Chainers Torment mgc-2

by Scott McGough

  When the rhino was twenty feet away and closing, the justicar raised his hands over his head and clapped them together. A bolt of the purest white lightning leaped from the point of contact to the rhino's body and the zombified hulk literally exploded, raining fetid flesh all over the arena. Fulla swore and charged forward herself, driving the hydra as she went.

  The largest mandrill came straight at Skellum, while the others formed an attack column behind him. Two of the group broke off and circled wide around him on either side, and the main body slowed to allow them to get into position for an all-out assault. They never stopped whooping and screaming.

  Skellum's view of the arena started to shudder and melt, the first signs of the trance. He opened his eyes wider, never more desperate to find that other world within and disappear inside.

  *****

  Chainer waited outside the First's chamber until a hand attendant came to admit him. He had never been alone with the First before, and he was eager to make a good impression without Skellum to run interference for him, or Kamahl to cover for. Of course, the First was always surrounded by his attendants, but once you got used to them it was easy to overlook them as separate entities.

  Inside the chamber, Chainer was disappointed to see someone other than the First and his attendants waiting. He was a tall man, slightly blue, with small silver horns. Chainer recognized him but waited for the formal introduction.

  "Ambassador Laquatus of Mer," the First said, "meet Chainer, one of our best dementists-in-training."

  Laquatus looked Chainer over and disdainfully held out his hand, knuckles up, for Chainer to take. "Charmed." he said.

  Chainer slapped his metal hand on top of the merman's and his other hand below. He forced the ambassador's hand perpendicular to the floor and shook it vigorously, disarranging the ambassador's carefully wrapped robe.

  "The pleasure's all mine, Ambassador." Laquatus quickly withdrew his hand as soon as Chainer released it. Chainer smiled pleasantly at the merman.

  "We were just discussing the future of Otaria," the First said. "Grand stuff, but it has to start somewhere. Ambassador Laquatus and I are starting it here and now."

  "The Mer Empire is the sea, " Laquatus said, "and Cabal City is a port city. We have always had much in common."

  The First scowled slightly but went on. "But not enough in common, unfortunately. I was just describing how the crusat raids have begun again and how disruptive they are to business."

  "The Mer Empire is always concerned about maintaining the flow of commerce between the land and the depths."

  The First waited patiently for Laquatus to finish. "But not concerned enough," he added.

  "You have to understand, Patriarch," Laquatus said, "the Empire has a long, solid relationship with the Order. They aren't like you. They don't have a single ruler who speaks for them all with a single voice. While one division prepares for crusat, the others are merely trying to rebuild. Morally and economically, I cannot turn my back on the entire Order."

  Chainer choked back a snort when the Ambassador said, "morally," and he saw the shadow of a smile on the First's lips, too.

  "I would never ask you to do something so drastic as to turn your back on the entire Order," the First said. "Indeed, even we don't want the Order to be wiped out entirely. Do we, Chainer?"

  "No, Pater," Chainer's tone belied his words. "Not at all."

  "We simply want there to be peace between our two groups. Civilized people don't kill each other because of philosophical differences. I was hoping I could convince the ambassador to join us in censuring the Order. Lodging official protests over the crusat. Demanding restitution from Bretath, if he ever returns to this region. Perhaps, Ambassador" the First said, "it isn't your relationship with the Order that needs to be solidified. It's your relationship with the Cabal."

  Laquatus smiled greedily. "You have something in mind, Patriarch?" "I do. You recently lost your champion, did you not? And while it served you well, and was formidable in combat, it was never as… refined as a man of your stature requires."

  "Turg was an excellent jack," Laquatus said. "He is sorely missed." "What if my young dementist here were to provide you with a new champion? As I say, he's one of our best."

  "A most generous offer," Laquatus said, "but if we really want to strengthen the bond between us, might I suggest something even more valuable?" With the exception of the First's attendants, everyone in the room knew what he meant. Chainer's fists clenched.

  "The Mirari has already been slated as the grand prize in the Cabal City Games, to be held three months from now. My apologies, Ambassador. It is no longer mine to offer. But please," he gestured at Chainer to step up, "accept a new familiar from us. As a gesture of good faith."

  Chainer came forward. "I can make you forget the frog," he said. "Tell me what you need, and the Cabal will produce it."

  Laquatus looked him over once more. "It must be powerful. Unbeatable."

  "Then it will be."

  "It must be obedient. Minimal intelligence, highly developed instincts."

  "Then it will be."

  "It must be mobile. Able to accompany me wherever I go, above ground or below the sea." "It will be."

  Laquatus looked to the First. "When?"

  The First smiled. "Regrettably, Chainer is unavailable for the next week or so. But as soon as he returns, he will be at your disposal."

  Chainer watched the merman building a timeline in his head. "Can't he start now?"

  "Alas, no. He is still recovering from injuries suffered in the pits."

  Laquatus finished calculating. "A week, then. With your permission, Patriarch, I will stay on in the guest house and continue to enjoy the sights and sounds of Cabal City while I wait for the boy to heal."

  "Outstanding. Now, if you will excuse us, Chainer has a report to make."

  Laquatus was slow to leave, but the hand attendants gathered around him and firmly led him to the door. Chainer knew he could speak freely, for the First's attendants always escorted his guests all the way out into the street. Laquatus was just the kind to try to linger behind in order to eavesdrop. He shuddered, overcome by a fit of revulsion for the fawning politician.

  Once Laquatus was gone, the First spoke to Chainer casually. Not as an intimate, but as a peer. "I'm sorry to call you away from the pits, Caster Chainer, but the ambassador needed seeing to. It was not difficult to arrange for your replacement."

  "I am your obedient child, Pater." Chainer suddenly smelled Dragon's Blood. The First watched him with mild interest as the boy began sniffing the air.

  "Is something wrong?"

  "No, Pater. It's just that…" He sniffed again, absently looking behind him, above him, all around. "Something's… pulling me. Do you smell incense?"

  "This room is scented daily."

  "No, I mean… this room reeks of Dragon's Blood. Can't you smell it?"

  "Perhaps you should take a moment to gather yourself, Caster Chainer. You're not making sense."

  Chainer cried out and slammed the palms of his hands into his forehead. He smelled the smoke, he felt the black sand beneath his feet, he saw the mustard sky…

  "Chainer," Skellum's voice said. It was high pitched, buzzing with distortion. It cut through Chainer's head like a blade.

  "Skellum?" Chainer said, as the First's hand attendant slapped him for the third time. Chainer broke the man's collarbone with his metal fist, shoved him back, and bolted for the door. Two brawny killers leaped out of the shadows and took him down before he went four steps.

  "Don't harm him." The First spoke loudly but calmly. "Mazeura," he whispered, hissing the secret name and freezing Chainer in mid-struggle. "What is the meaning of this?"

  "Skellum," Chainer said. He was immobile beneath the weight of the First's guards and the power of his secret name on the First's lips.

  *****

  The lead wolf-monkey stopped five feet from Skellum and bared its teeth. Behind it, the rest of the troop chatt
ered and pounded the ground. Skellum himself stood with his hand raised, as if in greeting. With a start, the dementist master came back to the pit and saw the wolf-monkeys closing in. The crowd booed his complete lack of motion.

  Skellum stopped his hat with a gap in front. The leader was tensing for its charge. Skellum smiled amiably.

  "Animal," he said. The leader snarled, then dove for Skellum's face. Before its slashing fangs could latch on, however, the vortex in Skellum's head boomed and a smoking comet erupted out of his hat and crashed into the wolf-monkey. It was a near-formless horror, all shadows and teeth, but it devoured the lead mandrill whole in a single bite. It hissed, and snapped at another wolf-monkey. Then it began to fade.

  "How are you doing, Skellum?" Fulla was bedeviling Major Teroh with a pair of wolf-headed spiders and was beating Sgt. Baankis back with her gladius. She crowed happily and unleashed a zombie centaur at the justicar. Yewma cried out in horror when she saw Fulla's latest contribution, and the wolf- monkeys reoriented on the caster.

  "Better now," Skellum said, the sing-song quality of his voice resonating in his own head. "I've got a lot on my mind, however." He spat out four small comets in rapid succession, each transforming in midair. While the pack of wolf-monkeys howled and gibbered toward Fulla, Skellum sent a quartet of man-sized millipedes scurrying after them.

  Skellum saw that he had a moment's respite and let his mind drift away from the pits.

  "Chainer?" he called. "Forgive me, my boy, but I need you to see this."

  *****

  Chainer swooned and found himself standing in the pits. There was a match going on, a busy one with monkeys and toy soldiers and dementia castings and glowing knights. Chainer's hat spun before his eyes. He blinked. His hat?

  "Skellum!" Fulla called. She was tossing out monsters left and right, but she was slowly being overwhelmed.

  Chainer's vision dropped, and there were suddenly twice as many monsters fighting with Fulla. She howled again, knocking one Order soldier to his knees and ducking under another's sword.

  "I know those two," Chainer said aloud, but he didn't hear his own voice.

  "I'm sorry, Chainer," Skellum's voice said in his head, "but I couldn't go without saying goodbye."

  "What?" Chainer's voice still carried no sound. "What do you mean? That's Bunkus and Teroh, isn't it?"

  "Remember me." A vision of Skellum stood, his eyes sad and pleading. "Remember how I died." The vision put on its hat and raised a hand. "We deserve better than this, my boy."

  There was a horrific screech, and Chainer turned just in time to see a glowing knight tear a hydra's headless body in half. His skin had begun to crackle beneath his shining armor, giving the impression that he was composed only of armored plates and energy. Arcs of electricity crawled over him from head to toe.

  "Sergeant Baankis?" the glowing knight's voice clanged like a gong. "It is time." The arcs of electricity on the justicar's body began to grow bigger and brighter. They increased in number and frequency, with more and more rolling over him until his body was scarcely visible at the center of an electrical storm. The air in the pit was being stirred up as if by a great wind, and Chainer felt a deep, vibrating hum in his ear. It seemed the entire building was shaking.

  Disoriented, Chainer bowled Baankis over and took a few faltering steps toward the justicar. Whatever he was doing, it was affecting Chainer's balance. He couldn't see Fulla, but if she was still on the pit floor, she was caught in the same maelstrom he was. Chainer was willing to lose the match, but the longer this went on, the more he felt like the justicar wouldn't stop just because the flag was down. He couldn't concentrate enough to cast the death bloom or unleash a monster, so he snapped his metal arm out straight and tried to lash a chain across the justicar's face.

  Before the chain could even form, electricity leaped in one huge arc from the justicar to Chainer's body. For Chainer, the world went white. His body was blasted halfway across the arena…

  … Chainer opened his eyes in the First's private chambers, carried by cutthroats and attended by zombies.

  *****

  Skellum rose painfully to one knee. His hat was torn and burned and hung in tatters across his face. One eye was swollen shut, and he could feel the blood running freely from his nose. Fulla was down, halfway across the floor, and the smoking carcasses of their combined summonings were quickly fading away. The surviving wolf-monkeys turned and oriented on Skellum once more. "We give," Skellum called, as loudly as his burned lungs permitted. The wo If-monkeys kept coming. He saw Teroh laugh and cross his arms. The major gestured and spoke to Yewma, and the druid shrugged. With a finger on either side of her mouth, she blew two short, sharp whistles.

  The monkeys spread out and surrounded Skellum.

  "Hello," he said. "My name is Skellum, and I wear-"

  The wolf-monkey flanking Skellum's left lunged forward and hit him high on the shoulder before he could continue. Skellum felt a wet, searing slap and found himself on both knees, hat gone, face-to-naked- face with the lead primate. They stared at each other for a moment, the wolf-monkey slavering and Skellum coughing blood.

  "Finish this," Teroh said. Yewma whistled again, and the wolf-monkeys piled on to Skellum with a chorus of hideous screams. The victory horn sounded over a chorus of boos, and Yewma the druid frantically blew the signal that called off her troop. It took quite a long time to get all the blood-maddened mandrills back into their cage.

  PART THREE: DEMENTIST

  CHAPTER 18

  Chainer and the First both agreed that the shikar should continue as scheduled. Kamahl seemed concerned when Chainer asked him to replace Skellum during the ritual hunt, but he agreed immediately and without comment. Chainer realized how much he relished the barbarian's company. He had been prepared to explain the importance of the ritual itself, how important it had been to Skellum, and how fitting it would be for Chainer's partner in the pits to become his partner on shikar. If Kamahl had been a Cabalist or a merchant, he would have bantered and negotiated and otherwise extended the discussion until he figured out a way to profit from it. The barbarian, however, simply said, "Yes."

  The journey was scheduled to begin at dawn, and Chainer spent the final few hours dining with Fulla. Chainer was still too stunned to speak during his meal, and Fulla seemed ashamed of what had happened. She was not good at comforting others, but even in his state of shock, Chainer appreciated her attempts at kindness. He even asked her to accompany him on shikar, but she declined.

  "Oh, Skellum," Fulla had said wistfully. She walked around Chainer as she spoke, taking long, straight strides. "Always trying to send people somewhere. 'It's a big special journey, one step at a time, watch where you put your feet.' Always trying to keep it separate." She counted her steps out loud as she walked, then went around again, trying to reduce the count.

  "It's an important ritual," Chainer said defensively. "First you learn to perceive, then-"

  "Where do you keep your monsters, caster?" Fulla spun on one toe in front of Chainer, drew her sword, and presented it to him, hilt-first. "Where do you go to get them?"

  "I keep them in here," Chainer tapped his temple. "In my head. In the place that Skellum showed me."

  "That's good." Fulla pulled her sword back and tapped the tip thoughtfully on her chin. "Look me in the eye," she said.

  Chainer leaned down and put his face inches from Fulla's. He opened his eyes as wide as hers and stared into her blue-white irises. "Don't look away," Fulla was careful to keep her head still. "But also look over my shoulder. Take your time."

  Chainer sighed. Fulla's eyes were wide and bright. He could make out her half smile below them, and below that, the tapping point of her sword. If he concentrated, he could also make out the rows of beads in her hair, so similar to his own, and the space just beside her ear.

  "Mine are always with me," Fulla said, and suddenly Chainer could see them. Hundreds of them, perhaps thousands, lined up behind Fulla and stretching as far back as
his mind could see. Monstrous, misshapen, the shades of Fulla's monsters were always half a step behind her.

  Fulla broke eye contact then, and the phantasms disappeared. "I didn't learn from Skellum," she told Chainer. "And I can't help you like he did. But I can still do what he does." They finished their meal in silence.

  Chainer also spent his time ignoring Laquatus. The ambassador had sent numerous requests to Chainer, asking if he could come by and express his sympathies personally. Chainer left a pile of such requests lying unanswered by the door.

  The books Skellum had which described the shikar ritual were more interesting to Chainer but harder to concentrate on. He knew that shikar would be extremely difficult without Skellum's guidance. At least the actual mechanics of it seemed simple enough, and the underlying rationale made sense. He and his partner were going to walk deep into the woods and interact with as many wild creatures as they could find. They would survive on what they could scrounge or hunt down.

  The point of the exercise, as Chainer understood it, was to fill his head with fresh ideas. The more brutes he saw, the more beasts he mastered, the more he would have to draw on when he created his own creatures. Some dementists on shikar simply tried to see as many creatures as possible. Some captured the things they hunted or killed and ate them. Others were satisfied to touch their quarry or even simply to make eye contact. Each shikar was as unique as the dementist who took it, but the end objective was always the same, to align the world without to the world within and increase the dementist's ability to bridge the gap between them.

  Chainer sat with an open scroll in his lap, Dragon's Blood smoking in his censer, waiting for the sky to brighten. He hadn't slept since Skellum died, and he didn't want to. All he wanted to do was leave the city behind. If Kuberr smiled on him, he might even have the good fortune to run across a pack of wolf-monkeys while he trekked through Krosan. And then, he thought, I will show Kamahl a few things about explosions and fire.