A Manifold of Bindings (The Scrolls of Azbel Book 2)

by John Mangold

  “That filthy, duplicitous, mortog,” Maluem growled. “After all of his talk of Bocors and the like! Where is the wretch now? I would relish the opportunity to demonstrate what a Bocor can do when properly motivated.”

  “Not necessary,” Torrez replied, a note of dark sarcasm in his voice. “Thayne was going to turn me over to the royals for a bonus bounty. Instead, I kept my life, and Dorjakt’s staff absorbed Thayne’s. Paid in full, I would say!”

  “I have little choice but to agree,” Maluem replied. “Still, that is one demise I will always regret not witnessing.”

  With more than a little effort, Maluem managed to cast a modified force bubble around Shelia's still form. With this spell in effect, time would pass exceptionally slowly within the small perimeter of her casting. It was an extraordinarily complex spell, made more so by her injuries and the proximity of Cruentus. Apparently, the woman had never seen such a spell cast as she insisted on having an intimate view of the process.

  After the incantations were in place, Maluem made sure to instruct the former assassin to stay a healthy distance away from Shelia. With intrinsic abilities such as Cruentus’s, the slightest touch could cause the bubble to collapse, releasing entropy upon the woman within. Resurrecting Shelia was going to be demanding enough without having to deal with the twin ravages of rigor mortis and rot.

  With Shelia seen to, Maluem moved to the front of the small control cabin to take up the seat next to Torrez. As she settled gingerly down upon it, her ribs transmitting to her a constant litany of pain, Torrez began feeding her a stream of impenetrable data. His babble appeared to concern flight paths and arrival vectors, all of which she could not begin to comprehend, even if she had a mind to listen. However, the question that ended his jargon-filled jabber seized her attention.

  “So, what will you do once we get there?”

  “From what my visions showed me,” Maluem explained, “there should be a small ruined structure at the center of the island guarded by a lone sentry. It is there that we will begin our search. You will stay in this mechanical contraption and keep it in the air until we signal our need for departure.”

  “Maluem, do you know why that island is barren?” Torrez asked, eyeing Maluem as though she had proposed a suicide pact. “It is thoroughly contaminated. Nothing can survive out there for more than thirty minutes. Even if you manage to get in and out that quickly, you won’t survive the week. Your skin will dissolve off your body, your muscles will rot off your bones, all while you steadily puke up your guts!”

  “My force bubble will keep such poisonous curses at bay,” Maluem replied. “Furthermore, I will have Volo with me to bolster my defenses. I doubt even the most toxic fumes could harm an apparition such as he. The final member of our party will be Cruentus. Her innate immunity to magic should defend her well enough from mystic attacks, while her healing attributes will protect her from any other forms of assault.”

  “Cruentus?” Torrez repeated in disbelief. “Why would you want to take that skrite with you?”

  “As I said earlier,” Maluem explained. “My visions have revealed numerous details of the object I seek. From this, I have reason to believe that powerful curses have been assigned to this device to stave off the foolhardy hands of adventure seekers-”

  “Not unlike ours,” Volo put in, his form now becoming opaque as he sat on the seat behind Maluem.

  “Yes, well,” Maluem continued after a sigh. “That said, I doubt we will have time to use spell breakers or the like to try and overcome the obstacles we face. As such, I believe Cruentus is the ideal person to seize the prize. Her innate abilities will protect her well enough, sparing us the ill effects of any magical traps. Our larceny will be detected, to be sure, but that is why we will be relying on your skills in keeping this mountain of cogs and steel functioning long enough to retrieve us and effect our escape. I trust you will be more successful in this endeavor than you were on our last flight.”

  Before Torrez could reply to Maluem’s barb, a fourth voice spoke out from behind the trio, catching all three off guard.

  “So, I get to grab this gadget. Is that what you just volunteered me for?”

  “Correct, Cruentus,” Maluem began. “I apologize for not asking you properly. However, we are pressed for time and-”

  “So, your mission fails without me, right?” Cruentus interrupted.

  “Once again, your statement rings true,” Maluem replied. “But, seeing as how we freed you-”

  “And I freed you,” Cruentus interrupted again. “Debt paid. At this point, I owe you nothing. Right?”

  “Yes, one could look at it that way,” Maluem replied, becoming a bit annoyed with the woman’s implication. “Am I to conclude that now that the accounts are balanced, you no longer wish to assist our group in our endeavors?”

  “I have not led you to conclude anything, yet,” Cruentus replied, mockingly imitating Maluem’s speech. “I will do my part on one condition. Once I retrieve this piece of chud, you deliver me to Furaxis. Deal?”

  “What?” Torrez jumped in. “We aren’t going there! Fly right into the hands of those savages? You’re insane!”

  “Now hold on, Torrez-” Maluem attempted to break-in.

  “Savages?” Cruentus repeated in a mocking tone. “You should talk! Fact is, you don’t have a choice. Either take me to Furaxis, or you get nothing!”

  “Fine, forget it,” Torrez responded. “I’m not flying to psycho country. We will find a different way, one that doesn’t require this skrite’s help!”

  “Torrez, she’s right,” Maluem broke in forcefully. “We have no alternative. That cell is our only hope to bring back your wife, and Cruentus is our key to it. Furthermore, we have exhausted every feasible port to our south. North is our only path to salvation, via the Tear of Azeza.”

  “That’s not true,” Torrez protested. “We could fly west to Vanquil.”

  “This contraption can fly the vast distance to Vanquil, without stopping?” Maluem inquired. “That is twice our distance from Furaxis and three times our distance from Camilos!”

  “Well,” Torrez began, looking down at the labyrinth of dials and meters before him. “Maybe not all the way. But, with some luck, I could belly land the Gorgon on the water, and we could float the last few hundred miles-”

  Cruentus barked a derisive laugh, drawing a dark glare from Torrez.

  “As I said, our only clear path lies to the north,” Maluem said. “From there, we can continue west if we choose. However, before we confirm such a course, I must know one thing from you, Cruentus. Why do you desire to return to Furaxis? After what you suffered at their hands, I can scarcely believe you would wish to see their lands again.”

  “The hands of my enemy or the hands of my countrymen, which has harmed me more?” Cruentus asked, not pausing to hear her answer. “It doesn’t matter, you don’t understand, so let me simplify. I have unfinished business in Furaxis. Leave me there. What follows won’t concern you.”

  “We will revisit that last part again soon,” Maluem replied. “For the present time, you and I have an accord. You will assist us in retrieving the Cell, and, in return, we will deliver you where you wish to go. Beyond that, we will decide as fortune dictates, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Cruentus replied with a nod, her clockwork eyes focused on Maluem.

  Torrez grumbled something unintelligible and then spit on the floor of the cabin before adding his unsolicited opinion.

  “Fine, it’s not like anything else we’ve done has made any sense. We are coming up on the Tear. I will be able to drop you three off on the southern tip, and then I will have to hover offshore. The Gorgon’s thin skin won’t protect us from that poison. Just get in, get your prize, and signal me when you’re ready. I’ll pull you out in the blink of a mortog’s eye.”

  Maluem nodded to Torrez as she slowly, painfully, regained her feet. Leading the way back down into the cargo bay, she turned her attention to the mental deluge flowing fro
m the head of Cruentus. Even with the woman's open connection, Maluem was finding her motives hard to discern. Everything flowing from her felt brusque, coarse, and vulgar more often than not. Yet for all this, Cruentus’s emotions were a swirl of chaos, showing no pattern of predictability.

  When Maluem reviewed the sparse argument Cruentus had presented, she still could not fathom why this woman wished to return to the lands of her involuntary metamorphosis. Was it a lust for revenge, a desire to understand her torment, or did her erstwhile masters control her still? Maluem could not be positive. She only knew that, for now, their paths lay upon a shared route. She would worry about what lay ahead once the most immediate hurdle was safely behind them.

  40.

  Death’s Tear

  As they reached the lower cabin, the ramp that made up the front wall began to lower. The heat that flowed in with the rush of air was enough to make Maluem wish she already had her spell in place. From what she remembered from her geography lectures, they were still well south of Azbel’s equator, yet the elevated temperature disputed this. She could not help but wonder if this was another effect of the contamination Torrez spoke of. Maluem had abandoned her greatcoat, rolling up the sleeves of her blouse nearly to her shoulders. Slinging her staff case across her back, she approached the edge of the ramp, peering off into the blinding light of the morning beyond.

  Maluem could see they were quickly approaching the shore of what must be the Tear of Azeza. It was hard to make out the island's topography as the surface appeared to be blanketed with a thick layer of snow, despite the sweltering heat. However, as they dropped down to a stable hover above the ground, the monstrous devices propelling the craft scattered the powder below it outward and upwards in great plumes.

  As flakes of the peculiar material flittered back downwards, drifting into the Gorgon’s cavernous mouth, Maluem caught a few chips on her outstretched palm. It immediately became apparent what the substance was. Leaden ash blanketed the entire island, right up to an array of ruins crowning a small hill that dominated the heart of the miniature continent. What could cause such wanton destruction, Maluem wondered.

  Even from the scant flakes that frosted her fingers, Maluem could sense their sickly cargo. This material was heavy with the foul death that saturated the land it smothered. Before more flecks could touch her skin, Maluem conjured a protective bubble surrounding her. It was only after doing so that she thought of Cruentus’s spell absorbing talents. Maluem’s concerns proved unwarranted, however as when she gazed around the interior of the immense craft, she discovered her companion had already leaped from the lip of the ramp, landing on the shore below.

  Waiting for Cruentus to progress a little inland, Maluem leaped down to join her, Volo floating down at her side. It appeared that he had begun experimenting with the benefits of his projection. Maluem considered the logical extremes that such abilities could lead, immediately realizing that such supposition should be tabled for a more appropriate time. They could very well be walking into open combat, which was rarely the opportune time to experiment with new techniques.

  Maluem began looking around her, attempting to gain her bearings and plot a specific course to their goal. This was hampered somewhat by Torrez’s departure, its immense engines producing tornados of ash as the craft swept upwards into the sky. Attempting to shield her eyes from the swirling ash, a useless gesture as her spell already held the debris at bay, Maluem turned her eyes to the ground. What the scattered ash revealed shocked her to her core.

  She had thought the ground felt odd, less like soil than a tangle of dried branches and twigs. As the ash retreated from around her boots, she realized the surface she trod was nothing of the sort. What lay below was a near-impenetrable matt of bones. It was not easy to tell one set of bones from another, or their precise origin, though a skull here and there confirmed human pedigrees. However, most of the bones adjacent to the shore were clearly aquatic in nature. Regardless, the remains were legion and appeared to have been amassing there for a considerable time.

  As the group progressed inland, advancing up the central peak's slope, the bones protruding through the ash took on a different nature. These seemed to be more of the human sort, with the corroded bits of armor and weapons clearly present. More than a few battles had obviously been fought on these shores throughout the centuries as the weapons ranged from antiquated swords and lances to firearms of dizzying complexity. Whatever these soldiers had hoped to achieve, theirs was a fool’s errand. They had all met the same fate at the hands of the noxious ash.

  As Maluem watched Cruentus plow through the ash ahead of them, she witnessed the woman plucking first one, then another axe from the skeletal remains of the fallen. With a few practice spins, Cruentus found their balance, giving a small nod of approval. These were clearly the weapons she preferred, and Maluem recognized how well they suited her personality. Maluem only hoped that their brutal nature did not mirror Cruentus’s mentality too closely, or she might prove more of an encumbrance than a blessing.

  As they crested a large brow in the small mountain’s flank, the group acquired a clear view of the ruins that served as their goal. The final approach to this central structure was a relatively straightforward, gently sloping plane. The stone-like edifice squatted on the mountain like a cap on a giant’s head, mirroring her vision. Maluem could only guess that the entrance to the chamber she had viewed lay somewhere within it.

  However, the lone sentry standing guard was also accurate to her vision, effectively blocking the singular entrance. Even at this distance, it was easy to see that the form held no life within it, let alone any flesh on its bones. Yet there it stood, inexplicably upright in an open parody of military attention. What its empty sockets could be on the watch for Maluem could not tell, but a persistent, whispery voice insisted they should not disturb his silent vigil.

  “There is a skeleton blocking the door,” Cruentus called back to Maluem and Volo from her advanced position. “I will clear it.”

  “Let us not be too hasty,” Maluem shouted back. “That sentry may be more than he appears. I believe it would be best if-”

  “Once in, I will scout the structure. You two move up to flank me,” Cruentus interrupted, turning to sprint towards their goal.

  “Cruentus…Cruentus, halt!” Maluem bellowed, but the woman was already beyond hearing, or more likely beyond caring. “Skagit! The woman is far too brash! One cannot take such direct tactics in situations such as these!”

  “Funny, I seem to remember someone telling me ‘the direct method is always the best method.’ Wasn’t that you, Maluem?” Volo said as he slid up next to her.

  “Thank you so very much, Volo,” Maluem replied as she struggled to increase her pace over the broken ground. “If we survive this, I shall have to reward your extraordinary memory with a properly robust kick in the rump.”

  “Considering my current form, that should prove amusing,” Volo replied as he easily kept pace with Maluem.

  Looking towards the singular entrance, Maluem caught sight of Cruentus as she reached the macabre guardian. During Cruentus’s advance, the skeleton soldier made not a twitch, nor had he shown the slightest sign of life. Still, as Cruentus skidded to a stop before him, her arms crossed, axe heads extended out on either side of her, Maluem breathed in to scream out a final plea to stop.

  Cruentus’s arms swung out in a scissor motion, the twin axes slicing the lone figure in half before Maluem could form the first vowel of her command. With the impact of the severed torso on the leaden ash, the world around them exploded. Maluem’s worst fears had come to pass. It was indeed a trap.

  The ash to all sides of them exploded upwards in great plumes as legions of the undead gained their feat. All were armed and clothed differently, according to the equipment they possessed when they were slain. Still, despite this disparity in one-time allegiance and expertise, all were now unified with a single purpose. As their rotted heads turned as one to center on their disp
ersed party, their malevolent intent became quite clear. Kill all intruders. In the next pulse, this ghoulish regiment moved in to make their combined desire a reality.

  Cruentus wasted no time, letting loose with a banshee scream that would have driven terror into the beating hearts of the stoutest mortal opponent. However, a beating heart was a physical attribute none of their opponents possessed. Clearly, the masses surrounding them were unimpressed because, for all the ferocity of her sonic assault, the undead soldiers did not falter a single step in their advance.

  “Cruentus, your opponents are far beyond the fear of pain or death,” Maluem yelled. “I suggest you save screaming for later, should our defeat require it. For now, start fighting your way into that structure!

  “Volo, I need you to assume your flame apparition form and see if you cannot set some of these corpses alight. Can you do that?”

  Without answering, Volo shifted his appearance in a blaze of blinding glory. When the transformation was complete, Maluem noticed that he had added a few embellishments to his projection. Two elaborate wings now sprouted from his back, each feather a licking flame of balefire. The effect transformed Volo from a mere flame apparition into an angelic god of blazing fury. Even knowing the man as she did, Maluem could not help but be momentarily awestruck by his altered appearance.

  With a whoosh, Volo put his new wings to the test, soaring up to hover some twelve feet above Maluem’s head, scattering a new cloud of ash from his departure point. At that moment, she recalled that she was generally loath to test new theories in the heat of battle. However, given their suddenly dire situation, Maluem was more than willing to make an exception.

  Looking about her, Maluem found that the encroaching wall of cadaverous warriors had drawn closer, almost to the point of striking distance. She would have to push them back to gain a few pulses to think. With a hasty incantation, Maluem sent out a powerful force blast in all directions, catching the advancing horde full on.