doubted either of the others would be able to see the motion. “Somebody’s been here, Ishelle. Recently. What is this place?”

  “I don’t know.” There was genuine frustration in the other Augur’s tone.

  Davian stretched out cautiously with kan again, but aside from the faintly flickering torch on the wall, there were still no signs of Essence. He sighed.

  “Lead on,” he whispered. “Just be careful.”

  They moved into the new tunnel and began descending, Davian gratefully taking a little Essence from the first torch that they passed, easing the ache in his muscles. The path went downward gradually at first, but after a minute became an increasingly steep incline. The rock underfoot was damp and dangerously smooth, seemingly that way due to myriad deep scratches that appeared to have worn away every rough edge of the surface. Davian kept one hand on the wall as he walked, close to slipping several times as his boots failed to find purchase. Ishelle stumbled once, too, with only Fessi seeming to handle the slope without any difficulty.

  The eerie sighing sound from the cavern began to fade as the trickling of water grew louder and louder, much to Davian’s relief. After another minute the corridor opened up, dropping away on the left to reveal a stream emerging from somewhere above, creating a small waterfall before running alongside the path. Davian could see by the light of a nearby torch that the water looked clean and pure.

  “Careful,” cautioned Fessi. “We have no way to know if—”

  Davian and Ishelle both dropped to their knees, scooped up handfuls of water and drank them.

  “It’s fine,” said Davian with a sheepish smile at Fessi. He shrugged at her look. “Honestly, I’m not sure how much farther I could have gone if it hadn’t been.”

  Fessi sighed, but nodded and joined them. Once they had all drank their fill, Davian leaned against the wall and gave a satisfied sigh, ignoring the odd damp on his palm as he pressed it against the rock. After a moment, though, he stiffened.

  “Quiet.” He held up a hand to the other two. “Do you hear that?”

  Echoing down the tunnel—in the same direction from which they’d just come—was an odd, harsh scraping sound.

  And it was steadily getting louder.

  Fessi grabbed Davian with one hand and Ishelle with the other, squeezing her eyes shut.

  Sounds—the scratching from the passageway, the crackling of the torch, and the tinkling of water—vanished. Davian glanced at the stream, impressed by how gradually the water flowed now; he had to concentrate to really see that it was moving at all.

  “Farther down?” he asked quietly.

  Ishelle shrugged, and Fessi mimicked the gesture. “Not many options,” she observed, voice tight from concentration.

  They set off, walking swiftly. After a couple of minutes the path branched; upon closer inspection, Davian realized that the right-hand one was not another tunnel at all, but rather a short passageway into a large room. He motioned to the others.

  “We’ll be trapped,” observed Fessi.

  “But we can get out if whatever’s coming goes past. Even if it doesn’t, there’s space to hide, and enough room to maneuver past if you can keep up the time bubble.” He licked his lips nervously, all too aware that they wouldn’t have put much distance between them and whatever was approaching. “It’s a risk either way, but this at least gives us a chance.”

  Fessi grimaced, but inclined her head. Ishelle—who had, worryingly, started to get a distant look in her eyes again—blinked, and then nodded, too.

  They hurried into the room. It was well lit by torches, though the air was stale, even more so than outside.

  He felt Fessi flinch; he turned and almost let out an oath himself at the figure standing silently in the corner of the room.

  “Fates,” he muttered, shaking his head ruefully.

  It was a suit of armor—arranged as if it were being worn, but clearly empty. Davian shivered as he took in the small black plates, the gapless helmet, the strange symbol engraved where the face would be. He’d seen enough of that image to last a lifetime.

  He stumbled a little as Fessi released her hold on time, shaking his head at the disorienting sensation. He and Ishelle glanced at the other Augur questioningly.

  “I’m all right. Just need a rest in case I have to get us out of here again,” Fessi said weakly.

  Davian nodded; they would have a few minutes until whoever or whatever was coming down the tunnel got close. He stared around the room in fascination. Aside from the armor, there was a chair and a desk against the wall, the lantern hanging over it burning steadily. Papers were strewn across the desk’s surface.

  In the other corner there was a small bed, unmade, and a bookshelf next to it. He frowned at the scene for several seconds and then strode across to the desk, leaning over it curiously to read one of the scattered sheets on it.

  After a moment he beckoned absently at the other two, not taking his eyes from the paper.

  The eletai do not individually display the same intelligence as dar’gaithin or shar’kath, despite their humanoid appearance. Nor do they have the mindless instinct of tek’ryl, or the innate savagery of an al’goriat. They do seem to share the same vision enhancements, though, allowing them to see mostly by Essence rather than natural light—perhaps better explaining their “scent,” as others have described it.

  I also believe that they understand instruction—or at least, the hive does. When I issue an order to one it will often not move, and I am uncertain if it has understood. Later, though, I will discover that another
eletai has completed the task. Whether this eletai was more suited to the job, or closer, or it was simply that creature’s turn to work—I do not know.

  I have also determined that the creatures retain memories, and that some are very old. Today, as I made my regular rounds attempting to communicate, most as usual did not respond to my conversation.

  However one eletai asked me a question. He—or she?—asked after a man called Eradimicius. I had no idea who this was, but I responded that he was well, hoping to provoke further conversation. The eletai seemed relieved, moving on to talk about its role in the war. At first I thought it spoke of the War of Progression, some eight hundred years ago—making it very old. After a few minutes, though, I gleaned that in fact it spoke of Devaed’s First Darecian War, waged almost three thousand years ago. I have cross-referenced its talk of the extraordinary machinery and weaponry which the Darecians brought against the Venerate, and it is the only match I have been able to find. Externally, though, this eletai appeared no different from the rest. Does this indicate a longevity that is for all intents and purposes immortality? Or is it an effect of shared consciousness, maintained long after the original assimilation has died?

  Davian stopped reading as the scraping sound that they had heard before entered his consciousness.

  He glanced across at Fessi, who had been reading along with him, and then turned to find Ishelle.

  His heart skipped a beat as he stared around the room with increasing panic.

  “Where is she?”

  Fessi blinked, then looked around. “I …” She paled. “She was here a moment ago.”

  The other Augur gripped his arm, dragging him silently away from the entrance to the room. They ducked down behind the desk, Fessi keeping her grip, clearly ready to step outside of time at a moment’s notice.

  Davian’s heart pounded, though how much of it was concern for himself and how much concern for Ishelle, he wasn’t sure. Why had she left? Had she had another blackout? The scraping sound grew closer, heavy but constant, thunderous in the silence of the tunnels.

  A few seconds later it stopped, just as it sounded as though it were outside the entrance to the room. Davian held his breath, not daring to move, unwilling even to wipe the beads of sweat that were forming again on his brow.

  A moment passed. Another.

  Then the grinding started again, this time disappearing farther down the tunnel.

  Davian and Fessi didn’t move until the sound had completely faded.

  “What was that?” asked Fessi softly.

  “I think …” Davian grimaced, remembering back to the vision that he’d had several weeks ago. “I think it might have been a dar’gaithin. That sound could have been its scales grinding against the stone. Which would explain the marks that we saw earlier, too.”

  Fessi ran her hands through her hair, and her voice shook a little as she spoke. “What now?”

  Davian did his best to focus, fumbling until he grasped kan again. Back up through the passage, there was nothing for as far as his senses could stretch.

  Downward, though, there was the faintest pulse of Essence. He caught only a glimpse of it, but it was enough; he and Ishelle had trained together too much over the past couple of months for him not to recognize her.

  “The dar’gaithin—or whatever it was—is going in the same direction as Ishelle,” he said grimly. He rubbed his forehead, sighing. “Ready?”

  Fessi blanched but after a moment nodded resolutely, much to Davian’s relief.

  They exited the room silently, following the faint grinding sound as they started after Ishelle.

  Farther into the depths.

  Chapter 44

  Asha stared pensively out over the north-facing wall at the pulsing form of the Boundary, occasionally glancing right to eye the rising sun with an increasing sense of dread.

  Behind her, she sensed Erran as he rejoined her in her vigil. “Still nothing?” the young man asked as he leaned next to her against the outpost’s parapet.

  Asha just shook her head, straining to make out anything moving in the vast emptiness below. Davian and Fessi had gone after Ishelle hours ago; they should have been long back by now, either with the other Augur or to get help.

  “How long do we just wait?” she asked quietly.

  Erran scrubbed at his eyes with the palm of his hand. “The moment we go, Geladra and the other Administrators will try to stop us, regardless of what Torin said.” He shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at the two Administrators standing a little distance away. They’d been watching them for more than an hour now, not trying to hide their suspicion. “They can’t, of course, but that doesn’t mean that our leaving won’t make things more difficult for Torin.”

  Asha nodded grimly. Geladra had argued for a good half hour after Fessi and Davian had vanished from in front of her eyes, and only Wirr’s eventual appearance and intervention had prevented the Administrators from trying to lock Erran and Asha in one of the outpost’s lower cells.

  Despite her friend’s impressively calm assurance in diplomatically dealing with the Administrators, Asha could tell that Wirr was fighting a losing battle to convince his mother of the danger here. Captain Muran’s matter-of-fact explanation of what he had seen since he had arrived, as well as the word of various other soldiers and some of the Gifted stationed at the outpost, had resulted only in dark, suspicious mutterings about Control and the Augurs’ lack of oversight. Asha was beginning to doubt that Geladra could be convinced, without seeing one of Devaed’s Banes with her own eyes.

  Asha sighed, putting Wirr’s mother from her mind for the moment. “You still can’t contact them, I take it?”

  Erran shook his head. “It’s not too surprising. It can be hard over long distances, especially if they’re not actively trying to communicate,” he explained, though he wore a frown as he said the words. “It’s much easier if they’re attempting to make the connection, too. As far as I can tell, they haven’t tried to do that.”

  There was silence for a few seconds and then Asha glanced back toward the Administrators. They were still watching closely, but weren’t close to within hearing range. Even so, she lowered her voice.

  “You need to tell Wirr about what happened. With Elocien.”

  Erran blinked, his entire body tensing as he understood what she was saying. “No.”

  “You can tell him, or I will.” Asha met Erran’s gaze steadily. “I’m sorry, Erran, but he’s my friend. When he didn’t know anything, I thought it was for the best. But I’m not going to lie to him.”

  “He’ll kill me.”

  “He’ll be angry,” Asha conceded grimly, “but I know Wirr. He believes in what we’re all doing here and he knows why you did it, even if he’ll hate it. You may not trust him, but trust me. If you go to him first—if the news comes from you—then it will end up better for everyone.”

  “Even if you’re right, Geladra won’t be so kind.”

  “He would never tell Geladra.” Asha said the words with confidence.

  “Easy for you to say.” Erran fell silent for a moment, clearly considering her words despite his objection. He nodded slowly. “But I suppose they’re not exactly on the same page,” he conceded eventually.

  “Just think about it. It doesn’t have to be right now.” Asha set her shoulders, staring grimly out over the empty plains below. “Davian and Fessi, on the other hand …”

  Erran rubbed his forehead. “Agreed. Just be aware, I’m only able to do small jumps. A couple of minutes of walking at most, if I’m forming a time bubble for both of us. We’ll only get halfway down the path to the bottom before they know we’re gone.”

  Asha shrugged. “It’s not as if they can catch us.”

  Erran flashed a grin, seeming as relieved as Asha to be finally taking some action. He turned to the Administrators, giving them a pleasant smile and nod as he took Asha by the arm in a cheerful, gentlemanly fashion.

  The leaves falling from the trees suddenly
slowed and the Administrators appeared to freeze, half scowling and half confused as they digested Erran’s motion to them. Erran and Asha walked past them, then hurried through the northern gate and started along the steps descending to the plains below.

  As he’d predicted, Erran needed a break about halfway down; as soon as time crashed back into them, Asha could hear shouts of anger emanating from above. She glanced back up the cliff, but there was no movement yet visible. The Administrators knew that they were missing, but hadn’t yet had time to figure out where they had gone.

  The next half hour was a slow one as they made their way gradually toward the Boundary, mostly in two or three minute bursts as Erran altered their passage through time, then rested for a minute in between. Behind them, Asha could see Administrators making their way after them down the cliff, but they were soon little more than dots. Erran’s ability, limited though it was, meant that he and Asha were easily outpacing their pursuers.

  Asha kept scanning the horizon for something—anything—that might indicate where Davian and Fessi had gone, but it was uniformly flat, broken only by the torrent of energy up ahead that took up more and more of her vision as they approached. Erran was silent for the most part, concentrating on getting them there as quickly as possible, but he clearly didn’t see anything of importance, either.

  Eventually they arrived at the very base of the Boundary, Asha rubbing her ears against the uncomfortable, constant thrum. She squinted up in awe at the shimmering, pulsing wall of blue-white energy, difficult to look at directly for too long even in the daylight.

  “No sign of them.” Erran was frowning as he gazed at the wall, too, though he appeared to be focusing on a specific point. “I could have sworn that Fessi was heading this way, but …”

  Asha turned her attention to him. “What is it?” She could hear the worry in his tone.

  “I just …” Erran’s frown deepened. “Davian told you about the door that we found?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well … I thought that this was where it was supposed to be. I was quite certain it was here, actually.”