The Fifth Dawn

CHAPTER 19

Lyese rose from her throne-her sister was sitting on a throne-and walked with unusual dignity and grace down the hewn steps. The elf girl didn’t say a word, but when she reached Glissa, she stopped and stared long and hard into her older sister’s eyes. Glissa returned the stare, but after a moment she arched an eyebrow and asked, “Looking for something?”

Lyese straightened and called up to the platform, “It is Glissa.” She returned to the older girl and swept her into a hug. Glissa held her sister tightly, tears suddenly welling in her eyes. “Lyese,” she said, “I’m so sorry. Sorry I’ve been gone. I was trapped.”

“I know,” Lyese said, smiling through tears. “We had given up all hope, but then Bruenna found a way to get through-Glissa, you’re alive!”

“So why are you-”

“I’m the Khanha!”

“What’s a Khaha?”

“Khanha. I’m married to-”

“You’re married?”

“Yes, I’m the-”

“Khanha. You said that. You mean you’re married to-”

“The Kha,” Yshkar rumbled, striding purposefully down the steps. “We welcome you to our … temporary home. You have come at an opportune time, Glissa of the Tangle.”

“Hold on a minute,” Glissa said, poking a finger into Yshkar’s chest, stopping the surprised leonin in his tracks. “Lyese, you married Raksha?”

“Er, no,” Lyese said, and her eyes fell to the floor. “Raksha is-Glissa, Raksha is gone. Yshkar and I …” Her sister shrugged.

Glissa was floored. Lyese had displayed a crush on Raksha Golden Cub, but Yshkar? It was unexpected, to say the least. “Raksha’s dead? Bruenna, why didn’t you tell me?”

“We asked her to bring you here without delay,” Yshkar said. “Once you’d been detected, we could do nothing else.”

“Explaining about Raksha would have just slowed us down,” Bruenna explained sadly. “It is not a tale I enjoy relating. Truthfully, he may not be dead, but he is no longer with us.”

“Yes, but all say Glissa should know everything, huh?” Dwugget growled, hopping down from his own throne to join the impromptu discussion.

“Thanks, Dwugget,” Glissa said the wizened little goblin. “I think. Hey, why did your men attack me last-uh, decade?”

“You full of questions, huh? Just like the rest of us,” the old cleric said, nodding sagely. “But there is much to tell, from many angles, and much arguing, that always fun. And we have some time, huh? All talk over dinner. Then, action.” He winked. “All friends now, huh?”

“If you say so,” Glissa sighed. She didn’t know what to make of Dwugget’s presence, but he had helped her long ago, when her life had first gone crazy. And Slobad had trusted him. Still, the old goblin seemed filled with tension under his jolly demeanor, shifting on his feet a little too much. She would have to keep an eye on him.

Her belly rumbled. The goblin’s mention of food reminded she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, but knew it was at least five year ago. “All friends now.” Glissa nodded. “So let’s eat.”

The meal was set out like a feast, though compared even to the meals that Glissa’s mother had prepared for special occasions, the pickings were sparse. The leonin royal family-of which Glissa guessed she was now a part-had obviously fallen on hard times, to say the least. Still, no food had tasted so good in quite a while.

“All right,” Glissa began without ceremony, “I’ll tell you what I know, or what I’ve been able to figure out. You fill in the rest, and we’ll go from there.” She arched an eyebrow when she saw her sister, Dwugget, Yshkar, and Bruenna exchange furtive looks. “We’re all going to level with each other,” she added.

Before she could continue, a goblin guard scuttled into the room and whispered something in Dwugget’s ear. The goblin rose politely with the gingerness of the aged. “Excuse, my friends,” the old goblin said. “A theological dispute has broken out.” Without another word, the goblin followed the goblin out of the dining room.

“Theological dispute?” Glissa asked.

With a wave, Yshkar dismissed the remaining goblin guards, who scuttled after Dwugget. The Kha nodded to Bruenna, who continued.

“When the green sun rose into the sky five years ago, the goblin tribes very nearly degenerated into complete anarchy,” Bruenna explained. “The event confirmed many prophecies that the shamanic leaders had long held to be heresies, and hundreds of goblins had been exiled or executed for espousing them.”

“The Cult of Krark,” Glissa said. “Heretics.”

“But the only surviving group of heretics out there, thanks to you,” Lyese said. “The goblins didn’t want to destroy their own society. Nor could they follow the old leadership. Dwugget saw an opportunity, and when he marched right into the shamans’ tunnels and started preaching to the tribes about Krark and his journey, about Mother’s Heart-well, the goblins lapped it up.” Her sister shrugged. “They made him the new shaman. Renamed the mountain Krark. But it wasn’t easy for Dwugget to maintain order at first. He’d be the first to tell you he worked with some shady characters to keep the goblins in line back then. Once Raksha and I managed to get in to see him, Dwugget was more than happy to talk about an alliance. For one thing, it let him get rid of thugs like Alderok Vektro.”

“Vektro is dead?” Glissa asked.

“Once the alliance was sealed,” Lyese said, any of the Vulshok mercenaries that Dwugget knew had been abusive or murderous to goblins ended up breaking ore in the mines. And now, Dwugget personally intercedes whenever theological arguments break out.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever seen a goblin theological dispute?” Lyese asked.

“Right,” Glissa said. From what Slobad had told her, such disputes were usually considered finished when one side was roasting in the Great Furnace.

Glissa wanted to ask again how her sister had ended up the wife of a leonin monarch, but she decided to wait until the two could talk privately. She catalogued everything else she knew for them, and finally, showed them Geth’s head after servants cleared the table of food.

Yshkar’s reaction was violent and immediate. “Abomination!” the leonion cried and drew a longknife.

“No, wait!” Glissa shouted. She held her arms protectively over Geth’s head. “He’s on our side. I know it stinks, but …”

“My Kha,” Lysese purred, placing a hand on her husband’s sword arm, “Please.”

The leonin growled, but relented at the elf’s touch. Keeping one eye on Glissa’s grisly companion, he replaced the blade and returned to his seat but still stared daggers at Geth’s head.

It wasn’t until then that Glissa noticed she’d readily protected Geth. She chalked it up to the fact that she was still convinced the necromancer’s head would prove useful somehow. And it wasn’t as if he took up much space, or ate anything. He hadn’t even talked for days. In fact …

Glissa flipped open the lid to make sure the smelly thing hadn’t finally expired. “You all right?” she asked.

“Don’t start that,” Geth’s head replied. Glissa shut the flap and set the bag next to her chair. Good thing they had finished eating. Opening Geth’s bag was always an olfactory adventure.

“Now what no one’s told me, but I’m starting to guess,” Glissa told them all, “is that you’ve learned something new. You thought I was dead, then you didn’t.” She locked eyes with Bruenna. “Tell me you’ve learned something. Tell me anything.”

“What would you like to know first?” Bruenna asked.

“What happened to Raksha?” Glissa said.

The dining room fell silent except for the clink of silverware on silver plates. Finally, Yshkar sighed. “Very well. We had hoped we could cover this later, but you have the right to know.”

“And Glissa, it’s important you know it’s not your fault,” Lyese added.

“How could it be my fault?” Glissa asked. “I’ve been frozen or something.”

“Our cousin, the noblest, most honorable Kha since the days Great Dakan walked the plains, disappeared three years ago,” Yshkar said.

“Impossible,” Glissa said.

“It’s true,” Bruenna said.

“He saw the end coming, I think,” Lyese said, “and decided he would rather all of us die than lose the den home. Glissa, Raksha destroyed Taj Nar. If I hadn’t caught him in the act, we all would have perished.”

“Raksha destroyed Taj Nar? That’s insane!” Glissa said, slamming her goblet to the table. “How? Why?”

“I told you why,” Lyese said sharply. “I found him planting some kind of explosive-”

“It was called a mana bomb,” Bruenna broke in. “Apparently Raksha had gotten one from the vedalken. The vedalken created them, but never had reason to use them. Just one can wipe out several acres. Fortunately, Taj Nar itself protected most of us from the brunt of the blast, though at a terrible cost.”

“Afterward, Raksha blamed me,” Lyese said. “If it weren’t for Yshkar, he might have killed me.”

“Our cousin was raving, a madman,” Yshkar said. “But we could not execute him. Not even after what he had done. No Kha, no matter how insane, can be allowed to face death anywhere but on his feet. Yet we could not allow him back onto the field to face an honorable end, either.”

“For one thing, there was no battlefield,” Lyese added. “It was all we could do to get the survivors up here, to Krark-Home.”

“Exile was the only solution,” Yshkar said. “He was given a longknife, a zauk, and cast out in the dead of night.”

“That’s it?” Glissa said. “Do you know where he went?” Something about this was rubbing her the wrong way.

“A few of our scouts reported seeing a leonin on zaukback headed into the Tangle the night he disappeared,” Yshkar replied bitterly. “That alone should tell you his fate. We should have sent someone to record his death, according to ancient law, but no scouts could be spared, of course. He was mad, but in the end he did the honorable thing. The creatures of the Tangle are fierce, our wife tells us.”

“And naturally, you were next in line,” Glissa said.

“The men-all of us, after the fall of the home den-needed a leader. A sane leader. If Raksha is not dead, he might as well be. He is beyond redemption for his act.”

“Sounds to me like there’s plenty of blame to go around,” Glissa said. “All right, I’ll accept that Raksha’s out of the picture. I’ll even accept that you’re the Queen-”

“Khanha,” Lyese interrupted.

“Khanha,” Glissa said. “And I’ll accept Taj Nar’s gone. But how did you find me? What-well, what have I been doing all this time?”

“A year ago,” Bruenna said, steering back to the subject, “I figured out a way to work around the vedalken’s dampening fields. They communicate telepathically, now, entirely. It’s tied to the serum.”

“I figured,” Glissa said. “Yert reeked of serum, too.”

“Really?” Bruenna asked, genuinely surprised. “You must have gotten close.”

“Too close,” Glissa agreed.

“How’s the neck?”

“Sore.”

“Sorry. Anyway, the vedalken are saturated in serum,” Bruenna said. “When Memnarch changed them, made them more ferocious, I think their serum production and intake increased exponentially. You haven’t seen it yet, Glissa, but when the suns go down, there are hardly any stars left in the sky.”

“But the stars-they’re blinkmoths,” Glissa said.

“The vedalken are using them up. Yert too, I guess. Whatever the reason, they can communicate over any distance now at the speed of thought. Their attacks of late have been flawlessly executed. And if Yert reeked of serum five years ago …” Bruenna stood and turned to Yshkar, who Glissa still had trouble thinking of as the Kha. “That confirms it, Yshkar. The nim and Memnarch’s vedalken armies are attacking at the same time in a coordinated effort.”

“Indeed,” The Kha growled.

Bruenna turned back to Glissa. “I brought up vedalken telepathy because I found that an enterprising mage with a grudge and a scrying crystal can sometimes hear their thoughts as plain as day.” The mage grinned. “It’s not pleasant, and Dakan knows I can’t understand more than a quarter of it-but I did find a way through the teleportation shield that seals off Lumengrid when one of the vedalken became trapped outside, in the Tangle, I think. He had to have the shield opened to get back in. They’re not very creative. It was pretty pedestrian magic once I took a good look at it.”

“You broke into Lumengrid?” Glissa asked.

“Teleported in, but to do it I did have to break through some auras,” Bruenna said. “That was how I eventually confirmed you were still alive. The vedalken are fanatical about keeping records and archives, and I popped into their central library. My father used to work there as a servant.” Bruenna her mug of oily leonin pseudonush and refilled it in one fluid movement. “Even now that the vedalken don’t speak, they still write everything down. It’s compulsive. There were records of everything-troop dispatch orders, complete lists of every last artifact beast in Memnarch’s army, maps of secret tunnels into the interior …”

“Tell me you took one of those maps,” Glissa interrupted.

“Yes,” Bruenna said, “And orders about moving a precious cargo from the Dross to the interior.”

“Me?” Glissa asked.

“You,” Bruenna said. “So, to make a short story long, I figured out when they were moving you, and made sure I was in a position to pull you out as soon as there was an opening. It wasn’t easy, but you know the rest.”

“And at last we arrive at the point,” Yshkar replied.

“Patience, my Kha,” Bruenna said. “Glissa, we could spend all night filling you in on everything. It’s been a long five years. But what’s important is what you’ve learned. The Mephidross has grown, and Yert now controls over half the surface. The nim and the vedalken and worse surround us. I’ve figured out how to break into the vedalken’s line of communications. And I found something in the ’grid that might show us a chance to turn our fortunes around.”

Bruenna rose and plucked a roll of wide foil parchment from a pouch on her belt and spread it on the table in front of Glissa, pinning down the corners with goblets and cups. “We know that Yert’s surging strength has something to do with Memnarch, his part in your abduction. I’ve found something. It’s a talisman that might also be a weapon, if you can get your hands on it.”

“A weapon against what?” Glissa asked. The leathery parchment bore a painstakingly colored and labeled coalstone sketch. The sketch depicted a simple round design with angular shapes sliced from the edges, making the shape resemble an asymmetrical sawblade. A pentagon was etched into the center of the object, and at each point on the shape a differently colored gemstone had been mounted.

“I’ve seen that pattern before,” Glissa said. “On Kaldra.”

“This might be even older. According to this, it may actually be as old as the Guardian himself,” Bruenna said. “It gives the possessor power over the mindless and soulless,” Bruenna said. “It’s called the Miracore, and Yert’s got it.”

The mage held her hand about eight inches apart. “It’s about so wide in either direction. And heavy. According to this document, it’s forged from some alloy I’ve never even seen. Even Dwugget said he’d never heard of it, and none of the goblin blacksmiths think it’s even real. But I saw it. I saw it around his neck when I escaped five years ago.”

“So it ‘controls the soulless.’ How? What does that mean, exactly?” Glissa said.

Bruenna launched into a long technical explanation of the talisman, much of which went sailing over Glissa’s head. But the gist of it was that this Miracore could channel the wearer’s willpower and force anything without a sentient mind-such as the simpler animals, zombies like the nim, or constructs-to do his bidding. Its origins were unclear, though the angular, geometric vedalken script confirmed the talisman’s antiquity.

Geth’s head volunteered that he hadn’t need any such talisman to get the nim to do what he wanted.

“That’s actually a good point,” Lyese interrupted. “What the head said.”

“Yert was and still is an amateur,” Geth continued from his bag after prodding the flap open with his temple. “He’d be nothing without that Miracore. Now me, I’m a wizard. The greatest necromancer this plane has ever known.”

“Was a wizard,” Glissa corrected. “Don’t get any ideas, or I’m giving you to Yshkar.” The elf girl returned to Bruenna. “So I get this Miracore away from Yert and the nim lose their controller.”

“And then most of the forces allied against us become easy pickings for our troops,” Yshkar said. “With this talisman in our possession, we could control the nim ourselves and seize the silver beasts from the vedalkens’ grasp.”

“With luck, we won’t have to,” Bruenna said. “There’s something more. It was in a separate record. When I located you, I was also able to track down Memnarch. It was dumb luck. I didn’t expect to find anything, but I had the time, so …”

“What did you find?” Glissa asked.

“Five years,” Bruenna said. “Five years, and no one has seen him. His armies spread over the surface, but Memnarch himself? Nowhere. I found out why.”

“Bruenna, Glissa is tired. She should rest before we get into this,” Lyese said.

“No, my Khanha. I must disagree,” Bruenna said. “I looked into the serum transfer records. I found that most of the supply was being diverted to one place. The Panopticon. I dug around a bit more and found out that the serum was for Memnarch. He’s hibernating. Burning away some kind of ‘taint.’”

“Taint?” Glissa said. “He’s making himself sane?”

“It’s a contaminant,” Bruenna said. “He was being consumed by flesh. He’s using half the serum the vedalken can produce to rid himself of it. Memnarch is converting himself back into pure metal.”

“Why?”

“He believes it will allow him to ascend,” Breunna said. “But he made a mistake.”

“If he’s metal, I might be able to hurt him,” Glissa said. “Maybe-maybe kill him.”

“Exactly,” Bruenna said. “But there is a catch.”

“Of course there is,” Glissa said.

“I retrieved you from the interior early,” Bruenna said. “There are five days until Memnarch will emerge.”

“Perfect,” Glissa said. “I can take him out while he sleeps.”

“Glissa, you cannot touch him until the cleansing process is complete,” Bruenna said. “Like you, he is outside of time in the Panopticon. Inside some kind of machine. But when he emerges, he will be a different being. One you can destroy. On the fifth day, the suns will rise as one, and you have to be in the Panopticon.”

“You will take an honor guard of my finest troops,” Yshkar said.

“No. No commandos, no skyhunters, no honor guard,” Glissa said. “I’ve got four days. When I do this, I do it alone, with no one to slow me down. Give me supplies, and I’ll take a pteron if you’ve got one to spare. If not, Bruenna, I’ll need transportation.”

“Are you sure?” Lyese asked. “We just found you, Glissa.”

“And when this is all over, I’ll find you again,” Glissa said. “First, I have to find Yert, and quickly. Bruenna, maybe teleportation magic-”

A huge rumbling suddenly shook the cave and sent goblets tumbling and chairs toppling. A breathless leonin guard bolted into the dining room and momentarily grabbed the table to keep his balance, something the elf girl had never seen a leonin do before. Glissa struggled to keep her own footing, scooped up Geth’s head and slung it over her shoulder, then drew her sword. A weapon might not stop this sudden a quake, but it made her feel more secure.

The harried leonin soldier headed straight for Yshkar and shouted over the thunderous din. “My Kha! The nim have breached the southeast perimeter! They’ve brought-my Kha, the nim have vampires among them!”

“To arms!” Yshkar bellowed, clutching a small amulet that was apparently enchanted to send his voice rumbling through the tunnels and over the roar of the ongoing quake. “The enemy has entered Krark-Home!”

“Sounds like Yert’s coming to you!” Geth’s head shouted, only audible to Glissa because of his proximity to her ears. She suspected the head was right.

Not one of them noticed the myr creature clinging to the high ceiling, concealed by shadows and its own chameleonic metal skin. As the elf girl continued to speak animatedly to the mage, the myr’s master decided he had learned enough. The small, agile creature scuttled into a ventilation shaft and disappeared.