Geas of the Black Axe (Legends of the Nameless Dwarf Book 2)

by D. P. Prior

  When Shader shrugged, he explained:

  “Fish with beast, plant with man, that kind of thing. It was early days and inestimably crude, but we all have to start somewhere. Their strategy was that a face-to-face meeting would render me vulnerable to Aristodeus’s silver tongue. Find out what your opponent wants, he believed, and you can talk your way into a compromise agreement. I imagine he underestimated my goal, and the bioethics commission overestimated his capacity for debate.

  “But enough of him. You, Deacon Shader, have been quite the nuisance. Tell me, why didn’t you end this atop the mesa when you had the chance? No, hold your answer.” He pointed at Rhiannon. “Mephesch, the woman next.”

  “Technocrat,” Mephesch said, rapidly tapping at his vambrace and raising it to his mouth.

  “Rhiannon?” Shader said. “You’re going to kill—?”

  —Jags of lightning arced beneath Nameless’s skin; rills of lava scalded his thews. His head snapped up, and he sucked in a chill blast of air that filled his lungs to bursting.

  It was happening again…

  “She won’t feel a thing,” Gandaw said. “And besides, in a few more minutes, everything she’s ever known will cease to exist. Think of it as a mercy killing.”

  —The Ephebe’s five walls dropped down around Nameless. There were seven Red Cloaks. One of them touched Cordy…

  A nozzle emerged from the silver sphere holding Rhiannon aloft.

  —He hit the shogger. The rest turned on him. That was the first time his blood flared…

  “No,” Shader muttered. He started to draw the gladius, but he was too late, and his ‘No’ became a scream.

  Nameless surged to his feet, and in the same movement, he flung his axe with such force, it streaked like a comet.

  Metal clashed with metal, and the sphere exploded in a shower of sparks. Silver shrapnel clattered down, and Nameless’s axe fell with it, clanging as it struck the floor, and skittering off till it came to rest against a wall.

  —Seven Red Cloaks down and bleeding. Cordy aghast. Later, she joked he was a Dwarf Lord, like his pa claimed Yyalla was; but everyone thought Droom was just a doting husband who placed his wife on a pedestal…

  Rhiannon seemed to hang in midair for a second, then she dropped like a stone. Shader lurched toward her, but she was too far away. She tucked her knees in, rolled as she hit, and came up smoothly.

  She moved like a cat, and the veins along her biceps stood out in ridges as she took hold of the black sword and wrenched it free of the metal crab-thing.

  “That the shogger?” Nameless said, stumbling toward her and pointing up at Gandaw. “Doesn’t look like much to me.”

  The fabric of Gandaw’s coat ripped as he swelled from within. His entire frame shuddered, and then he expanded again. The coat and the gray tunic beneath disintegrated, swirling about him in a cloud of dust. Where his chest should have been, there was now a black breastplate, flecked with green. His legs and arms were encased in scarolite, too, and the air around his head grew denser, solidifying into a clear, crystal dome.

  “Ah,” Nameless said. “Lassie, pass us my axe, would you?”

  Rhiannon backed away to the wall, black sword held tightly in white-knuckled hands. Without taking her eyes from Gandaw, she used her foot to shunt Nameless’s axe across the floor to him.

  As Mephesch ran for cover, Gandaw raised his gloved hand and extended the palm. The glove smoldered and fell away to reveal metallic fingers, each tipped with fiercely sparking crystals. Lightning arced between them, and the hand glowed white-hot. With quick stabbing movements, he aimed first at Rhiannon and then at Nameless.

  Balls of fire streaked toward them both. Rhiannon dived, but the blast drove her head first into a console.

  Nameless could barely walk, never mind run, but he saw the fireball coming a mile off and ducked. It sped over his head to explode against the floor.

  Gandaw spun toward Shader and unleashed a barrage of missiles. The first was wide.

  Shader sprinted for a console and hunkered down behind the bat-winged woman seated there. The second fireball struck where he’d been standing a split second before.

  Shader emerged from cover and held the gladius in front of him. When the third fireball hit, the shortsword threw the full brunt of the blast straight back at Gandaw. It exploded against the edge of his disk and sent him plummeting toward the floor. Grapnels shot out from his armor and snagged a railing, reeling him in. Effortlessly, he took hold of the rail and vaulted over it, landing with a resonant clang on the walkway.

  “Rather attached to her, aren’t you?” Gandaw nodded down toward where Rhiannon was slumped over the console. “Not quite the same disinterest you showed for the philosopher. So, you see, already I have more data on you. And your sword—a weapon that can both nullify and redirect energy. More stolen technology?”

  “Don’t answer, laddie,” Nameless said. “He’s stalling.” He must have needed more time to complete the Unweaving. Time they couldn’t afford to lose. “I say we get up there and see how well he talks when I cut him a second mouth with my axe.”

  Gandaw stepped back from the railing and cast his eyes back and forth. For a moment, he took on the appearance of a cornered rat. Within seconds, though, he resumed an air of calm confidence. With the ghost of a smile, he said, “Mephesch, the bat-meldings, if you please. Release them.”

  The homunculus popped up from behind a console and ran his fingers over the mirror.

  Nameless couldn’t fathom the homunculus. He’d thought Mephesch was helping them. Was he frightened of disobeying a direct order, or was this something else? Wasn’t it the nature of the homunculi to deceive? If he’d betrayed Gandaw, why wouldn’t he do the same to others?

  Shader started to run at Mephesch, but he was too late. With a cry, he flung the gladius like a javelin. The homunculus ducked behind the console, and the sword flew overhead.

  The women hunched over the consoles jerked and unfurled their wings. As Mephesch got up and ran, Shader’s gladius turned in a wide arc and shot toward him. Mephesch dived—and passed straight through the wall, as if it weren’t there. The gladius drew up sharp, then reversed direction until it slapped back into Shader’s palm.

  The bat-meldings flapped furiously a couple of feet above their chairs and let out ululating screams as the wires that connected them to their consoles ripped free in sprays of blood.

  Shader stood there in a daze, but Nameless directed the eye-slit of the great helm to the root of their problems.

  “Gandaw, laddie!” he cried. “Your sword!”

  This time, Shader simply slackened his grip, and the Sword of the Archon launched itself through the air.

  Gandaw threw up both hands and instinctively ducked, but even before the blade reached him, it struck something solid and rebounded. For a brief moment, a sphere of blue light flickered around the Technocrat and then vanished.

  Shader snatched the returning gladius from the air as the winged women on the lower levels screeched and flew at Gandaw. More of the creatures flocked overhead, gathering into a tightly packed wedge and diving.

  Gandaw scattered them with a fireball, and the few that pressed their attack squawked as they struck his invisible barrier. In a great cacophony of beating wings and cawing cries, they spiraled about the chamber in a frenzy, crashing into walls and bumping off the apex, as if all they wanted was to break out.

  “I should have seen that coming,” Gandaw said through gritted teeth. “Just need to teach them who’s master, that’s all.”

  He exploded a fireball against the ceiling, obliterating the lone mirror that hung there. Half a dozen winged women dropped, smoldering and lifeless, hitting railings, bouncing, and ending up crumpled on the floor.

  The rest descended like a murder of crows onto the ground floor consoles. Their caws turned into mournful wails, and they started to rip out tufts of their own hair with long-taloned fingers. They scratched at their breasts, leaving trails of crimso
n down their torsos. Their legs, Nameless could see now, were like a bird’s, with three claws at the front and one at the back.

  Shader spun round as Gandaw detonated another fireball, above and behind the bat-meldings. The women let out a collective squawk and took to the air once more. They wheeled as one toward Gandaw, then shied away. They circled Shader, passed over Nameless, and looked like they were starting to regroup for a concerted attack, when the squawking took on a different sound: less frenetic; more triumphant. And then, in a mass of beating wings, they swooped toward Rhiannon’s unmoving body.

  Shader started to run, but Nameless had already seen it, and he was closer.

  He barreled in among the winged women, scything about with his axe. Each swing drove them back a few paces, but they instantly flapped closer again. Talons slashed at him. Fangs snapped. The flock descended upon him, but a few alighted on the console Rhiannon was draped over.

  Shader hurled the gladius, shearing the head clean off a bat-winged woman. As the sword returned to his hand, he reached Rhiannon and dragged her back from the console, letting her slump to the floor at his feet.

  Nameless burst through the cloud of wings, whirled back to face it, shook his axe, and roared.

  The bat-meldings dispersed, but then they flew behind him in an arc and came down at Shader.

  “Sorry, laddie!” Nameless yelled above the din. “Unintentional.”

  The gladius was a dazzling blur as Shader cut and chopped, hacked and slashed in every direction. He ducked, wheeled, spun, and kicked, taking in every move the meldings made, predicting every attack. The sword seemed featherlight in his hand, yet each blow he delivered was brutal, solid, and utterly devastating.

  Nameless’s axe rose and fell with whuffs of effort. Mostly, he was just hitting air as the women flapped and fluttered away from his strikes, but then he found his timing and started to aim a little ahead of, a little behind the target. Blood showered down on him. Women squawked. Bat-wings flapped furiously.

  On the next tier up, Gandaw hurried along the walkway toward a metal staircase. He was heading back to the top.

  A woman raked her claws across Shader’s coat collar, narrowly missing his throat. He backhanded it away, and as it gathered for a renewed attack, he plunged the gladius between its breasts.

  “Get Gandaw!” he cried toward Nameless. “I’ll hold them!”

  “Got you, laddie!” Nameless shouted back.

  Clutching his axe to his chest, he ducked down and charged through the chaos of wings.

  A melding followed him, clawing from behind, but Nameless twisted, turned, and swung for it with almost casual grace. The woman fell to the floor in two pieces, and Nameless reached the steps and started upward.

  As he made the next walkway, he glanced down.

  The meldings assailing Shader rose into the air. At first, Nameless thought they were coming for him, but then they began to circle, cawing mournfully at the mass of dead bodies heaped on the floor.

  Nameless pounded along the walkway. Gandaw was already halfway up the steps to the next level.

  Down below, Shader dragged Rhiannon from beneath a pile of bat-meldings. He steadied her by the elbow and shoved her toward the steps as the winged women dived once more. He hacked one out of the air as it sped at Rhiannon, but another made it past. He called out a warning, but she was already in mid-swing, and the black blade sliced into human flesh, exiting through the leathery membrane of a bat-like wing.

  Gandaw reached the top of the steps as Nameless started up them. His axe clattered against the railings as he climbed in pursuit. Gandaw let off a fireball, but Nameless swayed aside, and coruscating sparks sprayed across the walkway below.

  A reverberating clunk sounded from above, and the room was plunged into shadow.

  The bat meldings squawked and flew toward the ceiling.

  Mephesch was standing over a console at the floor of the chamber.

  Above, Sektis Gandaw stopped and stared up at the ceiling with a look of horror on his usually impassive face.

  “No!” he cried. “Mephesch! Mephesch, what is happening? We are not shielded!”

  A hole had opened up, and the walls at the top of the cone were slowly receding into the level below. A fierce wind blew down the funnel, buffeting the bat-meldings as they swarmed through the aperture and out into the black.

  Because that was all Nameless could see: a sphere of absolute darkness hanging above the Perfect Peak, pulsing like a gigantic, malevolent heart. With every beat, it swelled and grew denser. Its oppressive weight was almost tangible, and a sickening wave of wrongness rolled through Nameless, sending him reeling back against the railing.

  Beneath him, Rhiannon stumbled and clutched her stomach as she gazed up at the burgeoning dark. Shader looped his arm in hers. His face hardened with resolve.

  The walls of the cone continued to retract. As they passed beneath Shader and Rhiannon, Nameless saw just how dense they were, each level sitting within that below in concentric circles, each with its own rooms and passageways sandwiched between twin walls of scarolite at least ten feet thick.

  Down and down they went, level by level, until the heart of the chamber, with its tiered walkways and flickering screens, was little more than a skeletal framework, completely exposed to the raging elements.

  Nameless looked down over the railing and felt himself swaying.

  They were hundreds of feet up, atop what was now the truncated summit of the Perfect Peak. Far below, the white sands of what had to be the Dead Lands swirled and formed into tortuous vortices that spun wildly in every direction. Mangroves at the edge of a swamp were stretched to impossible heights and bowed beyond breaking point. The gloaming skies were fractured, like broken glass, and way off in the distance, a cordon of shimmering fog whirled dizzyingly up into the heights, ever expanding to engulf more and more of the hazy, unreal landscape.

  Gandaw was transfixed by the scene. Transfixed and horrified, judging by the way he just held the railing and gawped. Everything he had worked for was coming to fruition outside. But he was mortified to be caught up in it himself, stripped of the protection of his scarolite mountain and whatever magical shields it had before Mephesch lowered the defenses.

  Nameless hurtled at Gandaw and swept his axe down. There was a scintillant blue flash, and the axe head lodged within the coruscating egg of light that sprang up to surround the Technocrat. Nameless hung on with both hands and pushed his boots against the sphere in an effort to free the axe.

  Gandaw swung his metal hand round. Lightning arced between crystal-tipped fingers. Flame swelled upon his palm.

  Nameless winced in anticipation of the impact.

  Something huge and dark smashed into Gandaw from above. His protective sphere spat blue motes, buckled, and fizzed out.

  And Nameless yelped as he fell on his arse, still clutching his axe.

  Gandaw was momentarily stricken, staring wide-eyed at the massive black fist that had struck him.

  Down below, a fearsome clamor arose as hundreds of lizard-men swarmed into the chamber from the top of the truncated mountain. They must have been there all along, Nameless realized, clinging to the outer casing until the walls were lowered. More of Mephesch’s scheming? More duplicity? One of them—their leader?—was making a fist with a smoking gauntlet.

  “Skeyr Magnus!” Shader and Rhiannon exclaimed at the same time.

  The lizard man made a jabbing motion with the gauntlet, and the giant fist responded by hammering into Gandaw.

  The Technocrat crashed through the railing but managed to cling on with his desiccated hand. From the other, he discharged a barrage of fireballs that sent the black hand spinning away.

  Nameless leapt to his feet and ran at Gandaw, swinging the axe down at the hand holding onto the railing. A coil snaked out of Gandaw’s armor and wrapped around Nameless’s ankles, tripping him and whipping him into the air. Nameless hacked through the coil and fell, landing heavily.

  Gandaw u
sed both hands to pull himself up and back onto the walkway.

  The lizard-men ran, leapt, and bounded, some of them scaling the railings in their frenzy to get at Gandaw. Shader and Rhiannon were swept along by the horde until they reached the steps and climbed up.

  The black hand righted itself and soared back toward Gandaw. This time, he blasted it almost casually and then tapped out a sequence on his vambrace as the hand was repulsed once more.

  The first of the lizard-men to reach him, he backhanded with such force it ripped the creature’s head clean off. He kicked another straight through the railing and out above the Dead Lands, where it flailed and screamed as it plummeted toward the ground hundreds of feet below. Just as the main tide threatened to hit him, though, Gandaw took a step back, let off another fireball, and then ran for the steps to the next level.

  A trio of silver spheres rose out of the Dead Lands and tore into the lizard-men with sizzling bursts of lightning. Clouds of smoke plumed up, carrying the stench of roasted flesh and ozone. The lizard-men panicked and scattered, seeking the cover of consoles, chairs, the bodies of the fallen, but the spheres pursued them relentlessly, cutting them down in their tracks.

  As Shader and Rhiannon made it to Nameless and helped him to stand, Gandaw joined in the massacre, blasting down into the lizard-men, and then he sent a devastating volley straight at Skeyr Magnus, who was still on the ground floor, no doubt letting his people take the bulk of the risks for him. Skeyr Magnus threw his gauntlet up to cover his face, and the black hand instantly appeared in front of him, fingers splayed, palm facing the onslaught. The fireballs exploded against it, and for a moment, it looked like the lizard-man would survive, but then his gauntlet burst into flames and sent sparks shooting across his skin. With a howl and a scream, he was slammed into the floor and lay there smoldering. The black hand winked out of existence.