by S. M. Beiko
Balaghast seemed to be looking past Saskia, towards the Moth Queen. They nodded.
“If I’m to go there, I’ll need something. More than a broken stone. Something that can sing. Fia made this stone as they made you. Can you help me fix it?”
Stillness. Then Balaghast held out their hooves, stretching for Saskia. This was her answer. She reached for them, and let the hooves touch her, now somehow solid and tangible. She suddenly felt fever-hot, and she watched as her skin was incised with the language of the message that had been screaming in her head, even now. Symbols, words, a story carved in her flesh. Then she cooled, and the sigils turned to gold. The screeching resolved into a song, a perfect harmony, and behind her, Death reached around for the stone. She held it over Saskia’s head.
“You have the protection of Death,” she whispered, “and the blessing of the dark. You will need both to reset the balance on the other side.”
Balaghast held on for a moment longer, and Saskia saw herself filling up those green eyes. It was hard to look, harder to look away. They were saying something, giving their own warning. She heard a word: Creator.
Then, all at once, the red rings and the Darkling alike went out like a tallow candle, greasy smoke the only evidence either had been there at all.
* * *
Now, in the lab, Saskia took the stone from the sock. It sang when she touched it. She figured that by installing it in the receiver, she could control the stone, keep its whispers from getting inside her head the way the other Calamity Stones had with their hosts. It would be different this time. She wouldn’t take it into her body, or allow it to become a part of her. It was a tool and it likely had a mind of its own, like the Darkling who’d blessed it. It would see her through the underworld — and, hopefully, out the other side.
“This is the heart of the darkness,” the Moth Queen had said before departing, her version of well-wishing. “With my blessing, the dead will recognize you as one of their own. Any creature corrupted by the Darklings will yield to you as well. But as for the stone, you must give it a new name.”
“The Adamant Onyx,” Saskia whispered over it. Names had power. She slid the stone into its casing in the receiver crown and hoped that her name could have power, too.
Plunge into Shadow
The diagnostic never finished running — suddenly the tablet let out a screeching noise, and the spooling review fragmented, shivering. The text became red.
S
A
S
K
I
A
The message. It was happening again. “Barton?” she hissed. “Listen, I’m coming. Right now. Just hold on.”
IT IS DARK HERE, the message flickered, THERE IS ONLY THE DARK.
Then more panic scratched across her mind, overlapping — Saskia, get out of there now. Head to the next floor down as quickly as you can. The chancellor is here. He is coming for you. RUN.
Saskia’s head whipped towards the door, as if the chancellor were out there right now. Her bag was under her desk, packed with the basics — some provisions, a canteen. She’d wanted to be prepared on the other side. She grabbed the Fractal and the bag and went for the door, thrusting her head through the pneumatic entryway. No one in the hall, so she took off down it, away from the bank of private elevators that admitted those coming from the official offices upstairs.
She leapt into a stairwell and went down as far as she could, rushing through that door, and down another series of hallways, searching for a place to hide. Are you going to the reactor?
Not without you, came Solomon’s answer, tight, hurried. I can’t speak for much longer. If he crosses paths with you, he’ll kill you the second you’ve served your purpose —
I’ll get there myself, then.
No! You need to —
Solomon’s message cut off, which was just as well; she needed to focus now. Saskia was on the Theory floor, and she ducked into a classroom, empty now, but through the glass she saw a group of ETG trainees approaching. Today was their educational briefing day, and in the throng of those marching in their combat fatigues, Saskia picked out a familiar face that made her heart leap and trust in kismet.
As the trainees passed the room, Saskia yanked him out of line, which he was mercifully in the back of, and into the room with her.
“What the good goddamn?” Cam sniped at her, and she slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Cam, you have clearance to use the back security elevators, right?”
He narrowed his eyes at her, then licked her hand, and she pulled it away, disgusted. It was an old standby of his.
“Why did you have to do that?” she snapped, wiping her palm on her jacket.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Cam rounded on her. “Aren’t you, like, on the engineering team? Why can’t you use those elevators by yourself?”
Saskia dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. “My clearance is too basic. They don’t want me sniffing around the Apex without supervision.”
“And are they wrong?”
She grabbed him by the arms, which were a bit tighter than they had been since Cam had been in boot camp these two weeks. His floppy hair was cropped short, but he didn’t look ready to fight her.
“I need your help,” she said. “And I need it right now. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”
Cam swallowed, looking like a pot of boiled-over soup. “Am I going to get in trouble for this?”
“No,” Saskia lied quickly. “It’s Project Crossover. It’s what I was hired for. I’ve made a breakthrough, but I need to test it before showing the chancellor. It’s all on me, but I need to get there. Now.”
Cam was already trying to work it out, trying to believe her. “How are we not going to look conspicuous? This place is crawling with soldiers right now at the chancellor’s orders. Something big’s going down. Are you a part of it?”
She kept her gaze steady on Cam. “No. I’m the solution. And we get past them if you treat me like a prisoner. It’s the same lift to the reactor as it is to the prison cells. All you have to do is get me in there. No one will stop us.” She took off her uniform jacket, crumpled it and threw it in the corner, pulled her denim jacket out of her pack, and slipped it on instead. “Forget it, I’ll do it on my —”
Cam threw out a hand to stop her. “No, I —” His body might have been changing from training, but he was still the same, soft, sentimental boy who’d picked Saskia for a friend somehow, many years ago. “I want to help. If helping you means helping the Task Guard, then okay.”
Saskia wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she smiled, and it hurt. “Thanks, Cam.”
She popped her head out the door and saw armed guards coming down the hall. It was now or never. She nodded at him, and he grabbed her by the scruff of her jacket. He was strong. But he was being strong for her.
* * *
“I should have expected this,” the chancellor said, when they’d come upon the empty lab, strewn with cut wires and the screens of the computer unit flashing ERROR — ERROR — ERROR.
Mi-ja was already calling security. “We’ll find her,” Solomon reassured him. “The Owl unit has been deployed. It will only be a matter of time before she’s caught.”
Solomon had already lost track of her. He hoped he’d warned her quickly enough.
“I make the time around here,” Grant snapped. He could’ve done a deeper sweep for what Saskia had been doing in this room, but Grant, too, was in a hurry. “I want to get to the Apex. Now. Have the Owl unit bring her to us there.”
Mi-ja nodded curtly, and they all went back out into the hall, to the lifts. She and Solomon exchanged a glance, which surprised him. There was worry on her face. But why?
“What will you do with the girl, once she’s served her purpose?” Solomon dared ask. Mi-ja seemed like she’d wante
d to know, too.
“Put her where I should’ve in the first place,” Grant scowled, “but we’ll burn that bridge once we cross it.”
Won’t we indeed, Solomon thought.
* * *
“This is a terrible plan,” Cam hissed.
“I know.”
“Can I offer you a better one?”
“Shh.”
Saskia tensed as another paired ETG contingent came round the corner for them. She nudged Cam, and he hesitated only for a second that time, before slamming her into the wall.
“I said shut it, Denizen trash!” he shouted, digging his knee into her back. The contingent eyed them both, nodded at Cam, and passed by. He yanked Saskia off the wall and hauled her forward.
“The better plan is to not do this,” Cam said after a while. “Please, Saskatchewan, whatever you’re doing —”
“Don’t call me that,” Saskia grunted, wiggling a loose tooth with her tongue. “We’re nearly there.”
Cam’s eyes darted. “All of these hallways look the same.”
“I memorized the floor plan. Another left, and there’ll be a service elevator. Single cabin, down only.”
They took the left. Cameron looked terribly disappointed that she’d been correct. “What if I don’t let you do this? I bet whatever you’re doing is virtually suicide. That seems like it’d be your style. It’s always the quiet ones.”
When they got to the elevator, the coast was clear for a blessed second. Cam swallowed hard, then let Saskia go. He trusted her, even when what she’d asked him to do had been crazy and would likely get him in a lot of trouble. Mundane or not, he’d risked something, same as her.
Saskia’s hands had been behind her back, but they weren’t bound. She smiled at him after he scanned his security clearance card, a bit sadly, then pulled him into a one-armed hug.
“You’re one of the good guys, Cam,” she said, biting back yet more tears she didn’t have time for. “Don’t let go of that.”
Then she shoved him away and stepped into the elevator.
She pulled the Fractal out of her bag to inspect it, the stone at its centre. Cam was right, this was crazy. But what did it matter? Crazy was how this was going to get done. She slipped the crown over her brow. The farther the elevator plummeted, the stronger the signal on the output grew, blinking on the tablet in Saskia’s trembling hands after she’d pulled it from her bag.
S A S K I A, the output flickered.
“I’m coming,” she whispered.
* * *
Phae had taken Jet home and put him into his own bed, but she and Natti weren’t interested in resting. They took a walk instead to the river, and now they stood on the Osborne Bridge, looking out at the Leg, to the Golden Boy, unchanged while everything below him had radically transformed.
Phae squinted as a chill crept up her ribs. “Something isn’t right,” she said.
“Ya think?” Natti retorted. They both turned towards two black military vehicles rushing over the bridge towards the Old Leg. But given the state of the city, this might have been routine.
“I came here a lot, after Barton disappeared,” said Phae. The river waters below were murky as ever, the morning sun casting pale colours down on the brown water. The dark moon slipped in and out between the clouds. Phae didn’t bother looking up. “It’s happening all over again, and I’m just allowing it.”
Natti leaned forward on her arms, watching the water. “You could’ve stopped both of them. But then again, I doubt it.” She turned over, leaning against the rail, and pointed to the street. “Everyone wants to do their part. You can’t blame them for that. You did once, too. We all did. We just didn’t expect it to turn out like this.” Her hands were spread over Winnipeg, a city radicalized and brimming with terror. “All because of a bunch of rocks and believing in ourselves.”
“Rocks . . .” Phae frowned, then it hit her. She slapped a hand to her chest, where the locket that held the Quartz hung. She yanked it out of her shirt, fumbled with the clasp, and bit back a horrified laugh as the bit of concrete rubble fell into her palm.
“That,” Natti said, “is definitely not right.”
“She took it,” Phae heard herself say. “She took it and she’s going to go through. I knew, I knew —” Back when they were fighting Seela, the five of them were aiming for Ancient, for the Brilliant Dark, and Fia themselves had told Phae that the Quartz was the key to that final realm, after all . . .
Natti steadied Phae, held her on her feet, but forced her to look into her eyes, creased at the corners with their intensity. “Tell me what you want to do, and I’ll do it.”
Phae whipped her head to look across the river, as sure now as she had been seven years ago on that bank, when they’d all joined together.
“Fight,” she said. “We need to fight.”
Natti smirked. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
The shield came up with the snap of Phae’s antlers. Natti was already stretching herself, and her will, towards the river that started it all, ready to bring it smashing into the Old Leg.
* * *
The building rocked, and Mi-ja staggered into the corridor wall before she could press the lift button. The chancellor, bless his black heart, caught Solomon before he crumpled to the ground.
The klaxon overhead blazed to life, a mechanical voice advising personnel where to exit. “What is it?”
Solomon couldn’t believe he’d be saying this twice in as many days, but he relished it. “Water,” he said. “A lot of it.”
Mi-ja’s eyes and fingers were already flying across her tablet’s report. “The river, sir. It’s rising. Too fast. We need to evacuate —”
The chancellor grabbed her and almost tossed her down the hall. “Contain this. We’re not going anywhere. We’re getting to that reactor, and now.” He slammed his clearance key against the elevator panel and shoved Solomon through the sliding steel doors ahead of him. “Lock this place down and everyone inside it. Put every unit out, from trainee to vet, and make a wall of bodies. Protect this building. Protect the Apex. We’re going in. You’re in charge now.”
They left Mi-ja stunned in the hall, and the building rocked again, hard, to the point where Solomon didn’t imagine they’d get down there in time, if at all. The cables of the lift made a terrible, straining lurch.
Then it began its descent.
The chancellor was still holding Solomon’s forearm in an iron grip. Despite the chaos, he was grinning as the floors flicked past them. “The more they fight us, the closer we come,” he was saying. “But we’re going to win this, Rathgar. We’re meant to.”
“Yes,” Solomon said, the lack of circulation making his arm sear. “Together.”
With security on lockdown, and the distraction ample, Solomon dared to throw his mind out into the churning din of the compound.
Saskia was down there already, waiting for them. He knew what she was going to do. Hurry, he thought, with the last of his will.
* * *
Saskia had winged it down here, and the Apex’s team was a flurry of panicked activity as they prepared to turn the machine on, to do as they were told. They barely noticed Saskia passing by, though some eyed her jean jacket skeptically. Something slightly more dire was happening — beyond doing what the crazed chancellor ordered — and Saskia was the least of everyone’s worries.
“An attack,” someone said. “There’s a Seal out there, and — and something else, they don’t know. It has antlers —”
“I thought there weren’t any Deer.”
“Other Denizens from the streets joined in. It’s like a flash mob —”
“They’re through the gate!”
“The chancellor is en route.”
Saskia slipped into the control room at the base of the reactor and tucked herself under a desk, while a crowd of techs had the
ir backs to her. After confirming a readout on the panel in front of them, they hurried out, joining the clusters of people running for the exit.
The reactor was in its first phase of function, loading its software. Saskia dragged herself out of hiding and ripped off a panel beneath the main screens with the small crowbar she’d packed. She yanked wires out, a whole motherboard. She calibrated the control of the Onyx Fractal with her tablet, fingers racing as she hacked past the control’s digital firewalls with the same urgency as whatever fight was going on outside.
She couldn’t help grinning, despite how her pulse seemed ready to make her veins burst. Natti and Phae and anyone willing were out there, and they were all fighting. They were all, in their defiance, helping Saskia.
The tablet confirmed that the Fractal and control were in sync. Then the commotion outside stalled abruptly, and Saskia lifted her head to look through the glass. The chancellor and Solomon had arrived, some remaining technicians approaching them as the pair drew closer to the ramps that led to the Apex’s control bridge above.
Grant shouted for an update, and an engineer came to his side. The tech looked nervous and was quickly dismissed, but Saskia didn’t understand what, exactly, Grant wanted engineering to do that was any different from before —
“Everyone, out!” the chancellor roared, spitting. “Get to the lock-in areas and seal yourselves in.”
Hushed glances. It didn’t take much convincing for the remaining people to obey. Saskia hastily slammed the metal panel back in place and dashed out the door, using the rush for cover as the techs hurried to the emergency lifts. As for her, she still needed to hide and get ready, so she ducked around a steel pillar just in time to avoid the chancellor. He had a crazed look on his face, eyes bright, cheeks mottled, and he was towing Solomon upward.
