by John Mangold
The three moons spread intermittent light across the Anterim Basalt Mines southwest of the city of Venustus. Thick clouds floated across the sky, choking out each moon’s illumination in turn. As their cold, pale light lit the empty compound, their rays fell upon heavy mechanical diggers left dormant by the long-departed workers. At this time of night, there were few eyes to take in the moon beam’s dance. The miners had retired to their homes for the night, leaving only old Liam, the night watchman, to keep sentry for the evening.
Liam had worked this same mine since he was a young man, nearly fifty years, all told. After his retirement, he could barely bring himself to leave the old yard. It had become his second home, even more so after his wife passed. So, it was with a joyous heart that Liam accepted a new job as nightwatchman from the owner’s son, some eight years back.
“It’s only natural you look after the company,” young Master Anterim had said. “You have done as much to build it as my father. Losing you would be like losing the Basalt itself!”
It was a good job. Nice and quiet. In all Liam’s years, there had never been any mischief on the grounds, and he doubted tonight would be any different. As he walked the perimeter, he listened to the chirping of the Musk-Squirrels. They often burrowed through the freshly excavated dirt, looking for grubs. Their very presence was a testament to how long he had been there. Usually, the timid creatures scurried away at the first sign of a human, but they had no fear of Liam. They scampered across his path this way and that, paying him little heed. In their eyes, he was as much a fixture here as the piles of stone that decorated the quarry.
They were funny little vermin, with their long ears and long, flat tails. Most nights, they were Liam’s sole companions on his nightly treks. Some of the miners considered the critters to be bad omens, heaving rocks at them whenever they had a clear shot. It was a common belief that the Musk-Squirrels gnawed on mineshaft supports and loosened the soil around the cross beams. But in all Liam’s years, he had never seen any truth to these stories. The little ferd-headed varmints were mischievous enough, but the only harm he had ever seen them do was to the grubs. And seeing how those grubs turned to wood gnawing Glips in a month or two, the real cause behind those weakened mineshaft supports, those Musk-Squirrels were welcome to all the larvae they could eat as far as Liam was concerned.
As Liam made the final turn to cut across the main road, heading back to his shed, his steps faltered mid-stride. For a few ticks, he could not believe what he was seeing; indeed, the moons were creating illusions with their pale beams. But, as the clouds above cleared once more, he knew that even his old eyes could not mistake what they were seeing. Standing in the center of the massive quarry pit, where nothing was just three ticks prior, were three very odd-looking silhouettes. For the first time in all his years, he had himself some intruders!
They were still a reasonable distance away, so it was not clear if they were up to any mischief, yet Liam immediately felt fear grip his heart. He tried to crane his neck to make sense of their outlines, but all three seemed misshapen in their own way. He edged towards the trio to challenge them when a voice in his mind yelled, stop! Liam had learned long ago to heed such voices. Similar warnings had saved him from more cave-ins than he could count.
As he stood still, straining his ears, he noticed nothing at all. There was not a single sound to be heard save the beating of his heart. A quick glance around confirmed what his ears had already reported. The Musk-Squirrels were gone. They had not merely retreated to a safe distance; they had dissolved utterly in the span of a tick. The last time he had seen them do anything like that was when his half-wit nephew had shown up one night with a bottle of wine and a blunderbuss. Remembering this, Liam decided that it might be better to observe these intruders a bit more before he made his move.
Those ferd-headed, grub-eating-varmints may have rocks in their heads, Liam thought as he slowly edged closer to a pile of stones. But they know trouble when they see it, sure enough.
As he crouched down, he could see the robed stranger in the center step forward from the group. Watching the tall interloper as carefully as he could, Liam could sense that he was scouring the pit around the group; the tattered hood concealing his face betrayed the movements of the head beneath. It seemed to Liam that the stranger was considering each of the massive excavation tractors in the yard for some desired quality. They all looked the same to Liam, like the twisted results of a giant spider and a thresher mating.
They were overly complicated contraptions with six hydraulically powered legs moving it around, while two spinning spike-encrusted barrels at the end of cable laced arms did the digging. As much as the MysTechs had to slave over the machines just to keep the heaps of scrap running, Liam found it hard to believe they were worth the effort. True enough, one Hydro-Miner could do the work of twenty men with picks. They could, that is, if the pile of junk decided to work at all. Liam had warned Master Anterim that the bolt bags weren’t worth a grub, but his words fell on deaf ears.
Sometimes years of experience just don’t amount to much, Liam thought bitterly as he spat, then immediately regretted the action. His blood froze as the robed one turned suddenly and raised his arm.
Liam watched in terror as the mountain of a man standing to the tall man’s left suddenly lurched forward in the direction of his master’s signal. As he stepped into the moonlight, Liam was amazed to see that the man’s eyes were bound with cloth. Despite this blinding rag, the monstrosity moved across the rocky ground with ease. At first, Liam thought the colors of the night were fooling his eyes, but as the large man grew closer, he could swear the hulk’s skin was made of metal. Marveling at this, Liam realized the thing’s armor was one with his skin, as much a part of his body as his ears.
Suddenly, the huge man turned to approach the nearest Hydro-Miner. Drawing close, he extended both hands, seemingly in an attempt to push the machine over. Even for one of his size, this was an impossible feat, his target weighing many tons, with six mechanical feet designed to keep it upright. Liam was sure how this tic-headed stunt would end. But the old man could not have been less prepared for what happened next.
As the man’s hands met the metal of the machine’s legs, his arms lit up with an eerie light, strange tattoos squirming and glowing along his metal arms. Slowly, the joints of his limbs began to swell, imitating the linkages of the machine he touched. Wires squirmed around his body like snakes, running from his newly reformed elbows to the middle of his back. Silver cylinders swelled from the skin of his arms until his limbs perfectly mirrored the device the huge man touched.
The digits on his hands bonded together, forming four brutal digits, each finger sprouting impressive spikes stout enough to punch through solid granite. At the same time, his boots shifted, imitating the Miner’s oversized feet. With the hideous transformation complete, the giant mechano-man turned back towards his master. With a full view of the twisted man’s back, Liam could now see where the strange wires ran. The beast now had an engine box attached to his upper back, from which a sinister glow began to emanate.
The man in tattered robes extended his arm to point to the yawning maw of the newest mine shaft. Obediently, the giant monster responded, pounding across the quarry’s floor until it disappeared into the cave’s dark interior. It was not long until the sounds of heavy thudding began to pulse out of the depths beyond. Liam could not allow this; that villain was intent on stealing the company’s Basalt! Yet, as he willed his legs to move once more, that same warning voice in his head cried out. His eyes returned to the tattered man and his remaining companion. The slumped-shouldered man to the Mystic’s left had not moved since Liam first laid eyes on him, just standing there, totally encompassed by an old fur coat as though he were freezing to death.
As Liam pondered this mystery, a loud squealing of metal suddenly split the night’s silence. Turning back to the mineshaft entrance, Liam watched as the colossal mechano-man returned, pushing a large trolley of Basalt before him. The mo
nstrosity trudged slowly up to his master, who rewarded him with a simple nod.
Sinking down to his knees, the robed man began to etch something in the dirt with maddening speed. As he completed his work, he reached into his tattered clothes to produce a series of metal containers that he emptied on his mud etchings. He then rose to sink both his hands deep into the cart’s payload of rich Basalt. Strange, arcane chanting began to fill the air as the Mystic sifted the new mineral to join the spilled ingredients. The moment the first grains hit, the symbols in the dirt sprang to life with blinding brilliance.
The hulking brute lumbered closer to the pile of elements, leaning down as though mesmerized by the reaction. The monster’s broad back heaved, taking in a titanic breath and then blowing a torrent of blue flame onto the Mystic’s work. This caused the elements to glow brighter than the runes. All the while, the Mystic’s incantations droned on, growing louder as the brilliance of the fire increased. Then, when the inferno’s fury reached its peak, the pile of discarded minerals shifted of its own accord.
Liam watched in disbelief as the material became liquid, parting as a form rose up from the newly formed pool as a swimmer crawls from a lake. Slowly it pulled itself out of the mystical substance, its body solidifying as it emerged. At first, it looked like some twisted bird, with vast leathery wings and a lizard’s head, topped with the twisted horns of a ram. As it pulled its barbed tale from the rapidly disappearing puddle of elements, Liam realized in awestruck horror what he was witnessing. The Mystic had just summoned a Wyvern!
Before this night, Liam had always thought demons were just the tales of old women and drunken sailors. Yet, just yards from him, a Wyvern now squatted, eyeing its new master with eyes filled with malevolent intelligence. Liam scanned the group to view their reactions to the new arrival. However, when the third stranger turned from the shadows, Liam’s heart nearly stopped. The face of a hideously fanged wolf leered out from the dark where human features should have been. That fur-clad man was actually a hideous mixture of man and hound! Liam shivered in horror as saliva dripped from the wolf creature’s lips, blinded eyes focused solely on the Wyvern.
In a blink, the furred beast had leaped towards the Wyvern, but the Demon was more than ready. The winged creature met its attacker with a savage blow to his flank, knocking the half-wolf out of the air. He had barely hit the ground before the Wyvern launched a counterattack, hurtling itself upward to immediately swoop down upon its prey with razor-sharp talons. Its aim was flawless.
The Wyvern’s claws sank deeply into the Wolf-beings hide, causing the wolf to howl out in anguish. However, the wounded beast spent little time in its suffering, quickly spinning its head round to bite down deeply into the Wyvern’s leg. It was now the demon’s turn to howl, its cries so loud and sharp that Liam had to clutch his ears in pain. He could not understand why it wailed so loud, the wound did not seem to be severe, yet it yowled as though the blow was mortal.
To Liam’s amazement, both the Demon and the beast’s forms now began to change. The Wyvern’s body started to shrink in upon itself as though it were being sucked dry of all its fluids. Meanwhile, the wolf creature’s back sprouted new limbs, as though the fiend was absorbing the Wyvern’s physical features. Slowly, the beast’s tail began to grow long and barbed, horns protruding and curling from either side of its head. Incredibly, the foul slurry of man and beast had managed to become more horrific than before.
As the combined beast’s form grew, the Wyvern’s body slowly crumbled back to the dry elements that had created it. Within a few ticks, the beast’s transformation came to completion as the Wyvern’s disintegrated entirely. Rising up slowly on its hound-like rear legs, the creature spread out its leathery wings, its Ram-like horns gleaming in the moonlight. The wounds in its sides that seemed so grievous a moment before, now shrunk to nothing as Liam watched.
Liam had heard of a monster that looked like the one he now viewed, but he never knew one to be created in such a manner. Still, he could not deny that, but a short distance away, this fantastic fiend was pawing at the dirt and sniffing at the air like any ordinary hound Liam had ever seen.
“That’s A Gargoyle if I ever saw one!” Liam heard himself remark, as though it had come from another’s lips.
The Gargoyle’s head swung round to unerringly direct his blindfolded eyes at Liam’s hiding spot. With a casual spring and a beat of its leathery wings, the monster was in the air and headed directly for him. Liam staggered backward, a terrified scream stuck in his dry throat. As he took another step, the ground gave way underneath his foot, dropping him down into a black pit. Within the span of a breath, Liam found himself several feet underground, the night’s sky now framed by a ragged hole above. He opened his mouth to cough from all the dust in the air, only to stop when two tiny paws cover his lips.
Focusing his eyes against the choking debris in the air, Liam began to perceive many furry forms surrounding him, with one sitting square on his chest, both paws attempting to hold his mouth closed! In the gloom, their bodies blended perfectly into their surroundings, except for their amber eyes gleaming brightly in the cavern’s darkness. In an instant, all those little points of lights swung upwards, concentrating on the ragged hole in the ceiling above.
As Liam listened, he could hear the beat of the Gargoyle’s wings filtering down into their hiding spot. With a heavy thud, the leathery fluttering stopped. It had landed near the entrance above. Would it find where Liam had fallen? What would he do if it did? He had no weapon, though he could not imagine what would harm such a fiend!
The ticks dragged by like hours, with Liam’s heartbeat thundering in his ears like a drum. How close was it? Maybe it had given up and returned to its master. Should he look? Even if he did not have the Musk-Squirrel on his chest, he doubted he could move. Fear had locked his body in a pre-death rigor mortis. The tension was overwhelming him. Even so, an insane part of his mind wanted to scream out, Get it over with! Surely the Gargoyle knew where he was. The demonic half-breed was just toying with him.
Suddenly, the hideous thump of wings filled the air once more. Liam could tell the beast had been very close to the opening above from the intensity of the flapping, yet the reverberations grew steadily softer until they disappeared entirely. As the weight of dread began to lift from his chest, Liam felt himself breathe in for what felt like the first time in hours.
One by one, the Musk-Squirrels around him vanished down the side tunnels of their newly formed excavation, leaving only the Musk-Squirrel squatting on Liam’s chest. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or maybe it was just the stress of all that had transpired affecting his brain, but Liam could swear that the little rodent looked down into his face and gave him a quick wink before bouncing off to disappear into a burrow of its own.
This, evidently, was the rock-that-broke-the-cart for Liam’s already over-taxed nerves. The next time he knew consciousness, it was to the returning miners' distressed yells the following day. As they pulled him from the peculiar hole he had tumbled into, Liam knew he had one fantastic story to tell. The only question now was, who would believe it?
9.
Revelations
Maluem could not tell when she had fallen asleep. One moment she was peering up at the waning moons; the next, Doctor Nia Fyfe was sitting on the end of her bed with a grim expression on her face. At first, Maluem thought to feign like she had not fully wakened, but the ruse seemed pointless. Whatever Nia had on, her mind was bound to come out. It was better to have it out now. Besides, it might take her mind off her nightly visitor. She opened her mouth to give Nia a greeting, but the doctor spoke before Maluem could utter a word.
“Do you think you could handle a bit of walking?”
Maluem nodded, opening her mouth once more to speak.
“Good,” Nia quickly cut in. “Follow me then. I think a bit of fresh air might do you some good.”
Maluem swung her legs off the edge of the cot, finding the odd garment they had wra
pped her in disconcerting. It felt like it was tied in the back somehow, like a metal worker’s smock, leaving a flap running up her back that occasionally admitted a draft. But Nia gave Maluem little time to ponder this. Grasping Maluem’s hand in hers, Nia dragged her up to her feet. Finding her legs still a bit wobbly, Maluem staggered and nearly fell back down onto her bedding.
“You are still a bit weak from the infection,” Nia confided as she steadied Maluem with an arm around her shoulder. “But that will pass soon. You need to get your energy back, and lying around all day won’t do that. Come, let’s get a little sunshine on that face. The warmth of Azbel’s star is still the best medicine for all living beings.”
Once Maluem had her bearings, she shrugged Nia’s arm off uncomfortably, as unnerved by Nia’s touch as her own lack of strength. She had never felt this way, not even after casting, and she hated everything about it. The feeling of weakness was intolerable.
Struggling against nausea that still lingered, Maluem forced herself to stand up straight as she walked alongside Nia. The doctor reached out to take her hand, but Maluem pulled it away. She could not tell if this was pure pride or her age-old aversion to physical contact returning. Either way, Maluem did not care for being led through the facility like a doddering old woman. She glanced over at Nia, and for a moment, she saw what looked like a nod of confirmation, but confirmation of what, Maluem could not tell.
Stepping through two doors mostly made up of glass panes, Maluem found herself in a blindingly sunlit courtyard. The courtyard must have been enchanted to keep the cold winds out as the sun’s rays felt wondrous, despite the season's chill. With her eyes adjusting to the brilliant light, she began to take in the beauty around her. It was quite impressive.
The enclosure had been manicured wonderfully, with small walking paths leading across the grass-covered expanse, twisting here and there to meander under the branches of several large, shading trees. The fragrant odors of flowers floated with the breeze, enhancing the soothing atmosphere. Beyond the enclosed courtyard walls, Maluem could hear less natural sounds. Mechanical echoes, filled with the heavy clanging of steel and repeated bursts of steam, resounded beyond the enclosure. Maluem could only guess that the building sat near some great forge, but from the ground's rumblings, the blast furnaces would have to be massive indeed.