Dwelling in Darkness

INSPIRATIONS

PRONUNCIATION NOTE

Sifaka is pronounced Shee-fawk.

It’s a Malagasy (Madagascan) word—

and those often aren’t pronounced the way they’re spelt!

Also, Tsingy is pronounced Sing-ee.

Are we the dead, that we have been buried,

Silenced, forgotten, alone?

Are we but spirits, that we have been rendered

Unseen, unheard, unknown?

May there be a day when our corpses are unburied,

Loved, and brought back home.

PRELUDE: IN THE DARK

Year 1803

Tsingy closed his eyes, swallowing to submerge the panic welling up inside. He forced himself to take deep breaths of the stale underground air. What do I do? I don’t remember being trained for this. Think, Tsingy. What would a captured warrior do?

His fear pushed away any and all clever solutions that may have come, leaving him with nothing but dread.

Tsingy opened his eyes. There in front of him stood Kassador.

Kassador reminded Tsingy of a gorilla in both size and build, though like him, Kassador was a lemur. Tsingy felt puny next to the giant, tucked away in a corner of the monster’s overarching shadow.

Humming filled the air, drawing Tsingy’s eyes to the black boxes—the machines—situated all around Kassador. A series of wires led from each box, over the dirt floor, to dozens of needle points embedded in Kassador’s skin.

Tsingy shivered involuntarily. How can he stand having so many needles in him? I would be in pain. Which led to a follow-up thought: What if they intend to torture me? How long can I hold up under pressure?

Tsingy couldn’t imagine Kassador having ever been a friend to Indri, yet not all too long ago, Tsingy’s inventor teammate had trusted Kassador.

Indri trusted you, too, a voice inside said.

Tsingy silenced it. Hand firmly set in his coat pocket, he grasped the plans Indri had given him.

They won’t expect me to have the plans, Tsingy had encouraged the older lemur. I can find a place to hide them before the enemy searches me. I promise.

It’s good to have a bargaining tool, Tsingy tried telling himself. I needed to make Indri give me the plans. I had no choice.

There’s a hard way we can do this. Kassador’s voice sounded weary. Not the forceful bellow Tsingy had expected. Still, Tsingy’s heart thudded sharply. Or there’s the simple way. These blueprints Indri has drawn up for the robot that will hypnotize us into surrendering…

Not quite how Indri would have put it. The Peacemaker’s—the robot’s—song would uplift its allies while adjusting the mindset of the enemy, calming their violent desires and bringing them into a compliant mood.

I guess that’s pretty close to hypnotizing. Tsingy fought the instinct to tighten his grip on the plans in his pocket.

Indri would never give me the blueprints, Kassador said. You, I believe, are more reasonable. He eyed Tsingy’s coat pocket. Hence why you’ve already done the grunt work of getting the plans for me. Now the question stands: will you hand them to me with or without a fight? If you fight, my underlings will kill you. Both of you.

Five creatures materialized from a dark corner. Four were servants of Kassador, wispy and pale monsters… Angatra. The fifth, whose limp body they carried between them: Indri.

Indri’s chest rose as he breathed, though his eyes were closed. Tsingy’s heart caught in his throat at the sight of the big, grandfatherly lemur.

If you don’t fight, you may both live, Kassador said. A simple choice, don’t you agree?

Tsingy didn’t even hesitate. He pulled the plans from his pocket and stretched out his arm towards Kassador.

Sorry for getting us captured, Indri, Tsingy thought. And sorry for tricking you. But this will all be over soon. I promise.

Kassador took the blueprints in one enormous hand, and with the other he signalled his underlings. One of them drew a dagger and held it over Indri’s heart.

B–but, Tsingy stuttered, disbelieving, you… you promised!

A malignant grin darkened Kassador’s face. As I understand it, you too made a promise you didn’t keep.

The Angatra brought the dagger down into Indri’s chest.

Tsingy blacked out.

* * *

Half-conscious, Tsingy could barely make out the dark lemur dragging him through the dirt. Still, he recognized this enemy. R–Ramanga?

To Tsingy, Ramanga appeared as a blurry haze. Ramanga’s laughter echoed in his ears.

Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, old friend! Ramanga teased. Since you’re awake—well, sort of—now would be an excellent time to let you know how your next few days will go. My master Kassador has decided to make good use of you. You’ll be building for us this Peacemaker that Indri invented. Only, it won’t be a Peacemaker. No, it’ll need to be adjusted for our style of warfare. So we’ll need a new name. How does ‘the Screaming One’ sound to you?

Tsingy felt himself being lifted into a boat. Ramanga got in and paddled through what Tsingy assumed to be an underground river.

Slowly, Tsingy’s vision cleared. They rounded a corner, and within the water a spider web of thick blue strands lay suspended at the bottom of the river.

Wrong way, Ramanga grumbled. Why does there have to be so many tunnels down here?

Tsingy’s eyes widened. He’d seen webs like this one before, with unmistakable thick blue strands. It was a portal. But something appeared off. Shakily, he pointed towards it. Why… isn’t the portal… glowing?

That old thing? Ramanga harrumphed. It doesn’t work. Locked, I suppose. A project for another time.

Tsingy stared at the web, enraptured. So that means… there may be a way… to leave this world… to leave the Sealed Realm… or…

Or to bring in aid. The realization lifted Tsingy’s spirit. We could get help.

My condolences, old friend, Ramanga said.

A paddle slammed into Tsingy’s head with brute force. His ears rung as his vision clouded over.

If you can see that far, Ramanga continued, you’re a little too awake for my tastes.

Again, everything faded to black.

1:WEAVING A WEB

One Month Later

Sifaka had seen this dream many times, every night since the blackness had fallen. Yet something told her this time would be different.

Perhaps it was the spider itself, and the fact that it was speaking to her.

This should do, the massive orb-weaver stated.

The voice was male. That threw Sifaka off. She knew male spiders were usually quite tiny compared to females, yet this one was a giant many times larger than she. Stranger still, she felt no fear towards him. He emanated peace, a fact that seemed quite contradictory to his… well, spidery-ness.

He continued speaking. Like most spiders, I can only vaguely see my surroundings. Technically, I can’t hear either—though my ability to read vibrations in the air and ground gives me just as good a grasp on the auditory world as any hearing creature, if not better.

Sifaka nodded to show that she was listening, though she wondered why he was explaining this to her.

I don’t consider my weak eyesight to be a handicap, he said. In exchange, Creator has given me receptors on my feet, which pick up chemical signatures. Well, to me, it doesn’t seem as complicated as that sounds. Essentially, everything I grasp in my claws, everything I touch, has a flavour to it. He ran a spidery foot over one of the silk strands beneath him. Right now, I can feel the softness and taste the sweetness of these strands. I’ve always savoured the feel and flavour of my webs, as well as the richer-tasting silk of my dear friend Elabra.

Sifaka nodded again.

Do you know what this is? the spider asked.

Hmm?

He moved off the web he had created. The strands were unusually thick, so wide that the web would be useless for deceiving and catching insects. It was black with patches of glowing purple, blue, red, and yellow.

Sifaka knew what it was. She had come to this world through a similar web. It’s a portal to another world, of course.

Though a portal unlike any other, the spider said.

Yes. Every portal web I’ve seen is all-glowing and light blue. Why does this one have so much black in it?

Do you want to find out? he asked. Go ahead!

She looked at the web apprehensively. You mean… touch it?

How else will you find out where it leads?

Sifaka held an instant trust towards this spider. Surely he meant her no harm. She moved closer. Reaching out her hand, she placed it on the giant web.

* * *

Sifaka awoke. There was no more spider, no more web. The engulfing peace he had emanated was gone with him. Reality flooded back to her mind.

Sighing, she got up and cuddled her blanket close. Closing her eyes, she felt the heaviness of the night seep its way into her room, into her very heart.

I wish I could go wherever that web would have taken me, she thought.

Nearly any world must be better off than this one: the Sealed Realm.

Sifaka pushed her blanket aside and shifted to a crouch. I don’t care what time it is. I’m going for a wander.

She stretched out her monkey-like lemur arms. Her captivating eyes—round, golden, and set in a black face—flared wide. Her thin white tail curled around her well-muscled back legs. White fur covered most of her body, though patches of auburn brown marked her belly and parts of her limbs.

Her body had been designed for leaping through trees, so her legs were much longer than her arms. There was no way she could crawl about on all fours. Nor did she walk upright in the manner of some other animals.

Sifaka hopped sideways in a galloping motion. Some had told her it looked awkward, watching her walk that way.

Her friend Song, however, had said more than once, You’re always dancing to a melody—a melody you create by your smile, by your joy.

Her lips turned up at the memory. Yes, Song would be the one to call it dancing. Hmm, I wonder if he’s started his guard duty for the night? Maybe I can catch him before he leaves the village.

Sifaka hopped to the door and let herself out of her room.

She entered the community hut’s main chamber, greeted by a dirt floor, a single wooden table, a dilapidated shelf, and little else in the way of furniture. A few doorways linked this wide entry to various smaller rooms, and one door led outside.

Tataro, Sifaka called.

A rickety old bird, a robot made of metal plates, flew through an open door and landed in front of her.

Hello, the bird said in a garbled male voice. And a good night to you.

She giggled. Oh, Tataro, have you been out in the rain?

Never, he warbled back. I’ve been told it’s not good for my hinges.

Well, it looks like you’re gathering rust anyway. Should I clean it off for you?

I will call them tattoos and allow them to stay. I always get nervous when you try to scrape away at my metal plates.

Indri programmed you to say that, didn’t he? Sifaka said.

A pang of pain hit her. Strange how you can miss someone so bad when you didn’t even know them that long. Indri had been a grandfatherly character, an inventor who charmed everyone who met him.

Sifaka had travelled from her own world, Strepsir, to the Sealed Realm because of an invention fair Indri and other tinkerers had put together. Sifaka had been so excited when she came to this world, then called Kéméné, eager to study what the inventors had made. She herself hadn’t possessed a mind