by Jess Lebow
The pain grew, and Glissa flailed. Panic filled her from head to toe.
* * * * *
Visions flashed in front of her eyes in rapid succession, and Glissa temporarily left this world as a flare consumed her.
She saw her mother standing in a tree in the Tangle. Then she saw Slobad, tinkering with a leveler, his hands and face covered in grease. Bruenna, Al-Hayat, and Chunth the troll appeared to her then just as quickly slipped away.
Bosh edged all the other images from her mind. He stood before her, his hands bleeding. He looked sad. Instead of his stoic and immovable expression, his mouth was actually in a frown, and his eyes seemed sunken. He looked right at her. Behind him Glissa could see the interior of Mirrodin. The bright mana core was high overhead, and the tower Bosh had called Panopticon was in the near distance.
In the vision, the half-flesh, half-iron golem’s lips turned up, and he smiled at her, though his eyes remained sad. He turned and walked off, toward Panopticon.
* * * * *
Glissa felt the back of her head hit something, and she came out of the flare. She was moving at a tremendous clip now, and her fingers and toes were touching the edge of something. She was still under water, now surrounded on all sides by curved metal.
The rushing current carried her through a series of twists and turns. Each time the direction changed, her head hit the surrounding wall. The crashing impacts threatened to knock the air from her lungs, but she held tight, despite every urge to let go and just pass out.
She felt her feet skid along the bottom then slip free. Then she was falling through air. Her head broke from the swamp water, and reflexively she gasped in a breath. Flecks of the fetid swamp water sprinkled over her tongue, but she didn’t care. The air exhilarated her, forcing the panic away, and now she could feel the wild beating of her heart.
Dragging her hand across her face, Glissa opened her eyes in time to see a huge lake of swamp water coming up fast below her. Gasping, she gathered in one more precious breath before splashing again into darkness.
Down and down she sank. From what she could tell, she’d fallen a long way. Bubbling, frothing air accompanied her as she plunged. Slowing, the bubbles peeled off, one at a time, rising again toward the surface, and Glissa could feel herself come to a stop—the way she’d hoped she would when she had started into the swamp in the first place.
The air in her lungs buoyed her, and she rose. Her legs felt week from the cold water and lack of air, but she kicked with all the energy she had left. It seemed an eternity, stuck in the syrupy swamp water, then her head breached the surface, and once again she drew in breath.
The edge of the lake wasn’t far off, and Glissa swam to it, lifting herself gratefully from the water and resting her body on the firm metal ground. Lying there on her back, she breathed in huge gulps of air. There was water in her lungs, and as she sucked in, she could hear a thick rattling in her chest. She turned her head and coughed, trying to force out the liquid. Her hacking dislodged a big piece of flemmy gook, and she spit it out on the ground.
Rolling again to her back, she looked up to see how far she’d fallen.
High above, a series of intertwining grimy pipes covered the walls. They wound around each other, shooting off in all directions and crossing over to cover the ceiling, obscuring it from view. Black water and bits of refuse dripped from every pipe, but there was no doubt where Glissa had entered this room.
One of the pipes had a huge, gaping hole in the bottom. From it issued a heavy waterfall of putrid fluid. Beads of black liquid bursts apart, separating from the rest of the flood on the fall, finally coming down to splash into the underground lake that had caught Glissa on her plunge.
Pallid, yellow-green light filled the chamber. Glissa couldn’t see where it was coming from, but the room was bright. Slipping over onto her belly, the elf lifted her head. The lake took up most of the chamber. Around it, a metal shelf ran around the outside of the room just wide enough for three elves to stand side by side. The pipes that ran all the way up the walls and across the ceiling jutted from the ground on the outside of this walkway.
To her left, behind a space between two of these pipes, was what looked like a tunnel leading out. Beside it sat Bosh. His partially rusted body blended flawlessly with the tubes, making him nearly disappear into the background.
“Bo—” Glissa’s voice was raw, and there was swamp water in her throat. Burping and spitting out as much of the foul fluid as she could, the elf coughed out her words. “Bosh. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he said. He pointed to the waterfall above. “I fell.”
“Me too,” she said. Getting to her feet, she traversed the walkway over to the iron golem.
“I know,” he said. “I watched you.” He continued to sit on the floor as Glissa approached.
She looked him over, and he looked back, but he didn’t move. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
The golem nodded. “Yes, but I feel weak. I would like to rest for a moment.”
Glissa nodded and sat down beside him. “What do you think this place is?”
Bosh shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been here before.”
“Well, wherever it is, it’s deep under the swamp.” She breathed. Her lungs still rattled a bit, but she was improving. “It’s a good thing there was a hole in that pipe. Who knows where it leads, and I don’t think I could have made it much longer without any air.”
“There was not a hole there,” said Bosh. “I got stuck going around a corner and smashed it open.”
“Then you saved both of our lives.”
Bosh looked down at her then back up at the waterfall. “Yes.”
Just then a large piece of debris plummeted from the ceiling. Glissa watched it fall, tracking its course toward the underground lake. It was round and wrinkly, and it toppled end over end. It sprouted arms and began to flail.
Glissa jumped to her feet. “Slobad!”
The goblin didn’t hear her. His eyes were so wide that Glissa could see his pupils from where she was standing.
The elf turned toward the golem. “We should do something.”
Bosh began to get to his feet. “What?”
Glissa shrugged and turned back in time to watch the goblin hit the lake with a loud slap. “Fish him out. He’ll drown!” She circled around the narrow walkway closer to where he landed.
Round waves moved out from where Slobad had impacted the underground lake. The swamp water moved slowly, dampening the splash because it was so thick and dense. Glissa watched the center of the waves, waiting for Slobad’s head to pop up, reassure her that he didn’t get crushed when he landed, or drowned shortly there after.
“Where is he?” she said, nervously scanning the water.
Bosh clomped up behind her. “I do not see him.”
A chunk of something surfaced near the impact point.
“There,” pointed Glissa. “Is that him? We’ve got to get him out.”
Bosh leaned over, trying to get a closer look. “I do not think so. It’s too small.”
“Too small? He’s a goblin.”
Bosh shrugged. “If that is him, it is only his head.”
Glissa scowled at the golem, but he paid her no mind.
Near the center of the lake, bubbles started to rise and breach the surface. They were small at first, but they grew in size and frequency. Pretty soon the lake seemed as if it were going to boil, starting with the very middle and moving out slowly to the edges.
Glissa took a step back from the lake. “I don’t think that’s Slobad.”
“Nor I,” replied Bosh.
Both the elf and the golem flattened themselves against the wall. Then Glissa spotted something at the far end.
“Look,” she shouted.
“That is him,” confirmed Bosh.
The two took off at a run.
Slobad had surfaced on the other side of the rising storm of bubbles and was swimming toward the farthest edge
of the lake, on the opposite side. His little arms didn’t carry him very fast, and the burbling dome threatened to overtake him in only a few strokes.
Glissa bunched her fists as she ran. Whipping around the end of the lake, she and Bosh closed in on their friend. Slobad reached the edge, and grabbed hold of the walkway. Behind him, the bubbles peaked then stopped altogether as swamp water shot into the air.
A column of tarnished metal rose from the lake. Putrid, black water streamed from its sides, clinging to every crease and seam, uselessly trying to pull back into the depths something that could not be contained.
The metal monstrosity climbed into the air, nearly four times the height of Bosh. It looked like the trunk of a tree or the mycosynth on the interior of Mirrodin—only this thing was pitch black, and completely cylindrical. Then it opened up in front, seeming to uncross hundreds of folded arms—each one a razor-sharp blade.
“A giant centipede.” Glissa whispered out the words, fearing that saying them any louder would make the creature more menacingly real than it already was.
As it unfolded, the creature’s face and head came into view. On top, long, thick antennae sprouted, twitching this way and that. Under those, two beady, pulsing red eyes scanned the room. It had no nose or mouth to speak of, at least not on its face.
With the grinding sound of metal on metal, the centipede scissored its arms closed then back open, like a zipper. Undulating from the top to the bottom, a wave raced down the creature’s body. With each passing curve, hundreds of blades slid closed then open again, ready to cut to shreds anything that came close.
The creature swung its head around, two beady little eyes scanning the chamber. When they crossed over Slobad, Bosh, and Glissa, the centipede reeled back. Then it came flying forward, its scissor arms moving at double speed.
“Grab Slobad,” shouted Glissa, bolting for the goblin.
Bosh beat her to him. At a full run, the golem reached his huge hand down into the muck. Scooping a handful of water from the lake, he ran on at top speed. Black swamp muck drained from his palm, leaving Slobad in a heap against the golem’s closed fingers.
Seeing that Bosh had the goblin, Glissa skidded to a halt. The centipede’s head was high in the air, but it came down on the trio in a blink. Backpedaling, the elf fell away, letting Bosh and Slobad go off in one direction while she turned and ran in the other.
The centipede’s head whipped down, slamming into the edge of the lake—right where Slobad had been only moments before. The impact shook the chamber, and Glissa was thrown to the ground. Looking back, she could see the centipede’s head buried deep in the dented walkway. On the other side were Bosh and Slobad. They had escaped, but they were separated from her by the monstrous bug.
That would be a fitting way to die for a goblin, thought Glissa as she scrambled to get away from the centipede.
Once again on her feet, she shouted over her shoulder. “Run to the passage. I’ll meet you there.”
If there was a reply, she didn’t hear it, because the centipede pulled its head out, bending the complaining metal of the walkway as it did. The motion filled the entire chamber with a wretched squealing that vibrated down Glissa’s spine and rattled the metal on her legs and forearms.
Freed from the dented walkway, the centipede reeled back again, shaking its head side to side. It looked at Glissa then at Bosh and finally turned its attentions back on the elf.
Glissa’s lungs were starting to hurt again. She could feel the water she’d inhaled on the way down the tube. With every breath it felt as if someone were stabbing a sharp fingernail into her chest. Worse, she could feel a bit of liquid floating around in there, bubbling away with each inhale.
With a quick flick of its long body, part of which was still concealed under the black water, the centipede closed in on Glissa. Tilting its head, it coiled the top of its chest, like a snake about to strike.
Glissa watched it do this, and her heart skipped a beat. It was so big. She didn’t see how it could miss her.
Watching the monster instead of the walkway, Glissa tripped and went sprawling onto her face. The room got darker as the monster’s shadow grew around her. Rolling over onto her back, the elf looked up at the scissoring blades as they came crashing down on top of her.
The centipede was huge and so very fast. The creature’s razor sharp arms opened wide, and Glissa closed her eyes, not wanting to watch them as they tore into her flesh. Metal screeched. A whoosh of air rushed through the elf’s hair, followed by a shower of foul smelling swamp water that stung her face.
Glissa opened her eyes. She was still alive. The centipede’s opened arms had crashed into the walkway, burying themselves up to the elbow. The floor had kept the blades from scissoring closed around her, but now the bulk of the creature’s body was on top of her, squeezing her life away.
The centipede’s great bulk threatened to pop Glissa like a grape. Her chest was restricted, and her arms were pinned to the ground. She couldn’t breathe, except in quick short breaths, and she could feel all the blood in her body being pressed into her head.
The giant bug twisted and pulled, shaking the platform as it did. Metal complained, and its arms lifted a few centimeters. Relief flooded through the elf’s body. She took in a deeper breath, and the pressure in her head subsided. Then that relief gave way to the reality of her situation. The centipede was struggling. It was only a matter of time before the blades were free, and then they would close—catching her in between.
Taking stock, she looked for a way out. To her left, a hundred killing blades waited for her, barring her escape. To her right, more of the same. She tried to lift her sword, but it was too long, and she couldn’t get it into a useful position, and even if she could, what good would it do against such a creature?
The floor heaved again, and the centipede lifted another six inches, releasing her enough to pull her arms to her chest. Still, she was trapped. One more good heave by the centipede and its scissoring arms would be free of the platform, ready to cut her into little bite-sized chunks.
A rhythmic tinkling sound, like a set of wind chimes, rang through the confined space between the centipede’s chest and the floor. Shards of metal cascaded over Glissa, and a huge hand reached in and grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Time to go,” said Bosh.
Though part of him was becoming fleshy, his feet were still metal, and he’d kicked through two dozen of the centipede’s razor-sharp arms.
“I couldn’t agree more,” replied Glissa. With Bosh’s help she pushed the ground, sliding out from under the big bug.
Free of her prison, Glissa got to her feet and ran, Bosh right beside her. Behind them, Glissa could hear the walkway complain as the centipede heaved again. Metal shrieked, and the creature let out a high-pitched squeal. The elf didn’t know what it meant, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t good.
Up ahead, Slobad was waiting in the opening between the pipes, but he was distracted by something. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, and he was wringing his hands. Glissa followed his gaze.
“Oh, no.”
There, seemingly stuck in the hole Bosh had punched through the pipe on the ceiling, hung Al-Hayat. His back legs were tangled up. His front paws flailed, and his whole body swung. With each swing, the wolf lifted his head to bite at something near his tangled back feet. Back and forth he went, and Glissa watched, unable to do anything for her friend.
Al-Hayat caught whatever it was that he’d been trying to reach, and the wolf slipped free, plunging toward the underground lake.
“Bosh!” shouted Glissa over her shoulder. “We’ve got to keep the centipede busy long enough for Al-Hayat to get out of the lake.”
“How?”
She stopped running and turned to face the golem. “We keep its attention focused on us.”
Over Bosh’s shoulder, Glissa could see that the centipede had retreated a bit. It followed her and the golem with its beady eyes, but it hadn’t given immediate
chase. Perhaps Bosh’s attack had been more damaging than it appeared. Glissa could clearly see the blank spot on the creature’s left side where it was now missing several of its limbs. Still, in the grand scheme, the damaged blades were only a tiny fraction of the centipede’s legs. It still had hundreds, if not thousands more.
Its attention wholly on the elf and the golem, the big bug clearly hadn’t seen the falling wolf, and this gave Glissa a small amount of confidence.
“Hey, bug face,” she shouted, waving her hands over her head. “We’re over here. A tasty meal, just the way you like it.”
Bosh stopped beside her and turned. “Do you really think it is a good idea to taunt such a creature?”
“It’s not chasing us.”
The centipede stared at her, unmoving—no, it was moving. Now that she looked at it again, Glissa realized that the creature was rising higher from the water. Its head rose farther into the air, and its body just kept coming and coming—no end in sight.
“No wonder its not chasing us. It doesn’t have to,” she said, gripping the hilt of her sword tight in her hand. “It can reach us from anywhere.”
As if the centipede heard the elf’s words, it reared its head back and flung itself at the pair.
“Jump,” shouted the elf.
Both she and the golem leaped into the lake. Glissa’s head dropped below the surface, and she could feel the dull thud of the centipede’s head impacting the walkway.
Blindly she swam back toward the edge of the lake, staying underwater the whole way. The trick was going to be surfacing without coming up underneath the bug’s scissoring arms. There was very little more she could do other than guess. When her hand reached the edge, she slid two full arm lengths to her right then poked the tip of her sword from the water. It hit nothing, and she lifted her head.
She had guessed right.
The creature had impacted the walkway just to her left. Its giant head lay in the indentation its smashing attack had made, and it struggled again to free itself.
Tossing her sword up onto the shore, Glissa took the opportunity to pull herself from the water. It was a struggle. She was tired now, and even breathing seemed like a tremendous effort. Finally, she got out and onto her feet. Picking up her sword, she scooted along the wall, keeping her back to the pipes. The centipede, so busy pulling its head out, didn’t immediately notice her, and she rested against the wall, scanning the water for Al-Hayat.