The Swordmage Trilogy: Volume 02 - The Darkest Hour (4 page)

             
"Has already begun, yes! In the finding. Will begin with the making straight away."

             
Without another word, the gnome leaped from the bin and began to scamper back and forth between the piles, sorting the parts into smaller piles that the Xarundi couldn't hope to understand. He beckoned to an adolescent Chosen who had stopped tinkering with a machine of his own and was watching the gnome curiously.

             
"Yes, Your Holiness?"

             
"Keep an eye on that...creature. If he asks for anything, please see that he gets it. I'll be in my warren."

             
"As you command, Your Holiness."

             
Zarfensis suspected that if the gnome knew half as much as he was purported to, that the young Chosen might find himself apprenticing to the loathsome creature. He chastised himself for such an obscene thought and began the laborious trek to his warren.

Repugnant as it was, i
f Greneks could deliver what he promised, things would rapidly turn around within the Warrens. With two good legs, he would be as fearsome as ever and he would remind all of them of their place.

* * *

              No longer permitted in his traditional quarters, Zarfensis kept a small warren in the upper tunnels. Although the climb was greatly hampered by his crutch, he was in better spirits than when he had descended. However, by the time Zarfensis reached the warren, all he wanted to do was tuck his nose under his tail and go to sleep. Alas, that was not to be the case. His sensitive nose picked up the smell of another Chosen as soon as he neared his quarters. Xenir was waiting for him.

             
The Warleader's tail twitched vigorously, his ears flicking forward and back. The tells of his anticipation were as evident as the burning excitement in his one good eye. The blue fire positively danced with delight.

             
“I have news, Your Holiness,” Xenir said without preamble. “The northwestern team has sent back a runner. During one of the supply raids, they found the passage I saw in my vision.”

             
The High Priest lowered himself into a chair, propping the crutch against the wall beside him. That motion had become all too comfortable, almost a habit. Hopefully, soon, it would be a habit to be broken.

             
“Any idea what we might be chasing here, Xenir?”

             
The Warleader shook his head, visibly aggravated. “No, Your Holiness. Only that there is an object of immense power somewhere in the north, buried in the ice. I know it isn’t much to go on, but this vision is strong and it is insistent.”

             
Zarfensis rubbed his muzzle with both hands. He was so tired. Still, if Xenir's vision were accurate, they would have an item powerful enough to ensure that no one challenged their rule of the Chosen again. The risk they took in sending out raiding parties without the knowledge or consent of the council was great. However, if the raiders had located the tunnel that Xenir saw in his vision, the reward could be greater. He had no reason to doubt the Warleader. He had, after all, foretold their defeat at the hands of the Imperium.

             
“Then perhaps it’s time we consulted the Deep Oracle,” Zarfensis sighed.

             
Xenir tucked his tail between his legs, his ears laid back and his gums pulled up over his teeth. The stink of his fear was becoming more pervasive by the second.

             
“Is that…” Xenir licked his maw nervously. “Is that necessary?”

             
“Yes, Warleader, I believe it is.” Zarfensis could understand the Warleader's reluctance.

             
Buried in the deepest bowels of the Warrens, the Deep Oracle was an ancient spirit of immeasurable power. Zarfensis could count on one hand the number of times the Oracle had been consulted in the written history of the Chosen. It was an insidious thing, trapped there by a powerful shaman long ago with magic that had since been lost to the Xarundi. Its hunger for power could only be fed by runedust. The more it fed, the more powerful it was. The more powerful it was, the higher the chance that it might find a way to escape.

             
Consulting the Deep Oracle wasn't something to be considered lightly, but if there were an ancient relic buried somewhere in the north, it was likely that the Oracle would know of it.

             
“That journey isn't well managed on one leg, Your Holiness.” Xenir's tone was apologetic.             

             
“That might not be as much of an issue as you think, Xenir.” Zarfensis replied, his eyes flicking to the doorway where the adolescent Xarundi from the workshop had just appeared. “Yes?”

             
“The gnome wishes to see you, Your Holiness.”

             
Zarfensis was startled. “So soon? Did something go wrong?”

             
“It—“ The youngster had dropped his jaw in a grin. “You need to go see for yourself, High Priest. It is most impressive.”

             
“A gnome?” Xenir was aghast. “In the Warrens?”

             
Zarfensis struggled to his foot, tucking the crutch under his arm. He nodded at the Warleader. “A means to an end, my old friend.”

             
He dismissed the adolescent and turned to Xenir.

             
“The journey back down to the workshops will go faster with two. Will you accompany me, Brother?”

             
“Of course Your Holiness.”

* * *

The thing that sat on the floor of the workshop only vaguely resembled his missing leg. In fact, the most familiar part of the contraption was the large set of articulated claws at the end of the device. The rest of it was a mass of tubes, valves, and rods, connected by bundles of thick black cording. Xenir looked dubiously at the device. Zarfensis couldn't blame him.

Greneks, however, was delighted. He danced back and forth from one foot to the other, his large, thin fingers dancing to and fro in time to his antics. The High Priest thought that the little creature must have lost its mind.

"Is very good!" He said, his large eyes twinkling. "Is very good indeed. Much success with the finding and making. You will be a proud warrior again!"

"That remains to be seen," Zarfensis countered gruffly. "This looks as if a strong breeze would blow it to pieces."

Xenir chuckled and the gnome's ears went red. His eyes narrowed and he stabbed a narrow finger in the direction of the High Priest.

"You know nothing, Xarundi. The device is not attached and activated." He paused, peering at the large predator. "Perhaps if you lack such faith, I should just push the whole works into the furnace!"

Without another word, Greneks set words to actions, pushing the entire device toward the smelting furnace that burned at the end of the workshop. It was burning quite hot, the stifling warmth spreading out from its open maw and the red-orange flames dancing beyond. If the gnome pushed the device into that conflagration, it would be a ruin of melted metal in moments.

"NO!" Zarfensis roared, attempting to leap for the gnome. His good leg took the landing, but the crutch slipped out from under him, sending him sprawling across the floor between the gnome and the oven.

Xenir sprang forward, snarling. His ears were laid back along his head and the hair on the back of his neck stood out, making him appear larger than he was. This was a Xarundi at his most dangerous. Zarfensis had a sudden, vivid vision of the Warleader tearing the gnome to pieces and gorging on the bloody remains.

"Hold!" he cried, raising a hand to forestall Xenir's rage. Zarfensis pushed himself up off the floor, struggling to his feet. For a moment, it appeared that the Warleader was going to fall on the gnome regardless of the High Priest's imploring cry. After a longer pause than Zarfensis would have liked, the larger Xarundi got himself under control and backed away from the gnome.

It was just as well, Zarfensis thought, for the gnome had undergone a change of its own. The large black eyes were replaced by orbs that shone with crimson light. The long fingers had sprouted claws that were just as sharp and wicked as any Xarundi's, for all that they were smaller and shorter. It was the teeth that gave Zarfensis the most pause. The gnome's mouth was open wide, the front teeth having elongated into a row of vicious fangs perfect for tearing and rending flesh. Beyond the fangs, a second row of razor sharp teeth was visible.

This was no docile creature to be treated as prey. For the difference in size, the gnome was every ounce a predator in its own right. Zarfensis had misjudged the creature. He wouldn't do so again.

"Apologies, Greneks." The High Priest inclined his head toward the little creature, who was still shaking with suppressed rage. "My actions were unwise, and the Warleader was merely trying to protect me."

It took several moments for the gnome to return to a docile state. The fangs and claws retracted and the creature resumed the appearance it had had when they first entered the workshop. His enthusiasm, however, was greatly diminished. He peered warily at the two Xarundi, as if he was deciding whether or not he could trust them enough to turn over his device to these volatile creatures.

Finally, he steepled his long fingers under his chin and smiled tentatively. Zarfensis released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Yes, High Priest," the gnome nodded. "You will have your device and you will learn the strength of the gnomes. You!" He pointed to Xenir, his voice authoritative. "Help the High Priest to that bench." He stabbed a finger at the tall work bench that had been cleared of all the tools and materials the gnome had used to create the device.

With some effort, the Warleader helped the High Priest up onto the bench. At this level, the stump of Zarfensis's amputated leg was level with the gnome's eyes. The High Priest felt exposed and vulnerable. It wasn't a feeling he enjoyed during the best of times, and being so close to a creature that he had so badly underestimated only compounded the feeling. He wanted all of this to be over with, but it had begun at his bequest and he would see it through to its conclusion.

Greneks moved the device into position and Zarfensis saw for the first time that there was a hollow ring at the top, obviously meant for his stump. The inside of the ring was circled with curved metal teeth, each one attached to a tiny valve that continued deeper into the machinery. It was clear that once Zarfensis offered his leg to this device, those teeth would bite deeply into his flesh and they would not be removed. Not without removing the rest of the leg in the process.

The gnome noted Zarfensis's grimace and nodded.
"Yes, High Priest. Once conversion is made, device cannot be removed. Is a permanent installation."

Zarfensis's tongue snaked out, licking his maw in nervous agitation. He'd come this far. If the device could give him his mobility back, it was worth the price. It was worth any price.

"I understand. What's next?"

Greneks steadied the device with his hands and nodded toward the ring. "Lower your leg into the restraining harness until you feel it bite. I apologize for the...discomfort."

Zarfensis grunted. He inched closer to the edge of the bench and positioned his stump near the ring that was offered him. He glanced up at Xenir and was surprised to see the Warleader's tail between his legs. Perhaps he was more worried about this than the High Priest was. Mastering his indecision, Zarfensis shifted forward, plunging his stump into the restraining ring.

The agony was unimaginable. The roar that burst from the High Priest echoed off the chamber walls and forced both the gnome and Xenir to clasp their hands over their ears. Twelve teeth bit deeply into his flesh, drinking his blood. It was drinking in the purest sense. Zarfensis could feel tubes burrow into his leg from each of the teeth, stopping only when they found blood deep inside his leg. He could feel the valves moving against his skin, pumping his blood into the device for reasons that Zarfensis couldn't fathom and wasn't sure he wanted to.

After several moments, the pain faded to a dull roar and Zarfensis was able to focus on something other than the metal bits that had fused themselves to his flesh. He forced himself off the bench and onto the new leg, wincing as the pain flashed anew with his weight fully on the contraption of metal and elastic banding.

He lifted the leg experimentally, watching as the cording bunched around the levers and rods. The cording then, Zarfensis realized, replaced his muscles. The levers and rods and tubes were his skeleton, exposed without the benefit of skin or tissue to hide them from view. He took a tentative step forward, the clawed foot grasping the ground firmly under him. It would take getting used to, and it was heavy, but it was certainly preferable to the crutch. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a smile.

"Well done, Greneks. Well done indeed."

The gnome shook his head. "Is more to do, High Priest. Is only the attachment that is complete. Activation has not yet been finished."