by Adams, Tom
After hiding the two dead Ukurum in a thicket, Albany and Destain took the first mount. Aislynn shared the largest steed with Johnny and the Ukurum, while Celestia and Merrick took the third. It was clear that Celestia was schooled in horsemanship and didn’t take long to exert her influence on the mount. The others had various degrees of difficulty, but it wasn’t long before they were proceeding at cantering speed.
The companions were relieved at the increased pace, and the chance to rest their weary legs. The Ukurum was slung over Aislynn’s horse between her and Johnny. She offered no protest despite her significant injuries, but after a while Merrick instructed Johnny to permit her a seated position. Blood was continuing to pour from her facial wounds and they would gain nothing from her losing consciousness at this stage.
After an hour’s ride the terrain got steeper and they crested a hill to find Shamon’s conquered city lying in a basin ahead. Merrick recognised the termite-nest buildings in the half-light, poking their tops above the sand-coloured walls of the city.
Johnny instructed them not to wait on the brow of the hill as their silhouettes would stand out and announce their presence. They dismounted in a narrow gully and allowed the mounts to drink from a gurgling brook that tumbled over moss-laden rocks.
“We’re about as close to the city walls as we dare go without being seen,” Johnny said. “Do we have a plan?”
“This is what I’ve got,” Merrick said and proceeded to lay out a thumbnail sketch of his proposals. Johnny didn’t like it, but Merrick insisted he stay with their captive, along with Destain. The rest would infiltrate the city under Aislynn’s camouflage and seek to find out whatever they could.
“We might be gone for some time,” Merrick said to Johnny, “but we’ll keep in touch via mind-speak with Destain.”
“What if you’re captured?” Johnny asked.
“Difficult as it may be, you’ll have to try and get to Shamon’s gateway—it’s the only way back to the other side. In the meantime, extract whatever information you can from our prisoner.”
“With any latitude I care to take?”
“Don’t mess her up any more. Try more ... subtle means.”
“Believe me, I have many other tools at my disposal,” he said in a tone that Merrick didn’t quite trust. The man’s adrenaline and testosterone levels were high. A dangerous combination.
“All’s fair in …” Merrick couldn’t finish the sentence. He knew none of this was fair—not fair at all.
~~~
Chapter 36
Ear in the wall
They ate their provisions like fugitives and left their rucksacks with Johnny. By the time the four of them had reached the city walls, the sun—if they could call it that, was sinking below the ramparts. They could hear the sound of the city as they approached a large gateway; cries from infants, shouts from traders in a foreign tongue, clanks from primitive machinery and other unearthly noises, indecipherable to their ears. The stench of animal waste and perspiration hung over the metropolis and they coughed until their senses acclimatised to the miasma.
The gates had a minimal guard, which told them much.
It seems Shamon doesn’t expect an assault from this direction, he sent to Celestia.
“We shouldn’t have a problem getting through,” Albany said.
This wasn’t completely the case. As they approached under Aislynn’s illusory cover, the guards became more distinct and Merrick could make out they were humanoid in form. Long, fur-covered snouts extended from their faces bearing nostrils that flared with an increasing frequency as they drew closer.
They sense us, sent Celestia. As if they had heard her speak, the guards lowered the points of their spears and scanned left and right, trying to locate the hidden troupe of companions. The Outcasts split into two groups and skirted round the guards. There were four in all, but despite their attentiveness and communication by a peculiar chirping language, they continued to look around in bewilderment.
They were soon past the obstacle and Merrick noted with relief that they weren’t followed.
“Do you think they smelled us?” Merrick said once they were out of earshot.
“That would be a safe bet,” Albany replied.
They stepped through crowds of natives, although it was all they could do to avoid collisions as they sought to make headway.”
“This is impossible,” Aislynn said. “It’s only a matter of time before someone bumps into us.”
“You’re right,” Merrick said, as loud as he dared without attracting attention. Let’s make our way over to that monument for a breather, it’s quieter there.”
The monument rose up in front of a wall and the companions were able to skulk in a cranny behind it. Like a lifted cloak, Aislynn enabled their forms to appear in their default native disguises.
“That’s better,” Albany said. “You don’t know how weird it is trying to keep track of a ripple in the air.”
“Where do we go from here?” Aislynn asked. She had been more vocal on their approach to the city. Merrick couldn’t decide if this was natural reticence wearing off or a strategic decision on her part. One thing he was sure of—she’d be informing Karapetian of this new dimension-bridging power. He began to question his judgement over withholding the information.
“We’re looking for Ukurum positions and numbers,” he said, “I suspect we’ll have to breach Shamon’s headquarters.” He turned to Celestia. “What can you detect in the immediate vicinity?”
She closed her eyes and placed forefingers on her temples. After a minute she had finished her psychic reconnoiter. “As you’d expect, a lot of activity just outside of Shamon’s lair at the centre of the city.”
Merrick raised his eyes and focused on the steep, walls of the fortress that dominated the urban landscape about a mile away. “Anything else?”
“Mai oui, there are barracks of warriors located to the north and south of here, three in number. I sense about four to five hundred Necrolytes and Amorphics in each. I’ve even managed to probe outside the city and there’s a major camp of the enemy to the east, thousands strong at a guess.”
“What about the main fortress itself?”
“Malheuresement, it’s closed to me. I sense Shamon has centred his power there.
“I suppose that shouldn’t surprise us.”
After a moment’s discussion, they agreed that Shamon’s fortress was the obvious goal, though no one offered a solution to how they could penetrate its defences.
The streets through which they passed were little more than dirt tracks. Animal dung littered the thoroughfares and streams of effluent ran through the gullies. Amidst it all, the Celebrain children played, older citizens begged or sold their wares and, every so often, a party of Ukurum marched. No one paid them any heed. Each individual seemed wrapped up in their own personal misery and struggle to survive. There was a marked absence of younger adults. Merrick still hadn’t learned to differentiate between male and female, but age wasn’t so difficult.
What do you reckon, Celestia? Has Shamon conscripted all the natives of fighting age?
I think you’re right. They are expendable cattle in Shamon’s eyes.
One youngster approached them, dressed in soiled sackcloth. Shoeless, four-toed feet peeked from underneath the bottom hem. It looked up at Merrick with its front limbs cupped together—a universal supplication. The bovine-like eyes on the sides of its head blinked, sending flying insects abroad, only to re-settle in an instant. Merrick couldn’t understand the words and noises it uttered but he knew what it wanted. He reached into a pocket and pulled out some biscuits. The kid took them from him, placing one in its mouth. After a couple of bites, it made a soft-chirruping sound then stuffed in the rest. It gave a final snort and ran off to tell its friends.
“Not such a clever move,” Albany said. “It’ll be back for more, together with its extended family and friends. We could do without the attention.”
“Albany’s
right,” Aislynn said. “Cut into this alleyway, I’ll change our appearances.”
In a matter of seconds, she transformed them into alternate Celebrains. Merrick watched the kid he had just fed scuttling by, leading a group of peers towards what it hoped was another helping of tasty morsels.
“Poor little buggers,” Merrick said. “This conflict isn’t just about our own kind anymore. Shamon’s going to have to answer to all who have suffered.”
Half an hour later, giving Ukurum patrols a wide berth whenever possible, the companions found themselves a stone’s throw away from the fortress. Night had fallen and Shamon’s lair was lit by the orange glare of pitch-torches and braziers.
“Seems there are some things that burn on this world,” Albany said.
The fortress didn’t so much stand on the earth as organically rise from it. Merrick sensed its foundations reaching down under the surface like diseased roots, emanating an ancient evil that kept the population of the city cowed under its malign influence. It was almost as if it had been built for Shamon. In truth, Merrick guessed he’d usurped it from a previous, weaker principality.
The walls of the outer defence were at least two hundred feet high by Merrick’s estimation. Unknown builders had rendered them with a russet, wattle-like substance, gaving their surface a smooth texture. Celebrain guards patrolled in twos every five-minutes.
“No way we can scale those walls,” Albany said. “Even if we could, the Ukurum would spot us if we drifted too far from Aislynn’s influence. How on earth are we going to get in?”
“I’m going to try something,” Merrick said. “It’s experimental, but it might save us a lot of energy and risk. Shamon’s defences aren’t just physical, they’re Magickal.”
Celestia nodded. “He’s also going to be ten times as wary, knowing we penetrated his stronghold in Ashgabat. What do you have in mind?”
After Merrick told them, the companions were speechless. Albany broke the silence. “And you said climbing the walls was risky?”
Merrick shrugged. “This way, the risk is all mine.”
“But it’s untested,” Aislynn said. “We may lose you forever, and become trapped in Celebrai.”
Merrick turned to Celestia. “What do you think?” he said.
She shivered in the frigid night air. With the illusory appearance of a Celebrain native, she looked like a timid animal, huddling against the hut wall. “It might work. But I can’t help having a bad feeling about it.”
~~~
Lazlo Karapetian ensconced himself in the library at Paraganet house. He had a rare moment away from drawing up battle plans with the multitude of military commanders and occult leaders. He poured himself a cognac and let its vintage vapours infuse his sinuses. He thought of Merrick and the drink they’d enjoyed on his first visit; the common fertile ground that germinated shoots of a shared appreciation. So similar in many respects, yet so different. Both had made errors, but his was the greater responsibility. He’d handled the situation like an amateur, sowing seeds of mistrust and letting the promise of a renewed order over-shadow the need for an ethical hand on the tiller.
It had been ten hours since their departure and still no word. It was too long for an initial sortie. The need for haste clouded their better judgment. He realised now they would have been better testing the routes across dimensions, and then exploring Celebrai with proper back-up. But he had held back on his advice, knowing Merrick was still suspicious of him. He didn’t want another schism opening up between them, just when they’d forged a new alliance.
A knock on the door wrenched his thoughts back to the present. It was Jason. “Lazlo, we’ve just received a communique from the other side. I think you need to see this.”
~~~
The companions stood in the corridor. Two Necrolytes were sprawled on the floor, green blood pooling beneath them. Merrick sat on the floor too, exhausted but unhurt.
“That took more out of you than you predicted,” Celestia said. She crouched over him, a look of concern on her face. He looked into her eyes and drew strength from the warmth he found there. “Tu est formidable,” she said, “but also foolish.”
It took an effort to lift his head. “You’ve got to admit though, it was pretty cool.”
“Cool? It was amazing,” Albany said. “Have you got any more tricks up your sleeve?”
“None I’ll be performing today,” Merrick replied. His speech slurred and he knew he wouldn’t be making much sense.
“We can’t stay here.” Aislynn was looking round the corner of the passage up ahead. “We need to keep moving.”
“Can you give us cover as Necrolytes?” Albany asked.
“Yes, but we’ll be dwarf Necrolytes. My illusions can’t compensate for the difference in height. We’d be better adopting the form of Amorphics.”
“Would they have access to this part of the fortress?” Celestia said.
Albany stood up. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take. Aislynn, give me a hand getting these bodies into that alcove over there. Celestia, help Merrick up. We need to find a room or hiding place. Somewhere to give him chance to recover.
Like a veil passing over each of them, Aislynn’s Amorphic illusion coalesced around their bodies.
The alcove contained an aperture in the floor. Albany looked over and snapped his head back. “Fucking hell, what a stench,” he said, placing a hand over his mouth and nose.
“It’s a Necrolyte latrine,” Aislynn said.
“What better place to give these bastards a final resting place.” He hefted his Necrolyte towards the hole then booted the corpse into it. There was a second of silence followed by the echo of a viscous splash. “Rather poetic, don’t you think?”
Aislynn ignored him, lifted the remaining Necrolyte above her head and tossed it in to join its partner.
“Hey, where d’you get those muscles?” Albany said.
Aislynn looked at him. “I just keep eating the spinach.”
“The girl has a sense of humour too.”
“Hurry up, you two,” Celestia called to them.
They bundled Merrick along as best they could. They passed two groups of Ukurum, choosing to stand aside for both. The first, consisting of four Necrolytes, pounded past with a purposeful gait the companions had come to expect. They swept by without a glance. The second group stopped in their tracks. They were three Amorphic, who made clicking noises at them. The companions lack of response seemed to exasperate one, but they too passed on after judging they posed no threat.
They passed many doorways, always hearing the sound of Ukurum communication on the other side; either the gutteral harshness of the Necrolyte tongue, or the irritating burr of the Amorphic. Finally, they happened upon a room beyond an archway, separated from the passage by a thick damask-like drape. Inside, they found wooden boxes piled from floor to ceiling and shelves laden with tunics, belts and assorted weaponry. It offered scant concealment but served as a place of respite.
They placed Merrick, delirious with exhaustion, on the only seat present and took stock.
“He’s going to be out of commission for a while,” Albany said.
“No wonder,” Celestia said. “He created six portals to get us here, and that last one was more a tunnel than a gateway.”
Albany stood with hands on hips. “Well, if we’ve achieved nothing more from this trip, knowing he can weave a way through different realms back to the same one will have made it worth the trouble.”
“Yet we don’t know the full extent of Shamon’s defences,” Aislynn said.
Albany looked at his watch. “Assuming time runs the same between realms, then we’ll have been in Celebrai ten hours. If we stay much longer, Karapetian’s going to get antsy.”
“Not to mention we’ve got several hours trek back to our original access point,” the illusionist added.
“Maybe we won’t have to make the return journey across the plain,” Albany said, looking down at Merrick.
Celes
tia bent down and felt Merrick’s perspiring brow. “He’s not going to be ready for that. He needs time to recover.”
Albany shrugged. “Then we might as well make use of the wait. I suggest you stay here with Merrick while Aislynn and I do some more reconnaissance.”
“I won’t be able to maintain their illusions once we leave,” Aislynn said.
Albany swept a hand over the surface of a folded tunic. Cobwebs festooned his fingers. “With a bit of luck they won’t need them. This place doesn’t look like it’s used much.” He looked at Celestia. “What can you detect?”
“I keep trying to get a sense of the complex, but there’s so much interference. The constant maintenance of our sensory shield limits my range too. What I do know is that a diverse mass of life exists in the lower catacombs. It could be a multitude of morphing tanks, like we saw on our previous visit.”
“We could do with knowing just what Shamon is spawning in this hellhole. I suggest we follow whatever directions you’ve got, get a handle on what’s down there and then return.”
Celestia stood up again. “And what if you don’t come back?”
Albany forced a grim smile. “Don’t bother sending out a search party, just get yourselves back to the others and skedaddle to Paraganet.
Celestia sighed. “I still haven’t lost that bad feeling.”
~~~
Merrick was aware that some time had passed since he last heard the whispers of his companions. He drifted in and out of consciousness, only able to open his eyes a fraction before complete exhaustion overcame him again. In his thoughts he heard Celestia’s soothing voice. Her French inflections made the words a song, the lilting cadence of their rhythm percolating into his vivid dreams. The scent of her perfume, the knowledge of her closeness gave him the security he needed to let go and regenerate.