CITY OF BRIDGES

26

A Hive of activity

As his small form navigated the rough ground, Styx contemplated the new information gathered from Brendon. The mind-scan revealed far more than mere details of the terrain and l’ith. There were fleeting images of a community of deformed humans living in caves. Other images of the interior of a vast alien building with many strangely garbed people. No other creatures were evident; no rrell, seleth or glins’ool. There was a scene of a flying vessel plummeting through the air before it crashed into a swamp.

It would appear the rumours of the origins of Zander, Dianah and Brendon were true. They came from a world called Earth, and their technology is very advanced compared to anywhere on Yarnik. There was much more; the early development of Delta, a nursery of some description with many juveniles – most of which seemed to be cross-breeds – or an adaptation of the major races on Shak’aran. This was where Leonie was ‘born’. He considered the most disturbing knowledge Brendon had uncovered.

Yarnik was orbiting a binary sun. There were minor and major seasons, each one hundreds of years in duration. Now at the tail end of a minor spring, Yarnik would move into a major summer as its orbit took it closer to the larger sun. Even though this would be several decades away, if the knowledge was correct, the temperatures would soar to levels beyond survivability of most of the races. Only the wyverns and l’ithnamagri, would survive. Further deliberation would need to wait as he trundled to the edge of the broken lands.

The entrance to the l’ith hive was not far off. He proceeded cautiously, using Brendon’s mind-map until he arrived at the worst of the ruin landscape. Deep fractures in the ground revealed sections of huge crystalline formations.

Styx risked sending the gentlest of probes into the depths. The angle of decent gradually increased to form a vertical shaft with ledges and jutting crystal at random distances. He also had vague impressions of several openings along the shaft.

With no other movement detected in the area, he trundled over the edge and began his descent. As the gradient steepened, he unfolded and began to climb, digging his claws into the rock face. All was good at first, but as the shaft became vertical the cliff face changed from rock to crystal. Styx’s claws found little purchase. He slipped and fell into the darkness. He instinctively rolled into a ball and waited for the crash.

The impact onto a shelf far below splintered the structure, sending fragments of crystal and rock flying in all directions. The boom echoed up and down the shaft and into the various openings branching from it. Styx detected a change in the hive-mind, and soon after, large masses moving towards his location.

So much for stealth. If the cacophony of thoughts and outrage were any indication, half the hive must be looking for him.

As secrecy was no longer an issue, he probed the area to get an idea of where he could go. Below and opposite was another ledge, this time with an opening. The ledge was larger and a strange object caught his attention. He leapt off to investigate. His ‘communal memory’ told him it was a portal – one of the many doorways between worlds – though which one he could not say. It was lying flat, and did not appear to be operating. There was no sign of the other portals, but were more than likely lying at the bottom of the shaft. History indicated these portals required massive amounts of power to operate. As the portals were only in Dromas, the city must have been directly above the hive.

With these thoughts running through his mind, he began to roll along the tunnel. With an innate ability to determine his bearings, Styx explored the tunnels of the hive for hours aided by the bare minimum of sensory input. While the tunnels diverged in seemingly random directions, his instincts and need to find the queen drove him to look for the lower levels. Pausing at a fork leading down, he heard a clatter of pebbles above him. Before he knew it, l’ith emerged from a tunnel overhead.

Each one hesitated as it came across the rollo in the middle of the path. Mandibles slightly apart, the lead l’ith traced Styx’s skin with the tips of its antennae. Styx had the impression the l’ith were ‘smelling’ him and kept perfectly still so as not to pose a threat. After a few moments and without any indication of aggression they stepped over and around him and continued along the path Styx was about to navigate.

Following at a discreet distance, he extended his awareness enough to discern the massive creatures. The path grew steeper. Styx dug his claws in, but managed to keep up. The tunnel was almost vertical when it widened abruptly. He moved forward slowly until he could no longer detect the walls. The group he had been following moved off in a northerly direction, crawling along the ceiling and using a column of crystal to descend to the floor.

Feeling confident by the lack of aggression shown by the l’ith he recently encountered, Styx gently extended his senses until he could detect something. As suspected, the walls of the tunnel he was in curved out in all directions, becoming an opening in the ceiling of a large cavern with huge columns of crystal, reminding him of the caverns in White Cliffs. Scattered across the floor were many unusual boulders and crystal shards from past rock-falls were everywhere. The boulders were regularly spaced.

Bracing himself for the drop to the floor, he released his grip. The floor was uneven, causing him to roll into one of the boulders. Instead of stopping him, it broke and covered him with a thick fluid.

Almost instantly his senses overloaded with a powerful shockwave of emotion. The boulder was not what it seemed. Whatever he had done had sent the queen into a frenzy. The cavern starting rumbling with the sound of many feet and within moments l’ith were pouring in from every tunnel from every direction.

Styx rolled over quickly to the queen, attempting to communicate with her, but his message was bashed aside by wave after wave of her vitriolic emanations.

L’ith surrounded him, a protective barrier between their queen. Styx felt immense pressure as a pair of mandibles grabbed him. His stubby arms lashed out with the talons that could dig into rock, barely scratching the large pincers, which surprised him. He found himself picked up and hurled across the cavern by another l’ith with tremendous force.

After falling to the floor, he immediately jumped to the side as more l’ith attacked. Quite by accident, he landed on the thorax of one of the many creatures. His weight and impact cracked the shell and Styx found himself within the body of the giant creature. With immense sadness and guilt, he felt it writhe and stagger in its death throes.

For a few moments the cavern was quiet, but with another barrage of thought from the queen, the gathering of l’ith shredded their comrade to get to him. After his near-death from being frozen back in White Cliffs, Styx’s confidence had lessened. Tough as hroltahgs were, they were not unbeatable. He realised it was inevitable they would get the better of him. There were far too many!

Once again, giant mandibles snatched him as he emerged from the dead l’ith, tossing him around like a toy. One l’ith threw him hard against the cavern wall in an attempt to break him.

Styx twisted, digging his claws in to the rock wall while he hung there to survey the cavern in its entirety. The floor was a seething mass of l’ith warriors, and the strength of their combined emanations dulled his own senses. Desperate as his situation was, he was still reluctant to kill any of them if he could help it. Some of creatures were now scuttling up the wall to reach him. He had to move.

Carefully choosing his path, he leapt to the nearest stalagmite, sailing over the heads and snapping pincers of the creatures below. Gripping the column, he gathered himself and leapt to another one, slowly getting closer to the source of their aggression. The constant telepathic blast was affecting him in a way he had never encountered before. He was beginning to tire and lose concentration. Unless the queen stopped broadcasting with such intensity, he would soon make mistakes and once they got hold of him, it would mean his death.

At the last column, he climbed almost to the roof before once again jumping as far as he could. This time his impact cracked the stalagmite column. l’ith scuttled away as it collapsed, leaving a short but clear avenue across the cavern floor to the queen. Styx reacted immediately. l’ith moved in to block his path and grab him.

Styx fended them away and ducked underneath the swarming creatures, dodging through the forest of legs as he sped onwards. Now that he was closer, he realised the queen was immobile within a ‘cradle’. So lacking in concentration was he that it just dawned on him all those ‘boulders’ littering the floor were in fact eggs. And he had crushed one!

L’ith were rushing up to him. He had only moments left. No hroltagh had died of an unnatural cause for several thousand years. Styx decided the new sensation he felt was desperation. With the near-death experience in White Cliffs, it was not something he relished to revisit.

Great queen, I implore you. Cease this violence. Everything that has occurred these last decades has been a mistake. An accident. We will endeavour to appease you and your kind, but you must call off your warriors so we can negotiate.

The queen, though limited for movement, lashed at him with her claws. She was much bigger than other l’ith, with quicker reflexes. Styx found himself once again in the clutches of powerful mandibles, struggling to escape her grasp. He felt pain. And fear. Styx ceased his struggling, looking for any semblance of sanity within the queen’s mind. He found nothing, the madness giving her strength.

The floor around and below him was a seething mass of l’ith warriors. Their single-minded aggression towards him instigated by the insanity of their queen. There was no way any army could hope to repulse them; there were too many and too powerful. The only hope for the survival of Athglenn, and the only way to ensure the fulfilment of the prophecy, was to stop the queen at any cost.

Narrowing his mind to a pinpoint and aided by his close proximity, Styx rammed his thoughts into the l’ith-mother’s mind. STOP! The moment her grip weakened, he thrashed out of her grasp and freed himself. With little time to spare, he leapt on top of her, driving his talons into her head, he ripped the shell apart and dove inside. Curling into a ball, he used the spikes to lethal effect, churning her brain into mush.

The queen careened around the floor, wildly shaking her head, crushing fellow l’ith and eggs in her path until her body collapsed in a heap of tangled legs.

Styx emerged from the skull of the fallen queen to an utter silence. The cavern was eerily devoid of any emanations or sounds, though he sensed the masses of l’ith still gathered within the cavern. He began looking for an avenue of retreat, not that he expected to make it. But the l’ith were immobilised; every one of them. Whether stunned by the power of the queen’s mind in her death, or some form of l’ith mourning ritual, was unclear. Not even their antennae twitched. They were statues.

Taking advantage of the respite, his departure would be the wisest course. In his weakened state Styx had to navigate his way out of the hive, and it was a long, arduous climb. Careful not to attract attention, he stealthily picked his way through the forest of legs to the nearest exit before gaining speed. In his mind, he tried to find solace in the fact that, while he had inadvertently killed one of the l’ith warriors, their own queen had killed many of her own kind. He also recalled a conversation he had with Feiron; that sometimes, to protect the weaker from violence, one must confront that violence.

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