Mark Newton: The Book of Transformations

‘It’s not enough,’ Fulcrom said. Lan looked at him. ‘We need to take everyone,’ he continued, ‘or there’s no point.’

It seemed no effort to Frater Mercury, who tromped off into the masses once again, and then a boy came and stood before Fulcrom, a scruffy kid who wasn’t young, but not quite a man either.

‘Can I help you?’ Fulcrom asked.

The boy looked wearily to Lan. ‘Is she gonna arrest me if I say I’m an anarchist?’

Fulcrom shrugged. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’

‘Are you?’ the kid said.

‘I’m busy,’ Lan smiled. ‘What do you want?’

‘Name’s Caley,’ the boy replied. ‘You both look like you’re the authority here.’

Fulcrom contemplated the words, but didn’t disagree with the sentiment. No one else had come up with any solutions.

‘I came from Balmacara tonight,’ the boy said. ‘I was with Shalev. I was with her when she stabbed the Emperor, too. I just needed to tell someone important.’

A crowd had gathered behind him, curious as to his words. The boy turned and repeated the statements, describing the evening’s actions of the anarchists, and a murmur rippled through the crowd.

What was the priority? Fulcrom wondered. Getting these people to safety.

‘You want to make yourself useful, Caley, or are you enjoying the power of a little fame?’

Caley turned and spat on the floor. ‘I don’t enjoy power.’

‘Good. Then if you know of any of your cronies in the anarchists, round them up. Any military personnel, point them to me. You’ve good networks: get them doing something beneficial, and spread word that we are all refugees now. Villjamur is no more and we are to evacuate the area. What’s more, that object in the sky is going to eradicate us if we do not flee. We can’t return.’

‘You expect us all to walk across the fucking ice?’ the kid asked.

‘No,’ Fulcrom replied, regarding the crowds. ‘No, that would be suicide. Here’s what’s going to happen.’

*

Ten horses, as tall as city spires, hauled gargantuan platforms across the tundra and through the night. When each hoof connected to the ground, it created a bass groan that shook everyone on board, which meant they weren’t going to get much in the way of sleep tonight, but that was a small price to pay to utilize this most absurd form of transportation.

Fulcrom and Lan huddled together at the front of one such contraption, a wax blanket draped across them both. They shivered, and were holding each other for warmth as much as comfort. The wind pummelled their faces, but at least there was no snow tonight. Open skies and starlight brought a deadly chill. Frater Mercury was perched with arms folded atop of their immense horse, which led the others through the wilderness. Tane lingered nearby, turning back to stare at the city with sharp eyes.

Many miles behind, Villjamur was burning.

They travelled for hours, until a dim-lit haze indicated a new day. Forests stood dark and majestic across the hillside, while large tracts of agricultural land, divided by stone walls, boxed up the landscape.

Lan woke up, and he kissed her forehead.

‘I was hoping to leave the city in milder circumstances,’ he whispered to her.

‘We’re together,’ she replied, groggily. ‘We’re both safe. That’s enough.’

‘But for how long?’ Fulcrom wondered. ‘How did we find ourselves in the centre of all this?’

‘Because we cared,’ Lan offered. ‘Anyone who gives a shit about people will find themselves in the thick of it. People who don’t just sit back and complain while the world messes with them.’

‘You’re a harsh girl tonight,’ he joked.

Lan didn’t reply, merely curled up a little more. He put his arm around her and, as he contemplated their future, his mind desired facts to analyse once again. He wanted to ask about Vuldon, too, about what she had seen at the end. He wondered what happened to Ulryk on the Astronomer’s Glass Tower. There were so many questions that needed answering.

The Book of Transformations

If you read between the lines you will find me. I am here, forming words — I have been transformed, by the wonders of powers I can only begin to fathom, and imprisoned within my own book.

Frater Mercury and I have exchanged places and I can communicate only in script, though I know of no one who will open me up to heed these words.

I can see it all now — every answer I sought is here before me, in the realm into which Frater Mercury was exiled. Though it has broken into ours.

Worlds will collide violently. Already they pour into the other realm, both sides of this apparently eternal war. They bring this conflict to the Boreal Archipelago. I can glean only that it is going to be an immense conflict. There are armies of creatures which I have never before seen, not even in any old texts. They are abhorrent. I can see them now, pouring into the Boreal Archipelago, and their numbers are staggering.

I wish I could do something to help. I will continue my reports here, nonetheless. If these words can act as a warning, I can say only this: prepare yourselves for the battle to come.