City of Wonders

by James A. Moore

  After that he headed up the stairs.

  Durhallem told him which way to go and he obeyed.

  The view was not remarkable.

  A woman in a white gown stood in the small room and shuddered; her body twitched and danced as if she were poisoned and dying of fits.

  Her arm was lost in the wood of the Mother-Vine and Tusk understood all he needed to know in that moment. This was the god he was meant to slay. The vine and the woman were one, at least at this time. He felt vibrations moving through the ground beneath his feet and knew that his time was limited.

  Durhallem spoke to him, made clear that the God-Vine was attacking, would kill his people if he did not strike.

  When he spoke, it was not with his tongue. Durhallem said, “We end this now. You die as you should have so long ago.”

  The woman looked toward him. Her eyes were the same color green as the Mother-Vine’s most perfect foliage. There had been a time when he was younger that Durhallem had awarded him with an obsidian blade. The sword he’d made with it had killed many foes and had even helped him kill a Mound Crawler in his youth. It was that blade he used to hack the woman apart. His first blow cut her arm away from the rest of her body. The rest of his strikes severed her head, her arms, her legs, and her torso.

  Each cut was directed by Durhallem.

  Tuskandru was the Chosen of the Forge of Durhallem and King in Obsidian. He was the instrument of his god’s fury.

  Durhallem was called the Wounder because of his lack of mercy.

  Tusk was a perfect instrument.

  * * *

  Cullen felt the earth shake again and her smile fell away. This was not the same. This was so very different. The ground shook and seized and the great roots of the Mother-Vine tore free of the earth and shredded themselves in the process. Those roots had rested in the same spot for centuries, since before the fall of Korwa, since before the Cataclysm.

  The mountains were constant. The rivers were eternal. The Mother-Vine was immortal.

  And then, suddenly, the Mother-Vine was dead.

  There could be no denying what she saw. The roots split as they came from the earth and pulled down structures and smaller trees alike. The other trees, the Sentinels, might well have fallen down, too, had they not been so deeply rooted themselves.

  Above Cullen the trees screamed as the Mother-Vine that had fed them and provided, always provided, died. The great trunk blackened and rivers of sap flowed from the areas where the grayskins had cut her before.

  The Mother-Vine died before her eyes.

  Cullen watched it all with unseeing eyes. She stared at the impossible and her mind refused to accept it. A tree fell to her left and would have crushed her had it not rebounded off another tree instead.

  The great storm clouds grew darker as the sun set and still Cullen did not move.

  In the darkness of a night too impossible to believe, Cullen heard the sounds of the guards within Orrander’s Tower screaming as they died. When the gateway was opened it was not the guards who came out, but the grayskins. A hundred of them spilled out, likely the very ones she had earlier seen scaling the sides of the tower.

  She should have helped her people.

  She should have tried to save them.

  Instead Cullen had merely watched as her god died and her people followed suit.

  She was still watching when the grayskins dragged barrels of oil from the tower’s supplies to the base of the Mother-Vine. The fire did not take long to light.

  She was still watching when the Mother burned.

  She was not certain if she would ever move again.

  SEVEN

  When the sound came it was worse than Tega had ever imagined possible. Above, in the ruins of the Mounds, the roaring note was enough to nearly deafen and to shake her teeth in their sockets. Here, deep within the endless night of whatever it was they were exploring, all possible thought was blown from her by the noise. It was everywhere and pervasive, a deep note that made her body feel like water and her bones like twigs resting under a boulder. She closed her eyes for fear that if she left them open her eyes would leak out of her skull.

  How long did the note sound? There was simply no way to know for certain. There was no reference beyond the overpowering vibration.

  When the noise faded away she knew it mostly because her insides no longer trembled. Her ears felt packed with mud and no sound seemed capable of reaching her.

  The ledge they were walking along did not seem to notice the noise at all, for which she was very grateful. They’d traveled for… hours? A day? A week? Certainly for some time now, and while they were making progress toward the great light source below, it was still far enough away that they could not make out exactly what it was they were descending toward.

  Still, the more they moved, the more certain Tega grew that this was, indeed, the remains of Korwa. There were structures here. Not merely occasional formations, but actual structures. They were broken, they were burnt, they were fused with the sand and the endless columns of glass and other items, but there were structures. Even if it was not Korwa, something vast had been here once and the specters of the people were still suspended in prisons of melted sand.

  From time to time she saw one of the dead in their half-hidden, shadowy tombs and could almost believe that the frozen, ruined things were looking back at her, their eyes following as she moved along.

  Desh Krohan had long since taught her the importance of a rational mind; still, the skin along her neck crawled when she looked at the frozen dead.

  Not far ahead of her Vonders Orly was muttering and shaking his head. She suspected he was still in awe. He and his kind had long been treasure seekers and now, when there were treasures aplenty, he had little time to dig for them. Among the numerous dead there seemed an endless supply of gems and gold locked forever in the pillars of glass.

  When the hand grabbed her shoulder Tega did not flinch. She had been trained better than that. Instead she focused her attention and prepared to unleash a defense if she needed to.

  Nolan March was yelling. She could tell by the way his mouth contorted, the cords in his neck standing out, and she was able to make out what he said, but just barely. “Be careful! You’re too close to the edge!”

  Tega started. The man was right. She’d been looking at the columns, at the frozen dead, and had let herself get distracted.

  Nolan gestured for her to move further from the edge and called for the others as well.

  It was only then that she understood how dazed she was by the sound. It was like a physical beating. Her ears were ringing constantly, and her body ached.

  Nolan gestured for all of them to sit and sorted through his bag until he found dried fruit for all of them to chew. The food was sweet and stuck to her teeth, but the act of eating seemed to help: her ears popped and her hearing was at least partially restored.

  Tolpen worked his jaw a few times and seemed satisfied with whatever he was managing in the process. When he spoke it was too loud, but that was better than hearing nothing.

  “This is madness. We’ve been traveling for… well, it’s got to be more than a day, and I don’t feel like we’re getting anywhere.”

  “What else is there for it?” Nolan frowned. “We’ve orders and we need to follow through with them. Whatever is down there might be the only way to stop the Sa’ba Taalor.”

  “It might also be a brilliant way to get ourselves killed.” Vonders spoke while using a small knife to worry at something stuck in the wall. Whatever it was shone with a dull metal glow in the dim light from below.

  Tolpen sighed. “Same could be said of overburdening yourself with every shiny lump you find, and yet you keep going.”

  Vonders shrugged and then sighed when the lump popped free from the wall. “Whatever it is, it’s gold. I’ll take that when I can find it.” He found a pocket in his cloak and hid his new nugget away.

  “We have to continue on,” Tega said as clearly as she
could through the ringing in her head. “We have to find out what is down there and report back to Desh and the Empress, because that is what we’ve been told to do. If there’s a chance we can find out what it is that so worries the Sa’ba Taalor, it’ll be worth what we’ve been through.”

  She hoped that was true. There were deaths on her conscience. Three men were dead as a result of the expedition that she was in charge of.

  “Even if we find the information, how will we get it to them?” Vonders eyed her warily. “Will you use your magic to contact them?”

  There had been a few incidents with her sorcery. She would admit that easily; the result was that the men with her were understandably cautious about her attempting anything.

  “I’ve communicated with Desh several times already. It’s not a difficult thing and, well, speaking with him from a distance doesn’t risk–”

  “Causing anything to die a horrible, violent death?” Nolan’s voice held an edge and also taunted. He was doing his best to deal with what had happened, but she knew well enough that he wasn't fond of sorcery. He’d made that point clear a few times already.

  “Just so.” She nodded her head.

  “In any event, I think we are almost there,” Nolan continued. “Another day and we’ll find our way to the bottom of this chasm. Or at least we’ll be close enough to know what it is we are looking at.”

  Tega thought she saw something from the corner of her eye and looked out toward the darkness beyond the ledge.

  There was nothing to see but darkness and the dim light from below. She could almost make out the far side of the pit if she strained, but the illumination wasn't quite strong enough.

  “You always talk like you’re in charge here, Nolan. You’re not. You know that don’t you?” Vonders spoke without any actual rancor, a smirk on his lips as he scrutinized another spot on the wall.

  Nolan shook his head. “I never said I was. I’m just reminding you that we’re here because the Empress and her advisors demanded it.”

  “Oh, I know, I just like giving you–”

  Vonders stopped speaking and turned his head quickly, eyeing the darkness.

  “Did you hear anything?”

  Tolpen shook his head. “I can barely hear you blabbering on.”

  Tega still looked into the darkness. Something flitted past too fast to see clearly and she shook her head and raised one hand. “There’s something moving out there.”

  “Certainly we’re in an area where bats could be, I suppose.” Vonders frowned as he spoke. “Don’t know what time of day it is. If the sun’s setting I would expect bats to leave from a cave this deep.”

  “There’re no bats here,” Nolan said. “If there were, we’d have seen them by now or at least heard them.”

  When the dirt and rocks fell from above they all caught the motion this time. It wasn't an avalanche, only a scattering of debris, but it was real, and they all saw it.

  “Gods, what if this place collapses?” Vonders stood quickly, his little carving knife clenched in his hand like a sword.

  Tega made herself stand up, and Nolan and Tolpen followed suit. Tolpen took the time to lock a bolt into his crossbow. He was, without a doubt, the best of them with a ranged weapon, but a standard bow would be of no use in the area where they stood.

  A heavier collection of dirt and pebbles cascaded past them, and Vonders wandered closer to the ledge, looking up.

  “Damn me!” He jumped back quickly and something roared as it moved toward them.

  “Shoot it! Shoot it, Tolpen!”

  “Shoot what? Get out of the way!”

  Vonders backed toward them and Nolan had to step out of his way or risk getting knocked off his feet.

  Tolpen raised his crossbow and sighted properly, but there was nothing to see.

  Until the moment that there was. Whatever the thing might be it was immense, and it had a mouth full of teeth that looked like they should be used as the blades of swords.

  The first thing they saw was a hand-like paw complete with several heavy claws. Tega stared at those thin fingers for a second and shook her head because they made no sense whatsoever. To be sure the claws looked impressive enough with their long hooked ends, but they were really rather on the small side. When the second hand showed up she frowned. It was a perfect duplicate of the first. Not a mirror, not a left mate to go with the right hand, but a perfect duplicate.

  When the third showed up – this one missing a finger and a half in an old wound that had long since healed – she shook her head and started to ask if the others were seeing the same thing. The rattling of the great noise earlier might have shaken a few of her senses loose.

  Then the head came into view. It was a massive thing, easily as long as her wagon had been, with barbs thrusting away from a scaly mouth filled with teeth of preposterous size.

  After the teeth she didn’t pay much attention to any other details, except that those teeth were bared and the mouth was making hungry noises.

  Nothing that large should have been able to move at that speed. The entire head moved as fast as a freshly launched arrow and narrowly missed eating Vonders. The only reason the man lived was because Nolan hauled him backward as he retreated himself. Vonders, like Tega herself, was staring with wide eyes at the impossible sight.

  Tolpen’s crossbow bolt bounced off the side of the thing’s face and sailed into the darkness beyond.

  Nolan cursed and pulled his axe free. The motion was small, but enough to catch the beast’s attention. More of the immense thing crept into the resting area and Tega and Vonders retreated while Tolpen pulled a curved blade from his hip. He moved the opposite direction to Nolan and the head of the thing swayed left and right, looking at both of them as best it could. It had the eyes of a predator – two enormous eyes to match the rest of the head – but Tega couldn’t actually tell if it could see with those eyes or if it was, in fact, blind and was somehow registering their movements with another sense. The eyes had no color at all. They were as dead white as the rest of the thing.

  A hideous rattling noise came from the throat of the beast as it slithered forward. There were more hands, far too many, and those hands sought out places to grip the stone as it moved more of its bulk onto their ledge.

  Nolan ran hard at the thing, screaming, and it whipped its head toward him, opening that impossible maw. He brought down his axe with all of his body in the swing and roared as he chopped. The blade nearly bounced. For a second Tega thought it would surely be knocked aside as easily as the crossbow bolt had been, but the scaly hide bent a bit and then the skin broke and blood welled out of the wound.

  Nolan danced back as the thing flinched and then shrieked. The noise seemed too loud to be real and too high-pitched for a brute that size. Spittle painted Nolan’s face and torso and his hair whipped back from his face. He moved as fast as he could manage and then blocked with his axe when the mouth came for him. The second axe blow had little effect save to stop him from being eaten alive.

  Tolpen’s blade slashed across the neck of the thing and it let out another shriek as it was wounded.

  Rather than retreat, however, the damned thing continued to spill onto their ledge from above.

  Mound Crawler. She understood that intellectually, but Tega never expected to see one in reality. The arms of the thing were like the legs of a centipede. There were so many of them that they didn’t make sense. The body was semiserpentine. It had a backbone that moved too easily for any mammal she had ever seen and it had folds of loose, scaled hide that reminded her of several different species of lizard – but it was built the wrong way, like everything in the Blasted Lands seemed to be malformed.

  Tolpen swept his sword around a second time and backed away as the thing came for him. More of it landed on the ledge, and Tega genuinely feared that the ledge would collapse under them if it kept coming.

  Nolan brought his axe down on one of the arms and severed it completely. The limb flopped to the dirt
and the Mound Crawler let out another shriek and swept several of the arms on that side toward him.

  Nolan backed up and hissed as one of the claws ripped into the meat of his thigh.

  Tolpen cut at the oversized face again, drawing blood.

  And then the Mound Crawler lunged toward him and bit his arm and his head and his torso in one massive bite. The sound of those teeth coming together was a noise Tega would never forget. Tolpen never had a chance to scream. He surely died instantly. The sword in his hand punched through the roof of the demon’s mouth and through the nasal passage and it shook its head back and forth in an effort to escape the pain.

  The first thrash of its head slapped the rest of Tolpen off the side of the ledge and spilled him toward the lights they had been seeking.

  Nolan let out a shriek of his own and swung the axe again and again, hacking into the neck of the monster. Each blow opened a wound, but each wound seemed so damnably small. The thing kept coming and seemed like it would never stop.

  Vonders stood next to Tega and looked at the Crawler, unable to draw his eyes from it. He did not move. He barely seemed to breathe.

  Tega pushed at him. “Help Nolan!” her voice sounded too high, too tight in her throat.

  Vonders nodded and moved forward, his hand still clutching his digging knife.

  “Use your sword, man!”

  Nolan was bleeding freely from his leg. He didn’t seem to notice. His hands held to his axe and he brought it around in a hard arc, swinging once more with his entire body. The blow would surely have killed a man but the Mound Crawler merely flinched and kept moving onto the ledge, an endless run of arm-legs carrying the impossible shape. Each ended in a hand that seemed so small in comparison to the body. Had they not been close to death, Tega might have laughed. She felt an edge of mad giddiness trying to start her giggling. She refused to let that madness have her, and instead focused on trying to summon her power without blowing the whole lot of them into bloody mist.