by J M D Reid
“Somethin’ shifted?” suggested Fingers. “We disturbing things?”
“But comin’ from below?” Miguil asked.
“I don’t know,” Avena said. She peered ahead. “Is that an opening? It’s darker than what’s around it.”
“Let’s find out,” Fingers said, his voice tight. “I don’t like this. We shouldn’t be here.”
Avena nodded her agreement and pressed on.
The booming sound didn’t return as they crossed to the darkness. It led to a stairwell that had collapsed, rubble choking the stairs. Water dripped through it, oozed along the floor as a small rivulet, and vanished into a crack in the floor. A sign was set in the wall written in Old Tonal. She wiped at it with a handkerchief, smearing away the dirt.
“Wot’s it say?” Bran asked, staring at her.
“I don’t read Old Tonal,” she said. “But I memorized some of the place names. Let me see. It’s hard to decipher.”
She held her lantern light closer and buffed the sign again.
“This leads to the library, I think.” She looked up. “We’re back where we started, only lower in elevation.”
Fingers grunted and spat. “Figures.” He popped his knuckles. “Well, least we know this is the wrong direction to be headin’ in. Don’t think we wanna be poppin’ out behind the library.”
“Didn’t see much choice,” Avena said, her stomach sinking. “It’s huge. Maybe there are better places it comes out.”
Fingers shrugged. “Let’s keep movin’.”
“Just . . . I need to drink,” Miguil said. He unslung his pack and began digging around.
Avena’s stomach rumbled. Her throat burned. Sighing, she surrendered to her needs. She pulled out her aquifer, a small sapphire set in a wooden handle. There was a leather-wrapped button sticking out a hole carved in the side. She brought it to her mouth and pressed it.
A cool stream of water gushed out. A gem this small would produce enough water a day to keep her alive. She savored the liquid as she gulped it down. The wet flowed down to her stomach. A refreshing chill washed through her for a moment. She let some spill over her face, crossing the dust coating her sweat-damped features.
Drinking the water reminded her of another biological necessity. She looked at the alcove then at the three men. “Could you give me some privacy?”
“Why?” Bran asked.
“She’s got to piss and don’t want you watchin’,” said Fingers, hooking his arm around the younger guard and pulling him along. “Let’s go see if we can’t get them dogs to bite your ankle.”
“Wot?” Bran gasped.
Miguil put away his aquifer and nodded to her.
She passed her water quickly. When she emerged, she grimaced to see fresh, steaming puddles soaking into the dust just around the corner; the men hadn’t gone far to relieve themselves.
She found them clustered around one of the carriages. The metal body in the front was missing, exposing a mass of rusting metal congealing together. Fingers rubbed his hand over the central mechanism, a ruby and an emerald fused together into a jewelchine the size of a horse’s heart. The corroded ends of wires stretched out of it in a dozen directions.
“No wonder there’s no place for a horse to hitch up,” Miguil said in awe. “Machines that drive themselves.”
“How did they get the wires inside the jewelchine?” Fingers muttered. “I don’t get that.”
“They grew them,” she said, staring in fascination. “Dualayn is studying the Recorder to learn that secret.”
Miguil shook his head. “Did everyone in Koilon own one of these? Were they all rich?”
Avena gave a hopeless shrug.
“You can see some of the mechanism,” Miguil said, lowering his lantern into the compartment. “See, down there, that box has rods leadin’ off to the wheels. They must work like gears in a watermill. You have to use them to change the speed the mill rotates compared to the flow of the river.”
“You know about waterwheels?” Avena asked.
“My father owned one. He had to sell it when I was young.”
“Oh, I never knew that.” Heat rushed through Avena’s cheeks. They’d once been promised before she’d learned what Miguil truly craved in a partner. As a woman, she could never fill that desire. Still, she should have known more about his past.
Miguil shrugged like it didn’t matter.
She opened her mouth to ask more when the thud of heavy footsteps echoed through the carriage house. She turned towards Ōbhin’s light. She was surprised by how far away it was. The footsteps sounded so close.
“Strange how sound echoes in here,” Fingers muttered. He popped his knuckles by clenching his fist. “I’d swear those are close.”
“Yeah,” Avena said, her fingertips growing fuzzy. “Ōbhin?” Her voice echoed through the carriage house. “Ōbhin!”
The footsteps thudded closer. She bit her lower lip, frozen for a moment, then she rushed from the wall towards Ōbhin. Those footsteps were too heavy to be any human being.
*
“ . . . bhin . . .”
The feminine voice echoed around Ōbhin. His ears pricked up and he glanced out to his left to the distant glow of Avena’s group. Her lantern seemed to bob and wink out for a moment, blocked by an object. He frowned as he wondered if she was coming closer.
“This definitely leads up,” Dajouth said, peering up the sloping ramp they found. The wall to their right had collapsed, heavy stones crushing a metal carriage, part of its mangled body thrusting out from it. “I can hear space up there.”
“Yeah,” Dualayn agreed. “We should attract the others’ attention.”
“I think they’re coming towards us,” Ōbhin said. He could hear their footsteps, distant but thudding closer and closer.
“Ōbhin!” Avena shouted, her voice clearer. She was crossing the carriage house fast.
“Something’s wrong,” Ōbhin said, his hand on his sword. “Avena!”
The thudding grew louder and louder. It boomed with heavy steps. It seemed to echo all around them for a moment and then it was behind him. He turned his head, confused by what was causing it. He thought it was Avena and her group. The thudding grew louder, echoing from near the collapsed wall.
He frowned. The sound came from a dark spot he hadn’t noticed before. Something glowed. A faint red and green, like the mixed moonlight of Firedrop and Earthheart shining at the same time.
“What is that glow?” Dualayn asked, backing up.
A figure made of amethyst stepped into the carriage house. It held the rough shape of a man, its body faceted. It stood a head taller than Ōbhin, its conical crown just clearing the ceiling. A ruby glowed in the center of its chest while emeralds shone in various spots around its body. For eyes, it had diamonds. It creaked as it lumbered forward, the floor shaking from the impact of its step.
“Crystalman,” Dualayn croaked, voice as choked as Ōbhin’s throat felt.
It seemed to look right at Ōbhin and pause. He drew his weapon, breathing labored.
An ear-splitting shriek burst from the figure before it boomed words in a musical language Ōbhin didn’t understand.
Dualayn groaned.
Ōbhin activated his resonance blade.
Chapter Twenty-One
The ear-splitting alarm blaring from the crystalman assaulted Ōbhin’s ears. The world grew woozy, the sound knifing into his balance. Diamond eyes flared bright, focusing on him. The gemstone figure thundered towards Ōbhin.
“He called us ‘crystal flawers’!” Dualayn shouted. “I think it means intruders or something bad.”
“Niszeh’s Black Tone,” Ōbhin curse, dropping his lantern with a clatter, the diamond light winking out. The crystalman’s eyes shone brighter as it advanced.
Dajouth’s binder burst with amethyst light. Avena shouted his name. Ōbhin let it all fade as he focused on the hulking automaton lumbering at him. The ruby jewel in its chest, where its heart would be, drew his s
crutiny. It had to be important. He shifted his stance, dropping out of his guard position to ready a strike.
Sweat dripped down his scalp as he waited for the perfect moment to attack. The ground shook with each of its steps. The diamond lights blazing from its eyes were almost blinding. The siren shrieked louder, his ears throbbing from the volume.
The crystalman entered his range.
He lunged forward, pushing off with his back foot. His sweat-soaked jerkin creaked around him. He slashed hard, the pitch of his sword humming louder. The crystalman’s arm drew back to deliver a punch, gemstone fingers curling into a fist the size of Ōbhin’s head.
His sword arced down into the chest and struck solid crystal.
The resonance blade should have cut through the amethyst with the same ease of a seamstress cutting through a bolt of linen. Taking no effort. Meeting no resistance. Instead, Ōbhin’s sword hit the gemstone and rebound though no barrier of amethyst energy had been thrown up. The shock of the impact shivered up the weapon and into his hand. Jarred up his humerus. His fingers went numb and his blade fell from his hand and clattered to the floor.
“Niszeh’s Black Tones!” he cursed in Qothian as the massive crystal fist barreled down at him.
He threw himself to the side out of desperation. The fist clipped his thigh. Bruising pain burst through his leg. The blow spun him. The dark world of the carriage house spun around him. He hit the ground hard on his belly. The loud smack echoed around him. Air burst from his lungs.
He coughed, gasping for air, dust billowing around his face.
The ground thudded. The crystalman loomed over him and drew back its arm for another fist.
“No!” someone shouted.
*
Avena dropped her lantern as the cry burst from her lips.
She didn’t think. Couldn’t think. Her lover lay on the ground. The crystalman—what else can it be? she’d thought when she’d seen it—prepared to deliver a fatal blow. She pushed the activation button on her earthen gauntlet. Green light flared around her arm.
She threw herself before the crystalman and thrust her right arm before her, palm open, fingers fuzzed numb. She had greater strength. Emeralds enhanced her limb. She felt it as she caught the fist threatening to kill Ōbhin.
Pain exploded in her shoulder. Though her arm had the strength to take the punch, the enhancing energy ended where the glove did. Thought it had a long sleeve, extending nearly to her shoulder, it didn’t reach there. Ligaments ripped. The ball of her humerus dislocated from her shoulder socket. The force of the impact threw her off her feet. She hurtled backward, howling in agony.
Her back struck the hood of one of the autonomous carriages. Metal groaned. She flipped and tumbled over it then fell off on the far side. She landed on the unyielding, dusty floor in a ball of groaning pain.
“Avena!”
Fingers knelt beside her, setting down his lantern. Bran and Miguil raced by, Bran’s binder out. Fingers grabbed her upper arm, giving her a squeeze, perhaps to comfort. It delivered only agony. She screamed as the ball of her dislocated humerus ground in the socket of her shoulder. Fingers ripped his hand back.
“Healer,” she groaned through the pain. Her legs spasmed. Her lower back throbbed, felt prickly and numb. “In my pack!”
“Sorry,” he groaned. “This is going to hurt.”
She nodded as he sat her up. Bone ground on bone. Her head threw back while teeth clenched down hard, clacking together. Her entire face strained as she growled her agony. Legs spasmed. He drew off her pack and then stretched her onto her back. The pain retreated to only moderate torture.
Fear surged over the throbbing fire of her injuries. Ōbhin was fighting that thing. She’d witnessed his sword’s ineffectiveness. How could they beat it? She struggled to think, but the pain drowned out her thoughts.
Fingers produced the topaz. He activated it with a press, the orange light bathing her face with the gentle love of a mother’s kiss. Memories of her mother on a bright day, when she was smiling and loving, flowed through Avena’s mind. “There are my two otters,” her mother said, scooping up Avena and her dead twin, Evane. “Look at you, just drenched.”
The topaz rested on her shoulder, soothing away the fire as, for a moment, she felt like she was in her mother’s arms with Evane and nothing bad had ever happened.
The blaring shout from the crystalman shattered that moment of peace: “PSADZEF ACHIE!”
*
“Avena!” Ōbhin groaned as he scrambled to his feet, his thigh throbbing from the punch. He spotted Fingers kneeling down where she’d vanished. He wanted to rush over there, but he couldn’t bring this thing anywhere near her.
“Ōbhin!” Bran shouted, the youth looking serious as he raced around one of the carriages, Miguil on his heels.
Ōbhin retreated as the crystalman swung blows at him. It slammed its fist into the ground. Dust burst around it. A loud snap. A crack raced across the floor’s smooth surface. The automaton advanced, its diamond eyes shining at Ōbhin.
Bran darted in to swing the binder, but the crystalman pivoted and swung a fist. A chime-like tinkle echoed as it moved, its crystalline structure resonating. Bran squeaked out in fright and threw himself down. Dajouth rushed in, his blond hair glowing in the diamond lantern shining behind him. Dualayn held it as he pressed himself against the wall.
“Ōbhin!” Miguil shouted. He snatched up Ōbhin’s weapon and tossed the humming blade at him.
He cursed and flinched back as the curved tulwar tumbled through the air, emerald light flashing. It hit the concrete floor at his feet, slicing through the stone. He yanked back his foot, narrowly missing having his toes severed. The crossguard hit the stone, stopping the blade from cutting deeper.
“Sorry!” Miguil groaned, wincing.
The crystalman rang, “PSADZEF ACHIE!”
The sound echoed through the room. Dajouth flinched back and shook his head. He looked dazed. Bran shoved him to the side, throwing him out of the way of being crushed by a fist.
“Hey!” Ōbhin shouted, wanting to protect his men. “Over here!”
He backed past one of the thick support columns. The crystalman turned, its diamond eyes shining focused beams across the carriage house. They landed on Ōbhin and focused. Its entire body pivoted and marched at him. He had to figure out a way to kill this thing. To deactivate it.
His eyes flicked around, searching for something.
*
“Where else you hurt?” Fingers asked, the ground shaking beneath Avena.
“Shoulder’s dislocated and back might be broken,” she groaned.
“Is there another healer in here?” Fingers asked, digging around. He had a frantic look on his face.
“No,” she said. She closed her eyes, the soothing bliss of the topaz radiating through her. The numbness in her back retreated. “I need you to pop my arm into place. The topaz can’t do that.”
“How?” he asked.
“Grab my arm and yank,” she said. “I’ll let you know when the ball of my humerus is back in the shoulder socket.”
He grabbed her hand, squeezing her through the earth gauntlet. The emeralds still shone, spilling verdant light across his fatherly features. He stood up and then planted his boot on her chest beneath her shoulder joint.
“This is gonna hurt?” he asked.
She nodded and tensed. She held the topaz to her shoulder with her left hand. “Do! It!”
He pulled. Hard.
She screamed. The love flowing from the topaz couldn’t blunt the pain of her torn ligaments twisting and her humerus’s ball sliding over her shoulder socket. Bone ground on bone. It popped into place.
“That’s it!” she snarled through clenched teeth.
He let go. Her arm flopped down. She panted, sweat soaking her face. She closed her eyes, drawing in ragged breaths, rubbing the healer over her shoulder, letting it repair her. She relaxed as the pain flowed out of her.
“Better?�
� Fingers asked.
“Yeah,” she said. She flexed prickling toes. A humming fuzz danced over her thoughts. “Now go. You have to help Ōbhin.”
Fingers’s brow furrowed. He glanced over the carriage towards the fight and then back down at her. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll be up soon and . . .” Her words trailed off as the minor prickling she felt intensified in her toes. A surge of panic rushed through her. She squeezed down on the topaz, her digits feeling thick and useless. Her grip didn’t feel as sure.
“It’s happening?” Fingers asked, kneeling down beside her.
She didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to think it was happening now. Her obsidian mind wasn’t receiving a clear signal, distorted by a hiss, almost a whisper. A wave of fear washed through her. The ground shook from the crystalman, Ōbhin and her friends fought for their lives, and she was about to be rendered helpless.
“I hate this, Fingers,” she said, her eyes stinging with tears.
“I know,” he said, his hand covering hers, holding the healer. Her eyes focused on his swollen, red knuckles. “I’m here for you. Ōbhin will figure out how to defeat that thing. You got nothing to worry about.”
“Thank you,” she whispered with numbing lips and a thick tongue. She stared into his eyes as she fought to stay in her body.
*
Ōbhin’s sword could do nothing against the automaton. He retreated, leading the crystalman from where Avena had fallen. The orange light of the topaz glowed over there, giving him hope for her. Injured, but not dead. He had to believe that, or what was the point of any of this? Dajouth and Bran flanked him.
“How do we defeat this?” Ōbhin asked, throwing a glance over at Dualayn at the mouth of the ramp, two diamond lanterns at his feet.
“The, uh . . .” stammered Dualayn while Ōbhin slashed at an incoming fist, deflecting it to the side as he retreated. Bran and Dajouth both swung their binders, trying to hit the arm. Dajouth’s landed, a burst of energy binding about the arm.
It did nothing to hinder the crystalman.
“Let’s see . . .” Dualayn muttered as the hulk lumbered on, forcing Ōbhin and his two companions to scatter as it swung massive arms down at them.
