Awoken

by Timothy Miller

  “If you don’t mind, Warmsoil, let’s just meet the elders and leave destiny out of it,” Michael said, entering the spire behind the dollman. “The way things have been going lately, I don’t think destiny likes me very much.”

  39

  The Price of a Name

  Michael leaned far out the oval-shaped window. It was a long way down. The Tower of The Elders was among the tallest buildings in the city. Somewhere far below, Jericho and Lina were waiting, forbidden by tradition to enter this sacred chamber.

  “The danger is too great, Awoken,” Warmsoil said behind him.

  Michael turned from the window. “But can it be done, Elder Warmsoil?”

  The council chamber of the elders was tall and domed, devoid of furniture save for a large pillar of blue crystal set in the exact center of the snow-white floor of polished marble. Gems of every color and size intermixed with carvings of bizarre animals and plants on the inward-curving walls and ceiling.

  The elders, seventeen in all, stood across the room from him in a loosely huddled crowd. Warmsoil had introduced them all, but Michael remembered only a few of their names. And right now, their expressions ranged from pinched and sour to frustrated and regretful.

  Rockspeak, a sturdy dollman wearing a headdress of gemstones braided in silver wire, waved Michael’s question aside. “Your friend is become, Awoken. The elders have not the power to draw the earth and bone from her now,” he proclaimed in a gravelly voice. “Accept it.”

  Michael clenched his fists. “I can’t accept that. I won’t. We came all this way. We fought VEN, lost Diggs. There has to be a way!”

  The elders murmured to one another. Some of the little men gave him sympathetic looks, while others only shook their heads vehemently in denial.

  Warmsoil raised his hand, and the elders quieted. “What you ask is beyond our power,” he said sadly. “It is true we elders can stonesing in our way, but we are not Awoken. The art of the elders is a grain of sand compared to the mountain of the stonesong.”

  Michael slumped. “So that’s it? Lina’s going to stay this way forever?”

  Warmsoil sighed, and leaned heavily on his staff. “Yes. Had you a waystone, perhaps you would possess the strength to free the earthbone from her flesh. But we elders cannot.”

  Michael’s eyes lit up. “But I have a waystone now,” he said. “Show me what to do, and I’ll fix Lina myself.”

  Warmsoil shook his head. “It cannot be done, Awoken.”

  “Why not?”

  “The waystone is bound to her,” Warmsoil explained. “If you touch it too deeply with the stonesong, the power will consume her. Only another waystone, combined with the power of the Awoken, might undo what has already been wrought by the binding.”

  “Enough,” interrupted a grumpy ancient called Redflint. “This is pointless. You cannot save the little sister, Awoken. Nor do we have the strength to remove the waystone from her flesh. And even were you grown into your power, the elderstone we’ve given you has not the power of the waystone. You could not help her.”

  Michael fingered the pendant Warmsoil had given him. “What do you mean? This stone works pretty good.” The moment he’d fastened the stone around his neck, the deafening music of earthbone had muted to a distant hum. For the first time in what seemed forever, he could let down his guard without worrying about losing control of the stonesong. “I can still hear the music in the rocks. It’s just different now, less noisy. Man, it’s like I’m listening through earplugs or something.”

  Greendown, a husky dollman with a green handprint on his chest, leaned closer to Warmsoil. “What are earplugs?”

  Warmsoil tapped his fingers along his staff thoughtfully. “I’m not certain. A surface ornament, perhaps? Not unlike a headdress, I’ll wager, only fitted upon the overlarge flaps around their ear holes.”

  Greendown grunted. “If the Awoken desires them, I will send a scouting party above to bring him these earplugs.”

  Redflint gave them a sour look. “The elderstone will quiet the music of the earth, yes. But it is not a waystone. It will not allow you to channel your full power, Awoken.”

  “Then give me a waystone,” Michael said.

  “Bah,” Redflint spat, his face screwing up like an ugly white prune. “Waystones do not fall from the ceiling. You would know such things if you took instruction.”

  Michael took firm hold of his anger. He needed this little creep’s help to save Lina. “I’m sorry I lost the first waystone, Elder Redflint. But Lina needs a cure now. Please, can’t you loan me another so I can save her?”

  “Only two waystones survived the great fall, Awoken,” Warmsoil said. “And the new little sister you have brought carries one of them in her flesh. Only a stone of equal power can remove it.”

  “Well, what about the other one? Where is it?”

  Warmsoil looked away.

  “We will address the lost waystone in time,” Rockspeak said loudly. “Let us first speak of the naming the Awoken has done on one of the People. It is not a true naming. The Awoken must renounce this thing.”

  Greendown stomped forward. “The Awoken has named the one,” he growled. A few elders nodded their assent. “Jericho will not be unnamed.”

  Rockspeak showed his pointy teeth. “You speak in pride, Greendown, ninth elder of the People. All here know the one named is among your scouts.” Some of the elders nodded in agreement, exchanging angry glares with those who’d sided with Greendown. “All know the newest Awoken is young and untutored in our ways. He has made a mistake that must be undone.”

  “It is you who speak in pride, Rockspeak, fourth elder of the People,” Greendown said. A distinct line began to form in the center of the room, splitting Rockspeak and Greendown’s supporters into two distinct groups. “Had the Awoken named one of the spears, you would not speak thus.”

  “This is not good, Awoken,” Warmsoil said softly to Michael. “The People must stand together, now more than ever.”

  Other elders began to argue the point, many shaking staffs or clubs in their fervor.

  Michael scratched his head. “Is everyone here crazy? There is a VEN army knocking on the door, and Lina is getting worse. What’s the big deal with Jericho’s name, anyway?”

  “Names have power here, Awoken,” Warmsoil said. “A single elder is named for each clan of the People. Look there.” He pointed to a spindly dollman standing to the right of Greendown. “Tallpath leads the riders who patrol the forest.” He shifted his finger to a squat elder behind Rockspeak. “Coldrun speaks for the climbers, those who venture to the great walls and climb the frozen heights seeking the high tunnels. Names carry their own honor here.”

  “If it’s such a big deal, why does Greendown want Jericho to keep his name?”

  “Jericho is one of Greendown’s far scouts,” Warmsoil said. “You have honored the scouts greatly by this naming. Greendown will stand with you against all others if need be.”

  Michael felt an instant kinship with the green-painted elder. At least he’d made one friend among the squabbling elders.

  “Rockspeak commands the spears, those who guard the secret gates,” Warmsoil continued. “His is the largest clan, and so feels his spears deserve the greater honor. But the old laws are set. Only an Awoken or a full council of elders may remove a name once it is given. Greendown will vote against the unnaming. So, Rockspeak must convince you to undo Jericho’s naming.”

  “That is nuts,” Michael said. “VEN is coming. It’s stupid to argue over something so small.”

  Warmsoil nodded sagely. “This is truth. But even something so small as a pebble can start the mightiest avalanche.”

  The shouting match went on for several minutes.

  Finally, Rockspeak, shaking with rage, threw down his staff. “You speak like a child, Greendown, ignorant and without wisdom. The Awoken will undo what he has done, or I will force him!”

  Greendown hefted a serrated club. “Do you threaten the Awoken, Rockspeak?�
�

  “Enough,” Michael said. “I’ve had enough of this.”

  A wall of silver flames burst from the ground between Rockspeak and Greendown. The elders fell back on either side, shielding their eyes from the fire.

  Squinting against the glare, Rockspeak pointed an accusing finger at Michael. “You see, my brothers? See how he wields the stonesong like a spoiled child, eager for attention? This Awoken needs instruction.”

  “I’ve got no time to take lessons,” Michael exploded. “Are you all nuts or just stupid? Read my lips, you morons, VEN will be here soon!”

  Rockspeak smirked. “The fear of a child. The spears of the People have defended the secret ways for generations. They will continue to do so.”

  “You think killing a few belua makes you an expert on VEN?” Michael asked. Silver fire dripped from his fingers, causing rippling tremors in the stone floor as it struck. “You have no idea what you’re up against. Diggs said there is an army of hybrids, and they know you’re down here. Equinox wants the earthbone, and he’s coming to get it.”

  “If more come, we will kill them,” Rockspeak said. “The Fallen will not enter this place.”

  “Haven’t you been listening?” Michael shouted. “If we don’t get organized now, VEN are going to run right over you!”

  “Indeed?” Rockspeak picked up his staff. “Do not fear, Awoken. The spears of the People will protect you.”

  Michael clenched his fists, and the stonesong roared in his veins. A small hand touched his thigh.

  “Calmly, Awoken,” Warmsoil warned. “The People will not be forced to hear your words. That is the way of the Fallen.”

  Taking notice of the contemplative looks most of the elders were giving him, Michael realized Warmsoil was right. Losing his temper was playing right into Rockspeak’s hands. He needed to try a different approach.

  The wall of silver fire died, and Michael’s eyes returned to normal. “You are right, Rockspeak,” he said evenly. “I am young, and I do need instruction.”

  Rockspeak straightened his shoulders triumphantly. “I am glad, Awoken. The elders can begin your instruction as soon as you renounce this false name ‘Jericho.’”

  Greendown’s face fell. “But Awoken…”

  Warmsoil placed a restraining hand on Greendown’s shoulder. “Let the Awoken bring peace, my brother. It is his choice.”

  “You misunderstand me, Rockspeak,” Michael said. “I do need instruction, but Jericho has earned his name a hundred times over. And neither you nor anyone else will take it away from him.”

  Rockspeak banged the butt of his staff on the floor. “What trickery is this? You must remove the name.”

  “It is his choice, Rockspeak,” Warmsoil interjected. “Let us be done with it. We must be as one if we are to face the Fallen in the tunnels.”

  “The Awoken is not the elder of the spears, Warmsoil,” Rockspeak said coldly. “We know best how to defend our city. And it is at the gates, not the tunnels.”

  Michael’s eyes flickered. “I’d reconsider that tactic, Rockspeak. The gates won’t stop Equinox, and if he gets in the cave, he could bring down the ceiling on top of you. We should face him in the tunnels.”

  A few of the elders murmured their agreement. Far more looked to Rockspeak, awaiting his response.

  “Ignorance,” Rockspeak snarled. “This Awoken is too young to direct the path of the People. The fifth clan will not abide his words.”

  “That ignorant child had wisdom enough to bring himself here, Rockspeak,” Greendown pointed out. “The tenth clan stands with the Awoken.”

  The elders looked to one another uncertainly, and then ancient Redflint stepped forward. “Rockspeak’s spears are the guardians of the gates,” Redflint rasped. “His spears will protect us as they always have. It is plain this child is Awoken, and will be mighty in his time. But it is foolish to trust our fates to one so unschooled in our ways. I am Redflint, and the twelfth clan stands with Rockspeak.”

  Warmsoil’s eyes were sad as he moved forward. “You are old and wise, Redflint,” he said, “but in this you are wrong. Foolishness is to risk the lives of the People over a name. I am Warmsoil, and the seventh clan stands with the Awoken.”

  One by one, the elders proclaimed their allegiance. Of seventeen clans, thirteen joined with Rockspeak. Besides Warmsoil and Greendown, Tallpath, leader of the falcryn riders, and Blacksong, elder of the earthbone workers, sided with Michael.

  His followers in tow, Rockspeak headed for the chamber doors. “You will regret this, my brothers,” he offered in parting. “Together your clans number less than ten score. How many will die if you follow this child into the tunnels?”

  “How many would live should you come with us?” Warmsoil countered.

  Rockspeak’s lips tightened to a thin line, and he left without another word.

  Greendown glared after him, tapping his club against his open palm. “Do not worry, Awoken. We are not spears, but our clans will not fail you.”

  “I know that, Greendown,” Michael said. “Jericho is one of yours, and I’ve seen him fight.”

  Greendown’s chest swelled. “Come, my brothers,” he said to Tallpath and Blacksong. “We must prepare our clans for war.”

  Tallpath and Blacksong bowed to Michael and then followed Greendown from the room.

  “The chisel has been set,” Warmsoil said sadly. He ran his hand along the smooth shaft of his staff, briefly touching the elderstone at its crest. “Rockspeak is not wrong, Awoken. The tunnels are dangerous.”

  Michael sat down on the floor. “Do me a favor, Warmsoil. Call me Michael. All this ‘Awoken’ stuff gets old after a while.” He rubbed his face with his palms. He was so tired. “Equinox has the second waystone, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Warmsoil said. “The People gifted it to the Betrayer when he first awoke. Now he uses his power to draw the earthbone from our home. I do not think you can take it from the Betrayer, Awo…Michael. Even if you could, you have not the training to save your friend.” He sighed heavily. “Darkness is coming. We four will stand with you against it, but our clans are small. Perhaps Rockspeak is right after all. Perhaps it would be wisest to stay close to the gates.”

  “I know most of the elders think I’m wrong, Warmsoil,” Michael said. “But we can’t let Equinox get inside the main cave. I mean, just look at all this.” He knocked on the floor with his knuckles. “There’s so much earthbone down here, I could bring this tower down without breaking a sweat. What do you think Equinox will do if he gets anywhere near this place? The People may be brave, but how long will they fight the Fallen while their city collapses around their women and children?”

  Warmsoil tightened his fingers on his staff. “You believe the Betrayer would do such evil?”

  “You should have heard him talk, Warmsoil. I know he would,” Michael said. “And don’t forget the earthbone. Equinox has pulled the stuff almost to the surface. If we don’t find a way to stop him soon, the whole dang world is going to start mutating.” He leaned his head back against the wall and sighed. “I thought getting here was going to be the hard part. That once I found your city, you guys would fix up Lina and seal away the earthbone, and everything would get back to normal. Now look at me. I’m nothing but an orphan, and I’m planning to save the world all by myself.”

  Warmsoil’s eyes softened. “Be brave, Michael. The heaviest rocks often fall first, but the entire mountain never crumbles.”

  Michael touched the elderstone at his throat and thought of Equinox’s burning, silver gaze. “You’re wrong, Warmsoil. This time, the mountain is crumbling. And it’s coming right at us.”

  40

  Friends No More

  Warmsoil and Michael exited the tower together.

  “I must gather my clan,” Warmsoil said. “The tower will be your dwelling for the time being. It has many rooms, and you may rest or explore the city if you wish. I shall send someone for you soon. We must meet the others at the gate from which
you emerged on the second hour.”

  Michael glanced up at the misty, sunless sky. “I left my watch at home, Warmsoil.”

  “I don’t understand. What did you watch at home, Awoken?”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “Never mind,” he said. “What I mean is that I have no idea what time it is right now. How will I know when it’s the second hour?”

  “Ah,” Warmsoil said. “I must ask your forgiveness, Michael. The People are unaccustomed to visitors.” Turning, he lifted his staff to a starburst-shaped crystal above the tower entrance. The crystal had ten long points, one of which glowed with a faint blue aura. “These are what you must ‘watch’ in the city of the People. It’s an hourstar. When the bottom point glows, it is the first hour. The topmost is the second hour…”

  Michael listened closely as the elder explained the workings of the strange clock until Lina and Jericho walked up the tower steps.

  Jericho bowed low as he approached. “Greetings, Elder Warmsoil. Greetings, Awoken.”

  “Greetings, Jericho,” Warmsoil replied.

  Jericho’s eyes widened, and the elder laughed.

  “Yes, little brother,” Warmsoil said. “Rockspeak worked his hammer and chisel against him, but this new Awoken is not easily broken. You keep your name.”

  “My Michael is a great Awoken,” Jericho said proudly. “This one is pleased to be named by him.”

  “I,” Warmsoil corrected. “I am pleased to be named by him. You must learn these things if you would honor your name.”

  Jericho bobbed his head. “As you say, Elder. This one…I will learn.”

  “I have no doubt, little brother.” Warmsoil smiled and turned to Lina. “Do you know the bond, little sister?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lina said. “Jericho has been trying to explain it, but it’s very confusing.”

  Warmsoil nodded. “The bond is upon you, little sister, but it is incomplete. Your flesh is not fully become.”

  “What bond are you two talking about?” Michael asked. “Does it have something to do with the way Lina’s been talking lately?”