The Moons of Mirrodin (20 page)

She jumped down to the terrace that held so many memories for her and jogged over to the trunk. The vorrac horn was still lodged in the knothole. The golem dropped to the terrace behind Glissa as she felt around for the catch within the knothole. After a few minutes, she heard a metallic click, then a grinding sound as the door opened. She slipped inside to the landing and waved Slobad after.

The goblin dropped off the back of his metal friend and led the golem through the door. It was a tight fit, but after some jostling, the golem crawled through the doorway. Glissa released the catch, and the door slid closed behind them.

“Stay here,” she said. “I don’t want to give the old troll a seizure.”

She bounded up the tunnel to the chamber outside Chunth’s bedroom. She was just about to knock on the wall that hid his room, when from behind her came shouts of trolls and the unmistakable sound of Slobad’s fire tube igniting. She heard the metallic scrape of weapons being drawn.

Glissa turned back toward Chunth’s door, but it was already open.

“Good morning, Chunth,” she said as the stooped figure of a troll appeared in the doorway. “I’ve returned.”

“In much the same way you left, I see,” said the old troll, gazing down the tunnel. “Do come in. We have much to discuss, and each day brings the convergence that much closer.”

“I brought friends,” said Glissa, pointing down the steps. “I don’t want them harmed.”

“It will sort itself out, young one,” said Chunth. He chuckled. “I will send word to put your friends into guest quarters.” He moved as if to put an arm around her shoulders.

“Hold on there, old one!” growled Glissa. She evaded his embrace. “You don’t get to play the doting uncle just yet.”

She stalked into the room and dropped onto Chunth’s chair facing the door.

“You kidnapped me and allowed my family to die. Before we discuss anything, you are going to tell me why that was necessary and who is trying to kill me.”

Chunth called down the steps, “Stand down. They are guests. Give them quarters and anything else they need. I am not to be disturbed.” He turned and entered the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, my girl,” he said. “What did you say?”

“My parents. Why did they have to die?”

“I told you before, Glissa,” the old troll said sadly. “You are the most important person on Mirrodin. We had to keep you safe. I am sorry your family was killed, but if you had been asleep when the levelers came, you would have died with them.”

“You mean you hoped to fool the assassin into thinking I was dead,” spat Glissa, “by letting my parents and sister get torn to pieces by those machines.”

Chunth hesitated just long enough that the elf knew she was right.

“We were merely trying to save you.”

“Liar!”

Chunth walked over to the table. The light from the gelfruit illuminated the leathery skin of the old troll’s face. His eyes glistened in the light, and Glissa thought she saw a tear roll down one cheek. “Glissa,” he said. “I am sorry about your family. I did what I had to do to save our world. The fate of all rests on you now.”

Glissa shook her head. It was almost too much to take in. “Why? What’s so special about me?”

“You need to know everything now.”

“Yes,” said Glissa slowly. “I do.”

The troll sat across from her and poured them both a cup of water. “You are a nexus, Glissa,” he said after taking a sip. “A nexus of great power waiting to be unleashed.”

“What in the flare are you talking about?”

“Precisely,” said Chunth. “Your flares. They have been unusual, haven’t they?”

“How do you know that?”

“It is one of the signs of your power,” said the troll. “Tell me about them.”

Glissa shook her head angrily. “I don’t have time for this.
Someone is trying to kill me!
”

“This is important,” said Chunth. “No one can hurt you here. Tell me about your flares. Then I will explain what I can.”

Glissa sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Lately, they’ve been the same scene each time, but I’ve never seen this place before. I’m in a strange forest that’s both soft and bright. There are no moons, but there is a large … sun—a word I’d never heard until I left the Tangle. My clothes are different.
I’m
different. My arms and legs are all fleshy.”

“How does it end?” asked Chunth. He seemed unsurprised by her description. Of course, he had no metal on his body, either, so maybe it wasn’t so strange to him.

“I’m drawn to a clearing. There is some strange energy glowing in the middle. Elves are all around me, walking toward the energy.”

“Then it flashes?”

“Yes,” said Glissa. She stared at the old troll. “How did you know? Trolls don’t have flares.”

“Those are racial memories, Glissa,” said Chunth. “You are connected to the elves and to the mana of the forest at a primal level. Your flares show you visions not of your own life but of the life of your people … even of their life before the Tangle.”

“Before the Tangle?” She laughed. “There was nothing before the Tangle.”

“You know that is not true, don’t you?” said Chunth. “You have seen the green forest, the bright yellow sun, and the vine-covered elves.”

“So you’ve had these visions as well?”

“No,” said Chunth. “The memories I have of the time before the Tangle are my own. I was there. I remember my forest. I remember the world of the trolls before the Tangle.”

Glissa was silent for a moment as she fought to absorb this.

“And the energy?” she asked. “The flash of white light? Do you remember that?”

“Yes. It was different for the trolls but the same as well.”

“Don’t start talking in riddles again, old one,” she scolded. “Speak clearly, or I swear I’ll go live with the goblins.”

“I do not know what the ball of energy was,” said Chunth, “or how it worked. It changed the world of the trolls. We exchanged our world for his world … this world.”

Glissa caught the swift change. “
His
world?” Glissa remembered something Slobad had said about the golems. They were from before the time of elves and goblins. She looked at Chunth. “Do you mean Memnarch’s world?”

Chunth stared back at Glissa, the cup of water halfway between the table and his mouth. “Where did you hear that name?” he asked at last. “Did it come to you in one of your flares?”

“No,” said Glissa. She had finally wrested control of the conversation back from the troll and felt an odd sense of triumph at having done so. “The golem said it when he saw this.” She pulled the vial from her boot sheath and placed it on the table. “Who or what is Memnarch? Is that who’s trying to kill me? Whoever made this serum used it to make the nim attack us.”

Chunth dropped his cup on the floor and picked up the vial of serum. “I never should have let you go into the world alone,” he said softly. “Listen, Glissa. You possess a power—a gift—within you that some wish to use for their own ends. If you are not careful—”

“Yes, I know,” interrupted Glissa. “End of the world, death to us all. I heard the same thing from an old leonin seer. I expected
a more direct answer from you. Why save me from the levelers if all I can bring to this world is death?”

“Death is not your gift,” said Chunth. “I told you, you are a nexus of power. You must learn to harness that power before the convergence or it may well
be
the end of the world.”

“Then teach me, O wise one,” said Glissa. “Show me how to use my power, and I will save the world. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“It is not as easy as that,” said Chunth. An urgency in his voice made Glissa suspend her sarcasm and listen. “You may not know the right thing to do when the time comes. You don’t understand.”

“Help me understand,” said Glissa softly. “Look, I know you sent me out with this sword to try to save my family. I’m grateful for that. But I need some answers. Who is Memnarch? What is the serum? Who is trying to kill me? How do I stop all of this?”

Chunth took a deep breath, settled down into the chair, and closed his eyes. “All right. No more riddles,” he said. “I will tell you what I know. The person behind this must be a vedalken.”

“Vedalken?”

“They dwell on the Quicksilver Sea, past the Mephidross. The vedalken harvest the serum you have there. They crave power and are willing to do anything to gain it.”

“Even kill,” said Glissa.

“Oh yes,” replied Chunth. His thick lips curled in an unpleasant smile. “The vedalken have killed millions over the years … maybe more. This vial of serum alone cost the lives of a score of blinkmoths.”

“What are blinkmoths?”

“They are what you see at night. You imagine they are the stars above and the fireflies that roam the Tangle. They are living creatures, lighting the sky with their serum-filled bodies, raining water down upon the land. For hundreds of cycles the vedalken have harvested them.”

“Why?”

“The vedalken drink the serum to gain knowledge of the world and knowledge of Memnarch,” said Chunth. His eyes grew distant. “I, too, drank the serum, once. Long ago, when the Tree of Tales had but a few runes etched into its base, I learned of the blinkmoths and many other secrets of this world. It is an amazing liquid. It unlocks the knowledge of the world, its creation, and its creator. A taste provides visions of the mysteries of the cosmos. A vial such as this can begin a journey toward unlocking those mysteries.”

“That sounds wonderful,” said Glissa. “Why not use the serum to help us live better lives? We could learn to control the levelers, make it rain more often, begin to master this planet.… Oh! I see.”

“Yes,” said Chunth. “You see. Where does it end? Even the most altruistic among us would eventually use the power for personal ends. That path inevitably leads to ruin. Power and greed together are always destructive, and the price for the power is too high. The vedalken have murdered blinkmoths by the millions to attain their current stature.”

“Are these vedalken a tall, robed people with domes for heads?”

Chunth nodded. “They were not always as you see them now. Their race has evolved far beyond any of the others on Mirrodin.”

“Because of the serum?”

Chunth nodded again.

“But why do the vedalken want me dead?” the elf persisted. “If they have all this power, what do they want with me?

“That I do not know,” said Chunth. “They are playing at being gods. They have the knowledge of the ancients but not the power to wield it. Perhaps they fear your power. Perhaps they wish to harness it. I do not know.”

“Or perhaps they just want to stop me from destroying the world,” said Glissa drily. “If Ushanti of the leonin had the power,
she would kill me. What of this Memnarch? Is he the leader of the vedalken?”

Chunth looked weary. His eyes were closed and he was rubbing his temples with his fists. Glissa wasn’t sure he’d even heard her questions. Perhaps she should let the old troll rest and begin again later. At last he spoke.

“For many hundreds of cycles now, I have tried to keep the elves and trolls safe in the Tangle. I kept knowledge of the blinkmoths a secret to prevent our races from falling victim to the allure of their power. I erased all mention of the old world from the histories so the elves and trolls would not search for their pasts. But you need to know of Memnarch. You need to know the truth.”

The metal door scraped across the floor behind Chunth, and the old troll turned. Glissa looked up. Another troll stood in the open doorway. It was not one of the guards. He wore the robes of an elder.

Chunth barked, “I left instructions not to be disturbed. What is so urgent?”

The troll in the doorway did not speak. Instead he lifted his metal-clad arm and turned his wrist over. Glissa could see something cupped in his fist—a blue orb that gleamed in the dim light of the gelfruit.

“What is that?” demanded Chunth. “What are you doing?”

“She must die,” responded the elder in a faint voice. He opened his fist, and the orb flashed. A bolt of blue lightning streaked across the room. Glissa dived off her chair as Chunth jumped to his feet in front of her. The lightning slammed into the old troll’s chest, knocking him back onto the table.

He crashed to the floor, taking the table, cups, and gelfruit with him. The vial of serum flew from his hand. Glissa tried to move, but her foot was pinned beneath the broken table. She stared helplessly as the elder in the doorway held the orb out again, his palm facing Glissa.

Nothing happened.

He shook the orb, trying to make it work. His eyes strayed to the floor and widened when he saw the vial of serum. Glissa pulled frantically on her foot but could not free it. The elder smiled a toothy grin, scooped up the vial of serum, and turned and fled down the tunnel. Glissa looked from the empty doorway down to Chunth, sprawled atop her leg. A huge hole penetrated his chest, and he was gasping for air.

“Glissa …” he wheezed. “I must … tell you.…”

Glissa lifted the old troll’s fleshy head and cradled it in her arms.

“Don’t speak,” she said. “I’ll get help.” With an agonizing jerk, she pulled her foot free.

“No time,” he rasped. “You need … to know.”

“What is it?” said Glissa. She could feel tears on her face.

“The world,” said Chunth. Blood trickled from his mouth as he spoke. “Not … what it seems. It … is …”

“What?”

“Hollow.”

Chunth’s eyes closed, and his head sagged into Glissa’s arms.

ASSASSIN