Thursday February 21st, 2019

The exercise:

Write about: the breaking point.

3 comments:

Greg said...

I'm a little late in coming to this today as it was a reasonably busy morning, in part because I went to get my haircut this afternoon. My holidays now seem to only get taken in order to get other things done that can't be ignored. Pretty certain things could be worse though :)

The breaking point
The plaintive cry of a Byakhee pierced the night air and both Tomasz and Lord Derby looked instinctively upwards; Lord Derby crouching and Tomasz reaching for a weapon that hadn't been at his waist since he arrived in Carcosa. Across the side of the invisible square Samual and the Polish soldiers spread out, each seeking some degree of shelter and viewpoint.
"Grace," said Tomasz, his voice low. "I can't see her... Report!" He raised his voice into a shout.
Four replies of "Nothing," came back, and Tomasz shook his head. "Still, treat this as incoming," he said. He looked around the stacked bodies and swirling blackness of the quarry floor. "This is a stupid place to be." He raised his voice again, "Retreat!"
Six men hurried up the steps in the side of the quarry, each tense and silent, hearts beating hard in chests and sweat forming on backs, arms and faces. At the top they quickly spread out amongst the stone huts, two to each building. They pressed themselves against the walls in shadow, turned their faces away or hid them in the crooks of their elbows, and squinted their eyes. All ears listened as hard at they could, hearing ragged breathing, soft rustles as they shifted position, straining for the beat of leathery wings against the thin air. After a few minutes, as the tension began to wind down, the Byakhee's mournful cry sounded again, now louder and almost above them. Then the thump of displaced air reached them, and Grace descended on her Byakhee down to the quarry floor.
"Stupid," muttered Tomasz. Jakov, who was with him, nodded silent agreement.
"Are you here, Derby?" called Grace. Her voice was thin in the silence and darkness. She sounded petulant. "I know you were, I felt the gate open."

Greg said...

She went silent for thirty seconds, and then the floor of the quarry bloomed into light. It was a yellowish-green light that reminded Lord Derby of a greenhouse where the plants had grown wild and becomes diseased, something he'd encountered early on in his career as a King's Investigator. The memory of the bodies that the plants had fed on came back, unbidden, and he shivered. The light pulsed slowly, one pulse for every five heartbeats.
"Derby, Derby, Derby," called Grace. She was crooning his name like she was calling a cat. "Do you really think a Gate is what is takes to leave me behind? Or are you hiding, hoping I'll open a Gate for you? Which is it, Derby, Derby, Derby?"
Silence fell again, broken now and then by a sound like something heavy dragging over stone. "You were here, I can feel it," crooned Grace.
"She sounds insane, milord," whispered Samual, who had taken the opportunity to pair up with his master again. Lord Derby nodded and placed a finger against his lips, unwilling to have Grace discover them.
"A Gate, a definite Gate," said Grace. "And it was successful too. Ah well, let us re-open it."
Samual's eyes went wide, and Lord Derby laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"And so," said Grace, sounding thoughtful. The yellowish-green light blinked out, then back in again, and strobed for several seconds. Grace grunted like she'd been punched, and then the swirling darkness above the quarry floor was shot through with yellow streaks of light that whirled round and round like lightning pulled into a hurricane. "And so," she said, sounding contemplative. "And so we let the tension increase, until it reaches the breaking point... and then we just... let... go."
There was a sound like a clap of thunder and a bright, actinic light shot upwards into the sky. None of the men could see anything temporarily, and they rubbed their eyes and stared around them, wondering if their vision would return.
"Oh Derby!" sang Grace. "If you were there, you're toast. And if you're here still, then you're going to be toast!"

Marc said...

Greg - for the record, I am now picturing you with a freshly shorn mohawk. Just an fyi.

Grace is delightfully insane. Great work with the tension here, the fear of discovery, Grace's arrival, and the reopening of the gate. Quite curious to see how this plays out on Elizabeth's side of things. And here in Carcosa as well, obviously.