Chapter 23 Chapter Twenty Two

Braun Lamia found what was supposed to be a four-hour walk turned into a ten-hour nightmare.First, he took a detour to the abandoned city, and then made a difficult choice, leaving Silinas behind.She didn't want the poet to be alone there; she didn't want to force him to go on, nor did she want to waste time going back to the tombs.As it stands now, it took her an hour to walk around the ridge. Traversing the last dunes and rocky Gobi is tedious and exhausting.When we reached the hilly area, it was already evening, and the fortress was already in the shadows. When she walked down the six hundred and sixty-one stone steps of the fortress forty hours ago, her steps were extremely easy, and the climb was a test even for the muscles she had honed in Luthers.As she climbed, the air gradually became cooler and the sights became more and more spectacular, until at last, she had climbed four hundred meters above the hill, she was no longer sweating, and the valley of the Tomb of Time was once again in sight.From this angle, only the top of the Crystal Monolith can be seen, and that is also because there are lights flickering irregularly.She paused there for a moment, making sure the flash wasn't sending a message, but the light had no pattern, just the dangling fragments of crystal from the shattered monolith.

In front of you is the last hundred steps.Lamia tried the comlog again.The communication channel was still the usual jumble of signals and meaningless sounds, probably distorted by the tides of time.That thing can distort everything except the closest electromagnetic communication.A comm laser might work...seems to be relayed through the Consul's ancient comlog...but now that Kassad's gone, they don't have any comm lasers other than the Consul's machine.Lamia shrugged and began to climb the final steps. The Fortress of Time was built by Sad King Billy's robot - it is not a real fortress, but operated as a palace, an inn, and a summer resort for artists.Since the evacuation of the City of Poets, the place has been empty for more than a century, reserved only for the bravest adventurers.

After the Shrike's menace gradually weakened, tourists and pilgrims began to use the place, and eventually the Church of the Shrike reopened the place as a necessary stop for the annual Shrike pilgrimage.Rumor has it that some of its chambers are carved into the deepest mountains, or the tops of the most inaccessible towers, and those are the sites of mystical rituals, orchestrated sacrifices to the creature the Shrike worshipers call the Avatar. As the time tomb is about to open, the fierce and irregular time tide and the evacuation of the northern area, the time fortress fell into silence again.Now, when Braun Lamia returns here, the place is equally deserted.

When Lamia reached the bottom floor, the desert and the dead city were still bathed in sunlight, but the fortress was already dark. She rested for a while, took out the flashlight from the smallest backpack, and walked into the maze.The corridors are very dark.During their brief break here two days ago, Kassad scoured the surrounding area and declared that all power sources were useless—solar converters were falling apart, fusion batteries were in a mess, even the backup battery was dead. , scattered all over the place near the cellar.As Lamia climbed the six hundred and sixty steps, she glared at the elevator cabins frozen to their rusted vertical tracks, a sight she replayed dozens of times.

The larger hall, designed for banquets and gatherings, is still exactly the same as when they left... The leftovers left by the people who fled the banquet have turned into ashes, and there are traces of panic and fleeing everywhere.There were no bodies, but brown streaks on the walls and tapestries suggested that such an atrocity must have occurred only weeks ago. Lamia ignored the mess, ignored the omens—huge, black birds with disgusting human faces—taken off from the central dining room, ignored her own fatigue, climbed several floors, and finally arrived at the Camp storage room.The stairs became unspeakably narrow, and the pale light cast a dismal tint through the stained glass.There are monster-shaped spouts stuck on the panes to peek inside, and the glass was shattered or even knocked off, as if it was frozen on the way in.A gust of cold wind blew from the snow-covered area of ​​the Halter Mountain Range, and Lamia's sunburned flesh shivered again.

Backpacks and extra belongings were still where they had left them, in a small closet high above the central bedroom.Lamia checked to make sure that some of the boxes and crates in the room contained non-perishable food, then stepped out to the tiny balcony where Rainer Hoyt had played the balalaika, which was just Dozens of hours ago—but it has become the swan song of all ages. The shadow of the peak spread across several kilometers of sandy land, almost reaching the abandoned city.In the evening light, the Time Tomb Valley and the top of the messy wasteland still looked haggard, and the rocks and low stone formations cast chaotic shadows.Standing here, Lamia couldn't see where the tombs were, although the monolithic monument still occasionally burst into light.She tried the comlog again, and it still gave her only static and background noise, and she cursed and walked back to her room to pick up her supplies and pack them.

She brought four packs of essentials, wrapped in foam and molded fiber plastic.There was water in the fortress—the snowmelt water on the top of the mountain was diverted through the gutters, and that kind of technology could not fail—she filled all the bottles she carried with her, and checked to see if there were any extra bottles.Water is what they need most.She cursed Silenus for not coming with her; the old guy could carry at least six or seven bottles of water. When she was about to leave, she heard some noise.There's something in the hall, between her and the stairs.Lamia pulled up the last backpack, drew his father's automatic pistol from his belt, and walked slowly down the stairs.

There was nothing in there; the big black birds didn't come back either.The heavy tapestry was lifted by the wind, like rotting pennants flying above the messy food and tableware.On the far wall, leaning against a sculpture of the face of a gigantic Shrike, all free-drifting chrome and steel, slowly twirling in the breeze. Lamia walked slowly sideways to this place, turning around every few seconds so as not to turn her back to the same dark corner for too long.Suddenly, a scream made her freeze there. That's not a human scream.The wailing sound was ultrasonic and even higher frequency, and Lamia's teeth could be heard clashing, and she gripped the pistol tightly with her white fingers.The sound stopped abruptly again, as if the stylus was suddenly picked up from the record.

Lamia saw the place where the voice came from.Above the banquet table, above the statues, under the six huge stained-glass windows, where the fading light of the sky streamed through dull colors, there was a small door.The sound echoed all around, as if escaping from some dungeon or basement in the far depths. Braun Lamia was a little curious.Her whole life has been wrestling with superhuman curiosity, and she has finally chosen the abandoned but sometimes interesting career of private detective.On more than one occasion, her curiosity has landed her in awkward or troublesome situations, or both.More often than not, her curiosity was rewarded with lesser-known learning.

But not this time. Lamia is here to find much-needed food and water.There was no way anyone else had been here...the three older people couldn't have been here before her, even though she had made a detour to the Waste City...and nothing and no one else deserved her concern. Kassad?As soon as the idea came up, she suppressed it.That voice could not have come from the throat of the colonel in the military department. Braun Lamia stepped back slowly from the door, pistol ready, found the stairs to the main floor, walked down carefully, entered each room, and moved seventy kilograms of cargo And tiptoe as far as possible without a dozen bottles of water.She caught a glimpse of herself through a pane of tarnished glass on the ground floor—short, wiry body poised, arms twirling upraised, a mass of heavy backpacks dangling from its back and wide straps, bottles and lunchboxes Jingle.

Lamia didn't think it was fun at all.She walked out of the bottom floor, walked into the cool and thin air, and when she was about to go down the stairs again, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.She no longer needed a flashlight—the evening sky was suddenly covered with low clouds, casting a pink and amber glow over the planet, enough to illuminate even the fortress and the foothills below. She stepped down the steep stairs in two steps, and before she got halfway, her strong muscles began to ache.She didn't put away her gun and kept firing in case something fell from above or came out of a hole in the rock face.Almost at the bottom, she walked down the stairs step by step, and looked up at the tower and terrace half a kilometer above. Rocks were falling toward her.Not just the rocks, she realized, but the beaks were also torn from their ancient perches and were falling with the stones, their demonic faces illuminated by the light of dusk.Lamia ran, her backpack and bottle dangling, realizing that it was too late to reach a safe area before the debris hit the ground, so she ran headlong between the two leaning rocks. The backpack on her body prevented her from squeezing into the gap at all. She struggled and let go of the straps. She heard an unbelievably loud sound and realized that it was the sound of the first wave of rocks hitting behind her and jumping overhead. .Lamia pushed and pulled, with such force that it tore the leather and snapped the fiberplastic, and finally she squeezed under the rock, pulling the pack and water jug ​​toward her, while deciding not to return to the fort. Rocks the size of heads and fists smashed around her.The tattered head of a stone demon flicked, smashing a small stone less than three meters away.After a while, the air was filled with the smell of missiles, and some large rocks smashed into pieces on the rocks overhead. After this round of rocks collapsed, there was only the second round of falling small and medium rocks patting. As Lamia bent down to lift her backpack into safety, a comlog-sized rock bounced off the outer stone face, almost horizontally toward her hiding place - built between two rocks. It bounced twice in the small hole and hit her temple. Lamia woke up with a groan like an old man.She has a splitting headache.It was dark outside, and the pulsating light of the distant encounter lit the interior of the hideout through the cracks overhead.She ran her fingers over her temples and noticed that the blood had formed hard lumps along her cheeks and neck. She crawled out of the gap, struggled over the freshly fallen rocks that rolled around outside, and sat for a moment, her head bowed, fighting the urge to throw up. Her backpack was intact except for a broken water bottle.She found the pistol, in the little clearing where she had dropped it, free of cluttered rock fragments.The outcropping rock formation under her feet had already left scars and scratches in the violent erosion of this brief avalanche. Lamia checked the communication log.Less than an hour had passed.While she was unconscious, nothing came down to take her, or slit her throat.She took a last look at the walls and towers, which were now far overhead and out of sight.She dragged out the food and set off at a brisk walk down the treacherous stone path. Martin Silenus wasn't there when she detoured to the edge of the ruined city.Somehow, she hadn't expected him to be there, although she hoped he was tired of waiting and decided to walk the few kilometers back to the valley by himself. The idea of ​​putting down the backpack, putting the water bottle on the ground, and resting for a while gave her a strong temptation.With her little automatic pistol in hand, she walked into the streets of the abandoned city.The light of the explosion was enough to lead her forward. The poet did not answer her echoing cry, though a hundred birds that Lamia did not know fluttered into the air, their wings white in the darkness.She went down to the ground floor of the sad king's ancient palace, shouted up the stairs, and even fired a shot, but there was no sign of Silenas.She went into the courtyard under the tangle of creeping vines, calling his name, looking for any sign of his presence.On the way, she saw a fountain, and she remembered Poet Ding's story about the night Billy the Sad King disappeared, and he was taken away by the Shrike.But there was more than one fountain, and she didn't know if it was this one. Lamia walked past the central dining room under the sprawling dome, a room full of shadows.Suddenly there was a sound, and she turned, ready to shoot, but it was no more than a leaf or old piece of paper blown across the ceramic floor. Sighing, she left the city and walked with ease, though she was exhausted from days without rest.The request on the comlog didn't receive a response, and she felt the pull of the phantom memory of the time tide, so she wasn't surprised.If Martin had returned to the valley, his footprints would have been blown away by the night wind. The tombs are glowing again.Lamia had noticed this even before reaching the open saddle at the mouth of the valley.The light wasn't bright—it was nothing compared to the silent, frenzied light overhead—but every grave on the ground seemed to shed a pale light, as if releasing the accumulated energy of the long day. Lamia stood at the head of the valley, calling out to Sol and the others that she was back.If someone came to help in the last few hundred meters, she would not refuse.Lamia's back hurts, her braces dig into her flesh, and her shirt is soaked in blood. No one answered her cries. She slowly climbed the steps to the Sphinx, put food on the wide stone porch, fumbled for a flashlight, feeling exhausted.It was dark inside.Nightgowns and backpacks were strewn about in the room where they had spent the night.Lamia yelled, waited for the echo to die away, and swept the flashlight across the room again.business as usual.No, wait, something is wrong.She closed her eyes and thought about the room that morning. The Möbius cube is gone.That quirky energy-sealed box that Heit Masteen left on the wind transport was no longer in the corner.Lamia shrugged and walked out the door. The Shrike was waiting for her.It stands just outside the door.The monster was taller than she imagined, standing in front of her like an iron tower. Lamia walked out step by step, backing away slowly, suppressing the urge to scream at the monster.The pistol held aloft in his hand looked small and useless.Accidentally, the flashlight fell on the stony floor. The monster looked up at her.Somewhere behind the many-faced eye a red light pulsed, and the corners and blades of the body reflected light from above. "You bastard," Lamia said, calmly, "where are they? What did you do to Thor and the baby? Where are the others?" The monster cocked its head in the other direction.That face was completely alien, and Lamia couldn't see any expression from it.The body language expressed only threats.The steel fingers snapped open like a folding scalpel. Lamia fired four shots in its face, and the heavy 16mm bullets fired continuously, whining into the night sky. "I didn't come here looking for death, you son of a bitch metal monster," Lamia said, aiming and firing more than a dozen bullets in succession, each of which hit the vital point. Sparks flew.Shrike jerked his head straight, as if he was listening to some distant voice. It's gone. Lamia panted heavily, crouched down, and turned to look around.Nothing at all.The sky calmed down, and the valley floor sparkled with stars.The shadows were thick as ink and became distant.Even the wind is gone. Braun Lamia staggered to the pile of packs and sat on top of the largest one, trying to get his heart rate down to a normal rate.She was surprised that she didn't feel scared...not exactly...but her body was really pumped with adrenaline. She was still holding the pistol in her hand, there were more than a dozen bullets in the barrel, and the thruster was fully powered. She picked up a bottle of water and took a deep gulp. Suddenly the Shrike appeared beside her.It came here in an instant, without a sound. Lamia put down the bottle, twisted around, and picked up the pistol. She might as well move slowly from now on.Shrike stretched out his right hand, the finger blade as long as a sewing needle gleamed, a fingertip slid behind her ear, touched the skull, and pierced her head with no friction, no pain, only being Cold sensation when pierced.