Aquifer

by Jonathan Friesen

  She presses her finger against my lips. “Are we leaving?”

  I slowly nod. “My whole life, I prepared to come down in order to save the world above.” Another tremor, and I glance at the sky. “Now I have to ascend to save the world below. My father needs me. If Wren is right, maybe many more people than him.”

  “You are a great man,” she says.

  “I’m just a boy.”

  “Not anymore.”

  It strikes me; I have discovered a third kind of love. The affection for my father, the kinship with Seward — neither compares to the emotion I feel right now. To leave Talya would be to leave part of myself.

  “Do you need anything from your dwelling?” I ask.

  “Yes. Father is certainly shadow, searching the stratus, so I need to get there quickly. We’ll meet at the base of the mountain,” she says. “At the first stone of the crossing.”

  “Be safe,” I whisper.

  “Always.”

  We hold hands and dive. Aided by gravity, the trip down is much simpler, and we emerge at the base of the falls.

  “Courage,” whispers Talya, “and speed.” Again, she drops away from me into the stratus. Standing alone, I feel her urgency. I dash toward the bubbling stream and pound along its bank to Wren’s, my heart on fire.

  I race through the back door and grab my pack.

  “Stories and prophecies. Prophecies now fulfilled.” Wren kneels by the fireplace, eyes closed, arms outstretched. She wasn’t speaking to me.

  “Wren!”

  “Welcome back. We have so little here from the past. The deep past. Leave us the books.”

  A Wisher? Wren?

  “Ask your question, Luca.” She turns and rises, before sitting in her rocking chair.

  “You were just … Well, it looked like you were —”

  “Praying.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Like the Wishers; they do that. I always wanted to ask why. Why the dials don’t work on them.”

  “Their hearts have been seized by a strange affection, one that seems to render the coding inadequate. I met with them often above.” She sighs. “They are one of the few things I miss from the Topper world. Treat them well, Luca. They will do the same for you, and more.” She holds up a finger, listening to sounds I can’t hear. “You must go. Trouble awaits. But please, leave the books. Carrying them with you could be quite … dangerous.”

  Inside, I burn. They are mine, found by me, meant for me!

  “I didn’t carry them this far to leave them below!” My voice softens. I don’t know where that outburst came from. Wren’s done so much for me. “Why do you ask for them?”

  Wren turns toward the fire. “Where you’re going, they will slow you down. They are too precious to lose. You have no idea what lies in the pages.”

  Leave them here. It’s where I want them.

  Again, the voice speaks, this time gentle, urging. Like the rumbling of the stone, it comes when it pleases. Wild, unpredictable. But not frightening.

  Insanity should not be comfortable, but it is.

  The rage inside relents. There’s no reason to haul them. I’ve committed pieces of Father’s book to memory anyway. The words, like the route, will be safe in my mind, while the books … I remember the library. They will be much safer here.

  I undo my pack and hold my sole possessions in my hands. I glance at Wren’s kind face. “Okay.” I set them on the floor. “Keep them safe.”

  “Good-bye, Luca, my pride and joy.” She stands and peeks at the books. “You, though small, have just become our greatest Deliverer, and our most severe judge.” Wren smiles. “I hope we see you again.”

  “It’s a good chance.”

  She catches me again in her gripping stare. “If you should return to New Pert, do check in on my museum, will you? Perhaps you’ll find something that will guide you on your way.”

  I grin, remembering tea in the rooftop room.

  “I’ll do it for you.”

  “No.” Her face turns grave. “Do it for you.”

  CHAPTER

  25

  I reach the Aquifer, its last reflection kissing the subterranean sky.

  Evening People move around me, their words calm and relaxed. They have no idea that their judge-to-be is trying to escape.

  Those who recognize me pause to offer congratulations. I receive them, but have no urge to talk. Instead, I scan the crowd for the girl who makes me complete. Strange; I met her so few days ago. I shouldn’t feel as I do.

  “Luca!” Seward calls from the ledge, a stone’s throw down from the crossing. He runs toward me. “What be your business down low among the rabble?” He glances up the mountain. “Shouldn’t a judge be preparing for his big day?”

  “He should,” I say cautiously.

  “Mate!” He catches me up in his arms, whirling me around and setting me down. “Think of it. The wild sea, the smells of the wharf …”

  I stand motionless, and he steps back. “You be fixin’ to leave soon, as it were.”

  More silence.

  “You weren’t goin’ to leave without me.”

  “It wasn’t a conscious decision, Uncle. I escaped down, now I escape up. All I do is run. Seward, I know you want to leave, but think what happened to my parents. The odds for you don’t fall favorable, not after your conduct with the Amongus on the way down.”

  Seward breathes deeply. “Will you be makin’ me beg?”

  His eyes are desperate, pleading.

  “As much as I’d like to hear that …”

  Seward frowns.

  “There’s no need.” I place my hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have made it down safely without you. I don’t think I’d make it back up either.”

  Seward’s head falls back and his eyes close. “Thank you, mate.” He dances away across the rocks, spinning on the third crossing stone. “There’s no good in waiting. Darkness is close. We need be moving on.”

  I follow him onto the first stone and watch him skip nearly out of sight. Minutes later, he reappears, none too pleased. “What be your hesitance?”

  “None,” I whisper. “Another goes with us, that’s all.”

  “Jasper? I don’t know if I can endure — He seemed set on this place.”

  I stare up the street, still waiting for the shape, the form that fits against my own.

  “Not Jasper? Well, it can’t be Wren,” Seward says. “She’s put in enough time away from home.”

  It’s late. Talya should be here by now. Shadow to her dwelling, shadow to the shore. Unless the unthinkable. Unless Etria and her brothers contain her.

  “Who, Luca?”

  “Talya,” I hiss, with fury and concern and confusion. “Talya,” I whisper.

  “Oh, Luca. Her presence in our merry band wouldn’t bode well for her.”

  My narrowing eyes dart to Seward. “For her or for you?”

  “Easy, mate. Easy. Right you are to question.” He puffs out air. “You would’ve made a grand judge.”

  Half an hour later, I am still with Seward. Only Seward.

  “I need to go after her,” I say. “It should take moments. If I don’t return — can’t return — you need to understand. I will assume my role as judge. Talya is my choice. I won’t leave her.”

  “Please, you can only play the fool so many times before the Fates catch up to you.”

  “Too late.” I glance toward the top of the city. “I’ve already become one. Good-bye, Seward.” I run up the main road. Talya. To Talya.

  My legs scream as I dash through her open door and blink. I’m face-to-face with Etria.

  “Welcome, Luca. To what do I owe this honor? At this hour.”

  Think, think …

  “As my coronation draws near, I wish to consult your daughter.”

  I have no idea what I’m doing.

  “She’s through that door.”

  I peek over his shoulder. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Please.” He gestures. “See
for yourself that you have no reason to question me, though you’ve given me good cause to doubt you.”

  I turn the latch and pull. Talya looks up, her face tearstained. “No, Luca. Stay out!”

  Too late. Strong hands push me forward and slam the door behind me.

  I run to the corner, where Talya sits with her head buried between her knees. “Get up. This is our chance!”

  She glances at my hand, then at the floor. “Marble. The floors, even the walls of our back room, are marble. There’s no escaping this place.”

  “You can’t push through …” I rub my hands along the walls. “Can’t we try?”

  Talya removes her gloves and tosses them onto the ground. She raises her hand. Her palm offers no glow. “I’ve been swiped clean.”

  I kick at the floor and slump to the ground.

  “So what happens now?”

  All expression, all life has drained from her. “You will be our judge by week’s end. I will shortly be attached to Harani, the son of my father’s partner, to secure a deal made years ago. I will watch you and you will watch me for the rest of our lives, and someday you will be attached as well. You shouldn’t have come.”

  I stand and close my eyes. A boldness, and with it a trail of words, pounds in my brain.

  “How could I not? This isn’t our end. Rise and prepare.”

  Eyelids flutter open as the unbidden words escape my mouth. “Okay, that’s happening more and more. Thoughts and words fly in, and sometimes out. I don’t know why I said that or what we’d be preparing for —”

  Talya hops to her feet and throws her pack over her shoulder. “I like your words. So how do I prepare?”

  “I don’t know. The voice didn’t say.”

  She shakes her head. “That would have been a great time to make something up! Let’s stand by the door.”

  We do, and wait. And wait.

  A shout and a thump from the other room. The door swings opens. Seward winces, massaging his hand. “Didn’t mean to strike your father. But the man left me no choice. Luca, I want to go home.”

  Talya runs out and bends over Etria. “Nobody strikes anybody here. You hit him? In the head?” She strokes his hair. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

  “It wouldn’t have done much good to whack his thigh. He’s fine. Well, as fine as a sleeping man can be. He’ll come to with a bit of an ache about the fore.” Seward glances out toward the street. “I’d not like to be here when that occurs.” He turns to me. “Sorry, mate, it took me awhile to get the hang of the travel.” He lifts his pointer finger. “A jolly woman from the salon tried to touch my hair. ‘That won’t be happenin’,’ I says, ‘but I’d sorely appreciate a dab of light. I should at least give the stratus a try.’ Confusing, it is. I popped out ten times before I found you.”

  Talya stands. “This isn’t how I wanted to leave my father. But we need to go.” She grabs the back of Seward’s shirt and I fist the back of hers. We dash to the node outside Etria’s dwelling, Seward presses his finger into the prism, and we plummet down. Suddenly, we stand damp, but warm, on the far side of the Aquifer. It’s dark — very dark — but I recognize the wide space and the tunnel to the surface behind me.

  “Where we go, light will not be our mate,” Seward says, flecking the light off his fingernail. “Tell me you still remember the way, lad.”

  “I know it.”

  I remove the orb from my pack and rub, the heat drawing forth a yellowish glow.

  “All right. When I get going in the sequence, I can’t speak much or I lose my place —”

  A projectile barrels into my chest and steals my breath. I tumble back, the orb falling from my hand and rolling over a smooth rise of rock. Before I can scramble away, Seward and Talya crash down beside me.

  The captured Amongus.

  He sits on Seward, and with his free arms presses Talya and me against the ground. There is no escaping the strength of his hands.

  “Listen …” In the distant light of the orb, his gaze flutters, wild and fearful. “This is the world you … This is the place you sentenced me to. I can’t go up. I can’t remain. I need your …”

  His face twitches, and he releases Talya for a moment; only long enough to wipe his forehead. Sweat drips down on Seward.

  “You need what, mate? Other than a kerchief,” Seward asks.

  “Nothing from you.” He turns to me. “From you. The directions, the way out. Do you know them?”

  I nod.

  “Lead me out!” he screams. “Lead me out. Please. Lead …”

  The Amongus starts to cry.

  I peek at Seward, who returns the glance.

  I have no words. There’s no way an Amongus can be trusted, but I’ve never seen one cry before.

  “What a dear man.”

  Talya? You don’t know.

  “Of course you can come.” She slips from his grasp. “He can come. Can’t he, Luca?”

  “Oh, mate,” Seward whispers. “Don’t let pity sway you.”

  “I did when you asked to come along.”

  My uncle pauses for a moment. “But the difference is clear. You know who he is. He’ll reach the surface with knowledge, not of the route, granted — that he’ll not remember — but of this place. He’ll have us, and undo us, and then what of Massa? Who will save him?”

  I stand up. “If I do this — if we let you come — will you harm us?”

  The Amongus moans. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  Talya steps forward and hugs him. The Amongus stiffens, stares down at her. “Luca, that’s enough. This truth is enough for me.”

  I exhale hard. “Okay, then we go. Four started the descent, four will go up.”

  Seward shakes his head. “A tragic turn, mark my words.”

  I brush myself off, and Seward retrieves the orb, but Talya, she stands statued, gazing at the Aquifer.

  “It’s hard to leave home.”

  Seward steps to her side. “You may want to give it a second thought. There will be no returning as I can see … What’s that? What’s happening?” A thousand dots of light illuminating the distant city grow dim.

  “They wouldn’t …” Talya squints. “They would! The stratus is so near the surface beneath the sea. They come!”

  Surging nearer, a multitude of light beams set the Aquifer on fire. Like underground shooting stars, they neither slow nor surface.

  “Father has alerted the city.” Talya grabs me and runs. “They’ll take you by force. We must get off the Aquifer!”

  We sprint away from the shore as the sound of voices echo in the tunnel.

  “Luca! Talya!” Etria’s voice grows faint. “There is no choice for either of you!”

  I scramble forward, wanting only to be the same, loathing the feeling of Other. I was pursued down. Now I am pursued on the ascent.

  I am Luca. I am special. And for that, I am cursed.

  CHAPTER

  26

  We ascend in silence, though there is much to say. All energy must go toward the climb. Shuffling feet and shifting stones seem but a few steps behind us, but each time I pause, my heartbeat alone throbs in my ears.

  Seward gently turns my head toward the task before us. “Etria’s fallen away long ago; their knowledge of the route be no greater than that of the Toppers. He wouldn’t leave his world.”

  But I’m not so sure. His only daughter is at my side. How far would Father pursue if he thought me in danger? Until he dropped. I’m sure of it.

  I take another peek back, think I see a shadow shift behind the last bend, and plod on.

  Always, the Amongus walks two steps ahead, glancing over his shoulder at each decision point, and nodding when I gesture the correct direction. He seems to feel an urgency.

  But a hundred turns later, even I’m convinced there is none, and we pause often to rest. Talya, especially, struggles to breathe, though she does not say it. I wonder if I am leading her to an undoing. I wonder if Father harbored the same th
ought about Mother.

  We reach the thin path and wind slowly upward, hugging the mountain that rises this time on our left. The path has crumbled since last I walked it, as if thousands have wound its span, though I know that can’t be true. After several slips, we reach the archway and pause. Five dials lie on the ground. They whir and spin.

  The Amongus gently gathers them. I swallow hard. Seward stares at me and folds his arms. I hear his unspoken words, feel their truth — you can’t change an Amongus.

  But for good or ill, the die is cast. The one I fear strokes the dials and glances at each one of us in turn.

  And then suddenly, violently, he flings them, one by one, over the edge. He stares out after them. An Amongus without a dial is nothing. He just threw his life away.

  “Phale,” he speaks without turning. “My name is Phale.”

  A name. I suppose they all do have one. Mape does, though as the head of the New Pertian regiment, he’s a unique case. The others, they have nicknames: Stinker. Barker. Fishlips. I’ve never heard a name offered.

  “Phale,” Talya repeats. “I like it.” She points over the edge. “What were those?”

  Phale stares at me. “Those are our judges. I make no decision without consulting them, and their verdicts are final.” His face softens. “Pieces of metal and glass. Owned by pieces of metal and glass. What have we become?”

  He walks through the archway and up the tunnel.

  “Are you still concerned?” I pat Seward on the back.

  “More than ever. At least before we knew the enemy. There be safety in that — Whoa! To the ground! Take cover!”

  I pull Talya to the floor and shield her body with my own. For a minute the tunnel rumbles, as a thin crack widens and works its way up the right wall. The tube eventually falls quiet, and I remove my hands from my head. I rise slowly. “I think that’s it.”

  Suddenly, the ground heaves, opening beneath my feet. Rocks crumble from the ceiling of the passageway. Seward, Talya, and I leap beneath an outcrop, but in the darkness ahead, Phale disappears in a plume of smoke.

  “Phale!” Seward hollers. “Every one, farther away from the cliff!”

  We cough and sputter and climb over fallen rock, making our way forward to where Phale lies, a boulder split inches from his head.