Chapter XXXVII
XXXVII
“DIAGO.” MY HEART RACES. IT’S HIM. NO DOUBT ABOUT it. I make what I hope is a calming gesture, palm downward. “Diago, it’s me.”
The alupi responds by baring its teeth and growling more.
Even so, it feels more cautionary than threatening.
I take a shaky breath and study the creature, one hand still held out to Aequa to ensure she doesn’t decide to take action.
He’s almost the same size he was at seven or eight months old.
Not the towering monster I’d assumed he’d grow up to be. Just gods-damned big.
I’m a Sextus now, and Aequa’s a Quintus. We’d win a fight. I just don’t want to have to.
“Vis?” Aequa whispers it from behind. I can hear how desperately she’s battling the urge to do something.
I let a long breath whistle through my teeth.
Never taking my eyes from the alupi, who’s continuing to growl warningly.
He’s intelligent, of that I have no doubt.
He’s saved me before. Remembered me before.
And if he wanted to attack us, it would have been the easiest thing in the world to spring directly from cover. “Do you trust me?”
“Depends.”
“I think we need to drop our imbuing.”
Silence, then, “I don’t trust you.”
I let out a soft, nervous laugh. “This is the one that saved me at the Iudicium. The one I saved as a pup. I don’t think he’s going to hurt us.”
“You know that’s not how wild animals work, right? You can’t just help them when they’re young and then they’re your friend forever.”
“Alupi are more intelligent than most animals.” I’ve read up on them since the Iudicium, and while not much is known about the creatures, there’s a consensus on that point.
Another long pause and then, “You first. And if he eats you, I’m running.” Her voice is steadier this time, though. She’s gone through the same logic as me. Realised that if the massive wolf hasn’t attacked yet, there’s a chance he’s not intending to at all.
“Hm.” I’ve kept my eyes locked to Diago’s. Heart pounding, I drop my self-imbuing.
He stands there for a few more seconds, and then pads forward. His teeth slowly disappearing. I keep my hand outstretched, but otherwise don’t move.
He reaches me, and nuzzles his head beneath my palm.
“Hello, Diago.” I gently stroke his massive head.
“Rotting gods.” It’s Aequa again, relief palpable. My sense of her Will—unavoidably noticeable, this powerful and this close—vanishes. “You gave it a name?”
Diago glances at her and gives a low rumble.
“Diago it is,” Aequa mutters.
I spend a minute mostly motionless, just reassuring the animal through touch, then risk a glance behind me. “You want to try—”
“No.”
Hard to blame her. Diago seems to be enjoying the physical contact, but he hasn’t sat down.
“Diago. We have to keep moving.” I smile at him. It’s a genuine expression. As much as I tried not to think about him, I’d been worried he might have run afoul of the teams sweeping the island. “I’m glad you’re alright.”
I lift my hand and, nodding to Aequa, start walking. She follows.
Diago begins padding after us.
“Well this is interesting,” says Aequa uncertainly, throwing a glance at me but not risking one over her shoulder.
“You can ask him to leave, if you like.”
She glares at me.
It is somewhat unsettling, having the massive creature following us like this, but after my time in the Iudicium with him, I’m not overly worried. He’s not stalking us, not trying to hide and not showing any signs of aggression. No mistaking him for tame. Just … clearly with us.
We make our way along the narrow, twisting path, Diago a noiseless, looming presence behind. I focus occasionally, check for any signs of Will. There’s nothing, though. If there’s anyone ahead, they’re not more than a Septimus.
“Why ‘Diago’?” Aequa asks the question in almost a whisper. There’s a short, low growl from the alupi in response, and she flinches.
“It’s what I called him, when I saved him as a pup. I named him after a friend back in Aquiria.” I don’t look at her. Carefully infuse my tone with heaviness and hesitation. “One who … didn’t make it out.”
“Oh.”
I nod, and neither of us say anything more on the matter as I inwardly curse myself for not thinking more quickly when Diago appeared.
Stupid not to think of some other moniker before I said it in front of Aequa.
Stupid. But it’s done now, and Diago was hardly a unique name in the north.
It makes me uncomfortable, but I’ve come so far now that even I have a hard time imagining anyone will put it together with my true past.
I hold up my hand, slow as the way ahead opens into the rubble-strewn clearing with the domed building in its centre. We duck off to the side, into the undergrowth. Diago follows.
“This is it?” Aequa squints at the building that sits amidst the collapsed stone. It’s late afternoon, shadows deep and at a sharp enough angle that making out detail is difficult. Trees and bushes rustle around us. “Doesn’t look like he’s left a guard.”
Before I can answer, Diago is pushing past us—Aequa letting out a barely muffled yelp as he brushes against her arm—and trotting into the clearing.
We watch from our hidden position as the massive wolf navigates the rubble with ease, head swinging from side to side. He moves with unperturbed confidence, leaping easily over boulders and fallen walls before continuing his circuit without breaking stride.
“Is he … scouting for us?” whispers Aequa eventually, eyes wide as they stay locked on the creature until he disappears behind the domed building.
“Surely not. Because that would be weird.”
She coughs a quiet laugh. “You’re right. Your pet alupi is probably just stretching his legs.”
I don’t answer, mainly because I don’t know how to.
Her observation certainly feels accurate as Diago reappears, pausing occasionally to test the air but otherwise looking for all the world as though he’s checking the area.
And when he completes his circuit he settles about twenty feet away, well into the clearing. Facing us patiently.
“I think he’s waiting for us,” observes Aequa, sounding as though she doesn’t know whether to be amused or terrified.
“Rotting gods.” I mutter the words reluctantly and stand, brushing leaves from my tunic. Whether or not he was scouting, anyone nearby would have spotted the alupi and made some sort of commotion by now. We’re alone here.
Aequa follows me out into the clearing. She grins at Diago as we draw near, looking like she’s going to give him a pat on the head. “Good boy.”
Diago bares his teeth at her. Her smile vanishes and confident stride falters to a stop as she snatches her hand back.
Diago snorts, then turns and pads toward the domed building. We both stand there and watch the alupi for a second.
“I like him,” I say eventually.
Aequa gives me a light backhanded slap on my right shoulder, and we head for the main building.
We reach the shadow of the colonnade without incident, stopping in front of the steel door. It’s not especially strong, but when I concentrate, there’s definitely a pulse emanating from it.
“The Principalis surely has a Will alarm on this.” Aequa’s studying the closed door dubiously. Going through the same mental process as I did the first time I saw it, no doubt.
I press my palm against the door. Feel the disconcerting thrum of someone else’s Will vibrating there, and take control of it.
Diago snarls.
Aequa and I both flinch and jerk around, eyes wide at the abrupt, violent sound. Diago’s hackles are up. Teeth bared. Watching me intently.
“Vis?” Aequa murmurs from the side of her mouth, frozen.
“I just took control of the Will in the door. Let’s get inside. Slowly.” I gently push the door open, just enough for her to slip in ahead of me, and then follow.
The boom of my hurried shutting of the door cuts off Diago’s growls. I stare for a moment at the steel, frowning. Relinquish control of the Will in it. “He really doesn’t like people imbuing.”
“Lucky he’s out there, then.” Aequa’s eyes turn black as she examines the interior. I’ve told her about this place.
“Lucky,” I agree grimly, self-imbuing as well. This isn’t somewhere to take chances.
We head toward the green-lit hole in the floor.
“IN AN … ATTEMPT TO … MAKE OURSELVES GOD, WE …made god?”
Aequa translates quietly as we finally reach the archway, lit emerald by the pulsing scrawl on the walls of the underground passageway that we’ve been travelling for the last ten minutes. Uncertain. Surprisingly close, given that Vetusian has never been a strength of hers.
“It’s a ‘they.’ ‘In trying to become God, they created Him.’” She gives me a displeased look. I throw up my hands. “I think.”
“What does it mean?”
“Nothing good.”
“Creepy.”
“Just wait a few seconds.” I steel myself, and continue beneath it.
The hall is no different to the last time I was here. It stretches back at least a few hundred feet, cavernous roof almost lost to darkness. Illuminated by the green emanating from the hundreds of cavities cut into the wall.
Each one containing a single, naked corpse speared through with an obsidian blade.
The white, pulsing representations of Solivagus have disappeared. And there’s no sound, no whispering.
I still force myself through a wall of dread as I step inside.
“This is … unpleasant.” Aequa knows exactly what happened to me last time; I’ve explained this area in very specific detail. Her voice is more a mixture of horror and awe than fear, though, as she leaves my side and wanders closer to the nearest silhouettes.
“That’s one way to put it.” I watch her anxiously. “You know those are dead bodies, right?”
“You mentioned that.”
“And that they woke up?”
“And then you ran away. I remember.” She keeps a cautious distance. “But they didn’t attack you like the ones on the other side of the island, did they? And they must be here to do more than just scare you.”