Death without Direction: A Modern Sword and Sorcery Serial (A Battleaxe and a Metal Arm Book 1)

by Samuel Fleming

  Outside, the faint chattering of fishmen stopped.

  “We are out of time,” Taunauk said. He stowed his axe on his backsling and crouched behind one of the large statues by the door. He roared in exertion and the statue toppled over, crashing horridly on the floor but blocking the lower half of the entrance. Taunauk ran and did the same with the second statue. This time it crashed on top of the first and though it leaned, it blocked the majority of the entryway.

  The faeries whirled around Taunauk in impotent anger and he battered them away.

  Helesys felt a pang of guilt, but turned back to the puzzle of the water pipes. There would be time later to beg forgiveness. If they survived. If she could even remember a god to atone to.

  The elf’s hands set upon the stone plates, looking for curves in the piping. The more curves she could piece together, the longer the piping, the more water would fill the piping and the more it would counterbalance the door. If her theory was correct. But it was not as simple a matter as she hoped, for the curves of one plate did not match the curves of another and so she could not simply turn the plates to the most curved positions.

  “Stercus,” she mumbled in frustration. The slip was Elvish though the exact meaning escaped her.

  Footsteps on the stone. Chattering in the entryway. The grunt of a barbarian. A dull chop and the scrape of axeblade on stone. Metal on metal. Helesys didn’t dare look back, but she knew they were upon them, teeth gnashing in a frenzy of revenge.

  The elf’s mind raced, looking over the stone circles and the dozens—hundreds—of combinations. Only needing to be close enough that the barbarian’s animal strength could take care of the rest.

  She turned the stone circles one last time, satisfied with the positioning. She could no longer hear the dull clank of gears behind the wall over the ferocity swelling behind her, but she knew that this was one of the longest combinations of piping. It would have to do.

  “Arrows!” Taunauk cried out.

  Helesys dove to the right, half sprawling and half splashing across the floor. She heard the clinking of arrowheads hit the door where she had been standing.

  She rose and hugged the wall to get to Taunauk. The toppled stone statues had not blocked the entryway perfectly and so fishmen were trying to clamber over and through an opening on the upper left. The little that Helesys could see beyond was filled with gnashing teeth and spears. The barbarian was chopping at anything that peered through, be it arm or head. Bodies were piling up in front of the opening as those in the back pushed their fellow fishmen through without patience or remorse. Taunauk alternated his assault on the opening with splitting injured fishmen that were pushed through and had fallen on the ground. Faeries clung to the upper corners of the room.

  “Try the door, Taunauk,” Helesys shouted over the fray. “I will cover you.”

  Her gauntlet whirred to life, the arcane mechanisms leeching power from the wand, burning with potential. The elf stepped out into the middle of the stone room and raised her wand-arm. Electricity crackled between her fingers and the purple arcane violence erupted.

  The fishman crawling over the statue flashed with purple and exploded in chunks of scale and red. The blast passed through the entire hallway, and flashed purple and then red. The squelch of flesh being torn apart echoed through the stone hall and for a moment there was deathly silence. Helesys saw nothing but blood soaked stone through the opening.

  A long scraping of stone behind her. She turned and saw the barbarian lifting the carved stone door. Taunauk strained, crouched and shouldered the stone door, finally standing all the way up with it.

  Helesys needed no invitation.

  As she ran to the door, she heard the gnashing of teeth and footsteps of dozens more fishmen pouring into the hallway.

  Beyond that she heard the echoes of thunder and felt the stone beneath her feet shake—not thunder—something massive. Something the fishmen kept locked in the cage that stretched from the floor to ceiling of the rusted prison.

  Helesys stopped just under the stone door. Taunauk breathed steadily, but clearly strained with the stone upon his shoulder.

  “Be ready to drop the door,” she told him. He nodded.

  Helesys reached around the door to the stone discs and spun the closest plate with her metal hand, resetting the progress she had made. She heard the faint clank of gears inside the wall of the hallway. She spun a second.

  “No more!” Taunauk grunted in protest. “I cannot—”

  —Helesys commanded her gauntlet one last time to fire and a blast of magic shattered the plates and scorched the wall. With any luck it would stop their inhuman pursuers.

  “Drop it,” Helesys said as she retreated back into the hallway. The last thing she saw was the crazed teeth of the fishmen as they poured into the room.

  Taunauk dropped the door and it crashed shut, leaving them in the dark.

  ~ ~ ~

  The Drowned Temple

  They had made it to the salvation of a short, dark hallway. The gnashing of the fishmen and the rumbling steps of whatever creature they commanded were muted behind tons of stone. The door had come down on the fringe of Helesys’s robe, which she cut free with her knife.

  Then the pair pressed forward, trying to put distance between themselves and the crazed fishmen. If there was any luck to be had in this blasted place, the fishmen would not be able to follow.

  The short hallway was the same pitted stone and knee-deep gray water—but it was only short compared to the mile-long stretches they had passed through initially. Helesys followed just behind Taunauk and to his right side, giving her wand-arm a clean line-of-sight.

  Meanwhile she kept glancing back the way they came, fearing that the fishmen would return in force. They were so far in the hall that the elf could no longer see the door from which they started. Even if they had a torch, the light would only reach so far. No screeches or splashing came from that direction—no sound at all—and she saw no silhouettes or bulging eyes across the water, yet her concern persisted.

  Her gauntlet would be some help in the confined space, but there was no telling the limits of its energy… She doubted it would be enough to withstand the mass of fishmen they had seen on the stone steps.

  Helesys pictured the violence again and the gruesome aftermath of her metal arm. It… It did not bother her much at all. She was an intruder here and in seeking asylum had very likely stumbled into a sacred place. The fishmen, gruesome as they looked, might have only been defending themselves and their home. Yet those facts did not give her pause, nor did the violence. The elf shuddered from the cold and not from anything else. That must have spoken to the Terran that she was before she lost her memory. ...One numb to such violence.

  ~

  Helesys and Taunauk left small ripples in their wake that traveled down the hallway and to the end of her vision in the gloom. She was never quite assuaged that those ripples at the edge of her vision were merely ripples of their passing and not something more sinister.

  Blessedly, they were nearing the end.

  From around the side of the barbarian, Helesys saw an end to the hallway and a soft glow beyond. Running water. Taunauk slowed to steady silence as they approached and she followed just behind.

  At the mouth of the hallway they saw another room, this time gigantic and vaulted. Intermittent columns littered the room, supporting the massive spread. Each column was nearly ten paces in diameter—wider than Taunauk—and adorned with torches. The room sprawled out over one hundred yards to either side and even further directly across—so far that even with the intermittent torchlight it was hard to gauge the distance. The persistent flooding continued as far as Helesys could see.

  The ceiling rose up and up, the full height of which she couldn’t be sure of. The torches that lit the room only adorned the columns up thirty paces or so, giving the columns the illusion of rising up into an abyss.

  All across the room, trickles of water dripped down from the ceiling and s
plashed into the knee-deep flooding. Were they not just underground but underwater as well?

  “We found the source of the flooding,” Helesys whispered. “Perilous place to build.”

  “Most strange—look.” Something caught Taunauk’s eye and he pointed out across the great room.

  Helesys crept forward and saw in the distance a swirling waterspout—or so it seemed at first. It could only have been a little taller than Taunauk. Tiny compared to the massive room, but nearly as thick as the columns. As it passed from behind the pillars and back out into the open, the sound of running water grew louder. The pair watched the waterspout for several minutes as it wandered aimlessly around columns.

  There was no wind. Not even a breeze. The air of the great room was eerily still.

  Then the waterspout groaned and shook. At first Helesys thought the sound had come from the columns and had been caused by some unseen shifting of water above the ceiling but then it happened again and there was no mistaking the source. The sound echoed through the cavern like the wooden groan of floorboards. Then twice the waterspout writhed with the sound, its swirling form pausing and becoming a silhouette of shoulders and a head.

  A flash of light from its center—an object trapped within the creature.

  Both realizations came suddenly, inherently: That the water phenomena was a living creature and that its soundings were cries of pain. Helesys knew not how she knew it, but the urge to help the creature welled up in her nonetheless.

  She glanced to her massive companion. “Do you hear its pain?”

  Taunauk nodded. “Do you know what the creature is?”

  Helesys shook her head in frustration. “I do not, but it is clearly elemental in nature. ...I don’t feel the same apprehension I did with the fishmen.”

  “Nor do I.” The barbarian sighed, as if contemplating a plan. “Instinct can be powerful,” he added, “But so can a creature in pain. Be weary of a wounded animal.”

  “I’ll lead this time,” Helesys said. “My magic will be more effective than your axe.” The elf walked forward without giving him a chance to reply. She was a few steps out into the open air of the room before she looked back, just to be sure.

  Taunauk was behind her. The nearby torchlight cast an enormous shadow behind him that made him appear to fill the room.

  “I hope you’re right,” he whispered.

  ~

  Helesys’s heart was beating in her throat as they approached the water elemental. It spun and wandered the room, its path never certain and yet rhythmic, like it was following some incomprehensible waltz. Its sporadic wails echoed off of the stone and water.

  Though the creature’s shape was amorphous and swirling, the elf was able to predict its movements by watching the glint of the object embedded in the creature. She could see now that the shiny object in the center was a metal disc. Even more, in spite of the swirling body of water, the metal disk inside stayed still when the creature moved forward and turned only when the creature deviated its path. Helesys felt the metal disk was likely the source of its pain.

  All the while, she had nearly forgotten about the cold that seeped into her legs and into her body—except for when she passed too close to a drizzle of water from the ceiling. The shock of cold water on her head and back made her wince.

  When they were nearly in the center of the room, and only thirty paces away from the creature, Helesys paused behind a column to collect herself. She had no plan and no way of knowing how the elemental would react to her presence. It wasn’t until she was nearly upon it that the realization dawned upon her that no fishmen were in this room—no creatures at all. Had they known the danger the wounded elemental posed?

  The elven weaver steeled herself. They were too close and Helesys knew that she should help the creature.

  “Stay behind me,” Helesys whispered, “in case this goes to stercus.” The curse felt versatile enough that the barbarian would understand her meaning. She walked cautiously up to the elemental, which had paused its waltz.

  The arcane gears in her arm whirred to life, the energy of the wand within rippling with latent energy—Helesys ignored the weapon. With any luck she would not need it.

  The water elemental sensed her approach. Its swirling form slowed as if the liquid was freezing solid and the metal disk in the center turned a quarter revolution.

  Helesys stopped and was about ten paces from the creature, watching spellbound as its attention fell upon her. She had not forgotten about the familiar hum of power within her arm, but it did not bring the same comfort it had during her encounter with the fishmen. It would not be a decisive display of power, but perhaps it would be enough for her to survive to regret her decision.

  The metal disk ceased turning, the swirling water of the elemental’s body increased speed again—back to normal.

  Helesys sensed the creature staring at her, though it had no eyes with which to do so. Then she heard its wail, like the sound of groaning floorboards. It resonated through the air and through the water, rippling its surface. The vibrations shook her lower legs—

  —but this time she heard a gravelly, inhuman voice. The words sounded in her head rather than in her ears.

  You are foolish.

  “You are hurt,” she replied.

  A few seconds later the water rippled with the elemental’s wail and Helesys heard the voice again in her head.

  I am.

  Then the disk within the creature turned and the elemental began to waltz away from her, but slow enough for her to walk beside it. Helesys kept the creature in the corner of her eye and followed.

  Helesys sensed some small victory in speaking with the elemental, but now came the question of whether she could actually communicate with it.

  “I see an object in your center. Is that the source of your pain?”

  A long moment passed before the ripples came. I think so.

  “I can help you. I can remove the object.”

  Will it hurt?

  “It may, but then—”

  —Helesys tripped over something in the water but caught her footing after a moment. She continued, “Then your pain will end.”

  You are foolish.

  The elf nearly chuckled at the joke.

  You are in danger.

  She almost missed it over the elemental’s constant cyclone of water. Behind her she heard a splash and then a groan. Something different, guttural.

  Helesys spun, and saw an arm reaching for her—where she had just tripped. Putrid flesh, white tendon and bone beneath it. The hand reached for her as she recoiled, splashing after her. A Terran skull with thin wiry hair and red pockmarks just behind it. Gray-black void where eyes, nose, and tongue should be. A raspy breath in between each bite of its cracked teeth as the corpse crawled after her.

  The cannon on her right arm whirred to life in some unspoken command. With a mind of its own, her arm reached out, palm nearly touching the gnashing face of the undead. Purple sparks danced across her fingertips.

  Then came the jolt, but this time the elf was ready for it. The blast erupted from her hand and through the face of the corpse. The dull thump of impact mixed with a squash—the sound of bone and water pulverized—and then the water crashed back together. The motionless body, missing its head and shoulders, was hurled to the side by the waves.

  But victory was short lived.

  Splashes echoed throughout the cavern as dozens of undead rose up on rotting limbs. The closest were only a dozen paces away.

  Behind her, Taunauk had already leapt and crashed down on one. Buying her time. His voice roared over the water and through the cavern, “Do not shoot! Do not hit the columns!”

  “Stercus,” she mumbled. The oaf was right—but that meant her plans changed only slightly.

  Helesys turned to the water elemental. “Stop! Please let me help you.”

  The elemental stopped and then turned toward her, the disk in its center reflecting as it did. The creature said nothing until
she reached forward with her metal arm.

  Use your other limb, it said and recoiled from her touch.

  So Helesys turned and reached into the waterspout, but in spite of the spin of the waves, she felt the water of its body was absolutely still. She plunged her arm in to the elbow, then the shoulder, but she still could not reach it!

  Around her, corpses had risen and were stumbling toward her and the elemental on stuttering strides. Somewhere behind them axeswings crashed like blastshells, sending water and body parts flying through the air.

  Helesys took a deep breath and reached even deeper, plunging her head and shoulders into the watery creature. This time her fingers found purchase around the disk and she yanked it free, stumbling out of the waterspout.

  The elf found her footing just in time, just as the first three corpses set upon her.

  Clutching the metal disk close to her chest, Helesys swung her metal hand toward the closest undead her fingers and palm crackled to life. A flash of purple, the dull thump of the blast and the squish of flesh and bone—the creature dropped, the lower half of its body slumping into the water.

  The other two corpses stumbled toward her, gnarled fingers slashing in wide, gasping arcs. One lunged for her or tripped—she could not be sure—but Helesys ducked to the right, missing its grasp and keeping the fallen between her and its still standing comrade.

  The elf raised her cannon arm and with unspoken command another blast obliterated the corpse that was still on its feet. The remaining half fell forward just as the fallen corpse was pushing itself up out of the water. Helesys called upon her arm again and caught bodies in the blast. The water in front of her exploded, sending waves and body parts flying across the torch-lit, flooded room.

  Forty paces away, Taunauk fought with frenzied speed, continuing his plight to keep the bulk of the undead from reaching her and the elemental. Explosions of water littered the room, circling around the elf’s position. The barbarian leapt and swung so fast—waves crashing and falling in constant overlap—that it felt like she was standing in the middle of a battlefield instead of an underground cavern.