by Kyle West
And so, all hope of changing the city died. When I went out into the forest these days, there were no more prophecies. It was as if Annara herself had turned her back on me. I tried not to think of things in such a way, but it was very difficult. I was disallowed from going to the forest, but I found ways around it. And the pressure from my parents, and from Shal, to begin Aether treatments was growing more and more with each passing day.
I thought there was little I could do but run away. And I was making such a plan, but I didn’t know where to run. Finding Marius would only get him killed, and anywhere else meant living a life alone without knowing anybody.
I was almost ready to surrender.
Until one day there came to the Palace two strange and curious people, outlanders by their form of clothing. They claimed to be Heralds of Annara, and I was desperate enough to give them a chance to explain themselves.
And then, what they said changed my life forever, telling me that Annara would be coming soon to the Palace.
I was skeptical at first, but they knew things that only I would know, and were even able to guess some of my visions, and even knew about my prophecy of the city falling.
I felt so hopeless that I was willing to try anything. So together – Isandru, these Heralds, and I – have been devising a plan to topple Shal while waiting for Annara to come. So far, she hasn’t, but that doesn’t mean she won’t.
It will just take time.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
THE NEXT MORNING, I KEPT my dream to myself, mostly because Shara was always around us. I would have to relate it sometime when she wasn’t around, but that would be difficult, considering that she almost always was around.
This one had been different from all the others – more like a stream of thoughts and less like a stream of events that were actually viewable. In fact, I wasn’t sure if it even had been a dream. I had dreams of Mia that were not, in fact, prophecies, and I knew that intrinsically.
This, however, was strange. It was something I couldn’t exactly place, and not being able to label it made me all the more reluctant to share it.
So that morning, I kept quiet as we followed the line of the overgrown road until, coming around a ridge, the valley lowered abruptly.
And in the bare expanse lay, half-buried, the metallic ruins of the strangest thing I had ever seen.
“What is it?” Isa asked.
No one answered her as we just stared. That it was manmade, there was no doubt, but it didn’t seem like a building. If it reminded me of anything, it was an insect, but why people would build such a thing was a mystery. It had to be at least two hundred feet long, and about half as wide. It was crumpled in the middle, almost rent in two, as if something had slammed into it. Or maybe, it had slammed into something. The Road went right by, so back in the time when people used it, they had to be well aware of this thing’s existence. Perhaps it was something the Hyperboreans had built, but part of me doubted that.
For all of its strangeness, it seemed familiar. The feeling was uncomfortable, because I knew it wasn’t my sense of familiarity, but Anna’s.
And then, in a flash, I saw it for what it was. Curved beams like ribs supported the main body of what had once been a metallic hull. A hull meant it had to be a ship.
But what would a ship be doing in the middle of the mountains?
It took far longer than it should have for everything to click. This ship wasn’t built for sailing; it had been built for flying.
“The stories are true,” I said. “That’s an airship, I’m sure of it.”
As I said this, everyone looked at me, probably wondering if I was joking. It was no joke, though. Now that I had said it out loud, I was surer of it than ever. It was something Anna would have known about, and it was hard to tell if I had come to this conclusion because of her, or from my own intuition.
“Let’s get a closer look,” I said.
“It looks nothing like the ones in artwork,” Isa said. “Although, given that they have been lost for four hundred years, it makes sense that we wouldn’t know what they look like.”
“The way the road goes by, people used to know about it,” Isaru said, mirroring one of my original thoughts. “Perhaps that’s even the reason the road passes it. It could have been one of many stops along the Pilgrimage Road, but I have never read any mention of it. Which I find curious.”
A lot of people believed the ships never existed. It wasn’t hard to see why – a ship that flew seemed like something beyond possibility. In art, they were often depicted as conventional ships, wooden with sails that sort of functioned as wings. The closest representation I’d seen was in the Sanctum’s mural on the interior of the Dome, but even that didn’t come close to what I saw before me.
We followed the road over the next hour until we were standing right next to it. Up close, it was far larger than it had first appeared. In reality, it was even bigger because half it was buried in the xen. Large ruptures in the hull were open to the air, and inside I could see ancient machinery, pipes, tubes, and twisted metal, shining in the sunlight. That wasn’t iron, then; it would have rusted a long time ago if it were.
“Is it possible to get inside?” Isa asked.
“It’s probably dangerous,” Isaru said. “With something that old, there’s no telling if a deck might give out from under you.”
It was a good point, but still, my curiosity was too great. “I want to see it, too. We might learn something. Not all of us need to go in.”
“We can’t spend long here,” Shara said.
I circled around the ship as the others followed. I came to a stop when I had arrived at what I believed to be the stern. There was a slight opening between the top of the ship and the xen below. The opening was wide, but not very tall. There was just enough space to squeeze through on my belly, if I wanted. The entire stern may have once been open to the air, but over time, the xen grew very thick, almost completely blocking the entry.
“Do you still think it’s a good idea?” Isaru asked.
I wasn’t sure of that, but I was resolved all the same. “You still have that torch?”
Isaru reached into his pack to get it. Once it was in my hand, he fetched his tinderbox, and after gathering some wood from a nearby hillside, he got a small blaze going. With it, Isaru lit the torch.
“Try to get in and I’ll hand the torch through,” Isaru said.
“You’re not going in by yourself, are you?” Isa asked.
“You can come if you want,” I said.
Shara, however, was silent and glowering. It was unnerving, the way her eyes glowed as she looked at me. It was clear that she thought we were wasting time.
I hesitated a bit, not really wanting to leave Isaru alone with her.
“This won’t take long,” I said.
“Be careful,” Isaru said.
With that, I got on my stomach, shimmying backward though the opening. It was a tight squeeze, but there was enough xen growing inside the ship that I could climb the rest of the way down. By the time my boots thudded on the metal below, Isa was working her own way down. There was plenty of light in this hold, but that might not be the case later on.
Isaru appeared above a moment later and passed the torch down to me. I held it as far in front of me as I could.
The space was wider than I initially expected. The metallic deck was warped – not surprising if this thing had crashed. There were also many black streaks along the walls. A fire, then.
Even with all the damage, it was recognizable. I felt a surge of excitement, and I knew that excitement wasn’t my own.
“They kept cargo here,” I said.
Most of that cargo was gone. There were still a couple of empty plastic barrels, mostly melted. The metal was elevated in the center of the hold, and took me a moment to realize that it was a platform. It had been designed to hold something, though I didn’t know what.
All that said, it was surprisingly empty. Isa and I made our way for
ward. The deck sloped slightly upward. It made climbing the steep stairs we came to a bit difficult, but we managed to reach an upper deck that was so laden with debris that it was nearly impossible to proceed.
“Should we go back?” Isa asked.
“Just a minute. There’s a way through here.”
It was narrow, but there was a way. People must have cleared a path at some point, perhaps even centuries ago. There was plenty of light from a rupture in the ceiling, but I kept the torch, just in case I needed it later.
We ducked through some twisted rebar until we had entered a comparatively open space in the same hold. It was hard to tell what this space might have been used for. There was another staircase leading up, attached to the bulwark, but it was completely buried in debris, so it was impossible to traverse.
I didn’t want to go up, though. I wanted to get to the bow, if it was even possible.
“Does this place look familiar?” Isa asked.
As soon as I heard the word “familiar,” I felt a strange sense of vertigo. I didn’t just feel like I had been here four hundred years ago; I knew I had. I remembered the bulwarks bathed red in the emergency lighting, the wailing of the klaxons, the thunderous pummeling of the Radaskim dragons. That was how it had crashed, then. We had escaped, only just in time...
Only I hadn’t been in this ship, but another. That one couldn’t have crashed far from here, because there had been two. It had been even bigger than this one.
“Shanti?”
Isa’s voice snapped me back to reality. She was looking at me, concerned.
“You all right?”
“I remember that day,” I said, finally. “We got to the escape pods only just in time. We landed in the mountains, not far from here. I...don’t remember how we survived. I just remember it being unspeakably cold.”
“You remember that?”
I looked at Isa, who seemed to be even more worried, now. I didn’t blame her.
“I sometimes feel she’s coming back, stronger and stronger,” I said. “Her memories mix with mine, sometimes to the point where I don’t know the difference. But yes. I remember it. Not clearly, but clear enough.”
“Do you actually think you’ll become her?”
“I...don’t know. I hope not.” The thought made me uncomfortable, and now, I wanted nothing more than to get out of here. “I think I’ve seen enough, anyway. This ship was called the Gilgamesh. I remember that much as well.”
We made our way back out the way we came.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
OVER THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, we followed the road, which made travel far easier than we had expected. It was well-worn, despite all the years, and aside from plenty of rockslides, it was mostly passable, and we made good time. Traveling through the mountains was hard work, but they were untouched by the poison of the waste or Northern Reversion.
That, however, would change in the coming years.
Hunting was actually plentiful here. Game teemed in the valley forests, more than enough for Isa to find something most days. We stuck to smaller game where possible, and even had the luxury to do so. It was only with our last few days in the Red Mountains that the land turned nastier, and hunting became scarcer.
And then, finally, the land fell away, to be replaced by a dark and lonesome plain that stretched as far as the eye could see. I thought it would be warmer down there, but if anything, it was colder and windier. There was little xen, and what xen there was clung to sharp rocks, looking just days away from dying. There wasn’t much talking. There was a feeling of emptiness similar to a reversion that was barely detectable, and as each day passed, that feeling only grew stronger, even as the sky became dimmer and grew thick with clouds.
There was no wildlife, either. The land was simply empty and bare, the only sound being the wind constantly gusting across the plains.
I could see why they were called the Plains of Decay.
And then, on the fourth day, the monotony was broken by a still distant ridge, slightly obscured with mist. The sky was grayer and darker than even where we were, and that darkness had nothing to do with the onset of evening. It was hard to tell time here, but we had woken up not four hours before.
When we made our evening fire with dead xen, the darkness seemed all the more complete.
“This place is evil,” Isa said.
It was the first thing anyone had said for hours. Even so, not a one of us could bring ourselves to respond. Even Shara, as unshakeable as she was, seemed more reserved than usual.
That night, my dreams were troubled. There was fire and smoke, but despite that, deep darkness. Within the flames was a dark figure that the fire did not seem to touch. His eyes glowed white as a thin, cruel smile spread across his lips. He looked familiar to me, although I could not remember where I had seen him...
The scene flickered, until it showed Mia with her brother, Isandru, in the Cloud Palace. They were talking low, as if afraid of being overheard. Mia glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening. She screamed...
Again, the scene shifted. I found myself on the deserted streets of Hyperborea between high, broken towers. There was nothing – not a sound, not another being within one hundred miles, and not even a thought in my head. In the distance, down the long road, was a blur. The blur spread, until it became clear that it was fog, rolling forward. I knew the fog would kill me, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to move.
It advanced from every direction, and I stood there for what seemed an eternity, frozen in place. When it at last enveloped me, all I could feel was coldness. I could hardly even breathe.
And then, there was a pair of eyes in front of me, and the same, evil smile of my first vision. I screamed.
That was when I woke, and it took me a moment to remember where I was. I sat up to see Isaru sitting, facing the distant ridge line, his silhouette outlined by the low fire. I willed my heart to slow down, and in time, I felt myself calm.
Across the fire, Isa stirred in her sleep. Maybe she was having bad dreams, too. This place seemed to cast a dark pall over everything.
It was nearly my turn to go on watch, anyway, so I stood up. Isaru jumped at the sound of my approach. He was on edge, too.
Isaru went off as I sat on the rock he vacated. By the time he lay down, I watched in the direction he’d been gazing.
If there was anything that was going to jump out at us, it would probably come from beyond that ridge. It was hard to believe that we were this close, that Ragnarok Crater was in sight. And yet, there was no feeling that this journey was anywhere near its end. All I felt was tired.
As the first hour passed, I noticed auroras dancing in the sky beyond the ridge; the same thing had happened at the reversion north of the Sanctum. It was said that Hyperborea was the source of the Northern Reversion itself. The deadened land surrounding it was testament to that.
The morning was a long time in coming. The sun, when it did come up, seemed to do so reluctantly. I had to wake everyone up, because it would be another hour or two before the sun was bright enough to make it seem like a normal morning.
After breakfast, we were once again on our way. Everything was quiet, save the wind blowing cold across the plain. We walked quickly, knowing this was the final stretch to the Crater itself. If felt as if we were doing nothing more than walking quicker toward our deaths.
As we approached the final rise, a few trees began to appear, but something seemed off about them. They were gray, almost completely blended into the listless landscape. I realized then that they were made of stone. I had seen petrified trees before, but never as many as these. It was as if they were all frozen at once, while others still had been shattered, being nothing more than piles of rock. I had no idea what could have caused that to happen, but it was unsettling.
All too quickly, we came to the ridge. There was a natural series of switchbacks, apparently carved into the rocks long ago. There was no other way up, so we followed that path, often over crumbling steps
that no one had used in years.
“It’s too quiet,” Isa said.
The air seemed to eat her words, and it was hard to bring myself to respond. “Better than it being loud.”
“You know what I mean,” Isa said. “For all the stories about this place, you’d think something would have attacked us by now.”
“We were attacked, in case you’ve forgotten,” Shara said.
“Maybe those people who looked for Hyperborea actually found it,” I said. “Only they never got out.”
“Well, that’s just depressing,” Isa said.
Whatever the case, it was too late to turn back now. And there was nothing in the world that would make me turn back. Not after we had come all this way and all the times we had almost died.
By midafternoon – or what I thought to be midafternoon – we finally crested the high ridge, only to find low-hanging clouds obscuring the entire Crater below. It was completely impossible to get a sense of what it looked like, or how deep it went, but I could see the trail going down the ridge, plunging into the thick mist. The ridge stretched on our either side, lost to the horizon in the north and east. Its curve wasn’t even detectable, instead seeming like a straight line of mountains.
That fog made me uncomfortable, mainly because of the fog in my dream. Then again, something seemed unnatural about this fog, too. It seemed more solid than conventional fog, its outer edges lapping almost like waves on the Crater’s rim. Certainly, normal fog didn’t do that.
“We camp here tonight and keep an eye on that fog,” I said.
“It looks wrong,” Isaru said.
“I don’t know if it means anything,” I said, “but it’s better to be safe. I think the fog is dangerous. Maybe even lethal.”
“You mean it’s poisonous,” Shara said.
“Maybe,” I said. “I just think we should wait. If it’s still there tomorrow...well, we will decide then.”
