The Witch's City

by M. Gregg Roe

  “Why not say ‘bad’ instead of ‘not good’?” asked Audrey.

  “I think it’s just a habit with him. He certainly knows what ‘bad’ means. Or maybe it’s a decades-long running joke. I don’t know. I don’t really care. I’m used to it. We’re all used to it.”

  By the time the sun was setting, Audrey was told that they had covered nearly thirty miles. The indicator was now pointing just a little south of east. They slowed down somewhat but the ship continued on despite the darkness, making use of the ample moonlight.

  “So we’re going to be fighting creatures made of metal,” she said to Saxloc as he climbed into the top bunk of their small cabin.

  “Constructs,” he replied.

  “Which are … ?”

  “Things constructed of some type of material and then animated using magic. They can be made from a variety of things—metal, wood, clay, even flesh.”

  “Flesh? Yuck! This may come as a surprise, but I am not looking forward to kicking and punching creatures made of metal.”

  “A sword probably isn’t the best weapon to use either. A mace or large hammer would probably be better. I’d stick with using your staff if I were you.”

  “Actually, I think I’ll just leave the fighting to you and the others.”

  With so many people going along, she could just stand back and watch.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Hagen was glad to see that Audrey took her role as their guide so seriously. At her insistence, Saxloc was carrying her quarterstaff so that she could hold the tracker with both her hands. She kept them on their generally northward course through the heavily-wooded hills, not complaining when told that they needed to detour around something. Because of the terrain, a straight course was simply out of the question. Even so, they were making good time.

  He was confident that they would find Petra now and rescue her. The nine of them represented a powerful force, and this time they were all fully armed and armored. Branwyn and Siljan were both clerics, and Saxloc could also cast healing magic. His only real concern was that the tracker might stop working if Petra were to die. No one had thought to ask Oljot about it before they departed.

  The ship had slowed during the night, but not stopped. Toward dawn, the tracker began to point more to the north. By the time the sun had risen, the ship had stopped and weighed anchor, with the tracker pointing due north. After a quick breakfast, the crew ferried the nine of them to the shore using two small rowboats.

  Hagen walked along to Audrey’s right, with Saxloc to her left. Danj was in front with Milric and Branwyn flanking him. The other three followed behind, being much quieter than Hagen had expected. Normally, Hankin and Siljan would be talking. Or arguing.

  “Stop.”

  It was Audrey’s command and he obeyed along with the others. Audrey pivoted around so that she was looking directly at the tracker’s red stripe. He glanced around and saw that some of the others were staring at her while others kept watch.

  “I thought so,” she said. “I can see movement. Petra’s going east or maybe south. We must be getting close.”

  There was the sound of many swords being pulled from their scabbards, including Hagen’s own longsword.

  “There’s something ahead.” This time it was Milric’s flat voice. “Large. Maybe a giant.”

  They had been expecting constructs, but giants were common in the area, particularly the type known as hill giants. Hagen found himself wishing that Medea was with them. Slaying giants was her specialty. She even had a sword that had been crafted especially for that purpose.

  “Audrey, you’re with me,” called out Branwyn.

  Saxloc and Audrey joined Branwyn as she headed off to the right with a look of determination. Hankin cast a spell and then flew over to them. Siljan looked briefly uncertain before walking toward her father and Milric. Gabriel followed her, and Hagen decided to join them. He would probably just slow down Branwyn and the others. The travel so far that morning was already making him feel tired. He really was getting too old for this kind of thing.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Siljan had just finished casting a spell to make her father stronger when she was startled by a feeling of divine benevolence. It was something she had been considering herself, but Branwyn had beaten her to it, casting a spell that called on her deity Arwon to bless their efforts in battle. Siljan was grateful, not only for the blessing but that she could save her own magical energy. She had a bad feeling that she was going to be casting a lot of healing spells. She said a quick (non-magical) prayer to Kyran. It couldn’t hurt.

  She really thought it would have been smarter for Branwyn to stay with Milric, Danj, and Hagen, while the five of them looked for Petra. After all, they were used to working as a team. But Branwyn had left her no choice but to remain, and Siljan wasn’t really surprised. Branwyn had been taking care of Petra and felt personally responsible. She would rescue Petra or die trying. But it did worry her that no strong fighter had gone with them. Gabriel seemed to have taken it upon himself to protect her, which was typical of him.

  Siljan hung back and watched as the four fighters surrounded the hill giant. Milric took a blow from its huge spiked club on his shield and looked briefly dazed, but that was all the giant managed to accomplish before being hacked to death. That was encouraging, but she could already see more trouble coming. A construct, with one arm ending in a hammer and the other in a nasty-looking pincer, was heading straight toward her, or as straight as it could manage in the thick woods. Shouts indicated another one off to her left, and there was the noise of something very large smashing through trees coming from directly ahead.

  Gabriel and her father ran up and saved her from having to confront the thing by herself. Siljan decided to engage it with her shortsword to save her magic. She was a spirit magic specialist, but constructs had no minds to be affected. And her fire magic probably wouldn’t do more than heat them up slightly. The good news was that the metal it was made of wasn’t that thick. It also looked old, with numerous dents and rusty areas. Its attacks were powerful, but fairly easy to anticipate and dodge. It was soon badly dented all over. Seconds later, a blow delivered by Gabriel to what passed for its head finished it off and it collapsed into a pile of assorted metal pieces, the enchantment broken.

  The other construct had also been defeated, but Siljan could now see enough of the much larger creature approaching to feel apprehensive. It was metal and humanoid-shaped, other than not having a head. Despite that, it was as tall as the giant had been. Its legs had two joints instead of one and were thick. The arms were long and ended in huge flails, each consisting of three large metal balls on heavy chains. Siljan quickly cast Spirit Hammer, a spell that should be able to damage it, and which she could use from a safe distance. But the glowing hammer simply vanished when it struck the thing’s body. It was invulnerable to magic and she didn’t dare get near it. The best she could do would be to use her magic to heal injuries and restore vitality.

  Siljan watched with anxiety as the three older men moved to engage the huge construct. Gabriel stayed back and she soon saw why. There was another giant approaching from her left with two more hammer-armed constructs behind it. The fight had just begun.

  48

  ‡ Metal ‡

  Petra desperately struggled to find something to hold on to. The floor was shaking. The walls were vibrating. The room reverberated with a deep humming noise that hammered into her aching skull. A sharp metallic tang filled the air, irritating her sinuses. It was too dark to see anything, but she seemed to be in an all-metal room. Her wrists and ankles were both manacled, connected to each other by short lengths of chain. Her entire body felt bruised. She began to whimper but was so dehydrated that tears wouldn’t come.

  What happened? she wondered. Why am I being tortured? Where am I?

  Her memory, normally so reliable, seemed hazy, fragmented. She had been forced to drink something, perhaps a drug? The location was unclear, but she had gotten a
glimpse of Valwyn and Hanna. In her last clear memory, she had been talking with her friends in the sitting room at Tilda’s house. A man suddenly appeared in front of them and gestured. And then nothing.

  Kidnapped, she thought. We were all kidnapped. But why? And are Hanna and Valwyn in metal rooms too?

  There was a loud noise and Petra gasped and desperately tried to grab onto the floor. It felt like she was falling. A loud thump was followed by the brief sensation of the floor pressing against her, as though she had become heavy. She had a sudden insight. We’re flying! And it must be windy. That was a wind gust!

  Understanding what was happening made her feel more confident. The pain in her head was finally beginning to recede, so she slowly crawled around the room in which she was imprisoned. She had to do everything by touch because it was so dark that even her light-sensitive eyes could see nothing. The walls were of smooth metal but the floor was covered by a regular pattern of slightly raised circular bumps about an inch across. They’re for traction, she realized. She cautiously stood up while continuing to lean against the wall. Her leather shoes provided ample grip as she began to walk around the perimeter of the room, her step size limited by the ankle manacles. It was square, measuring only about three yards across. She raised her arms as high as she could, wincing at the pain in her shoulders that caused, but she couldn’t reach the ceiling. She had felt two thin vertical depressions over a yard apart on one wall that she was certain was the door that allowed access to the room. There were no hinges or handles of any kind, and it had felt very solid when she pushed on it.

  Another loud thump was followed by a brief falling sensation. Petra lowered herself to the floor and crawled into a corner. She pulled her knees to her chest and used her hands to feel the manacles that bound her ankles. They were slightly loose and had abraded her skin somewhat. Each anklet had a hinge with a lock opposite, and the two were connected by about eight inches of heavy chain. The ones on her wrists were similar, although not as thick and heavy.

  I can move things without touching them, she thought. Can I move things that I can’t see? Can I move the pieces of metal inside the lock? She placed her hands near the manacle on her right ankle and concentrated on moving the entire manacle. It moved upward and then fell back down when she released it. She tried to force the manacle to open, but nothing happened. She just didn’t have the strength. Unlocking it was her only hope.

  Placing a finger above the keyhole in the manacle, she tried to probe what was inside. The effort was tiring, and it was a long while before she actually felt something move. The ever-present hum was too loud to hear anything, but she had felt it move in her mind. It was an odd sensation. She tried to open the manacle with her hands, but it was still locked. The mental effort so exhausted her that she laid down on her side and tried to rest.

  Tired as she was, Petra couldn’t sleep. The floor was uncomfortable and cold, and there continued to be violent jolts from time to time. The humming abruptly changed tone and she felt the sensation of falling again, but now it was constant. We’re descending. We’re going to land. Or crash. She backed herself into a corner and tried to brace herself.

  She estimated that the descent continued for a quarter of an hour before she heard what sounded like wood splintering and there was a hard jolt that threw her into the center of the room, scraping her knees and forearms as she tried to catch herself. The humming vanished and she winced as the ceiling began to glow with harsh white light. The ceiling was as high as the box was wide, and she could see that the door went nearly that high. There were a series of small square holes high up on the wall on all sides except the wall opposite the door. She decided that they were probably for ventilation.

  Petra stood up and looked down at herself. She could see bruises and scrapes on her arms and lower legs. Her light green cotton dress was wrinkled and dirty. The manacles were made of iron and looked both new and sturdy.

  She heard noises from the direction of the door—scraping and thudding. The door began to open outward and to the right with a reluctant, screeching sound. Feeling deeply afraid, Petra retreated against the far wall. A man entered the room, and she could see a huge, hulking creature that seemed to be made of metal behind him. The arm she could see ended in a large metal pincer. The man had long dark hair and was wearing a black robe with a wide vertical gold stripe. The sleeves of the robe extended well past his hands and were slit nearly to the elbow.

  He stopped about a yard inside and said, “Condition,” in a flat, emotionless voice.

  It’s not human! Petra pressed herself against the wall. The face hadn’t moved at all when it spoke and the voice had sounded wrong. Petra looked more closely and saw something else wrong—the eyes looked like glass and weren’t pointed in quite the same direction. It simply stood motionless and she finally realized that it was waiting for her to answer.

  “I’m tired and hurt,” she said in a hoarse voice. She cleared her throat. “I need food and water.” She thought a moment. “I need to relieve myself.” Maybe that will get me out of here for a while.

  “Tired. Irrelevant. Hurt. Minor.” Petra gasped as the creature’s head turned to the right until it was nearly facing backward. The hair looked wrong too, as though it were one solid piece. “Water. Food. Seek. Gather. Bring.” She heard more noises outside and a loud screech. Bright sunlight suddenly flooded the area outside her room forcing her to briefly close her eyes. They just opened a door to the outside!

  The head swiveled back around. “Relieve. Explain.”

  Petra frowned and thought how to answer. “I need to expel waste. Liquid. Urine. Is there a privy? Or I can go outside.” Please let me go outside!

  “Unnecessary.”

  Unnecessary? Is this thing even alive? Or the thing behind it? “Who are you? Why am I here?”

  “Collector. Witch. Acquire. Investigate.”

  As it turned and walked out, Petra desperately tried to shuffle forward, but the door closed with a decisive sound. She went back to a corner and sat down to think. Is Collector its name or what it does? It’s probably both. It knows I’m a witch, and it sounds like that was why I was collected. But why were Hanna and Valwyn taken? I should have asked about them instead of lying about needing to urinate.

  Thudding and scraping noises from outside continued, and she wondered just how many creatures were out there. I have got to get out of here. There’s a door leading outside close by. She turned her attention to the manacle around her right wrist. She peered into the slot where a key was obviously supposed to be inserted. Staring at the metal pins and levers visible inside, she concentrated on trying to move each one in turn. One moved easily, and she heard a distinct click as it locked into a different position. I can do this! Petra continued her efforts, finding some of the other parts more resistant or completely immovable. There was suddenly a loud click as the manacle sprang open and fell off her wrist, making a clanging noise as it struck the metal floor. Petra’s joy quickly turned to panic as she began to hear noises right outside the door. She put her right hand in her lap and used her left to put the manacle back around her wrist. It closed but didn’t lock. She placed her left hand on top of her right and waited for the door to open.

  The door scraped noisily open, providing her first good look at the larger creature. It seemed to be entirely made of metal. Its body was barrel-shaped, and it didn’t have a head so much as a large domed bump on top of the body. The legs were round with several joints and they ended in round disks. The arms were similarly articulated. The left ended in a metal pincer and the right in a huge metal hammer. She saw three open-topped, metal cubes on the floor, each measuring about half a yard across. There was no sign of the Collector, but she saw another identical metal creature behind it and noted that it was much less bright outside now. The creature used its pincer to pick up a cube, walked forward, and then set it in the middle of the room. Petra carefully watched the way it moved. It was precise, but the movements were slow. It’s clear
ly built for combat. It’s strong but not fast. And this kind of thing is very difficult for it.

  The cube now sitting near her was two-thirds full of murky water that was now sloshing back and forth. It took all of Petra’s willpower to sit there instead of diving forward and plunging her head into it. The creature set the second cube next to the first. She could see leafy twigs in it, but she also caught sight of a cluster of red berries and some kind of yellow fruit. She couldn’t see anything in the third cube after it was brought in.

  After the creature departed and the door closed, Petra promptly removed the manacle from her right wrist and moved up to the cubes. She sat with her head above the first cube and used her right hand to scoop water into her mouth. It was muddy and she could feel grit in her mouth, but it was cold. It was the best-tasting water that she had ever drunk. When her thirst was finally slaked, she looked at the next cube. She found five clusters of small red berries and three hand-sized, oval-shaped, yellow fruits. She picked up one and examined it. She cautiously took a bite, finding it had a thin skin like an apple. The taste was good but unknown to her. The flesh inside was a pale orange. She continued eating it in small bites, finding the center to be a mass of pulp and seeds. She ate all of the flesh and put the remainder back in the food cube.

  Petra looked sadly at the third cube. It was completely empty. I know what that’s for, but I really don’t want to think about it just yet. She tried to lift it, but it was too heavy, ruining her plan to throw it as a distraction.

  After drinking more water, Petra sat back against the wall and slowly ate another of the yellow fruits as she formulating her escape plan. Then she turned her attention to the manacles again. It only took her a few minutes to completely remove them. She couldn’t think of any real use for them, so she hid them in the bottom of the food cube.