by Cory Herndon
As far as the “Prophet” Dwugget was concerned, Glissa was still baffled. First, the Krark cultists hadn’t been where they were supposed to be. Now Dwugget was this Vulshok’s lord? It didn’t make any sense, and she wished again that she hadn’t lost the seeksphere in the fight. The wise old goblin that Slobad had introduced her to was gentle and intelligent. He’d been a valuable source of information when she had first set out with Slobad to find out if the world really was hollow. These thugs weren’t acting under the auspices of the Dwugget she knew.
But how well did she know the old goblin? Slobad had vouched for him, and Dwugget had even given Glissa a copy of the Book of Krark, an ancient tome that convinced her she was on the right track. But Slobad, cunning and bright as he was, could also be too trusting. It was possible that the wizened elder her friend knew was but one face of a despot. Or worse, Dwugget had taken on the mantle of the shaman that had once cast the Krark out of the mountains.
As she turned back from the razor plains, the elf girl thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked again there was nothing. Great, she thought, something’s hunting us on top of everything else. Or I’m going crazy.
Or maybe, she thought as she spotted a glimmer of silver and a pair of flashing golden eyes, just maybe, this is going to work out.
As casually as she could, Glissa sidled ahead until she was side by side with her sister. The goblin guards didn’t seem to take notice. They were herding the pair of elves and expected a little movement as the loose formation trudged onward.
“Hey,” Glissa whispered softly, hoping the ringing footsteps of the armored goblins on the hard bronze path would mask her voice. None of the goblins looked up, and Alderok Vektro continued his slow, heavy strides.
Lyese cocked her head slightly.
“Something’s following us,” Glissa continued. “Stalking us.”
“I know,” Lyese replied, “Leonin?”
“I hope so. Get ready to run.”
“Way ahead of you.”
“Silence!” the fat goblin snarled, and smacked Glissa on the back with the flat end of his spear. “No talk!”
“We’ll be good,” the elf girl replied. She glanced sideways at Lyese, who winked. Or blinked. It was hard to tell.
The attack came as they entered a narrow draw between jagged, natural iron walls that rose hundreds of feet on either side. A half dozen furious roars exploded in the dusky night, and six feline shapes descended on the goblin brigade from above. Curved silver blades flashed, cutting down several of Glissa’s captors before the first one had a chance to scream.
“Good timing!” Glissa shouted to the leonin. She let out a battle cry, ducked her head, and charged the fat goblin. She caught the little brute full in the chest with a savage kick, and he flopped onto his back, unmoving. She whirled on one foot and swung the toe of her boot into the groin of another goblin, whose spear clattered to the rocky ground as he doubled over in pain.
The rest of the guard was either engaged by the leonin commandos, or trying to close on Lyese, who had a kick for any goblin that got too close. This was Glissa’s chance to get out of her bonds. She dropped onto the ground and scooted over to the spear the fat guard had dropped and sawed her bindings against the sharp edge of the tip. After a few second, she felt the last fiber of the painful cable snap, and she was free. Glissa grabbed the spear and scrambled back into the fray.
Before she could get her bearings, a fleeing goblin barreled into the elf girl from the side. Glissa snapped the blunt end of the spear into his gut and vaulted the diminutive soldier into the air. She heard the goblin smack into a towering iron ore spire with the clang of a bell clapper.
Scanning the melee, she finally spotted the big Vulshok. Alderok Vektro was standing clear of the fray, furiously summoning magical aide for the goblins. A flash of red from Vektro’s gauntleted hands, and the diminutive warriors were encased in thick bronze armor that fused to their rusty red hides, making them look like miniature golems. The goblins’ weapons burned with unnatural red flames and sparked as they clashed with leonin longkives. None of them had been able to reach the Vulshok priest yet. Glissa noted the leonin were all wearing the helmets and lightweight armor of the Taj Nar Sky Guard, and wondered why they hadn’t attacked from pteronback. Had the pterons been lost? It would explain why they’d been late to the party.
With his footsoldiers holding the leonin at bay—even the leader, who faced three of the magically augmented guards—Vektro had turned on Lyese. Glissa charged into the fight, kicking goblins aside and plowing a path to her sister. She saw a ball of orange-red flame forming in the Vulshok mage’s upturned palms. The glow cast deforming shadows that made Vektro look like a monstrous goblin-human hybrid, and he cackled as power surged into existence at his command.
Lyese didn’t see her peril or Vektro. Glissa’s sister was doing her best to help the leonin fight off the triple-team of goblins with another stolen spear, but was having trouble finding an opening.
“Lyese! Watch out!” Glissa shouted, and launched herself at Vektro.
The next few seconds passed at a crawl. As her sister spun toward Vektro, one of the goblins slammed a fist into the small of Lyese’s back. The human raised the fireball over his head, apparently willing to fry his own troops to get at the others. Glissa heaved her stolen spear.
Lyese arched her back and screamed as the goblin followed his punch with a sweeping kick to the younger elf’s ankles that sent her sprawling backward.
“Guluhr immohl!” Vektro bellowed, and released the fireball just as Glissa’s spear skewered the human’s unprotected shoulder. The priest’s spell went wide and slammed into the canyon wall over the heads of a pair of goblins slugging it out with two leonin commandos, sending the combatants bolting for cover as chunks of slag and white-hot ore rained down.
Glissa slammed into Alderok Vektro with the speed of a charging zauk, her momentum helping her drive the big man down hard on his back. But Vektro was faster than he looked, and surprised the elf girl by tucking his legs as Glissa came down. He kicked out hard at the elf girl’s gut as he rolled over backwards, flinging Glissa into the air. She twisted and managed to let her shoulder absorb most of the blow. Glissa came up standing a few paces away from Vektro, but her shoulder felt disjointed and she had no weapon. She saw Vektro’s eyes flash red and he held his hand apart, summoning forth another gout of burning magic.
“I still won’t kill you,” he snarled through a wicked grin. “But I will hurt you!”
The fire sputtered and died as a silver blur collided with the big human. The leonin followed through with a wicked kick to the side of Vektro’s head, and finished by removing his own pteron-bone helmet and knocking the Vulshok back one more time as the human tried to raise his head.
Glissa grinned at the Kha, who jerked the dazed Alderok Vektro to his feet and quickly bound the big human’s hands behind his back. “Raksha,” she said, “you might want to take his gauntlets, too, just in case.” Surveying the scene, she grinned and added, “And thanks.”
Every goblin lay unconscious or otherwise incapacitated by injury. It appeared the leonin had gone out of their way not to kill the goblins, which Glissa thought wise. Whatever Dwugget was up to, he could still be a potential ally. And she wasn’t sure this Alderok Vektro was really in league with the old goblin priest anyway.
The other five leonin—all females, Glissa now saw, which made sense if they were all skyhunters—bound the goblins and saw to serious injuries on both sides that needed immediate attention. Glissa heard Lyese whisper an old healing spell their mother had used to fix small knicks and cuts since they were both little, and was surprised to see that she was using the magic on the Kha. Raksha, meanwhile, yanked hard on the Vulshok prisoner’s wrists. The big human emitted a surprisingly high-pitched yelp.
“Thank you, Lyese,” Raksha said. “What do you think, Glissa? Are these our goblins? This one’s bigger than I expected.”
<
br /> “That human calls himself a Vulshok,” Glissa replied, rubbing her wrists to get blood flowing through them again. “Says his name’s Alderok Vektro. He’s going to take us to see Dwugget. Aren’t you, Vektro?”
Alderok Vektro’s eyes flashed with hatred, but he was unable to free himself from the Kha’s iron grip. “The Prophet will have you skinned alive! Your pelts will line his trophy hall! I shall feast upon your roasted eye … AAAAAAIIIIIEEEEE!”
“Quiet, human!” the Golden Cub snarled, twisting the man’s wrists. “We shall tear out your throat if you do not cease at once!”
“Wait,” Glissa said, shaking off a leonin who was trying to set her injured shoulder in a sling. The hulking human’s eyes had glazed over, and his skin was rapidly growing pale. “I think he’s passing—”
Vektro went limp.
“—out,” Glissa finished.
The elf girl looked incredulously at Raksha Golden Cub. The Kha wore the same light silver plate as the skyhunters, though his bore a golden icon of the yellow sun, or moon, depending on where the viewer came from. He carried no sword, though Glissa did note that all six leonin wore the same long, curved knives hanging from their belts. Like the others, the Kha had a small supply pack strapped firmly to his back so as not to hinder motion in a fight. Tied to Raksha’s pack was a larger bag holding something gourd-shaped. The leonin were barefoot, which didn’t surprise Glissa. If she had weapons like that at the ends of her toes, she wouldn’t wear shoes either.
Glissa accepted her sword from one of the leonin without taking her disbelieving eyes off of Alderok Vektro, and slid the Viridian blade back into place on her belt. “What happened to him? Is he still alive?”
Raksha held the human higher and sniffed him gingerly. His nose wrinkled.
“No. If he’d expired, the human would smell a great deal worse than he already does. He smells like a goblin,” the Kha explained. “He may have had a low pain threshold.” Raksha let the big human drop unceremoniously to the ground, and picked up the Vulshok’s gauntlets. “Or maybe he wasn’t as tough as he looked without these.” The Kha passed the gauntlets to one of the female commandos, who tucked them into her own pack.
“We’ll get back to him,” Glissa said. “What kept you?”
“An old friend of yours stopped by,” Raksha said, the growl replaced by a brief flash of teeth that Glissa hoped was a smile. It was always hard to tell with a leonin.
The Kha swung the larger pack off his shoulder and tossed it to Glissa. She thought she heard a sound like a muffled yelp. “That’s not a gourd,” Glissa said unnecessarily, holding the pack out as far from her nose as possible. Whatever was in there, it smelled terrible.
“Open it carefully. He might bite,” Raksha said.
“Thanks for the warning,” Glissa said, and flipped the pack open.
“Long time, no see,” said Geth’s head.
TALKING DEAD
Glissa slammed the bag shut again, to the muffled surprise of Geth’s cursing cranium.
“What is this, Raksha?” Glissa demanded.
“I’m a ‘who.’ And I can hear you, you know!” Geth’s head shouted. Glissa dropped the bag on the ground, which elicited a yelp.
“This was sitting on a platter in the center of my dining table when I returned to my tent this morning,” Raksha said, slipping into informality. “It said it had an offer from Yert.”
The head in the bag cackled like a lunatic when the Kha said the name, but Glissa ignored it.
“Yert?” Glissa said. “Yert—Yert’s dead.”
“Death is relative in the Dross,” the bag said.
“What’s a Yert?” Lyese asked.
“Someone I thought was long gone.” Glissa leaned down and flipped the bag back open. “All right, Geth. I’m sure you’ve got a wonderful tale about why your head’s sitting there in a bag, but I don’t care. Just talk. What’s Yert got to do with this? You told me you killed him. And if you aren’t honest with me, I will step on you. Hard.”
“No need for threats, my dear, old friend,” Geth’s head simpered. “Here to talk, yes I am. Yes, indeed. Yert says talk, I talk. We talk. All of us ta—”
Glissa pointedly raised her boot.
“So, yes, talking. Yert—oh, he’s one to watch. Yes indeed,” the Geth’s face took on a dark scowl. “An up-and-comer, that one. Should have watched him, eh? Should have made sure …” The head blinked and took on a more placid expression Glissa didn’t buy for a minute. “But I digress. Been doing that a lot lately. I think my brain’s getting a touch of the rot. Yert, he sends a message.”
“How is this dead man sending me a message, and why? What did you really do to him?” Glissa said.
In reply, Geth’s eyes rolled back into his head, leaving empty, blood-red sockets. When the head spoke again, it sounded very different. These tones were much more controlled, a great deal more menacing, over a hundred times as cold as ice, and disturbingly familiar.
“Glissa,” Geth’s head said with what the elf girl barely recognized as Yert’s voice. The sound no longer carried tremors of fear and weakness. This voice was strong, clear, and cold. “And Raksha Golden Cub, I believe? And … how lovely. A new girl. Perfect. I would say it is an honor to meet my noble enemy at last, dear Kha, but I do not wish to start out with lies. Plenty of time for lies later.”
Glissa saw Raksha bristle, but the leonin remained silent.
“Get to the point, Yert,” Glissa snapped. “That is you, right? Nice way to repay a kindness. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“It is only because of the kindness you showed me that I am speaking with you now.” Yert’s voice slithered. “But you are distracting me, Glissa. You are very good at that, you know.”
“You talk to much,” Glissa replied. She brandished her sword and leveled the tip at one of Geth’s red eyes. “Are you using those eye sockets, too?”
“You’re no fun anymore, you know that?” the head replied. “All right, no more small talk. I have your mage, the Neurok. She is alive, for now. But her life is in your hands, Glissa.”
“Bruenna?” Lyese gasped. “Glissa, we’ve got to—”
“Yes, Glissa, you’ve got to! It’s tragic!” Yert squealed in a juvenile falsetto. “Time to start rending the garments and wailing at the moons!” The head cackled, for a moment sounding much more like its original owner. “So tell me, who’s the sharpshooter? Do I detect a family resemblance?”
“What do you want, Yert?” Glissa demanded.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you, Glissa. Come to me, of your own free will, and I shall release the mage.”
Glissa swallowed, and tried hard to sound blasé as she replied, “The Neurok knew what she was getting into. You’re crazier than I thought if you think that’s any kind of offer. How do I even know she’s alive?”
“Glissa, don’t even think about it,” she heard Bruenna’s voice say through Geth’s cracked lips. Geth’s expression contorted into a crude approximation of Bruenna, a mask of equal parts anger, fear, and grim determination. “He’s going to kill me any—”
“I think that’s enough,” Yert’s voice said, and Geth’s face broke into a wicked smile. “There, that’s all the proof you get. However, I am willing to sweeten the deal. I shall call off my nim. We shall stay within the Mephidross. Kha, I will end all attacks agains the leonin. All I ask in return is the elf girl. Really, it’s not as if you need two, is it?”
Raksha spat. “You’re a fool if you think the Kha would so easily betray a friend.” But something about his expression made Glissa think he might not be as sure as he sounded.
Geth’s head somehow lolled over sideways to make empty eye socket contact with the Kha. “Really? Don’t even want to think about it, eh? That doesn’t sound like a great leader of the noble leonin people, and so on and so on.” The head sighed, a sound that came out as more a wet wheeze. “Glissa seems to think this is all up to her. But what do the rest of you say? Your Kha is r
eady to give up peace for a single elf.”
The elf realized she was surrounded by six war-weary soldiers, soldiers who had been fighting the same terrible enemy for a very long time and had seen far too many friends die at the hands of the nim. Soldiers who had just risked their lives on a distant mountain to help Glissa yet again while their fellows defended the den home.
“Raksha …” she said warily, glad she already had her sword drawn. Doing so now would have looked far too aggressive, but the weight in her palm helped her to steady her voice. The Kha looked deeply into Glissa’s eyes, as if searching for the answer to his dilemma. If he was, it didn’t take him more than a few seconds to find it.
“Leonin do not negotiate with nim,” the Kha growled. He cast a steely glare at the female warriors. “Nor do we offer up the lives of friends in acts of abject cowardice. Try again, creature.”
“You’re killing Bruenna as we speak,” the head replied. “Well, you’re killing parts of her. If you’re foolish enough to try and deceive me, you’ll force me to expand my efforts. Internal organs are even more fun to play with. Tasty, too.”
Suddenly, the head shot into the air and swiveled to face Glissa, hovering just out of sword reach. “This is not a negotiation, this is the offer,” Yert’s voice snarled. “Take it or leave it.”
Glissa seethed. Slobad was still missing, and the answers to finding him—and learning why Vektro and the goblins had attacked her—were up that mountain. Even now, Memnarch might be torturing Slobad to death. But if she didn’t do something immediately, Bruenna would surely die.
Something in her gut told her the Guardian wanted her goblin friend alive. Since Memnarch had not issued any demands, it seemed increasingly unlikely that the reason was to simply ransom the goblin for Glissa’s spark. As easily as that, her decision was made. It was not a logical decision; it was visceral, but her instincts told her it was right.
