by Pedro Urvi
“Urda! What are they doing to you!”
“She’s paralyzed.”
A fearful anguish clutched at Kyra’s chest. He’s going to kill her! By Oxatsi, he’s going to kill her!
Suddenly a hundred silver rods rose up inside the pod and advanced slowly until they had pierced Urda’s entire body: starting at her feet, then up her legs, body and arms as far as her neck, as though a hundred silver needles had pierced a pin-cushion.
“Noooo!” was Kyra’s desperate cry.
“What you are about to witness is the Power of the Gods. A power so great and exceptional that the mere idea of rebelling against it is both useless and suicidal.”
Oskas raised his arm, and the Eyes activated the monolith. The pipe that linked the monolith to the pod swelled, and a new substance, ochre this time, entered the pod. Urda’s body began to react at the contact with it. Her skin began to lose its natural color, and turned metallic and sickly. Her body swelled as though reacting to an allergy.
The Master Spy went over to the pod, hands behind his back, and watched Urda. “This conversion process usually lasts between three and five days and nights. Many don’t come through. The conversion ratio is quite low, which is a real shame. Although it’s understandable, as the process is traumatic and painful. Only those with above-average health and constitution manage to survive. Luckily your friend meets both requirements, even exceeds them. You don’t need to worry. She’ll probably survive.”
At that moment Kyra realized what Oskas was about to do. He can’t do that, he can’t transform her, it’s not possible! She shook her head at the horror of it. As she did so, another thought struck her. They aren’t human. They’re Enforcers, not human beings. Her mind was struggling between what her eyes and understanding showed her, and the concept that the Enforcers were a sub-species of the Gods, distinct from men. It cannot be! That would be an abomination!
The monolith began to flash, and strange runes appeared and disappeared on it.
“Do we inject, my lord?”
“Go ahead.”
The Eyes-of-the-Gods manipulated the monolith. The rods embedded all over Urda’s body turned black. A liquid the same color began to enter her body. Flesh and veins took on the same tone.
“Noooooo! Please!”
Urda’s body began to shake uncontrollably, but the rods held it in position. The substance she was floating in was turning ochre, and the transformation was beginning to have an effect on her body: it expanded, with muscles and veins swelling disproportionately. Her skin was turning a deeper ochre, with the veins now swollen and black.
“Your friend is strong. I like that. Look on the power of the Gods, look on the futility of rebelling against them.”
“Nooooo, stop!”
“It’s too late. If I stopped now, your friend would die. The conversion must be completed.”
“I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll kill you!”
“I’ll leave you now, so that you can witness the process and think about it. I’ll be back when it’s over. For your own good, I hope you’ll learn your lesson.”
“You’re insane! You won’t make me change what I think!”
“You’re wrong once again, child. I can change what you think, what you feel and who you’ll serve to the end of your days. I can turn you into that” ‒ he indicated one of the Eyes ‒ “just by putting you in one of those pods. Don’t tempt your fate.”
“Bastard!”
Oskas turned to Solma. “Make your daughter understand, or it’ll be the end of her.”
Solma bowed her head, and tears ran down her cheeks.
The master-spy turned toward the exit. “Don’t let her miss a single detail,” he ordered the Executors.
For three days and nights Kyra watched her friend suffering an agonizing torment while her body changed under the effects of the corrupting liquid she was submerged in, and the black poison she was being injecting with. She saw her shake with pain, convulse uncontrollably, cry out in muffled desperation, and with every moment of that torture another piece of Kyra’s heart broke. The Executors forced her to witness the torment as Oskas had ordered. Solma, now out of the pod, tried to comfort her with tender words, but to no avail. They were killing her friend slowly in front of her, and there was nothing she could do. She was powerless, and it was eating at her soul. During the few moments she was able to sleep, her dreams turned to nightmares, at which point she would be hit by an Executor to be woken up and brought back to reality, which was only another, still more horrible, nightmare.
The sight of her friend’s torture made her feel enormously guilty. Urda’s body was no longer hers. It had been transformed into that of an Enforcer. It was stronger, more muscular, bigger than before. Her skin was now ochre, her veins black and swollen. Even her face was changing: the black corruption had spread up her neck and her face had broadened. She had also lost all her hair. She looked like a muscular yellow-brown giant with some lethal illness coursing through her veins. But one thing was still intact: her eyes, which were unchanged.
Suddenly Urda closed them and lay there calmly, as though she had ceased to suffer. This worried Kyra. Is she dead? The monolith flashed, and a rune appeared at the top. No, she can’t be dead. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever known. She has to survive.
“What’s happened, Mother?”
“I don’t know, my child. Hold on.”
“What has happened is that the process of transformation has been completed,” said Oskas. He had appeared from nowhere, as if taking shape out of the gloom of the ceiling. For an instant Kyra thought she saw him descending, suspended in the air.
“Is she alive?” she asked in anguish.
Oskas looked at the Eyes, who nodded. “She is.”
“Thanks be to Oxatsi!” cried Solma.
“She’s a magnificent specimen. She only needed three days.”
“She’s no specimen! She’s Urda!”
“No. Her body isn’t that any longer. And soon her mind won’t be either.”
“No! What else are you going to do to her? Let her be!”
“I’m going to complete the conversion.”
“You’re a monster!”
“Oh, I’m much more than that, even though you’re unable to appreciate it,” said Oskas. He turned to Urda. “Let’s finish it.”
A new humming filled the hall. The rods embedded in Urda’s body drew back slowly. She remained suspended in the ochre liquid which covered her. There was an abrupt pop, and the liquid drained away through another pipe. Urda collapsed on to the floor of the pod.
“Take her out and complete the process.”
The Oppressors seized Urda and placed her on a black marble table. She was now so large and heavy that it took four of them to move her. They shackled her hands and feet, and Oskas went to examine her.
“Excellent. Just as I hoped.”
“You bastard! Stop it!”
“Remember, I can still kill her if I choose to.”
Kyra bit her tongue. Bitter, helpless tears ran down her cheeks.
“The helmet,” Oskas ordered, and one of the Eyes brought the two halves of a Custodian’s helmet.
“No, please…” Solma implored him.
“It must be done. It’s the only way she’s going to learn.”
“I’ll do whatever you want,” Kyra begged, “but stop it, please, stop…”
“I’m pleased to note that you’re beginning to see the light.” Oskas took hold of the back of the helmet, raised Urda’s head and neck and placed it on her.
“Please…” Kyra begged, sobbing.
Oskas took no notice. “The disc,” he said, and held out his hand.
The Eye-of-the-Gods on his right handed him a disc the size of a cherry. It was golden, and completely flat. Oskas placed it on Urda’s forehead, between her eyes, which opened at that moment. He pressed it against her forehead, and there was a metallic click. The disc began to turn like a screw, penetrating flesh and bone
.
“Look at your friend for the last time. Once the disc’s implanted, she’ll cease to be who she was and become a faithful Enforcer of the Gods. Her mind, her being, will belong to them. Forever.”
Kyra looked into her friend’s eyes, and Urda gazed back at her. She did not seem to be feeling pain. Her gaze was one of peaceful recognition. Kyra was sobbing desperately.
“Urda… my friend…” was all she could say before tears choked her.
Urda looked at her one last time, proudly, and clenched her fist hard as though telling her to keep fighting.
There was a new click, and the disc was left embedded in her forehead.
Oskas activated it, and it flashed with the golden of the Gods.
“Now she’s one of us,” said the master-spy to Kyra, and showed her Urda’s eyes. They had turned completely golden.
“Nooooo!” Kyra screamed. She tried to reach her friend, but the Executors pushed her down on to the floor and held her there. She tried to fight, but she had no more strength; she was empty.
Oskas picked up the front of the helmet and held it above Urda’s head.
“Seal it,” he said to the Eyes-of-the-Gods.
“You didn’t have to…” Kyra said from the floor. Her voice was no more than a whisper.
“Oh, but I did. You had to learn that nothing can be done against the Gods. That those who rebel end up dead, or like your friend. That’s a rule you need to learn. And in your case, it could only be the hard way.”
“Why so much suffering?” Solma put in. “Why kill her friend so that she has to bear that on her conscience?”
“Look at your daughter now. She’s broken. Broken by agony and suffering. She’s learnt the lesson, and she’ll never forget it. It’ll always be with her.”
“It’s a cruel lesson. Abominable.”
“So it may be, but it’s a lesson which will save your daughter’s life. You don’t see it now, but I assure you it’s so. One day, very soon, that lesson will save her life. And you’ll have to thank me for what I’ve done.”
Solma bowed her head and shook it. “Will I have to thank you for saving the life of your own daughter, Siul?”
Kyra’s head whipped towards her mother. “What are you saying? It’s impossible!”
“Don’t ever utter that name in my presence. I’m no longer that man. The Gods gave me a new existence; they made me into someone superior. They’ve taught me the Golden way, given me a divine purpose to follow. One I shall attain.”
“What purpose could be stronger than your own family, than your own blood?”
“He’s not my father! Tell me he isn’t, Mother! Tell me my father’s dead, that he’s not that monster!”
Solma looked at Kyra with tears in her eyes and nodded. “He’s your father,” she said full of pity and regret
“No! I refuse to believe that! He can’t be!”
“I was a man, but not just any man. I was a hybrid, one with the Power. They made me into an Enforcer. But one day, not very distant, I’ll become one of them. One day I’ll become a Golden.”
“You’re crazy! You’ll never be one of them!” Kyra yelled.
“Inside you there must still be something of Siul,” Solma said to him, “some trace of who you once were, no matter how slight...”
“You’re wrong, woman. Now I’m Oskas, and when I ascend I’ll be a Golden. There’s nothing left in me of that weak man I once was!
“For the good of your soul, I hope there is.”
Oskas laughed. A deep, disdainful laugh. “Don’t you worry about my soul, the Gods hold it. It’s already doomed. But remember my words, woman: today I’ve saved your daughter’s life, our daughter’s life.”
“I’m not your daughter, you miserable freak!”
“Take her away and lock her up. Keep her well guarded. I don’t want any surprises, and she’s not to be trusted.”
The Executors nodded.
“As for you, Solma: I can do nothing more. The Regent has plans for all you captured rebels. I’ll give you to him, since my mission was to capture Kyra and that’s what I’ve done. You might survive, I don’t know, although the chances are slim.”
“You swine!” cried Kyra from the floor, broken in body and soul.
“You’d better save your energy, child. We leave tomorrow for the Eternal City. Lord Asu has been waiting for your arrival for some time now. He’ll be very pleased.”
Kyra opened her eyes in terror. She had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. She felt empty, and her chest was deeply painful. She looked around and found she was a prisoner. She had no idea how long she had slept, but she guessed it could not have been much. She had been shut inside a sphere-cell again. Three Oppressors and two Executors stood guard along the walls of the chamber. Oskas would not allow her to escape; he had made sure of that. But she had to try. She had to get to Ikai, who would be searching for her. She could not allow Oskas to take her to that monster Asu. Thinking about Oskas made her stomach lurch.
It just can’t be. I refuse to believe it, even though Mother said so, She breathed in deeply in an attempt to calm herself. Focus on trying to escape, that’s the important thing now.
She stretched her hands through the bars. “Water, please...” she pleaded.
None of the Enforcers moved.
Damn brainless Enforcers. It’s not going to work. “I’m dying of thirst... If I die Oskas won’t like it, not to mention Lord Asu...”
But none of them moved.
An Eye-of-the-Gods appeared through the entrance tunnel and came over to her.
“Tricks won’t help you to escape.”
“It’s not a trick. If I don’t drink, I’ll die.”
“Weak, stupid slaves,” he said in his shrill voice. “I’m in charge of you, and you won’t die of thirst.” He went out and came back shortly afterwards with a bowl of water. “Here,” he said.
“If you opened the sphere I’d be able to drink more easily.”
The Eye let out a shriek, a mixture of a growl and a laugh. “If you want the water, take the bowl and drink as best you can. Only Oskas will open that cell. Those are his orders.”
Kyra clenched her jaw. She looked upwards, cursing the heavens, and saw something unusual. Fog was floating beneath the ceiling of the chamber. She blinked hard. I’m so exhausted I can’t see straight, she thought.
“Do you want the water or not, slave?” the Eye-of-the-Gods asked. He sounded annoyed.
“Give it to...” she started to say, when she saw something that left her speechless.
The fog which covered the ceiling began to spread downwards into the chamber: a thick fog which expanded as it came down. Alarmed at the sight of this strange phenomenon, the Enforcers reached for their weapons. Suddenly a figure in a gray cloak appeared floating within the fog. It descended rapidly to the floor and landed with the lightness of a feather, then remained crouching in the center of the chamber.
Kyra watched, her eyes wide.
The Enforcers raised their weapons: their whips for the Oppressors, their spears for the Executors, a disc for the Eye.
The stranger spread his arms wide and made a circular movement with them. At the same time a whitish substance flew from his hands and enveloped the Enforcers. The Oppressors were thrown into the air and hit the walls with massive force, breaking their bodies in the process. The Executors crashed into each other with a dull crack, breaking their backs as they did so. All died in the blink of an eye.
The figure stood up and turned to the Eye-of-the-God. The Enforcer tried to use his Disc, but the stranger’s gloved hand made a gesture. A thread of the strange fog struck the object, which flew out of the Eye’s hand. Then it coiled around his neck. There was a crack, and the Eye collapsed to one side.
Kyra had already seen that type of Power before, in a friend. But this fog was white, and more powerful.
“Albana? Is it you?”
The figure did not reply, but instead pointed at the bars. Instin
ctively Kyra drew back. The bars flew off into the air.
“You’ve come... to free me?” she asked hesitantly.
The figure nodded.
She got out of the cell but stopped. “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t tell me who you are.”
The figure raised a hand and made a downward gesture. The fog sank to the floor and enveloped them completely. Kyra could barely see a thing. The figure came to stand in front of her, very close, almost touching her. Then she realized it was very tall. It could not be Albana. She began to feel nervous. The hood fell back, and almond eyes in a beautiful golden face looked into her own.
“By Oxatsi, Ada―!”
His hand covered her mouth. “Shh,” he said, and put a slender finger to his lips. Kyra understood and nodded.
The mental message reached her with absolute clarity: I’ve come to rescue you. We must get away before we’re discovered.
Kyra smiled, filled with indescribable joy. She nodded.
Adamis put his arm around her waist, and they rose into the fog, in search of freedom.
Chapter 28
Honus made a face and covered his nose and mouth with his great paw of a hand. “It smells like a dead rat here!” he protested.
“And something else, much worse,” Karm said. He was looking around with narrowed eyes, trying to make out their surroundings in the gloom of the sewers. “But don’t grumble. We’re safe, and that’s what matters.”
Ikai was walking on beside Albana, who for some reason remained curiously quiet, as though she were angry with him. He had tried asking her what was troubling her, but had only got a cryptic you ought to know for an answer, and to be honest, he had no idea. All the same, he suspected it had something to do with Liriana, even though he had said and done nothing to upset Albana. Or at least, so he thought.
Gedrel and Liriana were in the lead. They seemed to know that gloomy labyrinth of tunnels and channels well. Ikai was taking in every detail of the strange underground world they were losing themselves in. He had the clear feeling he was entering the gloomiest and most inaccessible part of the city.