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Chapter 8
Nadia opened her eyes but was not surprised by the dreary sight that met her. She had seen it before and experienced the same dread Harmiston was now.
The sky above was hidden behind thick and dark gray clouds, the occasional lightning giving some color. They were not like lightning in other realms but differed in colors from pink to orange. Thunder cracked, but not loud.
She sat up with care and noticed they had come out on a rocky hillside with cold berg under them and plenty of pebbles and rocks around and under them. Further down to their left, was the opening to the main tunnel which led down to the city. Unlike its counterpart down on the city grounds, the door was still intact here. If not, the fumes would be unbearable inside the tunnel despite its size.
“We stood down there,” she told Harmiston, who sat up next to her. “They opened those doors for us and let us have a look. That was all. No one went outside. But it was enough to hammer in the truth of what had happened up here. What our ancestors did to our realm. Not one of us would ever doubt the truth of it. We all need to stay down there until the rest of the Agartha Realm heals. There’s no life up here.”
They looked out over the landscape that unfolded in front of them. What had once been hills and valleys and plains in between still were, but everything was dark, gray, and brown. Nothing flourished, hardly anything grew. The sun was blocked out. Only the rain could pass through those heavy and toxic clouds. Scattered out on the ground was dust and ashes, fragments that blew in the chilly wind.
“As a boy, I heard that the sky we see reflected down in the city, isn’t the true Agarthan sky. I didn’t believe that.”
“I suppose that’s both true and not. That sky is up there, we just don’t see it now. Only the mages’ magic can make that happen.”
Harmiston looked around at the desolation. “It’s worse than anything I’ve ever been told or imagined.”
The only sounds were those of the wind, the weak thunder, and the occasional rock rolling down the hill they were on. No birds were tweeting like Nadia had heard in other realms. Nor was there any burble of fresh water in a stream. It wasn’t quiet, exactly, but there was no sound of life.
“I suppose,” he went on, “that we hear all these stories about how the land up here needs to heal. And we expect it to, but …”
“It will take longer than the tales will have us know.”
“Exactly.” Harmiston nodded. “I kind of see it now. Why the mages were punished for this. The wars and the magic they used as weapons destroyed our realm. It’s a miracle our people didn’t die out.”
“Not a miracle,” Nadia countered. “Merely hard work and smart thinking.”
Harmiston smiled, leaned in, and kissed her no doubt dirty cheek. “That is the pragmatic thinking one would expect from a member of either of the Queen’s guards.”
Nadia shrugged. “I am what they made me.”
“No,” he argued. “Remember how many that fail to become Wraiths? It takes a certain type of person to withstand and develop in that environment.”
Nadia patted his knee and then got up. “I was a smart-mouth too.”
“Really?” he said and did the same. “I would have loved to hear that.”
“I bet you would since you’re a chatter-mouth. Now, where to?” She took in the view, looking for any signs of life instead of focusing on the lack of it.
“I don’t see any Wraiths standing around,” he pointed out.
“No. I’m not sure tracks linger all that long in this wind either. But I’d like to take a look down by that gate.” She frowned. “We saw hybrids pass that checkpoint in the tunnel earlier, so they obviously came up here.”
“Whatever for?” Harmiston asked with a moue of disgust on his face. “It’s not like they don’t have everything they want down in the city. You know, power, free blood, ugh …”
“Yes. So it has to be something worthwhile for them,” Nadia concluded. She glanced down herself and began patting her clothes, brushing off dirt from the tunnel. “We need to conceal ourselves again.”
Harmiston nodded and did the same. The bland asphodel they had put on before the crawl up, had been brushed off them in the air well, and the one they were to put on now, would work better if it was on them and their clothes, not layers of dirt that would fall off.
“We better mark this air well,” Harmiston said. “It’s going to be difficult to find later.”
He was right. At a distance, spotting it among all the rocks would be a challenge.
“I can locate it by smell,” she said. “Although I don’t think the sandwiches I brought are going to cut it.”
Harmiston narrowed his eyes and peered at the tiny opening. Then, he half loosed his right fist and raised it towards his chest, looking like he was practicing a speech before a red light emerged from that fist and floated toward the opening.
Nadia drew a deep breath and was suddenly flooded with a rich familiar floral smell. It existed in so many realms.
