The Fifth Dawn (36 page)

Glissa could only watch as the elusive Malil-clone disappeared over the edge of the Panopticon disk. The second Malil continued to buzz her as she followed the first and third but hadn’t actually done her any harm, yet. They seemed more interested in annoying Glissa, keeping her distracted. It was working. She had the uncomfortable feeling she was being herded again.

Glissa passed the edge of the disk, noting that though it looked thin relative to the five massive support struts holding up that strange mesh sphere, it was at least four times as thick as she was tall. She rose over the surface, scanning for Raksha, but could spot neither the leonin nor his captor.

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder and saw two
identical silver faces peeking over the edge of the disk. They grinned simultaneously and nodded, silently urging her onward. That was one difference between the copies and the original—these Malils seemed to have no affection for their own voices. If they even had voices.

Glissa flew cautiously toward the rebuilt Panopticon, where a bronze access door hung wide open. Next to the door, a flyer hovered a few inches off the ground, riderless. She walked with a calm she didn’t feel across the wide platform, reaching up to scratch her neck with her right claw. In the process, she tapped the ever-present pack slung over her shoulder.

“Geth,” Glissa whispered. There was no answer, though she could tell by the weight that he was still there. She pulled the strap and shook the bag.

“They’re not following,” Geth replied. “Just hovering there, smiling. I know creepy smiles, and sister, I could take lessons from those two.”

“Go, go, go!” Bruenna shouted. Five years of endless war had prepared the denizens of Krark-Home for the worst, and the mage was impressed with how well the evacuation had gone so far. She charged down the flame-lit tunnel behind a mass of chattering, screaming children and their nurses then glanced back to check on Lyese’s progress. The girl who had never wanted to be the Khanha had slipped into the role with ease and now held open a heavy iron door, urging the mass of terrified leonin and goblins onward. Dwugget had gone back down to the Great Furnace over the objections of Lyese and Bruenna to search for any lingering goblin engineers who had not heard the evacuation alarm, but had not yet returned.

Bruenna waded through the crowd and drew up next to Lyese. She would have rather flown, but wanted to conserve her strength. “You’re doing it,” she said loudly enough for only Lyese to hear.

“I just hope it’s in time,” Lyese said. “Where’s Dwugget? We’ve only got a few minutes!”

“Coming!” a gravelly voice shouted from the tunnel below. Dwugget led a band of some twenty goblin engineers, their dark green skin blackened with soot and oil. The old goblin stumbled over the uneven floor and rolled to a stop at Bruenna’s feet. He had both arms wrapped around a delicately engraved silver ball that leaked hot red light through thousands of tiny slits on its surface.

“Dwugget, is that—?”

“Yup,” the goblin said. “Turned out the engineers were looking for it already, huh? They thought it was just debris blocking some vent, but when I told them about the big bomb …” He shrugged. “Can tell you more later. What do I do with it?”

“Bruenna, you can do it,” Lyese said. “Teleport it out into the middle of the nim.”

“I’m exhausted,” Bruenna said. “And a mana field that’s so compressed—”

The glowing ball began to emit a keening buzz. Dwugget jumped back and collided with the wall of the tunnel. Bruenna and Lyese stepped back, and the mage went over the formulae for such a spell. The mana in the bomb was the problem. It would require more power than one mage could safely channel.

“All right, but I’ll need a boost,” Bruenna said. “From both of you. Give me your hands.”

Dwugget nodded and placed his hand in hers. “Disappearing magic not my specialty, huh? But fire, Dwugget knows. You worry about moving it, Dwugget’ll make sure it not blow up in our faces.”

Lyese took another step back from the bomb. “Bruenna, I’m not a mage. I don’t have Glissa’s … whatever that is.”

“You will do fine, my Khanha,” Bruenna said. “Just give me your hand.”

Bruenna gripped the elf’s hand and closed her eyes. She felt anger, fear, exhilaration, and crushing guilt. That would be Dwugget. The power that she drew through the goblin was fierce and destructive, like the explosive artifact on the ground. Bruenna then sought out Lyese, who was wracked with uncertainty, but also righteous determination. There was also great hatred there. The elf girl’s five years imprisoned in her own mind had not been pleasant ones.

Wild Tangle magic surged into Bruenna, who felt her feet leave the floor as the power lifted her physically from the ground. Equations and formulae raced through her mind as a rapidfire Neurok incantation flew from her lips. The mana bomb’s persistent red glow disappeared within a quicksilver cocoon that faded into existence around the ovoid shape. The bomb screamed, and Bruenna felt a warm trickle of blood run down her right earlobe. As the power reached a fever pitch, she threw her fists forward. A translucent wave washed over the artifact and knocked the three of them off their feet.

The quicksilver encasing the bomb imploded with a sound like shattered glass as the object within was pulled forcibly into an invisible conduit that ended miles away. Bruenna visualized the bomb appearing in the center of the enemy armies and was rewarded with an almost simultaneous explosion in the distance. She smiled.

“Good job,” Bruenna gasped. “Both of you.”

“S’nothin’,” Dwugget croaked.

“I … you … ow,” Lyese added, which Bruenna thought summed up the situation nicely.

“What now, huh?” Dwugget said.

Lyese pulled herself to her feet. “Now we get those people back in here. We might have a chance to win this after all. And they’re going to need a leader.” The elf girl straightened and placed a hand on her sword hilt. “Bruenna, when you think you’re ready, can you spare the Khanha a pair of wings?”

Forced to take Geth’s word she wasn’t being followed, Glissa stepped to the bronze door hanging open on one side of the rebuilt Panopticon. Glissa entered at the bottom point of a diamond shaped section embedded in the platform.

Dark and empty from outside, the room erupted flooded with light from blue and white glowstones as she stepped into a sort of foyer. A large round door that appeared to swing on a central axis was set in the far wall, and a few small, harmless-looking artifact creatures skittered about on the floor, taking no notice of her entry.

“Okay, the twins have gotten tired of watching,” Geth’s raspy voice whispered. “I think it’s time to go in. Is there a door?”

“Wait, I’m not—”

“Ready?” the head retorted. “Too bad. Come on, they’re getting closer!”

Glissa glanced over her shoulder, and saw the pair of Malils approaching on twin hovercraft. She pulled the bronze door shut to buy a little extra time and then pressed against the right side of the circular disk-shaped door, which swiveled on its center and slid ninety degrees inward. She slipped inside and swung the door shut behind her.

She stepped into a much larger round room that was eerily silent and less brightly lit. It appeared to be a storage area, and she
had to step over even more of the small arachnoid constructs that littered the floor. More than once she got the strange feeling that their eyes were following her even as they went about whatever they were doing.

A flat round disk sat floating a few inches off the floor in the center of the room. The room had no doors that she could see. Glissa cautiously stepped onto the flate round plate and walked to the center.

The ceiling hissed and slid apart directly overhead. Glissa held her sword out for balance as the disk lurched and floated upward. She placed a hand on the Miracore to make sure it was still secure as rose through the floor of the room above.

This had to be an important control center of some kind. The cavernous room with a domed ceiling that also appeared to be devoid of people. The walls were lined with silver panels inlaid with crystals and gemstones that pulsed with arhythmic light. In the exact center of the room, a huge silver ovoid structure lined with inscriptions, more pulsing gemstones, silver and copper pipes, and giving off just a little steam sat expectantly. The panels displayed moving images of several different locations on Mirrodin, including what looked like the battlefield of Krark-Home. Glissa choked back a cry at the sight of the devastation.

Glissa had not yet seen Memnarch, but she had a good guess where he might be. That giant, ovoid egg was just big enough to hold him and still afford a little breathing room. The half-empty translucent tank of serum that was fused to the side of the machine looked murky, like stagnant oil. But the tank was a dead giveaway. If the Guardian wasn’t in there now, he spent a lot of time in the structure.

“Glissa?” Geth hissed over her shoulder. “Turn around, but whatever you do, don’t scream.”

Glissa turned around, and screamed.

The elf girl could not believe her eyes. Glissa had walked right past him, focused on the images of Krark-Home and the ovoid. But there he was, plain as day, and alive—barely. She could only tell because the limbless, sallow form hanging in the barbaric-looking rack was drawing shallow, erratic breaths.

Slobad.

The elf girl had no idea how to get her friend out of this, or if he could even survive if she did. Pink crystals, focal points for serum energy, were embedded in his skin and all over the top of his withered, bald head. His skin had gone the same dingy gray as the clouded serum in the tanks before her.

“Slobad,” she whispered and tentatively reached out to touch the goblin’s sunken cheek. His eyes were open, and appeared milky and unfocused. Perhaps even blind. But his ears, and his nose, appeared intact.

Sombody tapped Glissa on the shoulder, and she whirled.

No one was there.

Another tap, this time on the other shoulder.

“Glissa?” Geth’s head said, “There’s something on your shoulder.”

“Gyah!” Glissa yelped, and flailed blindly. She connected with a hard metal object and knocked it away.

One of the numerous little arachnoid constructs clattered to the ground on its back, legs kicking. Glissa picked up the small construct with both hands, careful to keep out of reach of its diminutive legs. It resembled, she realized, a tiny version of Memnarch She turned it over a few times in her hands, but didn’t see anything on it that looked like a weapon, so she set it back down on the floor.

Glissa had expected the tiny construct to flee, but it simply stared at her with a single gemstone eye.

“Shoo,” Glissa said, glancing nervously at the ovoid as it
vented a hiss of blue steam. The construct followed her to the ovoid and tapped her on the boot, then began tapping its tiny feet against the floor in an odd rhythm.

“What?” Glissa asked. “What do you want? Geth, what does it want?”

“I don’t know. Do you hear hovercraft?”

The miniature Memnarch lifted one thin leg and pointed at Slobad. Then it slowly pointed to itself.