He glanced down the moon path ahead, waiting for signs of his scouts. Just off the path, a cave led into a glade, a sylvan realm of natural bounty. He could smell the water and fruit from here, but dared not send his whole crew in, not without first getting a report. Things had a habit of not being what they seemed ever since the moon bridge had collapsed.
They had finally found their way out of the dinosaur realm, a place full of sound and fury that, in the end, signified nothing—no encounters or true obstacles. They’d heard numerous dinosaur spirits, but had glimpsed precious few of them. Then they had exited the sub-realm, walking through a thick bank of fog and coming out onto a moon path in the shapeless zone between realms, where Luna’s crescent light waxed towards fullness.
That had been a relief—finally seeing the moon. Where Luna shone, they had power and fortitude. Her power extended to the glowing moon paths, the only sure trails through a shifting and trackless wilderness of raw spirit.
They marched on, following a direction their shamans hoped would lead them home. On two different occasions, they'd investigated nearby realms, only to withdraw when attacked by unknown spirits, unformed shapes that only occasionally seemed to develop fleeting features, as if deciding what to become.
Tired from their long march, they needed rest, and Albrecht preferred to find someplace allied fully to Gaia. Even the moon paths were proving too crowded, judging from the disturbing tracks they kept finding.
The glade promised that place of rest, but hostile creatures—again, not banes, but strange spirits—barred their way. The amorphous things floated beside the entrance, their bodies composed of brilliant gases with internal fires that resembled small suns.
“All right, I’m in no mood for this, ” Albrecht said. He turned to Hardtooth. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill these things right now. They’re blocking our way. ”
Hardtooth peered at the spirits and emitted a high-pitched moan. The gases spun in place, but made no sound.
“I think they are celestial spirits, ” Hardtooth said. “From the Aetherial Realm. Perhaps the ephemeral shadows of unborn stars. It is extremely unusual to see such things here, far from the night sky. Perhaps they have been trapped here by similar moon bridge collapses. ”
“Okay, this is way past weird, ” Albrecht said. “I no longer give a damn why or how, I just want them to step aside so we can pass. ”
Hardtooth shrugged. “They do not answer my appeals. I'm not even sure they understand the spirit speech. ”
“Let's see if silver gets them moving, ” Albrecht said, stepping forward and brandishing his grand klaive. As he neared the spirits, they twirled frantically, warning him away. He kept coming. At the last moment, as he drew back his sword, they floated upwards and away, drifting off into the Umbral sky.
Albrecht nodded. “At least someone’s still got some sense. All right, way’s clear. I want scouts in there now. ” Goldflame and Eric Honnunger ran past Albrecht and crept into the cave mouth that led to the glade. Moments later, they stuck their heads back out and barked an okay.
Albrecht sheathed his klaive and turned to address the group lined up behind him, standing but obviously tired. “All right, let’s go. But be on your guard. ”
He turned again and led them to the cave. He could see the sunlight coming from within; the cave lasted for maybe fifteen feet before opening into a valley. He slipped through and came out into a fresh, pure breeze that ruffled his white fur. The sound of a trickling stream behind a bank of lush green foliage proved that the promising smell of water had not been false. Trees all around, as far as he could see, were bursting with fruit—apples, oranges, even bananas. The ecology was completely off, but it all seemed perfectly natural here. It was indeed a Gaian glade, and a good one.
He howled a quick yap of joy, echoed by his warriors, and sauntered forward to plop down by the stream, submerging his snout in its cold flow. He sat up and shook the water off, revitalized by its bracing wetness.
“Dig in, everybody, ” he said. “Drink up and eat now; we can’t stay here forever. ”
The group spread out, lapping up water from the stream or reaching up into the trees to pluck large, juicy apples, berries and even nuts. Some of them laughed, unable to maintain their serious veneer, and Albrecht joined them, his own deep chuckling giving them all permission to put their woes aside for a short time.
He shifted to human form and lay back in the grass, stretching out, exulting in the chance to relax all his muscles. Somewhere in the distance, a songbird sang. He smiled and closed his eyes, listening to its chirps.
The melodious notes suddenly stopped, followed by complete silence. Albrecht frowned and opened his eyes. Across the stream from him, Erik Honnunger, still in wolf-man form, sniffed the air and growled.
“Wyrm scent! ” he yelled.
Albrecht instantly leaped up, metamorphosing into his broad-shouldered, fur-covered battle form as he jumped the stream and drew his klaive. His warriors fell into combat positions around him, everyone’s senses alert to the source of the foul odor.
Albrecht smelled it now, the rot of decay. It drifted in from deeper in the glade. They should back out now, return to the moon bridge, and continue without a hitch. But he knew they couldn't do that. If Wyrm taint fouled this place, it was their duty to eradicate it.
He motioned a group of warriors on his right forward. They moved ahead through the bushes, cautiously searching. He signaled the left wing to move and they curved around and forward, intending to catch whatever the enemy was in a pincer. Albrecht and the small group around him planted themselves, ready to receive anything that decided to run toward them when confronted with the two flanks of Garou.
A low series of summoning barks carried over the wind, and Albrecht headed forward. He broke into a small clearing, in the center of which stood a huge yew tree. The base of the trunk was hollow, its core long since rotted away, replaced by a gaping hole from which came a greenish, flickering light. Albrecht immediately recognized it as balefire, the poisonous Wyrm light. Judging by the overwhelming scent emanating from the hollow, they’d found the Wyrm taint.
The two flanks gathered on either side of the tree, waiting on word from Albrecht. He marched up to the edge and peered within. A spiraling hole into the ground could be seen within, large enough for two Garou to walk abreast. A hard packed dirt path led downward.
Hardtooth approached. “My lord, it appears to be a hellhole. These two realms impinge upon one another. ” “Is this recent? ” Albrecht asked.
“I cannot tell. I assume that, since the glade seems to lack any corruption, whatever denizens may exist below have not yet ventured forth. Whether this is because they are unaware of the hole, or due to some unseen barrier, I do not know. ” Albrecht nodded. “Doesn’t matter. We’re not going in it. Normally, I’d do what I could to plug it, but we just don’t have the time or resources. ” He could see the relief on his warriors’ faces and in their posture. They were good, dedicated soldiers, but they wanted to get home. “All right, then. Let’s go back the way we came, slowly and cautiously. Back to the moon path. ”
He stepped back and felt suddenly weightless for a moment as the ground collapsed beneath him. Then he was falling through a roof of tangled roots and dirt, down into a cavern below. The whole meadow had collapsed, and all the Garou fell with him, plummeting into a brackish brown river.
Although the water broke their fall, some of them accidentally sucked in some of the fluid, and spent the next few moments thrashing and coughing as the vile liquid burnt their throats.
Albrecht recovered immediately upon hitting the water, and bounded to the shore. From there, he reached out and dragged Garou to the relative safety of the bank. A screeching sound erupted in the distance, down a dark passage, accompanied by a thrumming roar. Seconds later, a horde of bats exploded into the cavern, descending on the Garou, some of whom still struggled in the river.
Albrecht slashed his klaive cleanly through t
he air, chopping down three bats with one stroke, and deftly stepped aside as two more bats dove for his head. They were large, hairy, bony things, their wings tattered and fleshy. But their teeth were huge and sharp, and they didn’t need eyes to home in on their prey.
Albrecht barked a command. Three Garou stopped their assault long enough to call upon their spirit gifts, scribbling imaginary pictograms into the air, ignoring the bats landing on their shoulders. Before the things could bite, the pictograms took effect, spelling a threat to the bats. They took wing and scattered, as if pressed away from the pictogram makers by gravity. The effect extended beyond the Garou and kept the spirits at bay from most of Albrecht’s crew, except for those few still in the water.
Albrecht yelled another command. One of the warded Garou waded into the river, bearing his mystic wards with him. The bats, pressed away before its power, fled to the far side of the cavern.
Before Albrecht could reform his soldiers’ ranks, a coughing howl rang out from the passage and a horde of creatures charged forth—corrupt and tainted glade spirits, animals that crawled and dug through the earth. Giant badgers, voles and ants, swarms of beetles and snakes slithered and skittered across the floor with uncanny speed. All of them were warped and diseased, some of them ten times their normal size, with warty hides bursting through their fur, carapace s and scales.
As they hit the warriors surrounding Albrecht, it became clear that the warts were mystical. Claws skidded off them. The creatures overwhelmed the line and brought the Silver Fangs to the ground, leaping over them to charge Albrecht, as if they sensed he was the key prey.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Albrecht swung his klaive and beheaded a gigantic badger in midair as it sailed at him. Its body exploded, spraying noxious gore in all directions. The gobbets sizzled as they hit Albrecht’s armor, and he could feel a wave of pain as droplets singed bits of fur.
Something tugged at Albrecht’s leg. He looked down to see scaled coils wrapped from his ankle to his knee, quickly tightening. He shoved his claw between the coils and yanked, tearing away chunks of snake flesh. The creature’s head shot toward him, but he brought his klaive up in time, allowing the snake to skewer itself on his blade.
He heard the tortured growls of his soldiers as they suffered the acidic blood of their foes, and he stepped forward to hack at a giant beetle the size of a small tank. He slipped in the slick snake's blood and hit the ground, his klaive clattering from his grasp.
He looked up to see a swarm of carapaced larvae descending on him.
• • •
Zhyzhak stopped. Her hackles rose; there was something behind her. It wasn't a bane, or at least not a normal one, she was sure of that. Something trickier.
She kept moving, pretending to have paused only to get her bearings. The thing moved closer. She could hear its careful tread behind her as it tried to place its steps in accord with hers to muffle its sounds.
Zhyzhak spun and leaped at the thing, grasping it by its torso and slamming it into the ground. It struggled, yelling for truce, but she refused to let go, placing her full weight on it and pinning it down. She looked into its face and saw a beautiful man with flaxen blond hair and full lips.
There came another sound from nearby, also from where Zhyzhak had come. She snapped her head in that direction to look, but saw nothing, save what might have been a slight movement that swiftly vanished. She turned to look back at her prey, who now smirked at her.
“You cannot destroy me, ” he said, in a voice far too deep to be a normal man’s. “I am your deliverer. ”
Zhyzhak frowned and growled, thrusting her jaws next to the man’s throat. “Who the fuck are you? " she yelled.
“I am the Prince of Enigmas, the Master of the Eighth Circle. I can he your enemy... or your ally. You must choose. ”
“This some sort of trick? ” Zhyzhak said.
He laughed but said nothing further.
Zhyzhak stood up, releasing the man, and walked away, peering through her monocle to regain her course.
“Wait, ” the man said as he rose and dusted off his black Edwardian suit. “I came to warn you. "
Zhyzhak stopped and turned to look at him, her eyes suspicious slits.
“Believe it or not, ” the man continued, stepping closer with one hand out to her, "I want you to succeed. You have come this far. Maybe you are the one we have long waited for. The savior. ”
Zhyzhak spat. “Liar! "
“Indeed, no. I speak true. I wish to help you win through this circle’s test, and so continue on. ”
“Ha! You’re the master of this circle! Why not just let me pass? "
He shrugged. “I do not make the rules. I am as trapped by my role as you by your desire, your urge to power. "
Zhyzhak reached out and clawed his cheek, opening a bloody welt that stained his immaculate white collar. He didn’t even flinch.
“I can show you your obstacle, the being that stands in your way. ” He gestured to his right, off the path, toward a glimmering hole in space, a rent like the previous window into Zhyzhak’s desert home.
Zhyzhak peered into the window and saw a cavern. A pack of creatures, twisted nature spirits of various sorts, encircled a white-furred Garou, who lay sprawled on the ground. Nothing moved. It was as if time stood still, as if she looked at a picture, but one with incredibly realistic detail. She sucked in her breath when she saw the simple, unadorned silver band that circled the white-furred Garou's brow.
“Albrecht! ” she cried, stepping forward. Then she stopped, staring suspiciously at the man. “A trick! ” She raised her arm, ready to bring down her whip on him.
He held open his palms, as if to show that he had no weapons. “No trick. It is he, the king of the Gaians, your mortal enemy. "
“Why isn’t he moving. 7”
“You see a glimpse of time, a moment of choice, which I offer you in return for a promise. ”
“Promise? What the fuck do you want, asshole? Spit it out! ” “I want you to kill Albrecht. In return, I'll get you straight to the Ninth Circle. "
Zhyzhak stared at the fallen king, who looked angry but overwhelmed. If she did nothing, he would be engulfed by the creatures, and perhaps be wounded or killed. That last thought drove a dagger of envy through her heart— she deserved to deliver his death, not a pack of mindless beasts. She grabbed the man by his collar and shook him. “He’ll die anyway! ”
The man chuckled. “Do you really believe that? He’ll make mincemeat of them. He’s not alone. He’s got an elite guard ready to jump in. I need you to kill him before his guard can get past the creatures. ”
Zhyzhak looked again at the frozen moment of time. It was tempting. She looked at the Red Star, and then at the path underneath her feet. She threw back her head and laughed. Then she slowly walked around the window, with its view into Albrecht’s predicament, and dragged the edge of the path with her foot, forcing it to realign itself. It resisted, but by this point, she had beaten it into submission often enough for it to give in. She could forge its direction in any way she desired, even straightening it from its convoluted spirals if she so desired. She wondered for a moment what would happen if she did, but decided that now was not the time to experiment, not with her hated enemy so near, so close to her claws.
The man looked on uneasily, clearly unnerved at her ability to reposition the Labyrinth’s pathway, a sacred, mysterious artifact from prehistory. She no longer cared if he spoke the truth. Her power over the path was enough.
Once she had placed the path underneath the window, she readied herself before it and then jumped through, screaming in rage.
• • •
Before the larval horde could reach Albrecht, a terrifying wail wrenched the air, so loud the king squinted and covered his ears.
Suddenly a new shape loomed in front of him, a huge, black-clad Black Spiral Dancer. Before he could react, tearing pain exploded in his chest, shoulders and snout at once, followed by a sharp crack.
He then saw the whip fly back, ready to snap forward again, and realized what had hit him.
He knew his new foe’s identity as soon as he heard the whip-crack. Her wail alone was unmistakable. Zhyzhak.
He leaped to the side, missing the lash by millimeters, and rolled into one of the oncoming creatures, another badger, knocking its four legs out from under it. He kept rolling, trying to get as far away from the whip as he could.
The fallen badger, as big as a wolf and foaming at the mouth, lay between him and the mad bitch, buying him the time he needed. He concentrated, shutting out the distraction of his senses, and drew on the secret bestowed on him by a Luna moon spirit, calling on the sacred power of the moon itself. His fur began to take on a metallic sheen and he felt his muscles strengthen as they changed from flesh to silver. He rose up from his crouch, his body fully reforged, a thing of moon metal.
Zhyzhak leaped over the fallen badger, ready to dig her claws into Albrecht's abdomen, when she noticed the change.
It surprised her just long enough for Albrecht to knock her arm aside and rake his own claws against her hide.
She hissed and jumped back, the wound boiling from the touch of silver, agony playing across her face. Albrecht moved in to swipe again, but she threw her hand forward and flung a hot, green-glowing ball of fire at him, conjured in an instant by her own gifts.
He couldn’t dodge in time. It glanced off his shoulder, sending sparks flying. He grunted in shock but felt no burning; the silver protected him.
Zhyzhak backed up, trying to gain distance, where she could use her whip and keep him at bay, but she failed to notice the Silver Fang warrior behind her. He had beaten past one of the huge ants to thrust a spear at her. It grazed her back, causing her to leap forward in surprise, slashing back behind herself with her claw as she did so. Her assault scraped the warrior’s snout. He cried out in pain.
World of Darkness - [Time of Judgment 02] - The Last Battle Page 12
