The Mark of Gold

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The Mark of Gold Page 9

by A. S. Etaski


  A shrug. “And you would not give it up.”

  “I still won’t. Not to any male.”

  He tilted his head, the forked tongue flicking out briefly. “Why not, Davrin?”

  So, he did know what I called myself. Yet as both males focused on me expectantly, I found I couldn’t answer.

  *Because he who holds the ruby can paralyze you?* Soul Drinker whispered snidely. *Or make you spread your ass while he mounts up? Come, see how the big one reacts to that. Describe what happened in the kitchen.*

  I couldn’t speak. I hated them all.

  “Let’s go,” I said, turning down the path. “My breath is caught up.”

  I anticipated one of them attempting to stop me, but they followed without speaking. The progress toward the center slowed tremendously as the pathway Gavin and I had made was overtaken again. We returned to stabbing, cutting, and casting our way through the slime-ridden foliage as the forest darkened to evening colors.

  The way ahead lit by the haunting light of the center, and the forest continued to speak to me, any real distance fading away as I walked among stars.

  Fffforward, baaaackward, enter and ssseeee…

  Motherrr is anngry, she is highhh, up and low…

  Crushhh, mashhh, form growth, grow and growwww…

  Ahead, and close, something crunched. I stopped, as did my males behind me. The air crackled.

  “Big,” I whispered, not for anyone to hear me.

  The pounding steps accelerated, and something monstrous and deformed pushed over the weeping, violet trees to make room. The roots ripped out of the blackened soil, soft and wet as blood vessels.

  “Behind me!” the merc snarled, coming forward, reaching for my shoulder.

  Fuck off! I sprinted ahead, Soul Drinker in one hand, a thunderstone in the other. “ONE!”

  “Uh-oh,” Gavin said.

  I pitched the first of Castis’s cache at the golem’s feet, my eyes closed, ears covered with the heels of my palms against the expected flash and boom which sent the forest to jiggling anew.

  The rising roar came down upon us like a storm surge. I raised my fist.

  *Bring it!* Soul Drinker bellowed.

  The merc and I sprinted ahead at the same time. I doubted his eyes had recovered yet, and I wagered the relic would heal me first. What I saw ahead when it did, well, I could barely make sense of what formed it.

  It appeared as if a score of bodies had all been melted together in a pot and hardened into something that could barely walk on two “legs.” Its crotch was smooth as a rock archway, but the protruding, tightly distended gut above it was something I hesitated to slice open, despite Soul Drinker cheering me on. It had a disproportionately large mouth, enough to clamp down on my head and snap it off at the neck if I let it. Its arms were the size and rough shape of Human bodies, able to both crush and grapple us between them at once.

  “Keep it away from the mage!” the half-blood shouted.

  Easier said than done, though the mercenary began by engaging the chaos giant as directly as he had the horde, slicing its legs with his powerful sliders. Unfortunately, it appeared like he had drawn a knife through a warm pudding as green goop dropped into the cuts, molding putrid flesh together, only a few grey ashes fluttering away with each hit. The giant swiped at him and stumbled down the hill toward Gavin, who had shifted to the left, cleansing enough forest to make space for himself.

  “Go right!” the merc barked, and we dove off the path, successfully drawing it our way.

  Tohhhvaaaaahhhh! rumbled the mass of mouths, somehow conveying actual sense within the madness!

  “You’ve made it angry!” I shouted, pulling another thunderstone. “The cannibals weren’t angry!”

  “Put that away, Baenar!” he barked. “This way!”

  If he’d showed me his back instead of pacing me, I might have thrown it at him. Terror at the realization seized my arm and thoughts.

  *Pah. You’ll survive without him.*

  I doubted it. The powerful fighter’s aura was creating a safe if narrow path as we ran through the corrupt forest. I couldn’t do that.

  With enough distance, the half-blood spun around and engaged again while I took cover. Blades spinning then crossing in flowing motion, he barked the same spell I’d heard earlier and threw a fireball from his blades. The burst of light hit the giant directly in the chest and sizzled, creating a small dent as black ash plummeted to the ground.

  The unraveling of chaos at the edges of the wound, however, slowed then vanished before our eyes.

  “Shuiblith.” The mercenary quickly shouldered one blade and stretched out his arm, his voice rumbling loudly. “Thrae, ternesj!”

  I watched the half-Davrin make the motion of lifting and pitching something at the abomination, and an actual boulder that had been farther up the hill launched from the soft soil, snapped the tops of two trees, and smashed into the thing’s head. It shrieked, blinking five swelling eyes at different rates but caught itself before it could stumble.

  The merc shook his head with an audible growl, seeing the minimal effect, and I detected a quiver of effort in his muscles as he drew the second sword again.

  He’s finally getting tired.

  *Hehehe!*

  I sensed when his yellow eyes shifted to the straining gut, targeting the softest and most vulnerable part in front of him.

  “No, don’t!” I cried in panic. “It’s gravid!”

  He held the easy strike and retreated defensively as he led it right into a recovering tree.

  “It’s concentrated defense and learned to overcome my weapons,” he said when he joined me again, “while spell fire and boulders are an annoyance! Any ideas?”

  He’s asking me?

  I wanted to be able to stab it with Soul Drinker, it was all I could think about and the dagger let me. But I did not have the mercenary’s reach and couldn’t make myself charge while it could swat me to the side like an insect.

  ~We need his aid.~

  *Pah!* The red rune dagger grumbled but didn’t disagree.

  “The thing has emotion,” I panted aloud as we moved.

  “Fear,” he agreed.

  “And a will?”

  “Rudimentary at best.”

  “I must get behind it. Onto its back.”

  He glanced at my relic. “Keep up then, Baenar, I will get you there.”

  Despite the blade whispering otherwise, I could not keep up. The mercenary was holding himself back, matching my limit, while his long blades cleared the worst of the waving branches before us. We raced down the slope then up again, circling around near to where we started. My lungs burned with my muscles, and I coughed from the rank scents and lack of good air in my dry throat.

  “Onto the ledge!” he ordered.

  I scrambled into place, thunderstone finally put away, but too late. My target was turning to face us; I did not have enough time. The mercenary pointed his clawed hand at the largest tree near the creature.

  “Jikmada!”

  The wood at the base ruptured into splinters and began to fall straight for the giant. The noise and imminent threat caused the servant of the warp rot to turn away from us long enough.

  “Ready?” the mercenary panted, lifting his hand toward me like I was another boulder.

  I was not.

  “Thrae—”

  My feet left the ground. ~Fuck.~

  “— ternesj!”

  “Fuck!!”

  The half-blood tossed me into the air, long-dragging instants passing me through the slapping branches before my body slammed into the spongy, slick flesh. I collided high enough to expect a shoulder blade which wasn’t there, and there were no real hand holds. Instead of a deliberate stab, I used Soul Drinker to gain purchase, ramming it deep, angling it down, hoping desperately that it would hold my weight for a few flicks.

  I planned nothing else. The relic pulsed and felt again to h
ave fused with stone as my hand cramped and seized. The demon howled with its legendary hunger, thrashing and tearing at the roiling cloud of souls within, like a lake monster generating froth.

  I cried out and hung helplessly high off the ground. It felt like Thena and her squad catching me, dominating, biting, and shoving me down, combined with the fetid, revolting scent of the monster to which I clung.

  ~Soul Drinker, stop! It hurts!~

  The demon heard nothing in its frenzy.

  I tucked my knees up as if I could curl into a ball in midair, groaning in abject misery, enduring, waiting for it to stop. The warp giant’s willpower, abstract and conglomerate, broke at last, and my too-intelligent weapon sucked in all Vis and Vitas provided, feeding until the gravid belly collapsed and shriveled in upon itself like a dried fruit.

  In this whirling insanity, I glimpsed a possibility, something real and not; a vision where the blade singer had cut the belly open.

  Opening a tear in the world which would summon a defense we would not survive…

  Suddenly, the black blade released the shrinking flesh, slipping out of the oozing wound before I could see straight. My senses overwhelmed, my head threatening to burst, my body went limp as the chaos giant began to tilt. I could not tell which way was up as we separated from the target.

  Something warm grabbed me, hauled me away, and set me down. Big and dark, his body covered me. My eyes made out the splintered trunk of a fresh-fallen tree while, beyond it, an avalanche of mulch dropped in an enormous pile, coating the entire hillside. The choking scent of natural decay billowed out and surrounded us.

  I touched my brow to the firm ground, attempting to stop the world spinning as I fought rising bile, my stomach heaving with futility. There was nothing to expel anyway. Meanwhile, the large male was alert and looking around, braced on one arm, his heavy body shifting against my thigh.

  “G-get off me,” I uttered on another heave.

  The half-blood raised himself up and shifted to one side. I expected him to stand up and away, but his large, warm hand rested on my cloak between my shoulders while I got my nausea under control. I should have told him to stop touching me, but… it helped.

  “Can you stand?” he asked.

  “In a moment,” I grumbled.

  “Hm. Well done.”

  I shook my head slightly. “D-demon did it, not me.”

  I checked my hand, confirming I still gripped the relic and hearing a bloated, languid sigh.

  “I know.” The half-blood paused. “I am impressed you can determine the difference.”

  I squinted and nudged, ~Do you know each other, dagger?~

  It murmured back, *We do not. But I know his kind.*

  ~His kind?~

  “Will you trade the sapphire for the ruby?” the mercenary asked suddenly, and I snapped aware.

  “No,” I growled. “Keep your payment, merc.”

  Without further response, he finally climbed to his feet and called out, “Deathwalker?”

  When the death mage didn’t answer at once, I scrambled up as well, the ruby shimmering at my chest. Oh, Goddess, Gavin!

  In the dark, eerily quiet forest, the relic chuckled indulgently, and then—

  “Hurry,” a familiar voice called from my right.

  Turning with relief, I spotted the pale man in grey robes waving to us through the mottled, partially cleansed trees. He held Sarilis’s vial in one hand, Kurn’s sword in the other.

  “The center is unguarded,” he said, “but not for long.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “Plan?” the merc asked before we had crested the final hill. He motioned toward the vial in Gavin’s hand.

  “Sirana and I each have one,” the death mage answered, showing care where he placed his feet among the remnants of the giant. “We must break one or both vials against the source.”

  A pause.

  “Exit strategy?”

  Gavin looked at me, and I showed my teeth in a dry grin lacking humor. “You scattered it, assassin.”

  The mercenary grunted. “Fortunate I followed you, then.”

  This struck deep as questions tainted with regret flooded my thoughts.

  Who were you following all this time, me or the Ma’ab? When did you start? Why didn’t you kill Kurn when you had so many opportunities? Why did you stop me? Where were you the night I escaped Troshin Bend? Why do you want my ruby? What do you want?

  Soul Drinker was listening, snickering, then cooing with sympathy. *What, indeed?*

  I bit down on the questions and returned the figurative mark to the hybrid’s side of the map. “I’ll listen to a replacement strategy.”

  The massive, bootless fighter stopped moving forward, lowered his sliders, and looked between us with metallic eyes glinting. “If you give to me the vials, I will throw them in the center for you. If you stay farther away, you’ll better endure what’s sure to be a strong disruption which may harm or kill you.”

  “What about you?”

  “Magic shield.”

  Gavin was either easily convinced or had been ready if the creature made such an offer. He handed out his vial collected from Castis. “I must bear witness, and I have protection from the surge, but I need not be the one to throw this.”

  The fighter accepted the vial, his tongue flicking out like it did when he claimed Shyntre’s pendant. When they each looked at me expectantly, pure fright and chill streaked up my spine to my head.

  I wasn’t ready.

  *Wise. They will gradually convince you to hand over everything, including me. Just watch.*

  I shook my head once in refusal.

  “Sirana,” Gavin began, his pale blue pupils lowering to my middle.

  ~He’ll give it away.~

  *Indeed! And you’ve seen how these big Surface males react to secrets like that. As if they own it. And you.*

  “I have protection,” I cut them off gruffly. “And I will finish my sister’s mission whether she survived or not!”

  I turned and led the way, within moments feeling stupid and glad they couldn’t see my face. How many questions about my home and my Queen had I placed into the half-breed’s hands? Where did he come from? His accent was strange but not like Cris-ri-phon’s ancient one. Was he “new” Desert perhaps? Or Deepearth, somehow? How could Sivaraus never have heard even a whisper of a creature like this?

  There were so many threads, now. Too many, too fast, binding me. I blinked away tears, despair threatening to hollow out my chest.

  ~I should have stayed out of sight of every Human.~

  *Aww, I’m glad you didn’t, warrior. I would still be in that cursed box. Your suffering always serves a purpose.*

  I sneered, tasting the sour tang of the air. ~Never a good one where the Abyss is involved.~

  *Hehehe!*

  I crested the final hill as swiftly as I could, listening to Gavin and the merc keeping pace behind but not overtaking me. Ahead, the corruption was thickest yet, and I froze in place to realize the ground was not truly solid. I waited for them, having no option but to allow Gavin and the tail-waving hybrid to lead the way from here. At best, I could only stab a few slime-dripping trees, and did so to release stress.

  They made no remarks of my lack of reach while their dense, combined magic slashed and burned a new pathway through this last, slipperiest of slopes down to the break in the earth below. The ground became firm with their passing. I watched them step on it first and followed Gavin’s stride easier than the half-blood.

  Below was the source of the warp rot. It looked somewhat different from last time, if only due to the lack of hundreds of bodies seizing and undulating around the jutting rise of rotting stone. It still resembled an armless, Dwarven torso to me, quartz-like but suspended on the edge of crumbling, streaked through with veins of frayed mold.

  The face I’d thought I’d seen before wasn’t there.

  “Sirana.”

  I loo
ked.

  Familiar garnet eyes peered out from beneath a weeping willow, nearly collapsing my chest. They were the right shape and number, and the body and hair were as she had been the final night I saw her on the mountain.

  ~S-Soul Drinker? Is that… illusion?~

  *I’ve not withdrawn my protection, warrior. It is as you see. Might be a lure, but warp rot has no motive easily recognized. We can tell you that taking form like this is exceedingly difficult for the source to do.*

  I swallowed. ~…And?~

  *And we think it has something to tell you.*

  About Gaelan? Could I survive hearing it, whatever it was? Why else had I come if I could not?

  I approached the visible border between us, one side of solid ground and the other a hazy morass. Time seemed gently bound, cradled in a cocoon. Gaelan—her form—attempted to walk and meet me. She pretended to walk. It was a close mimic.

  “Broken One,” she said.

  I flinched. A greeting? An insult? I couldn’t tell.

  “Dreamers split around the Firstborn,” she continued. Her lips did not match her words. “As they split around the Thought. There are not enough to hold her again. Absence is the way open as the Great Work seeks the source of the River.”

  Incomprehensible.

  Gaelan reached out her hand. “Touch the Mother of All, Broken One. Be One. Defy time, undo the All. It is the Mother’s Gift to know All as One and Always.”

  Her “voice” was level and not the least agitated.

  She did not appear mad.

  But she was.

  The fear within me grew up and down, becoming so profound that I could not sense my body anymore. Was I reaching out to touch her? Was I shrinking back in mortal terror? All but my thoughts were numb as everything appeared like black quartz, spreading all around me, closing me in forever. I was the foundation upon which the crystals would build, where roots would spread unseen for some time…

  Until they burst through, breaking the sky itself into shattered fragments.

  There are not enough to hold her again.

  I spun around but could not escape; there was no distance to gain. I imagined pounding against a black mirror, that it was a door.

  A way out.

 

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