by Philip Ligon
Cavendish looked at me, then shrugged. He started for the center door.
The respective lizards crossed their swords to deny him entrance. The left one asked, “What issss the passssword?”
I said, “What, besides Reginald Schaever is an Old Wigsby?” Before the creature reacted, I grabbed him and his companion by the collars. “Schaever is dead. Your fight is not with me. Not this day.” I pulled them down to the gnome’s level.
Cavendish worked on the neckbands. Both fell to the floor.
“Return home,” I said.
The lizards rubbed their necks. The left one said, “Cyclopssss issss not a cyclopssss. There issss ssssomething sssstrange at work in him.”
Perrin said, “Keep going. Either they fight us, or they let us be. We will not stop to entertain them.”
I pushed between the lizards. “Whatever is in there cannot be worse than the sight of you.”
Both lizards laughed, but not at my statement. The left one said, “Madnessss liesss beyond.”
I matched the creature’s eyes. “Have you seen a female cyclops in a tank?”
The lizard’s tongue flicked in and out. Based on how long it took him to answer, he considered what he wanted to say. “I will tell you if you free the otherssss.” He motioned to the remaining sentries.
Cavendish sighed. He set to work on the neckbands. After a few minutes, he freed all six.
Perrin said, “I care little for them, but I would rather care little for them as free lizards instead of enslaved ones.”
The first lizard pointed to the right door. “In there are many cyclopessss. Perhapssss your lady issss among them.”
“She has a scar across her chin.”
The lizard shuffled to the side. “You all look the ssssame. I pay little attention to cyclopessss. Perhapssss sssshe issss there. Perhapssss not.” He gave a hissing laugh. “Maybe you can get through the elvessss to find out.”
Instead of leaving, they huddled together and watched. So I asked, “Did you have anything else you wanted to tell me?”
The second lizard said, “We want to watch what happenssss to the not-cyclopssss.”
Perrin said, “Ignore them.”
I turned away and opened the door. We found a lab similar to all the other labs that Schaever had built to conduct his macabre experiments. The biggest differences with the present one was that it had two tables, fewer tanks, and no elves working. The only movement came from a spider-like creature on top of the tanks.
“What is that thing?” Cavendish asked.
A combination of different beings existed in one monster. An elven head examined the top of a tank while human fingers on the end of a black metal arm jointed in three places held a quiver which scribbled on a tablet. Once finished, it stretched across to the next tank with two similar arms, then pulled its globe-like body over, where it examined the next tank and made its note. It appeared oblivious to our presence.
Perrin urged me forward, into the rows of victims. When we moved to within six feet of the first row, the spider creature shrieked. It leapt from tank-to-tank as it moved to the front. The creature’s torso spun. Instead of facing the elf’s head, I now stared at a gun with red eyes on either side of the barrel.
When I stopped, it did as well. I stepped to the right, and it followed. The barrel never wavered.
Cavendish asked, “What type of creature is that?”
“The kind that kills you if you are not careful,” I said. Perrin desperately wanted to search the tanks, but I held him back.
The lizards hissed as they laughed in delight at my predicament.
I told the cyclops, “We need to fully assess what we are facing.” I asked the lizards, “Where does Schaever process the humans?”
Their leader said, “In the firsssst room you tried to enter.”
I backed away from the tanks. When I reached the door, the spider creature’s torso turned back to the elf’s head. It scurried across the tanks to continue its inspections.
Perrin said, “We must find a way to get to the tanks. Maybe Cavendish can distract it.”
The gnome stared at the monstrosity with disbelief filling his eyes. He would not agree to anything involving the monster. “Let’s look in the next room.”
We opened the center door and entered a busier laboratory. Elves, Treyo Duthkus to be exact, worked at the dozen tables. Guardsmen stood watch. A steam wagon with round claws lifted and moved a tank to an empty slot on the right. Another spider-like machine met it. Human hands connected the top to the line that carried air. Bubbles rose in the liquid.
Other than a Guardsman staring, no one seemed to care about our presence.
Cavendish said, “Between the two rooms, finding the Donnavans and the cyclops could take some time.”
Towards that end, the attending elves could be useful. They could also explain how to reverse the process.
Each of them wore the fully buttoned white coat that reached to the knees. They also wore the silver mask that covered their nose, mouth, and right eye, and the black gloves that sparkled with silver.
When I approached the nearest table, a Guardsman stepped in front of me. “What is your business?”
“The Duke’s business, of course.” When I tried to step around him, he shifted. Perhaps Perrin influenced me too much or perhaps I had simply lost the part of myself that showed restraint in the face of Schaever’s minions. Whichever the reason, I did not hesitate to grab the Guardsman by the neck. The fact that I could not lift him indicated what I faced. Before he reacted, I drew a knife across the back of his neck. He went limp as fluids oozed.
The automaton fell to the floor with a thud. Two more moved towards me.
I tapped an elf on the shoulder. “I need to as—”
What felt like a wall slammed me in the chest, sending me back and into the waiting arms of the Guardsmen.
The elf’s red eye glowed with hatred while his normal eye narrowed. The tubes on his mask shifted as if he breathed hard.
The Guardsmen, one on each arm, turned me to the door.
“Rejected again, old chap?” Reckard asked. He looked like he had passed through Hell – ripped and torn clothes hung on him, the right side of his face had turned purple and swelled, the skin on his right arm had blistered into boils, and cuts and bruises covered his legs. A dozen orcs carried him. “Why are you here?” The orcs put him on his feet. He cringed and would have collapsed if two of the creatures had not held him up.
“Saving those I promised to save,” I said. “Why are you here? Why are you not destroying Campden with your new friends?”
He coughed, and a bit of blood splattered on his hand. He wiped it on his shirt, smearing more red across it. “Is it true? What Aimee said? That you have taken the form of a cyclops, Ash?”
“Yes, it is true.” I gained nothing by denying who I was. And he needed to understand whom he faced.
Reckard motioned to Cavendish. “I would have guessed it was you simply by seeing that hairy little monster, old chap.” He sneered at the gnome. “Always a lackey. I suspect he will be to the end.”
“Cavendish is far more honorable than you. He has sacrificed more than you ever imagined. And from what I clearly see with my one eye is that you have become Schaever’s lackey.”
Reckard shrugged. “Stop pretending to be so noble, Ash. You are a—”
“If you want to kill me, then do so.” I didn’t want to hear what he thought of me. I had heard it all from Aimee. “But first tell me where the Donnavans are.”
He waved his hand. “Why? Why give you what you want?” He motioned to the tables, and the orcs assisted him in that direction. “As for killing you, I will wait to do that.”
I tried to move, but the Guardsmen held me in place.
Reckard said, “I am dying, Ash. Well, this body is dying. But I am about to be reborn. I am about to move into an entirely new realm of existence. I will finally understand Elizabeth. I will better appreciate her as she i
s.” Delight filled his voice. “You will not deny me this time, old chap. You have no right to interfere. This is my choice and mine alone.” He reached the table and leaned against it. “I think I know how you felt after being catapulted over Campden. Damn, but it hurts.” He coughed blood again. “That blast of magic got all of me.”
“You can thank Mister Mercy and Mister Important. I wish I could have seen their expressions when they saw the one who betrayed their secrets.”
Reckard looked over his shoulder at me. A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his right eye. “You helped those miserable bastards?”
“Actually, they helped me. This is coming to an end, Reckard. Schaever is dead. Campden burns to the ground. Frengarn has been dealt a serious blow to his plans. The gnomes are rising.”
My old friend pulled himself onto the table. “The dream lives on, old chap. It will never die, nor will it be destroyed. Magic and science will be combined. They will give us the keys to immortality.” Two elves shifted to the table. They arranged the rack of tubes and potions.
“What if I stop you?”
My old friend said, “Then I will kill you when I have my new body.” He waved his hand without moving his arm. “Take this cyclops to a cell. Make sure to guard him at all times.”
The orcs surrounded me as the Guardsmen tried to force me to the door.
A Guardsman snatched Cavendish up.
The lizards in the outer room hissed as they exchanged money. Two glanced at me as if I cost them their lifetime of savings.
Perrin said, “We most likely did. Those creatures will place a bet on anything. I wonder what odds they gave us to succeed?”
Reckard said, “Oh, wait a moment.” Everyone stopped to look at him. “I really hate that gnome. Find the nearest dragon and feed the hairy little monster to it.”
Cavendish tried to twist out of the Guardsman’s hand.
“The dragon will not care if its meal is alive or dead, so do what you must.”
Cavendish scratched and kicked at anything within reach. He landed several blows that would have made a human flinch…but did nothing to an automaton.
I yelled. It took all my strength to break the grip of one Guardsman. The other held tighter.
The one holding Cavendish raised his club to strike.
I would not reach my friend in time.
The Guardsman struck the gnome on the head. Cavendish immediately fell limp.
“Reckard!” My voice echoed in the room.
“It was his time, old chap.” He spoke with no remorse. “I will see you on the other side.”
No, you won’t, you fool.
Before the Guardsman took my free arm, I reached inside my pocket. I squeezed the Gray Heart so tight that it cut into my palm.
The sweeping numbness of the magic shot through me, the same as before. The voices returned in a rush and with such force that my head roared in pain.
A gnome said, “He returns. But he has not fulfilled his mission. I told you to kill him the first time.”
The gnome lady asked, “Why do you delay in bringing the Gray Heart to our Family? Did I not give clear instructions? Was my warning not enough?” Her voice rose above the others. “What do you seek? Death? Damnation?”
I spoke with equal power. “I seek life. And freedom.”
The first gnome said, “You will not live to see either.”
A bolt of magic struck our chest. Our body burned.
Perrin said, “This is the same magic we have already commanded. We will do so again in spite of these gnomes.” He paused when the heat of the magic threatened to boil our insides. “But we must fight! For Rebecca, for Sera, and for Cavendish.”
Our body hummed. To fight the gnomes took every bit of focus. “We…do not know…if Sera is here.”
“Then we must free them all.”
The sheer will of the cyclops contained the power of the Heart. He would not hold forever, but he gave us a chance. We saw the blue aura around the elves working at the tables in the laboratory, and the aura surrounding bottles of elixirs. The tanks also glowed blue, as did the veins on the automaton Guardsmen.
The first gnome said, “This cannot be!”
We directed some of the magic into the Guardsmen who held us. The automatons collapsed with burst tubes.
Every elf in the room stopped. As one, they faced me.
I said, “You are free from Schaever’s control. You may return to your homes.”
One of them said, “Who are you to assume we are Reginald Schaever’s servants?” The metal mask made the elf’s voice vibrate. “We have no master other than the advancement of our people. And you seek to interfere in our work.”
Did they not care about the future of their world?
Perrin grunted. “So long as they are in charge of my world, then they are content to let it fall. And remember that the orcs and elves were once allies. Not all agreed with the breaking of that agreement.”
The elves struck as one with blue strands of magic that sought to fill every vein, every pore, every part of our being so they could rip us apart. The act quieted the gnomes. A collective gasp moved through them.
The magic shifted away from attacking us to keeping us safe. They used the Heart to absorb the elven magic.
The elves appeared undaunted. They summoned more magic. A torrent of power filled the Heart.
A gnome cried out, then another.
A sense of loss arose among the others.
The gnome that wanted to kill me said, “There must be an accounting. This act will not go unpunished.”
We…Perrin and I…lifted an elf high and strangled him with a cord of magic.
“Kill them all,” the gnome said.
An elixir bought at the end of a forgotten alley…Pienne’s complex concoctions…Schaever’s dark cocktails…none of those compared to what coursed through our veins…and to the power brought to bear in the room.
Flames and wind roared between my ears. The world turned a deeper blue such that everything looked to be obscured in shadows. A tingling moved from the Heart, up our arm, and into our chest, the same way an elixir flowed through us. Yet when it reached our head, the roaring took on the fury of a hurricane.
Bolts of magic struck the elves. They absorbed the blow and directed the power back at us.
Another gnome cried out.
Our arms and legs froze as if thick bonds held them in place.
Perrin whispered, “Again, you rely on magic too much. We need a brace of pistols and my boarding axe.”
The voice of an elf sounded in my head. “They have brought us the Gray Heart. They have given us the ability to control more power.”
The gnome lady said, “Go back to your own place, elf! This does not belong to you.”
One of the elves collapsed.
Another elf, a lady, said, “Contain them. Do not destroy them.”
The roar in our head receded to a mixture of yells and cries of elves and gnomes. The magic still filled us, but those who sought to control it ignored us in their determination to destroy each other.
Cavendish had been dropped by the Guardsman. He did not move, but he did still breathe, thankfully. We would assess his injuries later.
Reckard coughed. “What…are you doing…old chap?” Still on the table, he rolled to his side. He pointed a gun with a shaking hand.
A bolt of magic struck his arm and knocked the gun away.
He grimaced as he pushed himself up.
“Stay down.” We took the gun and walked towards the tanks.
Someone said, “Help me! Please!”
We turned.
No one was there.
Did we hear the plea, or did we imagine it? Did it come from an elf…a gnome…or from someone in a tank?
Perrin said, “There are so many. How can we…” His voice faded into the cacophony of yells and screams.
We faced the line of attacking elves. They stood in a trance. Their exposed eye peered at a di
stant object. Their breathing tubes shook.
The gnome lady cut through the noise. “Help us.” Desperation filled her voice. At least a third of the gnomes had died.
Still, they outnumbered the elves by at least twenty to one. They should not have had such a difficult time.
Was gnome magic so weak?
If it is, then why do I feel so powerful?
Perrin said, “They might not be ordinary Treyo Duthkus. Who can say what they truly are?”
We pulled the mask off of one. It revealed half of a face of black metal and black sinews. The marble eye flickered. Wires had replaced half of the elf’s nose and connected to parts deeper inside.
The elf grabbed our left arm, which immediately turned numb. He reached for our face but received a fist in his own. He crumpled to the floor with a shattered mechanical eye and twisted wires. He clawed at his face and moaned.
A surge moved through us, as if more of the gnome’s power had been released.
We proceeded to remove the mask of another elf, then punched him in the exposed face. He, too, fell.
A stronger surge of power moved through us. The gnomes finally held the onslaught of elven magic at bay.
“Stop!” Reckard said. He stood and leaned against the table. He aimed one of the Guardsmen’s guns with both hands, making it steadier.
“Or you will do what?” we asked as we pulled the mask off a third elf and sent him to the floor.
Reckard shot. The bullet cracked the glass on a tank behind us.
More gnome power filled our body. We glowed blue as the gnome lady said, “Yes, disable them. Kill them. Destroy!”
As Reckard reloaded his gun, we disabled another Treyo Duthku.
“Why do you not kill him?” Perrin asked. “After all the trouble he has caused?”
Despite the fact that we had killed and, through Perrin, had a mountain of bodies in our history, we…I…did not want to kill someone I once called a friend…someone who likely suffered from the madness brought on by his flying elixir.
“That is rubbish,” Perrin said. “The man means to kill you. And me.”