Collision: The Alliance Series Book Three (9 page)

“Yeah,” I said, deciding not to bring that up in front of the others. “Okay. Someone’s meeting us on the other side.” The door opened onto the side of a mountain, on a steep path barely a metre wide. I stepped out carefully, testing the ground first. The path wrapped around the cliff with no railing between us and a steep drop. Below lay a forest, masked by low-hanging white clouds. The sky above gleamed purplish-red, which was usually a sign of the level of magic in the atmosphere. This mountain was part of the range dividing the one continent on Vey-Xanetha. It was one large landmass, apparently, the one place all the inhabitants had migrated to after leaving their old world. We did have a map logged into our communicators, but it was most likely out of date. Still, they’d have up-to-date information at the base.

I sensed the magic here, like on Aglaia–subtle, right now, which didn’t fit in right with the description Ms Weston had given us of this being a high-magic, unstable world. Maybe the levels fluctuated. I’d be on guard, anyway. I didn’t trust magic as far as I could throw it–and I sure as hell wouldn’t be doing
that
here. Magic shots weren’t illegal, actually, even third level, but that meant encountering magic-wielders here might put us in a world of trouble.

The base itself sat higher up the mountain; they’d built it next to the one Passage entrance. The others groaned when they saw we’d have to climb a steep stone staircase cut into the mountain itself.

“What,” said Raj, “is the point in using Passages for convenience if we have to climb a bloody mountain?”

“Could be worse,” I said, indicating the forest. “We might have ended up down there in the jungle.”

The temperature here was much higher than Earth, more tropical than anything, and in guard uniform, we were all sweating within a minute. The climb didn’t take too long, though Raj kept muttering how he hadn’t signed up for this when he’d become Ambassador.

“None of us did,” said Iriel. “Welcome to life as a magic-wielder.”

“Luck of the bloody draw,” muttered Raj.

Yeah. That’s one way of putting it.
Personally, if I could stop Earth getting overrun by rabid unicorns and griffins, I’d take on the goddamn mountain.

As we came to a steep incline leading up to a large stone structure, the mountain shifted under our feet, so abruptly Raj tripped over and Iriel staggered against a wall. I barely kept my balance, and Ada backed up a few steps. Magic flared, making my hands tingle with static. There was the instability.

“What was that?” asked Raj, getting to his feet.

“Felt like an earthquake,” said Ada, with an uneasy glance at me. Of course, the other two wouldn’t be able to feel it–only people with an internal source could.

“No clue,” I said. “I reckon we ought to get up there.”

I took the lead and we climbed quickly, keeping close to the wall alongside the path in case another earthquake–or whatever it was–took us by surprise. Reaching the top, I turned back to make sure the others were keeping up. The forest looked even more extensive from here. According to the map, it covered half the continent, and wasn’t properly mapped out. I hoped we didn’t end up having to go there, because offworld GPS didn’t work in worlds without a satellite licensed by the Alliance. This world didn’t look like it’d be launching rockets into space anytime soon.

I couldn’t see further than the jungle. Above, I swore the sky had gone a deeper red in the last few minutes.

A shadow moved in the corner of my eye, and I instinctively shifted my hand towards my dagger. I’d rather avoid using the stunner, but Ms Weston had described this world as “hostile”, and that was reason enough to be on full alert.

I turned towards the shadow, but there was nothing there. Maybe I was being jumpy, but I never doubted my own instincts.

“Be careful,” I said to Ada, who reached the top next. “I think I saw something move over there.”

Raj and Iriel caught up. “Time out,” said Raj. “
And
we have to walk all the way back later.”

“Quit whining,” said Iriel. “How many Alliance members from Earth have seen this place?”

“No one in the past twenty-five years,” I said.

“We should get a photo,” said Ada, grinning at me. “Come on, it’s pretty awesome.”

I rolled my eyes. “The council won’t like it.”

“What, does Vey-Xanetha have a ban on photography?”

“Minimal interference,” I said. “It’s part of the Ambassadors’ mandate.”

“And we’re in a dangerous job,” said Raj. “It’s not a holiday.”

“I know that,” said Ada. “Is that the base?”

The building’s tower-like shape cut into the burnished bronze-coloured cliff face, probably the same height as my apartment block. There was real glass in the windows, but it must have been brought in from offworld, because there didn’t seem to be any other kind of habitation on the mountain and the jungle looked impenetrable. The metal-plated bronze-coloured door opened, and someone stepped out.

“Civilisation!” Raj proclaimed.

The claw-footed man who greeted us was presumably part-avian, from one of the west-lying worlds. He seemed nervous, shifting from one clawed foot to another and anxiously glancing up at the sky, and hurried us into the building. He walked with a pronounced limp and bandages were visible above his scaly ankle. A recent injury.

“I’m Avar,” he said. “I work in research here.”

A bronze-skinned man with violet eyes joined him, a native of Vey-Xanetha named Mathran. The pair of them were assisted by various people from other Alliances, but at the moment, only the two of them were present at the base. We clipped on the spare earpieces we’d brought, so everyone would be able to understand one another without complications. Before, we’d have had to rely on communicator-translators onscreen. I couldn’t help being impressed by Ada’s brother’s ideas–pity he was such an asshole.

The room designated for the meeting overlooked the cliff’s edge. The plain furniture was made of some stone, the same coppery colour as the mountain. A working ceiling light flickered above. So this world had electricity.

“How does that work?” Raj asked Avar, spotting it, too.

“We use solar energy here,” he explained. “We decided that in the interests of noninterference, we’d make this base self-sustaining.”

Mathran said, “We are glad of that decision now. The world outside is hostile.”

Avar shifted, revealing the bandage on his leg was faintly stained with blood. In fact, Mathran himself bore several scratches on his face. Had something attacked them? Maybe that was why the others had left the base.

“What even lives down there?” asked Ada, peering out the window.

“There wasn’t anything about the wildlife in the files,” said Raj. Thinking about it, we hadn’t seen a living creature yet aside from the people at the base.

“It’s a little complicated,” said Avar.

“The first thing you need to understand about my world is the gods,” said Mathran. “They shape our lives here, more than anything else. My people migrated to this world a thousand years ago, and found it hostile. The gods protected us. Aktha, Veyak, and Xanet. I am a summoner–magic-wielder, you call it–and I am linked to Aktha. Each of us is attuned to one of the gods.”

Three kinds of magic-wielder?
This was a new one.

“Everyone on this world?” I asked. “Your people live in the jungle, right?”

“Some do,” he said. “My birth city is much further north than here, on the plains, at the present time.”

“At the present time?” Odd thing to say. The memory of the earthquake came to mind, for some reason.

“Yes. Our continent shifts and reforms itself at the whims of our deities.”

Huh?
I blinked, glancing at the others out of the corner of my eye–Raj and Iriel exchanged surprised glances, while Ada’s eyes widened.

“Really?” asked Iriel. Of the others, she looked the least shocked.

Avar nodded. “We have seen it happen,” he said. “The mountains are a constant, perhaps because this part of the world is tethered to the Passages, but the rest of the continent changes, drastically, every twenty days.”

“Damn,” said Raj.

That pretty much summed it up. There might be a million worlds in the Multiverse, but most followed the same natural laws, even the ones with high levels of magic. Magic was a law in itself. Of course, there were countless uninhabited worlds or ones inaccessible to anyone in the Alliance due to hostile conditions–but ever-shifting continents were a new one on me.

“So, what’s going on with the magic level?” I asked. “Our supervisor told us a disturbance was traced to this world.”

“Yes…” said Mathran, trailing off as if hesitant. “We would never have reported this to the Alliance if there wasn’t something fundamentally wrong–the fact is, the last continent shift is late. Five days late. It’s never happened before.”

“And the magic levels?” I asked. “The Balance is being affected throughout the Multiverse.”

“The Balance?” said Mathran, brow furrowed in confusion.

Does he not know what the Balance is? Impossible.
Avar appeared confused, too.

“
The
Balance,” said Raj. “Of magic? The way magic on each world is always at the same level? This world is third level, right?”

Mathran’s expression remained confused. Maybe there wasn’t a Vey-Xanethan translation.

“Third level,” I said, “is what we call worlds where it’s possible to channel a high amount of magic.” But there hadn’t been much information in the files on what exactly was possible on this world.

He blinked. “I do not know this ‘third level’. Magic is a word we use to describe the actions of the gods–
hathet.
” The word must not translate into English. Were ‘magic’ and ‘miracles’ interchangeable? And did that mean
people
couldn’t use it?

“What seems to be wrong?” I asked.

“The deities,” he said, “are not responding to us as they used to.”

Responding?
“Did they used to speak to you?”

He shook his head. “The deities do not speak our language, no, but
hathet
links us. It is different for each of them. Akatha lends us strength to rebuild our towns when the continent shifts. He is the god of earth, and also fire and metal. We rely on him to keep our machinery running–in the cities, everything has ground to a standstill, or so we inferred from communications before most of our technology shut down. But I haven’t been able to get there, because of the jungle. It’s impassable to outsiders because of the hostile creatures within.”

Damn.
Even I couldn’t figure out how magic was involved in this, though it was pretty clear it was, if the whole Balance across the Multiverse had been affected.

“We’ll see what we can do here,” I said. “There are three deities, you say?”

Mathran nodded. He seemed to have decided I was the group’s leader, though neither he nor Avar had reacted at all to the name
Walker.

“The summoners devoted to Xanet, the deity of nature, tend to work as healers, if they are gifted enough. Xanet can even stave off death, in certain cases. Those who serve Veyak are predominantly farmers and weather-summoners. Everyone acknowledges the presence of the trio, but if you are chosen as a higher summoner, it’s your duty to serve the deity who chose you above the others.”

“But you’re allowed to live up here?” Raj asked. “With Alliance members?”

“The deities permit us to do as we like, provided we do not directly violate them. Although,” added Mathran, “it is true that I don’t have a great number of friends amongst my own people. I have set myself apart by allying with the Alliance. My people are progressive, but life here is difficult enough without adding in outside interference. We have been uprooted from our world before, and it will not happen again.”

I knew from the absolute conviction in his tone that it would do no good to argue.

“Okay,” I said. “So, what
can
we do? Obviously, the Alliance has no intention of interfering more than we need to, but if there’s anything we can do to find out what exactly went wrong…”

I concentrated on my sense of the magic level and felt no difference. It didn’t feel like a high-magic world, either. But this–whatever it was–only happened five days ago. I wasn’t sure how that measured up to Earth’s concept of ‘days’.

“Firstly, the summoners of Aktha were late crossing over the mountain. I was once part of that group and they recognise me as a friend. They’re nomadic, and travel around the mountains according to the continent’s patterns, and every three cycles, they pass by this base. But this year, they haven’t. We have not been able to leave and find out if they simply decided to stop after the disturbance, or if something else stopped them.”

“You can’t leave?” asked Ada.

He inclined his head. “Unfortunately, the wildlife has turned against us, and there is no other means of transport from here. Ordinarily, the continents would have shifted to allow it. I can go out into the Passages, of course, but I will not leave my own world to suffer.”