A Fistful of Dust (18 page)

“Go!” Folkard shouted. Nathaniel didn’t need telling or to guess from which way the scream had come. Notch overtook him and went to the left. He followed, putting his hands out to either side to prevent being thrown into the walls as the ground shook again. This time there was a distant
boom
. As much as he found it unbelievable, Nathaniel easily identified the sound. An explosion.

6.

COUGHING AND GROANING
, Annabelle rolled onto her side. Bracing her hands under her, she prised her upper body from the ground. Blinking in the cloud of dust, she tried to look around but her eyes were watering and she was as good as blind. She coughed some more, and despite not being able to see, she moved onto her hands and knees feeling about in the gloom. As she did so from deep in the moon, she heard a sound that seemed to resonate right through her.

“Oh no!” Her words were a prayer. Her first thought was of the others, and secondly of the Chaldrites. She didn’t want them hurt. She’d been through this before with the Selenites. She’d lost K’chuk. She didn’t want to lose Notch.

“What
was
that?”

The voice was male and above her. Another voice rang out, shouting down. “Annabelle? Are you well?”

“Yes, Henry. I believe so.” She coughed some more, but the fine particles were beginning to settle.

“We’ll be right down. Don’t move.” The man at once set about her rescue, climbing down. Another
bang
sounded from deep in the moon, throwing her to the side, making her gasp. At the same time, she heard a sound like a baby’s rattle. Could she stand to face another threat?

A dark shape pressed against her hands. A Chaldrite? She didn’t expect to feel a break in the shell, and only realised she had been feeling for it when her fingers encountered the uneven edge. “Notch?”

“Annabelle?”

“Nathaniel?”

He appeared out of the swirling dirt, Corporal Whitlock just behind him. Nathaniel touched her face, smoothed back her hair. He stared into her eyes as if memorising what she looked like. When his hands began a further exploration, Annabelle didn’t know whether to laugh or gasp in surprise. He was checking her for injuries.

“I think I’m all right, Nathaniel, but thank you for the concern. I’m just…a mess.”

“No more than I.”

“I…” She gave up. “I want to compliment you but I won’t argue with you on that score. I’d like to say I’ve never been so glad to see you, but I’m sure there have been other times when I was equally pleased, and there will be many more. Where’s Folkard?”

“He…” Nathaniel looked behind him, frowning. “He and Arnaud were right behind me.”

“Arnaud?”

“We rescued him earlier. We’ve been on quite a little adventure. Crystal cities, sound machines, gigantic moles.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, except for the mole. I’ve seen it, Nathaniel. They lowered us into this…abyss. Oh, I’m sure Arnaud told you. The mole broke through. It’s why we were able to get free.”

He glanced back the way he had come again. “Either it’s a coincidence or Folkard was indeed able to commune with it. I’ll explain when there’s more time,” he said, probably seeing what had to be a perplexed look on her face.

He looked over her shoulder. “We can’t go that way.”

She turned, seeing that when the ground gave out from under her much of the path ahead had fallen into the tunnel blocking the way. “Can we scramble up and continue on in the tunnel above?”

Whitlock already appeared to be assessing that problem. He glanced at her and then tried. The rocks started to shift. He shook his head. “We might make it up but we’ll be lucky to do so without injury.”

“We don’t want that,” Nathaniel said. “Maybe Folkard has found another way through.”

Annabelle knew he wouldn’t leave her side, and yet he was undoubtedly thinking of Arnaud. “You go ahead. We’ll follow.” He looked at her but she ignored him. “Help me up,” she ordered, and as he did, she said: “You go check. If we can’t get through that way you can return and we will not have progressed too far.” Despite her logic, she could see he wasn’t completely fooled. “Go find him, Nathaniel. Watch over him.” He would know she didn’t mean Folkard.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Or we’ll catch up. All of us will. But…be careful.” She didn’t like sending him away from her alone, but Notch didn’t seem inclined to leave her.

“I’ll scout ahead with you,” Henry volunteered. He gestured with his injured arm as if to say he wasn’t much good for anything else. Annabelle nodded in gratitude.

7.

ARNAUD HAD HESITATED
between following Nathaniel or Folkard. Heart versus duty. He wasn’t exactly surprised the professor chose duty and thought more of him for it rather than less. He felt equally torn, but Folkard and a beam of light pulled him in the other direction. He’d see that Folkard was safe then turn around and check on his
toujours
.

The sight before him made Arnaud forget his decision long enough for Nathaniel to retrace his steps to Arnaud’s side, by which time it was all the doctor could do not to hug him. The British and their decorum! Arnaud could barely contain his excitement, but a stranger accompanied the professor and Arnaud supposed he should show a little restraint. He gave the man a nod, but the newcomer was too lost in staring at the crystal city. Arnaud grabbed Nathaniel by the forearms, spun him around, pointing.

“What do you see?”

Nathaniel looked down, his eyes going wide.

“
Non
. Not down there.” Down was a vertical shaft leading to the base of the monolith. “Look across.”

Nathaniel obeyed, for several seconds, perhaps almost a minute. “A ring of…standing stones? Mini monoliths?”

Arnaud chuckled. “Mini monoliths. I like that. But yes.” The stones were at equal distance in a circle in the surrounding walls.

“How many?”

“It is difficult to say. I estimate around thirty. Rings such as this… there has been some study. Very specific, individual, yet contrasting resonances can be picked up in such arenas of stone.”

“Like an amphitheatre?”

“Precisely. Sound made near the edge reflected as echoes from nearby stones.”

“And from the centre, the stage, it would blanket the audience. One could play with sound.”

“
Oui
. It could even appear as if the stones themselves were singing.” He pointed across the way. “See that one there?”

“It’s fallen over.”

“And I believe it needs righting. Only then will the monolith truly sing.”

“For that you will need help. Henry,” the stranger said, holding out a hand almost absentmindedly. “Kidnappee.”

“Arnaud. Geologist. Pleased to meet you.” They shook. “You’re injured.”

“Yes, my friend, but it is more discomfort than inability that hinders me.”

Folkard had already crossed one of the crystal bridges answering a call only he could hear. All three looked out to where he stood. Turning to look at the bridge, Arnaud said, “Don’t look down,” and set out, his first step a little hesitant, his second and third growing confident.

8.

“THERE’S LIGHT AT
the end of the tunnel,” Whitlock said. As if she could hardly believe he had said it, Elizabeth gaped. He looked at her and winked. Annabelle suppressed a giggle. She was truly too bruised and battered to be giggling, but there was a point where the direst situation became hysterical. “I hear voices,” Whitlock said. He seemed to have switched allegiance, or perhaps he felt it was more seemly that he helped Annabelle along instead of Elizabeth, for whom he obviously had feelings.

“It’s Nathaniel and Arnaud.” She knew that much from the
“oui”
. As much as she wanted to hurry along, she could go no faster. They emerged upon a vista of that made her gaze in wonder.
Crystal cities
. The sight bolstered her spirits, brought tears to her eyes. The sound that Notch made at her side could only be described as happy.

9.

“WHAT ARE THEY
doing?” Highmore took a few steps onto the bridge before stopping. As he glanced down the sudden widening of his eyes revealed he didn’t like the view. Did he dislike heights as well has suffer from claustrophobia?

Across the way, the four men were wrestling a stone approximately the same height as Nathaniel into a standing position. It wavered on one edge, making Annabelle catch her breath. She was positive one of them would be hurt in the attempt. Henry was already injured and Nathaniel had a weak wrist, but finally the stone rolled into place.

She didn’t know what they’d been expecting but everything…seemed better. The light increased. Annabelle felt optimistic. Even her hurts failed to irritate quite as they had. She had only seconds to enjoy the good feeling before the walls shook.

Something screamed in pain, and Annabelle half heard, half
felt
it. She clasped her hands over her ears as explosions, shots and the shouts of men assaulted her from all directions. It didn’t seem to matter how far away they were. With the righting of the standing stone it was as if she knew the layout of Phobos and everything that was happening within. The treasure seekers battled the mole creature and she could
feel
its screams.

A piece of the city shook free, falling to shatter on one of the bridges below. Chaldrites scattered. Cracks began to appear in the infrastructure. Henry, cradling his injured arm, hurried back across the bridge, Arnaud just behind him. Elizabeth screamed; Annabelle shouted. A crack travelled from the middle juncture straight for Henry’s feet, but neither he nor Armand could avoid it. The bridge…separated, both sides throwing the men apart to balance precariously on the two fragile ledges. Both would fall. Who went first was only a question of which ledge snapped.

10.

HIGHMORE BARELY HESITATED
. He was paralysed for a few seconds which shock accounted for, and then he was moving. Nathaniel might have been moving too, but he had his own problems. Another
boom
shook the city; a flash of light and what seemed to be fire from on high. Pieces began to fall. Folkard and Stone flinched back, barely avoiding the crystalline splinters that rained down. He pushed away from the side as soon as he could get his balance, just in time to see Henry pitch to the side. Then Highmore was there, legs wrapped around the broken remnants of the bridge, hands reaching, pulling Henry to safety, ignoring his friend’s cry of what was surely pain as he pulled on his injured arm.

Without thinking, Nathaniel moved out on the other side. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but Arnaud was caught, trying to pull free.

“Joseph!”

Henry’s shout accompanied a shriek from Elizabeth. Henry was now back on the ledge, but more of the crystal pendants fell, one of them sweeping Highmore to his doom.

Nathaniel tore his gaze away from the falling man, but made the mistake of gazing down. This was little better than walking on glass…or thin ice, and Nathaniel was no more safe than standing on a pond over frozen depths. This barrier continued to splinter, cracks zigzagging and snapping under his feet. Through the clear sheet he saw open space, and what appeared to be an infinite view of distance, a shaft leading to an endless void. Even worse was the sight of falling Chaldrites and Joseph’s terrified face.

He’d thought the man such a braggart when first they’d met, and now Nathaniel was watching him fall to his death. Seconds only, but the time stretched. In Highmore’s eyes, he saw fear and…acceptance. A trade. His life for Henry’s, for the happiness of his sister. What was it Highmore had said about a premonition? Nathaniel, the one to think the least of Joseph Highmore, was the only one seeing the true mettle of the man as he fell to his death.

Love sometimes meant sacrifice.

Nathaniel moved, ignoring the cracks that pursued him. He ignored Arnaud’s shout telling him to get back, to save himself. He grabbed the strap of Arnaud’s canteen holding Arnaud trapped, and which he couldn’t reach, and with strength he didn’t know he had, Nathaniel snapped it.

“We’ll never make it,” Arnaud gasped, although he was already turning towards Annabelle. The group were screaming at Henry to move and he was already making his way to them on what appeared to be leaden feet. Nathaniel didn’t need to look back to know that way was cut off. The ledge grew ever more treacherous and he’d heard another part of the city falling,
knew
it would strike the bridge. Nathaniel pushed Arnaud ahead.

Although he tried not to look down, he had little choice. They had to run along a ledge no more than a foot wide and slowly tipping to one side. If either man went over there was nothing either could do to save the other.

The ledge gave a vicious twist. Arnaud cried out, the sound cutting through Nathaniel, severing all hope. Something already dead took up residence within him dragging him out of this reality into the next. Hands were reaching for Arnaud even as he fell, but they would never reach Nathaniel in time…and in that instance, Nathaniel felt at peace. He’d saved Arnaud. He could forgive himself much in that final act.

At the same time, part of Nathaniel resisted. He wanted to live. He had to live! So much to learn, to experience…to
understand!
Diving for the ledge, he felt a great slam to his chest, couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t see for he had closed his eyes. He couldn’t think. Then he realised that he had his arms crossed in front of him, elbows braced against rock, his long frame hanging from the cliff, and he was beginning to slip.

At his side, Arnaud kicked out into space, letting others draw him up, turning to him even before he was safe. Nothing had looked so good to Nathaniel before than the vision of Arnaud’s concerned face, Annabelle’s bright eyes just behind, as his friends reached to pull him up.