The Crooked Letter: Books of the Cataclysm: One

by Sean Williams

  Synett and two kaia followed her. The other two kaia brought up the rear, behind Seth.

  Eight were leaving the place of the Eight, he noted. Was that a deliberate symmetry on Tatenen's part? He doubted it, and more besides.

  Tatenen had threatened that the cost of their passage would be high. One more kaia missing went unnoticed by all. More likely, he thought, they had lost something far more important without realising it.

  I am the fratricide, the murderer. I am guilty.

  The betrayer will become known to you in time.

  Seth wondered if the true cost of their passage through Tatenen had been hope.

  “The Goddess protects you and keeps you safe; the Goddess guides you and brings you home. The Goddess knows when to praise and when to scold, when to heal and when to harm. The Goddess weeps with you when you mourn the old world and walks with you as you explore the new.”

  THE BOOK OF TOWERS, FRAGMENT 103

  “The betrayer…desires her…”

  Hadrian felt someone lean across him and press a hand over his mouth. “Shhhh!” A rattle of footsteps grew louder, as though a large number of people were running along a road nearby. He tried to sit up, but the hand held him down.

  The darkness lit up with a grey, agonised light. An ache in his skull burned like fire. He realised only then that he couldn't actually see. He was sprawled like a discarded doll on his back, walls pressing close in on him on three sides. Whatever niche he was in, it was utterly dark.

  The hand held him still as the footsteps grew louder. He didn't know where he was. His memories were disjointed, confused. It wasn't as though he had amnesia, and he didn't feel the same as when he had woken in hospital after Seth's death. Then it had just taken time. Now the memories were there; they simply didn't make sense.

  He remembered the Transamerica Pyramid becoming something very different from a falling building. Things were chaotic after that. He had blacked out for a bit then woken to find the world in a state of utter panic. People—and other things—were screaming all around him. Flame leapt in blazing sheets from tree to tree, setting the dead wood alight in an instant. The smell of scorched flesh and concrete dust was strong in the air. Smoke reduced visibility to a few metres, rendering the source of the flames invisible. Bright flashes and eerie crashing noises came from all directions, as though something very large and very dangerous had been running in circles around them.

  It was too overwhelming. His mind couldn't deal with it. There were things that he simply couldn't accept—as magical, supernatural, alien, whatever. He simply baulked. Those moments he couldn't remember at all.

  What he could remember was Kybele mouthing at him to Go! as she held off something vast and many-limbed in the smoke. The Galloi was missing an arm but still fighting as translucent Feie swarmed over him like mice. Ghul snapped and growled from the east, running in a low, vicious pack to join the fray. Shrieks and screams on both sides tore the night to shreds. Someone tugged his hand and he turned his back on the people who had helped him survive thus far. He ran.

  And now he was lying huddled in darkness. The sound of footsteps peaked and then began to fade. The person holding his mouth closed didn't ease the pressure until they were out of earshot.

  The hand came away. Before he could speak, soft lips pressed hard against his.

  His heart tripped.

  Ellis.

  Her scent overwhelmed him. Strong, as though she hadn't showered for days, it took him instantly back to youth hostels and cold nights in Europe. It felt like an eternity ago, but to his body the memory was immediate and powerful. The pain in his head was instantly forgotten. He reached for her, found her shoulders, and pulled her close.

  It was awkward and cramped, but the embrace was as tight as any he could remember. Her spine stood out beneath her windcheater. Her lank hair stroked his face. Her breath was hot and rapid in his ear, as though she had been running.

  After an eternity, she pulled back and he wriggled to sit up. They were kneeling face to face, but he could no more see her than he could the backside of the moon.

  “You're back, thank god.” Her voice held unspeakable relief. “I thought you'd never wake up.”

  “How long have I been out?” He rubbed his head. The pain in his temples made itself felt again, now the rush of being reunited with her had passed.

  “A couple of hours. You came and went for a bit, managed to walk most of the way here. I had to drag you the last ten metres.”

  “Where are we?” The blackness was complete. The only clues he had came through sound and smell. He could hear distant shouting and the occasional scream; they obviously weren't too far from Lascowicz's lair.

  “A hiding place. One of the people you were with told me where to go. I didn't get her name. Things were going crazy. I had no choice but to do as she said.”

  Kybele. She had made sure he and Ellis were safe before doing whatever she had to do next.

  “You did the right thing, Ellie. Without you, I'd probably be dead now.”

  “Ditto,” she said softly. “I guess we're both lucky to be alive.”

  He nodded, wishing he could see her face. “Are we in any danger? Is the door locked?”

  “Yes and no. We should get moving as soon as you think you can. It's only a matter of time before someone looks in here. It's an empty office. We're in the safe.”

  Hence the cramped and dark confines. A wave of claustrophobia swept through him at the thought that they might be locked in.

  “Are you…?” Remembering blood pouring down her cheek, he reached for her hand, gripped it tight. “Are you okay?”

  She hesitated. “I think so. God, Hade, I've seen such things. Both of us have. And I thought Europe was amazing.” She laughed bitterly. “Everything went crazy. I was so worried. When Seth—”

  She broke off. He felt her sob in the darkness, and she sagged into him, shoulders shaking. He wept with her, surprised by the sudden upwelling of grief he felt in response to hers. He had thought that he was becoming hardened to life in this strange new world, but it seemed that all he needed was someone to cry with for the barriers to come back down.

  He slipped a hand into his pocket and found his brother's bone. It was cold. He gripped it tightly but kept it in his pocket.

  “This isn't the way the world is supposed to be,” she said, muffled, into his shoulder. “Could we have been living a lie all this time?”

  “I don't know,” he said with absolute honesty.

  “I mean, I heard them talking—Lascowicz and the others. It sounded crazy. They were talking about magic and demons and life after death and all that. It's just fairy tales, I told myself; it can't be real. Then it started to happen right in front of me, and they said they were going to kill me, feed me to something called Mot, if you didn't come. I was afraid, really afraid. I just couldn't imagine you sweeping in like some knight in shining armour to rescue me. I thought I was going to die and go to hell. I really did. And then you came. I never knew you had it in you. Boy, am I glad you did.”

  He didn't know how to respond to that. He just held her, wondering if it was pride he was feeling or unworthiness. After all, it had been Kybele who had found her, not him.

  She eased back, wiping her nose. “I'm sorry, Hade. It's not your fault things were so bad for me. It must be even worse for you. You're at the centre of all this; you can't get away. Me—if I keep quiet, lie low, maybe I can stay safe. There's a chance I'll come through okay.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No! I want to help you. Maybe we can both make it. This has to die down eventually. It won't stay like this forever, not the way they're running around killing each other.”

  Hadrian thought of Locyta and Gurzil, of Bechard and the Galloi. Were Lascowicz and Kybele still alive? Was anyone he had met since the world had so suddenly changed still alive?

  The thought of coming through okay was seductive but flawed. Even if they managed to get away from
the lair alive, even if they found somewhere totally safe to hide, Yod was on its way. As soon as the two realms touched, something much bigger and hungrier than he could properly imagine would descend upon the world. They couldn't hide from that forever.

  He reached up to stroke Ellis's sticky cheek. Her warmth was fierce against his skin, as though she was running a fever. His concern for her grew. He wished he could guarantee her safety, but the truth was that the longer she stayed with him, the more danger she was in. If he couldn't find Kybele, they would be as vulnerable to the city's new inhabitants as he had been before.

  A couple of hours, Ellis had said. Anything could have happened in that time. Although he yearned to stay in the dark, where it was safe, he knew that she was right: the sooner they got moving, the better.

  “Okay,” he said, getting his legs under him and standing warily, lest he bang his head on the ceiling of the safe. It was taller than he expected. His body ached from crown to corns, as his grandmother used to say. His pulse pounded in his temples.

  “Take it slowly,” Ellis said. “I don't want you passing out on me again.”

  “I'll try very hard not to.”

  “That's what you said last time.”

  “Did I?” He had no memory of it. “I'm sorry.”

  “Don't be. Let's just get the hell away from here.”

  “Wait.” He patted at his pants. “Did I have something with me? A staff—shaped like a crowbar?”

  “Here.” He felt cool metal press against his left palm. “It was stuck to you. I couldn't get it off until we were here in the dark.”

  I smell blood, whispered Utu into his mind.

  He winced at the feel of silver threads binding him to the weapon, tickling his palms and fingers like ants’ feet, but he didn't fight it. The lituus had saved him at least twice already. He couldn't begrudge it that.

  “Thanks,” he said to Ellis. “This is probably the only thing going in our favour at the moment.”

  “At least that's something,” she muttered, opening the door and letting in cool, acrid air.

  The body of a Bes slumped in the hallway outside the office in which Ellis had hidden them. By secondhand starlight, Hadrian glimpsed furrowed skin and caved-in cheeks, as though it had been sucked dry. Its clothes were slashed and torn.

  “I heard something,” Ellis said, edging around it. “A while ago. I thought we'd been found.”

  “Yeuch!”

  “Right. Looks like it made a tasty snack.” She pulled him to the door. “Lucky whatever ate it didn't check the larder.”

  The street outside was quiet. She eased the door open and they edged through. He didn't recognise the buildings opposite—one, a music store, advertised a Madonna album that would never now be released—but he knew where he was in the layout of the lair as soon as he saw the nearest intersection. They were close to the northeast corner, not far from where the Transamerica Pyramid had been. The giant spike was conspicuous by its absence and the hole it left in the skyline brooded menacingly.

  The storm had broken while he slept, leaving the road covered with water. The drains were blocked, piled up with rubbish and surrounded by wide, deep pools. This is good, Hadrian thought. The water might hide their scent. The possibility of them being hunted had no appeal at all.

  She pointed right, along the street, and they headed that way, hugging the buildings and keeping to the shadows. Thick clouds reflected angry light from fires burning where the pyramid had once stood. Everything was painted a sullen red. The scene felt strange to him, slightly off, until he realised what was missing: there were no sirens; no fire officers. These infernos would blaze unchecked until they ran out of fuel. It was possible, he thought, that the whole megacity would succumb.

  Something would step in before that happened, he was sure. Kybele wouldn't let it get that far, not in her precious domain. She would summon another storm, perhaps, or bring an underground river to the surface. His estimation of her power had risen greatly since he had seen her in action against Lascowicz.

  They moved as quickly and as silently as they could. Hadrian's nervousness grew as they approached the northeast corner of the lair. Wrecked cars lay everywhere, gutted and torn to pieces, scattered as though by an enormous explosion. A fender was visible, five storeys up, sticking out of a stone cornice. Tarry smoke, mixed with steam, billowed from wide cracks in the tarmac. Hadrian held his breath as a gust of wind sent a cloud their way. It stank of corruption too foul to identify.

  “See anyone?” Ellis whispered, hunkering down at the edge of the last building on that block.

  He peered past her, around the corner. The dead trees down the centre of the crossroad were full of bodies dangling lifelessly from the branches. At the heart of the lair, in the park, was an utter void. Broken windows bared jagged teeth at him.

  “Not a soul.” He could still hear shouting in the distance, but couldn't isolate the source.

  “Good.” He felt her take a deep breath and exhale. “We might as well run for it. Unless you've got any better ideas?”

  He shook his head. She stood and took his hand again. “Okay. Geronimo!”

  They burst from cover into the frighteningly open space of the intersection with a flurry of echoes at their heels. Footsteps rattled around them, and for a terrible moment Hadrian was certain that they had been ambushed, that the shadows were full of hostile beings converging on them as they ran. They skirted a crack in the road and sprinted through the choking smoke pouring from it. Furiously blinking, he followed Ellis through a minefield of jagged automobile parts, weaving left and right to avoid the largest. Another crack appeared before them, directly across their path. Ellis didn't hesitate. She leapt directly over it and tugged Hadrian with her. Her grip on his hand stayed firm. Even as foul hot air washed over them and he thought he might gag, she didn't miss a step.

  They reached the far side unscathed, and kept running. The façade of a narrow office block had collapsed, sending rubble across the street. They dodged shattered bricks and concrete as they had the other wreckage, ever mindful of their footing. Hadrian's heart was pounding, and his lungs began to burn. He hadn't run so hard since Pukje had delivered him into Kybele's hands through the back alleys of the city.

  Ellis took the first turn she came to, down a narrow lane covered with water. They splashed noisily along it to a T-junction, where they took the marginally less-flooded way. If she had any destination in mind, he couldn't tell, and he had no reason to question her. He was as lost as she was. Their goal was to simply get away. Once they had achieved it, they could work out where to go and what to do next.

  They ran until he thought his legs would give out. He lost count of the turns they had taken when, gasping, they staggered into a small loading bay behind an empty post office to catch their breath. The sound of their breathing was loud in his ears. He tried to keep the noise down, but his body gulped at the air like a fish out of water. His migraine pounded.

  He eased his head out of the loading bay to see if anyone had followed them. The laneway behind them was empty.

  “I think we did it,” he managed. “We got away.”

  “Not far enough for my liking,” she said, leaning against the wall. “I'd like to keep going.”

  “Can we walk?” he asked. “If something found us like this, we'd be worse than useless.”

  She nodded, not looking at him. “I'm thirsty.”

  “Let me recover and I'll find us something to drink. There must be a deli or a toilet nearby.”

  “Toilet?”

  “Cistern water. Perfectly clean.”

  She pulled a face. “I think I'd drink anything as long as I didn't know where it came from.”

  “The truth will die with me.” He breathed deeply for a minute, until the ragged desperation eased and the burning of his muscles ebbed to a hot throb. “Wait here. I'll be back.”

  “No,” she said, “I'll come with you. We've only just found each other again. Let's not take a
ny chances.”

  He agreed wholeheartedly.

  Seth caught sight of the Holy Immortals at the end of the sixth leg of the Path of Life.

  His attention was seized by a greenish metallic gleam high up in the firmament. At first he focussed on it simply to ease the dizziness that always affected him on reentering normal topography. The sky had grown darker the higher they ascended—a fact that was paradoxical, even though it was the same in the First Realm, for here there was no thinning of the atmosphere to explain it away.

  As the sky faded to black, the number of life-forms and artifacts occupying it also decreased. Few and far between, now, were the giant mantas that had dogged them at the second juncture—slender, scudding shapes that had roiled like jellyfish in a strong current, sweeping around them in a tight spiral before swooping off into the distance. The only obvious things left in the sky were the sinister sparks that Xol had called ekhi; more crystal than organic, like giant eight-armed snowflakes, they hummed an inaudible siren song that, even though he was warned not to pay it any heed, tugged seductively at him. People were occasionally lured to their deaths by such things, Agatha explained, diverted from their ascension to Sheol into the mouths of the dangerously beautiful creatures.

  Sheol itself was far too bright to look at. Sharp-edged shadows followed them everywhere they walked. The surface of the realm was now a daunting distance away. As they clambered by any means possible between the junctures in the Path of Life, Seth avoided looking down at all times. He didn't know how long it would take to fall or what the final result would be, but he was determined not to find out.

  The latest juncture consisted of a funnel-shaped structure dozens of metres across with vines or tentacles dangling from its downwards-pointing tip. The path emerged from its hollow centre, spiralling up and out so they were left standing on its broad lip. Seth couldn't tell if the funnel was an artifact or something living—and if it was living, whether it was animal, vegetable, or something else entirely. It reminded him of a carnivorous plant, and he was heartily glad they weren't going the other way, down its wide throat.