The Reach Between Worlds (The Arclight Saga, Book 1) (16 page)

Mind Games

While Suri worked hauling recruits back to the ship, Taro and Ven pressed deeper into the Waystation.

Ven held his light up to the cave wall. A half-dozen metal tubes were built directly into the black rock, each of them had a glass case on the front and pulsed with dim blue light.

“These look like power nodes,” Ven said.

The cave rumbled and rocks sifted from the ceiling as they neared two recruits.

“Do you know them?” Taro said.

“Corin and Hunter, second-years.”

The larger boy, Corin, had somehow lost most of his shirt. The cloth hung off, and there was a bleeding gash across the inner side of his arm. It was full of ash and must’ve hurt like hell.

Corin pointed behind them and screamed. “Get down!”

Taro tried to calm him. “It’s all in your head. There’s nothi—”

Before he could finish, something struck him. Whatever it was had enough force to knock him clear across the cave and smash him face-first into solid rock. Blood gushed from his nose and cheeks, and he struggled through his daze to regain balance. He felt bits of rubble falling onto his head and heard Ven shouting.

The massive silhouette of the construct charged at him, but Taro rolled clear and it struck the wall. The cave shook and sparks flew from the energy nodes. They lit up the cave like a bright summer’s day, and the construct came into full view.

It didn’t seem to be modeled after a real animal, but was the close approximation of a cross between a scorpion and tarantula. The outer shell was carved from smooth gray stone, and there was a huge gash on its left pincer; underneath, gears and wheels clicked and spun.

It smashed and snapped wildly, seizing Taro by prosthetic and lifting him into the air. It hovered his body over teeth-like spinning blades and its yellow eyes scanned him.

Maybe it was just Taro’s head injury, maybe it was the deleterious effect of the cave, maybe both, but he swore he heard it speak. It was a metallic, stuttering voice.

“In...tru...der.”

Taro unstrapped his prosthetic and fell to the ground just as the construct’s pincher snapped closed. It would only buy him a few seconds as there was no way he could get away on one foot.

Taro’s list of useful magistry was thin. The only enchantment that might have some effect would be a dispel to disable the machine’s casing enchantments, but even that was a long shot. It was one thing to perform magistry or templary while relaxed, it was quite another to perform it on a moving target that was actively trying to kill you. More to the point, the construct was created by the Old Gods, making a dispel powerful enough to counter its enchantments might’ve been impossible.

Ven threw rocks and shouted to get the construct’s attention, but it seemed dead-set on finishing Taro first. Taro retrieved his inscriber from his pocket, and when the construct came at him again, he grabbed hold and climbed onto it. It spun and slashed at him, cutting his back and arm. Taro held on for dear life and etched his dispelling ward into its back plate. He placed his hands on both sides of the inscription and the lines glowed, but nothing happened. The construct thrashed and threw Taro across the cave. His back struck a power node and his inscriber tumbled from of his hand.

The construct lurched forward and its eyes focused in on the inscriber. Its huge pincer lifted it from the ash. “Arrrriiissss.”

The construct was now only a few feet from him. He had few precious seconds to think, and the sparking power node beside him caught his eye. It had been cracked open and bare cords hung out.

Using his sleeve as a glove, he grabbed the base of one of the live wires and jammed it into the construct’s damaged frame. The force of the shock blew the gears from the opening, and lashed Taro’s hands and arms with arcs of raw electricity. Simultaneously the construct’s glass eyes exploded and Taro’s thin body was struck down like he’d been struck by the hand of God.

The construct slumped to the ground, dead.

Taro couldn’t breathe for a full minute. Every nerve in his body felt like it’d been fried, and there were long black burns across his arms, hands, and face.

Ven appeared over him, checking his pulse and telling him to breathe (as if he wasn’t already trying). Finally, hot air filled his lungs and his coughed up a half-quart of blood.

“I can’t believe you survived that,” Ven said.

“I survived?”

“Apparently. Despite this face, I’m not an angel.” He held his hand out. “Can you sit up?”

Taro rolled onto his side. “I think I’ll just lay here for a few minutes, or a month or two.”

“I’ll carry you back to the
Titan
. Whatever’s affecting the others is going to start affecting us too if we stay.”

“I need my leg,” Taro said.

Ven retrieved it and Taro latched it back on. The runes were severely damaged from where the construct had grabbed it, and it felt like little more than a hunk of wood.

“We need to find Sikes,” Taro said. “He’s the only one left.”

“The Helian kid? I’ll find him after we get you back with the others.”

“I’m fine.”

“That might just be the stupidest thing I have ever heard. You are most certainly not fine.”

“Get Hunter and Corin back. Sikes’ my friend. I owe him.”

Ven sighed and collected Corin and Hunter. “As soon as I drop these two off, I’ll head back.” He slapped a large rock from Corin’s hand that the boy was gnawing on. “That’s not food.”

Taro cracked his back and pressed on, limping the whole way. He came to a seven-way fork in the cave he recognized from Ross’ workshop, and knew the artifact would be on fourth one from the right.

From this point the cave transitioned into a room very similar to many in the Magisterium. On the right side were racks with replacement parts for the construct, and on the left were maps of the Waystation and complex blueprints overlaid with Deific writing. These were projected into the air with beams of light.

On a raised dais in the center of the room was the artifact, a smooth metal cylinder with a crystal case. Every few seconds it would pulse, and whatever energy was radiating from it made Taro’s head ache. The closer he got to it, the worse it got.

“What are you doing, Taro?” a familiar voice called from behind him. There, in a tattered sundress, was his mother. She looked more sickly than ever. “Why are you still here?”

Taro ignored her. When he turned back towards the artifact, his father was standing in front of him. His face was covered rotting flesh. Taro took a deep breath and walked directly through the image. The voices continued in his head as he examined the artifact. They taunted him, told him to stop, to run, but he tuned them out.

He checked over the artifact, looking for anything that might deactivate it. It was clearly the source of all this, but there was no obvious ‘off’ switch.

He managed to unlatch the top half off and expose its inner workings. Multi-colored crystals lined the sides, connected with thin clear wires and copper fixtures. The runes inside were unlike anything Taro had ever seen.

The voices continued as he worked, but one voice stood out as different from the others. This one was real, and belonged to Sikes who was standing at the entrance. He was bleeding from his wrists.

Sikes raised his arm and touched the bleeding gash. “It’s too much to handle, Taro” He flashed a serrated piece of metal with his other hand.

“Put the knife down,” Taro said gently.

“Why?” Sikes said.

“Whatever the problem is, it’s all in your head.”

Sikes rubbed the side of the metal with his bloody finger. “All in my head?”

“That’s right.”

“Was being locked up for two months all in my head?”

“Sikes, please.”

“You abandoning me — was that all in my head?” He voice got progressively louder as he spoke. “The beatings, the cracked skull, the broken ribs. Was that all in my head you son of a bitch?”

“Please,” Taro said. “Just put the knife down.”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Sikes flipped the knife in his hands like he was going to stab himself.

There was no way Taro could get to him in time.

At that moment, nothing else mattered. He didn’t care about bringing the artifact back. He didn’t care about passing the trial. He smashed the artifact on the dais has hard as he could, and it shattered. The crystals flew across the room and the pieces crackled and smoked.

The artifact pulsed one last time like a shockwave, and knocked Taro onto the floor.

The last thing Taro saw before his eyes went dark was Sikes’ silhouette standing over his beaten, bloodied body.

For the Uniform

Taro wasn’t sure he was alive. His eyelids cracked just enough to see shadows moving around him and his arms and legs felt like they weighed a ton. He groaned and a figure rushed to his side.

“He’s awake.” It was an older woman, a nurse from the looks of it. “Bring him some water.”

Taro was in a long room with tall, slanted windows. Rows of hospital beds sat in alcoves along the wall, separated by curtains.

“Where am I?” he asked.

The nurse wet a rag in a bucket of ice water and placed it on his forehead. “The infirmary. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Sikes—”

“Is in better shape than you.”

Taro realized he was missing his prosthetic. “My leg. What—”

“I’m not sure what happened to it, I’m afraid.” The nurse changed his bandages and gave him a god-awful concoction of herbs and mineral water. She then lathered a gray paste over his burns.

The double doors at the end of the infirmary creaked open and Ven peaked inside.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “Are visitors allowed?”

“I suppose. Just don’t excite him too much.”

Much to her astonishment, the doors opened and recruits flooded to Taro’s bedside. Each of them were dressed in full artificer uniforms, blue with silver trim, a short over-cloak, and a single silver shoulder pad.

“That was incredible,” Corin said.

“Did you really take down that construct by yourself?” Edrin said.

Ven extended his arms and pushed them back. “Give the man some breathing room. How’re you feeling, Tar?”

“The medicine’s helping.” Taro rolled his shoulder and stretched.

“Ross is furious,” Ven said with a wide, wicked grin.

“Did we do something wrong?”

“I’d say so. The entire year passed the trial, and made the magisters look like a bunch of idiots.”

“What do you mean?”

“The goal of the trial was for one of the teams to bring back the artifact. They didn’t plan on both teams returning. You may have broken the artifact, but it working was never a requirement.” Ven pointed to a single line tattooed above his wrist. “We’re all artificers now.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Almost a week,” Suri said.

Taro couldn’t believe it. “A whole week?”

Magister Ross appeared in the doorway and cleared her throat. She held a package under her right arm. “Melinda, I wasn’t aware that this many visitors were allowed in the infirmary at one time.”

The nurse dropped what she was doing. “I didn’t see any harm.”

“Disperse,” Ross said. The boys and girls left in a hurry and Ross strolled to Taro’s bedside and set the package on the foot of his bed. “I thought I’d bring you your uniform in person.”

“Thank you.”

“Quite a show out there. We were monitoring your progress the entire time, of course. Interesting that you knew exactly the path to take to find the artifact. You didn’t even hesitate.”

Ross stared down at Taro like he was something she’d scraped off his boot.

“I just had a feeling.”

Ross took a seat and crossed her legs. “What’s particularly interesting is that I had reason to believe someone had been snooping around my workshop.”

Taro stared right back at her. “I imagine your office has enchantments to keep that from happening. Beyond anything a recruit could break.”

“Recruits can be full of surprises.”

“Something tells me that if you had any proof, we wouldn’t be having this pleasant chat.”

“I’m not here for accusations, Mr. Taro. In fact, I commend your tenacity. However, I couldn’t help notice your handicap.”

Taro peered down at his missing foot. “Your point?”

“So defensive. I merely mean that we can’t have an artificer on crutches. Kyra has been hard at work constructing you a suitable replacement. When you’re well enough, pay her a visit.” Ross stood. “I hope you enjoy your celebrity status. You can be sure that I’ll be watching you very closely, Mr. Taro.”

With that, Ross left and the nurse breathed a sigh of relief.

“A gem, that one,” she said.

“Do I have to stay here for long?” Taro asked.

The nurse checked his bandages again and examined what was left of his burns. “The rub’s working well. If you can promise to come back once a day for the next three days, and to keep your bandages tight, you can go now.”

The nurse brought him a crutch and helped him up.

Ven was waiting alone outside the infirmary doors.

“Eavesdropping?” Taro said.

“Me? Never. Although it does sound like Ross has you pegged.”

They walked together towards the Artificium. A dozen yards in his crutch got caught on one of the gears in the floor. Taro yanked it out. “God, I hate these things.”

“Do you need help?” Ven said cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure it would offend.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I promised Suri I’d meet her at the Librarium in a few. Are you sure you’re all right on your own?”

Taro waved him away and continued to the Artificium alone. Tucked in one of the work alcoves was the iron-braced chasse of an airship turbine. Around the edges were cabinets and drawers in various stages of clutter. Kyra was hanging from a crane with a pair of goggles on, welding one of the turbine fans with her bare fingers. The raw templar required for such an act made Taro’s head spin. When she noticed him, she lifted her goggles onto her forehead and lowered to the floor.

“Would you look at that, I get a visit from the Magisterium’s newest celebrity.”

“Imperator said that you had something for me.”

“And so I do.” Kyra wiped the soot off her cheek and hurried to one of her worktables. On it was a metal prosthetic with a deep groove in the top where Taro’s leg would fit in. The base foot and heel were joined by a spherical hinge that allowed full freedom of movement, and could also do something Taro’s old prosthetic had never been able to do: tilt and turn.

“Take a seat,” Kyra said. She cleared a chair off of wrenches and bolts, rolled it up to the worktable, and loosened a bolt at the top of the prosthetic.

“It looks heavy,” Taro said.

“It is a bit heavier than your last one, but you’ll get used to it.” Kyra pointed to some small flexible needles in the groove on top. “These pins will tie it directly into your body.” She talked idly while she set the prosthetic up. “Some show out there. We were all watching.”

“How?”

“We had have our ways. This trial was more one of circumstance. That construct has guarded that Waystation for a long time. It used to be a peaceful protector. Recently, it was damaged — nobody is sure how. The damage somehow allowed the artifact to affect it.”

“It went crazy.”

“In a manner of speaking.” Kyra finished tightening the bolts on the side, and propped Taro’s leg up onto an ottoman.

“You made this for me?” Taro asked.

“Briggs had a similar version, though I’ve made some significant upgrades. Slip your leg inside.”

Taro did so and Kyra placed her hand on a lever on the heel.

“You’re going to feel a pinch as the nerves connect. Ready?”

“Ready.”

When she pulled the lever down Taro felt the pins pushed through his skin. The pain was sharp, but lasted only a moment. When it was gone, Kyra motioned for him to stand.

Taro could hardly believe how light it felt. He tested it out, tilted it forward, and finally walked.

“How fast can I go with it?”

“As fast as your body can take it,” Kyra said.

Taro walked, ran, and jumped around the workshop before finally stopping just in front of Kyra and hugging her so tight he lifted her off the floor.

He quickly set her down. “Sorry.”

Kyra laughed. “It’s okay. A lot of people have that reaction.”

“It’s just... I’ve never been able to really jump before.”

“Remember to oil it once a month, and tighten the side pins regularly as they’ll loosen from normal wear and tear. If you have any problems with it, come back for maintenance. Got it?”

When Taro got to the mess hall he was bombarded with praise the moment he stepped through the door. He grabbed a tray of steamed vegetables and honey ham and sat beside Yoresh.

“What do we have here?” Yoresh said, and inspected his new prosthetic.

“Kyra made it for me,” Taro said.

Sikes wasn’t far off, and was doing his best to shuffle a deck of cards, but his hands were bandaged up to his forearms.

Taro moved closer to him, and they sat in silence for an uncomfortably long moment.

Sikes spoke first. “I guess you expect me to thank you.”

“No.”

“The magisters were furious that you broke the artifact. You could’ve been expelled for it. What would Dr. Halric have done to your family then?”

“You are my family.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Sikes said.

Taro got up to leave, but Sikes stopped him at the last moment. “...thank you.”

Sleep came easy that night. Easier than it had in months. Nima was safe and sound, his trial was over, his new prosthetic was a dream, and mending things with Sikes no longer seemed impossible.

It wasn’t to last.