Scars of Mirrodin: The Quest for Karn
Page 24
Elspeth came to stand with Venser. “Do we have a plan?” Elspeth said to Venser. “Your face betrays that we do not.”
“I have no plan. We’re trapped in this room with Karn,” Venser said, then to the fleshling, “But what if Karn had a new heart?”
“If the heart was uninfected then he would be healed.” Karn had her by her jerkin. The silver golem was listening to the thunder of his minion’s feet with a smile twisting his large face.
“Is my heart infected?” Venser said.
“No, none of us is near that stage,” the fleshling said. She tugged against Karn’s huge fist. He turned his gaze and stared intently at the skin on her neck.
Venser nodded. But I have other things wrong with me, he thought.
“Once the contagion reaches the heart it is too late,” the fleshling said. “Nothing has reached our hearts.”
Elspeth sighed. “Surely there is another way,” she said.
“What would that way be?” Venser said. “Take somebody else’s heart? Who? You?”
“Not you,” Elspeth said.
The fleshling was looking from one to the other of them. “How would you do what you speak of?” she said.
Karn let go of the fleshling. The black oil droplets had disappeared, and his eyes were once again open and not slit. He sat down on the ground and watched the argument calmly.
Venser closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Yes, he could do it, he thought. He had built up just enough mana over the last hour to do such a tiny jump and teleport his heart into Karn’s chest. But just enough, and he would have, obviously, just one chance.
“Lie down, Karn,” Venser said.
Karn leaned back and eased himself to the shiny floor.
“Let us consider other possibilities,” Elspeth said. “There are always other options.”
Venser laid a hand on Elspeth’s armored shoulder. “This is what must happen. You know that. I know it. In fact, I think I always knew it would happen this way. My life is almost done as it is. What runs its way through my body will not release me from its grasp. I’ve known since you and Koth came to my studio and brought me here. The moment I saw the first Phyrexian I knew Karn would be at the heart of this in some way. I had my fears that he would succumb to the black oil. This is something I have been thinking about—resigning myself to the possibility that I would maybe have to make this sacrifice. Imagine other planes with others people. I imagine that child in the bogs in Urborg, searching for his father. He had a chance, as must others in our time. You know as I do that the Phyrexians will take this place and move to another. They must be stopped. Here sits the one who, maybe more than any other, can stop their spread. And he is my friend. I will not let him fall like a dog to this sickness. You cannot ask me to let that happen.”
Elspeth looked over at Karn. “I see the oil droplets on him again,” she said. “You had better hurry.”
Venser closed his eyes and turned to Karn. A second later the artificer’s body crumpled to the floor. Released by his limp arm, Venser’s dented helmet went rolling along the floor lopsidedly before clanking to a stop against Karn’s metal leg. The silver golem’s body gave a violent jolt and lay still.
Elspeth’s hand fell to the pommel of her blade. She looked down at the fleshling, who was watching the golem’s motionless body on the floor. Behind, in the dimness somewhere, Koth tried to stand, but slumped back to the ground with a clatter.
Elspeth drew her sword. She held its crookedness out before her and let her eye travel down its notched edge. It was no wonder the blade was notched, with all the hacking of metal that had commenced. Hopefully there would not be a golem that begged hacking. She had her doubts as to whether she could match Karn, but she was not going to let him walk from the room with the black oil septic in his body. She had seen too much of Phyrexia to allow that.
If her sword broke on Karn, then she would stave in his face with her fist. If her fist broke upon him, then she would use her teeth. If her teeth were not up to the task, then the devils of Zarnic take him!
Karn’s eyes snapped open.
Elspeth squared her shoulders and stepped forward. “If this starts to go badly,” Elspeth said to the fleshling, “waste no time fleeing this room. Make for the settlement if you can. Do not waste time thinking to help me. This is the best place for me. Your people will need leading, and you are the person to do this.”
The fleshling looked over at the huge door. There was a howl and the knocking of hundreds of metal feet on metal, and a group of Phyrexians surged into the door.
Karn rolled over and stood. The silver golem loomed taller than Elspeth. He looked down at her with dilated, metallic irises. The Phyrexians pushed through the door, wheezing.
“Venser, the artificer, has given you his heart,” Elspeth sang out loudly. “What will you do with it, golem?” If Elspeth was nervous in the least, the fleshling did not hear it in her voice, which had a tone as though she was challenging an opponent to a tourney joust.
Karn put his arms out wide. Electric jags licked from arm to arm. “My dreams have been grim of late,” he said. “My memories are as flashes of lightning. I dreamed of a throne that clung to my spine, of black blood in my eye, of the plane wrought by my hand pried from me by a tin-toy empire.”
Elspeth turned to look behind. More Phyrexians had pushed their stinking way into the doorway. Hundreds stood hunched and dripping at the end of the room. She thought for a moment that she saw Glissa, but a moment later it was just another elf Phyrexian.
Karn’s eye fell on the Phyrexians as well. “These dreams anger me,” he said. He brought his arms down and the charge arcing between his fists branched out, traveling the distance of the room and striking one Phyrexian before jumping to all the others. They lit brightly for a moment before falling to the floor, smoking.
Karn looked back down at Elspeth and the fleshling, then down at Venser’s dented helmet which lay next to his great foot. “And I grieve greatly that my friend Venser is no more.”
Elspeth pointed the tip of her blade at Venser’s body. “There is his body,” she said. “What will you do with it?”
Karn looked from Venser’s helmet to his body. “He will be wed with fire and made free. I will take him with me when I leave.”
“Where will you go?” Elspeth said.
“I have traveled the planar byways spreading sickness. Now I must clean what I have dirtied. This is what must happen.”
Karn started walking toward the doorway. His every step made the floor jiggle. More Phyrexians were collecting around the doorway, behind the piles of their dead comrades. Lightning crackled down Karn’s bicep and jumped to one of their heads and branched. In a moment all of the Phyrexians lay smoking next to the others.
Karn stopped and turned. “I will collect Venser’s body later when I have cleaned as much of this vermin as I can find.” Karn sighed.
Elspeth glanced over at the golem and then back to Venser’s body. “Don’t wait too long, it’s warm down here. You will not enjoy your trip with him if you wait too long.”
But Karn had already turned his back. He stepped through the Phyrexian bodies and around some huge juggernauts bunched and smoking on the other side of the door.
“You will never be able to clear Mirrodin of Phyrexians,” Elspeth said.
“I will kill as many as I may,” Karn said as he walked. “But you are right. I will not be able to kill them all, I fear. You must all do your part.”
“I will lead my people against the Phyrexians,” the fleshling said. “There were Mirrans in the settlement we visited, but we should find more hiding.”
Koth was quiet where he had propped himself against the wall.
“We will find all who wish to stand for their homes and fight this enemy,” the fleshling said.
“Good and evil, there is never one without the other,” Karn said. He stopped and gazed around the darkened corridor. “I forged this place when I was young. Bird and beast and f
lower were worrisome to me then. So I made this place where death was but a coincidence.”
“Now it is a place of death, old machine,” Koth said. He struggled to his feet and spat on the floor. “But the fleshling and I will clear this and all of Mirrodin of the scourge.”
Elspeth could feel the heat radiating off of Koth. As she watched, slits of cherry red split his sides. His eyes began to take on the same rosy hue.
Karn continued speaking. “All has passed like rain on the fields, like wind in the mountain tops. My days seem gone with the sun at its set. But not yet! I have too much to put right.” He walked faster, so the companions had to scramble to keep up.
“Are we ready for battle?” Karn said, striding even faster. “I have slept too long. Mirrodin has carried my pride and also my guilt. You all have fought my battles. Now, friends, we shall show these beasts of meat and metal the true nature of their Father of Machines.”
“We will make this right,” Koth said. He stood next to Venser’s dented helmet. But the others had left, and his words went unheard in the gathering darkness.
ROBERT B. WINTERMUTE was born and raised in the Badlands of South Dakota. A writer by decree, a philosopher by design, and an engineer by decision, Wintermute has spent much of his adult life contemplating Bentham’s panopticon as a model for modern society. Early investigations into orgone energy have given Wintermute a peculiar insight into the nature of mana. Experience raising a son and daughter with his wife in Madison, Wisconsin has given him a peculiar glimpse into the nature of being.
MAGIC: THE GATHERING, WIZARDS OF THE COAST, SCARS OF MIRRODIN, and their respective logos are trademarks of Wizards of the Coast LLC in the U.S.A. and other countries. ©2011 Wizards.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About the Author