Wolves of the Tesseract Collection

by Christopher D Schmitz

  Zabe nodded. “You can keep us safe—guide us home?”

  “I hope so,” she said, turning just as Akko Soggathoth and his pet approached. The goatman reached out and stuck his hand into the fissure; he and his abyssal auraphage disappeared.

  ***

  A young soldier rushed over to the table once Wulftone beckoned him. Wulftone didn’t recognize the recruit meaning he must’ve been either fresh from training or still in it.

  “What is it—urgent news?”

  Nodding, he said, “You should head for the hospital right away, sir!”

  Wulftone looked to Jackie, beckoning an invitation with his eyes in case she wanted to join him. They both stood and considered boxing the food while the messenger continued.

  “Survivors just came back from the other expedition. Just the three survivors.”

  “Zabe, Claire, and who else?”

  The soldier looked at him coldly. “No, sir. Neither Zabe nor Claire were with them.”

  Wulftone and Jackie ran out and headed directly to the hospital. They burst through the emergency unit’s doors. The nurses, recognizing one of the more well-known officers under Zabe, pointed the way.

  He peeled back the curtain and found the doctors working on the soldiers—all men who he’d been proud to have trained.

  Wulftone’s face fell at the sight of the severe injuries; something had gone gravely wrong for the Mexico City team. As informed, Claire and Zabe were not among them.

  Chira sat back in a chair, charred and singed; despite his bubbled and peeling skin, Chira's injuries looked the least severe. Nearby, a group of doctors worked to remove the spear that had impaled Jenner. At the adjacent bed, a nurse finished bandaging the stump leg of a soldier who'd been nearly mummified with wraps that still soaked through with blood.

  Wulftone looked at the bandaged soldier and then at Chira who briefed him. “It’s Yardi under all that gauze. He was attacked by some kind of beast before they got to the portal. I found him bleeding out in the trees next to Jenner.”

  He looked at youngest of the survivors who had been skewered. “Is he…”

  “They’ve sedated Jenner, but he was alive when I found him,” Chira informed him. “They promise he’ll pull through as long as they don’t find any surprises. I think he’ll be fine given what we went through to get back to the portal—he’s a tough kid.”

  “Zabe and Claire?” he asked.

  Chira shrugged. He had no knowledge.

  Jackie could only stare at the trio incredulously. Wulftone noticed the pain welling up in her eyes and knew that she couldn't take the loss of her best friend right now. He squeezed her hand. "I'm sure they're fine," he reassured her.

  Chira stood on uneasy legs and walked with them to clear the room and let the doctors work. More importantly, they could speak more openly and not risk outing confidential information. He accompanied Wulftone and Jackie to a conference room where Tay-lore waited with Claire’s father, Shandra, Respan, and Trenzlr.

  Wulftone eyed the last two suspiciously since he knew that they had some kind of security breach. He shook off his initial suspicion. At this point he didn’t care—they’d have to deal with the information leak later when there was time to dedicate to the problem.

  Sam Jones paced the room anxiously while Chira gave his account of the events. He’d made up lost time too late as he drew off an abyssal auraphage from his strike team and not been able to get close enough by the time the rockets had begun tearing apart the Island of the Dolls. Chira suspected that Zabe and Claire lived because he arrived in time to watch Murdo and Tahnak charge towards the enemy. He also guessed that Caivev might’ve perished in the destruction; Chira hadn’t been able to spot any sign of escapees from the island and didn’t see an energy gates, but admitted his report might be mere wishful thinking.

  "I don't know what else would inspire Murdo and Tahnak with enough courage to throw themselves into such a battle except for defense of our Princess." He explained that he stumbled upon the others while doubling back the way they'd come. And dragged them to safety.

  Shandra, who looked only a little worse for wear, thumbed her chin as she listened. “You didn’t actually see them, though?”

  Chira frowned, admitting he had not.

  “I have run some scans,” Tay-lore said. “Princess Claire’s, uh, uniquely dualistic makeup makes her something I am able to search for. She possesses a specific energy signature. I can confirm that she is not on earth.”

  Sam turned to his robotic friend hopefully. “Is she maybe in some other dimension—maybe she planeswalked?”

  “I am sorry. I too had hoped. She is not… anywhere.”

  A long, uncomfortable silence hung between them.

  “Are you telling me that she is… dead?” Sam nearly puked the offending words as they fell from his lips. “No. That simply can’t be.” He looked around the room, but nobody would meet his gaze.

  Shandra stood and tried to slip away.

  “Where are you going?” Wulftone asked. Everyone perked up optimistically, hoping she had good news.

  “I have a theory about why we cannot detect her, but I must consult with the head of the Veritas on it.”

  “You think she might live?”

  Shandra measuredly nodded, wanting to give them hope—but not unrealistically so. She slipped past the doors and Trenzlr caught up with her in the hall.

  “I know what you suspect,” he claimed. “But if you think she’s in the Darque then we should pray to Maetha that death has found her instead.”

  “What do you know of the Darque?” They spoke in hushed tones.

  “More than the average follower of the Devourer—the rovers still follow the old ways. We don’t know all, but we still remember some things about the land that spawned us.”

  Shandra raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

  “An ancient myth, long forgotten by most of our people, tells of the exodus to Edenya—what is now Basilisk’s Desolation. The Darquelands were our ancient home before they became so broken by the unleashing of the seven demigods who became known as the Brothers of the Winnowing after the post-exilic renaissance of old vyrm lore. My people forgot that they initially fled to Edenya because of them and their building of the Nihil Bridge, an engine to open a door into the vast nothingness. The Tesseract may have accepted we vyrm and bound us to the fate of its dwellers, but I would not enter the Darque for any reason.”

  The cleric clapped Trenzlr on the shoulder. "The line of the Architect King cannot go unbroken, such has been prophesied," she said. "So for all our sakes, I hope that you are wrong."

  Trenzlr bobbed his scaly head. “I will pray that it is so.”

  Shandra bid him farewell and left for the Order’s monastery with as much speed as she could muster.

  ***

  The guards at the monastery gate stepped aside and let Shandra pass when they recognized her. She walked with purpose and nobility that defied the wounds her face bore after her recent kidnapping.

  Shandra passed the outer cloister where a collection of battered tents remained. Even after several years, many of those who sought protection from the Order of the Veritas during the vyrm invasion had chosen to remain. The tranquility offered within their grounds brought an inner peace that so many yearned for. But Shandra’s heart brimmed with anything but.

  Beyond the public cloister of the old grounds she went through the postern where another set of sentries stood—these ones kept out all but members of the Veritas. They nodded and granted her access.

  Hurrying past the barracks wing, Shandra entertained returning to her cell and changing into something more clean and proper—but decided against it. Time was imperative; she turned back to the main path and made for the Chamber Superior, where the head of the Order would be found.

  Shandra walked past the silent monk Pollando who smiled at her, himself likely returning from a meeting with him. She arrived at the d
oor and removed her weapon, which Sam Jones had been kind enough to return. Shandra rested the battle hammer on the floor near the doorjamb and then stepped through the entry.

  The High Cleric turned and greeted her as she entered. “Shandra! Good to see that you have returned safely from your trials.”

  She bowed. “Shjikara,” she stated tensely. Their relationship had not been entanglement free and they disagreed frequently. “I’ve come on an errand of some urgency.”

  Shjikara cocked his head with intrigue, bulging up one of his jowls. While not yet corpulent, The High Cleric exercised less self-control than the rest of the Order—a general point of contention Shandra had battled him over before. Two decades her superior, he’d never actually entertained her concerns and merely written her off as a divisive trouble-maker.

  “What exactly are you looking for?”

  “I need help locating the Princess and her protector.”

  Shjikara’s smile gleamed with pride. “I thought that surely the android’s science could find your lost princess?” He spoke almost disdainfully of Tay-lore; the last of his kind, the machine race once threatened the Prime almost as much as the vyrm and Shjikara grew up in the aftermath of that conflict.

  Shandra bit her lip. “He tried. We even know Claire’s unique energy print, but we could not locate her or Zabe on any plane of the Tesseract.”

  The High Cleric leaned forward. His eyes bulged slightly and then rolled with disappointment. Shjikara muttered something under his breath about Zabe’s recklessness and the potential danger of a lycan running around with such a powerful artifact weapon. “I certainly hope it has not been lost to us forever,” he murmured to himself and then reiterated his position to Shandra. “All artifacts ought to be locked within the Chamber of Secrets—especially the Stone Glaive.”

  She kept a straight face and stuffed her desire to slap the man deep down. He was a trained psychic after all.

  “Did you seek Pollando’s assistance?”

  “I came to you straight away. I needed to bring this to the top of command… I fear that the Princess is no longer bound by our existence.”

  Shjikara glanced at her and then quickly hid the expression that crept onto his face; Shandra didn’t have to be a psychic to read his mind. His ambition was unmistakable and Shandra had long suspected that Shjikara would readily assume the throne if it vacated without an heir—prophecy aside. She had to trust that he still abided by principles that bound the Veritas and would serve and honor the daughter of the Architect King enough to lend his skills for her aid.

  He grimaced slightly, guessing that she’d noticed his covetous transgression. “Let me reach out to her.” Shjikara sat upon a plush stool and stretched out with his astral senses. He stood a few moments later and frowned.

  “Did you find her?”

  “You know when there is a scent on the wind that you can’t quite identify?”

  Shandra nodded and her superior rummaged in a nearby alcove. He took out an ornate box which shimmered with gilded craftsmanship and returned to his seat.

  “It’s like that. She must be alive—but she exists nowhere. This artifact will amplify my power.”

  He went silent and stretched out again while holding the box. Shandra watched him, trying not to acknowledge his hypocrisy concerning the artifacts lest he pick those thoughts up in the astral realm while he searched for Claire.

  Shjikara's eyes opened and he put the box away. “She lives but is definitely outside the purview of the Tesseract. I can sense her aura like a shadow—like a trickle of water leaking in through a crack from somewhere beyond.”

  Shandra looked at him one last time. “She is in the Darque?”

  Shjikara nodded. “I know not how she can return—especially with Zabe’s presence—the line of Vangandra is tied to the Darque and it will not easily relinquish its own. The land itself will try to keep them.” He looked into Shandra’s eyes and instantly knew all about the struggle against Akko Soggathoth. Shjikara blanched. “You must stop this next great evil from awakening at all costs!”

  Slinking down into his seat his thoughts were suddenly flung far off. “The brothers and sisters of the Veritas will pray for your success. If you fail, it will be the last time we ever do.”

  The terror in his eyes shook Shandra to her core. She’d never seen him like that before. Gone was his posturing and ambition—something genuinely rattled the High Priest to his core.

  Shandra nodded, and then turned and left with all haste.

  Chapter 16

  “Your brother Vylar has served me well,” Basilisk said as he wandered through his statue garden. Like all of the evolved tarkhūn, the vyrm with special powers, his conversation partner was related to a specific bloodline. “And don’t think that I have forgotten the time you served in my garden here, as all shades do for a time.”

  Seykarr nodded vigorously. He knew of his brother’s extreme sacrifice for the sake of such deep cover, and without the promise of ever gaining release from his commission. “I live and die in your service,” he hissed.

  Basilisk smiled a broad, toothy grin. The shades were perhaps the most loyal amongst all his vyrm.

  “There is an earth-man who has long since been asleep. His spirit was broken when my brother tried to awaken the master long ago.” He handed Seykarr a ceremonial knife. “Study him. Learn to be who he was before his injury—and then replace him. You know what to do. There may come a time when I need you—but for now, you will be Andrew Thornton.”

  Seykarr grinned. He’d always wanted such a high appointment.

  The shade bowed low. “It will be done, my lord.”

  ***

  Caivev and Skrom stared hatefully at their enemies opposite them. Such a seemingly insignificant distance and only a thin pane of crystal separated them. The deaths of the troops that touched the crack left them momentarily surprised.

  Akko Soggathoth returned from a nearby black monolith which had been his earlier priority. The cosmic fissure had belched him out a hundred meters away where it passed by the ebon spire.

  He seemed amused as he approached the barrier. For a moment, Caivev thought that the goatman might either break the wall down or pass right through it. She felt certain that he could’ve done either and the demon seemed somehow more powerful in this realm.

  “My brother is almost as ambitious as myself,” he said, beckoning for his pet. The abyssal creature trotted over to him, not seeming to sense the enemies opposite the clear wall. “I must not allow him any space to entertain thoughts of usurping my authority in matters of the Awakening.”

  “Let us kill the princess and be done with it,” Skrom called out.

  Akko Soggathoth shot her a sidelong look. “And be done with the game so soon?”

  “Then where do we go from here?” Caivev asked.

  The beast grinned. "Don't you humans have a saying, ‘the journey is half the fun or something like that?"

  She glared daggers at him.

  “There’s always a back door. I’m sure you’ll figure one out.” He made a show of counting the lesser beings he’d allied with. “I’m sure that at least some of you will survive. I only know how I’m leaving.” Akko Soggathoth reached into the crack again and winked out of existence with his pet and broken tome.

  Skrom stared. This time, the beasts did not pop back into existence nearest the dark obelisk where Akko Soggathoth’s brother had been bound. “Did… did he?”

  “No,” Caivev guessed his thoughts—that the insane beast might’ve been self-destructive. “He’s somehow using the crack to teleport, or maybe squeezed through it like it were some kind of a travel conduit.”

  Three scouts returned, out of breath from their sprints. Caivev had dispatched them immediately after entering the Darque.

  “You were right,” the first reported. “It looks like we are ion an identical version of the Earth realm… just one fallen and broken by the madness—an
d somehow mirrored. Everything is in reverse.”

  Caivev tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Then it stands to reason that we know exactly where our exit points will be.”

  “Other Darquegates?” Skrom asked. “How will they open from the other side? We don’t have any way to force a portal open from here.”

  She bit her lip. “No. But we know where doors must open next, don’t we?” The knowledge didn’t make the route any easier and she wished Walther’s machine had proven capable of tearing a hole through the fabric of the Darque.

  Skrom nodded his understanding. He dispatched half of their number to head for their Central American lair. From within the Darque, it would be the Temple of Kith, which would have to open sometime in the future.

  Splitting their number meant the best odds of finding someone who could dispatch a rescue party. He turned back to find his lady staring at the ten-foot-tall, black obelisk where Akko Soggathoth had retrieved his prize.

  Obsidian shackles hung from their eyelets where they’d bound Akko Skoldagrath for unknown millennia.

  “One more obelisk remains,” Caivev said. “We’ve got to make it to Akko Sxkakzacros before the gate is closed, trapping us here forever.”

  She glanced at the sky. The sun moved across it at a brisk pace, but in the wrong direction. “If such a thing as time even exists in this dimension,” she muttered.

  ***

  Zabe put a hand on Claire’s shoulder. Tahnak joined them and they watched the vyrm party split ranks, heading in opposite directions.

  “They must know something,” Tahnak said.

  “Or they think they do,” Zabe corrected. He looked at Claire, hoping Bithia’s knowledge would help them find a way out.

  Claire shrugged when both men looked at her. "Let's start heading that way," she picked a random direction and they walked. Before long they realized that the layout was similar to that of Earth, except reversed. Odd, spirit creatures meandered of their own accord—they appeared like shadowy smudges in the air—similar to a pulsing swarm of gnats in the heat. She couldn't determine if the things were alive, dead, or something entirely other.