An Echo of Things to Come

by James Islington

  “As long as the Boundary is still holding, we’re waiting until I hear from Erran,” said Asha firmly, a phrase that she had repeated more than once over the past several hours.

  Scyner sighed, still staring out over the water. “Your friend, the prince. He is part of the defenses, at least?”

  Asha blinked, surprised by the shift in conversation.

  “He is,” she said slowly.

  “Good.” Scyner continued to gaze northward. “And he brought the Gifted with him?”

  “There are some Gifted at the outposts,” Asha said slowly. She hesitated. “Not enough, though.”

  Scyner scowled at that, and Asha watched him for a long few moments.

  “You’re Jakarris, aren’t you?” she said quietly, statement more than question.

  The Augur paused, for the first time since she had arrived looking taken aback.

  “It’s Scyner now. I left the name Jakarris behind long ago,” he eventually said softly. To Asha’s surprise, there was a note of regret in his voice.

  “So you knew what Torin would be able to do with the Oathstone.”

  Scyner gave her a mildly irritated look. “Of course I did. Even if we prevent the Boundary from falling here, Andarra is eventually going to need someone to coordinate its defenses. Someone who doesn’t have to worry about all the ridiculous politics that have plagued the Gifted since … well, since even before my time.” He shook his head ruefully. “He needs to actually use his ability for it to be of any worth, though.”

  Asha frowned at him.

  “When we met in the Sanctuary, and you sent me to find out what Elocien was doing …”

  Scyner snorted. “I foresaw Elocien Andras’s son using Essence more than twenty-five years ago, Ashalia. So yes. I already knew.” He shrugged wearily at her expression. “Getting the Vessels was a priority, but so was finding out what the duke knew about his son’s whereabouts. We were … concerned, when Prince Torin disappeared. To be honest, Ashalia, I understood the importance of his role far more than I did yours at that point. I wondered about you, of course—your surviving the attack at Caladel, and then Aelrith’s decision not to kill you. But at the time, you were mostly a convenient means to an end.”

  Asha shook her head at that, not knowing what to say. Every time she learned something new about what was going on, it felt more and more like she was just a piece being shifted around a game board.

  There was silence for a while after that. It was midday and while the sun beat down, the stiff and constant sea breeze more than removed any warmth that it held; Asha rubbed at her arms absently, lost in thought as she gazed out over the precipice at the curtain of energy.

  Was Davian still trapped in there? She hated the indecision that that question pressed upon her. Deep down, she knew that Scyner was probably right: the sooner the Boundary was reinforced, the safer that everyone would be. But if she was going to sacrifice herself for the indefinite future—years, perhaps—then she couldn’t do it without at least giving Davian a chance. She had to trust that Erran would let her know when things became too dire to hold off any longer.

  And a part of her—a very small part—still hoped for a way out, too. That they would find another way.

  She stared down at the waves, the troughs seeming darker as the wind at ground level evidently started to pick up.

  Then her brow furrowed and she leaned forward, focusing.

  “Scyner,” she said quietly, tone urgent.

  Scyner glanced at her, then walked over and followed her gaze down to the water below. After a few moments, he grunted.

  “Wait here,” he muttered. “If they look like they’re going to break through, you use that fates-cursed machine—no matter what. They won’t be able to stop it once it’s activated.”

  He vanished.

  Asha watched worriedly as more dark shapes joined the ones that she’d spotted in the water, visible almost as far out as the Boundary, arrowing with alarming speed toward the beach. They looked small enough, but she knew that was only due to the distance. For her to be able to see the creatures from here—and underwater, at that—then they had to be big. Bigger than a full-grown man, at least.

  From her vantage point she could see the beach where she and Erran had arrived, the bridge no longer there but the pillars that marked its beginning still visible. Her heart lurched as glistening monsters started slithering out of the water and onto the golden sand, moving quickly toward the trees.

  Closer by, several Shadows were running through the black-scarred area that she and Erran had traversed last night and moving into the forest, while others hurried to take up defensive positions among the buildings nearer to the base of the cliff. She spotted Scyner striding around, pointing urgently, directing the Shadows to various points that were clearly intended to defend the path up the cliff. Everyone moved with alacrity and purpose and though it was impossible to tell for sure from this distance, there didn’t appear to be any panic in the Shadows’ ranks.

  She flinched as the far edges of the forest suddenly sprouted gouts of flame outward onto the beach and into the oncoming mass of dark, crawling shapes, the sound of explosions reaching her ears a moment later. The Shadows controlling the fire-throwing Vessels didn’t need to aim; they clearly had enough to cover a wide swathe of land.

  Still, even as distant, high-pitched shrieks filled her ears and some of the black shapes stilled, others were making it through to the tree line.

  One by one, the gouts of fire faded.

  Asha watched in horror as more and more of the creatures slithered up from the water, moving at an uncomfortably quick pace over the open ground and vanishing into the trees. There were bursts of light from within the greenery and many of the trees began to burn, but after a while some of the Shadows—far fewer than had initially run into the forest—stumbled out toward the village, waving their hands desperately at their comrades.

  “You need to do it now.”

  Asha started at the gasping voice behind her. She turned to see Scyner, the left arm of his shirt gone, blackened edges indicating that it had burned off. His hands were on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

  “They need help.” Asha didn’t take her eyes from the scene below. “They’ll die.”

  “Then they’ll die.” Scyner looked her in the eye. “The vast majority of your power comes from the Lyth now. Once you’re in the Tributary and its defenses activate, it won’t matter what happens to them. I’m sorry, but there’s just no time.”

  Asha watched the chaos below, heart pounding. She didn’t need to trust Scyner to know that he was right. The defense of the Shadows was turning to panic as they began to realize that they were about to be overrun.

  She stood and twisted, looking into the murk of the pavilion at the glinting steel of the Tributary. Felt cautiously at the power flooding through her veins, begging to be released.

  Then she scowled, turning back and nodding toward the village. “I’m going down there.”

  “No.”

  Scyner’s expression told Asha all that she needed to know. His patience had run out.

  Asha closed her eyes, focused on Scyner’s pool of Essence, and drained him just as the man vanished.

  A moment later the Augur appeared again halfway toward her, eyes wide and skin pale as he collapsed to the ground, a look of utter shock on his face.

  “Forgot that I could do that, didn’t you,” murmured Asha coldly, stepping over his prostrate form as he slipped into unconsciousness. She’d made certain earlier to check that Scyner was truly a Shadow, and with the two of them the only ones on the plateau, it had been easy enough to isolate his Essence. Asha knew that he wouldn’t be out for long—she’d been careful not to take too much from him—but it would be enough.

  She hurried to the top of the path down the cliff, flinching at every new explosion, the sounds of screaming and panicked yells becoming more and more audible. There were still sporadic bursts of fire and energy directe
d into the forest, but they were becoming less frequent, and she could sense that the Reserves of the Shadows around her were running low. Even going downhill, there was no way that she could reach the base of the mountain in time to help.

  “Time to see how strong I really am,” she muttered to herself.

  She tapped Essence.

  The torrent of energy suddenly at her command was almost too much; she flailed for a second and then funnelled some—a tiny drop of her Reserve—into her body. Strengthened her arms. Legs. Torso.

  Everything.

  She leaped.

  She shrieked with a mixture of alarm and delight as the jump took her much, much higher and farther than she’d anticipated; after several terrifying, exhilarating seconds she finally landed—thankfully back on the steps—accompanied by the sharp shattering of stone beneath her feet.

  She paused for a moment, breathing hard, though more from thrill than effort. There had been a slight jarring sensation, but the impact hadn’t otherwise hurt, almost making her wonder whether the three-foot-wide crater in which she now stood had already been there.

  She glanced over her shoulder, wide-eyed.

  She’d covered half the distance down in a single jump.

  The excitement that Asha felt quickly faded as more yells from below reached her ears, and she saw that the tek’ryl were at the edge of the forest now, close to overwhelming the Shadows. She picked an empty point in the middle of the village and leaped again, hurtling to the ground in a dizzying streak of speed and bright-white light.

  Staggering only a little on impact, she hurried toward the forest, soon coming up behind the terrified-looking Shadows. Shana, she quickly spotted, was amongst them; despite the determined look in her eyes, the woman’s entire left arm was blistered and red.

  Asha grabbed her good arm, commanding her attention. “Is there anyone left out there?”

  Shana’s eyes widened as she registered who was talking to her. “What in fates are you doing down here?” she said between gritted teeth. “You need to get back up there!”

  “Is there anyone else in the forest?” Asha repeated calmly.

  Shana hesitated. “There might be.” Her voice was thick with worry and pain.

  Asha gave a single nod of acknowledgment, then strengthened her body with Essence again and pushed herself forward.

  The village blurred away as she covered the ground between it and the edge of the forest in a single leap, skidding to a halt as she approached the first of the close-set trees and leaving a long furrow in the dirt as she did so. Fires starkly lit some sections here, while the rest remained gloomily shaded by both smoke and the thick leafy canopy overhead. Shadows twisted and flinched everywhere, and in the distance, she could hear a chorus of desperate shouts.

  She was about to leap in the direction of the noise when an alien, chittering sound to her left made her spin.

  Her heart lurched.

  The tek’ryl was enormous, much bigger than anything she had envisaged. Its glistening black scales still dripped with sea water as it stared at her with dead, entirely red eyes, elongated pincers bigger than broadswords snapping menacingly either side of its unsettling gaze. It was only ten feet away; a barbed tail was suddenly curled over its head, poised and quivering, ready to strike.

  It rushed forward at her, all muscle and scales and horror.

  Asha flicked Essence at it.

  There was a blinding burst of light; much of the energy was absorbed by the tek’ryl’s armor but the rest caught the small, unprotected areas of its body with full force. The creature launched into the air, smashing clean through tree trunks as it spun and flailed helplessly, reaching as high as the treetops before crashing back down a good fifty feet away into the middle of one of the dying fires, motionless once it came to an ungainly halt. Even through the debris, Asha could see that its legs were mangled, its head entirely caved in from multiple violent impacts.

  She stood stock-still for a moment, shocked, staring with a combination of astonishment and relief.

  “All right,” she muttered to herself, a little dazedly.

  Another pleading shout reached her ears, and she pushed herself into action again.

  The next few minutes passed in a blur of motion as she sped among the trees with increasing assurance, hurling tek’ryl away from Shadows as they desperately retreated, healing those who had been injured and ushering everyone that she could find back toward the relative safety of the village. Despite the danger, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill, an exhilaration as she dashed through the wild, burning chaos of the forest. The tek’ryl were nothing to be feared—not for her. Today, she was a fury of light and power and speed.

  Today, she was unstoppable.

  Finally, though, there were no more shouts, no more panicked calls for help. Asha tossed aside a few more tek’ryl—they seemed to keep on coming, no matter how many she dispatched—and pushed herself forward once again, motions more confident now as she leaped her way back to the village.

  The surviving Shadows had gathered in a crowd, murmuring among themselves. Silence quickly fell and they watched on with wide eyes as Asha skidded to a halt in front of them.

  “Is everyone safe?” Asha asked Shana, a little breathlessly.

  Shana just nodded, staring at Asha. “Anyone still out there is dead,” she said softly. “But most made it back. Thanks to you.”

  Asha inclined her head and opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly more flashes of fire erupted from the front line of the buildings. She turned, grimacing at the sight of a new wave of tek’ryl scuttling out from the trees.

  A low moan passed through the assembled Shadows. For each tek’ryl burned by the defenses, two more now took its place.

  “We can’t stop them,” said Shana, the horror and despair in her tone echoed in the frightened murmurings of the others.

  Asha ignored the statement and stepped forward, motioning for the defending Shadows to stand down as she moved in front of them. Still more tek’ryl were breaking from the forest, a sea of the unsettling scorpion-like monsters scuttling with chilling speed toward her and the Shadows.

  Taking a deep breath, Asha once again tapped the immense power within her. Focused it, this time.

  Pushed it outward all at once.

  A blinding white blast of energy erupted from her hands, expanding into a massive wave of power that swept inexorably forward.

  Everything it touched simply … disintegrated. Trees were reduced to ash that whipped around on the thunderous gust of wind that accompanied the wave; rocks liquefied to glowing red and sand turned to glass.

  There were no audible shrieks, no evidence that the monsters had been caught in the blast. But when the air cleared, only a mile of flat, molten rock and ash lay between them and the now-bubbling, frothing ocean.

  Then there was silence. No more screams of panic from the Shadows. No more shouts of command from anyone.

  Asha turned to see that everyone behind her had stopped.

  They were all just watching her, wide-eyed.

  Asha felt a chill as she turned back to look at her handiwork. The ocean in the distance bubbled and steamed, and now several badly disfigured black bodies began floating to the surface, along with countless fish and other sea life. Boiled alive. It was more devastating than anything she’d seen before, more devastating than all the power of all of the Shadows that had been unleashed at the Shields two months ago.

  But this still hadn’t drained her.

  This hadn’t been an iota of her power.

  She turned to Shana, who cringed beneath her gaze. The other woman didn’t look afraid, exactly. More … intimidated. Still, Asha flushed a little at her reaction.

  “I’m going back up there now. I’ll use the Tributary,” she said grimly. “But you don’t need to stay here once I do. It has its own defenses.”

  Shana hesitated, then shook her head.

  “I’ll ask the others,” she said quietly. “But this is st
ill more than we have elsewhere. We have a purpose, here. A home.”

  Asha grimaced, but inclined her head. She didn’t have the time or desire to argue.

  She ignored the lingering, awed stares of the Shadows and made her way slowly back up the cliff, just walking this time, the hundreds of eyes on her back like a physical weight as she made the long climb. Finally reaching the top, she moved past Scyner’s still-prostrate form, every muscle tensing as she stepped into the darkness of the pavilion.

  She swallowed as she approached the Tributary, eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light. It looked more menacing than ever, angular steel and black polished surfaces everywhere. Inside, she could see the tiny holes where she knew the needles would emerge, piercing her skin and forcing her body to draw on Essence to heal.

  Slowly, reluctantly, she stepped inside. Turned to face the pavilion entrance.

  Asha.

  Asha flinched, then held her breath.

  Erran? The voice in her head had been faint, but she recognized it.

  I’ve made contact. They’re in Talan Gol like we thought, but they’re on their way back. They think that as long as the Boundary is still weak, they might be able to get through. A pause. But … they’re only just ahead of a massive army, apparently. So you need to get ready. Sorry.

  Asha took a deep breath. Not good news, exactly—but Davian was alive. That was more than just something.

  Tell me when.

  I’ll do better than that. I can bring Davian into the conversation. Another pause. In fact, I think … I think I can show you exactly what’s happening here. Wait a moment.

  There was nothing for several seconds, and then Asha gasped.

  A heartbeat ago she’d been staring grimly outward from the Tributary.

  Now … now she was at the Boundary.

  It was the strangest sensation: she could still move her limbs but they had no effect on what she was seeing. She had no ability to direct her vision. But she was there, standing exactly where Erran stood, watching as the clearly weakening wall of energy shimmered and faded and flexed.

  And beyond, through the increasingly translucent curtain, she could see three distant figures hurrying toward her.