Doesn’t Ring A Bell

  Skye tried to remember the shape of the cave as he’d seen it from above. There was a single exit to this catacomb, located behind the stage where the monster stood. Hiding and waiting for the wardens to leave was dangerous; his petrification was worsening by the second, and he needed what little flexibility remained to climb out.

  He had to sneak out now.

  Keeping low, he crept between rocks toward the exit. Wardens zipped through the air on gusts of wind or trails of crimson fire. Others stonesurfed toward the hole his team had fallen through.

  With his clothes half-petrified, he clunked and clopped as he crawled. To his ears, it was a cacophony. But he hoped the distance and the shouts masked the noise.

  Miraculously, he reached the stage’s edge. Upon it, the monster sat dormant, like a burning statue. Its right leg was missing. Skye hadn’t seen the creature hurl it during the chaos; the whole cave had been shaking with explosions.

  It turned its head slowly, grinding its sharp teeth. The warden with the seashell crown stood beside it, close enough to admire the fires, far enough to not taste them.

  “Marvelous! A living masterpiece!” the warden said, arms raised. “The next generation of elexii is here! Stronger, smarter! For the first time ever, we have an elexos that can think!”

  A stonesurfing dais rushed in, carrying a group of wardens.

  “We don’t need it to think,” said the leader as he descended. “We need it to obey.”

  Everyone still wore their hoods. Skye considered creeping closer to peek at their faces, but it was too big a risk. He stayed put.

  “An intelligent subordinate serves better than a brainless one,” the seashell warden replied. “As is evident here.”

  “Shut it, you…” the leader hissed. “Forget that now. How long do you need to create the others? Will they be ready for the festival?”

  Skye’s brows knit. What others? What festival?

  The seashell warden barked a laugh. “Aha! Pyroxii are arguably the hardest to make. Since I got this one right, I say I can produce… six more intelligent elexii by Green Eve.”

  Skye leaned in closer to the edge, his heart pounding in his ears. What are they planning?

  The leader joined the seashell warden, turning his back to Skye as they admired the burning monster. “We’ll have to test them before we send them into the city. I know you. I don’t want any unforeseen complications.”

  The word city made Skye flinch.

  “Hey!” the seashell warden snapped. “Don’t underestimate my genius! I assure you, once I’m done with these lovelies, Troqua will know carnage like never before.”

  Skye had to clap shut his mouth to not scream. His lungs seized. His stomach churned as waves of nausea overtook his senses. A terrible need to pee spiked within, and he had to squeeze his legs tightly to not leak.

  These wardens—the great defenders of Troqua—were planning on attacking the city on Green Eve.

  Everyone he knew, his friends and family, his neighbors, random people in the streets, were in mortal danger.

  “It can understand advanced commands without prior training,” the seashell warden said. “Watch. Pyroxos, dance for me.”

  Balancing on one leg, the monster struggled to stand. It swayed, then crashed on its behind, causing the watching wardens to roar with laughter.

  A warden flew overhead. They were combing the cave, making sure no one else was here. It wouldn’t be long before someone discovered him.

  This was no longer about his survival anymore. He had to run back to the city to warn everyone of the attack. And the best time to do that was while everyone was distracted.

  Crouching, he slipped behind the stage, dodging between stalagmites and shadows at the edge, near the walls. Several times he had to run among the rocks like a fleeing rat, his heart lurching whenever he made a sound. He made it to the edge of the stone forest undetected, then stared at the final barren stretch to the mouth of the tunnel.

  Behind, the monster had managed to stand at last. It waved an arm, tilting its head as though listening to music. Jumping, it spun, dragging its scythe-like claws across its rocky chest, then bowed, like a seductive dancer.

  The wardens hollered and clapped. One shouted, “Go faster!” And the monster toppled in its attempt to comply, causing everyone to laugh harder.

  Skye felt an odd empathy for the horrid creature. For all the atrocities elexii had committed across history, none were ever known to clap and dance with the blood of their victims still warm. What had Basalt said about ‘the greatest threat’ again?

  These wardens… these heartless men and women, they were the true monsters.

  He turned to the exit, too disgusted to look at them anymore. Fifty feet of open ground separated him from escape. He checked again, making sure no wardens patrolled this area, then got down and began crawling.

  Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.

  This was suicide. It was a terrible, stupid plan, and he had no idea why he went along with it. His progress was slow; at this pace, it’d take him minutes to reach the other side, during which anyone on the stage could see him. He contemplated turning back when he heard a shout.

  “Hey! There’s a kid over there!”

  Skye bolted for the exit as cries of alarm echoed throughout the cave. He forced himself to stare forward, focusing on nothing but the ache of his joints and the burning in his chest.

  Winds howled behind. Stones grinded. Shadows danced as flames rushed to burn him.

  The monster’s roar tore through the cave. It crawled towards Skye, its claws screeching against stone. Skye’s blood chilled.

  Idon’twannadieIdon’twannadieIdon’twannadie!

  Surrounded, he reached for the mental tether of his bell, summoning it. Whatever it had done the last time, it had saved his life. And now, out of choices, he had no reason to fear its chime.

  Jumping behind cover, he pulled the tether.

  DING!

  Skye hid at the mouth of the tunnel. The chaos he’d stirred evaporated faster than it had started. Projectiles disappeared. Wardens turned, continuing their search deeper inside the cave. Grunting, the monster returned to the stage, its claws scraping the ground as it dragged itself forward.

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  Wide-eyed, Skye stared at the bizarre scene, struggling to breathe. Had they… forgotten about him somehow?

  Still shaking, he turned and crept into the darkness, not daring to make a sound.

  He’d lost his hard hat and backpack in the fall, along with all his equipment and maps. Luckily, he had a backup photrine in his pocket.

  Light bloomed in the dark. He looked around, frowning at the unfamiliar layout and strange formations. This was not a path he knew.

  A crash sounded behind, and another fit of laughter overtook the wardens. Skye’s fists clenched, a scream stuck at his throat. His teammates’ blood hadn’t hardened yet and these heartless clowns were acting as if murder had bored them. As if planning to kill everyone as simply a part of their everyday work.

  He would expose them. He’d share the truth with the whole city and stop their plans.

  **********

  Skye found the Gateway abandoned, the stalls covered with white linen sheets as if asleep. Only a few small bats fluttered about, dining on a swarm of mosquitoes.

  Fear fueled his momentum. Fear of turning into a lifeless figurine, sentenced to spend eternity alone in the darkness with no hope of ever seeing the sky.

  When he bent his legs, his kneecaps popped. When he stepped, his soles cracked further. His arms swung beside him, limp ornaments of bone and flesh with a coating of stone. Tasting salty, his tongue resided heavily in his mouth, hardened like an old piece of leather. And the blood and tears on his cheeks had long gone dry, leaving trenches through the dirt.

  The constables’ station was built into a hollow halfway down the main hallway leading back to the city.

  Laughter and the stench of alcohol and tobacco invaded his nose the moment he entered. Four officers sat around a table in the first underfloor, shouting over a game of cards, a dense cloud of smoke filling the space. Unlike the wardens, the constables’ uniforms were olive green, and their shirts and surcoats checkered with white.

  “Necro, boy!” swore an old officer with a thick gray mustache. “What are you doing here at this hour, looking like that?”

  “Water,” Skye rasped, his throat raw from the effort.

  “This place is no charity. You want a free drink, go to the lake,” grunted another officer. He was large and burly, with a red beard. An empty bottle resided on the table before him.

  “Coals, Kitsil,” said the youngest of the group, a man with a soft, round face. “The boy looks half-dead.” He stood and poured water from a large clay jug. “Here, boy.”

  Skye drank eagerly, the cool liquid sinking into the cracks of his petrifying body. He asked for more and was granted.

  “Why’re you giving him our water?” Kitsil -the large officer- grumbled. “I’m sick of his kind. They refuse to work real jobs, spend their time chasing delusions in the Deeps, then come begging for scraps from honest folk.”

  Skye bit his lip, holding back tears.

  The officer was right. Doctor Stenser and Rierana were right. If he hadn’t acted like a stubborn mule and avoided the Deeps like they’d told him, his teammates would still be alive.

  Why did he survive while they died? What right did he have to be here now?

  “What’s the matter kid?” the fourth officer asked, taking a drag on his cigarette. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “No, a monster. A burning monster,” Skye whispered. The officers raised eyebrows. “There’s a monster in the Deeps and…” His throat knotted at the memory, and he couldn’t continue.

  The officers exchanged a skeptical glance. Then shook their heads.

  “Again with those stories?” Kitsil snapped. “Spreading rumors makes you feel better, huh? Think lying about fake monsters will make you less of a failed prospector?”

  Skye stumbled back, his cup spilling water. He wasn’t lying. The monster was real; they had to believe him.

  “He probably spent too long underground for his sanity,” the smoking officer said, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Get some rest, kid, you’ll feel better tomorrow. And stop going under alone.”

  “I wasn’t alone,” Skye said, his face flushing with heat. “I had a team. Three men. They’re all dead.”

  The officers went still, staring at him, wide-eyed. His heartbeat quickened.

  “The burning monster, what did it look like?” the mustachioed officer asked.

  “It… looked like a man, except its flesh was made of fires,” Skye replied. “It wore a suit of charred stones, but it hated it. Wanted it off. And it had horns like a giant goat.”

  The officer twirled his mustache, squinting at Skye.

  “This… monster killed your teammates?” the young officer asked.

  “Yes—no,” Skye said, exasperated. “The wardens did. They made the monster attack us.”

  “Wardens?” The smoking officer leaned forward. “There was a monster in the Deeps and wardens. And instead of going after the monster, the wardens attacked you?”

  “Yes.” Skye sighed. The officers stared at him with disdain, as if he were insane. He glared back. “There were over twenty of them, and five died fighting my teammates.”

  “Your teammates killed five monsters?!” the old officer asked in a mix of confusion and mockery.

  “Wardens!” Skye snapped.

  “The wardens killed five monsters?” the youngest asked.

  “No!” Skye yelled, getting desperate. “My teammates killed five wardens.”

  “Wait, I’m confused,” the smoking officer said. “Who killed who again?”

  Skye stomped his foot. “The wardens attacked us, and we fought back. Three of my teammates and five of the wardens died. Is this so hard to understand?”

  “Let me get this straight,” Kitsil started, an eyebrow raised. “Three of your prospector friends took out five wardens?”

  “Basalt the stonemason was our team leader,” Skye clarified. “And Gideom was a luminary.”

  “Basalt who?” the young officer asked.

  “An infamous ex-constable turned prospector,” the old constable muttered. “If he’s dead, I say good riddance.”

  Skye gaped at the comment, his breathing growing ragged.

  Kitsil chuckled. “Two prospectors bested five wardens? That’s your story?”

  “Yes!” Skye yelled. What was he laughing at?

  “What was the monster doing during the fight?” the smoking officer asked, looking annoyed. “Dancing?”

  “It…” Skye gritted his teeth. If they didn’t believe the last part, they’d never believe the rest. “It was under the wardens’ control. They said they created it. It killed Basalt. Though, they… made it dance after they slaughtered my team.”

  Kitsil slammed a fist on the table rattling cups and cards, startling everyone. “Do we look like idiots to you, boy?!” he roared, rising to his feet. “You come here spouting nonsense, mocking the heroes of our nation, and expect us to accept your lies?”

  Skye backed a step. “I’m not lying!” he shouted, barely holding back his tears. “They said they’ll unleash the monsters on the city. You have to believe me!”

  The old officer leaned back, his mustache twitching with every word. “Spreading these kinds of rumors about wardens is dangerous, boy. It will bring heaps of trouble over your head.”

  “They are not rumors!” Skye shouted. “I saw them. I heard them. If we don’t warn everyone—”

  Kitsil pointed at the door, raising his oversized geodoise club. “Get the Void out of here before I start a rumor about a stupid brat who bashed his skull exploring the Deeps!”

  Skye flinched, strength draining from him. After barely managing to escape, after pushing himself for hours in the cold, dark underground, he was going to be done in by an officer who didn’t believe him? All his suffering was for nothing?

  “Calm down, Kitsil.” The young officer rose as well, gently lowering the astrum. He turned to Skye, his face hard. “Listen, kid, I’ll give you one last chance to retell your story properly. If you don’t start making sense, I’ll throw you in the dungeon for endangering public safety by spreading malicious rumors and slandering the wardens. Understood?”

  Skye inhaled deeply, like the doctor taught him.

  Starting from the beginning, he recounted their trip: their journey through the Deeps, the cave-in which he reckoned was caused by the monster’s rebellion, the wardens’ attempt to control the creature, then his team’s fall. When he reached his team’s deaths, he choked up, unable to continue lest he cries.

  Everyone was dead. Heavens above, everyone was dead! Basalt had asked him to save Joshem, but he failed. Gideom’s last word was ‘LIVE’, but Skye wanted nothing more than to roll up in a hole in the ground and die.

  Kitsil gulped the rest of his cup. “What a load of coals. He can’t even fake cry properly.”

  Skye clenched his fists, breathing fast. Most of his skin was petrified and it hurt to move, but he’d bet ten radethysts that it’d hurt more to get clobbered by stonified fists.

  “Calm down, kid,” the young officer said. He handed Skye another cup of water, basically shoving it in his face. “Then what happened? How did you escape?”

  Skye drank, unclenching his fists before they cracked. “I don’t know how to explain it.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “This… bell appeared out of nowhere and rang on its own. It’s been pressing against the back of my mind for months, like a river swelling behind a dam, until everything broke apart down there.

  “It made the wardens forget me somehow. Erased my footmarks too. I got caught trying to escape, but I managed to summon it again at the last moment. When it rang, the wardens and monster stopped chasing me.”

  “Oh, just throw him in the Void already!” Kitsil shouted, rising again. “Don’t encourage his nonsense!”

  “A bell you say?” the young officer asked, ignoring Kitsil. “Can you summon it now?”

  Skye hesitated. “I can try.” He closed his eyes, reaching for that faint tone of anticipation inside him. The pulsing dread. The uncertainty. He tugged at it and the bell appeared, hovering nearby “Here it is!”

  “Where?” The young officer scowled, glancing around. “I don’t see anything.”

  “It’s right here!” Skye pointed at the patinated bell. It floated away as he turned, always at the edge of his vision. “It’s flying around. Can’t you see it?”

  “That’s it!” Kitsil bellowed, grabbing his club astrum again. “The boy’s mad. Down to the dungeons with you.”

  “No!” Skye shouted, hands raised before him. “I’m telling the truth! Those wardens will attack on Green Eve. We have to stop them!”

  “Did you see their faces?” the old officer asked, finally taking this seriously. “Can you recognize their voices?”

  Skye looked up in memory. “Gideom blew a light bomb that blurred my vision. And my ears were still ringing from the explosions.”

  “Do you have any information we can use? Learned any names?” the old officer insisted.

  Skye stared, a muscle working in his jaw. He’d been so scared he’d rushed outside without even thinking of acquiring evidence.

  They were right. He did sound crazy.