CHAPTER 26 - LIFE'S A BEACH

  A few Lost Ones emerged, but by the time they were out of the pools and trudging along the beach, Levan was on the risen plateau, watching from his stomach.

  The Lost Ones wandered, communicating in warbling warbles and croaks, before dropping into the eerily still pools at the center of their bismuth temples. Then the beach was silent again. As long as the night had been, there was still no hint of sunrise tinging the starless sky of the Lost One’s Plane, just the large blue moon and its eerie blue light it cast.

  Ideas were settling in his mind.

  “Codex,” he mentally whispered. “Can you run a clock for me? Keep track of time?”

  [ Codex > Capabilities > Tracking > Time ]

  “Great,” Levan thought to the mental presence. “Can you set it for twelve hours?”

  [ Yes. ]

  Then came thoughts of relativity, of time-dilation, and he rephrased.

  “Do you know when it’ll be sunrise, sunset, and a full day since the portals appeared at Garrow’s Claim?”

  [ I do. I will track these things. ]

  Three nights, two days. That’s what Rose had said.

  Night one was past, or, at least, he didn’t trust the portals to be open if he dove through where they should be.

  Two more chances, when each night’s attack begins for the people of Garrow’s Claim.

  There were other things to consider—like if he’d be behind “enemy lines” if he dove through successfully, and if he’d get an arrow to the brain by a Garrow’s Claim sharp-shot before they realized they were shooting a person and not a lizard-flatworm monster.

  But few things would be worse than being stranded here for the rest of his life.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The sum of all factors was this:

  He was here, on this plane, for at least the next roughly twenty-four hours. The sand was wet and cold. He could remain here. Shimmy himself into the blue sand like a toad, exposing only his eyes for a full twenty-four hours, then make a sprint for one of the portals.

  But the gaze of the large temple still felt like it was upon him, and rational or not, he could not sit still under the wake of the leviathan.

  Before fully leaving the beach, Levan whispered a few short words.

  “I pull you from the Aether.”

  A green light coalesced, burning bright in the blue night, and then faded.

  Stupid! The light! Stupid!

  Anything that had evolved on this world, anything with those giant black orbs like the Lost One soldiers had would have seen that green glow from miles away.

  The object he called from his [ Aetherial Stores ] appeared in his hand.

  [ Item Gained: x1 Wood (Aetherized) ]

  One, two, three pools along the beach began to stir as if all disturbed by a resonance or shaken by a footstep.

  I have to get out of here.

  He planted the single wooden plank into the soil and hastily covered it with sand.

  No sense in leaving a trail for anyone he just called his own attention to—but he had to have some way of recognizing the otherwise uniform beach if he was ever going to take the portal home.

  Claws searched the edges of the temple pools, but Levan didn’t stick around to see the Lost Ones crawl out of them.

  He moved quickly, low to the ground, making his way as along brittle black stone joined the sand of the plateau underfoot.

  “Okay,” he muttered, aloud. There was a cost to speaking out loud versus staying in his own thoughts, but for his own sanity, he needed some kind of familiarity.

  He tucked along a bend in the plateau and a risen edge of jutting black rock, and the beach curved away from view.

  “I’ve got access to my Aether Crafter thing. What do I have in there?”

  The answer came as information inherently known.

  AETHERIAL STORES

  > Materials

  > Stone, x16

  > Wood, x63

  > Scales (Lost One), x5

  > Keratin (Lost One), x4

  > Weapons & Armor

  > Short Sword, x1

  > Tools

  > Stone Axe, x1

  > Stone Pickaxe, x1

  > Stone Shovel, x1

  Tools, he breathed with relief. I have a bunch of tools.

  Smart Levan!

  Smart Levan!

  The sandy plateau around him was silent and still—and dark as it had been since he’d arrived.

  So that was the new challenge—figure out call them back from the Aether without waving the pale green aetherial flag that informed the whole beach he’d arrived for the party.

  Levan had a feeling he knew what to do, however.

  It wouldn’t be fun, but he was starting to get the hang of how all this Aetherial Crafter business went.

  He knelt on the plateau, parting mounds of sand until he could fully bury one of his hands.

  Then he put his wrist and forearm in front of his mouth, ready to bite down on the old leather so he wouldn’t scream.

  “I pull you from the Aether,” he said.

  His hand beneath the sand flashed green.

  He bit down to muffle the scream.

  [ Item Equipped: Stone Shovel | Common ]

  It was like dipping his hand into scalding-hot water. Worse—it was like finding the whole hand suddenly submerged in a pot of it.

  He made a small whimper sound, even through the leather of the armor, and, as soon as he could, he lifted his hand, wrapped around the haft of the shovel, and pulled it from the sand.

  That was the hardest one.

  The rest would be easier—

  Now that he had the shovel.