by Kyle West
Seeing so much open, blue sky was a welcome sight. The air was cool, but not too cool, because the sun was warming the crisp air with its own heat. We crossed the valley in an hour, a distance that, if forested, would have taken us the better part of a day. We had to go back into the trees in the end, but I was thankful for any break in what had become the hard work of travel.
Fortunately, this seemed to be a different kind of forest than what we had gone through in the Dagger Peaks. The trees were taller, for one, and more widely spaced. A great many of the trees, the tallest ones, were Silverwoods, almost as tall as the ones in the Sanctum's Grove. Their sweet, familiar scent made me miss the place and everyone I had left behind. I was amazed by how many there were – we must have passed hundreds as we wove our way east. Isaru looked up from time to time, as if he expected there to be something in the boughs above. Indeed, from how wide and strong they looked, there could be someone living up there. Maybe it was wise to keep an eye out in all directions.
“The Northwood,” Isaru said. “Once we’re past this, Northold and the Pilgrimage Road shouldn’t be far.”
In time, the land became a bit rougher, though the spread of xen and widely spaced trees still meant it was far easier travel than the Dagger Peaks had been. We must have been entering those hills I’d spied hours earlier. Rocks rose from the xen, along with high bluffs that were thickly forested. We often saw signs of animal life – scat from something that could have been a bear, though there were no tracks left behind. Plenty of birds’ nests were placed high on the rocks, and more of those strange, quilled creatures could be seen, though I didn’t see any more in a tree.
“What are those, anyway?” I asked. I had never told Isaru about the one I had shot.
“That would be a porcupine.”
“Are they common in the Red Wild?”
Isaru laughed. “They’re just about everywhere. You can eat them, but they grow those spines for a reason.”
As morning passed into afternoon, the sunshine went away, replaced by a cold wind coupled with dismal, gray clouds. It was early April, so by my estimation, it should have been much warmer. However, we were further north and higher in elevation than what I was used to.
Either way, it made me draw my cloak tighter. And I also got the sense that something else had changed. It took me a couple of minutes to realize that the forest was completely silent. The trees, once tall and lofty, had become shorter, more twisted, and closer together. The gloomy feeling, however, seemed to go beyond the trees, which were now forming an almost impenetrable canopy. If it were night, or even evening, it would be pitch black. The light was dim, even if it was midafternoon, and it was impossible to see into the deeper shadows. The air was still cold, and the wind completely died.
It should have been hard to travel, only we were following a trail of some sort. It was thin and overgrown, but it was a trail.
The only question was, where was it leading?
“This might be it,” Isaru said. “Only I didn’t expect to come upon it so soon.”
If this was the Pilgrimage Road, I could hardly believe it. But we followed it, nonetheless, mostly because there was nowhere else to go. The trees grew even thicker here than in the Dagger Peaks, and even with our katanas, blazing a trail would be far slower, if not totally impossible. There was no break in the treetops, so it was impossible to tell which way we were going.
All we could do was follow the trail and hope that it came to an end somewhere – hopefully with an end to this forest as well, or perhaps the welcome sight of the gates of Northold.
It didn’t do either of those things, however. We rounded one of its many bends to find ourselves face to face with a cliff which had to be over a hundred feet high. Looking up, there was no way to climb it.
“Dead end,” I said.
“Look...”
I followed Isaru’s finger to see thick ivy covering part of the rock – ivy which crawled all the way up to the top of the cliff.
“No way we’re climbing that,” I said.
“No. Behind it.”
I looked harder, and despite the dimness, I could see something shimmering behind the thick growth. It was silvery and metallic.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Let’s find out.”
Isaru walked forward, unsheathing his blade and carefully cutting away the vines. They were tough, likely having grown there for years and years without challenge. Little by little, however, more of the metal was revealed. I could see that it was smooth, obviously artificial. I helped Isaru clear the vines, until a heaping pile of them were gathered at our feet.
We cleared as much as we could, until all that was left was smooth steel built right into the face of the cliff. Something tickled my memory about that, as if I had seen it before.
There were still some leaves and vines plastered onto that door. Wait...how did I know it was a door?
I walked forward, clearing them, before two numbers were revealed:
36.
“It’s shaped like a circle,” Isaru said. “A circle of metal built into a cliff in the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s not just metal,” I said. “It’s a door.”
Isaru looked at me, frowning. “A door? There’s no way to open it.”
I pointed. “Look. Those vines are still covering the right side. If they were cut away, we might be able to open it.”
Isaru nodded, seeing what I meant. “It could be a tunnel. I never read about the Pilgrimage Road going through a tunnel, but maybe I just missed that bit.”
Immediately, I knew that was wrong, but I didn’t correct him. Isaru and I got to work cutting the rest of the vines that stubbornly clung to the door. As they were cut through, they loosened their hold, to the point where I could clearly see that there was some space between the door and the cliff face. It was already open, if only a crack.
If we cleared it some more, it might even be possible to enter. Somehow, though, that gave me a bad feeling. Still, I was curious...more about the feeling it was evoking in me, similar to déjà vu, but even more familiar than that, as if I actually had a memory of this place.
Myself, or Anna?
The air, if anything, seemed to be getting colder, probably because the forest was darkening.
“We’ll check it out tomorrow,” I said. “It’s too late now.”
Isaru frowned, seeming to be disappointed. “I was hoping to explore a bit. If it is a tunnel, it could mark the end of this terrible forest. We could be out on the other side within the hour.”
“It’s not a tunnel. It’s a lot older than that. Besides, it’s dark, and if we don’t get a fire going now, we probably won’t ever get one going.”
“A fire, I agree with. But after we build one, we still need to check it out inside and make sure nothing is amiss. It might have been better to leave it closed.”
I didn’t like it, but Isaru did have a point.
“As long as we don’t go in too far.”
Isaru reached into his pack and pulled out the crude torch he had fashioned a few days earlier.
It was hard, but Isaru managed to get a fire going. A lot of the wood and kindling in the area was damp, and after half an hour, I was starting to believe nothing would ever light. Finally, Isaru struck a pitiful flame, which he nursed and built until it was a blaze. Despite its size, however, it didn’t seem to do much to push back the darkness.
He next lit his torch, and with that, I knew that within moments, we were going to be inside this place that gave me such a bad feeling.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
WE MADE SURE THE FIRE was large enough to stay burning for the hour or so we planned to be gone. I let Isaru know, under no circumstances, was this excursion to be longer than an hour.
Isaru was first, squeezing past what was left of the vines to the open door. He held the torch in, taking a good, long look.
At last, I couldn’t stand it. “What do you see?”
It
was a long moment before Isaru answered. “I don’t know. More metal, I guess.”
I came forward. “Let me see.”
I sidled beside him and peered inside. Isaru was right; there was not much to see besides a metal floor. The opening was just small enough for me to squeeze through, so I turned sideways and did so. I reached back outside.
“Hand me that torch.”
Isaru complied, and I held it out in front of me to get a good look. Metal made up the floors, the walls, and the ceiling – and this place seemed to be more of a room than a tunnel. In fact, I didn’t know how to describe it. It was like no room I’d ever seen. There were numbers on the walls, and words I couldn’t read.
Isaru followed after me, not complaining that I was taking the lead. Not that he ever did when the occasion arose, but I was glad to let Isaru lead in general since he knew more about the land than I did. Here, though, it seemed as if I knew more than he did, even if I wasn’t exactly sure why.
I walked forward, my boots clanging on the metal below. Even the air was acrid and sharp with its scent.
“We should find something to prop that door open,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to get shut in here.”
Isaru rushed to do that while I turned back around. I walked closer to the wall, to see if I could make out any of the words. I raised my torch until a placard was illuminated, one with strange symbols and words I didn’t understand.
“English,” I said. “Isaru, can you come here?”
Even if I’d had my moments of perfect understanding, that moment wasn’t now. Isaru was much better at reading English.
“Just give me a minute,” he said, irritated. He grumbled something, but within a moment, he had made his way back and stood beside me. He scrutinized the words.
“Evacuation procedure. Twist wheel and push out to open. Do not open the door unless authorized by security personnel.”
I could see the strange pictures – almost like hieroglyphs – illustrating how to open the door with a diagram. I touched the placard, the surface of which was smooth.
“Plastic,” I said. “This is from the Old World.”
“The language gives that away, too,” Isaru said, his voice tone making it clear that what I had said was very obvious. Isaru had his moments where he could be snarky.
Isaru grabbed the torch before walking, almost stomping, off into the darkness. I pushed down my irritation.
“You need to be careful,” I said. “This place could be dangerous.”
He paused, seeming to consider. The firelight cast a strange sheen on his silvery hair. “I don’t think anything’s been here in years, but I see your point.” He seemed pained to concede even that. “I’m curious about a place this old. If we truly are the only ones to enter in centuries, there could be secrets here hidden since before the Ragnarok War. It’s rare to come upon ruins where the evidence has not already been completely destroyed.”
It was a good point, and to be honest, I was a bit curious myself. So much had been forgotten about the Old World, and who knew? There might be answers in here.
If Isaru wanted to go first, I didn’t see the harm in letting him. I followed him down the dark tunnel leading from the main doorway. The tunnel sloped downward, becoming colder with each step.
The tunnel abruptly ended at another door similar to the one on the outside, only this one was completely clear of any growth. It let me better see its features. Isaru shone his torch on it. Like the first door, it had the number 36.
“What does the number mean?” I asked. “It has to be important.”
“We need context for it,” Isaru said. “I didn’t know Old Worlders built places like this.”
He pushed at the door, which groaned under its own weight as it opened. Cool air issued from within, carrying with it a mustiness I couldn’t quite place.
Isaru stepped inside. I looked back toward the entrance, only to see a small sliver of light barely bright enough to be seen. It wouldn’t be long before there was no light at all. An hour might have been too generous an allotment.
I stepped past the door and there was a curious deadening of all sound. It was hard to escape the feeling that we were buried beneath the earth. It was like a time capsule, and my mind had difficulty comprehending some of the things I saw.
The first thing I saw was a desk, which was easy enough to identify, but harder was a strange little box on top of that desk, with a broken pane of glass that looked out to nowhere. There was nothing but blackness behind it, but a wheeled chair was situated in front of it as if someone might be interested in looking out that window – if it could be so called.
“Ah, I’ve read about these,” Isaru said, going over to the contraption on the desk. “They were called computers. Artificial brains that did thinking for the people a long time ago. At least, that’s what I think it is. It matches the description.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Just don’t open it up if there’s a brain inside.”
Isaru chuckled. “I don’t know how it works, but I doubt that it’s like that. I’ve read that the technology of the Old World was based on machinery. Metal, wires, electricity. Things we don’t really know how to reproduce today.”
From all the reading Isaru had done, I often felt at a disadvantage. I knew electricity was an energy force that made things run, almost magically. I had seen Precursor artifacts that ran on them, things that were often so rusted and broken down that it was impossible to tell for what they had been designed. There was a museum, in Colonia, where such things were displayed, and one of these machines was claimed to produce electricity – although no one in the Covenant could figure out how to make it work, which, I supposed, was part of the reason why it was placed in a museum in the first place.
“All the same,” I said, “these people would probably be pretty confused about how a lot of the Elekai’s things work. It is said the Xenofold didn’t exist until the Ragnarok War. Can you imagine that?”
The Elekai still depended on the consciousness of the Xenofold for a lot of things, even if it had weakened over time.
“True,” Isaru said. “Our technology is of a different kind.”
He stepped away from the “computer” and continued down the passageway.
My unease at continuing was starting to go away a bit. Not completely, but enough to where I was beginning to believe that there was nothing truly dangerous. If there was anything hiding in here, it probably would have revealed itself by now.
At least, that was what I hoped.
The corridor made a ninety degree turn to the right, and continued on into the darkness. The corridor was empty, and both sides were lined with dark doorways that I wasn’t about to suggest entering.
“It just keeps going,” Isaru said. “I wonder what this place was for.”
“People lived here,” I said.
Isaru turned to me. “What makes you say that?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure about it. “Just a feeling I have.”
“Well, for a place that people lived in, it doesn’t look much lived in.” He paused. “Curious.”
“What?”
Isaru pointed at the wall. “There’s a word I haven’t heard before.”
I couldn’t really see what he was pointing at, so I went closer. He shone his torch on the wall, illuminating the word.
It was a strange word. It had a harshness that was characteristic of a lot of English words, a harshness that had been softened in our own language, when English and Spanish had blended. I sounded it out.
“Bunker.”
Isaru chuckled. “What a strange sounding word. What does it mean?”
“It’s this place,” I said. “It’s where we are. If this is the thirty-sixth one, then there have to be others. Maybe much more.”
Then, I remembered the dreams I had. Anna had talked about these places, though I couldn’t really remember what they were. Only that they were important.
“I...remember these,” I sai
d.
Isaru looked at me, curious. “What do you mean? You remember them, or...”
I shook my head. “It feels...familiar. But I’ve dreamed of these places before.”
I fought to remember. Even if all the dreams I had were clear at the time, they had a way of fading. I had been in the practice of writing down my dreams as Elder Isandru had instructed me. There hadn’t been any means for doing that lately, though, and the notes I had about dreams mentioning Bunkers were tucked away in my nightstand back in the Sanctum.
My notes probably weren’t even there, anymore. Everyone at the Sanctum probably thought Isaru and I were dead.
Isaru broke me from my thoughts. “You don’t remember?”
“I’m trying.”
“It’s probably time we went back, anyway.”
I nodded. “Right.”
We turned back for the entrance. Going out didn’t seem to take as long as going in, something for which I was thankful. There was no longer any light at the end of the tunnel, probably because there was no longer any sunlight making it through the treetops. I was beginning to worry we might have taken a wrong turn, but at last, we came to the opening, just as we had left it. We both squeezed through, and getting out into the open air again was a huge relief, even if the heaviness of the surrounding trees was hardly open.
The fire was still going, although it had burned low. Isaru threw on another log, feeding it some more kindling he’d gathered earlier, and we went through our usual routine of filling the pot with water, meat, and whatever plants we had managed to gather on the way.
Soon, we had eaten and there was nothing to do but sleep.
“I’ll take first watch,” he said.
“You think something is in there?” I asked.
“No,” Isaru said, “but I think something is out there.” He nodded toward the trees.
“You think so?”
“I got a feeling. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”
I trusted Isaru’s judgment, but it was hard to relax when he was worried something was out there.
As such, I made sure I slept with my hand on the hilt of my blade.
