Resigned Fate

by West, Shay

  There are never any easy answers.

  ***

  Jon sat near the fire, just as he had done for more days than he cared to count. Fa’ Vel had kept them in the same spot so long that the stench of their latrines stole his appetite. He had suggested they move to a fresh spot but the dark magician had refused. As he watched the fire burn to embers, Jon mulled over the images he had received from communication with the Kromin. He couldn’t figure out what use they could possibly be.

  Despite his inability to decipher the meaning of what Feeror saw while on the Mekan planet, the time spent in camp was exhilarating for Jon. Fa’ Vel had Jon up just past sunrise for lessons in using his dark magic. And while the prospect of touching the forbidden magic had him flying from his blankets and inhaling his breakfast, Jon held back while walking away from the camp and into the shelter of the forest. Tension hardened his muscles, causing him to stumble. Fa’ Vel pushed Jon past his limits, haranguing him when he couldn’t perform the feat the dark magician wanted him to do, insulting him when he finally did manage, saying that no son of his should be performing so badly. Sweat drenched Jon’s body as he clenched his fists, determined to show Fa’ Vel what he could do.

  The two stayed in the forest all day, stopping only long enough to eat a quick lunch, and returning to the camp after the sun set. Jon was so exhausted that most nights he would seek his blankets and skip dinner altogether.

  While working with Fa’ Vel, Jon barely gave those he’d left behind in the mountains a second thought. He relished being able to use the dark magic whenever he wanted. As the days went by, he grew stronger, able to come back to himself more easily and without feeling drained and exhausted afterwards. Fa’ Vel even taught him how to keep the black film from covering his eyes as he harnessed the forbidden power.

  “It’s a handy trick to have. Nothing gives away a dark magician faster than eyes that are black as night,” Fa’ Vel said.

  It was Jon’s dreams that haunted him.

  At those times, the faces of the people Jon had killed on Tranquility Island flashed in his mind, their glazed eyes silently accusing him. The voices of his parents and sisters whispered but Jon couldn’t make out what they were saying. Master Brok’s voice was the strongest, urging him to remember Lucian and Anali, to never forget the truth in the book written by Lucian’s loyal servant. When the voices retreated, he tried to follow, crying out that he was sorry, that it wasn’t his fault.

  Another voice drowned out those of his family. It was seductive, powerful, irresistible. It promised him power and riches beyond his wildest dreams. He melted into that voice, giving himself fully over to it and its powers.

  When his eyes opened the following morning, he would only remember the siren’s call of the dark magic. His family was all but forgotten.

  Fa’ Vel came striding into camp with a smirk on his face. “Break camp boys. We’re heading to the other side of the city.”

  “Why? It will be dark soon,” Jon asked.

  “You were right about the latrines. They really are rank. Besides, a change of scenery will do us good.” Fa’ Vel winked.

  The men hurriedly broke camp, eager to be away from the stench. Jon helped with the packhorses, and then ran to his own pile of bedding.

  “Get a move on.”

  Jon glanced up at the man already sitting on his horse. He hurriedly rolled his blankets and tied them behind his saddle, ignoring the shouts from the men in the camp to hurry up.

  “Get on that horse or be left behind,” Fa’ Vel said as he came galloping up.

  Jon finished tying the knot on his bedroll and hurriedly tied his knapsack to the saddle, not taking the proper time to tie a sturdy knot. As he trotted after Fa’ Vel and his men, he didn’t notice his knapsack fall from the back of the saddle and land in the hard-packed dirt, the corner of a tiny leather-bound book peeking out through the open flap.

  EARTH

  FORKA WATCHED AS THE LAST OF THE JHINN slowly made their way up the mountain, following the strange, wide path. It was slow going, especially with the wagons. The path wasn’t steep but it was overgrown. The drivers took a meandering route as they wound their way between the larger trees and bushes. Their voices drifted up to him as they yipped and hawed at the animals. The sound of hatchets and axes reached his ears as did the sound of trees crashing to the ground.

  “We’ve finished exploring the rest of the compound. There’s not much we can salvage.”

  Forka glanced at Robert. “What did you find?”

  “Bits of wood and metal, not sure what they belonged to. Some of the rooms were mostly empty but there were a few rooms with computers. We found the area where the generators are kept but they will never work again.” He turned to walk back into the tunnel but stopped short. He looked back and grinned. “Oh, and we found another entrance, this one closer to the blast doors. They’ve been propped open to let fresh air in. One of the Protectors also found several hatches that lead up the surface. We opened those as well. It’s not a lot but it’s better than nothing.”

  Forka grinned. That was the news he had been hoping to hear. He followed Robert into the tunnel. The concrete and rocks had been moved from the entrance so the wagons could pass easily inside. They passed several Protectors pushing small make-shift wagons filled with wood. Footsteps and voices echoed through the tunnel, coming from the large room just beyond the heavy blast doors.

  A young lad came running into the main room, out of breath and leaning on his legs.

  “What’s wrong?” Forka asked.

  “The Horde and the Cowboys are coming!”

  Forka ran out of the room and down the tunnel. By the time he reached the outside, he was wheezing and out of breath. Samson and Wild Bill sauntered up to the entrance to the tunnel, their people strung out behind them.

  “What are you doing here?” Forka snarled.

  “You were the one that invited us to join ranks with you,” Samson said.

  Forka noticed the man had lost much of the bravado he normally cloaked himself with. His skin was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. His hands twitched nervously and he licked his lips. Wild Bill mirrored the fear that oozed from Samson.

  Something has them spooked.

  “Why did you wait so long?”

  Samson and Wild Bill shared a glance that spoke volumes.

  “You saw something, didn’t you?”

  “We saw one of those machines you was telling us about. It landed in the mountains.” Samson shuddered. “Damndest thing I ever saw. The whole ground was shaking.”

  “It’s only a matter of time until they arrive here,” Forka mumbled.

  “Will you let us in or make us stay out here to take our chances?” Wild Bill asked. The man looked like he wanted to run at a full sprint into the dark maw of the tunnel.

  Forka hesitated. Allowing the enemy of the Jhinn into the compound was like allowing a grizzly bear into a room full of deer. There was so much bad blood between the Jhinn and the Horde and the Cowboys that Forka feared what might happen if they were forced to live together. And yet he couldn’t refuse them entry. The combined forces of the enemy greatly outnumbered those of the Jhinn. If they chose, Samson and Wild Bill could take the compound by force.

  “If I allow this, you will promise to keep your hands to yourself. You and your people will hunt on your own. If I so much as catch one of your men or women stealing a grain of wheat or looking at a member of the Jhinn sideways, I’ll throw you out to face the Mekans alone. Do I make myself clear?” He fixed both men with his most piercing gaze.

  “We agree,” Samson said.

  The speed with which he capitulated lent truth to what Forka already knew: Samson and Wild Bill were terrified.

  Forka stood aside while Samson and Wild Bill moved past, leading their people into the tunnel. Many of the enemy looked more scared of going into the face of the mountain than they were when their leaders spoke of the Mekans.

  A low rumble sounded f
rom off to the north. The ground started shaking, nearly throwing Forka from his feet. The people from the Horde and Cowboy camps screamed as boulders bounced down the mountainside.

  “Get inside, quickly!” Forka yelled.

  The landing in front of the tunnel was pandemonium. Horses whinnied and snorted in fear, trying to move down the mountain, fighting against those trying to force them inside. Boulders continued to fall, crashing into the people pouring into the tunnel.

  Not fast enough!

  Forka did his best to shove people and supplies into the opening, but there was only so much he could do. He moved away from the side of the mountain, driven by a need to see the machine coming to kill his people.

  The Mekan came over the mountain, its legs crushing the rocks, sending the boulders raining down on the people below. Some hit with a sickening, wet crunch when they landed on the helpless victims below. The machine stopped moving. A large drill emerged from its metal belly and chewed up the ground, dirt, rock, and all.

  We need to get out of here!

  His grand plan to keep the people safe had backfired in the worst way. He had brought them to the very place where the machines most wanted to dig. As he ran into the tunnel, shoving past the people, Forka tried to spot any of his Protectors or Chosen, hoping they could stop the panicked stampede long enough to get the people back outside. He spotted Robert on the opposite wall and called out. The man couldn’t hear him over the screaming and wailing of those in the tunnel.

  --I need you to contact the one called Robert. Tell him we need to leave, go back outside--

  Forka saw Robert frown as the clone communicated.

  --Leave? I thought we would be safe in here--

  --The machine is drilling right over our heads! If we stay in here, we’ll be crushed--

  --There’s no way we’re getting these people back outside--

  Forka shouted, pointed to the ceiling, anything he could think of to get the attention of those closest to him but the people in the tunnel moved forward, a wave he couldn’t fight against. He found himself at the blast doors. The opening was much smaller than the tunnel, forcing the people to slow down, adding fuel to the fire. They surged forward, knocking down those not strong enough to stand on their own against the onslaught. Forka’s stomach roiled as he heard the crunch of bones, the sickening squelch of frail body parts being crushed beneath heavy feet, the moans of agony and the screams of fright.

  Huge cracks appeared along the walls and ceiling. Forka imagined he could hear the machine digging far above. Small bits of concrete and granite peppered his face. In moments, larger pieces fell as the vibrations from the machine pushed the structure to its breaking point. He covered his head, wincing as larger rocks nearly sent him to his knees.

  The ground shook beneath his feet. Forka cried out, his voice lost in the cacophony of screams and falling rocks. Dirt clogged his lungs and he coughed so hard he saw spots of lights dance against his closed lids. The rumble of falling rock drowned out everything but his own panicked thoughts.

  Forka gasped as pain shot up his leg. He glanced down and blinked, his eyes registering the large boulder sitting on his leg. He was dimly aware of someone tugging at his arms. Not even moving an inch, he thought to himself. Someone moved into view. His vision darkened and he couldn’t make out who it was. Whomever it was shouted at him but all he heard was a ringing in his ears.

  He lay down on the shaking ground, unable to hold his body upright. Shapes moved above him, but he didn’t know who they were or what they were doing. Part of him was aware that a giant rock had fallen on his leg and wondered why he wasn’t feeling more pain.

  As the blackness overtook him, he could swear he heard a voice from far above saying they were trapped.

  ASTRA

  SAEMUS WAITED IMPATIENTLY FOR FEEROR and Moylir to return. Dread made his blood run cold. He tried to convince himself the vibration wasn’t getting worse but the when the leaves on the trees began shaking, he couldn’t ignore it.

  “The townfolk are ready to turn back. Rome is going to need your help to keep order,” Keera said.

  Saemus ground his teeth in frustration. “Stay here. As soon as you spot Feeror or Moylir, get word to me immediately.”

  He strode away from Keera and toward a commotion he only now noticed. Raised voices reached his ears but he was too far away to hear what they were saying. As he approached, he spotted Rome in the middle of a small group of people. His face was red and he jabbed a finger at the man directly in front of him.

  “I’m still the leader of the village council. Everyone stays here until I say otherwise.”

  “We don’t fancy staying here until whatever is up in them mountains comes down. We were safer back home,” one man said.

  “Until the two strangers return with word of what is in the mountains, we will remain here.” Rome stood his ground.

  “What are you gonna do if we decide to leave?” the man puffed up his chest.

  “You would go against the village council leader?” Saemus asked, barging into the middle of the ring of men surrounding Rome.

  “It ain’t fair that one man decides the fate of us all.”

  “It’s not one man. The council decides the fate of the village. All of them are men you voted for. If you don’t like how this council works, you can vote for new members next summer,” Saemus said.

  “We don’t have time to wait till next summer! We want to get our families out of here now.”

  “I know you’re afraid. Your whole world has been turned upside down. But that’s no reason to let fear rule your thinking.”

  The man opened his mouth to object but closed it with a snap. Rome took advantage of the moment of silence. “Please, go back to your families. Once we know what we are dealing with, I will send word of the decision the council makes.”

  Rome helped ease the men back down the mountain to where their families waited. When they were out of earshot, Rome turned to Saemus.

  “Glad you showed up when you did. I was afraid it was going to come to blows.”

  “They are afraid. I don’t blame them. Part of me wants to run back home, hide under my bed, and hope for the best.”

  Rome snorted. “You’d never hide.”

  Saemus gave Rome a small smile. “Sometimes I wish I could. Pretend I had never heard of the Mekans.”

  “I guess I can understand that.” He met Saemus’ eyes. “What will we do if the Mekans have indeed landed up in the mountains?”

  Saemus shook his head. “I don’t know. I was sure the Mekans would move across the land from east to west. If they’ve split up, they could be anywhere.”

  “If they are on the mountain, the council will want to move back down to the plains.”

  Saemus nodded. There would be no reason to keep going higher into the mountains if there was a machine there waiting for him.

  The people are lost either way.

  Saemus snarled at the voice in his head. He refused to believe that all hope was lost.

  “Saemus, they’re back!”

  He turned and spotted Keera running toward where he and Rome stood in the shade of a tall pine tree.

  “What did they see?” he asked.

  The fear in her eyes was answer enough.

  Rome clenched his jaw. “I’ll gather the council.”

  “What do we do, Saemus?” Keera asked.

  “Pack your gear. I have a feeling the council will order everyone back down the mountain.”

  ***

  Jon spotted the Mekans as soon as they had left the camp site. Their metal skin played peek-a-boo through the trees. Once they were clear of the dense foliage, Jon got a good look at the machines.

  The smallest of the Mekans was so large it could have crushed the entire village of Heart Stone. It had two tracks with heavy tread that chewed up the dirt and trees, leaving chunks of foliage and large tree branches stuck between the tread. When it stopped, a small drill emerged from the belly and tore into t
he earth. The Mekan moved off to the side. Two arms emerged from the sides of the machine and sifted through the pile of dirt, picking up rocks and stacking them off to the side. Another machine came along and picked up the rocks using its long metal arms, and then placed them on a moving ramp. The rocks disappeared into the body of the machine.

  The larger of the machines sat quietly. When the Mekans were finished picking up the piles of rocks, they would disappear into the largest of the machines. Jon supposed they were dropping off their cargo. In moments, they emerged to gather more rocks.

  As the sun set, the scene became even more frightening. Lights in hues of red and blue dotted the heads and sides of the Mekans, bathing the area in an eerie glow. Jon swallowed hard. The machines were more terrifying at night than in the full light of day.

  The horses fought their riders every step of the way, jerking their heads back and forth, trying to back up and run in the opposite direction. It was worse for the men handling not only their own horses but the pack ponies as well. A string of curses flew from their clenched jaws.

  Jon’s arms ached and burned. Each moment weakened them further. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer.

  A sharp yell and a shrill squeal sounded just behind him. Jon turned. One of Fa’ Vel’s men was lying face down in the dirt, his horse loose and running. Another wheeled his horse, intending to go after the runaway beast.

  “Leave it! In fact, let them all go. I don’t fancy fighting them all the way to Faerow,” Fa’ Vel shouted.

  “What will we do with the tack and supplies?” Jon asked.

  Fa’ Vel paused, then shrugged. “Take what you can carry and leave the rest on the blasted animals. Some lucky fool will think the good Spirits have smiled down upon them.”

  Jon moved to the back of his horse and cried out in dismay when he noticed his pack missing.

  “We have plenty of supplies. I don’t see what you’re so upset about,” Gelrond said.

  Jon didn’t say anything. He took the saddle off his mount and slapped it on the rump, wishing he didn’t have to leave the animal to make it on its own.