by T J Marquis
He fell asleep unintentionally, slumped against the stump of a wall, and was wakened by a hoarse whisper.
"Hey, kid," said the voice. Axebourne? Agrathor? A hand touched him. A big, hard hand.
Pierce forced his eyes open. It was deep night, and the silver moon was obscured by the remnants of a pottery shop's facade. The person touching him was merely a shadow in the darkness. Less than even a shadow, almost like a hole.
"Kid, it's me," the voice came again. "I snuck out of Testadel."
"S-Sev?" Pierce croaked.
"Yeah, it's me," Sev said.
"Why can't I see you?" Pierce asked.
"Another special color," Sev said proudly. "I call it doubleblack. Darker than black."
Pierce straightened up a bit, rubbing his eyes. "Can you, I don't know, take it off?"
"Yeah, I used it on an aura bracelet. I just... didn't want anyone in your group to try and kill me, see?"
Of course, Pierce realized. If anyone saw a lone forgemaster approaching the camp, he would be dead before he could say a single word.
"So can you... get me in?" said Sev. He sounded nervous.
"Get you into what?" Pierce shook his head.
"Gorgonbane, man. I'll walk with the normal guys in the back, even. I just can't stay in that place any more."
"Huh. Well. I can ask, I guess. I'm not really even technically in it myself, yet. Here. Go hide in the rubble and don't move until I come back or call you. I doubt Axebourne'll like being woken up, but I'd hate for someone to find you when the sun comes up."
Sev moved away into some ruins, surprisingly silent for such a big person.
Pierce needn't have feared waking the leader of Gorgonbane. Axebourne was already up, stoically watching the still, silent Testadel.
"Hey, sir," Pierce said, coming up beside Axebourne.
"What you doin' up, kid? I've got the watch, no worries."
"I actually was asleep, but..."
"You hear something, see something?" Axebourne asked.
"We have a defector, sir," Pierce said. "Someone I know from my time in Testadel."
Axebourne's eyes were bright in the dark. "That forgemaster that had pity on you?" he said.
"Yes, sir. Seventy-seven. I call him Sev," said Pierce.
Axebourne was quiet a moment. "Alright," he said. "Where is he?"
"I'll go get him, sir," Pierce said. He began to move away, then stopped, looking back over his shoulder. "You won't execute him, will you?"
Axebourne didn't answer at first. Pierce had seen the way he treated the people he cared about - his wife, his comrades and friends. Inwardly he must be aching at the day's events. He might wish to avenge it in part on one of Kash's minions.
"No, son," he said at last. "I won't kill him."
Pierce fetched Sev from his hiding place, cautioning him to stick to the shadows as they skirted the camp toward Axebourne's position. He'd hate for someone to randomly wake and feel threatened. They might attack, despite Pierce's presence.
Soon they reached Axebourne, who clearly still couldn't see the forgemaster. By this point, Pierce had gotten a sense of what to look for - a spot that was just a little too dark, even in the night shadows of the razed city.
"It's okay, Sev," Pierce said. "Go ahead and... well do whatever, so he can see you."
There seemed to be a hesitation, but Sev deactivated his doubleblack enchantment and appeared just a few feet away from them.
The forgemaster was large and imposing in stature, but something about his bearing removed any threat of violence. He hunched forward slightly, as if the years of toiling away at his forges and worktables had warped the shape of his spine. His head was tilted down, his shoulders drawn in, giving him a wizened look. A grey leather apron hung from his neck and down to the knees of his baggy pants. His skin, too, was grey, looking dry and cracked, as if he were made of stone.
He had fixed Pierce with deep-set black eyes.
He trusts me, Pierce thought. Why? All I did was not to kill him.
"So you're the Forgemaster Seventy-Seven," said Axebourne.
"Just Forgemaster Seventy-Seven, sir," said Sev. "No the."
"Pierce here has told us a lot about you. That was some good work on the blue dust." He said the color's name strangely, as if barely familiar with it.
Sev straightened a little at the praise. His rough lips flattened in something Pierce thought might be a smile.
"So what makes you want to leave the Underlord's service?" asked Axebourne. "Has he not treated you well?" This may have been sarcasm, but Sev didn't get it.
"You are the Cleaver," Sev said. "They still talk about you in Testadel."
"Do they?" Axebourne said knowingly. "And what do they say?"
"That you... cleaved a thousand gen's heads from their shoulders in the Alban wars."
The Cleaver looked out toward Testadel. "Hmm," he said. "Well, close enough."
Sev cast his eyes to the ground. "Yes, Kash treats us well. We are fed whatever we wish, and he helps us strengthen our bodies." He put a hand on his opposite bicep, which bulged under the grey skin. "That wasn't why I desired to leave."
"Why, then?"
Sev followed Axebourne's gaze toward the fortress.
"When Pierce didn't kill me," he said, "I saw a side of Overlanders, a side of everything, I'd never seen before."
He turned his face back to Pierce. "I realize how stupid that sounds," he said. "I'm not simple."
Pierce held up his hands. "Hey, I think I get it," he said. He thought he did.
"I knew you came to steal a bauble or weapon," Sev said, "but I could just tell it wasn't only for glory. You had a purpose. You knew what you wanted out of life, and you were going for it." He looked down again. "Forgemasters don't do that. No one really said we couldn't, but we just don't. So I decided I wanted to find a purpose too."
"With Gorgonbane," Pierce said.
Sev shook his big, bald head. "No. Maybe. It's more that this is the only place I could think of to start."
The three of them were silent. Then Axebourne turned his head to study the forgemaster for a long minute.
"Bah," he growled, but smiled. "I'm no Scythia, to judge the truth in a man. If Pierce trusts you, though, then I do too. Don't make me regret it, Sev Blueforger."
Sev gave another flat smile and awkwardly offered his arm for Axebourne to clasp. The Cleaver chuckled and took it firmly.
"Grip of a dogran, man!" he said. Then, "Come, Pierce, I'm tired of staring at that scum-sucking place. No offense, forgemaster. You take a shift while I go spoon my wife." Axebourne slapped him on the back as he walked away, and Pierce was left on watch with Sev.
"What will you do now?" Sev asked when the Cleaver had gone.
"I don't think we know," said Pierce. "I don't think it's really set in that Grondell is gone. I mean, we're still in it, but now, it's nothing. They called it the Everlasting Temple. People studied the ways of the Blacksmith, and all the forms of power he gifted to us. There was art there from... who knows how long ago. All gone. I'm staring at it right now, but still, it's like it happened in a dream. Like it's not real."
"Such was my master's... such was the Underlord's plan," said Sev. "He wanted to make Overland hurt. Not just one town, or even a handful of cities, but the whole of it. He said that when the news spreads, there will be weeping."
Pierce started. "You spoke with him directly?"
"On occasion," Sev shrugged. "He likes to take meals with the forgemasters from time to time. Painreapers too. It's good for morale. Sometimes you'll even catch him sweeping up after Monstrosity larvae."
How slow am I? Pierce thought to himself. Only now had he realized what a gold mine Sev would be to Gorgonbane, and to Overland as a whole. If he was willing to speak about Kash and Testadel, about their ways and secrets, it could help turn the tide of everything that was to come.
Surely Axebourne had realized this. Why would he leave Sev with Pierce and not interrogate him ri
ght then and there?
Then Pierce saw it. He recalled the sparkle of trust in Sev's dark eyes. Axebourne had led many men in his time. He would have recognized it too. He could have asked, or demanded information from the forgemaster, and Sev may have been willing to share. Yet if he was allowed to reach out at his own pace, his help would be earnest, uncoerced, and all the more valuable.
A thousand questions had cropped up in Pierce's mind, but he bit them back. He had been starting to think Sev could be a friend. Treating him as an asset would alter everything.
Let it return to that, he thought. Forget about what he knows, and just help him find his way.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A Loss of Flesh
Pierce wasn't sure he could go back to sleep. Sev didn't seem to be too interested either.
So they sat together on a pile of rubble and watched the moon slide across the sky, chatting intermittently.
"I've been curious," Sev said, "about the golem on your team."
"Golem?" Pierce asked. Ess's servant had been left behind at Brackenverge.
"The skeleton that moves and speaks," said Sev. "Do you know how they forged it? Kash had asked for such things many times, but it was a secret none of us had been able to crack open."
"Agrathor?" Pierce asked. He chuckled. "He's not a golem. He's a man. That's his real skeleton."
Sev looked surprised.
"I was surprised too," said Pierce. "I thought he was a monster at first. I was ready to melt his bones."
"I am sure he appreciated your restraint."
"Then I was curious. I asked about his... condition," Pierce said, raising a hand to where his eye had been blackened. "He's a little sensitive about it."
"As anyone would be."
"I guess so. Anyway, he told me how it happened. I guess he won't mind if I tell you, at least if he doesn't know. Spare you the black eye."
"I would love to hear," said Sev.
"They actually weren't called Gorgonbane during the Alban wars, where they earned most of their reputation. It wasn't until a few years later, in the gorgon outbreak, that they got their name. It was a good time for mercenaries - people all over the continent were getting turned into stone outside their cities and villages, so there was no lack of jobs. Agrathor and the others had already slain a dozen or so lesser gorgons, mostly cattle feeders, a few abductors. They got called out to Helmforge in the southwest for a real nasty one. Someone was paying ten times the usual rate, just to get rid of this thing.
"It was more aggressive than most gorgons. It didn't just lure people in with promises of treasure or other glamours - it would actually go out hunting for its food, and it had a thing for children. The people of Helmforge called it the Hydragon, claiming its many snake heads would regenerate and multiply if cut off.
"So Axebourne and the others tracked it down to its lair and infiltrated. The Hydragon had wights on patrol in its maze of tunnels, but the group's enchanted weapons made short work of those. They heard the thing's voice as they neared its nest. It was already trying to mess with their heads.
"'Pretty things. Pretty people, come in,' it said. To the men it sounded female, to the women it sounded like a man. 'I'm sorry that my wights weren't better company. Usually they are far more welcoming. Did you remember to offer them a bone to chew on? They so love bones.'
"The Hydragon went on with its chattering. 'Who will keep me company? They say my caresses cannot be matched, for I have many hands.' The monster's lair was a high cavern, columns, archways and alcoves revealing that it had once been a structure - probably a temple. Now it had been underground for so long, everything had been covered in a layer of minerals. It almost looked natural.
"'We won't fall for your attempt at lovely words,' Agrathor growled at it. 'And you're only revealing your position.' The thing laughed in the darkness. 'Did you come for the children?' it asked. 'I'm afraid they've already gone.'
"The group fanned out, keeping to cover as much as possible. If any one of the thing's heads revealed itself, they'd be turned to stone in an instant, so they all closed their eyes. Ess knew a spell that would reveal the Hydragon's body heat in the audible spectrum, and she activated it. Everyone was taken aback to hear the hiss of the monster's presence coming from nearly every direction.
"It must have sensed the spell's activation. It cried and began to lash out with its many heads. The group had been up to this for months, though, and had lots of practice fighting blind. Only with the Hydragon, every head they lopped off was replaced by two more. The only respite was the brief retreat of each snakelike appendage as it generated new heads. The thing laughed, thinking them foolish.
"The group knew they needed a better plan. Scythia gained them some time by throwing a gem-bomb toward the far end of the room. She got lucky. When it detonated, the Hydragon screeched and its heads retreated.
"'We're going to have to hit the body,' Agrathor said. 'We can't just keep lopping off heads. It's going to have to be the heart.' But how would they get in that close?
"'Bum rush,' Axebourne said. 'We form up in a wedge and cut through. We'll just have to commit to it, since we'll probably be doubling its number of heads as we defend ourselves.'
"'Alright,' Agrathor said. 'You be the wings, I'll take point. I can stop its heart with lightning.' The others asked if he was sure. 'It's the best plan we have,' he said. So they formed up and charged.
"Human heads on snake bodies lashed at them from every direction, and the sound of slicing and thumps of severed parts filled the air. Finally they were close enough, but Agrathor had to open his eyes to be certain of his aim. One of the Hydragon's heads was waiting. It captured his gaze and he felt himself beginning to turn to stone from the feet up.
He'd been a handsome man, built like a slender tree with a shock of bright yellow hair all the ladies swooned over.
"'Take cover!' he cried to the others 'It got me, but I think I can get close en--'
"Agrathor told me he saw the final moment before darkness closed in. A thousand gorgon heads were focused on him, bringing their senseless hate to bear on him. The feeling of petrification was like having his body parts sawn off by a lumberjack, in one inch slices, each portion of flesh being ripped from the last. Trying to move was just as terrifyingly impossible as in a nightmare of paralyzation. He knew he should be able to, and he wanted to move, but he simply couldn't. His skin turned to stone first, then his muscles, and he felt his blood slow as his heart turned. His eyes went next, and he could still feel a sensation like intoxicating poison, as if all the fluid in his body had been replaced by a strong mead. He had one last thought for his friends and everything went black."
Pierce and Sev were both quiet.
"The others were in a panic. One gorgon, they could kill, but this Hydragon had just taken the best of them. If Agrathor's wild power wasn't enough, what could be? As they wracked their brains, keeping their eyes tightly shut, they began to hear a cracking sound.
"Agrathor told me the black felt endless, until it ended. He saw one green flame, dancing in the darkness, and reached with invisible hands to take hold of it. His anger at being petrified grew, and the green flame grew with it. He felt the lightning gathering in his bones, felt the vibration of the Hydragon's movement, the distant thumps of his comrades' hearts. A voice spoke to him from out of the darkness.
"'It is not yet time, child. Break free. Do not give up.' So Agrathor let his power surge, and felt the stone that had been his body began to crack. With a burst of lightning greater than any he'd ever released, he destroyed the stone shell imprisoning him, reborn. Stone flew in all directions, and the light of his power illuminated the cavern. A shockwave knocked his friends off their feet, sent gorgon heads flying backward, brought stalactites raining down from overhead. He was mere feet from the Hydragon's body, some arcane cross between a human's and a snake's. He skewered it through the chest with his spear and began to feed lightning into its heart.
"The monster screame
d and flailed, but Agrathor's body was protected by an aura of electricity - it couldn't make contact. Even if it could, there was nothing left to bite or turn to stone.
"Agrathor channeled all his rage into one mighty pulse of lightning, and the Hydragon's black heart burst right through its chest, it's many foul appendages falling to the floor, twitching with receding life.
"Agrathor felt at himself, looked at his hands, arms, legs. He had not one scrap of flesh left. Only bones. He fell to his knees and wept drily. The others couldn't believe it was him, but they knew they had to."
Pierce and Sev were silent again for a while.
"He'd known taking point against the monster would be dangerous, but it wasn't the sacrifice he'd expected to make. They fully dismembered the Hydragon just to be prudent, and when they had moved its body out of the way, they found the eggs. Hundreds of them. Agrathor was still weeping, so the others set the eggs aflame, and then they left. After that, the gorgon infestation began to dwindle. Finally, it ended."
"It was the mother of all the rest," Sev said. "We heard the tales, even in the forgemaster's halls. I always wondered where they had come from. I feel... sorry for the man."
"Me too," said Pierce.
"I know what it is to feel unreal, non-organic. I myself am not entirely natural."
"Really?" said Pierce. He'd always wondered about forgemasters, but he hadn't wanted to press Sev.
"Do you wonder at my stature?" Sev asked. Pierce nodded. "We are both gen and Monstrosity. Does that surprise you?"
"Absolutely," said Pierce, eyes wide. At one time, he might have felt threatened, but this was Sev.
"For this reason, many think us simple," said Sev.
"You're not dumb, Sev," Pierce said.
"Thank you, friend," Sev smiled flatly. "You are not either."
The pair went back to watching the moon slide across the sky. Not a sound pierced the dark of night over the ruined city.
"And thank you for the tale," Sev said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Blue