For a second, no one moved. Then a hundred pairs of silver eyes, and a forest of spears, shifted from the hybrid to Michael.
The old dollman lowered his staff. “Who speaks while this elder judges?”
“He is the Awoken,” Jericho announced loudly. “This one has led him to the city of the People. Lower your spears, my brothers. The Awoken is friend to the People.”
Murmuring broke out among the dollmen and many spears drooped. The little men in front pressed closer, while those in the rear stood up on their toes or climbed right up the wall to get a better look at Michael.
The wrinkled elder tapped the butt of his staff loudly on the floor. The murmuring died instantly, and the dollmen on the wall dropped back down amongst their brethren.
The elder pursed his pale lips. “The Awoken would have the Fallen live?”
“Yes,” Michael answered simply. “He can’t hurt you. If you chain him up or something, I can probably figure out a way to get him out of the floor. We don’t have to kill him.”
“Why should we not?” the elder countered. “The Fallen are the instruments of the Betrayer, he who steals the earth and bone. They are evil. It is not good that even one of the Fallen should live. If the Awoken is friend to the People, should he not know this? Or is he friend of the Fallen and the Betrayer and not of the People?”
Several of the dollmen raised their spears at this, growling menacingly. The elder made no move to quiet them.
Lina nudged Michael. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “Let them have the VEN monster, for crying out loud. You’re going to get us killed.”
“I don’t care, Lina. This isn’t right.” Michael stepped away from her. “Stay here with Jericho.”
The dollmen melted before Michael as he walked toward the elder, closing their ranks behind him as he passed.
The elder waved to the trapped belua. “If you are the Awoken and a friend to the People,” he challenged, “then you must protect the city of the People. Kill the Fallen, or we shall—”
“Shut up.” Michael’s eyes lit with silver fire. “Now you listen to me, all of you.” He waved his arm to encompass every dollman in the cavern, and the ground shivered beneath his hand as it passed. “I am the Awoken!”
The dollmen shrank back, and a hastily thrown spear shot from the crowd toward Michael’s heart.
A bolt of silver light leapt from Michael’s hand, shattering the crystal spear midflight. “I am the Awoken,” he said again. “And I am not your enemy. I will help you fight the Fallen and the Betrayer. But not like this. I will not kill a helpless creature, not even if it’s VEN.”
The elder angrily shook his staff at the belua. “The Fallen are evil,” he said. “They have spilt the blood of our brothers and sisters. They must die!”
“You are right about VEN being evil,” Michael said. “And if one of us were stuck in the floor surrounded by belua, they would kill us without a second thought. But don’t you see? That is what makes them evil.” He pointed, and power snapped from his finger into the ground, surrounding the belua in a ring of silver flame. “Are the People just like VEN? Do they kill without mercy or conscience?”
The hybrid shrieked, batting ineffectually at the flames closing in around him. The cries turned Michael’s stomach, but he did not relent. If he wanted to change the elder’s mind, he had to make him see, to show him in grisly detail the overwhelming wrongness of what they intended for the helpless belua.
“Mike, don’t!” Lina shouted.
A small hand touched Michael’s leg.
“Do not,” the elder said. “You are right, stonesinger. We are not the Fallen. We are the People of the Mountain.”
The dollman waved his staff, and Michael felt a gentle pressure pushing back against the stonesong. He relaxed against the elder’s power, and the ring of silver fire sputtered and died.
“As you suggest, we shall bind the Fallen.” The elder pursed his lips thoughtfully. “If he does not attack the People, we shall then free him from the stone’s grip and release him into one of the high tunnels to find his own way back to the surface.”
“Thank you,” said Michael.
“Michael is not like the Fallen.” Jericho’s silver eyes gleamed with pride as he led Lina through the crowd. “He is the guardian of earth and bone. He is the Awoken.”
“Indeed.” The elder solemnly placed his staff on the floor before placing both hands flat to his chest. “I am Warmsoil, seventh elder of the People of the Mountain.” He bowed to Michael. “Welcome, Awoken.”
A hundred spears clattered to the floor as every dollman in the cavern followed the elder’s example. “Welcome, Awoken.”
As the dollmen greeted him, Michael noticed a pale figure kneeling at the front of the crowd. Black despair covered him like a cloak of shadow.
Her ivory hands clutched to her heart, Lina also bowed low to the Awoken.
37
The World
Equinox bent down over the microscope, examining the latest sample taken from one of the deeper tunnels. The fragment was eighty-two percent pure. Of course, he knew that without need of the microscope. The sample of earthbone-infused rock called to him with uncomfortable strength, even filtered through the waystone hung by a gold chain around his neck.
He breathed deeply, tasting the earthbone’s vibrations on the tip of his tongue. It was so clear now, so close, and a thousand times more potent then the faint hum he’d sensed buried in these mountains so long ago.
He’d been in his second year of college when the People had unleashed the sleeping power inside him. What a wonder it had seemed, to merge with rock and stone, to feel the very fabric of the world quivering at his touch. The glory of it had been breathtaking, and the waystone was a device unlike anything on earth. Of course, he’d analyzed the gem and the unusual silver element around it as soon as he was able.
Equinox straightened from the microscope with a regretful sigh.
So much time lost, so many lives lost for the sake of a better future. The People should have listened to him, should have accepted the role of earthbone in this newest evolution of the world. But the mutants were unwilling to see reason. They’d hidden the earthbone, refusing to share the location of their city, the element’s source. It was a pointless endeavor. Try as they might, the People couldn’t hide the earthbone from the stonesong, couldn’t prevent him from extending an invisible hand to draw it slowly from the earth. And now, the long years of effort had borne silver fruit at last. Very soon, he would have it all.
“What do you think, doctor?”
Equinox transferred his gaze to the longhaired young scientist hovering at the end of the examination table. “What do I think about what, Nelson?”
Nelson gave a nervous smile. “What do you think about the samples, doctor?” He nodded to the armored storage units stacked at the far side of the tent/laboratory. “It’s almost pure and… well, I can’t begin to imagine the possibilities.”
“I can, Nelson,” Equinox said. “Which is why I’m in command. Quite honestly, I’m somewhat disappointed in your lack of imagination. You are an intelligent man; too timid by half, I think. A truly exceptional scientist must be a visionary as well as a scholar. He must not be afraid to push the boundaries.”
Nelson’s smile faltered.
The flap behind the young scientist parted, and a bald belua stepped into the tent. Closing the flap behind him, the hybrid stood near the exit, hands crossed behind his back.
Equinox raised an eyebrow, inviting the belua to make his report.
“They are ready, Dr. Equinox,” announced the belua in a deep baritone. “We can move on your word.”
“Excellent, Belua Jeremiah,” Equinox said. He tapped the microscope with his finger. “Nelson, I want these samples secured the moment you’re finished. I want no chances taken with the earthbone.”
Nelson nodded. “Of course, Dr. Equinox. There’s a helicopter standing by. The first six containers will be on th
eir way to the Farm within the hour.”
“Secure three more helicopters for transport,” Equinox said. Buttoning his white coat, he moved past Nelson toward the exit. “We’re bringing up more earthbone every hour, and I don’t want to leave any of it out in the open. While you’re at it, send three exploratory teams in a two-mile perimeter of the camp. The local environment has undergone significant alteration; have the team catalogue as many variants as they can find and send their samples out with the containers.”
“Right away, Dr. Equinox.”
Jeremiah pulled back the tent flap, and Equinox stepped out into the open air.
The makeshift lab was at the far end of the valley. The creek bed was nearly level here, placing the delicate equipment in less danger of being tipped or otherwise damaged. Two landing pads sat at the lower end in the valley, as well as several pavilion-like tents set aside for the workers and security forces.
Equinox lifted the collar of his coat. It was cool outside. The day was growing old. Long crooked shadows filled the valley as the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains. A thin fog had begun to rise at the trees’ edge.
There was a twinge in the stonesong, and two VEN hounds padded around the corner of the tent. The ground units froze as they caught sight of Equinox and Jeremiah, but only for as long as it took them to identify Equinox’s scent. They sat down together, ears twitching attentively for instruction.
Equinox waved to the hounds dismissively. “Carry on.”
The dogs immediately resumed their patrol.
Equinox motioned for Jeremiah to follow and headed for the cliff. “How many do we have, Belua Jeremiah?”
Jeremiah removed a digital pad from his jacket and consulted the blue screen. “The units we had scouring the mountains are still arriving, doctor. Three twenty-man teams are prepped and ready to go. The rest should be here by morning.”
“Good enough for now,” Equinox said. Men in camouflage came to stiff attention as they walked through the camp, saluting Equinox as he passed. He didn’t bother returning the gesture. He was a scientist, not a general. How he longed for the day when he no longer had to rely on the services of ex-soldiers and mercenaries. “What about our modified personnel?”
They reached the cliff, and Equinox looked up at the huge gash carved from its face. It was a clever ploy, bringing down the rock from above while he concentrated on the tunnel. Considering the brutish way the boy wielded the stonesong, he wouldn’t have thought Michael capable of such a feat. The stonesong splashed out of the youngster like water over a failing dam—haphazard, without focus or restraint.
Equinox frowned. The boy’s waystone should have prevented such wild and potentially dangerous bursts of power. Was it possible that the People had gifted their newest Awoken with a flawed gem?
It was a possibility. In any event, the rockslide had proved to be only a temporary setback. Using the stonesong, it had taken him less than an hour to penetrate the obstruction. Strings of lights now illuminated a cylindrical passage he’d drilled through the fallen rock.
“Modified personnel are spread pretty thin,” Jeremiah said. “I’ve sent word to the Farm, and they’re sending transports. The first shipments will be here tomorrow morning. As of this moment, we have ninety-six hounds, thirty urban trackers, and thirty-six belua. Per your instructions, Belua Nabal has operational command of the human hybrids.”
“Only thirty-six? What of the belua sent into the tunnels?”
Jeremiah coughed uncomfortably. “They haven’t reported back, doctor. It’s a maze down there. Perhaps they became lost in the cave network.”
Equinox raised an eyebrow. “A highly trained collection of modified humans, who carry advanced communication equipment, have become lost underground? I think not. Give me an honest assessment, Jeremiah. I have no patience for unfounded optimism. It is a useless trait in an advisor.”
Jeremiah’s cheeks reddened. “Primary contact is the most likely explanation, Dr. Equinox. Since none of our belua have returned, we should assume one hundred percent fatality in the encounter.”
Equinox nodded. “I concur with your evaluation, Jeremiah. I might add that so many causalities would indicate an attack by a vastly superior force.”
“That is a distinct possibility, Dr. Equinox,” Jeremiah said. “I suggest we send the urban units into the tunnels to scout while we await reinforcements. The primaries aren’t going anywhere, and we will have a force of five hundred men and hybrids within twenty-four hours. If you’re willing to wait, we can triple that number in a week.”
Equinox stared into the tunnel as he considered, permitting the earthbone-rich air to fill his mind with its warm hum. Fifteen years he’d waited. Fifteen years eradicating cancers and other diseases in high-powered executives and politicians, consolidating his power base in preparation for this moment. Scores of powerful men and women were bound to his will by mutative suppressants only he could provide. Success was so close he could taste it.
“Inform Belua Nabal he is to organize the forces as soon as the transports arrive. I want him ready to move by noon tomorrow. And I will require two belua as personal escort.”
Jeremiah fumbled with his digital pad, nearly dropping it. “You’re going with them? Forgive me, doctor, but that is an incredible risk. For your safety, I suggest you refrain from venturing into the tunnels until our forces have secured the objective.”
“I will be going with Nabal, Belua Jeremiah,” Equinox said. “Send in the trackers tonight. I want a layout of the cave network as soon as possible. Also, have our guest prepared for travel. He will prove useful when we encounter the boy.”
“But, doctor, I just—”
Equinox’s eyes flooded with silver.
Jeremiah’s mouth snapped shut. Bobbing his head in a hasty nod, he turned and hurried toward the camp.
Equinox dismissed the hybrid from his mind, gazing into the tunnel with his liquid silver eyes. He was so close. “I’ve waited long enough.”
38
The City, At Last
Accompanied by several warriors, Warmsoil, Michael, and his companions, made their way down a well-trod path through the crystal forest. The magical wood housed amazing creatures. There was a bright red deer with a single black horn protruding from its forehead, luminescent birds, and giant snails with crusty, car-sized shells.
Mounted dollmen patrolled the trail atop four-legged feathered beasts with hooked beaks and large padded feet.
“They look like a cross between an eagle and a mountain lion,” Lina said of the strange mounts. “Sort of like that horse-eagle thing from Harry Potter, but without the wings.”
“They are called falcryn,” Warmsoil said. “They are fierce protectors and loyal companions. The Riders of the People cherish them greatly.”
As they passed a dollman rider, his falcryn reached up, snipped an arm-thick branch from a crystal tree with its beak, and began to noisily devour the crunchy foliage.
Michael shuddered. “Whatever you call them, I wouldn’t want to tangle with one. Those beaks look sharp.”
A few of the diminutive warriors laughed, and Warmsoil smiled. “You are correct, Awoken,” he said. “Though these falcryn feed mainly upon plants, it is not wise to anger them.”
The journey continued, and Michael continued to marvel at the underground wood. Everywhere he looked, impossible animals grazed or played among the gleaming trunks. It was breathtaking. He was almost disappointed when they reached the city gates. The tall gates already stood open, and Warmsoil guided them without preamble through the gates and into the city.
Hundreds of sparkling towers connected by arched bridges and ramparts overlooked a rabbit’s warren of corridors, halls, bustling streets, and dome-shaped rooftops. Dollmen dressed in all manner of clothing, from Jericho’s shimmering black kilt to long tunics of multicolored metallic weave, moved from building to building, carrying exotic foodstuffs or other tools and supplies like crystalline wood or worked stone. Femal
es were present as well. Dressed in shimmering gowns, the silver-haired dollwomen were slightly smaller than the males and often had tiny infants or toddlers in tow.
Despite the magnificent sights, Michael grew more uncomfortable the farther they moved into the city. Dollmen paused to stare and whisper as he passed, and dollwomen hustled wide-eyed children from the streets. Wrinkled ancients glared at him from raised stone porches, unconcealed suspicion glowing in their silver eyes.
Michael leaned over to Jericho. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not welcome?”
“The People do not know you, Awoken,” Jericho said. “Do not worry. When the elders reveal you to the People, all will be well.”
Warmsoil stopped before a lofty white tower, with wide steps leading to a coal-black door. “The Tower of Elders,” he said. “The rest of the elders have already gathered inside. From here, only the Awoken and I may travel.”
“What do you mean?” Michael asked. “I’m not leaving Lina and Jericho out here by themselves. What if something happens to them?”
“None may enter the tower save Awoken or elder,” Warmsoil explained. “Fear not. No harm shall come to your companions in this place.”
“Forget it. I’m not leaving my friends.”
“It is not permitted, Awoken,” Jericho said. “Go with Elder Warmsoil and do not worry. I shall protect little sister.”
Lina grunted. “Listen to him, Mike. We’ll be fine. Besides, the sooner you talk to the elders, the sooner they can get this thing out of my hand.”
Michael frowned. “I don’t like leaving you alone, Lina.”
Lina lifted a handful of her silver hair. “Well, I don’t like this either. So stop being a ninny and go talk to the elders.”
Michael shook his head in resignation. “Fine, I’ll go. Try to stay out of trouble until I get back.”
“With you gone, what kind of trouble could I get in?”
“Very funny.”
“Come, Awoken,” Warmsoil said. He waved his staff, and the black doors swung open. “The elders wait, as does your destiny.”
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