trigger warning for man-made disaster

“There is little time,” the Finder said. “Death stalks all this night, if you refuse our offer.”

“You haven’t offered anything,” Red said with dry annoyance. “And I know Erse and Levassa personally. Since they haven’t come to say hi, I’m pretty certain they aren’t out and about stalking anyone.”

“Mockery is a sport to you,” she said, biting her words. “Mimeriqette commented on it.”

The caravan’s illumination did not dim, but darkness fell, a black swirl of hate mingled with spite. Vantra glanced at Lorgan, concerned, but he ignored the conversation to stare with a narrow-eyed frown at the river. She glimpsed nothing but faint yellow light reflected in the gentle waves and wondered what caught his attention. The same thing that the rebbas sensed? The bovines stamped and flicked their tails and grunted.

“Did she now,” the Light acolyte said in a deep, ominous thrum. “And did she tell you how she knows that?”

The woman stilled, then crackly laughter escaped her. “Time is not on your side. Give us the fake Finder and her stolen head.” She looked left and slowly skimmed across the mini-Joyful before halting, focusing on Vantra. “Or we will take her. She had much to answer for.”

She fought not to shrink into the scholar and give her identity away. What did the Finders plan for her other than a trip to the Fields? Nolaris already attempted to end her existence; what more did they think she deserved?

“Something’s wrong,” Lorgan whispered. “Can you hear that?”

She, the nomads, and Yut-ta paused to listen. “I think I hear roaring,” she said. Distant but loud; what creature sounded like that?

“Who are you?” Katta’s sword-sharp voice cut through the night, and the restless rebbas froze. The woman’s companions backed up a few more steps. “A knight, as those before you? Other hands besides the Hallowed have Touched you. Their Darkness is not the concealment you think.”

The woman hmphed, her attention remaining on Vantra. She felt odd, as if the ghost marked her in some way. The temptation to cast Clear Rays and make her go away strengthened, but she did not think she could keep it confined to the Finder. “You think you can break my façade? Many have attempted it, but Death is not so easily defeated.”

“Death?” Katta raised his hand, smiling. “As Qira said, we know Erse and Levassa. No, Death does not shield you.” He snapped his fingers.

The woman shrieked as the cloak burst apart, the dark wisps fading into nothing before they struck her party. She reared back, eyes wide, and slipped into Ether to prevent a fall. She reformed, her essence wavering, and stared at her clawed hands. Oily blonde hair fell in front of her face, which had scars crisscrossing her cheeks and up to her scalp. More covered her neck and ran past her shirt collar. Were they markings from her people, or had she come by them in battle? The pattern seemed too neat for conflict slashes.

The woman planted a hand on her chest, the claws reforming into human fingers, and barred her teeth at him. “You will perish for your insolence,” she snarled.

“Will I, now?” he asked. “And who will you send after me to accomplish this grand feat?”

She opened her mouth, but her reply drowned under a blaring alarm. Vantra winced and slapped her hands over her ears. What was that?

“DAM COLLAPSED AT DECCAVENT! EVACUATE TO THE LIGHT TEMPLE!”

The message repeated, though it did not sound as if it came from a loudspeaker. A light rose above the guard tower and flared to life, bathing everything in a fiery orange.

An elfine from the tower zipped to the field, eyes wide, surrounded by a shield to keep the rain from harming her Ether form. “Grab the rebbas. Follow the light above the Light Temple! We don’t have much time!” She streaked to the next encampment, her voice rising as she screamed at them.

“They knew,” Red growled, but Tally grabbed his arm, keeping him in place. Vantra looked back; the Finders had disappeared.

“Laken!” What if they kidnapped him in the confusion?

“The Light-blessed will get him to the hill,” Kjaelle said. “Come one. We need to get your pack.”

Her pack! She could not leave the Shard, her Sun badge, or the altar to drown! Her essence shuddering with distress, she raced with Kjaelle to the wagon, clambered up the stairs, thrust the door open, and snatched her bag from the floor. She ripped the top open and shoved the notebook inside before sliding the straps over her shoulders. They whisked back to the fire and watched the Light-blessed push a wagon out of the way so the caravan staff could get the restless rebbas out of the center of the circle.

Her essence throbbed, panic building. The beasts were not the quickest on their feet; could they reach the hill in time? Lorgan joined them, a pack bulging with books, frowning but calm. “I can sense it. Lots of debris blocking the water. We’ll have time before it breaks, but when it does, it’ll be much worse.”

“Have you lived through a giant lake breach?” Kjaelle asked as she took a position behind the nomads and caravan staff as they led the restless animals through the hole.

“No, but I studied them. Anyone living underwater needs to know about them. Nymphs and dryans brag about their magic prowess, but holding the shields against a rupture isn’t guaranteed, and neither are the spells designed to evacuate everyone to high land.”

Vantra clutched her hands to her chest and looked around; no Laken or the Light-blessed he patrolled with. Dammit. Where were they?

“Vantra! Kjaelle! Vesh! Lorgan! Get the living to the hill,” Red shouted.

“But—” Kjaelle began, then shook her head. “We need to guard against those Finders.” Rage darkened her tone as she grabbed Vantra’s hand and they sped after the nomads and Yut-ta, who outpaced the ghosts leading the rebbas. They headed towards a golden light hovering above the treetops, a beacon for those who did not know where to go.

Lorgan and Vesh caught them as they reached the road. They crunched across the gravel as a shimmery dome formed over the town and field. The side facing the river had a sharp edge, as if to divide the water, and the sides curved, which would direct the waves around the shield. The rain thrummed against the surface, sounding like dozens of baby rattles, obscuring some of the evacuees’ noise.

“Two Rivers took a dam breach seriously,” Lorgan said as they neared the hill, his attention on the shimmer above them. “The shielding has all the water precautions one needs to hopefully survive the first hit.”

“Ghosts remember the Dryanthium flood. Even if the living didn’t think it a threat, they would,” Kjaelle told him. “Ask the Light-blessed. They were in Selaserat when the dam broke. This is going to be hard on them. Bad memories.”

That twisted Vantra’s fear into sympathy. How horrible, to experience a devastating disaster again. What could she do to help?

“Be alert,” Vesh warned as other evacuees from the fields surrounded them. He adjusted his instrument case on his back so he did not have to hold a strap to keep it in place and flexed his hands. “I’m not sensing those Finders, but they have to be around somewhere.”

“They had a nasty mix of Darkness magic and something else,” Kjaelle muttered, studying the crowd. “They should be easy to track.”

“There was something earth-laden about it, something that reminded me of nymph Death magic, but fouled,” Lorgan said. “I can’t think of a good explanation for what I sensed, other than several someones created the shell she used. But Vesh is right—I can’t find a trace of them, and with that combination, they should stick out like a dead fish in a flowerpot.”

“Search for Yeralis’s guards,” Kjaelle grumbled. “They were with her and they don’t have special hiding enchantments.”

Locals joined them when they entered the town’s streets, some senseless, others shouting encouragement, ghosts rudely speeding past the living in Ether form. They ran with the crowd to the bottom of the hill, where elfines directed traffic with enough aplomb that Vantra guessed they planned and practiced for this eventuality. They even had enchantments that wrapped the panicky in transparent binds to prevent them from stampeding up the path.

At least she now knew why the temple was on high ground. Considering the relative flatness of the surrounding area, she bet Two Rivers constructed it there to keep it from danger and provide a place to congregate if emergencies occurred. Even if the shield did not hold, the populace should be above the water—hopefully.

The ghosts at the top directed them to a lamplit pathway that led behind the temple; on her first visit, Vantra had not realized that the hill continued beyond the structure. The trees at the back hid everything to the north from view, and she guessed the locals preferred visitors to stay near the building front rather than explore.

The pathway wound through the trees, then along a ridge to another, flatter peak. Townspeople were climbing pathways up the backside and to the top, where a tall pole glittering and gleaming with magic stood. Above it, the shielding sparkled and shimmered against the darkness of night, a too-pretty display for the danger it protected from.

“Do you hear that?” Dedari asked, looking towards the river that wound past the shield on their right. The vegetation was sparser, granting a better look at the waves picking up ambient yellow light from the temple beacon.

“That first surge is coming,” Lorgan said, worried. “And it’s big.”

“Red said those Finders knew. Do you think they did?” Kenosera asked as he peered at the trees downslope. Dedari slipped her hand into his and clenched tight, as if the pressure could take the implications away.

“They said we didn’t have much time.” Kjaelle waved them to her and trotted to the left side of the pathway, down far enough the rise hid the river from view. They clustered around her and leaned in. “I have a bad, bad feeling, especially since we can’t sense the Finders. I know we’re supposed to go higher, but I want all of us together.”

“Good idea,” Vesh said. “We can wait for them at the front of the temple.”

The elfine kept to the side of the path as they silently returned to the temple, Vantra at the side, Lorgan and Vesh in back. The Darkness acolytes’ worry infected her, and her nervous apprehension grew. She could cast shields around everyone and hold them until help arrived, but then what? A full magic battle was impossible since they needed to keep the flood shielding intact, and she did not trust the enemy to only wield physical weapons.

She glanced at the nomads and Yut-ta. They wore their fear, but it did not consume them. If she were alive and in their place, she could not say the same. She placed a hand to her chest, remembering the struggle to breathe before she died. Was that similar to drowning? The panic, the mental demand to stay alive and breathe while the body failed . . .

“Verryn—”

“You go, I go.”

“I’m not going.” Red sounded testy and Katta hissed, darkly annoyed. Downslope of the pathway stood the larger group, the Light-blessed with spears ready, while the caravan staff tried to calm the panicky rebbas. Laken floated with Jare and a couple of others just above a bright orange line that circled the hill, watching the argument with grim resolution.

“The three of you aren’t up to this,” Kjaelle said, snappy and unwilling to hide her frustration. The Light-blessed murmured agreement as Katta, Red and Verryn turned their irritation towards the elfine. “Neither are we. Qira, do you really think the Finders knew.”

He rubbed at his eyes and nodded. “I saw the look on her face when the alarm sounded. It means that the dam failure wasn’t an accident, and happened before they confronted us. I don’t know what they expected to do after the waters hit. It’s obvious Two Rivers anticipated this and prepared protections for the town and the caravan field. It’s not like we’re going to get washed away in an unexpected flood.”

“Didn’t Leeyal say the Wiiv attempted to blow one of the dams?” Kenosera asked.

“They did,” Joila said. She stood with Resa, his arm wrapped around her waist, her fingers threaded through his. “If they succeeded this time, they did it with help. Their previous attempts proved they don’t have the magic backing to break dryan water spells on their own—especially since the dryans know they need the extra protections against sabotage.”

Red hissed. “I think another visit to the Hallowed Collective’s in order.”

“I doubt it will do much good,” Verryn muttered.

“If Erse shows up—” Kjaelle began.

“She already has,” Verryn said, dropping his voice. Katta and Red nodded, so the syimlin must have already discussed the visit with them. “She’s concerned about the re-emergence of the mephoric emblems and wanted to speak with Gerant and Imparik about them and the Knights. She said Regarsilla played dumb her entire visit, and it was pointedly an act. The other Councilors are unimpressed with her, but they told Erse that Gerant elevated her before he left.”

“Gerant left?” Lorgan asked, surprised. “He’s averse to traveling anywhere outside Evening unless it’s to a Csadarling resort. And he put Regarsilla in charge? What about Moriom? She’s his second.”

“I heard rumors before we sailed to the Snake’s Den, and Erse confirmed them,” Verryn said. “As far as she could tell, it was a quick, unexpected departure. He left a letter of intent, didn’t speak to any of the councilors, his advisors, or his second, and disappeared. He didn’t say where he was going, and apparently Imparik left a day later, also leaving a letter of intent and not telling anyone where he was going. The councilors are suspicious, Erse is more suspicious, and no one has any answers except maybe Regarsilla—”

The roar of water ripped his words away. The shield vibrated, flickered, held. Screams filled the air, and terrified beings raced along the path, some uncaring who they knocked around to get ahead. Others helped those hurt by the panicked individuals, but no one looked as if they expected to live.

“That was intentional,” Lorgan said, staring up. “Someone’s trying to break the shielding pylon near the top.” He shoved his pack at Dedari, who accepted it with a yelp, triggered Ether Touch, and whisked through the trees. Vantra instinctively zipped after him, fear beating a merry tune through her essence, but she could not let it swallow her. No, she would stand firm. She would—

She felt the mini-Joyful around her, a protective presence, the Touch of several Light-blessed at their back. Not everyone, but enough to stop the destructive malice Lorgan sensed.

Beings fled from the confrontation between two frantic elfine whizen and the Finders. Their target was the thick metal pole shielded by a third whizan. Energized gemstones dangled from a wire wrapped around it, and Vantra guessed they fed the shield spell. The Finders were desperate for the protections to fail, so attacked the source. Why?

Light and Darkness circled the enemy, cutting them off from the elfines. Lorgan zipped to the elfine manning the shield and raised a hand, bluish-green power racing around it. She paused, looked at his hand, the pole, and laughed in shock.

“Nymph water magic!”

“We can hold this,” he said. “As long as we keep those asses from shattering the gems.” The elfine grabbed his hand, gave him her shield trigger, and he passed through without incident. He set his hands on the pole, and the greater shield’s glare intensified.

Vantra froze, her essence quivering. The brightness illuminated the muddy water rushing past; it had not topped the line circling the hill, but it came close. Trees, boulders, awkward chunks and jutting things she could not identify, rolled with the churning, foaming waves. A living being would drown in it and a ghost would have their essence torn apart.

Shudders raced through her, and she could not stamp down on her growing terror. When the surge was an abstract entity, she could fight her fear, but seeing the remains of the destruction the water already caused, knowing it carried more than plant life with it . . .

Laken stopped at her side, and his anxiety filled the bond between them. She set her hand on his back, as much for him as for her. She reminded herself he was her charge, that she had to make certain he survived, hale and whole—well, as hale and whole as a Condemned could be. If something happened to her, she would sever the link and send him back to the Elden Fields so the mini-Joyful could more easily find him—and hopefully the Finders would not realize he had returned until it was too late.

The woman who confronted them earlier touched the shielding, then jerked her hand back as if it burned her fingers. She glared at the two avatars, who ignored her in favor of the pole, then stared at her and Laken. Tiny, squiggly, worm-looking things sped across her eyes. Vantra’s tummy rolled.

She laughed, a fast, choppy sound; the deeper tone did not reflect the voice she used to speak with them earlier. Corruption shot towards them, as speedy as the water.

“The roots!” Vantra yelled. They snaked up from the earth inside the shielding and encircled the group, dragging the amused woman and her shrieking companions into the ground. More erupted in front of her and Laken; they tangled in her legs and wrapped around his torso. Jare grabbed his cloak, and they both disappeared into the mud with yells.

Clear Rays! The roots disintegrated, and she held out her hands. She had to get them back!

“Wait!” Red snarled, grabbing her arm. “Don’t hit the pole. It’ll destroy the shielding gems.”

What?!

“SHIT!”

He fell to her side, and she turned. A small spear pierced his shoulder; his blue eyes widened, and he disappeared in a burst of sparkly Light as it exploded.

Wet splatted her. The momentum of energy hurtled her backwards, and she desperately snatched her wisps as they flew from her, wrapping them tight enough around her core she would not discorporate.

Light from the shield flickered and died.

“QIIIIRRRRAAAAA!”

Darkness descended, pitch black, at Katta’s agonized wail. She could see nothing as she splashed into the water, scraping against heavy debris. Before the swirling mass ripped her essence apart, she triggered Physical Touch and then created a shield. Just in time; she struck an obstacle hard enough that her protections shuddered. She spun about and collided with something that tangled with her. It strained under the pressure to keep her in its grasp as the surge pulled with greater force. She lashed out, trying to break what snagged her; it trembled and fell past her, pulling her down into the depths with it.

Clear Rays would not work. Retravigance would not work. Her mind chittered frantically as she kicked at the dead weight. Whatever held her—branches?—broke free and caught on something else as her shields skidded against roughness. Her essence bumped around and she tried to plant her feet on the next large object, hoping to push off and towards the surface.

Which way was up?

A burst of fear shot through her as the water surrounding her rose—and the fear was not her own. Laken!

She broke the surface in the center of a tree’s foliage. One thick branch skittered across her shielding in front of her eyes and she jerked away, only to tangle in smaller, grasping twigs. A flash of yellow, reminiscent of lightning but not a jagged bolt, bathed her surroundings for a moment before slamming into the water next to her. A giant splash scooped her up and rushed upwards. She shot high over the muddy swirls, chunks of dark somethings soaring with her.

She transitioned to Ether Touch and thrust power into her flagging shielding. Rain bounced off, drumming hard and fast; had the shower gotten worse? That was all she needed.

Purple glowing slits towered far above her, the ominous eyes of a deadly mythic creature. She froze. What was that? A howling shriek louder than the water reached her, and it did not come from the purple-eyed colossus.

Purple-grey power swirling with Darkness formed in a giant, clawed hand. The creature raised it and threw; the mass illuminated a twisted monstrosity of vines and branches, held together by a corrupted Touch of Light, before plowing into it.

The vine creature howled and clumps burst away from the impact site. Dark fell again, and Vantra soared away—she could not get caught in the fight.

A punch of terror filled her. Laken! She followed the link between them; he was underwater, between the creatures.

A flash of yellow broke the darkness, and the purple-eyed creature stumbled back, catching itself. Water splashed high from its step, and debris struck her shields. She concentrated, slapping layer after layer under the outer one. If she lost them, she lost herself.

Her thoughts twirled into panic. If she lost herself, she would meet the Final Death. She was not ready!

Branches rushed at her from overhead. They circled her shielding and jerked her towards the vine creature. She screamed as Clear Rays erupted from her and the branches fell away, flaming, and fell into the muddy swirls.

She could not lose this fight. She would not lose this fight. She had to rescue Laken.

Laken’s link faltered. No no! She screamed again, hoping to drive the terror from her with the sound, and dove towards her Chosen. Purple power lit the area, and she saw vines hovering over a cluster of trees that had been caught against an outcropping. The tips snaked around the wood and yanked the trunks from the water, as if they dug for something. They shuddered and paused as more trees crashed into the mass of broken branches, cracked trunks and tangled roots, then renewed their effort.

She sensed him. Laken! The vines dug for him. A Light shield surrounded him—Jare. Jare was still with him!

She flew into their center and thrust Clear Rays into the plants.

They burst into flames, dissolving into clumps of ash that plopped into the water. She belatedly formed a shield over the area; she did not want contamination to sink down to Laken and Jare. Zipping into the center of the shield, she poured the energy down the link until it struck Laken’s soft blue essence. He responded, grasping it—he knew she was there. Good. She could shine as a beacon for them if they did not know which way was up. And, hopefully, they could climb through the debris to the surface.

Water poured over her shield, interrupting her concentration; Laken slipped away, but Jare caught her Touch. She focused on the protections as the two essences rose towards her.

The shard sang, and she felt heat tingle her essence. The link to her Chosen strengthened, and she realized the Sun-touched object used her as a conduit to intensify her bond. Fine. She did not care. She could ask someone later about how it did that.

Water struck again, debris bouncing off the shield’s surface and leaving cracks while the surge dislodged the trees. The vines renewed their attack, digging into her defense, the pointed tips prying shards away.

“Vantra!”

She jerked up. Jare raised a hand; he and Laken rode on a fat trunk as it collided with others piling up against her shield. Purple flame flared, and the vines fell as ash, sliding down into the eddies.

The giant with the purple eyes roared—a roar with undertones of an elfine’s scream—and violet flame swirled about them, casting all in a violent haze. Vantra dropped her shield and flew to Laken and Jare as the trunk turned to point downstream.

“Don’t go Physical," Jare shouted. "I’ll get Laken to shore.”

The vine creature howled and more water careened towards them. She slapped shields around those Jare already erected and whisked ahead of them, looking for a way to get them to shore.

Another blockade dammed the water, only this one had more than trees forming a barrier. The water splashed against it and crashed backwards, rocking surface objects back and forth. She pivoted in a circle but only saw water, no shoreline. She flew back to them and waited as Jare hopped to another tree, Laken tied to his back with Light magic.

“The debris‘s formed a dam,” she shouted as his footing firmed. “And I don’t know how far the shore is.”

Jare popped his hand into the air so she knew he heard her and crept across the bare trunk. She cupped her hands, made Sunlight, and floated with him, illuminating his way.

A whole tree, earth trailing from the roots, soared overhead. Leaves, shards of wood, and mud showered them.

“What in Death’s Breath are those monsters?” Laken squeaked.

“The purple-eyed one is Kjaelle.”

Vantra, fighting for a coherent thought, stared at Jare. He formed jagged edges around his fingers and dug them into a half-cracked branch before swinging onto a crosswise trunk. “Kjaelle? How?”

“That’s Katta’s Comkada. It means Rage in his native tongue. It’s a monstrous form born of hate for the Beast. It’s a dire construct meant for the most dire battle situations, and since he allows Kjaelle access to himself no one else has, she can swallow it. We need to get out of here; she’s holding back, but I can feel her slipping, and once she enters rage, we won’t be able to bring her back until she’s magically spent.”

Swallowed it? Vantra did not understand, but now was not the time to ask. She left a trail of light across the shuddering debris for Jare to follow and scouted ahead, pushed by dread urgency. Only destroyed foliage, clumps of whatnot, and water met her eyes. Where was land? They needed to reach land. And then . . . and then enter the Labyrinth, because they had no other option of escape.