Fourth Under Sol (Digitesque Book 5) by Guerric Haché

Author:Guerric Haché [Haché, Guerric & Haché, Guerric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Post-Apocalyptic, science fantasy, science fiction
Published: 2018-09-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

The hunter’s face, angular and pale features framed with that golden blond that had become so familiar, was halfway between stunned and slack. The wound had been small, but the smallest wound in the right place could still kill.

Sure enough, piece by piece, the gods were taking everything from her. They seemed determined to destroy everything she touched. If they took Hail from her, too -

She felt the rage well before she truly understood what she was thinking. If they took Hail from her, too, she would kill them. She would hunt down every last god and destroy them or die trying; whatever it took. For what they were doing to her, to everyone; for everything they were failing to prevent. For gods, the two were one and the same.

She hauled Hail forward, her eyes finding Kelena, and she cut off the swordswoman’s disapproving look before it could form speech. “Crimson! Where!”

Kelena kept her mouth shut and pointed to the ground, tracing a finger along a red stone path leading through the tall buildings of the city’s crown to the south-west. Isavel ran, bounding lightly across the path, and was soon darting out of the city’s walls and onto the rugged, uneven face of Olympus.

She hoped it wasn’t far. She hoped it wasn’t hours away. Or days. Or weeks.

As she cleared the billowing column of dust and smoke rising from the city, red-flagged barges soared overhead towards the other end of the tier. As her eyes adjusted to unfiltered daylight, she suddenly saw it - a path of irregular red flagstone snaking its way to suspiciously polished dark metal jutting out of a distant, steep hillside. Good enough. Holding Hail tighter, she pressed onward, one long martian stride after another.

“Crimson!”

The temple wasn’t metal, she realized as she approached - it was dark polished stone. There must be watchers about to keep it in such a state.

“Crimson! You owe me! You gods fucking owe me this! ”

Ancient markings hung above the huge metal door that loomed before her, unmoving and uncaring. She shouted as she ran towards it.

“My name is Isavel Valdéz and if you don’t -”

The door cracked open. She almost stumbled, but kept her balance. The two metal plates creaked apart slowly, opening a sliver just fast enough for her to run straight into the ancient temple.

Lights flickered on along a long hallway, lined on either side with pale stones polished and covered in engravings, and a reddish-pink stone floor that looked like one long, smooth slab. In the distance, unnaturally bright and smooth light glowed in a wider room.

“Isavel.” A matronly old voice crackled at her from all around as she kept running, speaking her native language. “This is not a medical facility. There is only so much I can do.”

“Then do as much -”

“Suspend her between the flat watchers. You’ll see them.”

She did, when she reached the central chamber. Two hovering disks of metal; one landed in front of Isavel, while the other floated directly above its counterpart some space above her head.

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