Chapter 29:

The Nexus

*

The world ex­ploded.

Or at least, close enough, so far as Haw­thorne was concerned. She plunged into choppy waters, no longer standing on the deck she’d just been on, and hurriedly cast a spell to put a bubble of air around her head.

Swearing under her breath, she looked around frantically. Where was Keolah? Clumsily, she moved her arms and legs to try to propel her­self through the water, but for all that she’d spending so much time aboard a ship, she’d never been par­tic­ularly good at swimming. Around her, the gnomish Water and Wind Mages swam around to rescue their crew mates who didn’t have one of those Talents, but she could see no sign of Keolah. Hadn’t she been standing near Silver in the aft of the ship?

She wasn’t a Water Mage and couldn’t swim like a fish, but that didn’t mean she was help­less. Drawing mana from Zarnith, she sent a stream of Wind Magic behind her to propel her through the water. There was Silver! Blown further away from the ship than most of the others. Nar­cella was already rushing to help him. With an­other jet of air, Haw­thorne shot through the water again, looking for Keolah.

Next to an outcropping of rocks, she spotted some­thing wavy and green that she might have mis­taken for sea grass if it weren’t next to fluttering brown cloth. It was Keolah’s hair. She was un­con­scious, and her clothes tangled up in the rocks. Haw­thorne swam close and put an air bubble around Keolah’s head. Fuck, she wasn’t breathing.

“Keolah!” Haw­thorne cried out, grabbing onto the woman and shaking her.

Water leaked out of Keolah’s mouth as her head tilted to the side. Could Haw­thorne get her breathing again? Not wasting any time thinking about it, Haw­thorne held Keolah’s head and shoved air into her mouth with Wind Magic. It felt stupid, but she thought it was worth a try. Maybe it would work. Maybe she wasn’t really dead yet. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be dead. Not after not every­thing. Not after every­thing they’d been through.

Keolah coughed and sputtered, and spat up water. She was alive! Still not lucid, but at least she was starting to breathe on her own again. Haw­thorne wrapped an arm around her and propelled the two of them toward the surface. She didn’t care where or when in space and time they’d wound up, so long as they were alive.

*

Keolah slowly came to. She didn’t recog­nize the place she was in, but it wasn’t one of the cabins aboard the Care­ful. Where was she? And more im­por­tantly, when was she? Upon sitting up, a wave of dizziness rushed through her head, and a strong hand rested it­self on her shoulder and helped her lay down again with­out falling out of the bed.

“Easy there,” Haw­thorne said. “You bumped your head and swallowed some water before I could get to you.”

“Haw­thorne?” Keolah croaked.

“Hi,” Haw­thorne said with a coy grin.

“What happened?” Keolah asked. “Is every­one okay?”

“Everyone’s fine,” Haw­thorne said. “Well, more or less. Two gnomes lost their hearing when the engines ex­ploded, but the Water and Wind Mages were able to keep any­one from drowning and Kithere healed any cuts and burns.”

“Wait a minute,” Keolah said. “The engines ex­ploded? What happened to the ship?”

“The ship currently exists in tiny splinters scattered across time,” Haw­thorne said. “Most of the metal components are now at the bottom of the Bay of Scalyr.”

“The ship was destroyed?” Keolah said. “By Valissa, Sarom’s not going to be happy.”

“Are you kidding?” Haw­thorne said with a laugh. “He’s thrilled. And he already has plans for a new ship named Care­ful­you­dont­get­struck­by­lightnin­gwhile­traveling­through­time.”

Keolah groaned. “Gnomes are weird.”

“I know, right?” Haw­thorne said.

“What about the books?” Keolah asked.

“Had to fish them out from the sea bed, but they’re fine,” Haw­thorne said. “Pretty sure they’re enchanted against being blown up, and the water definitely didn’t hurt them any.”

“Okay, now here’s the real ques­tion,” Keolah said. “Did we succeed?”

“So far as we can tell, yes,” Haw­thorne said. “If this isn’t the time­line we started in, it’s one similar enough that Sedder couldn’t find any sig­nificant differences between this and the city he’s lived in for years.”

“What about insig­nificant differences?” Keolah asked sus­piciously. “If we go to Torn Elkandu right now, will we find the buildings we grew there and the books we left in the lib­rary?”

“We won’t know until we get there, will we?” Haw­thorne asked.

“That’s not very reassuring,” Keolah said. “And what if it’s not? We don’t even have a ship now!”

“We’ll manage,” Haw­thorne said brightly.

“How can you be so cheer­ful about this all?” Keolah asked. “We could have all died! Or been trapped in an­other time, in an­other time­line, in some­place horrible with no way to escape.”

Haw­thorne cocked her head. “Maybe. But I have faith in us to find a way.”

“You’re a fine one to talk about faith, for some­one who isn’t overly fond of the gods,” Keolah said.

“Pfah, faith has nothing to do with gods,” Haw­thorne said. “Faith is other people.”

“Well, I guess I’m flattered by your confidence in me, then,” Keolah said. “But hasn’t every­thing we’ve been through been nerve-wracking?”

“Sure, a bit, some­times,” Haw­thorne said. “But it’s been a won­derful ad­ven­ture, and one I’ve gotten to spend at your side. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Keolah smiled weakly. “Haw­thorne.”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor?” Keolah prompted.

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Lean down here,” Keolah said.

A little confused, Haw­thorne leaned over the bed. “This is going to be some­thing em­bar­rassing, isn’t it. Well, okay, there’s no­body in here but your sis­ter, so em­bar­rass away.”

“I’m asleep,” Kithere mum­bled into her pillow.

Keolah chuckled. “No, it’s just that I can’t sit up with­out falling over and I want to kiss you.” She reached up to put an arm around Haw­thorne and pulled her to her lips.

Com­pletely asleep,” Kithere muttered, turning away from them.

*

The swirling pur­ple sky of the pocket-world opened around them, and beneath it, the buildings of Torn Elkandu awaited. Frost’s Moun­tain loomed at one edge of town, overshadowing the School of Thought. It was only upon seeing that that Keolah finally relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief.

“We’re really back,” Keolah said.

“Well, to be fair,” Haw­thorne mused, “we’re either in the time­line we started from, or in an extremely similar one previously occupied by versions of our­selves who did more or less the same things.”

Keolah stared at her in­cred­ulously. “Whatever it is, I’m going to con­sider it good enough, and not overthink it.”

“That’s prob­ably wise,” Silver muttered.

“I do not under­stand what this place is,” Sardill murmured, gazing at the sky. “It feels strange. Unreal. A place between places. A place that is not a place.”

“Well, if you don’t know what it is, I cer­tainly don’t,” Keolah said.

“So it was these Tin’dari who built this place?” Haw­thorne asked as they walked toward the arcane com­plex.. “The ones who spoke Tinean?”

“No, it was the Vel’dari who built this place,” Keolah said.

“Then wouldn’t the lan­guage be… Velean, or some­thing?” Haw­thorne asked.

Keolah blinked. “I don’t know what the name of their lan­guage might be, but yeah. The tree elves said that their lan­guage was prob­ably similar enough to that of the void elves to be mutually comprehensible, though.”

Haw­thorne paused at the edge of the great circle. “So, is it?”

Keolah stared down at the runes running at her feet. Close, but not close enough. It was just diff­erent enough that it might even make this task impossible. One line, one letter out of place, and the meaning was com­pletely diff­erent. Where Tinean in some ways seemed organic with curves and circles, ‘Velean’ or what­ever one might call it was more likely to sport corners and triangles. She groaned softly, her shoulders slumping.

“I don’t believe this,” Keolah said with a dejected sigh. “every­thing we did, and it’s all for nothing. We can’t use this.”

“Well, we still have the time travel ritual,” Haw­thorne said. “We could always start over, set that up again, and go back to when these Vel’dari lived and just ask them.”

“No,” Keolah said, shaking her head and dis­missing that possibility outright. “Not only would that be extremely dan­gerous, but I don’t trust the Vel’dari one bit. Not after what the Tin’dari told me about them. And they have no reason to want to help us, either.”

“When has some­thing being dan­gerous ever stopped us before?” Haw­thorne asked.

Keolah slowly set off down one of the roads leading toward the Nexus, the spokes of the wheel, eyes fixed upon the runes on the ground as they went, tracing the patterns and the way they interlocked. Regard­less of her initial panic, they were clearly the same sort of runes. They were based on three sides rather than four like the elvish and common writing systems, and prob­ably linked together in the same way.

The Nexus loomed before her, and she had no greater under­standing of its inner workings than she had when she started. Her eyes scanned the runes on the eight obelisks, hope­lessly looking over un­familiar symbols. She’d just barely started getting a handle on Tinean, and now there was this. She ran a finger down the engraved stone, over the strange runes so like and yet so unlike the ones she’d just been studying, and paused. Her finger rested upon a glyph that looked like three triangles, one within an­other in an­other. Just like a target with angles in­stead of curves.

“This is a key­stone rune,” Keolah breathed, the correlation dawning on her.

“Hmm,” Delven mused, leaning close. “And you said it was circles in Tinean? Yeah, this reminds me of human writing, in a way. No, I don’t mean dir­ectly. I mean like, you know how the common tongue has uppercase and lowercase letters, and the lowercase ones are often more rounded versions of the uppercase ones, like the M and N for instance?”

Keolah nodded thought­fully. “Maybe this is doable after all…”

They brought out their notes and got to work. Tinean and Velean runes did have some sig­nificant, but reg­ular, differences. Once they realized the pattern to them, it was a lot easier than Keolah had feared it would be to begin to decipher them. The outer part of the com­plex, the spokes and the wheel, seemed like support and stab­ilization mech­anisms for the Nexus. Oddly enough, if Keolah was reading them right, they’d already begun to ab­sorb the mana and spells that her group had put into Torn Elkandu to provide power. Building that random moun­tain hadn’t just been a waste of time or sim­ply prac­tice for Yennik and Kithere, because the rune com­plex was assimilating the mana that had been put into it. Some­thing more would be required, though. The runes seemed to indicate some­thing about foun­tains that were supposed to be at each hub where the spokes met the wheel. She’d won­dered what had been up with those empty circular dep­ressions. They’d actually been supposed to be water basins.

“Calto,” Keolah called him over. “I’ve got a task for you. You see this circle of runes here?”

“Yeah?” Calto said.

“We need to put a foun­tain here, as well as in the counter­part spaces in the other inter­sections,” Keolah said. “Get some of the gnomes to help with them. If I’m reading this right, the water needs to be infused with diff­erent types of mana.”

“On it,” Calto said.

Keolah headed back to the Nexus, where Delven and Amanda were examining the obelisks.

“Hmm,” Delven said. “This one seems to be mainly dedicated to Speech Magic. Unless I’m missing my guess, it prob­ably is meant to blanket the whole area in a trans­lator spell.”

Amanda nodded in agree­ment. “It’s unkeyed and dormant at the moment, though. Once we bring it back online, I’ll show you how to key it to get a uni­versal trans­lator enchant­ment effect.”

“That would be very con­venient,” Keolah said. “Have you learned any­thing else?”

“Each of the obelisks is covered in very diff­erent enchant­ments,” Amanda said. “I haven’t analyzed them too closely yet, but I’m going to guess that some of them are dedicated to locating a target, opening a connection, and ac­­tiv­ating a teleport.”

“Let’s see what we can find out, then,” Keolah said.

Haw­thorne wandered up as Keolah was closely examining an obelisk that seemed to be the primary foundation enchant­ment that every­thing else was built on, providing a solid stab­ilization to all the energies flowing through the place.

“So, hey,” Haw­thorne said. “Zarnith and me just finished up dumping some mana into those foun­tains. Making any progress here?”

Keolah nodded. “Yeah, I think this obelisk here is the one that powers up the whole thing.”

“So what does it do?” Haw­thorned asked.

“Nothing in and of it­self, so far as I can tell,” Keolah said. “Just sets up the power for the rest of it. I just want to make sure that it’s—”

“You said the symbol of three triangles in each other is the ac­­tiv­ation rune, right?” Haw­thorne said, pointing at the one on this par­tic­ular obelisk.

“Yes, but—”

Haw­thorne channeled a burst of mana into the key­stone rune before Keolah could say an­other word or stop her. Lines of mana rushed across the pillar. All around them, runes flared to life, glowing brightly with cyan light. Several of the people around the pocket-world looked over to them in alarm.

“Haw­thorne!” Keolah cried out. “You don’t know what that could do!”

“Sure I do,” Haw­thorne said. “You just told me your­self. It’s an ‘on’ switch.”

The ac­­tiv­ation had not been very stable, and as soon as Haw­thorne let go of her magical connection with the key­stone rune, the runes around the Nexus began to flicker. The ones on the wheel went out first, then the spokes, and finally the Nexus it­self went dark again.

“Well, that was dis­appointing,” Haw­thorne said.

“I don’t think it even got fully ac­­tiv­ated to begin with,” Amanda said. “It destab­ilized and collapsed al­most immediately. I don’t know if there were any ill effects from it, though.”

“There were not,” Sardill said, app­roaching them.

“How can you tell?” Haw­thorne asked. “No, wait, don’t tell me. Catalysm.”

Sardill gave a longsuffering sigh. “Yes, Haw­thorne. ‘Catalysm’, as you so eloquently call it. I would have preferred to refer to my par­tic­ular magical discipline as ‘Mysticism’ or ‘Enchant­ment’, but if you insist upon coining such a term, then far be it from me to attempt to dissuade you.”

“Pfft, it’s not really very mystical,” Haw­thorne said. “I mean, tech­nically it is, but then tech­nically all magic is mystical. And all types of magic can be used to make enchant­ments.”

“As you say,” Sardill said. “Regard­less, I do not believe that you managed to fully ac­­tiv­ate the Nexus with such a brief, thin stream of mana. You may have initiated a start­up sequence, but did not follow through on it. Though it is prob­ably just as well until we learn more about it. Fortunately, nothing ex­ploded this time.”

“The Nexus is built out of some mat­er­ial I’ve never seen before,” Amanda said. “It’s not truly rock or metal. It seems to be capable of handling vast quantities of mana with­out a prob­lem.”

They con­tinued to spend many more days working out the runes on the Nexus, al­though Haw­thorne con­tinued to insist upon dumping diff­erent quantities of mana into the key­stone rune on the ac­­tiv­ation pillar for diff­erent lengths of time just to see what happened. Keolah even­tually gave up on try­ing to dis­courage her, seeing as it didn’t seem to be hurting any­thing, al­though it was a little distrac­ting. When she used Zarnith to initiate the ac­­tiv­ation process, the runes around Torn Elkandu glowed magenta, but when she did it her­self, they glowed cyan. However, she found that when she used her own mana to ac­­tiv­ate it and Zarnith’s to main­tain it, the runes remained glowing with her own magical sig­nature rather than his.

“Haw­thorne,” Amanda said. “So long as you’re playing around with that, take a look at the obelisk next to it. It seems to be the next in the sequence to energize and stab­ilize the Nexus.”

“Isn’t it already energized?” Haw­thorne asked, going over to her and taking a look at the obelisk at the end of the road that led to the gardens.

“Not truly, no,” Sardill said. “It appears to be suff­ic­iently ac­tive to begin receiving mana, but has not yet drawn any mana from the wells we set up.”

“The first pillar seems to be some­thing like ‘life’,” Amanda said. “That one you’ve been playing with. This one seems to be ‘energy’.”

“Hmm,” Haw­thorne said. She channeled mana into the key­stone rune of the second obelisk. In the dis­tance, the eight foun­tains let out geysers of diff­erent colors into the air, and mana began flowing along the spokes toward the Nexus. “Neat. Have we ­iden­tified any of the others yet?” Haw­thorne asked. “And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’.”

Amanda nodded. “Each of them seems to have a common rune that I believe would trans­late as ‘per­fect”.”

“I’d say it’s more like ‘right’ or ‘correct’,” Delven said.

“No, it’s prob­ably ‘com­plete’ or ‘whole’,” Keolah argued.

“It prob­ably doesn’t matter too closely as long as we’ve got the right idea,” Haw­thorne said.

“Either way, the one you’ve been working with is labeled ‘per­fect life’,” Amanda said. “The next one seems to be some­thing like ‘per­fect effort’.” She went over to the next one, between the roads to the gardens and the school. “And this one is ‘per­fect awareness’.”

“Maybe more like ‘mind­fulness’,” Keolah put in.

“I think it’s prob­ably involved in selecting a des­tination,” Amanda said, going over to the one between the school and the moun­tain. “Next, we have ‘per­fect con­centration’.”

“I would have said ‘meditation’,” Keolah said.

“Yes, well, you’re a druid sort of Earth Mage,” Amanda said.

Keolah snorted softly. “If that was supposed to be an in­sult, it kind of failed at it.”

Amanda ig­nored her. “Anyway, this one prob­ably involves focusing and ­cal­ib­rating the Nexus.” The went to the one between the moun­tain and the lake. “Here, we have ‘per­fect view’, or per­haps vision. It al­most cer­tainly involves scrying the des­tination.”

“I think it does more than that, and I would have called it ‘under­standing’,” Keolah argued.

“Fine, I’ll give you that you’re the in­born Seeker here and all,” Amanda conceded. “Next, we have ‘per­fect intention’.”

“Should I sug­gest that I would have said ‘aspiration’ here?” Keolah asked. “Or will you just make an­other comment on my ‘druidy’ des­crip­tions?”

“Then, we have ‘per­fect speech’,” Amanda went on. “We’ve already deter­mined that to be a trans­lator spell.”

“I don’t think it’s just a trans­lator,” Keolah said. “But let’s go with that.”

“Finally,” Amanda said, turning to the obelisk between the Junk­yard and the Fire Caves. “‘per­fect ac­tion’. I believe this is the obelisk that is used to ac­­tiv­ate the Nexus in order to teleport those within it once a des­tination has been set and con­firmed.”

“While I’m sure the obelisks do func­tion to con­trol the Nexus,” Keolah said, “I’m not sure their purpose is en­tirely that mundane. There’s a lot we don’t under­stand about them still, nor about the spokes of the wheel. We have miles of lines of runes that we haven’t even begun to scratch the surface on.”

“I’ll grant you that,” Amanda said. “There are prob­ably many, many func­tions that we have yet to even guess at the existence of. I’m cer­tain that there are some sort of safe­guards built into it some­where, as well. Still, I think we’ve learned enough that we may be able to success­fully ac­­tiv­ate the Nexus now.”

“This is risky and premature,” Kithere said. “There’s no need for us all to al­most die again when we’re already here and can spend as much time as we have to learning about this place. And even if we can ac­­tiv­ate the Nexus, what’s to say that we’ll be able to get back again?”

“I don’t think it needs to be one or the other,” Keolah said. “There are runes we should be able to use to tell us infor­mation about the other Nexi in the network. We can use those before we commit to actually teleporting any­one any­where.”

“Okay, now that definitely sounds like a sensible course of ac­tion,” Kithere said.

“What, did you think we were just going to ac­­tiv­ate the Nexus with­out knowing what most of even does and teleport blindly with­out knowing where we’re going?”

“Not you, no,” Kithere said. “But Haw­thorne—”

While their atten­tion had been turned toward analyzing the runes, Haw­thorne had been playing with the Nexus. With a burst of mana into the key­stone rune of the ac­­tiv­ation pillar, a cloud of swirling mist filled the center of the Nexus, and when it cleared, Haw­thorne was gone.

“Well, shit,” Keolah muttered.