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Elijah just kept running, flinging himself through people and homes. Every time he looked back, the darkness just seemed to have grown bigger. Within minutes, it had swallowed half the city in its grasp and still it went. Half-hearted sparks of the timeline fizzled into the air and were abruptly extinguished. Elijah just kept running straight on, his body struggling with the urge to flee versus the urge not to run head first into solid walls. Behind him, those same walls collapsed beneath the encroaching darkness. It had not grown in depth. It was still paper thin, scarcely more than a puddle, but a puddle which was now miles across, its thin base eating through everything it touched. And it was moving faster. Elijah shut his eyes and ran, trying to imagine that he was running through a peaceful green field and trying his very best to block out the screams from behind him.
Elijah wasn’t sure how long he had run for, but when he opened his eyes again he really was standing in a green field. It was the neighing of horses which had alerted him. Not to mention the several thousand people who stood atop them, watching grimly. Behind him, the last of the city’s walls crumbled into the darkness. A few people who had survived the onslaught mingled just outside it. Where a great city had once stood there was now only a thin black ooze. It lay there, as still as a mountain, defying all expectations. There was not a ripple on its surface; there was nothing to give it substance. It was simply nothing.
Elijah looked up into the grim faces of the soldiers surrounding him, the attacking army he realised now, recognising the same red sigils the first attackers had worn. And he realised with a cold certainty that this was exactly what they had wanted.
Elijah opened his eyes and he knew that he had power. He could feel it, burning inside him, an incandescent flame inside the darkness of the Testing Centre. His mouth was dry and he had the vague sensation that he had been talking. He stared at the main door to the testing centre forming the strands of the timeline that flowed through it to his will. Then suddenly it began to rust, flakes of the metal falling to the ground faster than he could see. Then, with a crash, it collapsed, sending a brown cloud into the air that dissipated almost as soon as it appeared. Elijah strained his neck, pulling to his right against the force of the metal bonds. His neck felt like it was going to break. He caught a glimpse of the bond holding his arm and focused all his energy on it. It rusted and fell away in seconds. One arm free, his body was no longer pinned so tightly to the wall and he freed his right leg with ease. Then the wall shuddered and he lurched left. His arms exploded into light, the brightness shining everywhere, but the wall’s movement slammed the right half of his body back against it. His back screamed in pain and his head slammed against the wall, throwing spots in front of his eyes. To his right, the woman who had begun the screaming met his gaze. She stared at him in terror and Elijah hated her for it. Before he even knew what was happening, he felt the power leave him.
“No!” he shouted as the woman was suddenly consumed before his eyes. Her body quickly began to whither, her flesh wrinkling up before Elijah could even think to stop it. Elijah stared at what was left. She couldn’t have been older than her thirties a minute ago and now she stood, fragile as paper against the testing centre wall, her skin withered far beyond the confines of normal aging.
“What have you done to me?” she croaked, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her brown wool robe clinging to her thin frame.
Elijah felt panic fill him. What had he done? He stood there, half hanging off the wall, despair filling him. They had been right to be afraid. What was he?
Into his jumbled thoughts the old voice spoke quietly. “You can’t change her back. At that age, the process would kill her. You need to get out of here, now.”
Suddenly, the Siren burst through the air, splitting Elijah’s eardrums. The pain lurched him out of his reverie. The old man was right, they were coming for him. Looking quickly to his left he destroyed the other bonds holding him and dropped quickly to the floor, landing awkwardly. He looked back behind him to free the voice, but then snapped his eyes shut. He couldn’t control it. He couldn’t control what he was.
“Oh sure, you go ahead,” the old man said. “Just leave me here to be enslaved, that’s fine, I’ve no problems with that whatsoever. I mean, at least I’ll keep my tongue, not having the power of a Seer anymore and all that, and I’ve heard there’s good work in the mines for people who are too old to lift a pickaxe so I don’t really know what I’m complaining about…”
“I can’t…” Elijah croaked.
“Of course you can!” the old man shouted. “You are truly useless! When I was your age I’d killed dozens of people and did I get all whiney about it? No! Now free me before they decide to take out my tongue just for talking to you!”
In the distance, Elijah began to make out the sound of shouted orders over the wail of the Siren. He was right. They were coming. He looked up and focused the last of his energy on the restraints that held the old man. He felt nauseous as he forced it out, his vision blurring. Within seconds, they had rusted and his fellow prisoner was free. Elijah gasped, falling to his knees and clutching his stomach.
“Well, are you coming or not?” the old man asked, already ahead of him. He moved fast for someone over a hundred years old. “I haven’t seen someone this bad at escaping since the Fall.”
Chapter 6 – The Mines
“I want to see him get tested,” said Sybil. “I need to know if he really is one of them.” She’d know if she saw a real one. She felt sure of that. And he just hadn’t seemed threatening… just very scared. Hardly terrorist material.
Sam shrugged. “You know the rules, none are to stay during the Testing. It’s too dangerous to have anyone below a Pulse-Master present and even they only examine them one at a time. Besides, whether he’s a Seer or not the destination’s the same. We can’t have more Earthlanders coming up here, it wouldn’t be safe. The mines are the best place for them.”
“I know the rules,” snapped Sybil. “Let me go to the mines then. Let me see them strap the chain around his neck.”
Sam pondered the request for a moment. “I can understand your need for justice,” he indicated her bloodied face. “But Students may never enter the mines. They have no purpose there.”
He turned away, but Sybil grabbed his wrist, yanking him back. “You outrank me only in this area Sam,” she growled. “Maybe there’s an area where you need help? Wait until I’m a Pulse-Master. I could make life very easy for you...”
The Guardian shook her grip off, turning away. “The answer is no Sybil.”
But Sybil just yanked his arm back, spinning him back around until he faced her. They were alone in the narrow corridor and she stared at him intensely. “Do it for me Sam,” she said. “For old time’s sake.”
Sam’s forehead creased with worry. There was something about the narrow space and the intensity of her gaze. It reminded him of their childhood. She had always pushed boundaries, whether they needed it or not. And usually that push was more of a shove. It’s what he’d always liked about her. “It will have to be quick,” he relinquished.
The two left the Testing Centre and walked quickly south. The power shard mines were all located on the edge of the islands, close to the Testing Centre and away from the centre of the Pulse. After a short while, they reached the entrance. It was guarded only by one low level Guardian who glowered at them briefly as they approached. He glanced at the crest emblazoned on Sam’s chest, twin swords set across a picture of an island, and then waved them through. He didn’t question Sybil’s presence. If Sam was with her, that was enough.
As soon as they entered the mine, the sun went out, to be replaced by the eerie glow of a shard-powered light bulb. Sybil blinked rapidly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the more muted light. Beneath her feet, the path sloped quickly down, almost vertically, and Sybil struggled to keep her balance on the rocky ground.
“Are you OK?” asked Sam, an amused smile on his lips as he watc
hed her struggle down the path.
“I’m fine,” spat back Sybil, sharper than she had intended. Almost instantly, she slipped on a rock, almost falling flat before Sam caught her wrist with one hand.
“Careful now,” he said.
Sybil snatched her wrist back angrily and picked up her pace, concentrating furiously on keeping her balance on the treacherous ground. As she walked, the sound of pickaxes became louder and louder. After about five minutes walking the sounds became more distinctive, voices and shouts becoming separated from the endless drudgery of steel on stone.After ten minutes, the shouts and voices separated into orders and screams. By the time Sybil reached the bottom she could even hear the beat of the Pulse from the foremen monitoring the slaves.
The mines were filled with countless bodies, with about a dozen tunnels stretching out from a huge cavern. The slaves were lined up at each one, passing dirt back and forth in chain gangs. There was no uniformity in them. Some were tall, lanky men who moved the buckets of dirt with ease. Others were shorter and younger, about her age, and still others were ancient, a miracle given most slaves only survived a year or two in the mines. An old woman stared up at her as she arrived, haggard eyes accusing in a lined and withered face. Sybil tried to ignore her. The woman wouldn’t stop looking however, her eyes becoming more and more intense as she stared. The beat of the Pulse surged briefly in Sybil’s mind and the woman opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Sybil stared in horror at the emptiness in her mouth where her tongue should have been. She must have been here for years.
“Get back to work!” shouted a foreman. The beat of the Pulse rose again and the woman dropped her gaze away from Sybil, her shoulders slumped in pain.
“The testing should be in another fifteen minutes,” stated Sam emotionlessly. “They’ll bring them in to be chained then.”
Sybil nodded, staring at the slaves. Every so often, a free miner moved among them, but the slaves dominated the cavern.
“Why are there so many?” she asked.
Sam shrugged. “That’s obvious Sybil. There’s always more Earthlanders trying to sneak into the Skylands. Besides, we need the extra labour to keep the mines efficient. It’d be too expensive if they were all free.”
“I know that,” stuttered Sybil, trying to keep her voice confident, but unable to keep her eyes off the seething mass of flesh and chains. “But there are restrictions, I mean, since the Fall?”
Sam nodded. “Yes, a minimum of four tenths must be free men or Skylanders. They are working the outer edges. It’s more efficient to keep the slaves here, passing buckets. Most are not strong enough for digging.”
Sybil nodded. Before her eyes, a girl no older than nine years old fell to her knees beneath the weight of a bucket. She had black hair and blue eyes. Sybil breathed heavily, watching as she stumbled to her feet, only to fall again. It felt hot in the cavern suddenly, the walls seeming to close in on her. It felt like hours since she had last seen the sky. Sybil shook her head, trying to clear it. In front of her, a pile of buckets was building up behind the girl. She was blocking the traffic.
‘It could be me’, she realised abruptly. She shook her head, dispelling the thought. That was ridiculous. Only Earthlanders could be imprisoned in the mines.
‘But what if they found out?’ she closed her eyes tightly. No. There was nothing to find out. She was no Seer. She had a few nosebleeds that was all. There were no Seers in the Skylands. They were pure, perfect. It could not happen. Had never happened.
‘Then why is your nose bleeding?’ the voice asked. Sybil started, pulling a sleeve across her face. But there was nothing there. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the stench of sweat from the slaves. There was nothing there. She had nosebleeds, headaches, that was it. There was nothing more behind it, could not be anything more behind it. In her ears, the beat of the Pulse rose and she watched as a foreman punished the girl for allowing the pile to build up behind her. The sound of pickaxes got louder in the cavern. The walls seemed to move closer. The stench of sweat became deeper. Sybil began breathing rapidly, short, quick breathes. She could feel sweat on her palms.
“Are you all right?” asked Sam beside her, worry in his eyes. Sybil straightened quickly, only now realising she was bent over double.
“Just a bit claustrophobic,” she stammered.
“Well your catch should be here any minute now,” Sam said.
“Great,” answered Sybil. Then her eyes met the face of the child. She had fallen again. She heard the Pulse rise and fall as the foreman beat her. She was so young. Sybil had known from birth that the Skylands were superior and that the Earthlanders hated them for it. That made them all dangerous, men, women and children. But something inside her refused to accept the beating of a child. You could work them for the sake of efficiency. You could enslave them to discourage immigration. But she could not think of one good reason to beat them. It was wrong.
“Stop!” she shouted, her voice sounding weak against the sounds of digging. The foreman looked up, a bare chested brute of a man wearing white trousers, cut off at the knees. He saw Sybil and deciding that he must have been imagining what he’d heard, continued on beating the girl. She fell again, her head hitting a rock. A silver pendant slipped out from underneath her brown robe. The foreman stepped forward and snatched it up, easily breaking the silver chain from around the girl’s neck. He eyed the pendant suspiciously. Meanwhile Sybil had had enough talking. She felt the beat of the Pulse rise in her mind and threw it at the side of the foreman’s head.
“What are you doing Sybil?” Sam shouted.
The foreman turned his attention to her, barely phased. He was a big man and Sybil hadn’t hit hard. She didn’t want a fight she just wanted his attention. She pushed herself through the throng of slaves, trying her best to not meet their gaze, aiming for the girl.
“Students aren’t allowed down here,” the foreman snarled, his face a picture of righteous indignation. “Managing the slaves is our job.”
“She’s a child and she’s no use to you dead.” Replied Sybil levelly. The foreman gave a nasty laugh. “She hasn’t been much use alive either has she?”
He kicked the girl in the head who gave a single shriek of pain before going terribly still. Sybil kneeled down beside her. The girl wasn’t breathing. Sybil felt rage fill her. They couldn’t do this! This wasn’t the Earthlands, there was law and order here.
“You’re a murderer,” she said in as level a voice as she could manage. “Sam, arrest this man.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. The foreman just laughed again and jangled the pendant in front of Sybil’s nose. “I am well within my rights little Student. This here was a young little terrorist under my care. Their lives are forfeit as soon as they come down here. And I get to choose when I take them.”
Sybil snatched the pendant out of the air and examined it. Atop the back was inscribed the ancient symbol of the Seers. She relaxed a little then. That was OK then, it was all compliant with the law. There was still order in the Skylands, there was always order. Beside her, the little girl continued to bleed out into the ground. Sybil didn’t look at her. Her death was right. She knew that. It was all compliant with prescribed procedures and yet something within her stirred. Something told her that it was wrong anyway, that maybe the procedures were wrong. She tried to ignore it.
Suddenly in the distance, she heard the sound of the Siren. There was a change in the beat of the Pulse in her mind and a message sounded.
“This is an emergency broadcast: a Seer has escaped from the Testing Centre. All citizens are advised to stay indoors until the threat has been apprehended. All Guardians please be advised: the threat was last seen on route 119.”
Sybil looked at Sam who looked grim. “It looks like your Seer was real after all,” he said. Beside Sybil, the foreman grinned, a twisted expression that was more frightening than any of his beatings. “That’s why I like to get them when they’re young,”
he said.
Above ground, Sybil breathed in deeply, letting the cool caress of the wind wash over her, her thoughts a jumble. It was dark, but the Orock in the Skyscrapers glowed faintly, painting the night in an eerie shade of green. She still held the pendant in her hand. She didn’t know why she’d kept it. It was a dangerous relic of a time when the Seers had all but ruled the world. When they had almost destroyed it. She should destroy the pendant. That was the prescribed procedure.
“If you’re quite done defending the rights of terrorists, there’s a Seer still out there,” said Sam pointedly. Sybil shook her head and stuffed the pendant into her pocket. Sam was right. She hadn’t time for this. If she’d caught him once, she could catch him again – before he did any more damage. Together, they turned north-west and began to run towards route 119. The buildings flew past in a blur. Sybil kept her gaze straight ahead, sprinting with quick easy strides. Route 119 was close to the mines and she was guessing that the Seer was using it to make his way towards the edge of the island. If they made it towards the far end fast enough, they could intercept them. Without warning, two figures suddenly hurtled out of an alley. The first knocked into Sam, sending him sprawling and landing in a pile beside him. The second, an old man by the looks of it, just kept running. Sybil concentrated on the Pulse, allowing it to grow in her mind. Then, as he stumbled to his feet, she saw the face of the guy who had knocked over Sam. Her breath caught in her throat.He looked so like the girl in the mine. The same high cheekbones and blue eyes. He was the same age as Sybil. He stared back at her in terror, transfixed. Then the spell broke and he ran, flinging himself away from Sam’s sprawled body.