Earthbound, p.7
Earthbound, page 7
Emilia sat carefully in the soft cushions. “No. Thank you.”
Her mother bustled around the kitchen and prepared her tea and a light meal before returning to sit with her. Emilia picked at the food, one of her favourites from childhood, but her appetite refused to make an appearance.
Her mother grabbed her familiar bag of bright fibres and sat in an armchair across from the couch, putting the needles to work.
“How’s Father?” Emilia asked, desperate to keep her mind occupied.
“He’s busy. They have him fabricating the parts for one of the bolt throwers you designed.”
“I designed those ages ago when those deccam were in the south. They’ll be useless against these larger earthbound.”
Maven shrugged. “He’s doing what the Council tells him to.”
Emilia sniffed. “The only thing more useless than the Order is the Rikken Council.”
Her mother raised a fine eyebrow at the statement but said nothing. The needles resumed their clacking. “Do you have any other ideas?” Maven asked innocently.
She rolled her eyes at her mother’s attempt to distract her, but the question did its work and took hold in her mind. What could kill something made of moving earth?
Her eyes drifted to the rolled-up schematics in the corner that she had started with Tehran and Knox a few days ago. All earthbound were sensitive to vibrations and could detect and isolate the most minute disturbances on the surface. In theory her probes could work. But is it possible on such a large scale? She hadn’t accounted for the scope of a creature larger than their biggest buildings.
“Idea?” Her mother asked.
“I might,” she admitted. “Tehran and I talked about probes that might deter earthbound.”
“Sounds promising.”
Her mind instantly jumped to calculations. But how to power such a device? “It’s a long way off from promising but maybe, with time, it could be.”
Maven stepped into the bedroom only to reemerge a moment later carrying Emilia’s notebook and a pen.
“Thanks,” she said with a weak smile.
Maven pulled out a small flask of oil scented with lavender, rubbed it between her hands, and worked it through Emilia’s hair with her fingers before picking up a wide-toothed comb. Emilia relaxed under her mother’s touch, gentle in its familiarity. She glanced down at the paper in her lap. Her mother had often directed her to work on a problem when she felt troubled as a child. The transparent ploy had always worked. Engineering tech allowed for absolutes when life rarely did.
Her mother finished with her hair and left her to her numbers. Emilia sketched out a few ideas for emitter probes before her thoughts turned to the earth.
He’s still out there—trapped.
Emilia stood as if she could escape from the emotion filling her and returned to her room. She tossed the notebook on the bed and looked around peevishly. The pile of communication equipment she had already been twice over caught her eye. Suddenly inspired, she started carting it back out to the kitchen table.
Her mother stepped in. “What’s all of that? Let me carry it.”
Emilia reluctantly let her mother take the box from her arms, following her to the kitchen table. “Communication equipment. The diagnostics are all clean. I’m going to run some encryptions and see if I can find a usable line. We’re going to need supplies. If I can get through to Daedan, we might not need to tear apart working infrastructure.”
Her mother smiled. “If anyone can solve it, you can.” Maven’s expression turned apologetic. “I need to check on the others injured. Will you be okay on your own for a bit? I’ll send Lin up here in my place.”
Emilia glanced up, half-distracted by the wires before her. “Of course.”
Maven watched her a second longer. “You’re sure?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Her mother hummed a response she half-heard. The sound of the door clicking shut didn’t register until after she finished rebuilding the circuit she had picked up. Emilia retreated into the silence only interrupted by the occasional pop from the hearth.
Once she was sure the system was properly assembled, she powered it up and keyed a sequence into the control pad. Static crackled through the speaker much too cheerily. She scanned the open frequencies and sent out test messages. Nothing bounced back. The diagnostics continued to look clean, the system was functioning as it should, yet Rikken remained cut off. She pursed her lips in thought.
The Order sometimes used encrypted frequencies to communicate with the Overseers spread through the Outer Reaches. Frequencies, strictly speaking, that she shouldn’t know about, but Knox had never bothered to hide them from her, and she’d memorized as many as she could. A stab of pain pinched her lungs at the thought of him.
Emilia sucked in a long breath and started scanning, shifting the modulations by fractional increments. While not authorized, Emilia knew Daedan would likely be watching official encryptions as a matter of personal pride. She didn’t care if it wasn’t legal. If the two of them could find a work- around past this malfunction—all the better for the Reaches.
A tell-tale tone sounded through the speaker. Her eyes widened in surprise. They hadn’t been able to register any incoming frequencies for over a week. She put the tone through the encryption, and it began beeping in rapid sequence. Another code. She frowned. This was not one she recognized. Double coding was excessive even for the Order.
Footsteps sounded along the wooden balcony outside. Emilia instinctively flipped the channel back to static. Lin, her mother’s assistant, entered a moment later, carrying a basket full of produce and bread.
“Emilia, good to see you up,” the young woman said as she sat the basket on the counter and began unloading the items. “Would you like some tea? It can help with the cramping.”
Emilia gave her a tight smile, ignoring the constant ache in her belly and the deeper pain it echoed. “I’m fine, thank you. I think I’ll go lay down for a bit.”
Lin gave her an encouraging smile. “Good idea.”
She gathered her notepad and cleared the control panel before retreating to her room.
The encoded message tore at her. How is a singular frequency getting through while the rest of the region remains in the dark? Never mind that she had been attempting the very same thing. Buried as it had been, on an obscure channel and under layers of encryption, it spoke of something other than a natural blackout or failure. Someone on the outside knew the Reaches were in trouble and was secretly communicating.
Emilia’s gut churned uncomfortably. Everyone saw the Order through the blue of the Sky—holy and infallible. Yet the fact this message contained one of the Order’s encryptions suggested the communication was linked in some way to the Capital. Unless there were others like herself and Daedan who were capable of hacking the system and were using it for their own ends. Emilia dismissed the thought. Who other than the Order would stoop to such backhanded dealings?
She waited for Lin to leave before returning to the kitchen. The healer had left a plate of food on the table and a pot of tea warmed under a knit cozy.
Ignoring the growl of her stomach, Emilia flicked the communication equipment back on. Static fuzzed in her ears, the transmission over.
A rush of emotion squeezed her chest, and she slammed her palm onto the table, letting frustration burn. I missed it. The Order had stolen much through the years. Knox only ever half-belonged to her, always bound to the Sky first, and when he could have been hers alone, she’d lost him entirely.
If they were now manipulating the Reaches, she would bring it to light.
Primary Oath
Knox
Knox had yet to find water. Time was impossible to track and the little sleep they’d found had been fitful between Loghin’s coughing and the frequent tremors shaking the cavern. The little water from Loghin’s canteen was long gone and urgency drove him. The roof of their prison remained low, the walls frustratingly unpredictable with recesses and jutting stone pitting the surface.
“Anything yet?” Loghin called, his voice raised to carry across the growing distance between them.
“Not so much as gathered mist,” Knox said.
Loghin’s cough rattled through the dark.
“I might come back and see to your chest.”
“You won’t,” Loghin snarked. “The burning in my lungs is the only hope of release I have other than this wicked thirst.”
Knox let out a small huff of exasperation. Can the man not harbour one positive thought? His hand butted up against another outcropping. The rock came back towards him, shifting the direction of the wall dramatically.
“I found a corner. It’s not square, but it seems to turn me back in your direction.”
“And that makes you happy?”
Knox barked a short laugh. “Change of scenery, I guess.”
Loghin’s snort echoed in the chamber.
He ran his hand over the surface trying to get a picture of the new stretch of wall. “It’s different. The stone is changing. It’s smoother. Maybe a stalactite?” He paused to run his hand over the rounded area. It extended from ceiling to the floor like mineral deposits were prone to do but stopped shy of connecting itself to the ground. “It’s huge though. As wide as my body at the top.”
“Scenery,” he heard Loghin grumble.
Knox moved forward and found an equally impressive stalagmite growing up from the floor, leaving a small gap between it and the first formation large enough for him to squeeze his hand into.
His wonder turned to dread as an image began to form. He reached forward and found another pillar stretching down from the ceiling. The next again reaching up from the floor.
“By my oaths,” he breathed.
Loghin must have caught the shift in his tone. “What? What did you find?”
Keeping one hand to the row of pillars, Knox walked along the wall counting his strides.
“I’ll know in a minute.”
“You’re movin’ too fast. You could miss water,” Loghin warned, his voice elevating in pitch.
“I don’t think so.”
Fifty strides later his hand found the familiar rough stone and another strangely angled corner.
“Loghin?”
“Yes.”
The man’s voice confirmed his hunch; the line of pillars ran in a gentle crescent away from the cavern they occupied.
“I’m coming back,” he said. With his hand outstretched, he moved away from the wall and shuffled toward the sound of Loghin’s voice. His mind fought the conclusion but the picture the stone painted was too convincing.
“Earth be damned Knox, what’s going on?” Loghin demanded.
Knox leaned back against the wall with a heavy sigh. “We are in a bit more trouble than we initially thought.”
“More trouble than being buried in the earth with no way out and no water?”
Knox let out a long breath. “I think we are in the earthbound.”
“That’s not even a decent joke,” Loghin said. When Knox didn’t argue, he let out a groan. “You’re serious?”
“I think those pillars I felt are teeth.”
“Why haven’t we been swallowed?”
“I don’t know,” Knox admitted. “There are only teeth along one side. We seem to be tucked into its—cheek?”
“Like a snack for later?”
“I hope not.”
“Says a blind fool.”
The thought did not sit well. He was not finished with life, nor was he willing to sit idly, waiting for death. Unsettled groans and creaks moving through the walls suddenly took on a fresh meaning. It wasn’t the ground settling after a liquefaction, the creature was moving. How far would it go before it surfaced again?
“Would you give me a quick end?” Loghin asked, breaking the silence, his voice uncharacteristically diplomatic. “This lung may take me before starving, but I’m not sitting in this darkness waiting to be eaten.”
“I can’t.”
“Want to make me suffer, is that it? The last petty revenge of a man made small?”
“It’s not—” Knox stopped himself and sucked his cheeks before letting out a huff. “My oaths forbid it.”
A harsh laugh mocked him. “You’ve killed more men than most have had the pleasure of meeting, and you draw the line here?”
“You’re not my enemy, Loghin,” Knox said softly. “No matter what lies between us, I swore to protect all Mercurians—even you.”
“A little late to care about upholding your vows, isn’t it?” muttered Loghin. “Do you have a knife? I’ll do it myself.”
“I’m not ready to let you give up.”
“You’re not an Overseer anymore!” Loghin said, voice raised, ragged with emotion. “You don’t get to decide anything, for anyone else, ever again. You gave up that right the moment you chose yourself over the people of Rikken.”
Knox’s jaw clenched and he tried to cross his arms to keep from obliging Loghin his early death. A stab of pain radiated up the broken arm preventing the gesture, frustrating Knox more.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” Loghin taunted.
Months of frustration overflowed. “You’re right. Clearly, I’ve failed. I never understood the cost of my choice on the cluster. I gave up my power, but not my convictions. I’ve been trying to find a way to serve, a way to prove my commitment to our people and you’ve been dogging my steps, cursing my every move. You have no concept of sacrifice; of what it means to serve the Sky.”
“Pah. What is there to know? Unrivalled strength and endurance; death couldn’t touch you, all in exchange for a few measly promises and some arbitrary dietary restrictions. Poor, poor, Knox.”
Knox pushed himself up and paced along the wall, fire burning in his chest. “You prove my point, you ignorant blowhard. Oaths are power. They remake our souls. My every moment, shaped by the implacable will of the Sky. Separated from all others. Called to a solitary life, set apart from any meaningful connections by the very nature ingrained into our bones.
“But Emilia still chose me. She’s borne slight after slight on my behalf. In the Capital I was given an impossible choice, I may have chosen wrong, but I couldn’t continue to have her bear the consequences for binding herself to me—so I chose her. And the cost? I am stripped of my soul. Of the Sky herself, doubly damned.” His breath came fast, and heat filled his face. He rolled his neck trying to release the unspent energy he felt coursing through his veins. Faded, but not gone.
Loghin spat. “You walked away from all of us to spare one woman a broken heart. Emilia was warned what it meant to exchange oaths with you.”
The words hit Knox like a gut punch and all the heat left his voice. “Warned?”
“By the Council. By her own mother, if what my father said is true. Overseers don’t often marry for a reason. Who wants to live in the shadow of a deity their whole life?”
“I chose her over the Sky.”
“Too little, too late if you ask me. All you did was ensure she was ostracized all the more.”
A vision of Emilia, abandoned and alone, thinking him dead, shocked Knox into clarity. “Then I have work to do.”
“Uncut stone,” Loghin muttered.
The moment of anger highlighted one fact. Knox wasn’t helpless yet. The faulty rumours Loghin heard held one kernel of truth—he’d been left with a remnant of power. It wasn’t much. He wasn’t healing instantaneously, but he also hadn’t been killed by the crash.
A thread of heat ran through his veins. From all he’d been taught it wasn’t possible, but he also knew from extensive years of study, cases like his were rare. He’d not breached his oaths; he laid them down. Even after being disavowed he continued to uphold every assurance. Maybe the Sky hasn’t left me completely. Hope flickered to life within his chest.
He would reclaim his life and make things right, with both Emilia and the people of Rikken. With sudden confidence he stepped from the wall and strode across the cavern, listening to the sound of his footfalls on the stone. A soft, double-patterned echo warned him when he neared the pillared teeth. He reached out and found the broad, smooth surfaces.
He gripped the side of one of the floor-rooted pillars with his good arm, ignoring the shock of pain that spiked through him from both ribs and his broken arm. He tapped into the reserve of strength he’d felt flicker to life moments ago. It joined the rhythm of his own heart, adding an extra bass beat to each of his.
Tha-Thump-Bump, Tha-Thump-Bump
The pain of his fractured arm faded, and new strength fortified his own. He rocked his weight forward and back, using his whole body to push and pull against the stone pillar. Sweat gathered and poured down his face with the effort.
The stone began to move, almost imperceptibly at first, and then was soon shifting back and forth with him as the floor around it crumbled and released its hold.
The cavern shook. Dust filled Knox’s nostrils and he clenched his eyes shut. Even still he felt the grit gathering on his lashes.
“What are you doing?” Loghin called, his voice muffled. Knox guessed he had pulled some loose fabric over his face against the cloud of debris that continued to fall.
He grunted. “Getting—us—out—of—here.” Each word fell in time with a push against the rock tooth.
“You’re gonna get us killed,” Loghin shouted. His voice sounded closer.
“You’re the one who wanted to die.”
The tooth broke free of its mooring, and Knox grunted as the weight bore down, threatening to crush him. He pulled from his meagre energy reserve and let out a guttural howl as he drove the stone pillar forward until it toppled away.
The beast rumbled, and the ground shook, removing any doubt that they were in anything but the great earthbound. Knox reached out to a nearby pillar to steady himself and a hand grabbed his back as Loghin joined him. Fighting the shifting floor, Knox shrugged himself under Loghin’s arm and gripped his chest, dragging them both to the tight corner he first found. Wedged together they waited for things to still.
