by P. R. Adams
She glowered and forcefully squeezed him against her. “Our advantage is in moving. A mobile force is always harder to locate.”
“Maybe we want to be found. Draw them here, and we could have the advantage.”
“You invite death. I would find this wizard and kill him in his sleep.”
“What if he doesn’t sleep anymore?” Riyun caught the flash of uncertainty in her eyes. “Alush and Tarlayn keep dancing around him pursuing some new sort of power.”
“You believe he has changed to where he is not even human now?”
“Look at what he’s done, not even directly. He controls things that can…” What were the dragons’ limits? It seemed as if the giant Niyalki might be immune to anything they could throw at it. They needed something devastating, a weapon that could get through its armor. “This place gives us an opportunity to at least clean our gear and maybe replenish our ammunition and supplies. We—”
Ahead of them, the others stopped. Riyun was finally able to pull free of Javika’s grip and squeeze past the rest of the team. He stopped a few feet back from Tarlayn, who stared through an archway. Beyond that, it seemed as if a fire burned. If the city had been attacked several days before, all fires would have burned out by now.
Unless someone had survived.
He got close enough to whisper in her ear. “A survivor?”
The wizard shook her head. “You see the light. Do you feel heat?”
“A fire in the fireplace, right?” But it would be too far for heat.
“There is no fireplace beyond that archway. It’s a hallway that connects this building to the kitchen and the dormitory beyond. And to the hall of study straight ahead.”
Although she seemed sure that something terrible was beyond the archway, she didn’t seem capable of looking at it.
But Riyun had to know what it was.
He shuffled up to the opening, noting the way the heat grew stronger even though he heard no crackle of flames. In the center of a broad intersection that led off to three other hallways sat a smoldering, bubbling fire. There was no other way to describe it. Sunk a good foot into the stone floor, the miniature blaze seemed almost frozen. Overhead, a perfect circle had burned through the roof. Rain didn’t fall through the hole. It was as if the heat were boiling away the water before it could pass into the building.
Except there was no hiss.
The wizard was at his side then, tongue slowly tracing across lips that were wide in astonishment.
He nodded toward the strange flames. “What is it?”
“I have never seen it before, but I have heard of it.”
“Something from one of the dragons?”
“Only Niyalki would be capable. But this…” She shook her head. “It must have slain one of the wizards. Despite great magic to contain the fire, she was still killed.”
“She?”
“The golden glow.” Tarlayn’s emerald grew brighter. “It was Oldinra’s signature.”
Riyun remembered the flame from the giant dragon at the boarding house. Tarlayn had saved them then. Her magic had turned away the worst of the heat. This Oldinra must have tried the same—possibly only protecting a small area—and had failed.
Was Javika right? Were they better off fleeing now, escaping this place where wizards had failed to use their defined and described systems to stop the monsters unleashed by one of their own?
Riyun had to believe that Tarlayn had brought them here for a purpose.
He had to believe they had a chance. Without that, there was no reason to go on.
41
They eventually made their way to the kitchen by retracing their steps to the room where Lonar had dried his autocannon. From there, they took the western exit. That area had taken even worse damage, but instead of a frozen fire, there were simply sections of wall missing. When Riyun found himself next to a gap easily ten feet in diameter, lit by a pale, blue glow, he pulled his glove off and cautiously ran a finger over the rain-soaked stone. It was smooth as glass and cold to the touch, as if something had sliced through three feet of rock while sucking away heat.
Quil squinted into the rain outside. “It looks like the work of a laser.”
Riyun sniffed his fingers. “Smells like a furnace.”
“Heated minerals and cinders. Yes.”
“What kind of laser leaves the surface cold to the touch?”
The pseudo bent closer to the smooth surface of the hole. “Magic can do things beyond our imagination.”
“More like beyond our understanding.”
“That is a prerequisite for it being magic.”
“Sure.” Riyun rinsed his fingers in the rain, then pulled his glove back on. “That stone feels like ice, but the rain just beads up on it.”
“Do you really believe we can stand against such a thing, Lieutenant?”
“We don’t have to understand it to kill it. We left two of those dragons rotting back at that quarry. Someone or some group of people left three times that dead here.”
The pseudo seemed entranced by the pitter-patter of rain for a moment. “Perhaps we had a moment of surprise that gave us an edge.”
It felt like the rest of the team watched right then. “Then we need to make another edge.”
Tarlayn and Alush hadn’t waited for their Outworlder guests, so Riyun did his best to catch up with them. The wizard slowed, maybe taking pity on his injured body.
She pointed down the hall. “It’s clearer ahead. The battle did not come this far northwest.”
The hall ran off to Riyun’s right. “This seems small for a university.”
“University is a word of your people, not ours. This is a place of learning, but there were few at any time who were qualified for what was studied here. Still, over the years, our numbers grew.”
“A lot?”
The older woman pursed her lips. “Of late.”
“Didn’t you say that you all shared the same magic?”
“Other than what the wizard brings with them.”
“Could that be what triggered Meriscoya?”
Tarlayn shot a flabbergasted look over her shoulder. “I already told you what caused him to do what he did.” She sounded defensive.
Alush’s glow intensified. “This path was always Meriscoya’s destiny.”
Riyun snorted. “If you saw this coming, why didn’t you warn people?”
“Prophecy does warn of a student rising to power and betraying the masters who taught at the Lyceum and of spurning a lover, but the particulars of destiny are never so clear as the generalities.”
“Sounds pretty useless.” Riyun caught pain in Tarlayn’s eyes. Lover?
The drone drew closer. “Alarms ring from the city walls, telling of an invader. Would you ignore because the invader went unidentified?”
Nonsensical thinking. Riyun wasn’t going to get caught up in discussions of that nature. People were always willing to make excuses or bend logic to fit their belief systems. A prophet had a vested interest in maintaining those beliefs.
But along with the pain, there seemed to be a hint of doubt on Tarlayn’s face, a hesitation when she turned away.
Good. Blind followers were as bad as charismatic leaders.
The hall ended at a sturdy, wooden door with no handle. The wizard opened it with a whispered command, and beyond were two options: what looked like the entry to a big tower off to the left, or what appeared to be a large banquet hall to the right. Two rows of three long tables of dark, polished wood, with matching chairs occupied the center of the hall. Beyond those, two arched doorways opened into an equally large chamber.
Alush’s glow didn’t reach the far end of the banquet hall, but Riyun didn’t need to see to know what was there: The rot of death overpowered the stench of spoiled food.
He twisted around and signaled Lonar forward. “Check back there. Any bodies, take them outside, far enough that the stench doesn’t get to us.”
The big man eyed the wizard. “I’ll find som
e blankets and cover them.”
Riyun nodded.
The large chamber beyond the banquet hall was the kitchen. The big, square space was broken up by ovens and work tables, larders and sinks, shelves and bins. Many of the storage areas held spoiled food—mostly vegetables. But there were jars of pickles, and hanging flanks of smoked and salted meat. Tarlayn revealed a hatch to an earthen basement filled with wooden casks. Ale, pickled meat, and things she waved them away from: It was exactly the sort of feast Riyun had been looking for.
He had his reward for his people.
Symbra found the ingredients to make a wholesome—if coarse—bread, and with evening darkening the stormy skies, the team quickly settled in. Firewood meant not only ovens for bread and stovetops for stew, but hot bathwater.
With Lonar on patrol and the others working in the kitchen, Riyun had Hirvok and Javika turn their attention to replenishing the ammunition. Tarlayn had mentioned workshops. She showed them an alchemical storage area, most of which was useless, but there were also all the items necessary to create gunpowder. Bullets? That was just a matter of putting elements of the alchemical laboratory to work. Blocks of lead, clay that could be used for molds, tools to cut the lead into smaller pieces, and a vented furnace area to melt it—they would have what they needed soon enough.
Riyun focused on the explosives, both what Tawod had been carrying and what could be crafted from the alchemical components. There were containers that could make for relatively effective grenades, and there were components that could produce blinding flares.
But everything required time and patience, and he was tired and sore.
At one point, Lonar swung by, dropping something on the worktable that held Riyun’s focus.
Until he saw what the tweak had set down. Riyun grabbed it. “Where—?”
“In the dormitory. One of the rooms. She had a bag like that. Right?”
The bag certainly wasn’t like anything that would come from such a primitive world. “It’s some sort of cartoon animal.”
“From entertainment vids. Quil told me.”
Had Zabila been in the Lyceum, or had someone taken the bag from her? If she’d died in the Tongalon Green, another Outworlder would have likely stumbled across the bag. Why wouldn’t they keep it?
Riyun unzipped the pouches. “Her tablet.”
The big man whistled. “I guess it’s not really worth much here.”
“Take it to Naru, see what she can do with it.”
“Will do.”
The big man left Riyun to his work, but it took some time to push the find from his head, and fatigue replaced distraction. He headed off to his room to soak his weary body, but he put off the sleep he so needed.
Somewhere before dawn, he finally gave in and headed back to the dormitory room he’d been assigned. Despite the lingering smell of death, the banquet had filled everyone’s belly. Hirvok and Lonar drank a little too much, as they usually did, but the team had a roof over their heads and a sturdy wall to their backs. That was all they needed for a few days.
Riyun did one last circuit inside the dormitory tower, checking in on everyone.
Quil had offered to take the first watch, allowing Lonar to sleep off his indulgence. Although Hirvok had convinced Symbra to share a room with him, he was too drunk to capitalize on the opportunity. She didn’t seem bothered by that, snoring nearly as loudly as him.
Only Javika was still awake when Riyun poked his head in her room. She sat on a wooden chair, dressed in undergarments, revealing dark, golden skin as crisscrossed with scars as his. Her weapons rested atop the blanket covering her bed. The guns were broken down, components gleaming in the candlelight. Her damp clothes hung from shelves lining the walls. Her armor was piled at the foot of the bed, each piece polished.
She didn’t look up from cleaning her sword. “You finally seek sleep.”
He grunted weakly. “Quil has watch. We all need sleep.”
“Except for the drone. And the wizard—she stays in the eastern tower.”
“Research. At least that’s what she said. She’s looking for…something.”
“You trust her still?”
“For now. She hasn’t done anything to make me question her.”
“When you asked her about Meriscoya’s reaction to these new students, did you think she was truthful?”
“No. But I don’t think that makes her unreliable.”
The Biwali warrior crossed to one of the larger candles and reflected the light with her sword blade. “She hides something. The prophet hides something.”
“Naru and Quil both seem conflicted about Alush.”
Javika sheathed the blade and hung the sheath from the corner post of the bed closest to the door. “Do you really believe staying here is wise?”
Riyun sighed. “No. Not for too long. Once we have what we need, we’ll have to move on again.”
“To where? Will you allow me to hunt this wizard down and kill him?”
“I need you too much to let you go.”
“What?” Her eyes were dark slits.
“Who else has your scouting experience? No one can climb like you. No one knows terrain like you. And Hirvok’s still learning how to challenge me in a meaningful way.”
She relaxed, but she had seemed on the edge of…argument? “Then we seek the wizard out together.”
“Operating solo…” He shook his head. “Not against this threat.”
Javika padded close to him and stared into his eyes. In the cool room, she felt like a small fire—a pleasant-scented fire. Much more pleasant-scented than the rough soap they’d found in the washroom. “We must all be more cautious against this enemy.” Her fingers drifted over the shoulder that had taken the worst of the landing when he had fallen into the quarry.
Then she squeezed the bruised flesh.
Riyun hissed. “Hey!”
“Tell me you understand this.”
“I understand it. I don’t want anyone else killed. You know that.”
“Good.” She returned to the chair and began assembling her guns. “Go and sleep.”
“Goodnight.”
He shambled across the hall to his room. His body was still one huge, discolored mess, but the bruises were healing. After setting his carbine and knife down at the head of the bed, he stripped to his underwear and slid under the rough blanket and sheet. In no time, he was drifting off, dreaming of Monisa and her laugh and her tender skin, so soft to the touch.
But at some point during the dream, her flesh toughened, crisscrossed with scars like his, and he found himself longing for her warmth in his arms rather than memories and loneliness.
He woke to someone shaking him and Javika’s voice in his ear. “Breakfast.”
Riyun’s eyes refused to open, as if someone had glued them shut during the night. “I ate too much last night.”
“Everyone did.” She shook him again. “Hurry. The others cannot see you sleeping.”
They couldn’t. Being in charge meant going the extra mile, making the most sacrifices. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and sat up. Javika was already in her armor: the deadly Biwali warrior.
His body ached. “Did you even get any sleep?”
“Enough.”
He shivered, surprised to find a strand of her hair on his pillow. Under her impatient gaze, he crawled from the bed and began to dress. After a bit, she helped him. He was in no condition to turn away any assistance.
She secured his knife sheath to his leg. “It quit raining earlier.”
“I thought it smelled nicer than when I went to bed.” It actually almost smelled pleasant in the room, same as she had the night before. Of course, now she smelled of the oil and polish she’d used on her gear.
“The sun will rise soon, and it will be noisy with everyone waking.”
Which was her way of saying the two of them needed to hurry.
They were the first to reach the kitchen, which was welcoming after a night with the shutt
ers open. While he sliced meat, she cut one of the remaining bread loaves up, then put water on to boil over the heating oven. Before long, the smoky aroma and sizzling of the meat had his stomach growling. While she chopped up cheese, he toasted the butter-slathered bread slices and scooped crumpled tea leaves into the boiling water.
The rest of the team was filtering into the banquet hall when Riyun set a platter of food on the table closest to the kitchen. No one spoke, but they obviously were looking forward to some of the bitter drink Tarlayn had shown him how to make. He poured the steaming, brown fluid into mugs that Javika set out. As strong as he’d made it, even the dead would wake.
Quil sipped, then folded a slice of toast around a piece of the smoked meat and a chunk of cheese. “Nothing to report from last night.”
Lonar chortled. “Except for some snoring. We’ve got this place locked down.”
Javika frowned, her signal that it was time for Riyun to do his leader thing.
He cleared his throat. “Don’t get too comfortable here. We can’t stay.”
The tweak nearly spat out the bite he’d taken of his toast. “I thought we were—”
“I know. I thought that we could make a good defense of this place, too. Until I saw that hole in the wall.”
Quil nodded. “The unknowns become a greater threat than the knowns.”
Lonar scowled at the pseudo. “Hey! Whose side are you on?”
Riyun took a sip of the bitter, steaming drink, then added honey to it. “He’s right. We just don’t know what we can trust about this place.”
Hirvok popped a chunk of cheese into his mouth. “I don’t trust anything. Or anyone.”
Naru bit her lip. “It’s dangerous, this stage of the…game…or the story.”
The game, the story…
Riyun was uncomfortable seeing the world in those terms anymore. “We have to remember what keeps us alive in combat situations. Rely upon what you see and what you hear. What you know—really know—it’s what you have to act on.”
“Y-you don’t think this is a game? I mean modeled after—”
“I think you and Quil are right that this is a designed world. But I’m also thinking that some elements aren’t going to plan.” Riyun gave a subtle nod to Symbra when she looked up from her drink. “And I think part of the problem is that the designers didn’t understand how things might evolve because they didn’t understand the source material. More importantly, I think they failed to regard the people they created as independent.”
