"As much as I'd like a change of subject, I don't have much more to disclose. Our experiments have not turned up any results yet."
"Well, at least it's pretty. And perhaps it is having some effect—that orange rather makes your eyes glow."
Alim's stomach flipped. He had not been a popular romantic prospect on campus since his downfall, but even before that it had been a while since he felt that kind of boyish giddiness over such attention.
"Now, is that just flattery or do you mean actually? Because I could rather use some findings."
Jack smiled and, just as the first time Alim saw that smile, he thought he might be completely enamored with the young professor. "Tragically, no, I meant it as pure flirtation."
Alim considered kissing Jack, but a combined shyness and desire to make at least a passing attempt at professionalism during their project held him back. "Well, I could add that to my notes, but I doubt Farrah would be impressed."
Jack's fingers lingered a moment longer on Alim's wrist before letting go. "With luck, our current project will turn up impressive enough findings. If we can foster a functioning dynamic together." The drop in his tone, weighted with doubt, made Alim realize that he meant all four of them. Indeed, it did feel like something of a hopeless endeavor so far.
Two
Sylvestra had been right about the charm of the coastal city of Freydir, and Alim had taken relief in the solitude of his own hotel room during their night's stay there. He was proud of himself for restraining from asking Jack to sneak out to explore the town or knocking on his door in the dead of night, but less proud of the thoughts of Jack he'd had in the comfort of his own privacy. It couldn't have been any worse than stewing in his resentment toward Liam or Sylvestra, especially given that Jack openly returned the interest from his remarks on the tram.
The next morning was to work proper, and the four of them set out for the Crater Coast south of Freydir. No trams ran in that direction, but the road was in halfway decent condition—the pavement only mildly cracked from coastal earthquakes over the years—and it was a manageable hike even for a gaggle of cloistered academics.
At a decrepit bait shop off the road far out of town, Alim introduced them to his scavenger contact, Feist. With wind-burned skin and three missing fingers, Feist could have been a pirate for her presentation and demeanor, though Alim trusted her to be honest. Especially when Sylvestra inquired as to why Feist would point university faculty toward their surplus find rather than sell it off to clothiers, and Feist answered, "Oh, I went to the clothiers. They wouldn't take it—hated the color. Said 'no one looks good in orange'. Can you believe it?" Alim could not believe it, as he thought he looked quite fetching in his bracelet.
His companions had other questions for Feist, asking her details about her team's second trip to the discovery location, after they had retrieved the initial sample for Alim.
"We didn't find a whole lot. I think maybe one of those creatures got injured or something, left a bit of a blood trail, so to speak, but it wasn't much."
Sylvestra nodded. "That's possible. If it was struck hard enough in the abdomen, it might experience some leakage from the silk sac—maybe enough to fill my palm. Any more than that, and I would expect it to be too injured to move."
"You didn't find anything living at this site, did you?" Liam asked, and Feist flinched.
"Ah, no. We're no mercenaries—we would have turned tail if there had been sight of one of these critters. The place looked abandoned, and I don't know how long since the demon poking around was there."
"It would have to be fairly recent, given the integrity of the fiber," Sylvestra said. "You were wise to show caution. Do you know why a demon might have been at this location?"
"It was some kind of ruin, back from when demons used to live on the surface. Maybe it was trying to dig up some family heirloom?"
Alim had already been briefed on all this in his previous correspondence with Feist, but he asked for the sake of the others, "And where is this ruin?"
"Couple leagues off shore, some little island. Not too far, but tricky to dock in anything but a dinghy—it's too shallow and rocky, except for this little inlet that cuts into the island. Bigger boats would sink before they could get near it, and it doesn't look like much from a distance, which I would guess is why it's gone ignored for so long."
"Odd place for demon architecture," Jack mused, sounding almost disbelieving.
"Regardless, a demon was there," Liam said. Alim wanted to snap at him for being so curt with Jack, who was so young and out of his element, but Liam had already turned his attention to Feist before Alim could speak. "When can you take us to this ruin?"
Immediately, it seemed. Feist led them to a pair of dinghies manned by her scavenger team to guide them toward the island just within sight on the ocean horizon. Once nearly there, she left them in the care of a single boat, riding back in the other with her people and leaving the academics to work free of interference. While Alim didn't expect Feist would join them in their survey of the area, he hadn't entirely expected her to leap from one boat to the other while her companions all eyed the island with superstitious stares. Jack, green and anxious, seemed disappointed that Feist and her people would not accompany them in their examination of the ruin, but Liam readily took over the small technomagic motor and rudder at the end of the boat, hardly seeming to notice the scavengers' departure.
Alim spared a moment to wonder where Liam had learned to operate a boat, but he was distracted by the looming island they neared. Two rounded hills rose up a couple hundred feet, and the inlet that snaked between them was narrower than Alim expected, only wide enough for about two dinghies side-by-side. Curtains of moss hanging from sharp stone outcrops and ledges further cluttered the inlet, and Liam had to slow the motor while the others reached out to push the moss from their path. By the time they reached the ruin, Alim was chilled and shaking from the shade of the hills and the cool moisture falling off the moss.
"Fascinating!" Jack cried as Liam stopped the boat next to a stone platform at the edge of the inlet. Beyond it were wide stone stairs that led to a crumbling stone building built into the face of one of the hills. Geometric and blocky in its design, it did not match any human architecture that Alim recognized.
"Demon-make?" Alim asked, and Jack's eyes sparkled even in the dim shade.
"Yes, absolutely! This structure must be seven—even eight hundred years old. Spectacular!"
"Quite wondrous," Sylvestra agreed, similarly entranced as she examined the building front.
Liam did not even look at the structure, instead grunting as he reached out to grab the edge of the platform, pulling the dingy closer. "Someone get out and tie us off. I'm overdue to have my feet on solid land." Alim could see his hand shaking where he gripped the platform, more so than the chill accounted for.
He was loath to ask, but concern overrode contempt. "Are you all right?"
The veins on Liam's knuckles stood out as his grip tightened. "As I said, I don't care for the ocean. Disembark, now." Jack nearly scurried out of the ship at the order, Sylvestra following more smoothly behind as though it were her own independent idea, kneeing Alim in the side on the way out.
Alim was next to disembark, taking the boat's tie and wrapping it around a chipped iron peg rising up from the platform. Liam clambered out as he worked, wobbling a bit as he steadied himself on the dock. "I didn't realize you meant a phobia," Alim said. "You might have said something before we became seaborne."
"Would you have cared?"
Alim, focused on tying off the dinghy, did not look up as he answered. "I despise your abhorrent personality and actions, not your brain." When he finished and stood, he found Liam watching him with eyes as chilling as the shade and an expression as stony as the ruin before them. Alim had to put effort into not recoiling from the intensity of the stare. "I'm sure we could have found a way to accommodate you for your anxiety, had you mentioned it."
Liam broke h
is gaze as he rolled his shoulders in a display that was almost bashful. "No matter. We're on solid land now. I'm fine."
Alim was about to point out that they still had the trip back to consider, but Sylvestra called out to them from an open doorway leading into the hillside ruin. "Are you coming along? I'd rather not lose the whole day." She didn't wait for their response before stepping into the ruin. Jack was nowhere in sight, apparently already exploring.
A thirst for discovery overwhelmed Alim as he marched up the stairs of the ruin, eyeing the detail of the stone as he passed through the doorway. Weatherworn and stained with black and green spots from years of mold, the fact the stone still stood was a testament to the architectural abilities of demons. Alim knew that they were something of a technologically driven race, likely having used machines to facilitate their migration to underground caverns centuries ago, but most of his knowledge on demons pertained to their magic. Still, he was fascinated by the promise of what they might find to bring back for study. This was, after all, the sort of work that inspired him to rebuild his shattered career. If he could reestablish himself in the university, he could work on projects like this more often—ideally, without having to boat out to remote locations himself to collect his study samples. Though seeing the ruins firsthand was enthralling.
The front hall was dim, but Jack had already handed Sylvestra a low-magic hand-lamp from the light stash of supplies he had brought along in his backpack. The white glow from its enchanted core marble illuminated her scowl.
Further down the hall, Jack was squinting through the darkness to examine the interior walls, prodding them and trying to wipe away grime with his fingertips. "Hmm… Any markings that might have been here appear to be gone now. I suspect this was not so much a place of culture as practicality. Some kind of port—perhaps for when they began migrating underground?"
Liam stepped in behind Alim, frowning. He was well-versed in the biology behind the silk sacs, but Alim wasn't sure what else he had studied about demons, if anything. Talk of their history appeared to annoy him.
"Feist's people must have found that second sample of demonweave further in. Let's not waste time."
Jack frowned, turning away from the wall to face Liam. "We came to research—"
"The demonweave. Unteng and the board will not be impressed if we bring back reports on historical speculation." Alim knew Unteng well enough to expect that he actually would be, but Liam wasn't wrong about the board. To his surprise, Jack bristled at Liam's attempt to refocus on the task at hand.
"If there's time," Alim said to Jack, "after we've scouted for any other demonweave samples. Historical speculation might provide context to anything else we find, after all." He shot a glare to Liam. "Jack was assigned to this project for his expertise, and just because it's beyond your scope of study does not make it irrelevant to our goals."
Liam didn't concede to the point. Instead, he pushed past Alim and Sylvestra, heading down the hall beyond Jack.
Alim caught Sylvestra's eye as he watched Liam storm off. "You've been quiet."
Sylvestra took in a slow breath, as on-edge as any of them. "Just wishing I was in better company. Whatever we uncover, this project could become the defining point of my career, and I don't trust who it hinges on."
Alim rolled his eyes. "You might as well say to my face that you think I'm useless. You wouldn't be the first in this damn institution to do so."
Her brow wrinkled, and it was the first flicker of sincerity that Alim had ever seen on her. "I didn't mean you." Beyond her, Alim could see Jack turning to follow Liam, and although Alim wanted to go after them, something in Sylvestra's gaze held him in place. "I know you regard me as… a competitor, but for me, your company is the most welcome part of this expedition. It's Liam's intentions and Jack's inexperience I don't trust. Your motivations are quite plain, and you've already proven your value in achieving our goals with how you've handled Feist." She shrugged, the open emotion gone in favor of her usual sardonic mask. "And you've got something of a sense of humor. That doesn't count for nothing."
Heat spread in Alim's chest, and although the sensation pushed back the dreadful chill of the damp ruin, it made him uncomfortable. "Strange as it seems, I find that almost flattering."
She smirked, and Alim noticed again the elegance in the lines of her face and the silver streaks of her hair, glinting against the white light of the hand-lamp. He wanted to chide himself for being taken in—first with Jack's youthful charm, and now with a more experienced peer. He must have been growing desperate for some proper intimacy.
But he did wonder if perhaps it was time to let go of his bitterness toward Sylvestra. It wasn't as though she were unqualified for the job she had ruthlessly ripped away from under him. And what if the roles had been reversed? If he had been the one granted the position, would it be fair of her to begrudge him for it?
She must have noticed him staring, as she nudged him with an elbow. "Daylight's wasting, Instructor. Shall we?"
*~*~*
Several yards in, they found an underground pocket beneath the hill where a pool of water had formed. A dock lined the nearest edge of the pool, but what distinguished it from the outside dock were the ancient pods suspended above the water–mechanical vessels of some kind, likely old demon technology.
Several of the pod ports were empty, some clearly broken and missing brackets to hold such a vessel. On the dock platform were a number of stations outfitted with levers, buttons, and dials. Jack hurried immediately to one of these stations to begin inspecting it, but Liam took to looking around for any more traces of demonweave. He kept a noticeable distance from the edge of the pool as he paced up and down the dock, glancing toward a series of doors and apertures that spotted the walls.
"Was Feist able to get through any of those doors?" Sylvestra asked, but Liam waved her over to an open archway.
Sylvestra lifted the lamp to shine into the room Liam currently inspected, and Alim joined them. Shadows played off small piles of crumbled rubble, and the far corner of the room was flooded with a shallow puddle. Some large, rotted object sat askew in a closer corner—perhaps once a piece of furniture eaten away by water and mold to an indistinguishable lump.
"Nothing," Liam said. "Next room." But as he moved to the next open doorway, Sylvestra sneered at his command and headed to a closed door at the end of the dock. "Sylvestra!"
"Feist's people will have picked clean any accessible space. I want to see the places they weren't able to reach." The door was made of stone to match the walls, carved with angular patterns that were worn nearly to flatness. Inserted in the wall next to the door was a sort of sconce that contained buttons and switches like those of the port stations that Jack continued to prod at.
"They're locked," Liam said. "How are we supposed to get through where Feist could not?"
Sylvestra scoffed. "Feist is not the head of a Pinnacle University research department, now, is she?" She pointed to the panel in the wall. Looking again, Alim saw that the dials were marked with faint symbols along the edge, and a few other etchings surrounded the sconce, though it was difficult to tell what was writing and what was just missing flecks of wall. "It's passcoded, and I can read demonic characters."
"And how long will it take you to guess the passcode?" Alim asked.
"Well…" Sylvestra shoved the lamp into Liam's hands and reached out to spin one of the dials. She turned to one faded character and hit the button next to the dial. Alim heard a grating click from the door, and Sylvestra spun the dial and hit the button again. She did this seven times—click-click-click between each press of the button—until the door let out a low groan followed by a booming reverberation.
Liam looked to Sylvestra, then to the door. Giving it a shove with his shoulder, it opened—not easily, but Liam pushed it wide enough for them to squeeze in.
Alim gaped and turned to Sylvestra. "What was the passcode?"
She smiled. "'Open'. I expect the demons didn't occupy thi
s place long before abandoning it. That, or they abandoned it due to compromised security. Or perhaps humans overtook control of it at some point." She shrugged. "Whatever the reason, whoever was here last clearly wasn't that committed to security."
"Then we should expect no danger inside." But when Liam swung his arm to illuminate the sealed room, his mouth fell agape and his pupils widened. Pushing the door further open, he stepped in without waiting for the others, and Alim and Sylvestra were quick to follow. Alim regretted his haste, realizing he should have taken a moment to brace himself for what they might find.
A corpse. A shimmering, teal corpse.
Alim had seen diagrams and sketches, of course, of demons and the carapaces covering their faces in the form of chitin masks, the tentacles extending from the base of their torsos, sharp claws tipping their long fingers, and the self-made demonweave wraps that draped over their shoulders and chests. This one still wore its toga, which sparkled brilliantly in the light of Liam's lamp, but its blue-green skin was faded nearly to gray, looking like a beached squid tangled in a bolt of glittering cloth.
Liam stood an arm's length from it, holding the lamp steady and studying the scene with that same stunned expression. The room was not much bigger than the flooded one they had examined minutes before, similarly square and windowless. Some heavy piece of machinery in the room—made of metal darkened with age and so rusted away that its original form and purpose was lost on Alim—had toppled over, crushing the poor soul they now examined.
A demon, dead under the weight of the metal. It didn't move, but the fibers of its demonweave clothes still glowed and glimmered in vibrant but dark teal, as did the loose strands pooling around its body. It appeared as though a raw edge of the machine had also pierced the creature's torso, but just as easily the pressure from the machine could have caused the demon to "bleed" so much fiber. Actual blood also crusted the demon's body and fibers in congealed streaks. Still, Sylvestra stepped up to kneel and test for a pulse.
A Study of Fiber and Demons Page 4
