The Brothers' War

by Jeff Grubb

  …woke on the floor of the chamber. He was clutching half of the power stone in his hand. In the distance, Urza heard the tromp of metal feet against stone.

  * * *

  —

  This is what Mishra saw.

  Urza lunged forward, and Mishra looked up at him, but by the time he saw his brother’s face, stern and angry, the white glow had already consumed them both. All Mishra saw was Urza’s scowl. And then he was someplace else.

  It was indoors, inside a great hallway. This was unlike the smooth halls bored through the mountain, for the walls seemed to be made of lizard skin, black and pliable. He touched one of the walls, and it flinched. Mishra could see the entire passage ripple, almost as if it were sleeping all around him. The air was thick and moist.

  The hallway extended ahead of him forever. He turned around. The hallway extended ahead of him forever. He turned around again. The hallway extended ahead of him forever. He turned around one last time and headed down the endless hallway.

  His foot crunched against something, and he stepped back. Beneath his feet was a small toy made of gold. It was in the shape of a human figure, and irrationally Mishra wondered if Urza was somewhere near. And Tocasia—he remembered Tocasia had been with them just a moment ago. He looked at the figure, but it was no one he recognized. He had inadvertently broken off the figure’s arm, and the figure’s face was transfixed in a scream.

  The floor ahead was littered with small screaming figures. Some were humans, but there were elves and orcs, minotaurs and dwarves among them. He tried to move through them without stepping on them, but there were too many. Then he realized that even those figures that he was not stepping on wore screaming visages as well. Reassured that he was doing no additional damage and that the figurines were probably not alive, he pressed on, scattering the toys in his wake.

  Now there were alcoves on either side of him, each set with a dark mirror against the back. Mishra stopped at the first one and saw a human form. No, a humanoid form, naked. It seemed to twist as he looked at it, turning first into one race, then another, then a third. It was a statue, shaped from some dark stone, yet fluid. It reached the end of the series of transformations and began the sequence again.

  Mishra passed to the second mirror and saw another figure. This one was wearing armor, or what seemed to be armor. As it shifted from one form to another, Mishra realized the armor was part of the statue as well, perhaps even a part of the creature that the statue represented.

  Mishra felt a wave of excitement. Suddenly he knew what the machines back in the cavern were about. They could transform shapes of flesh and stone into other things. They could improve themselves. They could build things. He rushed to the next mirror, ignoring the golden toys at his feet.

  This was another shapechanging statue, but it had more armor than the one he’d seen previously. It had horns too, splaying backward across the top of its head like an antelope’s, not outward like those of a minotaur. It changed shape more slowly, and Mishra saw that the image’s flesh had grown leathery, resembling the walls around him. Dark bones jutted from its flesh and into the open air, like dark spires of power.

  Mishra passed to the next mirror. Here was but a single unchanging figure. Its flesh was black lizard skin broken by the sharp bones that erupted from its flesh. Its face was narrow and wolflike, and its open mouth was filled with razor-sharp teeth. Its eyes were closed, and atop its head a great pair of antelope horns reached impossibly backward. Around the horns was a nest of wormlike coils buried in the creature’s skull; they streamed backward like blood-colored tresses.

  Mishra stared at the creature in the dark mirror for a long time, waiting for it to change to another shape. But it remained an inert thing of black stone.

  Then the statue opened its eyes, and Mishra took a step back.

  They were living eyes—soft, wet, leaking blood at the edges. The eyes blinked, and the brow above them furrowed.

  Suddenly Mishra was aware that he was watching not an image but a living thing. And, worse yet, that thing was watching him.

  The being raised a hand and touched its chest. Mishra mirrored the action, touching his own chest. His fingers brushed against something smooth, and he looked down. Mounted in the center of his chest was a great gem, radiating a spectrum of colors. Forgetting the creature for a moment, he reached up and pulled the gemstone from his breast. It felt warm to the touch, almost comforting. The great jewel was carved in glittering facets around half of its surface, but along one side a large piece had been broken off, leaving a ragged juncture behind.

  The creature reached up and touched its side of the mirror. Despite himself, Mishra felt his own hand rise in response, as if he were the image and the creature now the original. He pressed his hand forward, almost touching the glass itself. The demon of metal, bone, and leather smiled.

  Someone called his name. He was sure of it. Someone behind him called his name. He turned away from the mirror, from the dark creature behind it, suddenly caught up in a wave of brilliant white light, and…

  …woke on the floor of the chamber. He was clutching half of the power stone in his hand. In the distance Mishra heard the tromp of metal feet against stone.

  * * *

  —

  Tocasia stumbled toward the two brothers, who were slowly pulling themselves from the ground. Whatever they had done, the huge power stone had split in twain, and each brother held a portion of it. Unlike other cleaved stones Tocasia had found at the dig site, these gems retained their lambence and energy. They flickered with the power that still remained within. Each gem flashed with a range of colors, though Urza’s shone most often red, while Mishra’s glowed heavily green.

  Tocasia blinked and realized it was brighter in the chamber. The crystal plates along the ceiling were lighter now, and there were more flashes along the metal-plated walls.

  Urza was already at Mishra’s side. The younger brother shrugged off his elder’s offer of aid and stood on his own. He rocked slightly as he stood, as if his legs were new things to him.

  Urza’s face was as pale as a ghost’s, the colors of the fractured power stone playing across it. “What happened?” he gasped.

  Tocasia looked at the two brothers. They seemed woozy but relatively intact.

  “The power gem exploded,” she said. “You’ve got the fragments.”

  Mishra pointed at his brother. “It was his fault!”

  “I was trying to stop you!” Urza snapped.

  “Enough!” shouted Tocasia, her voice echoing off the walls. “Listen!”

  Both young men stopped for a moment and heard the slow, rhythmic tread of metal feet against stone. Numerous and uniform, the footsteps were heavy and relentless. And they were getting closer.

  Shapes appeared at the far end of the chamber. Tocasia did not remember a door being there before the explosion; perhaps there hadn’t been. There was an opening now, she realized, and through it came a half-dozen titanic shapes.

  Su-chi, the guardians of the Thran, with their lupine faces and backward-mounted knees. For all their hulking, twisted structure, they could move fast, though. They bore down on the trio.

  “Flee!” shouted Tocasia.

  “No,” said Urza. “I think I can handle this.” His gem seemed to glow brighter as he spoke, and he held the bauble in front of him. A single beam of ruby light shone from the edges of the stone and lanced across the room, bathing the six oversized mechanisms. They hesitated, drinking in the radiance. Then they moved forward again.

  “They’re moving faster!” shouted Tocasia. “Whatever you did made them stronger!”

  “Then we flee,” said Urza.

  Mishra raised his own stone, but Urza slapped his brother’s arm down. “We tried it, and it doesn’t work. Don’t make matters worse!” He ran, following Tocasia. Mishra raced behind them.

  All the stairs that they had descended were like cliffs now to be climbed again. Tocasia felt her muscles strain and cry out with e
ach flight, and her bones felt as if they were made of stone. By the end of the third set of stairs Tocasia was leaning on Urza’s shoulder for support. The su-chi were slower on the steps, but the creatures took them two at a time and were untiring.

  Tocasia glanced over her shoulder. The su-chi were catching up with them.

  At the top of the steps Mishra stopped, panting. Urza was in little better shape, and Tocasia felt as if she was going to pass out.

  “Perhaps…we can find something…to push down. Block…their path,” wheezed Urza.

  Mishra held up his stone again, but Urza shook his head, exhausted. “Doesn’t work. Makes them…stronger. Tried that.”

  Mishra was panting as well, but he forced his words out. “You tried. With…your stone. Let me try…mine.”

  Urza let out a shout, but the younger brother was faster. He raised the stone before him, and its rays arched down the steps. The light from this gem did not pass through the air in straight lines; rather it bent in arching curves tinged with a greenish glow.

  The light struck the lead su-chi in midstride, as it was climbing a step. The artifact, vigorous and healthy a moment before, now sagged noticeably, as if the vitality had been suddenly leeched from it. It bent forward on the step. The creature behind it was taken by surprise and slipped backward, taking two more with it as it fell. The three collapsed in a pile on the landing, and only two of the figures rose again.

  “Didn’t stop them,” gasped Urza. “Told you.”

  “Slowed them down,” snapped Mishra.

  “Fight later,” said Tocasia, clutching the front of her robes. “Run now.”

  Tocasia’s chest felt as if it was on fire as they fled back down the corridors. Since there were no side passages, there was little chance of getting lost or of hiding. The crystalline plates along the ceiling were all illuminated, casting odd shadows as the explorers ran. Perhaps that was part of the guarding system for the Thran themselves, thought the old scholar. When someone entered and used the machines, the lights came on and the su-chi were roused from their slumber.

  In the alcoves they passed, Tocasia glimpsed other Thran artifacts. The machines struggled to mobilize themselves as well, but the passage of time was too great for them. A metal arm rose in mute protest as Urza, Mishra, and Tocasia passed. A lupine head of dark blue metal spun toward them and hissed. At one point, the lower torso of a su-chi, backward knees and all, lurched from its alcove, bereft of an upper body. Urza pushed Tocasia behind him, but Mishra brought his stone up. A jade-green lancet of power arced forward, and the remains of the creature exploded, the legs falling in different directions. They ran past the metal corpse; in the back of her mind Tocasia discovered a moment of regret that they had not the time to examine the creature more thoroughly.

  The pursuing su-chi were out of sight, but the old scholar could still hear their clattering tread, the whir of the mechanisms within their chests, and the clank of their joints. Ahead there was another growing brightness—this one natural. They had reached the entrance and were safe.

  Urza held out an arm across the passage, catching both Tocasia and Mishra, who let out a low curse. The older brother pointed with his other hand to the entrance.

  A shadow moved across the sand in front of the cavern’s mouth. Something large was waiting for them.

  Tocasia looked back for a sign of the pursuing su-chi, as both brothers crept forward. The roc was perched directly above the lip of the cavern, like an owl waiting above a rodent’s hole for its prey to appear. Urza cursed.

  “Let me try,” said Mishra, holding out his stone. This time Urza did not stop him.

  Mishra edged forward to get a clear shot at the roc with his stone. Urza stayed directly behind him. Mishra held his half of the gem aloft, and the greenish arcing light, visible even in the daylight outside, burst forward and streaked up toward the roc. The great bird let out a tremendous shriek. It took to flight, fluttering about a hundred yards away to a large, rocky spur, where it settled again. The greenish rays followed it but did no additional damage.

  “Fall, damn you! Fall!” muttered Mishra through clenched teeth.

  “You’re weakening it,” said Urza, “but it’s too big to fall. Too tough.”

  “Company coming,” said Tocasia briefly. Far off in the distance was the clatter of the approaching su-chi.

  “Between the desert and the deep, briny sea.” Mishra quoted an old desert saying.

  Urza stared at the remains of the metal spider’s nest at the foot of the hill. “Mishra, take Tocasia and run for the ornithopter. Don’t stop running until you get there.”

  “But the roc—” began Mishra.

  “Let the roc be my problem,” said Urza and leapt forward into the sunlight.

  Tocasia protested, but Mishra had already grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her after him. Mishra’s fingers were like a vise around her arm, and she had little choice but to follow. The lights behind them already reflected off the blue metal of the su-chi’s skulls.

  The roc was aloft as soon as Urza appeared, swooping back on titanic wings to its perch over the cavern’s mouth. Its vulturelike beak snaked down to snare the young man, but Urza was too fast for it. In a moment he was among the remnants of the bronze spider things that littered the base of the cliff.

  Tocasia was half-guided, half-dragged by Mishra toward the ornithopter. Halfway there they dodged behind a large boulder for cover. Two pairs of eyes looked around the boulder’s edge for any sign of Urza.

  “What is that fool doing?” whispered Mishra. They saw Urza dart among the half-buried wreckage of the spiders, then disappear.

  Tocasia put her hand to her chest and caught her breath. Urza was among the wrecked bronze metal spiders, she saw. His half of the stone seemed to function differently than Mishra’s gem. “He’s going…” She stopped and gulped. Her mouth felt as if it were lined with metal. “He’s going to try to get one of those spiders to work. But why…?”

  The rest of her statement was lost in a titanic throbbing hum from beneath their feet, and one of the reddish-gold spiders lurched from its sandy tomb. The sand poured away from it like water, and Tocasia saw that the spider’s armor was shredded in a half-dozen places and the creature was missing most of its forward legs. Through the peeled side plates she could see Urza frantically pulling levers and pressing buttons. There was a reddish glow around him, giving the steam that poured out of the beast’s sides a hellish aura.

  “He’s powering it with the stone,” said Mishra. “He’s fitted his stone into the machine. It must make artifacts stronger.”

  “No. The stone’s in his hand,” corrected Tocasia. “But you’re right. He’s using that stone to make the machine more powerful, to enhance whatever power it has.”

  “Whatever,” grunted Mishra, pointing toward the opening. “He’s running out of time. Look!” At the entrance to the cavern were the remaining su-chi, lurching into the sunlight.

  The turret on the spider’s back gave a high-pitched metallic rasp as it spun on grit-filled cogs and brought about a long, dangerous-looking barrel. Tocasia knew at once it was a weapon.

  The roc screeched and leapt forward to pit the tasty morsel from its shell like a sea gull eating a crab. Tocasia heard Urza shout something unintelligible, and the barrel spat flame. The resounding thunder of the weapon as it fired rattled through the canyon of Koilos.

  The flame caught the roc in the center of its chest, igniting its feathers and engulfing its body in flames. The great winged beast tried to fly, but the fire was insidious, creeping along the roc’s wings and setting them alight as the creature raised them. For an instant the roc became the phoenix of Fallaji legend, bathed in flame. But instead of rising like the mythical bird, the roc fell, plummeting to the canyon floor below.

  The great bird fell directly in front of the cavern mouth where the su-chi now stood. The weakened creatures had time to look up, and Tocasia heard a sharp metallic whining noise that might have been a scream
. Then the massive body of the flaming roc smashed down on them, crushing them utterly.

  There was another screech, this one sharper, more high pitched. It came from the rusted and torn metal spider with which Urza had defeated their opponents. The steam that had surrounded the craft now became black smoke; flames and sparks licked the craft’s framework. Urza had climbed loose of the device and was running. Tocasia noticed he cradled the reddish gem against his chest.

  The whining noise from the spider became higher. It reached a pitch that almost split Tocasia’s brain. Then, with a crescendo of thunder, the metal spider exploded. The noise of the blast reverberated from the cliff sides and was answered a few seconds later by echoes farther up the canyon.

  Urza staggered up to the others. Tocasia checked the cavern’s entrance, but all that was visible were the smoking remains of the roc.

  “That takes care of that,” said Urza. His face and hair were streaked with soot, and he smelled of burnt leather and metal.

  “You were lucky,” said Mishra with a frown.

  “We all were lucky,” said Tocasia. “Lucky to find this place, lucky to escape the roc. Lucky to escape the caverns without perishing. Now let us be sufficiently lucky to get back home.”

  “You were lucky,” repeated Mishra to his brother.

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” replied Urza, a surly note in his voice. “I thought I knew what those spider things did, and I had the power to make a difference. It was fast planning, perhaps, but not luck.”

  “You had no idea,” pressed Mishra. “You accidentally made the guardians stronger with the power of the stone.”

  “One learns from one’s mistakes,” said Urza, shrugging. “At least I do. You keep making new mistakes all the time.”

  “Boys,” cautioned Tocasia, “this isn’t the time for this.”

  “I beat the su-chi with my stone!” snapped Mishra.