Scars of Mirrodin: The Quest for Karn

by Robert Wintermute

  Venser was up and to the entrance of the shelter in an instant. He met the girl as she virtually exploded out of the right side of the lean-to. One of the largest smiles Venser had ever seen was spread across her face. She stopped and held up her arms. The dark blotches were gone. The place where the phyresis had corrupted her flesh was nothing more than a pink patch.

  Venser shook his head.

  From behind, Venser felt Koth shove him out of the way. “What is all this now?”

  When the vulshok saw the girl’s arms, he drew back as though she were infected worse than before. “What madness is this?”

  Venser went into the small shelter. Even in the low light, he could see Elspeth staring down at the fleshling, who was lying on her stomach, with her cheek resting on her forearm. Elspeth looked up at him as he entered. The expression on the white warrior’s face was impossible for Venser to read: a combination of absolute wonder and shock.

  “What just happened?” Venser said.

  “I’m still not completely sure,” Elspeth whispered, her eyes still on the fleshling. Venser looked too. She was lying with her head turned. Her blue eyes were wet, and she regarded them calmly from the ground.

  “She began to glow,” Elspeth said.

  “Glow?”

  “The girl was telling us about her parents dying, and the flesh Mirran began to glow from her eyes.”

  “The fleshling?” Venser said. He felt strange calling the woman ‘the fleshling’ but he would have felt stranger calling her Melira, for some reason.

  “This human woman,” Elspeth said, gesturing to the fleshling, “began to glow from the eyes. Her eyes filled the room with light. It was bright for a time and then the girl screamed.”

  “And the little girl was healed?”

  “The phyresis disappeared. Before our eyes.”

  “It can’t be,” Venser said. Nobody had ever been able to cure phyresis, and many great healers had tried, and on many different planes. It was the most virulent contagion known to any plane anywhere, and it was spreading. If it was true, then the fleshling could stop the spread. And suddenly Venser began to understand why Tezzeret had insisted that they take the fleshling with them. He understood Tezzeret calling her ‘a gift.’

  But he doubted very much that she was able to cure when he gave her to them. And Elspeth had mentioned her eyes glowing. Hadn’t her eyes started glowing after their last teleport? Then it struck him. The blinkmoths. It must have been the blinkmoths that imparted in her the capacity to share her natural ability with others. He did not know that for sure, but it stood to reason.

  Later that day, there was a line outside the small shelter. Every person in the settlement with the beginnings of phyresis was queued and waiting patiently, and some not so patiently. Some of the vulshok were shifting their weight from leg to leg and exhaling in exasperation.

  Koth stood next to the tent, keeping a close eye on all that entered, lest one be an agent for the Phyrexians. To his general amazement, many of the people waiting in line smiled at him. Some even congratulated him on his return to Mirrodin. It was quite a different reception than he had gotten even hours before.

  “They saw you and Elspeth leading the fleshling into camp,” Venser said to Koth’s bewildered expression. “You are the reason they are being cured.”

  Ezuri appeared early the next morning, though he showed no taint of phyresis. He stood in front of the shelter smiling beatifically, as though the cure was facilitated by him and him alone.

  Venser stayed near the entrance of the shelter. He had quickly come to understand that the fleshling’s cure had its drawbacks, especially to the fleshling.

  It had happened the first time by accident. But every time after took tremendous amounts of concentration on her part. She was recuperating from the injury on her back, and yet spent all her waking hours focusing most of her energies on curing every stranger that walked in the door.

  Ezuri had been the first to suggest that they find a way to bottle the fleshling’s cure. Venser was sure that the elf wanted a bottle for himself from which he could dispense doses at will. For the right price, of course.

  Ezuri could not figure out a way to bottle the cure, and the fleshling, Venser knew, would never have consented even if he had.

  “She will heal any who come to her,” Venser had said to Ezuri. The elf had not liked it, as Venser knew he wouldn’t, but what could he do?

  The fleshling healed all who came to her, and ended her days exhausted.

  The line’s end was in sight when Ezuri walked to where Venser stood, almost knocking over a sylvok who did not move out of his way fast enough.

  “Well,” Ezuri said. “The new day has turned out to be a good day.”

  “Yes,” Venser agreed.

  “Will you stay here with us?”

  “No,” Venser said. “We will continue our search.”

  But Ezuri’s eyes were not on Venser as he spoke. They had strayed to the darkened entrance of the shelter, and the fleshling within. “And that amazing creature? Will she stay?”

  “She will be healed soon, Elspeth tells me. She can decide if she wants to join our search or stay here.”

  Ezuri looked shocked. “You would take her on this mad quest to find some golem?”

  “Yes,” Venser said simply. How could he explain to the elf the importance of Karn? Why would he want to?

  “It’s strange,” Venser continued. “But I don’t recall telling you he was a golem.”

  Ezuri smiled. “I have heard the name of Karn the silver golem. Who has not?”

  “Almost nobody on Mirrodin knows this name,” Venser said. “Have you maybe seen Karn, or heard a rumor about him?”

  “I may have heard what one of my scouts reported to me,” Ezuri said.

  “Yes?”

  “They heard a being aligned with the Phyrexians say, ‘the golem cannot be trusted.’ ”

  “ ‘The golem cannot be trusted’?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who said these words?”

  “I have no way of knowing that. My scouts were slain shortly thereafter.”

  “What magic allows you to hear what your scouts hear?”

  Ezuri smiled. “That is for me to know.”

  The golem cannot be trusted, Venser thought. Interesting.

  “So,” Ezuri said. “It is settled. The flesh being will stay while you go on this fool’s errand.” The elf turned to walk away.

  “Wait,” Venser said. “It is settled that the fleshling will decide to stay or come.”

  “Just so,” Ezuri said. “I misspoke.”

  Venser looked back to the entrance of the shelter. Inside a loxodon sat quietly waiting for the fleshling to wake. As Venser waited, his mind went back to what the elf had said. The golem cannot be trusted, he thought. That is good, he decided.

  Some days later Ezuri called a settlement meeting. Venser and the others arrived and sat cross-legged on the hard, hot metal floor. At the center stood Ezuri, cleaning the bits out from under his fingernails with the tip of a slim, curved dagger.

  The fleshling was sitting next to Elspeth. With Elspeth’s ministrations, the flesh of the incision site had grown back together and she was able to sit without pain. But she lacked certain organs, the white warrior had told Venser. Those could not be healed back into place. Venser found himself wondering what the Phyrexians had done with the organs they took out of the fleshling. Then he remembered the room of organs they had encountered on their trip toward the center. The small Phyrexians who had assayed them.

  He thought of the carnage, of the pointless butchery, of the mountains of rotting meat and organs. Would he really go back into that?

  No, it would be different the next time. If he could get a guide from the settlement, someone who knew the doors and passages, then maybe they could make a more direct route. But would Ezuri allow such a thing? Venser doubted it unless there was some arrangement that benefited him in some way.

  He would
see soon enough. Ezuri raised his hands and the chattering of the small crowd died away. The elf smiled his widest smile.

  “We have here good water, and the news from the front has almost always been good.”

  There was a general grumble from the crowd.

  Venser almost chuckled himself at the joke. Oh, he thought suddenly. He was being serious.

  Ezuri’s smile widened more. “Yet, we have never received quite so good-a-news as that which limped into camp five days ago. Her name is Melira and many of you have visited her and received her special ministrations. She was brought here by one of our own, Koth, son of Kamath, who has returned to Mirrodin to help us all.”

  The grumbles from the crowd turned to excited chattering. Ezuri raised his hands, palms down.

  “But now our guests have decided to leave us,” Ezuri continued.

  Have they, Venser thought. Nobody had discussed leaving with Ezuri.

  Elspeth leaned in. “It seems our welcome has worn thin.”

  But before Venser could respond, Ezuri was again talking, as he seemed almost always to be doing.

  “But on the part of the settlement,” the elf said, “I would like to extend an invitation to Melira. Please stay with us. We have a good life here, as life is going on Mirrodin at present. You can help others outside the settlement with your gift.”

  The fleshling looked around, bewildered at all the eyes on her. Venser remembered that she barely slept at night, and when she did she woke up screaming. She and Elspeth spent hours talking in hushed tones. He prepared himself to speak, but Koth stood up first.

  “Yes,” Koth said. “We hope she stays to help all of Mirrodin. With her, we may yet have hope of driving the infestation away.”

  The crowd was silent. There were no hisses, but neither were there any excited whispers.

  But Ezuri spoke again. “Where do you travel now, companions?”

  Koth opened his mouth, but Venser spoke first. “We travel to the center of Mirrodin. To find the one who can perhaps drive the scourge from your home.”

  A chorus of gasps went around the crowd.

  Ezuri shook his head.

  “It will be dangerous and deadly,” Venser said. “The path, as you know, is hard and fraught with enemies.” He glanced at Elspeth, who nodded. “But we have the white warrior to lead our way.”

  The crowd whispered excitedly.

  “Yet still,” Venser yelled. “We need a guide who knows the secret ways.”

  “Will the vulshok travel with you?” a member of the crowd yelled.

  Venser turned to Koth, who stood.

  “I think we should fight the Phyrexians on the surface,” Koth said. “We can drive them away by force.”

  Many in the crowd clapped at Koth’s comment. A vulshok stood and pointed at Koth. “You are welcome here. We need people we can depend on.”

  Ezuri raised his hands. “I think we all want to know what Melira has decided,” Ezuri said.

  All eyes turned to the fleshling. She stood stiffly and addressed the crowd. “I will go to the center of Mirrodin.”

  More whispering, and then Ezuri spoke again. “Unfortunately, we are not planning to attack the surface at present, vulshok. You may either stay with us or travel with your companions.”

  “I will stay with my people,” Koth said, raising his fist high.

  A small cheer went up.

  Ezuri smiled as he turned to Venser. “And it is our hope that you all do not travel to the deep bowel-ways under our feet. You hold blame for the Phyrexians on the surface right now. Who knows what you may disturb next.”

  Very nice, Venser thought. A nice bit of deflection. His policy of fighting the enemy on the surface is failing—but it is not his fault, it’s ours. This one will go far in positions of leadership.

  But Venser did not have time to dwell on Ezuri’s machinations. A scream echoed from the right, followed by a chorus of growling cries. Venser turned in time to see a line of very large Phyrexians with clubs for appendages charging into the camp, swinging their pendulous arms and knocking rebels aside as they came. Between and behind them stood line upon line of other Phyrexians, each line larger than the one that preceded it. They were the kind with shiny chrome parts. Tezzeret, Venser thought. They were being attacked by the same kind of Phyrexians that Tezzeret kept around him.

  And they were fast. Venser ducked a club before teleporting away. He materialized outside of the lean- to that held the fleshling. Elspeth had her sword out and was preparing to attack, when he snapped out of the thin air. She glanced at him and then back at the hoard of Phyrexians who had not noticed them yet. The rebel camp was in full retreat. As they ran, the Phyrexians knocked them down and trampled over them.

  “I see no end of them,” Elspeth said.

  “The numbers are not in our favor,” Venser said. “We must move to better placement.”

  Elspeth said nothing.

  “We must move for the fleshling,” Venser said, sensing Elspeth’s hesitancy to do anything like retreat.

  Koth staggered out of the melee and made his way toward them. A Phyrexian noticed his departure and followed. But Koth turned and lunged forward to take hold of the thing’s rib cage and gave a sudden heave just as he heated the creature’s metal. The front of the Phyrexian’s rib cage came off. Koth took it and beat the thing around the head with it until it fell down and did not get up. Koth spit at it and stomped up to Elspeth. “Time to go, my lady,” he said. “You should go now.”

  “You will really stay?”

  “Yes,” Koth said. “I have been somewhat welcomed again. I will seize the opportunity.”

  “Your reunion may be short lived,” Venser said. “They are making quick work of your insurgency.”

  Koth said nothing.

  “Ahhh, look what we have here.”

  They turned to see Ezuri with a small band of rebels.

  “Here he is now,” Ezuri said. “The one that led the meat puppets to us.”

  Koth turned to look at Venser. “He did nothing of the sort,” Koth said. “His loyalty to Mirrodin …”

  “Silence, traitor,” Ezuri hissed. “I speak of you. You, who led the Phyrexians to us.”

  “What?” Koth said.

  “You are a traitor and a coward,” Ezuri said.

  Koth turned redder than he was already. “You can call me a traitor, elf. You can call me a killer of innocent men and women. But you may never call me a coward!” Koth leaped at Ezuri, who stepped to the side and hit Koth squarely in the side of the head with the shaft of his bow as he passed. The blow was meant to sting and Koth was up in a moment.

  “See,” Ezuri said. “He aims to kill me even now.”

  The other Mirrans in Ezuri’s group glared at Koth.

  “You are banished from us,” Ezuri said. “Let none acknowledge you, for we have a war to fight and no time for those such as you.”

  The squad of Mirrans turned their backs on Koth. Ezuri sneered before turning his back.

  “Come, Koth,” Venser said. “Let us be off while the Phyrexians are busy.”

  Koth looked from the rebels to Venser. His face was a clash of emotions. Venser felt quite bad for him.

  “Now is the time,” Elspeth said, her eyes on the Phyrexians who were starting to look around from the dead Mirrans they were hunched over.

  Koth nodded dumbly.

  They walked along the wall until the last sounds of the battle dimmed behind them. Koth said nothing. The fleshling was able to walk by herself with the aid of a staff. Elspeth led. Suddenly she drew her sword and held it forward. A shape stepped out of the pipes along the shadowy wall—a humanoid with a hood over his head and face.

  “I will guide you,” the shape said. “You said you wanted a guide.”

  “Your people have all been slaughtered,” Elspeth stammered. “Why do you offer this?” It was a good question, Venser thought.

  “You will need a guide if you venture to those depths. That is Glissa’s domai
n, and Geth descends from his perch at the Vault very commonly. The creatures there are very fell indeed.”

  Venser was not familiar with the names, but the form in the shadow spoke with force and honesty. Venser trusted his voice.

  “Who are those names?”

  “Glissa was an elf. Geth is undead but not a vampire. Now they are leaders of this invasion and exist below the surface. They are holding your golem.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Venser said. “How do you know of Karn, the silver golem?”

  “I was scouting the deepest areas even before the surface invasion.”

  “Yet the invasion took you all by surprise. Didn’t you tell anybody about what you saw?”

  “I did.”

  The implication of that shocked even Venser. “And still your leaders did not act?”

  The figure in the shadows said nothing for a moment. “This invasion has given opportunities to certain people. Old leaders died in the onslaught. Certain other leaders who had formerly been commanders of squads gained position by simply being alive.”

  “And now where are they?” Elspeth said.

  “Leading, of course. Preserving their skin.”

  “I think we understand each other,” Venser said.

  “You seem to know much,” Elspeth said.

  Indeed, Venser thought. He knows more than any they have encountered so far. He knows more than he should. The others could have been lying, of course. It is possible that many others know of this Glissa and Geth holding Karn. Have those others remained mute for reasons of their own? On the other hand, a guide suddenly appears offering to take them to exactly where they want to go. He gives them information they have never heard before, and asks them to follow him into the deepest regions of Mirrodin. Everything about this being standing in the shadows set the hairs on Venser’s arm standing.

  “Danger,” Elspeth was saying, “does not scare us.”

  Koth, standing back a bit, adjusted his stance.

  Venser cut in, “How do you feel about Phyrexia?” It was a strange question, Venser knew. And the shadow sensed the trap immediately. Venser could tell by the care he took in choosing his words.

  “I will die stopping this infestation.”

  “That’s not exactly an answer to the question,” Venser said. “More a statement of fact.” Venser knew he was being nitpicky and small, but he wanted to be certain that they were not being led by a Phyrexian agent or, worse, by one of Ezuri’s people.