Orcs: Inferno

by Stan Nicholls

  “We don’t know what we’re letting ourselves in for,” Stryke told them. “So no matter how bad the crossing is we’ve got to be ready to fight the instant we arrive… wherever.” He nodded at Dynahla.

  The fetch clipped the last star into place.

  No matter how often they made a crossing, and for all their indifference to fear, they found the experience profoundly disturbing.

  Having endured what felt like an endless, dizzying drop down a well made of multicoloured lights, they met hard solidity.

  Most of the band were shaken but ready to fight. Some, principally Standeven, Wheam and a couple of the tyros, were less composed. But even they, ashen-faced and nauseous, were quickly if unsteadily on their feet.

  They stood on a flat, bleak plain. A sharp wind blew, stirring up a grey substance, more like ash than soil or sand, that covered the ground. Here and there, great slabs of black rock jutted out of it. The rocks seemed to be vitrified, as though some unimaginable heat had melted them, making them flow like liquid before cooling.

  Above, the sky had a dour, greenish tint. The sun, a sickly red, looked no bigger than a coin held at arm’s length. It was cold, and the air was bad, not unlike the way it stank when a thousand funeral pyres had been lit after a battle.

  There was no sign of Jennesta’s force, or any other living thing, including trees, vegetation or animals.

  On the horizon there was something that looked like a city. Even in the weak sunlight it appeared to be crystalline. But it was wrong. Many of its numerous towers were truncated, resembling broken teeth, or leaned at crazy angles.

  The band gaped at it.

  It took Haskeer to mouth what they were all thinking. “Where the fuck are we?”

  “Somewhere pretty damn grim,” Coilla said, buttoning her jerkin against the chill.

  “It doesn’t matter where we are,” Stryke told them. “The point is, where’s Jennesta? Dynahla, you sure you haven’t brought us to the wrong place?”

  “No. She’s here.”

  “Any idea where, exactly?”

  “From my own abilities, no. The psychic charge here is too… murky to be specific. But that seems the obvious place.” He nodded towards the city.

  Stryke gave the order and they headed its way.

  It was a much longer march than it first appeared, making them realise how large the city really was, and the ashen terrain was hard going underfoot. But the powdery blanket turned out to have one advantage. When they were about halfway to their destination, as far as they could judge, they spotted tracks in it. They led in the direction of the city.

  “Human,” Jup announced, kneeling by them, “and more than one set. Has to be her.”

  Stryke nodded. “Let’s keep moving. And eyes peeled.”

  They trudged on, warily.

  Before they reached the city the tracks petered out, erased by the wind. But they had no doubt of their destination.

  Shortly after, they arrived at the outskirts. Even before it fell into ruin it would have been like no place of habitation they had ever seen. Much of its architecture was inexplicable to them. There were sleek structures lacking doors or windows, buildings in the shape of spirals or cubes, or crowned with pyramids. The remains of one edifice was smothered in strange decorative symbols. Another took the form of a cone, its angles so acute that nobody could possibly have lived in it. They saw the remnants of signs in a completely incomprehensible language, if it was a language, and toppled objects that might have been statues, except they were insanely abstract. And when they looked closer, and ran their fingers over walls and pillars and fallen cornices, they discovered they were fashioned from no materials they knew.

  For as far as they could see, the city was deserted, and in ruins. The evidence of decay was everywhere, with crumbling walls, cracks spider-webbing buildings and fissures disfiguring the avenues. But there were signs of more violent destruction, too, in the form of ragged apertures, sheered spires and pockmarks that looked as though they had been made by incredibly powerful projectiles. Charred debris and unmistakable traces of smoke damage in some areas showed that flames had played their part.

  “This place makes no sense,” Spurral said. “What kind of creatures could have lived here?”

  “And what put an end to them?” Jup wondered.

  “A war?” Dallog speculated. “Or nature rising up and turning on them with an earthquake, or—”

  “Could have been the gods,” Gleadeg reckoned darkly, “upset in some way.”

  “No point trying to figure it,” Stryke said. “Let’s keep to why we’re here.”

  Coilla cupped her eyes and scanned the scene. “It’s vast. Where do we go?”

  Stryke turned to Jup. “How do you feel about trying farsight?”

  “Sure.” He got down on his knees and wormed his hand into the ash. Eyes closed, he stayed that way for a moment. “Bugger that!” He leapt up, waving his hand about as though it had been burnt.

  “What is it?” Spurral asked anxiously.

  “The energy’s fouled. It’s even worse than Maras-Dantia.”

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” He took a breath, calming himself. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Whatever happened here, the magic or weapons used, has tainted this place,” Dynahla said.

  “Don’t suppose you got a hint of anything, did you, Jup?” Stryke wondered.

  “Not a thing. Sorry, chief.”

  Haskeer elbowed his way to the front. “So what now, Stryke?”

  “We’ll form squads and start searching.”

  “That’ll take for ever.”

  “You got a better idea?”

  “Stryke,” Coilla said.

  “What?”

  She pointed at a jumble of half-collapsed buildings. “I saw something move.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think I did too,” Pepperdyne added.

  “Weapons,” Stryke ordered. They all drew their blades and he led them towards the sighting.

  Moving guardedly, they reached the spot. There was nothing to be seen except devastation. They rooted around a bit in the rubble, but fruitlessly.

  “You two are imagining things,” Haskeer grumbled, glaring at Coilla and Pepperdyne.

  “I don’t think so,” Coilla replied evenly.

  “Ssshhh!” Jup waved them into silence and nodded at an area a little farther along, where heaps of clutter were shrouded in darkness.

  Faint noises were coming from it. Scratching and rustling, and the sound of rubble being dislodged.

  Stryke at their head, the band quietly moved forward. Again, they found nothing, and the sounds had stopped. But they noticed a narrow passageway, formed by the sides of two adjacent buildings, and at its end there was a faint light. They entered it. As they walked the passage the light grew stronger. When they emerged at its far end, they saw its source.

  They came out to an open space that might originally have been some kind of public square. It was strewn with junk, and the scene was illuminated by a number of fires scattered about the place. The flames threw shadows on the walls of the surrounding buildings left standing.

  “Where the hell’s Jennesta?” Coilla complained.

  “She’s here somewhere,” Dynahla assured her. “You can count on it.”

  “What I don’t get,” Pepperdyne said, “is why these fires haven’t burnt out long since. What’s to feed them?”

  “I’m more concerned with whatever that is,” Stryke told him. He was staring straight ahead.

  A shape crept out of the dark at the far end of the wrecked plaza. As it moved into the flickering light they got a better look. It wasn’t Jennesta or one of her followers, as they half expected. It was a beast. But of a kind they had never encountered before.

  At first sight, some thought it was feline, others canine. In fact, the creature seemed to be a blend of both, and in several respects it was almost insectoid. Standing about waist
-high to an orc, it had six legs, ending in lengthy, horn-like talons. Its pelt was a yellowish-brown. The brute’s head resembled a lion’s, except it lacked a mane and had a much more extended snout. There was a wide, fang-filled mouth, and instead of two eyes there were six, ruby red.

  The band remained stock still, watching the thing, braced for an attack. But although it seemed aware of them, its interest was elsewhere. Letting out a throaty snort, it made its way to the biggest of the fires. Then, to the orcs’ astonishment, it thrust its head into the flames and began lapping at them.

  “My gods,” Coilla exclaimed, “it’s drinking the fire.”

  “How can that be?” Jup said.

  “Anything’s possible in an infinite number of worlds,” Dynahla told them.

  Two more of the animals came out of the shadows. Joining the first, they too gulped the flames, the trio snapping and snarling at each other as though squabbling over a kill.

  Haskeer looked on in stupefaction. “They must have hides tough as steel.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Pepperdyne said.

  His wish was pertinent. Having supped their fill, the creatures turned their attention to the band. Their multiple crimson eyes held a malignant intensity.

  Coilla went “Uh-uh.”

  The fire-eaters charged.

  One of them, in the lead, opened its massive jaws and belched a plume of flame. The orcs in its path scattered, narrowly avoiding a roasting.

  “Now we know what keeps the fires going,” Coilla said. “They do!”

  She and Pepperdyne leapt aside to avoid another creature that singled them out. It swerved and, spitting fire, galloped after the fleeing pair. They made for one of the ruined buildings bordering the square.

  Stryke and Haskeer barely dodged incineration from the beast targeting them. The flame it spewed flew over their ducked heads and seared a nearby wall. They set to weaving about the creature and harassing it as best they could. Jup and Spurral joined them, along with Hystykk and Gleadeg.

  The rest of the band was tackling the third fire-breather, their greater number allowing them to surround it. They were attacking from a distance, employing arrows and spears, though many of their projectiles bounced off its hardened skin, and they had to retreat periodically as it spat gouts of flame.

  To no one’s great surprise, Standeven didn’t get involved. He scurried off to cower behind a pile of masonry slabs.

  Adding to the confusion, a fourth creature turned up and darted towards the fray. Dallog spotted it and shouted an order. He and the tyros, Wheam, Chuss, Keick and Pirrak, peeled off and ran to meet it.

  Stryke and his crew were making progress in frustrating their opponent if not actually overcoming it. When it turned away from them and loped off they thought it had been beaten. But it stopped at the nearest fire, supped there, and came back at them.

  “The fire doesn’t last!” Stryke yelled. “They have to renew it!”

  They knew what to do. Jup, Spurral and the two grunts moved to block the creature’s access to the replenishing fires. After that it was a case of staying out of its way and landing blows when they could. Before long, the beast exhausted its flame. Its fangs and claws meant it was still a formidable challenge, but a less dangerous one. They moved in on it, hacking with their blades. A swing from Stryke sliced across the brawny chest, causing the head to dip, and Haskeer brought his axe down on its skull, cracking it open. The creature collapsed and lay twitching, tiny puffs of flame huffing from its nostrils.

  “The bastards can stick their faces in fire but they ain’t unkillable,” Haskeer announced triumphantly.

  The band members fighting the second beast had also noticed that it needed to refresh its flame and followed the example of Stryke’s group. They were busy parting its head from its writhing body with a series of brutal strokes.

  As they all rushed to aid Dallog and the tyros with their kill, Stryke looked around. “Anybody see where Coilla and Pepperdyne went?”

  Jup shook his head.

  Running full pelt, the heat from the fire-breather practically scorching their backs, Coilla and Pepperdyne found an open doorway. Open but two-thirds blocked. Urgency sharpening their agility, they managed to wriggle through. The bulky creature got its head and part of its upper body in but struggled furiously to get any further. It vented its fury with blasts of flame. They quickly retreated into the building and only just avoided them.

  The interior was a complete shambles. But there was some light other than that coming from the fire-breather. It came from a small opening, possibly a window, set about halfway up the far wall. A sloping mound of rubble that had probably come in through the aperture made a natural ramp leading to it.

  “Think we could get through that?” Pepperdyne asked.

  Coilla nodded. “It’d be tight, but yeah, I think so.”

  The creature gave another blast that lit up the room. It afforded a brief glimpse of the chaos and some of the strange objects strewn about, which could have been the remains of curiously designed furniture.

  “So let’s get out of here,” she urged.

  “Hang on.”

  Above the door, and over the probing creature’s head, was a large quantity of wreckage, including blocks of something like stone. All that supported it was a couple of uprights. To Pepperdyne, the whole thing looked tenuous.

  Coilla followed his gaze and guessed what was on his mind. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking that could bring the whole place down on us.”

  “I reckon we could get away with it.”

  “Why bother when we can just get out through that?” She jabbed a thumb at the window.

  “It wouldn’t solve the problem. What’s to stop this monster circling round and waiting for us outside?”

  Coilla weighed the odds. “All right. Let’s do it.”

  “Good. You climb up to the window and I’ll take care of it.”

  “No way. We’re doing this together.”

  “It won’t take two of us. Look at the state of those uprights. One good kick and—”

  “I’m not some helpless female, Jode, and don’t you dare treat me like one!”

  Regardless of their plight he almost laughed. “I’d never make the mistake of seeing you that way, Coilla. It’s just practical. If something goes wrong we’d both be in trouble. Better one of us is clear to help if needed.”

  The creature at the door grew more frantic. It sent in another sheet of flame.

  She nodded. “You take care, mind.” Then she edged her way to the pile of rubble and started scrabbling up it.

  Pepperdyne waited until she reached the window and called, “Can we get through?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, “I’m pretty sure we can.”

  He turned back to the door. To reach the uprights he had to get nearer to the furious creature than he liked. He considered pelting them with chunks of debris, but knew that wouldn’t do the job. So he started sliding towards them on his back, legs first. When he got as close as he dared, he gave one of the supports a hefty kick. It let out a loud snap and fell away. Crablike, Pepperdyne hastily retreated. But nothing happened. It was obvious that the other upright was the only thing holding up the tremendous weight above the door.

  The frenzied creature was still trying to force itself into the too small opening, and let out a further gush of flame. It didn’t reach Pepperdyne, but he felt the heat through the soles of his boots. He shuffled forward again, aiming for the remaining prop. A powerful kick had no effect on it, so he pounded at it with his foot. The repeated impacts started to tell. A creaking sound came every time he hit it, and the post started to shake.

  The upright suddenly gave with a resounding crack. Pepperdyne rolled aside, his hands instinctively covering his face. The debris collapsed with a thunderous roar. Tons of wreckage came down on the creature’s head and upper body, instantly crushing it to pulp and disgorging its sticky, green life fluid.

  The whole structure didn
’t cave in, as they feared it might, but a cloud of dust filled the room.

  “You all right, Jode?” Coilla shouted anxiously.

  He didn’t answer right away, and when he did it was only after a coughing fit and having to spit the muck out of his mouth. “I’m… fine.”

  Getting to his feet, he climbed up the rubble slope, taking Coilla’s outstretched hand. She pulled him the last few steps and they squeezed out of the window. There was just a short drop to the ground.

  They found their way back to the square without much trouble. The rest of the band was there, along with the bloody corpses of the fire-breathers. Standeven had come out of hiding and looked on pasty-faced.

  “Been off for a spot of canoodling?” Haskeer taunted, raising a ragged laugh from some of the grunts.

  Coilla and Pepperdyne ignored him.

  “I was about to send a search party for you two,” Stryke said.

  “We’re all right,” Coilla told him. “Any sign of Jennesta?”

  “No.” He shot a critical glance Dynahla’s way. “I’m starting to think—”

  Right on cue, one of the privates yelled, “Over there!”

  They all turned. At the far end of the square, near the point where the creatures had emerged, stood a group of figures. Jennesta was at the forefront, and Thirzarr could be made out beside her.

  Stryke began running towards them, the band close behind. He called out to Thirzarr.

  Jennesta’s hands moved. She and her force vanished.

  “I think we saw that coming,” Coilla remarked, arriving at Stryke’s side.

  “Dynahla!” he bellowed.

  The shape-changer had the instrumentalities out and was manipulating them. Swiftly, the band gathered together.

  “Here we go again,” Jup said.

  Dynahla slapped the final star into place and their surroundings disappeared.

  20

  They came to a place quite unlike the one they had just left.

  It was pleasantly mild. The air was clear, the sky blue, the terrain green and abundant.

  They were on high ground. A pastoral scene was spread out before them. Rolling hills, lush grassland, copses, forests, a placid lake, and the distant sparkle of a meandering river. Meadows and hedged fields were evidence of cultivation, but there was no sign of buildings. However, there was a well-made road, surfaced with compacted earth. In one direction it ran straight and open for as far as they could see. In the other it soon came to a bend at woodland and disappeared.