by Aaron Hodges
Erika was surprised when the two stepped forward immediately. Romaine had chosen well, but there was another problem. She swung on the Calafe.
“We need more,” she said quickly. “To bring back what we find.”
“No,” Romaine rumbled. “You see that slope, those rocks? A single misplaced step could start a small avalanche. Six will make enough noise as it is; any more would doom us. If the Tangata have scouts out, we’ll likely fail anyway. No, you’ll have to make do with the six of us.”
Erika swallowed, but it was clear there would be no arguing the point. She nodded, and Romaine turned to the others.
“We need to move quickly as well,” he said, addressing those that would continue. “Empty out your packs. We’ll bring two tents and enough food for three days. Rope, the Archivists tools, nothing more. Whatever space is left we’ll need for these artefacts of the Archivists.”
They were ready before Erika had finished processing his words. Still reeling from the sudden turn of events, she stepped from the saddle and found her legs trembling. Sucking in a breath, she recovered her knapsack, then looked at the slope again. Loose rocks stretched up at least 600 feet before disappearing over a lip. She swallowed. Could she truly climb that?
“Good luck.” The scout, Travis, said from amongst those recruits who were to return.
“Same to you,” Lukys replied, and they embraced.
Erika looked away again, feeling inexplicably guilty. Angrily, she forced the emotion aside. There was no room for sentimentality on this journey, not with the fate of humanity in the balance—not to mention the queen’s expectations. Letting out a breath, she faced the Calafe warrior.
“Let’s be off then,” she said shortly. “I’d rather not still be standing here when night falls.”
26
The Recruit
It was growing dark by the time Lukys and the others reached the top of the slope. Lukys, Cara and Romaine had taken the climb in their stride, but the other Perfugians had struggled, and at points the Archivist had needed their aid to continue. Without her horse, she did not complain about their slow pace at all now.
Thankfully the night was clear, the ground lit by the growing moon, and knowing time was short, they pressed on. High above the forests, ice lay in patches amongst the stones and a cold wind blew across the slope, cutting through even the heaviest of furs.
Romaine took the lead, twin-bladed axe hanging from his broad shoulders. Lukys and the other Perfugians carried spears and their shields strapped to their packs, while Cara had refused a weapon. The Archivist didn’t seem to need any but her magic gauntlet.
The sight of the Calafe warrior standing tall in the darkness was reassuring, though Lukys couldn’t quite banish the memory of Romaine sitting slumped beside the trail, defeated. The despair that had flickered in the man’s eyes…
No.
He wouldn’t think of that. Instead, Lukys turned his mind to the landscape. In the moonlight, stark cliffs rose around them, surfaces glistening with ice. Fortunately, the slope had led into a canyon between the rocks. The ground still continued higher as they walked, but more gently now, other than a few sections where jagged boulders blocked the way. In those places they were forced to climb, fingers seeking out cracks in the stone to pull themselves up.
They did their best to keep silent, but at times the very terrain seemed to be working against them. The smallest of rocks dislodged would send dozens of others careening down the slope, and with the canyon walls amplifying the sound, Lukys was sure the Tangata must hear them eventually. Already he was beginning to regret speaking up, though what other options had there been?
Thankfully, Romaine seemed confident that the beasts would not start off until closer to midnight. If they could cross the crest of the hill before then, they would be safe—unless the beasts picked up their trail.
Even so, Lukys couldn’t help but jump at every tumbling rock, every shadow and whisper of movement from behind them. In the frigid darkness, it was easy to imagine the creatures stalking the group. The night was their world, after all. Lukys and his friends were only visitors.
He flicked glances at the Archivist as they climbed, wondering what drove the woman, why she had staked so much upon this mission. Did she truly think recovering the magic of the Gods was so important? She clenched and unclenched her fist as she walked, a faint light flickering from her gauntlet. Lukys shivered and looked away.
No, there had to be another way to defeat the Tangata. Surely using the magic of the Gods could only lead them down the same path as ages past, to a repetition of the mistakes that had caused the entire world to fall.
But it was not his place to make those decisions.
His boot caught on another rock and he suppressed a curse as it went scattering away. Thankfully no others were dislodged. It took a moment for him to realise the slope had changed. They were heading down. Movement came from nearby as Cara came alongside him.
“I hope this path of yours is close,” he said.
Cara glanced at him, then up at the sky, as though she could read their position from the stars. Her lips pursed. “I don’t know.”
A sigh slipped from Lukys’s lips. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, “I just hope the Archivist can make it.”
Cara glanced back at where Erika was falling behind again. “She’s stronger than she looks,” she replied.
“You like her, don’t you?” Lukys asked.
“She’s different,” the woman replied with a shrug, then grinned. “You all are.”
Despite himself, Lukys smiled. He watched as Cara strode ahead. She moved with more confidence and grace than the rest of them combined, each step barely disturbing the loose rocks on which she strode. Long gone were the days when she’d clutched her broken arm to her chest. How long ago had that been now? No more than a month. The Calafe healed quickly.
They marched on, the ground growing steeper again, though now that they climbed downwards Lukys had to be careful again about where he put his feet. Every mistake sent rocks tumbling down the slope towards the others. The sharper their descent became, the more the danger grew, until finally they were forced to take turns moving down each stretch of the canyon.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on Lukys’s shoulders as the night grew late. They stopped for a time to rest, though on the steep slope it was impossible to pitch the tents, and with the threat of the Tangata lurking in the background, they were soon moving again.
Eventually the moon dropped below the clifftops, plunging the canyon into darkness. A moment later, light flashed on the canyon floor as Erika raised her hand. Her gauntlet blazed a brilliant white as she took the lead, outstretched hand guiding the way.
Finally they found themselves standing atop a broad cliff, looking down upon a plateau some six hundred feet below. The Mountains of the Gods loomed overhead, their icy peaks lit by the first hint of dawn. Below, the plateau remained in darkness.
From where they stood, Lukys could see no hint of a path down the escarpment. Indeed, it looked almost sheer. But Cara was insistent, bidding them wait before starting off along the clifftop, her poise making the perilous walk look easy. She returned before long, and led them across to a narrow gap where a section of the mountain had broken away. The rubble left behind provided a steep but not quite sheer, way down to the plateau.
“After you, Calafe,” Dale said softly, glancing nervously at Cara.
Her teeth flashed in the light of Erika’s gauntlet as she grinned back. “Just try to keep up.”
Lukys’s heart lurched in his chest as she leapt from the edge. The others cried out, but to all of their surprise, she landed easily on the steep slope. Stones shifted beneath her weight but did not send her tumbling into the darkness. She slid several feet before coming to a stop at the edge of Erika’s light. Her face was flushed as she looked back at them.
“Almost like flying,” she said, grinning at them. “Are you coming?”
Everyone turned t
o look at the Archivist. She would need to go next, to light the way for the rest of them. Drawing in a breath, she followed Cara over the edge, making it look far more difficult than the young Calafe had. Rocks tumbled into the darkness with her every step, the sound of their fall echoing from the cliffs.
As Lukys started after her, he saw now why Romaine had insisted on so few. Even with just the six of them they were making far too much noise. Surely anyone—or anything—out on the plateau would hear the falling stones and investigate. At least the Tangata were behind them.
The light on the horizon grew as they continued down, the sun appearing slowly above the peaks, until finally Erika was able to dismiss her gauntlet’s magic. Watching her as the glow died, Lukys wondered where the power came from. Sweat drenched the woman’s face and she was pale in the dawn light, but that could easily be exhaustion from the night’s climb.
As they neared the bottom, Lukys spotted movement out on the plateau. His heart palpitated, and a moment later he saw a dozen heads lift from the alpine tussock. Standing on four legs and covered in grey and orange wool, the strange long-necked creatures watched the group of humans descending towards the plateau. With their slow-blinking eyes and lazy smiles, they were apparently unconcerned.
“Guanaco,” Romaine explained as they stopped on an outcropping of rock that gave them a place to sit. “They usually keep to the higher peaks. It was rare to see them, when we inhabited this land…” He trailed off, blue eyes on the distant creatures. “My people consider it good luck to cross the creatures on a journey.”
Lukys shivered as he glanced at Romaine. It was easy to forget sometimes that this rugged, untouched land had once belonged to his people.
“They farm them, in the higher pastures of Flumeer,” the Archivist said. Her voice seemed sad.
“Bad luck to cage a creature that has set eyes upon the Gods,” was all Romaine said.
He rose and started off again. Now that they were close to the bottom, the way was easier and they made good time. Lukys kept one eye on the slope high above as they walked, seeking sign of anything that might be following them.
The earth was dry beneath his boots as he walked, the rocks stained scarlet and orange. Looking at the tussock growing upon the plateau, Lukys wondered how it survived, how anything could live in such a barren environment. Even the last of the snow and ice dried away as they reached the bottom and moved out onto the flat.
The Guanaco finally wandered away at their approached, making for the distant snow-capped peaks. A light breeze blew through the valley and drifted up the slope they had just descended. If the Tangata had followed their group, the creatures had their scent now.
“This is it,” the Archivist whispered. She looked from the map clutched in her hand to the broad plateau. “It’s here, somewhere. Waiting for me.”
Lukys swallowed at the glint he caught in the woman’s eyes, recalling his earlier assessment of Erika. Whatever the Archivist claimed, she hadn’t come all this way just to save humanity. There was a reward in this for her, one that had driven her to risk near certain death.
Just get on with it, he thought to himself.
The sooner they found the ancient site, the sooner they could leave. He still feared the magic of the Gods, and what might happen when they stepped foot in such a sacred place. But the wrath of the Gods seemed an unlikely possibility compared to the ever-present threat of the Tangata.
Lukys flinched as a sudden, brilliant light swept across the plateau. For a second he thought their very presence there had somehow angered the Gods, before realising it was only the sun finally topping the last mountain peak. He glanced around sheepishly and was glad to see no one had noticed his reaction. Letting out a breath, he closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of a new day.
“We’ll have to spread out.” The Archivist’s voice drew him back to their present danger. “Divide the plateau up into sections. Look for anything that looks unnatural, rock formations that are too smooth or horizontal, sections of ground that are too flat.”
For once they did as the woman bid. There was no point in arguing, and she was right—they could cover more ground separately. It wasn’t like they could fight the Tangata if they appeared anyway. In fact, being apart meant if one was attacked, the others might at least have a chance to escape.
Small consolation if Lukys was the one to be caught.
The alpine grass grew surprisingly tall here, not so high that it obscured their view of any approaching creatures, but enough that it made searching for unnatural rock formations difficult. Lukys could only see the ground within a few yards of where he stood. An hour passed as they made their slow way across the plateau, then another, until Lukys found he was watching the path they had taken down the mountain more than he was looking for the entrance.
If the Tangata had found their tracks, how long would it take—
“No!”
Lukys swung around as a scream carried across the tussock grass, high pitched and brimming with agony. Someone was dying, under attack…but how had the Tangata come upon them unnoticed?
The scream had come from Erika. She stood a dozen yards from him, face pale, twisted into a mask of horror. The scream came again, seemingly drawn from the depths of her soul, as though someone had taken a hot poker and stabbed it through her belly.
She stood alone.
The suddenly she darted across the plateau—and disappeared.
27
The Warrior
Romaine cursed as the Archivist started to run, then swore as she vanished, seemingly into the earth itself. He froze, trying to process what he’d seen. The tussock grew up tall here, obscuring the ground. Starting after her, he lifted the axe from his shoulders as he went. Weapon extended, he approached the area where the woman had vanished…
…and cursed again.
“Blasted woman!” he shouted, coming to a stop.
In front of him, the earth had been torn apart, exposed soil and broken rock cast in all directions. At its centre was a shaft of sheer rock, six by eight feet wide. A steel ladder disappeared into the darkness. The Archivist had already vanished into the black.
Shouts came from around him as the others approached. Romaine clutched his axe tight, cursing the Archivist with every expletive he knew. Had she lost her mind? It was clear the Tangata had discovered the site ahead of her. What if more were waiting below, left behind by the group they had seen the day before? There was no other explanation for her actions.
“How did the Tangata find it?” Lukys whispered as he staggered up to the hole.
“They’re good at finding underground places,” Romaine grunted.
It was true, the Tangata preferred these dark spaces—but there was no way they could have known this was here. Not unless somebody had told them…
“What do we do?” Cara murmured as she approached.
“We get The Fall out of here,” Dale croaked, his face pale.
Ignoring them, Romaine crouched beside the broken earth. The Tangata had made a mess of the site around the shaft, trampling back and forwards through the dirt. There was no way of knowing their numbers.
“Nobody move,” he murmured as the last recruit, Groner, arrived.
A glare ensured they would obey. Romaine stepped carefully away from the entrance and circled the exposed area. It didn’t take long to locate the path the Tangata had taken to reach the site—a broad stretch of tussock had been trampled beneath their boots. There he knelt again, trying to determine how many had passed through. Fresh dirt had been trodden into the flattened grass, confirming his suspicions that the group had left. There was still no telling whether any remained.
Romaine sat back on his haunches. “They left,” he said, more to himself than the others. “It was probably the group we encountered. But…why would they leave?”
“Erika needs our help.” Cara interrupted his musings. “She’s…all alone down there.”
“That was her choice,” Lukys repl
ied.
“The Tangata are gone,” she replied, meeting each of their eyes.
Romaine let out a sigh, then nodded. Coming to his feet, he marched back to where the others waited, shields now clutched in hand, spears pointed at the silent shaft.
“Stand down,” he grunted, gesturing over his shoulder at the tracks. “The Tangata already left. Come on, we’d better go fetch the woman.”
The others exhaled loudly as they lowered their weapons, the tension that had built amongst them draining away. Lukys shook his head, face paler than normal as he turned to Romaine.
“Do we have to?”
Romaine forced a laugh but did not reply. Sheathing his axe, he stepped past the others and approached the shaft. Despite his reassurances, he was not sure what might wait for them in the dark. None of this made sense. How had the Tangata known to come here?
A faint glow was visible far below—the Archivist’s gauntlet. He hoped.
“Dale, the torches,” he said softly.
The recruit handed his spear to Groner and swung the pack from his back. He searched inside for a moment before coming back out with the torch. Once it was lit, he held it out for Romaine.
Drawing in a breath, Romaine took one last look at the sun. Then he grasped the flaming torch and swung over the side of the shaft. An icy cold wrapped around him as he started down the ladder. Holding the torch made the task difficult, but it was not his first time climbing one-handed.
Rung by rung, he made his way down into the depths of the earth. With the flames shining in his eyes, he could no longer make out Erika’s light, while those who came after him blacked out the surface. Soon there was only the darkness, only stone walls pressing in, the cold steel beneath his fingers. It seemed the shaft must go on and on, all the way down to the source of the world.
