by CW Tickner
‘These,’ Gorman said, handing one to Harl, ‘once placed in the mouth, will allow you to breathe without trouble on the outside. They will also work underwater. I have kept them in as good a condition as possible, given their age.’
It sounded like magic to Harl.
‘Where did you get them?’ he asked, toying with the disk.
‘They’re from outside,’ Gorman said, ‘from beyond the vision, made by those who created my knife.’
‘Though the archway?’ Harl asked, amazed.
‘Much further than that, my lad.’
‘If we’re to go into the vision,’ Sonora said, ‘then you must tell us more about the outside.’
‘There will be time for that later,’ Gorman said, deflecting the question, obviously impatient to continue. He pulled out a strange metal contraption that looked like a tiny crossbow without the bow. ‘This is called a pistol. It’s far more deadly than a bow. Press the red dot on the side to activate it and then squeeze the trigger to fire. It has an extremely long range, but, alas, has only a limited number of shots left. I’d guess about fifty or so. Use it only as a last resort in times of pressing danger.’
He rummaged inside the box again and produced a long thin object wrapped in metallic cloth.
‘This holds the key to escape,’ he said, unrolling the shimmering material to reveal a sword. It was made from the same metal as Gorman’s knife and gleamed in the flickering light of the candle that trembled in Sonora’s hand. He held the weapon up before Harl. ‘It is long enough to cut through the barrier, although I have not dared to try it myself.’
Harl was elated. They finally had a plan, but before he could start thanking Gorman the old man pulled a final object out of the box. It was a small rectangle wrapped in soft leather. Gorman unfolded the leather cloth to reveal a fragile old book. It was worn and faded with age. The red leather binding was cracked and the edges tattered, but Harl sensed it was Gorman’s greatest treasure. The old man ran his hand over the cover and Harl noticed that Gorman’s fingers were trembling. The cover was as worn as the rest of the bindings and the writing on it was too faint to read. Gorman opened it to reveal pages covered with complex diagrams and text.
‘The writing is much the same as our own,’ the old man said, ‘but with so many technical phrasings that understanding its meaning is almost impossible. But if I were to hazard a guess, then I would say it contains instruction for making something.’
Harl had enough time to read “once the central component is fitted then replace the fuel linkage,” just before Gorman flicked over to another page.
‘The diagrams,’ Gorman went on, ‘depict machinery from the old times when man was much more advanced.’
‘Like the sword, Grandpa?’ Sonora asked.
‘Yes dear, just like the sword and pistol,’ he said, ‘but on a larger scale.’
He gathered up the items.
‘Here,’ he said, passing the bundle over to Harl, ‘you will need these with you when you go.’
Sonora frowned and laid her hand on Gorman’s arm. ‘You are coming with us, grandpa, aren’t you?’
Gorman smiled and squeezed her hand.
‘I’m old,’ he said, ‘and my time is mostly spent. The plan I have can accommodate only two people.’ He turned to the direction of the window and murmured as though to himself, ‘Although I would like to feel the sun on my face.’
Harl raised an eyebrow at Sonora, hoping for an explanation of the words, but she just shrugged her shoulders.
The sadness in Gorman’s face disappeared. ‘The plan is simple, but completely untested. You must head to the corner of the Vision and use the sword to cut a hole through, next to the black barrier. With a bit of luck and some fiddling, you can pull the cut section inwards. Then you should be able to lean out though the hole in the Vision and sink the sword into the black part of the barrier separating the worlds. You can then swing out and hold on to the sword. Sonora can climb out after you and hold on to your back. I suggest you secure yourselves together using a coil of rope.
‘So,’ Harl said, ‘we’ll both be hanging like fruits from a tree.’
‘Exactly,’ Gorman said and chuckled. ‘By activating the sword you should be able to let your weight pull the sword down through the barrier which separates us from your old world until you slide all the way to the bottom.’
‘As easy as that,’ Harl said.
Gorman frowned. ‘Probably not, but if you can think of another way then I’m all ears, even if I have no eyes.’
At the old man’s tone, Harl immediately regretted what he had said.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m just worried. This is all so much to take in.’
‘There is more yet,’ Gorman said. ‘When you reach the ground you will need to find an exit from the realm of the gods.’
‘The archway,’ Harl said.
‘That is one way, yes,’ Gorman said, ‘but I cannot tell you exactly, as I do not know myself. Most likely there is an exit beyond the archway. Alternatively, you can head along the base of the wall of worlds and search for a way out at the end. I do not know how far you must travel, but the main problem is being seen. There’s much more activity beyond the archway than if you follow the wall of worlds. It is a dangerous choice whichever route you take, but eventually there will be a way out.’
‘Out into where?’ Sonora asked.
‘A place without the blacking disease,’ Gorman said, ‘where you can start a new life for yourselves without living in a cage. But if you make it there you may not see another human again.’
Harl felt the blood drain from his face. For some reason he had never considered the possibility that it would be just Sonora and himself when they eventually left. His soul focus had been on escape. What life would be like afterwards hadn’t entered his mind. How would they survive? What would it be like to never see another person? He looked at Sonora and felt a fresh wave of love for her. If he had to face life out there at least he wouldn’t be alone.
‘That reminds me,’ Gorman said, turning his blank eyes on Sonora. He reached out a frail hand to touch her. ‘You must prepare the cloaks this turn, the way I told you, and stow your equipment behind the house. We must be ready to leave quickly.’
‘What will you do afterwards?’ Harl asked.
‘When you have left,’ Gorman said, ‘I will re-seal the hole, but if I am unable, I will use the breathing device I have kept for myself.’
‘And the people left behind?’ Sonora asked.
‘You have seen first-hand that there will be little stopping the disease without outside intervention,’ Gorman said. ‘If you can’t find help from beyond the walls, then there will be no one left alive should you return.’
‘But you said there is no one outside,’ Harl said.
‘I fear that will be the case. It may well be a one way trip and if so we will never see each other again. But there is no choice. It is the only chance for freedom and the only hope for a cure. So you must go. And soon. You leave on the next turn.’
Harl’s stomach flipped. He had always wanted to live beyond the barriers. He’d dreamed of it every time he had stared out, but having been there once he had no desire to return to the impossible magnitude of those horrors. If only he could have a few more cycles inside. Only the fear of the blacking disease corrupting Sonora made him truly want to leave.
But it was a terrible choice and, as he turned to look out the window, the weight of it settled on his shoulders. He only hoped he was strong enough to bear it.
Chapter 20
They have made tools using some basic materials that I gave them, and used the tools to create crude holes to shelter in at the centre of the tank.
Harl barely slept. He kept tossing and turning or just lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The next cycle was going to change so many things. Just knowing that when he awoke he would be leaving this cherished life behind, left him cold and shivering. What were they go
ing to face? How would they survive?
Things had been idyllic, like finding a second family to grow up with again. And then there was Sonora. He had fallen for many girls when he was growing up, but he had never truly fallen in love. Sonora was everything to him. She may have been a healer, but she’d bewitched him from the start and he hated the idea of taking her into danger.
Sleep overtook him in the end. Grim and dark, it dragged him down into nightmare after nightmare. In one, his hands slipped from the blade and he and Sonora tumbled down into the darkness of the Sight, only to be stepped on by the god as it walked past. Another nightmare showed Troy pressed against the Sight, Rufus stabbing a dagger into his back time after time while Harl looked on helpless from the outside.
When Gorman woke him with a shake, he groaned and rolled over, horrified that the moment was finally here. He had slept part way through the next cycle, which only seemed to make matters worse. He looked around the plush room knowing it would probably be the last time he slept in a warm feather bed. The windows had been cracked open and the scent of the woodland outside blew in, ruffling the soft curtains. He had become used to the comfort and familiar feel of the room. It felt like home. It was home.
His stomach flipped again at the thought of leaving.
‘It’s time for you to get ready and go,’ the old man said as Harl struggled from the covers to his feet.
‘I know, I know,’ he moaned to himself and then splashed cold water on his face from a bowl on the nightstand. He looked up into the mirror and saw the anxiety on Gorman’s face. Only then did he realise that Sonora was missing. ‘Is everything alright? Where’s Sonora?’
‘In the woods as usual, but no one has come to work at your house this turn, Harl,’ Gorman said. ‘I fear the worst. You must least leave as soon as it’s dark. I heard shouts in the woods as I walked earlier. I do not know what is happening, but you must take care. Hurry, Harl. Hurry.’
Harl dashed outside and ran along the path that plunged into the woods, making for the spot where Sonora grew her plants. It was only a short distance and relief flooded him when her gentle singing reached him. He stepped out onto the tilled soil and worked his way carefully between the delicate plants. She turned at his footsteps and noticed his lack of breath.
‘Harl?’ she asked, concern in her voice. ‘What is it?’
He rushed over to her and took her slender frame in his arms.
‘I’m glad you’re alright,’ he said. ‘Gorman was worried and sent me to find you.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, accepting his embrace. ‘Why was he worried?’
‘No workers came,’ he said, ‘and he heard people up in the forest earlier.’
‘I haven’t heard anything unusual,’ she said, ‘but that’s no surprise with my wailing drowning everything out.’
‘I love your singing,’ Harl said, knowing they weren’t the exact words he wanted to say. ‘We should head back.’
She touched his face.
‘But you’re alright?’ she asked.
He nodded, but then lowered his head onto her shoulder.
‘It’s just that everything is changing,’ he whispered, half-hoping that she wouldn’t hear.
She kissed his cheek. It was just the briefest caress but it melted his fear and he held her tight against him.
‘We should go,’ he said at last.
She nodded and pulled away.
When they reached the edge of the forest they could see the whole valley and town spread below them. There were vast plumes of smoke rising from inside the walls and the faint flickering of flames could be seen between buildings. No guards patrolled near the gate and there was no sign of life within the walls except for the spreading flames consuming the last few buildings.
‘Oh no,’ Sonora said and slumped down. Harl reached out and caught her before she hit the ground and, crouching with her, he eased her down to the soft grass.
‘This can’t be happening,’ she said. ‘What is there left?’
Tears glazed her eyes. He reached his hand out to clasp hers.
‘We have each other,’ he said, wanting his words to reassure her. Although looking down at the burning town he felt they were woefully inadequate.
‘What will happen if we manage to leave? What if we can’t.-’
Her words were cut short as he leaned in to kiss her. The fragrance of her hair filled his senses as he felt a tender hand wrap around his neck, pulling him against her.
He moved his own hands beneath the fabric of her white dress, up her slender legs and shifted his weight to move above her, the troubles of the world forgotten.
‘We should go,’ Sonora said. She sat up from the long grass and slipped her blouse back on over her head.
Harl rolled onto his stomach and gazed over the valley edge down across the fields and winding river.
‘Must we?’ he asked. ‘If we could just hold on to this moment a little longer...’
She smiled. ‘You know we don’t have time, Harl, and Grandpa will be waiting. We have to go.’
He sat up, drew her to him and sighed. ‘I don’t want this to end. So much has changed for me over the last few cycles, and now we face the unknown. I can’t believe that I’ve found you despite everything that’s going on.’
‘I know,’ Sonora said, kissing him softly on the lips. ‘I feel the same, but we can’t stay here.’
Harl lowered his head onto her shoulder.
‘The truth is painful, my love.’ he said.
A twig snapped behind them. Harl spun round to find Felmar stepping out from the shadow of the trees. He sneered down at them.
‘So what are the outlander and his wicked witch up to?’
Four other men hacked their way through the shrubs with their swords and stopped beside Felmar.
Harl knew the predatory look in Felmar’s eyes as they drank in the sight of Sonora’s body before she covered herself and he clenched his fists ready to fight.
Felmar glanced at Harl’s hands and shook his head.
‘I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,’ he said.
Three of the men, including Felmar, had darkened fingertips. Blacking disease.
Harl stood, taking his time so as to not startle them. Felmar had his sword drawn and adrenaline coursed through Harl, but his mind was blank on what to do against so many men.
‘So,’ Felmar said, ‘as the town burns, the two of you are rutting like animals, delighting in your heinous work as you hide up in the forest.’
The men around Felmar smirked and Harl felt Sonora’s clothing brush him as she rose and stepped behind him.
Felmar spat on the ground. ‘It makes me sick that you enjoy each other as people die below. But I didn’t come here to enforce the laws placed upon you, outlander. No, I came here for a different reason.’ He lifted his sword hand up and looked at the black streaks devouring his flesh, before pointing the sword towards them and pacing around them in a circle.
‘The leaders have perished and I’ve assumed command.’ He raised his other hand to inspect the dark cracks of disease spreading across the pale skin and flexed the digits as though to regain feeling. ‘I was certain there was nothing I could do about this, but…’ He smiled and tapped his chin with one dark finger, grinning. ‘I heard a strange tale today. As the light came, the high leader was dying with me by his side. A harrowing sight, it was, watching him cough up blood on his bed clothes, and I would have left him to rot, but his words compelled me to stay.’
He paused and pointed his sword tip at Sonora.
‘It involves your grandmother, witch.’
Sonora looked puzzled.
‘No. I didn’t know her,’ Fergus said, seeing her look. ‘I don’t mix with witches and harlots. But as the old man choked on his last breath, he told me how she had once worked for him and the other council members, mixing potions and such like.’
He continued pacing around them and coughed, hacking into his balled up and blackened fist
. Flecks of blood splattered the back of Felmar’s hand.
‘This disease affects the lungs eventually and the story the dying man told relates to a young boy placed within the world by the gods. He was found unconscious by a woman in the forest and carried in secret to the council chamber. His hair was the colour of fire and his strange clothes unlike any seen before. When the council members demanded to know where the boy came from, he told them he was picked up by the gods, although that is not the term he used. But before he could tell them any more, a fit of coughing overcame the boy.’
He continued pacing around them, sword held level.
‘The witch eventually found a mixture that cured the child, but the cure was only temporary and he needed to drink it every cycle. I don’t know what he told them after he was healed, and I don’t much care, but I know who this man was and so do the two of you. That blind old fool.’
‘Gorman?’ Harl asked.
Felmar nodded.
‘I don’t believe you,’ Sonora said.
Felmar laughed. ‘His hair may be grey now, but it was not golden in his youth. It was more the colour of a dimming fire. He hid up here with the witch-’ He stopped pacing and gestured at the forest. ‘- and stayed out of sight, wearing a hat on the rare times he ventured into town. I have come to the conclusion that the potion used on the boy might just work on this.’ He held up his free hand and stared at the darkening vein-like marks again. They seemed to fascinate him. ‘And you will make it for me, witch, as you make it for the old man now.’
‘I can’t,’ Sonora said, ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Lies!’ Felmar said, spittle spraying from his mouth. ‘The old man is alive and someone must be making his potion.’ He pointed the sword at Harl, ‘You won’t be needed, but we’ll keep the witch alive until me an’ the boys have had our fun and she has delivered the potion.’
One man made a swipe for Sonora. She moved back and shoved the man away, but Felmar stepped forward and struck her squarely across the face with his hand, making her cry out and stumble to the ground.
