This Deadly Engine

by Philip Ligon

  Lady Elizabeth’s automaton body rested on the dais. Her white dress and train pooled about her.

  With Schaever gone, would anyone begin the process to place her in another mechanical doppelganger? Or would she remain in her magical stasis until someone found her?

  Movement to the left caught my eye. Sheela knelt beside an older man with a round belly. He wore a thick belt covered with silver gears. Some spun while others were still and broken. His hairline had receded to the middle of his head. Red splotches covered his cheeks. His head bled at the right temple.

  “Your husband?” I asked.

  She twitched as if startled. She looked at me with almost vacant eyes. The black collar with diamonds remained in its place on her neck, the symbol of my wrongs against her. “Yes, this is Lord Carrigan.” She looked at him. “He is dying, yet I cannot bring myself to help him.”

  She had described the man as a monster. She escaped him by jumping through the Gateway, risking death by going to the magical realm. And when Schaever threatened to kill her, I saved her by revealing the fact that she knew about the other world. My action condemned her to being reunited with her estranged husband.

  I knelt beside her and placed my hand on her shoulder.

  She shrugged me off and backed away. “Who…what are you doing?”

  Of course she did not recognize me. “I am Ash.”

  She looked me up and down, confusion etched in the wrinkles around her eyes. “Ash?” She shook her head. “You cannot be serious.”

  “It’s true,” Cavendish said as he joined us. “I witnessed the transformation myself.”

  Sheela started to speak, then stopped. She started again, and stopped again. On the third try she managed to say, “Why…how…transformation is impossible. Are you an automaton?”

  “No,” I said. “I am flesh and bone. How I came to be like this is a long tale.” I pointed to her necklace. “Cavendish, if you please?” As the gnome worked on the lock, I said, “I’m sorry, Sheela. For everything.”

  When the necklace fell to the floor, she rubbed her neck. She let my words hang in the air and refused to look at me. After a moment, she spoke in a low voice, close to a whisper. “I cannot stay angry with you, Ash. Deep inside I know you did your best. You wanted to save me. Because of that, I can forgive you.” She looked at me from under her brow. “But you also forced me to choose from impossible choices. You asked me to do things which I could not do. For that, I will never trust you. I told you my greatest secret, and you betrayed me.”

  The truth could be harsh and what she said stung. And yet… “You did shoot me.”

  For a moment, her eyes blazed with the life of the old Sheela. “Maybe you deserved it.” She held her left arm.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “A gash that I will tend to.” She held her hand up. “Before we say anything else, I want to make it very clear where I stand in my affections for you.” She took a deep, grimacing breath. Though I wanted to interrupt her, I knew better than to do so. “I will always have some feelings for you, I must admit. But I have had a lot of time to think matters through, and I believe it is in our best interests to part ways. As I said, I will never fully trust you again. And I am not convinced we bring out the best in each other.”

  How could words hurt with such a welcomed sweetness? Yes, I had put her in a difficult position. Yes, I had asked her to choose. And in the end her actions spoke as to her heart’s true loyalty. We could never completely trust the other.

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and I caught it on a large finger. “You are free, Sheela. Schaever is destroyed. The elf who bound us to the Elders’ service is gone. She refused to tell me her name.” I paused. “You can do whatever you want now.”

  Sheela staggered as if she had been struck by a falling brick. “Eliaz-sheloe is dead?”

  “If that is her name, then yes. She served the Elders until the end.”

  Sheela wiped tears away as she looked at Lord Carrigan, who stared up with lifeless eyes.

  I said, “There was nothing you could do for him.”

  She nodded slowly but said nothing.

  I looked at the pulpit where Bishop Donnavan’s automaton hung over the edge. “Do you know where Schaever stores the bodies of his victims?” I pointed to the Bishop.

  “At the University. The main building, in the basement. There are several large rooms full of the tanks.” She eyed me again. “Why do you ask?”

  “I made a promise I intend to keep.”

  A crashing of bricks and wood arose from the entrance. “Perrin!” Frengarn roared. He threw rubble left and right to clear a path to me.

  “Who is Perrin?” Sheela asked.

  “I am.” And in more ways than she knew.

  A lady to the left screamed when she saw the metal orc monstrosity. She fought to free herself from the debris.

  Sheela said, “I will help her. You worry about…that.” She hurried out of the way of danger. The act spoke deeper as to her feelings for me. Not so long ago, she would have stood with me.

  “Cavendish,” I said, “unless I want to use what remains of the Ring of Seven powers and smell Frengarn better, I am out of useful magic.” Except for the Heart.

  He removed his last watch. “This one explodes.”

  “How big is the explosion?”

  “Similar to one of your former wife’s bigger bombs.”

  I took it. “How does it work?”

  He showed me how to twist the face. “You have five seconds once you arm it. I would not recommend being close when it explodes.”

  He said something else, but I already charged at Frengarn as he stomped across the highest pile of rubble. He scattered the bones of broken automatons in his wake. When he saw me coming, he threw the remains of a pew. He gave me no time to recover when I hesitated to avoid the projectile. With a quick sweep of his hand, he snatched me up.

  Metal fingers bit into my left shoulder, touching the wound from the falling stone. The pain forced me to cry out.

  The metallic orc said, “You have interfered for the last time, Perrin.” He grabbed my legs with his other hand. “I will break you in half!” He held me above his head as he tried to pull me apart.

  I laughed at him as every joint and sinew stretched. “Your plan to destroy our world has failed, Frengarn.”

  My words only infuriated him. He pulled harder.

  Perrin said, “His body is so strong…we cannot…hold…”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Cavendish run to Frengarn. In his anger, the orc had forgotten the gnome, who sliced and jabbed at the veins in Frengarn’s left leg.

  The orc stumbled as fluids poured out. He released my feet but kept his vice-like grip on my shoulder. He swiped at Cavendish.

  The gnome continued a dance of surgical precision on the monster.

  I said, “You are trapped in this ugly world. And the magical realm will endure.”

  He swatted Cavendish and sent the gnome tumbling. “Our world is doomed, cyclops. It is dying. Do you believe that by closing the new portal that my army will be unable to cross into this one?” He held me in front of his face. His voice echoed in the metal head and the fixed jaw. “You only delayed the inevitable. Even now, Campden burns at the hands of my army. This will be the first town destroyed. Once I have subdued the puny humans, I will make this world what it should be.”

  “What you should have done is kill me when you had the chance.” I twisted the watch face, then shoved the bomb between Frengarn’s black teeth.

  He dropped me so he could tear at his mouth with both hands. The unmoving jaw prevented his fingers from being able to dislodge the watch.

  The seconds ticked by as I scrambled to get as far away as possible.

  The watch exploded.

  While I expected the usual wave of heat and wrenching of metal, I heard only a hollow thud.

  Had Cavendish miscalculated the bomb’s power?

  Futility settled over me. I turned to fac
e Frengarn with nothing left except what strength remained in my aching, tired, and wounded body.

  Yet…the mechanical orc fell to his knees with a groan of failing gears and the grinding of metal. His head had turned into a mass of twisted pieces – he had four eyes, his jaw hung on one side, the left earhole had grown to the size of half of his head, oil oozed from the neck, and shards of metal stuck out.

  The creature paused. His red eyes dimmed before going out completely. He toppled forward.

  Perrin said, “A fitting end to him, don’t you think?”

  “His body is destroyed, but he still lives in a stasis tank. To kill him for good means finding the tank. And destroying it.” I sighed. “Until we do that, he can go into a new, completely different body.”

  The cyclops grunted. “We will deal with him. That is a promise.”

  Cavendish approached, limping. His right arm swung free as he walked. “He got the best of me. But I have come through worse.”

  Sheela assisted a lady from the rubble. She looked at me and nodded to say that she did need more help. The moans of others buried in the rubble strengthened her answer.

  Though I wanted to start for the University, I could not leave them. The fire bells continued to toll while the roar of a distant, but closing, fire filled the air.

  The nearest plea came from a man trapped under several stones. I took a deep breath to muster what strength remained. I removed the stones, then helped the man to his feet.

  He pointed to a body beneath bricks. “My wife is there.”

  Together, we freed her. She lived, though she remained unconscious.

  I paused to catch my breath.

  Cavendish said, “Rest for a bit. Tend to that wound.” He pointed to my bleeding side. “I will look for more survivors and let you do any heavy lifting.” He made it a point to poke my knee. “And no arguments.”

  Despite the desire to continue, I heeded the gnome’s order and sat. I feared that if I stopped, though, I might not move again. I asked the cyclops, “Do you remember what it felt like when we didn’t hurt?”

  He laughed. “We will know such a feeling again, human. Of that, I am certain.”

  In the end, I wrapped my wounds, closed my eye, and slumbered until Sheela woke me several hours later. “Ash, we need your help.”

  Though my body protested, knowing that she still wanted my help encouraged me to move. I followed her to a pile of wood, plaster, and stones. Together, we cleared them from the top of an elderly man.

  The three of us, along with Goldy and a few other survivors, worked well into the night. I stopped when I found Rebecca’s doppelganger.

  Pieces of stained glass pierced her in a dozen places. A beam across her mid-section had struck hard enough to smash the metal pieces of her torso into bits.

  I lifted the shoulders and head.

  The time had come to finish what I had promised. The time had come for Perrin to finish his almost life-long quest.

  “I’m leaving,” I said to Cavendish.

  The gnome dropped a brick. “I’m coming with you.”

  Chapter 15

  Walking from the Cathedral to Campden University gave Cavendish and us – Perrin and me – the opportunity to witness the vast destruction wrought by the fires and by Frengarn’s army. Smoke billowed into the sky. The fire bells had ceased, though several Fire Brigade crews still worked to contain small pockets of flames. Skirmishes between orcs and townspeople forced us to take other lanes.

  When we reached the Expo, we found little more than burning shells, smoldering embers, and ashes. The skeletons of several buildings – the airship hangar among them – loomed over the desolate land. The dreams of magic and science, as well as the nightmarish creations of both were but a memory for those fortunate enough to have witnessed the extravaganza and survive.

  Cavendish, Perrin, and I reached the main hall of Campden University. The fires raging through the town cast a dancing light on the building. Its physically separated location had allowed it to be spared the judgmental flames. For the same reason, Schaever’s manor home also remained untouched.

  An eerie quiet had settled over the University grounds. We saw no one. I assumed all able hands either battled the fires or the invaders. But I wondered…did the University know Schaever’s fate and mourn for its benefactor? Did it dare anyone to disturb its solemn state?

  Cavendish said, “I feel like someone is watching us.” He turned around. “Or maybe there should be someone watching us.”

  I approached the hallowed hall of learning and experimentation, one known for strange noises at all hours of the night. Schaever, ever a fan of fountains, had built one in front of the steps. In the middle stood an elf and a human, back-to-back, each holding his hand upward. They appeared unified in their pursuit of greater knowledge, and of greater power.

  How close had that alliance come to ending the homes of both?

  We passed the monument to foibles and follies and climbed the steps. A pair of great doors greeted us. Scientific symbols – elements, planets, and mathematical shapes – were carved into the left one. The image of a Reganas beneath the stars was carved into the right one. An inscription in marble stood over both doors and said, “Enter, Ye Seekers of Truth.”

  I pulled on the golden handle of each door. They swung wide, revealing a large, open room with a polished marble floor. Four round, marble columns were equally spaced around the room to mark the corners of a square. Topiaries with foliage trimmed in a twisting pattern, and benches tucked away in corners and between topiaries created an introspective atmosphere. A wide staircase on the opposite side led to the first floor, and the balcony that looked across three sides of the room. The gold plating on the handrails glistened as did the silver on the spindles.

  Cavendish’s breathing, as well as my own, disturbed the solemn air. Surely the room stood in its own time and existed in its own place, far removed from either world. To break the strange trance I said, “I am surprised Schaever did not put a fountain in here.”

  The manner in which my words died in the air and the fact that Cavendish nervously shifted from foot to foot not only made my attempt at humor fail, but also added a sense of foreboding.

  “Do you recall the last time we visited this building?” Cavendish asked.

  How could I forget? Our efforts to find Sheela had reached new levels of desperation. We followed information Cavendish had received of a tunnel that connected the University with Schaever’s home. Frengarn almost caught us, and I received a message for The Misters from…what was his name?

  McShae!

  The poor man died as a result of Reckard’s betrayals. He subsequently put me on a path that led to Lady Elizabeth’s world of cold, emotionless revenge.

  I said, “We know where to find the tunnel. I assume the basement laboratories are close to it.”

  “I wish we had those goggles that allowed us to see in the dark.” Bitterness filled Cavendish’s voice. “Or that Ravenlea had stayed with us instead of running off with the others.”

  “She did what she felt she had to do. I am sure she will return once they finish with Schaever.” I could only imagine how they punished him, even at that moment.

  The gnome said nothing else as he led the way across the room. Our footsteps echoed…lonely sounds in the emptiness.

  “I still feel like I am being watched,” he said as we went through a doorway to the left of the stairs.

  We walked down a long hallway with four more doors, two on each side, where lecture rooms waited. At the end of the hallway we found another stairwell. Beneath it stood a door with a sign that read, “Access By Permission Only.”

  Cavendish worked on the lock and in less than a minute he held the door open. Twenty steps down led to the tunnel made of the same bricks as the sewers. Lamps illuminated the way, but so far apart that shadows lingered between them.

  “I will follow you,” the gnome said. He did so and when the tunnel split, he pointed to the right
. “We went that way the last time, to the underground realm.”

  I took the left passage. We stopped at a black metal door. We had stood in front of a similar one when Cavendish and I battled the dragons and the Greenhews in the Statue of Forneil affair. The door had led to the treasure vault where an invisible Reckard and I had fought Aimee for the head of the statue.

  Cavendish set to work on the four locks.

  I asked Perrin, “You know what we have to do?”

  He grunted. “The same as you and I have always done – what is necessary. I must say that I have come to admire you. Your life has always been colorful. The fact that you have managed to stay true to yourself is a testament to the kind of man you are.”

  I grunted back at him. “I am a man of failures and vices. I am everything Aimee and Sheela accused me of being.”

  The cyclops grunted louder. “You are also everything Bishop Donnavan and Rebecca accuse you of being. That is what makes you so interesting. Who is Alexander Asherton? A thief? A saint? A magic addict? A canon? You are all of these and more. You care for others. You are loyal to a fault. You are naïve, but you understand many things.”

  “I am but a simple man trying to get through the day. I help where I can. I do what I must to survive.”

  “You are honest to everyone but yourself.” He spoke with sincerity. “Whatever happens to us, it has been an honor to be on this adventure with you. I like you. Our masters chose well.”

  “And you have been more than I imagined, Perrin of the Plemends. You have fought the good fight no matter the odds or the impossibilities.”

  “Ash?” Cavendish asked. “Are you done talking with yourself?”

  I smiled. “Perrin thinks a lot of you, Cavendish.”

  The gnome blushed. “Yes…well…shall we?” He pushed the door open.

  Perrin said, “Let us face this final task, Alexander Asherton. Who knows what will happen next?”

  We received a good answer when we entered a square room with a door on each side. A pair of lizards stood guard before the individual doors. They wore the familiar black neckband. Not a one of them moved towards us.