Reunification (20 page)

As it transpired, however, my caution was
unfounded, for when I crawled out of the cave and stood up to my
full height, I did not see any living being for as far as mine eye
could see. I saw rock and sand, jagged cuts in the earth that were
most likely caves like mine, rock pillars here and there, and much
else besides, but no life.

I now understood why the Xeeonites
referred to this part of their world as the Dead Lands. For it
truly was a land of death; there was not even a scrub of vegetation
to be seen anywhere. That worried me, for if there truly was no
life here, then that meant there was no water, which meant my
parched throat would only get drier and drier as time went on.

And the heat! Oh, by the Old Gods' thirty
names, the heat! It had not seemed quite so hot earlier, when
Resita and I had escaped the Destroyer, but now, the heat was nigh
unbearable. It was oppressive, beating down on me as a butcher
prepares his meat. The heat seemed to make my stink worse, for now
I could smell it as freshly as ever, and it made me gag, which with
my dried mouth was a horrible sensation.

My feet burned when they stepped out of
the shade, forcing me to return them to the coolness of the shade
quickly. I still had no shoes I could wear to help me cross the
burning land; however, I could not simply stand here, either, for
Resita needed my help, in addition to the heat of the sun being too
hot for me to ignore.

Hence, I would simply have to bear it,
like a true Knight of Se-Dela. That would not be very fun, perhaps,
but when I considered that mine only two options were essentially
to stand here and die or search for Resita and possibly live, I
decided that the second option made more sense.

Besides, it wasn't as if I would be
wandering around the Dead Lands with no sense of direction. The
trail of Resita's feathers would guide me, for I could now see that
it went all the way toward some nearby hills. It appeared to go
beyond those hills, though to where I did not know; therefore, I
decided to go check.

So I gathered my courage and resolve and
walked out on the hot earth and in the burning sun. 'Twas
difficult, for without any water to drink, my parched mouth became
even harder to ignore than before, and of course, mine feet kept
burning on the hot ground.

Nonetheless, I did not yield to my pain. I
followed the trail of feathers without trouble, though I had to
avoid the rocks on the ground, for they were still sharp enough to
cut me if I was not careful. That slowed mine progress somewhat,
but not significantly, for I did not know how much time I had left
in which to save Resita.

As I had observed before, the feather
trail led to a group of hills several dozen feet from my cave. I
did not recall seeing those hills yesterday; however, that was
likely due to the fact that we had been in a hurry to escape the
Destroyer, and therefore had had almost no time in which to observe
our surroundings in detail.

These hills did not look like Delanian
hills to I, however. They rose like the humps of omas, with sharp,
tall rocks rising out of them. 'Twas an odd sight, for the hills
appeared to have been tall rocks covered with dirt, though whether
that was the case or not, I could not tell.

Aside from Resita's sludge-covered, stinky
feathers, I saw no sign of anything that might have lurked in those
hills. I did not hear anything, either, though when I thought about
it, I realized that I did not hear any sounds in the Dead Lands,
period, aside from the sounds of my footsteps against the sand and
my own breathing.

And it was not a good silence, either, but
a dead one, like the kind of silence ye find in a graveyard.
'Twould have made me shudder under normal circumstances, and
indeed, I did feel a slight shiver run up mine spine, but I tried
not to focus too deeply on it, for I did not want to allow my
nerves to overwhelm my critical thinking skills.

Besides, slowing down would mean that my
feet would have to rest on the hot sand a little while longer. That
thought alone propelled me forward quickly, or as quickly as I
could without stepping on any of the sharp rocks poking out of the
ground, anyway.

Nonetheless, I drew my energy knife,
putting my thumb on the tab, ready to use it as soon as any hostile
creature showed itself. Though if it turned out that the Destroyer
was behind this—as unlikely as it seemed, for this did not seem
like something that it would do—then it mattered very little what I
did or did not have on me.

Still, my knife brought me safety and
comfort. Not the same kind of safety as my Knight's sword, but
safety and comfort nonetheless.

Soon, I reached the hills, which were as
bunched together as items packed tightly in a shipping crate. Or so
it felt, for there was not much room for me to navigate among them,
and due to their height, I could not see as much as I would have
liked, which left me open for an attack from whatever lurked within
these hills.

Yet I did not think I would get attacked,
even though I was in the perfect position to be assaulted without
anyone else knowing. The hills were silent, devoid of the sounds of
any creatures, but more than that, Resita's trail of feathers did
not show any signs of a struggle having caused them, which made me
suspicious of my previous theory that Resita had been taken away
against his will.

But that was silly. Why would Resita
willingly leave me alone? Whilst the two of us were not the best or
closest or loyalest of friends, out here in the Dead Lands, we
needed each other. We could not afford to go our separate ways, for
if our chances of survival out here together were slim, then we
were guaranteed to die if we separated.

'Twas a puzzling mystery, to be sure, one
that left me more troubled than anything. Had Resita left me to
die? It seemed a cruel thing to do, if indeed he had done it, but
who ever said that the members of the Foundation were kind or
loyal? Perhaps they were all secretly backstabbing traitors who
abandoned their friends when the going got tough.

I wiped the sweat off my brow as I stepped
over a rock in my path, mine eyes still fixated on the feathers
before me. The heat must have been getting to me; why else would I
be thinking such negative, unfounded thoughts about Resita? After
all, they were nothing more than the basest speculation. There was
likely a better reason for Resita's disappearance, some other
explanation that would make sense of these strange happenings. I
merely had to find out what it was.

The trail of feathers took me deeper and
deeper into the hills of the Dead Lands, hills I had not even known
existed until ten minutes ago. I had seen images of the Dead Lands
before, heard descriptions of it, but none of the images I had seen
nor descriptions I had heard of it had ever even hinted at the
existence of these hills, causing me to wonder why that was.
Perhaps there was still much about the Dead Lands that even the
Xeeonites did not know.

It was hard to think deeply about this,
however, because the heat continued to beat upon me heavily. My
throat was as dry as the desert and my feet burned against the
sand. How I wished for nothing more than a simple pair of shoes;
not anything expensive or fancy. Just something I could wear to
give comfort to my poor feet. And a cup of ice cold water as well,
which was far more important than a pair of shoes, for certain.

Mine thoughts were interrupted when I
heard a sound that I had not heard before. Before I even registered
what this sound was, I stopped, for I was too amazed by the mere
fact that I heard something other than mine own footsteps and
breath to think much about what I heard. But I got over that
quickly enough and listened closely so that I would better
understand what it was.

The sound that played among the hills now
was like a song, but not just any song. Nay, it was a low, mournful
tune, played with what I could only assume were electric
instruments, for I did not recognize the sounds from anywhere else.
It reminded me of the music I had heard in the city parade earlier;
whereas that had been loud and joyous, this was as sad as if
someone of great importance had just died recently.

Indeed, 'twas so sad that I began to feel
depressed as well, though I quickly dismissed the feelings as
nothing more than distractions, for I still did not know for
certain what was making that song or if it was in some way
connected to Resita's disappearance.

From what I could tell, the song came from
the hills to my right, which also happened to be the direction that
Resita's feathers went in. But I did not hear Resita anywhere; all
I heard was the mournful 'music,' if indeed ye could call that
electric noise such.

I slowly advanced in that direction,
thumbing the tab on my energy knife, ready to attack whatever was
playing that music. I had no way of knowing for certain if the
player of that music was a villain or not; however, considering
this was the Dead Lands, I doubted the musician, whoever it was,
was in any way kindly.

Then I peeked out from around one of the
mounds and saw a scene I had not expected to see out here in this
vast wasteland of death.

Resita sat cross-legged on the ground, his
feathery hands on his knees, his back to me, listening to a
strange-looking machine I had never seen before in my life. It was
shaped like a box, square and squat, but it also had a couple of
appendages arising from it, appendages that resembled speakers,
from which the music seemed to be sounding.

Mine first thought was that this was some
kind of robot, but that made no sense to me. For one, it resembled
no robot I had ever heard of or seen, though perhaps that said
little, for I was indeed not an expert in robots. Sir Alart would
know, as he was much more interested in robots than I was, but Sir
Alart was currently back on Dela, too far away from here for me to
ask him even one question about this odd machine before me.

Perhaps it was an automaton. I had heard
of such creatures, which were said to be somewhere between humans
and the highest of artificial intelligences, such as the J series
robots. Sir Alart had once told me about how many robots were in
fact automatons, essentially very simple robots that were not quite
as smart as many of the more advanced kind. Could that be what this
thing was?

I did not know for certain. Whatever this
thing was, I did not understand what it was doing out here or why
Resita was apparently entranced by it. The way he looked at the
machine reminded me of the way that men looked when put under the
sway of enchantresses; indeed, I had a feeling that I could run up
behind Resita and scream loud enough to be heard from Xeeon, and I
would not disturb him from his trance even slightly.

I did not see what was so hypnotizing
about this music. 'Twas like garbage in my ears, this 'music' was,
and I was overcome with a righteous desire to smash that machine
into pieces. Perhaps there was a less violent way of dealing with
the music produced by that machine, but in this blasted landscape,
I would take no chances, especially if this machine turned out to
be a villain of some sort.

While its mournful, electronic noise
blared from its speakers, I pressed the tab on the energy knife,
causing the blade to flare to life. I did not know anything about
this machine or how it worked; however, I did not need to know how
it was put together in order to destroy it.

So I stepped out from behind the mound
and, without waiting for even one moment, dashed at the machine,
raising my energy knife as I did so. Resita did not appear to hear
me coming, for he did not turn to look at me, but that was fine by
me, for he would know soon enough what I was about to do.

The closer I got to the strange machine,
the louder its music blared, but I did not stop or slow down. As
soon as I was upon it, I slashed my knife at its speakers, its hot
energy cutting through the appendages as easily as if they were
made out of butter.

And how did they fly! And with what
colorful sparks! The speakers flew off over my head, while the
sparks from the sliced appendages shot out gold and yellow and red.
One of the appendages shocked me in the arm, causing me to jump
back, but 'twas only for a moment. The appendage fell to the sand,
still sparking, but that was not the end of the spectacle.

For as soon as my knife had cut through
the appendages, the music ceased playing abruptly, like a raven
swallowed by a lion. But it was replaced, not by silence, but by
loud sparking and hissing noises from within the strange machine.
It sounded as if there was some overly large beast trapped within
the machine trying to claw its way toward freedom, which made me
retreat backwards in fear.

As I did so, I heard Resita groaning
behind me and I looked over mine shoulder. Resita was shaking his
head, rubbing his hands against his forehead, perhaps finally free
of whatever terrible spell that that machine had cast upon him.
That did fill my heart with joy and gladness, but that joy and
gladness was interrupted by the sudden abrupt sounds still
spluttering from the machine.

I still had no idea what was about to
happen, but even I could tell that I must have done far more damage
to the machine than I thought, for it was now vibrating as
violently as if the Old Gods had caused a massive tremor to shake
all of Xeeo. Something told me something deadly was about to occur
and that I needed to get not only mine self, but also Resita, out
of this place before it was too late.

So I turned and ran, grabbing Resita as I
passed him. He smelled like sewage and waste left out in the sun,
but he managed to get to his feet fast enough when I grabbed him
and pulled him along. He still seemed confused, however, which made
me wonder just what that thing had done to Resita to leave him like
this.