The Isle Of Thamber

By Timothy S Currey

Alone in the dark. Nightmarish creatures behind every corner. The line between reality and dreams begins to blur …

The City-Tree Arbalith seems perfect in many ways. They have mastered the use of Thamber gems, which grow their crops, shape their homes, and heal their sickness. Below this perfect city lurks creatures strange and menacing—Dryads, and Mycads.

Thurso Diamante has risked everything to mount an expedition to the tunnels below. If he can just study the strange creatures below his city he is sure he can make a great discovery, a handsome fortune. But nothing goes to plan, and he is left to fend for himself.

He's only a man of science—he was never meant to be thrust into this much peril, unarmed and inexperienced.

His wish is granted at an enormous cost. He discovers something that ought to be impossible—something he can hardly believe himself. Could it be that there is more to these monstrous creatures than anyone had imagined?

Even if he makes it back alive … will anyone believe him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Timothy S Currey
• Release date: Mar 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201013363

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Timothy S Currey

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Before you read ...

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Thank you for reading! Before you go ...

Preface

On the 3rd of Summer, in the full view of my fiancée, amid a host of creatures known as Dryads, I received a mortal wound that will soon claim my life. I preface my entry with this not to stir up the reader’s sentiment or sell my science with a lurid ‘thrill’. My hope is only that you will excuse the brevity with which I must write this final entry; I am losing blood.

Copied Post-Mortem from the Journal of Thurso Diamante

Chapter 1

The Journal of Thurso Diamante

First Entry. City-Tree Arbalith, Thurso’s Home, Evening of the 28th of Spring.

While packing for my upcoming expedition, I overheard a passerby say that a Dryad was causing a commotion in the Lower City. My Middle City home is quite near the Lower City (nearer than I would like), but still I hastened from my room and made my way down. There was no question of my missing an opportunity to see a specimen up close before my expedition. Common wisdom is that the creatures are quite grotesque; I thought I would much rather see one up close under bright Thamber lamps than to see one looming out of the dark in the Root Tunnels.

But first, a small note. My good friend and benefactor, Lord Shorey (whom I am sure is a familiar name even to the Naturalists of the continent) has advised me that I ought to provide context for those who have never visited the great City-Tree of Arbalith. This is, apparently, necessary so that my publication will reach a wider audience, and thus greatly increase my earnings. Somewhat more dubiously, he has also implored me to write less in a ‘mechanical’ voice and with ‘a touch of humanity.’ In his words, ‘Science is best sold with a thrill.’ He has not steered me wrong thus far, even if I am certain that my meticulous note-taking and measurements will be convincing enough without the bolstering of ‘thrills.’ Now, for the context.

Arbalith is an island nation composed of a single, towering Tree whose canopy brushes the sky, and whose roots have (fairly recently) covered the surface of the island completely. My people live on the inside of the Tree, which is hollow inside except for the many connected walkways, struts, and balconies. The wealthy betters live in the Upper Levels, and the humbler workers in the Lower City, with the Thamber mines and Root Tunnels sprawling far below the ground. The quandary I hope to answer with my expedition is both economic and scientific—even, perhaps, a little philosophical. The Dryads are understood to occupy two categories, tame and wild. The less numerous tame population is put to work mining Thamber, while the wild population grows out of all sensible proportion in the vast warrens of the Root Tunnels. Of late an increasing number of wild Dryads have broken into our mines and stolen quite a bit of raw Thamber. The value of stolen Thamber has historically been low, but lately it has been equivalent to the cost of a small fleet of triremes per annum.

We Arbalithians are dark of skin and clothed richly in woven fabrics of purple and gold, finer to the touch than the whisper of a feather. We have no hungry, no poor, no sick; we have none who despair or betray us or revolt. Yet we remain humble. We thank Providence always for the immense gift given us: the Thamber which can be turned to our every need. With the gems (golden, jewel-like sap frozen diamond-hard) we heal our sick, reshape the limbs of our City-Tree, light our homes, soothe our pains, mark our celebrations; in every way it makes us the dominant nation of the world.

So, I left my home in the Lower-Middle Level at a brisk pace and navigated the crowds that swarmed the causeway. The causeway is broad enough to accommodate ten pedestrians walking abreast, and spirals gently down the length of the interior of the City-Tree, connecting just about every residence that is bored into the inner surface of the Tree. The transition from the Middle City to the Lower City is gradual and subtle, best evidenced by slightly shabbier doorframes and surfaces, and by Arbalithians walking about in simpler and more practical clothing. I soon came upon a small crowd upon the causeway. They were gathered in a semicircle around a point I could not see at first—someone or something up against the railing on the edge of the causeway. Pushing to the front of the crowd (easy because most were curious, but keeping wary distance), I saw that a tamed Dryad varietal was lying with its back to the railing as though it had been pushed there. I immediately began to take mental note of the creature—I had seen them only in textbooks before—while ignoring the crowd around me, who seemed to be speaking in heated tones about something or other.

The creature was roughly human-sized, and its skin was of a hard, powdery bark, brown-gray and smooth. Four gnarled legs lay in a tangle on the surface of the causeway, while its two arms had shrunk close to its body, protecting some small, precious thing. Most intriguing of all to me were the features of its face, which crossed the threshold between florae and faunae in ways that no illustrator had satisfactorily captured. Its eyes were large and black and somehow insectoid, but with a somber golden ring rather like a human iris in the center, and this ring darted swiftly from face to face. Its lipless mouth hung open, a craggy black hole in the lower part of an otherwise smooth face. The thing most alien about the creature, which I fear I will fail to capture adequately in this short passage, is the sheer lack of movement. My mind, I suppose, might expect a creature thus cornered to be panting heavily, twitching, or perhaps struggling to find an escape. Instead it was as still as stone, except for those eyes that continued to rove around the crowd. Finally, I turned my attention to the prattling of the crowd around me.

It seemed the creature was clutching a small but valuable pouch of Thamber that it had snatched from a passerby. None seemed to know how the Dryad had ascended to the City from the mines. These observations were of no scientific value, and thus I soon became bored. The party from whom the Thamber had been snatched—a Lower City woman whose gestures were very animated as she called for the extermination of the creature—was beginning to annoy me also, but I lingered long enough to see the Dryad put down. A soldier came and, using a brightly lit Thambral blade, parted the Dryad’s head from its body, and the woman’s Thamber from its now limp hands. Extermination, you see, is more cost-effective in these cases, as compared to hauling the creature back down to the mine. The supply of Dryad workers is near endless.

I returned to my home and attempted to resume packing, but found I was too restless, and made this journal entry instead.

Chapter 2

The Journal of Thurso Diamante

City-Tree Arbalith, Thurso’s Home, Morning of the 32nd of Spring.

Two days ago, now, Lord Shorey invited me rather suddenly to an eminent Politimancer’s ball. I recall spluttering that I had preparations to make, that I hadn’t the time to procure formal dress from a Clothmancer. Lord Shorey laughed and pounded my back—a habit of his—and told me that he had already arranged everything. I therefore had no choice but to reply that I would delightedly accompany him, and that I had only to tell Jihanna where I would be.

Nonsense! Lord Shorey had boomed through his mustache. Bring her along too! She’ll be the darling of the party.

I knew in an instant what he had meant. She is very lovely, and having her on my arm as I enter a new room never fails to cause a thrill to run through my stomach. The gaze of those that turn in wonder are a great compliment to our pairing. I can only imagine the thrill of bearing a golden sash in reward for the findings of the expedition. I might then attract an equal share of the amazement! But I must not let my thoughts run away.

Unlike the less sophisticated monarchies and fiefdoms of the continent, Arbalith distinguishes its nobility by rewarding feats of commercial significance with golden sashes and a status not unlike lordship. Upon gaining one, a citizen may employ others to work for them, and may use their wealth politically—an act which is, thankfully, not allowed for those living in the Lower City. The wealthiest of all tend to be Politimancers, whose wealth is simultaneously acquired from, and dispensed toward, political ends.

Jihanna and I arrived at the ball in richly embroidered purple gowns that flowed down our shoulders and over our arms, trailing on the polished timber floor. The wrapping of the gowns was strange to us, and we had to hold our arms higher than we were accustomed to. Jihanna, of course, mastered this before I did. Before long she was gliding wherever she went, graceful as a dancer, her dark eyes glittering in the light. She had the bearing of a continental queen. I stumbled and shuffled along beside her, or else in her wake, as we wound our way through the guests until we came to Lord Shorey. Almost every guest wore a golden sash of distinction in some field or other. We must have passed a dozen Politimancers and Engineers and Admirals whose clothes shone like sunbursts with all their Thamber badges. I avoided their gaze, as I was gripped with the bizarre fear that one of them would see my clumsiness and cast me out, taking me for an uninvited guest.

We reached Lord Shorey and a knot of laughing guests, and they all turned as one to look at Jihanna for a breathless moment before looking at me and nodding politely. She truly would be the darling of the party.

Thurso! Lord Shorey gripped me by the shoulder and submerged me in the midst of the guests. This is Thurso Diamante, the Naturalist I was telling you all about.

They all turned to me, nodding once more, telling me it was a pleasure to meet me, and continued with their previous conversation.

My memory is perfect, highly academic, and always has been. Thus, I can recall and transcribe for you their words without error.

You must tread carefully, Lady Leywin, or else I shall think you are accusing me of being undeserving of my wealth and position, said a smiling, slim-faced woman with enormous Thamber beads suspended from her ears—each the size of a child’s closed fist. They floated weightlessly by their magic under her ears, radiant, fully charged with the sun’s power, each worth a year’s allowance for Jihanna and I combined.

Of course, Lady Karalai, of course, Leywin said. She was a squat and somber-looking woman. "I must revise both my tone and my wording. It is only that, theologically, wealth is considered to be proof of divine favor. I do not mean to imply that Providence blessing us with wealth erases our inherent worth. Quite the opposite."

I am only teasing. It is an interesting theory, but in my view, why not eliminate the middle-man so to speak? Let one’s wealth prove one’s worth without appealing to the divine? Do you not all agree? Lady Karalai said, pausing for a fraction of a second. "Ah! Never mind, this bores me. Tell me, girl—you well-dressed young thing—how is it a Naturalist can afford all this