Though he couldn’t actually compel Cayce to talk, Vaan’s angry glare effectively conveyed his intentions. He stayed close behind or above her, always within easy reach if she tried to run.
Cayce considered her situation. Lying was an option, but she didn’t see how that would help her any more than the truth. Also, Vaan had said something earlier about Kula’s ability to distinguish fact from falsehood. Cayce wasn’t eager to test Kula’s magic without knowing more… like exactly what an anchorite was and what one could do.
So, under the forest woman’s broad shadow and Captain Hask’s empty stare, Cayce told them exactly what she had seen.
“He’s a machine,” she said. “The dragon we’ve been hunting is a huge machine of some kind. He spits out sparks and reeks of burning oil. He’s a machine.”
No one responded at first. The soldiers all stared blankly at Hask. Hask himself tilted his head, lost in thought.
Kula stood angrily with her fists on her hips. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she said.
“He’s a machine,” Cayce repeated. “Some sort of robot. A desiccated, rusting robot.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “That or a zombie. He shook off two potentially fatal injuries and came back for more as if nothing had happened.”
“This is too much.” Kula glared, fuming, though Cayce didn’t think the anchorite was angry at her. “Is he a robot or a zombie?”
“How should I know?” Cayce held the angry woman’s eyes. “He’s a zombie-robot. No! He’s a robot-zombie!” Cayce shrugged sarcastically. “What do you want from me? I can only tell you what I saw. I can’t tell you what it means.”
“I’ll tell you what I saw,” one of the soldiers said. “I saw a real, flesh-and-blood dragon attacking our fortress. And those farmers.”
“That’s pixie glamour,” Cayce said. “Vaan and his people must be responsible for it. That’s what they’re enslaved for—to make this thing look like a live dragon.” Cayce held the soldier’s uncertain gaze then turned to face Hask. “I also saw glimpses of it when he chased me up the tunnel. And outside, when he killed my master. He doesn’t look like he’s in good repair. I think he might be breaking down.”
Kula muttered to herself. Then she said aloud. “That would explain why his behavior suddenly became aggressive and unpredictable. A malfunctioning construct… but if he’s actually a machine, who built him and why? Why does a machine want enslaved pixies to make him look like a real dragon?”
“He’s a weapon,” one soldier said. “Like the ones the old soldiers describe. A living siege engine like the ones that attacked during the Machine Invasion. The Phyrexians used all sorts of tricks back then, including camouflage and infiltration.”
Captain Hask’s stern voice cut the other soldiers off just as their voices were rising to contribute.
“Whoever built him and whatever for does not matter to this mission at all,” Hask said. “Nothing changes because he’s a machine. He still attacked us. He’s still raiding your forest, Ma’am. And we still have to destroy him. The fact that we know he’s mechanical gives us an advantage—we know what he is, so we know exactly how to kill him.”
Kula nodded as she continued to stroke her broad chin. “Something still bothers me. It’s as if… yes. Captain,” she said, animated. “You and your men have experience in this area, don’t you? You’ve been in combat against machines before.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Hask said, his voice hollow. “Two years ago we held off an entire battalion of refurbished Yotians for a month. Man to man, artifact warriors are unstoppable, but we found ways to kill them in large numbers.” He nodded toward Boom the golem, and several of the soldiers chuckled.
Kula nodded. “As an anchorite I abhor all forms of machinery, especially those that mimic natural life. I know ten ways to render a machine useless just by focusing the forests power against it.” Kula turned to Cayce.
“Then there’s your master,” she said.
“Former. Master Rus is deceased.”
“Your former master, then. Could he have successfully used that abominable stuff you bore for him? Used it against a machine dragon?”
Cayce hesitated, remembering Rus’s final failed effort to save himself. “Probably. He tried something extraordinary when the dragon came after him, but it didn’t work. Also, I think I hit the dragon with a caustic cloud of something, but that didn’t really do any harm either.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t be sure. My guess is Rus didn’t know what he was up against, so he wasn’t using the right substances or incantations. Most poisons can only kill something that’s actually alive to start with, but there are ways to stop a machine creature—as long as you know that’s what you’re dealing with. You can foul fuel lines, clog gears, or short circuit power supplies.” Cayce shrugged again. “The more lifelike something is, the quicker you should be able to find the substance that’ll kill it. Just focus on the life function the machinery is mimicking, and stop the machinery the same way you would stop the living organ.”
“Charming.” Kula sneered. She looked to Vaan, hovering just over Cayce’s shoulder. “I should congratulate you again, my friend. You got around your geas and convinced me to help you, but you also managed to trick me into assembling a squad of artifact-destruction specialists.”
Vaan could only smile and shrug.
“So,” Kula continued. “I say Hask is correct: Nothing has changed, except in our favor. We will confront the beast according to our original plan, but we will be all the more ready for him now that we know his true form.”
Hask nodded. “Agreed.”
Vaan shoved Cayce forward.
“Hey,” she snapped. Her knee was still dicey and her fingers throbbed. Loosed, her long hair was becoming a handicap. She cleared a few locks away from her face, cursing Vaan again for taking her headdress. She paused. The entire group was staring at her expectantly.
Kula raised one heavy eyebrow at Vaan. The pixie shrugged then turned away.
“And this one,” Kula said, “will lead us in.”
Cayce spun to face the anchorite. “What? Why me? You two are supposed to be the guides.”
Kula bent at the waist, thrusting her massive round face into Cayce’s “My guidance is for us to keep you in front of us, little poisoner. You and your master haven’t proven to be the most trustworthy members of our expedition. And you have been inside the dragon’s tunnel. Vaan can’t show us where the dragon came from when the beast pursued you two. You can.”
Cayce swallowed her next reply. Even if she could get by Kula physically and verbally, she would never escape. The entire party had her surrounded, and none of them looked the slightest bit interested in letting her walk away.
“Besides,” Kula said, “Now that he’s out and a-hunt, there’s absolutely no danger inside his lair. We will be waiting for him when he returns. I plan to have a proper and richly deserved ‘welcome home’ prepared.”
The soldiers laughed. One of them tapped Boom with the handle of his sword and sent a dull, stony thud across the clearing.
Cayce sighed. There was no opportunity here, only cold, hard, infuriating consequences.
“I’ll take you,” Cayce said. “If we survive, I hope in return you won’t hold me accountable for Master Rus’s ill-considered actions.”
Kula smiled. “If we survive, little girl, I’ll personally carry you down the mountain on my shoulders at the head of the victory parade.”
Captain Hask grunted. “We will survive—all of us. The beast will not.” He reached around and touched the linen-wrapped sword on his back. “I swear it.”
Unnerved anew by the officer’s strangely intimate reverence for his weapon, Cayce turned away. She was immediately confronted by the sizeable figure of Kula. The anchorite was breaking off a segment of her live-wood hair band with one hand as she reached out for Cayce with the other. The poisoner’s apprentice yelped as Kula’s massive palm closed over her shoulder.