The day after passed by in perfect mundanity. Herdis spearheaded their trip about town, making most of the suggestions for stops and explorations. With an entire day to explore a moderately-sized town they moved about rather languidly. Ayna supposed Herdis was relieved to be away from the strange dread that had hung over the dig, and Bers still carried that odd distraction that had been with him lately.
And Ayna herself... well, she managed a surface-level enjoyment at it all, but recent events were always right beneath, creeping into her awareness whenever she wasn’t occupied with something.
But a simple, directionless tour with comrades was never a bad thing. They took in some of the town’s bigger, more impressive buildings; temples and dwellings of richer families. They enjoyed various small meals and refreshments and Herdis continually urged both of them to try something new and different each time. They took in the locals and their culture, like good little tourists. They walked along the docks, just looking them over, and split up for a period while browsing the market.
In the afternoon they came across some sort of public performance. It might have been a holy event, but Ayna felt the atmosphere lacked reverence. A group of people with ribbons attached to their clothes beat on small drums, in between letting our rapid-sounding dialogue.
It wasn’t really to Ayna’s taste, quite aside from the fact that she didn’t understand the language, but they stopped to watch and it was certainly interesting.
Finally, as evening drew near, they retreated back to the hotel, ate together, and then called an end to the day.
Ayna went up to her bedroom right away and lay down.
She reflected on the fact that there was nothing at all stopping her from just staying. In fact, “nothing at all” was exactly what she needed to just continue on with her life in comfort. She could close her eyes and rest, and maybe go on that boat trip with Herdis in the morning.
But she didn’t. Instead she kept herself awake, resting only her body and not her mind, as things quieted down a bit in the building and the streets outside. Then she checked her little pistol and the shock baton, before leaving again by the window.
This time she simply climbed all the way down and walked along the street. The bike she’d quietly rented was where she’d left it; alongside several of its kin. It was a simple little electrical thing, chosen for low price and virtually no sound. Apparently the locals used the type for short jaunts out of town.
It started up with a short whine, then she drove slowly out of town, at which point she killed the headlight and sped up a bit. She wasn’t used to operating vehicles of any kind, and the rough and wild roads of this planet seemed like a poor learning area. But reaching her destination on foot would take far too long.
The wheels seemed to have good suspension, by her admittedly amateur estimation. She gradually gained in confidence as she went along the road she knew so well by now, and increased velocity accordingly. Her eyes caught any intruding tendrils of the growth well in time to dodge them, as well as any holes or bumps in the road.
As aggressive as the growth was, it hadn’t had time to fill in the trail left by the dig day after day, and so she only needed to slow down a little bit as she headed in the direction of the ruins. It didn’t feel like such a long time before she was on top of the rim, looking over the valley.
There down in the centre of it stood those very slightly excavated ruins Dulel had come here for. And there off in the distance were those other ruins. Ayna stared at the latter for a while, but saw no hints of movement.
Perhaps she was too late. Or too early. Or perhaps entirely mistaken about this whole thing. Perhaps she ought to just turn around and get a good night’s sleep.
What are you doing? she asked herself. Why are you looking for trouble?
She ignored herself and throttled the engine again, passing along the rim that Herdis had walked on that first day. It was rocky and dry enough to keep the growth mostly at bay, and she made good time. The larger ruins grew and grew in her vision and were never out of sight, built on elevated landscape as they were. Upon reaching the side that faced them, Ayna continued on a little until she found a reasonably gentle and growth-free slope that she dared drive down at a slow pace.
And finally she faced the growth; thick and mysterious and far too robust to let in her little bike. Ayna made sure to park it by distinctive landmarks, then walked right over the line of the growth. The mutoki.
She reached out and touched a tendril with one fingertip.
The night was not quiet. That idea was one thing that annoyed her so much about fiction set out in nighttime wilderness. Any thriving biosphere was never silent, and the growth was alive with the cycle of mating, feeding, clashes of territory, hunting and dying. Chirps, hoots, whistles, barks and rattlings; unfamiliar and yet not.
This is stupid.
She pushed on, striding into the growth. It required the same ducking and weaving as before, so as to not disturb anything, but she quickly fell into the correct movement patterns.
What a fascinating wilderness, really. It took only a few steps to feel utterly isolated from the rest of the world; alone in a labyrinth of twisting limbs. Ayna was careful to mind her sense of direction, even as the landscape forced her to deviate from a straight path a few times. The ground sloped upwards, gradually getting more steep.
It felt like she was relatively close to the ruins when she came to a section that required actual climbing. Once on top it dawned on her that this was an ancient, elevated road, made by stacking rocks and gravel. The growth had little purchase there, even however many ages later, and it was awfully tempting to just continue along it. The way it curved was clearly leading to her destination. But she left it and continued on through the growth. If there was to be some sort of confrontation, then the road was probably being watched.
Not long after that she started seeing the ruins through the growth. Ayna stopped and focused all of her awareness on her senses. The light breeze on the air wasn’t blowing in her direction, and there was nothing to see or hear other than very old bricks. So on she went, and found that the growth’s tendrils scraped up against the ruin’s outer walls.
Ayna reached out and touched the stone. They were large blocks, held together not by any kind of binding material, but simply by gravity. However sturdy they were, the elements had had a long, long time to wear away at them, and finding holds that her small hands and feet fit into was no problem at all.
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She climbed up, moving every bit as carefully as down on solid ground. Some sort of crackly, moss-like growth had gathered at the top of the wall, but some patience and delicate probing let her find a silent handhold and pull herself up and over.
Ayna knelt down on a walkway and took in the sights. It really was all rather impressive, in a “faded glory” kind of way. And accounting for the fact that the builders hadn’t had advanced technology to work with.
The roof was long gone and Ayna honestly wasn’t sure whether she was on top of a part of a building, or simply a surrounding wall. There were multiple rows of walls to her left and right and in front, piles of rubble, intruding plant growth and a trickling of water from further in. Stone pillars and arches had clearly held up quite a lot of weight once, and were now reduced to silent sentinels.
And further in, through doorways and gaps, she could glimpse faint, flickering lights.
Well, I’ve come this far.
She made sure her hood was in place, then walked along the wall until she arrived at an outcropping wall that served her as a bridge further into the complex. She arrived at what seemed to have been an important room, judging by the size. The partially-standing arches hinted at a high ceiling and carvings were still just barely visible, hinting at past greatness. But the floor was now littered with rubble and ages of plant matter and dirt, and to Ayna’s right the room was split by a crevasse that had opened up at some point, cutting the ruins apart with a five-metre gap.
The light came from small fires, burning in stone basins. They were spread widely about, presumably for maximum illumination, and the fuel seemed to be some of that oh-so available growth. And about eight metres down below, with her back to the chasm, sat Saketa.
Her sword lay unsheathed on the ground before her, and the woman had her eyes closed and took in very slow, measured breaths. It had all the appearances of some kind of meditation, but Ayna felt she still detected tension in her, even from this distance.
Ayna lay down flat on a thick wall and simply observed. The woman had extended an invitation of sorts, and clearly expected someone to respond. And however twitchy Ayna got when seeking entertainment, stealth was the time for patience. And so she waited, and kept her senses on alert.
She didn’t count the minutes, or worry or wonder. She just waited for something, anything, to change.
The first development was Saketa opening her eyes. Her hands clenched in obvious frustration; whatever calm she had been seeking had remained elusive. Then she took up the sword and rose.
The next one came like a cold splash against Ayna’s awareness. The wild fell silent. All the nighttime animals ceased their regular routines of living and simply kept quiet.
Attuned as she was, Ayna felt she sensed why. There was something in the air. That nebulous sense she’d never been able to identify told her that something was wrong. And it put her in mind of that strange death whose aftermath she had witnessed twice now. And judging by the readiness in her bearing Saketa sensed it as well.
The woman simply stood there for a little while. If she was doing anything at all for the next few minutes it was entirely internal. Then she spoke. It was that local language Ayna had heard her use before, and she strode a short distance up and down along the chasm as she spoke. Then she repeated it in Larin.
“I know you have been promised things,” she said, in a stern voice and loudly enough to be heard some distance away. “I know you are angry and that you have been given a taste of power, told it will make you whole. But I promise that it will devour you. You have already committed murder. And for what?”
She came to a stop in the centre of the room, a few steps from the chasm.
“I will give you one chance: Stop. Leave this path you are on, tell me where the wanderer went, and turn yourself in for your crimes. Do this, and I have no reason to strike you down.”
Saketa entered an expectant stance, with the ease of a seasoned warrior. Despite the offer she’d voiced her face was dark, and Ayna sensed violence in the air.
The attack came and was over in a flash and a spray of blood. Ayna’s brain belatedly realised that someone had rushed out of a doorway on the other side of the space, going for Saketa’s flank. The figure fell, and a large knife clattered on the ground.
Then three more came, screaming. One swung an axe at the woman, while another came in with a long staff. The third had another knife and tried to go around. Saketa evaded the axe, but had to parry the staff before she could counter. She landed a kick to the axeman’s midsection, sending him back, then took swings towards both the staff and the knife.
The one with the knife retreated a couple of steps, then kicked at a head-sized rock. It flew towards Saketa like a football. She dodged it, but came under combined attack from the other two. She turned and leapt, clearing the five-metre gap. Then she ran away from Ayna, along the chasm, further into the ruins.
After a moment’s hesitation, the attackers ran back the way they’d come, clearly going for her. Ayna lay where she was for a couple of breaths, then got up and ran down the length of the room, leaping over a rend in the wall.
A shout echoed out among the pillars, walls and rubble. Ayna had just reached the room’s far wall when there was some sort of crackling noise and a flash of light. Another shout followed.
She now ran along the far wall, towards the action. She hopped onto a pillar, then to another, before landing on more wall. She passed the end of the chasm, and then looked down over a flooded little swamp. Water bubbled gently up out of a broken fountain in the centre, and had clearly been doing so for a long time.
A small fire burned in a distant basin, making the whole scene seem bright and stark to Ayna’s eyes. Saketa ran in ankle-deep water, going for a flight of stairs on the other side. Ayna could see the tactical advantage of reaching them, but the one with the knife got in front of her first, moving with shocking speed.
Saketa attacked, but the figure evaded, and then the other two caught up. The staff missed her head, but the axe came closer. They sought to surround her and the woman was forced to stay on the move to avoid that scenario. Splashes of water flew every which way, bright as pearls in the light, even as Ayna momentarily reflected that these people were fighting near-blind.
Saketa came to a sudden stop and feinted towards the axeman. It put him on the back foot for a moment, and the one with the staff went for a lunge. But Saketa went for the one with the knife. The person had their back to Ayna, so she couldn’t see the source of the sudden flare of light. But Saketa’s blade split their head a moment later, putting a stop to it.
She turned on the other two, but was an instant too late. The staff glanced off her head with a solid crack. The axeman then barrelled into her, knocking the wobbly woman down on the wet floor. She had to roll to the side as the axe came down, then do a reverse roll as the staff struck again.
The two worked together, denying her any chance to stand up or strike back. She almost managed it once, but the staff struck her shoulder, sending her back down, and the axe seemed to miss by a hair’s width.
Ayna drew her pistol, aimed for a single breath, then fired.
The light of the plasma streaked across her vision and hit home on the axeman’s upper back with a bit of a burst. He didn’t scream, but staggered as the wound smoked. Saketa got to her feet like a performance acrobat and swung her sword. She evaded a blow from the staff-wielder and struck back, catching them on the arm.
She followed up with a feint, and while that kept the staff-wielder off-kilter she took two quick steps towards the axeman. He tried to bring the axe to bear with one hand, but she split his chest open. Then she turned on the staff-wielder.
They adjusted their grip for one hand as Saketa advanced with a set, grim expression. Her opponent retreated step by step, and screamed with a combination of terror and sheer fury. She lunged. They swung the staff and hopped back.
They went into an opening, out of Ayna’s sight. There was another desperate scream, followed by a splash that had a sense of finality to it.
The night was still for a few breaths, until Ayna heard a faint gasp from the man she’d shot. He lay on his back, surrounded by a swirling mixture of foul water and blood. She looked at the pistol in her hand. She thought she could smell the scorched flesh.
Splashing footsteps preceded Saketa’s return into the room. The woman walked up to the axeman and drove her sword into his heart without any preamble at all. The gasps stopped.
Saketa touched her palm to the wound, then smeared the blood all over the left side of her face. Then she looked up at Ayna.