The Fifth Dawn

by Cory Herndon

  Yert sent a fist across Glissa’s already battered jaw. “You overestimate your importance to me,” Yert said. “Memnarch may want you alive, but I would just as soon open you up and feast upon your innards. I’ve learned elves have a tangy taste you just don’t get in humans. I think it’s those special spices you grow in the Tangle.”

  Glissa opened her mouth to retort, and as fast as lightning, Yert’s right palm was pressed against her cheek. She froze. The black spike tip was less than an inch from her jugular. “For now, just a taste,” he hissed.

  She felt a pinch like a needlebug sting as Yert’s feeding spike pierced her neck. Within seconds the loss of blood began to make her dizzy, and she already sensed red unconsciousness flooding her vision. If she didn’t do something to stop him, she would be drained and dead within a minute. Nonetheless, she didn’t dare try to wriggle free. Yert could tear her throat apart with the spike.

  “Help,” Glissa gasped.

  She’d never felt more pathetic, she thought, as she grew more and more delirious. The mightiest hunter in the Tangle has walked into a snare hidden in plain sight. She should have known that Yert’s sudden reappearance was too strange, and that there had to be something else to it. She should have remembered the vampire. And what vampires could do to the living, if they really wanted to.

  Yert suddenly screamed and jerked the spike free. Glissa felt warm liquid running freely down the side of her neck. The blackness would take her in seconds. Already everything was growing hazy. She felt a hand press over the wound and heard a voice—Yert?—muttering a few words in some bizarre, guttural tongue big on glottal stops. The flow of blood stopped, and Glissa’s vision cleared almost instantly. She spun free of the vampire’s grip and stepped back cautiously.

  Yert held one palm into his forehead, and straightened with great effort. “Yes,” he said to the air, “I won’t do it again. Please, make it stop.”

  Something was hurting Yert badly, something that Glissa couldn’t see—but that mystery would have to wait. The other hand was still extended, covered in red blood. Her blood. And she took that sort of thing personally. Before she could think better of it, she slammed a fist into Yert’s face, sending him stumbling back into the wall.

  “Seize her, but do not kill!” he cried, still clutching his head. “The Guardian commands it!”

  That explained his sudden headache, Glissa guessed.

  Ellasha took advantage of her captor’s distraction to bring her legs up and kick off the nearest wall, sending the gray brutes slamming into ironstone with a crunch of snapping ribs. As the pair hit the tunnel floor, Glissa noted twin sets of black spikes on the ends of their wrists. These two weren’t human, either. Yert had been busy. If this kept up, humans were going to become extinct.

  “Run!” she shouted to Ellasha. “Still have to find Bruenna. I’ll catch up.” The leonin commando leader nodded and headed down the tunnel at top speed, narrowly evading the grasping claws of the looming nim.

  Glissa feinted right, causing a nim to stumble against the pair of vampires before they could recover from Ellasha’s blow, then dashed back to the alcove. She scooped up Geth’s head, which shouted “Hey!” as she stuffed it into the pack, then set off after the leonin as fast as her legs would carry her. As she passed the last slow-moving nim, she snatched her sword from the zombie’s claws.

  The tunnel behind her exploded with clanging footsteps as the nim gave chase. Glissa could make out Ellasha up ahead through the pervasive necrogen, and hoped she could keep pace with the fleet-footed feline. As if reading her mind, Ellasha looked back and paused, bouncing on impatient feet.

  “Thanks for waiting,” Glissa said breathlessly as she joined the leonin. Together they set off at a dead run into the heart of the Mephidross. “You’re one … fast cat.”

  “Not … a cat,” Ellasha said, “and you run … like a pixie.”

  “Elf,” Glissa replied.

  “Mush moh moo moh, mish mimsn’t my maulf,” Geth added.

  “I actually believe it’s not your fault, Geth,” Glissa said. “Now you’re going to prove it by getting us to Bruenna and out again.”

  “My mate moo.”

  “I hate you too,” Glissa said.

  “The tunnel forks ahead,” Ellasha said, stopping short. “Ask it which way to go.”

  “Might,” the head said from inside the pack.

  “Right?” Ellasha asked.

  “Right,” Glissa said.

  They set off down the tunnel Geth had indicated, followed by an army of nim and three very angry vampires, one of which was beginning to wonder if an alliance with Memnarch was really such a good idea.

  TIME OUT

  Glissa and Ellasha barreled along the tunnel, each one stumbling now and again as the strange, flickering necrogen light caused a weird vertigo that made it appear the floor was moving. But by staying alert, they were able to keep each other mostly upright. Geth’s head could not have been enjoying the ride.

  The elf came to an abrupt halt when Ellasha’s open hand slapped her in the chest. The path ended abruptly a few feet ahead, where the tunnel opened into an enormous cavern. Glissa peeked over the edge and could not see the bottom, nor did she see a telltale pinprick of light indicating that this was an entrance to a lacuna.

  This hole was just a hole. A very, very deep hole.

  Dozens of footsteps tromped noisily down the path behind them, and Glissa was sure she heard Yert barking orders. She swung the pack under her shoulder without unslinging it and flipped the cover open.

  “Geth!” Glissa hissed. “Small problem. Your route’s not exactly … there.” She yanked Geth’s head from the pack and dangled him over the edge by one leathery ear. The head yelped. “See?” Glissa added.

  “Yes, yes, yes, putmedownputmedownputmedown,” Geth gasped.

  The elf girl continued to dangle Geth’s head as the grisly thing squealed, looking over her shoulder down the tunnel. Beetle-like shapes loomed in the green light. The nim would be here any second. Ellasha drew her longknives and stood squarely between Glissa and the oncoming nim troop. “Find us a way out of this,” the skyhunter snarled.

  Glissa pulled Geth back from the edge and looked him squarely in his glassy, clouded eyes. “Talk. How do we get over this chasm?”

  “Don’t know,” the head gasped. “This path used to be solid, I swear! Probably happened in that cave-in you caused.”

  “You’re kidding,” Ellasha growled.

  “It’s the truth,” the head said. “She collapsed half the Vault.”

  “Flare!” Glissa snapped and stuffed the head back into the pack, which she swung back to her shoulder. Too bad Bruenna was on the other side of the chasm—a little of the mage’s flight magic would have solved everything. “Ellasha, I don’t suppose you brought along a pair of wings….”

  The leonin turned to bark a reply then stopped, one ear cocked sideways in a manner that Glissa had learned displayed uncertainty or suspicion. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” the leonin growled.

  Ellasha sheathed her knives in one fluid motion and met the first nim with a solid kick to the chest. “Open my pack,” the leonin shouted as the nim collided with the one behind it and both tumbled onto their backs. One of the vampires—not Yert—came at Ellasha from the side. The leonin met it with a fist then gripped the creature’s wrist and brought its forearm down hard across her knee. The bone snapped clean.

  Glissa scrambled up behind the leonin and hacked wildly at another nim that was creeping in from Ellasha’s blind spot. She severed its arm and necrogen tube on her third strike, a lucky hit. The nim went down, but the rest still plodded inexorably onward. Yert’s apparent absence disturbed her. She was sure she’d heard him only moments ago. She wondered idly if vampires could become invisible.

  In the clear for a moment, she flipped the latch on Ellasha’s pack and looked inside.

  “The wide pocket in the back,” she growled. “Hurry.”

&nbs
p; Glissa spotted the pocket easily and reached inside. She pulled out what looked like a folded sheet of silver linen.

  “What’s this?” Glissa asked, baffled, as the pair of them backed closer and closer to the deadly drop.

  “Just put them on,” Ellasha said as she jabbed her longknives into two nim at once, pushing them back into the clacking mob, “They’re for emergencies, so they’ll only carry one person. Well, maybe one and a head. Cross the straps over your chest. Do it now!”

  “Okay!” Glissa yelled, and slipped two thin cables over her shoulders. The silvery linen rested against her shoulder blades, above Geth’s head. Preoccupied, Glissa didn’t get her sword raised in time to block another set of nim claws, but the late parry caused her to strike the nim’s soft, exposed joints, which worked just as well. She moved shoulder to shoulder with the skyhunter, and risked a look back over her shoulder. More nim were milling about the opposite side of the deep pit as well. Several spread their black beetle-wings and launched themselves lazily across the chasm “Now what?” Glissa shouted as the noise of clacking nim feet and buzzing wings became almost unbearable.

  “Your friend!” Ellasha shouted over the din between slashes of her longknives. “She’s important? She’ll help the Kha save our people and beat these monsters?”

  “Of course!” Glissa replied. “But shouldn’t we be worried about—”

  “Then make sure the loremasters hear of the leonin who died today,” Ellasha said, and shoved Glissa out into open space. As she plummeted into the dark, she heard the leonin skyhunter roar, a sound that drowned out the nim above and was followed by a furious clanging of steel longknives on iron claws.

  The elf girl fell at least twenty feet before the silver linen on her back unfolded of its own accord into a set of four thin wings. The wings began to buzz like those of the nim, and Glissa felt descent slow, cease, and slowly reverse. How would she stop?

  Glissa stopped.

  And to go up? With the thought, the wings responded to her urgent need, gaining speed quickly. It wasn’t unlike Bruenna’s flight magic.

  She emerged between two hovering nim that slowly turned inward to face her, claws clicking menacingly. Glissa willed the wings to carry her higher, which would buy her a few precious seconds to spot Ellasha.

  The skyhunter was some thirty feet back from the chasm, awash in a sea of nim, and fighting with utter ferocity. The skyhunter was a gold and silver blur, leaping and twirling through the black mass of zombies with longknives blazing. Green ichor and necrogen steam sprayed in the air.

  The leonin briefly made eye contact with Glissa. “GO!” Ellasha shouted.

  Glissa’s sword arm began to tremble with rage and frustration. The flying nim below were almost close enough strike. Ellasha was buying her time, and the chance to save Bruenna, and the brave skyhunter was going to die in the process. Glissa might be able to save the leonin if she dove into the fray herself, but even then there were only two of them. Yert’s supply of nim seemed limitless. They would both eventually be overwhelmed.

  “I’ll tell the loremasters,” she whispered. She turned and willed the wings to take her onward to Bruenna. Bruenna, who could still be saved.

  Glissa gritted her teeth, fighting back fresh tears. If Ellasha’s sacrifice was going to mean anything, she couldn’t lose it now. She wanted nothing more than to lay into the nim with every last ounce of her strength. Her anger demanded it, but she couldn’t waste the time.

  Fortunately, Glissa found it was relatively easy to keep clear of the nim’s strikes, though she had a few close calls at points where the tunnel narrowed. Flying nim were a problem, too, but they were so clumsy in the air that she had little trouble avoiding them. But every nim turned and followed her.

  The elf girl still had no idea what she was going to do when she found Bruenna, or even how she was going to get her out. But one problem at a time. They had to find the Neurok first. Glissa had been forced to remove Geth’s head from her pack and carry it along so he could guide her, which would be a liability as soon as she landed and had to turn and face the mob behind her. She would have gladly tossed the undead thing aside, but she still needed Geth to get them out, too. Still, if he didn’t lead her to Bruenna soon she might pitch him anyway. He smelled even worse than the nim, and she was beginning to wonder if Geth really knew where he was going.

  “Wait, turn, turn!” the head shouted. “Back there, the branching passage!”

  Glissa whirled and followed Geth’s direction. This offshoot was much narrower, but there were no nim, and dim light was cast by the occasional necrogen lamp.

  “This way isn’t used much,” Geth said, as if reading her mind. “It’s the back way.”

  “Not bad, Geth,” Glissa said. “It’ll also keep the nim from attacking us all at once. So why don’t I trust you?”

  “Beats me,” Geth replied. “But trust that I want my body back, and I don’t see any other way to do it but help you. Now slow down, eh? We’re almost there.”

  The tunnel ahead glowed brighter green, and appeared to open into a larger room. Glissa willed the wings to slow down, and she took a moment to turn Geth’s head so it was facing backward. “Nim?”

  “I hear them, but can’t see them yet,” Geth said. “Could you turn me back around now?”

  Glissa obliged, peering into the green glow ahead. She could make out a single shape in the mist-filled room, something like a statue on a pedestal. She stopped short and turned Geth to face her.

  “Time for you to get back into your pack,” Glissa said. “I can’t fight with you in my hand.”

  “See, you know you love me,” Geth cackled.

  “I despise you, but you’re going to get me back out of here,” Glissa said. “Before I put you away, can you tell me anything else about that room?”

  “Sure. It’s a room. There are prisoners. Looks misty. What do you want? I’ve been severed from my body for weeks,” Geth said. At Glissa’s scowl, he added, “Okay, there are cells lining the wall, five of them. Probably two guards.”

  “Probably?”

  “That’s what I would have posted. Can’t speak for Yert. Will you get it through your head I’m not in charge here?” Geth’s head smirked. “And that thing in the middle is the torture platform.”

  “Lovely,” Glissa said.

  “You’re not kidding,” Geth replied. “It’s amazing. I got it from a vedalken slavemaster who told me he used it for ‘motivation through pain’ on all his stock. It looks like a simple table, but I had it enchanted to transform into eighteen different configurations. And of course it changes size to fit the occupant. That slavemaster knows his—”

  Glissa stuffed the head into the pack. “Quiet,” she said, squinting into the green light. The pedestal must be the torture table, which made her think that was probably no statue. She couldn’t make out anyone else in the room. No nim, no vampires, no Yert, nothing.

  It was an obvious trap. But Glissa had to walk into it.

  No, not walk into it. Fly into it. That was at least one advantage. Still, she decided a cautious approach might be warranted. The nim were some distance back down the narrow tunnel, her ears told her. She could afford to move deliberately this time instead of charging head first—her usual opening tactic, and one that of late had been meeting with mixed results.

  Yet as Glissa closed the distance and she could see more clearly into the mist-filled, brightly lit green room, she became even more confused. She saw two cell doors open and facing her, empty. The torture table did indeed appear to be nothing more than a table. But the statue was no statue. It was a person.

  Bruenna stood atop the table, wrapped up to her nose in corroded iron cable that held her suspended like an insect in an arachnid’s web. Hollow tubes were jammed here and there through the cable into Bruenna’s abdomen and back, with one appearing connected to the base of her skull. At first Glissa thought that the tubes were pumping necrogen into the Neurok, but as she drew nearer she saw the
tubes were glowing with soft blue light.

  The mage’s eyes goggled when she saw Glissa, and the elf girl could detect the faintest shaking of her friend’s head.

  Glissa entered the room, keeping one eye on Bruenna and using the other to scan the torture chamber. It was smaller than she’d expected, but then torture could be a very private matter. All of the cells were empty, as were most of the shackles hung on the walls. A few of those still held the skeletons of luckless prisoners.

  If this was Yert’s idea of a trap, it wasn’t a very good one. She threw stealth aside and zipped over to Bruenna, descending to stand on the table in front of the hapless mage.

  “I’m going to get you out of here,” Glissa said. “Can you hear me?”

  Bruenna gave the faintest of nods, and winced.

  “I have to unhook you from these tubes. Can I do that without hurting you?” Glissa asked.

  Bruenna began to shake her head again, wincing with each tiny movement, but refusing to stop.

  “At least I can get you out of these cables. Let’s see …” Glissa said, searching for a loose end she could use to unravel Bruenna’s iron cocoon. Nothing. Whoever had wrapped Bruenna in this painful-looking cable had been thorough. “All right, if I can’t unravel it, I can cut it.”

  Glissa’s sword flashed, and the two cables holding the mage upright snapped. The elf girl caught Bruenna as she fell forward, and she saw that the cable was beginning to loosen on its own. It was all one piece—that was why she couldn’t find a loose thread.

  Gently, Glissa began to unwrap the Neurok mage. The nim were getting closer, but with luck she wouldn’t be here when they arrived. Bruenna gasped as Glissa pulled the thick cable away from her mouth.

  “No!” Bruenna cried as soon as she’d drawn breath. Suddenly the mage disappeared in a flash of blinding azure light, forcing Glissa to—

  INTERMISSION

  —raise her arms to protect her eyes from the glare. She tumbled backward and landed hard on her back, and something jabbed her painfully in the lower back. A yelp told her that she’d also landed on Geth, who let out a long stream of muffled invective aimed at her parentage. “Shut up, Geth,” she mumbled.