by S. K. Holder
Connor lifted up the flap of his bag and showed Luke the Kherrin Mawk. ‘I was hoping I could keep it.’ Police or no police. ‘It doesn’t make a lot of noise.’
The creature had closed its eyes. Its tongue hung from its mouth. Luke peered at it, grinning. ‘It’s not the cutest, is it? What if mum sees it? She’ll freak.’
‘She won’t see it. I’ll keep it in my room out of sight.’ Connor lowered the bag flap. He drew his brother’s right hand towards him. They shared the same Status Mark. He searched Luke’s face. ‘We are going back home to London, aren’t we?’
Luke dipped his eyebrows. ‘Where else would we go? We can’t stay here. I’ve been in Baruch for over a week. Those people you saw me with are the ones who found me. I told them what had happened like a thousand times. I think I drove them nuts. They took me to the Shardner and introduced me to Osaphar. They said they were going to send out a search party to look for you, but they were taking too long about it, so I kind of organised one of my own. When I couldn’t find you in Undren, I returned to Baruch. One of the guards told me, you’d been taken to the Royal Halls, but by the time I got there, you’d gone.’ Luke stalked to the window, rubbing his temples. ‘I just want us to get out of here. Osaphar reckons he can get us home. He knows we don’t belong here.’
If we can trust him, thought Connor. ‘What about the battle?’
Luke continued to stare out of the window. ‘Looks like it’s about to come to an end.’
Connor joined him at the window. He saw a great jagged crack in the smoke-filled sky. The edges of the crack were tinged purple. He was looking at the rift. Hundreds of silver birds appeared to descend from it.
‘Those are Citizen spacecraft.’ He pointed at the silver birds. ‘They outnumber everything and everyone else.’
‘Do you think there’s a rift like this on Earth?’
‘Let’s hope not.’ Luke tore his gaze away from the window. ‘I’m going to speak with Osaphar and the others, find out when we can leave. Wait here.’
‘Can’t I come with you?’
‘I can’t risk you going missing again. I’ll only be five minutes. You should get some rest.’ He departed without closing the door after him.
Connor removed his armour and lay down on the bed, holding his bag to his chest. The Kherrin Mawk crawled out and licked his chin. ‘He doesn’t want to talk about it,’ he told the creature. ‘He wants to forget this ever happened. How can you forget?’
‘By going to sleep,’ said the Authoritative Voice.
Connor yawned. He supposed he could shut his eyes for five minutes. His eyelids fluttered shut. His head dropped to one side. His legs went as limp as seaweed. A shaft of narrow light broke through the tower window and evolved into a blaze of blue, orange and yellow swirling colour beneath his closed lids. Shapes danced dart-quick before his eyes.
The World of Dreams beckoned him. The colours dazzled him, sucking him in. A blue light appeared. It transformed into a keyhole. Connor’s eye became the ‘key’, flushing the blue away to reveal an unmarked dusty red road, the sides of which were shrouded in darkness. He used all his concentration to nudge it away. Like a canvas, being unveiled, it emerged first from the left and then from the right. Connor could not contain himself any longer, like a vessel on the verge of shattering, he could feel himself being dragged upward and onwards. His body was heavy at first, and then it became light, so light, he felt as if he were a speck of sand blowing in the wind, floating somewhere between exhilaration and despair.
FORTY-TWO
Hidden in the brush of the rocky hill, outside the western city wall, lies the Optic Crater. It is nothing more than a hole in the ground. The ‘pupil’ of the Optic Crater is a rough-edged boulder and its ‘iris’, gorges of skinny channels that run into its centre…
Skelos Dorm hoisted the boulder to unearth an underground passage, which delivered a strong draught. There were no stairs, only a meandering pitted slope coated in silt mud. He let the boulder drop off-centre as he climbed through the hole. He still required ventilation and light from the murky sky.
The passage, though wide, was steep and slippery. Tiny orange-green lizards dashed up and down the ramps. Skelos reached the end of the slope and hastened down a stone passageway. The ground became dry and even, and free of lava and dust.
He gave the cave a swift check. He was satisfied to find it inconspicuous and empty. The Invisibility potion Amelia had given him had worn off, but he didn’t need it here and he had plenty more.
So the Traceless knew his name. He shrugged off any concerns he had about them stealing his soul. He wasn’t sure he had one. With the Summoning Spell, he would bring the boy to him and take the Shard. He was a Citizen about to be reborn into an even greater one. He would have everyone under his control. There were Other Worlds to conquer, Other Worlds where he could be both Emperor and President. He could hitch a ride on the next spacecraft to land. He would travel to Prascar, where the population was civilised and the air pleasant. From there, he would build his empire and unleash his power upon the entire galaxy.
The Traceless would be slow to realise they had been deceived. An hour wasn’t enough time to travel to Callawly Castle in search of the ‘Makers Map’, but it was sufficient time to take what he needed for himself and escape.
The Summoning Spell required a vial of ground crystals and a few lines of ancient incantation. All very simple. The spell would allow him to summon one of his own race, only once. He was confident he could talk the young Citizen into handing the Shard over. The boy was scared and weak. However, he had to consider his options, just in case. He didn’t want to hurt the boy, but if he had to resort underhanded means, he would. It was prudent that he was prepared, that there was no delay in obtaining the last Shard and putting it to work.
He quickly positioned the Avu’lore globe on a stone pedestal. Once the two Shards were in place, the Avu’lore started to glow. Skelos observed it, mesmerised. The colours wove and spun within the globe. They transformed the cave walls into a medley of vibrant streams and hues. The Maker had given him something more precious than he could have imagined. So what if he had stolen it from the One in the White Robe? It was only right that he should have it, after the suffering he had endured at the hands of his so-called ‘fellow Citizens’. After the humiliation.
It irked him to know that he was leaving behind so many unanswered questions. He didn’t like the idea of abandoning Amelia. She knew all his secrets. What if she succumbed to Osaphar’s interrogation and blabbed? How many pretty dresses would it take for her to forget her master and seek a new one? And then there was the matter of the boy? What was he doing in Narrigh of all places? It was a mystery he would gladly like to have solved.
For the moment, his mind raced with a multitude of things that could go wrong if he waylaid his quest. What if there were beings whose minds he couldn’t control? Ones that simply dropped dead before he could issue a command. There was also a battle raging above his head. Something or someone could kill him the second he popped his head above ground. Invisibility didn’t make you invincible.
He supposed his timing could have been better. The prospect of going wherever he pleased excited him and the prospect of power excited him even more. There will be no one to answer to and no consequences. He refocused on the matter at hand, laid his hands gently on top of the Shards, and took a deep breath.
He became engrossed with watching the bright swirling colours within the globe. He felt a cold gust of wind at his back. He scratched his ear. He whipped his head around. There was no one there. He smiled and wiped his brow. The hour was not up. He would have a well-deserved nap on the flight to his new home. For now, he had to shake it off, stay focused.
He looked back at the Avu’lore. Odd? One of the Shards was missing. He frowned. Could it have fallen out or simply melted away?
He heard a loud screech coming from the upper surface. He cursed to himself. A lizard must have knocked it out. He scanned th
e cave floor. The ground was soft and yet he hadn’t heard it drop. And if a lizard had taken it, he would have heard it, seen it. He heard another screech from outside the cave walls. ‘Who are you?’ he shouted. He rifled for his Binding Dust. ‘If this is the Traceless, I’m working on it. I’m doing as you ask. We’ve got plenty of time.’ How would they know what I’m doing?
He watched the second Shard fly from the slot in the Avu’lore globe and roll to the ground, reverting to its rod shape. The colours died within the globe and faded from the walls. Skelos dashed after the Shard. It rolled into a crack set between two rocks. He plucked it up and shoved in his pocket. Now where was the other one?
To his alarm, the globe began to roll across the pedestal. Skelos grabbed it in time. He hadn’t tested its durability and had a nasty image of it smashing into the rock and exploding in a ball of yellow flame. He placed the globe inside his bag. He discovered the other Shard in the recess of the cave wall opposite him. He slipped it into his pocket and exhaled sharply.
Something stood on the hem of his robe. He screamed and shot upright. He was under attack. The unseen thing leapt onto his back. An unseen hand smothered his face.
‘Stop this!’ He screeched. The hand was hot and felt almost human. A knee went into his spine. He arched his back, trying to escape it.
‘What are you doing Skelos? I thought we had a deal.’
Skelos shook his head and tried to speak with his mind. ‘You have me confused with someone else.’
‘I don’t think so. What is it you’ve got there?’
He should have known the power of the Avu’lore would be lost on the Traceless. They were soulless beings, whose minds often converged into one. The Avu’lore won’t let me control them. At least I won’t be burdened with the added side effect of having them read my mind.
He stood to attention. He was the one in control here, not them. ‘You gave me one hour. When I’m finished going about my own personal business, I’ll set about dealing with yours. I’m a Citizen of my word.’
‘You think you have enough time to find all the paintings within the castle?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Not even with the Shardner’s army on your tail? They’re looking all over Baruch for you, like a pack of dogs in search of a wolf. You’re a wanted Citizen Dorm.’
‘I should think so. If the Shardner are hunting me so relentlessly, perhaps you should get someone else to find your map or better still cause a diversion to give me enough time to get away.’ He peered up through the eye-shaped hole where the boulder had lain. A loud roar descended from the hole followed by a rush of air that made Skelos’s hair stand on end and his robes swirl around his ankles.
‘We made a deal Skelos Dorm.’ The Traceless hissed in his ear.
‘Yes and I shall honour it.’ He hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and was starting to scramble back up the slope when a torrent of wind propelled him out of the Optic Crater into the sky.
The rift in the plane was apparent. It had become a huge vacuum, taking the world of Narrigh back to Odisiris with it. He saw humans, elves, dwarves and goblins soaring through the air, Dal-Carrion with prey in their mouths, Citizen spacecraft and Silver Riders.
He hugged his bag to him. He floated higher and higher. He saw fear etched in the faces of those closest to him. He watched them tumble away, gasping in terror. Screams and shouts thundered in his ears. He heard the rapid fire of weapons and crackling flames. He breathed in smoke.
He saw ghosts; ghosts of women, men and children hovering around him. They were dressed in long, flowing robes. They had silver hair and indigo and blue-tinged eyes. Their faces were set like stone.
He felt drawn to them. I’m dead. Is this what death feels like? It was beginning to make sense now. The Traceless had taken his body and his soul.
He made himself say it. ‘I’m dead.’
‘You’re not dead,’ said the ghost of a girl of no more than fourteen. She had slender limbs and a triangular-shaped face.
The rift was closing, slowly, but it was closing. The races of Narrigh started to drop. They plummeted to the ground, writhing and grasping at the empty air. Some were flung great distances, their screams reverberating through the turrets of smoke.
A number of the Citizen spacecraft had landed within the city. Armoured Citizens came spilling out of the doors.
Skelos surveyed the blood streaming from the broken bodies of humans, dwarves, and goblins. Some vanished in a blaze of white light, while others remained. He shut his eyes. He was beginning to feel woozy. It wasn’t the bodies or the blood-curdling screams that troubled his head. Something had invaded his body, something inherently terrifying. He could feel it nudging at his brain like a damp cloth. He felt it twisting like a rope inside his stomach, his chest, and his legs.
After some time, the medley of noises subsided. The air grew cooler. Skelos landed on his feet, still clutching his bag. He opened one eye, and then the other. He realised with some revulsion that his robes were hanging off him. He ran his hands over his face. It was thin, saggy and full of lines. His belt had slipped to his thighs. His hands were bony and pale. He was back in the Guild Vaults beyond the three-panel door, standing outside the Blade Faction vault, looking in. The Cube of Armour was gone. The shelves emptied of every last item. He glanced up and down the deserted corridor. A broken marble pillar lay behind him. It had created a small crater in the floor. Cracks ran from under it. The floor also had accumulated broken glass and shattered stone.
‘What did you do?’ he hissed at the room. His body trembled all over.
‘We were going to take your soul, but then we changed our minds. The hour is not yet up and I see you have another treasure that may be of use to us.’
‘Well, you’re not getting it. Do you honestly think I’d part with my soul and thus my freedom?’
‘To be soulless is to be free. Imagine you will be like us. You won’t have to concern yourself with food, sleep, clothes or death.’
‘I like to concern myself with of all those things, thank you very much. And I preferred it when I had a lot more weight on me. I’ll get you your map. I have something else I must do first. I just need more time.’
‘How much time do you need?’
Skelos raised his hands. ‘I don’t know, a month at least, maybe two. You think this is going to be easy? Every race in Narrigh is above ground, not to mention a whole fleet of my own race. It takes careful planning, and planning takes patience. You’re being unreasonable!’
‘We already know that your treasure, the Avu’lore, permits you to control others. We were there when you were thinking about it. Tell us, is it only your mind we can read or others?’
‘Only mine,’ said Skelos. Think of flowers, blue flowers, nothing but blue flowers. ‘And it is easily veiled. You won’t learn anything from reading my thoughts. Only I have the power to control the Avu’lore. No one else. And I can’t control it without a soul. Therefore it is quite useless to you. You’ve asked a great task of me and I’ll need the time to deliver. We’re wasting precious time already. Give me two months. If you don’t hear from me in two months, you can have my soul or what’s left of it.’
A mesh-covered face flickered into view for about an instant and then it was gone.
‘We’ll hold you to your word Blue Flowers. One of our kind lies dormant within you. If you fail in this quest, you will become one of us.’
FORTY-THREE
Connor’s eyes flew open. He had a sense of something being dragged out from underneath him. He was falling. Flying. Cold air whistled past his head. He felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck, felt his heartbeat quicken.
‘Hurry!’ said the Authoritative Voice.
Connor scrambled up, spinning around, searching for the Voice. Sweat leaked from his pores, tickling his skin. Had he travelled in his sleep-dreams? If so, why here?
He was standing on a desert-cratered floor, studded with rifts, pits, and bowls coated in a rusty
orange powder. Light bled in through tiny holes above his head. His bag was on the ground beside him. He picked it up. It contained a few gold coins, the crumpled map of Narrigh and an apple. There was no sign of the Kherrin Mawk. He swung the bag over his shoulder and took a sharp breath. He scanned the great expanse of dust-filled depressions and the scars caused by the yawning fissures surging the length and breadth of the underground plane.
He jerked his head up, sniffing the air. He followed his nose a little way to his left where a matrix of ridges gave off a colourless steam.
He felt the heat. Some of it seemed to come from inside him, the rest emanated from the rock itself in low inconsistent waves. The smell that rose through his nostrils was not one of flame, but of the rusty grains beneath his feet, chalk, built-up residue and deadly fumes.
He coursed along the rusty carpet, spurred on by a loathsome feeling of dread.
Someone had been spying on him and he did not attempt to hide from the one he pursued. In fact, he wanted them to see him.
The roar of fires deep within the crater pulsated in his ears. His skin prickled from the heat rising up from the searing rock. Red lizards with bold yellow eyes exploded in his vision as he sped across the terrain like a Citizen possessed.
And he was gaining.
The Citizen he pursued was far older than he was, and though he moved like a whirlwind, he could not have hoped to outrun one so young.
Finally, the older Citizen dropped his pace, and then came to a stop beside a deep-pit-of-a-crater, raging with fire and brimstone. Panting heavily, the Citizen trailed a sweaty palm across his surly mouth. His neck and face were smeared with the orange dust. Sweat dripped from his straggly hair, oozed from his tangled beard.