The Floating City - Chapter 23

The Daring Leap

“Are we in favor?” Heads nodded around the cramped room. Aki stifled a yawn. This meeting had been going on all morning and nothing of importance had been decided. Three five-days after Benji’s death and everyone was still overly cautious. It didn’t help that the Prime and the Choisant’s crackdown on the city streets above had become even more brutal. While it had led to members of Eolas faculty, members of the Resistance, and even townspeople joining their cause, the new arrivals were skittish. And worse, thought they should be in charge.

She leaned forward on her stool, “I’m sorry, but I don’t agree.”

Several of the other people in the room grimaced. There were nine of them crowded into the small room, and despite the chill in the air outside it was stuffy and cramped. “We have been over and over this, Aki,” Said Lothar, the self-appointed leader of a delegation of townspeople, mostly other merchants. It seemed to Aki like the merchants had picked their representative based on his wealth and volume of his voice. Getting to know him over the past several days had not dispelled that notion. His face was florid and flushed with and there were large sweat stains on the armpits of his robes, which looked ornate for someone who was part of a revolution. “It is too dangerous to come out into the open. We have to be cautious, wait until set-down. The Choisant outnumber us five to one…”

“So you have said repeatedly,” Aki interrupted. “But what none of you have acknowledged was that it was ten to one odds three five-days ago,” palms flat against the battered table that filled the room, she stood up and glared back at the other erstwhile leaders of the Engineer’s Rebellion. “With every crackdown, every time the Choisant arrest innocent men and women in the street, more and more townspeople join our cause. People like yourselves. If we wait until set-down, they will reinforce, and by then it will be too late. The time to take the fight to the Prime is now!”

“Calm down, calm down,” came the querulous voice of Sephina, one of the older faculty members. She was a gnarled looking woman, with thin and wispy white hair. Aki remembered Sephina ruling her classes with an iron fist, in defiance of her decrepit appearance. She also knew for a fact that Sephina had joined to protect some of the younger students. Aki wished that Filias had showed the same strength of character. “We appreciate the work you and the other Engineers have done, but, I am afraid that Lothar is correct.“

“Thank you,” Lothar began, but Sephina glared at him, and he quieted, a sullen look on his face.

Sephina held the glare a moment, to make sure that he would not start speaking again, and then continued. “We may have had more people join the cause, myself included, but none of us our soldiers. We are outmanned, and without the armament, Fòrsic or otherwise, that we need to bring down the Prime.”

“But we have to try!”

“Aki,” Sephina’s voice softened, “I know you are broken up about the death of young Benji, but throwing all our lives away will not help. We need to escape the Ater-Volante instead, regroup and raise the ground-siders to join our cause. If the city cannot resupply, then the Prime will have to listen to our demands.”

Much as she wanted to, Aki couldn’t deny that Sephina was right about the tactical situation. They had been pulling back and hiding since before Benji’s death, more people supporting them notwithstanding. “It is not enough,” she insisted, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. “We may be surviving, but we are not doing anything else.”

“I believe I may have a compromise,” a third voice put in. Aki frowned, curious. This was the first time she had heard him speak, she realized. The speaker was a middle-aged man, bland and non-descript, although his accent and skin-tone both had a Thesian flavor to them.

“And who are you?” Lothar asked.

If the man was upset with Lothar’s tone, he did not show it. Instead, he just smiled. “People know me as Darius.”

Beside her, Maz stirred in her chair and leaned over to whisper in Aki’s ear, “He’s the senior Resistance member in the city, or so Aziz claims.”

Aki pursed her lip, thinking. So that was who he was. The Engineers had been regularly dealing with the Resistance all along, but the organization had many layers. She had only ever met a few, like Aziz, a Alisian man who had been their main point of contact.

“That tells me nothing,” Lothar said, his face growing redder.

“What do you propose?” Aki cut in before Darius could answer. She wouldn’t allow a cretin like Lothar to upset as potent a potential ally as this one.

Lothar sputtered, but Darius ignored him and locked eyes with Aki. “The Don has a request of you, if you have the stones for it.”

She smiled, “Tell me.”

Three days of frantic preparations later, they were ready. Aki checked her Fòrsic pocket-watch and frowned at the time. She looked over at Maz, “They’re late.”

“Good distractions take time,” Maz shrugged, the motion causing the glider suit she was wearing to creak. Aki was similarly outfitted, along with Ora and Jos, two of her fellow Engineers. Darius was wearing a suit as well, with an intimidating crossbow on his back, but his was not a new suit. Maz had found some time to make a few more, but none had fit Darius except for Benji’s. Aki tried very hard not to look at the scorch mark on the chest plate. 

Her eyes flicked over at the thought, but she managed to bring them up to his solemn face instead. “Feeling nervous?”

Darius shook his head. “Feels like I should be asking you that question. This is your first mission since the… incident, is it not?”

“I’ll be fine,” anger had her biting off the words more than she would have, otherwise.

He smiled. She couldn’t tell if it reached his eyes, shadowed as they were by the suit’s helmet. “Just making sure your head is on straight. This mission is too vital.”

Aki ground her teeth together. “I said I will be fine,” she took a deep breath, and changed the subject. “You still have not told me why this mission is so important.”

It was Darius’s turn to shrug. “You need more time, this mission buys it for you.”

“It buys us time on the ground, which is not the same. Besides, I know that’s not why you suggested it.”

“I guess you will just have to trust me,” he grinned, showing teeth as white as pearl. “I know it’s not why you’re here, either.”

“Hmph,” Aki grunted, and the group lapsed into silence again. She knew Darius was right. She couldn’t sit on her hands anymore, and so had jumped at the opportunity for a little sabotage. Or a lot of sabotage, as the case may be. But why did the Resistance want Ater-Volante grounded? She stared out over the edge of the city, the patchwork fields below giving away to sparse, desert scrubland as the city settled into place over Dak.

A distant Whumph interrupted her thoughts. She shifted her feet as the ground shook, and all five of whirled around to stare up toward the city’s center. They were rewarded with sight of a dark plume of smoke billowing skyward. “I wonder what they blew up?” said Jos.

“We can ask them later,” Aki’s tone was firm. “It’s time to move.”

The rest of the group nodded. Together, they activated the central crystals in their suits. The air hummed. Aki felt the warmth of the crystal on her chest. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered, as she threw herself over the edge.

She spread her arms. The fabric and struts on the arms of her suit caught the air, slowing her fall. The strain on her arms was immense. What was a pleasant breeze on the edge now felt like a howling gale. The land below her spread out in dizzy infinity, and the sight of nothing beneath her caused a gibbering panic to curl its cold way up her spine. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. There wasn’t time for terror. Hoping the others followed behind her, she angled herself in against the side of Ater-Volante. The city was wide and shaped like a spinning top; to stay close, she had to catch the air and angle herself forward into the side of rock before her. The effect was disconcerting. The glide evoked a sense of being out of control that was exhilarating, and she had to fight back the urge to whoop at the top of her lungs. After all, it was supposed to be a stealth approach.

Rocky walls sped past. The crystal against her chest grew hotter as it worked to slow her fall. It helped that Ater-Volante was moving too. It was descending towards its berth on the ground below, moving with imperceptible slowness. The city rotated as it dropped. With Aki as the point of a V, the five of them moved diagonally down the city’s inward sloping underside. Ahead of them, a narrow, crystal spar jutting from a hole in the rock denoted one of Ater-Volante’s maintenance shafts. Under normal circumstances, the shaft would be closed and the spar of crystal withdrawn. However, during set-down day, maintenance workers opened the tunnel mouths to blow a change of air through the city’s subterranean systems and ran out the spar to help manage the descent. Aki flared her body as she approached the hole. The strain on her arms doubled and she gritted her teeth as her progress slowed. The crystal on her chest burned white hot. Hoping it would hold, she allowed her remaining momentum to slam her into the crystal spar. The air whooshed out of her. Aki scrabbled for purchase on the crystal and struggled to regain her breath. Looking towards the entrance, she saw an astonished soldier watching them. She struggled to get a hand free so she could fire on him. On either side she felt the spar shuddering as the others hit. Aki was focused on the man, but a part of her counted the impacts. One. Two. Three. Damn.

Aki whipped her head around to see who had missed. It was Maz. Aki was about to call out, to drop off and follow her down and rescue her, somehow, when Maz suddenly lifted her arms and banked upward. The wind blew her up in a graceful, arching loop that brought her back towards the spar. Aki watched, heart pounding, as Maz made a lazy flip midair. She landed lightly on the edge of the spar, and then triggered her suit. A blast of lightning shot forth from her hand, sending the man watching them sprawling. Maz charged down the spar to secure the entrance. “Show off,” Aki muttered as Maz passed her. Maz just grinned.

Once they had all managed to scramble inside the tunnel, Aki paused to assess the situation. While at first glance the man had been a soldier, upon examining his body they found that he wore a maintenance uniform. A half-burned cheroot in his hand explained his presence at the end of the tunnel. Aki felt guilty about that, but needs must. She turned to Darius. “We got you inside, now comes your part.”

Darius pulled out a rolled map from a bag on his hip. “All these tunnels are connected,” he said, spreading the map on the floor. “Each of the supporting crystals has its own pathway feeding back into the central crystal. All of which are closed to human access,” he pointed at the maze of blueprints. “Luckily for us, there are maintenance tunnels that parallel the route,” he knelt and jabbed a finger into the map, “here, here, and here,” he looked around to make sure the group was following him, and Aki nodded. Standing, Darius rolled the map up and stuck it back into his pouch. “Just follow me, and we’ll sabotage the lift spars as we go. I’m not expecting any resistance, but keep your eyes and ears open.”

“That reminds me,” Aki took a crystal from her own pouch, and activated it with her breath. She strode to the edge, and affixed it to the base of the spar. She checked the sight of the ground below, and then returned to the group. “That crystal will discharge in fifteen minutes, and the descent will be done in twenty. We have ten minutes to get to enough of the other crystals and get out.”

The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Aki inclined her at Darius, “lead the way. And I expect you to tell me why this matters, afterwards.”

“We’ll see,” he winked at her, and strode off down the passageway. The rest of the group hurried along behind him. The tunnel was dim, lit only by widely spaced Fòrsic lanterns. The group moved in a series of short dashes and shorter pauses, staying out of the patches of light as much as possible. They saw several branching pathways, but Darius led them past without a second glance. From the directions of their turnings, Aki could tell they were moving in a clockwise fashion along the outer edge of the city. They reached the next crystal spar without incident. Aki placed the next crystal, breathing on it to activate as before. She did not adjust the timing. The Theorist who had put together the Fòrsic Disrupters, as she called them, had been adamant that Aki change nothing. The plan was to induce a cascading series of failures among the balancing crystals, the spars that jutted out along Ater-Volante’s perimeter, and the slightest disruption could ruin the effect. Or so Valessa, the Theorist, claimed. The Runic patterns behind the city’s capability to float was a closely guarded secret. Aki herself knew nothing about it, and had to trust that Val was not sending all of them to their doom. “I’m done here,” she said, and Darius nodded, and led them back towards another junction. The next two crystals were much the same. They saw no one in the deserted passageways they scurried along, and Aki was able to place her crystals with ease.

It didn’t last.

They had come around a corner to find a squad of Stripies stationed in a tunnel intersection. Maz had reacted first. Raising her hands, she threw lightning from her fingertips. It fizzled out. Aki grabbed Maz and threw her back behind the corner. She motioned the others back as well. Meanwhile, the guards snapped to attention and began to fan out along the wall of the corridor. Aki risked a glance and swore at the telltale shimmer surrounding them. “A Fòrsic barrier? Here?”

“It makes sense,” Ora pointed out. “Our advantage is our better Fòrsic equipment, and not all Theorists and Engineers are against the Prime.”

“But why not deploy them until now?” Jos looked nervous, Aki could see sweat beading on his face.

Maz shrugged. “Powerful shield, though,” she moved to the edge of the corner, and took a defensive crouch.

“Maz is right,” Aki said. “It has to be powerful, to block her energy so effectively. A shield like that must burn through crystals, no matter how efficient they make it. Maybe they were afraid of the expense?”

Darius spoke from further down the tunnel. “Can we shelve the musings for later? There are footsteps coming from the other direction.” 

“Halt in the Prime’s name!” someone shouted, and the situation devolved into chaos.

“I thought you said there weren’t any guards?” Aki yelled, and ducked. There was a sizzle as a bolt of Fòrsic Energy slammed into the wall above her head.

“I said I didn’t expect any,” Darius’s voice was calm and collected. Remarkable in the din swirling around them. He moved his head a fraction of an inch, and another blast rent the air just past his ear. Maz held off the first squad of guards, ducking and weaving and slinging Fòrsic lighting from around the corner. The guard’s barrier didn’t appear to be portable, and they were reluctant to leave its protection.   

On the other side, Jos and Ora had their hands full holding off the Stripies coming from the other end of the corridor. Aki and Darius were between the two groups, planning. There were only two squads so far, maybe ten men, but more were undoubtedly on their way. They needed to leave, and fast. Aki pointed at the crossbow on Darius’s back. “Are you any good with that?”

He unslung it and smiled. It was already loaded, and he gestured wicked looking barbed bolt. “I don’t have many, but I can make them count.”

“Go forward with Maz, if we can whittle the guards in front of us down, we can push through. I’ll deal with the ones behind us.”

Darius nodded. He stepped forward to crouch behind Maz. “Can you extend a shield around the corner?” He asked her.

“Briefly.”

“On my mark then. Three. Two. One. Mark.”

Maz flexed her suit fingers. She made a gesture, calling on the suit’s core crystal, and Darius began to shimmer. He raised his crossbow, stepped out in the corner, and fired. The butt slammed into his shoulder, followed by several blasts. The blasts flared as they struck. The corridor glowed with a sudden white light, but the energy left no lasting impact. The shimmer around him fading, Darius ducked back around the corner unharmed. He began to wind the crank on his crossbow, while Maz replaced one of the core crystals in her suit. “That’s one down,” Darius said.

“Keep at it,” Aki turned away, satisfied that he and Maz had the situation under control. She looked at Jos and Ora. “Do you have any spare crystals?”

Jos checked his pouch, “only a few, and I have a feeling I might need them.”

“I am in the same boat,” added Ora. “These suits may be powerful, but they are not at all efficient.”

Aki put her hands on her hips, thinking. They all needed function suits to get out, and they were light on other equipment, besides her cluster of crystals meant to disable to lift spars. The ability of the suits to channel and redirect Fòrsic energies should have been sufficient to bull through any obstacles, but they had not expected as many well-armed guards as there appeared to be. They had placed three crystals. Hopefully, the damage from those would ground the city long enough for Darius and the Resistance to do whatever it was Darius was planning. Valessa had etched the glyphs to produce a wave of energy that would interfere with the Fòrsa channeled by the lift spars. Theoretically, this effect would bleed over onto crystals not targeted by Aki and her team, and force the Prime to replace the whole ring of lift-spars if he wanted to lift Ater-Volante off the ground again. They could achieve a similar effect with the crystals she had already placed, albeit on a much smaller scale. If they were lucky.

The priority now was to escape. Aki dug through her bag, setting one crystal aside in case she had an opportunity to disable one more spar on their way out. Using a metal-tipped stylus, she quickly adjusted the runes on the other five crystals. By adding a few lines, she could convert the crystal from one that channeled air-aspected Fòrsa to one that channeled ice. She also shortened the time before the crystals activated.

Aki signaled to Jos and Ora to cover her with Fòrsic barriers. As soon as they did so, she activated the crystals. She placed three of the five in a line across the middle of the hallway. The other two she affixed to the wall. “Get back!” she warned.

The three of them scrambled down the hallway towards Maz and Darius. Behind them, Aki heard a shattering CRACK. The air in the tunnel suddenly felt much, much colder, and she shivered. She risked a glance behind. The whole width and breadth of the tunnel had been stoppered by an enormous plug of ice, nearly a yard thick. “That will slow them down,” Aki said. “How many left on this side?”

Darius shrugged. “I hit two, and grazed a third. They’ve taken cover now, though.”

“Three left, then,” Aki looked around at her team. “Fresh crystals for the final push. If we rush them fast and hard enough, we will break through easily,” she locked eyes with Darius. “Once we’re through, you are on point. Get us out, I won’t risk our lives anymore.”

He hesitated, but she held her gaze steady. “Fine. Try to keep up.”

“Maz, you’ll lead the charge. Ora and Jos will back you up,” Now that Darius had agreed, Aki ignored him.

Maz nodded, as did Jos and Ora. “We won’t let you down,” said Jos.

“Let’s all just focus on getting out of here,” Said Aki. “Are we all ready? Good. Now… GO.”

Maz shot down the corridor. She used the gliding mechanism in her suit to take to the air, only to ram feet first into a startled guardswomen, who had ducked out of cover to level a Fòrsic lance at the charging group. She went down, hard. Maz, however, sprang to her feet, and continued on down the corridor, Darius right on her heels. Ora and Jos each took on a remaining guardsmen. Jos feinted, coming in low. A blast from a Fòrsic lance fizzed against his suit’s shield, and he popped up with a brutal uppercut. The guardsmen shot towards the ceiling, and then fell to the ground, limp. Ora had a little more trouble. Her opponent was massive, over six feet tall, and he had no trouble keeping the slim woman at bay. Coming up behind, Aki triggered a blast from her suit that fizzled against the guards’ shield. The bright light distracted the guardsmen, and he threw up a hand. Ora slammed a kick into the man’s crotch. Her blow had all the force of her suit behind it, and the guardsmen let out a strangled yelp. He fell to the floor, clutching himself, and the Engineers charged onwards.

Darius led them unerringly. Left, right, and then left again, and Aki saw daylight ahead. She shook her last crystal loose from her pouch, slapped it into place, and then followed the others leaping into the chill spring air. They glided outwards, just above the tops of Dak’s tallest minarets. Up in the air, all her fears and worries fell away. Aki whooped with glee. This is what taking action feels like, she thought to herself, this is exactly what we need to be doing. Ahead of her, Darius heard her war whoop. He turned his head, and she thought she saw the glimmer of a smile.

Chapter 24 can be found here.

The Floating City - Chapter 22

The First Goodbye

 Rika was having trouble sleeping. It had started soon after they had escaped from the Crystalis mines, and she and Simon were tasked with tending to Isa’s wounds and the odd effects that exposure to Fòrsa caused. Except, Simon was also the group’s point man, so much of the burden of care fell upon Rika’s narrow shoulders. Not that she begrudged it, Rika would always be there for Isa, but Rika was the one she called for in the night. And so Rika slept lightly now, and some nights she hardly slept at all.

She had just dozed off, when a murmur from Isa caught her ear. Instantly, she was awake again, lying in the darkness and listening. There was another, louder murmur from Isa, followed by the sound of bedcovers shifting. Quickly and quietly, Rika extricated herself from her pallet on the floor and stood up. Blinking back sleep, she stepped over her bed to Isa’s much more comfortable bed. Normally, they would have shared it, but you only had to be awakened in the face by an elbow so many times before a bed on the floor looked surprisingly comfortable. Murmuring soothing words, she placed a hand on her friend’s forehead. “Oh Isa,” she sighed. It was another fever dream. Ever since the incident in Crystalis, they had been happening more and more frequently. Isa never seemed that sick when she was awake, but her nights were spent sweating and burning, and often seeing visions. Of what the visions were, Rika was not sure, for Isa rarely remembered them and was reluctant to talk about them when she did. Still, the best thing was to wake Isa up before night terrors took her and she woke up everyone else.

Rika reached out and shook Isa’s shoulder, “Isa, Wake up!” She kept her voice low, but insistent. There was no response from Isa, so she shook her again, harder, and repeated her command. 

Again, Isa didn’t respond, but seemed to sink deeper into her dream. Her eyelids flickered rapidly and her limbs began to thrash, throwing off the covers. A small whimper escaped her mouth.

She is not just sleeping, Rika thought, grimacing. If Isa was this far gone into her dream state, there was only one thing left to do. With a sigh, Rika raised her hand eye, and slapped her friend across the face as hard as she could.

Isa reacted before she even woke up, punching her fist out aggressively. Rika avoided it with the ease of long practice, slipping to the side and trapping the arm so Isa could not hit her with her elbow on the follow-through. Once had been enough to remember that. Rika waited, and soon enough Isa’s eyes opened and she sat up, rubbing her cheek. “Alos, Rika, we have to find a better way to do this.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I bet you don’t,” Isa was still rubbing her cheek. “That hurt.”

Rika softened, “I am sorry, but it is the only way to wake you up. Would you prefer to be still having a nightmare? Was it the plain again?”

“No,” Isa said, “and yes. It is always the same thing. I am standing on an empty, featureless plain, as a pair of glowing… somethings approach,” she looked up at the rough-hewn ceiling and sighed. “I am so sick of this. It was manageable when it was only every once and awhile, but it is the same dream every night now.”

“I know,” Rika gave her hug and held her close. “But at least it only happens once a night. You can go back to sleep now.”

“For now,” Isa muttered.

Rika chose to ignore her. “And maybe Roshan’s plan will work out.”

Isa snorted. “When has that ever been the case? He just wants to use me as an experiment again.”

“You know that is not true. We are all here for you, and we will find a cure.”

“I will settle for an explanation, by this point.”

Rika squeezed her tight. “That too. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and get back to sleep.”

“Yes ma’am,” Isa’s smile was still shakey, but Rika would take it. Isa lay back down, and shut her eyes. Rika stayed next to her, loath to return to her bed on the floor. They lay in silence for a few moments, and then Isa spoke. “Rika?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Rika replied, and held Isa close. Eventually, they both drifted off to sleep.

**************

Roshan paused outside of Rika’s and Isa’s door, feeling awkward. What if they were not awake yet? He knew they had not been sleeping well, although both women had been evasive about why, and he did not want to wake them if he could avoid it. However, if Isa’s situation was as worrisome as Rika kept saying, then it would be wise to waste as little time as possible.

He had finally tracked down the Don, and after explaining what they knew of Isa’s situation, was granted use of the Foinse-rod with surprisingly little argument. Despite his plan for the Foinse-rod being what Alistair had wanted all along, Roshan had expected him to be reluctant to give up the rod. The Don had asked several probing questions about how Roshan planned to modify the Foinse-rod to drain Fòrsic energy, questions that Roshan answered only with great reluctance. He agreed with both Syd and Rika that honesty was the best policy, but once knowledge of his glyph sequence was out, he would no longer be able to choose how it was used. The more time before that happened the better, as far as he was concerned, and detailing his plans to one of the world’s most accomplished Fòrsic Theorists was not in service of that desire. Still, he had the stone, and he had not divulged all of the sequence. Small victories, he supposed.

All the Don had asked of him in exchange for the Foinse-rod was that he bring it back it one piece and that he get to observe the treatment. Considering that the man had been showing an intense, and, Roshan felt, predatory, interest in his research the past several five-days, this was definitely getting off lightly. It made him nervous, like an itch between his shoulder-blades that he was unable to reach. He had to press forward, however, and, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Roshan reached out and knocked.

Silence. He knocked again. “Rika and Isa, are you in there? It’s Roshan,” he listened for a response.  He looked at Eithne, next to him. “Do you think they are still asleep?”

“No, listen.”

Roshan listened. He thought he heard a giggle, an echo of muffled laughter. He reddened, but before he could say anything else, Rika said from beyond the door, “What is it?”

“It’s Roshan,” he repeated. “The Don has given us permission,” he did not want to be yelling about the Foinse-rod in the corridor, even if the other, adjacent rooms belonged to Syd, Simon, and Trentor. Better to keep it vague.

“Just a moment,” Rika had clearly understood what he meant anyway, because the door was yanked open soon after. Her face was flushed, and she was tucking her shirt into her pantaloons. Behind her, Roshan could see Isa looking on with a smug look on her face. She was already dressed, in stout wool trousers, and a heavier looking shirt. Despite it being the start of spring, the air was still chilled, and he knew Isa hated the cold.

“Are you both ready?” He said, raising an eyebrow.

Rika’s flush deepened, but otherwise ignored him. Isa winked. “You mean, ready to be a laboratory experiment again?” she asked “I suppose I am.”

“Well, it is a little more involved than just being an experiment. But hopefully it would be for the last time.”

“You make it sound so inviting.”

“But…”

Eithne cut him off, rolling her eyes. “I swear, Roshan, sometimes you seem to forget what tact is.”

“I was just answering the question,” he said, feeling chastened.

“It is all right,” Rika clapped him on the shoulder, “Isa does not know what tact is, either.”

“Hey!”

“Look,” Roshan interjected. “I thought you said this was serious, and urgent.”

“Yes, sorry,” Rika said.

“So, are you ready? We have a bit of a climb ahead of us.”

“A climb?” Isa said. “Aren’t we going back to the library?”

“The Don did not want us to damage the books,” Roshan shrugged, “He insisted that we do it at my lab.”

Isa shivered, “That does not make me feel better, either.”

“I am sure it will be all right,” Rika turned to reassure her. Then, she looked back at Roshan. “Where is your lab?”

“In a cave up on the hillside,” He smiled.  “Bring your cloaks and walking shoes.”

“A cave?” Isa frowned. “Sounds cold and damp.”

“It is much better than it sounds. According to the villagers, the Don used to use it for meditation. And besides,” Eithne hefted the wicker basket she was carrying, “I brought food. We can have a picnic!”

************

“I don’t feel much like having a picnic anymore,” Isa said, two hours later. She was covered in mud, and her teeth could be heard chattering faintly.

“We can eat inside,” Rika said, studying her with a look of concern.

“I am sorry,” Roshan said, reaching the pair and pulling Eithne up to stand next to him. “I had not considered the affect the snow melt would have on the trail,” it had been much easier to climb up here in the winter, when the snow had provided purchase. With the coming of Spring, the trail had been more a mud slide than anything else, one they had to tumble up to reach the rise that denoted the cave mouth that led to his laboratory.

“It is fine,” Eithne said, puffing. “We are here now, and the food survived,” she looked at the basket, which was dripping as much mud as the rest of them. “We might have to clean it off though.”

“There is a spring inside,” Roshan said, and strode, or more accurately, squelched, up to the entrance. He was not looking forward to the return trip. “We can wash up and start a fire,” but as he pushed open the door, he felt warmth on his face. “That is odd,” he said.

 “What is it?” Rika was behind him.

“Someone appears to have beaten us here.”

“Who else comes up here?” Isa asked, shifting into a guard stance.

Before Roshan could answer, a hearty voice came from inside. “Come in!” The voice commanded. “You are letting out all the warm air,” Roshan’s heart sank. He recognized the voice.

Evidently he was not the only one. “It’s the Don!” Eithne said, excited.

“Really?” Isa said, “What is he doing here?” The three women pushed past him and into the cave’s antechamber, leaving Roshan to close the door. He did so grumpily. He had thought that he had time to prepare everything before the Don arrived to observe, and was not pleased to find him already here. He followed after the trio in glum silence.

“Take off your cloaks and shoes in the anteroom,” the Don said. He was seated in the main chamber in a cushy looking armchair, in front of a blazing fire. Roshan had sat there himself on many a cold winter’s day, and had even spent some time investigating the cunningly designed flue that carried the smoke up and away, releasing it further up the mountains. Seeing the Don sitting there smugly raised his hackles, and his jealously, although rationally this was the Don’s hidden cavern, to do with as he pleased.

The women were busily divesting themselves of their outer-wear, and Roshan hastened to follow suit, trying to repress his feelings about the other man’s presence. He was not entirely successful. As Rika and Isa moved into the main chamber, and began chatting with the Don, Eithne stayed behind. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly. “Don’t worry. It will all work out. You said he wanted to observe, and so here he is.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“I know. It feels like his is invading your space. You do not have to be such a male about it though. Remember, this is his space too.”

“Thank you,” Roshan swallowed his ire. “I will be fine.” Eithne was just trying to help, and she was not completely wrong, either. But he just could not shake the feeling that she was not completely right, either.

Following on Eithne’s heels, he stepped into the chamber. The fire did feel nice, he was glad of that, at least. “I did not expect you to beat us here, sir,” he said, mustering a smile.

Alistair Gaunt grinned, and waved his hand at their mud-spattered faces. Roshan could not help but notice that he was dirt free. “Forgot about the snow melt, did you? I took a… dryer route.”

“Would have been nice to know about that route ahead of time,” Isa groused.

“Nonsense! Exertion builds character, my dear girl,” his smile was broad.

Roshan suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Alistair turned to Roshan, “Now, what do you need to set up?”

He thought for a moment, “Um, just the foinse-rod and some chalk, Sir. Some paint too.”

“No other crystals or acids? How will you etch the symbols you need?”

Roshan looked around the room and shrugged. “Most of my notes are here already. And the main reason to etch glyphs is to improve the efficiency of the crystal, but that does not matter with the Foinse-rod. Paint and chalk will do for our purposes.”

“How interesting,” the Don steepled his fingers. “Those implications of the Foinse-rod’s energy had not occurred to me. I hope you do not mind if I observe the set up.”

“Not a problem, Sir,” Roshan said through teeth that were only a little gritted.    

Eithne caught his mood anyway. “What do you need from us?” She said, changing the subject.

Before Roshan could respond, Isa looked down at the splattering of mud all over her, “if you are going to be experimenting on me again, shouldn’t I get cleaned up?”

“We should all clean up, for that matter” Rika said, “I, for one, am tired of being wet and covered in dirt.”

Roshan nodded, “You are both right. Why don’t all three of you go and wash up, while I prepare the Foinse-rod.”

“A great plan,” Alistair pointed towards a door on the other side of the chamber. “The washroom is through there. The basin is fed by snow melt. It is a quite ingenious system, if I do say so myself.”

Well, you did build it, Roshan thought, but refrained from saying aloud.

“Works for me,” Rika said.

“Me too,” Isa said, and she and Rika headed off through the doorway.

Eithne followed on their heels, but paused to look back at Roshan. “Are you sure that you do not need help?”

“I will be fine,” Roshan smiled at her. She gave him a sharp look, but turned and followed the other two without further comment.

A yelp came from further down the hall. “It’s FREEZING!” Roshan heard Isa yell.

“Don’t be a baby, it is not so bad,” came Rika’s quick response.

Almost a bell later, all five of them, including the Don, were ensconced in the experiment Chamber where Roshan had spent a better part of the winter. It felt comfortable, familiar, down to the same Fòrsic symbols etched into the stones of the room. They were there to guard against excessive discharges of Fòrsic energy, and he knew from experience that they worked. Force of habit made him check them anyway, but he didn’t think he needed to make any adjustments.

While the women had gotten washed up, Roshan had accepted the Foinse-rod from Alistair, and had sat cross-legged in the center of the room with his notes spread out before him. The Foinse-rod was a narrow rod about a foot long, with around the diameter of a closed fist, and he had a very complicated glyph set to inscribe upon it. With such a small surface area, etching the runes might make more sense, but he still hoped to use it for its original purpose, and so it wouldn’t do to make any permanent marks. He would do it the hard way.

And so he had sat, the top of his tongue protruding in concentration as he meticulously painted on the energy draining runes with a narrow brush. All the while the Don watched, but said nothing. By the end, all three women were watching as well, also in silence, until Roshan finally put the Foinse-rod down with a sigh. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, “Well, that’s that.” He looked up at the faces surrounding him. “Are you all ready?”

“I’m ready for this to be over with,” said Isa.

“Hear Hear,” Rika smiled.

They arranged themselves in the small experiment chamber. Isa was in the center of the room, inside the etched wards on the floor. She wore white robes similar to the previous days test, but her arms were bare. Everyone else stood outside the circle, their backs to the walls. Rika and Eithne stood closer to the back, while Roshan knelt across from them, near the entrance, with the Don a pace behind him.

“Fascinating,” the Don was peering over Roshan’s shoulder at the Foinse-rod. “So the rod now drains Fòrsic energy?”

“Yes. Although only through touch. I had to limit it because we do not know how Isa’s… infection, is related to Fòrsa. Since I could not isolate her particular flavor of energy…”

“You had to limit the pickup to avoid putting out the lights,” the Don interrupted. He pointed towards a peculiar looping rune on the bottom part of the rod, “I do not recognize this one, what is it for?”

“It dissipates the energy gathered into the air. The foinse-rod appears to have endless Fòrsic energy, but I do not know what happens if you put more into it.” Roshan shrugged, “better safe than sorry.”

“Interesting, interesting.”

“Can you two stop with the questions so we can get this done?” Isa rubbed her arms, Roshan could see goosebumps. “I’m freezing here.”

“Merely pursuing my academic interests, my dear. I do apologize,” the Don waved Roshan forward, “by all means, proceed.”

Roshan stepped forward, “Let’s get started, then,” he said, addressing Isa. “How this works is I will press the rod to the crystals in your arm. The rod will absorb the Fòrsic infection, theoretically allowing them to heal naturally.”

“Theoretically?”

“Would you have preferred I said, ‘hopefully’?”

Isa thought for a moment. “No, continue.”

Roshan stepped forward and knelt next to her. He shook out his wrist, activating the runes on the Foinse-rod. They shone with a colorful mix of gold, silver, and bronze, overlaid onto the shimmering white of the Foinse-rod. Roshan took Isa’s hand in his, it was hot, despite her goosebumps. According to Rika, the Fòrsic infection caused fever and chills in addition to its other more metaphysical effects. He caught Rika’s eye, and she nodded at him. It was time. Moving with deliberation, Roshan lowered the Foinse-stone and touched it to Isa’s arm.

The effect was instantaneous. The glow from the rod shot up the network of crystals in Isa’s arm, filling the room with light. Isa screamed, her head thrown backwards and her back arched in a spasm. Roshan tried to pull the rod away, but it would not budge.

“Stop it!” Rika yelled, starting forward.

“I can’t!” Roshan tugged again on the rod, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, the glow that suffused Isa’s arms was slowly receding, drawing back towards the rod that now seemed fused to her wrist. Isa had stopped screaming, but her back still bent at an unnatural angle, her mouth drawn into a rictus grin. Rika and Eithne rushed into the circle. The three of them grasped the foinse-rod and yanked. Roshan felt like he was pulling on an iron bar, one securely welded in place, but together they managed to pry the foinse-rod loose. Energy crackled in the slowly growing gap between the rod and Isa, and Roshan knew that if they stopped straining it would snap back into place. Finally, an apparent limit was reached, and the force pulling on the rod ceased. The sudden loss of pressure unbalanced Rika, Eithne, and Roshan, sending them sprawling to floor. Roshan lost his grip on the foinse-stone on the way down, and looked up from the ground in surprise to see it hovering in mid-air.

“What in the…” was all he had time to say before a jet of bronze light erupted from the base of the rod and slammed into the cavern ceiling. As the rocks tumbled down, his last conscious act was to throw himself over Eithne and Rika, before an errant stone struck the side of his head, and Roshan surrendered to oblivion.

Chapter 23 is here.

The Floating City - Chapter 20

The Triumphant Return

The cock crowing startled Roshan awake. Rubbing bleary eyes, he peered out his window shutters at the dark and sleepy village. The sun had not yet risen, but the mountains were crowned with fire. Muttering dire threats towards all rooster kind, he pulled himself out of bed and began hunting for something to wear amongst the clutter of his room. Any other day he would have preferred to simply roll over and pull the heavy down blanket over his head, especially since he had been busy in the lab until the wee hours of the morning.

Rummaging through a promising looking pile, Roshan pulled out a heavy woolen robe, dyed some sort of deep blue, and threw it on over a patched pair of pants and a heavy linen shirt. Not a very distinguished look, he thought, squinting at his small, cracked mirror in the pre-dawn light. Still, it’ll do to get breakfast.

The kitchens of the hall were already up and running, and Roshan flexed his cold fingers appreciatively as the warmth of the kitchens embraced him.

“Busy day,” he observed to one of the cooks, a tall, slender Crystalian man by the name of Evan.

Evan cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re up early, I didn’t expect you to be here scroungin’ until the sun was well up.”

Roshan smiled. “A rooster woke me up, I don’t suppose that we can have chicken for dinner?”

 Evan laughed. “Perhaps. But it does a fellow good to rise early.”

“Does you good maybe,” Roshan said, yawning. “Is there any chicory?”

“Not if you want to keep on tasting things,” Evan gestured toward a large kettle simmering on one of the kitchen’s several stove tops. “But if you insist, help yourself.”

“I will, thank you very much,” Roshan ambled over to the stove and took a deep breath, smiling as he inhaled the bitter fumes. For all he hated the stuff, Evan never slacked off on the brew. Roshan ladled the steaming chicory into an earthenware mug and sighed deeply as he took an exploratory sip. “Perfect,” he clutched the mug with both hands, feeling the heat erase the remaining chill in his hands. Taking a hand off for just a moment, he pocketed a spare roll and headed out back into the lodge, raising the mug in salute to Evan as he left.

The halls of the lodge were quiet and shadowed, just tinged with the daylight. For all Roshan had complained to Evan, he was no stranger to this time of day. Since his uncomfortable conversation with the Don, Roshan had been keeping odd hours. Part of it was the pressure to complete his research before Rika and Isa returned with the Foinse-stone, but he had been uncomfortable around the other resistance members since then as well. He moped around the kitchens more often, making friends with the head cooks so that he could beg food and avoid the main hall.

Roshan made his way slowly to the library, stopping every so often to sip from his chicory. He smiled as he approached; the thick oak doors of the library were slightly ajar and the orange glow of a Fòrsic lantern spilled into the corridors. One perk of being an early riser was that Eithne was one too, and Roshan pushed his way into the room with a cheery “good morning!”

“Good morning,” said Alistair Gaunt.

Roshan stopped dead in his tracks, almost spilling his chicory.  “Oh, uh, hello sir. I did not see you there.”

The Don of the Resistance smiled, “No worries, Roshan. It is still early. Besides, I dare say you were expecting someone else, hmm?” He winked, resembling nothing so much as a kindly old uncle, and Roshan flushed at the teasing tone.

“I do not know what you mean.”

“Come now, we are all adults here. You do not need to worry, Eithne should be back soon, she went to kitchens to fetch some food for us,” Alistair glanced at Roshan’s mug. “I am surprised that you did not see her.”

“I must have just missed her.”

“I guess you must have,” there was long pause. Alistair leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. The twinkle in his eye was gone. “You have been avoiding me, Roshan,” he said finally.

Roshan tried not to gulp. “I have been busy, sir,”

“The research, of course, but that is no excuse to hole up in your room,” he smiled. “A young man like you needs plenty of companionship.”

“I will try to get out more, sir,”

Alistair waved a hand. “As long as you are happy here. Now, tell me of your research,” he leaned forward, eyes intent on Roshan, “Harshun tells me it has been going well.”

Is Harshun an informant? Roshan wondered, or just making reports like me? Instead, he settled down into a seat near the Don. He placed his mug on a nearby table, and leaned forward too. “It has indeed been going well. Luckily, since the rumor is that Rika and Isa are returning today?”

“Rika and Isa? Oh, yes, Syd’s rambunctious team. They are due home soon, it might even be today. However, I assume what you really mean is that the Foinse-stone will be coming here.”

Roshan cared about Syd’s team as well, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted the Don to know that. He had heard nothing from the team except for a terse note from Syd, brought by messenger pigeon, saying that they were on their way back to Alsce. “It is true then, they have it?”

Alistair shrugged. “Syd would not return without a success,” he stared hard at Roshan, and then added, “and you have succeeded, too, yes?”

“Oh… uh, yes, we think so.”

“You think so.”

Roshan drew in a deep breath, “well, we can effect a transference of Fòrsic energy between crystals without everything exploding.”

“Excellent!”

“But,” he held up a hand, “the whole process is vastly inefficient. It takes a handful of crystals to repower even some of the smaller ones. It’s only potentially viable with the Foinse-stone, and I have no idea if that will work.”

Alistair stroked his moustache, his brow furrowed in thought. “Which glyph sets are you using? It must be quite complicated.”

Roshan grinned, “you could say that. Together Eithne and I must have poured over a thousand scrolls. We used runes dating from the discovery of Fòrsic energy to glyph sets invented just this year, and everything in between.”

The Don’s eyes sharpened, and he leaned forward. “You went that far back, hmm?”

“Uh… yes,” Roshan shifted uncomfortably. There were some dark places in the early history of Fòrsa, full of things that only the most dedicated Fòrsic historians and theoreticians remembered. Or the most desperate, he thought with a twinge of guilt.   [SL1] 

“I see. I was not aware we had tomes of that nature in the public library,” Alistair gestured to the room.

“Er, Eithne keeps a restricted list of more archaic scrolls. She calls most of it superstitious twaddle, though,” Roshan added hurriedly, not wanting to cast aspersions on his friend, “but some of the early rune formations were helpful with some of the energy transfer glyph aspects.”

Alistair stared at him for a few, hard seconds, and then smiled. “My dear boy, I know precisely where Eithne gets her books. There is no need to worry on her account. Besides,” he laughed, “most of it IS superstitious twaddle.”

Roshan was not reassured by the Don’s show of camaraderie. There weren’t that many shipments of rare books coming into a tiny mountain town, headquarters of the resistance or no. Eithne’s books had to come from somewhere, and if Alistair knew all about them, it was probably his private collection. Despite having used some of the runes in his own research, Roshan found some of the details of the early experiments with energy transference to be very discomfiting. Almost as soon as the first Fòrsic crystals had reached Fòirceann, people had been attempting to bring the energy back, and not all of them had been scrupulous about where the replacement energy came from. Maybe he was being paranoid, after all, Alistair Gaunt was a man of many talents, and was almost certainly a Theorist at one point, but Roshan didn’t feel like he could trust a man with an extensive collection of scrolls about blood magic. Still, he managed a smile at the Don’s laughter.

“Now,” the Don said, “have you given any further thought to my suggestion?”

Here it comes, Roshan thought. “You mean, draining energy?”

“Yes.”

“I cannot say that I have given it much thought,” Roshan lied.

Alistair cocked his head, looking at him. “Why not? It could be a powerful weapon against the Prime. Their stock of Fòrsic weapons is formidable, without them, we would be on an equal footing.”  

“Is open revolution your goal, then? Civil war?”

“My goal,” Alistair said, his voice hard, “is nothing more and nothing less than for the Prime and his cronies to pay for their crimes. The method is immaterial.”

“Síosar is a threat to everyone, sir,” Roshan reminded him heatedly. “Everyone. Including us and including the Prime.”

Alistair chuckled, Roshan thought it sounded forced. “My dear boy, do not be so limited in your thinking. There are two Foinse-stone’s, you know. After the Prime is dealt with, you would be free to do as you wish with the other.”

“We do not even know if this one will work! This could be our only chance, I will not throw it away. I sacrificed…”

“and I have sacrificed everything,” Alistair cut in. “Do not presume to dictate terms to me, boy. This is a more complex situation than you realize.”

There was a hot, heavy silence. Roshan was breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed. 

Alistair checked his Fòrsic pocket watch, a heavy, golden piece. “Eithne must have been delayed,” he said with an eerie calmness. “I have to go. Do tell her sorry for me,” he arose from his chair and strode out of the room, pausing at the doors. He turned back to look at Roshan, “Someday soon you will have to show me your research. We are running out of time,” and then he was gone.

Roshan let out a breath. He hadn’t meant to get that worked up, but by Alos that man made him jumpy. Like a rabbit when a great, big eagle stared at it, but instead of fleeing he fought. He slumped down into his chair, determined to enjoy his now thoroughly lukewarm chicory, and to not think about the shouting match he’d just gotten in with the Don of the Resistance. Not five minutes later though, the library door banged open and Eithne entered brightly, carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray.

“Oh, Roshan, good morning! Did the Don already leave?”

“Morning, Eithne,” Roshan said. “He just left. He left his apologies.”

Eithne made a moue, “why did he send me to get breakfast if he was not going to wait around for it?”

Roshan shrugged, “he is a busy man, maybe he forgot about a meeting he had?” Or he only wanted a chance to talk to me alone, he thought darkly.

“More for us then, Eithne shrugged. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” Roshan smiled, he’d forgotten about the rolls he’d stuffed into his pockets and now he was suddenly starving.

“Well dig in then,” Eithne said, setting the tray down between them. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“I hope so. The Don would not say whether Rika and Isa were returning today or not,” he buttered a thick hunk of bread and took a large bite.

“He is not one to share information unless absolutely necessary.”

“Frustrating, that, especially since that only goes one way.”

She smiled. “Yes, but you cannot deny his effectiveness. I would not be too hard on him, the Don is a man under immense pressures.”

“I know,” but it doesn’t explain everything. Roshan decided to change the subject. He had been doing that a lot, lately, when it came to discussing Alistair Gaunt or the Resistance.  “Did I tell you Harshun and I had a successful test?”

Eithne grinned and rolled her eyes at him. “You told me that yesterday!”

“Ah, but did I tell you how?” he tapped a slim, moldy looking scroll on the table next to him.

“No, but I think I can figure it out,” she said dryly, “considering I found that scroll for you.”

“Well,” Roshan said, striking a pompous pose. “After I discovered this scroll…” he laughed and ducked as Eithne threw a roll at his head. As he came back up, another roll bounced off his nose. “Mercy, mercy, I surrender,” He said, still laughing. “I give you full credit,”

Eithne paused, her arm cocked back and ready to throw a third bread roll. Her blue eyes gleamed at him. “You had better!”

“I bow to your superior skill at arms. But throwing food in a library?” he shook his head and tsked. “What kind of historian are you?”

She struck her own haughty pose. “The best kind,” and they grinned at one another.

They relaxed into breakfast and talking Fòrsic research, and Roshan tried to put his unsettling conversation with the Don from his mind.

Several bells later, he had been mostly successful. Being with Eithne was an easy camaraderie, and he felt he could put his troubles behind him. He had even found time to change into something less rumpled. But his ears still perked up at the ringing sound from the Alsce’s only watchtower. Someone was approaching.

Eithne looked at him as he cocked his head toward the sound, “are they coming?”

“Someone is,” Roshan put his head down. Suddenly he felt very shy. He had been looking forward to seeing his friends ever since he heard they were returning, but it had been a half a year since he had last seen Rika and Isa, and he had only been with them for a brief period. What if they no longer liked him?

Correctly interpreting his look, Eithne grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “Let’s go meet them! Rika and Isa are my friends too, you know.”

“Right,” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He took Eithne’s hand, and then, tentatively, kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

She smiled, he could see the faintest hint of a blush. “Are we going or what?”

He nodded, “let’s go.”

The weather outside was still frosty, even past midday. The last vestiges of winter holding on with gnarled fingers. There was a small crowd gathering near one of the entrances to the village when Roshan and Eithne hurried up. “Excuse me,” he said, as they wove their way to the front of the crowd.

Eithne tapped a man on the shoulder, “who is coming?” she asked. “We heard the bells.”

The man shrugged. “There’s a wagon and some people on foot, but they’re still too far away to make out,” he grinned, “first visitors of the spring though, means the passes are open and we can celebrate the end of another winter.”

Roshan peered outward. There was indeed a group of riders approaching, with horses pulling a small wagon. “They did not have a wagon when they left,” he said doubtfully.

“Maybe they picked one up!” Eithne said, her tone bright.

“Or someone is injured,” his mind shied away from that possibility.

Eithne patted his hand “I am sure it will be fine.  But the only way to find out is to wait.”

Roshan nodded. It wouldn’t be long now. They stood with the crowd, swapping observations and pleasantries with them until the approaching figures became close enough to make it out. As soon as recognized Syd, Simon, and Trentor, he hurried out to meet them, Eithne behind him. A knot began to form in his stomach, where were Rika and Isa?

Trentor was the first to notice him approaching. He looked haggard, and was clearly favoring one of his legs. Roshan guessed it might be the foot that was injured when they first brought Roshan to Alsce. Despite his evident exhaustion, he smiled broadly as Roshan reached him. “Roshan! How lovely to see you, out for a stroll?” He noticed Eithne behind Roshan, and winked broadly, “still keeping good company I see.”

Roshan smiled back, glad to see the talkative little man again. “Better company, I would say, since the last time I saw you.”

Trentor chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Our wayward theorist returns to us!” he said to Syd and Simon. Simon was driving the wagon, with Syd pacing him.

Simon smiled and waved, while Syd favored Roshan with a nod of acknowledgement. The two of them looked tired as well, Simon especially had dark circles under his eyes, and his complexion was rather more freckled than when Roshan had last seen him. “You all look like you have had a hard road,” Roshan observed to Trentor.

Trentor snorted. “You don’t know the half of it, sonny boy. Our full report should wait for the Don, but Rika and Isa are in the back of the wagon and they can catch you up.”

Roshan felt the knot in his stomach relax a little. “They are fine, then? I must admit, I was worried when I did not see them.”

“Rika is doing fine, but Isa…” he shrugged, and Roshan’s heart dropped, “well, she’s had a hard trip. It’s hard to describe, best you just see for yourself.”

“Oh.”

Trentor smiled at his expression. “Ease your mind, she’s not dying. She’s just… strange.”

“Strange?”

“Go see for yourself.”

“I will,” Roshan headed off, and then, pausing, turned back, “and Trentor…”

“Yes?”

“Welcome back!”

“It’s good to be home, kid, it’s good to be home,” Trentor said as Roshan headed off towards the wagon.

Rika and Isa were both in the back, heavily bundled. Rika was trying to feed Isa something from a thermos, but it didn’t appear to be going well. “I’m not an Alos damned infant, Rika,” Isa said as Roshan rounded the corner. She dodged a spoon full of liquid and it splattered on the wagon bed. “I can feed myself.”

Rika clucked her tongue impatiently. “Can you? Can you? What makes you think this time will be different from the hundred other times?”

Isa stuck her lower lip out, pouting.

“I’ll tell you what makes you think that. Pure stubbornness.”

“It is how I have kept going so far,” Isa said. She was aiming for a bantering tone, but it came out subdued.

Rika softened and gave her a hug, “I know, love. And you should not have to grin and bear it much longer, we are almost home.”

Isa said nothing, but she smiled.

“You are home,” Roshan said, taking the exchange as his cue to enter.

“Roshan!” Both girls exclaimed.

“And Eithne,” Eithne said, coming up to join him.

“Eithne!” Rika said, “you too!”

“I see you two are keeping… close,” Isa winked and Roshan blushed.

Eithne just laughed. “Someone had to keep an eye on this lug after you two left,” she leaned into his shoulder and he put his arm around her.

“Awww,” Isa said, “now come up here the two of you and give us a hug. I’d hug back, but…” she shrugged. Looking closer, Roshan saw that both of her arms were in slings.

“Oh no, Isa!” Eithne said. “What happened?”

“She broke both arms getting us out of the Crystalis mines,” Rika said.

Isa glared at her, “you mean, broke both my arms saving all your lives!”

“Right, that too,” Rika turned to Eithne and Roshan and said, sotto voce, “she has been insufferable ever since.”

Roshan smiled as Isa stuck her tongue out at her friend. “Naturally,” he paused, thinking, “But they are still broken? Why didn’t you use Fòrsic healing?”

The two women shared a look. “Well, uh, that is problem number two,” Rika said finally.

“Show them my arms,” Isa said.

“Isa…”

“Do it, they might be able to help.”

Rika nodded, and beckoned Eithne and Roshan forward. As she unwrapped Isa’s arms, she explained, “Do you remember the scars on Isa’s arm from her staff breaking last summer?”

 “Vaguely,” Roshan said, nodding.

“Well, she took some blasts of weird Fòrsic energy in the mines and it… did something to them.”

“Weird energy?” Eithne asked.

“Blood magic,” Rika said, her tone was flat.

Roshan snorted, and then caught himself at their expressions. “Blood magic does not work though,” he paused, guiltily aware of his own use of the forbidden runes. He took a breath, and continued, “I mean, the whole principle of drawing Fòrsic energy from living things is faulty…”

“Funny you should say that, you see…” Rika told him about the Choisant woman in the Overseer’s quarters.

At the end, Roshan’s expression was ashen… “but… blood magic?”

“I know,” Rika laid a hand on his shoulder. “It is contrary to everything we were taught, but, well, it seemed very real.”

“Too right it did,” Isa muttered. “Look at my arms!” she said as Rika unveiled them.

Eithne gasped, and Roshan felt like doing so as well. Isa’s arms were glowing. Faint Fòrsic tracings swirled their way up both of her arms in a spiral pattern that would have been beautiful, if it wasn’t so disturbing.

“Pretty impressive, right?” Isa said.

“That is not quite the word that I would use,” Roshan said.

“What does it mean? How, why did this happen?” Eithne asked.

Both Rika and Isa shrugged. “Dar-Alos knows,” Isa said.

“All we know is that using Fòrsic energy near it makes them grow,” Rika shrugged. “And we found that out the hard way. We have hardly used any Fòrsic technology since Crystalis. It has been a pretty miserable trip.”  

 “I can imagine,” Roshan squatted next to Isa and held out his hands. “May I?”

She nodded. “Go ahead, it doesn’t hurt, but my arms feel tingly most of the time.”

Roshan traced the faint patterns with the tips of his fingers. “These almost look like runic formations. Have there been any other effects?”

“Just one,” Rika said.

“I still think you made that up.”

“Just because you do not remember does not mean it did not happen,” Rika said. She looked at Roshan, “as soon as we were clear of the city, I tried to use some of my healing crystals. As soon as I did, her eyes started glowing a bright green and a small, localized earthquake almost took out our horses.”

“Huh,” Roshan said, “That is… wow. I realize what Trentor was saying now when he said Isa had been strange.”

“That hairy bastard said that, did he?” Isa said. “I’ll be sure to get him back.”

Rika rolled her eyes. “He was only telling the truth, love, it has been a weird few months.”

“Well,” Roshan said, putting his arm around Isa. “You are both back now, and that is what counts.”

“We can solve the problem of your arms in the morning,” Eithne added. “For now, the whole town wants to throw a party welcoming you.”

“Welcoming us?”

Eithne smiled. “Not only are you returning heroes of the Resistance, but you are the first travelers of the season! Everyone wants to celebrate the beginning of spring.”

Roshan smiled too, “Welcome home!”

Chapter 21 is here.

The Floating City - Chapter 19

The Darkened Room, Part 2

They raced down the dark corridor, Rika and Sean leading the way. Syd and Simon flanked Isa as she used the limitless power of the Foinse-stone to deter their pursuers. They pressed onward, moving forward to prevent themselves from being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the mine guards.  At a crossroads, Rika spared a glance behind. Simon was dropping back to Trentor, who was bringing up the rear.

“How are you doing, old man?” He asked.

“Not as old as you are!” Trentor said. He was clenching his teeth.

“I am not the one hobbling behind everyone else,” Simon paused, and gave his friend a considering look. “Foot?”

Trentor shrugged. “Someone’s got to bring up the rear.”

Ahead of them, Syd frowned. “How much further?” she asked Sean.

“Not much, we are almost through.”

She looked back at Trentor, who was panting more heavily. “Don’t… worry about… me.”

“Stay with him,” she said to Simon. “It would be a shame if we had to break out with only five of us.”

“Your… consideration… is overwhelming,” panted Trentor.

As they rounded a corner, Sean threw out his hand and stopped suddenly. “Dim the light!” When Rika obeyed, he lowered his arm and gestured for her to look around the corner. Nerves tingling, she slowly stuck her head around it, and swore as she saw what was on the other side.

“What is it?” Isa asked, whispering as she caught up to them.

“A road block,” Rika said. “Get Syd!”

Isa beckoned Syd forward, and the tall woman was there in an instant. “What?”

“The way is blocked. There’s a cadre of Choisant and a big net.” She had recognized the Choisant from the sigil sewn onto their black cloaks, a crystal set in the center of a spider’s web.

“Can you blast through them?” Syd asked Isa.

“The soldiers, definitely. If the net is anchored at all firmly…”

“It is,” Rika interrupted. “Pegs in the rock on either side of the corridor on both the top and bottom.”

“Then no.”

“Why not?”

“The runes we are using generate a blast wave of Fòrsa, but while it is good for hurling people and doors about, it would pass right through the net,” she shrugged, “think of it like wind. There are too many holes, so the force would be too spread out.”

Syd nodded, understanding. She looked at Sean as Trentor and Simon caught up to them. “Is there another way?”

Sean hesitated, thinking. “Do you have any rope?”

“Yes,” Rika and Isa both answered.

“How much?”

“We each have a coil of fifty feet of climbing rope,” Rika said. “Is that enough?”

“It’ll have to do.”

Simon frowned. “You are not thinking of…” he paused when he saw his brother’s grin and sighed. “Straight out of the top, then?”

“Straight out, indeed.”

“What?” Syd demanded.”

“You explain on the way,” Sean said, nodding at Simon. “The rest of you, follow me!” and he dashed off back down the passageway, before darting down a side tunnel that they had previously blown by.

“Go,” Syd said, and the group followed on his heels. “Where are we going?” She asked Simon again as they rounded the corner and caught up to Sean.

“They have probably blocked off all the entrances by now, if that net was any indication,” Simon said, by way of reply.

“Yes, and?”

“So there is only one exit left.”

“Simon,” Syd warned, “out with it.”

“Well, the Overseer’s office has windows, and a lovely view of the mountains…”

“So that’s why we need the rope,” Rika said, as she paced herself just in front of them.

“What is going on?” said Trentor, limping gamely after them.

“We are going out the windows and down the cliff face,” Simon said.

“It will be fun!” Isa said.

“Sure, if you are crazy. Isa, I think you have been close to too many explosions,” Trentor said. Isa turned and winked at him and then went back to running. Trentor sighed, “At least the view will be nice.”

This set of corridors was different from the one they had been fleeing down before: brighter lit, and with smoother sides. These were clearly the more used areas of the mine, and Rika thought she smelt food cooking. Simon had said that there were communal rest areas throughout the mine. That meant people, but these tunnels were empty. “Where are all the workers?” Rika asked as they ran on.

“Protocol for an intrusion is for the guards to defend the entrances, while the workers are sequestered in the dining hall,” Sean said, in between breaths.

“Couldn’t they help, too?” Isa asked.

“Relations between the workers and the Overseer are at an all-time low. They would as happily help us as help him.”

“After all, you are here,” Rika said.

“He is a special case,” Simon said from behind them. “The mine is a convenient sideline for those in my family’s line of business.”

“How little you know, little brother. Things are different now. Relations are… strained.”

“Much to the family’s benefit, I assume.”

“Only because we choose to see it that way. Disruptions are bad for business, but they do bring other opportunities.”

Simon opened his mouth to question his brother further, but Syd stepped up between them. “Talk later. Run now.”

They ran on. The corridors were now brightly lit, well-traveled paths. Signposts pointed the way to a bar, a tea shop, and to the dining hall. It was a veritable deserted city under the mountains of Crystalis. Their footsteps echoed in the stillness up and down the smooth-worn halls, and Rika could feel hairs rise on the back of her neck. “Too quiet,” she heard Isa mutter under her breath. “I do not like it.”

Rika winked at her. “Do you ever like quiet?”

Isa stuck her tongue out at her. “This is different, it’s…” she searched for a word, “oppressive.”

“I know,” Rika said, becoming serious again. “I feel it too.”

“We all feel it,” Simon said. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

The air felt thicker, heavier, and the sounds of their footsteps vanished into the corridors like pebbles into a still pond. Looking at her arm, Rika could see all of her hairs were standing straight up, and Isa’s thick, black hair was actually lifting up her headscarf as strands wriggled free from her braids. “Isa,” she called, “your hair!”

Isa checked her own arms, “Alos fend.”

“What?” Syd demanded.

Isa was looking around at all of them now, eyes wide. “Fòrsa,” she said. “This corridor is filled with it. It’s why it feels so… static-y.”

“Is it a trap?”

Isa looked at Rika, who shrugged in response. “There is probably enough energy in the air to cook us all, if it discharged.”

“Oh, excellent,” Trentor said, catching up as the group paused to take stock. “I love it when it is good news.”

“In a way, it is,” Rika said. “We are still alive, after all. A trap would have triggered by now. This is…something else.”

“We do not have time for this,” Sean said from further up the corridor. “The Overseer’s chambers are right around the corner. We must go, now!”

“Whatever is happening,” Syd said, “It has not harmed us yet. Let us go before whoever holds this power changes their mind.”

Or finishes whatever they need all this energy for, Rika thought to herself as they rounded the corner. It was not comforting to think about. Whatever was drawing all this energy, she could not imagine it being used for a beneficial purpose. Not in a place where those in charge were actively experimenting with forbidden and dangerous techniques.

The doors to the Overseer’s quarters were indeed nearby, at the end of an ornate, brightly lit, stone hallway. The corridor they had come from opened up near the end of it, leaving the entrance to the Overseer’s chambers at the end of a small cul-de-sac, marked by a garish set of oaken doors. They were covered in gilt with ornate bronze handles, and they were also… vibrating? Rika peered closely at them, trying to figure out why they seemed to be shaking faintly in their frames.

“It appears the Overseer is not given to understatement,” Trentor said, as the group paused to survey the entranceway.

Simon turned to his brother, “do you think he is inside?”

“Only one way to find out,” Sean reached for the bronze door handle.

“Wait!” Rika hissed.

Sean paused, looking back at her. “What?”

“Do not touch it, something is wrong.”

“I feel it, too,” Isa said.

“Everyone back up,” Syd commanded, and the group slowly backed away from the door and into the side corridor from which they had entered. “Now,” she said once they were all back in the side corridor, “What is going on?”

“I think the door is rigged, somehow,” Rika said.

“I agree,” said Isa, “The doors are charged with energy. You can see them shaking.”

“Is this related to the Fòrsic buildup we have been sensing?”

Isa and Rika both shrugged. “Could be,” Rika said.

“We would have to trigger it to be certain,” Isa added.

“Can you open the door without triggering it?”

“Maybe, but It would be easier to trigger it,” Rika said. “If we bleed off the Fòrsic energy, then we can just open the door.”

Syd stared at them both, thinking, before nodding decisively. “Do it.”

Rika and Isa exchanged a quick grin. “On it!”

“And hurry,” said Sean. “We cannot wait here forever.”

Rika waved her hand airily at him, but Isa was already occupied with planning their approach. She peered out around the corner, her senses searching for any reaction and her body prepared to jerk to safety in an instant. She stared intently at the door for several moments, and then pulled her head back. Rika was right behind her.

“Strange, right?”

“Yes, it’s very faint, but you can feel the tension.”

“What do you think?”

“What’s that cliché, tension you can cut with a knife? I say we cut it -- with a rod,” Isa waggled the Foinse-rod at Rika.

“Blowing things up is your answer for everything.”

Isa stuck her tongue out. “A trapped door is not a trap if there is no door.”

“The door does not need to be the focus. It could be triggered if something crosses the frame, or if the door opens. In the first case, we die even if we blew the doors down, and in the second, blowing down the doors kills us anyway.” 

“I know that,” Isa said, “but it should not matter if we use enough Fòrsa. A large enough blast will disrupt any triggering mechanisms. Maybe.”

“It is inelegant.”

“But efficient!”

Rika thought for a moment. “Fine,” she made a calming gesture as Isa clapped her hands in excitement. “Wait, before you run off and do something stupid. I am still worried about the discharge frying us where we stand. What if we reflected it before it reached us?”

“Reflected, how?” Isa said, and then answered her own question. “Oh, I see. That is crazy!” She paused. “Let’s do it!”

Five anxious minutes later, Rika watched as Isa braced herself in the center of the main corridor, with Rika’s crystal studded buckler held at chest height. Three of the five crystals embedded in the shield’s surface were glowing, a triangle of light signifying that the shield would reflect Fòrsic energies. The Foinse-stone was strapped to the back of the shield, the paint of its blast wave creating runes scrapped off and replaced with a new set, mirroring the ones on the shield and increasing its effectiveness. At least, theoretically.

While Rika had been preparing the shield, Isa had been using up the rest of their meager supply of paint on the main corridor, laying down a series of runes to direct Fòrsic energies to a single point. After poking weapons, and then themselves, out into the hallway, they had ascertained that whatever the energy build up was, it was not reactive to them being in the corridor. Still, they had moved the rest of the group even further down the side passageway, except for Simon.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” He asked, as Isa gave them a nod to say that she was set.

Rika shrugged. “Yes, I think so. It is the best way to protect the rest of us, and the energy the Foinse-stone emits is immense. That shield could reflect an Ater-Volantis lift crystal... I think.”

“You think?”

“There’s only one way to know for sure. Can you hit the door from here?”

Simon looked into the corridor, “It will not pose a problem.” He hefted a fist-sized stone and hurled it the door before diving back into the side corridor. The rock hit the door to the Overseer’s chamber with a resounding thunk. Nothing happened. Simon and Rika looked at each other, and then out at Isa.

Isa looked back at them. “Well, that was anti-climactic,” she said, relaxing. “Throw…” but whatever else she was about to say was cut off as a titanic beam of Fòrsic energy erupted from the door and slammed into her small, metal buckler.

“Isa!” Rika screamed as the wind from the backdraft slammed into her and Simon in the wall of the side corridor. The breath rushed out of her in a whoosh and she blinked rapidly, trying to regain her sight. Her ears rang with a high-pitched buzzing sound, and she felt blood trickling out of her nose.

“What… was… that…” wheezed Simon next to her.

“I don’t know,” she tried to snap back, but heard only a croak emerge. “ISA!”  

Syd and Trentor were at their side moments later. Trentor checked them both carefully for wounds. “Are you all right? What happened?” Syd asked hurriedly.

“I’m fine…I…don’t…Isa!” Rika stammered out. Trentor pulled her to her feet and slapped a hand hard on the small of her back. “Thanks,” she said, surprised to be able to take a breath.

“An old combat trick,” Trentor said, as he turned to do the same to Simon. “But anything for our theorist.”

“Oh my,” Syd said. She stood in the main corridor, her hand covering her mouth.

Rika rushed out into the corridor. The stones down the middle of it had been charred black in a single, straight line, about as wide as Rika was tall. The char narrowed to a point where Isa had been standing. Rika looked around frantically. Further down the corridor, there was a limp, black-haired body, limbs and braids spread akimbo. “Isa!” Rika cried as she rushed to her friend’s side. She was still holding the blackened shield, but as Rika touched it, it crumbled into dust, the Foinse-stone clinking to the floor.

Isa was barely breathing, but her eyes fluttered open as Rika cradled her head. “Ow,” she said, so softly that Rika had to bend her head to hear her.

“It should have been me out there,” Rika said.

“I’m… braver… and dumber… than you. Made… sense.”

“Hush,” Rika looked up back down the corridor. “Alos guide us,” she breathed. The door to Overseer’s quarters was simply gone. The ragged hole where it had been showed that the reflected energies had actually enlarged the doorway. The blast had travelled straight through the chambers and out the windows on the other side. Daylight, real daylight, was streaming through.

“Did… I do… good?”

“You did fine, love,” Rika checked her friend over carefully. “Quit the dramatic talk though, you’re not dying.”

“I… know,” Isa said sitting up. “I just like talking like that.”

Rika laughed in relief, and wiped her tears away. Life without Isa was not something she wanted to think about. “Let’s get you up,” she said, and helped Isa struggle to her feet.

Isa let out a gasp as Rika pulled her up and clutched her shoulder.

“What is wrong?”

“I think it’s broken,” Isa took a step, and then switched to clutching her side. “My ribs, too.”

“Everything all right?” Syd called from where she stood further down the corridor.

“Isa is banged up, but we are all right,” Rika called back as she slipped her arm underneath Isa’s and helped her limp toward the rest of the group.

“We need to go, now!” Sean said, glancing around the hallways uneasily. “Someone else will have heard us.”

“Everyone will have heard us,” Trentor said. “That was the loudest noise I have ever heard in my entire life. Living inside of a thunderclap would be quieter than that noise.”

“All according to plan,” wheezed Isa as she and Rika reached the group.

“Oh, really?” Trentor arched a bushy eyebrow. “You meant to blow yourself up?”

“Well, no, but we broke through the door, triggered the trap, and no one died, so…”

“We can discuss this later,” said Syd. “It is time to leave.”

The group hurried down the corridor, Rika supporting Isa’s limping, hunched-over form. The Overseer’s quarters were as ornate and ostentatious as the doors had been, and they were almost as destroyed. “I guess we will not trip on anything on the way out,” Trentor said, gesturing at the swath of destruction that led out to the broken windows.

“You are welcome,” Isa said.

“I cannot wait to get out of here,” Rika said, “This place gives me the creeps. It feels like a storm is coming.”

“A storm IS coming,” came a voice, low, throaty, and unmistakably feminine. The group whirled toward the sound. The speaker was a tall, dark-haired woman, dressed in black and crimson robes emblazoned with the spider-web of the Choisant. Rika fought an urge to gasp. The woman was holding a severed head as casually as if it were a handbag.

“Who are you?” demanded Syd.

“The new Overseer, of course. The old one was ineffectual. He was… terminated from his position,” She hefted the head, and light flashed off of the crystals protruding from the eye sockets.

“Crystals in the eyes,” Rika said, “Careful!”

“I thought you said blood magic does not work,” Trentor said.

 “Blood magic did not work, but the world is changing,” the woman said. “The age of Fòrsa is ending. Allow me to demonstrate,” she lifted the head, and the crystals embedded in its eyes began to glow a sickly green color. The mouth opened, and the hair on the back of Rika’s neck began to tingle as energy gathered. “I have enjoyed watching you scurry about my mines, but it is time for you to leave now – and you may even serve a higher purpose once dar-Alos has gathered your souls.”

“No!” Isa cried as the beam building in the head exploded outwards. Dragging Rika with her, she threw herself in front of the group, raising the Foinse-rod still clutched in her injured arm. Thunder pealed, deafening in the enclosed space, and everyone was thrown to the ground. The beam, however, was reflected back. With another ear-shattering bang, the head burst. The impact threw the newcomer through the wooden partition behind her.

“What in dar-Alos’s name is going on now?” asked Trentor.

“I have no idea,” Rika said. “Help me get Isa up, and let us get out of here as fast as possible.”

Isa was out cold, a limp weight pinning Rika to the floor. Rika had tried her best to catch her friend with her body, but now she was having trouble getting out from under her. “I had no idea you were this heavy,” Rika muttered, as Trentor and Simon hauled the two women to their feet.

Isa’s eyes fluttered open briefly. “How rude,” she said, and then she was limp again, although her hands still clutched the pristine Foinse-rod. Rika queasily noted that the spiraling scars on her arms, the legacy of the previous summer’s incident with the bandits, were glowing faintly. That cannot be good, she thought. However, there was no time to consider it further. Syd and Sean had also picked themselves off the floor, and were busily tying their ropes around a central pillar. “We need to leave,” Syd said. “I want to be on the ground before they come to investigate.”

“There is no way Isa will make it down by herself,” Rika said, looking out over the drop. The late Overseer’s quarters opened up onto a sheer cliff of at least forty vertical feet, overlooking the Crystalis. This would be a challenging climb, even under normal circumstances.

“I will carry her,” Simon said. “There is enough rope left over to tie her to my back.”

“All right,” Trentor said. “Let’s go. Preferably before any more terrible things happen.”

Chapter 20 can be found here.

The Floating City - Chapter 16

The Untold Stories

Roshan returned to the central hall in a fugue, still mulling over the ramifications of his conversation with the Don of the resistance. Deep in introspection, his need to pace had instead led him through the back door and out into the night. The bracing cold felt like clarity as he wandered the outskirts of the village, avoiding the pooling glows of light that denoted people, warmth, and companionship.

Finally, his wandering feet led him back to the meeting hall; right around the time that he had lost feeling in his fingers. As he entered the hall and stamped the snow from his boots, Eithne came to greet him, a worried look upon her face. “Roshan!” she exclaimed. “Where did you go? I was worried!”

“I, uh, went for a walk,” Roshan replied lamely.

“Outside?” Eithne laid a hand on his shoulder and tsked. “You are freezing, let me get you a mug of chicory and warm you up,” she said, taking his arm and leading him away from the doorway. In the warmth of the hall, he realized how cold he had been.

“Thank you,” he said. “Sorry, I had a lot on my mind.”

Eithne patted his hand comfortingly. “It is fine. I know the Don has placed a lot of pressure on you. Just remember that I am here if you need to talk.”

“I…” Roshan opened his mouth to unburden himself, but stopped abruptly, struck with a sudden thought. In his growing sense of unease, he realized that he had neglected to question anyone in the village closely about the Resistance. If the Don ordered him to do something and he refused, what would happen? Would the Resistance members cart him away, never to be heard from again? Would Eithne turn away from him? Was she friendly and open to him because that’s who she was, or because the Don had ordered her to be? Were there other Theorists before him, who had wondered the same thing and then disappeared?

He had been treating Alsce as his own personal research retreat, enjoying the people, the food, and the unfettered access to books to research what he was most passionate about, but ignoring everything else about the political situation. Now his willful blindness was coming back to haunt him, and he was no longer sure how to proceed. However, Eithne was staring at him expectantly, so he decided to change the subject. “Why are you here? I mean, why did you decide to join the Resistance?”

Eithne blinked at him, and then smiled, taking the non sequitur in stride. “I’ve told you some of this, you know,” she said with a chuckle. “Have you forgotten?”

“No, no,” Roshan assured her, “I’m just… looking for reasons.”

Eithne smiled warmly up at him, understanding what he was asking beyond what he was saying. She was quiet for several moments. “It’s about what is right,” she said finally. “Of how difficult my family’s life was before getting I got a job at the library there.”

Roshan nodded, “I remember.”

“Well,” Eithne continued, “I told you that I left Crystalis, and traveled to Dak, where a Resistance member recruited me and sent me here. I never told you why I left Crystalis in the first place.”

“I assumed it wasn’t willingly,” Roshan nodded.

“You assume correctly,” Eithne said forcefully, her voice hard. “Somebody was stealing scrolls, selling them on the black market. It turned out to be a young scion of the Crystalis aristocracy, trying to finance their drinking habit,” Her tone was bitter. “I was new, and he was connected. They had every proof outside of catching him in the act, but still they blamed the theft on me. Someone who felt guilty about the lie came to tell me, and I left before they could arrest me, or worse. On my way, the only help I received was from a Resistance fighter,” Eithne let out a long sigh, and shook her head. “You will hear similar stories from many of the others. The Resistance has given a home to us all, but this life was not one any of us planned to have.”

“I’m sorry that I never asked before,” Roshan said, holding her arm a little tighter. “I’ve been so focused on my research, I have neglected to really get to know anyone.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Eithne replied, releasing his arm. “Most members of the Resistance are content with leaving their past behind them.” Stepping away from him, she unlocked the double doors to the library. According to the locals, the Don had arrived in Alsce more than 15 years ago and converting the villagers to his cause (the story was that he had used Fòrsic weapons to rescue them from a den of bandits lairing in the mountains). Afterwards he had fashioned a two-storied wing to the central lodge, before packing it full of all of the Fòrsic research he had managed to beg, borrow, or steal during his and his soldiers’ travels. Eithne was quite proud of the resulting collection, and rightly so, Roshan thought. Although limited in space, it was packed full of scrolls and books, reaching up to a carved wooden ceiling stretching nearly thirty feet above them. Halfway up, there was a wooden walkway around the edge. There were wheeled ladders at both levels to facilitate reaching the highest of shelves, all of which were made with dark, mountain wood. Roshan thought that in some respects, he preferred it to the great library of Ater-Volantis. That might have been the largest concentration of scrolls and tomes on the continent, but this library had better company.  

Eithne bustled him into one of the plush leather armchairs situated throughout the room and lit several glowlamps before busying herself preparing two mugs of chicory using a Fòrsic cooker and a few sachets she had squirreled away throughout the room. The warmth of the room restoring feeling to his fingers, Roshan tried to get up and help, but she only shook her head and pushed him back down into the chair again. Sitting, he tried to enjoy the languid feeling of warmth overtaking his body, but mostly was preoccupied with how pretty Eithne looked, and how the low light sparked fires in her hair.

Finally, the drinks were ready, and Eithne settled herself down into an armchair near to his. They spent several moments in companionable silence, before Roshan spoke. “You were right about the energy distribution glyphs,” he said, finally.

“Oh?” Eithne arched an eyebrow.

Roshan grinned. “I don’t mean to sound surprised,” he teased. “However, it’s not sufficient to bear the Fòrsic load.  Any other ingenious ideas?”

“What, and rob you of your chance to do your own research?” she asked archly.

“Well,” he replied, “you are a librarian. I would just be… taking advantage of your talents.”

Eithne grinned, “Oh, is that what you call it in Ater-Volantis?”

Roshan blushed, or at least as much as his ochre skin would allow. “I, uh, didn’t mean to, I mean to say I had no intentions of….”

“It is all right,” Eithne reassured him, laughing. She stood up and grabbed a massive, ornate, leather bound tome off of a nearby shelf and dropping it with a heavy thud on the small table between their chairs. “Take advantage as much as you like,” she said with a wink as she flipped the book open. “It’s Focati’s glyph compendium. Undoubtedly there will be some clue in here.”

Roshan bent over the musty pages with a smile. Here, talking theory with Eithne, he had almost forgotten his earlier conversation with Alistair Gaunt. It was a shadow on an otherwise pleasant evening, and if he tried hard enough he could blot out the dark possibilities that shadow portended.

                                                                ----------------------------------------------------

The following morning dawned sunny and beautiful, although Roshan only caught the tail end of it. He had stayed up talking with Eithne until the early hours of the morning, and had only just beat the rising sun to bed. However, as it was a rest day, he could sleep as late as he liked. Their small team lacked the amount of crystals required to test theories every day. Instead, they tested once, or twice at most, every week, leaving him plenty of time between each test to relax, and to refine his current theories on Fòrsic energy transfer. When he was with Eithne, he was usually doing both at once, even if it also led to his staying up far too late. Roshan was housed with other visiting Resistance members in another recently built wing of the central lodge, and it was easy to, after throwing on some old clothes, a pair of stout breeches, and a heavy wool sweater, wander down to the kitchens to scrounge a late bite to eat.

After he was well fortified with freshly baked bread and venison sausage, Roshan wandered through the lodge. He admitted, if only to himself, that he was not sure what to do next. After all, the Don had done nothing beyond make some remarks Roshan had interpreted as mildly threatening. Roshan therefore did not think that any precipitous action on his part seemed a wise idea. Burning his notes and riding off into the sunset in defense of his research seemed righteous enough, but he had nowhere to go and no survival skills worth mentioning. Moreover, he was not even certain if the Don was planning to appropriate his research and use it for his own ends. For that matter, Roshan had produced his theories using the Don’s own materials and with the Don’s backing. If the Resistance had been a socially legitimate organization such as a University, no court would have upheld Roshan’s protest about the perversion of his research. Practically speaking, he had nothing to go on but a vague feeling of unease growing about his work with the Resistance.

Roshan sighed. The only conclusion that he could draw was that he needed more information. The lodge, and the village of Alsce, was the headquarters of the Resistance, and there were many members there who were reporting in or awaiting assignment, and thus had little to do. They tended to congregate in the main hall of the lodge, and it was there that Roshan decided to head.

“Roshan!” Harshun called out in greeting when Roshan entered the high-ceilinged hall. He was sitting with a long-haired blond man from Hascillis whom Roshan did not know, and a pair of dark-haired women from Demiard named Hana and Bira. He hadn’t seen the two of them in a few weeks, and presumed they had been out on a mission. “You’re up late,” Harshun continued. “Keeping Eithne company?” He gave Roshan a lusty wink.

“No, no,” Roshan said, blushing slightly. “I mean, she did pull some interesting runes out of the library for me.”

“I am sure,” Harshun said, smiling broadly. He waved a hand at an empty seat next to Hana and Bira, across from him and the blond man. “Have a seat on the bench, we were just lingering over lunch. “Have you met my friend Sebastian?” he gestured at the man next to him. “He just arrived from Alis last night with Hana and Bira.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” Roshan said, reaching out and clasping arms with Sebastian. “Had you been there long?” 

“Since the end of the summer,” Sebastian replied, sitting back down. His voice was a low, resonant baritone, but his accent reminded Roshan strongly of Rika. “Although some of that time was spent as a… guest of Prime. Hana and Bira here had to get off their comfortable seats at headquarters to come and fetch me.”

“This fool got caught eavesdropping on the city council,” Hana griped. “We do not begrudge him – nothing like a mid-winter jailbreak to get the blood pumping!”

“Did you discover anything?” Roshan asked, curious.

Sebastian shook his head. “Nothing major, but tensions are high throughout the region. Our men--”

“—And women,” Bira added, and Sebastian tilted his head at her in acknowledgement.

“Our men and our women,” he amended, “are riling up the populace in exemplary fashion.”

Roshan nodded. All of this was news to him, but he refused let his surprise show. “The Don’s plan is well underway then?” He asked casually.

“I assume so. The man never shows his glyphs,” Sebastian shrugged, “We’re all here to seek justice, in one form or another. We trust that the Don is leading us towards it.”

“Oh,” Roshan said, trying to keep his excitement about the direction of the conversation from showing. “What brought you all here to the Resistance, if I may ask?” At Bira and Hana’s quizzical expressions, he added, “I’ve been so embroiled in my own research that I’ve realized I don’t really know the specifics of the conflict here beyond the basic ‘us good, Prime bad,’” he chuckled self-consciously, sweat beading in his armpits at the thought that someone might call him out for his ignorance or lack of zeal.

Instead, Sebastian just bobbed his head. “I hear you,” he replied. “We often get caught up in our own tasks and lose sight of the bigger picture. Of course, I assume that is part of the Don’s plan as well, since no one can reveal what they don’t know. Still, it is good to have a general idea.” He sighed, and seemed to be thinking. “For me, I joined when my mother died. My stepfather stole my inheritance, and parceled it out to his own children. Since he was a friend of the village headman, he got away with it, and I was left destitute. Living on the streets with the other orphaned children I met a Resistance recruiter. He,” Sebastian paused and took a breath, “he saved my life.”

Harshun patted his arm. “It’s alright, my friend, everyone here has a similar story. It is what fuels us, each in our own way.”

The rest of the group nodded. However, Roshan was still searching for answers. “It’s why we fight,” he echoed, “but does anyone know why the Don fights? How did the Resistance start? I mean, I have heard stories, but…” he trailed off.

There was a pause, and then Hana said “that’s all there are, really, stories.” She pointed at Bira. “We came here almost nine years ago. There’s hardly anyone still here who predates us…”

“Maybe Syd and Simon,” Bira put in.

“And a few others,” Hana continued. “We’re some of the senior members, but the Don was here for almost a decade before us. Some of the older villagers remember when he arrived in Alsce, but no one knows where he came from. He’s got a slight Volantian accent. I always figured that the Prime had his parents killed or something like that, and things crystallized from there.”

“I’ve never noticed his accent,” Harshun mused. “He’s too fair skinned to be from my city, but he could be from Alis. I thought he was a member of the old ruling class there. The unification of the Alisian and Dakian cities happened six generations ago, but there are some who are still bitter, especially from Alis. With the Prime’s corruption, and the fact that his family used to be Dakian, there is a logical point of contention for someone with the right background.”

“Wait,” Sebastian said. “The Prime is Dakian?”

“Well, not anymore,” Harshun temporized.

Bira clicked her tongue at Sebastian. “You’ve forgotten your history,” she chided. “The war between the nations of Alis and Dak ended with the Dakian sack of Old Alis while an Alisian force threatened Dak. Both sides sued for peace, and Ater-Volantis was created as a neutral capital. The first Prime was of Dak, but he married an Alisian woman to seal the alliance. Each successive generation married the nobility of a different city, so the current Prime belongs to no city, really. Except maybe Ater-Volantis.”

“Ah,” Harshun added, “You forget. The previous Prime married a Dakian man. This Prime is more Dak than anything else. A diehard Alisian might resent that.”

“Phaugh,” Hana shook her head. “You southerners and your grudges. The war was of generations,past,” she shrugged. “I do not know what drives the Don, but it’s not a dispute that has been over for more than a hundred years.”

Roshan shook his head too, lost in thought while the others continued to argue back and forth. Sebastian’s story, and Hana’s and Harshun’s theories had filled in some missing pieces, but there was still so much he did not know. The mantra of the Resistance was ‘Justice for the Overlooked.’ Everyone here seemed to agree that the only way to achieve justice was to overthrow the Prime, or at least to create enough unrest to force him to make serious concessions. It had all seemed so straightforward in Ater-Volantis, but now he found himself questioning everyone’s motivations – even his own.

Chapter 17 can be found here.