Against the Unweaving

by D. P. Prior

  Huntsman nodded. ‘Sektis Gandaw. He has found a way back, but how, I do not know. He has never had the power. Not since my gods took last of his plane ships.’

  ‘He already had two pieces of the statue,’ Shader said. ‘Mine and Maldark’s. Maybe that’s how.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ Rhiannon said. ‘But that means he’s now got four.’

  The Ipsissimus fingered the Monas on its chain. ‘Then what should we do?’

  ‘An army of corpses marches on Homestead,’ Huntsman said. ‘This is why we have come.’

  ‘More undead?’ Hagalle said.

  ‘Many more,’ Huntsman said. ‘Cadman—Sektis Gandaw—is ravaging sacred sites of my people. Ancient graves are being opened. Ants tell Sammy this army is more numerous than grains of sand in Great Desert.’

  ‘But they’re heading to the Homestead,’ Hagalle said. ‘Why should we care? Even your people seldom go there these days. It’s just a rock in the back of beyond.’

  Huntsman drew himself up and cocked his head. ‘It is home of my gods, last of their kind. They it was who rescued statue from Sektis Gandaw in Dreaming. We cannot let them die.’

  ‘Not convinced,’ Hagalle said. ‘I’m not sending Sahulian forces into the outback when there are cities to be defended.’

  ‘Against what Sektis Gandaw plans,’ Huntsman said, ‘there is no defence. First he will slaughter my gods, and then he will come for you.’ He looked directly at the Ipsissimus. ‘Archon shields you for now, but Gandaw will find a way.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it make more sense,’ Shader said, ‘for him to come for the Monas first, make the statue complete?’

  ‘He is careful. Very patient,’ Huntsman said. ‘He must know last piece cannot be hidden from him for long, not now he has all others. But he will take no chances. My gods defeated him once before. He hates them beyond all imagining. He will not leave them unpunished.’

  Hagalle turned on his heel and strode away from the group. He stood with hands on hips, staring up at his army. Rhiannon followed him and spoke in his ear.

  ‘Then we should go to the Homestead,’ the Ipsissimus said. ‘One final battle to decide the fate of the world.’

  ‘It is not just this world that is at stake,’ Huntsman said. ‘If Sektis Gandaw wins, he will start Unweaving. This world, Dreaming, even Abyss itself, will be unmade. All that exists will cease.’

  Hagalle nodded to Rhiannon and walked back to stand with the Ipsissimus and Huntsman. ‘You should make use of a lass like that,’ he said to the Ipsissimus. ‘She might well be infected with your disease, but she’s still Sahulian, and she has the Sahulian gift of common sense. I’ll go, if you will, but only on the understanding that you leave as soon as this is over.’

  ‘You have my word,’ the Ipsissimus said.

  ‘Then I suppose that will have to do.’ Hagalle turned to Huntsman. ‘I take it you have some plan for marching thousands of troops across the centre of Sahul without them dying of exposure and dehydration.’

  ‘Sammy,’ Huntsman said. ‘With rest and food he will regain his strength. Together, he and I will open a portal.’

  ‘Better hope you get your aim right,’ Hagalle said.’

  ‘We will.’ Huntsman nodded, gazing into the distance. ‘Homestead is most sacred site of my people. It will draw us.’

  ROGUE’S LAST STAND

  Albert stepped out of the plane ship into a cathedral-like cavern. Natural phosphorescence bathed the walls in a greenish glow. The floor was a forest of twisted stalagmites, and stalactites hung from above, dripping with moisture. It was like standing in a dragon’s jaws.

  He turned back to the plane ship but saw only the rectangle of light from which he’d just emerged, and nothing but air and rock where the craft should have been. Judging by the immensity of the corridors he’d traversed with Shadrak, the craft was too large even for the cavern. Perhaps its peculiar nature allowed it to merge with the walls, or maybe it was somewhere else altogether.

  Shadrak appeared in the light carrying a large metal box. He set it down before Albert.

  ‘The globes explode when shattered,’ he said, opening the lid and lifting a glass orb for Albert to see. ‘These tubes spit fire in long gouts, and there are lengths of cable and pitons.’

  ‘Fascinating,’ Albert said. ‘I would thank you for your generosity, but I have no idea why you’re giving them to me.’

  ‘You had a choice back there,’ Shadrak said, glaring at Albert with those unnerving pink eyes. ‘Stay and fight, or come with me and do what you’re told.’

  ‘Yes,’ Albert said, rubbing his chin. ‘I must have missed that last bit.’

  Three shapes moved from the shadows surrounding a cluster of gigantic stalagmites. Albert took a step back, but Shadrak put a hand on the small of his back.

  ‘I was told to expect this,’ he said.

  ‘Told?’ Albert said. ‘Told by whom?’

  Albert flicked a look over his shoulder at the entrance to the plane ship. Perhaps if Shadrak was distracted he’d be able to nip back inside. How difficult could it be to pilot the thing? If Shadrak could manage it then Albert was sure it would be a doddle for him.

  The figures edged closer to the accompaniment of a sibilant hiss and deep throaty croaks. Albert’s mouth hung open as he began to descry what they were.

  The central figure had the body of a huge black man, thickly muscled and ridged with veins. His head, however, was serpentine, bobbing and swaying at the end of a sinuous neck. To his right loomed an even larger man, this one bronze-skinned and with the head of a crocodile. Its tawny eyes watched him the same way Albert would have eyed a crème brulée. The third figure was much smaller, a squat humanoid with the head of a toad and a tongue that flicked out as if tasting the air.

  The three stopped a few paces from Albert and Shadrak. The albino placed the orb back inside the box and shut the lid.

  ‘I am Mamba,’ said the black man with the snake’s head.

  ‘And I am Baru,’ Crocodile Head said.

  Toad hopped closer and shot his tongue towards Albert. ‘Thindamura.’

  ‘Shadrak,’ the Albino said, ‘and this is Albert, your protector.’

  ‘Their what?’ Albert said, inching back towards the rectangle of light.

  A shadow passed overhead and Albert looked up. He dropped into a crouch as it seemed the ceiling fell towards him, but then he realized that something was making a controlled descent. Something massive, with eight long legs dangling beneath it. Shadrak pulled him back to make way for a gigantic spider.

  ‘The Archon said he would send aid,’ the spider said with a clacking of mandibles. ‘Yet he sends us only you.’

  ‘I don’t know what he promised you,’ Shadrak said. ‘Just told me to bring help and that’s what I’ve done. Albert’s the best in the business and he’s got a box of tricks that’s as good as a small army.’

  Protector? Box of tricks? Small army? What on earth was Shadrak playing at? Albert turned to ask him, but Shadrak had already slipped back into the rectangle of light. The door panel started to slide down.

  ‘Good luck, Albert. I have to be some place else. Hold as long as you can and we may yet get out of this alive.’

  ‘Get out of what? You can’t just leave—’

  But the rectangle of light had gone, leaving only rocks and air in its wake. There was a shimmer like a heat wave, a muffled drone, and then nothing.

  The great spider shuffled towards Albert, watching him through rows of red eyes.

  ‘I am Murgah Muggui. We are the last of our kind. If indeed you have the skills to aid us, we will be forever in your debt.’

  ‘Aid you? I’m a poisoner, for goodness’ sake. I kill people for a living.’

  ‘I fear that is exactly the sort of help we will need,’ Murgah Muggui said. ‘An old enemy comes, and soon the last battle will be fought. Console yourself that your are labouring to preserve more than your own life. You are fighting for the survival of worlds.’
>
  ‘Then I think you’ve been sent the wrong man,’ Albert said. ‘I’m way too much of a cynic to give a damn about all that. A vintage Sauvignon and some mature cheddar is the only thing on my mind right now.’

  That and a million other things. Such as how he was going to repay Shadrak for this; how he was going to capitalize on the weakness of the Sicarii following their unprecedented losses at Dead Man’s Torch; and…’

  A muffled boom shook the cave.

  ‘What the—?’

  ‘They are coming!’ Thindamura hopped excitedly. ‘They are coming!’

  ‘Who?’ Albert said. ‘Who’s coming?’

  Baru turned his great head to look up at the ceiling towards the rear of the cavern. ‘The dead of Sahul,’ he said. ‘And creatures from Aethir.’

  Mamba flexed his bulging muscles and bared his fangs. ‘Sssektis Gandaw comesss. After all thisss time he hasss not forgotten.’

  Another boom, this one louder and more urgent. Rock clattered from the ceiling and a crack raced across the rear wall of the cavern.

  ‘We will be trapped down here,’ Murgah Muggui said. ‘Quickly! There is an old fault that runs all the way to the summit. If we go now we may yet evade them.’

  The three hybrid creatures ran from sight behind the stalagmites. Murgah Muggui rose into the air on a ropey strand of silk and scuttled across the ceiling.

  Albert looked around helplessly, thoughts consumed with a thousand ways of killing Shadrak. Another explosion nearly threw him from his feet. Cursing under his breath, he stooped down, lifted the metal box, and ran.

  He got no more than a dozen paces when the rear wall exploded. Rock spewed into the cavern and a chunk struck Albert on the temple. He fell in a daze, cracking the back of his head against stone. He heard the metal box crash to the floor and for a moment feared it was about to detonate. The contents rattled and chinked, but did not break.

  He rolled to his front and tried to rise, his head pounding and groggy. He couldn’t quite focus on the ground beneath him—it seemed to pitch and roll as if he were at sea. Cold hands grabbed him and hauled him up. He probably should have screamed, but he was too disoriented to care. He grinned like an idiot as rotten teeth pressed towards him, red eyes glaring from a face that resembled off meat. Scores of corpses shambled about him clutching with cyanosed fingers. Albert retched and his vision cleared. The stench of rot filled his nostrils and screams bubbled up from his gut.

  Suddenly Baru was amongst the dead, ripping with his great jaws, pummelling with his fists. He tore Albert from his attacker and slung him into the arms of Mamba. The snake man passed him to the care of Thindamura and then leapt into the fray, bludgeoning the dead with his tree-trunk arms.

  Toad led him towards a fissure in the cavern wall, but Albert pulled away and ran back for the box. Putrescence sprayed and limbs flew as Baru savaged the undead. A corpse lurched towards Albert, but Mamba clubbed it down. Hundreds more were still pouring through a cavity in the rear wall. Lifting the box, Albert struggled towards the fissure. Toad was hopping and gesticulating for him to hurry. Mamba and Baru fell back, flattening the dead with thunderous blows. They were both bleeding from dozens of cuts, but they seemed not to notice.

  ‘Quickly,’ Thindamura croaked, flicking his tongue from side to side. ‘We must go up.’

  Albert ducked inside the fissure and set the box down.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Thindamura said.

  ‘Buying us some time.’ Albert opened the box. ‘You hop along and I’ll catch up.’

  Thindamura looked back at his fellow hybrids, saw the futility of helping them, and bounded up the slope before him.

  Mamba backed into the opening, swinging his mighty arms and pulping rotten flesh. Baru fought for every inch of ground, snapping with his jaws and using his huge hands to break necks or batter limbs. The tide of undead continued to swell and the two hybrids were forced to retreat.

  Mamba almost stepped on Albert as the assassin snatched up three glass orbs and hurled them. Light flared amidst a deafening crash and scores of corpses were blown apart. The smell of cooking meat wafted into the fissure. Albert shuffled up the slope a little way, pulling the box behind him. Mamba’s bulk filled the opening; he was pounding and hissing as he fought to keep the mass of undead back.

  Albert selected a couple of pitons and a mallet and proceeded to hammer one either side of the fissure. Mamba retreated before the horde as Albert pulled out a fluid filled cylinder with a metal nozzle. He turned it around to get some sort of understanding of its mechanism. There was a trigger of sorts, like those he’d seen on crossbows. He wedged the body of the device into a crack, secured it with scree, and began to rig it to his tripwire. Mamba stepped over him and Baru backed into the opening still clubbing left and right, but tiring visibly. He swung his head towards Albert.

  ‘You need to go. Now!’

  Albert made a few adjustments and then scrambled up the slope after Mamba. He looked back as Baru cried out. Bloodless hands grabbed the hybrid and dragged him down. Albert knew he should have gone back, but that really wasn’t his style. He was about to resume his ascent when he saw a vast shadow descend upon the undead. Murgah Muggui ripped into them with her mandibles, pinned them down with her legs, and angled her bulbous body to bring her stinger to bear. Baru broke free and reached the fissure whilst the giant spider thrashed about, cutting a swath through the corpses. Her bulk backed towards the opening as she held off the throng of undead, but then something silver glinted in the cave. It was a sphere that sped through the air to the accompaniment of a shrill whirring whine. Murgah Muggui must have known what it was and tried to withdraw, but a beam of blinding light discharged from a nozzle in the sphere and she screamed. For an instant, Albert saw her innards, as if she had been struck by lightning, and then Murgah Muggui burst into flame. Her flesh roasted, giving off gouts of black smoke, and her limbs twitched and contracted.

  ‘No!’ Baru cried, stepping towards her.

  ‘It’s too late,’ Albert said. ‘You have to keep moving.’

  He scurried down, took hold of Baru by the shoulders, and turned him towards the slope. The hybrid let out a mournful cry and clambered upwards. Albert retrieved the box, stepped over his tripwire, and followed.

  He’d gone only a few feet when he heard a high-pitched whir behind him. Instinctively, he hit the ground and light lanced over him, blasting a hole in the rock. He dragged the box around a bend, opened it, and fumbled around inside until he found another of the cylindrical weapons. He cradled it in his arms, located the trigger, and waited with his back pressed to the wall.

  Baru turned and started back towards him.

  ‘No,’ Albert hissed. ‘Get out of here.’

  The silver sphere rounded the corner and Albert pressed the trigger. Flame gushed from the nozzle and struck the sphere, hurling it into the wall. It spun frantically, emitting a shrill scream and discharging beams of light in random directions. Albert kept firing as it turned first red and then white. The screaming rose to a crescendo and the sphere crashed to the ground. Albert didn’t release the trigger until the flames ran out.

  The dead lurched through the fissure, jamming each other in the opening as they blindly sought out prey. Finally, one of them squeezed through and lumbered forward, right into Albert’s trip wire. Flame shot across the passageway, melting flesh and filling the fissure with acrid smoke.

  Albert nodded his satisfaction before setting off after the hybrids, dragging the box with him.

  What the hell was he doing? He should never have been here. First Master Frayn’s madcap scheme, and then Shadrak’s double-edged rescue. This wasn’t Albert’s kind of work. He was a poisoner, not some desperado making a last stand just to save a bunch of freaks worshipped by savages.

  Strong hands grabbed him and pulled him further up the slope.

  ‘Give me the box,’ Baru said. ‘You must move quickly.’

  Already, the dead had passed through the flames a
nd were closing inexorably.

  ‘How far have we got to go?’ Albert asked.

  ‘A long way. We will tire before we reach the top, but these dead things will not.’

  ‘You go,’ Albert said. ‘I’ll see if I can slow them down.’

  Baru glared at him and then nodded, clambering up into the darkness.

  Albert carried the box around another bend and then scooped out the rest of the orbs. He’d used up all the fire cylinders and had no time to rig another trap. Instead, he placed all the orbs but one on the ground— fifteen of them. Holding the last orb, he backed away and waited.

  Within moments, groping hands appeared, followed by a great swarm of cadavers lumbering towards him with frenzied eyes.

  ‘Here we go,’ Albert told himself. ‘Trusting it all on one last throw of the die.’

  He hurled the sphere into the midst the others and threw himself around the corner. The passageway shook as a thunderous roar rolled along the fissure and a blast of heat scorched his back. Howls went up from the undead and the smell of burning flesh followed.

  Albert waited for the heat to pass, found his feet, and ran as fast as his chunky legs would allow him.

  The hybrids waited further up. Baru dropped behind to guard the rear whilst Thindamura kept the lead, hopping ahead and then crouching impatiently as the others caught up. At first, Albert thought he’d stopped the dead, but after half an hour of arduous climbing he could hear shambling and groaning pursuing them up the fissure.

  The hybrids seemed deflated by the death of Murgah Muggui, but still they kept moving upwards, although Albert had the impression they did so purely for his sake. To his mind, they had given up.

  Finally, Thindamura climbed some knobs in the passage wall and disappeared from sight. A moment later he reappeared.