110

(Ezra)

The Stillness Between Two Waves

Ansel scrambled up, tripping over the length of his arquebus.

“Leave it!”

Ezra pulled him and they ran, discarded weapons tumbling by their sides as they hastened up the slope. The savage woman broke into a sprint and the men left behind on the hill scattered in alarm, losing precious moments fumbling for their guns. Up the mountain side, Ezra rushed after Ansel, heart thumping, stumbling on all fours over loose rocks, heaving himself up on scrubby tufts of grass.

Behind him a shot, then screaming.

Ezra stole a look over his shoulder. The savage woman had torn the gun from Amos’s hand and was bludgeoning him with it, hitting him over and over, his head being smashed, losing shape, brain matter and gore spraying over the grass. Once she was done she stood, the remains of Amo’s body lying in a pulp beneath her. The woman stared ahead, uncanny in her stillness, unmoving, the bloody arquebus limp in her hand. As Ezra watched, her demon bent forward, whispering. She looked up at the fleeing men, and her eyes flashed.

The woman lifted the mangled remains of the arquebus and hurled it. The twisted lump of metal flew spinning through the air, striking two men across the backs of their legs. Ezra heard the sound of their bones cracking from his position on the rise as they fell forward, face planting into the ground.

“Come on!” yelled Ansel, pulling Ezra from his stupor.

He tore his eyes away, and ran, chest tightening with fear and exertion. His breath came in ragged bursts. Would she follow them? How could they stop her? Someone who could drop bullets with a wave of her hand? Someone who could twist metal? Would a cannonball do it? Too far. They were too far from the ships, too far. There would be no stopping her, the woman was a demon made flesh.

Ezra tripped over a rock and caught himself with his hands, slicing a nasty gash out of his right palm. His breath came in sobs as anger warred with terror. He fled blindly, following Ansel up, up the mountain. Behind them the woman screamed. It was not the same noise as the dying men but a bestial noise - heart-breaking, rage-filled, and strangely layered as if two or even three voices were crying out at once. Anger and loss were wrapped in terror and it was coming closer. She was on their heels.

Faster, faster. Ezra could hear Ansel panting ahead of him. He stumbled over a low wall - they had reached the ruin of the native settlement. Perhaps they could hide. They should try to hide, there was no point trying to fight such a monster.

A chunk of brick flew through the air, aimed at the woman’s head. At his side, Ansel had apparently reached different conclusions. It hit, with more strength than Ezra thought possible. Her head snapped back, bobbing slightly. Where it struck there was a nasty gash, bone showing through the torn flesh. She stopped, making no sound, no movement of pain. Her eyes were slightly glazed, almost as if she was somewhere else. Once more the demon bent down to whisper in her ear. Slowly, it guided her, turning her shoulders, pushing her towards them. Her eyes snapped vivid blue. There was a sharp whip crack sound and she disappeared.

Ezra blinked, his ears ringing.

Before he could process this dematerialisation she reappeared directly in front of them, the demon rippling ink-black darkness at her back. Her fist crashed towards the ground, and he pushed Ansel out of the way, the stone paving splitting where he had been standing moments before. They were going to die, Ezra realised, as they stumbled to the side. She stepped forward and the rock beneath her feet cracked. Small shock waves rippled out in a web of destruction, as if she was very heavy, or her bones had suddenly become incredibly dense.

They ran, darting through the ruins, tripping and falling over their feet.

“Look out!” Ansel yanked him sideways as a large chunk of masonry sailed through the air. It landed with a crash, leaving a small crater and showering them with powder and debris. Bricks, stone, and a piece of iron shutter rained down on them. They zigzagged, trying to avoid being hit.

“What are we going to do?” Ezra cried, his breath coming in heaving gasps, he was nearly doubled over from the exertion. They ducked down a narrow alleyway, into the town square, thundering past the lonely moongate, and crouching low.

Whip-crack.

“Do you trust me?” asked Ansel in between laboured breaths.

“Yes,” said Ezra, surprised.

Ansel shoved a bunch of soil into his hand.

“What the-”

Ansel pushed him hard.

Ezra staggered, arms pin-wheeling, soil spilling from his grip as he fell through the circular gate. A dazzling flash blinded him, like cannon fire, or a lightning strike. The air rippled, suddenly sharp with the tang of metal. Ansel crashed into his back, and Ezra fell forward… landing…landing on soft, springy grass.

Ezra looked up in confusion. His mouth fell open and he looked back over his shoulder, fully expecting to see the crazed demon woman, but there was only a round moongate, runes sparking the glittering remnants of energy. Through it he could see a small furry creature swinging away into a green forest. A green forest?

He blinked in the bright sunlight, staring up at the deep azure of the sky above. The sky that had been slate grey and windswept moments before. In the far distance a turquoise ocean lapped at dark yellow sands, tranquil and serene. Tucked between forest and sea were buildings. A large town - a foreign city, made of odd-looking buildings painted in an unfamiliar style.

Ezra swallowed.

“You figured out how the gates work,” he said, his voice hushed.

Ansel picked himself up and dusted off his trousers.

“I did,” he said, offering Ezra his hand and hauling him upwards. Ezra looked once more at the innocuous round gate. There was no sign of the native ruin they had just left. No sign of the camp, or of the airships. They may as well have been transported to the other side of the world.

“Where are we?” he whispered.

He felt a moments fresh terror. Had they travelled by witchcraft? His skin crawled at the thought, but no, the gates were rune powered, the same as the airships. It was merely technology he didn’t understand. Ansel would be able to explain.

“I don’t know,” said his friend. Ezra glanced back at the gate, uneasily, breath still scarce from the chase through the ruins. Was she still there? Search, and ripping the place apart?

“But… we can get back? You know how to get us back?”

Ansel licked his lips, looking unsettled.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“At least we are alive,” Ansel said, nettled. Ezra conceded this point with a nod of his head.

They stood side by side, covered in powdered debris and looked down at the alien city. Faint sounds drifted up to them - people laughing and talking, animals braying, the clatter of feet over cobbles and distantly, the sound of an anvil. The normal sounds of a city at peace. Where were they? Ezra had never seen anything like this in any library in Stonehaven. They must still be on the new continent, still in Ys. Ezra rotated on the spot, taking in the warm, humid air. Were they somewhere near the tropics?

This did not appear to be a community that felt itself under threat. There were no guards, no visible fortifications. No one rushed to accost them or ask them their business. The moongate was blessedly deserted but not too far away he could see a group of people working the land.

“Should we-” he started, then stopped, at a loss.

He didn’t know what to do, so unexpected was this turn of events. If they went back straight away presumably they would step directly back into the path of the rampaging demon woman. But here they were in a strange place, surrounded by savages without even a gun between them. One of the men in the distant field turned his head towards them, and lifted a hand.

Ezra’s stomach lurched.

To his horror Ansel casually lifted an arm and waved back.

“What?” said Ansel. “What? Oh, come on,” he grabbed Ezra by the elbow and towed him towards the trees. “Let’s wait out of sight. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you want to explore the city?”

Ezra laughed at Ansel’s joke, the laughter coming out forced and a little unnatural. He turned towards the treeline and a flash of what might have been disappointment crossed Ansel’s face. He swallowed down hysterical laughter and led the way into the forest.

To Ezra’s relief, no one called out, or came after them and they were soon surrounded by palms. The pair sank to the ground, backs against a sturdy trunk and breathed out. The sunlight was a soft dappled green, filtering through the ferns and fronds to edge the glade in gold. The earth was pungent loam, and all around them the undergrowth moved with the gentle sounds of small creatures going about their business. Something swung through the branches overhead. They both started, then relaxed once more - another monkey, making its way from branch to branch.

“So,” said Ezra, after a while. “Is this where we live now?”

Ansel frowned, picking at a scab on his arm.

“I’ve been experimenting,” he said. “In my spare time. I think I’ve figured out how the gates work. It’s fairly simple actually, even if I don’t yet understand the why…”

“The why?”

“All the science. I mean, yes. I can recreate the… the conditions,” he said. “But I don’t understand why they are necessary or how exactly they interact.”

“You can’t read the runes?”

“No. Yes. I mean, I can read some of them, but it's not a flying portal, Ezra.”

Ezra grunted.

“Some of the runes I have never seen before. I would like to take them back to the Great Library in Stonehaven, see if I can find a match…see what the records say.”

“But you got us here?”

“I mean, obviously. As I said, the conditions are easy enough to recreate.” There was silence. Ansel frowned, apparently lost in thought.

“Well, are you going to explain?”

“Oh yes, sorry. So those pots all around the base, they all contain soil.”

“That’s what you gave me?”

Ezra stared down at his bloodstained, filthy palm.

“Yes. I think the soil is essential - from the places you want to travel to. It works as an anchor.” They both looked down at the ground, at the deep ochre of the forest floor. Ezra couldn’t remember the colour or texture of the soil Ansel had handed him but then he had been occupied.

“So, to get home… I mean back to the camp, we need soil from there.” Ezra’s breath quickened. “Do you have some?”

Ansel drew out a small handful from his pocket. They both stared at the precious grains.

“This is all I have.” He swallowed. “I hope it is enough. I have no idea how much is needed.”

“Right,” said Ezra. He licked his lips. “And that’s it? You just fling soil at the gate and step through?”

“Blood,” said Ansel. “It needs to mix with your blood.”

Ezra looked down at the many cuts and grazes on his hands. “That sounds…”

“To anchor your physical matter to the portal,” said Ansel, hurriedly. “Not witchcraft. Your physical matter mixing with the physical location.”

They both pondered.

“The Inquisition can decide,” said Ezra after a while. “It's not for the likes of us to know. Sounds like science, though,” he said, carefully. He desperately hoped he was right. He had seen for himself how fragile the line between civilisation and corruption, the brittle veneer of faith ready to crack at any pressure.

“I think so too,” said Ansel. “But that’s why I hadn’t said anything. I wanted to be sure, I wanted to study it more.”

“Makes sense,” said Ezra. He stiffened. “You know what this means, right?”

“What?” Ansel looked at him warily.

“If you can recreate one,” he said, excitement gripping him. “If you can recreate one of these gates we can build one in Stonehaven!”

“What?” The blood drained from Ansel’s face.

“Just think about it! Once there is a gate in the capital we won’t need the ships! We won’t need to worry about constructing great lumbering ships to carry vast cargo, there will be no need for month long voyages! Think of the cost savings! Think of the ease! You could stay at the camp and pop home to Stonehaven for a mug of ale, or to see a healer! The Empress herself would be able to step through and see the cavorite veins for herself! We could have as many troops as we wanted! We would be unstoppable!”

Ansel didn’t say anything. Ezra could see his friend thinking it over. Ezra wanted to shake him, couldn’t he see this would change everything? Even against demons and witches, they would prevail through sheer firepower. The speed of the Lochlanach expansion would treble, they just needed to get the schematics for the gate home to Stonehaven and build it there.

“Don’t you see!” he burst. “This is the break we have been waiting for!”

Ansel didn’t reply, seeming to find great interest in the pattern of a nearby leaf. “And now we know why they have no roads,” said Ezra. “Now Mammon is gone-”

“You are forgetting,” said Ansel, curt, “the monster we narrowly escaped. What if we return and everyone is dead and the camp lies in ruins?”

Ezra refused to consider the possibility.

“If she got close to the ships,” he said. “They would have used cannons on her. You injured her with a piece of rubble. She could be injured.” Ezra shifted to his feet. “Enough time has passed. We should go, before the natives discover us. We do not want them to know that we know their secrets.”

“Right,” said Ansel, rubbing his head with one hand. He got up, looking worried. “Right. Let’s go.”