by Tim Paulson
“I told you not to play with that!” Liam said.
Henri leaned over and took the dismembered hand from his son. There was surprisingly little blood on the severed end.
“I guess that answers my next question.”
“About what?” Liam said.
“Hey!” Adem said, grimacing. “That's mine!”
“Go play with something other than body parts Adem!” Henri said, firmly.
“Maybe we can put him back together!” Adem said with excitement.
“Maybe,” Henri said to his son, standing up. He looked to Liam. “The next question was going to be about the guys in the cloaks.”
“They're dead,” Liam said with finality.
Henri raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? They're not exactly regular people.”
“I'm sure,” Liam said confidently. “There are pieces of them all over the place. I don't care what they were, you don't survive that.”
Henri surveyed the room. There were indeed chunks of both of them spread out all over. I survived it, he thought grimly. If I could, they could. Lord only knows what other tricks they have up those baggy sleeves.
“I'm Henri by the way,” he said, extending a hand.
Liam took it without hesitation. The handshake was firm, confident.
“I haven't felt a man's handshake in too long,” Henri said, smiling. Oddly, the kid looked familiar. “Do I know you?”
Liam shook his head. “Ah, nah... I'm sure you don't.” He did not lie very well. Henri decided it wasn't worth the trouble digging it out of him.
“You said we before,” Henri said, eyebrows raised.
“I did?”
“Yes.”
“Oh right. I'm here with a girl named Celia. We're looking for someone. We're sure they took him here. It's the only place around this city that isn't ruined.”
“By they I assume you mean these guys,” Henri said, holding up the disembodied hand.
“Right. Our... friend... He was abducted by... ah.” Liam appeared to struggle with himself.
“By what?”
“It feels stupid now that I'm about to say it. I promise I'm not a fool!”
Henri just stared at the kid and tossed the dismembered hand on to the ground next to him.
Liam nodded. “Yeah I guess you've seen some stuff too. Well it was a giant tree... thing. It picked him up and took him.”
“I saw one of those when I came in. It stole one of your people?”
At that moment one of the skull creatures appeared from a dark alcove to Henri's left. It carried two black and white striped towels in its outstretched limbs.
“Ha!” Liam said as he pushed Henri's shoulder, placing himself between Henri and the creature while yanking a very expensive looking rapier from its scabbard.
“No!” Adem said.
Henri was too stunned to say anything. He could only watch while Liam lunged forward and slashed right into the center of poor Daniel who cowered in terror.
The sword clinked.
“What happened to my sword?” Liam said with a groan, a disgusted look on his face. “All the veil is gone!”
“Don't kill him!” Henri said.
“He's our friend!” little Adem said as he ran up to stand in front of Daniel the black tentacled deer skull headed monstrosity.
Henri found himself shaking his head. What a week he was having.
“What? How?” Liam gaped at them.
“His name is Daniel,” Henri said. Now it was his turn to say something that felt embarrassing. “He just went to draw us a bath.”
Daniel nodded enthusiastically but then stopped, dropping both towels to the rubble strewn floor. The top most two tentacles went to the sides of its deer skull head in an expression that could only be read as surprise and disbelief. It turned to face Henri, tentacles out at its sides, questioning.
“Everything exploded. I don't know why,” he said.
Adem was now giggling again. When he looked to find out why he jumped back, startled. The dismembered hand of Vex the wizard was now twitching on the floor like a dying fish.
“And you're sure he's dead?” Henri ventured again, grimacing.
“I'm sure!,” Liam said. “Look, there's a part of an elbow and over there I think that's the end of his nose.”
“I hope it's his nose,” Henri said.
“What? Ugh...“ Liam said shaking his head.
Daniel was drooped over now, all seven of his appendages hanging to the floor as the skull atop them stared off into space listlessly, then something seemed to register with it. The creature stepped forward, looking down at a piece of one of Vex's limbs, and stood there, two tentacles clasped in front of it, as if thinking.
Adem ran up and wrapped his little arms around the creature's many stilt-like tentacles, giving him what could only be described as a loving embrace.
“You can still help us. We need you Daniel,” Adem said as he squeezed the him.
“Adem's right, we could use your help,” Henri said.
Daniel looked up at them, then back down at the black and white towels lying crumpled on the floor amid shards of broken white crystals, sprinkles of powdery gray dust and small red and gray lumps of flesh.
“Yes. I do still want that bath and Adem definitely needs one-”
“Yech,” Adem said, making a face.
“-but didn't you say you were looking for someone?” Henri said, looking to Liam.
Liam perked up. “Yes... can that thing help us? I'd love nothing more than to find him and get the hell out of here.”
Henri looked over to Daniel.
“This young man says someone might have been brought here against his will. Do you know where he would have been taken?”
The horned skull nodded.
“Maybe Mia will be there too,” Henri said.
Liam looked surprised. “You know Mia? Mia di Miran? Dark hair, could cut the whiskers off a cat blindfolded?”
“You know her too?” Henri said.
Daniel was gesturing toward a door with one of his dark shiny appendages whilst attempting to gingerly extract the rest of himself from Adem's embrace.
“Come on Adem,” Henri said, reaching for his son's hand. “Let's go find Mia.”
“All right Daddy,” Adem said. “But no bath!” he added with a finger wag.
Liam was shaking his head. “I can't believe that. What is Mia doing way over here? She's supposed to be at the front.”
They followed Daniel out the door and down a dark hall full of oddly shaped things that Henri presumed were sculptures of some kind, or perhaps chairs. It was hard to tell.
“I don't even know where here is,” Henri said. “But to answer your question the wizard with the black cloak, the one that gray hand came from, he did something to Mia so she would protect us while we came here. I think he needed my son to start that veil engine.”
“The thing that blew up?” Liam said, one hand on the pommel of his sword, clearly ill at ease with their alien environment.
“Yes,” Henri said.
“So much for that then,” Liam said.
Daniel delicately touched a wall which smoothly gaped open, making Liam shudder. They passed through it into a new passage that curled down like a spiral. At the bottom was another circular door that also remained squeezed closed until a gentle touch from Daniel caused it to release.
Inside was a new circular room but far smaller than the great room they'd come from. This was more akin to the size his shop had been back at the village. Their skull headed helper glided to the center and seemed to scan in a circle before it stopped and pointed with one black tentacle.
There was a rustling from above them.
“Look out!” Liam said.
Henri snatched Adem into his arms, scrambling to back off and look up at the same time.
Above them a tube that appeared to be a part of the ceiling, in the same manner as a protruding vein on the arm of a very muscular man, tore open and a
young woman fell to the floor in a heap. The dagger she'd been carrying was jarred loose from her grasp and clattered across the solid black stone floor. She wore a long dark cloak over leather and cloth riding attire and was covered from head to toe in a thick brown mucous-like substance.
Liam ran over to help her up. “Celia! I'm glad you're back,” he said.
“Remind me to NEVER do that again,” Celia said, her boots slipping a bit as she stood.
“Liam? Celia?” called a voice from the side of the room in the direction Daniel had pointed.
“Liam watch out!” Celia said as she produced two new knives from the inside of her cloak, pointing them at Daniel.
“No, it's fine,” Liam said. “He's... he's not trying to kill us.”
Daniel agreed with this, nodding his skull up and down emphatically.
“I can't believe you found me! I thought I'd be here forever in this cell... until I died,” a young man said from a cage. This one was somewhat older than Liam, though a great deal thinner. Something about him looked familiar as well but Henri couldn't quite place it.
“Professor Van Bosch? What are you doing here?” the young man said, his head pressed against the bars.
“Aaron, you know this guy?” Liam said, pointing at Henri.
Aaron! The name jogged his memory. Aaron had been at the Institute years ago. He'd been one of his best students.
“Of course I do!” Aaron said. “He taught a great course. Advanced Technical Construction I think, lots of very interesting principles for making Veil powered machines.
There was little use in denying it at this point. “Good to see you Aaron.” Henri said. Aaron... Fargell? Stargell? Yes. Aaron Stargell. He remembered asking the boy to join his construction and architecture team at the company. As he recalled the boy was recruited by some noble family. “How did you get here? Shouldn't you be at a castle somewhere serving as someone's technical adviser?”
“It's a long story,” Liam said, a bitter look coming over him.
“Baron Halett is dead, or so we believe,” Aaron said from inside the cage. “Can someone get me out of here? Mia is here too, she's in the cage next to me but she won't wake up no matter how loudly I yell.”
“Is she alright? Where is she?” Henri said.
“I'm fine,” Mia said from a nearby cell but she did not sound fine. She sounded angry.
“What!? Then why didn't you say anything?” Aaron said.
“I didn't have anything to say.”
Henri relaxed somewhat. At least she was alright. “Can we get them out of there?” he asked Daniel.
The creature held two appendages out to the sides, shaking its skull from side to side.
“What are you waiting for thing! Get them out!” Liam said, reaching for his sword.
Daniel put up his hands in surrender, cringing.
“I don't think he can,” Henri said.
“Hello Mia,” Celia said, sheathing her knives.
“Hi. Where's Giselle? Aren't you supposed to be protecting her?” Mia said.
Celia was just opening her mouth to reply when little Adem gasped and pointed behind them.
“Who's that?” he asked.
Chapter 16
"They're loud, they're dirty, they're unreliable, but worst of all... they're unsportsmanlike. The power to kill a landed knight should never rest in the hands of a poorly trained peasant."
-Arden Lord Percival Bittgenshire on veil muskets, 1537
“What of the imperials?” asked tall Monsieur Louise Bonmont, the Fenasian owner of the largest weaving company in Faustland, as he pulled at the end of his wide white mustache.
“What of them?” asked Buckley.
“Surely an entire army poised at our borders having just seized a sizable chunk of land is cause for concern. What assurance do we have that the so-called emperor won't take it upon himself to march on Valendam while our country is... transitioning?” Bonmont said.
Murmurs of assent came from all sides of the oval table.
“What say you Mr. Buckley?” the Chairman asked.
“The Ganex emperor is in possession of a large number of very powder hungry goliaths that require vast amounts of veil continuously to even move. If his forces take one step in the direction of this city we'll cut him off. It's that simple.”
“We can do this any time we wish?” asked Bonmont.
“The empire has no stockpiles of note. So focused was he on his hated enemy of twenty years ago he could not see the enemy right in front of him. The man is a blood thirsty idiot,” Buckley said.
“Indeed, well said,” the chairman said. “However I do have one question for you Mr. Buckley.”
“At your service sir,” Buckley said.
“What of the problems I've been hearing about your new veil engine?”
Buckley disguised his surprise, covering it with his favorite mask, a warm polite smile. “It is nothing to be concerned about. By now it has already been remedied I'm sure. Just a minor mishap. A necessary cost of advancement.”
“That's good to hear,” replied the chairman. His expression gave away nothing. “You will tell us if anything arises that jeopardizes the plan won't you Buckley? After all, it's your veil energy that powers every part of the armies that we all paid for. Production of superior armies for our future republic is of paramount importance. Wouldn't you agree?”
“Of course.”
“Good,” the Chairman said. “Those with any further reservations, speak them now,” he said, pausing to survey the entire table as he took a long drag on his golden pipe. None replied as he exhaled the dark contents of his lungs in one continuous stream.
“Then it's settled. The plan shall continue as scheduled. Soon this country will be ruled by elected politicians, every one owned by us. The state will no longer be our enemy, but our tool. A tool we'll use to own the world!”
Hands draped in expensive gloves, bracelets and rings clapped around the table.
Buckley stepped out of the great double doors and gasped for breath, sweat ran down his forehead in rivers. His assistant was waiting for him with a lace napkin which she used to dab it away.
“He knew. I need to know how.”
“Yes sir,” she said, jotting notes furiously as she followed him down the hall.
“I'll be in my office. No disruptions,” he said.
“Understood.”
“That will be all.”
When he arrived at his office he went straight for the crystal carafe of brandy. He stood and stared out the windows behind his desk, savoring the burn as the liquid flowed over his tongue and down his throat. In the courtyard below customers and employees came and went, scuttling about like ants, servicing his needs.
The new engine would be contained, of that he was certain. The real question, what he needed to understand above all, was why? What had caused a functioning installation to become a war zone of veil horrors?
He took another good sized slug of brandy, wishing as he did that the good doctor was still alive so that he could plant a knife in the man's belly with his own hands.
It made him think back to the first man he'd killed in pursuit of his goals. That obnoxious twit at the tax collector's office who'd come to assess his business's worth to the crown and had the audacity to refuse to be bribed.
An honest tax collector. Disgusting.
He swallowed the last swig and left the glass on the silver platter as he approached and opened the doors to his secondary room. Sadly the bed lay empty with no woman keeping it warm for him. He would perhaps remedy that later, but not yet.
Now he needed answers.
Buckley closed the door and locked it securely. Then he walked past the large curtained four poster bed to the far end of the room and a series of intricately carved wardrobes.
He opened the center wardrobe and slid a set of iridescent doublets to one side allowing the light from the room to fall upon the back corner wall where a switch disguised as a hook was locat
ed. He activated it and slid his clothes back so they hung evenly.
By the time he'd closed the door of the center wardrobe the rightmost had already fully swung to one side revealing a steel door with a pull handle and a key hole. Buckley pulled a chain from his neck and used one of two small keys to unlock the door. There was a click as the mechanism disengaged. He pulled the handle and the steel door opened with a metallic creak.
As always the musty smell of decay wafted from within but he ignored it. He took a pinch of veil powder from a jar by the door and sprinkled it into the catchment area of a lamp. Bluish veil light filled the tiny room beyond, illuminating the black spiraling device on the floor and the large wooden chest behind it.
Buckley took a larger portion of the veil powder and sprinkled it on the black spiral. It too began to glow with its own hot violet hue. He then used the second key on the chain to unlock the chest and threw open the lid.
The desiccated corpse within lay precisely where it had before. Eyeless, limbless and missing more than half of its teeth, it was Buckley's understanding it had once been some type of dierlijt. Though the body was human, the skull was vaguely reminiscent of a wolf or perhaps a fox. The head was tilted up toward him. Were it not for the lack of eyes in the empty dry sockets of the mummified skull, he might have imagined it was staring at him. But he knew that wasn't the case and bent down to reach inside.
From the bottom of the trunk he retrieved a small golden box that he opened to reveal the soft padded silk of a jeweler's cushion. Instead of an exquisite ring or broach there lay a single stone of a translucent verdant green.
Buckley took the jewel and regarded it for a moment, rolling it between his fingers, before using his other hand to pull the corpse forward enough to expose a slit at the back of the neck. Into that cavity he placed the stone.
Torn eyelids twitched as the corpse shuddered.
“Free... me.” It was a voice like the sound of wind through a rotted log.
“I might,” Buckley said.
The corpse coughed, expelling some dry chunks, a mix of saw dust and dead maggots.
“I am Narael, a powerful sorcerer. Free me from this prison and I will reward you handsomely, salave.”
