The Fifth Dawn (38 page)

She felt herself enter the shape, or maybe it absorbed her. Then, in another blinding white flash, Glissa was standing next
to the small box, panting and out of breath. She looked down at her hands and saw the familiar green skin covered in metallic plates. She shook her head and felt cords of tangled cable hair whip at her ears. Glissa heard voices, and cautiously set off in their direction through the weird silver Tangle, the small box forgotten.

As abruptly as it had begun, the flare ended, and she blinked. She was still bound into the rack within the Panopticon.

Soul traps
, the voice in her head said.

That’s how he brought us here
, Glissa thought. Memnarch was still scuttling about the Panopticon.

Originally. But now he’s gonna use them.

But why kill so many people? If he needed their souls?

There was no response.

Slobad?

They not dead.

What? There are
thousands
of dead.

Nope
, the voice rang in her skull.
Bodies fallen. Don’t work. But the souls can’t go anywhere. It’s—

Ghastly. What will happen when he drains the traps?

That, not sure. Wasn’t important to construction. Maybe everyone goes home. Maybe all die.

Can’t you do anything?

Can’t yet. Working on—

The voice ceased, and the elf girl felt a twinge of discomfort as the needle retracted from her neck. Memnarch had finally stopped fussing with his controls and crystal panels and now clacked his way over to Glissa.

“It thinks Memnarch a fool,” the Guardian said. “Thinks I cannot hear. I shall have the spark, the power, and a new, pure world to shape. Before, I was as a child, playing with his father’s sword but grasping the wrong end through sheer ignorance, Karn.
I allowed the flesh on this world out of hubris, thinking I could change it. Now we shall start over, you and I, as equals.”

The air was humming like a swarm of wasps. At first, Glissa thought it was the energy continuing to build, but it sounded more like actual wasps, big ones.

Or beetles.

A monstrous, rusty iron blur dropped through the open roof of the diamond structure and slammed into the side of the Guardian’s head. The blow didn’t topple Memnarch—he was far too stable—but surprised him enough to make him momentarily forget the elf girl. Before he could locate the first attacker, another large black shape smashed into his back, shattering one of the bulbous serum tanks he wore and sending glass and silver-blue fluid spraying about the chamber. Memnarch screamed in fury.

With that, the nim attacked en masse. They poured from the black lacuna in a great swarm, descending on the Guardian again and again, refusing to give him a chance to recover.

“Psst!”

Glissa looked to her left. Raksha was crouched in a shadowed alcove, holding Geth’s head by the ears so the necromancer’s eyes could stay on the nim. Glissa’s eyes widened and a silly grin spread across her face.

“Told you I was the best damned necromancer on this plane,” Geth hissed with glee. “Body or no body. Just took me a while to get them to listen.”

“Enough!”
Memnarch screamed from the center of a dizzying black whirlwind. Memnarch’s shout had magic behind it, and a translucent blue sphere formed around his body. Several nim bounced off the force field and were sent flying off in every direction. The blue sphere expanded outward, washing over Glissa, Slobad, and the hidden Raksha without any effect. Geth’s head, however, was torn from the leonin’s grasp by the
expanding anti-necrotic shockwave and flew high in a lazy arc. Glissa lost sight of Geth almost immediately, unable to turn her head.

The effect of the wave on the flying nim was even more devastating. Geth’s head had bounced off the waved like a ball, but every nim that collided with the sphere disintegrated into a gaseous green cloud. By the time the sphere had reached the interior to dissipate harmlessly against the silver surface, the nim were gone.

Simultaneously, the leather straps holding her in place went slack and dropped to the floor. Glissa felt a sudden surge of power as the restraining magic released her, and she stepped out of the rack on unsteady legs, not really sure what had just happened.

“No!” Memnarch bellowed and crab-ran to Glissa once more.

“NOW YOU PLAY FAIR, HUH?”

The voice emanated from millions and millions of tiny, insignificant builder constructs.

Memnarch skidded to a stop just in front of Glissa, staring at the silver sky above him. With a quick glance at Raksha, who nodded, Glissa launched herself at the Miracore as the leonin dove into one of the Guardian’s spindly legs.

The Guardian howled with rage as all around them his plan did its best to come to fruition without him. The air was thick with the odor of ozone and a vibration that Glissa could feel in her bones more that she could hear. The elf girl grabbed hold of the Miracore and yanked down with all her might, but the chain was too strong, and didn’t give. Glissa felt warm blood flowing into her hands as the edges of the talisman sliced into her skin, but she refused to release the Miracore.

At the same time, Raksha collided with Memnarch’s leg,
which buckled and folded under his body. The combination of suddenly losing one corner of his support and the violent downward pull Glissa exerted on the Miracore was too much to take. Memnarch toppled over and fell sideways onto the lift disk that had carried the elf girl into the chamber in the first place. The round metal plate dropped under the Guardian’s weight. As power continued to pour into the web with nowhere to go, Memnarch roared from below as the disk reached the floor of the foyer level. Glissa heard a series of clacks and clangs as he opened the doorway heading out.

The elf let out a battle cry and jumped feet first into the hole, Raksha landing with a clang and a little more grace beside her. They tumbled out onto the occultation disk and scrambled after the Guardian onto the surface into the humming air above the mana core.

Magic surged and made her bones hum. Glissa could barely hear herself think. But she didn’t need to think to get her hands on the Miracore. Glissa and Raksha charged toward Memnarch, side by side. To the millions of watching gemstone eyes that encircled the Ascension Web, they looked like suicidal insects attacking a hungry vorrac.

Memnarch continued to scream and rage, his fury no longer expressable in words. The last-minute breakdown in his plan seemed to have driven the Guardian completely mad. Glissa wasn’t listening anyway. She was stretching her mind out to the Tangle.

“Raksha, stay back,” she said as they barreled toward the Guardian.

“Not a chance,” he replied.

“Sorry, someone’s got to get back to the surface and tell them what’s happened,” Glissa said. “You’re the only one who can do it now.” Before the leonin realized what was happening,
Glissa spun and landed a solid punch on the leonin’s muzzle. He dropped in mid run and rolled to a stop, unconscious. Glissa, still running, whirled and continued headlong into Memnarch, who had his fists in the air, imploring the wild energy all around the interior to enter his body.

“You want the spark?” Glissa yelled.
“Then you can have it!”

The elf girl vaulted into the air from a dead run, her skin tingling with suppressed spark energy and Tangle magic, and finally released the destructive power into Memnarch’s face. His new metal body writhed under the emerald fire, and the Guardian clawed the air, screeching in agony. Still channeling the destructive energy, Glissa slammed into the Guardian’s chest and dug her claws into his silver skin, which melted under her touch.

Menarch brought up an insectoid leg and swiped at Glissa, who had to release her grip to dodge the blow. She lost her her concentration, and swore as she felt the destructive energy fizzle out. Somehow Memnarch still stood.

The two combatants circled each other warily. Memnarch moved slowly and smoldered, his shiny new form blackened and scorched, but the blast of destruction had only weakened him. The remaining serum tank on his back started to glow and pulse, and he turned to close on Glissa. The elf girl tried to get around him, but she was too near to the edge of the occultation disk.

Memnarch raised his humanoid hands, which began to glow as the Guardian summoned his own destructive spell. This was Glissa’s chance. When the Guardian shouted his incantation, she ducked under his raised arms, seized the Miracore in slippery, bloody hands, and jerked it free, breaking the chain from which it hung. She dove under Memnarch’s torso and through his arachnoid legs, emerging on the other side, and onto her feet
in one smooth gymnastic motion. Dizzy, she turned back to face her foe.

Memnarch lumbered around to face her, their positions suddenly reversed. Using every ounce of will she had left, Glissa drew in the power of the Tangle above and felt the spark energy reignite. She raised the Miracore in both hands and slammed it flat against Memnarch’s chest, pouring green destruction through the ancient artifact and into the Guardian, who now had no flesh to resist her power.

Memnarch screamed anew. The Guardian, his spell forgotten, stumbled back … back. Glissa pressed forward, pain beginning to blossom in her forearms as the Miracore melted into the Guardian’s silver skin. The artifact fused with Memnarch’s metal body in the blazing heat.

Glissa still had the Miracore firmly in her grasp when Memnarch’s two rear legs slipped from the edge of the disk. Memnarch didn’t stop screaming until the entangled enemies passed through one of the wide openings in the mesh sphere and plunged headlong into the mana core.

Though his mouth hadn’t spoken a word in years, Slobad screamed when Glissa and her nemesis fell into the mana core. He saw Glissa die from a thousand different angles and points of view, each one causing him to scream anew.

The only friend he’d ever had….

But Slobad didn’t have time to scream any more. The intricately planned Ascension Web was still operating as designed, despite the deaths of the two beings that were supposed to be on the receiving end. Slobad watched from his bug constructs’ eyes as the web sent more and more magical energy into the mana
core, which started to glow brighter and brighter until even his remote crystal eyes couldn’t stand the glare.

As the mana core reached its limit—something no being on Mirrodin had the power to change, even Memnarch—the energy boomeranged back into the web and immediately exceeded the carrying capacity of even a plane-sized artifact. Purified, amplified, and devastating, the wash of power was like nothing Slobad had ever felt before, even in the last five years of being connected to the machine.

The magic surged into the goblin’s withered, limbless body through his connection to the rack. Slobad suspected he screamed again, but if he did he couldn’t hear it. Millions of tiny pinpricks of pain stabbed his mind from the inside as the energy of all the soul traps on Mirrodin forced its way in.

Raksha Golden Cub, back broken, legs useless, pulled himself through the small narrow door at the base of the diamond structre in his best attempt to escape the blistering heat of the core. He flopped onto his back in the small room, neither knowing nor caring that his bare feet still protruded from the entrance.

The energy struck the occultation disk like a tidal wave, but the leonin, protected by darksteel, easily survived the initial blast.

The victory was short lived. Rolling on to collide with the reflective silver surface of the interior, the wave shattered a small, square, glowing object, one of thousands within the needle spires that lined the lacunae above.

Raksha Golden Cub was dead before he hit the floor.