Dead Man's Steel

by Luke Scull

  ‘But we won,’ Saverian said. ‘I led us to victory.’

  ‘A victory that has been undone since humanity murdered the gods.’ Obrahim turned to Thanates. ‘Your Magelords broke the Pattern. The great binding spell of the elves has unravelled and now the Nameless is on the brink of returning. In the places of the world where the walls between realities are weakest – in the highest mountains and the deepest oceans – the seals are failing. Soon the Horror Among The Stars will be free to enter the world.’

  ‘The highest mountains,’ Kayne repeated. ‘Ain’t none higher than the Fangs.’

  Prince Obrahim shook his head. ‘The Demonfire Hills were once named the Mountains of Fire and they rose higher than any place in Terra or Rhûn. It was there we fought a desperate battle against the Nameless. The mountain shook and in the end was shattered before the Nameless was sealed away.’

  Cole was frowning at the pointy-eared humanoids. They were almost as tall as the Ancients, but bronze of skin, and instead of hand-cannons and crystal swords they carried bows of wood and blades of iron.

  ‘You killed them,’ Cole said accusingly. ‘The elves. I saw it happen, in the ruins north of Thelassa. There was an amphitheatre there. These living memories were replayed upon a wall.’

  ‘An enlightenment chamber,’ Isaac muttered. ‘We abandoned the practice when we departed this continent.’

  ‘The elves grew arrogant,’ announced Saverian. ‘They threatened the future of our people. In the end, they were Reckoned.’

  They grew arrogant? Sasha wanted to laugh at the accusation, coming as it did from the supremely proud, white-haired general, but she dared not.

  ‘The elves were long-lived, by your standards,’ said Prince Obrahim. ‘Yet they were not immortal. They made the same mistakes as our ancestors. We were eventually forced to oppose them.’ Despite his words, the prince’s voice was tinged with regret. ‘Now there is no elven high magic left in the world. There are no gods left to oppose the Nameless if it breaks through. It must be stopped before it is too late. Else, like Old Terra, this world is doomed.’

  ‘How do we kill it?’ rasped Jerek, always straight to the point.

  ‘It cannot be killed as we understand the concept, for life and death mean nothing to it. Before the Nameless can enter this world, it first sends its herald.’

  ‘I know of the Herald,’ said Carn. ‘A nightmare made flesh. Heartstone’s circle could not kill it. The Shaman could not kill it.’

  ‘We almost killed it,’ uttered Saverian. His voice was filled with bitterness. Bitterness and a terrible anger. ‘It escaped. My greatest failure.’

  ‘Brother,’ said Obrahim, his voice heavy with sadness. ‘You must forgive yourself.’

  The living memory of a massive demon appeared on the platform – a towering reptilian monstrosity with three sinister eyes and a set of gigantic, batlike wings folded around its vaguely humanoid body.

  ‘The three-eyed demon,’ Cole muttered. ‘One of the cultists I encountered down in Tarbonne said it visited his dreams.’

  Obrahim nodded. ‘It seeks to bend mortals to its will through dark promises. My kind are immune to its insidious nature.’

  The demon lord was surrounded by Fade, who were firing upon it with their hand-cannons. The fiend swept up an Ancient in its talons and tore her in half, tossing away the ruins of her body even as the endless rain of tiny metal projectiles sent it crashing to the ground.

  ‘I thought it was finished,’ Saverian growled. His jaw was clenched, his teeth grinding together.

  Within the living memory the Fade lowered their hand-cannons, apparently responding to some unseen order. They parted and then the living memory of Saverian himself strode to meet the fallen demon, his crystal sword raised. Just before he could deliver the killing blow, the Herald’s great wings beat unexpectedly. The demon rose, still clinging to life despite the countless wounds it carried. Saverian sprang at it but the Herald was too fast, taking to the air before the general could finish it off. With another mighty beat of its wings it launched itself beyond reach of the Fade, who were left to unload their hand-cannons at an empty sky.

  Obrahim tapped his sceptre on the deck of the Seeker and the light from the diamond winked out, the living memories disappearing from the platform.

  ‘I failed,’ Saverian grated in the silence that followed. ‘I failed our people. If I had not ordered my soldiers to cease firing, the Herald would have perished and the Nameless would have been cut off from this world. The war that followed costs thousands of lives.’

  ‘You made a mistake, brother,’ said Obrahim gently. ‘One mistake in five thousand years.’

  ‘I underestimated a threat. Never again.’

  Thanates cleared his throat. ‘You wish for our help. That is why you called a truce.’

  Prince Obrahim nodded. ‘The Herald acts as the anchor to which the Nameless attaches itself to this world. If it is slain, the Horror Among The Stars may never again be able to find its way back. At least not within a hundred generations of mankind. This is your chance at redemption. Not a guarantee – even if you succeed, I may yet decide humanity’s crimes are too egregious to forgive. But I will at least consider the justness of our crusade.’

  Finally, Sasha dared speak. ‘The Herald is a thousand miles away.’

  The Fade prince spread his arms, encompassing the flying machine they were standing in. ‘A day’s travel for the Seeker. Ariel will take a small group of you north, to the mountains where the Herald may be found. After that, you are on your own.’

  ‘You won’t help us?’ Sasha asked.

  ‘I entrust humanity with this mission. Enough of my kind have perished in this land already. I will risk no more of my people unless it is necessary.’

  Cole voiced the question on everyone’s lips. ‘What if we fail?’

  Prince Obrahim’s ancient gaze narrowed on the assembled humans. ‘Then I will do what I must to ensure the Herald is slain, even if it costs more of my people. And after, the crusade against humanity will proceed as planned.’

  Thanates wasn’t yet finished. ‘Your kind crossed the Endless Ocean to see us destroyed. “There will be no exceptions.” Those were the words of your general. Why even contemplate reconsidering your decision?’ The wizard glanced at Saverian, who appeared deeply unhappy. Melissan, too, looked as though she had swallowed something foul.

  The prince nodded at Isaac. ‘Shortly after the rift opened in the Demonfire Hills, Adjudicator Isaac approached me and told me something I never expected to hear. Not in a hundred thousand of your human years. He came to me – and he told me his judgement may have been wrong.’

  *

  Sasha dreamed later that night. She dreamed of her sister. Of the bodies of unformed women floating in glass containers filled with blood. She dreamed of a sinister smile and the snip of scissors.

  She dreamed of a three-eyed demon, its wings engulfing her, razor talons rending her body apart as she screamed and screamed.

  She dreamed of a white-haired giant stalking her down a tunnel while she ran. There was something in the tunnel with her, something made of darkness and fury. It was hidden by a great shadow. She heard the clanking of metal and realized that it wore chains. She flinched away, but it did not move to harm her. Instead it stalked past her to block the path of the giant. She ran on, heard growling and the ra-ta-ta-ta of an explosive weapon unleashing a stream of projectiles. There was the sound of a chain breaking and then an anguished howl. It made little sense to her, but she kept on running, wanting only to escape. To be free.

  But she wasn’t free. Instead she was drowning among a thousand slivers of nightmare. They pulled her in and spewed her back out, a whirlwind of fractured dreams filled with the deepest fears, the darkest memories. They did not belong to her and she thrashed wildly, trying to escape, knowing she was still asleep but unable to wake. She felt like she was drowning, that she would never wake up again.

  From out of nowhere, a hand grasped
her flailing arm. Began to pull her up, towards the light. A voice reached her, growing louder—

  ‘Sash, wake up.’

  Her eyelids fluttered open. Cole was staring down at her, his grey eyes filled with worry.

  Grey like steel, she thought. Just like a steel frame, he was her support – steadfast, unbending throughout the years.

  ‘You have a fever,’ Cole said. He placed a palm against her forehead and it came away damp with sweat. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

  ‘Like what?’ The fire beside them had burned down to embers.

  ‘Your eyes look weird. I thought I heard them... clicking.’ Cole took a gentle hold of her chin and turned her head so that he could examine the scar on the back of her skull. ‘What did that bastard do to you?’ he whispered, voice full of cold fury.

  Sasha pushed his hand away and rose to her feet. ‘I need to clear my head,’ she said, ignoring the wounded expression on his face.

  She wandered through the great camp, weaving between tents, stepping around sleeping Highlanders. To the south, Westrock perched on its great crag and awaited the morning and all it would bring. The Seeker had departed hours ago, carrying Prince Obrahim and the other Fade back to Dorminia. It would return at dawn.

  She passed a tent leaking the soft orange glow of torchlight into the night. Within, she could hear a familiar voice arguing softly. It was Brodar Kayne, she realized. Curious, she stopped outside the tent, straining to hear.

  ‘...won’t be coming back,’ Kayne was saying now.

  ‘Then let me go,’ said an angry voice. The voice of a younger man. Magnar, if Sasha remembered correctly.

  ‘I’m old, son. If I die, it ain’t nothing that hasn’t been coming for many a year now. You’ve got your life ahead of you.’

  ‘What life?’ Magnar’s voice was filled with despair – and despair was something Sasha was more familiar with than most. ‘Let me do this, Father,’ he begged. ‘Let me step out of your shadow this one time.’

  ‘You ever fought a demon?’ Brodar Kayne demanded. ‘Ever felt the demon-fear grab your insides and twist them so badly you can hardly stand straight?’ There was a moment’s silence and then, ‘Can you still hold a sword?’

  Magnar’s reply was inaudible.

  There was a rustle nearby, causing Sasha to jump. Feeling guilty, she bent down and pretended to tie her bootlaces. A freckle-faced boy of around fourteen years emerged from behind some bushes, pulling tight the cord to secure his breeches. He stopped when he saw Sasha, looking vaguely embarrassed.

  ‘Dawn’s not far off,’ she said, searching desperately for something to say. Teenage boys had always been a mystery to her. She noted his red hair and green eyes. ‘You don’t look like a Highlander,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Brick,’ he replied. ‘I was just taking a piss.’ Sasha raised an eyebrow and he seemed to remember himself. ‘I mean, I needed to spend a copper,’ he said sheepishly. ‘Sorry. I’ve spent too much time with Jerek. I shouldn’t talk that way to a lady.’

  ‘Who the fuck said I was a lady?’ Sasha replied with a wry grin, enjoying the way his freckled face turned red. ‘You know Brodar Kayne and Jerek?’

  Brick nodded sombrely. ‘We’re practically brothers,’ he said.

  ‘Brothers, you say?’ Sasha spotted Jerek sitting alone near a campfire. The Wolf was staring off into the night. ‘You mean he actually likes you? I thought he didn’t like anyone.’

  ‘Everyone says that. I don’t think he likes women much. Or most men. But he likes Kayne, and he puts up with me.’

  Sasha stared at Jerek, who somehow sensed he was being watched. He turned to stare right back at her and scowled.

  ‘He never married. Never had any children,’ she said quietly to herself.

  ‘The Wolf ain’t got time for that shit,’ said Brick, in deadly earnest.

  A tent flap opposite opened and a pretty blonde-haired girl emerged blinking into the night. ‘Brick?’ she called out, bustling over. ‘Who’s this?’ She pouted. Sasha couldn’t help but notice her eyes. They were a beautiful shade of blue.

  ‘I’m Sasha,’ she said, holding out her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, the girl reached out and clasped it.

  ‘Corinn.’

  ‘You need not worry about me and Brick. He’s at least ten years too young for me.’ Among other things. She smiled at the girl. ‘I should be getting some sleep now,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow I fly north to the Devil’s Spine.’

  ‘You’re going?’ Brick exclaimed, shocked.

  ‘Yes. Does that surprise you?’

  ‘Well... But you’re not a warrior. You’re...’

  ‘I’m a what?’ Sasha demanded. ‘A woman?’

  ‘Not just that. I mean, Rana is going. But she’s a sorceress, like Corinn.’

  Sasha stared at Corinn, her eyes widening in surprise. ‘Is that true? You’re a sorceress?’

  ‘Yes,’ the girl replied. ‘They say I’m stronger in the gift than anyone since Morgatha the Insane. But Rana was chosen to go. She’s the most senior among us.’

  ‘It ought to be me flying north with Kayne and Jerek,’ Brick said. ‘They need me.’ He turned and spat, clearly trying his best to look tough. Corinn and Sasha exchanged a glance, both women rolling their eyes at the same time.

  Brick suddenly noticed the Wolf sitting by his campfire. ‘I’m going to sit with Jerek,’ he announced. ‘I want to say goodbye.’

  Corinn seemed annoyed by that. ‘Say goodbye? You hardly even talk to each other! All you do is sit there looking angry.’

  ‘You just don’t get it,’ Brick protested. He walked over to Jerek’s campfire and exchanged a perfunctory ‘all right’ with the Wolf, then proceeded to sit down and say nothing.

  ‘He’s right. I don’t get it,’ said Corinn ruefully. She shook her head. Her blonde hair shone prettily in the light of the fires. She truly was beautiful.

  Sasha tore her gaze away from the girl opposite her. ‘I think I do,’ she said quietly.

  *

  The Seeker arrived back in Westrock just after dawn. Sasha and the rest of the small party that had been chosen for what, in all likelihood, would be a suicide mission made their way up the crag, walking in silence. Thanates took the lead despite his blindness, guided by the drone of the engines above them. Kayne and Jerek followed behind, the Highlanders armed to the teeth. Behind them was a Highland woman of middling years who Sasha assumed must be the sorceress Rana. The woman seemed uncertain, possibly even a little afraid. Cole and Sasha brought up the rear of the group, separated from the plain-faced sorceress by one of the White Lady’s handmaidens. Thanates had taken to his crow form and flown to Thelassa in a last-ditch effort to convince the ruler of Thelassa to come with them. She had refused. She would not leave her city with the Fade occupying Dorminia, no matter what promises they made. The Unborn would be her eyes and ears on this most urgent of quests. The future of the Trine, of humanity in the north, depended on their success.

  The fury in Saverian’s eyes before the formidable white-haired general had returned to Dorminia had suggested that he would relish their failure. Relish their failure, and perhaps the opportunity to claim his own redemption against the Herald, should they fail.

  As they reached the Seeker, the door on the side of the craft slid open. An unexpected figure raised a hand in greeting.

  ‘Isaac?’ Sasha whispered. The Adjudicator had his crystal sword and hand-cannon at his waist.

  Cole frowned up at the Fade. ‘Don’t tell me he’s coming,’ he muttered, too quiet for Isaac to hear.

  The stairs were lowered and one by one they climbed up into the Seeker. Ariel was in the cockpit, adjusting the craft’s bizarre navigational controls. She gave them a nod of greeting as they came aboard.

  ‘Well met,’ said Isaac. ‘The radar reports the weather to be clement almost all the way to the mountains.’

  ‘The what is the what?’ Kayne said, clearly puzzled.

 
‘The skies are clear. We should reach the Devil’s Spine by evening.’

  The old Highlander’s brow furrowed in confusion. ‘Evening... you mean evening today?’ His tone seemed to suggest that wasn’t likely.

  The Adjudicator smiled. ‘The Salvation could cover such a distance in the blink of an eye. Compared with the wonders our ancestors left behind in the Time Before, the Seeker is a primitive and ungainly thing.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Cole asked bluntly. ‘I thought this was about humanity. Our redemption.’

  The old Cole would probably have added and me in there somewhere – but the old Cole had been irrevocably changed, if not erased, by whatever he had gone through in the last few months.

  We’ll talk once this is over. I need to be frank with him, to tell him the truth about what I was. What I am.

  ‘I asked Prince Obrahim to allow me to accompany you,’ replied Isaac. He hesitated, then added, ‘I am to observe and help where possible. The Herald must be killed.’

  Thanates cracked his knuckles. Black fire danced between his fingers. ‘Demons hold no fear for a wizard-king of Dalashra.’

  ‘The Herald shrugs off magic like none other of its kind,’ Isaac warned. ‘It is monumentally difficult to kill. Its wounds heal within minutes.’

  ‘Then we’ll kill the fucker quick,’ Jerek growled.

  ‘Can we trust your prince?’ asked Thanates. ‘If we slay this Herald, he will reconsider your crusade against humanity?’

  Isaac hesitated. ‘Obrahim is inclined towards mercy. Unlike his brother.’

  ‘What if he’s lying? You ask us to risk our lives on a premise that may be an illusion. Your prince may have already decided our fate.’

  ‘We do not lie,’ said Isaac. ‘And we do not break our word.’

  Sasha closed her eyes as the Seeker’s engines fired and the craft began to climb into the air. Heights and sea travel were two of her greatest fears. She wondered who, if the gods were dead, she had managed to offend for life to keep throwing this kind of shit at her.