Paul
Daniel was right. The break did wonders in improving their spirits. Even taking the safer of two or more paths, they seemed to be accomplishing more. They’d perfected their rhythm with frequent stops and good days of hiking. A couple times, they hid to let They-Cared-Not-What pass at Cassie’s direction. But, despite the danger and their greater awareness of it, the days passed easily.
Kenta finally taught Daniel to play Go, and everyone enjoyed books of their favorite genres. Paul liked Fantasies, while Daniel went for Sci-Fi. Rana found some graphic novels, Wendi preferred magazines, Kenta had a taste for biographies of people he’d never heard of, Lea got way too invested in mysteries, and Cassie laughed at trashy romance novels.
On the afternoon of their one-hundred-forty-first day on the road, the ground shook to a steady beat beneath them. They were inside a bubble hall at the time and looked to Cassie as one. “It’s not in here with us; I can’t Hear it,” she said.
:Paul, find it for us,: Daniel sent.
The candle boy raised his hand, pointed over the hills, and said, “There.” As he spoke, one of the hills moved. Pressing against the edge of the red bubble, they examined it from a healthy distance.
Inspection revealed the hill to be a tremendous beast of some kind. Paul thought he spotted fur, scales, and shell in patches covering its thick hide. Six elephantine legs bore it as two scorpion claws menaced the sky. The beast’s lower jaw jutted with huge teeth and exposed gums. Its reptilian skull housed dozens of beady eyes. Its back arched high, and its girth dragged below. Larger than any whale, the beast’s weight would crush its bones and smother its lungs if not for the power of magic.
The beast ambled forward at a crawl. Paul bet it moved faster when chasing prey.
Thankfully, the purple bubble interlock separating them from the larger area the beast inhabited was far too small for the creature to enter. They had a safe point to fall back on in case of emergency.
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Cassie stuck her head out, then reported, “Five minutes to a Terminal, and we have half an hour until the beast arrives. A nice, wide margin.”
Out of habit, Paul took a reading of their paths and announced, “Safety behind us; extreme danger ahead.” The results were obvious, but he’d learned it better to use his ability regardless.
“If we do not make our attempt for the Terminal now, we shall be waiting hours for the beast to pass,” Lea said. “There is no telling what could approach from behind during that span while our escape route is blocked. We have but one sensible option.”
The group ventured forth.
Cautious, they approached the crumbling ruins of an ancient city. Scattered bits of rubble bestrewed the plain. All that remained were brick walls collapsed in places but tall enough to block their view of the Terminal. Cassie sat in Wendi’s other hand, nervous about flying on her own here. They stepped around barriers and through gaps as they neared their goal.
“Does anyone else notice something strange about these ruins?” Daniel asked. Paul looked around but saw nothing he could put into words.
“What are you on about, Daniel?” Cassie laughed, but her voice was tense. “We’ve seen plenty of ghost towns on the road; they’re a dime a dozen in the Wilderness. Nothing unusual here.”
“All the standing walls are parallel,” he said, and the others confirmed it. Daniel had Wendi approach one section to let him point out the details. “They’re staggered between the bubble hall exit and the Terminal. Around the breaks, all the rubble is on one side—the same side for all of them.”
Paul looked closer at the walls, some as tall as twenty feet, each with a hole like someone drove through with a sixteen-wheeler.
“This was a battlefield,” Lea said as she placed a hand on the stone wall.
Then she startled, and they followed her gaze. On the ground by her feet lay a shard of metal. As she bent, picked it up, and examined it, Paul noticed many similar pieces.
“No,” Lea gasped, but she wasn’t talking to him, focused on the shard in her hand. “No… no… no… no…” She muttered under her breath as she sprinted for where the holes led—the Terminal.
“Lea?” Cassie called and flew after her.
Something familiar about these walls filled Paul with mounting dread as he and the others followed.
They were near. Disturbingly near. So near, his inner candle flame wavered in time with the shifting weight of his walking gait. Left, right, left, right, left, right.
They rounded the final barrier to get their first clear view of the Terminal.
Atop it sat the bleached white skull of a huge mammoth. Its gigantic humanoid skeleton lay across the face of the Terminal—blocking all of its circles. The behemoth’s death grip held the massive shaft of a broken hammer, its head shattered into thousands of shards.
Paul had done it again.