Imperium Chronicles Box Set

by W. H. Mitchell

  Then, everything went black.

  When Doric finally opened her eyes, she wasn’t sure if they were really open. Everything was pitch-black.

  “Hello?” she said and felt someone grab her arm.

  “Jess!” Maycare’s voice came from the dark beside her.

  Doric felt someone kneel close to her. She could smell Maycare’s aftershave mixed with sweat and dirt.

  “How do you feel?” Maycare asked.

  “I think I’m okay,” she said, although in truth her stomach was queasy. “Where are we?”

  “No idea, but probably on a ship of some sort.”

  “We’re going to die,” someone grumbled, probably a Tal by the sound of his voice.

  “What makes you say that?” Doric asked.

  “The K’thonians took us,” a different Tal replied. “When that happens, you don’t come back.”

  The darkness became quiet. Bringing her knees up, Doric wrapped her arms around them. Something big, probably Maycare, was breathing like an angry bear close by. She could feel his frustration. He wasn’t the kind of man who liked waiting for much of anything. She hoped he wouldn’t pick a fight with any of the others. They were all in the same boat.

  After a long time, she couldn’t be sure exactly how long, she sensed the ship emerging from hyperspace.

  “When they open the door, I’ll charge whoever it is,” Maycare whispered down at her.

  More time passed, but nothing happened. Just when Doric thought nothing ever would, a gap opened in the floor, filling the room with a shaft of blinding light. Doric covered her eyes as she felt the floor give way. Gasping, she hovered in the air above a stone platform fifty feet below. It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t falling.

  Surrounded by a green light, Doric spied Maycare, along with several Tals. They were suspended above the hole in the deck. Then, the green light turned to a darker shade and everyone began descending, the sensation sending whatever was left in Doric’s stomach up into her mouth. She struggled to keep it down. More importantly, she fought to keep from screaming. In front of Lord Maycare, that just wouldn’t do.

  The beam lowered the group from the belly of the ship all the way to the rocky terrace. When the light blinked off, the ship ascended almost immediately, vanishing into the low-hanging clouds.

  Maycare and Doric got to their feet while the others, five male Tals, milled about in confusion.

  “Does any of this look familiar?” Maycare asked no one in particular.

  Taking a deep breath, Doric scanned the horizon. A dark ocean encircled them. On the horizon, the water and the dull gray of the sky melded into a single, all-encompassing curtain, hemming them in.

  “I’ve no idea,” she replied. “We could be anywhere.”

  “What about these drawings?” Maycare said, pointing at four pillars positioned along the outside of the platform. “They look like doors or something.”

  “The writing around the edges is the same as in the grimoire,” Doric replied. “I wasn’t able to translate that part before the book was stolen.”

  Maycare put his sizable hands on his hips and let out a deep sigh. “Well, shit.”

  A few of the Tals examined the pillars as well, while two went down one of the stone stairs to the water’s edge. Doric started to follow but stubbed her shoe against a deep crevice. It was part of an octagram carved into the center of the terrace.

  Someone gave a sharp cry, making Doric jump. Both she and Maycare turned to see a Tal dragged under the dark water by a giant tentacle. The other Tal scrambled back up the stairs, terror in his eyes.

  Like a forest growing from the sea, tentacles lined with black suckers rose over the platform. One of the tendrils took hold of another Tal, lifting him in the air kicking and screaming. The coiling limb pulled him down, the Tal’s flailing arms the last thing Doric saw before he disappeared into the churning waves. She stared in shock until Maycare’s voice pierced the horror.

  “Get into the water!” he yelled.

  “What?” she asked in disbelief.

  Without waiting, Maycare yanked her arm, nearly dragging her to the edge of the stairs, even as a tentacle lay directly in front of them.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Doric shouted.

  Instead of a witty retort, he pulled them past the squirming arm and into the icy cold sea. With no time to even take a breath, Doric swallowed a mouthful of salty water, choking when she resurfaced with Maycare beside her. He began swimming on his back, still holding on to her, taking them away from the stone platform. Behind them, the remaining Tals were crying for help until, one by one, their calls fell silent.

  Forty yards from the terrace, Maycare stopped and began treading water. Doric did her best to do the same, although swimming was not her strong suit.

  “We’re going to drown!” she said.

  “Quiet!” he replied sharply.

  Doric, her hair dripping in her eyes, scowled but stayed as silent as she could. After ten minutes, the tendrils drew back from the terrace, leaving it empty. Doric pictured a long appendage curling around her ankle and pulling her under, but more minutes passed and nothing happened. There was only silence and the gentle splashing of waves against their soaked bodies.

  “How did you know that would work?” Doric finally whispered.

  His glance back at her told Doric all she needed to know. He had simply guessed.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “I’ve no idea,” he replied, “but I’m pretty sure we can’t go back to the platform.”

  Using her arms and legs, Doric rose a little higher in the water, but even after straining her neck in every direction, there were no other landmarks anywhere in sight. She began wondering how long she could swim, but she didn’t like the math.

  For another hour, they remained in the same spot, not drifting far from the terrace, but not allowing themselves to get much closer either. Doric tried not to panic, but the real possibility of dying crept into her thoughts. She pictured what she’d look like as a drowned corpse. She shook her head and focused on Maycare, who had been surprisingly quiet.

  “Are you okay?” Doric asked.

  “Me? Oh, sure,” he replied.

  “Really?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I’m usually pretty lucky in these situations...”

  If this was how she was going to die, Doric thought to herself, she could at least see Maycare finally lose at something.

  At that moment, something large appeared below them, visible through the dark water. Doric screamed despite herself, but her feet and legs touched something hard and metal, not soft and squishy. In less than a minute, she found herself spread-eagled across the deck of a miniature submarine.

  “Son of a bitch,” she said, relieved and exasperated at the same time.

  She rolled onto her back side with Maycare in the same position. From the conning tower jutting up at the center of the sub, a rounded hatch swung open and a tiny, pink-haired woman poked out her head.

  “Hi there!” she said. “I’m Mel... need a lift?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  While Mel Freck’s mini-submarine may have been cozy by Gnomi standards, Maycare and Doric found it a bit cramped. In the main compartment, not much more than a cylinder covered in electronic knobs and switches, both humans were curled into a ball with their knees nearly to their chins.

  “Nice place you’ve got here,” Maycare quipped. “Lots of space...”

  “It also keeps you from drowning,” Mel replied sharply.

  Maycare shrugged. “Okay, you got me there.”

  “Where did you come from?” Doric asked. “Do you know what planet this is?”

  “Well, I was on Eudora Prime originally and then I popped out a magic doorway here,” Mel said. “As for where here is? I was hoping you might know.”

  Doric shook her head with a frown.

  “That’s alright,” Mel went on. “Let me show you around...”

 
In the nose of the sub, a plastic dome offered a fish-eye view. Flicking on a spotlight, Mel illuminated the murky waters directly ahead, allowing her to steer through the darkness. She turned the sub back toward the platform, keeping their depth just below the surface.

  Through the dome, Doric could just make out the stone steps which appeared to go much farther down than she expected.

  “That’s odd,” she remarked.

  “The stairs?” Mel asked. “Yeah, that’s just the half of it.”

  Adding some ballast, Mel pitched the nose down as they sank deeper.

  “See?” the Gnomi went on. “It’s not a platform at all. It’s a roof!”

  Doric understood. “It’s a building.”

  “A temple, actually,” Mel said. “You’ll see what I mean in a bit.”

  The sub descended, the light filtering from the surface fading into the deep indigo of the ocean. Mel brought the craft around in a wide, looping circle, her powerful lamp cutting a path in front of them.

  Monolithic pillars emerged from the gloom. Doric could make out abstract shapes carved into the sides, now partially covered in barnacles.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  “I think it was a city,” Mel replied. “Not sure, to be honest.”

  Mel stopped the boat abruptly, the beam of light landing on a patch of complete blackness directly ahead. Doric leaned toward the front, her face nearly touching the dome. Outside, like stars appearing in the night sky, speckles of white winked into existence. A few appeared at first, followed by dozens, then hundreds. When they started blinking back at her, Doric screamed.

  “What the hell, Jess?” Maycare shouted, covering his ears in the tiny compartment.

  “They’re eyes!” Doric replied, gasping. “It’s a wall of eyes!”

  “That’s Fred,” Mel replied. “I mean, I don’t know his real name, so I call him Fred.”

  A tentacle, thicker than a tree trunk, swiped across the bow of the submarine.

  “It’s the creature from the surface,” Maycare said. “It’s the thing that killed the Tals!”

  “Yeah, that’s Fred for you,” Mel said calmly. “He won’t bother us as long as we stay off the roof.”

  “Is that how you survived?” Doric said, catching her breath.

  “Yeah, as soon as I saw those tentacles, I got the hell outta there. Pretty glad I did.”

  Mel turned the sub away from the creature, following a path through a field of pillars until an opening appeared at the base of the temple. Piloting the craft into the structure, she stopped their forward movement, bringing the sub up. Within a minute, they broke the surface inside a cavernous chamber.

  “Here we are!” Mel said, climbing the conning tower and cracking open the hatch. Maycare and Doric shared a glance but followed her up the ladder.

  The mini-submarine floated beside a rudimentary dock lashed together with cordage and copper wires. The dock led to a stone walkway cluttered with wreckage, similar to what Maycare and Doric had seen on Isyium. Some of the larger pieces had the same red and black K’thonian markings.

  “Where’d you get all this stuff?” Maycare asked, trailing behind Mel as she led them through the piles of junk.

  “There’s scrap all over the bottom among the ruins,” Mel explained. “I salvaged what I could and hauled it up here. I made this sub out of the pieces I found.”

  Maycare whistled. “That’s amazing!”

  “You’re damn right!” Mel replied.

  “Where did it all come from?” Doric asked.

  “Hard tellin’” the Gnomi said, “but I think ships have been coming here for a long time.”

  Mel brought them through a narrow passage and into a central room decorated with relief sculptures along the walls and ceiling. A bed made from foam insulation lay in a corner. Other corridors stretched off in several directions.

  “Where do these go?” Maycare asked.

  “This place is lousy with tunnels,” Mel said. “Mostly empty rooms and rusted doors.”

  Doric examined a sculpture on one of the walls. It portrayed K’thonians wearing robes, bowing before a single eye surrounded by withered trees. Doric felt a tingle go up her spine.

  “Do you hear something?” Maycare remarked, lifting his head.

  “It’s coming from the dock!” Mel replied, already sprinting back through the passageway.

  When Maycare and Doric reached the main cavern, a whirlpool churned in the center of the water, the level dropping quickly. The mini-submarine, moored to the dock, hung suspended as the water drained away.

  “Stay clear of the dock!” Mel shouted.

  With the sound of cracking wood, the sub dragged the dock down until it snapped where it was attached to the stone walkway. The entire structure fell to the bottom, now a hundred feet below. A cacophony of noise echoed off the domed ceiling.

  Doric and the others peered over the edge, staring into the hole where the sub had been floating just moments before. In the gloom at the bottom, pieces of broken metal and shattered wood planks floated in a jumble.

  Mel sighed loudly. “Well, crap on a cracker...”

  Stepping through the portal, Lars Hatcher and Philip Veber were greeted with the pungent smell of salt water and a thin mist in their faces.

  “What is this place?” Lars asked, surveying the endless ocean around him.

  “The planet is called Neosho,” Philip replied, holding a large canvas bag. “It’s the K’thonian birthplace.”

  “A little damp.”

  “It’s an ocean world. This location is the only place above water anywhere on the planet.”

  On the stone platform were four pillars, each with a portal symbol, including the one from which they had just emerged. Four sets of stairs disappeared into the water.

  “We should hurry actually—” Philip began saying when tentacles, thicker than a man’s torso, erupted from the bubbling waves. Reaching twenty feet into the air, the tips of the worm-like tendrils twisted and bobbed above Lars’ head.

  Philip’s mouth sneered with irritation. “See what I mean?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Lars replied, lifting his hands.

  Closing his eyes while he concentrated, Lars felt a surge of energy flowing from his mind. Stretching his hands upward, he pulled them apart in a sweeping motion. The sea around the platform receded as if pushed away by an invisible pressure. A massive bowl of water formed around them, the edges retreating until geological features, previously submerged, rose into the air. The edges of a crater, with the platform at its center, jutted out of the ocean as the water inside was pushed outward.

  Lars opened his eyes.

  “Impressive!” Philip said. “I knew you’d be useful!”

  “Where’s the creature?” Lars asked.

  “Look for yourself.”

  They both went to the edge. Far below, where the water had pooled at the base of the temple, a black mass of eyes and tentacles strained toward them.

  “We’re high enough now I doubt the Guardian of the Gate can reach us,” Philip said. “How long can you keep the ocean at bay?”

  “As long as I need to,” Lars replied, though his face remained strained.

  Philip and Lars descended one of the staircases. The stone was slick with green muck below the original waterline. After several steps, the stairs split on either side of a passage leading into the building. Lars and Philip passed through, algae hanging from the archway dripping on their heads.

  “This was a temple to the Old Ones,” Philip said, swallowed by the darkness of the passageway. “The K’thonians still bring offerings here, although they’re eaten by the Guardian, of course.”

  “Of course,” Lars replied.

  “My predecessor sent offerings here, too,” Philip went on.

  “Why?”

  “He believed keeping the Guardian well fed meant keeping the gate closed. I suppose he thought the Guardian could open the gates himself.”

  “
Was he right?” Lars asked.

  “No, Ghazul was a fool,” Philip replied and raised the bag he was holding. “You need these to do that!”

  Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Philip delved deeper into the passage until it ended at a heavily encrusted door. Barnacles and limpets, along with a blue-green layer of corrosion, covered the metal door.

  “Well, that hasn’t been opened for a while,” Lars remarked.

  “No, I don’t imagine it would have,” Philip said, pointing first at Lars and then back at the door. “If you don’t mind...”

  “Right.”

  Focusing his mind, Lars thrust his hand forward with the palm out, sending a telekinetic wave crashing into the door. The corroded hinges disintegrated into a cloud of dust as the door fell with a reverberating crash on the other side. The sound echoed down passageways into the distance.

  Although the interior of the temple was dry compared to the outside, the walls were still spotted with mold and mildew. The ever-present smell of salt also permeated the air. The hallway eventually opened into a circular room with a domed ceiling. On the floor in the center was an eight-pointed star with four pedestals around the edges.

  Philip dropped the bag on the floor. “Now we get to work!”

  “Now what do we do?” Doric asked.

  Mel turned from the hole where her submarine, or what was left of it, lay in pieces at the bottom.

  “I think we’re screwed,” she replied.

  “Come on,” Maycare said. “There’s got to be another way out of here. What about all those passageways?”

  “I’ve explored all of this place,” Mel went on, “and I haven’t found a single tunnel leading back to the surface.”

  The three remained silent, none of them looking at each other, until another resounding din assaulted their ears. Instead of from the pit, the noise came from the passageways.