The wizened man addressed the group, “Waymen, we need not be ashamed. After all, are not the brave among us still standing? Are we not even now walking across the Desiccant Flats where no Wayman has ever walked before?”
His voice was not as mesmerizing as Sparc’s, but he seemed to have gotten their attention. He walked the length of the group, staring intently at the others with his wide eyes and gesturing energetically with his hands.
“Great seer, I shall tell you of what has come to pass.” Lor said. “When at last you left our sight and the order was given to advance across the blood rocks, we marched forth in a line, nearly sixty dunes wide, as you instructed, keeping our distance from each other. Not a single shiv hesitated. So fixed and fearless we were that when the first shiv vanished, only those around him noted his passing. But soon, they too were gone, and more and more joined them with each step we took.”
There was scattered grumbling at these remarks, but Lor kept going.
“And then, something happened. Fear. Doubt. Whatever it was, it ensnared some of the weak among us and they broke. To call them shivs would be an insult to those who are left. Nothing more than the rusted scrape of a whittler’s knife—that’s what they were, and they got what they deserved! I did not mark who they were, but they were not from my thral, that I can assure you.”
Lor darted his gaze back towards the Reeves, shaking his head as if they were the ones responsible for what had happened. They gave him scathing looks, but Lor ignored them and resumed addressing Will.
“Their cowardice blew through the throng like a desert storm. The line fell apart. Men ran in all directions like motherless Welkin. The fools! Selfish, blind fools robbing the throng of its strength. If it had not been for the metal-fisted leadership of myself and the other Reeves, all would certainly have been lost.”
Lor’s face quivered in anger. His voice cracked and he paused a moment to clear his throat.
“All told, we lost more than six hundred. May they never be remembered in any tale!” He spat on the ground and crushed the spittle into the dust with the heel of his foot.
“It took some time to reform and gather those who had run off. But we are sharper for our losses, chosen one. We are the pinion which fate has given into your hand. Now we are ready. Fire us into the belly of our enemies!”
Most of the Reeves voiced their assent, though some shook their heads and remained silent.
“You have never spoken so well in all the days I’ve known you,” Spark said begrudgingly. “Best to forget this disgrace and move on. It is in the past. And now, what does the seer say? Are we still sufficient to dispose the enemy?”
Will answered, “My path is set, whether with twenty or twenty thousand. If a man fights in a righteous cause, numbers mean little. If fate is with us, who then can resist us?”
Several Reeves nodded approvingly.
“Then why are we wasting time jawing when we should be gutting our enemies?” Sparc lifted up his commanding voice. “To the march! Tasada awaits!”
Drawing forth one of the pinions from his back, he thrust it into the sand. The other Reeves did likewise and wordlessly set off back to their thrals.
The Waymen resumed their march, but the pace was greatly reduced. The whisper cannon had drained their spirits as well as their numbers. They no longer appeared anxious to test themselves against Oasis’ defenses.
The plains gave way to foothills. With the rising landscape and the rocky terrain, this stretch proved the most punishing of all, despite the slower pace. Each step seemed like two. They had to take extra care to find their footing. Adan’s solec allowed him to keep going, but he was beginning to fade.
Thankfully, when they reached Virid Ridge at the top of the foothills, the landscape changed again. The flat and rubble-strewn terrain afforded no direct path across. They climbed over what they could, but some of the rocks were almost hills in and of themselves and these they were forced to go around. They wound their way through the stony maze barely moving above a walk.
Though they did not stop, the water pouches got passed around more frequently now.
They no longer seek to conserve it because they know there will be fewer left to drink it in a very short while, Adan thought.
He took his fill whenever he got the chance. The bitter liquid gave him immediate relief, but never fully succeeded in quenching his thirst.
A thin layer of gray-colored dust and silt covered the Ridge. The air grew cooler and mist crept along the ground. It thickened until it swallowed their feet. Then, abruptly, the giant boulders and rubble ended. Ahead of them lay a silty plateau, devoid of rock. A few dozen paces ahead, the mist rose up like a wall, completely enshrouding the landscape beyond.
“This is it, the outer edge of Oasis,” came Will’s thoughts. “Here is where the Waymen will make their stand.”
Adan loosened the collar of his garrick. The air felt thick and altogether too quiet, the silt and mist absorbing all sound.
So this was it.
“Where are the somatarchs?” Adan asked.
“They will come. But before they do, I need to meet with the Reeves one last time. Come, let’s go.”
Adan did not want to be left alone, but he was exhausted and had no interest in talking about what lay ahead. He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“I’ll stay here and rest if that’s okay. I think the solec is starting to wear off.”
“All right. I shouldn’t be gone long anyway. Here’s some more kern. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
Will left Adan to chew on the rugged strips. The meal did little to ward of his anxious thoughts. After a while, Adan wished he had gone with Will. Left alone, he could not seem to keep his mind off the impending danger. Shafts would fly, the somatarchs would advance, the Waymen would fall. It was the Basin all over again.
He tried to tell himself that Will’s plan would work out in the end, but something inside him screamed to turn back while he still could. Death loomed in the chalky fog before him, his own and who knew how many others.
A shout rang out from one of the Waymen, shattering the silence. Adan couldn’t see who had cried out, but that cry was followed by another and then another.
“Ghosts!” the Waymen shouted. “There—coming out of the mists!”
Adan could see nothing beyond the commotion in the ranks of the Waymen. For no apparent reason, they started sending their shafts flying through the air. Pinion after pinion disappeared into the mist. Finally he saw what they were aiming at: figures dressed in white, walking out of the fog.
They advanced slowly, but whenever one of the shafts came close enough, they darted to the side with such dexterity they could only be somatarchs. It was too far away to sense their minds, but their methodical, unwavering approach was the same sort of behavior he had seen in the Basin.
More screams echoed among the rocks. Large numbers of Waymen staggered back into the rocks for cover. A few turned and launched pinions into the mist. Many who did so disappeared a moment later, their clothes puckering together before falling to the ground, formless and empty, nothing more than morbid decorations in the silt.
Adan did not have time to be shocked at the sight. The next moment came a sound—the same deadly whisper he had heard out in the Flats. He froze where he stood, unable to move. Another whisper murmured to the left of him, louder, and closer this time. Someone grabbed him by the arm and yanked him backwards.
“Get back!” shouted whoever it was, then added, “Stay down and follow me!”
As Waymen fled all around him, Adan saw Zain behind him, beckoning him into the rocks. The Wayman gave him an intense look and darted into the stony maze.
Another whisper of death passed by on Adan’s right, louder still.
He bolted after Zain, careening through the rocks, moving as fast as the labyrinthine terrain would allow. They ran until they were far enough into the rocks that they could no longer see the wall of fog or th
e misty plateau. Other Waymen streamed past, fleeing recklessly into the rocky landscape.
Catching his breath, Adan finally spoke.
“Thank you Zain. You saved my life again.”
“We are not out of danger. But we will rest here a moment.”
Adan searched the surrounding area with his mind. Will was not in range. Thankfully, neither were any of the somatarchs.
“Zain, you have to promise me something,” Adan said, struggling to catch his breath.
“If it is in my power, I will do it. Anything for the servant of the chosen one.”
“I want you to flee back into the Vast and save yourself—”
“But that would be dishonorable,” Zain said.
“Listen to me. Is it honorable to throw your life away against an enemy you have no hope of defeating?”
“But the Reeves—the seer—they have a plan, a way of defeating the guardians of Tasada,” Zain stated confidently. Though he had run just as hard as Adan, he was much calmer, much less out of breath.
“Listen to me, Zain. There is no Tasada. You have to trust me. It’s all a lie.”
Zain gave Adan a startled, almost offended look. “Do you mean that there is no city beyond the mists?”
“Yes—I mean, no. There is a city, but it’s not Tasada, not the one from your legends. It’s a place far beyond anything you could ever imagine. They have—they have terrible things there. It is not the eternal city. It is a city of death.”
Zain nodded, “Yes, that is just what the legends say. They say Tasada is ruled by an evil power and guarded by terrible warriors. If those warriors who came streaming out of the mists are not the army of Tasada then what are they?”
“No, no, no. It’s not like that.” Adan fumbled for the right words. “I can’t explain it to you, Zain, but I am begging you to just do what I ask. This is your only chance. Return to the Welkin and start a new life. I don’t want you to die.”
Zain shook his head in disbelief. Off in the distance the screams and commotion continued. It sounded as if the Waymen were slowly being driven back into the rocks. Soon, the battle would overtake their position.
“Just, please, please do what I ask!” Adan begged.
Zain’s eyes hardened in a way Adan had not seen before, “No. I am sorry, but my duty is my duty. I may not have chosen it, but this is my life. Perhaps the legends are false. But how can we know unless we face this enemy and see for ourselves? Though you are the servant of the seer and therefore deserving of my undying respect, I must follow the way of all truth until truth itself be proven false.”
Adan’s chest went tight like his muscles were made of kern. He was not going to be able to save this man’s life.
“I’m almost there,” Will’s thoughts tumbled into Adan’s mind. Adan had been so focused on convincing Zain to flee he had not realized Will was in range.
“The seer is coming,” Adan told Zain. “Remember what I told you.”
Will arrived with the sounds of battle close behind.
“Adan, Zain, there you are,” Will said.
“Greetings, mighty one,” Zain said, bowing low.
“The attack came sooner than expected. Thank you, Zain, for watching over my companion yet again. Someday, I shall find a way to repay you.”
“Service to one’s betters demands no payment. I do so with a willing heart.”
Several Waymen tore past them through the rocks.
“Forgive us, friend,” Will said. “I’m afraid we must take our leave now. Until we meet again.”
“In this world or the next,” Zain said, bowing low and disappearing into the mist-filled rocks.
“Good-bye, Zain,” Adan called after him, but his words were drowned out by the cries of the Waymen fleeing all around them.
Thirty-Five
On the Threshold
Adan sensed the mental presence of the somatarchs getting closer. Three of them were weaving through the nearby rocks, but they could not yet be seen.
“What are we going to do?” Adan turned to Will as Waymen rushed past on either side.
“We need to take care of these somatarchs,” Will answered.
They fled the clearing they were in and sank down behind a large boulder close by. It was almost as tall as Adan and six times as wide. Several other Waymen were already there, huddled together, breathing heavily, but from the look in their eyes, it was not from fatigue, but from fear.
Adan felt Will’s mind close in on itself. It was still there, but he could no longer connect to it.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered. Will didn’t answer. He just sat there with his eyes closed, leaning against the rock.
Several of the Waymen were staring at him. One of them edged closer. “Is he all right?” he asked.
“Yes, he’s just…” At that moment, Adan felt one of the somatarch minds disappear. It was not that it had moved out of range, it was just gone. The other two somatarchs continued moving closer.
Screams echoed off the surrounding stones. Two of the Waymen with Adan leapt up and hurled pointed shafts into the misty maze. Adan heard them clatter harmlessly off the rocks.
Then the mind of another somatarch vanished. Only one remained. Why had it not yet fired its oscillathe at them? It was within range. Maybe Will had taken control of it. Maybe he was taking them out one by one, just like in the Basin.
One of the Waymen who had thrown the pinions rose again and launched his last shaft. Then, whether because he was now unarmed, or out of fear of the approaching enemy, he bolted.
“Don’t—” Adan started to say, but checked himself. There were still others behind the boulder. He could not risk drawing the attention of the somatarch.
The man’s flight did not last long. Though he was as fast as any Wayman, he could not outrun the low whisper of the oscillathe which caught him in mid-stride. His clothes crumpled into a ball and fluttered to the ground beside a nearby rock.
Adan stared at the empty fabric, sickened at the way the man had foolishly thrown his life away. But that feeling flashed by in an instant as the reality of the approaching somatarch pushed everything else aside. If it had killed the Wayman, Will was not in control of it. Adan could be next.
What was Will doing? Why didn’t he wake up?
The somatarch’s footsteps could be heard plodding across the rocky silt. Paralyzed with fear, Adan shook Will, but he did not respond. The somatarch drew nearer with each squelching footfall in the silt.
With the somatarch mere steps away, the Waymen darted out from their cover en masse. For once, Adan thought the Waymen were the sane ones. It was madness to stay there any longer, but he could not abandon Will.
A moment later, the somatarch appeared at the edge of the boulder.
Adan froze, transfixed by its horrid, lifeless eyes. It turned towards him, holding a sleek, silver-gray pistol in its hand. Adan knew it instantly from the schematics—an oscillathe. At any moment the deadly whisper would come.
He closed his eyes and took in a sharp breath, certain it would be his last. He heard the sound he was expecting—the terrifying whisper—and then, the unexpected sound of metal hitting rocks.
“We need to hurry,” Will told him, his mind uncloaked once more.
Adan looked and saw that Will’s eyes were open. Will reached down and grabbed the oscillathe out from under a heap of white clothing. The somatarch was gone.
“You brought it here, didn’t you? Why did you wait so long to kill the last one?” Adan asked.
“Because I didn’t want to risk having to run out there and grab this,” he replied, shoving the oscillathe into the folds of his garrick. “Two more appeared while I was taking these out, but we can skirt the edge of the battle now and probably outrun them. They won’t bother chasing us if we can get free of the main body of the army.”
Adan had been so caught up in his fear of the last somatarch he had failed to notice the other two closing in.
Will rushed into the rock-fill
ed warrens of Virid Ridge with Adan not far behind.
The thick mists made it difficult to keep Will in sight, but at least they were safe. Adan had not sensed any somatarchs since they left the Ridge.
Now that they were past their enemies, they proceeded more cautiously. The silt-covered slope they were on got steeper by the moment. If they weren’t careful, they would lose their footing and slide down the rest of the way, and who knew what awaited them through the gauzy clouds below.
“Where is all this fog coming from?” Adan asked.
“It’s created by the atmos generators. We’ll be through it in a moment,” Will said.
The winds were light and pleasant on this side of the ridge and the air had a sweet aroma to it, unlike anything Adan had ever smelled before. He loosened his kaff to feel the breeze on his skin and to soak in the scent.
As the slope leveled off, the silt gradually disappeared. The ground became hard and smooth and dark, and the fog began to thin. A light shone off in the distance, slicing through the veil around them.
“That’s it,” came Will’s thoughts.
Adan felt his heart quicken and his hands grow cold. Oasis was near.
They picked up the pace once they hit level ground. The light grew brighter as they approached. There were shapes inside of it, peculiarities which the mist could no longer obscure. And then, as if a wall fell down, the fog vanished completely and a paradise opened before Adan’s eyes. It was boundless and verdant, like nothing he had ever seen or even imagined.
At first, he had no idea what he was looking at, but he did know one thing: he was inside Oasis. It was so unlike the model he had seen in the extractor he realized that the information in the device must have been incorrect. Instead of the endless array of silver-gray buildings he had seen in the projection, all he could see was a luscious, vibrant landscape stretching out before him.
But there was something else new besides just the landscape. Much in the same way he had discovered the extractor, he could sense another presence here as well: the esolace. It had no physical location, but was everywhere at once. His mind absorbed it as effortlessly as he breathed in the air around him. It contained a sweeping array of information: images, impressions, sights, and sounds, floating in, around, and through him. And as he drank in the seemingly limitless information it had to offer, everything around him started to become more recognizable.
The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set Page 25
