by Tim Waggoner
“Did you enjoy that? It’s a little taste of Xoriat chaos energy. Don’t worry. You’ll recover in due course, though I’ll be long gone by then.” He paused and tilted his head, as if considering. “You know, I really should kill you right now while you’re helpless. I have a sneaking suspicion that it would make my life much easier if I did. But then again, what would be the fun in that? Farewell, Lirra.”
“Hold, artificer!”
Lirra couldn’t move her head to turn toward Rhedyn, but he quickly stepped into her line of sight, cloaked in shadow and gripping his sword. Seeing him filled Lirra with hope. It seemed he had finally shaken off the effect of whatever had held him motionless, and he was ready to rejoin the fight.
Elidyr looked at the warrior for a long moment, his eyes dancing with amusement, and Lirra couldn’t help feeling her uncle was laughing inside at some private joke. Then he raised his left hand once more.
“You really need to pay more attention, Rhedyn. Didn’t you hear what I just told Lirra?”
Elidyr unleashed a fresh blast of chaos energy at Rhedyn, and the warrior’s dark aspect vanished, as if his shadow sibling had retreated deep within his body, and he collapsed to the floor.
Without another word, Elidyr turned and walked out of the chamber, moving with an unhurried gait and humming brightly to himself. Lirra, still suffering the aftereffects of the chaos energy Elidyr had attacked her with, was too weak to do anything more but glare at her uncle as he departed. She made a vow to herself at that moment—the instant she could stand again, she was going after him.
A weak thought drifted into her mind from the tentacle whip. That’s my girl …
Vaddon opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but he felt a gentle hand on his forehead urge him back down.
“After what you’ve been through, you need to rest,” Ksana said.
An old joke from his days commanding a regiment of undead came back to him, and he uttered it without thinking. “I’ll rest when I’m dead—and maybe not even then.” He pushed the cleric’s hand away and sat up, though he was unable to keep himself from groaning as he did so. You’re getting old, soldier, he thought, and not for the first time. “What happened? I don’t—”
A quick glance around the chamber brought his memory back in a sudden rush.
Lirra!
All weakness fled at the thought of his daughter, and the general rose to his feet, sword in hand, ready to fight. But another glance around the chamber revealed that the battle was already finished. Seven of his men and women lay dead—the volunteers for the experiment and those who’d been selected to guard them. Only Osten still lived. The young soldier was sitting up, fingers gently probing a ragged wound at the base of his throat. Sinnoch stood next to the Overmantle—which seemed to have been deactivated, thank the Host—but there was no sign of Elidyr. Rhedyn crouched on his hands and knees, struggling to stand but having a hard time of it. Vaddon had no idea what had happened to the lad, but it seemed something had knocked the starch out of him. And then he saw Lirra, and the sight of her nearly broke his heart. She stood not far from Rhedyn, and while she looked none too steady on her legs, she appeared to be uninjured. Vaddon was grateful for that, but the sight of the tentacle whip fused to her flesh filled him with almost unbearable sorrow. The general was in charge of the Outguard’s project, and Lirra was his second in command. They were supposed to oversee the experiments at the lodge, not actually take part in them, not like this. The thought of his daughter’s body being joined with an aberration—being one with it—made him feel physically ill, and he would go to the grave before he’d allow Lirra to be afflicted with an inhuman parasite a moment longer.
Vaddon picked up his sword from the floor, rose to his feet through a sheer effort of will and started toward his daughter. Ksana stood and without a word headed over to tend to Osten. Undoubtedly the cleric would’ve preferred Vaddon continue resting, but she understood why he had to do this, and so she said nothing.
Vaddon cautiously approached his daughter, mindful of the way the symbionts had taken over the bodies of their hosts during the experiment. Was Lirra in control of her body or was the tentacle whip?
“Lirra … can you hear me?” he asked.
She faced the chamber entrance, as if she were looking at something—or perhaps for something—but the doorway was empty. She didn’t respond right away, and Vaddon tightened his hand on his sword, fearing the worst. But then she slowly turned to look at him. Vaddon expected her features to be twisted by the evil of the symbiont attached to her, but he was surprised to see how normal she looked. Her skin was paler than usual, but Vaddon was well familiar with the expression of grim determination on his daughter’s face, and for the first time since seeing the tentacle whip attack Lirra, he allowed himself to hope that her iron will had allowed her to resist the aberration’s attempts to usurp control of her body.
“He got away, Father.”
There was an undercurrent of anger to Lirra’s words that Vaddon found disturbing.
“Who did?” But even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. There was only one person missing from the chamber.
“Elidyr.” Lirra practically spat her uncle’s name. “I was just about to go after him. He can’t have gotten far. If we hurry, we’ll be able to catch him.”
Without waiting for Vaddon to reply, she turned and started toward the chamber door. The tentacle whip was coiled around her left forearm, its barbed tip quivering in the air, as if the symbiont was excited by the prospect of the hunt to come.
“Wait!”
Vaddon hurried toward Lirra as fast as his armor would allow. Lirra stopped and turned back around to face him, but the instant Vaddon was within striking distance, the tentacle whip uncoiled from around Lirra’s forearm and lashed toward him. Vaddon quickly raised an armored forearm to block the aberration’s attack, but he needn’t have bothered. Lirra yanked her left arm backward violently, throwing off the tentacle whip’s aim, and the barbed tip missed Vaddon’s face by several feet.
“He’s not a threat!” Lirra snapped.
At first Vaddon had no idea who she was talking to, but then he realized that she was addressing the tentacle whip. From what Elidyr had told him back when they first began the symbiont project, the aberrations possessed a certain amount of intelligence, could understand spoken language, and even communicate telepathically with their hosts, if only in a rudimentary way. But hearing his own daughter speak to one of the damned things as if she were scolding a misbehaving hound deeply disturbed him.
But her words had the desired effect. The whip—somewhat reluctantly, Vaddon thought—drew its length back toward Lirra, wrapped around her forearm once again, and settled down. He slowly sheathed his sword. Lirra appeared to be in control of her body, at least for the time being. And while it might not have been the most strategic of moves, holding a sword against his own flesh and blood didn’t sit well with Vaddon, so battle strategy be damned.
He remained standing where he was, several yards away from Lirra, and he made sure to keep his hand well away from his sword, sheathed or not.
“What happened to Elidyr?” he asked. “I was unconscious for a time and didn’t see.”
“A daelkyr lord reached through the portal to Xoriat and touched him,” Lirra said. “The creature’s touch drove Elidyr mad. He called to the other three symbionts and they bonded with him. It shouldn’t have been possible—a person can’t serve as host to more than one—but Elidyr managed it. That creature’s touch did more than destroy your brother’s sanity, Father. It changed him somehow.” She paused and then slowly turned and trained a suspicious, narrow-eyed gaze on Sinnoch.
Almost faster than Vaddon could track, Lirra dashed across the chamber toward the dolgaunt, unfurling the tentacle whip as she ran. With a flick of her arm, the whip’s coils wrapped around Sinnoch’s chest, pinning his arms and back tentacles in place. The barbed tip of the symbiont hovered in front of the dolgaunt’s face, swaying
back and forth as if it was a serpent that might strike at any moment. Sinnoch didn’t struggle against the tentacle whip’s grip, and he appeared undisturbed by Lirra attacking him. He merely grinned that oversized grin of his.
Seeing Lirra move that swiftly made Vaddon realize that Elidyr hadn’t been the only one changed during the course of the experiment. Becoming bonded with a symbiont normally enhanced a host’s strength, speed, and ability to heal to a certain degree, but nothing like what Vaddon had just witnessed. What had happened to his poor daughter?
Lirra leaned close to Sinnoch’s face, and the tentacle whip’s barb tapped the dolgaunt lightly on the nose several times, as if to make sure he was paying attention.
“You were Uncle’s assistant, and you know more about Xoriat and its creatures than any of us here. You must know what happened to him.”
“I might have an idea or two,” the dolgaunt said, still grinning.
Lirra scowled and her lips drew back from her teeth in an expression that was almost a snarl. Though she made no outward move, the tentacle whip’s coils tightened around Sinnoch’s chest, and the dolgaunt let out a pained gasp, followed by an amused chuckle that sent a shiver down Vaddon’s spine.
“Keep making jokes and I’ll keep squeezing,” Lirra said.
Not the whip will keep squeezing, Vaddon noticed. But rather I will. A mere slip of the tongue, or was it a sign that Lirra was beginning to lose her individuality? Vaddon was mindful that Osten had hosted the tentacle whip for several days before the aberration had taken control of his body. Just because Lirra appeared to be in control at the moment didn’t mean she was going to stay that way.
“You humans have no sense of fun,” Sinnoch said, almost sounding as if he was pouting. “Very well. Elidyr designed the Overmantle so that a host might join with a symbiont and remain in complete control, but—if you were paying attention—you also know that the device clearly failed. And very spectacularly so, I might add. Instead of bolstering the host’s psychic defenses to resist a symbiont’s dominating influence, the chaos energy drawn from Xoriat made both host and symbiont stronger.” Sinnoch smiled. “That’s the problem with trying to control chaos, of course. The harder you try, the more you’re bound to fail. I tried to explain that to Elidyr on numerous occasions, but he’s human, and your kind can be so very stubborn.”
“That only explains part of it,” Lirra said. “Something else happened to Elidyr.” She leaned her face close to Sinnoch’s and bared her teeth, almost as if she were prepared to bite him if he didn’t answer to her satisfaction. Vaddon found the naked ferocity on his daughter’s face more disturbing than the eyeless visage of the dolgaunt. “Did you have anything to do with it?”
“I did not. Your uncle was blessed by the touch of a daelkyr lord. With that single touch, he reshaped Elidyr, made him into something more than human. Precisely what, I couldn’t tell you, but I’m sure he’s going to have fun finding out.”
Lirra glanced to the side and muttered, as if speaking to herself. Or maybe, Vaddon thought, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, speaking to her symbiont.
“That’s why he can host three aberrations and unleash blasts of chaos energy. I wonder what else he can do.” She looked down at where the tentacle whip joined to her forearm. “I wonder what we can do.”
We, Vaddon thought. She said we.
She turned back to Sinnoch and flexed her forearm. In response, the tentacle whip tightened its coils around the dolgaunt further, and the creature hissed in pain. One corner of Lirra’s mouth edged up in a half smile, and a dark look came into her eyes. Vaddon realized she was enjoying the dolgaunt’s discomfort, and the sight sickened him to the core.
“Stop it, Lirra!” Without thinking, he started to reach for her left arm, intending to pull her off Sinnoch, but he restrained himself. All he’d earn for his effort was another attack by the symbiont.
Lirra relaxed her forearm, and the tentacle whip loosened its coils, though it did not release Sinnoch. She then slowly turned to Vaddon and gave him a calculating look, as if she was reappraising him in some way. “This is a supreme irony, Father. You, defending an aberration. You hate the things more than anyone else in the Outguard.”
“I don’t care about the damned dolgaunt,” Vaddon snapped. “I care about you! Can’t you see what’s happening? That symbiont is poisoning your mind … filling your heart with fury, making you act irrationally … Let us help you, Lirra.”
“Your father’s right.”
Vaddon turned to see Ksana standing by his side, halberd held in a tight grip. He glanced over his shoulder to see Osten was sitting up. The lad looked dazed, but the wound on his throat had vanished, and his color looked good. Rhedyn had managed to get to his feet, but the soldier made no move toward Lirra. He just stood watching the drama play out before him, as if he was unsure how he could best help.
Ksana continued. “We can help you separate from the symbiont. It won’t be an easy process, you know that, for you’ve witnessed it before, and in your case I fear it will be even more difficult if what Sinnoch says is true about the symbiont having been strengthened by the Overmantle’s energies. The creature will not let go of you easily, I’ll warrant. But you’re a fighter, my child, born and bred, and with Dol Arrah to lend me strength, I will do everything in my power to make certain you are free of that abomination.”
“Neither of you understand,” Lirra said. “The Overmantle may not have functioned as Elidyr had hoped, but it did achieve its ultimate aim. It produced a weapon—me. You said yourself that you were unconscious when Elidyr changed, Father. You didn’t see what he’s become. He’s incredibly powerful and absolutely insane. If there’s any hope of stopping him, it lies with me—and my symbiont. After I’ve dealt with Elidyr—”
Vaddon interrupted. “Listen to yourself. Dealt with him? What do you plan to do? Kill your own uncle? Don’t delude yourself into thinking you can control your symbiont, Lirra. If there’s anything this whole misbegotten project has taught us, it’s that creatures of chaos cannot be controlled.”
“I don’t plan to control it, Father. I plan to use it.” She smiled grimly. “There’s a difference.”
Vaddon knew then that reason wasn’t going to work on Lirra. How could it, when she obviously wasn’t in her right mind?
“Lirra, I am your father, but I’m also your commanding officer. I order you to release the dolgaunt and surrender yourself into my custody. Immediately.”
Lirra looked at Vaddon for a long moment, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, her tone was calm, almost casual.
“I have never disobeyed an order from a superior, Father. Unfortunately, after today, I’ll never be able to say that again.”
She spun around and hurled Sinnoch toward Vaddon and Ksana. The tentacle whip uncoiled, releasing the dolgaunt so swiftly that neither the general nor the cleric had time to move out the way. The creature slammed into them hard, and all three of them fell to the chamber floor.
Ksana was back on her feet before Vaddon, whose armor slowed him down, and the half-elf helped him to his feet. But it was too late. Lirra was gone.
CHAPTER
NINE
Ranja had been watching Bergerron’s hunting lodge for three stultifying days when something interesting finally happened. The shifter had taken up a perch in an oak tree that provided an excellent view of the lodge, but which also had thick enough foliage to keep any of the soldiers stationed there from spotting her when they patrolled the area. Her mottled green clothing helped camouflage her, though given how obviously thickheaded the soldiers were, she doubted they’d have seen her if the tree was completely bereft of leaves and she was lounging naked among the bare branches. But that was Karrns for you. Steel in their spines, icewater in their veins, and fire in their hearts, but not a whole lot going on upstairs.
It was late morning on the fourth day of Ranja’s vigil when a man came strolling out of the lodge’s entrance, whistling gaily as if
he were looking forward to a pleasant stroll. Except this man had three symbionts fused to his body. Ranja had worked as a mercenary since she was young—mostly doing scouting and spywork, though she’d fought if the money was right—and during her career she’d seen any number of strange if not downright bizarre sights that if nothing else made for good storytelling over a pint of ale or three. But she’d never seen anything quite like this before. She’d seen symbionts bonded to hosts before, sure, but not three! Within moments the man had disappeared into the surrounding forest. Ranja was tempted to follow him simply to satisfy her curiosity, but her employer’s instructions had been quite clear.
“I want to know what’s going on in Bergerron’s lodge, and I want to know now. Don’t even think about coming back until you find out.”
Arnora Raskogr was a haughty bitch, but she paid well, and that was what mattered most to Ranja. So while she might find out the true nature of the secret work going on in the lodge by following the amazing three-symbiont man, she might also miss out on some important development here if she left her observation post. Besides, as a shifter, her senses were keener than a human’s, and symbionts offended her on a primal level. Simply put, the damned things were just wrong, and she couldn’t stand being around them—and that man had three of them fused to his body. How could he even survive with that many symbionts attached to him? No, maybe she’d be better off erring on the side of caution for a change, at least in this particular instance. So Ranja had decided to stay in her tree, sore though her muscles were, and watch a little longer—not that she had all that long to wait until someone else left the lodge.