Chapter 40 – The Clocksmith and Unexpected Help

“It’s my fault,” Tel said as he hiked down the forest path behind Shara. “I should’ve been watching for the Twitcher. Instead, I let it destroy all the clocks. Or, no, I should’ve pulled something else out instead of the sensory spheres. A weapon.”

“You can’t actually believe that,” Shara said. “None of us stopped the Twitcher. I don’t know if any of us could. Besides, not even your pink gun thing would’ve made a difference with how many there were.”

“Born and Neela were…” Tel trailed off, the memory of them fighting flashing like a slideshow. While he… hid. Again.

“Frightening,” Shara finished the sentence. “But it also explains why just the two of them were in that forest when we were. Maybe they could’ve taken on the Twitcher, but I still wouldn’t put money on them. Anad struggled against one. Even with his Trance.

“Anyway, back on topic. Stop worrying about what’s already done, and use that big brain of yours to figure out why those monsters were there in the first place.”

“To destroy the clocks, weren’t they?” Tel asked, pushing down his anger at himself. Shara was right – he wouldn’t have been able to make a difference. Unless… no. No! Not even worth considering. But…

“It has to be more than that, Tel. Why did they want to destroy the clocks? What were they doing here instead of back in the forest? Figuring those things out is way more important than moping around about what happened last night,” Shara said.

“I’m not moping,” Tel mumbled.

“Totally moping,” Shara responded instantly.

“Maybe a bit.”

“Try a lot.”

“Fiiiiiiiine,” Tel said, rolling his head back to look at the leaves as they split the late-afternoon sun into beams of yellow and gold.

Reality in front of his eyes jerked and shifted, colors polarizing, and he was suddenly at the base of another large tree, wide leaves hanging lazily from thick branches in the sunlight… along with the noose. The image jerked, unstable, left and right, and Tel tried to blink, but his eyes didn’t obey. They wouldn’t look away, not for a second, from the noose that seemed to be extending towards him with every quickening breath. Again, the world jerked… but no, it wasn’t the image; it was the old stool his toes were standing on. They always put it on uneven ground to test his balance. One wrong move and he’d lose even that…

Ropes burned at his wrists as he struggled to free his arms behind his back, then around his neck as the noose tightened. The hands holding him up vanished so suddenly he almost lost his balance then and there, the rope closing around his throat and the stool wobbling, but he flexed his toes and arched his back, somehow miraculously staying upright.

There, standing perfectly still, he stared up at the sunlight streaming through the leaves, tears leaking down his cheeks, but not a sob leaving his lips. He’d learned the hard way how much trouble that would cause him, so instead he stood like a statue, staring. Hating. Wishing – for freedom. For dying. For revenge.

Like that, he fell into a trance-like state, muscles locked and breathing slowed to almost nothing. The beams of light between the leaves shifted, lengthening, as the sun moved, and Tel didn’t. Soon, even the sun was gone, and only pain remained, his body cramped and tired from holding the position so long. Longer than ever before.

Weren’t they coming back? Wasn’t somebody going to let him down?

The sun sinking below the horizon told him it was past dinner time, when the other children would be doing their chores. Did anybody even notice he wasn’t there? Didn’t anybody miss him?

A sob escaped his lips this time, threatening his balance as it wracked his tired body, but what did it matter? He was going to die there anyway.

It wasn’t fair! He didn’t deserve this. He wasn’t bad. Just… different. Quiet.

Why should he suffer like this?

…why shouldn’t they?

“Aaaaargh,” he screamed in frustration, and the stool tilted and flipped out from under his feet. All at once the rope around his neck held his full weight, the rough hemp scratching his throat at the same time it squeezed his airway closed. He kicked his legs, but it made no difference, and his eyes blinked at the tears streaming out of them, staring up at the hated rope and indifferent leaves above.

Darkness crept in from the sides, but not the darkness of the night for a child alone in the woods. Something more permanent, and it brought out his blackest thoughts.

‘I hate you’, Tel thought at the world. ‘I wish I could kill you. All of you.’

His body convulsed as it fought for air that wouldn’t come, and his kicking feet stilled, but he forced his eyes to stay open to glare at the rope that would kill him.

“You want somebody dead?” a Voice suddenly said, and silver flashed above his face. “I can help you with that.”

Then Tel was falling, the branches racing away until he hit the ground with a thump he couldn’t feel through his numb body.

“Hey, watch it,” Shara said, and the memory fell away like broken glass, and he was stumbling backwards. Had he bumped into her? She’d stopped? What… where were the trees? “You okay?” she asked, her voice softening.

“I… yeah… I… just got distracted. Thinking about the questions… you had,” Tel answered, pushing the memory back down deep while the Voice chuckled in the background. “Where are we?” he asked, talking louder to be heard over the… what was that?

Shara lifted her hand to point off to the right, and Tel blinked a few more times before following the gesture. His eyes scrolled across rolling hills free of trees, and maybe a small town in the distance atop one of those hills, but that wasn’t what she was pointing at. No, further to the right his eyes went, fields full of little more than tall grass.

What was she…?

And then he saw the churning, white-water rapids of a huge, fast-moving river. The water roared around rocks like jagged teeth, the rumbling he’d heard explained by nature’s sheer ferocity as it seemed stone battled water in a never-ending war.

“That is the actual Okenlock,” Shara said, a hint of a smile in her raised voice.

“It’s…” Tel started.

“Amazing… I know,” Shara said flatly.

“I was going to say it’s big, but yes, amazing is a good word for it too,” Tel said, already judging the distance to the river as well as its width. Easily two-hundred feet wide as its most narrow point, there along the line of teeth-like rocks, but wider and faster on both sides, it made an impressive natural boundary.

That would explain the noise.

“C’mon, we should get moving. The others are getting ahead, and I think that town… or village… or whatever it is, is where we’re going,” Shara said.

“Yeah, right,” Tel said, not quite able to take his eyes off the river. Shara’s description – amazing – really was better than just big. How fast was it moving? How much pressure was the water putting on the rocks per second? Maybe… maybe nobody would notice if he got out the sensor sphere and did a few quick measurements? They had to be far enough away from any civilization by now nobody would notice the small amount of chaos…

“I haven’t noticed what?” Tel asked without thinking, his mind on all the things he could learn from the river, and his hand in his pouch to grab the sphere.

Tel blinked. The Voice hadn’t insulted him.

“What’s above…?” he started, eyes lifting as he expected to be looking into the clear sky, but they barely went more than a few feet before he spotted what the Voice had to be talking about. A pink string, barely more than a strand of spider’s silk, floated lazily on an unseen wind down the length of the river and out of sight beyond the wood line.

Huh? What is that? And where is it coming from?

Tel’s head pivoted left as he followed the string – as it followed the river – up over the hill and through a wall of white mist.

“Is that the waterfall?” he mused out loud, but a more important question pushed its way to the forefront. “Why are you telling me this?”

The Voice in his head actually sighed.

“No, I obviously do not.”

“Well, that’s not a surprise,” Tel said. “And doesn’t really explain why it seems like you’re trying to help me… with something.”

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“So?”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t… I don’t want to kill!” Tel snapped. “I can’t… go back… to… to that.”

“Why would I?” Tel asked, but something pinched his left ear and he instinctively looked in that direction to see Shara at the top of a nearby hill waving at him.

“You coming, slowpoke?” she called, waving again.

“Be right there,” Tel called back with his own wave, then, more quietly, “What are you getting at?”

“She doesn’t need my protection, even you can see that,” Tel said. “And she wouldn’t like who I was. Besides, what does all this have to do with that pink string?”

“I still don’t see what you would get out of this,” Tel said, but the Voice didn’t respond. Long seconds turned into a minute, still with no reply, and he forced out a breath, pulling up his collar at the same time, and turned his attention to the pink string.

As much as he hated to admit it, that string wasn’t normal. And for it to be here? Too much of a coincidence. How was it connected?

…connected?

Wait, what was it connected to?

The portal. It had to be. What else could be around there that would create something so unusual? Was that what was drawing the monsters?

Tel put his hands in the straps of his pack to hold it on tight, then turned from the river and sprinted – as much as he could – towards Shara and the others.

“Bout time,” Shara said as he caught up… and then kept running by. “Hey, where are you going in such a hurry?”

“Neela! Neela,” Tel called as he slowed to a jog, already breathing heavily. He… really needed to do more cardio.

“Whoa there, Tel, did you see a void snake in the tall grass?” Born asked with his customary laugh. “They’re scary to look at, I’ll give them that, but not really as bad as they sound. You know where the name comes from, right?

“Nothing in the grass,” Tel said, then looked down at his feet. “Er… void snake?”

“Named because their venom puts you on the toilet for a day,” Shara said catching up. “Longer than Born is tall, and as thick as my leg. Black as night. But, if that’s not why you were running…”

Tel checked the grass once more for any lines of black, but then shook his head. More important things to talk about.

“Is that normal,” he asked, pointing towards the pink string above the river.

“Is what normal?” Neela asked, and she followed his gesture, as did Shara and Born. “The river?”

“Not the river, the pink string of chaos above it,” Tel said, pointing again.

“Pink string…?” Neela asked, squinting, then looked at Born, who shook his head.

“I don’t see anything, Tel,” Shara said.

Tel stared at Shara then turned his attention back to the river. Sure, the string was small, and maybe easy to miss if the Voice hadn’t mentioned it – but it was definitely there.

“None of you see it?” Tel asked, and they all shook their heads. “Damnit.”

Okay, only he could see it? Why? No, that wasn’t the important question now. If he assumed he wasn’t imagining things, the issue was still where it connected.

“Is the portal somewhere in the waterfall? Maybe behind it or something?” Tel asked, looking at the string as it went through the white mist and… yes… from this angle, dropped down to follow the flow of water.

Neela gave Born another look, then back to Tel and shook her head. “No… but it is out directly in front of the waterfall.”

“Out in front of?” Shara asked. “On one of the Lost Isles?”

Neela shook her head again. “It’s in the middle of the islands, about a mile below the surface of the water.”

Wow. No, be amazed by that later.

“Can you take me to it? Right now?” Tel asked. “Look, I know you can’t see the pink string I’m talking about, but I’m worried it might be connecting the portal to those monsters we ran into. If I’m right, and we can cut it, maybe we can stop whatever they’re doing.”

“You sure you’re not imagining things? It’s been a rough few days,” Neela said.

“Look, if he says he sees it, he sees it,” Shara answered before Tel could. “And if it says it’s important, it probably is. Can you take us to it?”

“Your mother is most likely in the town,” Neela said, gesturing in that direction.

“She can wait,” Shara said. “This has to come first. Right Tel?”

Tel looked at Shara, at his friend who was putting off the one thing she’d been chasing for years, just to support him. He couldn’t help but smile, despite the danger the pink string posed. “It does,” he said with a nod, then turned to Neela. “It really does,” he said again, his voice serious.

“They did close the portal in the forest by themselves. Well, mostly by themselves,” Born said, then amended. “And a lot of people survived that attack last night because of what they did. Maybe it’s time to just trust them, Neela.”

Neela crossed her arms, but then let out a breath and nodded. “You’re right,” she told the big man, then focused on Tel. “How serious is this? Should we be running?”

“I don’t know how serious it is, honestly,” Tel said. “And I really hate running. But, yes, I think we should be running.”

The waterfall had to be at least a mile away, plus a mile down, and however far out it was. After the last few days, could he even hope to run that? He’d have to find a way… somehow.

Neela seemed to have the same thought, pulling out her stopwatch and pressing the plunger immediately. “I can’t take you all, sorry. Born, show Shara the way?”

“Of course,” Born said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“Right behind you?” Shara asked.

“Right behind us?” Tel asked at the same time Neela’s hand settled on his shoulder.

Then he exploded.

Every sense – sight, taste, hearing, smell, and touch – burst apart in a thousand different directions, then simultaneously shot forward. The flowing grass below/beside/around him passed by in a flash, one cloud overhead seen from a dozen different angles hung motionless, and the late summer breeze became part of him before he reformed again half the distance to the waterfall.

His stomach twisted in protest of the sensory overload, threatening to express its displeasure in a projectile fashion, but he exploded again before it could. The multitude of different versions of him, each with all its own senses, zipped over the grass and along the river, his bodies dancing between hanging droplets of moisture, and then reformed next to a stand of several large rocks.

Tel staggered on his feet, Neela’s hand on his shoulder the only thing holding him up as he noticed a space just large enough for a person to pass between the stones. He was even almost ready as he exploded again, this time whipping between the stones and down the ancient stairwell that wound around and around and around and around…

Suddenly there was a hallway spinning in front of him. No, the hallway wasn’t spinning, it was just Tel’s head as…

He exploded and shot down the kaleidoscope hallway, stopping once to reform before quickly exploding a second time and then stopping a heartbeat later.

“Brlaaaaah,” Tel’s feeble breakfast erupted from his mouth with the same momentum he’d shot down the hall as he fell to his hands and knees, then toppled to the floor, still convulsing as his stomach emptied itself.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Neela said. “It’s rough when we stutter like that a few times, but I’ve learned it’s best not to stop after the first one with someone new. Though, I have to say, that’s pretty impressive,” she added, pointing at the seven-foot line of vomit in front of Tel.

“I think…” Tel started, but had to stop as his stomach made one last shuddering ejection. “I think,” he continued again after he caught his breath, “that I’ll run next time.”

“Second time is never as bad,” Neela said. “Besides, you said this was urgent. Come on,” she finished, offering her hand to help him up.

Tel rubbed his hand on his shirt to clean off some of the vomit – oh, that’s going to stain – then took Neela’s hand and let her help him to his feet. Even with the support, he wobbled a bit, and put his other hand against the wall. Cool stone greeted his fingers, and he looked over to find extensive carvings lining the walls under the flameless torchlight.

“What…?” he started, then shook his head. “Sorry. Lead the way.”

“Just through this door here,” Neela said, leading him up to a heavy stone door, very reminiscent of the one from the forest compound, only this one had a single vertical eye carved into it, and the pink string passed straight through the iris. Neela did something with her other hand beside the door while Tel stared at the carving, and then she pushed the door in and to the side, on the same kind of sliders Tel had used before. “Here we are.”

Tel gingerly stepped into the room, avoiding the string and still not trusting that his legs were completely back – or that Neela wasn’t going to explode him again – but all other thoughts dropped away as he looked at what awaited them.

Like in the forest compound, a ring of Chronosteel spikes, ten this time, stood embedded in the stone floor. But, unlike the forest, there was no portal. At least, not until Tel followed the taller spikes up to the ceiling that wasn’t a ceiling. Instead, the spikes passed into and through what looked like thick, perfectly clear glass, and then further up into the ocean above. There, sitting in the still water, barely visible from the light glowing up from the room, sat a portal the size of a grapefruit, a sinister eye inside watching Tel right back.

“Why isn’t water going into the portal?” he asked quietly, staring in wonder at aquarium-like ceiling. Except… except something was different from an aquarium. What was…?

No fish. It could just be that none were visible within the small column of light – and for good reason, the portal was creepy – but something felt wrong about that thought. If he looked, if he could, he probably wouldn’t see any fish for hundreds of feet around the portal, if not more.

“We’ve got some theories on that,” Neela said, snapping him out of his brief contemplation. “But that’s not why we’re here. What do we need to do?”

“Right, sorry,” Tel said, focusing on the portal and the pink string… that wasn’t there.

Huh?

Tel spun around and looked down the hall. There was the pink string, and he followed it with his eyes into the room with them. But, instead of flowing up through the glass ceiling to connect with the portal, it instead turned off to the right and into a grandfather clock sitting in an alcove.

“That’s strange,” Tel said, heading towards the clock and reaching out with his finger to touch the string as he followed it. As soon as he made contact with the string, pain lanced into his eyes, as if something was nailed to his face, and voices echoed around him while his surroundings rocked back and forth.

“You know better than to let me down. You’re sure it’s this way?” a woman’s voice whispered in his ear, and Tel felt his head nodding vigorously, a deep-seated fear of displeasing the woman clutching his heart.

“Is. Is,” a raspy voice – his voice – said, and his hand lifted to point.

“Good, don’t disappoint…”

“Tel! Tel! Are you okay?” Neela’s voice shattered the strange vision, chasing away the agonizing pain on his face as she shook him by the shirt.

“I… will… be… when… you… stop… shaking me,” he said, though Neela held on and looked him in the eyes.

“You just screamed, then started talking in some weird voice and pointing. What’s going on?” she asked.

Tel blinked a few times to banish the memory of the pain, purposely taking a step away from the pink string, then rushed over to the clock.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Neela asked as Tel followed the line of the string into the clock, then quickly opened the front panel to inspect the mechanisms behind.

“Where did you get this clock?” Tel asked, checking the various gears as the clock ticked methodically. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. What could be… wait, those two gears are out of position.

“Same place we get most of our clocks, probably. Bought or salvaged from somebody who didn’t want it to fall into Tailcoat hands,” Neela answered. “But why is that an issue when we should be looking into that pink string you were talking about?”

“Because it connects here, not the portal,” Tel said, carefully following the line of out of place gears. It wasn’t many, only five gears that weren’t normally in a clock of this model, but they hid a small gear-toothed device Tel had never seen behind them. And that was where the pink string connected. “Here, right here. This is where the string goes,” Tel said, pointing, though from the look on Neela’s face, the inner workings of clocks weren’t her deepest interest.

Why hadn’t another Clocksmith noticed…?

Tel looked up at the face of the clock and found his answer in the minor damage underneath the three hands. There would’ve been damage up there necessary to fix, but nothing serious in the guts of the clock.

And the vision he saw?

What had Neela said? Bought to keep out of the hands of Tailcoats. Damnit, they’d done just the opposite! The device was somehow connected to that person Tel had seen. And… the rocking back and forth… like a wagon.

“The Tailcoats are coming. They know where we are,” he said as he thrust his hand into the clock and did something he’d never done before – he ripped it apart.