The Secret Kings

by Brian Niemeier

  “Why would Vaun send Xander with the rod but leave the vas at home?” asked Nakvin.

  Jaren stood and raised his eyes to the sky. “Let’s save the speculation till after we deal with the big meat balloons.”

  Thinking back to the invasion of Temil gave Astlin an idea. “Anomians are held together with transessence.” She pointed at Jaren’s rodcaster. “If that thing could disrupt the work of a god, it should turn the blobs to puddles of black goo.”

  Jaren opened the left side of his green jacket, revealing three more gold rounds thicker than a man’s thumb held in place by loops sewn into the lining.

  “Transessence uses prana,” he said. “These only disrupt fashioned Void. I doubt they’d even tickle the jellyfish.”

  One of the giant Anomian blobs loomed up over the crest of the hill. A tentacle like a kite streamer—except made of flesh and taller than a skyscraper—oozed onto the bridge between the landing pad and the palace grounds. The tentacle’s tip rapidly turned grey with a luster halfway between steel and stone while a section of the bridge took on the appearance of human skin, but instead of hair it sprouted metal wires that twitched like bug antennas.

  A shadow fell over Astlin. She looked up to see another tentacle descending from the bloated mass above. The weird spectacle held her enrapt, but strong arms encircled her waist as she was pushed clear of the landing pad.

  “We are living in strange times, Serieigna, “said Xander. “You’d do well to keep your wits about you.”

  Astlin found herself lying on the lawn surrounding the platform, looking up at Xander’s smiling face. No other soul looked out from his clear grey eyes.

  “Xander,” she said softly. “You came back to me.”

  “No petty god of this world could keep me away.” He kissed her, fervently and deeply. She pulled him closer, reveling as his pure light flowed into her.

  “Move it, lovebirds!” Nakvin yelled.

  Astlin looked past Xander to the giant tentacle, which lay draped across the Kerioth and was already taking on the glossy hardness of obsidian. The fleshy tip was questing toward them.

  With a shared thought, Astlin and Xander were standing on the walkway with Elena, Jaren, Tefler, and Nakvin.

  “This could get messy,” said the queen. She finished a series of complex hand gestures and raised her arm toward the floating blob.

  A haze like the one Jaren had fired from his rodcaster burst from Nakvin’s hand. The humming blast hit the blob dead center, reducing it to a rain of thick tar. Xander raised a nexic shield to deflect the reeking mess that poured down from the sky.

  Nakvin turned the roiling cone on the bridge. The weakened span groaned and tumbled into the ravine with the squeal of twisting metal and the rumble of falling rocks.

  Jaren’s eyes showed more white than green as he stared at Nakvin. “I thought you fashioned Workings with songs!”

  Nakvin gave him a tired smile. “I can slow time. In the last twenty years I spent half a century learning the Compass.”

  “I need to get you Adept’s robes,” said Jaren.

  “What were we worried about?” asked Tefler. “Grandma can just pop Shaiel’s balloons.”

  Astlin looked to the blob-dotted sky. “Can one Factor take down all of those?”

  Over the plain, a third of the sky warped and blistered. Astlin couldn’t tell if the disgusting, tumor-riddled hulk that pushed through the wall between worlds was the same one she’d seen over Temil, but it was easily as huge.

  “To answer your question,” Nakvin said, “No, I’d burn out my life cord before I could disrupt them all. And I doubt I’d even put a dent in that.”

  “We should consider moving house,” said Tefler. “This neighborhood’s going downhill.”

  A deep rumbling shook the stone chips on the platform. Astlin heard the whine of a ship’s drifters growing until it drowned out every other sound. The rising din reached its peak when the Serapis roared past the hilltop like a colossal curved spearhead. Its backswept port pylon passed so close that Astlin felt she could have reached out and touched it. The wind that followed in its wake whipped her skirt and hair.

  “Lucky for us,” Nakvin said, “I had the good sense to order the Serapis repaired.”

  “That improves our odds,” said Jaren, “but she’s fighting out of her weight class.”

  Astlin looked up. Though it stretched the limits of ether-runner size, the Serapis was overshadowed by the Anomian giant toward which it climbed.

  Xander turned to Elena. “Surely a true goddess would intervene, or are you merely the Mother of Demons?”

  “I’m bound to the White Well,” said Elena. “The Anomians will just absorb prana or anything made from it, so I’m limited to disrupting their transessence and attacking them with nexism.”

  “Nexism?” Astlin thought aloud.

  Elena nodded. “The Anomians spread by exchanging properties with matter and energy. Nexism is nonmaterial.”

  Astlin looked at the Kerioth—singed and dripping with slime. She joined her mind to Xander’s.

  Is our ship still intact?

  Yes, Xander confirmed. Shaiel protected it from Thera’s onslaught.

  In a moment they were standing together on the nexus-runner’s flattened white sphere of a bridge.

  Astlin rushed to the top of the control dais and joined herself to the ship. Do you trust me?

  Xander was already at the weapons station. With all my soul.

  Alright, Astlin advised him, I’m flying straight for the Serapis.

  Why not simply imagine us there and will it so? Xander asked.

  So you can shoot down some blobs along the way.

  Astlin felt the Kerioth’s kinetic drives come online. At her whim, the nexus-runner leapt skyward, slicing through the air like a three-pronged obsidian dart. Directly ahead, the Serapis had almost closed with the even larger Anomian. The vast blob grew new blisters as the ether-runner’s three turrets fed it a steady stream of blazing amber ordnance.

  A blob reared up in Astlin’s path like a bubble rising through water. Though smaller than the mother jellyfish, it was more than big enough to swallow the Kerioth.

  Searing green-white beams lanced out from the nexus-runner’s bow, leaving charred holes in the smaller blob’s knobby flesh. It started to fall, but not fast enough for Astlin to avoid a collision.

  Xander channeled the translator into the nexic field, wrapping the Kerioth in a blinding green-white sphere. Astlin urged the ship forward, eating through the blob, which plummeted toward the ground. Her elation faded when she saw the falling mass break up into a swarm of smaller blobs.

  They’re heading for Seele! Astlin’s heart sank. There was no way to keep the city from being overrun.

  A cone of warped space shot out from the hilltop like a lighthouse beam, sweeping over the swarm of tiny blobs and turning them to black oily mist.

  What was that? marveled Xander.

  Astlin saw a small figure standing at the landing pad’s parapet, her white dress and light brown hair streaming behind her as destruction flowed from her outstretched hand.

  The Mother of Demons intervened, Astlin informed him.

  I am glad I suggested it to her, quipped Xander. We’ve almost reached the Serapis. Bring us alongside her, and I will hail the bridge.

  Light filtered through the mother blob, turning the sky ahead the color of curdled blood. The Serapis slowly fell back as cancerous growths swelled toward the amber fire of its guns.

  Astlin pulled up to the giant ether-runner’s port side.

  This is the Kerioth, Xander signaled to the Serapis. We are here to assist you.

  Since it had served alongside Cadrys Navy ether-runners, the Kerioth’s comm system could convert telepathy into sendings and vice versa. So the answer to Xander’s hail came directly to Astlin’s mind but carried the impression of Gid’s crotchety voice.

  We saw the fireworks, replied Gid. These things look like the spawn of a medical wa
ste dumpster and a scrap pile, but whatever they are, they sure don’t like your ship’s guns.

  You’ve got something even better, Astlin told Gid. The blobs are using transessence to hold themselves together, so…

  The Working disruption field, Gid interrupted. Let’s see if the Gen crew Her Majesty stuck me with can operate it.

  The tumors that had been growing from the mother blob suddenly merged into a giant tentacle that lashed out—not at the Serapis, but at the Kerioth. Astlin’s panicked mind couldn’t will the ship to safety.

  Xander cried out. Nexic bolts, unhindered by the anti-Working field, streamed from the Kerioth’s bow to drill smoking holes through the onrushing tentacle, but the target was too big to destroy before impact.

  We are too close to the Serapis, Xander warned. I can’t deploy the translation field!

  Astlin felt ants racing across her skin. The striking tentacle evaporated. It stump writhed about, crusted with tar.

  Okay, Gid announced. We got the disruption field working.

  The mother blob’s slimy membrane quivered, sparkling with the rainbow glint of metal particles. Slowly the giant Anomian retreated from its smaller foes.

  Astlin regained her wits. Charge it! She urged Gid.

  Aye, Captain, Gid replied, his wry grin coming through loud and clear.

  Astlin looked to Xander, who nodded from the weapons station. The Kerioth’s magnified sight showed the Serapis advancing, and she matched its course, opening enough distance between both ships to give Xander full use of the nexic translator while staying within the Working disruption field.

  The mother blob kept backing away, but the ships were faster. It recoiled helplessly as the invisible anti-Working field made contact, boiling away metal-laced flesh like a blow torch through lard.

  Swarms of smaller blobs broke off from the wounded mother. Any that came within a keel-length of the Serapis melted instantly. But enough slipped by to endanger Seele, where Nakvin and Elena had their hands full against dozens of larger blobs.

  Take out the stragglers, Astlin told Xander. Receiving his wordless assent, she flew the Kerioth in a close orbit around the Serapis, never straying outside the disruption field. A barrage of green-white light streamed from the nexus-runner’s midline, erasing all Anomian flesh they touched.

  Suddenly the wall of metallic meat that filled Astlin’s forward view parted to reveal an overcast sky.

  I’ve never seen a prettier cloudy day, she thought.

  Gid’s thoughts came over the comm. That takes care of the big one. Let’s swing around and mop up.

  The Serapis turned with surprising grace for a ship its size and sped back toward Seele, where only Elena still fought to disrupt the larger Anomians and the breakaway schools of blobs. Astlin stayed in formation with the giant ether-runner while Xander opened fire.

  Wounded sky jellyfish scattered into smaller blobs that burst against the disruption field. The Serapis skimmed low over valleys and hills, burning out the infection where it had taken root.

  Between the Serapis, the Kerioth, and Elena, it only took three passes to clear the land and sky of Anomian corruption.

  Not bad for amateurs, Gid congratulated Astlin and Xander.

  Or for an overworked shipwright, Xander teased him back.

  Well done, everyone, Astlin projected to her husband and the whole Serapis crew. A nagging doubt lifted when she searched Seele and found Elena, Jaren, Tefler, and Nakvin resting on the landing pad.

  Astlin’s thoughts went out to Nakvin. Are you okay?

  Yeah, the queen replied. I decided to pace myself. Plus Elena told me to take a break before I burned out my silver cord. By the way, nice flying. I definitely need an air force.

  One last concern haunted Astlin. What about your army? Is Anris alright?

  He’s fine. Nakvin’s laugh came through the telepathic bond. A good captain knows when not to fight. Anris pulled back as soon as he knew that swords, bows, and guns wouldn’t be much help. Most of the troops made it behind cover before…

  Astlin felt Nakvin’s grief and frustration at knowing that many good men had met horrific deaths. Most of all, she felt the queen’s burning hatred for Vaun Mordechai.

  Vaun tried to take everything from you, Astlin said. Now Teg will turn the tables.

  34

  Six months wasn’t enough downtime between urban spelunking trips, Teg decided. In fact, he vowed that if he survived his trek through Serapium’s tunnels, he would never again delve deeper than a basement.

  The darkness swallowed any sense of time, but by Teg’s count he’d been creeping through the cold labyrinth for miles. The only sounds were his own breathing, the occasional scrabble of crumbling brick sliding down a wall, and sometimes the drip of water leaking from above. There was no echo of footsteps. He was too careful for that.

  The dry air reminded Teg of a defunct mechanic’s shop—metal, dirt and oil with a hint of old cinders. He thought of Salorien under its pall of fire and wondered how Astlin was faring in Seele. If Avalon had fallen, Teg was the last one standing between Vaun and total victory.

  Luckily, the new regime seemed even less interested in Serapium’s underground than the Guild had been. As he moved out of the Desolation and under the city proper, Teg found abandoned rail lines that had been in service up until the Cataclysm. His flashlight’s narrow beam fell on tracks buried in dust or swamped by flooding. Whole stations stood empty; their glazed brick walls, brass fixtures, and leaded glass windows looking like tomb ornaments.

  It was a while before the faint glow of distant lights and the rumble of trains passing above or beside him warned Teg that he was nearing active tunnels. Since the city had changed in the last twenty years, now was a good time to head up and get his bearings.

  Surfacing wasn’t without risks. Teg knew that anyone who saw him might be serving as Shaiel’s eyes, so extreme caution was called for.

  Teg took a slight detour down a service tunnel that had connected the sub-basements of various downtown businesses. Intermittent stations marked by solitary lights stood above the tracks. Teg used extra care when passing a platform that might serve an open establishment. Even that far underground, some of them might have installed security measures.

  At last Teg came to a tunnel branch that had been closed for never-finished repairs. He slipped between orange and white signs warning of danger and picked his way over dusty sandbags and rubble to a small station devoid of light.

  Teg climbed onto the concrete platform, where he discovered a door—long disused, judging by the undisturbed dust at its foot and the rust under its peeling grey paint. The Formula confirmed the door’s abandonment, and the lock yielded to the tools secreted in Teg’s hip pocket.

  Warm air smelling of cold ashes poured through the rusty door as Teg eased it open. A steel and concrete stairwell rose before him, bending at right angles in an upward spiral. Sunlight filtered in from somewhere high above.

  Teg switched off his flashlight and crept up the stairs. The ground floor landing was coated in soot and cordoned off with yellow tape. He ducked under the symbolic barricade and continued up to the higher floors.

  The damage worsened the higher Teg went, until a collapsed wall ended his climb on the twenty-third floor. As part of his examination he pressed his ear to the singed metal door and heard a low roar like a packed stadium waiting for the games to begin.

  Teg opened the door a crack and peeked through.

  The area beyond was a forest of bare steel beams spanning between a blackened concrete floor and ceiling. Its floor space rivaled a grand ballroom, and where the right wall should have been was a long jagged hole. The long rent was covered with translucent plastic that expanded and contracted in the strong wind, giving Teg the odd notion of standing inside the lung of a colossal beast.

  A beast that’s also been a lifelong smoker, he mused, surveying the scars left by the fire.

  Confident that the floor was empty, Teg stepped through the do
or and quietly shut it behind him. The rising din of an arena before a match drifted through the breach in the wall. He approached the obscuring plastic sheet.

  Teg’s twin ether metal guns weren’t the only weapons he’d packed for this trip. He drew a splinterknife from the sheath strapped to his right boot and lay down on his stomach. Without activating the Working that made the blade oscillate, he cut a foot wide slit in the plastic at floor level.

  Bright light shone through the opening. No matter how many visits he made to Cadrys, Teg never got used to the strange sight of a bright afternoon under a black sky. He blinked to clear his vision and looked out through the hole he’d made.

  Teg’s building looked down on a wide paved street empty of drifter or foot traffic. Closer to his position the road was flanked by burned-out towers, rubble mounds, and yawning foundations. The ruins gradually gave way to gleaming new construction that reached its peak in a cluster of tall proud buildings. But even those majestic towers stood back from the huge square at the street’s end.

  Looks like Serapium finally got its Guild house.

  The thought was an exaggeration. All of the skyscrapers and the open area they bounded could have fit inside a corner of Ostrith’s Guild house. But like the far larger Steersman’s Square, the grand plaza below featured an imposing structure at its heart.

  That has to be the House of Law.

  Teg’s view was partially blocked by the buildings on his right, but he saw that the mound of dark grey stone amid the square rose in nine tiers. The first three steps were relatively squat and ringed with squared pillars. The fourth section was the tallest, with sheer blank walls rising several stories to the next four tiers, each of which was shorter than the last and enclosed with balconies. A serrated spire topped the whole monstrosity.

  The source of the noise was even easier to see. A vast crowd filled the square from its entrance to the House of Law’s steps.

  Actually, crowd was the wrong word. A mass of humanity—and possibly other things—stood in rigid formations. Most wore dark blue uniforms or grey cloaks. One rough company wore hardly anything over their ashen skin, which marked them as Night Gen. Teg could hear their howls over the general racket.