Authors: Graeme Ing
"I guess," she said, and turned to Sam. "Sir,
on the lakes near my home, all the boats have sails. Why doesn't
your ship use them? This flux stuff sounds complicated."
Sam gave a short laugh. "Wind’s too
unreliable most o’ the time, especially out on the dust. When it do
blow, it sends dust everywhere, and then we're coughing for
days."
A plump four-winged bug buzzed into the plaza
and hovered about the tree. Lissa sniffed, smelling something
resembling piz-nuts. The vine bud split apart and ejected a spindly
tendril that wrapped about the bug and yanked it inside. She
gasped.
Nax laughed. "Watch they don't gobble you
up."
"The flux is really neat," Pete continued.
"I've been learning about it."
Sam nodded his head toward the navigator
sitting on the other side of the tiny plaza. "'Course, the real
cleverness is what 'e does. Oban's damn good too. Flux might as
well be stinkin' turds without him. Oh, pardon me words,
missy."
"What exactly does he do?" she asked, fixated
on the bubbling blue veins snaking across the navigator's hands and
arms.
"It's a mystery to me," Sam whispered. "He
can sense how flux moves and changes, then he tells us how to winch
the flux vanes for the best speed. I dunno, maybe it's something to
do with them Klynaks. They're weird an' all."
Her neck hairs prickled and her heart
skipped.
"What are Klynaks?" she asked, sure that she
knew the answer.
The giant Sam glanced at the navigator and
picked at his forked beard. "You ain't seen 'em swim about the
ship? Bright red eyes, they got."
A dozen questions popped into her mind, but
before she could speak, the ground shook. The wooden planks
underfoot groaned and rattled. Globelights smashed to the floor.
Sounds of breaking glass came from a nearby building. Everyone,
locals and visitors, grabbed hold of something or each other. Cries
rang out throughout the town.
The mountain emitted a thunderous rumble, and
the ground lurched once more.
She squinted up at the dozens of farm workers
on the slopes high above, watching them fall or throw themselves
into their crops. They scurried like crawly-bugs, dodging
house-sized boulders that tumbled and bounced down the slopes,
thankfully coming to rest short of the town.
The rumble decayed, the ground stopped
shaking, and the entire town became silent.
"That's the strongest shake this Sunturn,"
one man said to his neighbor. "It's going to erupt this moon-cycle,
I tell you."
"Sooner than later is my guess," the other
replied, and they sauntered off as if nothing had happened. The
town resumed its bustle of shoppers and squawking traders.
"What do they mean about an eruption?" Lissa
said.
"Dunno," Sam replied and stood, head grazing
the sheets overhead. "But me stomach says it's time for lunch."
"Coming?" Pete called, scurrying after the
giant crew chief and Nax.
She waved goodbye, glanced up at the
mountain, and then at the robed navigator.
"May I ask a question please, sir?"
His head jerked up and his gaze settled on
her. He drew back his hood, revealing a withered face mottled with
blue veins. They pulsed grossly, and she imagined a hideous
substance flowing through them instead of blood. His eyes were
pinpricks of black set in dirty purple. She fought the urge to
cringe.
"If you must," he croaked.
She crossed to his bench but kept her
distance. A pocket-sized, hidebound book sat on the bench between
them.
"I'm Lissa. I-"
"What do you want, little girl called Lissa?"
he growled, his black eyes boring into her.
"Um, Sam... that is, the crew chief, said you
know about the Klynaks?"
His eyes narrowed, but she couldn't avoid
staring at a muscle twitching on his forehead. Each twitch pinched
his brow, swelling a bulbous vein. It looked about to burst at any
moment.
"How do you know about them?" he said.
"I've seen them. What are they? Why do they
swim-?"
"Seen them, have you? Aren't you smart? I
don't answer nosey little girls. Such things are beyond your
comprehension. Stick to your loaves and oodspal." He turned
away.
"I think they’re whispering to me."
His head snapped back around.
"What nonsense are you talking?" He coughed
violently and stood.
"Whatever you think you know, you're wrong."
He swirled his heavy robe around him.
"Ignorant girl."
Her mouth fell open and she watched him
vanish into the crowd. His book lay on the bench. She picked it up
and flicked through it. Her parents had taught her to read, but
this book made no sense, just page after page of numbers in a tiny
script. She closed it, and then gasped and almost dropped it.
The cover bore an engraving of the symbol she
had seen in the manger. Despite the midday heat, she shivered. What
did it mean?
If she returned his book, would he be
grateful enough to explain? He'd overreacted to her simple question
and she had to know why. Slipping the book into her skirt pocket,
she set off to find him, but had only reached the next intersection
when she spotted Lyndon loitering at the corner. She melted back
into the crowd, just as Nab and Bardas emerged from a store and
strode up to him. Bardas hoisted a sack over his shoulder. He
muttered a few words to Lyndon and then the three of them walked
off.
She stared after them, chewing her lip. How
had Lyndon gone from captured slave to conspirator? What was he up
to? Forgetting the navigator, she trailed them from a distance as
they headed toward the far end of the town.
Lyndon glanced back. She froze. He scanned
the crowd, and just as his gaze was about to settle on her, one of
the locals barged into him. She ducked.
"What're you doing?" Bardas asked Lyndon.
"I thought I saw-"
"Come on. Don't keep Farq waiting."
Now she had to know what was going on, but
was careful to follow at a greater distance. Both suns climbed
overhead and no breeze penetrated the narrow walkways. The locals
seemed oblivious to the heat, but sweat poured off her. She
considered giving up following them, but then they met up with Farq
at the edge of town. She darted behind a row of barrels, seizing
the opportunity to stretch her aching legs and take deep
breaths.
When she dared to peep, the four of them were
on the rough slopes of the mountain, walking a dusty trail around
its right side. There was little cover to hide her, so she let them
get a good head start. A short, dark-skinned woman emerged from a
house and offered her a perspiring mug, touching it to her forehead
first. Lissa accepted it, touched it to her own sweaty brow, and
drank the cold juice greedily. The woman smiled and went back
inside. If only Lissa could stay here on the island.
When Farq and the others disappeared from
sight, she returned the mug and followed them. The trail was steep
and dry, winding its way between jagged crevasses into which stones
clattered as she passed. Her boots kicked up red dust that made her
cough. She paused, hands on hips and sucking in the hot air. The
town looked a long way below. To her left, boulder-strewn slopes
ran down to a forest of jumbled stick trees, beyond which flat dust
stretched to the horizon. The red rocks contrasted with the grey
ocean.
A short while later she scrambled around an
immense boulder and spotted the others. They huddled beside a
handmade contraption consisting of a disc-shaped base, two planks
and a length of water piping sandwiched between. The pipe angled
into the sky. Next to it stood one of the ceramic urns from the
ship's hold, and the sack that Bardas had carried.
Sneaking from one rock to another, she crept
forward, wincing every time she dislodged a rock or crunched a
pebble underfoot. She slid into a dry creek bed, covering herself
in red dirt. There, she watched Bardas tip purple powder from the
urn into the upturned end of the pipe. The lower end had been
sealed.
"That's enough," Lyndon told him. "You don't
need a lot."
Farq snorted. "It looks like ground brick
dust. You'd better not waste my time, boy."
"You'll be impressed, I promise," Lyndon
replied. His wide eyes flicked from the device to Farq and
back.
He took a handful of yellow sweet-crystals
from the sack and poured them into the pipe.
So that's why they were negotiating with the
merchant the night before.
"This is dangerous," he said. "Stand
back."
The men shuffled away. Farq stood his ground
for a moment, and then headed directly toward where she lay. She
slid further into the creek bed. His boots crunched rocks right
above her.
Heart pounding, she searched her
surroundings, but there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to crawl to.
All she could do was bury her face in the stones, hoping her dirty
clothes and hair would blend in with the red soil. He stopped above
her but she didn't dare look.
"Well?" he snapped. "I'm not impressed yet.
Shouldn't something happen?"
A piercing, whooshing noise made her jump,
and it was followed by startled cries from the men. Farq hurried
back toward Lyndon. She poked her head up to witness a blue and
yellow flame blast from the mouth of the pipe. A fiery, sparkling
projectile erupted after it, throwing the device on to its side.
Her jaw dropped. The projectile soared into the sky, dribbling
gobbets of fire that splattered among the men. Blue fire arced
across the sky, spluttering and crackling until it impacted a
gigantic boulder half a league away.
"Watch this," Lyndon said, giggling like a
girl.
The rock became engulfed in an unnatural blue
flame that flowed like a liquid across its top, and oozed down the
sides, running into every crack, until the entire rock seemed to be
on fire. She pushed herself up on her hands for a better look, and
shook her head. How could a rock catch fire? Loud cracks echoed
across the mountain and the immense boulder exploded into hundreds
of fragments, making the ground shudder. No one spoke and no one
moved, until the fragments finally burned out. An ugly black mark
scarred the mountain.
"Totalamon's titties!" Nab said.
Farq marched across to Lyndon who had righted
the contraption.
"What is this weapon? How do you possess
this, boy?" He shook him by the shoulders.
"My father discovered it by accident."
"Your father?"
"Yes, sir. He's a chemist."
"Show me again."
Farq gestured to the scorched device. He
crowded close and scrutinized every step that the men took to
reload it with purple powder and sweet-crystals. He demanded that
Lyndon tell him the quantities of each. Lissa listened
carefully.
Once again, a blue-yellow flame was expelled
from the pipe, and a sparking bolt of blue fire soared high up the
mountain. Flaming rocks slid and bounced downward, cracking and
exploding, spreading blue fire everywhere.
Farq stared at the destruction. "To whom is
your father selling this?"
"No one. He doesn't see its value."
Farq's eyes narrowed, and his smirk chilled
Lissa's insides. He patted Lyndon on the back. The boy grinned, but
she saw no warmth or friendliness in Farq's gesture.
"So you'll get me large quantities at a cheap
price?" Farq asked, nodding slowly.
Lyndon nodded back.
"Good," Farq said. "One more demonstration,
but I want twice the power."
Lyndon's grin vanished and he swallowed hard.
"I don't think that's-"
"I don't want you to think," Farq roared. "Do
it."
Double measures were poured into the pipe.
Lyndon inched backward and cowered behind a rock. Nib and Bardas
glanced from Farq to the boy, and then hurried to join Lyndon. Farq
scowled, and stood behind the device, hands on his hips.
The whooshing noise was deafening. Farq
ducked as the pipe fractured into two pieces, blasted in opposite
directions. Lissa covered her head as one piece tumbled past her.
She could feel its heat, hotter than both suns. Sparks showered the
entire area, and then the large projectile was airborne, spitting
liquid fire as it climbed higher than before. She cowered in
anticipation as the fiery arc, which must have been visible from
anywhere on the island, rushed toward the summit of the
mountain.
It hit.
The whole peak erupted in blue and purple
fire that burned her eyes. She threw her face into the dirt and
rolled into a fetal position.
The island shook.
Gigantic boulders toppled from high above and
they crashed and bounced down the slopes. The sides of her creek
bed gave way, covering her with stones and dirt and sending her
sliding into its bottom. The thunder of avalanches roared in her
ears. She dug herself out, choking and coughing, scrambling toward
more stable ground. The ground lurched violently, then vibrated
side to side, throwing her back down.
A furious hissing noise drowned the sound of
the rocks that fell and smashed around her. Lying on her back, she
saw a column of water, a hundred feet wide, rocket from the
mountaintop into the sky.
She screamed.
Torrents of water gushed downward from the
summit, pouring into every crevasse and creek, splashing over and
around boulders, picking them up and sending them tumbling downward
in a wall of water heading toward her. The whole island seemed to
be coming apart. Rain from the mountaintop drenched her, turning
the soil to paste. She clawed frantically at the creek walls.
Clumps pulled away in her hands. She cried out and climbed on all
fours. There was nothing to hold onto. The mud sucked her down.
Then the waves hit.
Screaming and spluttering, she forced her
head above water as the churning, muddy river carried her away. She
dragged her hands along the banks, not getting any purchase, but
instead filling them with red muck. The river roared around a bend
in the gully. She blinked the mud from her eyes and coughed up
gritty water, flailing her limbs to stay afloat. In only a few
precious heartbeats she had been swept to the foot of the mountain.
The river thundered into the forest of stick-trees, surging around
hundreds of twisted roots and branches. Rocks and detritus smashed
against them, spinning and tumbling in all directions.