It took less time to retrieve
Siren from the pit than Ellis had expected, indeed, it was mostly down to the
work of the Draconics, who, after a brief period of fraught discussion, seemed
to agree with the two humans shouting for their attention that she needed
rescued and sent some winged lackey to swoop down and retrieve her. They were clearly agitated and uneasy by her
presence, uncertain what to make of all that had just happened, yet eager to
please her, if only because they now seemed to fear her wrath. Ellis felt a sneaking degree of sympathy for
them.
Once her feet were firmly on
solid ground, she began taking charge immediately, ordering the Draconics to
lead them into their temple, avoiding any further traps and, when it became
clear that that was only possible by flight, sending them flitting away to
bring some for whom carrying a human would not be considered a terrible
indignity. That gave them a moment's
peace.
"That was amazing,"
Ellis said, giving her a hug once the Draconics seemed to be out of
earshot. "I don't know how you did
it!"
"I don't think I had much
choice," Siren replied. She lifted
a hand and Ellis saw that it was shaking terribly. He squeezed her tighter.
"It was very quick
thinking on your part, my dear," the Former Baron interjected, forcing
Ellis to release her and allowing Siren a moment to breathe again, "I for
one am very proud of you! Never before
have I seen the spoken word used with such precision and yet such misdirection. It was a marvel to behold."
"Thank you," she
replied, her face uncertain.
"I am also very glad that
you did not fall into distant oblivion," the old man added, "it would
have been... difficult... without you."
Siren smiled, then gave the
spindly Philosopher an awkward hug, knocking his tall hat askew for just a
moment before he was able to focus on fixing it and thereby ignore all the
terrible embarrassment. Ellis couldn't
help but wonder if she'd done that on purpose.
"So what do we do
now?" he asked.
"I think Siren has chosen
the correct course of action. If there
is anywhere here were we might find a clue as to the location of the local
Obelisk, it will be inside that temple."
"There certainly hasn't
been any sign of it elsewhere so far," Siren agreed.
"But what are we even looking
for?" Ellis asked, scratching his head.
"I imagine we'll know it
when we see it, Eldorado, my boy, but let us not speak of it now, for I think I
hear the Draconics returning to give us a lift!"
Sure enough the thrum of wings
could be heard over the resonating crystals and a cloud of Draconics almost as
large as the one which had first greeted them now appeared from beyond the
temple and alighted on the ground nearby.
Three stepped forwards - hideous and misshapen, yet also somehow
chaotically beautiful - and gestured for the trio of humans to approach. Ellis found himself face to mandible with a
creature which managed to look like the nightmare offspring of a bat and
locust, but the scales of its body were a lustrous purple, pearlescent into
shades of teal. If he only looked at
those then it was like staring at the world's strangest, most beautiful
treasure.
The creature stooped, made a
series of unintelligible clicks and lowered a wing to reveal something a little
like a makeshift saddle on its back.
Ellis tried to look into its huge, bead-like black eyes for reassurance,
but found nothing to console him.
Tentatively he approached, climbed, sat and fastened himself in place. The beast shuddered beneath him in something
like revulsion, then straightened itself out so that Ellis had to lean forwards
and hold onto its shoulders to ensure he stayed on.
Glancing around he saw that the others were in
a similar predicament. The Former Baron
was clinging to the back of a monstrous, scaly bear, whose mouth opened to
reveal an inner beak not unlike that of toucan, and whose arms were webbed to
its legs like a flying squirrel. Siren
was mounted on something more serpentine, resembling a Chinese dragon with
transparent butterfly wings veined in vermilion and gold.
"You have been permitted
entrance to the Sacred Temple of the Deeps," the one like a bear said,
it's voice more squawk than roar.
"We shall lead you there so that your prophet might deliver you
message to the whole Draconic race."
"This has never been
done," hissed Siren's mount with a voice like tv static, "no humans
have ever trespassed in the Temple before this day."
Ellis' Draconic clicked
vehemently, to which the serpent hissed a translation, "You have come to
humiliate us. It says the end is
near."
Ellis glanced at Siren and the
Former Baron. They had the same
uncertain expressions. None of them knew
where this was going or how it would turn out.
He wanted to say something encouraging, but he didn't know what. He could only hope that this all ended
soon. He opened his mouth, the shut it
again instantly as the Draconic beneath him reared up and leapt into the air,
wings clacking loudly. It reached the
zenith of its arc, swooped down, gliding lazily, then turned towards the temple
and, hopefully, the Obelisk they sought.
It illuminated the darkness,
this machine, and yet it seemed it wasn’t a machine at all, so much as a
living, growing, glowing thing. There
was a ripple to the light, as if something was moving beneath the surface of
the stones, pulsing through hidden veins, surging with vitality, with
information, with more energy than it could truly contain.
And it spread, too. It was reaching all around them, covering the
blocks like time-lapsed creepers. And it
was all an illusion of sorts. Each line
was really a word, a paragraph, a whole library of logic, scrawled so fine that
even microscopes would struggle to read them.
Such was the artistry of those who helped build the machine, artistry
long forgotten, perhaps lost to this reality entirely, if it had even
originated here.
The blocks shifted, rearranged
themselves, built themselves up into strange new configurations until what had
once been walls became something new, something more recognisably machined, and
yet something so much more alive. It was
a control panel, or something very like one, with buttons and switches all
glowing and tempting. Slender fingers
itched to reach out, to caress. There
was a moment of silence, almost like reverence, almost like religion, before
skin met stone and muscle applied pressure to mechanism. The union was almost too perfect, better than
anyone could have imagined.
“It’s alive!” she whispered,
then turned away to face the one who stood there, staring, uncomprehending,
still not believing they had taken the only course that made any sense at
all. The only one which could save
Shadow, and their own lives in the process.
She turned and, in turning,
smiled.
“That’s one down,” she said,
“you should be happy.”
“I’ll be happier when this is
all over.”
“And so will everyone else.”
“Where’s the next the one,
then? How long will it take us to get
there?”
“Oh, not long, I imagine. There’s always a way for those as resourceful
as you and I.”
She could see the shudder,
even in the unnatural gloaming, but then she had anticipated it. She enjoyed to watch this girl in her
discomfort.
“Then let’s just get out of
here!”
“Patience, girl,
patience. I need to be certain the
obelisk is ready. It will only take a
few more-”
The mechanism of the door,
which had sealed shut behind them the moment they entered, whirred into life
once more. That could only mean one
thing. They were not alone.
“Quick,” she hissed, “find
somewhere to hide, we don’t want to get-”
But it was too late. The door was already opening, revealing three
figures silhouetted against the hypostatick lighting of the corridor
beyond. Three figures: a tall, thin man,
an even taller Stoneskin and a girl.
But not just any girl. The name came to her lips immediately,
spilled out into the musty, mote-filled silence like drops of acid.
“Annabella.”
And the girl’s eyes widened in
memory and in fear, and though she too was whispering, her reply crossed the
chamber, clear as crystal glass.
“Doctor Barkham!”
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