by Demi Harper
The bricks’ tiny size meant they dried incredibly quickly, within a matter of hours, and the builders were periodically trekking over to collect bricks that had been made earlier and haul them over to whichever building they were working on.
As I’d ordered shortly before the battle, there were two groups of four builders currently engaged in construction: one group for the barracks, the other working on the creche. Thanks to the efforts of my creatures, the Grotto had remained untouched during the invasion, and both in-progress buildings remained unharmed.
Though they were still in the early stages of construction, it was clear that they required much more time and effort than any previous buildings; whereas the gnomehomes had only required wooden boards, both the barracks and the creche required boards and bricks.
Furthermore, these two buildings were also much larger than anything my denizens had constructed before. The foundations confirmed what the Augmentary had already shown me: that the creche was a circular structure roughly four times larger than a standard gnomehome, while the barracks was a rectangular-shaped building even larger than the creche. No wonder they were taking so long.
It was a pity the Augmentary refused to let me assign more than four builders to each structure; they could have used the extra gnomepower. As it was, the remaining two builders were still working on the bridge. They were currently using lengths of twine – made from woven strands of dried mushroom gills – to connect the pile of boards they’d obtained from the lumberyard.
Once joined together, I presumed the boards would then be attached to the double parallel posts they’d hammered into both banks, forming a crude but working rope bridge across the stream.
Pleasantly surprised to see that the builders had everything in hand, I left them to it. As I headed further into the Grotto, I couldn’t help looking around at its verdant walls and hard-working inhabitants and marveling at how much I’d come to consider this place ‘home’.
Approaching my gem, I noticed something unusual. A handful of my Faithful gnomes were kneeling around my altar along with my acolytes, worshiping as I hadn’t seen them do since… well, since I’d first converted them.
‘My guess is that the tale of Binky saving your workers’ lives has spread around the tribe, inspiring a spate of increased worship among your followers. News travels fast when you live in a cave, and good news travels fastest of all.’
I followed my worshipers’ gazes up to where the spider sat quietly in the center of his web, watching the pale grayish sky.
‘Is Ket right? Is this your doing, you little rogue?’
He twitched one of his pedipalps at me, as though winking.
Oh, you, I thought affectionately.
Beside me, even Ket glowed softly. ‘Perhaps I was wrong about him. Perhaps spiders aren’t so bad after— UGH!’
Faster than the eye could see, Binky had shot out some kind of web javelin at a passing blackbird. He snared the bird and reeled it in, sinking his fangs into its body to immobilize it before happily wrapping it in silk and hanging it alongside the others that adorned the sides of his hole.
I gazed at him fondly, glad I hadn’t lost him during the battle.
But as I stared at the industrious spider, the reality of our situation began to sink in. Nearly all my god-born had been lost in the fight. I could, and would, make more of them, of course, but the point was that the battle’s outcome had been a truly close thing. By the end, there had been a single forrel standing between Snagga and my base. I didn’t know why Grimrock’s avatar had retreated, but I knew with certainty that it was the only reason we were still alive. If – when – that vile creature returned, there was no way we could stand against it.
Especially now Ris’kin was gone.
I saw my avatar’s last moments again: her paralysis before Snagga’s dark visage; her whimpers of pain in her final moments; my own utter helplessness in the face of her tortured plight.
Ris’kin, I’m sorry.
The edges of my vision darkened, heralding the arrival of a presence I’d grown to truly despise.
Well, well, said Grimrock. The cockroach has teeth. Your spirit – and your defense – is commendable, little god. Though also, in the long run, futile.
He paused, and I sensed him once again eying up the Grotto; eying up my gnomes. He’d sounded annoyed. So, I’d ruffled his feathers, had I? Good. It was the least he deserved.
Eventually, he spoke again.
Such a shame about your pet fox. You have my condolences.
Sorrow rose up inside me at the memory of Ris’kin, twitching at the mercy of Grimrock’s hellish avatar. My sorrow was closely followed by rage.
‘Condolences? You killed her!’
Come now. Don’t be so dramatic. Death is not forever, after all. You and I are proof of that.
‘You know nothing about me,’ I snapped.
No?
‘No!’
Let me tell you, little god, from one dark elf to another: I know more about the world than most. And I know things about you that would make your sprite’s hair curl.
‘Liar!’ Then his words hit me. ‘What do you mean, “from one dark elf to another”?’
Ah, yes. Finally, you begin to learn the truth. Should I tell you all of it?
‘If you know something about my former life, speak!’
He chuckled. Not so fast, little god. I require something in exchange.
‘Why should I believe you? You’ve attacked me three times now. How do I know you won’t just do the same again?’
Because, little god, you have something I want.
A stone of dread sank into my core. ‘And what might that be?’
Your gnomes.
At first, I didn’t understand what he was asking. ‘What? Why would I give them to you? How would that be any different than us fighting? You’re just going to take them anyway!’
You misunderstand me, little god. I do not wish to deprive you of all your denizens, nor your life, not unless I must. What I am proposing is an alliance. One which we both would benefit from. Your denizens, too.
‘I’m listening.’ I hated myself for it, but the prospect of finally piecing together my broken memories – not to mention reaching a solution to this conflict in which myself and my gnomes were spared – was too tempting to pass up.
You will continue to rule your little corner of these caves as you are now, said Grimrock. I will send no attacks against you, nor will I interfere with your cozy attempts at civilization.
‘And the catch is…’
In return for your freedom – and for the information you so desperately seek regarding your own forgotten origins – I will require certain… gifts. A tithe, if you will. Each month, I will send a delegation to collect it. You will allow these kobold delegates to pass unharmed.
‘A tithe? What kind of tithe?’ I asked, dreading the answer.
Lives, little god. The lives of those who follow you. Give me those – a mere handful each month, no more – and you will have your truth, and your life along with it.
‘You want me to willingly sacrifice my denizens for you?’
Better a willing sacrifice than a genocide, don’t you think?
I wasn’t so sure. Though I certainly didn’t want my gnomes to come to harm under any circumstances, helping them thrive with the intention of eventually sending them for sacrifice was far more monstrous than encouraging them to resist – and perhaps die – in the attempt to preserve their freedom.
Wasn’t it?
My despicable enemy sensed my turmoil, and left me with an ultimatum. Submit, and live. Resist me, and lose everything.
I tried to protest. ‘But—’
You have one month to decide, interrupted Grimrock. Choose well, little god.
Thirty-Nine
Evil Being
Grimrock’s threats whirled around inside my mind. Meanwhile, Ket was still talking, oblivious to his latest visitation.
‘… the barra
cks and creche are both well on their way to being completed. In a few more days they should both be usable, after which the gnomes will likely start to reproduce of their own accord, having simply been waiting for a safe space in which to do so…’
Strange how the sprite could often sense my moods, yet remained unaware of Grimrock’s visits. Perhaps whatever ability allowed him to whisper his threats directly into my mind allowed no others to detect my reaction to that narrow channel of communication.
‘… and when you’re able,’ continued Ket, ‘you should consider allocating some kind of safe area for the non-combatants to take shelter in during the next attack. Just in case… well, you know.’
Just in case they reach the Grotto next time, was what she meant. She had a point. It pained me to admit it, but the kobolds’ shamans would easily demolish the gnomehomes with their fiery grenades. And as for what Snagga could do to the gnomes themselves… I shuddered. I’d have to make sure my denizens took shelter in one of the stronger buildings – the barracks, perhaps – next time my Sphere was breached.
Considering the flimsiness of my hard-earned buildings reminded me of what was really at stake here. If my denizens were destroyed, I would lose all sense of self, returning to that floating state of non-consciousness I’d been trapped in when Gneil had found me. Worse, if Lila and her company – or some other group of adventurers – found us, they would straight up shatter my gem without asking a single question.
However, if I continued to advance my gnomes’ settlement, I might just have a chance to escape either fate. Once I’d reached a high enough god tier, I’d hopefully be able to regain my own body, just as Ket had hinted at when we’d first met. Then I’d have the double benefit of being myself again, and also being much better placed to defend the tribe.
‘… perhaps eventually even establish god-born creatures up on the surface.’
I flinched. ‘The surface?’
‘Ye-es.’ Ket paused. ‘I thought you’d be glad of the chance to head up there.’
What? Why?
Oh.
Because the surface was where humans lived. And I’d been a human before I became a God Core… or so Ket thought.
‘Erm… yes,’ I lied. ‘I can’t wait to get up to the surface. To feel the sun on my face when I’m finally free of this damned gem.’
‘What?’
I sensed that she was genuinely confused by my comment. That made me confused.
‘When I finally get my body back. You know? I was just thinking how it will help us to…’
I trailed off when Ket’s fluttering stilled. She didn’t reply. Something was very, very wrong here.
‘That’s what you told me,’ I went on, a little desperately. ‘Back when we first met. I asked you about leaving my gem, and you said you’d help me become powerful enough to do so.’
I waited for her to respond, but she still said nothing.
Then it dawned on me. ‘You… you lied to me?’
She was barely even glowing any more, her light all but dimmed. After a moment, she whispered, ‘Do you really want to leave?’
‘Of course I want to leave!’ Was she for real? ‘Who in their right mind would want to stay trapped inside a gem for all eternity?’
‘I thought you cared,’ she said quietly. ‘I thought you cared about your new role.’
What?
‘Just because I want my old body back doesn’t mean I don’t care—’
‘I don’t even know who you are any more, Corey.’
How dare she?
My temper flared. ‘You’re right! You don’t know who I am!’
And neither do I, I couldn’t help but think. Far below, I saw my gem flash a bright, angry red, making the worshiping acolytes recoil in fear until Gneil urged them back to calmness with reassurances.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ demanded Ket, her voice quavering with fear and anger.
‘Why don’t you take a look?’
Before she could question me further – and before I could change my mind – I focused on the fragmented memories of my former life and pushed them toward her, making sure Ket could see them clearly. It was my first attempt at sharing images rather than just emotions with her, but I could tell it was working because her tiny form flared with alarm.
To make sure she fully understood, I also shared Grimrock’s most recent words with her. ‘From one dark elf to another…’
Before I’d even finished, she began backing away from me. ‘You’re… you’re a dark elf?’ The sprite’s usual yellow-white glow had grown as dim and pale as I’d ever seen her, as though the color had drained from her at the horror of what she’d just seen.
‘I was,’ I corrected her.
She didn’t seem to hear me. ‘This… this is terrible,’ she whispered. She was still backing away slowly. ‘Corey, this means you’re… you’re an evil being!’
I tried to tell myself Ket’s words didn’t hurt, and that what she was saying wasn’t true. But her words speared me more surely than weapons.
Defensiveness kicked in, turning my pain into anger. ‘What happened to the yellow Core, Ket?’ I demanded. ‘Why did it shatter?’
‘Because…’ She faltered, clearly taken aback by the question.
‘Why, Ket?’
‘Because it listened to Grimrock’s lies instead of its sprite’s advice!’ she snapped. ‘What did he say this time, Corey? What did he offer you?’
‘He told me… He told me there’s no escaping my fate,’ I said hollowly. ‘He offered to spare my life, as long as I agree to swear allegiance to him, and keep him supplied with sacrifices.’
‘And you accepted?’
‘I have a month to decide. Seriously, though – what choice do I have?’ I asked her. ‘I threw the full power of my god-born at him, and they barely managed to repel his attack. He’ll send more next time, yet our defenses won’t be any stronger than they were this time.’
‘That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try—’
‘His kobolds – and his avatar – are going to get through to the Grotto next time,’ I interrupted her. ‘And when they do, they’ll take all the gnomes to be sacrificed, and that will be the end of everything. Surely it’s better to just accept his offer of alliance? To ensure the tribe continues, and that many of the gnomes will live?’
‘Except that he’s lying, Corey,’ Ket insisted. She flitted back and forth in distress. ‘That’s what Grimrock does: he lies. He has no intention of letting any of us live; he just wants to make sure you don’t resist him next time he comes. The last assault cost him dearly, but he won’t admit it. He’s lying—’
‘Don’t talk to me about lying!’ I shouted. Again, my gem flared crimson. ‘You told me you could help me escape this… this prison. You told me—’
‘No, I didn’t!’ the sprite cried, flaring white in anger. ‘You said that, and I just… let you believe it. It’s not the same. I’m not—’
‘You deceived me, and you used me to conduct your own personal vendetta against Grimrock!’ I shot back at her. ‘You never cared about me, not really!’
‘And you never cared about the gnomes!’ I froze. Now that hurt, mostly because I knew it to be true, at least when I’d started out. ‘You’ve been using them – and me – to further your own selfish cause. You let me believe you were a good person, Corey – yet now I learn you’ve only been doing it for your own ends? You and Grimrock deserve each other.’
Ket drew herself up and delivered a final parting shot:
‘Accept your fate or rail against it, dark elf. Either way, I want no part of it.’
There was a faint dusting of sparks as the sprite zipped away down the tunnel, and then she was gone.
Forty
Melancorey
I didn’t quite believe Ket was really gone. Or rather, I didn’t believe she’d stay gone. But when the next few days passed in a fugue of silent misery, I finally realized the sprite was not coming back.
&
nbsp; At first, I was angry. No, I was furious. How dare she accuse me of being evil simply because I’d been a dark elf in my previous life? Racist much? And now she’d left me right after a crushing defeat. Sure, she seemed confident that Grimrock’s army was depleted enough that no immediate follow-up attack was forthcoming, but still.
Moreover, she’d deceived me into following her pointless instructions this whole time, allowing me to believe that Ascension would eventually lead me to find a way to escape my gem. I’d basically wasted my days attempting to develop my new settlement and reach a point where these hapless gnomes would be better placed to defend themselves – a futile task, I now knew.
All around me, life in the Grotto went on much the same as usual, but I found I could no longer bring myself to care about it. Without Ket there to pick me up and set me on the right path, I instead spent the hours replaying my memories of the battle over and over again – a uniquely repetitive, and effective, method of self-torture.
Swamped by the sensation of my own impotency, I silently despaired. A good god – as Ket had tried, and failed, to mold me into – would shrug off adversity. A good god would put their denizens’ needs first, and focus on continuing to build up the tribe no matter what threats they were due to face in the coming days.
But I was no god; I was barely even a guardian. Nor was I ‘good’ by any stretch of the imagination. I should be taking care of the gnomes, yet instead I was as distant from them as I had been on day one. I should be seeking alternatives, not wallowing in self-pity and despair.
I should be repopulating the tunnels and caves that comprised the various routes to the Grotto, replacing the forrels, the boulderskins, and the whipfish that had fallen in defense of our little civilization.
I didn’t need to look at the Augmentary to know that the empty creature slots vastly outnumbered the full ones. I knew full well that the only remaining god-born were Binky the spider, a single forrel, and the four skelemanders that still watched the periphery of my Sphere of Influence.