by Tom Lloyd
The golantha bent backwards under the impact, this time caught in a moment of agony. Lynx could see what happened all the better now as a cloud of darkness seemed to erupt around the impact site. With his mage-touched eyes he could see enough to feel a sense of horror. His breath caught as he watched the creature twist and shudder. Where the shot had hit it, the armour had proved no real defence – there was a ragged hole in its back and again the hushing sound filled the air.
‘Again!’ Toil yelled, hurling her useless dud cartridge at the golantha’s head in anger.
Aben stepped out from the doorway he’d been hiding in, gun level. Lynx glanced back down at the golantha, still half-paralysed from the second shot. He was about to shout when he saw the golantha’s tail start to curl forward and he remembered what had happened to the temple the previous night.
‘Now!’ he shouted.
Aben fired in the next instant. The shot caught it at the back of its head and the armour exploded. The light faltered and the golantha was slammed to the ground, pinned by the blackness that had hit it. All around the impact point, chitin started to shudder and crumble. A cloud rose up – not blood or anything like that, Lynx realised. It was dust, flesh reduced to something utterly lifeless.
The wound spread in all directions and as Lynx watched he saw the others were still expanding. The golantha tried to lift its head once more, but faltered then fell limp. The aura of greenish light dimmed, the ghostly threads flickered and died. A shuddering, twisting wreckage was all that was left, the expanding ruin of its wounds shrouded in a haze of dust as they continued to expand horribly.
Lynx felt his gorge rise. He had seen a lot of injuries in his time, but there was something about this that turned his stomach. The very flesh seemed to collapse into nothingness, not just burned or something, but destroyed utterly. The very air around it warped and tore as the magic worked its hideous path through the corpse – slowing but still eroding the body until the head part dropped away from the rest and finally all fell silent.
‘Shattered gods,’ Lynx whispered, staring down at it.
‘The ruin of gods,’ Toil intoned. ‘The last act of Banesh.’
‘Dark magic.’
For a while they could only stare at the withering corpse. The last time they’d seen one up close it had been a blur of panic and desperation. Now it was still, the size seemed all the more impossible.
In the grey-edged gloom of his mage sight, Lynx couldn’t make out much detail beyond the shape of the creature; huge jointed legs, more than a score on each flank, dull plates of chitin and great pincers longer than a man’s leg, now lying limp.
Finally, the magic was spent, leaving the golantha a pitted ruin with huge chunks of its body reduced to dust. Lynx could taste it in the air, dry and lifeless. He spat, but the dust was all around and he couldn’t get it clear.
‘Cards!’ their guide suddenly yelled.
Lynx looked up in confusion then realised the boy must have heard Sanshir use the word. The youth was frantically pointing down the tunnel and Lynx’s heart gave a jolt. There was a large shape moving in the dark, a faint ghostly white in the scraps of lamplight.
‘Deepest black,’ Toil gasped. ‘We’re all out.’
‘Run away?’ Safir asked the group at large.
‘Run away,’ Aben agreed.
They waved their guides back, took one last look at the approaching creature, and took to their heels. It seemed like an age before they covered the remaining ground to the tunnel entrance. Lynx could almost feel the huge pincers bearing down on them, but they clattered out into the pale light of the moon without incident. Their guides outstripped the mercenaries easily, pausing only to issue a volley of whistles. The sound was taken up above and ahead, repeated on to the rest, before another call came and the guides turned.
Lynx stumbled to a halt as he looked right with them. A dozen narrow streets all led into the warren on the far side of the tor, about fifty yards off across this empty market ground. A figure was running their way, Sanshir, but just as Lynx thought she was abandoning the others the kaboto veered sideways. With two hopping steps she propelled herself up towards the roof of a building. One-handed she swung up off a beam, spun around and landed on the roof to bring her gun up.
While Kas and Suth appeared from a different alley, Sanshir fired at something in the streets behind them. The white blade of an icer flashed through the night, but he couldn’t see whether it hit. Sanshir didn’t seem to care, she pulled another cartridge. Kas and Suth didn’t look back, they were running with every ounce of strength remaining to them. Ignoring Lynx’s group the pair veered down the side of the market towards the entrance to the Low Gardens where Reft and Deern waited.
Sanshir fired again and reloaded, likely coming close to her last shot Lynx realised. As she did so Teshen appeared on a different rooftop, vaulting the peak and running down the other side at breakneck speed. Without breaking stride he jumped across to the next house, the tight jumble of buildings offering an easy path across the warren. Something thumped down on to the building behind him and Lynx flinched, seeing the unmistakable bulk of a golantha swarm up with remarkable agility.
Sanshir fired again and scored a hit on the creature’s head, but the icer didn’t seem to hurt it. It did make the creature pause, however, and flick around towards Sanshir. She abandoned her gun as soon as it did and ran off to her left, away from Lynx. Teshen dropped down and carried on, his own mage-gun in his hands. The golantha started up towards Sanshir, responding to her attack, and crossed the first two buildings in two flicks of its massive body.
It was the smallest of the beasts they’d seen last night, but still big enough to lay waste to an army. Now Lynx watched he realised it was faster than the others too. There were injuries on it, deep furrows scored through the plates on its back that seemed to be smoking in the pale moonlight, and the broken stubs of two or three legs scraping along the ground. Clearly they had managed to get some shots off with the dark-bolts, but hadn’t scored direct hits.
As he ran, Teshen raised his gun and drew a bead on the creature. Belatedly Lynx resumed running, realising Teshen would overtake him in seconds. The golantha closed on Sanshir, but just as it came within a few yards Teshen set his feet and fired. The icer went high over its head, but again it reacted to the buzz of magic. Toil, Aben and Safir were already out on the other side of the market ground and Lynx joined them at the far side just as the golantha slewed around.
‘Cold hells,’ Safir growled, loading his gun. ‘Run, you fucker!’
Lynx felt a cold sense in his belly as Safir said that. Teshen was in the open ground now. He could move fast but he had no cover at all. The four of them loaded the last cartridges they had, but in that time the golantha had crossed half the market. They fired as one, three icers slamming home into the beast’s carapace while one went high.
This time it didn’t even pause, so intent it was on its prey. Just as it lashed forward Teshen threw himself sideways. Rolling, he came up with long knives in hand as a huge pincer flashed just past his head. Teshen slashed at it then dodged – always moving.
Lynx reloaded with an earther and took aim again. The golantha was large enough he didn’t have to worry about shooting too close to Teshen. He fired, Safir following a moment later. The earther roared against its carapace and visibly rocked it, but other than a cracked dent it wasn’t hurt. Teshen took advantage of the distraction though, hammering one long knife right into the joint of its pincer. That done he turned and ran once again, this time heading away from the golantha while Toil and Aben fired at its face.
The golantha swung around, almost impaling Teshen with one of its legs, but he escaped by a whisker. Then he stopped and Lynx realised the other, larger golantha had scuttled out of the Under-Avenue to cut off his escape. Checking around, Teshen dived aside as the vengeful smaller one lunged for him. Somehow he managed to elude its stabbing grasp and came up cutting furiously. Lynx saw him score a hit, but th
e golantha didn’t notice.
It swung around and used its huge bulk to swat him to the ground. Beside him, Lynx heard Safir moan with horror. Its injured pincer, still impaled with Teshen’s knife, was moving awkwardly, but the other was more than enough.
The golantha punched that right into Teshen’s gut, forcing a howl of pain from the man. It lifted him up, impaled and trying to crush him but its injured pincer wouldn’t allow it. Astonishingly, Teshen continued to slash at the beast’s face with his remaining knife. There was a spray of fluid as he tore open one of its eyes, but then the golantha pulled him closer and bit into his face with its mass of mandibles. Teshen jerked and fell limp.
‘Run!’ Toil yelled at them, seeing the Knight of Stars was dead.
She grabbed Safir and Lynx by the shoulders, dragging them back until their wits returned and then stumbled after her. There was no time to check if the golantha were following. Lynx glimpsed his hand as he ran, trying to ignore the roaring sound of blood in his ears, and felt a flicker of relief that his tattoos were not shining.
Round one corner, on to a wide street that led up to the building Sanshir had directed the Cards to. Off to the right were Kas and Suth, waiting at the entrance to the Low Gardens. They waved them forward with frantic gestures.
‘What happened?’ Toil roared as they got close.
‘Bloody misfires,’ Kas shouted back, ‘two of them! If Teshen hadn’t drawn it off, we’d be dead right now.’
‘It got him,’ Safir said, the anguish clear in his voice. ‘Damn thing killed him.’
‘Fuck!’ Kas shook her head and glanced behind her then started running up towards the Cards. There was a long stepped slope up to the odd angular blocks Sanshir had pointed out – open ground that offered no cover.
There was no time for anything else. Up ahead, Lynx could see Anatin calling them forward, the windows of the central stone block bristling with gun muzzles.
‘Move, you bastards!’ Anatin yelled with rare urgency.
Lynx fought the urge to look over his shoulder, but he didn’t need to when Anatin’s eyes widened and the commander physically recoiled.
‘Deepest black, two of them!’
‘Reft and Deern are ready,’ Kas gasped as she stumbled to a halt.
Running inside, Lynx turned and saw the faster golantha just thirty yards away. He yelled for some ammo and Foren shoved an earther in his hand.
‘Hold!’ Anatin bellowed as loud as he could, Payl doing the same at the other end of the room.
The remaining Cards huddled at the windows of what Lynx now saw was a wide gallery hall, long tables running its full length and dark doorways leading off behind. He loaded and brought his gun up. When the golantha reached the base of the slope leading up to the hall, Anatin roared the order and the whole company opened fire. Seven or eight earthers smashed into it, rocking the golantha backwards while icers peppered its side.
The impact stopped it and made the creature curl its legs up to its body, but just as Lynx felt a surge of elation, the golantha wriggled. It moved groggily, stunned by the volley, but then its legs stretched. The wounds from the dark-bolts were clear now it wasn’t moving. A chunk had been gouged from its side where the broken legs were, but it had a dozen pairs left and those started it moving forward almost immediately.
The golantha closed on them as Cards on all sides yelled for ammo, but Foren just shouted back that there were no more earthers left. A hush fell over the company, the blood draining from their faces, as they saw the golantha turn its bulbous tail end towards then.
It never had the chance to unleash the strange chemical sting they’d seen before. A black hammer blow struck it in the side and folded it in on itself. The golantha screeched in pain and turned, only to have a second dark-bolt strike it directly below its head.
A gout of grey dust burst up through the air and the golantha spasmed. Lynx gasped. The shot had nearly cut it in half, ripped right through the golantha even before the terrible magic started eating away at its insides. The strange hushing sound echoed over the stone ground as the beast fell still, half-disintegrating before their eyes. A cloud of dust lifted up like its soul being carried away.
Lynx looked left. There was Deern, leaning against Reft with his mage-gun smoking gently in the night air. The rat-faced mercenary made an obscene gesture at the dead golantha then grinned at his comrades. Sanshir stood beside them, surveying the corpse with a scowl. Deern stepped up on to a low wall and took an extravagant bow as the Cards cheered.
Toil pushed her way forward, bodily shoving Haphori out of the way to step out into the moonlight.
‘There’s fucking two of them!’ she roared, stopping their celebrations in an instant. ‘Two! You just used our last dark-bolts!’
‘Eh?’
As Deern replied, his partner put a meaty hand on his shoulder. The small man turned, his mouth falling open as the slower of the golantha heaved its way forward. Its once-dark carapace had a whitish sheen to it, one that showed up its oily iridescence in the moonlight. Lastani’s ice magic had left it permanently marked somehow – scarred by a furious torrent of energy which even a creature that fed on magic couldn’t handle.
The eyes on its right-hand side were a ruined mess, torn flesh and congealed blood, or whatever the golantha had instead perhaps. Its mouthparts were similarly brutalised, one antenna missing and the other casting just a ragged light. Two legs on the near side trailed limp, another seemed to be missing entirely. Even the great curves of armour on its back were cracked and holed, while the light that pulsed through it was jerky and fitful. Everything about what was left seemed intent on vengeance, however.
‘What do we have?’
‘Nothing,’ Foren shouted, holding up a handful of burners and sparkers from the bag they’d kept back.
Safir grabbed a burner from the man and loaded it. As the golantha started to heave towards the aghast trio at the Low Gardens, Safir fired. The streak of fire raced down the slope and burst over the golantha, but the beast didn’t even draw back. If anything it seemed to relish the brief cloud of orange flames. The golantha turned into the impact and flicked its remaining antennae, sweeping the fire up in a net of green threads that waxed bright as the flames vanished.
The sight was enough to make Sanshir, Reft and Deern turn tail, but by then the golantha had turned towards the source of the burner – where it could no doubt sense the remaining mage cartridges.
‘Lastani hurt it,’ Lynx said. He looked around. ‘Who’s got an earther? Come on, one of you shitweasels has held back. Time to be a hero.’
He was met with only blank faces, but then Anatin himself gave a cough. The commander reached into his cartridge case and pulled out a single small cartridge – pistol size, but even in the weak moonlight Lynx could see the symbol of Ulfer inscribed.
‘Last resort,’ Anatin said by way of explanation. ‘In case I had no more running left in me.’
Lynx grabbed the cartridge and loaded it into his own pistol, lying empty in its holster at his hip.
‘Last resort,’ he said, bending low over the bag of remaining mage cartridges. They were the ones that hadn’t proved to be of much use in a fight, that might only make a man smell more like magic to the beast. Burners, sparkers, several dozen surplus icers plus a few fire grenades. ‘Shit, I’ve been here before, ain’t I?’
‘You’re doing that?’ Toil asked, taken off balance.
‘Is there another choice? I don’t see Sitain waving any more dark-catridges anywhere.’
To that, she had no response. Lynx didn’t look at her, he didn’t think he could bear it. There was no time for a final kiss or any bold words. The golantha was slow, but not that slow. Lynx plucked a sparker from the bag and tossed it to Suth.
‘How good a shot are you?’
The woman caught it and cocked her head at him even as she slotted the cartridge into her long gun.
‘Good.’
‘Get ready then.’
&nbs
p; Lynx scooped up the bag and was about to set off when Toil suddenly shouted.
‘Wait!’
He paused to see her frantically tugging off a spare belt around her waist. It took him a moment but then Lynx remembered the mage balls Sitain had given her – weak, but five of them and dark magic. She placed that in the bag and he nodded as he set off out of the door, not trusting himself to speak. The golanatha was less than thirty yards off and heading straight for them. From what he could see, its tail was undamaged – it could wreck the whole building as they tried to escape through it.
Lynx didn’t stop, didn’t want to think about what would be coming next. The world closed in around him, terror eclipsed by determination. For a few long seconds his mind simply watched with surreal dispassion. All Lynx could feel was the groan of his knees, the pound of his feet on stone, the huff of hot breath as he sucked in all the air he could.
Exhaustion was a looming spectre, fear a pursing hound. In front of him the golantha reared up, ready to gather him in with its twisted, bloody pincers and mandibles. Every step seemed to make it bigger and more mind-numbingly horrifying, but Lynx turned his eyes to the ground. Every last scrap of sense he had left was desperately counting down the steps. Five, two, one.
He swung around, not trying to stop the sprint but turning it into a spinning movement. His foot twisted underneath him and Lynx felt himself stumble, but momentum carried him around. The weight of the bag hauled at his arm as he brought it in a long circle. Lynx caught a glimpse of the Cards spilling out of the great hallway, Toil and Suth fighting their way clear. Suth had her mage-gun at the ready. Lynx glimpsed the muzzle rising as the bag dragged him back around and towards the monster.
He found himself tipping forwards, his balance gone, feet no longer underneath him. He was falling, flying towards the feet of the golantha but the bag was everything. Lynx let it slip his fingers as he saw the creature appear in his blurred vision. The bag rose up in an ungainly and wobbling arc through the night air.