by Andy Remic
"You have such a way with words, my man." Now, with his pack somewhat lighter, Saark drew his rapier and ran a finger along the blade. He re-sheathed the weapon. "Let's get going. Before I change my mind."
"You can always head back. Woo those vampire killers with your charm."
"What, and have them bite me, turn me into one of them? That would be insane!"
"Yes," said Kell, eyes glinting, "we wouldn't want that, lad, would we? Then I'd have to cut your head off!" He gave a low rumble of laughter, and slapped Saark on the back.
As they moved to the entrance, and Kell stooped to enter, Ilanna before him, Nienna touched his arm. "Grandfather?"
"Yes, monkey?"
She smiled at that. "I'm scared," she said.
"Don't be. I'll protect you."
"I know you will. But… I'm still scared."
Kell turned, and righted himself. He lifted Ilanna, looked at her curious matt black butterfly blades – so unlike any other weapon he had seen. She was older than the mountains, so the legend went. And indestructible. He kissed the blades, then bent down, and kissed Nienna on one cheek. "Just stick close to me, little lady. Don't be frightened of the dark. Kell walks beside you."
Nienna nodded, eyes full of tears. Her adventure was not quite what she'd expected. Not when so much blood and death was involved. Not when good women like Katrina had to give their life for nothing; for the honour of thieves and murderers. She sighed. And followed Kell into the gloom.
The Valentrio Caves were dark for perhaps a hundred metres, and then the floor seemed to shine with a very pale, sickly light. The darkness closed in fast, with claustrophobia in one fist, and haunting echoes in the other. Within minutes Saark had closed the distance from his rear guard, and was almost treading on Nienna's heels.
"Kell," he hissed, after perhaps ten minutes where they followed a level, winding passage.
"What?" said the old warrior.
"The light. On the floor. By Dake's Balls, what is it?"
Kell grinned, face a skull in the pale, ethereal glow. "Slime. From the worms. They must secrete it. Or something."
Saark's face fell. He looked ill. "Shit," he said. "I wish I'd never asked."
"Don't worry," soothed Kell, seeing Nienna's face from the corner of his eye. "This tunnel system is vast; it stretches for hundreds of miles under the mountains, vertically as well as horizontally. You can travel here for weeks and never see a worm. The leski are primitive, they have no understanding. They just eat and breed."
"Sounds a bit like us sophisticated humans," muttered Saark.
"Come on. Let's get moving. We have a long way to go."
They walked, boots making odd sounds on the sticky, luminescent ground. Saark realised, unconsciously, that he had his rapier drawn. He cursed himself, and sheathed the weapon, frowning. At least his rising fear and claustrophobia were good for one thing; they were taking his mind off the sweet, cloying smell of Nienna's blood, distracting him from the everpresent rhythmic thumping of her heart. He shook his head. What are you becoming, Saark? he asked himself, and didn't like to consider the answer.
They moved for hours, and sometimes the glowing floor would end and they would ease through deepest gloom, guided by mineral veins in the rock and marble walls. Sometimes, the corridors would narrow as Kell predicted, so that both Saark and Kell had great difficulty squeezing through and only Nienna was able to pass with ease. Occasionally, they came to areas where huge boulders had dropped, crushing part of the tunnel and making it near impossible to pass. Several times they had to squeeze beneath a chunk of mountain that, if it shifted, would crush them like an ant beneath a boot. At one point the crushed section was extended, and Saark found himself on his back, scrambling along with limbs scratched and dust falling in his eyes and his panting coming in short, sharp bursts. Panic was an old friend clutching his heart, and he was coughing and choking and pushing up at the immeasurably huge rock above and wondering if he was going to die until Kell's rough hands grasped his scruff, and hauled him the rest of the way under the obstacle.
Saark sat there, choking, covered in grey dust and looking pathetic. He wiped his sweating, dirt-streaked face, and glanced up at Kell. "Thanks, old boy."
Kell gave a single nod, and stood, stretching his back. "It's going to get more enclosed ahead."
"Just what I need," said Saark.
"I'm just warning you."
"Well, don't! I'd rather have a sour, nasty, bad surprise."
Again, they picked up the trail of glowing passageways, this time rising steeply until the tunnel emerged onto a small platform overlooking a cavern. As they approached, they could see the slime-glow increase in intensity, and this warned the group; they moved slow, hunkering down as they broached the rise. The small platform was just wide enough for the three of them; and what they saw left them crouched in stunned silence.
Below, in what appeared to be a naturally carved cavern, a massive affair strewn with stalactites and stalagmites, there were pods; corrugated, white, each pod about the size of a horse and divided into six or seven bubbled segments. They lay, motionless, not glowing but pale white, almost luminescent. And there were hundreds of them. Thousands. Littering the cavern, many of them packed in tight, crammed together.
"What," said Saark, with a completely straight face, his voice low and carefully neutral, "are those?"
"I don't know," said Kell.
"But you said you've been here before!"
"Yes, but I've never seen those before!"
"Are they, you know, something to do with the worms? Maybe they hatch, or something? Like eggs?"
"Possibly," said Kell, giving a small shiver. If they hatched, the group would be immediately overrun.
"Look," said Nienna, pointing. Kell lowered her finger.
"I can see it, girl."
They were pulsating. As if they were breathing.
"What now?" whispered Saark.
"I reckon we could go down there and cut one open," said Kell. "Then we'd know exactly what was inside. Exactly what we're dealing with."
"What?" snapped Saark. "Are you out of your mind, you crazy old fool? You might set them all off, then we'd be fucked for sure. And here's another thought – if they are eggs, then what in the name of the Grey Blood Wolf laid them?"
Kell nodded. "I suggest we circumvent."
"I would second that," agreed Saark.
They moved to the right, still watching the thousands of pulsating, segmented cocoons, or eggs, or whatever the organic objects were. They looked dangerous, and that was enough for the party.
Taking a right-hand tunnel, Kell led the way once more, wary now, Ilanna in his great fists. He was more alert, eyes straining to see ahead, ears listening for sounds of any approaching enemy. He wouldn't let Saark or Nienna speak now, and they travelled in morbid silence, ears pricked, nerves suspended on a razor wire.
The tunnel wound on, ever upwards, crossing many more in a complex maze. Kell chose openings with a sure knowledge, and Saark made a mental note not to get lost down here. The Valentrio Caves were a maze like nothing he had ever witnessed.
Eventually, the low-ceilinged corridor ended in a small chamber. It glowed. There were eight of the slowly pulsating, slowly breathing pods blocking their path.
Kell halted, and held up his fist. Saark and Nienna froze, peering past him. The chamber, floor lined with sand, was small. The pods filled it entirely, leaving nothing but narrow passages between each throbbing slick body of luminescent white. Nienna shivered.
"I don't want to sound like a pussy," whispered Saark, "but is there another way around these… these blobs?"
"It'll be all right," said Kell. "I'll lead. Nienna, stay close behind. Saark, bring up the rear."
"Why do I always have to go at the back?" he whined. "What if one of the quivering little bastards wakes up and jumps on me?"
"Well," smiled Kell, "it won't be the first time you've taken it from behind."
"You are a j
ester, Kell. You truly should be capering like an idiot in the King's Court."
"Can't do that," growled Kell. "The king is dead."
They moved into the narrow spaces between the segmented bodies. Each cocoon was tall, as tall as a man, and most at least as long as a horse, high in the centre and then tapering down in staggered segments towards the tips, which seemed to glow, changing suddenly from pale white fish-flesh to jet black, and then back.
Saark shivered. Kell moved with his jaw tight. Nienna desperately wanted to hold somebody's hand, for she could feel the fear in the air, smell the metallic scent of these pulsing cocoons. Kell brushed against one, and for a moment the pulsating ceased. In response, Kell, Saark and Nienna froze, staring in horror at the huge bulbous thing.
"You woke it!" mouthed Saark, urgently, face screwed into horror.
Kell gripped Ilanna tighter, but after a few moments the regular rhythm of the creature resumed. The group seemed to breathe again. They crept past, six, seven, eight of the cocoons, and then Kell stepped out into the opposite tunnel and breathed deeply, shoulders relaxing. Nienna stepped out behind him, and Saark turned to stare back at the corrugated pods. "Well thank the bloody gods for that!" he grinned, as his rapier swung with him, tip at knee level, and the point of his decorative scabbard cut a neat horizontal line across the nearest pod's fleshy surface. There came a hiss, a bulge, then a thick tumbling spill of white splashing out like snakes in milk. A scream rent the air, so high-pitched the group slammed hands over ears and grimaced, then ran down the tunnel as the scream followed, perfectly in rhythm with the pulsing of the thing's body.
"You horse dick!" raged Kell. "What did you do that for?"
"I didn't do it on purpose, did I? Can I help it if their skin is as flimsy as a farm maiden's silk panties? I barely touched the damn thing!"
"Come on," said Nienna, pale from the screaming, and she led them on a fast pace up a steep corridor. Suddenly Kell lurched forward, grabbing Nienna and bundling all three into a side-tunnel. They stood, in the gloom, and watched the albino soldiers pounding past. Kell counted them. There were fifty of the very same black-clad albino warriors who'd invaded Falanor. "So, this is where they hide," whispered Kell, face grim.
"I am assuming," said Saark, in a quiet, affable voice, "that this place wasn't crawling with either egg-pods, nor albino soldiers, the last time you came through?"
"It was twenty years ago," snapped Kell. "I've slept since then."
"And got drunk many times," responded Saark, voice cool, eyes shaded in the gloom. "You've brought us into a hornet's nest, old friend. How many albino soldiers are here?"
"Let's find out," said Kell.
They moved back up the tunnel, which rose yet again on a steep incline that burned calves and sent shivers through straining thighs. They travelled for an hour, and three times more they came across squads of albino warriors wearing black armour and carrying narrow black longswords. And several times they passed along the lips of vast caverns, each full of pulsating segments, glowing, quivering cocoons. The third time they did so, Saark called for a stop. Down below, they saw several albino soldiers moving through the chamber, and one stopped, resting a hand on a quivering flesh segment.
"They're changing colour," said Saark.
"Eh, lad?" said Kell.
"The pods. They're no longer translucent. Now they are a deep white. Like snow. Look."
Kell peered. He shrugged. "So what?"
"And their pulsing is slower," said Nienna.
"So what?"
"You're an irascible old goat," snapped Saark. "The point is, each chamber seems to be some kind of birthing pit. That's my opinion. And these things are looked after by the albinos."
"Why would they do that?"
"Maybe they like to hatch worms," said Saark. "Maybe they are building a worm army!"
"That isn't even funny," said Nienna, eyes wide.
"Who said I was joking?"
"Shut up," said Kell. "Look. Something is happening."
They watched. A hundred soldiers marched into the cavern, and arranged themselves around a circle of five pods. A tall albino warrior stepped forward, and drawing a short silver dagger, he cautiously inserted it into the nearest pod and, with intricate care, cut a long curve downwards. Flesh bulged, and was followed by a flood of white which sluiced across the stone floor. There followed a tumble of cords, like thin white tree roots, and then there was a shape nestled amongst the mess, amidst the thick strands and gooey white fluid. It slopped, spread-eagled to the floor, and several of the soldiers stepped forward and…
"Holy Mother," said Saark, mouth open.
"So this is where the bastards emerge," growled Kell.
"What are they?" whispered Nienna, stunned by what she saw.
The soldiers wrapped the newly born, nearly-adult albino soldier, naked, flesh white and pure, scalp bald and glistening with milk, limbs shaking and unable to stand without support, in a blanket. The man was like a newborn foal, weak and quivering. The surrounding soldiers led the blanket-trussed newborn down a corridor in almost reverent silence.
"They're hatching," said Saark, without humour. "The human maggots are hatching."
"They're not fucking human," snarled Kell.
"Well," continued Saark, in the same cool, level voice, detached and not quite believing as he tried to comprehend the magnitude of what he was witnessing, "what actually are they, then?"
"They're the enemy," said Kell, "here for us to kill."
"An interesting viewpoint," came the smooth, neutral voice of the albino warrior. He stood, and behind him were thirty soldiers. All had bows bent, arrows aimed at the three peering intruders. "They are, in fact, our alshina larvae. As you so quite rightly put it, young man, we are not human. This is where we are hatched – eggs laid, implanted, and hatched by our queen." He drew a short black sword, and used it to point. "Ironic, that you refer to us as the albino. That would be your arrogance speaking. To think we are simply humans without pigmentation. Man, we are a different species."
He turned, then, and surveyed the bent bows of his warriors. Several smiled.
"What do you want?" growled Kell, and slowly stood. He flexed his shoulders, and his face was thun der. Saark stood next, and he placed a warning hand on Kell's shoulder.
"Look," said Saark. "They have Widowmakers."
The dandy was right; some of the warriors carried the same weapon that Myriam and her little band had used back in Falanor; the same weapon which had taken Katrina's life.
"If you know what these Widowmakers are," said the leader, smoothly, with no hint of fear or panic, "then you obviously know what they can do. I suggest you drop your weapons. My soldiers have been primed to kill the girl first."
"Why, you bastards," frowned Kell, stepping forward. The Widowmakers lifted in response to his antagonism. They were surrounded, heavily outnumbered, and even the mighty Kell could not fight with thirty arrows in his chest.
"We have to do it," urged Saark, and was the first one to lay down his rapier. Nienna, wide-eyed, fearful, threw down her own sword and reluctantly Kell knelt and placed Ilanna reverently on the rocky ground.
"Take care of her, lads. I'll be wanting her back real soon. And if there's a single mark on her, I'll be cracking some skulls."
"Fine words," smiled the leader, but then the smile fell like plague rain. "Restrain them."
They had hands tied tightly before them, Kell grumbling and growling all the time, facing out into the great hatching chamber where yet more newborns were eased from their larvae pods and into the cool air of the chamber; into the real world. Like insects, thought Kell with a shudder. They are hatched like insects.
He was spun round by surprisingly strong hands, and a huge white-skinned soldier smiled at him, crimson eyes fixed on his, hand on the hilt of his short black sword. "You'll be cracking skulls will you, Fat Man?" he hissed.
Kell's head snapped forward, delivering a terrific head-butt that dropped the al
bino warrior in a second, and had him crawling around in circles, blinded.
"There's the first one," growled Kell. "Any more fools want to try me out for size?"
The leader pressed a razor dagger to Nienna's throat. He still retained his air of calm, of clarity, as he stared down at his disabled soldier who – even as he watched, died on the floor. His skull was indeed cracked. Broken, like a raw egg.
"Anything else, Kell, anything at all, and I'll cut her up. A piece at a time."
"You've made your point, lad," said Kell, showing no surprise that the leader knew his name. "Just as I have made mine. So tell me – what happens next in this vile and acid-stinking albino piss-hole? You got any more surprises for us?"
"Just one," said the leader, words soft as he caressed Nienna's trembling throat with his blade. "Somebody wants to meet you."