The Luminous Citadel: Chapters 5 & 6

More of the serial Hollow World story

You can find earlier parts of the serial here, and I’ve included a bit that was previously published to catch you all up with Chapter 5 before starting on the next chapter.

Chapter 5

Dione, Helikon, and the others Wilt did not know were far enough away now that he wasn’t certain who was who. They were converging on something near the distant treeline. Wilt, knowing he couldn’t be of any help to them, tore his eyes off the formation and scanned the meadow, paying attention to the wind ripples, and the rocks. If someone was creeping through the long grasses, he thought, they would disrupt the patterns. The rocks were also an opportunity for concealment. He was thinking of the paintball games he’d taken part in while still in undergraduate. Rough and ready, but some of the players joining them had real tactical experience they had passed on. Wilt was glad now he’d paid attention.

A curious shape in the ceaseless stirring of the meadow caught his attention. It was almost an arrow, pointing straight at him. He stared at it, wondering, then shook his head and did a quick scan, before returning to it. It was, he was sure, moving slowly in his direction. He took a step back, then stopped himself. He gripped the cool metal of his weapon, but did not raise it. Instead, he moved his eyes so he was no longer staring at the spot where something was lurking, stalking him. They could see him, and he wanted them to think he couldn’t see them. Not yet.

Wilt wished there was a way to get a message to the others, who were rising and falling at the treeline. If there was a way to communicate long distances in this world, he hadn’t yet seen it. Nor, he thought, was it possible...

There was a sudden blur of motion and he swung the weird gun up, in the direction of whatever was charging him. The man, creature, whatever it was ran on two legs, but his head was wrapped in loose brown fabric with rags fluttering behind him in motion. Wilt pushed the button.

With an eerie shriek cut short, the attacker went down. He fell into the tall grass and disappeared from view. Wilt stared hard, sweeping his gaze across the meadow near him, within range for another rush, and saw no more telltale arrows. He caught movement from above, and started to track with the weapon, then lowered it, realizing it was some of his friends returning in a hurry to see what had happened. Helikon plummeted from the sky, toes first, then executed a neat snap-roll maneuver that slowed him to a stop a few feet above the grass where Wilt’s attacker must be lying. The grass ripples told Wilt the creature hadn’t moved since he fell.

Dione landed next to Wilt, made a gesture towards him, like she wanted to embrace him, then drew herself upright and gave him a small, formal bow. Wilt returned it, but then kept watch again. Helikon landed in the meadow, and Dione walked out into it to join him. Wilt still didn’t trust himself to have that kind of control over the weird gravity of this place, so he stayed put.

“You aimed well,” Helikon called to Wilt. “We were drawn by a decoy, and this one would have gained entry to the village had you not remained here.”

Wilt nodded. He didn’t know what to say, and was trying not to think about what aiming well really meant in this case.

Dione returned to his side, and this time she did give his forearm a gentle squeeze as she smiled up at him.

“How many more will there be?” Wilt shouted at Helikon, who was making arm gestures, broad enough to be seen by the fliers still airborne.

“Hard to say. We see three, rarely five, in attacks. There are others who do not approach.” Helikon turned and walked with careful movements out of the grass. “They, the ones who do not fight, stay in the shelter of trees. The ones who venture out from the shadows wear coverings over their eyes, because the light pains them.”

Wilt turned this over in his mind. If they had split from the upper peoples, and lived for untold generations in caves, that made sense. They would have adapted to the available light, and this was not a world with any technology he’d seen yet.

Which brought forward a question he’d had fleetingly before. “Have you any books?”

Helikon, as though he had not heard Wilt, turned and spoke to Dione, who answered him with a little worried wrinkle between her eyebrows and a tone that hesitated. Wilt, still on watch for the possibility of more intruders, wished he understood their language, or that Dione could speak in his with Helikon so he knew what they were saying.

One of the distant fliers stooped like a hunting hawk, a flash of silver stretched out before him, and Wilt pointed, with a strangled cry. Helikon and Dione both leapt toward the grassy verge less than a pace from where they were standing, and soared into the air. Wilt paced along the verge, looking again for the telltales of a creeping marauder.

Out in the meadow, there was a brief scuffle between the swordsman who had set upon one of the night people, and then the flier took to the air again. He set his course towards the village, and as he drew close to Wilt, the bloodstain on his side became clear. He landed clumsily, clutching with one hand at the wound. Wilt went to him, and offered his assistance in the form of a shoulder to lean on. He supported the fighter until they were met by three women, who bore a basket with medical supplies, and as they tended to the fighter who lay on the velvet green turf, Wilt turned back towards his self-appointed patrol area. Casualties on both sides now, he thought, and his stomach cramped. This was no game.

Based on Helikon’s confidence, Wilt fully expected another attacker to come. He strained his eyes into the grasses, pacing back and forth along the strangely clean edge between the short turf and the long. His mind picked up irrelevant details about the vegetations, as much as he struggled to stay focused on the possibility that the fight was not over. He was tired, more tired than he thought he should be, when all the tree people turned away from the forest and swooped homewards. Wilt snapped into a tense posture, looking from them towards the ground, but saw nothing.

Then, they landed, Dione by him, the others scattering past him as they touched down and walked, casually, their backs open to the meadow, away from it. Wilt stood looking around, wondering what was happening, his mouth slightly open, but no words coming out because he simply didn’t know what to say. More than ever, he needed to be able to talk to these people.

“Is it over?” He finally spoke aloud.

Dione smiled and took his hand, tugging on it. She couldn’t understand him, and yet, she seemed to have figured out what his question meant. She was leading him away from the field of battle, and Wilt, with one last sweeping look over it, followed her. The skin between his shoulderblades felt itchy.

Helikon came pacing towards them, with Nyssa, as they neared the tree village.

“Is it over?” Wilt asked again, feeling his throat tighten on the words.

Helikon stopped and considered his answer, his face grave. “Over? Perhaps never. Today? Yes. This was a small band and we saw a retreat in progress. They value their men, as do we, and seem to be as short on them as we are.”

“I have so many questions.” Wilt cradled the gun in his arms. “And it seems unfair to unload them all onto you, nor may you have all the answers.”

Helikon inclined his head, perhaps a nod of affirmation. “I do not know everything.”

“Is there a way for me to learn your language? Do you have books? I... am woefully unprepared. None of this,” Wilt jerked his chin, his hands being full, “is anything like what I expected.”

“Your doctor may return for you,” The older man was still emotionless, at least to Wilt’s perception.

“I’m not sure I want to go with him.” Wilt looked sideways, through lowered lashes, at Dione. “I don’t trust him. Not after what he’s done to me, and you said there are others like me? There shouldn’t be. There’s no record of other students here. We were to have been the first.”

“You are... there have been three other groups arrived before you.” Helikon showed a crack in his facial armor and frowned slightly. “We do not count time as you do. It is difficult to say how long between them, and you, but it was not a short time. Perhaps... hundreds of sleeps.”

Wilt blinked and thought about this. Months, years, those made no sense for a people in perpetual daytime. He was feeling exhausted. What time was it? When had he last slept?

“Is it possible for me to see them?” He finally asked, becoming aware he was swaying slightly on his feet. Dione leaned into him, steadying him, but also yawning, with a tiny kittenish noise.

“Not today. You must sleep. It is not an easy journey, as you will have to fly with us.”

Wilt nodded. He’d managed it before. With help, and not worrying about being attacked, it could be done again. Sleep sounded...

“Yes.”

“Come,” Helikon turned and Wilt followed him, Dione walking close enough beside him that their fingers brushed. Wilt had shouldered his weapon, leaving one hand free for her.

They made their way to the trees, and Wilt looked at the dangling ladder in dismay. He had no idea how he was supposed to get up there with his weapon, or for that matter, in his current condition.

“Sleep here, now.” Helikon gestured, and Wilt saw a stack of cushions had been made by the base of the trunk. “We watch.”

Dione dragged a cushion down, and Wilt imitated her. She curled up on hers, and he did the same, one hand always on the peculiar weapon, and he was asleep before he had any more thoughts about the strangeness of this place and these people.

Chapter 6

Wilt awakened with a startle, sitting up, weapon in hand, before his brain caught up to his eyes. Nyssa bent over him, a blanket in her hands which she had been draping over him. Wilt subsided, feeling sheepish, but she just gently squeezed his shoulder before doing the same for her daughter, who didn’t stir as Nyssa tucked the blanket around her.

It was bright as it had been, and Wilt was confused for another moment until he remembered the conversation about night and day, and the lack of the former. He wondered blearily about circadian rhythms and the derangement of biochemical processes before he fell back into sleep, pulling a corner of the blanket over his eyes to fool himself into believing it was dark. He slept on, unconscious of time or anything else.

And again it was full day when he woke up, driven by an urgent bladder and an only slightly less demanding stomach. He looked up at the ladder, the only place to relieve himself was up there, that he knew of. Sitting up and looking around, he realized that the others were split between sleeping as he and Dione were, on scattered cushions loosely arranged around the great tree trunk, and others who were on watch or patrolling.

Wilt folded the blanket back and got up, hoping to see Helikon among the waking warriors. No one particularly paid attention to him, and he didn’t think wandering about was a good idea, so with a sigh he tucked the weapon firmly under one arm and went up the ladder, using his legs mostly to push himself up, and his one free hand to keep his balance. It was not as hard to do this, he realized, when he was too focused on not falling and not disgracing himself with the precious weapon to be afraid of heights. In the house, which was still and empty, he put it down on the table and took care of the more pressing need.

When he emerged again, he found that Nyssa had joined him. He bowed his head to her, and she gave him a smiling nod. She pointed at the cushions by the table, and he sat obediently. A few moments later she brought him a loaf of something dense and nutty, and cut pieces off it, then spread them with something that looked like cheese but wasn’t.

“Thank you,” he said, even though he knew she wouldn’t understand. Then he devoured the food, and the mug of a hot tea sort of drink she also brought. “Thank you,” he breathed, leaning back from the table and taking a deep breath. “That was good.”

She grinned, shrugged, and took his dishes. Wilt felt a pang of guilt that she was waiting on him, but he had no idea where things went, or how to do them, and he couldn’t ask. Frustrated, he put his head through the bead curtain to see her washing the dishes. He sketched her a sort of salute and went back down, to do the one thing he knew how to do here. He could watch. Observing was part of his training, looking at how the pieces of a system fit together, and in this place there were so many missing pieces he wasn’t sure it would ever make any sense to him.

The first missing piece, he decided halfway down the ladder, would be a sling or a holster for this gun. Carrying it everywhere was awkward and probably dangerous. He made it to the ground without disgracing himself, and looked around. Dione was still sound asleep, her hand under her cheek, the blanket cocooned around her. In a perimeter further out, there were a few watchers. Wilt started to work his way around the tree, avoiding the sleepers, looking for Helikon.

There was a shout, and Wilt looked up and around frantically, trying to localize which direction it came from. In this place, it could have been anywhere in a hemisphere... He saw others running, and followed them. They were not heading towards the meadow, but in the other direction, the twisted land with rocky outcrops that reminded him of obelisks or grotesque unfinished statues. He had arrived with Dione from this direction, but he hadn’t been paying much attention at the time. He was not looking at the rocks this time, either. Above them, in a small brightly-colored craft, a flyer was swooping towards the gathering at the edge of the village.

Wilt knew immediately this was not something of the world he was standing on. The nylon wings were a cross between a kite and an ornithopter, as they were held out rigidly with internal bracing, but moved independently, and as he watched, swiveled on a horizontal axis as well. Wilt stood off to the side of the villagers, and as the craft banked, circled, and descended slowly, he could recognize Dr. Sooma’s silver hair. The old man was wearing goggles, but no helmet. He lowered his legs from a strut as the craft neared the ground, and walked it to a stop. Wilt, without fully thinking about it, edged behind the thin group of people, keeping it between him and his teacher.

Dr. Sooma unstrapped himself and lowered the craft, which seemed to be very light indeed, to the ground. He pulled his goggles up onto his head and looked around. None of the villagers approached him. He didn’t seem to have noticed Wilt, but Wilt observed that the older man looked puzzled. He stepped out of the frame, and walked towards the waiting people.

They parted, and that left Wilt face-to-face with the man he didn’t want to talk to.

“Wilt?”

“Hello,” Wilt wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t happy with Dr. Sooma, but without him, he’d never get home again.

“Where is Helikon?”

Wilt shrugged. “I don’t know. I was looking for him, myself.”

“What have you been doing?” Dr. Sooma seemed to see the weapon Wilt was holding for the first time.

“Helping defend this place. How much do you know about this world? What did you mean by leaving me here?”

“Do you want to go back with me? This flyer won’t hold two.”

“I can see that. I don’t want to go, anyway.” Wilt leaned into Sooma’s personal space, realizing he was looking down into the professor’s eyes. “I want answers.”

“In good time, my boy, in good time.”