An Echo of Things to Come

by James Islington

  Davian shook his head. “We should go.” He knew that Fessi was keeping them outside the flow of time—only a few seconds would have passed since they’d begun the conversation—but every moment that they remained was a risk.

  “I just want to see what’s in there,” said Fessi, nodding toward the mysterious opening at the end of the hall. “The Council wouldn’t have put all that security in place just to hide some cells—and we may not get another chance to look.”

  Davian shook his head again, but swallowed further protests and allowed Fessi to drag him toward the end of the hall. She was right—there had to be something more than just cells down here—and it was clear that the dark-haired girl was not to be dissuaded anyway.

  He studied the archway as they approached. Just as artful as the rest of the Builders’ work, it was large, easily wide enough for several people to pass through at once. The angular symbols inscribed around its edges were unfamiliar to him, but Davian couldn’t help but feel uneasy as he looked at them.

  “Let’s do this quickly,” he said nervously. “We don’t want to—”

  They passed beneath the archway into the antechamber beyond, and everything lurched.

  Davian stumbled as Fessi lost her grip on his arm, staggering farther into the room. She recovered her balance, then turned to Davian with a bemused expression.

  “Sorry. Must have been another barrier,” she said dazedly. “I thought I checked, but it …” She shook her head, frowning. “I checked, but …”

  Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, and she crumpled to the floor.

  Davian rushed forward, ignoring his own sudden dizziness and dropping to his knees beside Fessi. She was still breathing but it was coming in shallow gasps; otherwise, Davian couldn’t see anything physically wrong with her. He closed his eyes and reached out for kan.

  There was nothing there.

  He grabbed Fessi roughly under the armpits and dragged her hurriedly back out into the hall, feeling a chill as he realized that more symbols had appeared on the walls of the room—the same as those he’d seen over the archway, but these ones pulsing with blue Essence.

  A warning. He didn’t know what they said, but they were clearly a warning.

  He returned his focus to Fessi once they were out past the arch again, quickly pushing through kan. Fessi’s source was unusually dim—dangerously so, he thought—but there didn’t appear to be anything actively attacking her. Whatever had been affecting her must have been restricted to the antechamber.

  He quickly snatched more Essence from the nearest pillar, letting it flow into her. After a few moments, Fessi groaned and stirred.

  “What happened?” she asked blearily.

  “I’m not sure. You collapsed after going through the archway.” He glanced over his shoulder at the room. The glowing symbols on the walls had vanished. “But I think if you’re up to it, we should get out of here now.”

  Fessi staggered to her feet with Davian’s help. “Not going to argue this time.” She took a few deep, steadying breaths, then closed her eyes.

  Once again, Davian felt time begin to bend around them, slipping by almost without touching them. Fessi gave a slight nod, then—one hand still firmly gripping his arm—led him to the other end of the hall and swung open the door.

  Eight red-cloaked men stood in the space beyond, the way in which they were arrayed around the entrance clearly marking them as guards. At first they appeared frozen but as Davian watched, he could see the miniscule changes in their positions that betrayed their current motion.

  Davian glanced at the young woman holding his arm, speechless. This was so far beyond his own ability as to be laughable. Fessi was keeping both of them almost completely outside of the flow of time—and she was doing it while undoubtedly still recovering from whatever had just happened.

  Fessi caught his glance, then looked around at the near-statues and shrugged. “Practice.”

  She gently closed the door behind them, then proceeded to pull Davian through the crowded room, moving slowly and careful to avoid touching any of the figures. Davian followed her lead. Even the air of their passing at this speed could give them away, and he didn’t like to think of what sort of injury he might inflict if he accidentally bumped one of the Gifted.

  Soon enough they were outside, into the tranquil gardens of Central Ward. Davian gazed at the almost-frozen stream to his left in astonishment. It was evening but the moon was out, highlighting the eerily slow water with silver.

  He expected Fessi to stop and rest once they were clear—he couldn’t even imagine the amount of concentration that this would be taking, especially after what had happened inside—but she simply dragged him on matter-of-factly, neither rushing nor casual in her pace. They walked in silence past the men guarding the tunnel beneath the Central Wall, then through the near-empty streets of Inner Ward and beneath the Inner Wall.

  By the time they were walking out of Tol Shen’s eastern gate—still moving at the same pace, with their altered passage through time never once faltering—Davian’s mind had gone numb from trying to conceive of how Fessi was managing to maintain the ability. By his estimate, the entire journey had taken them close to twenty minutes.

  Outside of the bubble she’d created, he doubted more than ten seconds had passed.

  They rounded a corner and Fessi finally slowed her grimly determined walk, glancing behind them before breathing out. There was a rush of air and suddenly the world sprang back into motion, trees by the road swaying in the same night breeze that now pressed against Davian’s face. He blinked, coming to a halt as Fessi took her hand off his arm, stumbling a little.

  He reached out to help her. “Are you all right?”

  Fessi held up her hand, indicating that she didn’t need assistance.

  “She’ll be fine.” Erran’s voice, coming abruptly from the darkened tree line, made Davian flinch. He turned to see the other Augur emerging from the foliage where he’d evidently been waiting for them. “She usually pushes herself harder than that before I wake up in the morning.” Despite his cheerful tone, Davian couldn’t help but notice a flash of concern in Erran’s eyes as he looked at Fessi.

  Erran turned back to Davian. “You didn’t turn up to our meeting.”

  Davian gestured back at the Tol. “Busy trying not to die. Sorry.”

  Erran sighed. “Still a little rude.” He gave Davian a slight grin and then paused, turning his attention to Fessi as she straightened. Davian didn’t need to see the line of kan to know that they were communicating again.

  After a few seconds, Fessi gave a reluctant nod, and Erran turned back to Davian.

  “So. Let’s figure out a way to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he concluded quietly.

  Chapter 18

  Caeden paused in his descent, studying the vast, snow-covered city stretching away below him, highlighted red by the last light of the dying sun.

  It had been an hour since the Portal Box had deposited him onto the mountaintop, the tallest peak of a range that filled the horizon intimidatingly in every direction. He shivered in the frigid air, unspoiled snow crunching underfoot as he struggled forward through knee-high drifts once again, continuing to angle downward. He’d known as soon as he’d spotted the smooth, clean outlines of the thousands of structures below that it was where he was meant to go next—where he’d find his reason for coming here.

  Hopefully, where he’d find the answers he needed to stop the Lyth.

  He squinted. The closer he got, the more remarkable the sight became. Lines of Essence bordered every road, every pathway, the snow that capped each building not anywhere in evidence along the lit streets. There were no adornments on any of the structures below, no outlandish design or particular flair to the architecture. Yet despite the obfuscation of powdery white, he could also see how intricately each building interlocked with the next, the entire city meshing into something far more than the sum of its parts. Every street managed to be both ut
ilitarian and unique, functional but distinct. It was simple, but there was also an unmistakable beauty and artistry to it.

  There was something else that constantly drew his eye, too—something he had noticed the moment he’d reached his vantage point.

  The center of the city was utterly dark.

  It wasn’t simply as if there was no Essence flowing to the half-mile-wide area. Instead, the lines of energy running toward the darkness grew increasingly dim as they approached, flickering rather than pulsing, steadily weakening as they drew closer to the city center until they were eventually completely extinguished. It was hard to see in the fading light, but snow clogged the streets where the Essence began to dim, only melting away where it would have otherwise sat directly atop the faint illumination. The glow closest to the black vortex blinked and stuttered, giving the empty streets there a wild, eerie quality.

  Caeden studied the sight grimly. After what he’d just been through in the Plains of Decay, he knew he’d need to keep a close eye on his Reserve while here.

  He shook his head, pressing on despite his exhaustion. The journey downhill was cold, wet, and treacherous; he’d slipped multiple times, twice having to heal himself from a badly sprained ankle, as well as constantly drawing Essence to add warmth to his body. It didn’t help that he hadn’t slept in over a day, either.

  Tiredness was better than stopping for too long, though. The utter silence here, the vast solitude, left him only his thoughts for company.

  That was something that he didn’t feel like dealing with right now.

  So he forced his legs to keep moving, trudging through the deep white and slowly drawing closer to the city perched at the mountain’s edge. After a while he found himself funnelled into a deep canyon, the gushing of water beginning to intrude on the silence. In the distance, along the path ahead, he could see a multitude of fountains and water features littering the entrance to the city—including two massive waterfalls that flanked the path into the city itself. Blue streaks of Essence lit the smooth, glasslike sheets, the energy darting along it at random intervals, moving as if alive.

  Caeden paused, gazing at the falls for a moment. Each ran the length of the canyon for at least a hundred feet, perfectly symmetrical and completely sheer. The shimmering walls of water emerged from jutting rock overhead, continuing well past the level of the path and down into the inky chasms that lined the way ahead. Only a very distant roar indicated that there was any bottom to the dual abysses.

  Despite the sound, Caeden recognized the sense of emptiness in the city beyond—an air of desolation, of things made by man and then abandoned, forgotten. It had been the same in Deilannis.

  Whoever had lived here, they didn’t any longer.

  He started walking, entering the corridor of water. The air was actually slightly warmer here and moved gently, but there didn’t seem to be any spray from the twin waterfalls. The road itself was smooth, dry, and generously wide; unlike the buildings and streets up ahead it was not made of white stone, but rather carved from the gray-brown rock of the mountain. Strange symbols were inscribed at intervals along both edges of the path, though Caeden had no inkling as to their meaning.

  Despite his curiosity and the apparent safety of the road, Caeden kept to the middle. It was near completely dark now, and the strange blue energy sporadically darting along the curtains of water made him uneasy.

  He reached the edge of the city without incident, hesitating in front of the white stone archway that marked its entrance. Now that he could see the buildings up close, everything looked so … new. Despite the rooftops laden with snow, nothing bore signs of age or wear; even the well-preserved structures in Deilannis would have felt derelict next to these.

  He checked his Reserve again as he walked along the snow-free street, but there didn’t appear to be any drain. For a few minutes he luxuriated in the appreciable increase in temperature, but his relief began to fade as he started scanning the buildings for any points of interest. He might be safe, but he also had no hint as to where he was supposed to go. From the stunning but now barely visible vista out over the edge of the city, to the warm lines and well-lit roads, the entire place was mocking in its vast, unfamiliar emptiness.

  He eventually stopped, perching at the edge of a fountain and cupping his hand beneath the flowing water, wondering idly at how it was still operating in this climate. It was clear and clean, if icy; after a cautious first sip he drank deeply, taking a few moments to try and get his bearings.

  Why was he here? Had he hidden the second part of the Vessel somewhere nearby? Or was he looking fruitlessly for the Siphon, when in fact Nethgalla already had it? He grimaced as he stared around. He needed a memory, needed something to point him in the right direction. He knew from what he’d seen from his bird’s-eye view that the city was immense. If he’d hidden something here, he could potentially spend a lifetime searching for it.

  He peered down the long, straight street to his left that ran toward the city’s center. Farther along he could see where the Essence began to dim, and on the horizon was pure black.

  Was what he needed somewhere in there? Even if his Reserve remained stable, that vortex of darkness made him more than a little uneasy. Anything could be lurking within.

  And yet, some small part of him knew that it was where he was going to have to look.

  He sighed, then stood and began walking, purposefully this time, toward the darkness.

  It took five minutes for his surroundings to become noticeably dimmer, and another five before it was difficult to see. Ice now crunched underfoot again, and the chill was back in the air as a light snowfall drifted from the darkened sky. Shadows across the street merged in and out of existence everywhere as the Essence here flickered wildly and unevenly, pulsing bright for a moment, then blinking out entirely the next. The fluctuations appeared to be random, affecting different lines at different intervals, making it difficult to concentrate on any one thing. Occasional beams of starlight from above compensated a little, but still let him see far less than he was comfortable with.

  There was still no drain on his Reserve, though. Cautiously, he closed his eyes and tapped into the ocean of energy within. A small ball of light sprang to life in front of him, clear and steady, banishing shadows and casting the area around into sharp relief.

  He nodded slowly. The drain was on the Essence powering the city, then—not anywhere else. He was safe from what had happened to him at the Plains, at least.

  He pressed on into the darkness, his illumination enough to see the buildings on either side of him but nothing more. He didn’t want to attract the attention of anything lurking in here.

  It wasn’t long before he came to a stop outside a tall, thin tower. The structure was square and smooth, as oddly both distinctive and unremarkable as every other building in the city. Even so, this one felt important. He knew that he had to be close to the epicenter of the Essence drain; his ball of light still shone but it had begun to flicker and wane, strands pulling from it and drifting out toward the tower’s doorway. He frowned for a few moments and then drew Licanius, closing his eyes and concentrating.

  Kan was suddenly there—far easier to grasp, to manipulate, so long as he held the sword. He acted on instinct, stretching out with the dark energy, sending tendrils ahead into the silent tower. The action came as naturally as breathing.

  Immediately, though, he flinched back.

  There was other kan at work within the building, but to Caeden’s senses it felt … broken. Wild. Not dangerous, necessarily, but uncontrolled. Wisps lashed about spasmodically, tethered to a central point but thrashing, as if struggling to break free. Wherever Essence came into contact with kan it was torn apart; other threads of the dark power seemed to be feeding along the lines that should have lit the building, as if seeking out energy to destroy.

  Caeden opened his eyes again after a minute, considering the tower and letting his ball of Essence decay. Something within had broken into the lin
es of Essence that ran around the city, and the kan he’d sensed was devouring that exposed energy. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but protected Essence—such as that contained within his body—should be safe.

  He tapped into his Reserve again, rekindling the light but instinctively making it looser this time. Rather than a solid ball, he strung several strands of Essence into smaller spheres, separating them from one another.

  He considered the result with a small frown. The illumination was much the same strength as before but if it was hit by a strand of wild kan, only a few balls would Decay. It took a little more concentration to maintain, but it meant that he wouldn’t be abruptly left without light.

  He just wished that he could remember how he’d known to do that.

  He slowly moved forward, pushing open the door and letting the spheres of Essence drift into the room in front him. Immediately lashes of kan began slicing through them but Caeden hardened kan of his own, pushing back against the majority of the thrashing tendrils.

  Once confident that his light wouldn’t be extinguished, he turned his attention to the single large room in which he found himself.

  The part of the space that he could see was completely bare, with no furnishings or anything to distinguish it. As he shifted forward though, toward the source of the wild kan, a large object in the corner resolved itself from the shadows. He squinted, moving closer.

  Something hard crunched underfoot.

  He frowned, pausing to examine the tiny shards of metal and glass that littered the stone floor. As he saw the larger pieces of black rock mixed amongst the debris, he extended his Essence a little farther, illuminating the origin of the rubble.

  A giant lump of twisted metal and stone was all that remained, but Caeden recognized it nonetheless. Half of the wolf’s head had sunk and merged as if melted by a blacksmith’s forge. The capsule below was open but misshapen, the wickedly edged needles inside blackened and bent. There were ashes at its base—though what they had once been, Caeden had no idea.