Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum (25 page)

“A wife?” Nissa said.

The goblin nodded and turned to look at Goma Fada. Nissa also turned toward the mobile city, her
mind reeling from what Mudheel had said.
A kor and a goblin?
she thought. Nissa understood then why they traveled. Either of their people would strike them down for being together. Suddenly Nissa felt pity for Mudheel, but also shuddered at the though of their unnatural coupling.
Goblins!
she thought.

In the bright glare she could barely make out hundreds of small buildings, some with pointed roofs and others with flat. Large dulam beasts were pulling the buildings.

The Goma Fada Caravan was slow moving and they made their hobbling way to it just as the sun was fading. It was a huge caravan, composed of hundreds and hundreds of enormous wagons. Each cart held a small building of wood or mud. One that Nissa saw was a small stone holdfast with turrets and a portcullis. Some of the carts were long and flat and pulled by braces of dulam beasts. Those were filled with dirt and plants. One such cart had a small grove of fig trees growing in it.

A flock of birds flying above the caravan cried out as the party approached. Soon a merfolk riding a slim beast rode out to meet them. He pulled up on the reins, and the animal snorted and stopped. Nissa noticed that the bit and bridle were studded. She had never liked bits and bridles. She was not sure she liked the merfolk rider, either.

He was dressed in long flowing white robes. A hood was pulled up over his head to keep the sun out. His lips, painted to accentuate their natural blue, pulled tight into a mirthless smile. His green eyes glinted beneath the shadow of his hood. “Yes?” he said.

“We mean no harm,” Nissa said. Suddenly the sun felt very heavy on her shoulders. She took a step, and the world moved its alignment. She touched the vial
around her neck, but it was not boiling. “We are in need of water,” she said.

The rider looked from her to Sorin, to Smara, to Mudheel, and finally to Anowon, where his eyes stayed. “The vampire is not welcome,” he said. “But I will be the benefactor for the rest of you. Do you have coin? Strangers must have a benefactor to enter the caravan. There are no exceptions. Hurry, the Caravan Sheriff will arrive shortly.”

Nissa waited for Sorin to speak. When he did not, she opened her mouth. “We have no coins,” she said. “But we have items of power.”

The merfolk rider waited. “If you say hedron chips I will call the Sheriff myself right now,” he said.

Nissa thought desperately for something they could barter with. “We have teeth,” she said.

“Teeth?”

“Magic teeth.”

“Let me see,” the merfolk said.

Nissa turned to Anowon, who was scowling. “The teeth are owned by the vampire,” she said.

“Perhaps he can enter if properly bound. Let me see these teeth,” the merfolk repeated. He held out his hand, palm up. “What kind are they?” he asked. When Anowon did not move, the caravaner snapped his webbed fingers.

“They are merfolk teeth,” Anowon said, and seized the emissary.

T
he hardest part was hiding the body. Anowon had the sense to grab the merfolk and drag him between two carts to do what he did there, while the rest of them kept a look out. Nissa felt the bitter gorge rise in her throat as the merfolk thrashed. Amazingly, nobody in the caravan had seemed to notice. At least nobody had said anything. An if someone
had
seen Anowon drain the merfolk, they had not raised an alarm. It was the time of the day when people eat before the night comes, Nissa guessed, and the occupants of the caravans were inside.

Anowon disposed of the body by hoisting it and propping it against the side of a smooth adobe house built atop a wagon. The merfolk’s legs hung over the side of the platform.

They walked into the midst caravan, where it was shady and strangely cool. A wagon with an immense tower built on a steel bed lumbered by. Two carts on a dray rocked and bobbed, each carrying a small crop of grain planted in straight rows. They wandered deeper into the caravan, hopping over the steaming dung piles left by the dulam beasts.

It appeared that the caravan never stopped moving. Beings tossed their privy pots from high windows.
Even a huge wagon, three of its steel-shod wheels turning and squeaking, was being repaired on the move—a wheeled jack held the corner up as a human hammered a new wheel onto its axle.

Soon they were in in the middle of what was a small village. Many small carts, each pulled by a male and a female human, traveled together, virtually touching edges as they rocked. On each cart was a small wattle hut, each identical to the one next to it. There were even guards. At four corners sentries stood, naked except for turntimber-bark armor. Each grasped the shellacked stalk of a vorpal weed.

Past the moving village, a strange beast with long white fur and twirled horns plodded with a group of humans and mermen surrounding it. There were two immense copper tanks strapped to its back. Two of the men wore various sized metal disks that clinked against each other as they walked. Each of the men had a cup on a lanyard around his neck.

“Water,” one cried. “We have water.”

Nissa looked down at her feet. Her boots were not worth much anymore, and she would need them. Still, if she did not have water soon … She turned to Anowon, who drew back the white hood of the cloak he’d taken from the merfolk. He held up his hand. Pinched between his fingers was a glowing tooth.

“Is it fresh?” Sorin croaked, through cracked lips.

Anowon smiled. “The teeth in that merfolk’s mouth were not fit for magic. This is one of the original teeth.”

“Whose are they?” Sorin said. “I’ve been curious all this time.”

Anowon did not look at Sorin. “You will never know, Mortifier.”

Sorin had been grinning, but when Anowon called him
Mortifier
, his smile disappeared.

In exchange for the tooth, the water vendors let them drink all the water they could from their cups. Then they turned a spigot on one of the tanks and shot a glistening stream of cool water into three new skins and gave them those. The water was piney tasting, flavored with Jaddi sap. It tasted like the finest thing Nissa had ever had in her life. Even better than a roasted thrak toad.

Nissa looked ahead, but could not see the end of the caravan. Buildings lumbered, and whips snapped. The smell was that of sweat and dung. The spicy dust blowing in between the wagons off the barren land mingled with the smoke from fires. Overhead a small creature, perhaps a young kor, was flying, being towed on a rope, with a pair of hide-and-wood wings strapped to its back. In the hard desert wind the winged creature dipped and soared, and the sun flashed off the reflective objects it wore.

Nissa took another deep drink and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

“What did you mean by
Mortifier?”
Nissa said to Anowon. Anowon was watching Sorin walk some paces ahead.

“He
knows what I mean,” replied the vampire. “He knows. Did you see the expression on his face?”

“Knows what?”

“That I know he speaks the ancient dialect of the vampires.”

“Oh,” Nissa said.

“Yes,” Anowon said. “His rot talk. It sounded strange at first, and then I consulted the cylinders. He rot talks in a language that appeared suddenly during the reign of the third Eldrazi titan. It did not evolve as most languages do. It had no precedent in other, earlier languages. It simply
appeared
in texts at exactly one time.”

“So, where did it come from?” Nissa said.

Anowon smiled and shrugged. “Ask the Eldrazi,” he said.

Nissa took another gulp of her excellent water. With each drink she felt more like herself.
“You
ask the Eldrazi,” she said, smiling.

“I leave that to you, Nissa the elf,” the vampire replied.

“I will tell them if you will answer this one question, Anowon of Ghet?”

Anowon held up his water skin and squeezed it, sending a concentrated stream of water into his open mouth.

“Why do the Eldrazi Titans have to be kept in the Eye of Ugin?” Nissa asked. “Perhaps they would flee if released, and this place would stop being so dangerous. Perhaps they would flee to another plane.”

Nissa closed her mouth. She’s said too much. She’d
assumed
that because of his knowledge he’d figured that bit of fact out, but apparently not.

But Anowon just continued walking, seeming to consider her words.

“I just meant Sejiri, in the north,” Nissa said. “They could go there and leave the rest of Zendikar.”

But Anowon was looking at the dry ground as he walked, keeping up with the rest of the caravan. His fingers moved down to one of the metal cylinders hanging from his belt.

“I just meant Sejiri,” Nissa repeated. “You know. The region in the north?”

Still Anowon did not speak, but walked with his eyes on the ground and his fingers reading the ancient scripts copied on the cylinders that hung from his belt.

“I am aware that there are other planes of existence,” he said, turning to her as he walked. “That certain
creatures can travel between here and there.”

Nissa felt the blood rush to her face. But Anowon was not done talking, and he began again before she could speak.

“The Eldrazi are clearly these types of beings. All the texts claim they came from nowhere. That they simply snapped into existence. Obviously they came from another plane.”

“Obviously,” Nissa repeated.

Over the next days, Anowon walked with the hood of his white robe pulled down low and his fingers moving slowly over a different cylinder. The caravan moved like a lumbering city over the dry pan. Nissa could see the fringe of a mountain range rising out of the haze at the horizon. As they had no coin, and Anowon simply did not answer questions leveled at him, they had no choice but to sleep where they could. One night Nissa slept in the window of a building pulled by dulam beasts. The next night she curled up in the fig grove as it shook and swayed in the starlight. On the fourth day they saw a dulam beast die. The large wheeled tent it had been pulling slowed a bit until another younger beast was led from the trailing herd trail and harnessed in. The other wagons simply turned to avoid the beast’s carcass as a human bent and butchered it, slopping the meat and vital organs into a wheeled barrel.

One night Nissa was able to steal some grilled dulam sausage from a seller—the next day she found two loaves of bread rolling in the dust near the communal oven. The goblin took whatever she offered it, breaking the food in half and feeding part to Smara, who stared into the goblin’s eyes as he fed her.

“What does she see in your eyes?” Nissa finally asked.

“The oracle sees the ghost she channels in my face,” Mudheel said. “And she is content.”

“Teeth of the dragon!” Smara blurted out.

Mudheel stroked the kor’s hand. “Yes, we are going there. We are going.”

But the caravan stopped later that day. Every cart, wagon, and dray slowed and then stopped. Nissa and Sorin walked past the wagons until they found the front of the caravan. The front wagon was stopped just behind an area of what looked like plants made of rock. The rock garden had maybe sixty plants, and some trees and each one was black and stone.

A human stood near them, leaning on a staff as he looked at the fossilized plants. Nissa watched is disbelief as a tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a trail in the grit and dust. “Beautiful is it not?” the man said. “Truly luck is with us. We will make the mountains by the day after the day after next, surely.”

Nissa turned back to the formation, for that was surely what it was. “What is it?” she said.

“An igneous Glen, of course,” the man said. When he saw she did not know the name he continued. “Caused when a lava Roil burns the site of a Roil bloom. This reminds me that plants grow here on this rock. The kor say they are sacred. It is truly a great omen. We need such omens now that the tentacled menace has sacked Ora Ondar.”

“They have?” Nissa said. “Does it still stand?”

The man shrugged.

More humans and some mermen had gathered at the edge of the stone glen. Nissa even recognized a couple of elves with glowing eyes, and the white kolya fruit emblazoned on their flowing robes. The elves did not appear to be searching for anyone—their eyes
stayed on the bloom.
Refugees, possibly
, Nissa thought. Still, she would have to keep an eye out.

Each of the onlookers, Nissa noticed, acted as if they were in the presence of a miracle. One merfolk with his ankle fins unbound and his beard a scraggly mess fell to his knees and planted his face in the dust.

Nissa turned back to the strange forest—a monument to something that had once been alive and teeming, but was dead, cold, and no more than a sad memory. It was certainly nothing compared with the beauty of a true green growing place. The Roil had created it. And if she was to trust both Sorin’s and Anowon’s hints, Roils had more to do with a perversion of Zendikar’s nature and more to do with Zendikar’s desperate attempt to contain the Eldrazi in their restless slumber.

How could humans and merfolk find the garden beautiful? she asked herself.
Beautiful?
It was an abomination.