The Moons of Mirrodin (7 page)

It was gone. Glissa stared into the Tangle, looking for the figure, but saw nothing but trees, now whipping by at an incredible speed as the leveler ran. She looked down at the beast and watched as its feet swung back and forth so fast they turned into a blur. Glissa reached down to pull the sword out, intending to strike the beast again.

Something struck her head and knocked her down onto the beast’s back. Everything darknened around her. Turning her aching head to look behind, the last thing Glissa saw before she blacked out was a low-lying spire swaying back and forth from a sharp impact.

SLOBAD

Glissa moaned and rolled over in her sleep. It felt as if her foot was caught in the leather blanket on her bed, so she tried to kick it off … and screamed. Pain shot up Glissa’s leg from her ankle. Something was cutting into her flesh. She opened her eyes, but it was pitch black, and she had no idea where she was. She pushed herself up and hit her head on the ceiling.

“What the flare is going on?” muttered the elf. She began to remember: trolls, levelers, her parents, Lyese. It all came rushing back to her like a nightmare. There was no time to dwell on that pain or the one in her ankle. She was caught in the broken blades of a leveler. Where had it taken her? Glissa squinted into the darkness, trying to make out anything around her. As her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she could see the curving back of the leveler beneath her. Similar curved shapes surrounded her.

Where am I? she thought. Am I in their lair? They weren’t moving, and she was afraid to wake them up, much as she wanted to kill them all. If they were asleep, it would be better if she freed herself and found her way out. She wouldn’t stand a chance in the dark with her injured ankle. Glissa inched her way down toward the blades, wincing every time her ankle moved against the blades. More than once she banged her head against the low ceiling.

Finally she got both hands on her aching foot and tried to ease it from the viselike grip of the broken blades. The leather had
taken the brunt of the blade, so her ankle wasn’t cut too badly. At least, she couldn’t feel any blood dripping. Perhaps she could pull her foot from the boot. When she tried, Glissa bit her lip to suppress another scream. Even the slightest movement pressed the blade into her flesh. Her ankle must have swelled inside the boot.

She saw two options. She could yank her boot and leg from the blades and risk cutting her foot off, or she could use the sword. In the dark, a false move with the blade would risk injuring the foot more than it was or, worse, waking up every leveler in the lair. She weighed the options and decided to go for her weapon. At least she would be armed if they woke up.

Slowly Glissa pushed her way back toward the sword, which she hoped was still sticking from the back of the beast. She found the hilt and pulled it out. The scraping sound of metal against metal echoed around the cavern, making the back of Glissa’s neck tingle, but the beasts didn’t wake.

Holding the sword straight out in front of her to avoid the low ceiling, Glissa inched her way toward the blades again. She thought she saw movement from the corner of her eye, but when she peered around the cavern, all she could see were dark shapes against a sea of black. She leaned down toward her foot and reached out with her free hand to gauge the distance and angle. She pulled the sword back to strike.

“You don’t want to do that, huh? You don’t want to do that. You might hit me with that thing, huh?”

Glissa froze in mid-swing and stared into the darkness. The fast-talking voice definitely came from outside her own mind. She could still hear the last “huh” echoing in the darkness.

“Who said that?” she asked. “Who’s there?”

“It’s only me,” came the reply. “Slobad,” the voice added, as if that helped Glissa understand. “You need some help, huh? Slobad will help you if you need some help. Do you want some help, huh?”

“I can’t see you,” said Glissa, worried about what kind of help
this Slobad was offering. He spoke so fast, she could hardly follow him. She hoped he couldn’t move that fast.

“Are your eyes broken, huh? I see you fine. I see girl caught in blades who needs help. So, do you want help, huh?”

“No,” replied Glissa. “I mean, yes, I need help, but no, my eyes aren’t broken. It’s pitch-black in here. My eyes don’t see well in the dark.”

There was no reply. Glissa could hear shuffling noises and the muted clink of metal, but she couldn’t tell what the mysterious stranger was doing. She moved her sword to a defensive position.

“Whoa. I told you not to wave that thing around,” snapped Slobad. “You almost cut off my ear. Wait for the light, huh? I’m getting a light so you can see. Stupid eyes that can’t see in dark. Huh.”

A moment later, Glissa heard a click, and a bright red flame erupted from the darkness. Standing beside her was an odd-looking creature holding a metal tube. The short but intense flame came from the top of the tube with a faint hiss. As Glissa’s eyes adjusted to the light, she could see more of Slobad’s features. He was short but had arms that reached down to his knees. His arms ended not in hands but in something more like fangren claws. His nose and ears were long and sharply pointed. The ends gleamed in the flickering light. Slobad’s nose and ears were metallic like her own arms and legs. He was dressed in ragged scraps of leather that barely covered his rust-colored skin. A large leather bag that hung around his neck covered much more than his actual clothes.

“What … what are you?” asked Glissa. She had never been outside the Tangle. Until now she never really believed the stories told by infirm elders of other races in the world. Her father told her that those stories were flare-induced hallucinations.

“You’ve never seen a goblin, huh?” said Slobad. “I know you. You’re an elf, an elf who’s come from Tangle on the back of leveler. You are one crazy elf, huh?”

“What do you want?” asked Glissa. “Are you the master of these foul creatures?”

Slobad snorted. “You quick to accuse, huh?”

Glissa’s stomach turned over. Kane had always joked that she was paranoid, but now someone really was trying to kill her. Quick accusation or not, could the culprit be the goblin? He had her at a severe disadvantage. He knew what she was and where she was from, and seemed at ease here in the lair of the levelers.

“Slobad is only master of Slobad, huh? Not master of the levelers or any other being,” said the goblin. “Taking care of me is full-time job, but I can help one crazy elf in my spare time, huh? At least I’ll have somebody to talk to for a while.” Slobad moved to the front of the leveler.

“What are you doing?” asked Glissa.

“I’m going to get you free, huh?” said Slobad. “That’s what we’ve been talking about. You want to stay up there or come with me and hide?”

Slobad placed his fire tube on the ground and reached into the leather bag slung across his chest. He rooted around, almost plunging his whole head inside the pouch. Finally he brought out a copper-colored tool. Glissa could now see that the goblin did have fingers ending in long, thick claws. His hands were curved like hooks and his fingers were much shorter than the claws extending out from them.

He handled the tool nimbly with his short fingers. If he wasn’t the master of these creatures, he certainly knew more about them than she did. She decided she had to trust him. She couldn’t get free by herself. Besides, she still had her sword, which she continued to hold defensively in front of her, ready to strike. Slobad crawled under the blades and lay on his back, looking up at the leveler. Glissa leaned over and could just see the tip of the two-pronged tool moving back and forth underneath the row of broken blades. A moment later, the tool clanked
to the floor of the chamber and Slobad grasped one of the blades with both hands.

“Don’t touch those,” said Glissa. “They’re sharp.”

“Don’t worry, huh?” said Slobad. “Goblins don’t cut easily. We’re thick and strong like the mountains. Have you seen mountains? I’ll show you when we get out of here.” The goblin pulled half the blade away, and Glissa’s foot was free. He tucked the broken blade into his pouch, then inched his way out from under the leveler.

Glissa slid off the back of the leveler, gasping when she landed. She nearly lost her balance as her ankle buckled under her. The elf shot her hand out and slammed it into the side of the leveler to keep her from crumpling to the ground. Looking over at the injured beast, she muttered, “Does nothing wake these creatures from their slumber?”

Slobad came up beside Glissa and stuck his clawlike hand out to her. The flame tube in the goblin’s other hand spread enough light around them to show the three closest levelers. “They not sleeping, huh? They turn off in here. They not beasts. You think they’re beasts, huh? Crazy elf.”

“They’re not alive?” asked Glissa, leaning against the goblin for support.

“You see their metal blades and legs? Their glass domes? Do you see any flesh, huh? Any?” asked Slobad, pointing to the leveler.

“Well, I’m alive and I have metal arms and legs. You have a metallic … uh … nose.”

“Levelers are all metal,” said Slobad, “inside and out. I know, huh? I open them up and look.”

“They’re constructs?” asked Glissa, realizing what that meant. “Somebody made these … things … and sends them out to kill?” She pushed off the goblin and raised her sword.

“Whoa, crazy elf lady,” said Slobad. “We’re safe in here, huh?
This is safest place on Mirrodin. Blades turn off as soon as they enter. They only hunt outside cavern. That’s why Slobad live here. It safest place I know.”

Glissa ignored him. The rage over her family’s death had returned. Someone had created these killing machines! Well, she was going to put a stop to it.

“Out of the way, Slobad.”

She balanced on her good foot and swung her blade at the leveler that had held her captive. Sparks flew from the sword as it tore through the metallic body. Her first swing lopped off the construct’s front end, sending the rest of its broken blades clattering to the floor. She swept the sword underneath the creature, slicing off the legs. As the leveler flopped to the floor in front of her, Glissa brought the sword down, cutting a huge gash in its side.

She struck again and again until all that was left in front of her was a pile of ragged metal. At last she stopped, breathing heavily.

“You done now?” asked Slobad. “Feel better, huh?”

“They killed my family,” snarled the elf. “This one slaughtered my sister. I won’t feel better until I destroy them all.”

“Then what?” asked Slobad. “More will come. They always do, huh? Broken ones get fixed, missing ones are replaced. It’s better to hide and live than seek revenge and die, huh?”

Glissa nodded. Inwardly she resolved to find the true master of these beasts and exact her revenge where it would matter. Meanwhile …

She grabbed Slobad’s shoulder and hobbled along beside the goblin. Her ankle was swollen so much it ached constantly inside her boot. Even the slight pressure from limping shot searing pain up her leg. Perhaps the goblin was right, after all. She needed to hide and rest before seeking her revenge.

On their way through the cavern, Glissa saw something glint in the goblin’s firelight. She glanced over at the shiny object, then stopped and stared in horror.

“What’s the matter now, huh?” asked Slobad. “You want to destroy that one, too? It won’t bring back your family. It will just make more trouble for us. Come on, huh?”

“I’m not going to destroy anything,” said Glissa, her voice low and measured as she fought to remain calm in the light of her discovery. “Give me a moment, will you?”

She left the goblin’s side and hopped over to a leveler nearby. She leaned on its side and reached out toward the blades arrayed across its front. The object was still out of her reach, so she leaned even farther. Just before losing her balance, she grabbed the object, then pushed herself away from the leveler to regain her balance.

“What did you find, huh?” asked Slobad when she hopped back over to him.

Glissa showed him. It was a severed hand. An elf hand with long, delicate fingers tipped with sharp claws. The wrist was red and moist, though the blood had all but drained from it.

“That’s my mother’s wedding ring,” said Glissa. “It’s been passed down from mother to son for generations. Nobody knows what the gem is anymore, or the metal.”

Glissa pulled the ring off the hand and placed it on her own finger. She kissed the fingers of the severed hand and tenderly laid it aside. “It’s all I have left of them.”

*   *   *   *   *

A subdued Glissa let Slobad lead her to the back of the chamber and through a small hole hidden in the wall. She crawled through the hole behind the goblin into a small room where Slobad obviously lived. It wasn’t much to look at. He had spread a couple of furs on the floor in one corner. A small table and chair stood in the center and another, larger table was placed against the far wall, covered with small tools and scraps of metal. After hiding
the hole with a small section of wall, Slobad put the flame tube on the table and picked up a knife.