He had noticed her from some ways off; she carried the scent of lavender, quite at odds with the general stench of rot and old water.
She didn’t seem at all alarmed; she hadn’t moved and wasn’t inclined to, even as he got closer. Just stared at him, openly and without any malice, or any other emotion, for that matter.
At about the point where his acute hearing would be able to pick up on it, she spoke to him. “Hello.”
He stopped, keeping distance being a good tactic.
“Hello,” he replied, softly, to see if she could hear him in turn.
Apparently, she could. “Mother said you would be along here. She sent me to meet you and invite you for supper.”
That got him to raise an eyebrow. Something that foresaw his arrival and wanted to talk about it, undoubtedly intriguing, but even more so because of the messenger. This thing was a doll, much like the golem, although probably given life through physical form gathered as sticks, grasses, and a small animal in the swamp.
It had very little life and would likely expire as soon as its task was done.
The form of a little girl was just for show, he saw serrated teeth within the lips when she smiled, the slightly purple limbs, like a complete set of bruised flesh were only just in the right shape and structure. Appearing as a young child would help to hide these facets of a job done hastily, but one done for a purpose.
Whoever had sent this minion could be dangerous, so he needed to assess it.
“All right, will you lead me to her?” He asked softly.
Again, she seemed to have no trouble hearing him. “Of course, follow me.”
The hop off the stone and clutch of her stained flower dress matched the sweet tone of her voice, as did the skipping she did to lead him on into the swamp. All of them affectations of a child, but no mere child would be in the Prison, nor would the creator of such a thing be anything close to normal.
An hour later, he was proven right.
The entity that had crafted the little girl was no normal being and certainly suited the swampy surroundings. She led him through some difficult terrain, all the while hopping over the water that took him up to his waist and finding a route through brush where no path at all should be. Eventually, they descended into a ravine, the watery soil and rotting grasses giving way to craggy sides and a solid surface.
Not that it was dry, the humidity aside, the walls had water running down in silent sheets, the slow drip in the distant echoed up as well. The girl led him further down inside the shallow V formed by the sides and into a cave.
A short distance within and all light was smothered by the grip of the damp stone surroundings. He let his eyes adjust, only to realize that with so little light no being relying on sight could see very well.
He made a negligent thought and effort of will to summon a ball the size of his hand into being, a sphere of yellow flame burning on the oxygen in the air. It provided a desultory light, but more than enough for his vision to see all around, and to quickly lock onto the source of the chuckle coming from his right.
The being was female, obviously, in a way that made his eyes sore with her nakedness. She was old, very old, with pale skin the texture of bark. Not like the trees outside the cave, healthy old leathery bark from a lot of time spent drying in the sun.
And she was naked, breasts that hung from sagging flesh at the shoulders and next to the turkey gullet of a neck. Nipples stretched longer by the weight of piercings that held large loops of tarnished metal almost far enough down to draw the eye to thighs riddled and pockmarked by age.
Liver spots, warts, the entire plethora of possible designs old age had in store for every being who degraded over time. The woman was the very essence of a hag worn down by time and age but still clinging resiliently to life. Her voice, when she spoke, was a dry crackling wheeze, rich with old mirth and deadened by age, nuances carried in the tones of her cackle were much like her body looked.
“I apologize, traveler, I forget that others cannot see within my domain.”
He didn’t answer immediately; instead, he looked around to assess what else was hidden by the darkness. The little girl was off to one side, untroubled that her mission to find him was complete, she had picked up a doll of straw wrapped in a rotting material dress and was idly talking to herself.
“No apology necessary, I can look after my own needs thank you.” He spoke softly, like someone not wanting to rile up a wild animal.
“Hehehehehehe.” The cackle was the epitome of an imaginary witch; it sent a shiver along his spine. Survival instinct spoke loudly that he should not take her appearance lightly, part of that instinct informed by the blindfold she wore. He could see where her skin and hairs grew around the sides of the red cloth tied around her eyes, above the bulbous nose and slightly restraining the mane of pure white hair.
She had worn it for a very long time, if not all of her life, and with it, she should not be able to see at all. So that was why the darkness did not bother her, her sight was not natural, but supernatural and uninhibited by mortal requirements.
The stereotype often proved correct in his experience, that she had sent the girl to find him and could see despite the blindfold.
“You are a seer.” He made it a statement.
Another cackled followed. “Ah, you are a smart one indeed. Yes, young man, I am a seer, able to see the events of far away, the past and the future. The things I know, the things I have seen, and they would boggle your dear mind.”
“I wonder.” He followed up the sarcasm quickly. “Why do you want to see me then?”
“Dear boy, should we not take a cup of tea or some such and trade tales? What happened to the manners of the young? I recall long conversation and diatribes; how I miss the diatribes. The ones I give, of course, wise sayings and incomprehensible ramblings all meant to show you how much respect you should have for me.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she talked right over him.
“Oh I know, yes, all the things you would say. I don’t have much to do with my gift here in this Prison. I have foreseen your coming and the conversation with you. Even now I can see several topics ahead, and I notice your complete lack of regard, never mind respect for one such as I.”
She stopped, and he waited a moment before answering, just to see if she would reveal any more. Already his mind was working at the possibilities, that she could, in fact, know some time ahead made her extremely dangerous, able to predict his actions.
“OK, so you can see I have little time to banter. So tell me then, why do you want to see me?”
She chuckled this time low in her throat, a growling, and satisfied sound. “Do you see young man? How it is that I help you feel better by letting you ask the question. Not just giving you all the answers before you can speak. How polite am I?”
He doubted that somewhat, her apparent satisfaction meant she had waited to see if that were the one thing he would, in fact, say among the possible things he could have said. She was manipulating something here, and it was a dangerous game, she knew that too.
“Yes, very.” He gave a slight bow, knowing it may be predictable, but intending nonetheless to throw as many possibilities around as he could. Feigning newfound respect could always be useful.
“Ah, yes. Well, as to why I want to see you, it isn’t for your very manly charms.” She thrust up a sagging breast at that and groped it delinquently, creating a grotesque sight.
“As you can imagine I want to talk to you out of my own self-interest. And I can assure you that it will be for yours as well.”
He held his tongue, and the desire to throw up, in check.
“My sister of Delphi speaks only for the greater good, assisting all those who would venture there. Through her beautiful homunculi, quite a bit more mature than my own example here.” She gestured with a wizened hand at the little girl who played with a straw doll.
“She even interacts much more closely with some, through the flesh go
lems. But me, I did not want to just benefit others as she thought we all should.”
The crone smiled, showing abundant gaps between broken yellow teeth.
“I decided to use my gifts for my own advantage. And can you believe it, I went too far, too many things to control from too far off and I was caught out, then sent here. Mores the pity don’t you think?”
He smiled slightly, feigned, but perhaps she couldn’t read his mind and would rely on the pretense. “Of course.”
“Hmmm, well yes. But I didn’t ask you over for a general natter. I believe I offered you dinner, yes? In all of my visions though I could see you would not eat most of the fare I could provide from my meager surroundings, but I did manage something.” Cracked yellow and black fingernails were prominently long on gnarled old hands when she waved something forward from the back.
Six more of the little girls carried in a hefty platter on top of some logs, the platter looked like it was of baked clay, and it and its contents were so heavy that the girls struggled under the weight. If he was right and they were creations, then they were also stronger than any little girl had a right to be, so the roasted animal carcass must have been quite something.
Except.
“How did you manage to cook it without the usual Prison effect?” He asked, honestly curious. Brown fat crisped the sides of the meat; sallow steam rose off it, bringing the roasting smell to his nostrils. It looked quite real and smelled delicious.
She had her head tilted toward him, like a bird watching a small insect it was about to swoop down on.
“I have learned much by gazing into the future of this place; it will not always be a Prison you know. I have seen it become a place connected to the planes, portals that open and close for whistles and words, songs and colors. All connecting through this little dimension they created.”
A grotesquely dirty fingernail punctured the side of the roast, letting out steam and the smell of nourishing, wet, meat. She carved the nail down the front, peeling back a layer that flopped down to reveal a grainy reddish brown interior.
“I learn much by being able to see, the methods of circumventing the prison’s magic, its nature, and rules. They are all fake after all, so manipulating them is simply a matter of the correct means and energy.”
She stuck the greasy finger into her mouth and sucked on it grotesquely, the sound echoing in the small cavern.
Interesting, and valuable, but also a dangerous ability when it wasn’t his own. “So why do you want to see me?”
The lips of the hag were only visible as darker skin among the wrinkles; they drew up in a thin smile.
“Because of two things, the first is that you shine, so bright you near blind my other sight, so much power, such potential tapped and yet more untapped. You are a beacon burning through the myriad of possible futures.”
That helped him, so she did see the possible, perhaps even the probable, but not the actual. If she were a genuinely gifted seer then determining the most likely future would be the most dangerous thing, and how often and quickly she could do it. But if she had to sort through them, and of course she did get caught and sent to the Prison, then she was not infallible.
He kept his eyes on her and remained aware of the little girls who spread out around the cavern, supposedly at play with little dolls, and other flotsam turned into toys.
“I have seen that you will learn more of this place, and I want that understanding and your aid. You could escape, I know this, and I also know that with the understanding you will gain, I could learn how to rule this little dimension. That is what I want.”
Oh dear, she could see that much, and of course, that meant she could also tell others. But she must have thought it worthwhile to bring Fenix here and tell him even though a possible future was that he would try to kill her.
An exciting quandary, to try to risk death or feel superior enough that she could avoid death or defeat him with her own power.
But which possibility was it? All this double thinking was a delightful challenge for him.
“You still make no move to eat?” She asked, lowering her voice in what might have been a sultry flirt, on any being a few centuries younger and wearing more clothes.
He smiled, showing his teeth. “I still have no reason to trust you.”
That cackle sounded out again, harrowing his bones it was so vile.
“Of course you don’t, and even now I can see the futures multiplying as you try to work out what is going on. I need you to show me what is in the Emerald Palace, which place holds a great Secret, about the Prison and its workings. But I cannot see inside! It is hidden from my gaze by ancient and powerful magic. Even trying to look too hard I risk dying in the attempt.”
She spat to one side, obviously frustrated.
“Yes, you say so, but why would I want to help you?” He asked.
“Quite simple really, young man. I can tell you things that will be very useful to your future, things that could be of great benefit to you.”
“So tell all of the fortune tellers, I need something concrete.”
“Ha!” She blurted. “Concrete you say? I find you reprehensible, such power in such a being, a man no less. You are wasting what you have; even She knew it before She betrayed you. Did you know that? She spat on you when you were gone, using and discarding you. Worthless tool that you are once your purpose is done. But I could help shape you into so much more!”
The gap-toothed smile spread over the crone’s face once again.
“And of course, if you will not help me I can always kill you and take your gift for my own. Believe me, I have thought this out and planned it. You will be a challenge for sure, but one worth expending my energy on.”
Putting aside the jibes, the insults, and the obvious ploy at getting him angry by using Her and what She had done to him, Fenix learned a lot from the short speech.
The seer had to use energy to power her other sight, and her power was limited, he had suspected that was so. After all, in the swamp and with her lack of general combat skills it was unlikely she could stay well nourished.
But he should not underestimate that she had planned to kill him as an outcome, but it was not going to be as sure as she thought.
And he had to kill her; she knew far too much and could get far too well informed for him to leave as a loose end. So it was not a question of whether he would, only how.
But he should have bought enough time by now.
One swift motion had his bow in hand, but even as two arrows streaked through the space occupied by the hag just a moment before, she was already gone into the shadows with a cackle.
“You cannot fool me!” Her voice echoed out of the dark, even as his third arrow with an enchanted arrowhead struck the ceiling over by the entrance. An explosion of blue light and he fired again, randomly with three more, hearing the steel tips pinging off the walls. Rock broke and cascaded down, filling up the entrance to the cavern while around him the little girls changed into something far less innocent.
Wings tore through their short little dresses, the rip of cloth loud in his ears even through the sound of tumbling stone. Their eyes went from owlish to a slitted reptile look with a literal blink of their lids, fingernails grew long and sharp while their mouths opened wide, wider still, and serrated teeth appeared within. They bent over, all six of them hunching into forms that leaped about with sudden flaps of their bat-like wings on all fours.
She had likely predicted that he could attack, one or several of the possibilities in her discussions. And she could predict relative outcomes, different alternative ways for him to attack. But ultimately, she couldn’t see them all, she would use her power to evaluate the changing events as they happened, judging the next few seconds or minutes based on what was happening.
Overall, she must feel that her capacity to work through the options would exceed his ability to create them.
But she was wrong, he had been ready to increase the number of variabl
es and trust his own survival instinct over hers from about halfway through the conversation.
Idly, he noticed that the glamour on the meat had faded, the maggot-ridden corpse of whatever it had been was decayed and rotten, nothing like the scrumptious feast it had appeared to be. A fiendish girl leaped over it to get at him but he was waiting for the attack, he caught her with an outstretched arm, palm to her forehead where he gripped and held her tightly. First, the creature clawed at him, yelling and biting under his hand, the small cuts and scrapes didn’t bother him much, neither did the toxins from her dirty nails and claws.
Then she shuddered and screamed, smoke drew its way up from under his palm where he scorched a pattern of glyphs into her forehead. It didn’t smell like burned flesh, at least not from most mammals, this was more like burning plant matter, still green and wet.
When he was done, and it only took a few seconds, he tossed her aside just as two more leaped onto him. He swatted one aside with the bow and caught the other, imprinting the same kind of brand onto her forehead as well.
“You know you will lose don’t you?” The hag’s voice crackled out from the shadows. With power over the senses, she could hide from him quite easily. But he had her trapped, she just didn’t know it yet.
He fired in the apparent direction of the sound, putting his back to another attack from the girls who took the opportunity and jumped him. Quite deliberately, he took her bait as she cajoled him, making him swing around and fire into the darkness, expending his arrows while the fake children lacerated his flesh in shallow ribbons.
It didn’t bother him to play along, he took his time to grab each of the girls, in turn, burning the same pattern of glyphs into their heads even as he made some effort to dodge and avoid them.
While she could keep him reacting the situation was well within her control, but he would turn the tables on her quite soon.
The last girl staggered back with a smoking set of marks burned into what amounted to her skin. Two more were beaten back by the bow, and he fired another arrow at a third to warn it off. Acting would make no difference, she would see through it for the farce it was, but steadily he was going to increase the odds of his success over hers either way.
Convict Fenix Page 38
