Destroyer of Worlds

1

In the alleys and winding streets of the Court of Endless Horizons, the dark was impenetrable. Ruth and Tom were en route from a false lead of a distressed Fragile Creature hiding in the grand marble interior of the Hall of Records when the gloom descended on the city. As the temperature plunged and the sun disappeared from view, Tom dragged Ruth into one of the deserted side alleys that, from the vile stench, had clearly been used as a toilet. His quick thinking saved them both from the frenzied crush that thundered down the street. People crashed through windows or had the life squeezed from them against the walls or underfoot.

Ruth covered her ears to block out the agonised screams and dying calls of the victims, which somehow stood out from the panicked roar of the crowd.

Although Tom stood next to her, she couldn't see him until she brought up her spear — the Blue Fire limning the head was just enough to illuminate the Rhymer's worried features.

'What have they done?' she said.

'The Enemy decided killing the Caretaker and blowing up huge chunks of the city wasn't enough. They've made it their place now.'

Faint lights appeared in the main street, but they were so dim it took Ruth and Tom a moment to realise that their illumination was being smothered almost as much as the sun's rays. Figures felt their way hesitantly along the now-deserted street, searching for the path back to the place where they laid their heads. As the thin lights passed, Ruth occasionally glimpsed the outlines of those who had fallen.

'We should get back to Church,' Ruth began. 'Regroup, decide what we're going to do now-'

Tom silenced her with a sharp squeeze on her arm. 'Do you hear something?'

Feeling along the wall, they came to the end of the alley. Across the way someone was trying to light one of the streetlamps. In the silence that had not existed in the street for many months, the hiss of the oil resonated, but from beyond it came the measured step of several feet on the cobbles and the ring of metal catching against walls.

Unable to pierce the darkness that lay at the end of the street, Ruth and Tom watched, neither realising they were holding their breath in anticipation. In the distance, tiny lights bobbed like fireflies, the dim torches of people stumbling home. When one winked out, Ruth thought her eyes were tricking her. But then a second and a third disappeared, and when the fourth extinguished it was accompanied by a faint cry.

'The Enemy is coming,' Tom said redundantly.

He tried to pull Ruth back into the alley, but she resisted. 'I want to see what we're up against.'

The soupy darkness didn't give up its ghosts until they were almost upon Ruth and Tom's hiding place. Emerging from the unfolding black were figures that echoed the transformed victims of the blast Ruth had seen in the marketplace: the flesh had been stripped from their skulls, though the roving eyes remained, and into the bone had been embedded studs that created a mosaic effect; red and green feathers tufted from the back of a simple circlet headdress. They wore only a metal band across their shoulders that ended in a gold amulet, and a scarlet and orange cloth bound around their loins and fastened by a thick gold belt. A round shield fringed with feathers was strapped to their left forearm and in that hand they carried a wooden club. In their right hand they gripped a wooden spear with an obsidian blade.

'What are they — Aztec? Mayan? Incan?' Ruth whispered.

Though her voice was barely audible, the head of the nearest warrior cranked around in her direction. Tom pulled her back into the alley. Pressed against the wall and listening, Ruth could tell the warrior was poised to investigate. Before it could make any move, however, it was distracted by a man staggering towards the single flickering streetlamp. Instantly, the warrior ran forwards, driving his spear into the man's gut and up so that the shocked victim didn't even have time to cry out as he was lifted aloft. Thrashing wildly, he expired within a moment. The warrior dumped the body and continued after his comrades, the tip of his spear rattling across the cobbles.

Across the street others from the small band entered the buildings and brought screams within seconds. Though the warriors' numbers were small, their slaughter was systematic.

Levelling her spear, Ruth prepared to run across the street until Tom grabbed her forcefully. 'Take a break from being an idiot,' he snapped. 'There's one of you, and however good you are with that spear and your Craft, you won't last long out there.'

Ruth hesitated, then nodded. 'Let's find the others.'

As they set off down the alley, Ruth glanced back once, but the dark had already swallowed the street. The screams lingered, though, joining together to become one devastating cry of terror.