by R S Penney
16
The world trembled.
Stumbling down the stairs, Dalen threw his hands against the wall and grimaced. All this shaking left a queasiness in his belly. He was just grateful that he hadn’t fallen over. A man could break his neck in this chaos.
With careful steps, he made his way to the first floor, but another tremor flung him into the wall again. He braced his hands against the plaster. “Hurry!” he called to those behind him. “But be careful!”
Zoe was five stairs up, clinging to the railing with teeth bared. “Easy for you to say,” she muttered, descending one more step.
Jim was behind her, trying desperately to stay on his feet, and Victor brought up the rear. The door to the first-floor apartment opened, and Mrs. Carmichael spilled out. She staggered a few steps and nearly crashed into him.
“Goodness!” she gasped, crossing arms in front of herself to hide her robe? Dalen wondered at that. Wasn’t the whole purpose of a robe to hide whatever was underneath? This forced modesty seemed a tad redundant.
Her trembling hands cranked the deadbolt, and she pulled the front door open, falling on her backside as the world shook. Zoe reached the foot of the stairs, collapsing into Dalen’s arms. He steadied her and urged her to follow their landlady out into the street.
Jim was next.
Dalen reached for him, taking the man’s hand and guiding him down. He went with the others out into the night.
Victor was frozen on the fourth stair, clutching the railing. His face was flushed as he shook his head. “The whole place is coming down!”
“Come on!” Dalen urged.
“I…I…can’t.”
Scrambling up the steps, the quake nearly knocking him off his feet, Dalen seized the other man’s shoulder. A few insistent tugs got Victor in motion again. Together, they ran out the front door.
Stone steps shook beneath them as they dashed out onto the cobblestone street. Despite the chill, Dalen saw half a dozen people standing on the road in their nightclothes. No one wanted to be inside during an earthquake.
He turned to the west, staring off to the edge of the city where the others had gone. Somehow, he knew they were mixed up in all this. But how? What kind of Field Binding could unleash such fury?
Not Field Binding, he realized. This is something else.
Abruptly, the tremors stopped.
Dalen bent double with his hands on his knees, muscles aching, nerves racked. He gave his head a shake to clear away the dizziness. “All right,” he said, forcing himself to stand up straight. “Is anyone hurt?”
He turned around to find a handful of terrified people standing in the street, all staring at him with wide eyes. They weren’t sure of what to make of all this. Neither was Dalen. He scanned his memory for some clue as to what might have happened. Was New Beloran on a faultline? Had he ever read anything to that effect? Somehow, he didn’t think so.
For many of these people, this might have been their first encounter with a quake. They probably thought their Almighty was lashing out at them in rage. Life was a good deal simpler when you didn’t believe in gods.
Then again, the gods that Dalen had been taught to revere were not only real but playing an active role in this struggle against Hanak Tuvar. How frustrating! At the age of fourteen, Dalen had acquainted himself with all the arguments for and against belief in a deity. The nays had a much stronger case. It irked him that even with superior rationality, the atheist position was wrong. The world just shouldn’t work like that.
A heavyset man with two chins stepped forward, pointing at Dalen. “You!” he growled. “This is your doing!”
Dalen felt creases lining his brow. “My doing?” he stammered, shaking his head. “How could I have caused an earthquake?”
“I saw you this afternoon,” the big man said. “Holding hands with that other boy. The Almighty punishes sin.”
Some of the others started grumbling, casting dirty looks at Dalen. A spike of fear went through him. How to handle this? He couldn’t fight. He had never learned.
Dalen stepped forward with his hands up in a placating gesture, shutting his eyes and breathing slowly. “Friend, that’s impossible,” he began. “Earthquakes are caused by shifts in tectonic-”
The big man came at Dalen with his fist raised.
Just like that, Jim was there, placing himself between Dalen and his would-be assailant. “That’s enough!” he snapped. “We’ll gain nothing by turning on each other.”
“Out of my way!”
Jim refused to budge.
The big brute threw a punch, but Jim’s hands moved with cat-like speed, seizing the other man’s wrist. Jim twisted his arm at an odd angle, producing a screech of pain.
With a little pressure on the elbow, Jim forced the oaf down onto his knees. “Now,” he said. “I trust we can avoid any further unpleasantness.”
“Give over, Gerald!” Mrs. Carmichael snapped, still hiding her robe behind crossed arms. “The lad isn’t to blame and you bloody-well know it!”
Tilting his head back, Dalen looked up at the stars. He blinked, running through scenarios in his mind. “We have to leave,” he mumbled before he realized what he was saying. “Get out of the city.”
Mrs. Carmichael’s cold stare fell upon him. “Why on Earth would we do that?”
“Something is wrong,” Dalen insisted. “Our friends…”
“Where are your friends?” the old woman inquired.
He ignored her, rounding on the others in his group. Zoe and Victor stood on the curb. The girl wore a frilly nightdress. The sun had gone down less than two hours ago, but Zoe had always been inclined to turn in early. In all likelihood, she had been reading when the quake started. She liked to relax with a good book before going to sleep. Dalen approved.
Victor was in his shirtsleeves, still carrying the flask of whisky that he had been drinking in the sitting room. The man was nervous, his hands shaking.
“Get dressed,” Dalen barked. “And gather your things. We’re leaving the city.”
“Good!” Gerald spat.
The man was cradling his sore arm now that Jim had released him, snarling at Dalen like an angry bear. “Take your sin somewhere else,” he added.
Spinning to face him, Dalen stepped forward and thrust out his chin. “I suggest that you do the same,” he said coldly. “Something has gone wrong.”
“Like I would take advice from a-”
He cut off when Dalen turned away and ran back into the boarding house. Up the stairs and into their small apartment. He was already dressed, thankfully, but there were other concerns.
Dropping to his knees next to a wooden chest, Dalen began retrieving his books and shoving them into a bag. He couldn’t bear to leave them behind. Which was foolish, he realized. He should be thinking about food and supplies. Perhaps Mrs. Carmichael would spare them some bread and cheese from her pantry. If not, they would have to buy food.
But where?
The nearest city was Ofalla, and if he recalled correctly, it was nearly three days away on horseback. Could they survive that long without food? Maybe they could hunt. Jim had some skill with a bow, didn’t he? He kept loading his bag with books as these thoughts crossed his mind.
Zoe came barreling into the apartment, suddenly aware of her state of undress. She flew into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
Jim was the next to appear in the doorway, bracing one hand on the frame and frowning at Dalen. “You’re sure about this?”
Shutting his eyes tight, Dalen nodded vigorously. “Yes,” he said. “We have to go. With any luck, we’ll find Tommy, Miri and Kalia.”
“But how could they have caused an earthquake?”
Dalen didn’t answer. He just spun around and shoved the bag into the other man’s hands. Then he began searching for clothes, pulling his shirts and coats out of a nearby closet. He had come here with only two of the former and one of the latter, but a month spent working had provided enough
for a few extra garments. A necessity if you wanted to look presentable.
He chose a shirt and a pair of trousers, stuffing them into the bag on top of his books. The coat he put on and buttoned.
Zoe bolted out of the bedroom, now dressed in black pants and a white blouse, the strap of a bag slung over her shoulder. “Mrs. Carmichael,” she panted, running to a chest of drawers and pulling one open. “She’ll want payment for this week’s rent.”
“We haven’t stayed the full week,” Victor protested.
“Then we’ll pay her for two days,” Zoe panted
Dalen was pleased to see that Victor had an armload of clothes that he tried to stuff into a bag he had left on the couch. Some of those belonged to Jim and Tommy. Did Zoe get Miri and Kalia’s things?
Down the stairs, they went, back out to the street where Mrs. Carmichael waited next to a lamppost. She eyed them, curious. “You really mean to go then?” she asked. “You’ve found good jobs here.”
“We all have to get out of the city,” Dalen panted. “All of us. You as well. Go get dressed and retrieve some food from the kitchen. Whatever you can carry.”
“Now, listen here-”
The wind began to howl.
Dalen spun to the west, listening. At first, he thought that he might be overreacting, but then he heard it. An inhuman shriek. It was like ice crumbling and nails scratching against a rock, cats screeching and hammers striking anvils. All of these things at once. He had never heard anything so terrible.
Dalen felt his jaw drop, sweat beading on his forehead, rolling over his brow. “We have to go,” he said again “Now!”
The darkness exploded with a wail that felt like knives stabbing into Desa’s skull, a mass of tentacles writhing and undulating, slamming down on the grass with a thump that rattled her bones. The creature that emerged was almost like a squid, but there were no eyes. Just a perfectly-round mouth with dozens of sharp teeth protruding from its circular lip like stalactites hanging from a cave’s ceiling.
She cowered against the wall with her hands over her ears, tears leaking from her eyes, spilling over her cheeks. “We have to kill it!” she bellowed.
Tommy backed up on shaky legs, stumbling through the shattered window, into the ballroom. He reached for an arrow but hesitated.
Hanak Tuvar screamed, pressing its tentacles down on the ground, raising the mass of its round body high into the air. With limbs fully extended, it stood nearly twenty-feet tall, but it didn’t advance.
Something changed.
The air around the creature took on a ruddy haze. It was hard to tell in the darkness of night, but she was sure that the lamplight that reflected off its oily body was wrong. Redder, somehow. Like what happened at the pyramid, Desa realized. On the day that it infected Adele’s body.
If Miri noticed the change, she didn’t seem to care. She cocked the hammer of her pistol, raised the weapon and fired with a CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The bullets melted when they crossed into the halo of redness that surrounded Hanak Tuvar, collapsing into puddles of liquid metal that landed in the grass. The grass! It was crumbling to ash beneath the creature.
“All right,” Desa said. “Let’s try something stronger.”
She made a fist and thrust it toward the demon, releasing a stream of lightning from the ring on her middle finger, lightning that vanished when it touched the red halo. She increased the flow, draining much of her Electric-Source’s stored energy.
It had no effect.
The lightning didn’t even touch Hanak Tuvar.
The creature rose up, thrusting its face toward them, its circular mouth expanding with a frenzied howl. The inner cheeks vibrated. Desa knew, in that moment, that she was looking upon death itself.
Slinking toward her on twelve slimy tentacles, Hanak Tuvar bobbed up and down. The halo expanded before it, grass withering under its touch.
“Let’s go!” Miri shouted.
“We can’t!” Desa yelled, stumbling back into the mansion. “We have to kill it here! Before it gets out to the city!”
A flash of light appeared at the edge of the patio, solidifying into a crystalline figure who stood with her arms spread wide and her head thrown back. Mercy’s scream echoed through the night.
A cylinder of radiance formed around Hanak Tuvar, stretching twenty stories into the sky. A barrier of liquid light that kept the creature contained. Black tentacles slammed against the wall of energy, pounding it over and over.
Strained, exhausted, Mercy looked over her shoulder with eyes like glowing gemstones. “Go!” she barked. “I can’t hold it forever!”
“We can help!” Desa protested.
“Go!”
Miri’s insistent hand tugged on her arm, and then she was spinning around, running through a ballroom with upended tables. Glass crunched under her boots. Tommy and Kalia were right in front of her, breathing hard.
Desa ventured one last glance into the backyard and found Mercy crouching on the patio with her hands stretched toward the glowing prison she had erected. The goddess was losing strength. Like a man trying to hold up a ceiling that had collapsed onto him. So, Desa did the only thing she could do.
She ran.
The four of them charged through the foyer and burst onto the front lawn. That poor, brown horse was still tied to his carriage, but remarkably, he was calm. Midnight had settled him down.
Drawing her belt knife, Desa snarled and walked up to the frightened animal. “Hold still,” she said and cut the straps that held him.
The horse tried to bolt, but a nicker from Midnight stilled him. He stood tall, waiting for direction, glancing back to the mansion. The column of light was a spear that stabbed the night sky.
Shutting her eyes as a shiver went through her, Desa took control of herself. “Miri, Tommy,” she said. “The two of you are heaviest. You’ll ride Midnight. Kalia, you and I will take the other.”
Kalia threw her hands up in irritation. “He’s spooked,” she said. “We can’t ride him.”
“He won’t rear.”
“How do you know?”
Rounding on the other woman, Desa jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing at Midnight. “Because,” she said. “I trust my partner. And we don’t have time to debate this. Let’s go!”
Tommy climbed into Midnight’s saddle, and Miri settled in behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Desa removed the brown horse’s harness so that she and Kalia could do the same. The animal had no saddle, but now wasn’t the time to be picky.
Together, they took off across the lawn, heading for the wall. That left her with another conundrum. Midnight had been trained to work with Field Binders. He would gladly leap over ten feet of stone, trusting her Gravity-Sink to carry him safely to the other side. But the other horse – Desa decided to call him Champ for want of a better name – would never obey a command to charge toward a wall.
Tommy seemed to anticipate her need, urging Midnight toward the metal gate. He pulled an arrow from his quiver, nocked it and let it fly.
A blast of kinetic energy tore the gate right off of its hinges, metal bars landing in the street with a dreadful cacophony. Midnight galloped through the opening, and Champ followed. They turned left, heading north along a cobblestone road.
Glancing back over his shoulder, Tommy hissed air through his teeth. “We have to find the others!” he insisted. “We can’t leave them!”
“Lead on!”
Guiding Midnight with his thighs, he turned right onto a street that ran eastward to the heart of the city. The same street where Desa and Azra had clashed only ten minutes ago. Townhouses flew by on either side of her. She searched for any sign that Azra might have lingered, but the woman was long gone.
Kalia squeezed Desa tight, nuzzling the back of her coat. “Whatever happens,” she breathed. “I want you to know that I love you!”
Even in the midst of all that chaos, Desa chuckled, an irresistible smile blooming on her face. “I love
you too.”
Any warmth she might have felt was killed by Hanak Tuvar’s incessant screams. The creature was still hammering away at its prison, enraged by Mercy’s interference. She could hear the blows even from this distance. Would Mercy be able to finish it off? The goddess had been confident that she could handle Adele, but somehow, Desa suspected that the situation had changed.
People stood in the street, having been drawn out by the earthquake. They stared, dumbfounded, at the glowing tower.
“Run!” Desa screamed. “Leave the city!”
No one listened.
A beam of pure, white light shot into the stratosphere, eliciting gasps from the people who stood in the street. Dalen felt his hands trembling. His fear was like a blade stabbing him through the heart. Was this Adele’s doing? Had she been the source of those terrible shrieks?
Mrs. Carmichael stumbled up beside him, slapping a hand over her gaping mouth. “May the Almighty protect us!”
Shooting a glance over his shoulder, Dalen narrowed his eyes. “Still want to stay here?” he asked. “Or are you ready to leave?”
The poor woman started sobbing, falling to her knees in the middle of the road. “What is it?” she blubbered. “What?”
Dalen wanted to yell at her, but that would do no good. These people were terrified. He had to calm them down and get them focused on an orderly evacuation. He did not know what was going on out there, but he was certain that New Beloran was no longer safe. No, he wasn’t Miri or Tommy or Marcus, but of all the people here, he had the most experience with this kind of thing.
When he turned, he found over a dozen people standing in the street. Slack-jawed fools who couldn’t stop staring at that pillar of light. Whatever it was. More had come out since the earthquake.
Dalen strode toward them, pointing a finger at the man who had almost assaulted him earlier. “You!” he said. “Gerald! Go with Mrs. Carmichael! Get food!”
The man blinked and then turned his attention to Dalen. “Go flay yourself, boy,” he spat. “I won’t be taking orders from-”
Stuffing his fear down into the pit of his stomach, Dalen stepped up to the big brute and grabbed a handful of his shirt. He pulled Gerald close, close enough to smell his foul breath. “This isn’t a debate,” he said through gritted teeth. “You want to survive? You do what I tell you.”
