Nera cleared her throat. “We’ve lingered long enough. Let’s be on with it.” She glanced around nervously, but nobody had taken notice of them or the missing guards yet. She made sure her daggers were readily accessible and silently implored Sabyl for luck.
“May the gods smile on us all.” Malek stepped into the portal, his form appearing to stretch and distort impossibly long before he was all the way through. Nera and Endira quickly followed.
***
They found themselves in a cavernous room not unlike a great warehouse. Malek stepped out onto a deck overlooking the floor below, the women right behind him. His jaw dropped in shock at the scene.
“Balor’s balls,” Nera whispered in awe.
The space was larger than any building Malek had ever seen. Blue magelights illuminated many score, perhaps hundreds, of chairs lined up in neat rows as far as the eye could see. The chairs were spaced a few paces apart, and strapped to them were humanoid figures of varying ages, races, and genders. A convoluted system of pipes ran throughout the room. An attendant was visible in the distance, apparently studying one of the humanoids before marking on a scroll and walking away out of sight.
Endira’s comely features twisted in a scowl. “What in the name of the gods? This is… perverse.”
Malek couldn’t agree more. With his second sight, he could track the bright glow of mana being extracted from the people bound in the chairs and fed into the pipes. The humanoids glowed weakly with mana and vitality, but the tubes and pipes were hot flares of magical energy. What was a mere trickle drawn from each being became a raging river downstream.
“So this is where they produce the mana used in the foundry to power the city. I always wondered where it came from, but never could I imagine such despoilment.” Endira shuddered.
Nera looked around wide-eyed. “This is not what I was expecting. They are like some fiendish farmers milking cows.”
“They are being harvested.” Malek felt anger ignite within him, and he automatically opened his senses to pull in power before he caught himself and clamped down his control. “This is an outrage. Let’s find Magellan and be away from here.” They started down a stone staircase to the ground level.
The first person they came across was a human male bound to a chair, wearing naught but a loincloth. The iron chair was a rune-engraved monstrosity, which made Malek instinctively shy away from its fell enchantment. The man’s eyelids were partially open, revealing nothing but whiteness, and a mask covered the lower half of his face. Malek pulled the mask gently away, only to find a tube running down the man’s throat. A similar pair of tubes extended through a slot in the bottom of the chair, where it attached to his genitals and anus. A metal cap was seated on his head with yet another tube running from it.
“What manner of deviltry is this?” Nera scowled at the man’s plight.
Malek shook the man and slapped him on the cheek, but his eyes remained rolled back. He clenched his jaw grimly. “We must find Magellan, but I fear it may be too late for him. Let’s spread out.” He almost didn’t want to find his master, fearing he’d met the same miserable fate as the others.
Nera and Endira split off to adjacent rows, moving from seat to seat and searching for Magellan based on Malek’s description of a human male of about seventy winters. They quickly moved through the warehouse, checking the poor souls harnessed in the chairs as they went.
“Malek, over here,” Endira called.
Malek rushed over to find an elderly human with gray hair and a long flowing beard. At first, he thought it was Magellan but, after pulling the mask away, realized it wasn’t.
“Damn it!” he cried. He grew more frustrated and angry by the minute. They neared the end of the first three rows. Malek guessed a score of the harvesting chairs stood in each row, and he couldn’t yet determine how many more rows they’d have to search, for they disappeared in the distance.
That’s three score already—people who have disappeared, with families and loved ones unknowing of their fates.
“We’ll keep looking.” Endira placed a comforting hand on Malek’s arm.
Malek just nodded and returned to his row to continue the search. They searched three more rows each before they were challenged.
“You aren’t allowed in here,” a voice called out. A stout older man scowled at Malek. He wore a gray smock and held a rolled-up scroll and a quill in one hand. “Intru—”
Silencing the attendant was a simple matter. Malek simply drew a bit of power from the glowing pipes and threw an invisible noose over the man’s neck, choking off his cry. He tightened it, and the man’s face turned purple as he choked for breath.
“Malek, look here!” Nera waved at him.
He released the man, who collapsed, gasping for air. Malek raced over to Nera and knew immediately they’d found Magellan. He was shocked at how frail his master looked nearly naked, save for a loincloth. The old man was naught more than bone and sinew, his rib cage showing sharply beneath the stretched, wrinkled skin. Purple bruises marred his pale skin from the tight restraints.
Upon closer examination of the black, shiny tubes attached to Magellan’s frail form, Malek thought of some manner of living monster, its tentacles violating the old man’s body. The tubes melded with the pipes running along the floor, which converged in the distance and fed into a massive machine. Even as they studied it, Malek saw the tentacle attached to the cap on Magellan’s head pulsing slightly as if pumping mana from the old mage’s body.
In the distance, attendants fussed with the machine, filling casks of glowing mana in a manner similar to a tapped ale keg. They loaded the casks onto a large pallet.
“I’m going to cut him loose.” Nera slashed Magellan’s bonds, Lightslicer easily severing the thick leather binding his wrists and ankles.
Malek pulled the tube free from the old man’s throat. A pale, milky substance dripped from the end of the tube before Malek cast it aside—whether a form of drug or sustenance, he knew not. He removed the helm and let it drop to clang loudly against the back of the iron chair. The mage was unresponsive, eyes rolled back and mouth sagging open. Unrestrained, he would’ve slumped to the floor, had it not been for Malek’s support.
Damn these bastards to the lowest level of the Abyss. I’ll make them pay for this.
“Ugh… I’ll let you get the other end,” Nera wrinkled her nose at the tubes attached to the old man’s genitals and anus. She put Magellan’s right arm over her shoulder, helping him upright after Malek cast the offending tentacles aside.
“Master, can you hear me?” Malek asked gently. He snapped his fingers in front of the old man’s face.
Magellan wobbled on his feet like a newborn calf, his muscles remembering how to hold him upright, but he had no sentience. His eyes remained unseeing and his mouth open, with drool leaking down his chin.
The patient, kindly old man who had been a surrogate father to him for years had been reduced to a drooling, mind-addled invalid. Red-hot fury surged through Malek, and he barely restrained himself from lashing out wildly with his power.
“His consciousness is barely there… I can try touching his mind to see if he can be roused,” Endira said.
Malek stared, frozen by indecision while waging a silent battle against his disgust and anger, to maintain a tight grip on his power.
“What do you want to do about him, Malek?” Nera asked. “We might still be away before the guards are summoned although it will be slow going unless Endira can rouse him.”
“We need to get him away from here… The clerics at one of the temples can surely help him,” he said desperately. “Leave him for now,” he told Endira.
“We must hurry,” Endira cautioned. “I sense guards approaching.”
“Let them come. This place offends me—I’m going to destroy it,” Malek vowed.
“Be careful not to hurt the innocents trapped here,” the elf said.
Shouts reached their ears as Magehunters approached.
At least a score of them poured down the stairs and through the aisles. Within seconds, Malek and his companions were surrounded by crossbow-wielding soldiers.
Nera had her daggers in hand. A nimbus of magical energy glowed around Endira’s head as she focused her skills. Magellan was still unresponsive, propped up awkwardly between Malek and Nera.
“Let us leave this foul place,” Malek said, ignoring the Magehunters.
“Halt!” A seasoned veteran stepped forward, likely a sergeant. “You are intruding on a restricted area. Unhand the prisoner and surrender now or be struck down!”
“Do your best to strike me down,” Malek answered.
He pulled on the phenomenal amount of power surrounding him, letting it surge into him until his nerves were tingling. He focused the energy into a concentrated blast. A glowing arc of power exploded out from around them in a circular pattern, blasting Magehunters several paces away. The soldiers flew as if they were dried leaves caught in a gale. He focused the force into a physical, crushing blow, knowing their magic resistance would absorb magical attacks. They slammed into chairs, pipes, and walls with enough force to dent armor and break bones. One of the chairs creaked and wobbled from the thrown body of a Magehunter breaking against it, but it stayed upright. The warrior didn’t, falling bonelessly to the ground. A pipe was cracked, and mana spewed into the air like a blinding geyser of power to Malek’s second sight.
“The path is clear! Come on.” Endira led the way back toward the deck the entry portal had opened on.
Malek and Nera had to drag Magellan a few steps before his legs started to move of their own accord. He hobbled along on his own power as they supported him.
They were nearly clear of the aisle when a huge figure suddenly appeared in front of them. One instant, the path was clear, and the next, the being teleported in front of them with a slight whoosh of displaced air.
The three of them halted in shock at the monstrosity facing them. It stood about eight feet tall, with shoulders broad as an ox, resembling a simple clay figure sculpted by a clumsy child into the form of a humanoid. The giant had crude limbs and facial features, with metal plates driven through its body, bisecting the chest vertically, and two more horizontally through the abdomen. A black plate of iron was nailed across its mouth. The creature’s eyes were bulging, milky-white orbs. Malek thought the creature might have once worn the armor before it was rearranged throughout its body.
A sense of dread radiated from the creature, and Malek fought a strong urge to turn and flee. However, his boiling anger and the power surging through his body gave him a sense of recklessness that shrugged off the fear.
“Warder!” Nera looked terrified. “Sabyl help us.”
“It is said the Warders once were a band of mighty warriors who tried to overthrow the Pale Lord,” Endira said quietly. She had evidently steeled her will against the Warder’s aura of fear. “They failed, quite spectacularly, as the ruler of Nexus crushed them into pulp in their suits of armor before rearranging them to suit his needs. They now serve him for all eternity.”
“We don’t have time for history lessons, elf. We must find another way out. Right now!” Nera backed away, leaving Malek holding Magellan.
Malek leaned Magellan against the nearest iron harvesting chair. The old man stood awkwardly, oblivious to what was happening.
The Warder remained motionless, blocking their escape. From behind Malek, Nera’s curse drew his attention. Another Warder had appeared behind them. Two more blocked the paths to the sides.
Trapped. Malek felt the immense power of the creatures, but instead of a bright flare of magic, it was somehow defiled—a darkness which threatened to suck him in.
“Corruptor, you will cease all actions now!” The voice thundered from all around them.
Malek felt the power behind the voice rumble through his bones. The Pale Lord speaks.
“We surrender!” Nera cried, raising her hands.
The Warder in front simply raised its hand, palm out toward Nera. Malek saw the awful power surge an instant before it fired a ray of darkness from its hand.
Nera somehow managed to avoid the blast, diving and tumbling to one side. The Warder’s magical attack hit one of the pipes, and it simply ceased to be, crumbling into wisps of darkness. Mana erupted, a volcanic fount which Malek seized.
He threw everything he had into the lead Warder, channeling the energy into a force so powerful it would crush the creature to pulp.
The attack simply evaporated as it touched the Warder.
Malek stood there, shocked. Can it absorb magic like me?
A warning from Endira drew his attention. The other three were advancing, hemming them in.
Malek glanced around to see Nera unleash a flurry of daggers at the Warder nearest to her. The blades had as much effect as if they had been thrown at a soldier’s padded training dummy. The daggers were buried to the hilt within the bloated, sickly flesh, yet no blood was drawn.
“What do we do? Can you absorb that thing’s power somehow?” Nera seemed on the verge of panic.
“Good question,” Malek muttered grimly. He focused his second sight on the blighted power forming the Warder, tracing the threads holding it together, seeking to unravel the knot.
Endira attacked the nearest Warder, her arms having morphed into slender blades. She slashed at it and danced away, but the creature remained motionless. Bloodless gashes marred its flesh, but it was uninjured. “This beast has no mind to touch… It is little more than a golem of flesh controlled by its master. My powers are useless.” Fear stole across her normally calm visage.
Nera attacked the Warder nearest her again, leaping up until her feet landed on one of the metal plates protruding from its torso. She stabbed down, burying both long daggers to the hilts in the creature’s head. It swung a huge fist at her, and she leaped away, landing and balancing lightly on a mana pipe. The creature’s arm crunched against the sharp plates. It dropped its arm, and strings of gore stretched from its forearm to the sharpened plates in its abdomen.
Malek found the source of the magic holding the foul thing together, but before he could act, the Warder raised its palm again, at Malek this time, and he saw the power surging. He was floored by the ebony ray that washed over him. For an instant, Malek felt his body nearly torn apart piece by piece, but then he got a grasp on the power. He redirected the attack at another Warder, but the blast of negative energy washed over its fellow Warder to no effect.
The assault relented, and Malek fell to his knees, sickened by the corruption that had flooded him. His hands shook, and he retched onto the ground.
“Malek?” Nera shook him gently. “If you’ve got anything to defeat them, now would be the time.”
“Watch out!” Endira shouted.
Nera tackled Malek, and another beam crackled overhead, striking Magellan with a glancing blow. The old man’s right arm and rib cage disappeared before he was turned inside out, the rest of him sucked into the void. With the sound of a dropped melon, he was gone, and only ash remained, fluttering gently toward the ground.
“Master—nooo!” Malek cried. He shoved Nera off him and surged to his feet. He grasped the knot of power at the center of the Warder, and with a savage yank, he tore apart the magic holding the golem together.
The Warder literally exploded. Meat and metal rained around it. Gore splattered Malek, but he didn’t care. He turned and ripped the magic bindings from the three remaining Warders, to similar effect.
The perverted power rushed through him, and he became dizzy. He stumbled and fell, and darkness closed in.
***
Nera knelt over Malek, her momentary elation at his destroying the Warders battling with her worry at the cost to him. He was clearly unwell: his complexion pale and his skin blotchy and feverish. After several frantic minutes of her and Endira prodding Malek and calling his name, he finally opened his eyes. Nera gasped as a cloud of inky darkness swirled in the whites of his eyes before disapp
earing. Endira flinched beside her, having witnessed it as well.
“Malek? Are you hurt?” Nera gently shook him again, and his eyes focused slowly on the two of them.
“He was forced to take that corruption unto himself. I fear what it might do to him,” Endira said. “What kind of bizarre magic do you wield, Malek?”
“Answer that later,” Nera replied. “The time has come to flee far from here… off plane, preferably. I fear the Pale Lord will not be pleased with the destruction of his zombie puppets.”
The two women pulled Malek to his feet.
He staggered for a moment before retaining his balance. “Magellan…”
Nera touched his cheek in sympathy for his distress, both physical and emotional. She met his eyes and shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry… He’s gone. But he was practically gone before all this—from the time they hooked him up to that damned harvesting chair. Right now, we need you to snap out of it. You can have your vengeance later. We’ll make those bastards pay for Arron and now Magellan.”
Malek hung his head, and tears filled his eyes, whether of sorrow or rage, Nera knew not. She ached to comfort him, but this was neither the time nor the place. She had to settle for his arm across her shoulder. Endira supported him on the other side.
The three of them slowly made their way toward the stairs leading up away from the floor of the mana factory. Nera didn’t voice her fear to the others, but she wasn’t confident the portal would appear from the inside at the same location. In her experience, it was a dice toss as to whether Nexus portals were one- or two-way.
Malek seemed to regain his strength after they walked about a dagger’s toss. She could tell he was filled with magical power, for she had to fight down the urge to sneeze. He shrugged off the women’s aid and stood on his own.
“I ought to tear this thrice-damned place down around these bastards’ ears.” Malek’s voice was low and chilling.
Before any of them could react, the world suddenly tilted around Nera, and she was tumbling into a gaping portal along with the others. Her stomach surged into her throat. She barely had time to cry out before they smacked down on a cold flagstone floor.
The Twilight City Page 24
