The Reach Between Worlds (The Arclight Saga, Book 1) (14 page)

The Trial Begins

Trial Day began like any other. Taro got breakfast in the mess hall and played a relatively short game of Hilto with Pipes. Despite his often simplistic demeanor and penchant for getting into trouble, Pipes had an incredibly keen mind.

This manifested in ways outside of Hilto, most notably in Pipes’ skill at making various small constructs. The tiny birds didn’t have a long life to them, some only survived a few hours, but the fact that he could will his templar into an inanimate object was a skill that even most magisters couldn’t do with his ease or grace.

The recruits were told to report to the airship hanger on the thirtieth floor. There was a single ship hovering inside; it was much like a wooden sailing ship, but its sturdy wooden frame was braced with metal supports. Its engines and much of ventral fuselage were tempered Crissom Steel, and steam bellowed from the engines like dropping a hot iron rod into a pool of ice water.

They were shuffled aboard by Magister Briego and told to wait in the cargo bay. Taro struggled not to throw-up from the constant swaying of the ship, or get crushed by the shifting crates.

He peered through a tiny porthole in the curved wall. The prep crews were hard at work unlatching the mooring lines.

Ven sat with his back to a wall and cleaned his inscriber with a metal brush. “Guesses on where we’re going?”

Pipes fiddled with one of his tiny hummingbird constructs, and twisted its wing into place. “No way to know until we get there.”

The wheel on the cargo bay door spun and it creaked open. Magister Ross entered carrying a smooth stone sphere about the size of her fist. The recruits’ first instincts were to hurry to attention, but she ushered them to remain sitting.

“There are many types of magic in the world.” She stood in the center of the cargo bay, and the recruits scooted into a circle around her. “Magisters devote our lives to understanding it, but the truth is that we’ve barely scratched the surface. Take this, for example.” She held the stone orb out in front of her. “Can anyone guess what it is?”

The sphere had no writing on it. There were a few evenly-spaced notches running in an oblong curve around the center, as if it was actually two pieces stuck together.

The room remained silent.

“Make an effort to answer,” Ross said.

Pipes spoke first. “Some kind of sundial? The notches could be for telling time.”

“A fair answer, but no.”

Yoresh raised is hand. “Lor poru dashuri raheel?”

Ross shook her head. “No, no, not even close. In fact, this is a map.”

The sphere rose into the air and the sides separated, exposing clicking gears and crystalline inner workings. The sphere projected a moving image of the Magisterium tower in stunning detail. The image turned and panned along one of the roots.

“This is the magic of the Old Gods. One small part of the wonders that lie hidden away within the Magisterium.”

Taro tried to touch the glowing lines floating over him, but his fingers passed through them.

The image circled around one of the Magisterium roots and zoomed in onto a set of crumbling ruins surrounding it.

“These ruins are a part of the original structure,” Ross said. “They’re built around Waystations wherein heat from the earth is converted into energy for the tower. Years ago a blizzard damaged the root that runs through this particular Waystation and a team was dispatched to repair it. Only one man made it out alive. Their ship — the
Titan
— remains there to this day.”

Pipes turned paper-white and dropped his construct.

The projection centered on a ruined archway. “This is the landing site of the
Titan
. Inside the nearby Waystation is a chamber with a rather powerful defensive artifact that prevents our repair crews from entering. Your mission is to retrieve the artifact.” The sphere closed and the projection disappeared. “Those of you who wish to quit now may disembark. The rest of you, join me above deck.”

Ross left with the door open and Pipes scurried to the back wall.

“We’re not letting you back out of this,” Ven said.

Pipes was hyperventilating. “You don’t understand. My dad told me what happened down there. The things he saw...”

They had to drag Pipes above deck. The ship took off, and wind wisped across the deck like tiny razors. Ross stood on the stern near the captain’s cabin holding a tied-off velvet sack.

She did a quick count. “Fourteen of your peers have given up.” She took fourteen stones out of the bag; seven were painted white, seven black. She shook the bag and ushered each of the recruits to retrieve one of the remaining stones.

Taro got a black stone. As did Ven, Suri, and Pipes. Sikes and Yoresh got white stones. The teams were even at twenty each.

“White Team will be dropped in the north,” Ross said. “Black Team will be dropped in the south. The team that returns to Endra Edûn with the artifact is the winner.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Pipes said.

“The chance to back out has passed, Mr. Crissom,” Ross said. “And be wary of your teammates, boys and girls, because either your entire team passes or none of you do.”

“What the hell?” Ven shouted. “That’s bullsh—”

“Instead of wasting your time complaining, you should be strategizing with your team,” Ross snapped. “We’ll be at the drop point in five minutes.”

Taro wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “Drop point?”

The
Eventide
followed the root of the Magisterium for miles, and left a long trail of white steam in its wake. Near the ruins was a circular patch where the snow had melted, and the fuselages of seven airships lay in the clearing besides mounds of metal scraps and pools of bubbling oil.

“What’s that?” Taro asked.

“A junkyard for old airships go to die,” Suri said.

The recruits were given packs with meager rations, rope, and a few tools. In addition, they received a tiny metal box with exposed gears that ticked like a clock; on the side was a finger-sized groove.

Taro recognized the runes from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place it.

Suri immediately knew what they were. “Gravidic magistry,” she said.

“Correct,” Ross said. “These will allow you to fall at a slower pace. Count to three and press into the groove.” Ross tilted her glasses and checked at her pocket watch. “We’ll be at the jump site in forty-five seconds.”

The teams lined up on the port and starboard sides of the ship. Taro looked over the edge at the rolling landscape, jagged rocks, and ice fields below. In the distance, the Magisterium towered above the landscape. Its roots spanned in every direction, going through canyons, mountains, and rivers.

Taro felt like he was going to pass out.

Ven took the choice away Taro. He grabbed him by the wrist and pulled Taro over the side. The wind ripped them apart and they tumbled out of control. Taro’s prosthetic kicked Ven so hard that the gravity reducer flew from his hands.

Taro looked up at the
Eventide
speeding away, and down at the ground fast-approaching. Beside him, Ven was panicking.

“Grab hold!” Taro shouted. Ven reached out and took his hand.

“One,” Taro said. The boys spun and the air currents threatened to pull their arms out of their sockets.

“Two.” Taro clenched the gravity reducer tight.

“Three.” Taro closed his eyes and pressed down. There was a tremendous rush of air and their decent slowed, but they were still falling much faster than the others.

“It can’t take two people,” Ven said.

“Then this is going to be rough, hold on!”

They smacked into snow and tumbled wildly into the side of an icy ravine. Taro’s brain rattle in his skull. The world spun, his bones ached, but he was alive.

The other recruits gently touched the ground and ran to help.

“Are you alright?” Suri asked, patting him down and checking his limbs.

Taro tightened the straps on his prosthetic. “Spectacular.”

Ven rubbed his shoulder. “Oh, I’m fine too Suri, thank you for asking.”

“I knew you’d be okay, I saw you land on your head.” Suri helped Taro up and brushed the snow off his back. “We need to get inside or we’re going to freeze to death.”

The end of the Magisterium root was enormous. They marched towards the ruins through two feet of snow. Taro struggled to keep up with the others and Ven kept a slower pace so the group wouldn’t overtake him.

One particular section of the ruined walls had huge holes, and the recruits climbed inside. As they trekked through the structure, it got gradually darker. The tiles on the floor were weathered and cracked. Most of the pillars were in pieces, and the only thing holding up the vaulted ceiling were aged pillars.

They walked for over an hour, deeper and deeper into the ruins. Crumbled statues littered the ground, and faces and eye stared up at them from the soles of their feet. This didn’t seem to be natural wear, it was like someone had taken a sledgehammer to every one of them.

Taro picked a marble shard up and brushed the ice crystals away. “We’re not the first ones here.”

“Ross said as much,” Suri said.

Taro shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I found something,” Ven called from around a bend in the hallway.

It was an enormous stone door, and seemed to be the only part of the structure completely intact. There were no hinges or knob, and it was wedged so tight into the wall that you couldn’t stick a pin between them. The door was decorated with flourished script and long glowing lines running from a circle at the top. The faded paint on it suggested it had once been vibrant shades of green and gold, but was now faded gray.

Taro traced his fingers along the ridges. “Maybe there’s a switch or a latch.”

The recruits searched every inch of the door and walls, under every rock and behind every cracked pillar. They tapped, knocked, and kicked, but the door didn’t budge.

Taro put his ear to the stone. “I can hear something behind it.”

Suri did the same. “I hear it too. Like... clicking.” She ran her hand over the writing. “Can anyone read it?”

Nobody could. Suri took a piece of paper and an oily chunk of wax from a small pouch and pressed the paper against some of the words. When she did, she got a crude impression of the words and black wax smeared onto the door.

“Doesn’t matter. We can’t open it,” one of the boys, Rayen, said. “We should keep going.”

The others agreed and they continued further in. Suri stared at the imprint as they walked.

Taro walked closer to her to get a better look. “It looks almost like Deific.”

“It’s definitely Deific, just an old dialect. Half of these symbols aren’t used anymore.” She pointed to a word. “I think this means ‘light.’”

There wasn’t another door for two hours. Pain surged through Taro’s leg; the fall had affected him more than he’d first thought, but he didn’t want to be the weak link in the group.

When the team made it to another room he practically collapsed onto the ground. There was another door here as large as the first.

On the door was the black paper-outline. It was the same one Suri had made earlier.

“We’re going in circles!” Ven pounded his fist on the stone door.

Taro was just happy to get a moment to rest. He set down his pack and fished around the meager supplies. A canteen of water, some dried fruit and meat. A length of rope, a knife, matches, and a hand-held spade.

The others did the same and counted off what they had. They were all similarly situated, though a few of the packs had unique items. Taro’s was the only one that had a spade; some others had a compass, a chisel, or metal bowls.

“Four days’ worth of food,” Ven said. “Maybe seven if we ration well.”

Taro scooted his back against the wall, and when he did, he stuck his hand into a something wet. It looked like reddish mud and smelled strongly of ammonia.

“You doing all right?” Ven asked.

Tarp wiped the warm muck onto the dirt. “Fine. Just happy to rest.”

“If we’re going too fast, just tell us, we’ll—”

“I said I’m fine,” Taro snapped.

“I didn’t doubt it.”

Ven and some of the other recruits went around the room ripping dead, frozen vines from the walls. They gathered them into a pile.

“You’ll never be able to light those,” Ven said. “The wood’s too wet.”

Suri drew a triangle around the wood with her inscriber. “I learned this little trick after getting stuck in that bog during last year’s trial.” She pressed her fingers to the ley points and the triangle glowed. Steam rose from the wood with a great hiss.

Taro picked up one of the vines: it was dry as a bone. “Nice.”

They warmed bits of food over their fresh fire, rested their legs, and inspected the stone door more closely. Ven and Pipes lead small teams through the halls looking for any bend or room they might have missed, but all paths lead back to the stone door. Five hours later they were no closer to getting past it.