The Light of All That Falls, page 19
Despite himself, Davian couldn’t help but shuffle back as the dar’gaithin approached, its scales scratching menacingly against the shining steel floor.
The creature came to a halt in front of Davian. It stood at least nine feet tall, but it contorted itself, leaning down menacingly until its face was level with Davian’s. It could have been the same one from his vision, or not—they all seemed to be virtually identical in appearance.
“Follow,” it hissed.
It slithered away as the black chains holding Davian suddenly vanished.
Davian didn’t move; even knowing that the creature in his vision had talked, he still found it unsettling to hear one of the Banes speak.
“You had best do as Theshesseth says,” said Rethgar, jerking his head after the black-scaled creature. There was a vicious satisfaction in his eyes. “You don’t want to get on his bad side, after all. You’re about to be spending a lot of time with him.”
Davian glanced back at the dar’gaithin. So that was the creature he would eventually kill. Good to know.
“What do you mean?” he asked as he started walking, keeping his pensiveness from his tone.
Rethgar’s smirk widened. “You’ll see.”
He refused to respond to questions after that, clearly enjoying Davian’s discomfort. They walked in silence, Davian calculating desperately as they reached a set of stairs and descended. He knew he couldn’t escape; the aftereffect of the black chains was just as it had been before, and he was completely unable to touch kan. He could try to run—if he couldn’t die, why not at least make the attempt?—but as if reading his thoughts, Rethgar shook his head warningly.
“Not worth it, Davian. Not down here,” he murmured.
Davian gave their surroundings an uneasy glance. Rethgar’s tone was solemn, and there was something off about this place, even if Davian couldn’t put his finger on exactly what.
For now, at least, he would see where this was going.
After a few minutes, Davian frowned. The steel beneath his feet was beginning to vibrate, barely noticeably at first, but the quivering seemed to increase in intensity as they walked. Each step soon felt as though it were sending tiny shocks through his feet, and a low, uncomfortable buzzing began to press on his ears. The walls and ceiling around them were clearly affected, too; to Davian’s eyes they gradually began to blur with constant, furious motion.
He wanted to ask what was happening but Rethgar didn’t appear fazed, and Davian knew that he wouldn’t get an answer out of the unsettling man, so he kept quiet.
It didn’t take long after that for them to arrive at the room housing the portal.
The plates all around them were vibrating frantically now, a blur of steel, blue energy crackling and snapping furiously as if struggling to hold the individual pieces in place. The portal itself just hung in the center of it all, silent and menacing, a hole in the air that led to… nothing. Davian squinted, at first thinking that it must be dark on the other side, but there was nothing at all. Just… black.
Theshesseth glanced back at Rethgar and Davian, reptilian eyes glinting, then slithered through.
Davian swallowed as Rethgar pushed him closer. “Is it supposed to look like that?” he asked apprehensively.
“Not really,” said Rethgar.
He shoved Davian firmly through the hole.
The thrum of the buzzing steel plates vanished; there was pain, something tearing at him—not just his body but his mind as well, pulling, clawing, grasping, raking at him from all directions. A flash of an unsettlingly familiar river of gray, though this time he was apart, somehow above it rather than within.
And then he was stumbling out the other side of the portal, and into madness.
Chapter 10
A dull-red crescent moon burned low in the cloudless sky, light seeping through the foliage overhead and barely illuminating Davian’s surroundings as he burst through the other side of the portal.
He stumbled to a stop, gaping at the disquieting sight of the shadowy forest’s black and crimson tints before spinning, trying to get his bearings. The hole through which he’d just been pushed was no longer there.
In its place stood a towering, twisting wall of gray void.
Davian’s stunned gaze traveled slowly upward. The barrier stretched impossibly high, curving inward slightly so that it loomed over him; the farther up he looked the more translucent the gray became until finally it vanished, revealing the stark black of the night sky beyond. Stars shone up there, but the points of light didn’t twinkle and glimmer as they should. Their light was cold. Dead.
Bewildered, he followed the line of gray to the right, and then the left.
There was no end to it that he could see.
That gray river raging through the wall looked all too familiar, though. And the journey here had been… not the same as when he had been caught in the rift in Deilannis, but similar. Too similar to be coincidence.
He pushed up his left sleeve. No Mark, the circle encapsulating the man, woman, and child vanished. Just clean skin once again.
The question, then, was no longer just where he had been sent.
It was when.
He recovered himself enough to force motion into his legs, stumbling to the nearest tree and pressing himself flat against the enormous trunk, doing his best to still his breathing as he finally remembered the dar’gaithin that had preceded him. Theshesseth would surely be looking for him.
There was nothing, though—no sign of the creature, or anything else living for that matter. Everything was still.
He waited for a few more seconds and then exhaled, staring around at his new surroundings dazedly. He was in some sort of forest—a very old one, judging from the enormity of the trees; the trunks were as wide as ten men standing shoulder to shoulder, and he couldn’t even estimate how high some of them stretched. Moss covered many of the trunks, and vines hung everywhere, thin black silhouettes that added to the raw menace that exuded from every red-tinged shadow.
He quickly spotted where the gray wall curved around through the trees, far away to both his left and right—presumably unbroken, though the thick-leafed foliage hid much of it. It looked as though it was some sort of encircling barrier.
Which meant that at least for now, there was only one clear way forward.
He kept his back pressed against the rough, dry bark of the tree, gathering his thoughts. After a year of almost complete isolation and routine, the events of the past day had hit him hard, shaken him, even prepared as he had been for something to happen.
After a while his pulse slowed and his breathing steadied. Whatever this place was, he needed more information. If it was a prison, then where were the guards? Where was Theshesseth?
He started walking, the red light of the moon filtering through the branches above as he struck out in the only direction that wasn’t obviously toward the wall. The air here was hot and dry, each breath feeling as if it took just a little more effort than it should. No moisture beaded on the foliage around him, the leaves papery dry to the touch and twigs cracking beneath his feet. There was an unnatural stillness, too—no chirping of birds or buzzing of insects. Just silence.
He reached for kan automatically, thinking to extend his senses out, spot any danger before he simply stumbled upon it. Based on his previous experiences, the effect of the black chains should almost have worn off now.
He stuttered to a stop.
There was no pain when he cleared his mind, no resistance when he searched for the shadowy power.
But there was also nothing there.
He closed his eyes, concentrating this time, brow furrowing. Even while unable to use it, he’d always been able to sense kan.
After a moment, his anxious tension loosened a fraction. It was there.
Just… different.
He frowned, examining the energy now, trying to determine what felt wrong about it. The process of grasping kan was always tricky, but this… this was as if it was further away, somehow. Distant.
He reached for it.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, more urgently this time, stretching. Again he failed. He knew immediately that this was different from when he’d first been learning under Malshash, or the added difficulty of handling kan within Talan Gol. It wasn’t slippery, wasn’t difficult to manage.
He simply couldn’t reach it. Couldn’t touch it at all.
He shivered, a surge of panic threatening to overwhelm him as he realized that he wasn’t drawing Essence from his surroundings anymore. Even his most instinctual use of kan was gone.
Heart in his throat, he checked his Reserve.
Still almost full.
He released a shaky breath. That was… interesting. A relief, but still—even more confusing. If he really had just traveled through time, then any Essence within his body should have been ripped away.
For now, though, the reason it hadn’t didn’t matter. The Reserve was as large as he’d been able to make it, and he had taken a good amount of Essence during his conversation with Gassandrid. It should last him months, if he was careful.
And he wasn’t going to die here. Reminding himself of that eased his nerves somewhat, even if it couldn’t completely dispel his reflexive anxiety at not being able to draw Essence. It was like swimming through a tunnel underwater—knowing that he would eventually surface made holding his breath bearable, but the need to breathe felt no less urgent.
Davian pressed on, more tentatively than before, experimenting cautiously as he went. He tapped his Reserve the way one of the Gifted would, breathing out in relief as a tiny ball of light appeared up ahead. He’d had very little practice using Essence without kan, though he knew the theory as well as anyone after his studies in Caladel. Manipulating Essence like this felt messy, wasteful. Compared to the efficiency of funneling it through kan, it was like requiring an entire river just to wash his hands.
Still—if he needed to defend or heal himself, he could, even if doing so would deplete his finite supply. He let the Essence-light dissipate—he could see well enough by the red moon’s eerie illumination—and kept moving.
He had been making his way methodically through the tangle of vines dangling from thick, low-hanging branches for less than five minutes when he caught the flicker of movement up ahead. He slid carefully into the shadowed concealment of a nearby tree.
The red-rimmed silhouette of a serpentine head materialized beyond the foliage in his path a moment later and Davian held his breath, careful not to move. Another figure quickly appeared behind the dar’gaithin, the outline similar to a man’s but too tall and thin, looming over even the Bane. Its movements seemed… off. Jerky. Like those of a marionette in the hands of an unskilled puppeteer.
A second humanoid figure appeared, slightly shorter than the first. Then a third. All were outlined against the sharp red light of the moon, features doused in black shadow.
The group didn’t appear to notice or be looking for him; they moved along together, silent, heads occasionally swiveling to the sides but not with any particular purpose. Before long they were lost again behind the thick-trunked trees.
Davian vacillated, trying to decide if he should follow. The risks were obvious, but he had no idea where he was, or about the situation here. He had no food, no water, no shelter.
He glanced up at the towering gray wall curving around in the distance to either side. His choices of direction remained limited for now, anyway.
Best not to take any more risks than were necessary at this point.
He angled off away from where the dar’gaithin and its companions had disappeared, keeping an eye in that direction in case they doubled back for some reason. The forest pressed close as he walked; he kept his bearings by occasionally checking the walls to the right and left, ensuring that he wasn’t straying closer to one or the other. After a few minutes he noticed that the trees were beginning to thin, and within one more he had reached the edge of the forest.
He stuttered to a halt at the tree line, staring blankly. He was at the top of a gentle rise, which overlooked the beginnings of what appeared to be a massive city.
One in ruins, though. Silent. Dead.
Davian frowned, brow creasing as he took in the mass of buildings, sandstone structures illuminated deep red or shadowed pitch-black in the disconcerting moonlight. This was unlike any city he had ever seen: there were no streets to speak of at all, and no apparent order to the mélange of stairs, tunnels, and snaking pathways that wound their way up to, around, and over the buildings. Worse, half of the structures he could see had collapsed, the facades of many buildings completely gone. Everywhere he looked there were deep shadows in narrow alleyways that seemed to simply end, while others branched out in confusing, haphazard directions, no apparent pattern to their layout.
He stayed there for another few minutes, watching carefully for any sign of movement. Clouds of dust occasionally appeared, tinged red in the light, but they appeared to be from the slight, dry breeze rather than having been stirred up by something else. Otherwise, everything was still.
Davian eventually stood, brushing off his clothes. He hadn’t spotted anything to be concerned about, and there might be supplies that he could recover from the debris. A weapon, even.
He hurried down the slight incline and scrambled over the first pile of rubble, which he realized must have once been a low wall surrounding the city. His footsteps crunched on loose rock as he reached the outer area, the sound muted, swallowed by the heavy shadows.
Davian’s disquiet intensified as he drew nearer to the close-set, looming structures. Charred spots were now visible on the sides of some, where walls had seemingly been blown apart.
Davian couldn’t help but wonder if those marks had been made by Essence. Some sort of battle?
He peered into the inky shadows of the ruins as he passed, trying to spot anything that might be of use to him. There was nothing, though. It was as if these places had all been stripped, picked clean.
He chose to follow the perimeter for a few minutes rather than attempt to navigate the maze itself, moving cautiously, muscles tensed and ready to react to any sign of movement. There seemed to be no end to the buildings, and many of them were tall—almost towers. This city had to have housed tens of thousands of people. Maybe more.
So where had they all gone?
Finally he steeled himself and turned down one of the alleyways that led inward, away from what he felt was the comparative safety of the open air. The buildings that menaced him on either side looked to be as empty as the ones on the outer edge, though. The alley quickly narrowed to an impassable crack, so he took a nearby stairwell, following it up and then through several quick, sharp twists. The high buildings on all sides made the process confusing, and it was only the glow of the red moon that allowed Davian to keep his sense of direction. Oddly, though some time had passed, neither the crescent nor the dead stars around it seemed to have shifted across the sky at all.
He emerged onto a pathway, still elevated. The way ahead was wide—almost a street—but felt narrower thanks to a series of crumbling buildings that rose several stories high on either side, forming a sort of unnatural canyon.
He was so focused on looking inside each of those structures that for the first few seconds, he didn’t even notice the bodies.
He froze as the first figure caught the corner of his eye, hanging limply as it was from the second story of a building he was passing. He didn’t move for a long moment, then forced his gaze upward.
A chill ran down his spine.
Illuminated starkly in the red moonlight was the lifeless form of a dar’gaithin, a black outline against the red-tinted wall. A single, thin spear of jagged rock protruded from its mouth and pinned it firmly to the stone behind.
Davian’s heart began to pound as his gaze traveled to the next body, a little higher on the building.
And then the next. And the next.
He took a step back, breath shortening to nervous gasps as he finally grasped what he was seeing. Every building along this way had dar’gaithin corpses pinned to its facade, hanging motionless in the eerie light.
A hundred at least. Maybe more.
He forced himself to calm, assessing. The bodies were broken, many necks at odd angles, the serpentine figures mangled as if they had been smashed by some massive, unseen force. There was no particular arrangement to the bodies: they seemed to have been pinned to the buildings as a means of killing them, rather than as some sort of sick display.
Still.
He considered retreating, then shook his head firmly to himself and pressed forward, searching for a body hanging relatively close to the ground. The rough spears pinning the dar’gaithin were the closest things to weapons that he’d seen; if the stone spikes were good enough to kill the creatures, it was worth having one with him.
He soon spotted what he was looking for, the corpse’s tail dangling almost within reach. He hurried over, swallowing his nerves as he slipped into the heavy darkness of the building’s shadow.
A closer look at the creature made him flinch. It looked as if it had died in terrible pain, the thin stone fixing it to the wall having somehow speared beneath its scales and through its throat. The massive wound there suggested that the dar’gaithin had thrashed around long after the blow that had ultimately killed it.
Davian hesitated, then carefully tapped his Reserve, sending out a thin tendril of Essence and trying to wrap it around the sliver of stone. The black blood that slicked its surface seemed to act almost like the Banes’ scales, though; without the fine control of kan to help, his thread simply slid off the spear without gaining purchase.
He scowled silently, then used more Essence to strengthen his arms and began dragging over a large piece of rubble to stand on. He was hesitant to use even these small amounts from his Reserve, but the opportunity to obtain a physical weapon was too good to pass up.
