J. Mitchell - The Severed Tower

MIRA’S FLASHLIGHT FINALLY FOUND what she was looking for. A school bus, an old one, crashed into what was left of a pair of military Jeeps. A giant message was spray-painted across its length, next to a large painted version of the δ symbol.

The sun had set an hour ago and everything was dark except for the flashes of purple lightning in the distance and the beams from two huge, razor-straight pillars of light that shot up into the sky fifty or so miles away. They were Gravity Wells, Mira knew, and one of them was a place she didn’t have very fond memories of.

The Mix Master. The place where she had failed. The source of all her fear and self-doubt. But that was the last thing she wanted to think about now.

Mira’s light shone across the bus, and she felt a chill looking at it. There was no way to know if it had been full of kids when the Strange Lands formed, but still, the black windows that stared lifelessly outward were haunting.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ravan studied the crude writing on the bus. The line of Menagerie stretched back behind her into the dark, and Max watched them warily from the hood of an old Mercedes. One thing about having the pirates with them, they drew the dog’s suspicions more than Mira. She was kind of getting used to having the mutt around. And he didn’t smell all that bad, she guessed.

“It’s an Anomaly warning.” Mira pulled her Lexicon off her shoulder and set it down on the hood of the Mercedes next to Max. “Catalogued so Freebooters can look it up.” The large book was sealed shut by two metal locks on either end, and she used a tiny key hanging from one of her necklaces to unlock it. Inside the front cover, three different names were scrawled along with Mira’s. The book’s previous owners. Other Lexicons had more names, only because Mira had managed to survive the Strange Lands much longer than most.

The book had three bindings that unfolded into separate parts, each with its own collection of papers, notes, drawings, and diagrams. The first section held artifact combination schematics, instructions for building them. It was the largest section in Mira’s Lexicon, but that wasn’t a surprise. Artifact creation was her specialty.

The second section contained maps of the Strange Lands. Illustrations for each ring and for the Core, as well as detailed maps for important areas of each one. But it was the third section Mira turned to now, a catalog of Strange Lands Anomalies. Mira’s was complete, for the most part, with the exception of a few inside the Core.

The Anomalies were organized by type (stable or unstable) and the ring they existed in. Mira shuffled through the pages for ring one until she found R1-3, Grindhouse. She folded out the section and studied it. She knew how the Anomaly worked, but Ben had always led her through it. If she was going to have to take point, she wanted to cover her bases.

There were drawings and notes, information on what she should expect, and Mira tried to ignore the queasiness she felt as she studied the pages. Her fingers moved over a specific diagram that showed a crude representation of a sphere, with writing underneath it:

Sub-Anomaly: Condenser Spheres.

Effect: Violent compaction of mass.

Catalyst: Touch only, no draw effect.

Movement: Very slow drift, random direction, direction is constant.

Natural Visibility: Invisible.

Incidental Visibility: Visible after direct contact, three to five seconds.

Suggestions: Reveal location from distance, map locations, determine route through Anomaly, move fast.

That last part was what bothered her. “Move fast.” That was going to be a real problem, with all the people behind her. It was ironic, actually. This would have been worth a lot of Points back at Midnight City.

“What does it do?” Ravan asked, looking ahead of them into the dark.

Mira looked up from the Lexicon. “Shoot off a few rounds.”

Ravan unslung her rifle, raised it, and fired in an arc. Bullets fanned forward from the muzzle, but they didn’t make it very far.

The Menagerie winced as perfect spheres of bright white energy crackled to life and absorbed the slugs. Each was the size of a beach ball, filling the air with intense light. About a half dozen of them, at various distances and heights.

Seconds later the spheres vanished, fading out and plunging everything back to black, leaving no indication they were there at all. Max whined uneasily.

“Condenser Spheres,” Mira said, closing and locking her Lexicon. “Touch one and they suck you inside. What’s left gets compressed into something about the size of a marble.”

Ravan laughed. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.” Her men didn’t laugh, however. They looked at each other nervously. “How do we get through?”

“Tediously.” Mira zipped open the black bag with the red δ on her hip. “The Condensers are moving, just really slowly. Means the path through them’s always different. I’ll have to find them and mark a trail for your men to follow.”

“And how long will that take?”

“An hour, probably.”

Ravan’s eyes thinned in thought. “If these things are moving, how long will the path be safe?”

Mira was surprised. People didn’t immediately catch that wrinkle. Menagerie or not, Ravan was smarter than most.

“I don’t know,” Mira admitted. “All depends on the spheres. Long enough, hopefully. Never tried moving through a group this large.” Of course, the reality was, she’d never moved anyone through the Grindhouse, but she didn’t mention that.

Mira forced herself not to think about it. She had to do this. Zoey and Holt were depending on her. This was a first ring Anomaly, it would be no problem as long as she took it slow. The thoughts, however, felt hollow.

Mira pulled out the tools she’d need from the waist pack: a notepad and pencil; a mass of metal pegs strung together with red wire; a small hammer; and a leather pouch full of nuts and washers.

“Hold your men here,” Mira told Ravan. “Keep them on the highway.”

Mira started to move ahead, but Ravan grabbed her arm. “Make sure you know what you’re doing, little one. I lose any of my men because of a mistake you made, you won’t like the results.”

A stirring of emotion filled Mira. Not because of the implied threat, but because of what it reminded her of. Instinctively, her eyes looked at one of the white pillars of light in the distance, but then she pushed the thoughts away. She had to be strong.

“As I said,” Mira told her, “I’ve never moved a group this big. Far as I know, no one has. The Strange Lands isn’t the Barren, it has a million ways to kill you. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you make it to Polestar with half your men, but you should have known that. And if you kill me, the farther in we are, the less chance you have of getting out.” Mira ripped her arm free and stepped toward the Anomaly. Ravan didn’t say anything more.

Mira opened the leather pouch and grabbed a handful of nuts and washers, staring at the dense field of ruined cars that stretched into the dark.

So it was finally here. What she’d been dreading since leaving Midnight City—facing a Stable Anomaly on her own. Her hands shook, and she clenched them tightly before anyone behind her could see.

Damn it, it’s just the Grindhouse, she told herself. She’d been through it a hundred times. She was good, she was skilled. So… why didn’t she believe it?

Whatever the answer, it didn’t matter. She didn’t have a choice.