Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series, page 43
The door was open, gouges in the front panels testifying to the violence with which it had been forced. There was no chattering now as they walked more slowly, peering into room after room, each of which revealed broken pieces of metal and wires scattered across the floors. They eventually reached the furthest end of the Survivors’ quarters leading up to the Ring Complex and Tika stopped. Hezwa regarded her anxiously.
‘That is all there is Lady.’
‘No.’ Tika turned back and strode along the strangely lit passage. She halted at a doorway as if reluctant to go in.
The others had followed and now clustered round Tika. She moved slowly into the room, stepping over thick ropes of metal and crunching switches and buttons underfoot. She placed one hand on the nearest box and shivered. Before, it had felt unlike stone, warm to the touch: now it was icy. She traced a line near the top of the box and drew a deep breath.
‘Can someone help me move this?’
One of the Wendlan Mages was beside her nearly as quickly as Sket. Tika glared as Sket put his bandaged hand on the box and he glared back. There was room for most of them to stand around the large construct.
‘This is a lid I think. Maybe we can slide it off between us. It probably opened by means of Survivor magic, like the ramp in the Dome. Push that way.’ Tika, at one of the shorter sides, pointed the way she meant.
At first there was no movement. Then an Imperial Blossom gently moved Tika and took her place, Gan next to him. They heaved again and there was a loud sucking noise. The lid slid rather too rapidly towards the further end. When the men had lowered the surprisingly heavy piece to the floor, they peered within the box. It seemed three quarters full of a totally black, viscous fluid. When Shiro extended a cautious finger, Tika warned him away.
‘I have no idea what it is Keeper Shiro, but I think it is definitely wiser to be safe than sorry with any of the Survivors’ things.’
‘Sefri might know,’ Maressa suggested.
Tika met her gaze. ‘She might. If anyone is in contact with Hiramo or Oniko in Wendla, they should ask. But until we know, we don’t touch.’
‘What are these things?’ Edo had turned to examine the second box.
Ren frowned, recalling Kertiss’s explanations of some of the things he seemed so proud of. ‘Kertiss called it a – a regeneration tank.’ His brow cleared then darkened again. ‘He said he could grow new life – arms and legs. He told us that he and Orla spent time inside these “tanks” to keep themselves always healthy and young.’
His words were received in a queasy silence. Tika moved to the second box.
‘Let’s get this over with,’ she said grimly.
Again the lid was at first reluctant to move, then there was the sucking noise and the lid slid smoothly away. The stench that arose was overpoweringly awful and there was a rush for the corridor. Tika stayed where she was, hand clapped over her nose and mouth, Sket the same at her side. The bloated, naked and disintegrating corpse stared sightlessly back at them. She caught Sket’s arm and walked unsteadily to join the others still gasping in the passage. She swallowed back her nausea.
‘Well, now we know where Kertiss is.’
Shiro wiped perspiration from his forehead. ‘I’ll get this area thoroughly cleansed Lady.’
‘Not until we know what that liquid is,’ Tika corrected him. ‘Better to seal this room until you’re sure it’s safe to touch that stuff.’
They made their way quite rapidly to the junction of tunnels leading to the Ring Complex, all more than relieved to leave that gruesome discovery behind them. Hezwa led them straight up to a door which accessed the Sanctuary and everyone stood for a time, gulping clean air into their shocked bodies.
‘We’ll rest for a while, then we must travel on at nightfall,’ Tika told Hezwa.
The Wendlan Mages and their guardian Blossoms had already vanished into the Ring Complex. Now the companions began to walk across to where the Dragons reclined, basking in heat even after two days in a desert. Tika hung back a moment.
‘I wondered, Keeper Hezwa, if you know anything of the places Between?’ she asked. She could almost see the Keeper’s mind racing through her archives, sorting references.
‘I think I’ve heard of them. I will search for you. I’m sure I have heard of them – a passing comment in a text perhaps. I’ll look at once.’
‘Thank you, I’d appreciate it. But we must leave as soon as the sun sets.’
Hezwa hurried away in the direction of the Dome of Knowledge but Shiro remained with Tika, his expression deeply concerned.
‘I have only heard tales of the places Between – years ago when I was an insignificant student. They were referred to as places of darkest terror and although we all believed them to be stories told just to frighten the wits from us, there was something about them that was truly frightening.’
Tika merely nodded and mind spoke Maressa. She smiled up at Keeper Shiro.
‘May we go to the Dome of Assembly? We have to check something – please come with us.’
She saw Maressa emerge from their rooms across the Sanctuary and began to walk with Shiro towards the Domes. She nearly fell over Akomi and stooped to lift him, scolding him gently. Maressa caught up with them at the arched entrance and they followed Shiro inside. The tiered seats rose around them but the great circle on the floor was what drew Maressa and Tika’s attention. Shiro watched as the two women moved slowly round the black edge of the circle. Maressa closed her eyes and Shiro was startled by the sudden surge of power. She let her breath out in a gusty sigh.
‘It hasn’t been used for far longer than any other I’ve seen,’ she said. ‘And it is uncontaminated.’
Tika smiled with relief. ‘We will go to our rooms, Keeper Shiro, but if you and Keeper Hezwa would meet us here again shortly before sunset, we will show you what your circle does.’
The companions managed to sleep through the middle of the day, dozing rather than sleeping deeply. Maressa had obtained paper and she had written to both Lady Emla and to Grand Harbour Master Chevra. She rolled the papers and tied them with thread, ready to send through the circle. When students arrived with food as the heat of the day began to cool, there was little talk. No one knew how Orla might have changed; affected as it seemed likely she was, by the influence of Qwah.
Tika noticed Khosa was quiet again, staying close to Ren, whereas Akomi was busily begging choice titbits from everyone’s plates. When he was given something he retreated, every time, to crouch by Tika to eat his prize. It was with a certain reluctance that they put their packs outside and walked across the Sanctuary. Brin stayed where he was but Farn paced steadily behind Tika and Storm followed him.
They found Hezwa and Shiro waiting just inside the Dome of Assembly. Maressa explained the functions of the circles, as far as they were understood now at least. Tika stopped listening at that point, her thoughts veering off to follow the idea Maressa had suggested. Who had made the circles? Every one she’d seen had been a work of art: beautiful patterns laid out in different coloured stones, many of those stones valuable and rare. Yet only Thryssa, and Rhaki she corrected herself, had known the circles could move people and objects across incredible distances. Maressa was shown how to use the circles by Thryssa: apparently only the High Speakers of Vagrantia had retained the information, passing it on to their successors alone.
But Tika had a strong feeling the circles predated the Vagrantian, or Valsheban civilisations. The circles still functioned. Who, or what, could build such a thing that would endure through time as they had? She brought her attention back to the Dome. Maressa had placed one of the rolled parchments on the dark green square in the centre of the circle and moved back to stand outside the black edging tiles. She spoke the words of the chant and Tika frowned.
She had heard the chant many times, but always softly murmured. Now she heard Maressa saying words she could not understand. What language was she using? Did she even know the meaning of the words she spoke? There was a soft pop and the parchment vanished. Shiro and Hezwa gasped in astonishment. Maressa placed the second parchment on the central stone and repeated the words. She sat on the first row of benches and began to explain how the messages, or people, could be directed to different circles. She gave the Keepers the words for the circles in Harbour City, Gaharn and Vagrantia, and made them repeat the words over and over.
Again, Tika realised she hadn’t known each circle was called into use through a changed word within the chant. And how did Maressa know the different words? She guessed it was somehow revealed when Maressa first approached a new circle – she always stood outside it, eyes closed as though in mind contact with someone. In contact with the circle itself? But there was a soft sound, followed almost at once by another and two scrolls lay on the green square. Maressa went to fetch them, unrolling them and reading them quickly before passing them to the Keepers.
‘I have shown you how to use the circle to send messages,’ Maressa told them. ‘One of you could send a person through but I have not shown you how to move yourselves through. That is more involved and I haven’t the time to explain. We will show you when we return.’
Her eyes met Tika’s and Tika knew Maressa had very serious doubts that they would in fact come back to this City hidden in the middle of the desert. Maressa scribbled a few words on the bottom of one of the parchments and gave it to Hezwa. The Keeper’s trepidation was plain to see as she returned the scroll to the centre of the circle. She drew a deep breath and recited the words Maressa had used. There was a mixed expression on her face when the parchment disappeared: part delight, part apprehension. Maressa stood up.
‘I asked Administrator Fenelon in Harbour City to send back to prove you reached her. It will not take long I’m sure. But we must leave. Stars bless you Keeper Hezwa, Keeper Shiro.’
They were rising above the Domes within moments of returning to Brin, and none of them looked back. It was a shorter distance to the northern edge of the desert – as Navan had judged from his map. Evening of the second day saw them landing on scrubby hills. Rough grasses grew in scattered patches but no other vegetation had managed to root in the poor soil. Behind them to the west rose ranges of the high mountains through which they’d travelled when they left the coast.
The sky was clear, the wind blowing from the east, strong enough to flatten the grass. Northwards were endless flat lands, broken only by occasional low hills. The companions set up their usual camp as dusk fell and stars began to appear.
‘Is something wrong?’ asked Maressa.
Heads turned towards Jakri to whom Maressa had addressed her question. He held out his arm and the gold bracelet, given him by Emperor Kasheen, glinted in the firelight.
‘I’ve told you how it shrank to fit my wrist as soon as I put it on. It keeps loosening and tightening now, and it feels warm all the time.’
Tika stepped over Gan’s long legs to squat beside the Wendlan. She examined the bracelet with her eyes, her fingers, and her mind. There was no sign of any join: it was as though made in one piece to fit Jakri’s wrist. She touched her pendant. Since her burning she had worn it round her neck still but within its leather pouch, in the faint hope of some protection should it heat again. Tika shook her head.
‘There is something about it but it is beyond my ability to see exactly how it has been charged.’
‘Charged?’ Ren sounded alarmed.
Tika shrugged. ‘Something works within the metal but what it is or what it does I cannot see.’
Navan tossed a thin strip of leather across the fire to land on Jakri’s lap. ‘Next time it loosens, slip that beneath it.’
Tika gave him an approving grin.
‘Can you sense Orla ahead of us yet?’ Gan’s question sobered Tika at once.
‘She is closer than I expected her to be,’ Maressa replied. ‘She should be leagues further north, given the length of time since she left the City.’
‘Why would she hang about?’ Sket asked. ‘Is she expecting our company?’
Brin rattled his wings. ‘I have sensed a change in the air.’ His mind tone was uncertain. ‘It is like the way the air altered around Valesh, but not quite the same, nor so definite.’
Maressa sighed. ‘There is a patch that I cannot see inside when I look north.’
‘Like the cloud around Vorna’s estates?’
Maressa kept her expression neutral although her heart ached at Tika’s question. She knew that of them all, Tika would again bear the brunt of whatever faced them, and she also knew how afraid she was.
‘Something like that,’ she agreed calmly. ‘Less dense.’
No one felt much like talking after that. Tika wrapped her blanket around her, Akomi draped over her shoulder, and leaned against Farn.
‘I will be with you this time, my Tika.’
She opened her eyes to see Farn had angled his head down close to hers. ‘Brin told me, when you and Sket were lost, that I could survive without you.’ The large prismed eyes reflected dizzy patterns of stars. ‘I would not wish to though. So we will stay together.’
Tika stretched to press her palm along Farn’s cheek. ‘We will stay together,’ she repeated.
‘Me too,’ a sleepy voice agreed.
Farn inspected Akomi and huffed softly but said no more.
Brin called a warning before midday. Below, they saw a dark shape, motionless on the plain. The Dragons spiralled lower until they could see it was one of the desert horses. Only small patches of its white hide were visible, the rest was the dark reddish brown of drying and dried blood. They landed at a distance and Jakri, Navan and Gan approached. They walked round the carcass touching nothing, then rejoined the others. Gan stared back at the dead animal.
‘Something killed it, and its rider.’
‘There is a person there?’ Maressa asked in horror.
Gan nodded. ‘Half under the horse. The animal seems to have been turned inside out but the man was intact. Definitely dead but right way out.’
Ren swallowed, holding Khosa tight against his chest. ‘Orla?’ he asked.
Gan thought for a moment. ‘No. I cannot imagine any weapon being able to do such a thing.’
‘But why?’ Maressa whispered.
Tika turned away to remount Farn. ‘Why not? Valesh would have thought it fun; I see no reason not to think Qwah would have the same sense of humour.’
When they camped that night Khosa mind spoke Tika for the first time for several days.
‘You must assume Grek is no more,’ she said. ‘I have tried and tried to reach Namolos but I cannot. I tried when we were by Vorna’s estates, nearer his island I thought. But I get no response.’ Khosa’s mind tone was ineffably sad.
Tika propped herself on her elbow and studied the small orange cat sitting beside her.
‘Who are you Khosa?’ she asked.
Khosa turned her head, turquoise eyes glittering even in the darkness. ‘Akomi told you I was old. Silly old cat. It is true though. I am very old. I have been Khosa through many generations.’
‘Like Grek, in Hargon’s bloodline?’ Tika asked carefully.
‘Something like that, yes.’
‘Who is Khosa?’
‘Khosa was once upon a time Lemora.’ Khosa sounded wistful but she turned away without saying more and picked her way daintily round the dying fire to curl against Ren.
Namolos’s body lay in his bed at the top of the airy spacious house on the cliffs. Students came and went, turning the body, rubbing oils into the flaccid skin, brushing the white hair. They murmured to each other occasionally, but their eyes turned constantly to the body of their Captain. Sea birds screamed, their raucous laughter drifting through the open windows together with the scent of the flowers from the gardens below and the strong smell of brine from the sea.
Several floors below, the sea swished softly at the mouth of a shallow cave. Two hundred paces inside the cave lay the Ship, Star Dancer. A woman sat in the pilot’s chair in the front of the Ship.
‘Abesh, he has been gone too long.’ Dancer’s melodious voice was filled with anxiety.
‘I know.’ The woman spoke soothingly. She knew Dancer understood how worried she was but it was important to her to try to stay outwardly calm, to believe Namolos would return safely.
A qualified Captain in her own right, Abesh had gone on board Star Dancer with her two tiny daughters the morning of the uprising on their home world. Her husband had long anticipated such an event and had insisted that very morning that Abesh take the children to the dock. As always, the children had been delighted to visit Dancer and Dancer had been as happy, telling them riddles and nonsense tales when the sirens began. Namolos arrived in a breathless rush and Dancer surged from her mooring, racing into the star fields followed by dozens of other bio Ships. The girls grew while Dancer travelled through both space and time. When they reached Kel-Harat, they both showed a strong desire to involve themselves in the troubles besetting this world.
When Dancer landed here, crippled in her flight systems beyond hope of repair, she and the family hoped they had found safety and security. For two hundred years they established themselves; sharing their lives with the people on this island, teaching them and learning from them. When Namolos discovered the extent of the disease that was insidiously maturing, he had determined to do all he could to fight it. All four of his family had enhanced mental capabilities: he and Abesh had early agreed that minds were of greater importance than technology.
The girls, apprised of the situation Kel-Harat faced as predicted by their father, took their own decisions and followed them through. Dancer had spoken of the girls frequently in these last days when either Abesh or a senior disciple, Elka, of whom Dancer was especially fond, had sat with her. Attuned to her Captain as she was, Dancer knew he was weakening. She could only guess that his mind had been trapped far away in this world he had come to love so deeply.
