Earthbound, p.35
Earthbound, page 35
“Only the earthbound can move the earth like this,” Emilia whispered to Tehran. “What are we waiting for?”
Tehran edged closer to her but didn’t look panicked. He watched the earth move around them with narrowed eyes.
“Look,” he pointed at the boundary of the liquefaction. Emilia schooled her emotions and followed his line of sight. Unlike the chaos caused by the monstrous earthbound that had attacked Rikken, this liquefaction was different. It was not moving in organic, fluidic lines but instead within the straight-lined bounds of a large rectangle. As they watched, the boundary lines began to drop and the whole craft was lowered into a perfectly symmetrical impression in the ground. Hadin and Marel readied themselves to jump, tipped long poles at their sides.
A section of earth in front of them fell away, revealing a tunnel running beneath the barricade. The liquefaction moved no further than to level itself with the tunnel and stopped.
Emilia couldn’t believe what she had witnessed. This sort of technology was unheard of. Scientists and engineers had spent veritable lifetimes trying to learn the secret of how earthbound creatures changed solid matter to behave as a fluid. Someone, it seemed, had cracked the code and was putting on a masterclass on applications.
“This shouldn’t be possible, should it?” Tehran asked.
She shook her head.
Venier signalled Konr to drive forward. She looked calm, but Emilia didn’t miss the tension in the older woman’s jaw. The tunnel was not long, and the light ahead called them forward.
Emilia felt herself tense, holding her breath. People of the Sky did not enter the earth. Not willingly, she thought, images of Knox that day on the field setting her heart racing.
A sloped ramp led from the tunnel, and they all blinked, eyes readjusting, as they moved back out under the open sky. She let out a shuddering breath and looked around.
They were in a foreign world. Domed structures filled the clear-cut area, and impressive looking hovercraft ringed the camp with high powered probes extended into the ground.
“Tumultian raiders,” Venier said, stunned.
“A group this large? I don’t like this,” Hadin said.
Emilia squeezed Tehran’s hand. Being surrounded by the enemy was hardly a satisfying way to be proven right. Venier’s expression turned hard as Konr navigated through the camp towards the largest of the domed structures.
“What are those?” Tehran asked, pointing towards the heavy craft at the boundaries.
Emilia looked closer. Thick probes were pressed into the earth, almost up to their hilt under each vehicle. The ground around each craft was fluid, though the probes were unlikely to be responsible for the change. There had been no visible probes when they came under the barricade. This crackling blue energy obviously served some other purpose.
Venier glanced towards Emilia. “Any ideas, dear?”
“All I can think is to keep the earthbound out,” she guessed.
“You had a similar plan in Rikken; could they have used your schematics?” Tehran asked, his eyes never leaving the crackling line of vehicles.
“No. This is refined technology. I never figured out how to power them on this sort of scale. Not to mention we were going to dig the probes into the ground. I don’t know how they are creating liquefactions.”
“Observe as much as you can,” Venier said, strain obvious in her voice. “If we cannot broker a deal here, we may need to engineer similar tech.”
“Yes, Elder.”
The craft came to a halt before the largest of the domed tents. Rows of armed Tumultians stood on parade with a formidable woman standing front and centre before them.
“These are not just clan raiders,” breathed Tehran. “It’s a full, skuttling army!”
“The communication blackouts,” Emilia said. “They’ve been jamming us.”
Tehran eyes darkened. “A quiet invasion.”
“Sky help us,” Marel whispered and shared a look with Hadin. He muttered a curse, not taking his eyes from the lines of troops.
“No instigating any violence,” Venier instructed, tendons in her neck taut. “But be ready. Tumultians are as changing as the land they hail from.”
A shiver ran through Emilia. Elder Venier, too, was clearly unsettled. The Overseers shifted and gripped weapons tighter but otherwise stood firm. Bless their endless hours of training.
Konr powered down their craft and the Tumultian leader stepped forward. “Welcome, Elder Venier and Overseers,” she greeted. The calculating way she sized each of them up emphasised they were expected and known. Her eyes lingered over Tehran, her lip twisting up into a sneer-like smile.
Konr helped Venier from the hovercraft. “Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” the Elder asked, clearly irritated by the Tumultian’s casual leveraging of their identities.
“Tensa Quinmarq, First Commander of the Tumultian Force.”
Marel and Hadin shifted, expressions hard, watching Tehran to see if they were to be loosed. Even Konr, the youngest of the team, glanced Tehran’s way, unsure. They were in the heart of an enemy camp and ready. Tehran held up a hand. Hold.
Venier dipped her head in a restrained nod of respect. “Commander Quinmarq.”
“If you follow me,” the Commander said, gesturing to the large tent. “I have been given authority to speak on behalf of Lord General Sarche.” She cast a quick glance over the rest of the small group.
“If one of your Overseers prefers to stay here with your craft, they will remain unharassed.”
Venier nodded at Konr. His face dropped at the prospect of being left behind, but Tehran squeezed his shoulder as he passed him. “Stay alert. If they move against you in the slightest way, unleash the Sky.”
He perked up at the words and gave Tehran the fisted salute. He pulled his long pole free and adopted a grim expression as he moved to the head of the craft, on guard with eyes forward.
The Commander led the group into the largest of the domed tents. Emilia had expected one large, cavernous type of room, but instead it felt as if she was walking into a home. Large, yes, with the high ceiling, but warm with fabric, rugs, and numerous heavy-looking screens dividing the space. Many of them were painted with impressively detailed murals adding to the bright, colourful nature of the room.
Long tables filled with fresh fruits and prepared foods were arranged in what looked like a central gathering hall. Soldiers were posted along the exterior walls, but others moved through the room or stood talking in small groups. All stilled as they entered.
The Commander gestured at the food and the lounging area. “Overseers, make yourself comfortable. I assure you the food is suitable for your needs.” She smirked at their surprised expressions. “We are well prepared for holding your kind.”
“Is that a threat?” Tehran growled, edging closer to Elder Venier.
The sentries with the Commander flinched at Tehran’s movements and put hands to odd weapons at their hips. They looked like the bolt-throwing weapons she had seen in Rikken. Tapered, handled devices that released bolts of energy when wielded correctly. These, though, had thicker handles than she had seen before, and the gathering filaments were braided into intricate knots at the tip. It was no small leap to guess these weapons would pack a much more serious punch.
She swallowed the anxiety climbing her throat at Tehran’s bluff. He had no power to back up his bravado.
Commander Quinmarq’s eyes narrowed, and a thin smile stretched her lips. “My apologies. Of course not holding, Overseer. I misspoke: hosting. We are here to negotiate a treaty, not start a war.”
Emilia stopped mid-stride. She turned to Tehran and found his shock mirroring her own. Marel’s long pole came up, and Hadin dropped his stance, ready to attack.
Tehran reacted similarly, with clenched fists and body primed, ready to strike. Venier stepped in front of him. She looked at their team one by one, eyes hard and full of unspoken meaning, until each of them relaxed. The Overseers returned to watchful postures. Tehran caught Emilia’s eye and gave her a reassuring look. The gesture felt woefully impotent considering what was unfolding. Treaty with the Tumultians? While not always at odds, they were peoples of different matter.
“Lead on, Commander,” Venier said.
The Commander lifted a golden eyebrow at Venier but then nodded slowly and pointed to a screened-off room. “Right in here, Elder.”
Tehran moved to follow, Emilia a step behind. Two Tumultian guards intercepted them, shifting their bodies to block the path.
“We go where the Elder goes,” he said, his voice low and obviously restrained.
Marel and Hadin shifted to flank Tehran with similar expressions. Emilia felt as if she stood in the eye of a storm, fury all around her.
The Commander spoke a soft order to her men, and they lowered their hands from the weapons at their sides. “These are peaceful talks, and guards are not needed. Particularly not divinely-gifted ones.”
Venier pursed her lips. “You want me to give up my protection while you have guards filling this space?”
The Commander gave a long-suffering sigh. “One of your Overseers could decimate my entire camp. Do not feign weakness, Elder. Negotiations would go smoother if neither of us were under threat of death.”
“Would you allow guards who were not Overseers?” Tehran spoke up. Emilia’s heart squeezed, anticipating where this was going.
Commander Quinmarq made a show of considering the request. “It would delay talks to bring others over from your caravan.”
Venier did not look particularly eager at the suggestion either.
“There won’t be a delay,” Tehran said, with an all too casual air. “Our specialist and I are not Overseers. We’d be happy to serve as witnesses.”
The Commander’s expression darkened.
Venier spun on Emilia and Tehran, stunned. Emilia couldn’t help but inwardly exult in the Elder’s moment of shock and bit back a huff of amusement at Tehran’s impish smirk. Venier turned back to the Commander, expression still blank.
Quinmarq tipped her chin in a silent command to one the sentries. He turned and left his post only to return a few moments later holding a silver rod the length of his forearm. It had a brushed steel finish, but beyond that, Emilia could see nothing of interest about the rod.
He handed it to Tehran with a poorly-disguised grin and returned to his post. The Commander watched Tehran closely for the span of several heartbeats before her mouth twitched into a frown. “Interesting,” she looked at Emilia. “Now the woman.”
Emilia reached out and took the baton, keeping her face as calm as she could manage. The weight surprised her as Tehran released it into her grip. The metal was cool to the touch and free from any markings. She tested the balance in her hand and found it was slightly heavier at one end. Internal workings, but for what purpose?
The Commander pursed her rosy lips, clearly surprised, and considered Emilia and Tehran. “Would one of your other Overseers mind holding the rod for me?”
Hadin reached for the rod and Emilia instinctively tried to pull the device out of his reach. He was too fast, and he pulled the metal from her grip before she had time to react.
Almost instantly blue energy crackled from the rod and coursed up Hadin’s arms. He convulsed and dropped the offending piece of metal. Tehran stepped to his side, helping him to his feet. Hadin blinked, dazed.
Tehran’s expression turned to pure fury and Emilia held back a shudder. If he had his strength, the Commander would have no doubt paid for the move with her life. “What in the depths was that?” he snarled.
Quinmarq gave a shrug of mock sincerity. “We have fashioned the device to help us detect those who have a bond with the Sky.”
A muscle twitched in Tehran’s cheek, and he glared daggers at the Commander. “To attack one of the Sky is to invite death.”
The Commander let out an exaggerated huff. “A drastic measure to be sure, but can you blame us? We cannot take the word of those who have already betrayed us.”
“Perhaps we can attend to matters rather than posturing?” Venier interjected.
“Of course, Elder,” the Commander purred, gesturing towards the curtained door.
Venier turned to Hadin and Marel, fresh colour filling her cheeks before entering the room. “Watch closely. If you are acted upon, level the camp. Leave no one alive.”
The two bowed their heads and brought fists to their chests. Emilia filed into the room behind the Elder. Sentries dropped the heavy curtain behind them, closing off the panel-built room.
“Good to see you still have fire left in you Elder,” Quinmarq said, sitting in one of the low seats arranged in a semicircle. “Or I would wonder why we are not demanding the whole of the Mercurial.”
“The Mercurial would never bow to a roving people such as yours,” Tehran spat, choosing to stay standing. Venier sat and beckoned Emilia next to her.
The Commander stiffened, eyes flashing to Venier. “I suggest you tell your witnesses to watch their tongues among their betters or they will lose them.”
Venier’s eyes narrowed, her chin raised defiantly. “Says the trespasser on our lands. What right have you to demand such respect?”
Emilia swallowed a swell of pride at the small woman’s refusal to be cowed.
A wicked smile curved the woman’s lips. “I forgot you were unaware. These lands are now under the control of the Lord General Sarche, divinely appointed leader of the Tumultian clans. This meeting is to broker peace and settle the Mercurial’s account.”
Collapse
Knox
Knox stirred at Maven’s voice. She helped him back to the corner and together they slumped against the wall, breathing heavily at the simple exertion.
If possible, Maven looked to be in worse shape than he was. Her dark skin couldn’t hide the deep bruises mottling her face, misshapen and swollen. Her lips were split, and dried blood cracked as a smile lifted her mouth. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
Her relief in the statement twisted at his heart. She tried to focus on his face, but he could see the effort it took.
He sidled closer to her. “Lie still.”
“What have they done to you?” she asked.
“No more than they have to you,” he deflected.
She tried to speak, but a wet cough interrupted her efforts. She collapsed back, trying to catch her breath, flecks of fresh blood colouring her lips. Ignoring his own pain, Knox pushed himself up to sitting.
“Lift your head,” he instructed. He gathered some rags from the floor for her to lean against. The manacles activated at the exertion and light flashed through his vision as he gritted his teeth. The taste of blood filled his mouth, and his body twitched under the current.
The manacles went dead, and he sucked in a desperate breath, fighting to clear his head.
“Oh, Sky,” Maven gasped. Tears welled as she gripped his arm.
“Were you shocked?” he groaned.
She ignored his question. “This is how they are controlling you.”
It was a statement that needed no response. He carefully propped himself back against the wall, making sure he didn’t pull on his strength. Maven slumped back next to him as another cough rolled through her. Her breathing didn’t sound right.
“I’m sorry, Maven. I should have expected the Commander to follow me to Rikken.”
She blew a raspberry through swollen lips. “None of this is on you.” She hesitated. “Kipp?”
“She’s safe—for now.” He hoped with every fibre of his being it was true. He didn’t voice his fears.
Maven sighed heavily, her breath rattling. “Sky look after our—sweet child,” she said, pausing between words to catch her breath. “You need to—hear something. You are—connected to the Sky.” Another cough shook her, and she gasped for breath. Her lungs rattled and wheezed.
Knox tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but he couldn’t dislodge it. He was helpless in the face of her suffering, and that was more unbearable than electricity coursing through him. He shushed her. “It’s okay. Rest. I know.”
Her voice took on a desperate tone as she fought for each breath. “No—you don’t.”
He frowned, confused.
“The Sky has no bounds—she cannot be emptied—cannot be drained. You are one—with—her.” The only sound was her laboured breathing. “They cannot—take you—from her.”
Is she delirious? He’d never heard her talk of the Sky in such a way. He understood his bond to the Sky. His every moment as an Overseer had taught him to harness and understand the gift shared with him. Cannot be drained, her words echoed. Cannot be emptied.
Isn’t that what’s happening, though? It was as if every time he had to heal himself, there was less to pull from. The slow draining of his gift. A door being incrementally closed on his connection. When he’d laid aside his vows, his power had been taken, but his connection to the Sky always remained.
Whatever the Tumultians were doing felt like they were slowly flaying both the strength and the bond from his very soul.
“I don’t know how,” he finally whispered. The admission spilled from him with cold certainty. “But they are slowly tearing me from the Sky. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”
Maven didn’t answer. As he listened to each of her reluctant breaths, he drifted into his own fitful sleep. When she spoke, it jarred him awake.
“You don’t need—to hold her. She is—holding—you.” Heartbeats passed. “Holding—us.”
Maven slumped back against him, unconscious.
Knox spent the next hours counting her breaths. Each rise and fall infused him with courage. Here in the dark, beaten and alone, she was fighting. She’d found courage, and he must do the same.
◆◆◆
He awoke to rough hands pulling him up and away from Maven. He struggled until the manacles released several courses of energy, leaving his world spinning. His guards wore thick leather gloves this time, keeping them from sharing his torment.
As he was dragged away, he strained to catch sight of Maven’s huddled form in the corner. Her chest rose and fell in rhythm. The door closed.
