The Moons of Mirrodin

CHAPTER 12

“We believe you should leave now,” said Raksha after the service. His shoulders were slumped, and his head hung low. He looked far less imposing than when Glissa had first met him at the gates … but that was a lifetime ago.

In a ritual of fire held in the courtyard, they had offered the body of Rishan and the warriors who died that morning to the yellow moon. The leonin howled while the bodies turned to ash, but the sound was not jubilant like the noon ritual the day before. These were wails of sorrow. Glissa, Slobad, and the golem stood in the burnt-out passage, well away from the throng of leonin crowded around the statue of Dakan and the ever-burning flame.

“I think you are right,” said Glissa.

The Kha’s eyes looked vacant, as if he were lost and looking for his way home. She was surprised he hadn’t tossed them out the gate already.

“I am sorry for your loss.” There was more she wanted to say, but she knew none of it would matter.

“Farewell, Glissa,” Raksha said. “You will always be welcome here.”

Glissa hesitated a moment, then hugged the large leonin. Raksha stood impassive. Glissa’s tears welled up again.

“I shall not return,” she said. “Not until the danger that follows me is gone. Not until I have found the one responsible for Rishan’s death and made him pay.”

Ushanti emerged from behind the Kha. “You are the one responsible, elf!” screamed the seer. She glared at Glissa with a rage the elf had never before seen in anyone’s eyes. “You killed my daughter just as you will kill us all!”

She slapped Glissa across the face. Blood streamed from a long gash on the elf’s cheek, mixing with tears. Ushanti raised her arm again, and Glissa saw blood dripping from the old seer’s claws.

Ushanti’s claws stopped an inch from Glissa’s gut. Raksha held the seer’s wrist and pushed her gently away from Glissa into the arms of a warrior.

“No,” he said. “No more bloodshed.”

Ushanti struggled against the grip of the warrior. “You!” she screamed. “You would welcome this elf back into your house? Death follows her like a plague. You’ll see. You will all see!”

“We are the Kha here, Ushanti,” growled Raksha. “You would do well to remember that.” He motioned to the warrior holding Ushanti, and the leonin pulled the old seer back into her quarters.

“Don’t blame her,” said Glissa. She wiped the blood and tears from her cheek. “She has every right to hate me.”

She looked at Slobad and the golem. “We should … we should leave. I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes and crossed the courtyard. Slobad followed with the golem. Neither spoke until they were out of sight of Taj Nar.

* * * * *

“Where do we go from here, huh?” asked Slobad.

“I don’t know,” replied Glissa glumly. She had been walking aimlessly since they left. She had no idea if she was headed toward the Mephidross, Slobad’s old lair, or somewhere else entirely. “The serum is our only link to the robed figure, but Ushanti won’t help us with that now. I don’t blame her, but we need to know where the serum came from.”

“Krark cult have secret place, huh?” said Slobad. “We stay with them while I fix the golem. Fix the golem and he tell us what ‘Memnarch’ means. Maybe Memnarch make serum, huh? We find Memnarch, he tell us who robed figure is, huh? Maybe Memnarch is robed figure.”

“Maybe Memnarch is the golem’s name or a pet he used to play with,” said Glissa sourly.

They walked on in silence. She stopped at the edge of a field of razor grass and glanced back at the goblin. He was perched on the golem’s shoulder, staring at the ground. “Do you think you can get him to talk?” she asked, gesturing toward the golem.

“Just needs good cleaning,” said Slobad, dully.

Glissa thought for a moment. “So, what do you need? Just some time to clean him?”

Slobad nodded. “ ’Dross muck up everything inside, huh? I think the golem actually fixing himself when we rest. Parts I clean fix themselves.” He started to brighten. “Amazing, huh? Slobad never see machine like it. Fixes itself. Just can’t clean self. Dumb, huh? But smart, too.”

“You need time to clean,” said Glissa.

Slobad nodded.

“Somewhere safe from the nim, the levelers, and globe-headed, silver birds.”

Slobad nodded again.

“And I need answers from someone who knows as much about this world as Ushanti.”

Slobad started to nod, then cocked his head and looked at Glissa. “You know place, huh?”

Glissa nodded. “Tel-Jilad, the Tree of Tales. It’s impregnable. No leveler has ever entered-and many have tried. There are only two entrances. One is heavily guarded, and the other is a secret known only by the trolls-and me. Besides, it’s time Chunth told me everything he knows about this destiny he’s thrust on me.”

Glissa almost smiled as she climbed into the golem’s broad hands. “Slobad,” she said, “I’m going home.”

* * * * *

It took them almost three rotations to get to the edge of the Tangle. Shortly after Slobad turned the golem around to head toward the Tangle, Glissa spotted silver specks circling in the sky ahead of them.

“We have trouble.” She pointed at the flyers.

“They looking for us, huh?” said Slobad. “Bad if they find us. Very bad, huh?”

“We need to hide,” said the elf. “I don’t know if they’re looking for us or not, but we can’t fight or outrun them here. It’s too flat and open.”

Slobad guided the golem back over a small hill. Glissa and the goblin slid down to the ground and lay flat against the bare metal hill. The golem dropped to the ground next to them. Glissa peeked over the hill and watched the silver flyers. They did seem to be searching for something, snaking their way back and forth across the sky.

Their flight was bringing the flock toward the travelers. Glissa turned to Slobad. “They’re coming closer!”

Slobad pointed down the hill. “Follow Slobad, huh?” he said. “We hide in old leonin lair.” The goblin began to crawl, followed by the golem.

Glissa glanced back at the flyers again, then scrambled down the hill. They backtracked across the rolling terrain, keeping low to the ground and skirting hills until they came to a mound Glissa recognized as a leonin den. It looked like all the others she had seen-a rounded mound of metal topped by a patch of razor grass that protected an opening.

“How do you know it’s abandoned?” she asked. “It looks like all the other lairs we’ve seen, and we never see any leonin when we pass anyway.”

“Razor grass overgrown on top, huh?” said Slobad. “Crazy elf not see that?”

Glissa looked at the patch of sharp blades on the top of the mound. It looked like all the others to her. She shrugged and followed Slobad up the slope. At the top, she glanced around to find the silver birds. They were still making their way methodically across the sky. Glissa pulled out her sword and cut a path through the razor grass.

“No straight lines, huh?” said Slobad. “Leonin cut narrow paths through grass. Hard for enemies to attack. Look natural.”

Glissa nodded. A wide swath through the grass would surely draw the attention of their pursuers. She began to cut a narrow, winding path through the grass toward the gash in the top of the hill that was the lair’s entrance. It was slow work, and she did not have time to be careful. She cut her legs several times when razor blades fell in her path as she moved forward. The party finally reached the entrance and climbed down into the lair.

It did not gleam like Taj Nar had, but Glissa could see remnants of past splendor. The floor bore an inlaid pattern of the leonin sun, and a large table in the corner appeared to be made of gold. Most of the other furnishings had been removed, but there was a large fire pit beneath the opening with an odd, six-legged spit standing over it. The spit didn’t look strong enough to hold a pot.

“Mirror-holder, huh?” said Slobad, pointing to the spit. “Leonin put mirrors over pit when sun up in sky. Lights up lair. Mirrors come off after sundown, huh? Light fire to keep dark away at night. They like dark less than you, huh?”

“Well, we need the dark now,” Glissa grunted. “We’ll stay here today and travel at night. I just hope those flying horrors can’t see in the dark any more than I can.”

Slobad nodded.

* * * * *

For several rotations they made their way across the Glimmervoid under the stars, resting in abandoned lairs while the moons were up. Each morning and evening Glissa looked for the globe-headed birds. They circled the sky, snaking their way across the Glimmervoid, searching. As the travelers grew closer to the Tangle, however, they left the four moons and the birds behind. Glissa, Slobad, and the golem entered the Tangle well after the last moon set on the fourth rotation. They had walked most of the afternoon. Glissa was glad for the night. They would need the cover of darkness to smuggle the golem through the Tangle.

“Can he climb?” she asked.

“You know as much about golem as me, huh?” said Slobad. “He do many things. Maybe he can climb, too.”

Glissa glared at the goblin and pointed to the Tangle tree beside them.

“Okay, okay. I ask him. Take it easy, huh?” From his perch on the metal man’s shoulders, Slobad pointed to the tree and said, “Golem, climb.”

The golem reached forward and grabbed the metal trunk. Spikes sprang out from his fingertips and feet, and he moved up the tree. He was almost as fast as the levelers, even with Slobad clinging to his back. The goblin clung tightly as the giant steadily mounted the tree. He eventually slung his pack over the golem’s head and slipped his torso under the strap. Glissa used the holes left behind by the golem’s passing to climb up behind the odd-looking duo.

Once in the trees, the elf led Slobad and the golem through the heights of the Tangle. She used unfamiliar routes, since she was unsure whether the narrower spires could handle the golem’s weight. As well, she wanted to avoid terraces where elves tended to congregate after the evening meal. The result was that a trip that would normally have taken her an hour occupied most of the night. As the sky began to brighten she saw a patrol of Tel-Jilad Chosen pass beneath them. She ducked into the nearest opening and froze. She had come home.

The debris had been cleared, including the remains of the leveler she had destroyed, but Glissa could still see dark stains on the floor. She breathed hard and fell back against the wall behind her.

“You okay, huh?” asked Slobad.

The golem crawled through the entrance, and Slobad slipped off his back. “Out of breath? Want to ride golem? Slobad think he carry both of us, huh?”

“Check to see if the patrol has gone by yet,” she said. “I’ll be okay.” Glissa closed her eyes and tried to keep the demons from her head. She was still panting when Slobad came back.

“All clear, huh?” he said. “See nobody in tree or below. You okay? We go now, huh?”

Glissa took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She nodded and moved toward the door, keeping her eyes shut until she felt the cool air of the Tangle on her face. They didn’t see anyone else the rest of the way to the Tree of Tales. By they time they reached the terrace above the secret entrance, the moons were cresting above the horizon.

“Down here,” said the elf. “We’re almost there. Any sign of our robed friend or his flying spies?”

“Slobad not see anything but blasted light fruit since we come here. Why live in such dark wood, then light it with crazy fruit, huh? No wonder elves can’t see in dark.”

Glissa chuckled. “I know you’re tired, Slobad,” she said. “I promise you a hard bed in a nice dark room is just beyond this terrace.”

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.