The Rifts of Psyche

by Kyle West

  No, not red. Orange. Lucian’s skin went cold.

  “Die, you rotting, batty bastards!” he yowled.

  He laughed manically as his hands became molten and balled into fists.

  “Run!” someone shouted.

  There was no time to think. After exchanging a look with Serah, Lucian bounded after the rest of the frays. They leapt over rocks, across crevices, climbed cliffs. Lucian chanced a look back to see the old man wreathed in an aura of orange. And that aura was expanding outward. The screams of dying gloombats sent chills down his spine. They were falling in droves.

  The very air seemed to change, warming and . . . tightening. There wasn’t a better way to conceive of it. It was as if all energy were being drawn toward that man, being focused into that orange aura, which was glowing brighter and brighter. And then, there was a sudden, blinding flash, followed by a couple of seconds of silence.

  And then a rumble and an explosion so loud and fierce that it knocked Lucian flat on his stomach. A wave of heat blasted over him, only alleviated by a Thermal shield someone had hastily thrown up. Lucian didn’t know how long that blast lasted, but at least half a minute. By the time it had passed over, the tinge of ozone hung in the air. The caverns were dark once again, and there were no more bat screeches. The following silence was uncanny and unlike anything Lucian had ever experienced.

  “He . . . got them all,” Serah said.

  “What was that?” Lucian asked.

  She shook her head. “An atomic blast. And a rotting strong one at that.”

  “I’m glad he’s on our side,” Cleon said.

  Fergus approached them. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Where did you guys come from?” Lucian asked.

  “There’ll be time for that later,” Fergus said. “We need to clear this area unless you want to deal with radiation poisoning. We need to head to Sanctuary. It’s the frays’ town. We can explain everything once we’re inside.”

  31

  Sanctuary was located inside a narrow canyon, the top covered thickly with interwoven thatch while a large wooden gate reinforced the entrance. When those gates were pulled back and Lucian entered, it revealed a long, communal space with plenty of burning spherical flames, all floating with Gravitonic Magic. Those fires illumined this island of light in a sea of darkness. Hollow faces stared as they entered. Women, children, old ones.

  To Lucian, their mottled skin and pale complexions made them seem half-dead. He felt guilty for thinking that, and he hoped his shock wasn’t reflected on his face. He wasn’t sure whether to be afraid, revolted, or to feel pity. He kept hold of his Focus, to better ignore those feelings. These people couldn’t help who they were, and it felt shameful to be afraid of them.

  All were inside the gate in seconds, which was soon shut to the darkness. Lucian held back his sigh of relief.

  “Where’s the other one?” Cleon asked, his voice booming. “The Atomicist.”

  The milling frays gave Cleon death glares, as if he had committed some unforgiveable faux pas. Which made sense – in this place of dark and quiet, sound could attract predators.

  “Pipe down, Cleon,” Fergus said. “Remember what Elder Osric told us last night?”

  “Ah, that was his name,” Cleon said, only marginally quieter.

  “He’ll be back soon,” a middle-aged fray said, with brown hair that fell to his broad shoulders. His chest was mottled and gray. “In fact, here he is now.”

  As good as the man’s word, the gate was opened, admitting the balding man who walked with a stooped stature. Only when the gate was hastily shut did Lucian feel at least somewhat safe. As far as he could tell, there was no way into this canyon except through this gate and another gate at the canyon’s far end, which was about a hundred meters away.

  The old man – who had to be Elder Osric – approached the four of them. His form was thin and haggard, and his pale, cadaverous skin was loose on his bones. His wild, white hair was bald at the top, but fell long and stringy over his eyes.

  “This is who I almost died for?” he said, his voice rattling.

  “Elder Osric, this is Lucian,” Fergus said. “He’s the one we’re taking to find the Orb.”

  Lucian looked at Fergus in shock. He had told him?

  “That eel has already been cooked,” Osric said, seeing Lucian’s reaction. “Your friends told me you could explain everything. It’s the only reason I saved your rotting lives.”

  This Osric already knew they were going after the Orb of Psionics. Did that mean he knew about the Orb of Binding as well? Did he know everything?

  The brown-haired man was still standing beside them. Lucian could now see a good half of his skin was mottled with the fraying. It made Lucian uneasy, but so far, it didn’t seem as if anyone here was mad from it.

  “Cyan, my boy,” Elder Osric said. “You come with us. We have things to discuss.”

  Everyone made their way to a floating fire sphere in the center of the camp, around which some large, rounded stones had been gathered. Osric motioned them to sit with him. He and the one he had called Cyan watched Lucian like wyverns eyeing their next meal. Cyan cracked his knuckles. Those thick forearms looked as if they could break bones.

  Osric cleared his throat. “Your friends told me some story about how you’re after the Orb of Psionics. After hearing that, I was expecting someone a little more impressive than a yellow-bellied, milk-drinking Earther.” His gaze took in Serah. “And his girlfriend.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend.”

  “Really? Pity for him, then.” Osric’s light blue eyes noted her arm. “I see you’re just starting to fray. We have a home for you here if you want it. You seem handy in a fight.”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” His eyes went back to Lucian. “So, what brings you here? Why do you think you’ll be the one to find the Orb after all these years? My other son died trying to track it down ten years back, like half this rotting moon.”

  Both frays watched Lucian closely. And he could sense others in the community watching from a distance.

  “It’s the only way to stop the Sorceress-Queen,” he said.

  “Bat’s shit,” he said. “The Sorceress-Queen isn’t your war. It’s them two’s.” He nodded at Fergus and Cleon, who shifted in their seats. “I want to know why you want to find it. If you don’t tell me, then you’re on your own to find Slave’s Run.”

  That was the reason Fergus and Cleon had revealed their mission. That, and Osric likely wouldn’t have saved he and Serah otherwise.

  “Because I have no choice. If I don’t find it, along with all the other Orbs, then whatever destroyed the Builders will destroy us, too.”

  Osric watched him with arched eyebrows. For a moment, he seemed too stunned to speak.

  “I have to say,” he said, “that’s not what I expected to come out of your mouth. But when you get old like me, you learn to separate truth from lies. I don’t think you’re lying, young man. I just want an explanation.”

  “You don’t have to tell him anything, Lucian,” Serah said.

  “Yeah, he does, honey,” Osric said. “Your friends already told me they want to find Slave’s Run. Well, you’re not getting there unless I can show you the way, trust me.”

  “We had no choice, Lucian,” Fergus said. “They refused to help unless we told them.”

  “And they promised to make this worth my while,” Osric growled. “That means all four of you are back out on your asses if I don’t like your answers, or your general attitude.”

  “Well,” Serah said, “you’ve got us there, then.”

  Osric nodded. “As long as we understand each other.” He looked at Lucian. “And why are you the hero, the one who wants to find the Orb? Why not Fergus, or Cleon for that matter?”

  Telling the full truth would be risky. He was surrounded by frayed mages who could turn hostile at a single word from their leader. If he told them he already had the Orb of Bind
ing, the man could kill him and take it for himself. But something told Lucian he wasn’t going to find out where Slave’s Run was without telling the truth. Some of it, anyway.

  “Serah,” Lucian said. “Do you know where we are?”

  She let out a frustrated sigh. “No idea.”

  “You’ll die down here without our guidance,” Osric said. “Just like the enclaves up above, you have to earn your keep. And you can only do that by regaling me with a good story, and one that makes sense.”

  “All right, then,” Lucian said. “But what I tell you can’t go beyond this group. It could ruin everything.”

  “I’ll make that call, young man,” Osric said. “Now, out with it.”

  Lucian heaved a sigh. This man was frustrating to the extreme.

  “I hope you’re a good man, Osric,” Lucian said. “Because I’m about to give you the keys to the universe.”

  Osric’s eyes widened slightly at that, while Fergus, Cleon, and Serah stared at him in shock.

  “Well,” Osric said, “it’s safe to say you have my interest.”

  Lucian told him about the Orb of Binding – how he’d found it, who had given it to him, and why it was his mission to find all the Orbs – including the Orb of Psionics. To his surprise, no one interrupted his story. Osric listened, completely rapt, along with Cyan.

  The telling took so long that Osric had to signal for food to be brought half an hour in. Lucian ate gratefully, some sort of roasted meat that he hoped wasn’t gloombat. It was stringy and greasy, and its taste bland. But Lucian wasn’t about to refuse Osric’s hospitality.

  Once he’d finished revealing his intention to find all the Orbs and end the Starsea Cycle, Osric shook his head and whistled.

  “I asked for the truth, and what I got is something that’s so far-fetched that not even a Burner could have come up with it.”

  “It is the truth,” Serah said. “I’ve seen him use the Orb. Just now, he split this huge pillar of rock as if it were nothing and sent the rock shards flying into the bats.”

  “I have also seen his magic,” Fergus said. “I doubted at first, but he has time and again proven that he can wield an amount of Binding Magic that would fray any other mage.”

  Cleon nodded his agreement.

  “I see,” Osric said, stroking his scrabbly chin. “I was going to say I believed him, despite the extreme nature of the story, but I digress. We in Sanctuary believe in the Orbs. Some of our mages have even sought out the Orb of Psionics, like my aforementioned fool son. The words of the Prophecy spread like wildfire here a few decades back. Or like a virus if you prefer. But the Burning Sands are so vast, so dangerous, that finding it is a virtual impossibility. It’s not my business, though, if you mean to find it.” He eyed Lucian shrewdly. “You did well to tell me the truth. I’ll help you. At least, in my own way.”

  Lucian’s eyes widened. “Help us? How?”

  “I can lead you to Slave’s Run. Personally. It’ll take you a couple of weeks to get to the Mountains of Madness, and the monsters on the way will make that gloombat infestation look like nothing.”

  “That’s our road,” Serah said. “Unless there’s another.”

  “If there’s another way, Osric, you must tell us.” Fergus said.

  “Oh, I’ll lead you down there all right. There’s something like a moving floor, that only I know the location of. You stand on them, stream a little magic, and they’ll go down.”

  “I’ve used such a thing,” Serah said. “In my own way down to the Moon Sea several years ago.”

  “There are many in the Darkrift,” Osric said. “It’s likely you found the one close to Snake Rift. Here, we are beyond the Blue Rift.”

  “They’re called elevators,” Lucian said. “Or lifts, if you prefer.”

  Osric’s brows scrunched. “Elevators. I like that name. They are truly magical devices, an invention of this long-dead race that we simply couldn’t conceive of until you see them.”

  Lucian didn’t bother to correct him about the history of elevators. “So, one is nearby?”

  “Why would there be elevators down here?” Fergus asked. “Who built them?”

  “I imagine the same ones who built the City of Ancients,” Osric said. “What does it matter? This moving floor – err, elevator – is not a waking’s walk from here.”

  Lucian was confused at his wording for a moment, until he realized there was no day and night down here. A “waking” must have been the amount of time one could walk in a day, judged by how long a human naturally stayed awake.

  “You must lead us to this elevator,” Fergus said.

  “Why’s it always must with you, Captain Fergus?” Elder Osric asked. “I do what I damn well please. Lucky for you, I will lead you there. There have been reports of the Queen’s soldiers in the Darkrift, too.” He arched a bushy eyebrow. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with you, would it?”

  Everyone looked at each other, but to Lucian, there was no point in lying about it. “She’s after the same thing we are.”

  “There’s more to it,” Osric said, his eyes shrewd and insightful. “Out with it.”

  “She also knows I have the Orb of Binding. I don’t know how, but she does.”

  “I see.” Osric frowned. “Well, that does make things more dangerous.”

  “Father,” Cyan said, “you cannot risk yourself with these . . . outsiders. Allow me to take them to the moving floor.”

  He held up a hand. “Peace, Cyan. I know the Darkrift better than anyone. And in case something happens to me, I’ll need you to lead the village.”

  “Father, you’re exhausted. After that atomic blast—”

  “Exhausted?” Osric laughed. “Boy, I’ve only just started. You’re here to learn, not to rule. Only when I’m dead, and let’s pray that doesn’t happen soon. I have big plans for the village, and if you don’t get ahead of yourself, my boy, you’ll live to see them.”

  Cyan did not seem happy to be silenced, but he didn’t argue.

  “Now,” Osric said, “see that their canteens are filled. We can do at least that much before we set out.”

  Cyan, glowering, went off without a word and started barking orders at some of the frays of the community.

  “Get some sleep,” Osric said. “Sleep is necessary to regenerate your magic. Something in my bones tells me we’ll need all we can get.”

  32

  Lucian couldn’t sleep a wink. All he could think about was the Queen’s soldiers edging closer and closer. And the closer they were, the harder it would be for Fergus to mask their presence. And was there any point to warding themselves when there was an entire community of mages down here? The Radiant hunters would be drawn here like sharks to blood.

  Lucian only succeeded in a light doze before being shaken awake by Fergus.

  “It’s time.”

  Within minutes, the four of them, plus Elder Osric, were packed up and standing by the opposite gate from where they had come in. When Osric’s sharp blue eyes met his, Lucian felt a strange sense of foreboding. It seemed there was something the old man wasn’t telling them, but Lucian couldn’t have said what. He could only be on his guard. The path forward was going to be more dangerous than even Osric had let on, of that Lucian was sure.

  Cyan arrived next, his arms folded with a grim expression on his face.

  “Stop with that long face,” Osric said. “I’ll be back soon. Hear me?”

  Despite his harsh demeanor, Cyan embraced his father. “You’re stubborn as hell, Pa. I just hope it doesn’t get you killed one day.”

  “This is for our survival,” Osric said. “A chance at a better life. Wouldn’t you like to see the sun more than once a fortnight? Wouldn’t you like to wake up every day to feel its gentle rays on your face? This is the only way that can happen. The moving floor is only a day’s walk from here. If I can’t survive that, then I don’t deserve to be the Elder of Sanctuary.”

  “Good men have died out there,” Cyan
said. “Left in search of the Orb and never to return. Don’t be one of them.”

  Osric nodded. “I don’t intend on dying. Keep the fires warm and bright for me.”

  “What do we do if the Darans come? How will we defend against them without you?”

  The old man gave a plucky smile. “If they want to fight, lose them in the darkness and let the gloombats have them.”

  Cyan nodded. “Will do. I don’t like the idea of them trashing our community and taking our things . . . but if that’s what you want, I’ll see it done.”

  “We can rebuild our larders,” Osric said. “But we can’t rebuild lives.” He turned to Lucian. “You sure you’re up to this?”

  Lucian wasn’t sure in the least, but he made himself nod all the same. “I’m ready.”

  “All right, then.” Osric nodded to the guard by the gate. “Open up.”

  The gate rolled back. The darkness beyond the small pool of light was absolute. Lucian didn’t want to go into that, but there was no choice.

  This was the only way forward.

  As they walked into the darkness, Lucian couldn’t get his doubts about the Orb of Binding out of his head. Doubts the Sorceress-Queen had sown.

  He had to own it. Didn’t he already own it? Didn’t the Oracle of Binding entrust the Orb to him? And if so, why wasn’t it obeying him?

  There was only one answer that made sense to Lucian – the Orb was losing faith in him. That thought alone was terrifying. Was the Orb of Binding trying to sabotage him? And if so, how could he stop it?

  Lucian had no answers as the path angled deeper underground, crossing streams and snaking down cliffs until there was no path at all, just a rocky landscape cloaked in darkness.

  “Nearly there,” Osric said. “Just down this canyon, and—”

  At that moment, a blinding light flashed at the top of the canyon. Lucian’s heart kicked into overdrive as he reached for his Focus.