Collision: The Alliance Series Book Three (23 page)

I found Mathran pacing the hallway.

“Are we heading to Aktha’s village?” I asked.

He nodded. “I fear we may not like what we find there. If the carvings are to be believed, its fall signals the doom of our world.”

Very dramatic.
“I thought the chasm wasn’t supposed to come first? But Kevar said it was already here.”

“There is no specified order in which one must interpret the carvings,” said Mathran, unhelpfully.

Great. We were stranded on an unfamiliar world with someone who’d given up hope.
Cheeriest sleepover ever.

“I got the computer working,” said Raj. “Avar worked some magic–not actual magic, just technology. Central have been in touch, they have some people pulling all-nighters over there to figure out what’s wrong in the Passages. Turns out they think there’s a leak.”

“A what?” I said, blankly.

“Whatever it is, it’s causing magic to leak out into the Passages.”

“Huh? Is that even possible?”

“Could be. There’s a ton of residual magic in there already”

“So what does that have to do with Vey-Xanetha?”

“No clue, but at least that’s something. If they can stop what’s happening on Earth…”

I thought of Mathran, of the people in the city.

We have to help them, too.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

KAY

Aktha’s village was apparently in the middle of a canyon, in a place which sounded suspiciously close to that chasm. I didn’t want to voice my suspicion that the village might not even exist anymore, so I followed Mathran’s instructions and used the world-key on the Passage wall until we found the right place.

Dry ground spread out before us under a burnished red sky. We moved into a guard formation unconsciously as we passed through the doorway. My gaze immediately snapped to the sky, but there weren’t any birds above. Nothing here but dry ground, and the distant shape of a town. Or a collection of buildings, anyway. We took off, treading carefully on the uneven, red-scorched ground.

The faint smell of burning was the first indication of trouble. Mathran had told us it was considered disrespectful to the deities to burn wood, and the flicker of flames on the horizon looked too big to be deliberate. As we drew closer to the cluster of buildings, it became apparent the flames came from the tallest structure. Smoke poured from the windows, and flames flared behind the glass, visible even from here. Not normal flames, judging by the white sparks.

But the houses surrounding the tower—made of the same red stone as every other building there—appeared to be deserted. No one ran screaming in the streets. Doors were open, lights gleamed in the windows–not electric, but these odd light-box-type devices–but no one was home.

“Creepy,” Raj commented in an undertone.

“It’s a ghost town,” said Ada. “Is there really no one here?” She moved towards one of the houses. I turned in that direction, hand already straying to my weapon.

The house’s door lay closed, but a faint sound came from inside. The only noise apart from the crackling flames.

“Should we knock?” asked Ada.

I pressed the heel of my boot to the door, which gave a little. One sharp kick, and it crumbled.

“…or you could kick the door down,” said Ada.

“Quickest way.” I kicked the remains of the door out the way. Except given by the way it crumbled, it wasn’t sturdy at all. Either it wasn’t usually used as a door, or something was wrong.
No shit, Kay.
Everything
about
this world was wrong.

I led the way into the dark hallway. A faint light in the adjacent room drew my attention. It gleamed blue, one of those light boxes set into the ceiling. As we watched, it moved slightly, the bulb, or whatever powered it, cracking down the middle. It fell in two halves, glass walls breaking away and scattering onto the floor.

“What did that?” Ada asked, behind me.

As if in answer, a piece of rock fell from the ceiling where the light had been. I took a step back.

“Better get out,” I said.

Not a moment too soon. We all but ran from the building as the ceiling caved in, bringing the room above crashing into it. Swearing, we ran out of a haze of red dust, turning to see the house just… wasn’t there anymore. A heap of red rubble lay in its place.

Before we could move, a rumbling sound like distant thunder filled the air. Another building fell, the seemingly-solid construction collapsing like the foundations had been knocked out from underneath. Rubble spilled over the way we’d come into the village, red rock breaking into smaller fragments and filling the air with thick dust. Coughing, we edged out of the way, and right into the path of the—

“Shit,” I said. “The tower’s going to fall.”

Blinking dust from my eyes, I spotted Mathran frantically beckoning from the side.

We ran, feet pounding on the cracked ground. A chunk of red concrete fell, landing with an earth-shaking rumble not a metre from where we’d been standing. Another followed, and more, until the sound of breaking rock assailed us. I overtook Mathran, searching for the Passage doorway—it had to be somewhere close.

“Kay.” Ada grabbed my arm, pointing frantically.

The doorway was still there, but shrinking by the second. I made sure the others were behind me then pelted for it, readying the world-key.

We made it. Just. I pelted through, skidded to a halt on the Passage floor. Ada leaned on the wall, gasping for breath.

“Remind me never to buy a house there,” said Raj, in a similar condition. “What in the Multiverse was that?”

“Magical decay,” said Iriel. “I think.”

“Their habitations were sustained by magic,” I said.

“So with Aktha not responding to them, everything’s collapsing?” asked Ada.

“I was afraid of this,” Mathran said, gravely. “The carvings say Aktha’s village falls, the world will follow.” His expression didn’t give away whether he actually thought that would happen.

“Ever the optimist,” Raj muttered.

Nothing to do but open a doorway to the base again. We had only an hour before night fell on Vey-Xanetha again, but on Earth, it was nearly four in the morning.

“Ms Weston’s asking for an update,” I said, as we gathered in the base’s approximation of a sitting room. “Again. I figure if we haven’t solved anything by nightfall… or dawn, whichever… it’d be more worth our while to go back to Earth.”

“All right,” said Raj. “I just want to sleep, to be honest, but at least Earth’s storms aren’t deadly. Well, compared to here.”

“Don’t speak too soon,” I muttered, as Mathran re-entered the room–he’d been checking on Avar and the injured man. “Mathran,” I said, a tad hesitant to share my theory until I was absolutely sure, “Do you know if it’s possible for one deity to take power from another?”

Mathran gave me a blank look, while Raj and Iriel just seemed puzzled. Only Ada knew what I was thinking.

“The trio have always coexisted,” said Mathran. “We do not think of them in such crude terms as power.”

“That may be,” I said. “But doesn’t it seem suspicious to you that Aktha and Xanet are losing power, but not Veyak?”

At least, I didn’t think so. What about that symbol where the merchants had been slaughtered?

“I do not… I do not know how that would be possible.” Mathran shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “There is no contest between the three, and there never has been.”

“But could someone else have done it?” asked Ada. “Can a person take power from them?”

Or an object? Adamantine…
Adamantine could absorb magic.

What
were those strange pieces of metal made of?

It seemed a waste of time us even staying there. Plainly, even on a high-magic world like Vey-Xanetha, nobody knew anything about magic sources. The three deities were pure magic, forces of nature. The magic-creatures in the Passages were scaled-down versions. But if two deities were losing their power, then either the other must be responsible… or a person, gathering power.

It didn’t take a genius to know that chasm was somehow connected to it. A gap in the middle of the earth had ‘unnatural’ written all over it, even in a world like Vey-Xanetha.

“Did you finish translating all those carvings?” I asked Iriel, as we gathered in the computer room again.

“The ones I could.” Iriel shook her head. “It’s obscure, most of it. Doesn’t even match up with a hiero-code.”

“I gave up trying to understand what she means an hour ago,” said Raj.

“Like the Rosetta Stone, maybe?” I said. “Anyway, I wondered what it says about that chasm. Where it comes from. The earth doesn’t split apart and then put itself back together again for no reason.”

“True,” said Iriel, “but the carvings don’t show it putting itself back together.”

“Huh?” said Raj. “A gaping hole in the middle of the earth? I think people would notice if it stuck around for a thousand years.”

“It did only appear recently, right?” I turned to ask Mathran, and realised he was no longer in the room. Must be with the injured man next door.

“Yeah, it must have,” said Ada. “Kevar said, remember?”

“Definitely doesn’t add up,” I muttered. “But then again, we haven’t seen the chasm, have we?”

“Great, we’ll add it to the list of tourist attractions,” said Raj. “Under ‘collapsing village’ and ‘death by lightning’.”

Ada laughed. “As long as we don’t add ‘Armageddon’ to that list.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ADA

Morning found us back on Earth, with no more answers than before. Ms Weston had called us back to report, and seeing as Vey-Xanetha’s temperamental weather showed no signs of abating, we managed to sneak back between thunderstorms.

“I’ve no idea what she wants with us this time,” Kay muttered. “Unless the tech team’s designed angry-god-proof umbrellas.”

Raj snorted. “I’m in favour of not going back until we have more of a clue what to do,” he said. “A village crashed down on us and nearly killed us, and we
still
don’t have answers.”

At least Ms Weston didn’t ask for written reports this time. She seemed preoccupied herself, her office desk stacked with papers.

But I wanted to ask Ms Weston something else. Something I’d almost forgotten about, even though I’d been at Central for weeks now. I couldn’t get that file out of my head. Maybe the answers
were
here on Earth.

I waited for the others to leave first. Kay glanced back at me, but didn’t say anything. And then Ms Weston and I were alone.

“Is there a problem, Ada?” she asked, from behind a small mountain of paper.

“Not with the mission,” I said.
Apart from the inevitable Armageddon and the living gods, that is.
“I–I wondered if you had that file. The one with my name in it.”

“The Royals’ records?”

Again, it felt utterly alien to hear the word coming from her.
Royal.
It didn’t sound like it belonged to me at all.

“Yeah. I think I have the right to see it.” I hadn’t realised how angry I was with everything until now, but it came searing back. “You knew what the Royals did to me before even
I
knew. You know what I can do, you’ve known since the medical division examined my blood. Shouldn’t I be able to access that information?”

“Certainly, you can see the file,” said Ms Weston. “I assumed you would ask that question as soon as you arrived here.”

I flushed. I
should
have, but I’d been preoccupied at the time, not to mention trying to avoid anything to do with magic.

Damn. She was trying to push the blame onto me.

“It’s in the medical division, right?”

“As a matter of fact, I have it myself.” She opened a drawer in her desk.

What?

Handing me the file, she said, “I requested Saki give me this, as well as the details from her examination, on the grounds that it would be safe from prying eyes in here.”

“She knows?” I asked, turning the file over in my hands. “How many people…”

“The medical staff are strictly sworn to confidentiality,” she said.

But the others might have told anyone,
I thought, opening the file before I lost my nerve.

The list of impersonal details could have belonged to anyone. A bunch of meaningless ticked boxes. And a name: Adamantine. Parentage unknown. The Royals were an extended family, and even they didn’t know exactly how they were interrelated. That was all the Alliance knew about me. I should have been relieved. But in the end, there was nothing in this file that I didn’t know already. It was almost a disappointment. And it didn’t give me any more answers about my magic, and how it might relate to Vey-Xanetha’s.