Finally, she saw her: Ether was standing before a large, heavy door. She had changed back to human form, and seemed to be contemplating something. She turned to Ivy, a look of mild disappointment on her face.
"What are you doing here, fool?" she demanded.
"You have to leave. You'll be hurt. You'll be killed!" Ivy urged, tugging desperately at Ether's arm.
Ether pulled away.
"Calm yourself, beast. There is nothing here or anywhere in this world that can threaten me. Least of all this place. The D'karon have gone from here. Only their creations remain," she said.
"They have? Then . . . then we don't need to be here. We can go . . . before they come back," Ivy said, relief in her voice. The piercing blue aura about her began to fade.
"No. There is a dark magic at work here. A powerful one. I cannot allow it to continue its work," Ether said.
"Yes! Yes you can! We can go! Please! Before something goes wrong!" Ivy begged, the bright blue light surging back.
"You are pathetic," Ether sneered.
"What was that?" Ivy gasped, turning to the source of a noise.
"I heard nothing," Ether said.
"Well, turn into something with better ears! There is something scratching around in this room," Ivy demanded.
Ether ignored her, turning to the door before her. It was the first door she had encountered since entering the fort. Whatever lay beyond it was considered more valuable than all that preceded it. There were plenty of cracks around the door, and even a barred view hole. She should have been able to flow through it with ease in her wind form, but she had been turned away. There was some locking spell, an impressively powerful one, preventing her from moving forward. Runes were inscribed on the door as well, no doubt the source of the enchantment. Undoing the spell would be no simple task.
She touched the door, recoiling almost immediately. The spell that protected the door and the far more powerful one that had drawn her here were . . . unnatural. They seemed to reverberate with a familiar tone, but horribly twisted, perverted.
Ivy shifted uneasily from foot to foot, sensitive ears trained to the silence, simultaneously seeking and dreading the scratching she'd heard before. As she did, she slowly began to notice the surroundings she had been so dutifully ignoring. This floor was filled with orderly rows of shelves. Upon the shelves, in labeled progressions, were sequences of body parts of advancing quality and detail.
Nearest to her was a row of skulls. The first was a human skull, the word Man etched in a plate beneath it. Next to it were a line of eight others collectively labeled Altered Intellectual Dominant, with each skull additionally labeled with a "Revision" number. Scratched beneath the embossed label was the word Nearman. The gruesome sight was repeated a dozen times over on the other shelves and even lining the wall, where a dragon skull hung beside no less than fifteen attempted duplicates, the last few resembling the horrid dragoyle.
Ivy struggled to keep her fear in check.
"Would you hurry! Break the door down! Do what you have to do so we can leave this place!" Ivy pleaded.
"I must first determine what we may find behind the door, so that I might take the form best suited to face it," Ether said.
"It is the workshop and laboratory," Ivy said.
"How would you know that?" Ether scoffed.
"It says it on the door!" Ivy said, pointing at the arcane writing word by word as she spoke the words again. "Workshop and laboratory! And then a recipe or something! Please, Ether, just do what you want to do, or tell me what to do and I'll do it. I can't take this place."
"How can you read that? Why would they teach you their language?" Ether asked accusingly.
"I don't know, maybe they didn't mean to! What does it matter? Just open the door!" she demanded, punctuating her demand with a mighty thrust kick to the door.
There was a burst of orange light and Ivy cried out in pain amid a crackle of energy. She was sent hurtling backward, skidding to a stop near the stairs at the other side of the room. The blue aura that had surrounded her and illuminated the room was dimmed to nothing. She groaned dizzily, flat on her back and dazed.
Ether looked to the door. It hung precariously from one hinge, the other broken. Whatever enchantment had protected it was spent. Ether cast a swift glance toward Ivy, shaking her head slightly. Quickly, she turned to stone and passed through the doorway, making her way through the pitch-blackness.
#
Many floors above, Myranda scrambled to catch up to Lain. Floor after floor of monstrous beasts streaked by her. The ancient wooden floor boards creaked and groaned. Each footfall kicked up a puff of dust and dry rotten wood. Myranda wondered briefly why such a massive place would have been built of wood when the others were stone. Suddenly, as she was about to emerge from yet another staircase, a hand yanked her back. The hand covered the glowing gem on her staff, obscuring the light. A voice whispered in her ear.
"Douse the light and be silent," he said.
It was Lain. She obeyed, and was soon shrouded in utter darkness. He whispered again, his words barely louder than her pounding heart.
"Stay here, and stay perfectly still," he warned.
Myranda did as she was told. She did not hear anything. She didn't hear Lain leave her side. She didn't hear him navigate the room in complete darkness. The next sound she heard was a peculiar squeal cut short. A few moments later, the voice was in her ear again.
"Restore the light--slowly," he instructed.
The crisp, bluish-white light of the staff slowly grew bright enough for Myranda to see Lain drop a small, bat-like creature to the ground. Myranda could not discern any more details before he mashed it into paste with his heel. He closed his eyes and listened intently before continuing forward.
"What was that?" Myranda asked.
"A watcher. I've only encountered them a handful of times before. Expect opposition momentarily," he said.
With that, Lain resumed his swift pursuit of Ivy. Myranda was puzzled by the statement, but followed as quickly as she could. There had been nothing but frozen field for as far as the eye could see in all directions, but if he was not taking the time to explain, Myranda hardly thought it wise to take the time to question. It was a warning, and these days a warning was a luxury.
Myranda had scarcely made it to the next floor when the mysterious threat presented itself. Out from the wooden slats at each corner of the room slipped a cloak. Then another, then another. Suddenly there was a dozen of them. Swiftly, the disembodied garments began to circle about Myranda, slipping between and over the shelves that filled the floor. Myranda conjured a flame, the only truly effective weapon against these wraiths, but doused it immediately. If she was to use fire here, she would have to take great care. The wood was decrepit and bone-dry. It would catch fire even more readily than the cloaks.
She rushed to the doorway after Lain. As she did, she placed her staff behind her back and willed some of the fabric of her own cloak, shredded and loose from overuse, into a bow to hold it in place. While still maintaining the light it provided, she then reached into her bag and brandished a knife in each hand. Dodging the swipe of a phantom claw and delivering a retaliatory slash, she slipped into the stairway and continued on. The creatures, save for when they chose to screech their terrifying cry, moved almost silently. There was no way of knowing how near they were, and once they were a fair distance from Myranda's light, the black cloth blended seamlessly with the darkness.
Myranda focused on moving forward. She had to avoid being surrounded before reaching the others.
#
Behind her, Ether heard the occasional shriek of a cloak, but she quickly dismissed it. The room that surrounded her was far more deserving of her attention. Leading down from the door was a long flight of stairs to the floor below. A small fire in a stone fireplace cast a dim glow. Over it was a cauldron simmering a foul-smelling fluid. Opposite the fire, barely visible in the dim light, was a tablet inscribed with more of the sa
me runes. It was undoubtedly the source of the truly remarkable amount of raw power that seemed to permeate this place.
Stands held books with immaculate and detailed sketches of dozens of beasts, each labeled and described in the same arcane runes that had labeled the door. Just past the foot of the stairs was a narrow channel in the floor that seemed to have no purpose. A large platform stood in the center of the room. Upon it a now-unrecognizable creature lay, separated with a surgeon's skill into neat piles. The faint brown stains of blood could be seen on the surface of the platform. Tall glass jars contained most of what had once flowed through the creature's veins. An array of instruments and tools were laid out with care on a tray. The curving blades and needle-sharp claws conjured to mind images of their use that would haunt the mind of a normal being.
Everything in the room had a meticulous, obsessive feel to it--and the feel that life was meaningless to the person who created such a place. Ether's eyes turned to the far wall. Instantly, a fury began to build inside of her. There, like forgotten playthings, were a handful of nameless abominations. They stood motionless, just as all that she had passed in her descent, but these were different. They bore no resemblance to anything of this world. The products of a madman's cruel mind or a twisted reality, the creatures were an affront to Ether's very existence--masses of tentacles, pincers, and spidery legs in configurations that defied logic.
Ether stalked toward them, preparing to destroy the creatures, when a bright light and astounding power appeared behind her. She turned to see a disc of what looked to be darkness itself swirling into existence. It grew until its edge dipped into the channel in the floor. Slowly, the center of the disc parted like smoke, and there could be seen the form of a man. He stepped forward and emerged from the portal. Quickly, with a loud, thundering clap, the portal closed.
Ether surveyed the man. He was thin, almost gaunt. His clothes were of fine cloth, with no armor to speak of, and stained with various unidentifiable fluids. Around his neck hung a large piece of fractured crystal, faintly glowing blue. His hair was dark, with a peppering of gray. His skin was pale. Long, thin fingers gripped loosely the head of a silvery weapon. It was the size of a staff, but tapered into a blade along its length. Four similar weapons hung from his back, each head adorned with four tiny crystals, each crystal dim with blue light. He was a head shorter than Ether's current form.
The man who stood before her, in appearance, was no threat. In presence, however, the same could not be said. He didn't so much look at Ether as analyze her. His eyes were intense, piercing. There was no hint of fear. He seemed to radiate a feeling of command, of superiority.
"The shapeshifter. The watcher announced only the malthrope. Properly training it to identify a shapeshifter in an elemental form may prove an intriguing challenge," he remarked.
"Are you the one responsible for creating these monstrosities?" Ether demanded, pointing a finger at the twisted creatures behind her.
"I am," he stated.
"Then it is my duty to destroy you. You have bastardized nature itself," Ether proclaimed.
"Yes, yes. So you say. If you wish to do battle, I must request that we do so outside of this place. It is quite near to my records room, and I am not quite certain I have created duplicates of all of my notes," he said.
"Ether, something is happening upstairs! I think the others need our help! We--" came Ivy's voice from the doorway, but it swiftly caught in her throat.
The man turned.
"Welcome home, wayward one," he said, almost pleasantly.
Ether took full advantage of his distraction. She swung her stone fist with all of her might at the stranger's head. In a flash, the four staffs on his back extended, splitting into segments. Insect-like legs extended from along the length. The edge of the silvery things reached the floor and planted themselves. Ether's fist clanked off of their bodies uselessly. Before she could attempt a second blow, three of the creature weapons weaved like metal centipedes to her. Two wrapped around her ankles, digging their legs into hers, and buried the tips of their tails deep into the floor. The third planted the rows of legs nearest to its head and curled its tail like that of a scorpion, striking again and again.
#
A few floors above, Myranda finally reached Lain. Several dozen cloaks had been left in shreds on the floor, but dozens more stood between him and the next flight of stairs. The creatures had been keeping their distance until now, picking at their targets as they had in the past. This was different. They were united in a frenzy to keep Lain from this next door, and they were succeeding.
In her fight to reach this far, Myranda had felt the rake of the black claws of these creatures more than once, and she knew well that if Lain's sword and skill were not enough to quell the tide, her own blades would do precious little good. She had to use fire, but first she had to protect the ancient tinderbox that surrounded them from it.
"Keep them from me for just a few moments," she said, shutting her eyes and trusting that he could do so.
Lain shifted his stance, swatting the creatures away instead of trying to strike them down. Quickly, Myranda's plan became clear. The temperature of the room was dropping dramatically. As she drew the heat from the walls, floor, and ceiling, frost began to form. She pushed the spell as far as it would go, until the wood was fairly white with ice.
"Now don't let them leave," she said.
She unleashed all of the stolen heat, combined with as much as her mind could conjure at once, at the swirling swarm of cloaks. They took eagerly to flame, rising in a chorus of unholy screeches. Like paper thrown on a fire, the creatures flitted madly about, knocking the shelves to the ground. They charged at the pair of heroes, but never attempted to flee through the door they defended. Myranda deflected a few with a hasty shield spell, and Lain dispatched the rest in huge swaths with mighty swings of his sword. The injured creatures needed barely a slice to finish the job the fire had started and rob them of their will. Once that damage had been done, they fluttered uselessly to the floor where they sizzled at the frost and smoldered.
Before long, all that remained of the army of cloth wraiths was a cloud of choking smoke and a mound of charred embers. Lain sped through the smoke toward the door and Myranda followed, the mystic exertion reminding her of the tremendous spell that had disoriented her earlier.
#
Below, Ivy remembered why she had come there, and rushed down the stairs in an attempt to free Ether from her predicament. The centipedes were taking their toll on her. The strikes of the steel tail were chipping easily away at her stone body, and the blasted things were far too fast for her to strike at. As Ether reached her, the man gestured to the remaining two weapon creatures. They responded to the wordless command and flowed up the stairs, raising the door back into place. They then each planted their legs into the door and the wall, barring it with their bodies.
Ivy, the glow about her a piercing blue again, walked in a wide, cautious circle around the man, who did not assume the slightest of defensive postures. Slowly, he walked to a shelf on one wall. He opened a box upon it and pocketed a number of objects from inside. As he did, he spoke casually to Ivy, who was fruitlessly swatting her weapon at the attacking centipede.
"I see you carry a club. You were given the strength for such a weapon, but I would have expected a more elegant one," he said. "We never trained you with a club."
"Shut up!" Ivy demanded. "You were there. You were one of the teachers!"
"Mmm. Teachers. My little experiment, I am so much more than your teacher," he said.
"What did you call me?" she asked. The word seemed to cut her deep.
"Experiment. Altered Chosen Revision IV. The fourth attempt, and the only one with any degree of true success, though the second and third are not without their usefulness--and, with you as a prototype, the fifth is looking very promising indeed," he said.
"What are you saying?" Ivy cried, storming up to him and shouting in his face. The aura around
her shifted sharply to red.
"One moment please," he requested casually, utterly unconcerned. He pulled from his pocket a gem the size of a small stone and held it up.
Ether had grown weary of weathering the attacks and grip of the centipedes and shifted to wind. Her turbulent form streaked at the stranger, who thrust the crystal forward. The instant Ether came in contact with the gem, she cried out in pain, the stone quickly taking on a bright white glow. More of her windy form streamed off and into the heart of the gem as long as Ether remained near it, and the effect it was having on her was clear. The intensity of the wind that was her body decreased significantly.
Finally, she pulled away, greatly weakened by the encounter. The gem maintained its brightness as he pocketed it. He snapped his fingers and the three centipedes formerly attacking Ether clattered along the walls and to the ceiling, where Ether hung recovering. The four small gems that shone like eyes on the heads of the creatures, Ether soon found, were of the same type as the one used to weaken her. Ether flitted fruitlessly about the room in an attempt to escape them, but the fleet-footed creatures were everywhere, it seemed.
"I am Demont. I am responsible for designing and producing some of the finest living weapons in creation, and you are unique among them. I really should work with Epidime more often. The direct link between body and spirit was a stroke of genius. Permitting the most basic of functions of the brain access to the vast reservoir of energy the soul has to offer makes even the most feeble mind capable of devastation," he mused.
"I'm not an experiment! I'm Ivy! You didn't make me! You couldn't have!" Ivy raged.
"Ivy, eh? Well, the body is my work. Nature must take the credit for the soul," he said.
Ether could not avoid the constant assault by her attackers. Soon she felt that she could not hold together any longer and dropped to the ground. One of the creatures dropped down beside her and Ether's form wrapped in an intense cyclone about the beast. There were a few moments of chaos, then silence, and where there had been three creatures, there were now four. The remaining centipedes ceased their attack, unsure of which was their foe.
The Book of Deacon Anthology Page 75