Dark Matter

by Luke Donegan

  You saw your master die, thought the Builder. Now you are Curator. The last Curator of History. On this last day.

  He hugged his chest as pain rose there again. Passage was near. He could feel it.

  He stood to join the emu people ... then an earth-shattering crash rolled across the dome. The floor leapt upwards and he was thrown across the grass. The rumbling grew, as assault on his ears. A deafening roar! The animals on the grassy slope near him had all been knocked to the ground. Water leapt from the stream, and plaster fell from the far off ceiling, showering the dome with white dust.

  As the sound subsided he looked up to see how the others had fared. Emu people stood slowly, dazed and unsteady.

  The Builder spun around to face the doors. They held. He clambered to his feet to check their bolts and hinges. Saskareth joined him.

  “What was it? asked the emu man.

  “I do not know. Perhaps that beast ...” But he did not want to divulge his fear. That Erys had been defeated. That nothing stood between the Nature Dome and the General’s Spirit.

  “I think part of the Museum has collapsed. We must shore up these doors.”

  Saskareth urged his people on as they returned up the hillside hefting boulders to block the entrance. The Builder laid his ear to the doors listening for activity. For a moment he heard nothing. Then at the last second he jumped back as the battering ram slammed into the doors.

  The bolts snapped and the doors sprang open. The ram was abandoned and soldiers tumbled into the Nature Dome.

  Fighting erupted on the grassy hillside. Batons swung and beaks swiped as soldiers and emu people collided. The emu people were strong and their beaks a formidable weapon, but they were vastly outnumbered as wave after wave of soldiers flooded through the doors.

  The Builder found himself fighting back to back with Saskareth. With heavy arms he swung a baton back and forth, dropping soldiers with each swing. He saw comrades falling around him. A sickness built in his heart. He would have laid down his weapon and yielded but for those fighting with him.

  He fought on. Combined with the strength of Saskareth, the Builder was unassailable. A pile of fallen soldiers surrounded them, some trying to crawl away. Then the tide of soldiers receded until they had no-one to fight. The Builder held the baton high, waiting.

  The sea of soldiers parted and the Commander stepped forward.

  The man towered above the others. Spikes flared from his shoulders and knees. The steel plates of his armor glinted as he approached. The blood-tipped halberd, upon which he had murdered Paris was held forth, pointed at the Builder’s heart.

  Silence fell on the dome. All the fighting seemed to stop. The only sound was of the Commander’s foot-fall as he approached Saskareth and the Builder.

  Saskareth swung around and they stood side by side as the Commander stepped over his fallen soldiers. The Commander stopped within a few feet of them, his body rising and falling with slow breaths.

  “We are all dead if we don’t stop the Ascendants,” said the Builder. “Don’t you understand? Help us.”

  The Commander seemed to growl behind his mask. With no warning he thrust the point of his halberd at the Builder’s chest. Its point sliced the Builder’s skin as he dodged aside, ripping his shirt and drawing blood. Saskareth grabbed the long pole of the halberd to wrest it from the Commander’s grip. The Commander swung the weapon, slamming its handle into the emu man’s face. He drove forward and kneed Saskareth’s thigh, driving two knee spikes deep into the animist’s leg. Saskareth cried out and fell to one knee, transforming into his animal form.

  The Builder swung his baton against the Commander’s helmet. The blow drove the soldier back a few feet. His knee-spikes slid free of Saskareth’s leg. The Builder swung again, knocking the faceplate clear from the Commander’s helmet to reveal a dark, brutal face. The Builder swung again, but this time the Commander managed to lift his halberd in defense, deflecting the blow.

  The Commander caught the Builder’s hand in his steel fist and twisted until the bone snapped. He dropped the halberd and drove his free hand into the Builder’s cheek. He was about to punch again when Saskareth caught his arm. The two struggled, testing their strength. The Commander twisted then drove sideways into the emu man. Three shoulder spikes stabbed Saskareth’s shoulder and neck. The emu man screeched before sliding from the spikes to the ground.

  The Builder wrapped his good arm around the Commander’s neck and clenched the muscle. He avoided the Commander’s spikes but the Commander rained fisted blows down on the Builder's back and neck.

  Lucien gripped tighter. Blows pounded his back and he felt himself weakening. Pain flared up his leg as the Commander drove knee-spikes into his thigh.

  His grip loosened and failed. The Commander broke free and clutched the Builder’s neck with both hands. He squeezed and pulled the Builder closer. The Builder began to suffocate. The Commander was screaming at him but he could hear nothing. The soldier’s saliva sprayed his face. He struggled for air and felt his life slipping.

  In that moment before death he summoned Ariel into his mind, wanting her face to be the last thing he ever saw.

  The Commander’s mouth opened, surprised. Blood pooled up, and the Commander toppled forward onto the Builder, bringing them both to the ground. The Builder struggled under the Commander’s crushing weight.

  Saskareth reached under his shoulders and dragged him free. The emu man helped him up. He staggered to his feet, and saw the shaft of the halberd rising up from the Commander’s back, wedged between armor plates.

  The Builder offered Saskareth a pained smile. Despite this win, both knew death was moments away. Each supporting the other, they turned to aid their companions.

  A Captain barked orders: “Fight! Fight!”

  Hundreds more soldiers swarmed through the fallen doors to join those inside. Their thundering boots trampled the grass on the hillside to mud. They rushed down the hillside towards what remained of the emu people.

  So few, thought Lucien.

  And no hope remained.

  But the Builder and the emu people rallied and cried: Gob, gob, gob! And the thirty remaining defenders of this sorry planet clutched their chests as Passage rose, and faced the black tide with the substance of love firmly in their hearts.

  Sian clutched her chest against the rising pain. Like dull hooks pulling at the skin from the inside. She looked up from her meal across the table at the Hearth-Mother. Rhada, she could see was feeling it too. The girl held her chest with one hand and the other held the table for support. Their eyes met and they both understood. Passage was upon them.

  Sian looked around the dining room. Most of the children continued to eat, though a few of the older ones had put down their utensils at the stirrings of nausea.

  “What is it?” she asked the Hearth-Mother.

  The girl shook her head. Silence descended on the dining room. Something was coming.

  Then a sound like distant thunder rolled into the room. A rumbling roar, something large and far off, like hills being crushed to dust. Glasses and plates on the tables rattled. A child’s glass vibrated off the table and shattered on the floor. A number of the children cried out.

  Sian and the Hearth-Mother stood quickly. The windows rattled. A crack appeared in one of the panes. Then, slowly the rumbling subsided. Plates and glasses stilled and silence settled once again on the room.

  “Teacher,” called the Hearth-Mother to Grace at the next table. “Stay with the children. Curator, come with me.”

  The two girls left the dining room and crossed the courtyard. They passed through the northern dormitory and emerged onto a balcony that offered a view of the distant Museum. Three miles away a massive dome of cloud engulfed the complex, blooming up and out. Dust rolled down the sand dunes and over the water. They could see the western edge of the blue Nature Dome and the tip of what seemed part of the tower. But as the dust cloud grew it completely obscured the Museum.

  Sian ra
ised her hands to her mouth. Rhada gripped the balustrade, her face white with horror. Secondary plumes of dust billowed up, pillars emerging from the mushroom cloud.

  “Jay,” breathed Rhada. Her chest felt it would break.

  “No!” cried Sian. Everything she loved was in the Museum. Dust rose, and colour leeched from the sky.

  A breeze washed towards them, lifting their hair, stinging the tears in their eyes.

  Erys. The animals. The children.

  “No!” she despaired. The Hearth-Mother grabbed her shoulders. But she did not want to be held. Rhada held her tighter. She stepped between her and the horrible sight, and pulled her to her chest. Rhada wrapped an arm around Sian’s head and buried the distraught girl’s face in her shoulder.

  The breeze grew stronger. They felt it tugging at their robes as it became a great wind and their robes whipped around their bodies.

  What remained of the Museum lay hidden behind the plume of dust. But closer, and out above the ocean, they saw movement. Something was flying towards Ocean-Hearth.

  “What is it?” whispered Rhada.

  It was an animal, but not one Sian could recognise. And she knew them all.

  “I don’t know.”

  It was impossible ... a lion ... and flying. Impossibly large.

  Together they stepped back, still clutching each other. “I think ...” began Rhada. “I think we should go inside.”

  But they were transfixed, watching as the creature approached across the ocean at an astonishing speed. It skimmed the water, raising a plume behind. Great winged creature, claws extended and flared out. Fire leapt from its body as if it were aflame and smoke trailed behind.

  It lifted up before the cliff and swooped up past the balcony.

  The girls fell to the floor. Pain tore at their chests. A crisis of imminent Passage. The creature sunk its claws deep into the roof of the building behind them. It flapped its wings, beating hot air down on Sian and Rhada, and ripped the entire roof from the dormitory. Wood exploded and splinters showered the girls. The creature flew up and cast the roof aside. The two girls scampered backwards, narrowly avoiding being crushed as the roof crashed through the balcony and tumbled down the cliff into the ocean.

  The creature scanned the empty dormitory then flapped across the courtyard to the opposite building. It had not seen them.

  “The children,” said the Hearth-Mother.

  Together they ran through the shattered building. As they entered the courtyard, the creature lowered on the dining hall roof and gripped it with its claws. They heard the children screaming as the beast peeled the roof away.

  The General spied the children cowering inside. He dropped the roof, beat his wings and rose above the dining hall. A feast of Spirits, ready to be devoured. His jaws opened. Steaming saliva spilled into the room.

  The girls ran across the courtyard as the beast lunged at the children. Something flew past Sian and Rhada, knocking them down. A silver streak of light.

  The dragon soared beneath the descending griffin. It gripped the creature’s open jaws with its small front paws, wrapped its body around the creature’s head. Then, like a sling, it flicked the griffin away from the dining room. The griffin crashed through the wall and rolled out into the courtyard. In moments it was up on its feet, eyes red with anger.

  The dragon followed it out. The silver creature landed before the griffin, settling on its four paws, its tail whipping back and forth like an angry cat’s.

  Rhada gained her feet and ran past the creatures into the dining room. Sian stood, clutching her pained chest, backing slowly away. She moved onto the verandah, stumbled to her knees, eyes fixed on the creatures.

  The griffin spied Sian across the courtyard, and it knew instantly that this mortal was the object of the dragon’s love. And the object of its weakness!

  The griffin lifted its wings and rocked back, ready to pounce.

  I will rip the skin from her body, it hissed. Then I will cook her meat in fire, until the reek can never be forgotten.

  The dragon opened its jaws. It knew what it needed to do. The only thing it could do. Something unimaginable.

  How far are you prepare to go? Erys had once been asked.

  To save his love, Erys’ Spirit would shatter the barriers between worlds. It chose to forsake the Law, to break it, to smash the Law to dust.

  The dragon leapt at the griffin, and with the great wind roaring across its face, drew in the Spirits and the power of the General’s entire bounty.

  The great wind howled across the courtyard, tearing souls from the griffin.

  Through its wide jaws the dragon sucked them in.

  Passage erupted from the griffin’s chest. The golden light of its Spirit siphoned away into the gullet of the creature before it. It panicked and tried to escape. The dragon imprisoned the griffin’s wings and prevented it from rising.

  Clutching its prey, the dragon fed. The taste gave it strength. The wind was like a vessel, funneling the griffin’s Spirit into its maw.

  Dark Matter spilled from the griffin’s pores and attempted to restore the damage.

  The dragon was ready and drew the Dark Matter to itself and claimed it as its own.

  The griffin struggled, feeling itself slipping away. It became a man and beat at the dragon’s coils with bare hands. It transformed back into the beast and snapped at the dragon with its jaws. But the dragon ignored this pain. It was exulting, celebrating the taste of this Spirit, and of the millions of Spirits the griffin had devoured. They rode the wind, and fell into him. They became him ...

  ... and he became something else. He shattered the Law and grew beyond the bounds of the world.

  The General, a man again, screamed and screamed. “Help me!” he cried at the girl cowering across the courtyard. Help me! he cried to his brothers and sisters. But their own feast consumed them and they did not hear.

  He screamed as golden light poured from his body, streaming on the wind into the transforming dragon. He screamed until the last drop of his golden light was consumed, his Dark Matter stolen, his Spirit spent.

  The screams died, and the great wind stilled. Silence fell over the courtyard. Sian cowered on the verandah, gazing at the creature that remained.

  “Erys! Erys!” she called. She saw him in human form, lying in the courtyard, naked and unmoving. But something else was there also. Something rising above and twisting around him. It was not the silver and sleek creature that had fought the griffin. It was something else, larger and darker.

  “Erys!”

  Something like a volcano, building with the pressure of the world beneath it, about to erupt.

  “Erys!”

  Sian struggled to her feet. She took two steps towards the creature. Its coils now filled the courtyard. Dark Matter streamed from beneath its scales. More darkness than creature.

  The dragon lifted its head, larger now than a small house. It saw the girl approaching. It lifted its lip and hissed, warning her off.

  And she saw in the creature’s blue eyes the eyes of her lover. Erys, with his lost, lost eyes.

  Erys, transformed and without law.

  The wind tore through her. Everything was changed.

  And she fell to her knees with despair. For as Curator of Nature she understood the Laws of the world. She understood that this becoming had changed the world, as surely as the Ascendants had changed the world two thousand years earlier. The result - this creature now larger than the courtyard could contain, that was Erys and not Erys.

  This creature rose into the air above Ocean-Hearth and roared and spewed fire into the sky.

  It was an Aberration worse than Passage had ever been.

  Chapter 22 PASSAGE

  They fought with their backs to the trees as an avalanche of soldiers flowed down the hillside. The cries of soldiers and dying emu people rose like bird song in the air.

  He saw Ariel. Her face lustrous with silver light. Her red hair like flames about her face. He was gl
ad she had not lived to see this day.

  Peace, she whispered. Something is coming.

  She drifted closer to kiss him, and was gone in a shower of light. Fighting soldiers and black masks. Bird cries. Horrible, lonely sounds that diminished one by one.

  His heart ached. He wanted to lose himself in madness.

  Much has been lost, Ariel told him. But something is coming.

  He felt it, as did all in the Nature Dome, the emu people and the soldiers, and those hiding in the tunnels beneath the Museum, and the people in the city, cowering in their dusty homes, terrified by the things they had seen this day. They all felt it. A change. Like a sound too deep to hear.

  Something breaking in the deep heart of the world.

  Up it came, through the floor and their legs into their hearts. Everyone stopped the fighting. Soldiers and emu people alike lowered their arms and looked about in dismay.

  A change was upon the world. Like a breeze in a place that has never known wind. Or rain in the driest desert. Behind their masks the soldiers’ eyes widened in fear.

  The Builder clutched his chest. It burned with the pain of imminent Passage. Every figure in the dome hugged their chests also. All of them, the few remaining Umawari, Jaime, and the hundreds of soldiers on the hill, they all knew that Passage was upon them.

  Something was coming. The end of all living things.

  The soldiers on the hillside began to flee towards the doors. The group panicked, believing now that they had been lured into this place to die.

  Holding their chests the soldiers pushed and jostled to escape the Nature Dome. The crush of bodies prevented their easy exit. Madness gripped them. They would die in this place. They began to attack their comrades in a desperate struggle to reach the doors.

  “To me!” summoned the Builder. Tears filled his eyes. “To me, my friends.”

  The surviving emu people gathered in a small group beneath the trees. They lay the unconscious bodies of the Scion-Doctor and a few of their fallen friends on the ground and knelt in a circle. In their emu forms they held hands, and then hugged their chests as the pain grew too great to bear.