Call of Destiny

by Adams, P R

  Riyun kicked the floor with the toe of his boot. “I know I can come across as a real ass—”

  “This is not about you.”

  “Yeah? Well, I want to make it about me. I can get twisted around the axle about things and lose sight of what really matters.”

  Her eyes drifted up to his. “What is it that matters?”

  “My people. Not just getting you home alive but listening to you. I do care about you.”

  “You do?”

  “I wouldn’t be your leader otherwise.”

  There had been something in the way she looked at him—a hint of…hope? It was impossible to tell what exactly, but whatever it was, he’d chosen the wrong words, and the look disappeared. She set her jaw. “I will find us a way down.”

  There would be no arguing with her, not when she got like this. “One hour. Thirty minutes out, then you return.”

  Rather than answer, she padded away, quickly disappearing from sight.

  When are you going to learn? When will you realize she’s the last person you want mad at you?

  And then scraping brought him back around, and his flashlight revealed Symbra. She seemed miserable, scratching at the clothes that now covered her bandages. Most of the color had drained from her face, which was twisted in discomfort.

  After another clumsy step, she leaned against a wall. “You planning to retreat?”

  “It’s not a retreat. A dead end is a dead end.”

  “The way Naru talks about it, you’d think this is a sure thing.”

  “The story thing? Destiny?”

  “Even this sort of failure—” The Onath shrugged, then winced. “She called it some sort of cycle.”

  “The struggle and all the small failures between the small victories. You get vague enough, you can describe anything with the same words.”

  “So you still don’t believe her.”

  “Quil does.”

  “But not you.”

  Javika’s booted steps were long gone. There was nothing but his and Symbra’s whispers. “I believe in what we control. I believe in what we can’t control. I don’t believe in something being set in stone.”

  The young woman tugged at the bottom of the rough shirt she wore. “I know we’re slowing you down—Lonar and me. We’re creating a lot of extra work for the others.”

  “That’s how it goes in the field. The wounded need care, so you care for them, and you split their gear among the healthy.”

  “Maybe—” She sucked in air. “Maybe you should leave us behind.”

  “You don’t abandon the wounded. No leader worth the title would.”

  “You could come back for us.”

  “We’re a team. We stay together. That’s all there is to it.”

  He couldn’t tell if his words reassured her, but she seemed to accept them. She limped back to the others and slowly slid down a wall until she was seated. At first, she’d seemed ready to argue about Naru and Quil’s theories but was clearly tired and hurting.

  Abandoning the wounded—the idea sounded like something that might have come from Symbra’s training with Inner Sphere security teams. They weren’t used to being on actual battlefields. Maybe they just left the medic behind and waited for medevac.

  But there would be no medevac here. He was coming around to the idea that there would be no exit, but that burned in his gut.

  Snippets of chatter that never rose above a whisper echoed to his position. The team seemed calm enough, even if they were facing the prospect of retracing their steps after wasting hours.

  Did any of them feel like he did? Did any of them wonder if this was all pointless? Hirvok obviously did. Lonar? Tawod? The kid only seemed to care about being close to Naru.

  Riyun’s radio buzzed: His watch was over.

  He ignored it. What was the point? He wasn’t tired.

  Something moved at the edge of his flashlight beam. He straightened and brought his weapon up, then relaxed. It was Javika. She’d abandoned her search already.

  There was his answer: He wasn’t the only one dealing with hopelessness.

  Except, there was a confidence to her step. She didn’t look defeated and downcast. She stopped halfway to his position and jerked her head back the way she’d come. “There is a small alcove back that way. The floor slides away. There are stairs down.”

  He snorted. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Because it was absurd. “I guess we’re back to going deeper.”

  They waited a little while longer, giving everyone a chance to catch their breath, then she led them to the hidden stairs.

  Tarlayn smiled and seemed relieved. “The catacombs served many people from many periods. They were rebuilt, reinforced. These steps seem older.”

  Quil studied the stone. “That makes sense.”

  The pseudo took the lead position again, moving cautiously and quietly despite the extra load he carried. It was tougher going, the stairs narrower and winding in a tight spiral. One grenade or a burst of flame from a dragon, and they’d all be dead.

  But they were alone in the catacombs.

  About thirty feet down, they exited the stairs and entered a chamber intersected by hallways lined with skeleton-filled niches.

  Tarlayn searched around and after a moment straightened. The corners of her mouth ticked up in a smile. “This is it. The chamber we seek—” She pointed her glowing staff down one of the hallways.

  A barely noticeable smile—smug—settled over Naru’s face.

  Maybe she was right, but Riyun wasn’t going to let that change anything. Destiny or design…the only way they were going to succeed was by cunning and determination.

  He took the lead, weapon at the ready. The hallway seemed brighter than normal. It wasn’t the light from Tarlayn’s emerald but something colorless. With each step, the stone took on greater definition and a purer color. The glow came from an opening ahead of him. Strange characters were carved in the crude arch overhead.

  Quil hurried forward. “I would be curious to see if those can be—”

  Riyun waved the pseudo ahead, toward the lit opening. “Hurry.” As the others caught up, he leaned in close to Tarlayn. “What’s in there?”

  “The truth. The Light of Aheya, disciple of Alush.”

  “Could you give me a little more detail?”

  She strode past him, smiling serenely. “It is something best seen to be understood.”

  Of course. What was I thinking?

  He followed her in, stopping for a second just inside the opening when he saw what she was talking about. A stone table occupied the center of a large, square room. Resting atop the table was a black iron pedestal fashioned almost like a chalice. Sitting in the cup was a globe of white light. It must be some sort of plastic or glass with gas burning inside, but there was no obvious physical container, only light.

  Behind him, Naru gasped. “An…interface.”

  He stepped aside to let the others in but pulled her along with him. “Interface?”

  “Into our world. That design—the light and that stand? You don’t recognize them?”

  It hit him: in the observation room above the glass chamber. “They can see us through that?”

  “Maybe.” She squinted. “I doubt it, though. I think it’s more that they use it is an output. Maybe they can feed data out from here, but I think it’s designed to feed data in. To us.”

  It was just what he needed: more support for her theory.

  The others were now gathered around the table, staring into the white light. They seemed in awe of it, as if they expected it to deliver them from whatever they’d fallen into. Riyun hated the idea that they would accept some sort of external aid rather than seize control of their own fate. Then again, he hadn’t done much to build hope.

  Tarlayn settled dead-center on the far side of the table, between Lonar and Symbra. Where the old woman had been rattled by the collapse in the hallway before, she now stood erect and confident. “The light will guide you. Liste
n to its message.”

  That seemed to trigger the interface. “Welcome, weary travelers.” The voice had the resonance of someone old and wise, someone who had seen everything there was to see and had come back to share knowledge.

  Riyun stepped closer to it. “Do you know who we are?”

  Quil cocked his head, and Tarlayn scowled disapproval.

  But the globe of light grew brighter. “You have come to answer the call of destiny. Only those who have stood against the dragons and survived their fire can restore the balance that has been shattered.”

  He fought back a groan and twisted just enough to get Naru’s attention. “That can’t be real.” He kept it to a whisper.

  The hacker shrugged. “Every genre of entertainment has tropes.”

  “The people who play these games expect this?”

  “Something like it. Heroes need roadmaps. This is our guide.”

  Their whispered exchange deepened Tarlayn’s scowl.

  Riyun cleared his throat. “We need to know how to return to our world.”

  The globe grew brighter still. “Your path crosses that of the dread wizard Meriscoya. If you wish to return to your world, it will only be by traveling through the infinite realms he wishes to rule.”

  “He sounds very ambitious.”

  “His power is beyond anything ever known.”

  Those words seemed to drain hope from Riyun’s team. “We’re looking for another Outworlder, a woman by the name of Zabila Tromon.”

  “All paths intersect with Meriscoya’s.”

  Did that mean she was alive? “How do we kill him?”

  “He cannot be killed. He has transcended mortality. But those from the world beyond have the capacity to destroy him.”

  Naru nodded. “That’s the usual approach—we’re the special ones.”

  “Special” somehow equated to having to destroy something unstoppable, something of unequaled power. It wasn’t a selling point for Riyun. “What do we do? Where do we go?”

  The globe glowed brighter. “You must seek out the source of his power.”

  Riyun shot a questioning look to Tarlayn. “Source of his power? What’s that mean?”

  The old woman sagged slightly. “The tower where I trained him, most likely. I can take you there.”

  Lonar leaned against the table until his face was inches away from the globe. “You got this all wrong. You hear me? I can barely walk. Kill some wizard who can blow up a place like this? It’s not happening.”

  The orb emanated an even brighter light. “Not everyone shares this destiny.”

  “You mean some of us die?”

  “It is inevitable.”

  Tarlayn tugged on the big man’s shoulder. “Do not antagonize—”

  He twisted free of the old wizard’s grip. “I didn’t come to this crazy place to die. You hear me? I’m not dying here!” He balled his massive hand into a fist. “I’m going home!”

  “No!” The wizard raised her staff. “Don’t—”

  But it was too late; Lonar swung his fist. It connected with the globe, and a sound like a thunderbolt rumbled in the chamber.

  Then everything turned a brilliant, blinding white.

  27

  Pinprick lights danced in absolute blackness. The movement mapped to the slow onset of pain that filled Riyun’s conscious senses.

  He grunted. Or did he? Dust had settled in the back of his throat—dry and alien on his tongue. It coated the roof of his mouth. He gagged, coughed, then realized he was on his back and his head ached as if he’d been Lonar’s punching bag for a week. Blinking helped a little, revealing with each opening the room as Riyun remembered it: the big stone table, the gray stone of the walls and ceiling, the soft globe of white light…

  And the rest of his team.

  They were all lying on their backs, sprawled out like him.

  One of them groaned before heaving.

  Time to be a leader.

  Riyun rolled onto his side with a scrape of armor that pinched and pressed against his chilled flesh. Steady breathing helped with the remaining nausea. The back of his head ached, probably from where he’d collapsed onto the stone floor.

  Soft boots scuffed nearby, drawing closer, then a hand wrapped around his left arm. “It isn’t often the orb behaves in this way.”

  Tarlayn. Wizard. In love with vagaries. Riyun sighed. “The orb?”

  “The Light of Aheya.”

  “Right.” He got to his feet with her help but immediately doubled over. Hands pressed against knees, he breathed rapidly to fight off another wave of nausea. “Remind me not to piss this Aheya off.”

  “I don’t believe it’s pissed.”

  “Then remind me not to do anything with it.”

  “Your giant seems to have gained its attention. That could be a good thing.”

  “I’m thinking I don’t want to see a bad thing.”

  “The orb offers insight and blessing.” The old woman shuffled over to where Javika was trying to sit up and helped her to her feet as well.

  Knocking people out seemed an odd form of blessing to Riyun, but he was sure there was some small breakdown in cultural understanding. Maybe Tarlayn and her people enjoyed a good, rough nap, followed by a minor concussion.

  Hirvok groaned. “What in the Hollow—”

  “A blessing.” Riyun snorted at his second’s confused look. “Tarlayn says the orb doesn’t normally behave this way.”

  “Glad we’re the special ones.”

  Riyun checked first on Quil, then on Naru and Tawod. They were breathing, and Quil muttered something under his breath.

  They would be fine.

  Javika had run around the table and disappeared. She stood and waved for Riyun to come to her. Lonar and Symbra were still on their backs, but they were breathing. More importantly, the shirt Symbra had been wearing had opened near the bottom, revealing pus-caked bandages, which had also been knocked askew by her fall. Instead of exposing raw, infection-discolored flesh, there was slightly pink skin.

  Not puckered or misshapen by scar. Just pinkish, as if freshly grown.

  It seemed impossible, beyond science, but Riyun wasn’t going to argue with what his eyes told him. “Is it…real?”

  Javika pulled a glove off and ran a strong, scarred finger indelicately across the pale flesh. “It feels real.”

  “How…?”

  Tarlayn’s soft boots scuffed behind him again. “The Light of Aheya. You have your destiny.”

  Could that mean Lonar had been healed as well? Riyun shook the big man’s shoulder. “Hey, big fella. You okay?”

  The heavy weapons expert mumbled, then gasped and sat up. “Where are they?”

  “Where are who?” There was a faraway look in the big man’s eyes, but what mattered to Riyun was that there was also awareness and no sign of the pain and weakness that had been there since crossing into this new world.

  “The…” Lonar looked around. “The warriors.”

  “There’s only us, big guy. How’re you feeling?”

  The big man patted the plate of armor covering his chest. “The wetware. It’s running again. Rebooted.”

  Maybe there had been a blessing after all. Riyun tugged Symbra’s shirt back down to cover her. “Keep an eye on her for me.”

  Lonar nodded. He seemed nearly in shock, but he was coming around.

  When Riyun squatted beside Naru, her eyes opened slowly. He smiled. “Anything like the stories you studied?”

  She hacked and twisted onto her side. After a bit, she nodded. “Like dying.”

  “Well, it wasn’t that bad.”

  “No. Going underground…then finding knowledge and rising back up to the surface.”

  “We’re not up there yet.” Was that the story about the Hollow Hills and rescuing a loved one? Had he been denying himself hope by scoffing at the old myths? Was there guilt in knowing that heroes of old were brave enough to stand against death to bring back those they loved? “Apparentl
y, we’ve got some death ahead of us.”

  “This tower?” Naru held a hand out for assistance and struggled to keep her feet once up. “I’ve been thinking about that. Dreaming, I guess.”

  “About the tower?”

  “About…the source of power.” Her face screwed up in concentration. “I didn’t see the tower. I saw an abyss.”

  “An abyss? You mean like some big valley? Where?”

  “I don’t know. But there was…magic there. All the magic was there.”

  Riddles. Mysteries. Prophecy. Now Naru was having dreams when Riyun wanted answers. He wanted concrete facts. He wanted this Meriscoya to show up so they could blow him to pieces, get Zabila, and go home.

  Then again, Riyun realized that he had dreamed, too, although he couldn’t recall details. Like going through the Portals…

  He caught Tarlayn watching Naru with a troubled glare and stood. “What now?”

  The wizard frowned. “The abyss.”

  “She banged her head. I doubt that’s how prophecy is supposed—”

  “It’s the Chaos Abyss.”

  “The what now?”

  “The source of all magic and all power and all knowledge.” She leaned against her staff, brow pressed hard against the wood. “I thought we were being told to seek out the source of his power.”

  “Isn’t that the problem with prophecies? If you word things vaguely—”

  “No. The meaning is clear. She has seen it.”

  Naru didn’t seem all that different from the others, not as far as Riyun could tell. How would she suddenly be able to see something Tarlayn had missed? “I think it’s best we check out this tower first.”

  “If the prophecy is that we should seek out the Chaos Abyss, we would be fools not to do so.”

  “And if we waste our time chasing down something that doesn’t have payoff, then this Meriscoya has time to escape.”

  Tarlayn’s head came up, and there was a knowing smirk on her face. “Meriscoya doesn’t seek to escape.”

  “Good, because he can’t.”

  “You seem to mistake your role in this. You are destined to bring about his fall. Or you are destined to fail in pursuing his fall. There is no guarantee of success, and he certainly doesn’t fear you.”