The Circle Line (20 page)

‘Yeah, I’ve heard that before.’ said Sam struggling out of the deep snow, gritting his teeth at the mention of his parents.

Sam saw something small and shiny fly from inside the folds of Ferus’ cloak, a silvery object which moved in the air to near Ferus' hand. There was the unmistakable
‘clink’
of a lighter flicking open and Sam dived to one side. A bolt of flame flew from Ferus' hand, sizzling in the snow. Ferus held the line of fire and began to snap and flick it like a whip. Laughing, he chased Sam around the clearing with the fire, flicking it at his heels. It was all Sam could do to push himself out of the way, bounding away from trees at the edge of the clearing and leaving round impacts in the snow where he pushed from the floor.

When Sam felt himself to be in the right place he threw himself with all of his might at Ferus, gathering all his strength and pushing against the trees behind him as well as pushing a massive force at Ferus. But he felt a terrible pressure in his shoulders and branches snapped and cracked on the tree behind him. Ferus remained immobile.

Sam darted away again, and felt the heat of flame at his back. He had to turn and fight. Ferus  flashed another bolt of fire at him. Sam seized it with his presence and wrenched it away from Ferus, flicking it back so that it seared a line across Ferus' cloak.

'Huh.' said Ferus. 'So, you've learnt a few things I see.'

He raised his hands again with a bellow and threw a sustained burst of presence at Sam. Sam sent presence back and their opposing blasts crashed in mid air, ball lightning flickered and flashed in the air where their powers met. Sam pushed as hard as he could, but he could feel he was losing. Then Ferus gave an extra push and Sam's presence collapsed. He was suddenly grabbed mid air and thrown into the snow. Ferus walked over to him. Sam could not move and looked up at his foe and the stormy sky behind him. Lightning flashed above as Ferus crouched over him, speaking to him quietly.

'I'm going to kill you now. And when you're dead. I'm going to kill your two friends.'

Sam struggled but he could not move. He lay flat on his back, his arms outstretched. Ferus increased the pressure and Sam found he could do little to resist. He was utterly trapped.

'Do you know what it was all about?' said Ferus, his mouth now near Sam's ear. 'The greatest secret of our worlds? Tarak Everune's news? Have you ever wondered why some lines take you to another place in time in your world and other lines take you to another world entirely? It's a strange system isn't it? Time and space crumpled over each other. Still, we cannot understand the minds or wills of the gods who created the lines. Pyxidis made our world, complete with lines to yours, so who are we to question why he did what he did?

‘But, our worlds are so similar aren't they?' Sam felt Ferus' breath hot on his ear, his voice was barely a whisper.

'It's because they're the same place. When you have the full story it all just seems to fit. In the past of my world a terrible event caused the death of almost everyone who lived there. Ancient history tells us that almost the entire population was killed by our all powerful god in a blast from the heavens. Those few who were allowed to live were altered, affected in some way so that powers developed and new beasts began to form. That is my past. But it is your future.’

‘Our worlds are one. There is no other place. Pyxidis was no mage. No wizard infusing the world with magic. We merely exist in different times. At some point in your future the world will almost end, and the Riven will be born.

‘What did Tarak call it? Ah yes, a supernova, blasting away almost all life, causing radiation that would affect us all, that would turn some men into beasts and create rips in time that would forever cause us to loop back upon ourselves. The line is a circle.

This place. It’s not Tongue's Scar, no. it is called Tunguska. In Russia.’ He shook his head. ‘Why the secret keepers kept that one to themselves I'll never know. Perhaps it was only recently discovered by Everune. Perhaps it was the magnitude of it all that drove him to drink.’

‘Still,’ he said 'there's no point in dwelling on the past.’

Ferus stood. Now that his mouth was not near Sam's ear the noise of the storm that was now in full force rushed to fill the gap and Ferus had to shout to make himself heard above the wind that roared between the trees, lifting the snow from the branches.

‘Time to die, Sam Hain.’

Sam readied himself and saw Ferus tense for an attack. Sam realised he had but one chance. He concentrated his will on Kya and Weewalk. There was no way he was going to allow them to remain in danger. He had to get them out of here. He gave both a push sending them sliding through the snow and into the trees in opposite directions and out of sight. The move had surprised Ferus and broken his hold on them.

Ferus rolled his eyes. ‘Urgh, one of those heroes. One of those 'I have to get my friends out of danger' types. Well, I'll track them down soon enough after I've dealt with you.’

Sam looked up. He had nothing left. The end was upon him.

In a cold, dim and silent hall Aleksy hurried towards where the Riven King sat on his throne. He could scarcely believe that he had made it in here. He would never have made it without Allende's help. Although no wind entered the room the King's black robes billowed silently and slowly around his immobile body, obscuring his head, carried aloft by some weird magic. A single bright shaft of light hit the floor before the King, in the centre of the room, a stark contrast to the blackness around it. There was only one sound in the room despite the presence of the few silent servants who, like Aleksy, were careful to keep to the shadows, keeping as close to the walls as they could. The sound was a low hum, the noise of a coin spinning in the air, but maddeningly elusive. The servants huddled into the corners trying to avoid the crystal shards that shifted slowly around the room before the throne, like a window breaking in a slow tornado. Aleksy had learnt from Allende that each of these was a weapon, wickedly sharp, taken from the mines below and with properties which ordinary men like Aleksy could not fathom. They span slowly around the room in arcs, a maelstrom seen in slow motion. They drifted through the shaft of light throwing bright patches onto the dark walls. Frequently these white lights flashed patches of red as some shards were coated in dried blood where the Riven King had directed his anger at those who dared disturb him, pushing a shard through the body of the unfortunate by using the power of his mind. There were tens of thousands of pieces of crystal, every one of them held in the air by the King's presence. It was said that when they all turned red then the world would fall, but not many had seen them and lived to speak of it. No-one had ever seen a shard fall, never seen the King lose concentration for even a fraction of a second.

The Riven King was old. No one was sure just how old. He sat immobile on his magical throne, a relic, Allende had said, from experiments that men had carried out in a place called Montauk many millennia ago. The King was deep in concentration as he sensed the world around him. His eyes, just visible in the shadow of the dark cloak, were completely white, blank, like those of a blind man, yet they saw much. Aleksy crept towards him. He would kill the King. He would gain his freedom. He pulled a wicked looking shard of broken glass, bound with string for grip, from beneath his tunic and crept towards the throne. The King did not stir but then, suddenly, Aleksy felt the King's presence take hold of him. He was held, his mind stripped bare and he felt everything leak from his brain.

The Riven King stiffened. A single eye rolled in its socket and a black pupil and a brown iris snapped to the front to stare at Aleksy with a gaze that utterly terrified him. If he had not been held by the presence he would have been paralysed in abject fear. The Riven King's other eye remained blank. Then the hood fell back to reveal the face underneath. Unable to move Aleksy could only stare in horror. It was Allende.

An eyebrow twitched and then a laugh escaped the King's mouth which caused everyone who heard it to fall to their knees in fear. But Aleksy could not move. He could not even shake with the terror that consumed him. He could not even ask why. But Allende, the Riven King, sensed his question.

'Men like you fascinate me, friend Aleksy. Men like you just won't quit. And there is no sweeter moment than watching men like you come to the very edge of success only to see it collapse around you.' Allende giggled hysterically. 'I enjoy watching men fight and fight, unaware of the complete futility of their actions. I enjoy watching such men die. I will never be beaten.'

Then the crystal shards began to fly quicker around the room in a terrible hurricane of ice. More than a few emerged from the shadows red, blood dripping from them as they ripped through the servants.

Aleksy felt the fire inside his chest flicker. No, it would not end like this. He gathered every ounce of emotion. From somewhere he found strength. His hatred of the man before him consumed him and he drove a leg forward, moved an arm. He slashed with the knife.

The King's laugh lost its pitch and became a bellow of pure rage that echoed out of the room and into the complex beyond. A tiny droplet of blood appeared on his cheek. Aleksy's lunge had barely scratched him. Aleksy was held immobile again and he knew then that he had lost. Then, the size of the crystal whirlwind narrowed and the blades ripped through him with terrible force. His tattered body fell to the floor, soft and bloody. He had failed. The roar of the King's voice continued to echo. The Riven King was awake and his anger was terrible to behold.

In a cell Tarak Everune felt the delicate hold that he had on Aleksy's mind stutter and wink out. Tarak hung his head in sorrow and closed his eyes.

Ferus gathered himself and sent what must have been every ounce of his power into the boy lying before him. This was the killing blow. Sam closed his eyes a spilt second before it hit and said a silent goodbye. His final thought was of Kya and what might have been.

BOOOOOOOOM.

A thousand miles away Piotr leapt from his chair as he felt the ground rumble. The glass window trembled and then burst, showering the floor with glass. He dashed to the machine on the desk by the window and looked in amazement at the wide scribble that the arm had produced as the graph paper scrolled through. He studied it for a moment, trying to get to grips with the size of the tremor shown on the seismograph. Then slowly he raised his head to the cold air that streamed in through the empty window frame. The building was set on a large hill. You could see for miles up here, out over the empty woods of snowy northern Russia. He stared out of the window, unsure what he was seeing. The woods looked different. Suddenly he realised why and he staggered in shock, grabbing the side of the desk to steady himself. The woods looked different because every single one of the trees he could see ahead of him now coated the floor of the valleys and hills like a box of dropped matches. Every single one of the thousands of trees he could see had been knocked down.

The impact was like a tsunami of sound. Snow and splintered wood flew from the point where Ferus had struck Sam. An avalanche spreading in every direction. Yet, it was Sam who opened his eyes. Coughing, he dug himself out from underneath a foot of snow that had gone straight up in the air when Ferus had thrown the full force of his power onto Sam's chest. Sam rubbed his face and spat snow and blood out next to him. Everything hurt as he sat up and looked around.

What he saw was unbelievable. Every tree of the immense forest that had stood around him had been torn down and flung away from him. He looked to the grey building but it was almost entirely gone, scoured away as though the giant fist of some god had punched into the earth at the very point where Sam was lying. Ferus was nowhere to be seen.

Sam suddenly thought of Kya and Weewalk and struggled to his feet, dizzily coughing out more blood as he shouted for them croakily. There was no answer.

Sam staggered towards the remains of the building unsure where else to go. His ears rang and he could not hear very well. He shouted again but his tongue was thick in his mouth. He reached what was left of a crumbled wall and again looked around wildly, holding on to the grey concrete as though he might collapse at any moment. Still he could see no-one. He closed his eyes. He tried not to imagine Kya pinned under a fallen tree unable to cry out in the cold snow, or Weewalk's small body blasted away like a pebble thrown across a lake.

Then he felt a hand grip his ankle and he shouted and fell sideways into the snow. He looked down to see Weewalk's face emerge from the whiteness at his feet.

‘Wha?’ he managed. Then he saw. As the kobold pushed away the snow Sam realised that there was a square hole in the floor and a flight of steps that went down, underneath what remained of the concrete building. Weewalk had been in the cellar. He pushed his way out of the hole, looking in amazement at the devastation around him. He was closely followed by a grinning Kya who supported a man who, Sam realised, must have been Tarak.

Sam stayed sitting in the deep snow in amazement as the three flopped down in the snow before him. Then Kya gently set Tarak with Weewalk, rose to her knees and flung herself into Sam's arms and he was enveloped in her warmth.

When Kya eventually released Sam from the embrace Weewalk shuffled over and slapped him on the shoulder. Then Tarak came to greet him. His hair was long and lank, greying at the temples. He had a straggly beard, full of knots and tangles and his clothes were little more than rags. But his face, flushed pink from the cold, was kind and happy. He wore a smile, just visible under his unkempt moustache.