> We may be the last. I passed by the old communications hub today and it had dust on it, which made me pause both because it was so odd - and because it is now so normal. Too many of us have died or scattered, fleeing and forgetting as the land slowly withered around us. But for the luck of our monitoring station’s placement we would be dead too, although perhaps in calling it luck I do my ancestors’ foresight a disservice. Still, the array yet holds just as we cling to our surprisingly, dangerously comfortable existence. I write this in the cool shade under the cerein leaves, where my father sat and where someday so may my children. No, so must my children. Our purpose here is too important to be lost like this. The tree provides, the stones protect, and so shall we endure.
>
> Unattributed fragment, early Aejha script on a loose journal page. Handwritten. Royal archives, Ce Raedhil.
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“All right, I’m just going to come out and say it,” Jackie shouted, raising her voice over the roar of the wind and thunder. “This storm is not natural.” In the distance the storm seemed to slow to a halt once more, stilling and quieting until a torrent of lightning erupted from within. The bolt flashed bright enough to cast shadows, pulsing and arcing as it connected somewhere to the south of the city.
“Gee, you think?” Mark quipped. “What tipped you off, the-”
His sentence was drowned out as the thunder spoke with stentorian tones, seeming to leave a lingering vibration in their bones as it passed. Jackie arched an eyebrow at Mark, who shook his head.
“Never mind, that was better than what I was going to say,” he grunted. “I don’t think this changes our plans any, except now we know for sure we’re on a timer. I’m going to guess that we won’t like what happens if we’re still here when it hits.”
Arjun shook his head wearily. “We’re still working on that stack of documents Jyte found, but they’re all fragmented. So far we haven’t found a complete set of coordinates yet - if that’s even what they are.” He looked up at the others, grim-faced. “I’m not giving up yet, but I think you all should know that it’s not looking good so far.”
“I mean, when has it ever?” Jackie pointed out. “Not much we can do but keep plugging away.” Over Gusje’s shoulder she spotted a small group of Aesvain making their way toward them, Jyte at the fore with a short, wiry man by his side. She inclined her head to draw the others’ attention, and soon the two groups were face-to-face.
“Our observers from the fort have returned,” Jyte said without preamble, giving the man beside him a clap on the shoulder. “Ahejet here says the storm has come nearly to the city boundary to Sun’s Height, but it’s moving very slowly - slower than the wind, and not quite in the right direction.”
Arjun frowned. “Well, if there was any doubt about it being an unnatural phenomenon, I think that does away with it,” he said.
“Aye,” Ahejet nodded, furrowing bushy eyebrows. “We’d waited as long as we could before leaving. Long enough to watch a couple blasts of lightning from a good vantage. From what we saw the lightning struck only a few spots, but many times and with great… anger.” He shook his head, looking disturbed. “Every strike we could see hit one of the draam je qaraivat.”
The others exchanged a glance, and Jesse looked pointedly at the prominent warding stone by the edge of the plaza. The stones were built solidly and seemed impervious to wear, but the implication of Ahejet’s report was clear. This was what had destroyed the stones at Tinem Aesvai.
“Well, that answers Vumo’s question,” Mark said. “I guess we wouldn’t have been that much help after all, since I’m not sure what we would have told the folks at Idran Saal that would have gotten them ready for that.”
“How long do we have?” Jesse asked.
Ahejet frowned. “Not long,” he said. “Even as slow as it’s been moving, it’ll be here just after sundown.”
“Appropriate,” Mark said. “Well, shit. We should pull all the people into the gateway hall, keep them close in case we can turn the darn thing on. Probably also good to pull them out of those buildings, this wind picks up more and we’re going to see walls coming down.”
“Agreed, I’d already started rounding up the folk on the edge,” Jyte said approvingly. “Plenty of room inside, and anything strong enough to break the dome would break us well before.”
“That’s the spirit,” Mark deadpanned. “I guess it’s all up to you guys now.” He turned to look at the others, but they had already left for the impromptu research area around the gate.
Jyte grinned toothily at him, then turned to walk back to camp. Mark could already see lines of refugees picking their way through the wind towards the dome, with more arriving in the plaza every second. He watched for a moment, then sighed and went inside after the others.
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“All right,” Arjun said, easing the glowing crystal into the keystone. It settled into its socket with a faint click, and he stepped back with a satisfied look. “So far, so good. Now we just need to test it out.”
“Do we even know how to turn it on?” Jackie asked. “Actually, better question - do we know how to turn it off if we need to? In case we open it up and find a certain grumpy Sjocelym guy with a laser cannon staring back at us?”
Jesse shrugged, walking over to the base of the gateway arch. “There’s a small switch here,” he said. “That seems like the first thing to try.”
“I find it vaguely amusing that we’re guessing our way through teleporter configuration as if it were the clock on our car dash that we’ve forgotten how to set,” Arjun chuckled, moving to stand next to Jesse. “This button, no, maybe that one…” A burst of thunder rumbled outside, sending low vibrations that echoed through the dome.
Mark shrugged and walked over to the keystone. “I mean, worst case scenario,” he said, lifting it with a grunt of effort, “we know you can turn one of these things off with a grenade. They’re sort of a general-purpose off-switch.”
“Yes, but let’s please avoid that if at all possible,” Arjun said. “It’s a minor miracle that the last one exploded on the other side. Presumably the explosion has to be rather close to the keystone, which means it’s close to our keystone.”
“And it’s one of the two cases where close counts,” Jackie said drily.
Jesse moved in to help Mark lower the keystone gently into the hole at the gate’s base. “Careful,” he muttered. “Keep away from the threshold as much as you can. There’s a chance it might turn on when we set this down.”
“Wouldn’t that be convenient?” Mark said, easing it down until the top was level with the floor. The two quickly stepped back, but there was no reaction from the gate. “Huh, well. Guess the switch is in the off position.” He shrugged and scratched his head, then started walking back toward the stacked crates at the room’s perimeter. “All right, give us a second to take a firing position on the arch. If it does open up in Vumo’s office or something I want to be ready.”
Arjun nodded and moved to stand by the switch as Mark and Jesse took positions behind the supplies, crouched with rifles ready. The others moved hurriedly to the side, and Arjun put his hand on the switch.
“Ready?” he called out. “All right - one, two…” He slid the small blackstone toggle to the side with a small effort. Arjun took a step back as it clicked into place and the gate began to hum with a deep, resonant vibration that steadily built in both pitch and volume.
In seconds the whole dome was humming with the noise. Mark and Jesse sighted down their rifles and Arjun took a few more steps back, a huge grin plastered on his face. His smile fell, though, when the humming began to wane. It dropped off quickly and the gate was silent once more.
Arjun sighed. “Well, at least it appears to work,” he said. “Configuration problem, not hardware. Come on, let’s get the keystone back out. Nothing to do now but keep combing through those old documents.”
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The sun was sinking low over the water, and the dusty air had taken on a smoldering orange hue from its rays. Most of the halberdiers had made makeshift masks of their golden cloaks in an attempt to ward against the dust. Despite looking impressive it did little to stop them coughing amid the thickening clouds. Jesse raised his hand in a vain attempt to shield his eyes, blinking furiously at the dust and sand peppering his face.
The dim cityscape was thrown into relief as lightning struck again, close - the storm front had reached the top of the hill, Jesse estimated, or perhaps the near downslope. The thunder struck like a physical blow that rattled through his bones, and the few straggling refugees still in the plaza instinctively ducked their heads. Even after hours of the same, there was a quality of menace to the sound that prevented one from becoming accustomed to it.
And, of course, each peal of thunder was just a little bit louder than the last, a little bit closer behind the flashes of lightning.
They had been working through the stacks of documents nonstop since their first attempt, managing to winnow the pile of muddled scraps into a few promising candidates - but all still incomplete, none usable. Arjun and Tasja had begun arranging them in various patterns on the ground with the occasional half-helpful comment from Tesu, but there was little room for others to work. Mark was cleaning his rifle, Jackie was talking with Gusje. Jesse, feeling oddly stifled in the cavernous dome, had decided to look out into the onrushing storm.
He had only been mildly surprised to find Jyte on the entry steps, firmly guiding a small line of dusty, weeping Aesvain into the hall. He paused when he saw Jesse.
“That’s the last of them, or near enough,” Jyte said gruffly, his voice hoarse behind his cloak. “A few have gone missing. I’d sent my men out searching earlier, but now - well, now we’d lose as many searching and the missing are likely dead.”
He paused for a moment, then looked up at Jesse. “I’d no desire to frighten them, but - the men who were searching nearest the storm said they saw things in the dust,” he said quietly. “Bodies moving in the clouds. The storm is theirs, and they’re coming for us.”
Jesse met his gaze and nodded, then hesitated, unsure how much he wanted to confide in Jyte. After a moment he decided that it didn’t matter much. “She,” he said. “She’s coming for us.”
Jyte raised an eyebrow. “The Emperor of Ash is a woman?” he asked. “I suppose I should be surprised, but in truth it changes little..”
“There is no real Emperor, I think,” Jesse replied. “Vumo said it was just their term for whatever directed the silent ones, they had to call it something. But they were just guessing, just making assumptions to explain what they saw.” He paused. “But they never saw her.”
“But you have, then?” Jyte asked, giving him an evaluating look.
Jesse grimaced. “Maybe,” he conceded. “I don’t really know anything. I could be as wrong as the Sjocelym were about her.”
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That drew a gravelly laugh from Jyte, although it quickly subsided into a coughing fit. “You’d find it hard to beat the Sjocelym there,” Jyte chuckled. “The thought of being wrong is already one they’ve yet to master, so I’d say you’re well set.”
“You really hate them, don’t you?” Jesse observed.
Jyte shook his head. “No,” he reflected, “Not much, though I’ve caught a taste for it since Mosatel fell.” He coughed again, then scratched his chin under the dusty cloak. “The Sjocelym are more… disappointing than hateful, I’d term it. Tinem Sjocel is a rich land, better than Tinem Aesvai ever was - even better than Tinem Setel, perhaps, though it’s hard to say since the Setelym aren’t keen on visitors. They’ve got everything they’d ever need, but they just use it to try and remake the things that broke us.”
“Do your people not use scriptsmithing at all, then?” Jesse asked, frowning. “I understand your position on it, but at the same time a lot of it seems very useful. Essential, even.”
“Oh, we have some,” Jyte said, waving his hand dismissively. “Qim, utelym, hlanem, all the normal sorts. Tija’s will is-” He broke off, looking troubled. “-was that scriptsmithing should be used in service of life. To provide and protect.”
Jesse cocked his head, and Jyte sighed. Under the dust, his face took on a lined, careworn look. “Tija was the boon of our land, like Maja for the Sjocelym. Gone, now. The first thing we’d sworn to protect as goldcloaks.”
The hollow tone of the Aesvain captain’s voice took Jesse aback. “I didn’t know the Aesvain were that devout,” he confessed. “The Sjocelym mentioned Maja often but none of them seemed to particularly… care for Him.”
Jyte rubbed his face, and Jesse saw a darkened smear of wet dust on his cheek. “Part of that’s the Sjocelym nature, and part’s that they don’t know what it’s like. We all felt Him die. Two days after we heard Mosatel had fallen, we’d resolved to go back and make a stand. Early morning, marching in a column in the first sunlight, and then - something changed. Everything was lesser, somehow. We’d no notion what it was at first, just knew it was wrong.”
“When the sky was cloudless and empty from then on,” he said grimly, “when no rain fell, when the wind blew dust and ash, then we knew. We left off marching for Mosatel and set to walking the other way. The land that was Tinem Aesvai is no more than a corpse now, there’s nothing left for us there.” He looked down at the empty, dusty plaza, watching the wind whip the dust past in the hazy and reddening dusk.
Finally, he looked up at Jesse. “You said you’ve seen her,” he graveled, low and harsh. “What does our killer’s face look like?”
Jesse paused, remembering the ragged woman standing at the window. His hand drifted to the grip of his sword, fingers curling tight around it. “She’s like them,” he said. “Withered, dead. But more… intense. Like she’s all of them together, which I think may not be far from the truth.” He looked up at the dim red sky and the swirling dust, listening to the gale groaning through gaps in the buildings. Lightning struck once more to light the haze with actinic and stuttering flares, and the thunder sounded almost in the same instant.
The wind surged forward like a living thing, and Jyte winced against the dust in his eyes. “Damn storm,” he cursed, “I’d at least like to be able to see when I die. Can’t fight like this.” He looked back at Jesse, blinking away gritty tears. “What, does the dust not make it all the way up there?”
“What?” Jesse asked, confused. He looked at the storm, felt the wind rushing at his face - but, he realized, he was looking into the dusty breeze with eyes wide open.
“Jaa tseve, how are you doing that?” Jyte breathed. “It just flows around you like water.”
Jesse frowned and looked down. The wind continued unabated, but the dust parted before him to slide harmlessly to either side. “I have no idea,” Jesse said, puzzled. He reached out to trace his fingers through the dust. “It’s probably another-”
The dust returned full-force, catching him mid-sentence with his mouth open. He doubled over, coughing and swiping grit from his eyes. “Ow,” he complained. “I was about to say, it’s not something I’m doing. It’s something that’s been happening to me.”
“Damn useful something,” Jyte said. “I’d fight one-handed before I’d fight blind.” He shook his head wonderingly. “If you learn the trick of it and feel like sharing, I’d be obliged. Until then, I’m going to take shelter.”
Jesse nodded back wordlessly, still trying to piece together what had happened. He had been standing straighter, looking slightly to the right, his hand resting on his sword. Moving to assume the same posture, he lightly gripped the hilt of his sword.
The dust stopped.
Jesse froze in place, then very carefully closed his eyes and lifted his hand. He could feel the grains of sand peppering his face. He placed it once more on the sword’s grip, and the wind blew only air.
A number of things began to make sense.
“Oh,” Jesse breathed. “Jaa tseve.”
He sprinted back inside, nearly bowling over a surprised Jyte in his rush to the dome. Crowds of Aesvain milled about in close quarters. They did not delay him, however, hurriedly clearing a path for the manic-seeming giant rushing through their midst. The sound of his footfalls echoed off the arched ceiling as he ran, causing Mark to jump to his feet with a wary expression.
“Trouble?” Mark asked, his rifle held ready. “Zombies?”
“What?” Jesse asked, blinking. He was dimly aware that many, many people were looking at him, but for once it seemed unimportant. He tightened his fist on the leather grip. “No, no. I figured it out. It’s the sword.”
Mark looked at him askance. “You been out there just breathing dust this whole time?” he asked skeptically. “Because I’ve gotta say-”
“No, listen,” Jesse said, exasperated. “The sword, I know what it does. It makes her stronger, or lets her do things, or… something,” he trailed off, realizing midway through that he had no idea how to phrase his epiphany. “Look,” he said, walking impatiently toward the center of the dome. The dome kept out the worst of the weather, but a slowly-falling plume of dust was being blown in through the dome’s oculus to collect on the floor around the gate.
“Looking,” Mark said wryly. “Here’s hoping it clarifies more than the listening did.”
Jesse ignored him and stood directly in the dust column, holding his hands wide. Then, slowly and deliberately, he put his hand on the sword.
The dust fell slowly on his head, unaffected.
“Dude, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Mark asked. “It’s all right to be stressed, the whole impending death thing and all, but I think you’re kinda freaking out the Aesvain.”
“Oh, damn,” Jesse muttered. “It’s because she’s the storm. In here it’s just dust.”
“Dude,” Mark repeated. “Seriously. Also, why is your lady the storm?”
“Not her, the other one,” Jesse said absently. “Listen, I think I have an idea that might help us, I just need to sit with the sword for a bit. Not sure how to explain it, just give me a few minutes.”
“By all means,” Mark said slowly. “Sit. Be quiet. Have the sword.”
Jesse wandered off toward a likely-looking crate and sat on it, facing the wall and oblivious to the dome full of dazed, dust-shrouded Aesvain refugees staring at his back. To the side, Jyte entered the dome with a slight limp and scowled over at Jesse.
“What the hell was that?” Jackie asked, bewildered.
Mark looked back at Jesse. “As far as I can tell, he’s overcome his fear of public speaking but only for speeches that don’t make sense. Maybe it’s like those people that sing so they don’t stutter.” He scratched at his jaw, then shrugged. “I don’t know, probably hero stuff. I’ll keep an eye on him, you keep doing teleporter things. Not going to matter how crazy any of us are if we don’t get out of here.”
As if to underscore his point, a titanic blast of thunder shook dust from the roof. The rumbling went on for several seconds, and the refugees huddled together until only the howling wind was audible outside.
“Yikes,” Mark muttered, scanning through the nearby crowd for Gusje. He found her sitting with a small pile of freshly charged crystals, socketing a few into the gauntlet with quick, precise movements.
“Hey, Gusje,” he called out. She raised her head and looked at him questioningly. “Help me clear a path. I want to move the truck closer to the doorway so that if we get any uninvited guests we’ve got a clear line of sight to the entry hall.”
She gave him a quick nod and strode out into the crowd, shouting for their attention. Before long a space was cleared, and Mark positioned the truck so the turret and headlights both had a clear angle down the hallway. As he extinguished the lights he could see the dull, angry red of the storm through the far entryway - the sun was nearly down.
He glanced back into the interior of the truck. It was almost completely empty, the supplies having joined the others they hoped to shove through the gate if the time came. There was an odd sense of desolation, or perhaps abandonment. He gave the steering wheel a light pat.
“Good truck,” he whispered.
A second or two passed, then he opened the door to rejoin the others.
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“Wait, wait, I’ve got it!” Tasja cried excitedly. “This one, right here!” Arjun and Jackie crowded closer to look, with Tesu hovering anxiously a bit farther off. “Do you see it? It’s almost the same as the way we found it. Just this one change here.” He tapped the last number sequence with a finger.
“Yeah, but it’s missing the first two sequences,” Jackie pointed out. “For all we know those are entirely different.”
Tasja’s exuberence quieted somewhat, but he shook his head firmly. “I think it’s like twinplate codes,” he said. “Everything stays the same until the last block, which is the specific code.”
Arjun frowned. “I had ruled out an addressing system,” he said, lapsing into English jargon. “There are too many possible combinations, there’s no need to make the address space that big.”
“Fortunately we can check to see if it’ll work, neatly resolving that issue,” Jackie said somewhat testily. “Admit it, Arjun, it’s as good of a lead as we’re likely to see. Four out of six is pretty good, and what Tasja said makes me wonder if they didn’t print all six on some of these because the first two or three don’t vary much.”
“You’re right, of course,” Arjun said, walking over to the keystone. “At a certain point certainty itself is a luxury. We’ll just have to give it a go.” He bent down to examine the intricate mosaic of metal and copper, locating the correct disc and studying the wheel. “Jackie, do you have a scrap of paper? Doing octal to binary conversions in one’s head is tough under ideal circumstances.”
She rolled her eyes and handed over a scrap of paper with a circle of twelve ones and zeroes. “Already done,” she said.
Arjun took it from her, beaming. “Dr. Hicks, if the occasion ever arises I will give you a positively glowing professional reference. Now, let me see…” He bent over and consulted the paper, then prodded one of the copper-filled segments with a finger. There was a soft click as the copper insert popped out slightly.
He withdrew it the rest of the way, revealing it to be several inches long and devoid of any visible scriptwork, although they had long since learned that was not a reliable way to rule it out. He slid the rod carefully into another segment in the same wheel until it clicked into place, then repeated the process for two more rods.
Arjun stepped back to hold up the paper for comparison, then lowered his arm with a satisfied nod. “There we have it,” he said. “Let’s give it a try.”
As before, the keystone settled into place easily, the bright light of its charged crystal disappearing under the nearly-seamless stone. “All right, everyone,” Arjun called out. “Please stand back a bit.”
He looked at Tasja and inclined his head towards the gate.
“What, me?” Tasja sputtered.
“Your discovery,” Arjun said, leaning in close and lowering his voice. “And besides, if it works they’ll remember you better for opening the gate than for showing up in scriptsmith’s robes.”
Tasja blinked. “A fair point,” he said, taking a moment to steady himself before walking decisively over to the switch. “Maja preserve, I hope this works.”
He moved the toggle into the active position and the gate hummed to life, the noise of its charging resonating through the dome and causing the refugees to shift uneasily. One baby began crying, then two. Tasja looked nervously at the archway, stepping back to stand with the others.
At once, a huge gust of wind tore through the dome. Dust stirred into the air, and several of the refugees began to scream. It took Jyte’s goldcloaks bellowing and striding into the panicked mob to quiet them, and even then they were rapidly losing control.
The gate flashed bright, blinding white, bright enough that for a moment it seemed that lightning had struck through the oculus. When the light faded, however, the interior of the archway was an opaque, inky black.
They peered at it for a second, then Jackie took the flashlight from her pack and pointed it through the gate. It illuminated a long, narrow room wrought from matte-black stone. But for some geometric projections to one side, it appeared to be entirely empty and deserted.
A silence fell over the dome as the crowd began to realize the gateway was opened. “Well, it’s not Vumo’s office,” Jackie said. “Seems good.”
Thunder vibrated through the dome once more, seeming to rock the foundations of the building. The silence was broken, and people started to press desperately toward the gate.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be-” Mark grumbled, raising his pistol and firing through the gate three times in rapid succession. The crowd shied back in a panic, and Mark raised his voice to be heard. From the side of the hall Jesse came dashing toward the gunfire, wide-eyed and sword bare in one hand. He slowed and looked around in confusion when he saw nothing more than the milling crowd.
“All right, listen up!” Mark shouted. “We’re all going through the gate, but we’re gonna do it real nice and orderly-like. All the food and other stuff is in a pile there. You’re going to pick something up and take it through with you. Once you’re on the other side, stay close to the gate.” He paused and scanned the crowd, finally finding Jyte on the periphery. “Jyte, you want to send some folks through first?”
Jyte nodded and gestured sharply to a squad of halberdiers, who formed up in front of the gate and began advancing cautiously through. The barrier at the threshold tugged at their cloaks as they passed, and most of the dust fell away from the cloth to rest at the near threshold.
“Safe!” they called back.
A murmur went through the crowd, and they began to press toward the piles of supplies - in an orderly fashion, after Jyte hammered the butt of his halberd to the floor. Slowly, steadily, a stream of dusty Aesvain took tentative steps through the gate and into the darkened room.
“Holy shit,” Jackie breathed. “I can’t believe we-”
She cut off abruptly as Mark clapped a hand over her mouth. “Not another word,” he groaned. “We’ve talked about this.”