The Bones of the Past (Books of Dust and Bone)

by Craig A. Munro

  “I thank my lord Drokga for the compliment, and for the concern for my well-being. I am ever your servant.”

  The Drokga sneered at him. “Drop the false servility, Carver. You and I both know it’s nothing but an act.” With obvious difficulty, he reined himself in. “I did not summon you here for you to scrape and bow for me, though making you do it does provide me with a sliver of amusement. I called you here to discuss a new project.”

  Carver’s interest was piqued. “A new project, Lord? Of course. What is your wish?”

  “I want you to make something for me. Me personally. I want to walk into battle beside my men and inspire fear in both them and the enemy.”

  “A larger version of the carapace armor, Lord?”

  “Something like that possibly, but I want you to find a way to make it removable. I don’t care how difficult it is. So don’t give me your excuses as to why it won’t work. Being locked away in a suit of chitin is fine for my warriors, but it is not acceptable for me!”

  Carver reluctantly agreed and left to begin his work. The Drokga had a knack for pushing Carver in directions he wouldn’t normally consider. His demands were selfish, but the tyrant’s quick mind and vision never failed to spark new ideas. A truly responsive carapace that was removable? Is that even remotely possible? To avoid the brain, the carapace would need to respond to the movements of the host. Or possibly be controlled by less central nerves. Possibly the Drokga would consent to some small neural modifications and some new orifices for the links . . . concealed with scar tissue, of course; he had enough children so he might not be too concerned with his own reproductive faculties. And Nasaka will stop killing and become a poet.

  Then an idea hit him. It just might be possible. But if he were to make that much of the carapace external, it would be much bulkier. The weight would then be a problem. So maybe this suit should include larger muscle fibers. Hmmm. . . . It would be quite large. Possibly twice the size of a man. But why stop there? Impossible egos demand impossible constructs. I could make it colossal. The host temporarily transformed into a titan! But how to feed such a huge construct? There is no way an unaltered body could sustain it. . . . But maybe if I add in its own stomach. And at least one mouth! That will make it more fearsome and give it more weapons besides. Yes, oh yes, this could be quite good indeed. The new project occupied Carver’s thoughts almost completely while he made his slow way back to his rooms.

  He found the door open. Power surged into him. A variety of spells to inflict death and pain sprang to his mind. Someone has defeated my wards! It was unthinkable. No mage in Tolrahk Esal was his match. None of them would have been able to crack his defenses without him knowing. Then a worse thought occurred to him. If his outer wards had been breached, it was possible that whoever had broken in had made it into his inner rooms. He pushed the door wide, his power coiled into a weave of devastating power ready to destroy the intruder.

  Nasaka sat on a heavy-looking wood chair that he must have brought with him. His long legs were propped up on one of Carver’s worktables. He looked up at Carver with irritated boredom.

  “You’re late, Carver. I’m not used to being kept waiting.”

  A quick look toward his inner rooms was enough for Carver to confirm that his inner wards had not been disturbed. His jaw unclenched a fraction. Mage hunter indeed, he thought, grudgingly impressed.

  Nasaka saw his glance, and a slow smile touched his lips. “Don’t worry, Carver. Whatever sick secrets you keep locked in there are safe from me. I only availed myself of your hospitality, minimal as it is, to pass the time while I waited.” He lowered his feet to the ground and sat up straighter. “I have asked you to perform a service for me, Carver. I do not want to make us enemies.”

  “It would seem your reputation is well earned.” It took great effort for Carver to keep his temper under control. He wanted desperately to torture the man into a broken husk to find out how he had managed to break in. But Nasaka was about to put himself willingly into Carver’s hands. There would be time to slowly make some adjustments to the man’s mind and find out what he wanted to know.

  “Know, Carver, that there is nothing I would not do, nothing I would not risk, for power. I’ve seen what you can do, and I am willing to pay the price for it.”

  “I do not recall demanding payment.”

  “And yet we both know that anything you do for me will not be without cost. Once I put myself in your hands I will be practically defenseless. No doubt you can extract information from me or even bend me to your will in countless ways. The lesson of Maran Vras was not lost on me. I can posture and make threats, or promise revenge by my cadre of apprentices. . . . Such things are beneath us.”

  And yet you voice them anyway.

  “I’m willing to hazard that my value to you as a willing subject and ally in court will outweigh your anger at me coming into your rooms uninvited.”

  “Just how willing are you then, Nasaka? You have seen only a small fraction of what I can do.”

  “Simply put, do with me what you will.” He got to his feet, the motion strangely fluid. “My name is already feared across half the continent. My skills are without equal, and I have access to funds and mages who are only too happy to create whatever tools or enchanted weapons I might desire. My own apprentices whisper my name in fear to each other from their pallets in the dark of night. But it is not enough! I want archmages to quake in fear at the thought of me. I want the terror my name inspires to reverberate through the ages and never be forgotten!”

  Carver watched him for a time through the veil of his own greasy hair.

  “I believe we can work together then, Nasaka. If you do not fear risks or balk at consequences, I can indeed do many things to your flesh to make you more formidable. You understand, though, that the most basic price you will have to pay is the loss of your ability to sire children?”

  Nasaka shrugged. “I have half a hundred already, some of them with enough promise to train as apprentices. I do not need more. I intend for my deeds to be my legacy, not the mewlings of children.”

  “Well then, Nasaka. Let me reset the wards on the door. There is no better time to begin than now.”

  “What is it you can do for me then?”

  Carver gestured for the mage hunter to follow him into the next workroom.

  “The possibilities are endless, Nasaka. Take this subject, for example. I have modified the structure of his nerves to improve his reaction speed as well as his ability to learn.” He gestured to the slave who jumped to his feet and started to perform an intricate series of practice moves with a wooden sword. Without warning, Nasaka lunged past Carver and buried a dagger in the slave’s eye. Carver looked at him in shock.

  “Can’t say I’m impressed so far.” Nasaka pulled his dagger out and let the slave’s body collapse. Days of work wasted. A promising specimen and willing servant killed. Carver’s temper snapped. His body exploded into a mass of tentacles and grasping limbs that reached for Nasaka. The mage hunter vaulted over the grasping appendages and swept his dagger through several tentacles as he passed over them.

  But the thing that was Carver was changing at a horrific rate. Nasaka was neatly plucked out of the air before he could gain his feet and smashed into the wall. Shelves and jars were crushed as the man collided with them. Carver lifted the battered man again, but Nasaka struck back. The palm of his left hand came down on one of Carver’s limbs. The blow felt like a shard of ice cutting through Carver’s soul. He howled wordlessly and flung Nasaka away from him. The mage hunter hit the far wall hard enough to send plaster raining down from the ceiling. Nasaka pulled himself to his feet slowly, his eyes following Carver’s every movement. He was covered in small cuts, the left side of his face was swelling quickly, and his left leg was badly broken, a shard of bone protruding from his calf. Carver slowly returned to his normal crippled form, and the two men looked at each other with newfound respect.

  Nasaka spit out a mouthful of phlegm an
d blood. “I have to admit I hadn’t counted on such efficacy from a twisted old mage.”

  Carver shrugged. “A body is nothing more than a tool. I too am surprised by your abilities, Nasaka. Your blow hurt me in a way I have never felt before. That you were able to cause me pain at all has reawakened my curiosity. That you survived what I just did to you . . . increases my interest.”

  Nasaka nodded. “Then we have an understanding. I will show your work greater respect in the future.”

  Carver returned the nod. “My slaves and I will be busy this evening cleaning up the workshop. Return tomorrow night, Nasaka Jadoo, and we will begin our work.” Carver smiled. It was satisfying to be the one to send a limping wreck of a man to walk across the palace for a change. While directing his slaves to repair the damage the brief confrontation had caused, Carver noticed something amiss with one of his pets.

  “Roga! What is the meaning of this? My serpent eats live food, not eggs!”

  “I beg your forgiveness, Master. They are not food. I watched the snake lay the eggs itself not two hours ago.”

  “Do you take me for a fool, worm? She has never been bred. You will suffer for your mistake and doubly so for lying to me!” Roga backed away from his master until he bumped into the wall with a start. His eyes were brimming with tears.

  “I swear, my lord! I would never lie. Not to you, sir!” Then he dissolved into a weeping mess on the floor. Carver looked down at him distastefully. His power engulfed Roga, and a moment later the weeping changed to piercing screams as long bony spines grew from inside Roga’s body, shredding his skin. Carver turned away from his assistant and moved back to inspect his favorite snake. He reached out with his magic to look over the animal and check for any signs of mistreatment. There were none. His pet was extremely well cared for.

  On a whim he turned his senses to the eggs. A momentary glance turned into a detailed magical inspection. Slowly he turned back to the serpent.

  “What secrets are you hiding, my pet?”

  An hour later he had his answer. The great snake had the ability to breed itself when deprived of the company of its own kind for too long, all without losing the ability for sexual reproduction in the future.

  “Fascinating.” Carver chuckled softly. “Life is really a wondrous thing, is it not, Roga? Even after all these years I never would have imagined this was possible.” Only then did he seem to hear Roga’s continuing whimpers. He moved back to his assistant, who was lying in a slowly spreading puddle of blood. “It seems I was hasty in punishing you, Roga. You were honest with me, and even had the foresight not to dispose of the eggs. Those are rare traits that I value highly in my assistants.” Roga gave no indication that he had heard Carver speak.

  “We will put our new knowledge to good use. But first, I do believe I should undo your punishment, and a reward may even be in order.” The spines melted back into Roga’s body. His skin closed up over the wounds, and he sprang back to his feet, pulled by Carver’s magic. Roga looked down at his blood-soaked clothes, an expression of mixed relief and confusion on his face.

  “There you are, my loyal servant. The damage has been reversed. Now for your reward. . . .” The look of fear reappeared on Roga’s face a moment before his body started to spasm and his screams started anew.

  It took Salt the better part of the day to make his way down the dark staircase. He stumbled often and had to sit and rest. Damned Dreth. If I have to come back here, I’m damned well bringing my own lamp. The city was dark when he emerged hungry, thirsty, and bone weary. Few if any lights showed in any of the buildings. His escort of Fire Warriors was still waiting at the entrance of the tower as if they hadn’t moved. Maybe they haven’t. The thought was disturbing. Salt was too tired to even attempt to talk to the closemouthed Warriors. He let them guide him back to his room. Dignity barely kept him on his feet for the entire walk. There was no word for the relief he felt when he finally pushed the door open to his room and stumbled inside. He poured himself a generous cup of wine and dropped down on the bed with a sigh. Sleep came quickly but was interrupted by a sharp pain in his side.

  Salt woke up with a start. He’d left three lamps burning when he went to sleep, beyond sick of the dark for one day. But when he opened his eyes, the room was pitch-black. He also noticed a strong smell that made him think of both flowers and something rotten. He fumbled around in the dark until he got a lamp lit. His eyes went wide when he saw what was standing in front of him—a shambling mass of flesh, lumpy and twisted like no living thing should be, wrapped in what looked like a very expensive silk dress.

  “You look surprised to see me, lover.”

  Salt was stunned. There was no mistaking her voice. It was her. The filthy bug-ridden priestess who had tried to eat him almost a year earlier. He forced his voice to a semblance of control, not willing to let her have the satisfaction of having rattled him.

  “I did kind of think Gurt and Lera had burned you to shit. . . . But I guess that was just wishful thinking.”

  The priestess ignored his last comment. “Oh, they burned most of me. They cost me a lot, and it’s taken me all this time to pull myself back into a human form. I won’t be snaring new prey quite so easily now. . . . Still, it was lucky for me they didn’t check you too closely.”

  Salt’s mind raced, trying to think of a way out of his situation. I’m not tied down this time, bitch, and I’ve learned a thing or two since we last met.

  “One blood mite dug into the cut on your chest. . . . That’s all that was left of me. You could have ended my existence by squashing me with your finger. It was a stretch even for me to pull myself back together after that.” Salt couldn’t help but look down at his chest. The scar she’d given him that night stood out clearly. He rubbed it as if it were dirty.

  “It was difficult to escape from your body and find a safe place to recover my strength. I’ve been living in the sewers below your palace for months regrowing my body. She Who Feeds was generous and gifted me with thousands of her children to meld into my own flesh.”

  “Do you like the new me?” She posed for him as if she were a young beauty still and not a half-rotted monstrosity. Salt’s stomach heaved.

  “Now, my dear Salt, I believe we have some unfinished business, don’t you?”

  I need to keep her talking, he thought desperately. “You’re right, I almost didn’t recognize you. But then I really didn’t ever expect to see you again. I’m surprised you managed to find me all the way out here.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t so hard. I always know where you are, my lover. I chose you for my mate and you gave yourself to me willingly. She Who Feeds sanctified our union. There is nowhere in all the worlds you could go that I would not be able to find you. I must admit, I am surprised by how far you’ve come since last we met. No longer a simple sailor, are you? That is why I chose you. I saw the potential in you before you could even dream it was there yourself.” She smiled down at him, the smile twisting her already misshapen face into something horrific.

  “I’ve done well, I guess,” Salt agreed. “And in a strange way, maybe I owe that success to you. . . .” Then he smiled back at her. “Or maybe I owe it more to the crusty old bastard who was stomping on you that night.” Her smile was gone.

  “Do not mock me, meat sack! You are mine, body and soul, to do with as I please! I can make my meal last a long time. I can savor the taste of your pain as I slowly eat you over the course of months.” As she talked, Salt slowly moved his hand toward his sword. Her eyes widened as she noticed, and her grin returned.

  “Do you really think you can hurt me with your puny sword? You’ve seen me hit with a bolt, shattered with sorcery, crushed, and burned. And yet here I stand. Could you really be so foolish? Perhaps I missed a mind flaw when I looked you over at our first meeting.” Virulent green energy played around her gnarled fingers as she spoke.

  “You will sire a clutch for me before I consume you, but you don’t need your limbs or even most of your face to
do it.”

  Salt jumped to his feet, sweeping his blade after him. The priestess’s condescending look changed to surprise as the sword swept the bedclothes up and flicked them over her head. During the brief moment she was distracted, he grabbed the lamp from next to his bed and threw it at her feet before throwing his sword through the window and jumping out after it. He saw flames engulf her as he crashed through the remaining glass. Salt hit the ground like a sack of bricks, only narrowly avoiding falling on his own sword. A blast of energy blew out the side of the inn where his room used to be. He groaned, more hurt by the fall than he had expected. His head was spinning with pain and shock, his left leg was badly hurt, possibly broken, and all he could think of was—Shit, now I made her mad. Salt crawled as close to the inn’s wall as he could, trying to keep in cover.

  “You can’t escape me, Salt!” the priestess shrieked.

  Magic pounded down against the cobblestone street. The stones dissolved where the priestess’s spell struck them, leaving a fetid bubbling mess in ragged slashes across the street. Somewhere in the distance a bell rang and was answered by another fainter one, then another. An idea struck Salt. If what Nok Dreth said was true, this place was built to fight off dragons.

  “Okay! Okay, I’ll do whatever you want! Just stop, please!”

  A billowing mass of insects and crawling things swarmed out of the broken wall and down to the street in front of Salt. He couldn’t see how it happened, but the mass of wriggling bugs contracted and suddenly the twisted woman was standing in front of him again, a wicked grin on her face.

  “It was foolish of you to come to this place, Salt. Your friends are far away, and I sense no magic at all in this place, no priests, no mages, no one to save you. I’m surprised I never came here before, such a ripe city waiting to be devoured—”

  A beam of shockingly bright green fire slashed down from atop one of the city walls. Faster than a lightning strike, it hit the priestess full in the back. Salt saw the look of agony on her face the moment before she shifted back into her swarm shape. But the Dreth fire would not be denied. Each and every insect seemed to carry a spark of the green fire within it. The cloud burst into flame and crumbled to black ash. The flames spread through them all as if hungry, then winked out. Salt blinked repeatedly to clear his eyesight. The glowing wreckage of the front of the inn gave him enough light to see the scattered husks of burnt bugs scattered around the street.