Cobaru nodded. "Then you've already got more of an idea than most people. You saw those tunnels. What were they like?"
Salim thought for a minute. "Old," he said at last. "Some of them looked recently repaired, but others looked like they'd been there since the world began. There were places we passed that seemed to have been inhabited at one point—one chamber had a bunch of doors and columns carved out of the rock. All of them were blocked off, though."
Again Cobaru nodded. "That's the Duskwardens' real job. This city may seem like a warren, but it's just the tip of the iceberg. Beneath it are a thousand tunnels and caverns honeycombing the cliff, and beyond down into the earth. Once upon a time, things would come up out of them—creatures no one had ever seen, and didn't know how to deal with. That's why the city formed the Duskwardens: to keep all the entrances to the Undercity blocked off, and make sure that everything born below stayed below."
He went silent. After a moment, Salim asked, "And you think these murders might have something to do with the things that live below the city?"
Cobaru shook his head. "Unlikely. It's rare that anything from the Undercity escapes. When they do, they usually cause a scene right away, go on a rampage and get put down."
"And when they don't?"
Cobaru showed his fangs. "Then they work their way up until they've got a nice little tower apartment overlooking the city."
paizo.com #3236236, Corry Douglas
Chapter Seven
Thought and Memory
Cobaru reclaimed his glass, which had been forgotten on the seating-pit's ledge. He took a long drink, then continued.
"There's a place," he said, "far below what most people think of as the Undercity—the tombs, the dungeons, the twilit caverns and fungus-rifts. A city that was purposefully forgotten, and that not even the Duskwardens remember. The City Beneath."
He glanced at Salim for any sign of recognition. Finding none, he continued.
"Kaer Maga has always been inhabited, you know. Long before Azlant and the fall of the Starstone, before the Age of Darkness and the emergence of orcs and dwarves, before the elves left and returned again, this great ring of stone stood here. Who built it and why is anyone's guess, but when the first humans stumbled upon it, there were already things living in its hollowed walls. Creatures both like and unlike humans. Gaunt things, with two mouths and no eyes.
"The first humans to encounter them named them the Caulborn, for the hoods of blank skin that covered the tops of their faces. They came from—elsewhere. Somewhere in the Outer Planes, I think. They were scholars, but more than that—they were mnemovores. Thought-eaters. They collected knowledge, hoarding it like bees making honey, but they couldn't actually create it themselves. They needed their information predigested by other conscious entities. Why they were here all alone, I don't know. Perhaps they were waiting.
"When the first human empire rose here, ancient Thassilon, the Caulborn were happy enough to share what they knew and work for the empire's runelords. All they asked in exchange was the chance to feed—to drink in the new thoughts and memories that younger races were so quick to form. In time the monument became a prison colony, and the Caulborn its wardens.
"You already know how that story ends, though. When the Starstone fell, shattering empires and kicking up a cloud that blotted out the sun, the Caulborn saw the chaos that was coming. They retreated beneath the city—deep, deep beneath—caving in and blocking off the tunnels behind them so that no desperate tide of refugees could follow. They went down as far as they dared, and in one of the deepest caverns they built a new city: Xavorax, City of Silence. Yet they knew they couldn't live entirely alone—they still needed the influx of processed ideas. And so they searched out and fostered a breed of people to take with them as servants. Ones that might live as long as they did, and prove as easy to feed."
"Vampires," Salim said.
"Precisely." Cobaru finished off his wine and set the glass back on the stone. "It's beautifully simple, really: the Caulborn feed on the vampires' thoughts, and the vampires drink the Caulborn's blood. It's a closed loop—perfect symbiosis. A system that's lasted for thousands of years, so long that everyone on the surface has forgotten it even exists. Everyone gets what they need."
"Except not everyone."
Cobaru smiled joylessly.
"An elegant system is not the same as a pleasant one. As I said, Kaer Maga was a prison city under the Caulborn, and the vampires that live in the Deep City are prisoners still. They live to read, and think, and watch the scrying spells that tell them of the outside world, so that the Caulborn can fatten their grotesque brain-sacs on the servants' thoughts. Half the vampires while away their time in petty political posturing, while the other half stone themselves into ‘enlightening trances' via hallucinogenic magic, or sport with the exotic slaves the Caulborn sometimes bring back from their planar walkabouts, along with books. Always more books."
"Sounds like the nobility anywhere," Salim noted.
The vampire's lip curled. "Don't mock me, priest. Have you ever been a slave?"
Salim said nothing, but something in his posture must have given him away. Cobaru's gaze lost some of its violence.
"Then you understand," he said. "It's not what we're forced to do, but rather that we're forced to do it."
Salim wondered if the vampire realized he'd begun saying we rather than they. "So why don't they escape?"
Cobaru snorted. "Most vampires born to Xavorax never chafe at their servitude—they think of the outside world as something made for their entertainment, via the scrying spells. They would be terrified to travel beyond the deep caverns. And even if they wanted to, the ancient magic that originally bound the vampires to their prison still holds. A vampire of Xavorax may never travel beyond the bounds of Kaer Maga's walls—not north, south, east, or west." He gritted his teeth. "The pain is...singular in its intensity."
Salim grasped the implications immediately. "But vertically..."
Cobaru nodded. "Exactly. We can never move beyond the ring—but we can go as far above or below it as we like. The magic which allows us to live in Xavorax also allows us to live in Kaer Maga, as it did millennia ago.
"The Caulborn know this. Every so often they send a scout to the surface, to acquire something they need from the City Above, or to manipulate events there. The vampires chosen for such tasks are considered heroes by some, insane daredevils by others. Yet the Caulborn are careful in their preparations and magical bindings, and the scouts always return."
"Except you," Salim said.
Cobaru bared his teeth again, this time with pride. "Oh, I returned. I played the good servant and did precisely as I was asked, learned everything I needed to know about their methods. But I had seen the outside. After that, it was simply a matter of waiting. For twenty years I made no move, showed no interest in returning. I let them believe I was content. And then, when they had all but forgotten about me, I stole what magic I needed and left them."
Despite his professional detachment, Salim found himself getting drawn into the vampire's story. "They came after you?"
"Naturally. Yet the same tactics they'd taught me for avoiding detection hid me from them as well. Unwilling to expose themselves, they're restricted to a few agents here and there, plus their constant scrying spells. For a hundred and fifty years, we've fought a shadow war against each other. So far, they haven't found me."
"And in the meantime, you've built a tidy little empire for yourself."
Cobaru waved at the walls. "The people who live in these towers value their privacy. They don't ask a lot of questions, and their servants ask even fewer." For a moment, his eyes grew distant, and his voice soft. "And it's as far away from the city as I can get."
"Fascinating," Salim said honestly. Most of the tales he heard from undead creatures—usually in the moments before he was forced to silence them forever—were nowhere near as grand, and the tiny bells in the dista
nce pealed out confirmation of each new claim. "Yet we've strayed from our original course. You believe the Caulborn might be involved in this soul-stealing business?"
"Soul-stealing?" Cobaru echoed, surprised, and Salim realized he'd said more than he intended. He was getting sloppy.
"No," the vampire said, "murder isn't their way, and soul-stealing makes even less sense. Memory-stealing, perhaps, and even slave-taking, but I can't see them bothering with souls. No, I don't think they're involved—but you must understand, their scrying spells are everywhere. The Caulborn are master scholars, capable of logical leaps and deductions you and I can barely understand. And they never, ever forget. If anyone can give you the answers you're looking for, it's them."
"I see," said Salim. "And you can tell me how to contact them."
"Absolutely not." The vampire's tone was flat, matter-of-fact. "Not a chance in hell."
"Cobaru," Salim said, "I thought we were finally beginning to—"
"Beginning to what?" The vampire leapt from the cushioned pit and began pacing back and forth across the tiled floor. "A hundred and fifty years, Salim. And you ask me to compromise my position as if it's nothing!"
"Not nothing," Salim said calmly. "The price of retaining your cover. And I swear to you by whatever oaths you wish that I won't reveal your secret."
"Idiot! You don't have to reveal my secret. They eat thoughts. Just knowing it makes you a liability. If they get inside your head, it's all over."
Salim stood as well, hand on sword hilt. "Calm yourself, Cobaru. I won't ask again."
"Oh you won't, will you?" The vampire turned toward him, fingers flexing. His face was dangerously blank.
"Do I need to remind you that the eyes of the Spire are watching all of this?" Salim said. "If anything happens to me, they'll know who and what you are. And they're decidedly less lenient than I am with creatures of your kind."
Cobaru growled, a shockingly bestial sound, but after a moment his hands relaxed, and his posture returned to normal. He began pacing again, this time more thoughtfully and less like a caged wolf.
Salim didn't push him. At last the vampire stopped and gave Salim a thoughtful look.
"There might be a way," he said. "But you're not going to like it."
"That's nothing new."
Cobaru ignored him. "You understand that I can't let you interact with the Caulborn while knowing my identity. It would be suicide."
"So you say."
"So it is. I've no doubt you're a man of your word, Salim, but I've seen creatures you can't even imagine give up their deepest secrets to these things like a maiden on her wedding night. It's not something honor can protect you against. The only defense is not knowing." He smiled. "So you need to not know."
Salim frowned. "I don't follow."
"There's a spell—one that occasionally comes in handy when a deal goes wrong, or someone finds out something they're better off not knowing." Cobaru shook his head. "I really should have used it on Mubb—but never mind. The point is, its magic can erase a memory, or change it."
Salim didn't like where this was going.
"If you meet with the Caulborn or their agents, they'll assume you learned about them from me. But if I can erase your memory of my identity—maybe lay a false trail saying that you met me in Absalom, after I somehow found a way to break the magic binding me to the city—then there's no risk. It might even work to my advantage."
Now it was Salim's turn to go dangerously still. "You want to lobotomize me. To root around inside my brain."
The vampire held up his hands. "It won't hurt at all, I promise. And I won't touch anything except the memories related to me and my nature." Another smile. "And like you say, we both need to trust each other."
True, the spell chimed. Salim could have sworn the little bells were laughing at him.
"Fine," he said. "Presuming we follow your plan, how am I supposed to make contact with these Caulborn?"
"With this." Cobaru reached inside his long jacket and withdrew something from an inner pocket. He held it out toward Salim.
It was a stone, perhaps six inches long, in the wide-bottomed trapezoidal shape common to gold bars. It was dark gray and perfectly smooth, save for an unfamiliar sigil carved in the center of its top face.
"A lintel stone?" Salim asked.
Cobaru seemed to deflate slightly. "You've seen one before."
"Once or twice." Yet if anything, Salim was more impressed. Lintel stones were keys—portable gateways to anywhere. On the Outer Planes, those strange realms where gods dwelled and souls started new lives after death, the wealthy and powerful sometimes used them to step between planes or from one location to another across literally infinite distances. As it turned out, Salim had his own means of moving between the planes—the amulet hanging around his neck—but that didn't make Cobaru's treasure any less valuable.
"It's how I escaped," Cobaru went on, clearly warming to the chance to tell his story. "The Caulborn have all sorts of artifacts, but I learned of this one during my service as a scout. When the time came, I stole it and used it to transport myself to the surface."
"And you never tried to use it to go somewhere else? With the magic in that stone, you could have stepped straight to Geb and joined their undead nobility."
Cobaru shook his head. "I've tried to leave the city before. As I said, the old magics still hold. The repercussions are...unpleasant."
Salim nodded. "So how do you propose we proceed?"
Cobaru waved the stone. "Simple enough. I wipe you of any incriminating memories, then you use the stone to step through to the City Below."
"Step through? Into the middle of a city of vampires and thought-eaters? Why not arrange something on neutral ground?"
But Cobaru was already shaking his head. "It has to be there. The city is where they store their memories. And if you think I'm about to let you call one of them or their agents up here for your little parley, you're out of your mind. This is already too close for comfort. No, you step through with the stone, and then my part's done." He paused, then added, "Once you return and I'm confident you're no longer being watched, my people will retrieve the stone. I'm not in the practice of tithing."
"Certainly," Salim said, more confidently than he felt. "So, when do we do this?"
Cobaru gave him a significant look.
"Now?" Salim tried and failed to keep his voice level. "I'm hardly provisioned for a subterranean expedition."
"If this turns into an expedition, you're already screwed. Without the lintel stone, all the prayers and goddess-granted luck in the world won't get you back to the surface through those tunnels. There are things down there that even the City of Silence fears. And it's a long way down. No, you'll be back in less than a day, or you won't be coming back at all."
"How comforting."
"Furthermore," the vampire continued, as if Salim hadn't spoken. "If you think I'm letting you walk out of here with all my secrets and my lintel stone, to have some time to think it over and perhaps lose your nerve or decide that you don't really need to bargain with some undead monstrosity, then you're clearly not as good a judge of character as you appear."
The vampire had a point. Salim nodded.
"Excellent," Cobaru said. "In that case..."
In a fluid, startlingly quick motion, the vampire swept up his empty wineglass and flung it sidearm into the stone wall. The crystal goblet exploded in a shower of musical shards.
Once more one of Cobaru's women ran into the room, crossbow raised. This time it was a flame-haired beauty, freckles scattered across the creamy expanse of her exposed shoulders. Her finger tightened on the trigger.
Cobaru raised a hand. "At ease, Dhaya. The good priest and I have come to an arrangement. I need you to fetch something from my study—a scroll. It should be in a lead tube approximately an inch in diameter, sealed with metal foil and an impression of a dragon chasing an imp. On the third shelf of the western case, I believe. The study's keyword tod
ay is ‘tarragon.'" The woman started to leave, and Cobaru stopped her with a slight elevation of one finger. "Oh, and Dhaya—touch nothing else. I'd hate to lose you so soon."
The woman's light skin paled slightly, and she completed her exit. Cobaru turned back to Salim, grinning.
That smile was starting to irritate Salim. "I'm not a priest."
"And I'm not a monster. But we are what we're perceived to be, no?" Smiling wider, Cobaru tapped the floor three times and clucked his tongue, as if to goad a reluctant horse.
The shards of wineglass shook and swirled, time seeming to reverse as glass dust spiraled up in a coalescing cloud. In a heartbeat, the goblet was whole once more. It snapped back into Cobaru's hand as if pulled by an invisible string. He eyed it cursorily and then placed it back on the ledge.
"Was that really necessary?" Salim asked.
Cobaru shrugged. "I like to keep them on their toes. Novelty keeps them fresh, helps them last longer up here in our padded prison. Ah, there we are!"
The woman had returned, this time bearing a tube about a foot long. Cobaru accepted it with a smile and a kiss on the consort's hand before allowing her to retire to whatever post she and the others held outside the doorway. Once she was gone, Cobaru broke the specified foil seal with his thumb and withdrew a tightly rolled sheet of parchment and a small green gemstone. He tapped the paper against his lips and looked around the room, considering.
"There," he said at last, gesturing with the scroll. The arch he indicated led into an alcove holding a mother-of-pearl sculpture of a tree whose branches were snakes. Much like the doorway the women kept entering and leaving through, this one had a thick border of decorative stone limning it, creating a lip several inches wide. Cobaru walked over to it and balanced the lintel stone atop it. Salim followed.
"When you're ready to return," Cobaru said, "simply place the stone over any doorway-shaped opening and think hard about where you want to go. Then grab the stone and walk through." Dark eyes bored into Salim's. "Do not return to my apartments."
Salim nodded. His veins were beginning to buzz with adrenaline. "Is there anything else I should know about the city? Or its residents?"
Pathfinder Tales: The Redemption Engine Page 8
