by J R Devoe
Deka scrambles to join his kin below the Capstone. They crouch with spears and await the climbing swarm of Watchers, thousands strong now—their ranks replenished by the portal. The Black Tide rises to drown us out. But Jexa’s serpent has choked off the gateway and prevented more from coming.
I do not know what will happen to Deka and the survivors after I destroy the Capstone. If the Watchers continue to assail them on the high ground, how long could they expect to last? Longer than facing the serpent. That much I’m sure of. Besides, I cannot worry about that right now.
Sheffa and a few Fori crouch among the sapien defenders. She pats my back as I crawl through their perimeter, then gives me a boost up to the next level.
I collapse above the upper defense line to catch my breath, two tiers below the Capstone. This rest is not a luxury we can afford.
A brain-splitting screech tears through the air. It feels as if my skull is cracking in half. Above, the portal glows red and bulges downward toward me. Through its wavy surface I see fangs, two rows atop and two below, hinging wide and snapping, and eyes as red as rubies.
I clamber up the last two tiers and throw myself onto the Capstone. Or, at least, I try. The rising energy column pushes me up so that I don’t even touch it on first try. The upward force blasts my hair and threatens to rip every strand from my scalp. Opening my eyes is not an option. I press downward, fighting against the current, but it’s like wading through a flood. I push harder, my skin pulling tighter to my bones the lower I go, until I make contact.
The golden Capstone is almost too cold to touch. I waste no time and get straight to work, sending a vibration through its molecular bonds. It produces the strangest sensation: my own vibration rattling back.
My heart quivers. So this is what the beginning of the end feels like.
I nail down the frequency and send a stronger counter-force. This is met with what feels like static charge. I try again, but the harder I push, the harder the Capstone pushes back. I send a jolt and get one right back, like electricity.
This is what my mentors had warned me about. It will take all I have, will sap all of my energy, and still…that may not be enough. And what an awful way to die: getting zapped into a hundred trillion sizzling particles.
I can’t do it!
A roar drowns out the clamor. Above, two nostrils bulge through the gate’s rounded side.
Jexa is trying to bring a beast back from death by disrupting space-time. If this is possible, then my task is no stretch. I can kill again what my mother has already killed. Yes, I can and I will. For I am Nya—Destroyer of Worlds!
I press with all my might and send the biggest vibration I’ve ever conjured.
That’s it! I feel the internal chains stretch and strain to maintain their bonds, particles desperate to stick together. I ease off and feel the chains spring back like elastic. Keeping them stretched requires that I maintain at least this vibration. To my surprise, this isn’t hard at all. In fact, I’m able to increase it, which further stretches the bonds, separating particles at the atomic level.
My hands go numb, like when they fall asleep from lack of circulation. The numbness spreads up my arms… to my chest and up my face to my scalp, and down my legs… all the way down… everything down to my toes falling asleep until I am weightless. Relaxed. It’s so peaceful…
“Nya!” The voice is distant. Maybe a memory.
I’m so sleepy. It’s time to rest I think. Just for a bit, to gather my strength and… and what? What was I doing? It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is can wait. I just need me a good sleep.
Heaviness weighs on my back and squeezes my chest. No, squeeze isn’t the right word. This is a hug. Someone is hugging me from behind.
For some forgotten reason I’m not supposed to open my eyes, but I risk opening them anyway.
At first I think my vision is blurry—that’s why my arms appear loose as snowflakes rising from snow-covered ground, like a snowfall in reverse—until I look to the arms holding me. The detail of the brown skin is so sharp and vivid, down to the finest hair.
Deka clings to my back and buries his face into my neck, where he starts heaving. With him doing this, the snow—the particles that make up my body—fall back to my bones. My arms sharpen as my bonds regroup and solidify.
I remember why I’m here, what I am doing. And I must do it fast, because though Deka has grounded me, he has only bought me a bit of time. Already his arms are blurring, the bonds of his body loosening.
I want to shake him off my back, to free him from this doom, but removing my hands will reset the Capstone’s bonds. I’ve made too much progress to give it up. Already the energy stream rising before me has weakened enough for me to keep my eyes open. I can see through to the other side, where a black figure grows larger through the milky haze.
Jexa!
She lands on the Capstone opposite me. Only…it’s not Jexa. It’s Ko Skadia! She’s leaking from two gaping wounds in her chest, and it takes ten Fori to keep her upright.
She slams both hands onto the Capstone and immediately I feel the strain of my own effort ease. This, however, is no time for a breather, so I pour my freed up energy into the gold to further weaken its bonds. My hands are numb but I get this phantom sensation that they are playing with wet sand. The Capstone is softening. We’re doing it!
My rejoice fades with Ko Skadia’s body. Literally. She is a blur, almost see-through. When I look at Deka’s arms around me and my own, I see the same effect, though not so severe. Ko Skadia’s wounds have rendered her too weak to endure this strain. She is fading much faster than I. Her head sags and elbows lean against the sloped Capstone face.
Marlok must have noticed the effect of Deka’s technique on me, because he latches onto Ko Skadia’s back. Immediately the color returns to her face. Her dazed eyes widen with awareness. I feel the surge of her output and match its frequency. We are almost there, but almost is not good enough. I feel Deka and I start to fade again, like falling asleep. It’s actually not so bad. Despite the havoc around us, it’s peaceful.
Suddenly Deka grows heavier on my back. Impossible. He should be coming undone like me, sharing my fate.
Commotion across the energy stream draws my attention to Ko Skadia. Marlok is no longer alone in grounding her. Several sapiens and Fori grab her arms and pile onto Marlok’s back to share the load.
No amount of numbness can tame the goosebumps rising on my skin. Has there ever been a more inspiring sight?
Not everyone is here to help, however. In the sky behind Ko Skadia, two Aeri lift Jexa by her spear. They rise high above the pyramid and then dive toward us at great speed. Both Aeri release their ends of the vertical spear and send Jexa gliding down toward us. Towards me!
A hand clamps my forearm. In the corner of my eye, I see Sheffa convulsing as she reaches behind with her free hand in search of another anchor. Mora is quick to grab it from the level below, where a mix of Fori and Ori and sapiens hug her.
My heart pounds with a force of light and warmth that only the instant of Creation could rival. Everyone around this Capstone have enlisted themselves to share my doom, and this sacrifice stirs an energy deep within me, a glowing light I never knew I had. I blast this new, infinite frequency through my fingertips and into the gold before me.
Jexa glides over Ko Skadia, through the energy stream, and drives her spear through my chest at the instant I feel the Capstone explode. The last thing I see is white light.
We are dust.
EPILOGUE
THE DARK IS BRIGHTER THAN I’d been expecting. Heavier, too. It’s almost enough to smother me.
When I raise a hand to shield my eyes from the glare, I’m surprised I even have a hand at all. And it feels as if I’m forcing my way through sand.
A grainy substance invades my eyes. I rub them, but it makes the gritty feeling worse.
I wiggle my toes and feel fine particles slide between them. I slide my feet around, feeling a silky layer of w
arm up top and cold below.
When I lift my head and sit up, the weight slides to either side of me. Sand.
My head swirls and it takes all my effort to remain upright. I feel like puking so bad I gag and clap a hand over my mouth.
“There she is!” rises a voice from behind.
I turn to see Sheffa standing atop a grassy bluff. Deka rushes up from the far slope to join her, then races down the sandy side toward me.
As if remembering a dream, I recall Jexa plunging her spear into me. I feel my chest and belly for a wound, but my hand glides smoothly over my skin and finds nothing out of the ordinary. How can this be?
Deka slides to a stop beside me and wraps me in his arms.
“Jexa…” I say, though I can hardly breathe in his embrace. “She stabbed me with her spear.”
Deka holds me at arm's length to examine my torso, then smiles. “She tried,” he says.
Of course. If Jexa succeeded, Deka and I would be skewered together, because he’d been clinging to my back. A quick look over him confirms this hasn’t happened.
“She went right through you!” Sheffa exclaims, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Wouldn’t a believed it if I didn’t see it wiff me own eyes. You was like a ghost. We all was.”
“And Jexa?” I say, looking to the sky warily.
Sheffa hugs herself and looks to her feet.
I accept Deka’s help to stand and scan our surroundings. The Capstone must have exploded in spectacular fashion, because the blast had thrown me beyond sight of the pyramids. All I see is ocean to my right and a wall of grassy dunes to my left. The landing alone should have shattered my body, yet none of my bones feel broken. I flex my fingers. No pain.
I need a better look from high ground, so I race up the dunes, where my eyes struggle to accept a strange sight.
Nearby, to the east, surf rolls at the edge of a glittering ocean. In its retreat, it leaves a smooth expanse of silvery wet sand. Like polished platinum. In the water beyond is an island of arched rock. To the west, even closer, a forest of white branches supports a canopy of glittering purple leaves.
Three dozen familiar faces join me on the bluff—Fori, Ori, and sapien.
“Where are the pyramids?” I say. I squint upward in search of Watchers, but see only fluffy pink clouds in a lavender sky.
“They’s gone,” Sheffa says.
“They are not gone,” says Marlok, squeezing the silver shaft of a Watcher spear. He squints suspiciously at the forest. “They are exactly where we left them.”
My breath catches. Deka’s war leader is right. The light from the glowing star that fosters life on this planet feels different on my skin. It glows with less intensity than that of Gaia’s Sun.
So, we didn’t turn to dust after all. Somehow we got sucked into the energy stream and spit out here.
I survey the violet forest. Such scenery is nothing new to me, but I can tell by the glaze over Deka’s eyes that he is awestruck. These shades of purple are new to him.
I look to the powder blue disk glowing in the lavender sky. “What star is that?”
The Fori and Ori gathered around exchanged unknowing looks and shrug.
So none of us has been here before. This is not a planet we’ve revived.
I scan the area for artificial structures. Nothing but sand bluffs, trees, and the sound of rolling surf from a glittering sea greet my senses. “Where’s the gateway?” I ask.
This draws even more confused looks.
I crouch and hug my knees, trying to keep my concern from showing on my face. Without the information encoded into the markings inscribed on portal gates, we’ll have to wait until night to survey the stars to determine our position.
Yet, what good will that do us without a gate? We’d be trapped here without one. It must be nearby.
“Come!” beckons a distant voice. “This way!”
A second group appears on a dune between us and the forest. Platinum sands slides from under them and gives the dune the appearance of melting steel at the head of a meteor entering atmosphere.
After my days on Earth, it’s taking some time for my eyes to adjust to this planet’s color spectrum. I notice Deka blinking and rubbing his eyes a lot, like he’s thinking there’s something wrong with them.
We join the group of Fori atop the large dune. Down the far slope, Ori and sapiens splash in a purple oasis. Their playful laughter rises loud. For a mono-planetary species, Deka’s folk accept this change of environment remarkably quick. The transit must have muddled their minds.
Of all these strange happenings, perhaps the strangest is Ko Skadia building a sand castle at the oasis edge. Imagine, an Entropath Elder, building something. I slide down to join her.
“Ko Skadia, where are we?”
She smiles and scoops water onto dry sand, then sets about forming it into a turret.
Mora wades out of the water. “You’re wasting your time. She’s here in body, but I’ve not gotten any more than a stupid smile from her.”
“Do you know how this happened?”
Mora looks to the sky. “Not even our wisest Elders know all the Universe’s secrets. But we are here nonetheless. Only those who sacrificed themselves on the Capstone ended up on this planet. For all we can say, this is a reward from some benevolent force.”
“Or a curse,” I add, but I’m quick to cover my mouth with both hands. Best not to whisper dreadful possibilities into this mysterious Universe.
None of my companions offer me even the slightest look of scorn. Instead, Mora smacks me on the shoulder. “Relax, Nya. It’s not often our kind slip through the grid like this.” She shakes her head at the sky. “Watchers may have never felt this star’s rays on their skin. Without a gate, how could they ever get here?”
“Like us. If we got here, so could they.”
“They’d never know where to look.” Mora scoops sand between both hands and lifts it for all to see. “There are as many planets as there are grains of sand on every planet in this Universe.”
Deka shakes his head. “Impossible.”
“Not impossible,” I tell him. “Infinity.”
He frowns at this word and looks to the sand at his feet.
“Even with a gate,” Mora says, “it’d be an impossible shot in the dark to find us.”
Tears well in my eyes. “If there really is no portal, then…”
Deka locks eyes on me and, picking up on my distress, a flood of panic washes away his wonder. “There’s no way back? My people… with all those Watchers… they’ll be slaughtered!”
He falls to his knees and begins to hyperventilate. I latch onto his back in the same way he did to me on the pyramid, and I use my breathing to steady his.
“Don’t worry, Deka,” I whisper in his ear. “We’ll find you a way home, and we’ll save your people. I swear it.”
Deka’s breathing slows and falls into rhythm with mine. His hands reach up to where mine are clasped over his chest, and together we stare out to sea.
“With any luck,” I say, “Jexa will have moved her army on to another planet and left the portal open. We’ll split into teams to search for this planet’s gate, then—”
“Easy,” says Mora with a gentle squeeze of my shoulder. “We just fought the biggest battle in the history of our race. We need time to catch our breath and rest.”
This is true. Looking around, even the sapiens don’t seem in much of a hurry to find the gate. A few still play in the oasis with the Ori and Fori. Their laughter puts me on edge. I scan the sky, expecting a Watcher party to come swooping in to break up the fun. We have rules. Daylight is work time.
Marlok crouches beside Ko Skadia and helps build her sand castle. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, but smiles at the water canal he digs around her battlements, as if it appeared there by magic. Part of me envies her wondrous ignorance.
But no. There is work to do. My mother’s spark now belongs to Jexa, along with many others who’d sacrificed themselves
at the pyramids. For the same reasons that Deka cannot abandon his people, I dare not forget about mine.
Our fight on Earth is not yet over.
To Be Continued…
COMING SOON…
A S H E S
A Post-Apocalyptic Fairy Tale, Book 2
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book has seen many revisions, every one of which I thought would be my last, and every one of which my mother and father had painstakingly checked for errors. A huge thanks goes out to Julie and James Devoe for always patiently bearing with me and for enthusiastically proofreading the numerous “final” drafts I produced. My parents have been a constant source of support throughout this endeavour, and for that I cannot thank them enough.
I was fortunate to also have many friends help me out along this journey to publication. Colleen House, for giving me that push to go to the Big Apple and pitch my stories to the world back in 2017. And Paul Bailey, for always checking in on me as I slumped over his kitchen table in varying degrees of despair while trying to make the words go.
To my brother Mitchell, whose compassion and scientific curiosities provided the inspiration for Deka and his most admirable qualities.
Thank you to my beta readers who offered varying levels of contribution at various stages of development: Nikki Boccelli, Leslie Arambula, and Mica Scotti Kole.