Pages of Pain p-1

by Troy Denning

  "Only you can determine the answer to that."

  "Why don't you help me?" Theseus's voice was more bitter than challenging. "You can read minds."

  "Even I cannot read what is not there. You have forgotten what it is you seek." Karfhud raised his muzzle, as though sniffing the air, then motioned the Thrasson closer. "Let me see your sword. I have something that will keep Sheba's fur from stealing it out of your hands."

  Remembering how the tanar'ri had used his own blood to clean the monster's black sap off the blade earlier, Theseus waded to Karfhud's side. He did not yield the weapon, however, but simply raised it high enough so the fiend could swab the steel.

  Karfhud clucked at the Thrasson's suspicions, but made no other complaint. He switched his map to his free hand, then ran his slashed wrist up and down the flat of the blade, smearing a thick coat of black, acrid-smelling blood over both sides.

  "Dip the blade into the water now and then to slow the drying," the fiend advised. "But even so, it will not last long. Tell me if it begins to crust before Sheba attacks."

  "Then she is close?"

  Karfhud stared past Silverwind into the thickening mists. "She has never been far. But she has grown quiet."

  Theseus cocked his brow, for the fiend was right. The monster had not bellowed, or even made any splashing sounds, since they had entered this narrow passage. He started to mention this, but Karfhud abruptly turned away and started down the passage, no longer bothering to trace its course on his parchment. Clearly, he expected Sheba's attack soon.

  Karfhud lowered his hand and quietly waved Theseus up. "But perhaps I can be of some help to you, Thrasson. Knowing what the others seek may help you discover what you must find."

  Theseus waded to the fiend's side. "I am listening." It was a half-truth; he was much more intent on searching the fog ahead, but he saw the wisdom in carrying on as they had been. A sudden silence would alert the monster to their vigilance, and he was anxious to have the battle done before the company grew even more weary than it was now. "Still, I fail to see how an exit can serve one person and not another."

  "The Plurality." Karfhud answered. "Is it not a law of the multiverse that there are a thousand meanings for every fact?"

  "No!" The answer came from the rear of the line, where Silverwind had apparently been paying more attention than Theseus realized. "That is not the way I imagined it, not at all! What you're talking about would be chaos-"

  "Precisely. Chaos!" Karfhud stopped and turned around, rolling up his new map as he spoke. "That is the way of the multiverse! No one is right, and everyone is right."

  Tessali groaned. "A Xaositect." The elf peered over Silverwind's shoulder at Theseus, then added, "I should have known better than to trust you to pick a guide."

  "Keep your watch!" Theseus pointed his sword at the elf. "This is no time to get into an argument about-"

  Karfhud's talons pinched the Thrasson's shoulder. "Did you not ask for my help, Theseus?"

  "Yes, but…"

  "Then listen – and learn." Karfhud slipped past Jayk and went to Silverwind, who stood his ground and looked the fiend squarely in the eye. "Are you not the imaginer of the mazes?"

  The bariaur nodded. "I am the imaginer of all things."

  The haze had thickened to the point where the Thrasson could barely make out their two looming shapes. The bog trees flanking the channel were little more than dark, hulking shadows, and it was no longer possible to tell the surface of the water from the fog floating upon it. Karfhud's arm snaked back to stuff his map into his satchel, and Theseus thought he understood why the fiend had picked that moment to start a debate with Silverwind.

  Sheba was coming up from the rear.

  Karfhud continued to speak with the bariaur. "You made the mazes, and yet you cannot find a way out?"

  Silverwind shook his head. "No. I am as lost as you."

  Theseus slipped by Jayk, gently nudging her and fluttering his fingers in the semblance of a spellcasting. She grabbed his arm and refused to let him pass. He scowled, then pried his arm loose and waved his fingers again. The tiefling bit her lip, but reluctantly nodded and plunged her hands into the water to retrieve the necessary ingredients. The Thrasson continued toward the others.

  Karfhud was continuing to debate Silverwind, as though the differences in their particular creeds were more important than any monster stalking the party. "You are the imaginer of the mazes, yet you are lost in them," the fiend was saying. "So, your search for an exit is really a search for the inner truth of your own being, is it not?"

  Silverwind's eyes lit up. "Why-why, yes it is!" The bariaur suddenly looked half a century younger, but it did not escape Theseus's notice that a pair of the old fellow's pods had stopped throbbing and grown quite firm, like melons about to burst. "I have been looking at this all wrong – I'm not trapped in the mazes at all!"

  Karfhud nodded gravely. "Then you are looking for-"

  "The reality of my own being!"

  So excited was Silverwind that he kicked his heels up, dumping Tessali into the water. Theseus eased his way close to the bariaur's flank and, doing his best to keep an unobtrusive watch down the channel, reached for the elf.

  Tessali came up sputtering and glaring at Karfhud. "The barmies in my ward speak better sense than that!"

  "No doubt," Karfhud agreed. "In your wisdom, you have already discovered the essential meaning of the multiverse, have you not-that it has no meaning?"

  This seemed to calm Tessali, if not Theseus. The argument was just the distraction the monster had been waiting for.

  "Try not to be so overwrought, Theseus," said the fiend. "Sometimes, the only thing we can do is be patient."

  Karfhud cast a cautionary glance at the Thrasson, then looked back to Tessali, who, now that his wisdom had been acknowledged, seemed to regard the tanar'ri with newfound respect.

  "Tessali," the fiend continued, "I can see that you are one of those rare elves who has a true understanding of himself – and I have read enough thoughts to know. Let us describe life as a maze, and your salvation as the exit; I am sure you can tell me what you are searching for."

  "Certainly." Tessali's gaze grew uneasy and shifted away from Karfhud. "But I don't see what this has to do with the plurality of the multiverse."

  Karfhud's voice grew stem. "I am not explaining chaos; I am honoring my oath to the Thrasson. Given your trade, I should think you would want to help."

  The tanar'ri was acting more like a celestial seraphim than an Abyssal fiend, and that made Theseus's spine creep.

  Karfhud's puffy lips began to twitch – no doubt with the effort of not smirking at the Thrasson's absurd thought – but the fiend kept his attention fixed firmly on Tessali.

  "Well, elf? Will you help this man or not?"

  "That won't be needed," Theseus interjected. "Whatever Karfhud is playing at, it can only lead to harm."

  "No, he's right," said Tessali. "I should know myself well enough to answer his question."

  Tessali fell deep into thought, leaving it to Theseus alone to watch for Sheba. Karfhud's maroon eyes remained fixed on the elf, as though he had completely forgotten about the monster. Silverwind was mumbling to himself about essential realities and knowing his own mind, and Jayk was off hiding in the fog somewhere. A disturbing thought occurred to the Thrasson, and he slowly turned in a circle, searching the channel's haze-shrouded surface for the dark silhouette of the tiefling's head and shoulders. He saw nothing but gray.

  Theseus was about to call her name when Tessali looked up, raising the stumps at the ends of his arms. "For too long have I let my hands dictate the meaning of my life!" His eyes were flashing with excitement, and, as with Silverwind, one of the husks hanging from his body had stopped throbbing and looked ready to burst. "But there is no meaning outside ourselves! My healing hands have only been distracting me; without them I am free to look inward."

  "Then you are better off without your hands than we are without Jayk," Theseu
s said. He dipped his sword into the water to wet Karfhud's blood, then called, "Jayk?"

  "The tiefling knows how to find her exit," Karfhud said. "She has always known, but she doesn't want to leave yet." Theseus whirled on the fiend. "What are you saying?" "I think you know." Karfhud's eyes glimmered crimson. "What is it she's always saying? 'Life is an illusion'?"

  As badly as he wished that he did not, the Thrasson understood Karfhud's meaning. As a Dustman, Jayk sought the path to the One Death.

  "Yes." Karfhud was smiling now. "But she is afraid to reach the end, because she knows you won't go with her."

  "Where is she?" Theseus glared into the fog. "If you've let anything happen to her-"

  "Me?" scoffed Karfhud. "You are the one who turned his back on her."

  Theseus pushed past the tanar'ri. "Jayk!"

  "She will not answer. The monster is too close upon her."

  Theseus rushed into the fog, pushing through the waters and making a great splashing – loud, but not so loud that it drowned out Karfhud's wheezy snickering. The Thrasson's chest tightened with anger, though less at the fiend than at himself for allowing Jayk and the others to come with him into Sheba's lair. It was one thing to strike bargains with tanar'ri on his own behalf, and quite another to drag his friends into the quagmire with him.

  When he did not find the tiefling within a dozen steps, Theseus stopped to study the area. Although the channel was no more than four arm-spans wide, he could barely see the tangled banks; they were little more than a slight darkening in the fog. Behind him, the pearly haze had swallowed Karfhud and the others entirely. It was as if he had passed through a conjunction and entered a different maze.

  "Jayk?"

  His answer came from the channel behind him, in the form of a startled shout that instantly intensified to a shriek of anguish. Before Theseus could identify the voice, a deafening bellow crashed through the fog, drowning out the scream and driving spikes of pain through his eardrums. He whirled around and splashed down the passage, cursing Karfhud's treachery in not telling him from which direction the monster was approaching.

  By the time the ringing in Theseus's ears began to die down, he could see the fiend's black, blurry silhouette in the center of the passage. The tanar'ri was writhing about madly, his claws flinging snarled tangles of fur through the haze, his wings beating the water into a silver froth. The Thrasson angled toward the bank so he would enter the fray on the monster's flank. Even after moving past the flailing black wall of Karfhud's wings, he had trouble finding Sheba herself. So closely did her color match the pearly fog that, save for the snarl of flailing arms and hooves tucked under her far arm, Theseus would not have seen the beast at all.

  Was Karfhud fighting to save Silverwind? It could not be possible.

  A sharp crackle hissed up the channel. A brilliant flash lit the fog behind the monster, creating a spectacular halo around her shaggy figure. A spray of smoking fur and black drops empted from behind her shoulder. Sheba suddenly lurched forward, her face and chest slapping the water like the flat of a paddle. Karfhud leapt on her, tearing into the wound with both claws and burying his fangs deep into her collarbone.

  Theseus brushed past Tessali, who was standing helpless and gape-mouthed several paces shy of the battle, and waded into a churning cloud of smoke that stank of scorched fur and rotten, charred meat. The Thrasson saw Silverwind's face and arms bob above the water, only to disappear an instant later as Karfhud pushed the monster's head beneath the surface. Jayk was nowhere to be seen; she was somewhere behind the monster, no doubt preparing more magic.

  Theseus hoped the spell would not strike him by mistake. There was nothing but three paces of water between him and a clear strike at Sheba's head. He raised his sword, already imagining the gurgling pop it would cause as the blade cleaved the monster's neck.

  Silverwind suddenly came out of the water, still tucked beneath Sheba's arm. The monster's head came up next, spewing a huge piece of Karfhud's wing from her mouth. Though Theseus was only two steps away, the monster did not even seem to see him as she spun half away. There was a sharp crackle, then her shoulder, now caught in the clutches of Karfhud's hands and teeth, slipped from its joint. Sheba threw her head back and loosed another deafening bellow, this one all the more terrifying because of the anguish in her voice.

  Theseus sidestepped to avoid hitting Karfhud-he would not have bothered, save that experience had taught him that his sword would slip from his grasp-then pushed forward, drawing that star-forged blade down across the frost of Sheba's shoulder. The steel, still black with Karfhud's blood, sliced through the monster's hide and thick gristle as though it were mere silk.

  Sheba's bellow did not resound in Theseus's ears so much as pummel them. Everything went black, and something cool and wet splattered his face. The Thrasson ducked instinctively, but no crushing counterattack came. When his vision cleared, he saw the monster's arm floating in the water, with Karfhud, also stunned by tile bellow, still clinging to it

  Sheba was a blurry gray shape retreating through the fog. Theseus drove forward after her, his eyes fixed on the black circle of sap oozing from her cleaved shoulder. Beneath her good arm, Silverwind's struggles were growing more feeble by the second – though, thankfully, the bariaur was trailing no red drops to match the black string of blood beads that the monster left bobbing on the channel surface.

  To Theseus's surprise, the wall of bog trees ahead of his quany seemed to be growing darker and more distinct with each step. Already, he could make out the shapes of individual limbs and, lower down, the web of tangle roots. The Thrasson hoped Sheba was heading for some hidden passage he could not yet see; if she climbed over the wall, he would have to choose between abandoning Silverwind or jumping into an unknown maze with no guarantee that Karfhud-or even Jayk-would follow.

  Theseus's concerns changed when he heard the tiefling's frightened voice stuttering out an incantation. Sheba was not fleeing, he realized; she was only covering her flank.

  The monster let out another bellow, then stopped before a snarl of vine-draped bog trees. Theseus pushed through the water as fast as he could, tempted to try swimming but knowing that, with his sword in hand, it would probably be even slower than wading. Jayk finished her spell. There was a sharp crackle, then a long spray of matted fur and black, sticky blood shot from Sheba's side to splash into the channel. She did not fall.

  The monster raised one leg out of the water, then leaned slightly away from the bank, preparing to deliver a stomp kick. Theseus considered throwing his sword, but that was a desperation move, to be attempted only as a last resort, and only when the blow would be a killing one. If the monster could be killed at all, he knew a single strike would not do it. Besides, only two more steps…

  Sheba lowered her foot, smashing through a tangle of prop roots. From somewhere distant, somewhere beyond the Thrasson's ringing ears, came a single, strangled cry – then he was on the monster. Theseus swung, burying his sword deep where a human's kidney would be. In the same motion, he drew the blade free and reversed his attack, striking upward into her ribs, trying to reach her lungs.

  As Theseus wrenched his steel free to try for a third strike, Sheba spun, smashing Silverwind's rear quarters into his shoulder pauldron. The Thrasson's god-forged bronze absorbed the worst of the blow, but the impact still knocked him off his feet and sent him sinking toward the channel bottom. His first and only thought was of his sword. He still felt the hilt in his hand, and he concentrated on nothing except making certain it stayed there. No matter what else happened, he would be lost without his weapon.

  When Theseus settled into the mud an instant later, the entire side of his body ached. His head throbbed, his chest was convulsing, and his lungs were burning for air-but the sword remained in his hand. He gathered his legs beneath him and pushed off the bottom, shoving his head above water.

  Directly ahead of him lay a broken tangle of prop-roots, a hole the size of a man's chest smashed through the cent
er. A small, shadowy hand had risen out of the great jumble to clutch at a low hanging vine, and a red slick was already spreading out into the channel. Still coughing up water, Theseus rushed over.

  Jayk lay deep inside the snarl, her head propped against the bank and her shattered body half-submerged. The silvery water was smeared with green and red ichor from burst pods. Down near her hip, a single red husk was still bobbing just beneath the surface. The tiefling was bleeding from her nose, mouth, and half a dozen holes where broken ribs had pushed through her torso. Her pupils were narrow and shaped like diamonds, and the tips of her long fangs were dribbling blood onto her chin.

  "Zoo… bee."

  She released the vine and reached for Theseus, then slipped a little farther into the water. The Thrasson tried to make the stretch, but the tangle was too deep, and he did not want to crawl inside for fear of jostling her. He quickly used his sword to cut an opening into the snarl, then started to ease inside.

  A huge taloned hand caught him by the shoulder. "Leave her," said Karfhud. "The tiefling has found what she seeks. You have not."

  Theseus tried to pull free, but Karfhud held him tight.

  "Tessali will stay with her," said the fiend. "We have a monster to track."

  "Look at her!" Theseus hissed. "This won't take long."

  "It would take longer than you know, Thrasson."

  Karfhud forcibly pulled him back, then pointed at the string of black blood beads bobbing in the water. One of the globules sank as they watched.

  "Besides, her blood trail will not last long," the fiend said. "Even if you do not care to save Silverwind, there is still your amphora to consider."

  "Zoombee, you… stay with me… no?"

  "No, Jayk… I can't."

  When Theseus turned away, he did not see that last red husk burst. He felt it. Isle Of Despair

  Down the twining canals they push, the Thrasson and the fiend, down the purling alleys between leafy walls looming dark and nebulous in the fog, down the meandering silver ribbons where sticky strings of black beads lie bobbing upon the waters. Thick in the air hangs the monster's stench: the acrid reek of her dark blood and the musty fetor of her matted fur. All around, the white haze sizzles with her quick, shallow breath. They see her flight in the arrow of ripples spreading across the channel; her fear, they taste in the sour bile of their own growing thirst. The Thrasson's zeal pounds heavy and hard inside his skull; they will run the monster down and save Silverwind – if Silverwind can be saved – but what of Jayk? Her heart has stilled, her blood has grown purple and settled into her haunches, all her Pains have passed.