The Devoured Earth

* * * *

The Devoured

Earth

[The Cataclysm 04]

By Sean Williams

Scanned & Proofed By MadMaxAU

* * * *

What does it mean to be human? It’s more

than the right number of arms, legs, fingers

and toes, the ability to talk, and walking

upright. It’s more than the Change and the art

we make. It’s more than all of this, and less.

We follow a path through the realms that

makes us uniquely different to any other

creature. Not all the realms, for there are

more than we can imagine, of every possible

flavour and logic. We inhabit just three, and

they define our character as surely as a fish is

defined by the sea or a snake by the earth.

That’s not to say that we can’t aspire to

transcend the limitations of our environment.

We are dreamers, we humans, and what lies

outside has always held a fascination. But we

must remember that the achievement of that

dream carries a high price. Sometimes the

boundary is too easy to cross. We should not

lightly set aside our humanity, because it’s not

always possible to get it back.

A SCRIBE’S BOOK OF QUESTIONS

* * * *

Out of the darkness, something came — something as alien to the human mind as it was to the world humans inhabited. It passed through realms as easily as a beast might cross a stream, yet it was not, by nature, a wanderer. It possessed desires no earthly being had ever imagined; it craved satiation in ways beyond description.

It
hungered
.

But it told itself to be patient. Its time was nearing. Soon, the waiting and watching would be over, and the human world would know its face.

Then its need, finally, would be fulfilled.

* * * *

THE BREACH

‘What is the shape of the world?

The answer to that question depends entirely on

where you are standing.’

A SCRIBE’S BOOK OF QUESTIONS

verything hurt. Skender could barely move without confronting that grim reality. From the pounding of his temples to the chill biting at his toes, not one part of his body had been spared. His appetite was nonexistent, he was unable to sleep, and when he stood up too fast his head spun like a top. The tea brewed by Griel and his two Panic balloonists to ward off the worst of the symptoms of altitude sickness filled his bladder faster than ordinary tea, so he spent much of every day wanting to take a leak.

He refused to say anything, though, and not just because he knew everyone aboard the blimp was feeling the same effects of the staggered ascent as him. The memories of Chu’s dismissive, even rough, attitude when he was water-sick while sailing the flooded Divide were still fresh. That she was also sick this time around wouldn’t stop her exploiting an opportunity to needle him.

He felt her watching him even as he concentrated on Mage Kelloman’s suncatching charm. Opening one eye a crack, he saw her standing at the fore of the boat-like gondola, near Griel. Her black hair glowed with mahogany highlights in the sun. The skin of her cheeks was as golden-brown as the wooden instrument panel before her.

Dressed in a heavy woollen overcoat and gloves, she had swivelled slightly to look back at him. A faint smile floated on her full lips. His whole body tingled in response. Although the blimp was the biggest he had ever seen and the balloon supported an enclosed gondola roomy enough for thirty people, he had never craved privacy so much as he had during every moment of their journey so far. Barely had Chu told him her heart-name than they had been whisked out of the Panic city and taken to Milang, where Marmion had coordinated the expedition to the top of the mountains, the biggest ever undertaken according to local records.

Since then, the only moments Chu and Skender had found to be alone came very late at night, when everyone else was asleep, or during brief mountaineering expeditions while the blimp was moored to a jagged cliff face. And even then, with altitude sickness clawing at their guts and skulls, there was only so much they felt like doing.

Hana
, he whispered to himself.
Hana, I think I
—

‘Eyes on the job, my boy,’ said a gruff, high-pitched voice from beside him. ‘Eyes on the job, or you and your friend will never get a second’s peace.’

Skender clenched his eyes shut and ignored the red-hot flush rising up to fill his cheeks. He hadn’t meant his thoughts to wander so much, let alone leak to the point where Mage Kelloman could pick up the details.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, clutching at the shreds of his concentration, and his dignity. ‘I didn’t mean —’

‘Don’t get your tights in a tangle.’ Mage Kelloman’s slender hand touched his shoulder. ‘We’re all tired and impatient, easily distracted. But the end is in sight. By this night’s fall, we could finally be on level ground. Think of it — so much stone and bedrock to explore! None of this scavenging for the sun’s meagre rays. We’ll have real power then, boy. We’ll be in our element.’

‘What’s that, Mage Kelloman?’ came Sky Warden Eisak Marmion’s voice from the fore of the gondola. ‘Is the strain proving too much? We could pause and allow you a breather, if you’d like.’

‘I certainly would not,’ the mage said, his tone artificially crisp. ‘I was merely remarking to my young friend here that we could provide a little more lift. If you can handle it, of course.’

Marmion tilted his head. ‘More lift, not less? Are you sure?’

‘As sure as eggs. I, for one, am keen to stretch my legs.’

‘You speak for us all, I suspect.’ A rustle of agreement swept through the gondola, from Griel and the Panic tending the balloon’s stays and control surfaces to Lidia Delfine. Even the twins, so often caught in their own private world, nodded.

‘Very well, then. One final push and it will be done. Thank you, Mage Kelloman. When you’re ready, we’ll put your extra effort to good use.’

Kelloman bowed with exaggerated dignity, giving the body of his host — a young woman whose mind had long since fled — gravitas far beyond its years.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Skender hissed to him. The wardens returned to charms made by Panic Engineers and reinforced by foresters in Milang. ‘We’re stretched too thin as it is!’

‘Quiet, boy.’ The mage made a minute adjustment to the pattern scorched onto the wooden floor of the gondola at his feet. ‘We have work to do.’

‘But —’

‘
Work
. This isn’t a holiday, you know.’

Skender swallowed his irritation and sought the still centre required to shore up the mage’s effort. Their job was simple: to draw energy from the sun and channel it into the balloon’s many charms. Griel, Chu and Marmion ensured the charms were employed against thinning air and strengthening winds. Skender felt, however, that Kelloman was putting too much emphasis on their end of the deal. Yes, he was the only mage for hundreds of kilometres and, outnumbered on all fronts, correspondingly determined to make his presence felt. But that didn’t justify nearly killing them both in the process.

Forty pinpricks made him jump as the mage’s pet — a tiny brown-furred bilby with pointed ears, big eyes and sharp claws — leapt into his lap and climbed onto his shoulder. He patted it, encouraging it to settle.

‘Concentrate, boy,’ the mage growled through his borrowed lips. Skender willed himself to stop thinking entirely, so that through the Change and his link with Kelloman he dissolved into the charms enveloping the skin of the blimp. As well as being larger than any other balloon in the forest, it was easily one of the most complex machines he had ever seen. From the glowing rotors thrumming outside the gondola — two each to port and starboard — to the web of charms maintaining everything from elevation to insulation, the blimp required constant attention to make sure it functioned as required.

A strong gust of wind shook the blimp, making his stomach lurch. His eyes opened automatically, just for a second. Chu was at the controls, helping Griel adjust their flight. Beyond the windows was nothing but blue sky to the west, black and grey everywhere else. The monstrous mountain range still loomed over them, even as they approached its summit. And Kelloman wanted to turn the situation to his advantage! Sometimes that thought made Skender want to laugh. Other times it made him want to turn tail and hide.

Instead, he simply crossed his fingers and hoped for the best.

* * * *

They had left Milang six days earlier, ascending into the clouds three dawns after fire had nearly burned the forest city to the ground. The mission was a cooperative venture: everyone caught up in the awakening of forces from the previous Cataclysm had joined together to find out what was to the north-east, where the twins assured them the greatest threat lay. No one knew quite what to expect. Skender didn’t take any encouragement from the floods, murderous wraiths, earthquakes and man’kin invasions that he and others had already endured. With no seers remaining to peer into the future, all they had to go on were a smattering of hints from prophecies old and new, plus their own wits.

A series of delicate soundings taken, firstly, at Milang, and then at several points along their journey, unveiled the shape of the mountain range beyond the region known to the Panic and the people of the forest. It was in fact several mountain ranges — at least seven — converging on a central point like a giant starfish with limbs reaching across the plains. At the intersection of those limbs the earth bulged up in a mighty rupture. This, the highest point of the mountain ranges, was the mission’s primary destination. Kelloman’s soundings weren’t clear enough to tell what exactly lay there, but he spoke in guarded terms of a circular patch of elevated land several kilometres across, surrounded by peaks that shook and rumbled under the influence of forces Skender could barely imagine.

When the balloon had reached the limits of the foresters’ geographical knowledge and then flown beyond even the charts of the Panic, they relied on Kelloman’s soundings to find their way through steep valleys and broad fissures, rising further and further with every hour.

On the second day, they had punched through the uppermost layers of the permanent cloud cover hugging the lower ranges and valleys to find themselves flying for the first time in clear air. From then on, navigation became somewhat easier, but the daunting mass of mountain looming above them reminded them not to become complacent: vast shelfs of snow and ice lay ahead, just as dangerous in its own way as the cloud. The balloon could not fly continuously, and safe docking points had become harder and harder to find. The whining sound of chimerical engines echoed off sheer rock faces, occasionally triggering avalanches of stupendous proportions.