“You fainted,” Marin let go of my arms with one hand and rubbed his bleary, bloodshot eyes. The other arm remained firmly around my stick skinny waist and held me to him. “I carried you to the cave I found.”
“Cave?” I blinked up at his face, his handsome, familiar face that had grooves of worry etched on his suntanned skin aside his steady green eyes. “What are all these colors? They're making me dizzy.”
Marin's arm tightened the same time his mouth did. Uneasiness crept into his gaze, turning the green of his gaze wary.
“I don't know. I followed the blue lights. They led into an odd cave, to this cavern. It was already pretty warm in here, but you were nearly—” Marin halted and swallowed, looking away.
“Don't say it!” I gasped. “Don't say it, Marin, because I'm not. You saved me, as usual.” My smile trembled on the verge of hysteria, and I caught his tight, pain filled one in response. “Thank you.”
“You can just owe me one,” he teased.
My answering smile faded. I would. I would owe him and gladly pay whatever tithe needed.
The flashing blue lights gave way to yellow, and I grimaced at the shocking brightness. I twisted in Marin's lap, neither ready to admit that's just where I was, nor admit that I didn't feel like leaving just where I was.
The yellow lights flashed steadily from high up on smooth gray walls. Not a crack, nor hammer dent, nor sheen of rust touched the metal. The floor was a smooth gray metal as well, and I quickly noted that there were no other entrances or exits, but the tube like metal tunnel with the lights just to our left. Marin had carried me just inside what he’d called a cave, but out of caution, obviously hadn't strayed further. He had been right to be wary. It was all too shiny, too smooth and perfect.
“What is this place, Marin?” I struggled for a half minute before his arms reluctantly released me. I scrambled to a stand, ignoring the prickly jabs of the circulation returning to my feet. I was grateful just to feel anything at that point.
“It's some sort of cave, but man made.” Marin stood stiffly and spent an awkward moment readjusting the goggles on his forehead. I absently felt for mine, but they weren't atop my head. I'd probably lost them when I'd tripped. Fear prickled just as sharply as my feet. I felt naked without the goggles, especially now that I felt Marin's steady green eyes on me more than on the mysterious cave.
I stumbled to the center of the room, forcing my legs to remember their job. Unlike the smooth, unbroken lines of the walls and floor, the ceiling that towered twenty feet above us was different. A giant circle was carved into the too shiny metal, and then bisected by lines, cutting the circle into four wedges.
“What is it?” Marin appeared at my elbow.
I got the impression that his hovering hands were there to catch me in case I fell again. “I don't know, the ceiling is carved, but nothing else is. Odd.” I spun in the short circle, forgetting that my crazy hair was now loose. It fanned out and thwacked Marin in the eye. My apologetic smile was returned by a look that said, I know, it's okay.
But, dear Moon Gods, was it okay? What was going on?
“Let's get some sleep, Callia. We have a long hike in the morning, you know.” Marin's shoulders sagged as if Atlas' weight had fallen to him. The thought twitched my mouth. Atlas was the Earth God who held up our world. If he fell, we'd fall.
Oh, Gods, why did I feel the world tipping?
We curled up in the darkest corner we could find in an attempt to escape the nonstop flashing yellow lights. The air was stuffy and smelled like metal mixed with lightning. My nose twitched, and I shifted on the hard metal floor.
“What do you suppose this place is, Marin?” my voice broke the stuffy silence.
Marin shifted beside me until we were huddled shoulder to shoulder. I let my head drop to his chest and shut my eyes against the blaring lights while he seemed to mull over an answer.
“To be honest, I'm not sure. This is far too new, too shiny to be a part of Sky Harbour, Callia.”
Silently, I agreed with him. At best, Sky Harbour was a patchwork of rusted metal and ill-fitting boards, of creaking gears and cracked cobblestones. It was old, very old, and falling apart at the seams. It hadn't helped much that, over the years, the various repair crews had fallen behind, had abandoned some projects for others, or had not even bothered to try. The only thing they regularly kept atop was the great old clock, and even it had seen far better days.
“Maybe it's a storage room?” I offered with a shrug. It was a terrible feeling not knowing things. I felt it, so did Marin, judging from the slump of his broad shoulders and his still silence.
“Maybe,” he finally mumbled.
“How far did you carry me?” I swallowed and tried to ignore my burning cheeks. The question was awkward at best, but the Mapmaker side of me needed to know, to judge distance relative to our mountain. To remind myself that I wasn't naïve and stupid.
“I don't know, another mile?” Marin exhaled, and thankfully didn't seem to notice my crimson face.
Oh, I was grateful, believe me. But something about being helpless was painful.
“Let's get some sleep, okay? I'm tired, Callia.”
I blinked and stiffened at the sharp, final edge to his voice. He didn't want to talk about it anymore, fine. I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my face against my legs, letting my hair fall around me like a living shield. In the darkened space, hidden from the annoying magic lights, I did begin to feel the same weariness that had dragged Marin into such despair.
An arm draped over me and folded me close to his side in silence. I smiled behind my hair and let my eyes close as the heavy warmth of Marin's arms wove comfort and safety into my mind.
Something shivered all around and ripped me from the floating darkness of sleep so abruptly that a cry left my lips before I could stop it. Marin's broad hand flattened over my mouth, cutting off the guttural cry that had torn from me in shock.
“Quiet! Something's happening.”
Marin stared down at me, wide eyed, until I recognized him and relaxed. I blinked, and my eyelashes grazed his hand as he warily released me.
“The whole room is shaking, or vibrating, I think.”
It was, and with it came a high-pitched buzz or whine that I couldn't place its origins. Marin's head tilted as he listened, and he pressed his bare palm to the wildly vibrating floor. I could feel the motion through my clothes, and it was making my butt just a bit numb. I shifted to my knees and fought the urge to lean against Marin.
“This isn't right, Marin. We need to get out of here.” The uneasiness that had kept us both tense washed over me in a surge.
Marin must have felt it too because he stumbled to his feet. “Come on, let's go,” he hissed and grabbed my arm before I could reply. He tugged me from the corner, and we ducked to the left where the tunnel had gaped in blue and yellow flashing darkness.
Instead of crazy lights and cold air, we slammed into a solid wall that hadn't been there just minutes before. My right knee cracked on cold metal, and I stumbled back with a gasp. Marin collided with the wall shoulder first, and he bounced backwards hard enough to fall to the floor.
“Marin!” I limped the few steps to him and bent to help him up. My knee both stung and throbbed, but I refused to look at it. There were more important things than it right—like vanishing tunnels and shaking rooms of metal. “Where is it? What's happening?”
Marin stared at the tunnel-less wall with steely green eyes that should have burned holes through the metal. His face twisted into one of puzzled anger and he spun and paced to the center of the large room.
There was nothing in the room. No objects, and no movement, other than the fine, high-pitched vibrations.
“I think we're locked in, Marin,” I spun and limped to another wall. I slammed my hands against the shiny metal and beat on it ineffectively. It only gave my pinkie a bruise to match my knee. “We need to get out of here.”
“Don't panic, stop!” Marin cried o
ut.
I stopped to look at him. In the clashing yellow and blue lights, his face was pale, his eyebrows tight.
“Maybe there is a handle or crank to open it. Like your door.”
“What handle? There are no gears here, Marin!” I flung my aching hands outward and gestured to the room at large. It was bare, smooth, clean, and humming with a teeth-grinding energy.
Marin's eyes flashed with fury for a split second before fading into the usual serene green. Seeing him nearing the edge of reason was just enough to send me straight over.
“Help! Help! We're trapped in here!” My screams and bangs echoed over the incessant vibrations. I hated that jittery feeling. I hated that sound.
Warm, firm hands encased my fisted fingers just as I was about to punch the metal wall. I brought myself up short at the last minute, horrified, and sent both Marin and I stumbling to the floor in a tangle of arms, hair, and tears.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” I sniffed and dragged my arms around his neck and held on.
He held me tightly, silently, as I cried out my terror.
The whining vibrations stopped so abruptly that we sprang apart.
“What now?” I swallowed and twisted to see if the tunnel had reappeared. It hadn't, and Marin and I exchanged half-puzzled, half-horrified looks. We stood, bleary eyed and shaky when a sleek, rushing hiss filled the room in its place. The entire room jerked as if hit from outside by a giant's fist and sent us reeling backwards into the cold wall. I grimaced. Now my hip matched my hands and knee.
“We need to hide, something's coming, I think.” Marin's voice was quiet, serious.
I nodded mutely, but froze as the swishing hiss erupted from far above us.
“Duck!” Marin shoved me to the floor and curled his lanky body around me.
Terror dragged a pathetic whimper from my lips, and Marin's arms tightened even more.
From our huddle, I could just see the rest of the room. I forced my eyes to look up, to where the hissing had come from.
“Marin!” I forced my mouth to move, my lungs to work. Marin shifted, and together, we cautiously twisted to look.
The circular pattern in the ceiling moved, breaking apart at the intersecting lines crossing the circle and sliding the four wedges back like monstrous iron claws. It widened further and further, hissing smoothly, until the four sharp wedges began to slip into the circles and vanish.
The last sharp angle vanished, leaving a giant, shimmering, smooth, vertical tunnel.
What in the—?
Before I could open my big mouth to ask, vivid blue light exploded from the gaping hole and filled the entire room. We curled in on ourselves by pure instinct, and within our gasping, terrified huddle, the blue light washed the entire room with a sleek, silvery hum. I slammed my eyes shut and choked on a cry that wanted to loose itself from my raw throat. My heart might as well have been beating itself against the smooth metal walls as well.
The blue aura and shivering hum vanished, and Marin peeled away from me just enough for us to see. The blue blast of light was gone, and the claw-like wedges were slipping back into the center of the circle in near silence, the humming and vibrations no longer so powerful.
“What just happened, Marin?” I dragged my eyes from the closing hole and froze, my mouth still wide to ask more stupid questions. Marin had already seen it, he'd frozen in silent shock, eyes wide and face washed white.
It was a train. Kind of.
Wordlessly, we moved closer to the hulking object, still too shocked to voice the words that we both wanted to say. How in the gods’ names did and entire train come through that blue lit vertical tunnel?
We halted beside it, no longer able to help ourselves. It was unlike anything I'd seen before, unlike what the Sky Train was supposed to be.
It was made of the same silvery metal as the room, and in the flashing yellow lights, it gleamed as if polished for months by a thousand hands. It filled the entire length of the room. We’d been lucky to have been out of the thing’s way when it landed.
“It's a train,” Marin whispered in the now oddly still room. No hum or vibrations emanated from the odd object either. “But it's so smooth and rounded, not like—”
“—The Sky Train,” I finished his whisper with a gasp and reached out my hand to feel the oddly shiny and sleek metal.
Marin twitched, half moved to tug my hand back, but clenched his jaw and backed off. I smiled up at him, grateful. He knew that the unknown was mine, my goal to make known as a Mapper, and, oh, the sleek machine was beautiful.
I pressed my hand to the lustrous metal and gasped. It did vibrate, but so softly that only my firmly pressed palm could feel it. It wasn't cold either, as I expected metal to be, but then had anything happened lately that was expected?
Marin's hand smoothed over the glossy curve, and he trailed his fingers down the length with narrowed, judging eyes. I knew that he was assessing it as if it were a boat. As far as we knew, it could be.
It had no bumps, no wires, no gears, no ridges, no holes, no knobs, and no handles. In fact, it would have seemed like a completely solid, ovalish, rectangular, unmovable object, but for the hum of energy that it faintly exuded. I tilted my head to see if it had wheels. No, it didn't! The shiny metal skin shifted and rippled as the flashing lights glanced off its mirrored surface. For a split second, I could see through the massive object, see inside it, and out the far side. The vision was warped, like seeing through a broken jar.
I stumbled back with a cry, and Marin grabbed my arms, forcing my disbelieving eyes to his.
“Callia! What happened! Are you hurt?” Marin's voice croaked with worry.
I felt bad for tightening his eyebrows and mouth so. I shook my head sharply and raked my own eyes with a springy brown curl. I flung it aside in disgust and stared at the great machine in waking awe.
“Marin, I saw through it. For a moment, it was as if it was invisible!”
“How is that possible?” He bent until his eyes were nearly touching the sheer metal skin of the train-like machine and squinted. The metal shimmered slightly, almost a flicker of static electricity, and he jumped back with a soft cry.
“I see what you mean. If you tilt your head just so, you can see into it! There are boxes inside, but they are metal too, not wood, and big.” Marin blinked and focused on seeing through the hull.
I skated the edge of the massive oval shaped machine, and stopped at the rounded, silvery front. It was vaguely pointed, like a spear, but rounder, smoother, and like the sides, flickered with a constant static that gave flashes of invisibility to it.
An icy breeze tugged on my hair, and I shivered. I turned to look for the source of the breeze and gasped.
The entire wall of the metal cave was gone, leaving a wide rectangular window to the outside world. Far below, tree tops shook and leaves rattled in the wind, and the sun hung low on the horizon, just a mere crescent of yellow that puddled over the churning sea. The sky was dark, clouded, no stars or moon lit the island, but I could clearly see train tracks swoop from the giant opening, straight down, then abruptly coming to an end where the nearest pillars would swivel its track to meet it.
Speechless, I reached for something to hold on to, something solid and unwavering in a world suddenly gone upside down. My palm grazed the vibrating, steely machine and lightning crackled like static between my fingers and the metal skin.
“Ouch!” I gasped and jerked my hand back. It stung, my whole hand almost numbed by the massive field of static that was forking and branching in tiny lightning storms all over the giant machine.
“What's going on?” Marin appeared beside me, far too pale as he studied the darkening landscape far below our bizarre perch. The wind tangled our hair into the air and the crackle of static grew louder behind us.
“How long have we been in here, Marin?” I eyed the sinking sun, my heart jerking unsteadily in my chest.
“Not long enough for another day to have gone by, for sure,” Ma
rin breathed the words, thin and raspy as disbelief and shock fought to be the dominant expression on his face. Behind us, the static vibrations grew steadily louder, but we paid them no heed. Time had somehow escaped us, or we it.
“Let's go while we can, hurry!” I darted toward the opening and had one foot atop a smooth, untarnished metal track before Marin could reach me. I managed five steps before the sun vanished entirely, and darkness hit us like a ton of rocks. I wobbled, unbalanced, suddenly unable to see my own feet atop the narrow rails. Marin's bellowing made me freeze and twist carefully to see him also perched atop the first cross rail, his face deadly pale in the flashing yellow and blue lights behind him.
“Callia, wait!”
“It's not that far down from here to the ground, we can jump, I think,” I bellowed over my shoulder over, then a screaming crackle of static emanating from the train-machine. I turned on wobbly feet and stepped onto another cross rail.
Bong!
Bong!
My scream drowned out the resonant, guttural clock strikes. The entire track shook and trembled beneath me. My arms cartwheeled but found nothing to grab as my right foot dropped between the slats of the rail, and I catapulted forward.
Marin's hand snagged my shirt by the collar, and together, we tumbled to our knees on the sharp metal railing. My leg burned with pain as it jerked and twisted between the slats, stuck.
Bong!
Bong!
“Here, let me!” Marin screamed over the thunderous gongs that cracked with an ungodly rumble off the sheer mountainsides around us. His hands dug between the narrow slats and tugged on my right leg. It skidded free an inch at a time, scraping skin within the trousers against sharp metal as it moved. The pain of the scrapes joined the throbbing ache of falling on it in the first place, and I bit my lip until I tasted copper.
Bong!
Bong!
“Got it! Can you walk back to the cave?” Marin tugged the leg of my trousers up high enough to peer at the raw scrapes in the flashes of yellow and blue lights. I grunted, not able to trust myself to speak without breaking down. Tears were for the weak.
Cogs in Time Volume Three (The Steamworks Series Book 3) Page 11