Nick James - Crimson rising

The stairs lead us to a separate room that branches from the roof in a sphere of glass. It reminds me of an enormous Pearl. All it’s missing is a green glow.

We stand at a narrow landing, squeezed up against the man in black. I take the chance to peer around the side of his face and search for features that might give me an indication of who-or what-this guy is.

He looks a little like Ryel, and it fools me at first. I even whisper his name, not that he’s able to hear me. The differences make themselves known in time. Longer nose, a scar just in front of his left ear, and most worryingly, the glint of red in his eyes.

I don’t have time to linger, as the doorway to the room opens before us. The man strides in without hesitation. Cassius and I tiptoe behind. We arrive on a vast expanse of carpet, exquisitely detailed in pattern and shape. The designs meld and flow into place, cycling around each other in a slow, hypnotic pace. The longer I look at it, the less convinced I am that it’s carpet at all. Nothing here is completely as it seems at first glance.

The glass walls of the spherical chamber are entirely translucent. I glance behind me and marvel at the endless fortress below us. I can’t tell where it ends. Maybe it never does. I peer through the glass ceilings. Pathways of silver-white light form an impressive maze of corridors and rooms. I’m reminded of the images I saw after Ryel’s cube activated. Lights. Everywhere.

And it’s true. Everything is like this. All around the structure, 360 degrees.

I notice more bubbles like ours, rising into the air above the paths of light in the distance. But beyond that everything’s more or less at the same level. It’s like the carpet under our feet-an unending patchwork. A grid stretching into the horizon.

There’s smoke, too. Or clouds of some sort. It’s difficult to see them in the night, under the stars. The lights of the complexes show me the difference. Some are brighter. Others shine from beneath a layer of thick atmosphere. The man kneels in front of us, knees on the ever-changing carpet, head bowed. “King Matigo.” His voice is barely above a whisper, as if he’s afraid to speak at all.

I break from the cityscape outside to focus on the inside of the room.

Cassius nudges my side. “Hey, do you see anybody?” “What?”

“Look.” He points past the man in black to an enormous, rounded desk. It’s not made of wood, or metal, but some stone-like substance that reminds me of granite. “It’s just red, right? You see it too?”

I blink. Then it snaps into focus, out of nowhere. A figure sits behind the structure, glowing such an intense red that I can barely look at him. I can’t discern any features, only the faintest idea of a shape. And even that’s blurry. It’s like a black hole of Red Pearl energy. And to my astonishment it moves. And talks.

“Lieutenant Thamus,” the voice starts. It’s halfway between a boom and a whisper. An impossible voice. “Number 976. Do I have that correct?”

“Of course, sir.”

The red energy flickers. “I was gazing at the stars, wondering.”

There’s a pause, but Cassius breaks the silence. “It’s Matigo,” he whispers. “Are we on Haven?”

I push his shoulder. “Shh.”

He takes a cautious step forward. “I don’t think they can hear me.”

The red energy pulses. “Aren’t you going to ask me for clarification?” Matigo’s voice changes again. It’s more thunderous now. Muffled, even, like it’s coming from a broken speaker.

Lieutenant Thamus stands, hands clasped behind his back. “Of course, sir.”

Something pounds the top of the desk. It could have been Matigo’s fist, but there’s no way to be sure through the glare of the energy. “I was wondering why we’ve yet to quantify the number of stars in the universe. I’m compelled to conduct an inventory.”

The lieutenant nods. “Perhaps after our mission is complete, sir.”

“Perhaps.” He pauses. The energy dulls for a moment. “I was also wondering about tomorrow. I am concerned.”

Thamus bows again. “I understand completely.”

“Our foremost experts have assured me that the process will run smoothly. These past three months have been hard on him. The initiation… it is not always pleasant, especially for such a young body. But he has his father’s talents.” He pauses. “And I don’t intend to back down. I am not a coward, and neither is my son. If it is good enough for the Resistance, it is good enough for me.”

Thamus takes a deep breath. “Everything has been orchestrated with great precision. Every variable has been considered. We have eliminated the possibility of surprise.”

The energy pulses. “You’ve come to collect him, then?”

“If King Matigo wishes it.”

Cassius tiptoes forward, past the lieutenant and closer to the desk.

Matigo speaks. “I don’t fear for his life. Death is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I would sacrifice a child ten times over to see this through.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” The energy flickers. “The Resistance has already sent their champions, and with them, an attempt at blocking our systems. Ridium is the key to our success. If the Resistance hadn’t coerced a Shifter, we would not be having this discussion now.”

“Yes,” Thamus says. “We are still investigating the possibility of a defector.”

The energy quivers, as if sighing. “It doesn’t matter who did it. All remaining Ridium is under the Authority’s control once again. There’s precious little left after our initial assault on Earth. Haven’s southern most pits are more heavily guarded than ever before. They may have halted our efforts momentarily, but the dam will puncture. It is inevitable.”

I look at Cassius. “The Scarlet Bombings. Do you think that’s how they got the Ridium under the surface of Earth?”

He shrugs.

Thamus swallows. “May I ask you a question, sir?”

It’s silent for a moment. The energy softens. “You may.”

“Why him? Why your son?”

Matigo takes his time before responding. For a second I think he’s going to ignore the question altogether, but then the energy moves again. “You might ask the Resistance the same thing. I have become a target in this war. Those close to me have become targets. There are other Shifters on this planet, but they will have their own ambitions. There is a legacy to uphold. I cannot make this journey, not yet. Not until I know that it is safe. And if I cannot do it, someone of royal blood must be allowed the honor.” He pauses. “You will take him to the pits at dawn and he will be submerged in Ridium. I have team of Shifters ready to construct his craft and get him safely to Earth. Then, when the time is right, I will send a Herald after him and our invasion will begin.”

Lieutenant Thamus nods. “What if he will not go willingly?”

“He is my son.” Matigo laughs. “He is honored by the opportunity. He is excited.”

Cassius creeps around the side of the desk, trying to get closer to the energy. When he’s near enough to reach out a hand and touch it, something pushes him back. He glances at me, eyes wide with surprise. “It’s like there’s a wall here,” he whispers. “It’s not even warm or anything. It’s just… nothing.”

I shake my head, unable to give any explanation.

Just then, something catches my eye, off to the side of the room. A boy appears from nowhere, sitting on a stool next to the wall, twirling a dagger in his hand. He hadn’t been there before, I’m sure of it. Thamus ignores him completely. There’s no indication that Matigo’s seen him either.

I crouch low to look at the boy’s face. He can’t be any older than five. His brown hair covers the tops of his eyes so that it’s hard to get a decent look at them. The blade of the dagger reflects light from the city beyond as it shifts effortlessly through his fingers. “Cassius.” I keep my voice low. “Come over here.”