The Will of the Many (Hierarchy, #1)

by James Islington

read the words again. And again. The passage to Luceum. I’m too tired and confused and afraid to second-guess myself. I need to get out of this place, and it seems clear what I’m supposed to do. I place my hands in the two circles, palms against cool stone. The pyramid symbols pulse to life beneath my touch. There’s a flash. Encompassing. White and blinding. Then searing, unimaginable pain in my left shoulder.

“Traveller. Traveller, stay with us.” The man with the red beard is cradling my head. He’s talking in rough Vetusian. “The other from your world will be coming.”

“Welcome to Obiteum, Vis. Did Veridius send you?”

“My name is Caeror. I don’t know how much you know, but we have about two minutes to save you back in Res. So you need to trust me, and come out of there now.”

Caeror grits his teeth. Breathlessly fretful. “You’ve been… copied, I suppose. The same way the world was thousands of years ago in the war against the Concurrence. It’s how you got here.” He grunts as he sees my look. “Came as a surprise to me, too. But it’s not important right now. You’re still strongly connected back to Res and Luceum, but that’s going to fade fast. I can explain more later, but only if you’re not dead.”