“Four nights past, the levelers came to Taj Nar,” he continued. “They climbed the tower and breached the walls just after the last moon set. The alarm was raised, and our warriors fought valiantly, but still the levelers came … all the way to our chambers. We destroyed five of the foul things, but more poured through the door. We thought we would soon join Dakan, the first Kha, in the eternal light, but at our darkest hour, the levelers halted. We dared not breathe for fear it might be a trick. As one, the levelers turned and fled the way they had come.”
“That is just how it happened in the Tangle,” said Glissa. “I had shown them power, but still they came, trampling their own to get to me. Then they turned and fled.” She hesitated for a moment, then said, “I was told they were sent to kill the mightiest elf warrior in the Tangle. Perhaps they came here to kill the mightiest leonin warrior as well.”
“Your enemy is our enemy, elf,” said Raksha. “That may make us allies.”
The guard returned, holding Glissa’s sword and Slobad’s bag of tools. “Take these as a sign of our trust,” said Raksha, “and as a symbol of our new alliance against this common enemy.” He laid the sword into Glissa’s hand, and she looked at it closely for the first time. It was a beautiful blade, and the entire length of the weapon glittered and gleamed, even in the low light coming from the coals beneath Ushanti’s brazier. The curved blade seemed to flow from the hilt like water.
* * * * *
Ushanti finished her mixture and hobbled over to Glissa. The elf thought she heard the old woman grumbling, but it might have been an incantation.
“Lift your leg, elf,” said Ushanti. “This will hurt.” The leonin healer poured half of the foul-looking mixture over Glissa’s knee. Steam rose from Glissa’s calf and ankle as the concoction trickled down her leg. It seemed to be burning through the corroded metal. Glissa fought back a scream as the fire in her leg exploded and sent icy-hot tendrils of pain up her thigh.
Ushanti placed the bowl at Glissa’s feet. “Put your foot in the bowl,” she commanded.
The steam made it hard for Glissa to see the bowl, and it took most of her concentration to fight back the pain from the fire running down her leg. Finally she placed her foot into the bowl. At first she felt nothing except the lingering pain from the treatment. Her entire foot was numb. Then it began to tingle. The tingle turned into pinpricks, then into stabbing pains. It felt as if long needles were working their way into her flesh.
Glissa held her breath and gritted her teeth through the pain. Steam from the bowl rose into the air and met the steam surrounding her calf. As the steam swirled around, the elf exhaled and took another deep breath. The fire in her ankle and calf decreased little by little as the steam dissipated, but the memory of that intense pain lingered. It was some time before the muscles in her thigh relaxed to the point where she thought she could walk.
“The infection has been cleansed,” said Ushanti. “Our daughter can heal the wound left behind. We must retire now.”
“One last thing, Elder Shaman,” interjected Raksha as the old woman turned to leave.
Glissa was sure she saw a sneer cross the healer’s lips as she turned, but no trace of it lingered as she faced her leader. “Yes, Kha,” she said, bowing low.
“This figure the elf saw in the Tangle,” said Raksha. “Find him for us that our new friend …”
“Glissa,” said the elf as Raksha turned to her.
“So that we and our new friend Glissa may deal with him.”
“You wish us to enter the fire trance?” asked Ushanti. “After healing the destroyer, we must once again face the vision of her demolishing our world?”
“Yes.”
Ushanti stared at Raksha for a moment, but it was obvious all her bluster had been drained away by the force of her leader’s presence. She shuffled back to her cauldron and grabbed two handfuls of sand—one yellow, one blue. As Ushanti sifted the sand through her clenched fists into the cauldron, the smoke changed colors. Brightly limned azure wisps snaked their way up to the low ceiling. Ushanti bent low over the cauldron until the smoke enveloped her head.
Moments passed, and Glissa stared at Raksha, Rishan the healer’s daughter, and the other young healer. None of them; seemed at all worried that the old woman might suffocate within the smoke.
Ushanti began to moan. “Robes,” she cried. “Shimmering robes. Reflection. Faceless. Watching. Waiting.”
“Where is he?” asked Raksha.
Rishan moved over toward the brazier. “Look beyond the robes, Mother. See past the faceless figure. See the place. Look behind.”
“Cannot,” said the old seer. “He holds us. Riveted. Cannot move. Cannot look away. No eyes. Only reflection.”
“Look into the reflection,” said Rishan.
“Blackness. Only blackness,” said Ushanti. “It drinks in the light. Wait … a sun rises. Black sun on black sky. Illuminates … chimney. Black chimney. Huge. Reaches for the sun. Foul water cascading down. Bones everywhere. Nim!”
The last word was a scream, and Ushanti’s knees buckled underneath her. As she fell, Raksha caught the old seer and lifted her from the smoke. Her lined face seemed more sunken and sallow than ever. Her eyes were open, but there was no life in them.
Raksha carried her through another set of curtains, followed by Rishan. He held the healer as a father might hold a child who has fallen asleep in his arms. A few moments later, the Kha returned. “Walk with us, Glissa.”
Glissa looked at Slobad.
“Yes, the goblin as well.”
Glissa rose gingerly and tried out the strength of her ankle. It was still tender, but she could walk without limping. She sheathed her sword and followed Raksha back through the maze of curtains into the courtyard. The moons were all set, but the light from the fires was bright enough that Glissa couldn’t see the stars overhead. The leonin leader strode to the statue and stared into the flames.
“This is Dakan, the first Kha,” said Raksha, pointing at the statue. “It is he who took the Razor Fields from the beasts. It is he who built Taj Nar. It is he who crafted the Mask of Suns.”
Glissa noticed that the mask on the statue was a replica of the one Raksha had slung over his back.
“Dakan brought the leonin into the light and taught the tribes to keep the fires burning during the dark hours,” continued Raksha. “This fire, like the Mask of Suns we wear in battle, brings us closer to Dakan and keeps the sun in our hearts even when it is not in the sky. We maintain the fire day and night to stave off our enemy—to hold back the darkness.”
He turned to face Glissa. “You witnessed that darkness this day,” he continued. “Faced it and beat it back long enough for this goblin trickster to open a door in our defenses.”
“We didn’t mean to—”
“No need to apologize,” said Raksha. “Slobad will fix that flaw in his design.” He fixed a gaze on Slobad that made the goblin tremble. “No, you fought valiantly, even while hindered by a wound that would have kept our best warriors crying in their beds. We welcome you into Taj Nar as our champion to help us fight the nim.”
The leonin paused.
“But?” prompted Glissa. She sensed they wouldn’t enjoy leonin hospitality for long.
“Come,” said Raksha as they walked to the battlements. “Our two enemies are one enemy. Today we leonin slaughtered hundreds of nim.” He pointed below. On the slope beyond the tower’s walls, Glissa could see the dark shapes of dead nim. “Yet tomorrow a thousand more could walk from the Mephidross.”
“You cannot leave Taj Nar,” said Glissa, realizing the burden of leadership that sat so heavy on this young leonin.
“We cannot,” he said. “Nor can we send any warriors into the Mephidross.”
“They are needed here for defense.” Glissa nodded her understanding.
“Indeed,” said Raksha. “Even if we could spare troops, our best warriors could not hope to survive the Mephidross long enough to gain the Vault of Whispers. Tha
t is where you two will find our common enemy. That foul place is the chimney Ushanti saw in her fire trance.”
“Us two?” asked Slobad, speaking for the first time since Raksha had commanded him to be quiet. “Not me. Slobad has no special strength to survive in that place, huh? Stay here and fix door. Nothing special about Slobad.”
Glissa patted the goblin’s shoulders. “I do not want to put Slobad in danger,” she said. He saved my life … twice. Can he not stay here and wait for my return?”
Raksha shook his head, but there was sadness in his eyes. “You will need his guidance to avoid the nim and the reapers. Do not worry. Slobad will find a way to survive. He always does.”
Raksha turned back to Glissa. “It is vitally important that you do survive this next trial, Glissa. We do not believe you are a destroyer of worlds, but Ushanti’s visions cannot be discounted. There is a darkness swirling around us, and we—you and I—are standing in the eye of that storm.”
Glissa stared at the young Kha. It was the first time she had heard him refer to himself in the singular. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Our fates are entwined,” said Raksha. He grabbed Glissa by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I have not told anyone this,” he said. “But I, too, saw your robed figure that night—and he has haunted my dreams ever since. We … I am afraid to sleep at night.”
Slobad gasped.
“You will stay quiet on this matter, goblin,” growled Raksha, “or we will take your head ourselves. No one must know of this matter. We fear the leonin would panic if they knew their Kha now lives in terror of a hidden enemy. Find our enemy, Glissa. Find him and stop him. The fate of more than just our two lives is at stake.”
MEPHIDROSS
“The skyhunters will carry you to the edge of our lands,” said Raksha the next morning. “They will leave on their daily patrol as soon as you are ready, but they cannot take you into the Mephidross and dare not stay on the ground long at the Mephidross border.”
“How do we find this Vault of Whispers?” asked Glissa. She looked up at the pteron she was supposed to ride. It was little more than skin stretched across bones. The beast hopped back and forth on long legs, tethered to a metal stake. It towered over Glissa, but its legs were no thicker than Slobad’s scrawny arm. She had no idea how it could get itself off the ground, let alone carry its rider and a passenger.
“You must follow the black sun in the morning,” said Raksha. “By midday it will rise above the Vault before descending over the Glimmervoid.
“What you call suns, we elves call moons,” said Glissa, “and the black moon is difficult to see even at midday. Its light is often washed out by your yellow moon … sun.”
“As it should be,” said Raksha, smiling. “It will be easier to see within the Mephidross. The haze that hangs heavy over the chimneys dulls Dakan’s sun and limns the foul black orb.”
“Slobad can see Ingle fine, huh?” said the goblin. He was standing behind Glissa. She didn’t know if he was more afraid of Raksha or the pterons. “Goblins see Ingle on starless days. Sits like dark hole in sky, reaching for goblin souls.”
“We know,” said Raksha. “That is why we have sent you on this mission. You shall be Glissa’s eyes in the Dross. Now it is time for the skyhunters to leave.”
Raksha grasped Glissa’s hand and shook it hard. “Glissa, go with the sun!” he said. With a swift movement, the Kha grabbed Slobad and lifted him in an embrace. “You,” he said. “Stay alive and return to us. We have missed you.”
Glissa thought Slobad’s face turned an even brighter red than its normal rust color. Raksha tossed the goblin up onto the pteron, behind the skyhunter. Glissa looked up at her own escort, a slight-built female leonin.
“Watch the beak,” said the skyhunter as Glissa clambered up the side of the beast. “A pteron can cut you in half, even back here.”
The elf hitched her leg into the folds of skin under the beast’s front legs. The pteron immediately squawked and swung its head back to glare at Glissa. She could see dozens of sharp teeth sticking out along the edge of the creature’s beak.
“Avoid the wings,” said the skyhunter. “They are sensitive.”
“Those are its wings?” asked Glissa, looking at the skin folded underneath the beast’s long arms.
Glissa perched behind the skyhunter. There was no room in the saddle, so she had to rest on the bony back of the pteron.
“How long will it take to get to the border?” Glissa asked the leonin female.
“No more than a few hours,” she replied. “We should have you on the ground before the last sun rises.”
With that, the skyhunter kicked the pteron and pulled back on the reigns. Glissa watched in amazement as the beast unfolded its wings. They were made of skin and stretched from long claws on its front legs all the way down to the beast’s bony hips. The wings were enormous, each three times as long as Glissa. The pteron flapped its wings, but they did not rise from the ground.
“Ready?” asked the skyhunter over the din of the flapping wings.
“For what?” shouted Glissa.
It was too late. The pteron stepped off the battlement and plummeted toward the valley below the leonin tower. Glissa tried to catch her breath, but the wind whipping past her face made it impossible to breathe. The pteron continued to beat its wings slowly until—about halfway down—they caught the wind and the beast began to level out and curve away from Taj Nar.
Below them, Glissa watched scores of leonin haul nim bodies away from Taj Nar. In the distance she saw smoke rising from a large fire. “You burn the bodies of your enemies?” she asked, pointing at the bonfire.
“No!” exclaimed the skyhunter. “The fire is reserved for leonin fallen, to send their souls into the light. Nim bodies are left for the duskworkers. They eat anything. The nim bodies help keep the duskworkers in check.”
“Quelling their hunger so they don’t attack leonin?” asked Glissa. She forebore to ask exactly what kind of creatures the mycon were.
“Poisoning them to keep their numbers down,” replied the skyhunter. “Have you ever smelled the foul gas that comes from a nim?”
What a pragmatic race, thought Glissa. As they winged across the Glimmervoid, though, she began to understand them better. Outside of Taj Nar, most leonin lived in small settlements. They were cut off from one another by wide expanses of bare metal and razor grass. How different from from the Tangle, thought Glissa as the miles whipped by beneath her. In the Tangle, we live on top of our neighbors. We count on them for everything from protection to hauling water.
Glissa concluded she couldn’t live like the leonin. Or like Slobad had, either. Glissa glanced back at the goblin, hanging on so hard she could see his white knuckles even from a distance. She felt a fondness for the strange little tinkerer, beyond the appreciation she owed him for saving her life. He’d had a hard and lonely life.
* * * * *
Hours later, the rolling hills were replaced by craggy terrain. Where once Glissa saw hills and half-moon mounds that formed homes for leonin settlers, she now saw only broken spires—perhaps the chimneys Raksha had spoken about—and an occasional mound that appeared to have been looted and destroyed. The chimneys were dark, much blacker than the surrounding silver expanse of the remaining Glimmervoid. They jutted up from the flat plain like columns, with wide bases that tapered to jagged tops. Looking past her escort, Glissa saw they were flying toward a black curtain that cut across the Glimmervoid like a dark line. It was as if the moons did not shine past that line.
Glissa couldn’t make out any details past this border between light and dark. A thick green haze obscured the air above the land. All she could see was a glistening sheen on the ground near the border of the hazy curtain. The land dipped down toward the haze, and Glissa was certain that the border moved slightly as she watched.
“What is that?” she called to the skyhunter, pointing to the ground ahead of them.
“The Mep
hidross,” shouted the leonin. “You won’t enjoy slogging through that.”
A few minutes later, the skyhunter circled the pteron around one of the last chimneys before the curtain of haze. “I have to set down on top, or we won’t get airborne again,” she said to Glissa.
Glissa watched the haze as they drifted lower and lower. The other pteron circled a second chimney. The pteron landed on a small ledge at the tip of the chimney. Glissa crawled down from the flying lizard more nimbly than she had ascended but still landed on her rear when the creature pulled its wing from the way just as she reached for it. She felt sure the pteron smiled at her. It spread its wings and dropped off the edge of the chimney.
The elf rose, brushed herself off, and looked for a way down from the chimney. The outside was sheer and smooth. It would be much harder to climb than a Tangle tree. She peered down into the interior of the chimney, but the yellow moon was still low in the sky and she couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t tell if there was any way out at the bottom.
She looked around for Slobad and spotted him on the ground. He had somehow made it to the bottom of his chimney. Then she noticed movement in the haze. A moment later, a squad of nim appeared, moving right toward her. The chimney might be defensible, but Slobad was already on the ground. She couldn’t leave him alone.
Glissa pulled out her sword and jumped over the edge of the chimney. She twisted in the air as she fell and plunged the sword into the metallic structure with both hands. I hope this works again, thought Glissa as her feet slammed into the side of the chimney. She plummeted toward the ground. The sword sliced through the chimney as easily as it had through the Tangle tree. Glissa slid down the slight incline at breakneck speed.
The sword hardly slowed her down at all. She pushed with her feet and dug the blade in deeper. Glissa began to slow down, but she could see ground coming up fast. As she neared the bottom, she tensed her muscles and flexed her knees. About five feet from the ground, she released the sword and kicked off hard with her legs. The change in direction didn’t lessen her momentum, but instead of slamming into the ground, the elf skipped across it and rolled to a stop.
The Moons of Mirrodin Page 9