by Tim Waggoner
“Please forgive my friend,” Longstrider said. “He fancies himself something of an expert on human behavior. Especially humor.”
“Would you like to hear a joke?” Shatterfist asked. “I know hundreds.”
“Maybe later,” Lirra said. “You never did tell me how you came to be in my father’s command.”
“Lord Bergerron sent us,” Longstrider said, “as you doubtless have surmised by now.”
“We’re supposed to assist General Vaddon in whatever way we can,” Shatterfist added.
“While at the same time still serving your real master, Bergerron,” Lirra said. “I’d say you were nothing more than the warlord’s spies, sent to keep a close eye on my father, but I know you’re more than that. I saw you fight against Elidyr’s creatures. You were most impressive.”
Shatterfist did a passable imitation of a shrug, though he really wasn’t built for it. “It’s what we were made for. And of course we’ve been assigned to keep watch on your father. He’s aware of our dual purpose-although he does resent us for it. He doesn’t much like warforged, does he?”
“He’s never been completely comfortable with your kind,” Lirra admitted.
Now it was Longstrider’s turn to shrug. Given his lean body, the gesture seemed more natural on him. “Many breathers don’t like us. We’re used to it.”
“Breathers?” Lirra asked. “I’ve never heard that word before.”
“It’s a warforged word,” Shatterfist said. “One we sometimes use for your kind. It’s not very nice, though, and we’re careful not to say it around others.” He looked at Longstrider. “Although some of us are more careful than others.”
Longstrider ignored his companion’s jab and focused his attention on Lirra’s left arm. She still wore her “borrowed” robe, but though her symbiont remained concealed, she had no doubt that’s what had drawn Longstrider’s interest.
“Your symbiont fascinates us,” he said. “As does your people’s attitude toward you for hosting it. It is common for our kind to have variations in our basic design, Shatterfist and I being obvious examples of this. I am built for speed, he for brute strength. But our forms can be altered if we so choose-and if we can afford it. Many of our kind seek to acquire attachments that are in many ways similar to your symbiont, weapons or tools that we can use to perform various tasks.”
“It’s one of the reasons we work,” Shatterfist said. “That, and to afford basic maintenance on our bodies, much the same way your kind works to buy food and drink.”
“Your people do not view your symbiont as an enhancement,” Longstrider said. “Why is this?”
“Because it’s not merely a tool that can be wielded with ease,” Lirra said. “It’s a living being with a mind of its own, and it fights me for control of my body. Not only that, but its constant psychic presence threatens to contaminate my own mind, endangering my sanity.”
“Ah, I see!” Shatterfist said. “You’re defective. No wonder your people wished to capture and imprison you. I assume they will attempt to make repairs on you, but if that proves impossible, they will most likely keep you locked away.” He thought for a moment. “Unless they come to believe you’re a total loss and simply decide to destroy you.”
“You have an awfully bleak outlook for someone who’s supposed to possess a sense of humor, you know that?” Lirra said.
“I’m not certain I would label you defective,” Longstrider said. “After all, every weapon has its purpose. Some purposes are just easier to divine than others. I believe Lord Bergerron will be most interested to learn about you and your newfound abilities.” The construct leaned closer until his face nearly touched the bars, the crimson light in his overlarge eyes seeming to glow more intensely. “Most interested indeed.”
There was something disturbing in the warforged’s tone, and Lirra decided she’d talked to the constructs enough. She turned away from them, walked back to the wooden bunk, lay down, and closed her eyes. She’d changed her mind about getting some sleep. It wouldn’t be long before her father was ready to question her, and she’d prefer to be more rested when the time came for them to talk.
“Tell me if you’ve heard this one before,” Shatterfist said. “Two halflings walk into a temple, and the first halfing says to the other …”
Lirra groaned and jammed her fists against her ears. Maybe her father had posted the warforged outside her cell not merely to guard her but to torture her as well. If so, it was working.
Close to two hours passed before her father summoned her. He sent a soldier to inform the warforged that they were to bring Lirra to him, and Longstrider unlocked the cell door and stepped aside so that she could exit. Her tentacle whip urged her to flee, and she half seriously considered an escape attempt, but she knew she’d never be able to get away from the two warforged in these close quarters. Besides, she wanted to talk with her father. The warforged marched her down the narrow corridor of the garrison barracks to Rol Amark’s commandeered office.
“General Vaddon is waiting for you inside,” Longstrider said. He then took up a position on the left side of the door, while Shatterfist stood on the right.
So the warforged were going to stay outside during their talk. She wondered if her father was trying to reassure her with a show of trust. It was something she might’ve tried if their positions had been reversed. She opened the wooden door and stepped into the office.
Once inside, she understood the reason why the warforged hadn’t accompanied her. She’d forgotten that Rol Amark’s office was simply too small to accommodate them. Geirrid wasn’t exactly a thriving metropolis, and the garrison barracks, while serviceable, weren’t lavish by any means. The office was plain as field rations: four stones walls, no windows, an oak desk with a single stool in front of it. Vaddon sat behind the desk, while Ksana stood behind him. The stool, obviously, was meant for Lirra. She elected to stand.
Lirra noted that Ksana held her halberd, while Vaddon’s sword was drawn and laid out on the desk before him. His right hand rested on the table, in easy reach of his weapon. It hurt Lirra to see two of the people she loved most in the world prepared to defend themselves against her in case she decided to attack.
Vaddon must’ve noted the way her gaze took in their weapons, for he said, “Both Ksana and I apologize for bearing arms like this, but given the circumstances …” He trailed off, his eyes fixed on her left arm.
“No need to apologize,” Lirra said. “I understand.”
He nodded, clearly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat before speaking next. “Tell me about your association with the shifter.” His tone was unemotional, the general questioning a soldier under his command. But Lirra was Vaddon’s daughter, and she could hear the undercurrent of sadness in his voice, and she knew this was just as hard on him as it was her. She decided to follow his lead and respond to his question as unemotionally as she could.
“There’s not much to tell. I tried to track down Elidyr on my own last night and failed.” She chose to leave out the fact that she hadn’t been in her right mind while scouring the countryside searching for her uncle. She didn’t want her father worrying more about her sanity than he already was. “I hired Ranja to help me find him. We were on our way to buy supplies when Elidyr and his … creations attacked us.” She shrugged. “Guess I didn’t need to hire her after all.”
Vaddon frowned, clearly unhappy with the brevity of Lirra’s answers. “A number of farmers and their families went missing last night. What do you know about it?”
“Elidyr used them as raw material to fashion his monsters. At least, that’s what he told us before he ordered them to attack.”
Ksana interrupted. “What else did he you tell you?”
“He plans to reopen the portal to Xoriat and release the daelkyr lord that nearly came through last time. He believes by doing so he’ll be able to transform our world into a paradise-or at least his twisted version of it. He also asked me to join him. I refused. That’s when he
set his white-eyes on me.”
“White-eyes?” Ksana asked.
“Those monsters he made.”
Ksana said nothing more, and for several moments both she and Vaddon just looked at Lirra. She looked back and waited for them to make the next move.
After a time, Vaddon said, “Elidyr’s transformation drove him completely insane. How are we to know the same thing didn’t happen to you?” Despite himself, his concern for her came through in his voice.
Lirra wanted to reassure him, but she felt she owed him the truth. “Oh, I’m not as mad as Elidyr. I don’t think he could pretend to be sane if he wanted to. I don’t think he even knows what sane is anymore. But I believe I’m sane. The problem is convincing you that I am.”
Sadness crept into Vaddon’s gaze. “Whatever the state of your mind, you’re not the woman you were.” He nodded toward Lirra’s left arm.
“It’s true that I’ve changed,” she admitted. “It’s a constant struggle for me to maintain control of my symbiont. But I am in control.”
For the moment, the thought-voice said. Lirra ignored it and continued talking.
“Perhaps that’s so,” Vaddon said, a tinge of hope in his voice. “If it is, you’ll let us help you.”
Lirra didn’t like the sound of that. “Help me how?”
“By removing your symbiont,” Ksana said.
Lirra felt a surge of panic from the tentacle whip, and it began uncoiling from around her wrist, determined to defend itself. Vaddon reached for his sword, and Ksana moved her halberd into battle position.
Stop it! Lirra mentally shouted at the symbiont. You go wild now, they’ll be convinced I can’t control you, and they’ll remove you for certain! Calm down and let me play this my way, and there’s a chance you and I will walk out of this room still bonded together!
For an instant, she thought the tentacle whip was going to go ahead and attack anyway. But then it hesitated and slowly, reluctantly, coiled itself about her forearm once more and grew still. It remained on guard, however. If Vaddon and Ksana came to believe she couldn’t control the symbiont, they’d attempt to remove it from her by force-and that would be bad for everyone concerned.
“It’s all right,” Lirra said. “I’ve got it calmed down.”
Vaddon and Ksana looked at her, as if they were deciding whether or not to trust her. Finally, Ksana held her halberd at ease once more, and Vaddon removed his hand from his sword handle. Neither fully relaxed, though, and Lirra didn’t blame them.
“As you can see,” Lirra began, “the symbiont is a little touchy about any talk of our being separated.”
“But the longer we wait-” Ksana said.
“The harder it will be to separate us,” Lirra said. “I know.” While the initial bonding between symbiont and host occurred rapidly, true fusion took time. The more time passed, the more intertwined Lirra and the tentacle whip became, not just physically, but mentally and spiritually as well. Eventually, it would be almost impossible to separate them without both suffering severe, perhaps even fatal, trauma. “But I don’t want to be separated.”
“How can you say that?” Vaddon asked in disbelief. “Don’t you want to be free of the creature?”
“I’m being practical,” Lirra said. “The whole point of the symbiont project was to create a new kind of warrior, one who could control an aberration and make use of it as a weapon. I am that warrior, Father.”
“We thought Rhedyn was such a warrior,” Vaddon said, “but in the end he couldn’t resist the corrupting influence of his symbiont and betrayed us all.”
Lirra felt a hand of ice clench around her heart at the mention of Rhedyn’s name, but she pressed on. “Just because he lost his battle against corruption doesn’t mean I will lose mine. Besides, you need me, Father. Who among us is better equipped to face Elidyr than I am? He has to be stopped, and you both know it. The longer we talk, the more time he’ll have to repair the Overmantle and reopen the portal to Xoriat. We need to mount up and ride after him!”
“In your position, I’d probably feel the same way,” Vaddon admitted grudgingly. “But if you cannot fully control your symbiont, then you’re a potential danger to your allies as well as your enemies. Not to mention a danger to yourself. Surely you can see that.”
“Of course I do, Father. I also remember something the battlemasters at Rekkenmark taught us: ‘Courage is risk.’ Yes, there’s a chance I will lose control of my symbiont and become a danger to those around me. There’s also a chance that I’ll be able to use the abilities granted to me by my symbiont to help stop Uncle from unleashing a terrible evil upon our world. I have to try, Father. It’s my duty both as a soldier and as Elidyr’s niece. I don’t know if it’s possible to restore him to sanity, but I do know this: The man he was before the daelkyr touched him would be horrified by what he’s become, and he’d want us to do everything in our power to stop him. I intend to do that, Father, with or without your help.” She smiled gently. “But it would be a whole lot easier with you.”
Vaddon gave Lirra a long appraising look before turning and exchanging glances with Ksana. Then he turned back at Lirra and sighed.
“I never could win an argument with you, even when you were a child.”
Ksana spoke then. “You realize that if we go in search of Elidyr, enough time will pass that there’s a good chance you will become irrevocably bound to your symbiont.”
“I do. The risk is worth it to me. When I became a soldier, I took an oath to defend Karrnath and its people with my life. ‘We water the ground with our blood and our tears-for Karrnath.’ Mother and Hallam took that oath, and they sacrificed their lives to uphold it. How can I shame their memories by turning away from using a weapon that fate has placed in my hands?” She glanced down at her symbiont. “Literally, in my case.”
“Your mother and brother only lost their lives,” Vaddon said. “You might end up sacrificing your mind and your soul.”
Lirra shrugged. “It is a soldier’s lot in life to do that which is required of us. You taught me that, Father.”
“So I did.” Vaddon sighed once more. “Very well. You can accompany us in search of Elidyr, but you must remain in my company, or that of another member of the Outguard, at all times. Is this clear?”
“Are you going to give me a curfew as well?” Lirra asked.
Vaddon scowled, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “No joking. Do you agree to the terms or not?”
“I agree.” The restriction chafed a bit, but she understood the reason for it. Then a thought occurred to her. “You won’t be able to watch over me all the time, Father, so you might as well assign a baby-sitter to me. How about Osten? He’s a good man, and he understands what its like to host a symbiont. He’ll be less nervous around me than someone else.” And he would be more sympathetic to her as well, something she might be able to use to her advantage later, if need be.
Vaddon thought about it for a moment. “All right. So … how do we go about finding Elidyr?”
“I don’t know what you decided to do about Ranja,” Lirra said, “but she’s sensitive to the presence of symbionts and their hosts. That’s why I hired her to help me track down Elidyr. She might still be willing to do the job for us.”
“Oh, she’s willing,” Ksana said. “She made that very clear when we spoke to her.”
“And for a hefty price,” Vaddon added sourly. “A price that no doubt went up when she learned I was a general working for Lord Bergerron. Good thing the man has deep pockets.”
Lirra smiled inwardly. Trust Ranja to find a way to turn the situation to her advantage.
“I’ve had time to think since you … invited me to accompany you to the garrison barracks,” Lirra said. “Last night, I had no idea where Elidyr might go or what he might do. But now that he’s reunited with Sinnoch and they have the Overmantle, I can think of only one place they would go. Do you remember how Elidyr first encountered Sinnoch?”
“Elidyr found
the dolgaunt in a subterranean cave,” Vaddon said. “In the Nightwood.”
Lirra nodded. “I think that’s where they’ll go. They both know the place, it’s hidden, and it can be easily defended. Elidyr may be mad, but he’s not stupid. He’ll recognize the strategic value of Sinnoch’s cave.”
“Makes sense,” Vaddon said.
“The Nightwood is awfully big,” Ksana pointed out. “We could search for years and never come close to finding the dolgaunt’s cave.”
“That’s where Ranja comes in,” Lirra said. “And me. I’m able to sense the presence of aberrations-assuming I’m close enough. Between the two of us, we should be able to lead the Outguard right to Sinnoch’s hideaway.”
“The question is, can you do so in time?” Vaddon said. “If Elidyr activates the Overmantle before we can reach him …”
“I don’t know how badly the device was damaged, Father, but it will take Elidyr, Sinnoch, and Rhedyn some time to reach the cave, and then Elidyr will have to repair the Overmantle. I know he carries some of his artificer’s tools with him, but not all. The lack of proper equipment should slow him down some. I’d say we have a good chance of getting to the cave before he can reopen the portal to Xoriat-provided we get moving soon.”
“Very well.” Vaddon smiled. “I never did much like sitting around and talking when there’s work to be done.” He stood and sheathed his sword. “I’ll go inform the others. We’ll leave within a half hour. Lirra, remain here with Ksana until I can find Osten and inform him of his new duty as your … liason.”
Vaddon left the office without waiting for a reply from either woman.
“This is hard for him,” the cleric said when they were alone. “He wants nothing more than to see you free of the symbiont.”
“I know,” Lirra said softly. “And if I could see any other course of action, I’d take it. But Elidyr must be stopped, regardless of the cost to me personally … or the cost to my father. Besides, isn’t there a saying that the gods don’t give us burdens heavier than we can bear?”