Vigilance (The Aeternum Chronicles Book 2), page 17
Just then Oren walked up. His hair was falling into his face and his shirt was soaked with sweat. “What’s all the commotion?”
“I finally got it!” Clem exclaimed, completely forgetting her annoyance with Thomes.
“Excellent work,” said Thomes.
“Can I try it again?” she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.
“You may, but first there are some rules you need to know. The principles behind imbrication—pairing bent and inverted light—are too complex for me to describe in detail just now, but I will do my best to put it simply. It may appear that you are creating two separate surfaces, one light and one dark. This is an illusion. They are actually one and the same. What you are doing is manifesting an aperture; a small wrinkle in space-time.” Thomes produced a small pencil and a sheet of parchment from his cloak. He drew two points, a few inches apart, and held the parchment out flat before Clem. “What is the shortest distance between these two points?”
“A straight line,” Oren interrupted.
Thomes looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.
Oren grinned abashedly and muttered, “Sorry.”
“Under normal circumstances, Oren would be correct. Through gathering, however, circumstances become anything but normal. When you imbricate an aperture, linking a surface of bent light with an inverted one, they appear side by side. In reality, they are more like two sides of the same coin.” Thomes bent the parchment in half so that the two dots were touching, then poked the end of his pencil through it.
“And so the distance between the two points becomes zero. The only difference is that instead of exerting the effort to traverse the distance, you instead exert effort to fold reality, bringing the two points together.”
“You can do that?” Oren asked, looking at Clem with awe.
“Not only can she do it,” Thomes answered, “she’s picked it up faster than nearly any student I’ve ever taught.”
Clem beamed. Her mind was racing with possibilities and practical applications of this newly discovered talent.
“That being said, it is important, Clementine, that you do not become overconfident. When it comes to imbrication, there can be severe consequences to even the smallest mistake.” Thomes nodded to the stone, sliced clean in half. “Maintaining an aperture requires intense concentration. Should it break, anything caught within will be severed, just as that stone was.”
Clem pulled the two halves of the stone apart, studying the flat space where they had been separated. There were wavy brown patterns where the minerals had formed.
“In addition, it takes no small amount of effort and energy to maintain. Go ahead, release your kai and stand for a moment.”
Clem uncrossed her legs and stood. She immediately stumbled, her knees were wobbly and unsteady. Oren moved in and placed his hands at her elbow and back.
“Thanks,” she said smiling at him, a little embarrassed.
“With practice, it will take less of a toll, but until then, you must be very careful. Overextending yourself will leave you vulnerable.”
“Got it,” Clem said, still riding high. “…and thank you.” She smiled at Thomes, having decided to forgive him for the whole bug thing. “Would that thing really have stung me like you said?”
“This?” He removed the lid from the canister and dumped the gold insect into the palm of his hand. “No, it’s only a knitting beetle. I apologize for the deception, but it was necessary to distract you from yourself. Sometimes, we are our own worst enemy.”
“What’s a knitting beetle?” asked Oren.
Thomes tapped the shiny, gold reflective surface of the insect. “This little fella secrets saliva that keeps wounds from becoming infected. He also eats away dead flesh, helping to prepare a wound for suturing.” He slid the beetle back into the canister and replaced the perforated lid.
There was a deep rumble and the ground trembled slightly beneath them. Clem suddenly realized it had been quite some time since the last quake. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad one. Another rumble echoed the first, this time from overhead. Seconds later, fat raindrops began falling from above in an unyielding downpour.
“Gather your things!” Thomes shouted over the rain.
The three continued their journey deeper into the jungle, completely drenched. Occasionally the canopy would provide some shelter from the downpour, but for the most part the rain poured down through the leafy boughs above, splashing and dripping over them as they traveled. Clem ducked her head low, pressing forward through the thick vegetation. It was slow going as they plodded along. She had to fight to pull her foot free from the mud every third step, and on more than one occasion it came loose without her boot. All in all it was a miserable slog, leaving her wet, uncomfortable, and exhausted.
After hours of drudgery, the rain finally subsided. Steam rose from the ground as the water began to evaporate. Thomes led them into a small clearing where a felled tree had created a gap in the canopy, allowing a few shafts of sunlight through.
“We’ll break here for mid-day,” said Thomes.
After dumping the water from their boots and eating a brief meal of dried fruit and nuts, they continued on, weaving their way between thick tree trunks and ducking under massive fronds.
The afternoon was slightly less miserable than the morning, and Thomes seemed happy that they were making good time. Clem didn’t care. Her mood once again sank. This jungle, and everything in it is miserable. Thomes had claimed there were people who had once lived here, but she found it hard to believe. Who would actually spend time here by choice?
The light once again began to fade, and Thomes halted before another lectulo tree.
“We’ll make camp—”
Thomes stopped mid-sentence and listened as a loud crashing echoed through the jungle. It sounded like it was a ways off.
“What was that?” Clem asked.
“Hopefully nothing we’ll need to concern ourselves with,” Thomes replied. Before they could ask any more questions, he continued, “We’ll camp here for the night. I’m going to do some investigating. You two can set up camp.” With that, he set down his pack and walked off into the trees until he was out of sight.
Clem looked at Oren, and found her confusion reflected back in his face. He shrugged, and began preparing his bed in one of the large leaves of the lectulo. Clem did the same. She was once again exhausted, but not so tired she couldn’t eat.
“Think we’ll be able to get a fire going?” she asked. Thomes was usually the one to manage that part of making camp. She wasn’t entirely sure how he did it, considering how wet everything was, but she suspected gathering was involved.
Oren finished tying off his leaf-bed and turned to survey the area. “Good question. I doubt we’ll find a scrap of dry wood in this entire jungle.”
“The impossible task…well it’s not like that’s ever stopped us from trying.”
“Good point,” Oren said, smiling.
The light was fading, and Clem couldn’t help but notice how the shadows cast upon his face made him look so much older than he had, back in New Arcadia. She had accepted that the boy she knew was gone, but until now, she hadn’t been sure what that meant. Looking at him, she was beginning to believe that the piece of him she’d always cared so deeply for might still remain.
They set about collecting small branches and twigs. Clem had a stroke of luck—the lectulo tree’s massive leaves had sheltered parts of the ground from the downpour, creating small dry patches. She gathered up as much kindling as she could and piled it in the middle of their clearing. It appeared Oren had some luck as well. He returned with several dried branches.
They combined their efforts, and after several tries, a spark took. The fire miraculously sprung to life, pushing back the darkness and casting dancing shadows on the surrounding leaves and trees.
“We did it!” Clem smiled at him, and he grinned back.
Together they re-hydrated and cooked up some strips of dried aga meat, along with a side of canned mushrooms Clem had been saving. Once the food was ready, they set some aside for Thomes, and sat side by side to share the meal.
“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Oren asked.
“The aga strips?” Clem responded, still chewing.
Oren nodded.
“The Miralaja feels like forever ago,” she said. “It’s funny. It’s almost like the further we travel, the longer time stretches out.”
“Tell me about it.”
They enjoyed the rest of the meal in relative silence. The night creatures of the jungle were beginning to awaken, calling out to each other.
Clem glanced at Oren, then quickly looked away. There was so much she wanted to say, now that they finally had a moment alone, but she couldn’t figure out how to begin. Eventually she figured she just had to say something, anything to break the ice.
“Do you think—”
“Sorry we ha—”
They both spoke at once.
“You go ahead,” Clem said, before he could.
Oren looked at her for a long moment, then turned to the fire and spoke. “Things have been pretty crazy lately, haven’t they?”
Boil it. What was he going to say? “You can say that again,” Clem agreed, a little disappointed.
The fire crackled, sending smoke up to the dark sky. Clem could see a small strip of the Calleis ring through the leaves high above.
“Oren,” Clem said, watching him watch the fire.
He breathed deep, wearing a troubled expression, then turned to her. “I’m sorry we haven’t had much of a chance to talk since Tectum caverns…”
“What with the shadowgate, breakers, Eros, and angry spirits?” Clem asked. “Stop making excuses Oren,” she said sarcastically with a smile.
Oren simply continued watching the fire.
This is not how this conversation was supposed to go, Clem thought. “Sorry,” she said, regretting the attempt to lighten the mood.
“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve been amazing, incredible even, throughout all of it. So much so that I often wonder how you do it.” He turned to her.
His eyes…so much pain. She had to resist the powerful urge to wrap her arms around him.
“The loss, the betrayal, the feeling that our world is on the brink of collapse. It’s like a weight on my shoulders, Clem. It’s so heavy that sometimes it feels like I can’t take another step.”
Clem looked down at his hand resting on the ground, and placed hers upon it before looking back into his eyes.
He sighed, turning his gaze down toward the ground between his feet. “It’s just that…I’ve been having trouble, remembering who I used to be, the kinds of things I used to think about, what it felt like to be carefree. It’s like trying to look into another person’s life.” He looked up from the ground and into her eyes. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, Clem. It’s like parts of me are turning off, little by little, and I’m afraid when this is all over…I’m afraid there’ll be nothing of me left.”
“Oren, listen to me,” Clem said, “You are more than a collection of thoughts, feelings, and memories. I have seen your kindness, your compassion, your willingness to care. None of that has changed. You have a good heart—nothing can change that. It’s who you are…” Maker, don’t let me regret this, “It’s the reason I fell—”
“Everything is falling apart around us, Clem,” he interrupted, “How are we supposed to make time for anything more than what we have to do? Everyone is saying the world is ending, and I think they might be right.”
“Don’t you understand?” Clem leaned in toward him. “This”—she gestured between them—“this is the very thing that will save our world.”
Oren looked up at her, his eyes glistening in the firelight. His voice came in a husky whisper, “Everyone close to me dies, Clem. I…”
Clem felt her blood growing hot, and pursed her lips. “If how you feel about me has changed, then fine, I can deal with that, but if you push me away because you want to protect me—no, I refuse. You don’t get to choose what risks I take.”
Oren breathed a small laugh, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He lifted his head and his eyes met hers. “You don’t think it would be selfish? Given everything we still have to do?”
“I think that if we don’t use the time we have, we might not make it through this at all.”
Clem felt his hand gripping hers, and he looked into her eyes. All at once the hardened man, forged by battle and loss was replaced with the boy she once knew from New Arcadia. Only there was something more…Beneath his lowered guard was a deep, churning well of emotion. She realized then, that Oren had taken it all on. He had claimed every death, every betrayal, and every defeat. With overwhelming compassion, she placed her hand to his cheek. He moved closer, and she drew him forward, closing her eyes.
“We will need to set up—oh.”
Clem opened her eyes to see Thomes standing at the edge of the clearing, looking awkwardly aside.
Boiling man! Could you not have waited just one more minute?
“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to—”
Oren had released her hand and quickly stood. “Need to set up what?”
Thomes cleared his throat, “Ah, yes, we will need to set up a perimeter and keep watch tonight.”
Clem took another look at Oren, then sighed and asked, “Why? What’s changed?”
Thomes didn’t answer, appearing distracted by his own thoughts.
Oren stood. “If there’s a threat, we need to know as much about it as possible.”
“Hm?” Thomes looked up, “Yes, yes of course. It would appear this part of the jungle still harbors some active defense protocols.”
“Defense protocols?” Clem asked.
Thomes nodded. “We are entering the territory of the Yagua.”
“Yagua...?” Oren asked, again trying to rest his hand on the hilt of a sword that wasn’t there.
“Indeed. They are the ancient peoples who once inhabited this jungle. They themselves have been gone for centuries, but their legacy remains, hidden deep within the Pekatalu.”
“When you say defense protocols, you mean like falling logs, spike pits, that kind of thing?” asked Oren.
“Oh no, nothing so rudimentary as that. The Yagua were a rare occurrence—a technologically advanced tribe that had maintained its cultural roots and traditional way of life.”
“So what exactly is it we need to watch out for?” Clem asked.
“On the surface, the Yagua were a simple people, but hidden beneath their seemingly primitive exterior was a wealth of technical knowledge.”
Clem perked up. “Technical knowledge? As in geo-tech?”
“No, their understanding was not derived from stones and minerals. They learned how to harness and manipulate the organic, biological components that make up the life in this forest. At its peak, their civilization had developed networks stretching throughout this entire jungle. Nothing happened here without them knowing about it.
“So what happened to them?” asked Oren.
“The same threat that destroyed so many others found its way to their doorstep.”
“The Voss,” Oren said.
Thomes nodded. “Gabrial Penumbra learned of the very thing we seek, and demanded access to the Tesseract. When the Yagua refused, he waged war upon them. They fought back using the jungle and its creatures to repel the foreign invaders. It was an effective strategy, protecting them for a number of years. Eventually, however, the Yagua too, fell to the Voss. Once Gabrial understood he couldn’t defeat them using brute force, he began looking for alternatives. He understood that their power was derived from physiology, and began experimenting with diseases. Eventually, he found a way to infect the Yagua guardians with a degenerative disease. Their intelligence withered away, leaving them feral and mad, to the point of turning on those they were meant to defend.”
“Guardians?” asked Clem. Getting Thomes to the point was sometimes a lengthy endeavor.
“The protectors, great creatures bred specifically to defend the villages and their people.”
“How will we know if they are coming?” Oren asked, squatting down to poke the fire.
“They are territorial, and unlikely to engage here, but we will need to post a watch, to be safe.” Thomes looked down at the fire and cook pots. “Ah, you’ve saved me some dinner. My thanks.” He sat down and began to eat.
There was another distant crash that sounded like a massive falling tree. Oren and Clem looked at each other nervously.
“I will take the first watch,” Thomes spoke between bites, “You two should get some sleep. Tomorrow may prove…challenging.”
“What’s tomorrow?” asked Oren.
“Tomorrow, we enter the Yagua temple, and engage the Tesseract.”
Clem looked at Oren, concern creasing her brow.
‘An encounter with the Tesseract can result in the loss of a part of yourself.’
Thomes’ words echoed in her head, and the fear that had been nagging at her the past two weeks suddenly reared its ugly head. I should have spent more time trying to figure out these boiling schematics. If I had, maybe Oren wouldn’t have to do this…and here I’ve been selfishly wasting time trying to bend light. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Oren met her gaze for a long moment, smiled from the corner of his mouth, and wished her and Thomes a good night before crawling into his raised leaf bed.
Clem felt the metal tube tucked into her inner vest pocket. She was exhausted, but guilt drove her to sit beside the fire with the schematics unfurled. Eventually the many crossing lines and symbols began to blur and double, and she knew there was nothing new she would learn that night.
She glanced up to see Thomes’ back as he faced out into the jungle. He sat on a large rock, his long gray cloak draping down to the ground behind him. Clem felt divided right down the middle. Yes, they had little time to discover what Gabrial was planning, but there had to be another way…one that didn’t put Oren in danger. But maybe that was just how things were now. Danger had become a constant companion for both of them. As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t always protect Oren, especially when he was being a stubborn bull-headed mule.
