by Scott Hale
I pressed forward, portal be damned. This was a binary situation I found myself in. Either I would escape, or I would not. But where was I to go? The strip of earth I navigated radiated outward in all directions, some doubling back the way of the staircase, the others going further still, deep into the even darker depths not even the invisible lights could penetrate. But as I wandered blindly, I noticed the Membrane once more, imposing itself into this realm. Here and there, those thick, muscular walls cordoned off areas so as to prevent passage. Though they were hard to look at, those disturbing murals of discarded organs and entrails were a welcome sign that I had not yet strayed too far.
Surrounded by inhuman things, I was reminded of my own humanity. Hunger, thirst, and sheer exhaustion were beginning to take a toll. When one plunges into a place such as that ancient temple beneath the sands, one does not expect to be done-in by dehydration or sleep deprivation. But then I saw something, something purposeful, something of intelligence and meaning, and I put aside my own mortality and donned immortal indifference.
The thin slice of earth came to an end, and beyond it, a red chasm of ruin. But I strayed from that sight, for it was too distant, and my eyes only saw what my imagination wanted them to see. Instead, I went to the nearest wall, where it was covered in strange, tubular growths, like veins that had been extracted from a body. Beyond the growths, I saw that the wall went further back, to another chamber, where, again, the strange architecture was present. There, large archways stood on islands in a sea of nothingness, and crowning each archway were gems of magnificent color. White, red, and green on one side; gray, yellow, purple, and blue, the other. Each color had an archway and island all its own, and pressing my face through the veins, I saw that these islands were not made of stone or earth, but something else entirely. I could not reach the red chasm of ruin, but if I were careful enough, I could cross the vermillion veins and follow the causeway that ran under them and between those eldritch islands.
As I ducked and weaved through the vermillion veins, a part of me came to the conclusion that I would die here. I did not know where Deacon Wake had gone to contract ghoulism, but at that moment, I wished that I did and had gone there first. I had no doubt in my mind that I was close to stumbling upon ancient knowledge, and to think that I would be the only one of our world to carry it seemed cruel. In my selflessness, I became selfish, and perhaps that is why I sit here now and recount these recollections. Because the Worms of the Earth indulge selfishness, and they knew that, if I had done all of this for good alone, they would have had to let me perish in that otherworldly waste.
I do not know why I did it, but as I cleared the last of the vermillion veins, I turned around and took a bite out of it. A sour, invigorating fluid filled my mouth and, suddenly, I was no longer hungry, thirsty, or even exhausted. Bright, unfocused images flashed through my mind as I swallowed that red drink, but even to this day, I have yet to make sense of them.
I hurried across the causeway, towards the islands in their abyssal lake. On each of them, an idol was suspended between each archway, held there by silvery chains that looked like worms. For the red-gemmed island, the idol was a patch of skin. For the blue-gemmed island, a book made out of bones. On the green-gemmed island, it was a diseased skull. The idol of the grey-gemmed island was difficult to make out, but if I had to say it represented anything, it represented a firearm from the Old World. For the yellow-gemmed island, its idol was a shroud lined in gold. Suspended above the purple-gemmed island was the idol of two figures entwined, each one eating the other, in an unending circle of unfulfilled and everlasting appetites. On the white-gemmed island, the idol was simple, but poignant: a cross onto which millions of holy symbols had been etched.
Not all of the gems, however, shone as brightly as the others. For the green and white islands, the gems were lightless. I followed the causeway to these locations first and saw additional discrepancies between them and the others. Whereas the other islands had small stones identical to their gem’s color littered about them, these did not. Leaning out from the causeway, I saw that the islands were not floating in the darkness, but were propped up there by grimy, almost glass-like, ribbed tubes. From the bottom of the island, where the tubes started, to as far as I could see in the dark through which they ran, they were clogged with a dormant, but twitching entity. But as I had mentioned earlier, there were discrepancies. The tubes of the green and white island were empty, as though whatever had been inside was already let loose. Looking at the blue island, I saw that the entity beneath it was nearing the surface of its island as well; it, too, appeared to be moving towards an awakening.
At that moment, a gigantic black shadow fell over me. Not a shadow like those above, but the shadow of an actual beast, snake-like in shape. In a million voices, it said, “They have fallen far, and are what they are. Nothing more. They do until they’re done.”
Without turning around, I whispered, “The Worms of the Earth.”
The voices, pleased, said, “Through hell, we find heaven. Through them, they’ll find It.”
“It?” I felt my mortality returning to me. I felt the vermillion liquid bubbling in my stomach, eating away at its lining. “What is It?”
“Trauma, and rehabilitation. The One you did not look at, the One you meant to find all along.”
“Are two of the Worms already summoned?” I asked, closing my eyes, trying desperately not to look at the horror behind me.
“Yes.”
“Will more be summoned?”
“Yes.”
“Will you… let us stop them?”
The voices laughed. “You will have to stop yourselves, first. They are so large, now. Time has shown us humans will never stop.”
“How will they be summoned?”
“When they are known, and needed.”
My eyes opened slightly and glanced at the shadow. But the shadow was no longer there.
“Go back, Victor Mors,” it continued, voices echoing around me. “Your kind will see you out.”
“My kind?” I backtracked across the causeway. “You mean the shadows?”
“Sure,” the voices said.
I stopped, because I saw a little boy ahead, through the gaps in the vermillion barrier. He was standing there, half-formed, staring me down. “Hurry,” he said. “They will think you have turned on them. And if they think that, your bones will become the sand your people choke on.” The young boy giggled and then dropped off the side, into the red chasm.
I ran as hard as I could from that subterranean hell. When I emerged into the bright, lightless desert, the shadows swarmed once more and considered me. It was then that I realized they had not shown me the way so that I would learn of their masters below and give offerings to those secluded altars. No, these shadows, yours and my kind, these vessels, empty but for the hate and rage that fill them, showed me the way so that we could save them, and save ourselves from becoming them.
The Worms of the Earth. I think the phrase every moment of every hour, and of late, I have begun saying it aloud. And now that I am infected with this secret knowledge, I have started to see their presence in my daily life. Strange growths, strange people. Strange behaviors leading to even stranger occurrences. These supernatural entities are supernatural weapons that want desperately to be wielded.
This is but one of many entries I shall write. My knowledge is spreading, but there are many who reject it. In Six Pillars, the prospect frightens them. I have received many death threats from the Lillian Quarter. Mother Abbess Priscilla is especially infuriated with my speeches.
Two Worms have already been summoned. Do they, too, move against me? They are what they are. But where are they? For the —, I have my suspicions. But it leads them not to death, but prosperity. They do until they are done. But is — ever truly over?
In my paranoid state, I sometimes wonder if I am a —. Too many questions remain. I — black chalice and try —.
Felix closed the ragged notebook,
took a deep breath, and, for the first time since he’d started reading aloud from it, looked at Audra.
Winded from Victor Mors’ account, he said, “I stole this from the Mother Abbess. Now do you believe I’m here to help you?”
Audra pursed her lips and pinched the bridge of her nose.
The scrappy remains of Victor Mors’ journal hadn’t actually been stolen. After Felix returned from Saint Priscilla’s, he had found a small chest on his pillow. The journal had been inside it, past several layers of locks only the white key could undo. He read it once in his chambers. Abandoning his other duties, he hurried to this place, to share it with Pyra’s captive.
“Alexander Blodworth read some of a copy of that to me,” Audra said. She bit her thumb. To take her mind off things, she started to tend the plants inside her cell. “Some of it, but not all of it. He said I had a gift, but I thought he meant my gift for botany.”
Felix’s eyes went to the now much larger stalk at the back of the greenhouse. Its red markings no longer looked like teeth, but talons. Its roots were no longer in the soil, but bound around it, as though to stop it from spreading further. This time when he looked at it, not only did his veins bulge, but his heart began to pound, making him dizzy.
“Do you know what that is?” Audra asked, a spade in hand.
Felix closed his eyes to break the plant’s spell over him.
“There’s myths for everything, I guess.” She took a deep breath, stabbed the spade into the ground. “In Eldrus, I created the Crossbreed, a plant which makes others susceptible to control. Before I realized what they were… going to do with it, I started working on that.” She pointed to the stalk with the strange markings. “I had nothing else to do down here, and I thought Alexander Blodworth would let me go if I managed to… But I heard he’s dead. I keep trying, anyways, though.”
Felix, refusing to look at the plant, said, “What is it?”
“A Bloodless.” She walked to the gate and sat down in front of it. “This one doesn’t control. It just drains. Figured if I could make that, I’d either kill everyone in Pyra and get out that way, or it would just kill me and that would be that. But they know what I’m doing down here. They give me the ingredients. So I figure they’re just waiting for it to turn on me, and then take it for themselves.”
“Why don’t you stop?”
Audra shrugged.
One of the artificial lights flickered on and off. In that moment, Felix saw a shadow standing beside Audra.
Crap, he thought, shaking his head. Story’s getting to me. But then he remembered how Audra had used the shadows in Isla’s room to speak to her. And how, when he first met her, she appeared to be talking to something on the wall.
Audra wrinkled her brow. “What?”
“Your friends… Do you speak to the shadows?”
Audra’s back stiffened. “What?”
“Are they your friends? The ones that tell you things?”
She laughed at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I just saw one standing right next to you. If they’re the same, then—” Felix flipped open his own journal and began to write frantically.
Audra pressed herself up against the gate. “What are you doing? Hey!” She punched it, leaving a red mark on the glass. “Hey! Answer me!”
Alexander Blodworth took her before the murderer could get to her. But he didn’t take her as a hostage, but for what she could do. Felix ignored Audra as she banged on the glass. He was pressing so hard with the pen that he wasn’t writing words but scratching them into the paper. Justine knew she was special, too.
And Isla Taggart, she’s with the Winnowers’ Chapter. If the shadows are the same as from Victor Mors’ journal, then she had to know about the Worms before Alexander Blodworth told her. What did he say? Felix opened the philosopher’s journal again and reread the following passage: “No, these shadows, yours and my kind, these vessels, empty but for the hate and rage that fill them, showed me the way so that we could save them, and save ourselves from becoming them.”
Audra rumbled. “Holy Child, don’t ignore me. I am tired of being ignored. I don’t care who you are.”
“I think I know why Alexander Blodworth took you.” Felix closed both journals and jumped to his feet. He felt bad for feeling so giddy, but he couldn’t help it. “But you have to tell me the truth. Are they the same shadows Victor Mors saw?”
Audra’s lip quivered. “Why are you trying to help me?”
Felix heard something stir towards the entrance to this place. He looked back at the covered statues there; some of their sheets were moving slightly.
Because Justine told me to, he thought. But was that the case anymore? In the last three days, his entire life and what he thought about it had changed. And for some reason, this woman, Audra of Eldrus, was at the middle of it. But it wasn’t just that.
“Alexander Blodworth took you from your home, your family.” Felix tried to stop himself from talking, but it was too late. “He brought you here to make you something else. I think I can relate.” He rubbed his eyes, so the tears wouldn’t come. “Besides, god would want me to help you.”
Audra nodded. “Yeah, the shadows are the same. I mean, what else could they be?” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “They’ve been with me since I was a little girl. I’ve never really had any friends, except for them. They were always there for me. Sometimes, they got me in trouble. Sometimes, they got me out of it. They lie a lot. But I don’t think they can help it.
“I spent so much time trying to find out more about them, about others like me. Archivist Amon said that maybe I was a spellweaver, except that I could weave with shadows. He was really the only person I ever told. My twin brother Auster, and Edgar, found out later, but I don’t want to talk about… that.
“Yeah, the shadows have taught me things. I already know what you’re going to ask. They taught me how to use them. But I’m no good. It takes me so long to get it down. Once I figured out I was in Pyra, I used them to find Isla Taggart. And I spent months practicing how to communicate with her through them. I don’t think us humans are meant to do what the shadows can do.
“But they never mentioned the Worms. And they never showed me that desert. But I think I’ve seen those archways, with the gems, in my dreams.” Audra paused, swallowed hard. “The shadows always came to me. They were always there. They were a better family most of the time than my own.” She took a deep breath and put her defenses up again. “Was that good enough for you, Holy Child? Am I pathetic enough to be freed?”
Audra was drenched in sweat; the slip she wore almost completely see-through because of it. Her muscles were so tight that he thought at any moment they would snap. She was panting, and her fingers were constantly fidgeting at her side. Anyone else might have thought she was sick or had lost her mind, but Felix knew better. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t crazy. She had just bared a bit of her soul. Now, she was waiting to see what he would do with it. He had been in a similar situation once, that night when he finally told Justine what Samuel Turov had made him do in the South.
“I believe you,” Felix finally said, smiling.
Audra let out a slow exhale and started to relax.
“I think Alexander Blodworth locked you up down here because he knew about the shadows.” Felix read through his notes again. “Like Victor Mors said, the shadows don’t want to help the Worms, they want to stop them. I think Alexander Blodworth brought you here because he thought a Worm would be summoned one day. He probably knew what your family was looking into—he was always at Eldrus—and realized you were in danger there.
“He didn’t tell anyone, not even Justine, why you were here. If she knows what you can do, she will let you out herself, I know it. You’re not the enemy, but a blessing from god!”
Audra’s face darkened. She mumbled to herself and said, “Holy Child, I don’t think you have all the right facts.”
But at this point, Felix’s mind
was settled. “No, you’re right, but I’m going to get them.”
“That’s not what I mean. I… never mind.”
“I’m going to get you out of here. But if I do—” she would trust him better if the deal wasn’t one-sided, “—will you help me?”
“Of course,” Audra said. She started to suck on her greasy hair. “If you think that’s really enough.”
“I do,” he said. “I have a… friend. I don’t know what happened to her. But she’s trapped somewhere, too. Somewhere in that Membrane, I bet. Could you try to find her with the shadows?”
“Yeah,” Audra said. “I mean, I can try. Who is she?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Felix said. “This is just a big misunderstanding, Audra. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
Felix ran as fast as he could to Mother Abbess Justine’s chambers. Dinner had already started, so as long as he was quick enough, he would make it there before she sent a party out to find him. But as he crawled out of the hiding place and into the Ascent, he gasped and dropped the journals.
On the other side of the hall, one of the tall, humpbacked statues with the star-shaped heads stood. It was still covered, top to bottom, in the same kind of waxen sheet as the others, but the material looked looser, as though slowly but surely, it would melt from it.
“How? Who did this?” A cold chill ran like icy fingers down his spine. Not taking his eyes off the strange, shrouded sculpture, he picked up the journals and walked backwards down the Ascent, until it was out of sight.
There was a lot of noise coming from around the corner where Justine’s chambers were. Voices, some shouting. He could hear the Mother Abbess herself barking orders. Did something happen? Was it about the Winnowers’ Chapter? He didn’t mention that part to Audra, but he had his own theory about them and her, too.
“We are not having a repeat of earlier,” Justine shouted as Felix rounded the bend. He went to her doorway and saw not only her own personal guards inside the room, but Avery and Mackenzie as well. “If we have to tear Pyra apart—”
