by Tom Lloyd
He stopped and cast a look around at those of his crew still left alive. Toil – always damned Toil. That murderous bitch has killed mine too many times, but this is the end. Oh yes, little princess. You’ll soon wish you never crawled up out of that hole all those years ago.
‘Veilope,’ he said, spotting the stubbly head of a mage cradling his injured arm. ‘It is time – that experiment of yours. I need it.’
‘That—’ The mage’s face paled. ‘Experiment? You mean bomb. Are you certain?’
Oh yes – the dark queen’s favourite daughter has appeared to bring all to ruin once again. But this time I’ll not oppose her. This time I’ll simply turn the chaos she brings into something wonderful.
‘Fetch it now. Ntir – kill anyone who gets in your way.’
Chapter 36
Once they were underground, the Cards faltered. Most hadn’t been into a city-ruin before, but they’d heard the stories. With just the light from Toil’s lantern, it was an intimidating sight – only the barest shape of square chamber and the black void of a tunnel up ahead.
‘Do you know where you’re going?’ asked someone as Toil did a circuit of the stairs, mage-gun raised.
‘Not a damn clue!’ she replied. ‘That’s all part of the fun.’
‘Oh great,’ muttered Llaith, ‘she’s finally cracked under the pressure.’
‘No, she means it,’ Lynx said. ‘This is the bit she likes – even before she could see down here.’
The Cards who didn’t have mage-blessed eyes instinctively moved to the walls. They pressed their backs against the stone as the strange blue light of the lantern traced the lines of the rock. Once it had looked dark even when activated, but now Lynx could see a core of blue within the brass casing. The light it cast on the walls was similarly brighter. Lynx felt his bone-deep fears of underground ease, still present but manageable. He had to resist the urge to hug Sitain for whatever part her magic played in that.
Once Toil was satisfied she started towards the black tunnel mouth, Aben at her side and Reft close behind. The huge man wasn’t a Marked Card, he couldn’t see much at all in the dark, but Lynx had never known Reft to be afraid of anything. Clearly he didn’t mean to start now and the flesh-wound he’d received wasn’t going to slow him up.
‘Get the other lamps out,’ Toil ordered, advancing into the tunnel a short way then retreating. ‘All of you.’
‘Lamps?’ Anatin asked as Aben pulled his pack off and dug inside.
‘Don’t give me that. I know some of you nicked a few mage-glass lamps from the Labyrinth, and, Sitain, have you forgotten you’ve got one of these as well?’
As Aben retrieved a small sphere of black glass encased in whorls of tarnished silver, Sitain started hunting for the one the Wisps had given her, back in Shadows Deep. Before she’d found it, two of the Cards, Deern and Haphori, rather shamefacedly produced milky-glass spheres that had once adorned the path to the stone tree in Jarrazir.
‘Sitain, charge them but keep them hidden, you two,’ Toil ordered. ‘We’ll be targets anyway, no need to make that worse.’
The young mage didn’t waste time arguing. While night magic was hardly the best to charge a lamp, she had power to spare. It was safer than asking Atieno to do the job. The light it produced wasn’t as bright as Lynx remembered, with fewer swirls of colours drifting through it, but down here it was good enough. Deern and Haphori tucked the glass spheres away again, and by the strange half-light of the Duegar lanterns they continued.
Not far down the tunnel they came to an obstacle, one clearly man-made. Rubble from somewhere was piled up around a small archway that looked oddly out of place. It was covered in Duegar glyphs that shone in the lantern light and made Toil gasp. Underfoot, the ground was patchily discoloured and a foetid smell lingered. The distinctive scars of mage-cartridges were visible everywhere too. Lynx didn’t have guess too hard about the stained ground.
The gunfire had been particularly intense at the choke-point. He could read that in the damage left behind, even if there were no bodies in sight. That gave him pause for thought, this close to the surface, as did the realisation that he could see no corpses beyond the arch, non-human or otherwise. The Knights-Charnel would remove their own dead, but surely not those of things like maspids.
Before he could come to any conclusions, Toil approached the archway and a figure lurched forward from the far side. It came to stand beneath it as though ready to greet the Cards. It was a woman – or had once been anyway. Lynx wasn’t sure what she was now, but it was an effort not to shoot her in the face. Judging by the grumblings around him, he wasn’t the only one to feel that way.
The woman wore a tattered Charneler uniform, but her eyes, nose, mouth and ears all emitted a sickly yellow-green light. She looked like she was having trouble walking and while she was emaciated Lynx didn’t think that was the problem.
He’d seen walking ghosts in his prison days, those with the fatigue of starvation who moved their limbs with slow and weary care. This woman, though, moved in quick staccato bursts. Each step was jerky and confused as though she was having to concentrate on remembering how each movement was supposed to go. She regarded the Cards for a short while then reached up to the archway, caressing several glyphs that pulsed as she touched them.
‘What now?’ Anatin asked. ‘What in the deepest black is she?’
‘I don’t know,’ Toil said in a low voice. ‘Proximity to so many God Fragments can have an effect on the mind. Maybe with more being brought here and the increase of magic, this is what’s happened to the priesthood or vault guards.’
She didn’t get to theorise any longer as a sharp crack rang out. Lynx flinched as a streak of white flashed past him and into the gods-touched woman. It caught her full in the face and snapped her head back. For a moment she wavered then the light went out and she crumpled.
Everyone turned to Layir, who’d fired the shot. ‘What?’ he demanded. ‘The Charnelers are still our enemies, right?’
Lynx opened his mouth to argue then shut it again. He certainly didn’t want to find out what a woman with light shining from her head was capable of, even if that had felt like an execution. Toil just grinned at the young man.
‘Nice to be back underground,’ she commented. ‘Everything’s so much simpler down here.’
‘Simpler?’ Lynx said. ‘Scary and lethal, you mean?’
For a moment no one spoke. He almost expected someone to make a crack about being afraid of the dark – Deern or Braqe most likely – but right now they were all thinking the same. They knew what was probably lurking down here and it wasn’t going to be pretty when they found it.
‘Simpler too,’ Toil argued. ‘I wouldn’t advise anyone to go through that arch. I dunno what it does, but what little I can read of those glyphs isn’t friendly.’
‘We’ve got to climb?’ Anatin asked, looking dubiously at the pile of rubble. It was fifteen feet high and while it had plenty of handholds, it didn’t look all that stable.
Aben took a closer look. ‘No. See here, there’s a path through, between the rock.’
‘Lead on then,’ Toil said, ‘watch for traps as you go, mind.’
‘Yeah, boss.’
‘If he doesn’t find one and we’ve got a spare burner,’ she added with a wicked grin, ‘I’ll rig it up for anyone following. Always good to discover your enemy’s not as devious as you are, eh?’
It took just a minute to get the Cards all past the obstacle and a fire grenade rigged to a tripwire. Before long they were back on their way, moving steadily down the tunnel and keeping watch for any sort of movement.
They reached the end and Lynx sensed the space as much as saw it. The Duegar lanterns showed the rock open up ahead, a low wall not far beyond that. A broad path led off left and right, the start of a ramp visible a little way off on the left. There were more signs of a firefight there, but impossible to determine if they were part of a continuous fighting retreat or different skirmishes.
They crept out onto the walkway and one of the Marked Cards gave a low whistle at the immense space beyond the wall.
‘What is it?’ breathed Llaith, nudging Lynx.
‘Some sort of massive chamber,’ he replied as quietly as he could. ‘Walkway round three sides, all straight but for the wall without. That one bows inwards like the sea’s pressing on the other side – all mage-carved, not natural. Shit – that curved wall, is that painted?’
A sound came from the space beyond. Instead of replying, Toil gestured to keep quiet. The Cards instinctively tensed and huddled closer. It wasn’t a human noise but one of something far larger, the rasp of a body moving across stone.
Lynx saw the chamber was rectangular with a spiral ramp occupying a large chunk of the far corner too. The floor had to be eighty yards below them, a strange shifting light illuminating patches of it. It seemed to be decorated with some huge mosaic, the light hinting at an intricate swirling pattern. Before anyone could speak there was a fluttering sound, one that reminded Lynx all too clearly of the flocks of tysarn in the Mage Islands.
‘What’s that, Toil?’
‘You don’t want to know,’ she hissed back. ‘Anatin, get a light-bolt ready.’
Toil continued to look down at the chamber floor a while longer before coming to any sort of decision. There were tunnel mouths leading out at the far end and a larger one on the right-hand side. Even Lynx could work out which one they needed to aim for. He assumed Toil was trying to work out what else was in the chamber before making any sort of move.
‘This is going to get nasty,’ she concluded. ‘We’ll go around to the far slope and down to the ground there. Blood in front, Snow at the rear. Sparkers and burners for anything small, earthers for the big beasties. If one does go for us, hug the wall as best you can. We’ll drive it over the edge.’
Toil and Aben led the way, four abreast with Reft and Deern. Behind them the other suits moved in knots, Lynx finding himself at the edge of the parapet overlooking the chamber. As their footsteps began to echo, the strange lights below quivered in response. As dull blue as the Duegar lanterns, they didn’t cast the same sort of light, but they traced a shape at least. When they moved again it became easier to make out.
‘Something’s moving towards the ramp,’ he warned. ‘Can’t see what, but it’s not small.’
‘Predators attracted by the magic in the vaults,’ Toil agreed. ‘Looks like we’re on the menu.’
‘What do we do?’
‘Safir, keep the good stuff back if you can help it,’ Toil called to the back. ‘We go on until you sight it, okay?’
‘No complaints here,’ Safir replied.
The company’s pace picked up as Toil tried to get them as far from trouble as possible, vain hope or not. Lynx tried to imagine what it was ascending the slope, but the lights had been disparate and shifting. Far from the long bulk of the creatures in Caldaire that pulsed with light, these ones still looked bigger than a maspid. Lynx did get a better look at the curved wall as they walked opposite it. Clearly it was done by magery rather than some sort of imminent collapse, he was glad to see. What was depicted was harder to make out, the Duegar lanterns too weak to cast their light that far.
‘Anyone hear that?’ Anatin asked suddenly. ‘Like … whispers?’
‘Nasty flying things,’ Toil said. ‘Scavengers mostly – hence the lack o’ bodies round here, but don’t let ’em land on you.’
‘Not the wings,’ Anatin insisted. ‘More like echoes, voices just on the edge of hearing.’
‘Yeah, I do,’ Llaith confirmed.
‘I don’t,’ Lynx said. ‘Whispers? Think you two are getting old.’
‘I can hear it too,’ Payl said, ‘and my ears work just fine.’
‘It’s the gods,’ Atieno suggested. ‘Their spirit that lives on inside the fragments at least. Remember those old soldiers at Jang-Her who woke up able to speak Duegar and the like – gods-touched. It’s one reason they have sanctuaries all over, producing mage-cartridges, to keep their attendants sane, and why we’ve all had some weird dreams these past few months.’
‘The war has made them recall stocks to the most secure location,’ Toil added. ‘No doubt they think the risk is acceptable in the short term. All that’s probably amplifying the effect of the ones we’re carrying.’
‘Fuck – it’s here!’ Safir yelled suddenly.
The company juddered to a halt and whirled around. Whatever the thing was, it was moving slowly – looking to gauge their reaction before acting. Lynx couldn’t see much more than before, but there were strips of pale blue light that wavered and twitched as it advanced. Those suggested it stood high, a broad body that narrowed, but Lynx couldn’t work out any real shape.
‘Anatin, light it up,’ Toil ordered, pushing her way through the ranks. ‘Give us a proper look at it.’
The Prince of Sun fired his pistol at the creature as the Cards all covered their eyes. A streak of searing white light surged forward and … seemed to pass straight through the creature before striking stone well behind it. Lynx flinched as the light-bolt flowered into a beacon, silhouetting the creature that was advancing on them – or rather, several creatures. Each one was bigger than a man, standing higher and on two legs, but with a mass of feathery tendrils radiating out from what he assumed was the head.
The creatures faltered, confused by the white light, and in that moment a member of the rearguard fired an icer into the body of one. It staggered under the impact and the others shied back, tendrils flattening like a cowed dog’s ears. As the echo of the gunshot rang around the chamber, the sound of wings burst into life. Lynx flinched at the leathery flutter as the unseen flock went up and around, circling towards them. The strange creatures reacted instinctively, their tendrils twitching up and down as a renewed burst of pale blue light pulsed and flickered down their length.
‘Hold fire,’ Safir called, seeing they weren’t advancing any further.
‘Everyone kneel,’ Toil ordered, ‘spread wide, keep the centre road clear.’
The Cards obeyed without asking why or making a fuss, a minor miracle in itself, Lynx thought. As the sound of wings continued, the glowing creatures crept forward to their injured pack-member. It was hard to make out much, but Lynx caught the movement of small dark things swooping past the glowing lights.
Those circled and closed, darting down as though seeking the injured one, but it was surrounded by a glowing thicket of tendrils. When one of the tysarn-like things clipped one, the tendril contracted around it as fast as a striking snake. Not all were successful, but several were, then a dozen or more, curling downwards and snagging whatever it was that flew past. The creatures thrashed and fought inside their glowing bonds, but their captors seemed unmoved and the tendrils tightened steadily until their prey stopped moving.
‘Fuck!’ Toil yelled from the front of the column. ‘Maspids!’
Lynx whirled around to see gunshots leap out from the lead Cards. Bulky dark shapes darted at them, some taking a beating while others slashed forward. Men and women yelled, maspids chittered and scrabbled blade-like legs across the stone. As the Cards at the front threw themselves backwards others fired – icers and sparkers hurling staccato light through the darkness. A burner exploded just ten yards from where they stood. It silhouetted a maspid against the expanding flames then enveloped it.
As Lynx took aim, Reft jumped forward and smashed an axe into the carapace of the nearest. The maspid gave a strange clicking screech of pain and wrenched sideways. Before it could flee Lynx put an icer through its abdomen. It collapsed close enough for Reft to make sure with his next blow. Under the furious gunfire the maspids fled, the advantage of surprise lost.
‘Godspit and damn!’ Anatin growled, blood dropping from his arm. ‘I’m getting too old for this shit.’
Lynx headed forward to add to the defensive line while the injured were seen to. Himbel took hold of Anatin and sliced the stitching of his sleeve, exposing a deep gash on
the commander’s forearm.
‘It’s not so bad,’ Himbel pronounced. ‘Just wrap it and …’ The company surgeon stopped and looked at the man as blood dripped down Anatin’s one remaining hand. Himbel laughed. ‘Oh yeah, I see yer point.’
‘Fuck you,’ Anatin snapped. ‘You’ll not be laughing when I’m gone.’
‘That won’t kill you,’ Himbel said as Payl started to wrap a bandage around Anatin’s good arm. ‘Don’t be so fucking dramatic.’
‘Might be the death o’ me down here,’ Anatin retorted. ‘Not like I can use the other bloody one is it? And even if it don’t kill me, I ain’t doing this again. Some other idiot can take over, I’m retiring.’
‘Picked a fucking stupid place to announce that,’ Himbel said, bent over a rather more serious wound. ‘And anyway, you could be this prick.’
He pointed down to the man he was tending to, Darm. The red-haired mercenary growled back at Himbel but said nothing. His leg had a nasty cut down the calf. Soon Himbel was calling for a mage-sphere to help him see. ‘Gonna have to stitch this,’ he commented, looking grim. ‘Sitain, come give me some help. Ulfer’s balls, Darm, don’t you ever get out of the way o’ things?’
‘I try,’ the big mercenary said through gritted teeth.
‘We don’t have time for surgery,’ Toil called. ‘Likely we’ve got troops coming after us who know the way already.’
‘We’ve got time!’ Anatin snapped, gesturing at Toil with the stump of his left wrist. ‘Don’t you fucking dare think about leaving any Card down here.’
‘This is war!’ she yelled back. ‘People die – I don’t bloody like it but we’ve still got a mission.’
‘Fuck the mission,’ Lynx broke in. ‘I ain’t leaving anyone alive down here.’
‘Damn right,’ Deern added, a surprising ally until he continued, ‘and I’ll shoot anyone in the back if they try to leave me behind.’
Toil hesitated and looked around at the faces. Aben edged a little closer to her, seeing the resolve in all the surrounding mercenaries, but she realised her position. ‘Fine,’ Toil said in a dismissive tone. ‘You might not always get the choice, but okay.’
