Secrets Bound By Sand

by T. A. White

  Ahead, she saw Ryu and the other two regarding the dunes with similar disbelief.

  Tate shook out her head covering, dislodging some of the sand. It was good to be able to breathe again.

  A small stream of sand cascaded down the dune next to her. Tate followed its track midway up the slope.

  A figure stood there, no taller than she, their fox mask not quite hiding their mutual surprise at Tate’s sudden appearance. Their sand-colored, loose flowing shirt and pants almost blended in with the dune, which would explain how they’d gotten so close without anyone noticing.

  They studied each other, neither moving.

  Another person crested the dune above their group. It broke through Tate's daze.

  "Ryu!" Tate screamed, dashing forward.

  The person wearing the fox mask bounded down the slope in long leaps as Tate struggled through the loose sand, cursing the speed it cost her.

  Tate sped toward Ryu. "Run!"

  Several more of the Morain poured over the top of the dune. Tate counted five of them in a brief glance back, all she could spare before she faced forward and reached for every inch of speed.

  Christopher and Peter sprinted for the other dune's slope and scrambled up it, the Silva dragging the human forward when Christopher would have fallen.

  Ryu waited until Tate passed him before following, his focus on those hunting them.

  She wanted to curse him for waiting for her, but couldn't spare the necessary breath. There would be time for that later, when they weren't being chased by people wearing masks.

  For now, she struggled up the dune after Peter and Christopher.

  Ryu's hand on her back steadied her when she would have lost her balance and slipped.

  They crested the dune in the next second. A quick glance behind showed their pursuers gaining on them. They didn't seem to have as much trouble with the soft ground, racing over it with almost inhuman speed.

  Tate threw herself over the other side of the dune, sliding down it rather than running, sheets of sand following her. Ryu was right behind her, his face tight and focused.

  They hit the base of the dune, Christopher and Peter halfway across the small slope to the next. There was a sharp cry as Peter yanked Christopher back, the two tumbling back down the dune.

  Tate saw why seconds later as the sand bulged, its surface rippling as if something swam through the grains.

  "What is that?" Tate gasped.

  Ryu shoved her to the right. "Let's not stick around to find out."

  Tate didn't waste breath on further remarks, racing down the sandy valley as Peter hauled Christopher to his feet and the two pelted after them.

  Tate's heart was in her throat as she noticed more than one bulge snaking along the dune's slope in their wake. Her gaze caught near the top as five other bulges raced down the side of the dune to join the two already chasing them.

  There was a yip as three of the Morain slid down the dune to their right.

  Tate struggled for more speed. Her body was reluctant to obey after the toll she'd already placed on it.

  Just a little further. Stay with it.

  Tate refused to stop until her heart burst or something brought her down.

  Ryu's breathing was as labored as hers as they reached the end of the dune, swerving around it to sprint for the flat piece of ground ahead of them. She could see the cliffs in the distance, their tall figures taunting her.

  The Morain shadowed them over the sand, silent pursuers in their odd little masks.

  They had sensed their prey's exhaustion and anticipated the end of the hunt.

  A creature burst out of the sand. She only caught the briefest glimpse of a long snout with sharp teeth along with thin legs and fins meant for pushing it through the dune's depths, before it levered itself onto its many legs and began scurrying after them, faster than Tate thought possible.

  Tate cursed. They just couldn't catch a break.

  She cried out as her leg sunk to mid-thigh in the sand. Ryu made it two steps past her before whipping back.

  "Run," she told him. She couldn’t move. The sand was pulling her under. She'd already sunk to her waist and was sinking further.

  He snarled. "Don't be daft."

  Sharp cries from Christopher and Peter told her they weren't the only ones who'd fallen afoul of this newest danger.

  She craned her head, checking on their pursuers. They were too close. Ryu wouldn't be able to pull her out before they reached them.

  "Ryu, go."

  "I'm not leaving you," he growled at her.

  She didn't have time to rail at him as another sand creature bounded out of the sand next to them, its mouth open wide at the promise of a meal. There was a sharp sound and then metal sprouted from the side of its face.

  The sand creature hit the ground, dead.

  Tate caught sight of one of the Morain's arms dropping to their side, a crossbow held in their hand.

  The sand shifted again and Tate sucked in a breath to call a warning. Too late, as the sand erupted next to Ryu, a red blur tackling him.

  Ryu hit the sand next to her and sank into its depths as easily as if it were water. Tate screamed in denial as he disappeared. There was no thrashing, no struggle as the sand churned. Just nothing.

  She stared at the place he'd disappeared, aware of the Morain racing toward her.

  "Give me your hand," a woman said. The mask muffled her voice but Tate thought she recognized it.

  Tate looked up to find the woman on her stomach, her hand outstretched. Tate didn't move.

  "Tate, you're sinking too fast. There isn't much time."

  Tate became aware of the sand at her chest, inching ever higher. The woman was right. Tate had seconds until the she sunk past her head.

  She made her decision right then, taking a deep breath before letting her muscles go lax, no longer fighting the pull of the sand.

  "Tate," the woman screamed as Tate disappeared beneath its surface.

  *

  Tate's lungs burned as she continued to sink. Her feet bumped a hard surface and then suddenly the world whirled, her head spinning as the area seemed to reorient itself around her.

  She opened her eyes to find the sand she'd been sinking into gone.

  So were the high dunes. In their place a glassy surface stretched far into the distance. Its depths were unfathomable, a blue so dark it appeared black, even at the depth she could see beneath the surface, Tate thought she caught hints of movement.

  The glass was utterly flat, like a mirror. Tate caught the smallest blur of a reflection moving across it.

  "What in the abyss just happened?" Christopher asked groggily, sitting up several feet from Tate.

  Peter groaned as he pushed himself upright.

  "Ryu!" Tate shouted, spotting the motionless sand creature where it lay to her right.

  She slid to her knees next to it, jerking its body up as Ryu helped her push its dead carcass off of him.

  Wounds dotted its chest and Tate thought she caught the smell of burnt flesh before Ryu shifted and winced.

  Blood dotted his shirt and torso.

  "I'm fine," he said as she started patting him, a feeling of helplessness welling up inside.

  Her hands went from patting to fists. She punched him in the shoulder. "I told you to run, you stupid man."

  He grabbed her hands and pulled her into him. Tate found herself in a fierce hug. "Such a hypocrite."

  "Damn right," Tate grumbled.

  She didn't even care what it said about her, that she had no problem risking her own life but hated when others did the same.

  "Where are we?" Christopher asked, his footsteps echoing slightly on the hard surface.

  Ryu let Tate draw back as they took in their surroundings.

  She helped him rise, all too aware of the slight grimace as he found his feet. She pressed her lips together to refrain from verbalizing the sharp words she wanted to say about the stupidity of taking the creature on with h
is bare hands.

  "It's the Lake of Memories," Peter said, awe on his face as he took in the glass lake.

  "You know this place?" Tate asked.

  She didn't see any sign of their pursuers, which meant they'd lost them. It was a silver lining in an otherwise shitty situation. She didn't like the look of this place or the fact they'd found it at the bottom of a sand pit.

  Power welled deep beneath her feet, brushing along her skin and whispering across her senses.

  Whatever Peter might call it, Tate knew it for what it really was. A construct left behind by the ancients.

  While they were no longer being pursued by the sand creatures or the Morain, that didn't mean they were safe. The ancient's constructs tended to be a little hard on their visitors and more often than not required a steep price.

  "Do you know its purpose?" Tate asked.

  "Exactly what its name suggests. Reveal your deepest, most secret memories and it will judge your worthiness by them," he said.

  She'd have to pass on that. Even though she didn't have access to her deepest memories, she had no intention of sharing them with this construct or on being judged by them.

  "Ryu, I know what I said about your dragon, but I take it back," Tate said.

  Times were desperate. She was willing to risk his dragon's wrath if it meant escaping this place.

  Her instincts whispered of danger, and she had no intention of facing her past like this.

  Strain chased across Ryu's face. "I've been trying, but it's not working. Something is preventing me from calling my dragon forth."

  She blinked, not liking the sound of that. It was one thing to be cut off from Ilith, but Ryu’s dragon too?

  She took a deep breath, pushing down the worry.

  Christopher shook his head, the motion becoming frantic as he backed away. "No, I'm not doing it. This isn't happening."

  Hysteria was rising as his hands lifted, his fingers burying themselves in his hair as he rocked back and forth.

  "Christopher, calm down," Tate started.

  He didn't listen, mumbling to himself as he pulled harder at his hair.

  "What's wrong with him?" she asked Peter.

  The Silva shook his head regretfully. "He's encountered a device like this before. It left his mind broken."

  Christopher was beyond them as he sank deep into a hell of his own making, his eyes no longer seeing, as he started laughing and muttering to himself.

  "We need to get moving," Ryu said, not taking his eyes off the mad heretic. "The longer we linger, the more danger we're in."

  "We can't leave him," Tate stated firmly. She might not like or trust Christopher, but she wouldn't abandon anyone to the dubious mercy of this place.

  Frustration and resignation chased across Ryu's face. He knew better than most how stubborn Tate could be once she'd decided on a course. There were some lines she refused to cross. This was one of them.

  "You take one side; I'll take the other," Ryu told Peter.

  Tate kept an eye out as they coaxed Christopher between them. Ryu's hands were incredibly gentle as he took Christopher's hand and untangled it from his hair before looping his arm with Christopher's.

  When the two had Christopher pinned between them, Ryu nodded at Tate. She took point as they started across the surface of the lake.

  "Do you know where we're going?" Peter asked.

  The sound of their footsteps clattered dully against the glass as they walked.

  "Not a clue, but staying still won't get us out of here any faster." And it might just make it easier for whatever or whoever had drawn them to this place to hunt them, she finished silently.

  The glass lake stretched as far as the eye could see. Flat. Dark. It was unsettling moving across it. She called it a lake because that's what it resembled. She half expected them to drop into its depths at any moment and wasn't sure it was a good thing when they remained on its surface.

  Tate glanced above them, expecting to see what, she didn't know. Sand, maybe? Rock?

  What she got instead was an alien sky. The color was surreal, at once muted yet so vivid it hurt the eyes. Clouds tinted violet and pink moved across a sky that at times seemed a deep purple and blue, brilliantly complementing the starry depths of the lake. In the distance, Tate thought she made out the very barest hint of mountains cradling the lake.

  They passed glass sculptures caught in a variety of poses. Some stood straight, their expressions defiant. Others huddled in on themselves as if by making themselves smaller they might protect themselves from whatever was coming.

  Even their clothing varied. Some wore clothes similar to Tate's. Others wore a scrap of cloth around their waist. The only thing they had in common was they were all Silva.

  "Do you hear that?" Tate asked.

  There was the faintest chime as they passed a statue, its face caught in a moment of pain as it stared at a scene only it could see. At first, Tate had thought she was imagining the faint note, but this was the third time she'd heard it.

  "Yes," Ryu said after a pause.

  "Where is it coming from?" she asked.

  There was no wind, nothing that could explain the faint chime.

  She reached out and flicked the glass statue, unsurprised when a low tone rolled through the air, even the lake beneath their feet thrummed with it.

  Christopher whimpered, shrinking in on himself.

  Peter hissed. "It would be unwise to wake the one who guards this place."

  Tate didn't say anything as the three kept moving, remaining behind to study the glass statue. Peter had a point, but she was unable to shake the feeling the notes might be important.

  This part of the lake was littered with statues, forcing them to weave around them to avoid contact. As the other three passed another statue, the note changed.

  Tate frowned and reached out to the statue in front of her. A clear, sweet note chimed. When she took her hand away, it faded.

  Tate didn't know what it meant, but before she could investigate further Peter called, "You don't want to get separated from us here. Unless you want to face your darkest self on your own."

  He had a point, loath as Tate was to admit it. Whatever had drawn them here likely had an agenda. Since she tended to set off these kinds of traps simply by existing, it would be wise to stick close to the others. If only so she wouldn't have to face whatever resided in the depths of the lake alone.

  Tate jogged toward Ryu and the others, noting idly how the notes changed as she passed statue after statue.

  "It's the same three notes," Ryu said, his head cocked as he listened.

  Tate slowed, moving with precision past the statues, letting herself stray close on occasion and listening to how the tones changed. "You're right."

  It felt important, but she didn't know how. The notes niggled at the back of her brain, tantalizingly familiar but strange at the same time, like the echo of a ghost memory.

  "Let's keep moving," Ryu said. "I'm sure we'll figure out its significance soon enough."

  Tate sighed and nodded. He had a point. She had a feeling something important was missing from the notes. This was just the beginning of the Silva's trials. They still had an unknown distance to cross. Better to focus on escape than to get sidetracked on a puzzle she wasn't even sure was a puzzle—especially since this place made her uneasy.

  "My little treasure, why do you hide there?" a woman asked teasingly. The laugh that followed sounded like bells as the blood drained from Ryu's face.

  Devastation settled on his features, a pain so raw and poignant it was hard to look at.

  She didn't have to guess as to the owner of the laugh. Ryu's reaction was answer enough.

  His mother's voice echoed around them as it scolded, "Ryuji, answer me. You know I don't like it when you ignore me."

  A small sound escaped Ryu as his face twisted. He let go of Christopher and stepped forward, yearning and agony fighting for dominance.

  "We used to play hide and seek,"
he whispered. "She always lost and ended up mad because she couldn't find me."

  Tate took a step closer, his pain drawing her. She wished she could take it away, could change the outcome of what she knew was coming, but his mother and the rest of his family had been dead for centuries and no amount of wishing would change that.

  "Brother Ryu, Mama wants you to take me to town," a young girl said, her voice echoing from everywhere.

  Below them, the faint image of a girl rippled through the glass, her eyes wide and innocent, identical to Ryu's, right down to their vivid blue.

  Ryu had gone still, his limbs rigid, his expression brittle as he watched the young girl clasp her hands behind her back and give him an expectant look. When she'd been alive, that innocence and those blue eyes would have been hard to ignore.

  Horror coated Tate's insides. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, and it was nowhere they wanted to go. Because she knew how this story ended—in fire and blood with Ryu a ravening beast.

  Tate caught Ryu's face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. "It isn't real. None of this is real."

  Wild madness filled his eyes, crazed desperation twisted his features. The yearning to go to them was strong despite the knowledge this was no more substantial than a dream.

  "Tell me about them," Tate said. She needed to distract him or else risk losing him. "What were they like?"

  She knew their fate, but Ryu had shared little of the family he'd lost.

  The blood lust she sensed in him surged and for a moment she thought he was lost, that this place would claim him. She knew on a fundamental level if that happened, she wouldn't get him back, that he would remain lost, tormented by his memories and the people he thought he'd failed.

  She dug her fingernails into his skin, forgetting about Christopher and Peter, focused entirely on not losing Ryu.

  "What were their names?" She'd start with something simple.

  The rage building behind his eyes paused as her words tugged on the threads of remembrance that were all too often forgotten due to the tragic way their lives had ended.

  "Emma." The word was so faint Tate had to struggle to hear.

  "Emma. Good. Is that your sister or mother?" Tate asked.

  "Sister."