Trial of the Thaumaturge (Scions of Nexus Book 3)

by Gregory Mattix

  “Step across my back,” she said.

  Kulnor jumped first onto Ferret’s back then over onto the intact section of catwalk. He ran for the stairs leading to a higher level ten paces beyond the break.

  Taren didn’t slow, running and leaping across the entire gap. Mira was right behind, and they followed Kulnor up the stairs to the next level higher. He chanced a glance back and saw Creel and Aninyel fighting back to back against half a dozen tentacles arising from either side of the ruined catwalk. The monster hunter lopped a thick tentacle in half, the severed appendage spewing ichor, while Aninyel slashed at another.

  “Come on!” Taren called to his friends.

  “Go!” Creel shouted.

  Aninyel ducked and slashed, clearing space as the tentacles recoiled from the sting of her saber. She nimbly ran across Ferret’s back without breaking stride.

  When the catwalk finally tore loose on the far end and was immediately dragged underwater, Creel lost his balance. Without looking, he reversed Final Strike and stabbed it into a flailing tentacle behind him just long enough to shift his weight and balance himself on the edge of the twisted catwalk. He pulled his sword free, took two quick strides, and leaped clear just as the catwalk ripped free altogether as the beast hauled it into the depths. Ferret let go of the grating and caught Creel’s extended hand. They perched there precariously for a moment, the girl with one hand and leg on the stable flooring, the rest of her hanging over the water and holding Creel upright.

  Aninyel turned back and grabbed onto Ferret, trying to pull the others onto the stable catwalk. Ferret managed to roll over, and the three of them collapsed in a heap on the end of the walkway.

  Taren examined the monstrous form with his second sight. Whatever the beast was, it resembled a giant squid. He was already gathering earth magic, focusing it into a long blade of force, similar to what he’d used to slay the inquisitor, Tellast, back in Ryedale. Then like a butcher chopping a cleaver, he sent the blade slicing into the water and the bulk of the creature. It cleaved through the rubbery body with ease. Severed bits of tentacles tumbled free, splashing as they disappeared into the churning froth. The murky water quickly turned to pitch from the ichor gushing from the beast’s body. A moment later, chunks of unidentifiable dark-green flesh surfaced, and the foul, fishy reek intensified.

  “Nice one,” Aninyel said as she made it up the ladder. “Too bad you can’t do something about that smell, though.” She wrinkled her nose.

  Taren stirred the air currents to create a breeze, scouring out the foul odor. “Better?”

  She grinned. “I can see why Zylka liked having you around. And that was even before the nifty magic tricks you’ve learned.”

  He returned her smile, even though he was still focusing on his second sight. He could barely make out an underwater tunnel from which the beast must have gained access at some point though the door was currently shut. Failing magic warded the tunnel, likely some type of regulator to keep the water out, but its slow decay was leading to the flooding. The monster had probably entered in search of food and hadn’t been able to find its way out again.

  On the next floor of the laboratory above them were several workstations with a baffling array of control panels and mechanical pieces covered in rust and mold. A metal track overhead was lined with assorted hooks to transport parts or raw materials.

  And almost directly below them underwater was a familiar bright aura of blue-white magic.

  “Taren, the bomb that Lenantos gave us fell into the water when I tried to hold the walkway together,” Ferret said when she saw where he was looking.

  “I see it. You did well holding up the catwalk.” He concentrated a moment, and the obsidian stone rose out of the water on a small disc of force.

  Ferret plucked it out of the air.

  “Anything else down there that could attack us?” Creel asked.

  Taren shook his head. “This chamber is clear for now.”

  The group was silent for a few moments, content to catch their breaths after the harrowing battle with the sea monster.

  “Me belly is empty after spewing up that wretched water,” Kulnor said. “Methinks we should take a break and eat a bit.”

  The others agreed, so they broke out rations and water skins. While they ate, Ferret wandered around the joined catwalks, exploring the various workstations.

  “Taren, do you think this could be it?” she called excitedly a couple minutes later.

  Ferret had climbed up to a higher level and was standing atop a metal platform perched above a large metal vat. The whole contraption resembled the sketch Flurbinger Flent had drawn for them.

  “I think it is,” Taren said, almost surprised they had located it so quickly.

  Chapter 44

  Taren held his breath as he climbed the steps up to the Reverse Transfiguration Tank’s platform, afraid the device would be damaged or destroyed. Below the platform yawned a pool of what looked like black oil that seemed to absorb all light. Poised above the vat was a small lift on a vertical track descending into the pitch. The device’s control panel stood on the platform, a table mounted with a bewildering array of gems and buttons and dials. To his relief, the control panel didn’t seem damaged, but it did have some rust in places and a furry growth of black mold along one section of its base.

  He fished the soggy piece of parchment Flurbinger had given him from his pack and reread the notes on it. After doing so, he adjusted a couple of dials to the proper positions and ensured everything else was set properly. Once the controls were adjusted, he double-checked everything just to be sure.

  Metal clanked on metal, and the platform trembled slightly as Ferret climbed back up. She had been pacing back and forth nervously since having first discovered the tank. She peered down into the oil a long moment then looked at Taren and the control panel.

  Creel followed her up onto the platform. The others waited below since the platform didn’t have much space.

  “Is this contraption going to work?” Ferret asked.

  “Well, everything is set according to Flurbinger’s notes. As to whether it still works after all these years…” Taren shrugged.

  “Lenantos said something about those… what did he call them? Discrepancies?”

  “Incongruities,” Taren supplied.

  “Do you think I’ll still be me when I come back out?” She looked from Taren to Creel, her fear palpable. “I don’t want to come out with an extra arm or missing a leg or something like that.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” Creel said. “If you’re having second thoughts—”

  “Nay, I’m not afraid. We’ve come all this way to do this. Reckon there’s no sense in wildly speculating as to what might happen.”

  “Might as well make sure the thing works first.” Taren removed his artificer ring and held it over a triangular inset to one side of the control panel. The band unfolded and formed a key in the proper shape. He inserted the pyramid-shaped key, and it slotted into the depression with a solid click. The control panel hummed with energy, sending vibrations thrumming through the grating underfoot. Several gems flickered in quick succession then died out, leaving only a single large red gem illuminated beside a button labeled Initiate Reverse-Transmutation.

  Taren looked over at Ferret and Creel. “It seems to work. Ready when you are, Ferret.” He gave her a solemn nod.

  Ferret had stripped out of her clothing, and the shimmering light passing through the dome gave her metal body a rippling sheen. She stepped up to the railing and peered into the oily pit—uneasily, it seemed to Taren—before Creel stepped up beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

  “This is it, lass. Time to set you right again.”

  She looked between the two of them, violet eyes glowing. “Aye, let’s get it over with, then. If this thing fails, then it’s been nice knowing you.” She waved to the others in the group below, then embraced Creel, burying her head against his chest for a long moment before
stepping away. She gave Taren a hug as well, and his ribs creaked from the pressure. He patted her back, although he knew she couldn’t feel it.

  “Sabyl, grant me luck,” Ferret whispered so quietly that Taren barely heard it. She released him, then stepped out onto the small lift and gripped the rail. “Let’s be done with it.”

  Taren nodded. He took a deep breath, then pressed the Initiate Reverse-Transmutation button. The machine buzzed, then the entire platform shuddered alarmingly, causing Taren to grab onto the nearest railing. Ferret’s lift screeched into jarring motion and descended into the tank with a squeal of protesting metal parts badly in need of oil, from the sound of it.

  The lift reached the surface of the oil and kept descending. The moment Ferret’s feet were immersed, it began bubbling, growing more intense the lower she descended. She stood as still as a statue, grasping the rail, which had bent from her powerful grip.

  Then the oil closed over her head, churning and boiling furiously as Taren watched, like some caustic potion in a witch’s cauldron. The lift jolted to a stop a moment later, and all was silent save for the bubbling liquid. He eyed the control panel anxiously. A series of gems had lit up once he pushed the button to initiate the transmutation. The gems flickered red and orange, but as he watched, they changed hue until they were mostly orange and yellow.

  Please, Grandmother, allow this to work and return Ferret to her normal self once more.

  Long minutes went by as the oily substance seethed in the pit. He exchanged nervous glances with Creel.

  Come on. Work, damn it!

  After an interminable wait, the boiling slowed and finally stopped, like a kettle removed from the flames. The gems on the control panel had changed from yellow to solid green. Taren looked around for a button or switch to return the lift to its raised position but saw nothing of help. A knot of fear clenched his gut at the thought the machine had somehow failed, but the lift abruptly issued a grinding screech and lurched into upward motion.

  He held his breath as it rose. The rail surfaced, oil streaming off it, but that was all that appeared. He stared in dread as the lift continued to surface, rising one foot then another, with still no sign of Ferret.

  “Oh gods.” He stepped around the control panel to get a closer look.

  Creel stood right at the edge, his face grim.

  Finally, a pale shape surfaced, oil streaming off what he saw was a shoulder, then the curve of a hip. Ferret lay on her side on the platform, naked, curled up in the fetal position, her back facing them. Her skin was slick with the oily substance dripping off her and through the slats in the floor.

  The lift had barely slammed to a stop before Creel stepped atop it to crouch over Ferret.

  “Ferret? Are you all right, lass?” He hesitated a moment before placing a hand on her shoulder and gently shaking her.

  When Ferret stirred, Taren let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. She slowly uncurled from her fetal position and rolled over to her hands and knees. A tremendous spasm seized her, and she vomited black oil through the grated floor. She retched violently several times before taking a shaking breath. Her head was completely hairless, a smooth glistening dome.

  Mira brushed past Taren, Ferret’s clothing in hand, and knelt beside Creel.

  “Lass?” Creel asked again.

  “Aye.” Ferret’s voice came out a croak. She cleared her throat, spitting more oil out. “I bloody well never want to go through that again.” She shivered as though realizing she was naked before Mira draped her cloak across her back.

  Taren said a silent thanks to Sabyl and retrieved his ring from the control panel. He wanted to give Ferret her privacy and some time to recover, so he descended the stairs, rejoining the others below.

  “Is she well?” Kulnor asked. He was munching on some salted meat while they waited.

  “Seems to be,” he replied, although he didn’t know for sure how she would feel, whether she would be her old self again or somehow changed after two transmutations. Lenantos had warned that using the tank resulted in variances, and he wondered what form those might take.

  Aninyel was scuffing the toe of one boot nervously at the catwalk. The elf clearly was unnerved by the unnatural environs—more so than any of them, he suspected, although she did her best not to show it.

  “Looking forward to returning home?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “I am indeed. This has proven a most interesting challenge, Taren, although one I have no desire to repeat.” A smile teased her lips, which he returned.

  After a few minutes, Mira descended the steps, followed by Ferret and lastly Creel. Ferret had donned her clothing, though her slim form swam in the oversized garments, which had been suited to her much bulkier metal form. She reminded Taren of when he’d first met her, a scrawny youth dressed in ragged, ill-fitting clothing.

  “How are ye feelin’, lass?” Kulnor asked.

  “Like trampled shite, but I’ll take that any day over feeling like nothing.” Her voice was weak, but Taren was encouraged.

  Ferret came right over to Taren and gave him another embrace, one that squeezed the breath out of him, seemingly every bit as powerful as before. “Thank you,” she whispered into his chest. She was trembling from her experience, and he returned her embrace.

  “I’m so glad it worked.”

  “Aye, me too.” She wiped some moisture from her eyes before she looked up and grinned, and it was then he noticed her eyes—they were human orbs once more yet had retained their violet color. Although the hue was subtler than before, and her eyes no longer glowed, they were quite striking.

  “What is it?” she asked, stiffening when she saw his expression.

  “Your eyes… They’ve changed color.”

  Ferret blinked, obviously wishing she could see them somehow.

  “Here,” Aninyel said. She drew her curved sword and held up the shiny surface of the blade to catch Ferret’s reflection.

  “Ack, my hair!” She ran a hand over her smooth head and scowled. Then she peered closer at her reflection and studied her eyes.

  “I rather like the color,” Taren admitted. “Quite fetching, really.”

  “There you go. Approval from a handsome man.” Aninyel winked at Taren.

  “You really think it looks nice?” Ferret asked dubiously.

  “I do.”

  “I like the change as well.” Creel clapped a hand on her shoulder.

  “That settles it, then,” Aninyel said.

  “Huh. Incongruity, I reckon?” Ferret asked.

  “Seems that way,” Taren said.

  “Too bad it didn’t give me a cute nose or a pair of nice round tits.” Her lip curled with the jest.

  All of them laughed at that, Ferret included, and the tension subsided.

  She’s got her sense of humor back—that’s a good sign.

  Creel chuckled. “Get some meat on your bones, lass, and that might help with the latter.”

  “I am fairly ravenous,” Ferret admitted. Her hand shot out and snatched away Kulnor’s piece of salted meat from his hand. “Mmm… I almost forgot what it’s like to taste food. Hand over the flask, Dak.”

  Creel raised an eyebrow but complied.

  Ferret took a long drink. She coughed, eyes watering, and returned the flask. “Whew, that’ll take some getting used to.”

  “Here, ye’ll be wantin’ some more meat,” Kulnor offered, handing her several strips. “Those spirits will wreak havoc on a skinny little thing like ye on an empty belly.”

  Taren felt a great weight lift off his shoulders while Ferret gorged herself on salted meat, along with some dried fruit and nuts Aninyel offered her. He and Mira exchanged a smile, then he sat down on the steps, relieved.

  Ferret seems like herself again. At least I’ve been able to accomplish one good deed so far, by fulfilling my promise to her.

  He stifled a yawn as weariness settled over him after the trying day—perhaps more than one day, for he realized
he had no idea how long they had been away since having gated into the Hall of the Artificers.

  “Why don’t we find a place to rest?” he suggested. “I’m dead tired.”

  “Won’t get any argument here,” Kulnor replied.

  Ferret looked around and wrinkled her nose. “It stinks like dead fish in here.”

  “The odor is returning,” Aninyel said. “How about we make camp back in the first dome we entered? It’s a bit dryer and less fragrant.”

  With everyone in concurrence, the group gathered their gear. Creel took over lugging the obsidian bomb, and they went back up the tunnel to the first glass dome.

  The light seemed dimmer there, even though they must have been closer to the ocean’s surface.

  It must be dusk. Good time to make camp.

  They found a dry spot near the glass dome to one side of the circular chamber. Creel and Ferret volunteered to take first watch, so Taren set out his bedroll. By the time he lay down, he could barely keep his eyes open. Sleep swiftly followed.

  ***

  The leaky, dilapidated Shirak Research Station reminded Ferret of the dreadful Hall of the Artificers, especially since darkness had fallen outside. The dome was black overhead, the unfathomable weight of the sea pressing down on the rusting girders supporting the glass. Orange crystals lining the perimeter of the chamber provided the only illumination. Shirak had the same desolate sense of decay and hidden mystery as the Hall of the Artificers. Dripping water was persistent, the leaks numerous, as the sea strove to reclaim its domain drip by drip. That didn’t bother her as much as the unnerving metallic creaking and popping that occasionally gave her a start, sounds of the artificers’ creation losing its ages-old battle.

  Ferret and Creel had made a quick patrol of the area while the others were bedding down in the central dome. The submerged portal room remained dark and silent down the stairwell. The first tunnel leading to the collapsed dome was empty, as was the second one down to the laboratory.

  That left the last, unexplored tunnel. It led to yet another dome, the floor of which was covered in ankle-deep water. But this dome was more of an atrium, with a central common area beneath a glass ceiling. The walls were not glass but instead built of stone, three levels of small, regularly spaced rooms that must have been living quarters for the artificers who once resided there. To Ferret, the eerie stillness and dark, yawning doorways made her think of some great tomb complex. After a brief circuit, they found nothing inside the rooms save for detritus and the rusted iron frames of the inhabitants’ beds.