by Eyal Kless
“Daeon was obviously second in command, and the others listened to what he said. I didn’t know what oiled Daeon’s joints, but my instinct told me his loyalty to Nakamura was beyond a doubt. Herev, on the other hand, was a true mercenary—tough and dangerous. I saw him practice, and he could wield a power sword like lightning. I thought perhaps Herev was the one I could turn, the way he looked at me . . .” I could see Vincha’s face flush even in the gloom. She sighed. “In that kind of situation, you use whatever you’ve got. Those guys hadn’t seen a woman in a long time, even one without hair and in my condition. So I knew both Daeon and Herev wanted me, but Daeon was too loyal and Herev’s desire for wealth was more powerful than lust. He would stick to Nakamura as long as he thought the plan was moving forward. Sci was always polite, gentle, even caring, but he never showed any interest in me.
“All the while Rafik was slowly wasting away. It drove me crazy, but there was nothing I could do to help him. If the others thought Rafik’s condition was a sign that Nakamura’s ability to predict the future was not reliable, they didn’t show it. Every time I tried to talk about it, I hit solid metal. Daeon and Sci simply changed the topic of conversation. Herev told me to ‘shut my rusting gob.’
“I thought Rafik was going to die, simple as that. No one could survive without food and on so little fluid. I saw him wasting away, growing thinner, paler, his breathing so slow that all of us found ourselves looking for a pulse at some point.
“On the eighth day Rafik woke up. Herev said the puzzle box just beeped suddenly and a second later Rafik opened his eyes. I was not beside him, but he asked for me almost immediately.
“I won’t lie, I was happy to see him. By the time I arrived at the room the crew was there, and he’d changed clothes and was attempting to eat a bowl of broth Sci brought him. Still, he was as white as a ghost and . . .” She hesitated.
“And what?” Galinak asked. We were all awake and alert now.
“He was different. There was something in his eyes. I hugged him, and when I let him go he just looked at me as if he were dissecting me to pieces and putting me back together again. He said ‘Vincha’ once, in a quiet voice, and when I answered he just said my name again, and again and again, maybe five or six times, like he was memorizing it.
“Then he turned to me and said, ‘Did you know that your name comes from Vishiya, who was a goddess worshipped by warriors at sea more than three thousand years before the Catastrophe?’
“‘No I didn’t know that,’ I said. ‘How do you know this?’
“‘I don’t know how I know,’ Rafik frowned. ‘But I’m sure it’s true.’
“Our conversation was cut off by the arrival of Nakamura. As soon as he stepped into the room, Rafik announced, ‘I’ve solved the puzzle box,’ but there was no triumph in his voice. It was a simple, stated fact, no more.
“Nakamura leaned a little on his black staff and let out a soft sigh. ‘I knew you’d solve it. I had no doubt—’
“‘Yet you are relieved.’ Rafik’s voice was calm but distant.
“For the first time there was a hint of hesitation in Nakamura’s voice. ‘My predictions are often accurate, but sometimes . . . sometimes I don’t understand what I see until it is too late. I said before that our meeting brings us closer to the best of possible futures, but there was a chance, a certain future in which you died.’
“‘I will die,’ Rafik said suddenly, his eyes unfocused. ‘We are all going to die.’
“‘Would you stop this rusting conversation about death?’ Herev said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Rafik ignored him, fixing his attention on Nakamura. ‘We need to go to the City within the Mountain.’
“‘Take a couple of days to recover,’ Nakamura answered.
“But Rafik shook his head. ‘No, I want to go by first light. I have seen it, and it is glorious.’
“The crew exchanged glances.
“‘Seen what, pup? Did you see our treasure?’ Herev grinned.
“‘The Great Puzzle. I have seen it now, not in my dreams but for real. It is—’
“‘Forget the rusting puzzles,’ Herev snorted. ‘What about the freaking unrusted metal? The good, old-fashioned Tarakan artifacts? The personal heat-seeking missiles? Machines that could recalibrate everything you throw at them? What about—’
“‘Shut up,’ Nakamura growled from within his cowl.
“But Rafik answered, ‘Those items lie beyond the Great Puzzle, and there are much greater things there than what you’ve just asked for.’
“Herev tried to lighten up the mood with ‘I don’t know what could possibly be better than a personal heat-seeking missile,’ but no one was in the mood.
“Rafik simply turned his head and looked at the mercenary, and Herev reacted the same way I did when faced with the boy’s stare; he stiffened up, as if expecting danger.
“Then Rafik spoke in a dreamlike voice: ‘Beyond the Great Puzzle lies all the knowledge and technology humanity has lost.’
“Nakamura stood motionless for enough time to make everyone feel uncomfortable, then he tapped his black staff on the floor twice and spoke.
“‘Get ready—we go tomorrow.’”
56
Vincha’s story was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. We got to our feet surprisingly quickly, considering the state we were all in. Weapons were drawn and aimed. My master nodded at me, and I walked slowly towards the door. I used my sight to see through the wood and identify one of the guards who helped save us in the Keenan guild house. By the look on his face I concluded he was not bringing happy news.
I unlocked the door, and he shouldered his way past me without saying a word. The man was a professional. To his credit, he didn’t flinch when confronted with the array of weaponry aimed at him. He turned and spoke over my shoulder to the direction of my LoreMaster.
“Word is out they’re looking for you—” he turned to Vincha “—and you—” then he pointed to me “—and you.”
“Me?” Vincha and I spoke in unison, but I continued, my voice cracked from fatigue. “LoreMaster, why are we hunted? I mean, why now?”
“We were compromised.” LoreMaster Harim’s voice was full of regret.
“By who?”
He sighed heavily. “By me.”
I waited. We all did.
“I was too smart for my own good, a foolish old man. My theory about what happened in City within the Mountain was developed after a meticulous look at all the evidence I had. Unfortunately, when I think about things—”
“—you write them down,” I said, finishing his sentence.
He smiled sadly. “A bad habit. Especially when my notes found their way to the City Council’s Chief of Security, who happens to be a Sabarra nomination. I had to explain myself to several people, and I may have overemphasised the possible rewards that could await us all, should we regain entrance to City within the Mountain.”
I imagined my LoreMaster standing in front of the security chief and his staff, and slowly an image of my role in this mess began to take form in front of my eyes. LoreMaster Harim had to tell his theory, and in return, the Council ordered him to send someone to investigate—but not himself, of course. They would insist on keeping LoreMaster Harim close, so he had to send someone else, someone far less qualified, someone who was just a few steps behind and would take a long time to investigate. This would draw the eyes and ears of the Council away from my LoreMaster and give him time to think of a way to outmanoeuvre the pack of wolves that surrounded him. That was the reason my LoreMaster did not hire a squad of competent ex-Salvationists to find a dangerous and elusive mercenary, and sent instead an inexperienced secondary scribe who read too many Salvo-novels. My LoreMaster’s actions were so logical I was surprised I felt so hurt.
As if reading my thoughts, LoreMaster Harim and I locked eyes in the gloom. He nodded ever so slightly, and I smiled bitterly back. How ironic that I had actually succeeded in finding Vincha and maki
ng her talk, and my success brought ruin to all of my LoreMaster’s work.
So why didn’t the Council just sit back and let me finish the job? I asked myself, and I realised the answer here was also obvious. Even in its weaker state today, the Council was not as unified as a layman would think. It was made of factions, several remaining guilds, and powerful individuals who pulled the strings and vied for more power. Access to the City within the Mountain and its secrets would give any faction in the City of Towers the victory it sought. Some would benefit from the success, others from the failure. Once they found out I had made contact with Vincha, it was a game of who could grab her first.
The guard still standing at the door was oblivious to the finer points of my inner conversation. He just said, “Too many people saw you land in the Pit. The metal offered for you is enough for them to talk.”
“How much?” Galinak grunted. We all glared at him as he shrugged. “What? I just want to know.”
The guard told us the sum, and I knew we’d better get out of that hut fast.
My LoreMaster sighed and turned to Vincha. “Well, my dear, we’d better complete your fascinating story somewhere safer.”
Vincha was too tired to argue, so it was Galinak who stretched and asked midyawn, “Where are we going now?”
“We’re going to connect another piece of this story.”
“And where is that, old man?”
LoreMaster Harim bent down with a grunt and tapped on the floor until he found what he was looking for, slid the cover aside, and exposed a black surfaced panel. From where I stood I could not see what LoreMaster Harim was doing, but a few heartbeats later a trapdoor by his side slid open silently. The smell that flowed up into the room made everyone grimace.
“Bukra’s balls.” Galinak covered his nose with his hand. “That smell could rust my cock.”
My LoreMaster was already tying cloth across his face. “If you do not have a breathing guard, I suggest you all do the same. I apologise for the inconvenience, but in order to get where we need to go, we must travel through the city’s sewers.”
57
Even climbing down a narrow shaft of the city’s sewage system reminded me how advanced and calculated the Tarkanians were. The shaft immediately lit up as soon as LoreMaster Harim lowered himself into it. The ladder was metal but it was surprisingly warm to the touch, pleasant to grasp, and even had a soft feel to it, as if it was molding itself to my hands and feet. In a way, this was as impressive to me as standing on the highest tower point of the city, but what even the Tarkanians could not have dealt with was the stench. We ended up walking in a straight line on a narrow pavement, near a slow-moving canal of liquidized waste. I looked at the brown sludge just inches away from my feet and knew for a fact that if I fell into it, I would not survive. The stench was almost too much to bear. It made me gag, and several times people had to vomit. Galinak had it especially bad; he was pale and wobbly on his feet.
By the time we moved into safer tunnels, my tunic, already stained from blood and muck, was soaked with sweat, I had an awful taste in my mouth, and all I wanted to do was to get under a stream of hot water with soap and then find a nice warm bed and dive under a clean blanket.
Vincha was the first to speak. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe,” I heard my LoreMaster say. His voice was weak. He must have been suffering far worse than me. “We need supplies and reinforcements.”
“And new clothes,” grunted Galinak. “This place stinks worse than a Lizard’s arse.” For once, I agreed with him.
Four more guards were waiting for us. They were dressed in full black battle suits, and I noticed that their weapons, albeit small, were in superb condition. My survival instinct was telling me something was seriously off. I glanced at the others to see if they felt the same, but they were too distraught and weakened from our walk in the sewers.
The Guild of Historians was much more than its mundane name suggested. You might imagine stuffy old men with long pipes and longer arguments, and you would not be far away from the truth. But these men also walked the scarred and dangerous land and collected evidence and artifacts of the destroyed civilisations. Once properly investigated and catalogued, a lot of these findings were eventually sold for surprisingly large sums of coin, mainly to avid collectors from the upper crust of society. Still, I wasn’t sure that retaining a company of fully equipped mercenaries who were ready to take on the rusting ShieldGuards was part of our budget. Who were these guys?
We reached a maintenance door leading up. Two guards climbed the ladder and we formed an orderly queue.
We found ourselves in the centre of a large room half filled with wooden crates. It was lit by a single artificial light that made the corners dark. I sensed that there were even more guards in the room. Was it a trap? I turned my head to Galinak and Vincha, but they seemed disoriented. There were at least two guards between each of us and more just beyond the circle of light.
I wanted to warn Galinak and Vincha, but by the time I thought of a way it was too late. A man walked slowly into the circle of light. My heart fluttered when I realised what I was seeing. Half of his face and one arm was metal. Despite knowing him only from reputation, it took me just a few heartbeats to recognise Jakov. As usual, Vincha was the quickest to react.
“Rust fucker.” She moved fast, but the large masked guard behind her was ready. He bear-hugged Vincha, lifting her off her feet. Even in his weakened condition, Galinak managed to send two guards to the floor before he was overwhelmed by sheer numbers and restrained in a submission hold. I found myself on my knees with a gun at my temple, as did the rest of the crew with the notable exception of my LoreMaster.
Jakov walked slowly to the still struggling Vincha. I knew the man’s description but seeing him walking past me sent shudders up my spine. The merchant bent close enough to almost touch Vincha’s lips with his metal face.
“So you are Vincha.” His voice was almost a whisper. “Many, many people are looking for you, my dear. Please tell me, I have no memory of ever crossing wires with you, so why do you harbour such resentment?”
“Go rust.” Her spit hit the metal side of his face.
“I do sometimes. There is an ointment for that. I rub it on myself every evening. You should try some.” His metal hand touched her head with what was almost a caress. Vincha visibly flinched. “It is good to finally meet you, Vincha. I believe you owe me a large sum of metal.”
My heart sank.
Jakov motioned to the guards to search us for weapons, which they did with efficiency. Galinak groaned as he was hauled up to his feet. “I would just like to say that I am not escorting this woman—”
“Her debt is taken care of.” Jakov cut Galinak off and turned to face my LoreMaster. “When this fine gentleman approached me with his interesting theory I agreed to come back to the city and help out with whatever I could. So I bought all her debts, paid her creditors, and whatever she owed, she now owes to me. Although—” he glanced briefly back at the struggling Vincha “—I would not go back to the Den if I were her.”
Jakov approached my LoreMaster. “So, Harim? Is your little theory correct?”
Of course, I saw now that LoreMaster Harim had to do it. The Council was too divisive and corrupt, so it was logical to turn to a weapons merchant for protection. The antigrav suits, the guards, the superb weaponry—it all made sense now.
I saw the LoreMaster nod. “I heard several new interesting details today”—I was probably the only one who detected the forced calmness in his voice—“but most of it was confirmation of what I’d figured out already. Now we must hear the end of the story. I want to find out what happened to Rafik and Nakamura’s crew.”
“Yes.” Jakov leaned against a crate, which my sight told me was filled with three power rifles and quite a bit of explosives. “Tell us what happened. How did you betray them and escape with your life? And then, depending on your story, I will decide.”
“De
cide what?” I said suddenly, surprising even myself.
I heard a soft, whirring noise as he cocked his metallic eye and focused at me. The gaze from his human eye was similarly cold and calculating. “Whether to let you live, of course.”
58
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“Are we going to get in through the gates that never open?”
“You’ll see.”
“Because they never open, you know.”
“I know.”
“And we’ll get there by going underground? Because that would be a clever way of doing this. Unless we stumble upon a nest of Lizards.”
“You’ll see—”
“—when we get there. Rust, why are you so secretive about it?”
Daeon did not bother to answer this time.
“More stairs. Rust. How many levels does this place have?”
“Too many, apparently.” Daeon turned and began descending the wide set of steps.
“Why are we taking the steps with all this gear? We passed at least three lifts, so . . .”
Daeon stopped and looked up at Vincha, who was still descending the previous set of stairs. “At the moment I am doing all of the carrying, so I don’t see why you should be complaining.”
It was true. Aside from the black power armour he was wearing and the vast array of weapons and power clips, Daeon was also carrying a backpack fully loaded with gear. Vincha, on the other hand, was not even allowed to carry a weapon, a fact she was struggling to cope with.