The Light of All That Falls, page 72
“What is this?” asked Gassandrid as he held the steel aloft, the expression on Fessi’s face one almost of distaste.
“Why don’t you activate it and find out?” Davian assessed his options as he spoke. Gassandrid was better at manipulating the plates, but he’d also be cautious of being dragged into Zvaelar. That was something Davian could use to his advantage.
Gassandrid opened his mouth to retort, and Davian attacked.
He leaped straight at Gassandrid, crashing through the Disruption shield that he’d known would be there, the wave of dizziness and nausea that accompanied it hitting him hard. His focus and pain Vessels quickly corrected the sensation, though; Davian knew that it was going to be deeply unpleasant when he turned those off again—perhaps even dangerous—but right now, he didn’t care.
He tackled Gassandrid to the ground and elbowed him hard in the face, doing everything he could to remember that the body he was attacking was no longer his friend. Gassandrid cried out in shock, no doubt stunned at both the directness and the effectiveness of the move. Disruption shields were made specifically to negate this sort of brute physical assault, and everyone who used kan knew as a rule not to bother with them.
Davian struck again, then wrenched the Vessel from Gassandrid’s hand and rolled to the side, slamming his palm into the plate below him.
Gassandrid, dazed as he was, realized what he was doing too late.
He screamed as steel crashed down on his legs, accompanied by a horrendous cracking, squelching sound. Davian leaped to his feet and backed away, heart pounding.
Gassandrid was somehow still conscious, Fessi’s face a mask of pain as her form dragged itself along the steel, bloodied stumps smearing red behind her.
“You are better… than I expected, Davian… but there is… still no escape.” Gassandrid smiled coldly through evident agony, the expression heartbreaking to see on Fessi’s face. “You cannot… help Tal’kamar now.”
Davian locked eyes with the Gassandrid proxy, then placed his hand against the wall, locating the endpoint.
“That’s not when I’m trying to do it,” he said grimly.
Gassandrid’s eyes went wide; Fessi’s hand stretched out as if to try and stop him, but it was far too late.
The plate slammed down unthinkably hard, crushing the proxy to a red smear.
Davian closed his eyes, breathing hard, pausing and allowing himself to feel now that it was over. Sharp, deep grief, though he knew Fessi had been dead for a year. Horror at what he’d just witnessed, what he’d been forced to do.
His stomach finally settled, and he steeled himself, carefully pushing the metal back over his arm. Right now, he had to focus on those he could still help.
He turned and stepped into the black portal once more.
Davian stumbled to his knees as he burst into the dull crimson light of Zvaelar, everything trembling as the ground shook and the familiar rumbling, cracking sound filled the air.
He immediately checked his arm, giving a sigh of relief as he felt the three bands there. His pain and focus Vessels had remained active, thankfully; he was still nauseous and dizzy from crashing through Gassandrid’s Disruption shield, which meant that without his Vessels, he’d probably be unable to move right now.
He sucked in a lungful of air, shaking his head for clarity. He needed to get back to the tower, get to the others. Fast.
Where was he, exactly? He scanned the shadowed, broken city stretching away in front of him, several buildings still crashing to the ground as the latest tremor proved a final stress on their foundations. The areas he had come to know well as a scavenger would have changed a lot recently, given the increasing ferocity of all these shocks. In fact, he could already tell that since he’d joined Tal and the others in the crater, the taller buildings he’d once used as landmarks must have universally fallen. That made his months-old memory of the landscape here all but irrelevant.
Except for the positioning of the Breach, that was. That still threw virulent yellow into the sky, easily spotted against the red and black of the eternal Zvaelar night.
He traced a path along it, searching for the bridge, but it appeared that too was gone now. He grimaced and gazed around, then closed his eyes. He was on a forested rise overlooking the city. North of the Breach, thankfully, judging by the position of the moon. There were a few such rises, but if this was the one he was thinking of…
There. He spotted the gap, the complete absence of buildings that marked the crater.
He activated his strength Vessel, and ran.
Tremors caused the ground to shudder every minute or so now, the city more rubble than structures as he darted and swerved his way through it, buildings and walkways collapsing around him in constant, violent motion. He avoided tunnels entirely, choosing instead to scramble and leap over piles of rubble where he could, moving as fast as he dared and still keeping one eye open for any al’goriat. There were none, though, not even any sign of them. That was strange.
He reached the edge of the crater faster than he’d dared hope, a strange, rumbling chorus greeting his ears just as he crested the short rise.
He paled as he saw the source of the sound.
For a moment Davian thought that all was lost; there were hundreds of al’goriat below—every single one snarling, pushing desperately toward the center of the crater, a thick mass of arms and legs and red-tinged teeth. They pressed hard up against the invisible barrier created by the remnants of the metal tower, which Davian finally spotted was still standing, though there was only a matter of feet between its edge and the closest of the ravening Banes.
His heart unclenched a little as he spotted the three figures pressed back against the steel, occasional flashes of Essence firing off in a vain attempt to thin the creatures. Al’goriat went down before the blasts but they were immediately replaced by others, trampling over their fellow Banes’ corpses to get just a bit closer, their eyeless gazes transfixed by the metal tower.
Davian froze, considering, the focus Vessel keeping his mind on the task at hand rather than letting it slide into panic. Could he get through? The creatures wouldn’t be able to see him, but he would still have to clear a path. Even with his strength Vessel, there were too many to simply barrel through or leap over. He had Essence, but far from enough to do anything useful with it.
“Well, I can’t die,” he muttered to himself. There was no time for anything else. No clever plan.
He fired off a quick Essence flare into the dead sky to let the others know he was coming, and then leaped down into the crater, strengthened legs absorbing the impact.
He started running.
He didn’t stop to think, concerned that if he did, he would hesitate. There simply wasn’t time for vacillating. He sprinted out into the open area and began heading for the back of the slavering, moaning crowd of al’goriat.
He swallowed as he approached, slowing despite himself. Getting by without touching them would be impossible: they were too closely packed, almost shoulder to shoulder.
He walked the last few steps and, heart in his mouth, reached out and tried to push between the first two. Their skin was damp and clammy against his hands, impossibly cold for something living. He took careful note of his position relative to the crimson moon; every single one of the creatures was taller than him by at least a head, and once he was in this crowd, there was a serious danger that he would otherwise be unable to tell if he was even heading in the right direction.
The al’goriat he touched turned their eyeless gazes down and toward him. They bared their teeth, and their snarls changed timbre into something even more aggressive and feral.
“Davian!” It was Niha’s voice, faint, but managing to pierce the chorus of growls. “If you’re out there, get down and get ready!”
Davian went to his stomach.
A moment later, an enormous crowd of al’goriat exploded outward and away from the metal dome, just to the right of where he was, blown by a tremendously powerful blast of wind.
Davian didn’t hesitate, scrambling up and sprinting with everything he had into the newly created gap, even as al’goriat began blinking into existence in front of him, filling the space in their eagerness to be close to the portal. He dodged and weaved and spun, vaguely aware of a few startled shrieks as he brushed against some of the creatures but not daring to look over his shoulder, even for a second.
Finally, he broke into the space between the tower and the al’goriat that was still clear. Ten feet, now, if that.
“Dav!” Tal staggered over to him, still providing the metal tower with Essence—just a trickle now, though—as Davian put his hands on his knees, arms shaking, gasping from both exertion and the release of tension. Niha and Raeleth were close behind him.
Davian gave them a grin as he straightened again, receiving a relieved clap on the back from Raeleth. “Thanks for the opening.”
“Thank El I saved enough for one last blast,” said Niha, adjusting the silver band on her ring finger.
“I can’t sustain even this for much longer,” said Tal bluntly, the words a grim warning to hurry. He watched with hope in his eyes as Davian removed the three steel bands from his arm. “Did you succeed?”
Davian coughed. “Not… exactly,” he admitted.
It didn’t take long for him to explain: it was far from a complex plan, after all, and Tal in particular immediately grasped the logic of what Davian was trying to achieve. Even if he seemed dazed and not entirely pleased at the prospect.
“This is madness,” he muttered, gazing at the bands as if they were hot coals he was being asked to step on. Or maybe eat. “To even build a Vessel capable of this is madness. But to change us into one of them… this truly works?”
“It does. I tested it myself. It’s safe for at least an hour.” Davian made a face despite himself. “It’s not pleasant, but it will turn you into a dar’gaithin, and turn you back again on the other side. Your mind will stay yours in between, though. Enough that you won’t get lost in the time stream like they do.” He said the last part with conviction and no one protested, though they all knew that there was no way to be sure it was truly the case.
Davian gestured to the two endpoints, pressing on quickly. “Just force these two edges together to begin the process. Then pry them apart once you’re clear on the other side. It will draw the Essence it needs from the environment.”
“What about Raeleth?” asked Niha apprehensively.
Davian shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said simply, addressing the statement to Raeleth. “The dar’gaithin form won’t be infected by Dark, but when you turn back…” He shrugged, glancing at Tal.
“Dark is specific to Zvaelar—there’s a chance that it will have no place in the real world. That the healthy time stream will simply exorcise it. But,” Tal conceded softly, “if it does not…”
Raeleth took a breath, nodding.
“If I am still infected, I will come back,” he said simply. He almost absently clasped Niha’s hand; she squeezed it and gazed at him with a mixture of anxiety and pride, but didn’t gainsay him. “I am certainly not going to stay a dar’gaithin just to survive, and I cannot risk letting this… stuff out into the real world. I won’t loose it,” he finished to Tal, the words a promise.
“But if you can find some Gifted…” Davian began.
“Where?” Raeleth said the word gently, strangely sounding like he was trying to comfort Davian. “I will still be trapped behind the ilshara, and those who can wield Essence in my time are placed in the Cyrarium. And while I have apparently started a rebellion, it’s one that I have no idea how to contact.” He looked him in the eye. “If El wishes it, I’ll be all right. And if it is my time, then it is my time.”
Davian bowed his head. It was Raeleth’s decision, and there was no time to argue.
“We only have a few more minutes. We should let these two say their good-byes,” said Tal as if reading his thoughts, putting a hand on Davian’s shoulder. “And I need to hear what’s going on in your era.”
Davian swallowed, assenting as Raeleth gave Tal a grateful look; he and Niha walked a short distance away, hand in hand. Tal settled onto the ground with his back to the crimson-lit metal dome, gazing out over the slavering al’goriat, a trickle of Essence still flowing into the massive Vessel behind him.
“So,” he said quietly. “What do I need to know?”
Davian quickly explained everything he had gleaned from his time back in the real world. Nethgalla’s revelation about the location of Licanius, the time difference, Rethgar and his death, Davian’s message to Asha. Neither of them knew whether Tal would have his memories back by the time it came to retrieving Licanius from Ilshan Gathdel Teth, but it seemed smart to arm him with as much knowledge as possible. And—as Tal had apologetically pointed out a few times—if he remembered, it could explain why he’d waited to save Davian. Knowing that he would come here, knowing that there was no point in trying to save him until after he left Zvaelar.
For his part, Tal took the news about where Licanius was being kept with resigned stoicism, though Davian couldn’t help but notice the tension in his stance, nor avoid seeing the flicker of fear in the other man’s eyes. He’d guessed that it was a possibility, clearly—and had desperately hoped against it.
Tal quickly recovered himself, though, immediately launching into a description of Shammaeloth’s sanctuary and how to get to it from Seclusion. After a few moments, Davian hurriedly activated his focus Vessel and began setting several thin lines of kan into his left arm, creating a makeshift map of the path that he would need to take. If Nethgalla was right and Tal was already in Ilshan Gathdel Teth, then this would be where he was headed—and by this stage he might also know, hopefully, that Davian would try to meet him there.
Niha and Raeleth finally broke apart just as Tal finished talking; there were tears on Raeleth’s cheeks, and even stoic Niha’s eyes glistened. Davian felt a pang in his chest as they hurried back toward him and Tal, hands still clasped. Once they left, they would be separated by two millennia.
Finally Niha reluctantly disentangled herself from Raeleth’s grasp, hugging Davian fiercely.
“You will never be forgotten,” she told him, Davian’s ribs creaking at the embrace.
Davian grinned, squeezing back. “Nor you.”
Raeleth had moved in front of Tal, and there was an odd silence as the two men stared at each other.
Then Raeleth extended his hand to Tal, clasping the other man’s firmly when he took it.
“Remember that your past does not define you—no matter the consequences,” he said gently. “Choice is meaningless without consequences, and a privilege we do not deserve if we will not face them. You are facing them, Tal’kamar. You have changed.” He hesitated. “I can speak only for myself,” he added, emotion choking his voice. “But I want you to know—because I do not believe I have ever said it out loud. I do forgive you. I will always hate what you did. But I do forgive you.” He smiled at Tal’s suddenly emotional expression. “Just remember that I am not the one whose forgiveness is important.”
Tal coughed; though he was trying to hide it, it was obvious he was moved.
“It’s important to me,” he muttered eventually, looking vaguely abashed. “More than you know.”
Raeleth smiled and nodded. Davian watched, and once again couldn’t help but admire the man’s strength. In his position, even if he had managed to accept Tal’s change of heart, Davian didn’t know if he could ever have reacted with the kind of grace that Raeleth was showing.
Raeleth turned to him, his smile sad now as another rumble—the most violent one yet—rocked the ground.
“Niha is right. You will never be forgotten,” he said softly after it had passed. “You’ve given us so much.”
“That goes both ways,” said Davian sincerely. His throat tightened with emotion. “I just wish we could have sent you both back to the same time.”
Raeleth glanced over at Niha, looking lost for words. He scrubbed away a tear.
“Nothing can ever take away the time we had here. Besides—we will see each other again,” he added. “One day.”
He turned back to Davian, grasping him on the shoulder. “And I hope we shall as well,” he said seriously. He held Davian’s gaze. “I know you are still searching, still considering—but we both know what’s coming. So don’t put those questions off for another day.” He took a deep breath. “El with you, Davian. Always.”
Davian swallowed a lump in his throat. “And you.”
Niha was finishing saying something to Tal; the two embraced, and then Niha and Raeleth were once again back in each other’s arms. Their kiss was fierce, as desperate as it was lingering.
Tal stepped forward, carefully pressing a Vessel into each of Raeleth and Niha’s hands. “It’s time.”
Raeleth and Niha looked at each other and then placed the Vessels around their necks. They carefully pushed the two points together.
Raeleth fell to the ground, shaking, a shout of pain ripping from him.
Niha watched in horror, even as she touched the two ends of the metal band together again, and again.
Nothing happened.
“No,” muttered Davian, panic rising in his chest. He’d tested these. They worked. Even now, Raeleth was sprouting black scales, his legs gradually deforming and stretching into a single, long tail.
“Take mine,” said Tal quickly, stepping forward. The woman faltered but Tal thrust the band at her; she acceded and removed the first band from around her neck, quickly replacing it with the steel she took from Tal and pressing the two points together.
Raeleth’s screams lifted above the al’goriat’s growling as his clothes began shredding away from his expanding body, but Niha still just stood there, looking bewildered and increasingly terrified.
“I tested them,” Davian said desperately.
To his side, Tal hesitated. Something flickered in his eyes, gone in a moment.
“Hold still.” He stepped forward, then placed one hand on Niha’s head, the other on her stomach, closing his eyes. Niha flinched, her face going pale.
