by Dima Zales
A long while.
“I’m much better at creating than dealing with other people’s creations,” she finally mumbles in frustration. “Maybe if—”
“Crap,” Ariel says. “We’re about to have company.”
I look at where Ariel’s helmet is facing and spot a familiar group of gnomes.
“They’re the ones who ate that poor orc woman,” I whisper when they get closer.
The gnomes examine the denizens of the nearby cages with the same expressions I’ve seen on people’s faces at the all-you-can-eat buffets in Vegas.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Ariel says.
“No, I think this is for real,” Felix says, his voice unsteady. “I’m pretty sure they’re choosing their next meal.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
The gnomes walk up to the cage with the vengeful orc and seem to enjoy it when he futilely tries to attack them through the bars.
When they tire of watching him, they turn their gazes to me.
Oh no. If they’re in the mood for something different, with the suit, I just might end up on the menu.
“Hurry,” I hiss at Itzel. “What’s taking you so long?”
“I told you before,” she replies, her hands shaking. “I have trouble working under stress.”
Grunting, Felix takes off his gloves and walks up to the mechanism.
“Silicon chips,” he mumbles after the longest minute of my life. “Maybe if I—”
I don’t hear the rest, my attention split between the gnomes outside my cage and the arc of magical energy going from Felix’s finger to the lock.
The lock makes a chirping sound, and Felix’s cage opens.
“Now do that orc,” Ariel says tensely.
“Or better yet, all the cages at once,” I say.
More energy streams from Felix’s fingers, and the lock in the orc’s cage shimmers—as does the lock in mine and all the ones in the neighboring cages.
“Never send a gnome to do a technomancer’s job,” Felix says triumphantly when all the cages open as one.
The freed orc jumps onto the nearest gnome and rips into him.
Ariel steps out of her cage, grabs a gnome, and tosses him at the rest.
The suit must greatly amplify her already-prodigious strength because the gnome fells his crew like a battering ram, causing screams of pain and severe injuries.
I see a bunch of armed gnomes racing toward us. “Run!” I shout.
My friends gladly comply, and we all scramble toward the hill we came from.
There are nightmarish screams behind us, and when I sneak a peek back, I see many former captives taking out their frustrations on the gnome gourmands.
As we keep running, Ariel takes the lead, and Itzel and Felix stay on my heels.
The suit lets me run much faster than I’d be able to do on my own, and when we reach the top of the hill, I spare another look back—and almost wish I didn’t.
A whole squad of spear-carrying gnomes is behind us—though it’s unclear if they’re chasing us or escaping their unwilling food stash.
“Head for the grass!” I yell, pointing at the waist-high brush at the bottom of the hill. “Our suits are powered; their legs are not.”
Everyone follows my suggestion, and we find ourselves treading through the grass before our pursuers get off the hill.
When we’re almost out of the bush, a spear whooshes by my shoulder.
“Crap,” I pant. “They’re getting pissy.”
Another spear nearly pierces Ariel’s foot and yet another almost hits Felix in the back, where it could’ve ruined not one but two suits.
“Itzel,” I bark. “Shoot your lightning at the grass.”
Her gloves still off, Itzel turns and does as I ordered. “I’m not getting paid enough for this,” she chants under her breath, over and over, like a magic spell.
The mere sight of Itzel’s projectile seems to silence our pursuers—that is, until the ball of plasma hits the grass and the oxygen-rich air helps the cellulose ignite like jet fuel.
“Felix, don’t look back,” I say as the first screams of burning gnomes reach us.
“How come these gnomes didn’t shoot the same ball lightning stuff at us?” Ariel asks over panting breaths. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
“Their parents must not have taught them this, or anything else for that matter,” Itzel says sadly. “All part of this horrific degeneration.”
“Why don’t we shelve discussions for when we’re out of this hellhole?” Felix suggests. He then mutters a string of Russian curses before saying tersely, “More freaking gnomes ahead.”
Ariel curses too, unwittingly translating what Felix just said.
At least a hundred armed dudes are streaming down a hill ahead, screaming at the top of their lungs.
“We can make it,” I say breathlessly. “Follow me.”
I push myself to the limit, squeezing as much speed out of my suit’s motors and my own muscles as I can.
We zoom by the foot of the hill and leave the new group behind us, but they give chase.
A spear flies at Ariel.
She snatches it from the air and tosses it back.
The projectile goes straight through one gnome and skewers the next.
Wow.
Score two for Ariel’s super-strength combined with the suit.
The gnomes must be equally impressed with what happened, because they slow down—which gives us the window we need to race for the gate and leap into it just as another round of spears flies our way.
Chapter Thirty-Four
We jump out on the other side and keep running. All I register at first is that the grass under my feet is green, and the sky has a yellow tint to it.
Then I see a purple gate—our destination—in the distance and realize that this hub is huge, with gates spread far apart. Luckily, each stride makes me fly through the air as though the suit’s usual assistance has doubled in power.
“Weaker gravity here,” Felix says as he takes giant leaps beside me.
“Shut up and keep running for that gate,” Ariel says. “Gnomes are Cognizant and just as capable of traversing the gates as each of us.”
“Except they didn’t follow us,” Itzel says, glancing over her shoulder. “I wonder why?”
I slow down and glance around.
The hub appears to be in a giant meadow, with a lush forest surrounding it on all sides.
Felix, Ariel, and Itzel come to a complete halt.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Ariel says, her helmet swiveling to the right.
I stop and follow her gaze.
No wonder the gnomes didn’t chase us here.
Coming toward us is a creature the size of a truck, its dozens of legs shuffling back and forth like brushes at a car wash.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Is that a—” Felix starts in a horrified tone.
“Giant millipede, yes,” Ariel says, sounding choked. “And I don’t even want to know what the spiders here look like.”
“You might find out,” I say, staring at a bee-like creature the size of a helicopter that just landed on what looks like a giant fishnet between two dead trees.
“We should go around,” Felix says as the millipede picks up speed. “It’s coming right for us.”
In that moment, an entire horde of giant insects appears from the forest, including a spider the size of Shelob—the one that almost ate Frodo in The Lord of the Rings.
Itzel mumbles something unintelligible about square-cube law under her breath, but I don’t pay attention because that’s when the screech reaches my ears.
Or more precisely, my bones.
The deep sound vibrates through me, shaking every cell in my body.
The millipede’s legs blur with speed, and the bee frantically beats its wings, futilely trying to escape the sticky web.
And that’s when I feel the ground shake.
Is this an earth
quake? A volcanic eruption?
No.
It’s what all these creatures are escaping from.
“Jump!” Ariel screams, and I realize the millipede is almost upon us.
We leap into the air, and the nifty gravity works with the suit assist to give us a jump worthy of Super Mario.
The millipede whooshes past us before we land back down.
As one, we face the fleeing horde of insects, and I see what they’re running from.
It’s an enormous dinosaur.
The creature is easily the size of Godzilla but looks more like a mix between a T-Rex and an ostrich.
As we watch in stunned shock, it casually shreds an RV-sized ant into little pieces, then snatches a couple of giant flies from the air, gobbling them down without even bothering to chew.
Then its radio-dish-sized eyes land on us.
“It must like shiny things,” Felix says, his voice shaking. “That or something else about us looks appetizing.”
As though in agreement with his words, the monstrosity heads our way.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“I’m seriously not getting paid enough for this,” Itzel says in a panicked tone as she resumes running toward the purple gate.
Felix, Ariel, and I follow, taking giant leaps with each step.
I take the lead over my friends as the ground shakes more violently with each second.
When I’m a stone’s throw away from the gate, everyone shouts something unintelligible inside my helmet.
Instinctively, I duck, and the huge claw reaching for me passes through the purple gate.
A chunk of the claw disappears, sliced off by the gate’s plasma-like surface.
Right. The gates don’t let this type of creature travel to other worlds—a smart design feature on the gate makers’ behalf.
The pained screech of the monster is so loud that the air pushes me closer to the gate—and I jump in as a river of blood from the severed claw sprays my way.
My blood-splattered friends land on the other side of the gate next to me, and we all stop, panting in relief as we look around.
We’re standing on a patch of rocky ground between puddles of boiling yellow liquid, with smears of green and orange on their sides. They remind me of pools of acid in a geothermal park—except this park stretches as far as the eye can see.
The sky above is dark gray, as if a storm is coming, and the air appears to have a pinkish tint to it.
I take a step toward the next gate and feel a little lightheaded.
“Hold your breath and hurry,” Itzel says, jumping over a puddle as she breaks into a run. “I don’t know if the field I generated around these suits can withstand the exotic bouquet of toxins on this world.”
I launch into a sprint as well, doing my best not to gulp in panicked breaths.
When we reach the destination gate, we all jump in.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It’s night time on the world we end up in, with faint light from four differently sized moons illuminating a flat, whitish surface. It looks like a salt desert, with the crystals gleaming serenely in the moonlight.
“Now what?” Itzel asks.
Felix turns toward her. “Can you walk away from us? Sasha could then get a vision of what happens in our near future and—”
“No,” Ariel says sternly. “It’s too dangerous. We stay together.”
“You don’t want me to go, anyway,” Itzel says. “These suits might need my power boost at any moment.”
The brightest of the four moons dims for a second, catching my attention.
“Are you seeing that?” I wave at the sky. “Please tell me it’s a cloud.”
Before my friends can reply, I see that it is not a cloud.
Either the toxins from the prior world have powerful hallucinogenic side effects, or I’m looking at tentacles.
An impossibly large, ghostly squid-like thing is floating in the sky.
“Please don’t let this be the Cognizant type that inspired Lovecraftian horrors,” Felix says tremulously.
“Afraid so.” Ariel’s voice matches his. “It looks a lot like Cthulhu.”
“Run,” I say and put actions to words as salt crunches under my feet. “Our gate is just over—”
And this is when the mental assault—for lack of a better term—hits my brain.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Thinking becomes impossible, and I stop, swaying on my feet.
The terrible noise reminds me of when Fluffster mentally shouted at Harper, the succubus who tried to kill me and Felix. Like that time, this sounds like death metal played backward and in slow motion—just a zillion times more intense.
I feel insignificant. Like an amoeba facing an angry elephant.
Fighting the desire to fall down and curl into a little ball, I ball my fists instead and take a step.
“I can’t do this.” Itzel’s voice doesn’t sound like her own. “I’m done. You go. Save yourselves.”
Wow. The mental assault is affecting a gnome—beings immune from vampire glamour and things like that. What chance do our unprotected minds have?
“Shut up,” Felix grits out, grabbing Itzel’s arm. “Just think of building some gadget or getting paid more, and keep moving.”
He drags Itzel step after shuffling step, and they pass through the gate.
Faintly, I feel my seer intuition ring a distant alarm—just as the intensity of the mental assault grows exponentially.
My legs buckle under the onslaught, and I realize that this is it.
Whatever the thing in the sky wants, it’s about to do to me.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Ariel shouts and gives me a rough push in the butt region of my suit.
As I fly into the gate, I hear her say, “See you on the other side.”
I prepare to faceplant on the ground but float into a liquid instead, my feet sinking down into something solid.
This must be an ocean floor or the bottom of some sea because everything outside the faint glow of my suit is pitch black.
The only thing I can make out is Itzel and Felix, thanks to their suits’ illumination, and the glowing plasma gate at my back.
“Where’s Ariel?” Felix asks, his helmet swiveling from side to side.
“She should be out any second,” I say.
But several seconds pass without Ariel appearing.
“Damn it,” I say and take a clumsy step toward the gate. “I’m going back after her.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I cross the gate back into the sky creature’s world and see Ariel walking away from the gate and toward a skyscraper-sized tentacle.
Ignoring my seer angst with all my might, I grab Ariel by her arm and drag her back.
She doesn’t fight me, but the devastating mental attack explodes in my head again—and I’m not sure if I can take it.
On a hunch, I bite my tongue.
The pain keeps the mental shrieking at bay long enough for me to drag Ariel another step toward the gate.
But on the next step, I find it harder. The shrieking is growing in volume, and I feel like my brain is about to explode.
If I lose this fight, Ariel and I will hold hands as we skip right into that thing’s mouth—and it’s almost a certainty that I will lose before reaching the gate.
Suddenly, I hear a string of multilingual curses in my helmet and feel someone’s hand grab my arm.
I clutch Ariel and let myself get herded into the gate.
As I’m recovering my wits in the watery depths of the new world, Felix lets go of my arm. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” I lie.
“I blanked out,” Ariel says in a sleepy voice. “The last thing I remember is pushing Sasha into the gate.”
“That creature must’ve broken into your mind,” Itzel says. Under her breath, she adds, “I’m so not getting paid enough for this.”
Felix faces the gnome. “Will our suits be okay with all this water?�
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“The pressure is tolerable, and I’m not detecting any toxicity outside,” Itzel says. “We should still get moving, though. I didn’t design our oxygen tanks to resupply themselves from water.”
She doesn’t need to ask us twice. We head to where the gate should be, according to the map. We can’t see it in the darkness, though.
Moving under water is extremely slow and nerve-racking, and my mind conjures up giant sharks and underwater sea monsters.
In my defense, after seeing a tentacled monstrosity in the sky, expecting one in this water is quite reasonable.
We’ve taken fewer than twenty steps when I see a cloud of tiny lights swimming toward us.
Crap.
I just had to jinx us with my imagination, didn’t I?
“I assume everyone remembers that scene from Finding Nemo,” Felix says, speeding up. “I doubt we’ll like whatever those pretty lights are attached to.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Itzel says, but like the rest of us, she doubles her clumsy steps.
The lights are coming closer.
“I hate it when Felix is right,” Itzel says, swatting at a light that tries to attack her.
Whatever she swatted must’ve gotten hurt—because the light falls to the bottom.
A light dives in my direction, and I punch the creature just as I glimpse it.
It looks like it was designed by Hollywood’s horror film CGI experts on acid. Its teeth seem to have warts, and the warts seem to have teeth. Something this ugly can only exist in these lightless depths. If the males and females of this fish ever saw each other in daylight, they would refuse to propagate the species.
Another monstrosity dives at my helmet.
Using the move Thalia drilled into me, I punch the thing in what I’ll generously call its face.
Something cracks, and the broken thing floats down.
The deaths of their brethren don’t scare the other monstrosities. Like sharks scenting blood, they dive for us in a killing frenzy.
