Authors: S.K. Valenzuela
“I will,” volunteered Rafe. “I know where the
controls are.” He shrugged and grinned. “A man’s got to know his
machine,” he added.
He wasted no time. A moment later, his boots
and gear were on the bank and they watched him disappear under the
green rippling surface of the river.
It was an agonizing wait.
“Hasn’t he been gone too long?” Brytnoth
asked Jared anxiously. “He’s not been up for air…what if
he’s….”
“He’s not. He’s a terrific swimmer. Just
wait.” But even though his words were confident, his tone betrayed
his misgivings.
After another thirty seconds that seemed to
take ten minutes, an explosion of bubbles erupted near the center
of the river. Jared’s hand gripped Brytnoth’s arm like a pair of
pincers, and they waited breathlessly to see what would follow.
The boat surfaced like a great sea beast,
water cascading from her decks and spurting out the bilge pipes.
Then she steadied herself and leveled out on the surface,
shuddering until Rafe, dripping but triumphant on the deck, shut
off the propulsion engine and switched over to the main motor.
“And there you go!” he shouted. “She’s a bit
damp, but she’ll dry in no time!” He steered her cautiously toward
the shore and tossed them the tie-off line.
Jared flung Rafe’s gear on board and he and
Brytnoth were on deck a moment later. Rafe gunned the engine and
they sped away from the shore.
The banks raced past them now, and Jared felt
relief and renewed hope flow through him with every beat of his
heart. As the dusk shadows poured around them, filling the land
like water in a basin, his thoughts turned back to Sahara. He
wondered if she were still angry, and if he could reopen their
communication.
The trouble is, I don’t know how
, he
reflected.
Childir never explained any of this to me…I don’t
even know how it works. It always seems to happen by
accident.
He sighed and looked with envy at Brytnoth,
who was stretched out on the deck deep in sleep. Another glance
toward the foredeck showed Rafe manning the wheel, lost in his own
musings.
Jared sighed again and leaned back, staring
up at the stars that were both so new to him and yet somehow so
familiar. And then it seemed like he closed his eyes, for the stars
were suddenly blotted out.
I’m not angry at you, if you want to
know.
His vision cleared, and he saw her. She had a
wan smile on her face, but she was so pale and worn that his heart
leapt into his throat.
Are you…is everything…
He fumbled for
words, but she understood what his incoherence failed to
convey.
I know you’re not going to leave me here
to die.
Her eyes locked with his, and he felt pierced to the
very soul.
Are you, Jared?
No, no, by God! Brytnoth found the boat…Rafe
got it to work…we’re coming as quickly as we can…everything’s going
to be just fine, I promise!
A sudden brightness and even triumph spread
over her face.
You found the boat?
Yes. Yes, we did. It’s going to be all
right.
I knew it would be…I knew you would find a
way….
Her voice and face faded, but he saw her smile, and peace
flooded his soul.
He woke to Rafe’s groggy voice in his ear.
“Get up, will you? I need to sleep.”
Jared blinked at him for a moment and then
rubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah, of course.” He stared around
blankly for a moment. It seemed to be the deadest hour of the
night. “Where are we, anyway?”
“We’ll be in Albadir by dawn.” Rafe dropped
onto the deck next to Brytnoth and rolled onto his side. “Just
steer straight up the river. Don’t hit a tree or anything.” And he
was asleep.
Jared made his way forward to the cockpit,
grumbling a little to himself. “Brytnoth’s had more sleep than any
of us!” he muttered. “Why’d Rafe get me up?”
He guided the boat gently along, the
tranquility of the rippling river and the twinkling stars quickly
overwhelming his irritation. But it was not long before he had to
slow the boat’s progress, and then to stop altogether.
“What is that?” he mumbled, peering ahead at
what seemed to be a giant cloud hovering over the river and as far
as he could see to east and west. Not two hundred feet in front of
him, the vegetation ceased abruptly, giving way to an undulating
surface that gleamed silver in the starlight.
All of a sudden, he knew what it was. He
scrambled aft to their packs and began rummaging frantically
through them. It was all there, buried under the rest of their
equipment. He pulled out the silver cloths and goggles and then
hurried to wake his friends.
“Quick!” he said, shaking them vigorously.
“Get up!”
Brytnoth swatted at his hand in annoyance and
Rafe cursed at him. But Jared persisted. “Wake up!” he shouted at
them. “Do you want to eat sand for breakfast?”
With that, they sat up, staring at him
stupidly.
“What? What do you mean, eat sand?” Rafe
asked.
Jared shoved the cloth and goggles into his
hands. “You want to aspirate that?” he asked, pointing upriver
toward the raging cloud of sand.
Rafe paled as he realized how near they had
come to making a fatal mistake, and they silently put on their
gear.
“Thanks, Jared,” said Brytnoth. “Sorry.”
Jared nodded and headed back to the wheel. He
gunned the engine and sped into the blinding sandstorm.
Once within the maelstrom of sand and wind,
he had to slow the boat’s progress to avoid running aground. The
goggles enhanced his vision, but the storm was at its peak and even
with the goggles he couldn’t see more than ten feet in any
direction.
“It’s so strange, isn’t it?” asked Rafe,
joining him. “After the freshness of the south, to come back into
this wasteland?”
Jared nodded. “It’s like death,” he said.
“Our world is dying, Rafe.”
“Dying, yes, but not dead. Not yet.” He
stared into the gritty haze for a moment, and then added, “Not if
we can destroy them first.”
Brytnoth came to stand with them at that
moment. “It also seems strange,” he said, “that the fate of your
planet would be tied to the fate of an outworlder.”
Jared smiled under his mask. “She’s an
outworlder no longer. And neither are you.”
They maneuvered on in silence, the hours
trickling by. At last, the wind ceased to howl, and their vision
began to clear. The sand settled in a film on the water in front of
them, coating the boat and their clothes with a layer of fine dust.
To the east the sky was a paler blue, and a line of gold was
streaking along the horizon.
When at last the air had cleared and the sun
had pulled itself over the horizon, they shed their masks and
goggles and took deep breaths of unfiltered air.
“Makes me miss the south,” Brytnoth
commented, shaking his head and watching a cloud of sand fall
around him.
“Look,” said Jared, pointing to the north.
The watergates of Albadir shimmered in the early morning sunlight.
“Home.”
They sped up the river, not slacking their
pace until they had arrived within the walls. The city still
slumbered, and Jared was thankful for that. Their mission had been
undertaken in secret and he wanted it to stay that way.
As soon as they reached the boathouse, Rafe
leaped onto the dock and tied the boat fast.
“We haven’t a moment to lose,” said Jared,
tossing him their bags of gear. “We need to change out our gear,
report to Arnauld, and be ready to head for the mountains by this
afternoon. Rafe, you and Brytnoth can handle the gear. Pack
light—only bring what we’ll absolutely need. Plenty of food, some
herbs for Sahara’s wounds, and a
kali
for each of us. I’ll
brief Arnauld. Let’s go.”
“What’s a
kali
?” Brytnoth asked Rafe
as they set off for the city.
“A curved dagger that we use for
close-quarter combat. It’s a double-edged weapon…really nasty.” He
flashed Brytnoth a smile. “Good for hunting lizards.”
Jared made his way to Arnauld’s quarters and
hammered on the door. There was no answer, so he hammered louder,
banging away until the door opened under his fist.
“What in hellfire is the matter with you?”
hissed Arnauld, cinching his silken robe around his waist. When he
recognized Jared, his attitude changed completely. “Jared!” he
exclaimed, grasping both Jared’s arms and beaming. “You made it!
Come in, but quietly! Aliya is still asleep.”
He drew Jared into an adjacent room, where
comfortable couches nestled against the walls and a gurgling
fountain in the corner invited guests to take refreshment and
peace.
“Tell me what happened!” Arnauld said,
ushering Jared to sit down. As soon as Jared was seated, he snapped
his fingers. A servant appeared in the doorway. “A bowl of fruit
and some water for Lord Alareth!” The servant bowed and vanished,
and Arnauld turned his attention back to Jared. “Well? Tell
me!”
“The Great City still stands, but it’s
totally in ruins,” Jared said. “Its people are either dead or
enslaved. We found nothing alive within the walls…nothing, that is,
save a few maggoty scouts of the Dragon-Lords.”
Arnauld’s eyes narrowed. “You had trouble,
then?”
Jared flashed a grin. “No, my lord. No
trouble. We were able to handle them, and we got what we were
after.”
“The weapons?” Arnauld breathed in amazement
and disbelief. “They were actually there?”
“Yes, my lord. They were in the necropolis
under the Great Temple, just where we thought they’d be. We
recovered them and left the city, but we were delayed. They had
taken the boat.”
“They? Who’re they?”
“The Dragon-Lords.” He heaved a sigh and
studied his hands. “Childir warned them of our coming just before I
killed him. They took the boat and sunk it some way upriver.”
“Childir is dead!” Arnauld breathed. “And by
your hand!”
“Yes.” Then, continuing the story, Jared
added, “But we found the boat, and Rafe was able to save it.”
“With the underwater propulsion system,
yes?”
“Yes.”
Arnauld chuckled and rubbed his hands
together gleefully. The servant entered with a tray of fresh fruits
and a pitcher of water and set them on the low table before
Jared.
As he bowed and left, Arnauld said, “You
know, when the shipwright told me about that system, I thought,
‘What an extravagance! Why would I ever need such a thing?’ But I
wanted only the best, and I told him so. I never thought it would
actually be useful for anything.” He laughed again. “I guess it
just goes to show you that you never know what good will come of
seemingly insignificant things.”
“It’s only too true, my lord.”
“And what now? What is your next step?”
“We’re heading into the mountains today to
seek out the place of sacrifice. We have but two days until the new
moon…there’s no time to waste.”
“Where will you look?” Arnauld asked. “Do you
have any ideas?”
Jared bit into the spicy-sweet flesh of an
edulia fruit and considered for a moment. “I have a vision,” he
answered.
“A vision?”
“A vision. And illuminations in a
manuscript.”
“Those hardly constitute a map, Jared.”
“I know.” Jared took a deep draught of water.
“But is there any other way?”
Arnauld thought hard for a moment, as though
weighing whether he should speak or not. “Have you been to the map
room?” he asked at last.
“The what?” Jared leaned forward in his seat
eagerly.
“When the Great City was under attack, two
clerics of the temple smuggled as much of the library out of the
city as they could. They were waylaid, and much of what they
carried was destroyed. But the maps survived. Our scouts found them
hidden in the rushes near the river. They have not been looked at
for many, many years, for there has been no need and no one to
interpret their meaning. But you might find something in those maps
to guide you more effectively than a vision.”
“Where is this room?” asked Jared.
“There is a secret passage within the
library. On the seventh shelf along the east wall there is a large
tome. Its binding is faded, but three letters yet remain in gold
along the spine. Remove this book from the shelf and look behind it
for a small lever. Pull it, and the passage will open.”
Jared was already on his feet. “Have I your
leave to go, my lord?”
“Go with all blessings, Jared. And I expect
you all to return with Sahara by week’s end.”
Jared smiled, bowed, and left.
Arnauld shook his head, hope flooding out of
his face. He picked a fruit off the plate Jared had left, bit into
it solemnly, and sighed.
“I only hope they make it in time.”
Half an hour later, Jared, Brytnoth, and Rafe
stood in front of the designated bookshelf in the library. The
faded red volume squatted on the shelf between two enormous tomes
on natural history and taunted them with its brilliant gold
inscription.
“Who knew?” Rafe said, breaking the
crypt-like silence at last. “Who knew there was a secret passage in
here?”
“I always thought the place looked bigger on
the outside than it did on the inside,” Brytnoth remarked.
Jared took a deep breath. “Well, here
goes.”
He reached for the book and drew it slowly
out of its place. They all peered into the void it had left.
“I don’t see anything,” said Rafe
impatiently.
Jared reached his hand inside and felt
around. After a moment’s vain searching, his fingers caught on a
small protrusion at the back of the shelf.
“I found something,” he said.
“Well, pull it!” exclaimed Brytnoth.
Jared curled his fingertip around the small
lever and drew it downward. With a groaning and creaking, the
eighth shelf drew back and then slid behind the shelves next to it,
revealing a dark and very dusty passageway that wound down into the
guts of the earth.