by Mike Wild
"Tashk?" Kali enquired, the one word all she could manage now. She could feel her eyes bulging painfully and her tongue thick between her lips.
Munch shrugged modestly, making her bob again. "Certain errands of import — troubleshooting, damage-control, the elimination of various problems." He smiled as he stressed the word before tossing Kali to the floor, where she scrambled back. "Whatever it is, in fact, the Anointed Lord wishes me do."
Kali hacked rawly, rubbing her throat, trying to ignore the pounding in her skull as blood rushed back into her brain. The man had almost killed her just then, and she had little doubt that was his ultimate intent, especially as he had just brushed back his cloak to reveal a particularly vicious-looking gutting knife.
"Last chance, girl, as I have no time for inconveniences. What is it that you are doing here?"
Kali thought fast. After that little ordeal, she was still too dizzy to run and too weak to defend herself, and so the only possible way out of this was to bluff. The question was, with what? It would have helped if Munch had given her a clue as to why he and his people were here, because without that juicy tidbit it would be so easy to say the wrong thing.
But then it struck her. Why was Munch so interested in what she was doing here? Surely that was obvious? Given that he hadn't just stumbled across the place, could it be that he'd come to the Spiral for the key without knowing what he'd find when he arrived? That he thought she knew something about the Spiral that might help? If that was the case, maybe he didn't know everything about the key itself.
It was something she could work with. A gamble, but worth the ante. If nothing else, it would buy her time.
"All right, all right!" she coughed. "The truth is, I came here for the… romfiffelypop."
Munch's eyes narrowed. "The romfiffelypop?"
Kali looked at him in a way that suggested everyone knew what the romfiffelypop was, then pointed towards the Spiral. "The key, dammit! I've been searching for it for years."
One of Munch's people — a woman by the sound of it — made a pishing sound, but Munch ignored her.
"The key?" he said, evenly. "Forgive me, I have never heard it called by that name."
Kali just knew she had him on the hook and shook her head wearily. "You wouldn't. It's an ancient Varondian dialect — a tribe in the Drakengrat Mountains — long extinct." Oh, good one, she thought.
"Is it, now? I see. And you are something of an expert in these matters?"
Kali nodded. "I've been around a bit, seen some things." She thought of others who did what she did, mainly blundering vandals — tomb raiders — in it solely for the money from the artefact trade. "The name's Orlana Dawn."
Munch pursed his lips, nodding. "Tell me, Orlana — have you experience of whirling blades, shooting spikes, rolling boulders, lava tiles and other lethal, death-dealing traps, triggers and devices?"
What? Kali thought. Was that meant to be some kind of joke? Sure, she'd come upon one or two 'protective measures' in her time but, for the most part, she'd had more problems with animals around the sites than anything inside them. Truth was, most contained nothing worth trapping at all.
"Why?" she asked, suspiciously. "Should I be?"
"We have encountered some such hazards recently. There is a possibility we may encounter some today."
Kali realised he was being serious, and couldn't help but be intrigued — where the hells had these people been? "Well, then," she said, "I'm your man."
Once again, the woman made a noise, but Munch silenced her with a slice of his hand. For the first time he looked Kali — openly and unashamedly — up and down. "Now," he said, "I know you are lying."
A lech as well as a psychopath, Kali concluded. But at least her gamble seemed to have paid off. For the moment, she would live — an extra member of Munch's team. The fact was, she resented that immensely — the Spiral should have been hers — but, on the other hand, she'd bought herself chance to examine it properly for the first time — and maybe when she knew more she could make it hers again. It had to be better than being sliced like a rack of shnarlmeat on the floor.
Munch, his people and Kali moved off across the vast chamber floor, their way lit by a fresh flare of light from the shadowmage. As her feet crunched on crystal shards, Kali looked up at the Spiral, noting the circular runics inscribed on massive plates that ran in a ring beneath the dome, wondering for what mysterious reason the builders had put them there. The sheer scale of what the Old Races had achieved never failed to leave her in awe, and now, with the advantage of this lower perspective, she found herself staring open-mouthed and more awed than ever before. Walking through the Spiral was like walking through a cathedral, a construction of staggering proportions, but however impressive it was, its actual purpose left her puzzled — and a little troubled. Her first thought — that it was some kind of museum — didn't really work, as what kind of museum contained only one exhibit? What, then? Some kind of memorial — but to a key? No, it had to be something else. A huge key perhaps suggested some accompanying huge vault, but then she had seen nothing here that a key such as the one atop the Spiral might open, and besides, what kind of vault, whatever its size, left the means to open it on public display?
Okay, so the place was hardly public. The point was, it didn't make sense.
The party reached the base of the Spiral and Munch and the others stared up the towering structure, assessing it. But left feeling uneasy by her inability to pin anything down, Kali's gaze was drawn instead to the grey remains of the plantlife that wrapped it, the nagging doubt about what she thought she'd seen earlier returning. As she watched, a tiny triangle of light — natural light — lit a patch of the lifeless tendrils and pods.
Kali looked up, blinked. The still-mottled but otherwise soil-free dome had begun to glow, the planet's distant sun rising and shining into that one patch of the Sardenne not obscured by its dark canopy — the clearing above.
Daylight was coming to Twilight.
And with it — in tenuous shafts that must have been intruding here for the first time in long and unknown ages — to the Spiral.
Kali looked down. She couldn't be absolutely sure but it seemed to her that the plants had stirred, as she thought they had earlier.
"Uurrmm…?" she said to the others.
Munch had apparently noticed something, too, as he had stepped back. He addressed her directly. "Did you see that, Miss Dawn?"
"I'm not sure," Kali responded. To her eyes, the plants seemed more… fleshy, too. "It could be — "
"It's nothing," the woman who'd protested earlier interrupted. "A trick of the light, that's all."
Munch looked again, but the plants — if they had moved — were now still once more.
"You are certain?"
"Of course I'm certain," the woman said, stripping off her hood and cloak, "or my name's not Orlana Dawn."
What? Kali thought. What? The woman had announced herself so casually that for a moment the name hadn't really registered. But nonetheless Orlana Dawn stood before her now, arms folded and smiling daggers, a buxom blonde putting all the right curves into a dark silk bodysuit. It was of a kind favoured by certain members of Vos and Pontaine's thieves guilds, which she had clearly adopted as her working gear. Kind of appropriate, really.
Still, it had a certain something. What Kali thought was: I have to get me one of those. What she said was: "Okay outfit, shame about the ass."
She looked at Munch. He had clearly been playing games from the start, probably even knew fully what the Spiral and the key were.
"If you knew — ?"
"Why didn't I kill you?" Munch answered. He inclined his head to the Spiral. "Frankly, because I do not know what hazards I face here, and I have lost too many people in recent months to waste an extra resource." He sighed lengthily. "The question, therefore, is which one of you goes first?"
"Konstantin!" Orlana Dawn objected.
Another sigh. "It's simple, Orlana. The two of you obv
iously share a passion for this kind of thing, but I have no idea which of you is the most competent at handling it. If I send you first, and you die, I send her in with the knowledge gained of what killed you. Or, I send her first and — "
"I get the picture," Orlana said. She looked suspicious of him, suddenly. "If she goes first — and succeeds — do I still get paid?"
Munch shrugged. "Sadly, the funds allocated to me are limited."
"Farking poxes from the pits! You're a bastard, Munch, you know that?"
"This I have been told before," Munch rumbled, unconcerned.
Their exchange faded in Kali's ears as her gaze flicked from the tower to the dome, the dome to the tower and back again, already ahead of them and working out what she needed to know. Then it struck her. The Spiral of Kos was no museum, no memorial and no vault, it was a greenhouse — a greenhouse specifically designed around its centrepiece, not the tower but the plants. In reaching that conclusion, however, she was still left puzzled. Because in the middle of the Sardenne Forest, what possible need could there be for more plants?
Unless…
"I'll go first," she said, suddenly, and what she hoped was decisively. She had no interest in the money but, as much as she disapproved of Orlana Dawn's motives for doing what she did, if her theory was right, she couldn't let her take the risk.
"Go to hells!" Orlana Dawn hissed at her. "She's a greenhorn, Munch."
"Hey, who are you calling a greenhorn?" Kali objected, despite herself. "The Maze of Moans," she cited, pointing proudly at her chest. "Me."
Orlana Dawn stared at her, momentarily nonplussed.
"Oh, really. How about the Lost Plateau of Thurst?" she retorted, with a snort.
Kali piffed. "Couldn't have been that lost. The Booming Room. The Booming Room, eh?"
"Quinking's Depths."
"Quinking's Depths."
"I already said that."
"Third level."
"Impossible. Look, this is my job, you interfering bitch. Konstantin, this is nothing I can't handle — "
"Miss Dawn goes first," Munch declared, putting an end to it. "The real one, that is." He gestured two of his people towards Kali. "In case she is tempted to help, hold the other one."
Kali was grabbed by both arms and struggled as Orlana Dawn sighed with satisfaction. "Munch, this is a mistake," she protested. "Orlana, don't — "
Munch hushed her. "Bring me that key, Miss Dawn," he ordered.
Orlana nodded, and Kali watched helplessly as her rival took one, two, then three tentative steps up the first turn of the Spiral. Even Dawn couldn't fail to notice that the plants had filled out somewhat now beneath the strengthening rays of the sun, but other than giving them a cautionary frown she continued slowly upwards, too inexperienced, too stubborn or simply too greedy to back down. As she did, one or two of the pods that Kali could now see formed the hearts of the various sets of tendrils belched something foul-smelling into the air, and Dawn stared down at them, curling her mouth in distaste. She was now past the fifth turn of the Spiral, and halfway round the sixth, and as she concentrated on putting her foot on the next step she failed to notice that some of the tendrils were, with a sound of sucking mud, slithering slowly onto those beneath her.
Kali pulled against her captors, but even if she had been able to break free, knew now that there was nothing she could do. What had become increasingly obvious to her — that the plants weren't dead but long dormant, untended since the demise of the Old Race and deprived of light as nature had reclaimed the dome — was, in truth, academic. What mattered was, reinvigorated, these things had a purpose, a purpose that answered the question of why the Old Race had needed more plants in the Sardenne. Because they weren't plants at all — not just plants. They had been grown here as guardians. Guardians of the key.
The Spiral of Kos hadn't been designed as a greenhouse — it had been designed to be a deathtrap.
"Orlana!" she shouted. "Get down off there — now!"
But it was too late — had been too late the moment Orlana Dawn had taken her first step onto the Spiral. Too late the moment the sun had begun to rise. And now, as it became fully bathed in light, the plants that covered it thrashed suddenly, shedding the accumulated dust of ages to reveal a horrible glistening green beneath — and the Spiral of Kos exploded into flailing, carnivorous life. Munch stepped back, raising an eyebrow, and motioned to one of his men, who pulled a crossbow from beneath his cloak and began to fire off bolts. Kallow the shadowmage, meanwhile, quickly rewove his threads to produce not light but thrumming balls of flame, pummelling the plants with a barrage of fire. Unfortunately, neither type of missile seemed to have any effect at all.
Orlana Dawn had no chance. Her way down the Spiral was now completely blocked, her way up — and it was still a long way up — filled with countless more of the plants that had manoeuvred themselves insidiously beneath her. While those above her snapped downwards like some deadly curtain, lashing themselves tightly about parts of the metalwork before whipping off in search of meatier prey, those below writhed graspingly upwards, slapping, probing and feeling their way around the Spiral like the tentacles of some inverted giant squid. There was nothing Dawn could do, and though she pulled a knife from her bodysuit to defend herself, spinning around and around in panicked circles, it was clearly going to be useless against the thick feelers that surrounded her, seeking out the intruder in their midst. Suddenly one of the tendrils darted at her neck, and though she dodged it, yelling, another darted from behind her to wrap itself quickly and tightly around her waist. Dawn doubled over, not only because she was struggling against its grip but because of the needles that even those below could see spring from it, puncturing both her bodysuit and her flesh. Dawn's mouth opened in surprise, some unknown toxin flooding her body, and as it did the second tendril struck at her neck once more, wrapping itself about her gulping throat as constrictingly as a slave's collar. Dawn jolted, her eyes widening in alarm as needles pierced again. Held in place by the two tendrils, others within reach sought her, found her and gripped by her ankles and wrists as well, and the struggling Dawn was lifted from the Spiral steps like a helpless marionette, tugged in every direction as each tendril sought to claim her for its own. She didn't scream, because she couldn't, whatever toxin had entered her system tainting her veins a pulsing shade of green, sending her into spasm as they poisoned every drop of her blood. It was, in a way, a mercy, because a second later other tendrils whipped in at her, their needles no longer piercing but tearing, ripping away first her bodysuit and, when that was gone, her flesh. Unable to move, unable to utter anything but the merest whimper, only Dawn's eyes reflected the agony of her paralysed and corrupted form as it was taken apart shred by shred. Her body jerked for a while longer but her eyes stared blindly now from a cadaverous skull, and soon after that she was nothing but a bloody skeleton, and then not even that. The pods opened, and, piece by piece, deposited inside by their tendrils, the skeleton, everything that had been Orlana Dawn, was gone.
The plants calmed, and then they were still once again.
A second passed, the remainder of the party staring up at the Spiral in shocked silence. Then Munch coughed and wiped a lump of cheek from his cheek, leaving a bright red smear.
"Well," he said, "that was a new one."
"Orlana was right, you are a bastard," Kali said without emotion. "You knew there was something, threw her life away — "
"There is always something," Munch said, wearily. "You just have to find out what. Which is why I am glad of your company today, because it enabled me to send the stupid one first. It seems that you are now in the employ of the Final Faith, Miss — ?"
"Kali Hooper. Remember it."
"Kali Hooper, good. So, Kali Hooper — explain to me how it is you mean to tackle the little problem that presents itself before us." Konstantin said, throwing her tool belt back to her.
"I don't mean to tackle it at all," Kali responded. "At least, not for you." The
truth was, she had already worked out how she might beat this thing, not only for the key but now, also, for the memory of Orlana Dawn, but when she did, it would be on her terms, not those of a certain Konstantin Munch. She'd learned what she needed to know and — it was time to go.
Munch swept back his cloak, revealing the gutting knife once more. Almost friendly in his tone, he sighed and said: "Kali, if I have let you live for nothing, I will kill you."
"Stan," Kali replied, going with his familiar name, "you won't get the chance." Her adrenalin built during Dawn's death — the grips of her captors having weakened in shock, anyway — she knew this was her moment, and took it. Slamming her elbow into the stomach of the brother on her right, she doubled him over and flung him round so that his head rammed into the stomach of the one on the left, then booted the first up the backside so the two of them sprawled to the floor in a heap. That done, she ran like hells.
Munch growled, and Kali heard the unsheathing of his knife echo sharply. She also heard him bark orders to Kallow, and suspecting what might come began to weave to the left and right. Sure enough, a second later, fireballs impacted with the ground on either side of her, detonating bits of the floor and following her as she ran. Kali kept weaving and moving, heading for the shadows at the edge of the Spiral's chamber, where the light from the dome did not reach. Crouching and moving as quickly and silently as she could, she began to manoeuvre herself around the rim, searching for the way in that Munch and his cronies must have used. Not that she had any intention of abandoning the place — hells, no, the key was far too interesting for that — but she needed to reach the surface, and Horse, to get more equipment from the saddlebag before she could even attempt to go for it. The fact that the plants' sap made them impervious to flame did not necessarily mean that they were invulnerable to it, and she figured that if she could create a heat that was intense enough she might be able to burn away some of the plants at the summit of the Spiral and lower herself to the key from above. All she needed was the magnifying mirrors she used to illuminate corridors in the darker sites, then using the sun and the crystal of the dome itself…