A World of Secrets (The Firewall Trilogy)

by James Maxwell

  He now wrapped a hand around the hilt and whirled.

  32

  Taimin wasn’t alone on the platform.

  A clawed hand shot out to clasp the hilt of his sword. A face drew close to his. He saw a wedge-shaped head and a flat face with dark red, leathery skin. A gaping maw revealed rows of sharp teeth. As he stared into a pair of black eyes, he grimaced and struggled to move his hand.

  His mind worked furiously as his heart thudded with a heavy, irregular beat. The two creatures he had encountered in the gorge . . . somehow, they were here. He was looking at a member of the race that built the city of Zorn. This machine was theirs.

  Strangely, it was the smaller of the pair who held him: the female. Her short, pointed horns, pale yellow in color, were blunt rather than sharp. She nonetheless stood at eight feet tall and her arms were as long as Taimin’s legs. She was clad in the same drab gray clothing she’d worn when he last saw her at the cliff. His spinning thoughts even took note of the fact that she was covered in dust.

  He struggled to understand. Previously she had hung back, unarmed and somehow less menacing as she watched her larger companion. Taimin’s eyes moved. His fear grew until he felt sick in the stomach.

  The tall, powerfully framed giant with curling horns waited expectantly on the floor below the platform, legs apart and spear at the ready. He regarded Taimin with eyes like glowing embers. The ridges on his nightmare face had narrowed, giving him an expression of utter ferocity. His nostrils flared as he breathed in and out. The symbol blazoned on his costume matched the style of the marks above each of the corridors.

  Standing on the platform, in the grip of a stronger opponent, Taimin was in a difficult but not impossible situation. His aunt had taught him to use his body in agile, unpredictable ways. He could duck and twist to get out of the hold. There was a chance he would lose his sword in the process, but if he moved in the right way, he should be able to keep it. It was a risk he was going to have to take.

  As he tensed, prepared to take action, the bigger giant growled something unintelligible to the female; he appeared to be giving an instruction. The female gripped Taimin firmly, but had yet to hurt him in any way. She shifted and revealed something in her other hand.

  It was the black box with the glossy surface that Taimin had seen previously. His breath caught. Fear and confusion fought each other in his mind. Lights sparkled across the box’s black surface. He had no idea what she was about to do, but he knew it couldn’t be anything good. She had fixed her attention on his foot. He had to take action now.

  Even as he moved, she squeezed the box.

  Swift as an arrow, a web of dancing lights and slithering wires launched from the box to wrap around Taimin’s lower leg. He gasped as his entire world filled with pain.

  Taimin’s assailant let go of his hand, but any notion of drawing his sword fled completely. He collapsed, sprawled out on the wide platform. The female giant straightened and patiently gripped the flashing metal box. The web of wires tightened as it enveloped Taimin’s foot and lower leg. Lights danced on every strand. Shimmering colors traveled over the web as the terrible constriction continued. Jolts of agony pulsed through his body. Each flickering light stabbed needles into his flesh. The wires crackled like snapping branches. He screamed.

  He was vaguely aware of the two creatures watching silently, the female with an aura of concentration, the male with impatience.

  Then something strange happened.

  As Taimin lay on the hard floor, body twitching and eyes darting around while he alternated screams and drawn-out moans of agony, he felt a completely new sensation. The pain began to ebb. His screams died away as he experienced a strange pulling together, a re-forming and renewal.

  His bones were shifting. Something ruined was reassembling. The feeling of needles deep inside his foot changed to pulsating crunches, then altered again to a dull ache. Relief replaced the pain. The lights dancing along the web changed: soon the rainbow of color traveling through the wires was all gold, and then pale blue.

  Taimin’s eyes widened.

  He took stock of himself. There was no pain at all. He was on his back, his stunned gaze fixed on the female giant with the black metal box.

  She nodded as if satisfied. After a short pause she squeezed the box once more. The web of wires unraveled itself from Taimin’s lower leg and vanished in an instant, returning to the box’s interior.

  She then turned and walked away, leaving Taimin alone on the platform. He slowly climbed to his feet. Both feet. He couldn’t believe what had just happened to him. He could stand without the usual shift to the side to relieve the pressure on his right foot. There was no denying the evidence of his own body.

  At the very moment when he had finally accepted himself, injury and all, these strange creatures had forced a change on him. They had put him back to the way he was born.

  Somehow, unbelievably, he had been healed.

  The two giants watched from a short distance away. This was their place. Neither of them paid any regard to the aurelium that swirled through the air and coated the walls. The ground rumbled and a powerful exhalation came from deep within the void. Meanwhile, the representation of the firewall continued to pulse as it hovered above the table at the platform’s edge.

  Taimin’s relief shifted to fear. He knew these two strange creatures weren’t finished with him yet. They wanted something from him; that much was clear.

  The tall giant spoke. “You. Taimin. Fight.”

  To emphasize his words, he shook his spear and then pointed the blade of silver metal at its end. The female began to walk away, leaving her bigger, stronger companion standing below the platform.

  Taimin reached for the hilt of his sword and drew it with a shaking hand. As the steel whispered against the leather scabbard, the tall giant nodded.

  Meanwhile, the female returned to the pose she had adopted when Taimin first saw her. She waited apart from her companion, not far from one of the corridors. She held her box at the ready.

  Taimin knew he had no other choice. He stepped down from the platform. The green glow shining from the walls silhouetted the figure in front of him. Taimin’s breath misted in the cold air. The tall giant exhaled his own cloud of vapor.

  Taimin came to a halt, sword held ready. His palms were sweaty despite the cold. Whatever his enemy was, he had an unusual sense of honor. When he saw that Taimin was crippled he had left him alone. But now he had returned, and healed him, so they could fight on equal terms.

  Memories of the arena in Zorn resurfaced. The situation Taimin now found himself in was much the same. He was about to battle for his life. He had to control his fear. Fear slowed the limbs and clouded the mind. He drew deep breaths to flood his lungs with air. He loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword; he had to hold it firmly, but not too tight.

  In his search for courage, he reminded himself that he had learned to fight despite his injury. He had two good legs underneath him, and would surely fight better than he ever had before.

  To survive, he would have to.

  “You. Taimin?” the creature with the curling horns asked in a rasping voice.

  “I am.”

  The monster came forward with long, powerful strides. He moved much faster than his size would indicate.

  Taimin shifted to the side, holding his sword point between them.

  The tall giant attacked.

  Vance groaned. Lars leaned on him as they left the cave behind, and the older man wasn’t small. Each step was hard fought. Lars staggered from side to side as Vance struggled to keep them both on their feet. Meanwhile, Vance’s attention was on Ruth. She stood frozen in place, with her arm twisted behind her back and a javelin’s point pressed to her face.

  “Get your feet under you,” Vance wheezed. “I can’t do this alone.”

  “I’m trying,” Lars grunted. “Just don’t . . . let me fall.”

  Kash watched impatiently as the two men made their laborious
way over to her. Lars tripped on a rock and nearly fell, but Vance caught him in time to settle him down to the ground.

  Vance immediately turned to Ruth. “Have they hurt you?”

  She shook her head. Her mouth was tight as Neesal held her fast.

  “What about me?” Lars muttered from the ground. “I’m hurt.”

  “Let her go,” Vance growled at Kash. “She’s a healer. My friend needs her help.”

  “The human female . . . Where is she?” Kash demanded. “Where are the giants?”

  “Selena’s inside.” Vance scowled. “She’s risking her life and you know it.”

  As Kash turned to confer with her companions, Vance looked at Ruth again. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  Some color had returned to her cheeks. “I’ll be fine.”

  Vance lifted his chin. “Kash,” he called, “I know your name, but you don’t know mine. I’m Vance. My injured friend is Lars. And the woman whose face you are about to cut is Ruth.” Neesal glanced at Kash, who nodded, and Vance was relieved to see the javelin move away from Ruth’s cheek. “Now, please,” he said firmly, “let her help my friend.”

  “No,” Kash snapped. “She stays where she is.” She glanced at her warriors. “Be ready. Whatever comes, attack without hesitation.”

  “My friend needs help,” Vance insisted.

  “Silence!” Kash hissed.

  Vance shook his head as he crouched to inspect the wound on Lars’s scalp. It was easier to see out in the open, despite the fading light. “How are you feeling?”

  “Never been better,” Lars muttered.

  “There’s a deep scrape and some blood. We need Ruth to look at it.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just don’t ask me to stand anytime soon.”

  As Vance continued to examine Lars’s wound, some of the skalen began to stir.

  “This is taking too long,” Neesal said as he focused his attention on the cave. “We should send another human.”

  Kash watched the entrance. “A little longer.”

  “If you had killed the humans when you had the chance, we would not be in this situation.”

  “Neesal, I am your clan leader.” Kash’s lips thinned. “Do as you are told.”

  “What is your plan?” Neesal persisted. “If we are to fight together, we cannot also worry about the humans with us here. We should kill them all.”

  Vance straightened and tried to ignore the sudden chill that trickled up and down his spine. “All of you. No one needs to die. We should work together instead. You think you have a machine that produces aurelium. We think it powers the firewall. What if we’re right?”

  Neesal shook his head. “Stories and lies.” As Ruth struggled, he pulled her in tighter. “Kash, you know I am making sense.” A series of nods and mutters from the younger skalen greeted his words. “Surely we plan to kill the humans anyway. If we do it now, we no longer have to watch our backs.”

  Vance looked to Kash for help; she was an unlikely ally, but surely she could do something. But Kash remained pensive. Vance’s fear grew when he saw that Neesal’s javelin had returned to Ruth’s cheek.

  “You are clan leader, so lead,” Neesal said forcefully. “Make a decision. We need to kill, and keep killing, until things go back to the way they were before.”

  Vance became frantic as Ruth stared at him. He tried to think what he could say to calm the situation. He had to do something. But he couldn’t think of any plan at all. Taimin and Selena had their own problems. Lars was injured. If Vance was going to do something, he needed to do it now.

  33

  The spear and the sword clashed together. Metal slid against metal while the muscles in Taimin’s arms screamed. He moved to yank his blade free. A quick sidestep gave him the potential to attack the giant’s back, but his opponent whirled to face him.

  Taimin needed to get in close, but the spear was long and every time he tried to shove it to the side, his opponent’s strength prevailed. He continued to circle and search for an opening.

  The sound of the two fighters’ heavy breathing mingled with the rumbles and hisses from the machine. The tall giant’s mouth was open as he panted, displaying his sharp yellow teeth. He tilted his triangular head, horns shifting with the motion, as he regarded the human warrior testing his skill. The temperature hadn’t changed, but Taimin was no longer cold. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

  Whatever the floor was made of, it provided solid footing, unlike the sands of the fighting pit in Zorn. For the first time in his life, Taimin was fighting on two good legs. His new dexterity felt incredible. He was faster than his opponent, and used his new speed to his advantage. As he watched his enemy’s narrowed eyes, trying to gauge his intentions, he made a sudden change in direction. The spear thrust at the wrong place, and Taimin charged.

  He took two swift steps to get inside the giant’s reach and slashed at his opponent’s chest. Sharp steel sliced through his enemy’s clothing. A thin line of red blood appeared in an instant. Taimin narrowly avoided the tip of the spear as it whistled past his cheek. He backed away and glanced at the wound he had opened.

  The cut wasn’t deep, but it proved Taimin’s steel could penetrate the giant’s rust-colored skin. His enemy could be killed.

  Now Taimin’s adversary initiated his own attack. Wielding his spear in both hands, he brought it sweeping from overhead and came forward, slicing at the air. Taimin fell back; he could try to deflect it, but it would only weaken his arms and he needed to save his strength.

  The fight had already taken him from the edge of the shaft, to the glowing wall, and back into the center of the space. He was keenly aware of the wall once again at his back. Green light bathed the giant’s face as he snarled. The light grew brighter. The wall was drawing too close. If Taimin was pinned against it, he would die.

  He dived to the ground. It was a maneuver that would previously have sent pain shooting up from his right foot, but he executed it perfectly. For a time he was close to the flashing spear. Then he was past the huge creature and rolling. He shot back to his feet, and for a brief moment Taimin’s opponent didn’t know where he was.

  Taimin slashed at the giant’s exposed back. This time his blade bit deep, opening up a hand-sized gash near the creature’s shoulder.

  The giant roared. The bellow was deafening. The giant’s body shuddered the moment the sword struck home. He didn’t just bleed; clearly he also felt pain. The giant spun and brought his spear down from overhead.

  Taimin took a risk. He leaped forward, toward the spear. The sweeping blade was a hair’s breadth from his body. He thrust the point of his sword toward the giant’s torso, attempting a killing strike, but his opponent arched his back and the thrust didn’t carry far enough.

  The spear came down again, quicker than Taimin had expected. He brought up his sword and a sharp clang split the air as he deflected it just in time. His arms groaned, but he only held the position for an instant before the two weapons scraped across each other.

  The giant recovered quickly. Forced to retreat, Taimin panted as he regarded his opponent, the strongest he had ever faced. The giant was huge, far bigger than any trull or bax, and more terrifying than a wyvern or a hellstinger scorpion. He had as much skill as Galen, the cold-hearted commander of Zorn’s city guard. He was obviously practiced with his weapon.

  Taimin remembered his aunt’s training—year after year of grueling practice as he fought her in daily combat. He had been taught to find an opponent’s weakness and strike without hesitation. He had survived every battle in the arena. He had defeated the man who killed his parents.

  But his doubt remained. He had employed every bit of skill he possessed, and still his opponent remained indomitable. Taimin had never fought an enemy like this. There was no advice from his aunt to draw on. If Taimin’s adversary had any weakness, he had yet to find it.

  Taimin continued to back away while he searched for an opportunity to strike. He saw his enemy was about to init
iate another attack and danced out of the way, thwarting the giant’s intentions. He was forced to put his back to the female, but nothing happened; she didn’t move. It seemed clear that she wouldn’t do anything but watch, standing ready in case she had to use her metal box to heal her companion.

  Taimin still couldn’t find his opening. Fatigue was wearing him down. He needed to distract his enemy.

  “You built the firewall?” he asked.

  The giant didn’t answer. He shifted his grip on his spear while Taimin circled. In a flash the tall creature launched his sharp blade toward Taimin’s chest. Taimin weaved and sent his own weapon crashing into the spear to knock it aside. The forceful impact made him grit his teeth.

  “Why?” Taimin demanded. “Why build it?”

  The giant swung his spear toward Taimin’s neck. Taimin ducked under it, sinking to a low crouch before springing up again.

  Still the giant showed no signs of tiring. He was breathing hoarsely, but Taimin’s chest was heaving as if he was in the middle of a sprint. He had the sense that his opponent could fight for hours.

  They had turned in the struggle, and Taimin realized he was now facing the solid sheen of aurelium clinging to the wall. The green glow was blinding and he tried to shift, but the giant moved with him. Sweat dripped into Taimin’s eyes, further blurring his vision.

  “Who are you?” Taimin asked. “Where do you come from?”

  There was no answer.

  Taimin decided to back away. The giant moved with him, occasionally swinging his spear with furious strikes that Taimin narrowly evaded. Forced to deflect the spear again, Taimin grimaced when the two weapons smashed together. If his sword had been made of basalt wood, rather than steel, he would already be dead.

  Crimson blood seeped from the thin gash on the giant’s lower chest. More blood dripped onto the gray floor. Meanwhile, the machine made the ground rumble. A rush of wind came from the direction of the deep shaft at Taimin’s back. Aurelium danced in front of his eyes, but he tried to ignore it.