King of Shards

by Matthew Kressel

  “The sun will rise in two hours,” Grug said, rousing them from sleep.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Caleb sat up, blinked away the horrid dream—a recurring one; he had been tumbling through the Great Deep, helpless, screaming for the Creator—his mother. And though she had created him and a trillion others, she decided to destroy their universe. Billions had fallen through the Abyss at the Shattering. Few had survived. Far fewer had fallen twice.

  All that emptiness, Caleb thought, sitting up. And the Creator had not enough room for us demons, even in the Abyss’s farthest corners? He spat into the ashes of the fire. Curse her.

  Rana sat on a stone bench, awake. A hundred little waxen soldiers were arrayed on the bench beside her. Was she up all night crafting them? he wondered. Her creativity truly was insatiable. She looked exhausted.

  Grug prepared their supplies, and Daniel, eager to move, helped him pack. But Daniel was pale and paused often to rub his bloodshot eyes.

  “You need to eat,” Caleb said, offering Daniel a strip of dried ox meat.

  Daniel shook his head. “Maybe later.”

  Grug handed each of them a bag, and Marul said, “I can’t believe I’m going outside! To smell fresh air again! To see the sky! I’ve forgotten what the sky looks like.”

  “The sky,” Caleb said, “certainly hasn’t forgotten you.” She scowled at him as they left the chamber and entered tunnels covered with Marul’s endless scratchings. Caleb felt smug knowing that none of Marul’s spells had worked. His prison had held this powerful witch for five long years. He smiled to himself as they walked. To light their way, Grug kindled sconces high in the walls with his Mikulalim magic. “We’ll be taking Kipod’s Stair,” Grug said. “It’s the fastest way to the desert.”

  “A stair?” Marul said. “Here? I’ve searched these caves a thousand times. There’s nothing but dust.”

  “You saw what you were supposed to see,” Caleb said.

  “Grug?” Marul said, turning. “You told me there were no connecting passages, that you traveled through the upper door that leads to the invisible steps.”

  “I’m sorry, mistress,” Grug said. “I had my orders.”

  “You see Marul,” Rana said. “Do you still believe this jailkeep is your friend? He held you under lock and key for five years.”

  Marul paused to catch her breath. “Grug is under a compulsion. Isn’t that right, Grug?”

  “I must obey Lord Ashmedai,” Grug said. “He whom you call Caleb.”

  “You see, Rana?” Marul said. “You see? My Grug had no choice!”

  “My Grug?” Rana mumbled. “Yes, I see clearly now.”

  Caleb saw it too—he should have guessed it sooner. In the long, empty hours in this cave, Grug and Marul had become quite a bit more than friends. This pleased him; it had proved just how far Marul had fallen from her days seducing young beauties by the dozen. There was no limit to how low Marul might go.

  They entered a dark, unadorned room a dozen paces wide. A few worn containers lay heavy with dust and time. “Like the vanishing stair,” Caleb said, “a spell here keeps the dust thick, the footprints hidden. Now kiss the floor.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Kiss the floor. Did I not say that the exit was right under your nose?”

  “My lips,” Marul said, touching hers. She closed her eyes. “Ten thousand spells. Ten thousand rituals, incantations, and here my freedom waited, a stone’s throw from where I slept.”

  “As it was meant to be,” Caleb said.

  Marul fell to her knees, swiped away a layer of dust, and kissed the floor. Like a giant sighing beast, a rift opened in the stone and a stale gust of air sprayed her hair. A black portal ground noisily open, a rectangular door in the stone floor. Marul stared wide-eyed into it.

  “Oh, blessed Mollai,” she said. “Giver of rain, it’s beautiful.”

  “Kipod’s Stair leads to Yarrow,” Grug said. “The city of my brothers.”

  “And out to the sky!” Marul said.

  “Yes, mistress.”

  Obsidian steps descended into darkness. Caleb grabbed a dusty torch from the wall and had Grug light it with three harsh words. The room brightened, and Caleb stood over Kipod’s Stair, stale air blowing in his face.

  The staircase itself was less than three paces wide. It spiraled into the dark, turning at vulgar angles. On the right an irregular wall followed the steps down. On the left, down the center of the turning stair, was a hollow pit, its bottom lost in shadow. There were no railings, no holds, and Caleb’s torch, what weak light it cast, revealed only the first landing, a small platform fifty-five steps down.

  “It’s a precipitous descent,” Grug said. “So stick to the walls. Do not look over the edge. If you grow dizzy, lean toward the walls, but do not touch them. They host a pernicious fungus. It attaches itself to the skin and will devour you over weeks.”

  “So why are we going this way?” Rana said.

  Caleb stepped down into the darkness, illuminating further stairs. He had no time for hesitation. “Because this is the fastest way to the desert,” he said. Marul followed him, eager. Then came Rana, Daniel, and finally Grug.

  The torchlight made their shadows shiver along the walls as they descended. Marul and Daniel moved slowly, cautiously, but Rana moved quickly, unperturbed by the sheer drop. Mikulalim glyphs and their translations in Wul and Ytrian, greeted them at each landing, warning trespassers away with threats of dissection and slaughter. The echoes of their footfalls plunged into the deep, warning of what might happen if they lost their step and fell.

  An animal suddenly moaned from the pit below. The moan rose in volume, until the walls resonated with the sound, as if they were inside a gigantic pipe organ.

  “Goddess, what the hell is that?” Rana said.

  “My kin,” Grug said. “It is a warning.”

  “Against what?” Rana said. “I thought they’re your brothers?”

  “I’ve read the writing on the wall,” Daniel said. “They feast on the organs of trespassers.”

  “Don’t worry,” Grug said. “We’re not trespassing as long as the king is with us.”

  They continued their steep descent. Every fifty-five steps, the stairs turned sharply left, and after dozens of such landings, the effect was dizzying. Before the next landing, Rana screamed. A glistening swarm of black scorpions was racing up the stairs toward them. Their many pincers glowed in a thousand flickering shades of ultraviolet.

  “Grug!” Caleb shouted. “Hurry, use your fire!”

  But Marul had already stepped forward. She raised her hands and weaved a spell in the stagnant air. The black scorpions moved even more quickly.

  “Stupid witch!” Caleb said. “You’ve made it worse!”

  But the scorpions began bunching up at an invisible barrier, reaching for them in sped-up time. Their movement was a blur, and the animals soon lost their ultraviolet glow. They turned grey, then white, like burning wood becoming ash. And there the white creatures remained, inches from their feet, becoming a thousand scorpion-shaped piles of dust.

  Marul lowered her hands.

  Rana stepped closer, kicked the pile of dead scorpions. The pile collapsed to a fine powder that blew over the edge. “What did you do?” Rana said.

  “I sped up the flow of time for them,” Marul said, hands on her hips. “They died of old age, trapped inside their own bubble of time.”

  “How horrible,” Daniel said.

  “Horrible?” Marul said.

  “They starved only inches from their food.”

  “I should let them eat you next time!” Marul snapped. “You should be more grateful! I just saved your damned life.”

  “Sorry,” Daniel said. “Thank you, Marul.”

  “Don’t thank her yet,” Caleb said. “One problem has been replaced by another. Look at the walls.” The landing where the scorpions had lived was now overgrown with giant lumps of fungus that hadn’t been there minutes ago. Gray
-green fungal shelves oozed from the wall in staggered, overlapping layers, blocking their descent.

  “Not good,” Grug said. “If we touch the fungus with even the barest scrape, it will explode, releasing dangerous spores. If they get in your lungs or touch your skin, they’ll slowly digest you. It’s a most painful death.”

  “Can we burn them?” said Daniel.

  “No, they’ll explode,” said Grug.

  “Then we’ll just have to go around,” Caleb said.

  “Where? There’s no room!” Marul said.

  “There’s plenty of room,” Rana said, “near the edge. I’ve worked on ledges that had far less walking space than that.”

  “But you’re a mason,” Marul said. “I’m an old woman.”

  “Who just defeated an army of scorpions,” Rana said. “You don’t look so old from here.”

  Marul tossed back her hair with a hand and smiled. “Why, thank you, Rana.”

  “We have no choice,” Caleb said. “We have to go forward.”

  “We could go back,” Daniel said. “To the cliff.”

  “There’s no time,” Caleb said. “Come with me or rot here. It’s your choice.”

  “Goddess help us,” Marul said.

  Caleb made the crossing first. He would show them they had nothing to fear. Up close, the fungus resembled moldy bread. Its surface was pitted, crusty and covered with pastel rainbows of dust. White crystals glimmered on its surface. His nose came within inches of it as he walked perilously close to the edge. Carefully, he made it to the other side.

  “There!” he said. “See? It’s easy.”

  Rana came next. She crossed the landing in three quick steps. How graceful she was! But Daniel was more timid. He skirted the edge slowly, and his hand nearly brushed the fungus.

  “Daniel!” Marul said. “Watch your hand!”

  “Quiet,” Grug whispered. “Even a loud sound can release the spores.”

  Daniel made it safely across. “Now you, Marul,” Caleb said. She took a deep breath and approached the fungus. Her movements were slow, awkward. She was short enough to avoid the tallest fungal shelves, but the waist-high ones were much too close.

  “I can’t go on,” she said, frozen halfway across.

  “You have to,” Rana said.

  “Come,” Caleb said. “Your freedom awaits.”

  Her legs wobbled.

  “Careful!” Caleb said, “Your arm—”

  Marul slipped and fell. But Grug—with the speed of an insect—snatched her hand. Marul screamed. She dangled over the precipice, and only Grug’s strength kept her alive. Caleb commanded Grug in the silent tongue, Don’t drop her! I will cut you to pieces if you drop her!

  The fungus above Marul shivered, threatening to pop. Grug, with Marul hanging from his arm, walked past the mold and deposited Marul safely on the far side.

  Rana ran to Marul and hugged her. “Oh, thank Goddess!”

  “Thank Grug,” Caleb said. “He’s the one who saved you.”

  “Thank me later,” Grug said, “before this fungus decides to burst.”

  They continued their descent, turning and turning, down into that neverending darkness. Marul wheezed, while black circles, exacerbated by the shadows, grew under Daniel’s eyes.

  “You look tired,” Caleb said. “Let’s rest.”

  “How much farther?” Marul said, wiping sweat from her brow.

  Grug glanced at a glyph carved into the wall. “One thousand and forty-five steps.”

  “So many?” she said, then shook her head. “No, I won’t rest until I see the sky.”

  “Daniel?”

  “Let’s keep going,” he said.

  “You look tired,” said Caleb. “You must eat.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He didn’t look fine. He was pale and sickly and needed sustenance. The stubborn fool would learn soon enough. Caleb said, “Very well. We continue.” They continued their descent, their footfalls the only sound in the darkness.

  “Grug,” Marul said, “why didn’t you tell me about Kipod’s Stair? Is it because you were compelled to lie?”

  In the silent tongue Grug asked Caleb, May I answer her, my Lord?

  Caleb replied, You may.

  “Yes, mistress,” Grug said. “I was compelled to lie.”

  “Then I don’t begrudge you for what you had no control over.”

  “That pleases me,” he said.

  “Tell me, did you use these stairs often?”

  “Twice per day.”

  “Why so much?” she says.

  “It was my duty as your caretaker to see you well.”

  “So many things I had you fetch for me! Candles! Meat! Water! And chalk! So much chalk! What a terrible burden that must have been, carrying those things up and down this dreadful staircase, day in and day out.”

  “As far as burdens go, mistress, walking Kipod’s Stair is the least of mine. And if my king commands, I obey. It is useless to fret over something I have no power over.”

  “And what is the nature of his power over you, Grug?” Daniel said.

  “It is the same power he has over all my kin. He is our king, and we are his servants.”

  “Does he have power over your mind?” Daniel said.

  “I cannot disobey.”

  “Not even in thought?”

  As they spoke, it struck Caleb that Daniel was speaking perfect Wul, and without an accent at that. It was a spell, for certain, yet something about it was still raw, unquickened.

  Grug? Caleb asked in the silent tongue. Did you give Daniel your curse while I lay unconscious?

  Yes, my Lord, Grug replied. I was against it, but Marul insisted.

  Damn that witch, Marul! If Daniel became a Mikulal, he’d fall under Caleb’s power. That might be helpful. But if the poison quickening in his blood meant Daniel was no longer a Lamed Vavnik, his plans would be ruined, and he’d never forgive Marul for that! He studied Daniel. Are you still a Lamed Vavnik? he thought. “Grug will die for me,” Caleb said, “if I order him to.” And what will you do for me, Daniel? he thought.

  “He has no free will?” Daniel said.

  “Of course he does,” Caleb said. “He moves unmolested within his sphere of influence.”

  “But you control the boundaries of that sphere?”

  “Grug’s needs are met. And he is content, because he knows his place. How many people in this wretched Cosmos can say that?”

  “Are you content, Grug?” Daniel said.

  “Yes,” Grug said.

  “Are you sure?” Daniel said. “Or did Caleb order that response too?”

  Something screamed from the pit below, as if a mammoth creature had just been speared in the dark. Another Mikulalim warning, and likely the last.

  “Grug,” Caleb said. “Tell them who it is that approaches Yarrow, so they may prepare.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  Grug took a deep breath, then let loose a deep bellow. The sound grew into a howl, then a shriek. His voice shook the walls. Dust from above rained on their heads, when Caleb remembered the fungus, hanging so precariously.

  Rana was holding her ears. “Stop it!” Rana shouted. “Please, please, stop!”

  “She is right!” Caleb said. “Stop now!”

  Grug stopped wailing immediately, but the echoes lingered.

  “That was the worst sound I’ve ever heard,” Rana said. She looked as if she might be sick.

  Caleb stared up, into the darkness from where they’d come. “So? Did it burst, Grug?”

  “I’m afraid so, my Lord. I’m sorry. I had forgotten. Spores are raining down.”

  “How much time?”

  “We should run.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  They sprinted down the steps, and at every landing Daniel peered up into the darkness. At the farthest reaches of Caleb’s torchlight a faint cloud glimmered, like ashen snow. It was coming down.

  Daniel panted as they descended. Marul was the slowest of th
em all, and they often had to wait for her to catch up. Caleb looked up at the cloud and said, “Will we make it Grug?”

  “Marul!” Grug said. “You must walk faster!”

  Caleb was still gazing up at the cloud when Rana leaped for him, knife drawn. She was quick, but Caleb was quicker. He spun away from her jab, Rana lost her footing, and she flew out over the edge—into the pit. She screamed and fell.

  “No!” Caleb howled.

  Rana shrieked, a horrid sound, as she plunged into the dark.

  “Rana!” Marul screamed. “Ranaaaaaa!”

  “Damn her!” Caleb said. “Damn her!”

  Grug dropped to the ground and stuck his head over the edge. Above them the fungal cloud inched closer. Grug moaned so loudly that Daniel had to struggle to hold in his bowels. The walls rattled, dust shook free, and rained down after Rana.

  “Rana!” Marul cried. “Ranaaaaaa!”

  Grug kept moaning. The fungal cloud, gray and scintillating, roiled a hundred feet above. Sound waves rippled across its surface as it slowed, stopped. Grug kept up that horrid sound, and the cloud began to ascend back into the darkness. Daniel dreaded the other sound that he knew was coming. Rana splatting against stone. But it never came.

  Rana’s scream abruptly ceased. Grug stopped his dreadful sound. The echoes faded, and but for their sharp panting the air was quiet. Daniel felt sick with fear.

  Marul faced Grug. “You saved her?” she said, shaking him. “Didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

  Caleb pushed Marul away and grabbed the corpse-man. “Well? Does Rana live or not?”

  “I’m not sure, my lord,” Grug said, peering over the edge. “I hoped to cushion her fall with my voice. The shock may have knocked her unconscious, or . . .”

  Marul tugged at her hair. “Oh, Rana . . .”

  “You idiotic, impetuous, girl!” Caleb shouted over the edge. “You foolish, naive child! Why would you do such a stupid thing?”

  “Goddess,” Marul said, looking up, “Great Mollai, Giver of Rain and Succor, I beg you, bring Rana back to me! She’s just a girl.” Marul leaned over the pit and shouted, “Rana? Are you there? Can you hear me?” Only echoes returned. She turned and punched Caleb in the arm. “Beast! Vile demon! Why did you leap out of the way? Why did you let her die?”