Collision: The Alliance Series Book Three (17 page)

“Yeah,” said Kay. “I doubt we’ll be able to convince many people to accept a piece of offworld tech. They’ll have never met offworlders before.”

Once the platform reached the top, Raj was the first out, while Kay climbed out the back way and, standing near the edge, peered through the branches at the view. The thick clouds masked the sky, and thin rays of sunlight lit up the reddish haze overhead.

“Kay, I wouldn’t stand too close to the edge there,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Did you see anything odd?”

“See what?” I echoed, puzzled.

He shook his head. “Never mind. Probably a bird.”

There
were
a lot of birds at this level, but not the bright-coloured ones I usually associated with images of the rainforest. These were large, cat-sized, and the same burnt red colour as the trees themselves. I jumped as one flew directly overhead, but not a savage three-headed monster.

“The jekath don’t live here,” said Mathran. “The savage birds only live in the mountains. Xanet’s protection lies over this part of the forest.”

That’s why the canopy’s so thick.
But had the forest always grown like this, or had people somehow changed it? Or the deities?

“Who
does
live here?” I asked, as Mathran led us up a staircase made of more interlaced branches. They looked more like they’d grown that way naturally than man-made constructions, and, as we reached the top, I saw the same was true of the narrow branched paths leading between each tree. This whole city lay thirty-odd feet in the air, and it gave me an odd feeling of unreality to see the deserted road below.

“More to the point, why?” asked Raj, head tilted up at the sky, probably to avoid looking down. “What if someone’s born here who happens to be scared of heights?”

That comment earned him another blank stare from Mathran. I was starting to think Vey-Xanethans had a different idea of humour to Earth people. And Zanthan/Klathican people, I guessed, remembering Iriel. She examined a bright-red skein of flowers, her strange blank wired eye whirring.

“Pity about the non-disturbance rule,” she said, poking a metallic-coloured plant with sharp bristles. “These would fit in at Central.”

“Those are used to make weaponry here, as it happens,” said Mathran, pulling out a metal stick like the one he’d thrown at the three-headed bird. Close up, it was identical to the plant’s spines.

“Huh,” said Raj. “Interesting.”

“Xanet gives us what we need,” said Mathran, pocketing the weapon. “Now, it’s this way.”

Like the platform, the bridges between the trees were sturdier than they appeared, but I hurried as fast as possible, like the others. We reached an intersection where a bunch of trees grew close enough together for their branches to form a wider platform, where the tallest of the trees towered far above the rest. Its tip disappeared into the clouds, giving the odd impression of a tower. Shadowy figures moved about inside, visible through the gaps in the bark. And those weren’t the only people. A group of close-knit figures moved across a parallel platform, and as I stared, one looked right at me. A chill went through me, and Mathran hurried us across the bridge.

“Who were they?” I asked.

“Certain summoners patrol in the city, looking out for trouble. Those are aligned with Xanet.”

“Like the police force,” I said.

“Why do police always look at me like I’m about to break the law?” said Raj.

“Guilty conscience,” said Iriel. “Wonder what you’d have to do to get arrested here?”

“Not a word,” said Raj. “I’m
not
getting locked up in the tower. That looks like a prison if I ever saw one.”

The knotted bark did give the impression of barred windows. But Mathran didn’t seem to know the word.
More communication difficulties
.

Mathran led us across the bridges, finally stopping at one which ended in a staircase spiralling down the inside of another hollow trunk. He rapped sharply on a wooden knob, which made a surprisingly loud echo.

A figure appeared on the stairs below, climbing to the top, a bald man with skin like rough, red bark, like the trees, in fact. His gnarled hands made the comparison even more distinct. His clothes were plain and pale-green-coloured, of some kind of soft cotton-like material, though his feet were bare and as burnt-red as the rest of him, curled around the platform like he was used to climbing high places. His eyes, however, were a startling dark green, more like an Earth-forest–it kind of surprised me how quickly I thought of Earth as just one other world, even though it was my home. Guess I was always going to leave it, really.

“This is Kevar,” said Mathran. “He is… what you would call a science-expert?”

“Scientist,” I said, nodding, as he introduced all of us.

We climbed down the trunk of the tree into a room. I couldn’t help staring at the way everything appeared to have moulded to make it comfortable to live in.

Even with the earpieces, introductions were pretty awkward. A number of other men and women hurried around and several teenagers stared at us, wide-eyed. Appearance-wise, however, there were distinct variations. Some were red-skinned, like Kevar, but most had bronze colouring, like Mathran. One’s skin looked so much like rock, I couldn’t help but stare when his hand bumped against the table with a thudding sound as he offered us cups of water. I sipped it gratefully, glad of the hydration.

Rule one of an Ambassador:
don’t stare.
Or Carl’s version, which was “Don’t stare if you want to keep your face the way it is”. And I had enough experience of being gawked at by people on Earth to hold my tongue. That guy must be like Mathran, then.

We all gathered around the raised wooden table, Kevar at the head, in such rapid conversation with Mathran, even the earpiece couldn’t catch every word from Mathran. Someone else offered us refreshments, odd tart-like things with sweet fruit I’d never tasted before. Kind of like strawberries.

As they paused in their conversation, Raj asked Mathran, “What exactly do they study here?”

Mathran spoke to Kevar, who turned to face us.

“I have met your kind before,” said Kevar. “Many years ago. They came here to hear the story.”

“Story?” I said.

“The story of how we came to find this world.” Kevar and Mathran exchanged glances.

“Yes,” said Mathran. “I think this would be relevant to your purpose here.”

“Our old world was dying,” said Kevar. “The stories say humanity had become the playthings of terrible monsters and were in danger of dying out. But one summoner, maybe the first, found a door in the wastelands. He and his companions followed the door through to another realm. When the creatures found out the humans were escaping, they were furious. Battles were fought, and the humans banded together, combined their magic in a way no one ever had before. The result tore open a great chasm between their old world and this one. The survivors were able to cross the chasm to a new world.”

Whoa. I studied the others, who listened intently. I’d never heard of a world in the Multiverse were humans weren’t the dominant species, even worlds they shared with other cross-humans, like Aglaia. The playthings of monsters?

Kevar continued, “But their new country was nothing like their previous home. The continents rearranged themselves every cycle, their old technology did not work here, and terrible things happened when they tried to exploit the planet’s resources. Those who cut the stone were drawn into the earth, buried. Those who tried to cut the trees were taken by the creeper-vines.”

Raj mouthed
holy crap,
while Iriel and Kay looked as taken aback as I’d ever seen them.

“And certain individuals,” Kevar went on, “developed unusual talents. A small group found they could speak to the forces that governed their world, and through carvings, were able to interpret them. They found there were three forces which governed the world. Many, many people were aligned to one of them, and so, the summoners were formed.”

I fidgeted, resisting the urge to take notes. This must be relevant to what was happening now, right? But I’d never heard of actively
speaking
to gods. Still, those magic-creatures came to mind when I thought about magic with consciousness…

“Xanet provided land for them,” said Kevar, “and they were able to adapt their farming techniques from their old world. Aktha helped them build towns and villages, while the summoners of Veyak learned to adapt the weather and control the unpredictable storms. Gradually, humans and deities learned to live in harmony.

“But one summoner found a map, hidden in Aktha’s first village. The map was drawn by the last inhabitants of Vey-Xanetha, and marked a certain mountain where they left further instructions. He and a group of others took a dangerous journey to find what lay under the mountain. And they found more carvings, and strange artefacts their predecessors left behind. The last people on this world left a record of the cycle of the seasons. Their birth and their downfall. Most people dismissed it, and it is not a widespread text. It has been adapted into story and myth, as most old legends are. But I cannot pretend it does not worry me…” He and Mathran exchanged dark looks. “There are some who take the carvings to be a prediction, who believe the chasm will open again. The downfall of our world begins then, and according to the last travellers to pass through the city, the chasm is already open.”

“Damn,” said Raj, in a low voice.

“Is it true?” Iriel asked Mathran. “Is that what you believe?”

Mathran shook his head. “Who would want to believe they are doomed to lose their world again? It may be a story. But there is often truth in myth.”

Too true, if these living deities were anything to go by.

Kay turned to him. “What exactly is supposed to happen? Aside from the continents stopping, and this chasm?”

“There are too many variations of the story to tell,” said Kevar. “Mathran has the original at the base.”

“You do?” asked Kay, eyes narrowing slightly. “You didn’t think to mention it before?”

“Kevar tells the story better than I do,” said Mathran. “And I thought you would want to meet some of the people who would be affected if our world is destroyed.”

I shifted. That sounded uncomfortably like guilt-tripping to me. It wasn’t like we were just here for a holiday. We did mean to help these people. Somehow.

“We’ll figure it out,” said Kay, with more confidence than I felt.

“I hoped to introduce you to the summoners of Veyak,” said Mathran, “but they are here no longer?” He directed the question at Kevar, who shook his head.

“They passed through, and left. It was they who told us that the chasm is open.”

Several other people came into the room, and the quiet broke into general conversation. I shifted, uncomfortable, wondering how any of this would help us solve the problem. This was a world with rules I couldn’t begin to understand.

“What do most people do for a living here, anyway?” Raj asked Mathran.

“Non-summoners mostly work the land,” said Mathran. “Merchants who buy from them work the pulley system, bringing in food, water, and so forth, and taking it to the marketplace. Others perform necessary services, making things people need, gathering supplies, deliveries, travelling to the other cities to trade, ensuring our energy supplies are sufficient, and so on. And there is a large population of scholars, especially in the city.”

“Wow,” was all I could say. The people here weren’t ignorant, not at all, and their world must have functioned like clockwork. Until everything had changed.

And I wanted to know why. These people shouldn’t have to leave their whole world behind because of some inexplicable disaster. If we could do anything to help…

“You have Veyak’s mark,” said a voice, and I almost jumped out of my seat. A boy appeared behind me–probably around Alber’s age. He stared openly at me, as though the others weren’t there.

“I–what?” I said. And then remembered he wouldn’t understand me because he didn’t have an earpiece.

“Veyak has touched you.” His hand reached out, and I automatically leaned out of the way. “Be careful.” He walked past, and I stared after him, heart beating wildly. Maybe it was my imagination, but the air tingled with static.
Magic?
Of course. I’d become immune to its presence, but everything from the walls to the furniture had been made from the power of the deities here. From magic. I shivered.

“Ada?” said Kay, jolting my attention back to the present. He’d stood, and so did the others. “We’re leaving now. Mathran is going to show us the carvings.” He gave Mathran a look that suggested he wasn’t pleased with the scholar for keeping the information from us before.

“Yes,” said Mathran. “We should return to the base.”

The chasm is already open,
I couldn’t help thinking, as we climbed into the rickety branch-cage again. But that made it sound like it was already too late.

CHAPTER NINE