by CW Tickner
He tightened his grip and prepared for the decent.
‘Ready,’ he said, hoping he sounded confident enough to reassure Sonora. He pressed the button and felt a smooth jolt as the sword warmed up. The blade sunk a fraction deeper into the smooth black wall, then melted its way down in a straight line, cutting through the barrier and lowering them slowly towards the ground.
Chapter 22
I have to keep them a secret until I am ready to reveal them, but until they settle down I will pen another report on them and over time build up a collection of articles to place inside a book.
The descent was slow. At first the fear of loosing his grip on the sword hilt and falling had struck Harl in an almost paralysing wave of terror. The sheer height and scale of everything around them gave him waves of vertigo, but as the fear receded he began to admire the view on either side within the brightly lit rectangles. It was a glimpse into other worlds and it gave him a strange sense of disconnection. How was it possible to be out here looking in? He had lived trapped inside one of these cubes for so long that seeing everything spread out around him felt like a dream or a nightmare. How could it be real?
‘Look!’ Sonora said, tightening her arm around his neck and pointing her free hand at the landscape directly below their old world.
The entire world was full of thick, dense forest. It was even pressed up against the Sight. Huge, broad-leaved plants stretched out to steal as much light as possible in the tangled mass that grew beneath the forest. The trees themselves reached nearly to the top of the world. Some had put out thick horizontal trunks that were dotted with smaller plants along their length, like a second forest floor. A swathe of brown soil and decaying leaves formed a thick layer at the bottom of the world.
‘I don’t see anything,’ he said, scanning the greenery for something out of place.
‘It’s gone now,’ Sonora said. ‘There was a person up in the canopy, or at least it looked like a person. I swear it was covered in thick black hair.’
‘I think we’ll see a lot of strange sights before we’re done,’ Harl said, focusing on controlling their descent.
The world on their right was bleak and barren. Shrivelled tufts of grass were scattered at random across its low-lying hills and a dry river bed snaked across the landscape, ending in a distant bowl-shaped pit. There were sheer grey cliffs in the distance. They backed up against the far side, as if the world was divided between the high ground on one side and low lands on the nearest. The whole place looked dead.
What it would be like to live in there? Sonora’s world had seemed alien to him, but this just felt wrong. Dust swirled up against the glass as he peered in and he pictured walking around inside; no life, no trees, just the looming cliffs and desiccated grass. It looked tortured and lonely, as though the God had abandoned it lifetimes ago. He turned away, a shiver of apprehension running down his spine.
The next landscape to their right resembled both the worlds he had been inside. He could make out a town set squarely in the centre of the landscape. It was nestled between smooth, grass-covered hills, with a fast-flowing river running through the valleys to a large lake at one end of the world. Floating in the calm water were dozens of boats of various shapes and sizes. Small fishing boats trailed nets behind them and massive two-story vessels were tied up at the dock on one side of the shore.
He was about to ask Sonora what she thought of it all, but his curiosity got the better of him, so he turned to the world on their left.
It was brighter than any they had passed, casting a strong yellow light out into the god’s realm. The landscape was the same golden colour and it took him a moment to realise it was formed entirely from sand. It looked like an endless riverbed. Mound after mound stretched to every side of the world and the light reflecting from the sand forced Harl to squint. Dotted across the rippling sand were scattered villages of crude, wooden shacks and canvas-covered huts. Dark, tiny figures moved between them, carrying baskets on their heads or leading scrawny cattle to the scant vegetation scattered around.
‘Look,’ Sonora said as they neared the ground level of the two worlds.
Harl turned back to the grass world and noticed a man staring dumbfounded at the two of them as they slid down the outside of his world. He was dressed in a material that Harl had never seen before. Large sections of the tan material were crudely woven together with thick thread.
The man took a step towards them and raised his hands as if to touch the clear barrier, but then turned and sprinted away towards a small village in the distance, waving his arms in the air.
‘They won’t believe him,’ Harl said as the man disappeared over a rise in the land.
As they neared the floor, a flood of panic swept over him. They had miscalculated. The tanks were resting on a plinth above the ground so there was a cut in five paces above the floor. The gap was like a cut away section, leaving a drop twice the height of a man and, if they kept going, the sword would cut through and they would plunge down.
Harl looked to either side, trying to think of a plan as he pressed the button on the sword to stop them.
‘Harl!’ Sonora cried as they continued on towards the overhang.
The sword must have heated up more than before and was taking much longer to slow them. Panic washed over him as his feet kicked out into the empty space beneath the tanks. His arm muscles burnt in protest at having to hold their combined weight on the narrow sword hilt but eventually with just half a pace left before it cut right through, the sword stilled.
He looked left and right, seeing the god’s realm spread out all around them, vast and open. He had seen it before, of course, from the top of the table, but being close to the floor made the space seem even more daunting.
He craned his neck around to glance through the archway and could make out god-sized desks and tables lining the area beyond. His arms twinged in protest, pulling him back to the predicament. He couldn’t hold on any more.
‘We’ll have to drop,’ he said, glancing down at the floor several strides them below.
Harl hit the button as Sonora muttered something about “leaving with a mad man” and the blade slid through the last part, coming free from the wall and plunging them downwards.
They hit the stone floor in a tangled heap, with Sonora somehow landing on top of him, knocking the air from his lungs.
‘Sorry,’ she said, grabbing his hand and hauling him up before rummaging inside her bag.
Harl stared at the tables through the archway. One of them had to be the table he had been on when he’d woken among the pile of dead. A shiver ran through him at the memory and he looked away.
It was all so big.
Along the base of the worlds he could make out the only object within walking distance. Half-hidden under the tank wall overhang was an oblong silhouette. Harl guessed it must be as big as a hay barn and protruding from the top was what looked like a giant handle held up horizontally by two struts.
She pulled out two cloaks and handed one to him. The colour of the material matched the grey floor exactly.
‘So that’s why Gorman had you dye them,’ he said, wrapping the light cloth around him.
When they both had the cloaks on and hoods up, Harl looked around the impossibly open space. It was like being a beetle or a rat inside someone’s house, and it was terrifying. It was dark compared to the land they had left behind, as if the space swallowed the light. Only a faint shine filtered down from above.
Harl looked up, the dizzying sense of scale magnified as he lifted his gaze from the ground, up past level upon level of worlds to where a light stared bleakly down from above. It was the same kind of illuminating strip that shone light down inside the tanks, but this one had to be massive considering the scales involved. And yet it cast hardly any light over the scene. Only the tank light gave a real glimpse into the gloom around them. The glow highlighted the wall opposite into a lighter shade of grey than the floor, but it was still just a dismal expa
nse stretching away from them. It all felt so empty and lifeless. Only the giant archway gave a hint of life, but even then it was just Harl’s tortured memories. He could still feel the god’s hand clasped around him as it carried him back to the tanks. It was difficult to breathe, the very air toxic around him. The coarse skin on the god’s hand felt like rock against his body and he gasped for air as it reached up and up, finally coming to a stop above Sonora’s tank.
It had been a torture more suited to a nightmare, but there was a nugget of hope in it. Those few agonising moments had paved his way towards Sonora. And that was a price worth paying.
His gaze was drawn up to the wall of worlds beside them. The plinth the worlds stood on left a five pace overhang. The space underneath was littered with small rocks and debris, as if swept out of sight by a giant broom.
Edging out onto the open floor from the overhang was the handled box. It was the only object of any interest even remotely close to them and seemed the best place to head for.
‘Harl,’ Sonora hissed, pointing towards the archway.
The god was stomping towards it.
‘Get under,’ Harl said, tugging her cloak as he pulled her beneath the worlds.
They hunched under the overhang, peering out, and breathed a sigh of relief when the god passed the archway and didn’t come through.
‘Better get moving,’ Harl said, knowing that if Gorman failed to seal the hole and the god noticed, then it would look in their area for any escapees.
They headed for the box. It was massive, more the size of a house than anything he could call a box. But then he tried to picture it from the god’s point of view and it seemed about the right size. And yet it was still huge.
They scurried along under the overhang, following the line of worlds toward the strange structure. They both kept glancing up at the archway, expecting a god to step through at any moment and scoop them up.
As they neared the box, Harl was stunned by the size of it. It towered above them at almost three times the height of a man, its sides dented and scratched by a life of heavy use.
‘What is it?’ Sonora asked.
He reached out to touch it. It was rougher than he had expected and made from cold metal, the impurities of its casting obvious. A plethora of grooves and hollows scarred its surface. He ran a finger inside one and tried to picture what could gouge such a deep cut into metal. But then it was all on such a giant scale. The god’s hands were large enough to scoop an entire house up in one fist. This scratch would barely register.
It was unnerving.
‘Some kind of carrying tray?’ he guessed, thinking of the basket Sonora carried her herbs in.
He slid his whole hand into one of the small cracks on the side. It seemed solid enough when he pulled at the metal. Without waiting, he placed his foot in one of the lower grooves and then climbed up off the ground. His foot slipped and he dangled from one hand as he scrambled to get purchase with his other limbs.
He cursed his haste. If he was injured, it would be only Sonora to tend him. Staying in one place while he healed would mean running out of food rapidly as well. There was no way she could carry him to safety and that meant the only end would be discovery by the giant gods. They would be thrown back into a tank and have to escape all over again. Assuming they survived.
He sighed and took a moment before he began to climb. Hand over hand, he gradually neared the top, breathing a sigh of relief as his fingers caught the top ledge and he heaved himself up. He leant over the edge and looked down inside.
The interior of the tray was split into two sections by a chest high barrier that formed long shallow compartments on either side. A group of transparent cubes at the far end drew his eye. Each cube was a closed box about five strides wide and the height of a tall man. A metallic square in the top corner connected to the outside via a pipe.
It took him a moment to realize he had seen the boxes before. They were the vessels used by the gods, the place that a person was put into after being lifted. He’d only seen them from a distance, but it was something he couldn’t forget. They were the same cubes he’d seen his parents placed in as a child.
Stacked in the closest compartment were what looked like giant gardeners’ tools. They were similar in design to what he’d seen on Gorman’s window sill – the ones used to cultivate the miniature tree – but scaled up for the hands of a god. There were pots filled with water and an unstable looking pile of large boulders, similar to those in the quarry. Seeds lay scattered all over the floor, clearly spilt from the bulky woven metal sacks that had been stuffed into one corner.
‘What’s in there?’ Sonora called from the outside once he’d jumped down into the box.
‘Tools,’ he said.
He could hear Sonora’s feet and hands scrabbling against the side as she climbed up. He hopped up onto a huge trowel and, with a little effort, managed to get himself back up to the rim of the box where he could look down on her. She threw the bags up for him to catch.
‘Here,’ he said, extending a hand.
‘I’ve got it,’ she said and then climbed the rest of the way to the top more quickly than he’d managed. She forced him to one side as she pulled herself up and over the edge.
‘Where did you learn to climb like that?’ he asked, impressed.
‘Harl Eriksson,’ she said, smiling, ‘for all it might seem, I do have my own talents.’
‘So I see,’ he said, looking her up and down. ‘You’re made of stern stuff.’
Her smile widened then vanished as a deep thudding noise drew their attention. The noise became physical, rattling the tray. Harl ran higher up the trowel to get a better view and was horrified to see the One True God striding directly towards them.
Chapter 23
Karvac has seen them. He stormed round after I refused to pay the debt and broke the door down. I was setting up one of the tanks when he barged in. It was no use, I had to answer all his questions before he agreed to secrecy and belated payment.
‘Quick,’ Harl said, ducking down, ‘get behind something.’
They had just enough time to crouch between one of the small cubes and a giant crumpled rag before the god loomed over them. It swallowed the space around it, turning Harl’s field of vision into a moving mass of silvery clothing. It’s yellow eyes gleamed down at them, scanning the inside of the tray.
After a brief look, the god leant over the giant tray and grabbed the handle.
They were forced to the floor as the god lifted the tray up. Harl staggered as the tray swung and he grabbed hold of Sonora as they were pushed up against the side of the cube. On the return swing they were flung against the bundle of soft cloth.
‘Watch out!’ Harl shouted as one of the large boulders rolled towards them. He wrapped both arms around her and leapt out of the way as the boulder tumbled past and lodged into the bundle of cloth. They dived under the trowel as several smaller rocks followed it.
Harl peeked out.
‘I think we’re going through the archway,’ he said.
The trowel scraped and shifted above them.
‘We need to get out,’ Sonora cried as the trowel rocked lower, forcing them to their hands and knees.
They scrambled out and stood up only for the motion of the tray to slam them against the side wall. The tray dropped away beneath Harl’s feet and he felt weightless for a moment before realising that he was falling. Sonora was clinging to the tray wall, terrified, as she looked up. The tray hit the ground with a deafening impact that sent tools shying across its inside. Harl crashed to the ground and screamed as his knee hit one of the boulders. He grabbed his knee and struggled away to safety, then ran his hands over the injury, but it was just a bang, nothing broken.
The god turned away from them and, for the first time, Harl heard it speak. The harsh language was full of inflection and meaning. It was like a rockfall, a deep rumbling of sounds that rose and fell with a hypnotic cadence vibrating with such a low bass note th
at it felt like it was passing right through his body.
A rough choking sound came from another god as it entered the room. It sounded like a dog hacking up a bone, only magnified until the very air seemed to shake with it. Was the sound was a greeting? The One True God repeated it in return.
He couldn’t see the god above them any more so he assumed it must have moved off. Wondering if he should look over the side, he turned to tell Sonora to stay low and stumbled over his words as he saw that she was already standing on the trowel and peering over the edge.
‘He’s gone over to another one,’ she said.
Harl clambered over the smaller tools and on to the upturned trowel. It was an easy climb up the trowel to the top of the tray wall. He scrambled up and peered over. The god that had picked them up was a long way off now, speaking to a bulky, rotund creature that was obviously one of the lesser gods.
Harl noticed that the tray had been placed on a table in the centre of the realm. They were roughly in the middle of the table and the surface dropped away to nothing about a hundred paces away. Harl was used to seeing an edge to the world, but there was something chilling about being stuck up on the table. He felt exposed. The lack of walls was unnerving. It felt like all of that emptiness was pressing against him. Ridiculous, of course. How could it press against him?
He turned to look back at the archway and saw the cubes of light containing all the worlds. A shiver ran down his spine.
‘Do you think the gods...’ Sonora’s voice trailed off as she turned to face the wall of worlds. ‘Is that?’
‘Yes,’ Harl said. ‘It’s our home. Or one of them is, anyway. The archway hides most of them. If you stepped beyond it you’d see the worlds spreading out across the wall in that part of the god’s realm.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.
‘It’s a prison,’ he said, turning away from the view.
