by Jeff Gunzel
He wailed a mournful, desolate cry before his hands slapped onto the sides of his face. He began to sob. Fingernails dug deep into his forehead while he moaned, causing fresh, deep cuts to form. Lines of red ran down his face and neck. Morita held her breath, having no idea what to do or how to react. Abruptly, his moaning stopped, his hands falling to his sides. Despite his bloody face, his expression was calm, in control. That alone made Morita shiver. “My lord?” Her hushed voice was nothing but a squeak.
His soft brown eyes held an odd...fondness. It was as if he had somehow found peace during that insane outburst. “I have no use for your apologies,” he said melodiously. “You did as you saw fit. Since I can no longer depend on Zhou, I must now depend on you and you alone.” With a slight hand gesture, a golden doorway split the air.
Morita scrambled back to her feet and watched him step through. “I swear I will not fail you, my lord,” she called out, finally finding her voice.
Halfway through the doorway, he stopped without looking back. “Of course you won’t. You can’t afford to.” The light tone of his voice was more like a song than a statement. The shimmering door snapped shut behind him.
Morita dropped to her knees, holding herself tightly. If he wanted me dead, he would have done it here. She rocked back and forth; her nervous laughter echoing off the stone nearly rivaled his. When her hysterics finally stopped, she sat back, knees pulled into her chest. Even then, her breaths came deep and heavy like she had been sprinting. If he wanted me dead, it would already be over, she repeated in her head.
Once she got back to her feet, it began to sink in. He still needed her. Mad as he was, he didn’t instill her abilities just to turn around and take her life. Time is what I need. And time is what I’ve just bought myself. She ran her hands down her sides and inhaled sharply, the slick, transparent film covering her body collecting between her fingers. She moved her hands across her neck, leaving behind a thick trail of the clear gel. Morita felt good suddenly. More than good. Not only had she gone unpunished for her betrayal of Zhou, but it appeared the “man in white,” as he was sometimes known, was still willing to work with her. He thinks he’s using me, but I’m the one in control here.
Realizing she was getting ahead of herself, she shook away the overconfident thought. Patience—that’s what’s gotten me this far. My time will come. She left the dark room and walked into the hall.
Gliding down the hallway, she watched the blue spheres of light dancing about in their glass prisons. Mirrored walls reflected her smooth moving image, hips swaying rhythmically with each graceful step. Tall and lean, she was as beautiful as she was deadly. Her confidence increased with each long stride. With that distraction over with, it’s time to deal with the tasks at hand. I think it’s time I paid Hashiki a little visit.
Although she found him peculiar and certainly abnormal, Morita couldn’t deny how useful the little feathered creature could be at times. Hunched and broken, he seemed most unassuming at first glance. An inferior being, low on the ladder of evolution. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. His ambition and general intelligence were second to none, and more than made up for his physical deficiencies. Hashiki was renowned for finding answers before the questions had even been asked. He was truly a marvel of nature in his own right.
Seeing Morita approaching, servants in dingy white clothing skittered to the opposite side of the hall. She received no more than a swift glance before they dropped to their stomachs, noses pressed flat to the red tiled floor. This was hardly the first time they had seen her naked, her shapely body glistening with putrid oils. She slinked on past as if they weren’t even there. But she saw them, could feel their rising terror. Show them kindness and respect, they might follow you. Grip their hearts with icy fear, and they will follow commands without question. Since the dawn of time, this has always been the way. Why don’t other leaders understand this?
When she reached Hashiki’s quarters, Morita pushed back the thick wooden door. The iron hinges groaned. She took one step inside before stopping, hesitating. Normally the little creature eagerly ran up to greet her, but not this time. She leaned against the doorway and watched with interest. Morita had always been intrigued by his work, and now would have a chance to watch his black magic firsthand.
Hashiki stood before his three-pronged crystal figurine, his one good hand raised in the air. He held a small, leather-handled object with a short, thin cord hanging from the end. At the end of the black cord was a single blue feather. It was unclear whether or not he had noticed Morita enter, but he continued on anyway. Gurgling and growling like a cat with its tail being yanked, Hashiki waved the odd wand around in wide, sweeping circles. His ever-present glass mask began to fog when his breathing increased, coming now in heavy bursts.
All the blue creatures hanging around the room had stopped bouncing around in their glass spheres, and now held perfectly still. Morita watched in wonder, intrigued by their sudden change in behavior. Used as nothing more than a source of light, she normally paid little attention to them. But this was odd. Never had they acted like this before. The blue light their bodies gave off had always been consistent, but now they were blinking on and off for some reason. Had they stopped to watch? Was it some kind of reaction to the energies given off by Hashiki?
His crystal began to pulse with a faint green light. Slow at first, like a steady heartbeat, it then began to speed up. The green light grew brighter while the pulsing sped up. With his mask now completely frosted over, the little creature gurgled and chirped frantically, circling the feather over his head. The blue spheres twinkled on and off rapidly, making Hashiki's movements look jerky and erratic in the sporadic flashes.
There came a blinding flash of white, forcing Morita to cover her eyes. She rubbed them, trying to make the smoky spots in her vision dissipate. After a bit of incessant blinking, she was able to focus on the enormous object that wasn't there before.
The large, armored ball radiated lines of yellow and gray steam, as if it had just been pulled from some sort of toxic inferno. Splotches of orange, thick like honey, bubbled and smoked from its metallic shell. After a short time, the shell began to give off a crackling sound, rolling back and forth, slightly. The crackling sound soon became a shrill creaking. The high-pitched clatter of metal grinding on metal filled the room while the lumbering giant unfolded before them.
Despite the creature’s great stature, its wide gray head hung low, humbled in the presence of its new masters. Thick, pinkish whiskers drooped from a broad slit of a mouth. With no pupils to speak of, it was difficult to tell exactly where it was looking. Rubbing its humanlike hands together nervously, tiny clawed legs wiggled across its chest, clacking against one another.
Morita strolled up to the beast, her greasy body glistening in the blue light. With the spectacle over with, the little blue beings had returned to their endless dance, bouncing around within their glass prisons. She reached out and ran her fingers down a thick whisker, giving the end a playful yet sharp little tug. The beast shied away from her touch, drawing in on itself shyly. For a moment, she thought it might pull back down into a metal ball, but it remained upright.
“Wonderful,” she whispered before turning to Hashiki. She stroked the top of his head with a gentle caress. “I see you're busy. Our business can wait until later.” The little creature cooed and popped at her gentle touch before turning its attention back to the giant. Morita left, quietly closing the door behind her. I’ll leave him be for now. I have more than one source of information at my disposal.
In no hurry, she moved methodically back down the hallway. She felt good—in control, the way things were meant to be. With her head mostly clear and a little extra time to think, a thought suddenly occurred to her. Her highly ambitious plans were not entirely self-dependent. Deep down inside, Morita knew she alone would not be able to enslave the Gate Keeper and force his followers to kneel before her, but by surrounding herself with competent individuals�
��specialists such as Hashiki, and even the man in white—there was a chance. Ridding herself of mindless, reckless creatures such as Zhou, who had proven to be a burden rather than an asset, only then could she achieve greatness.
Yes, that is the key, she thought. They are all tools, and like any other piece of equipment, it is the skill of the user that determines the final creation. No one ever worships the hammer or chisel that built the mighty castles of old. Tools. Essential, but in the end...insignificant and forgotten.
Before long, Morita stood before the narrow stairway leading upward. She trotted up the dark, lacquered steps, mindful of the torches dripping liquid fire on her left. At the top, she placed both hands on the circular, black stone door. After a few incoherent mutterings, her hands flashed a bright green against the stone, her eyes rolling back into her head. With a grinding sound, the massive slab rolled to the side, disappearing within the wall.
Morita was instantly bombarded by a pungent, sour stench. The odor was incredibly strong. It even overpowered her own rotten stench, streaming off her body from her earlier bath of sludge. With a hand over her mouth, she entered the room and walked towards the metal frame embedded into the far wall. At first glance, it was a wonder how the bubbling goo filling the frame didn’t spill onto the floor. The brown, mud-like substance bubbled and gurgled, releasing a fresh batch of sickening stench with each nauseating belch.
She reached out with her mind, attempting to form a link with the ghastly being. Despite her remarkable talent with such things, it still took a bit of time. The entity was alien in almost every way, and it took a fair amount of probing to form the mental connection. At last it clicked, like a simplistic latch falling into place. I know you can see what others cannot, her mind spoke in a series of odd sounds no human tongue could ever replicate. Give me an update. Tell what your eyes have seen.
At first nothing happened. Morita couldn’t tell if the being was confused, or perhaps resisting defiantly. Her growing irritation flashed away when her eyes were assaulted by vivid images. Her eyelids flickered up and down in an uncontrollable reflex. The images swirled about in a blur of color before joining together in a single moment in time.
Then she witnessed it all. The failed attempt on the Gate Keeper’s life. And not just by amateur thugs, but by the famed Tryads at that. Professional killers who never failed had been easily overpowered by that...thing. The vivid scene played itself out within a few heartbeats, then was over in a flash. Morita shook herself, trying to clear the lingering fuzz from her head.
Once her head was clear, she refocused her attention on the gluey monstrosity. It seems the demon has made even more enemies. Powerful ones at that. It garbled incoherently in response. “Now, to find out who sent them,” she said out loud, tapping her chin as she turned towards the door. “And more importantly, how to use this to my advantage.”
The way she saw things, information was nearly priceless. The only way information couldn’t be used to one’s advantage was to be ignorant of it in the first place. I must be kept aware at all times. Always stay one step ahead.
Upon leaving, there came a garbled sound from behind her that she simply couldn’t make out. It came from the beast, which seemed to be trying to communicate verbally. “What was that, mutant?” she taunted in a high-pitched voice. “Oh look, it’s trying to speak.”
The garbled sound came once more, a bit easier to comprehend. The bubbly voice sounded like a man whose head was being held underwater. “I’mmm sssssuffering. Please let...me dddie.”
Morita’s eyebrows rose in feigned pity, her lips puckering into a sorrowful circle. She tipped her head, looking at the creature sideways. “Oh, my poor, poor father. Please, allow me to make you this promise.” Her face hardened, no longer feigning pity. “The day I no longer find you useful, I swear you’ll get your wish.”
* * *
The old woman tugged fiercely at the iron cuff around her wrist. Her long, gray hair was tangled around her face and neck. Greasy and sweaty, it clung tightly. Pressing against the iron cuff with her chin for leverage, she attempted wiggling it back and forth with her other hand. The woman was very weak and frail now, and knew these attempts to free herself were futile. I have to keep trying, the old woman thought to herself, attempting the same maneuver on the other cuff. If I give up hope, I’m already dead.
“Please stop, my lady,” came a pleading voice from outside the cell. “If she ever sees you doing that, who knows what will happen to you.”
Recognizing the familiar voice, the old woman relaxed her arms, allowing them to flow back above her head. The chains clacked away, retracting back into the stone wall. “It’s good to see you, Brenda,” croaked the old woman, her voice hoarse and dry. There was another, softer click and the caged door swung open. In walked a young woman wearing a dingy white dress, same as the other servants. Her long, dark hair was held up in a tight bun, a practical way to wear it while cooking and cleaning. She looked sad, carrying a silver tray with crackers, cheese, and a tin cup filled with water. She laid it at the old woman’s feet. “I was told I could feed you today,” she said, perking up a bit with the good news.
“Is that so?” mumbled the old woman weakly. “Let’s see if I still remember how to eat.” Her short-lived laugh soon became a fit of harsh coughing.
The improper joke brought a hint of a smile across the dark-haired girl’s face. “If only I could be half as strong as you,” she mumbled.
“Yet I am in chains and you are not. I’m not exactly sure why you envy me.”
The young girl’s smile grew a little bigger.
The mechanism within the wall began to click while the old woman reached down towards the tray. “No, no, my lady. Save your strength. I’ll get that for you.” The chains snapped back and the old woman relaxed, back pressed against the wall. The girl took a piece of cheese and popped it in the old woman’s mouth. Then she took the cup of water and brought it up to her severely chapped lips, tipping it back slowly. “There you go,” she said, trying to speak over another fit of the woman’s coughing. “I wish I could have brought more for you, but this was all I could scrap up.”
“It’s fine, Brenda. In truth, I don’t think my stomach could handle much more than this. It’s not used to food anymore.”
The young girl began to weep softly. “I wish this nightmare were over. I wish someone would just kill her.”
“Watch what you say,” the old woman whispered with a harsh edge to it. She looked out into the dark hall, half expecting someone to barge in at any moment. “The walls have ears. You know that as well as I do. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She looked around again, cautiously. “Your visits are about the only thing that keeps me sane these days.”
The girl nodded silently. There came a loud bang from upstairs, startling both of them. “I have to go,” the girl said, suddenly a bit shaken. “I’ll leave the tray here.”
“No, take it with you, as well as the water. Now go. I’ll see you again soon enough.” The girl nodded again before scooping up the tray and scurrying from the cell. The old woman watched her go, wishing she could stay for another minute or two. Although nothing had really changed, the room seemed to appear darker. The girl had only been gone a few seconds, but that was all it took for loneliness to creep back into her bones.
* * *
Eric leaned heavily against the wall, his thick, scarred arms folded across his chest. He waited patiently for the others. No doubt his actions would be questioned. It wasn’t their choice to make, he thought. I stand by my decision.
The beaded curtain bloomed inward, clacking loudly as a few lines of beads bounced off the ceiling. Eric didn’t even need to look up to know whose angry entrance that was. “Are you trying to make my heart stop!” barked Jade, racing up to him. Eric almost flinched at her intensity, certain he was about to be slapped senseless. “First you deny my right to protect you, insisting on roaming about the village alone, making yourself an easy target. T
hen, by some miracle, you survive an assassination attempt only to—”
“To have them released,” Wara interrupted, entering the room casually. Her slow entrance had been less aggressive than Jade’s, but she looked just as angry. “It was an outside chance, I admit, but they might have talked had you let Amoshi do his job.”
“I grow tired of your endless excuses to justify murder,” Eric growled, pushing himself off the wall. “Besides, it is me they want. Not you or your village. My choice does not affect you or the other villagers.” Jade’s confused expression proved how little she knew about the tactics being used this morning. It was clear she had not been told the whole story.
“It no longer matters,” came a tired voice from the doorway. Kelus entered, his youthful step now gone. He dragged his feet across the bearskin rug. “The two of them fled the moment they were unburied. They disappeared into the forest like shadows. Our scouts have already lost trace of them.”
“Unburied?” Jade mouthed quietly, her confused expression now changing to one of shock.
Kelus walked up to Eric. He looked old, eyes heavy with fatigue. The little man reached up and jabbed a stiff finger into Eric’s chest. “I know you listen to your heart, Eric. You don’t seem to know any other way.” He jabbed him a few more times for emphasis. “If letting them go was what it told you to do, then it was the right choice. When it seems like the world is against you,” he jabbed his chest one last time, “let this be your guide.”
Eric said nothing, his gaze drifting over the top of Kelus’s head. The others followed his gaze, then froze. They watched in silence. No one had heard him come in. The beads strung in the doorway weren’t even moving. How long had he been there?
The same man, who not so long ago was forced to hold a scorpion in his mouth, drifted smoothly across the room like the trained killer he was. He stopped before Eric, his face covered with cuts and bruises. Eric held the man’s hateful gaze, unblinking. Neither made a move for their blades, neither looked away. Everyone watched in silent awe, not knowing what to do.
