Her eyes widened involuntarily as she imagined the thing picking up—say—the load on a wagon, and moving it to a barn.
Of course . .. that's what it's for. :Keman—that monster—it's meant to move things.:
:Well, it's doing a good job of it!: Keman responded acidly. :It almost dropped that last bit it threw away right on top of me!:
:No, no, I'm telling you what it's meant to do! That's the job it's meant for, to move things. That's what the Ancestors made itfor!:
The thing stopped, and started hunting for Keman, sweeping its lights over the increasingly-chaotic and increasingly-tangled ranks of constructs. :So—what does a thing like that need—to do its job?: came Keman's reply.
"Ha!" shouted Kyrtian, and the monster was off again. Shana noticed that Kyrtian hadn't bothered to toss any junk this time. He must have seen that the monster wasn't fooled by it anymore.
:A strong back, strong legs, strong arms. It's got to learn, I suppose,: she ventured.
:Well, this one's learning! It's figuring out it shouldn't chase after the decoys we've been tossing. Don't bother throwing things. Just yell, and run,: he replied. :What else, do you think?:
:Kyrtian's already figured out we aren't fooling it anymore. Um. It would need good balance. Not easy to tip over, no matter how heavy the thing is it has to pick up—: she suggested.
:So much for my idea of tripping it: The monster was definitely getting more nimble as it moved. There was less blundering into things now, more picking them up and tossing them aside. Why was it chasing them if it was supposed to be a cargo-mover? Could the enemies of the Ancestors have something to do with that, or had the thing just gone—well—crazy in all the centuries of inactivity?
:You likely wouldn't want it to cut things up, so those pincers must be blunt.: She was trying to think of anything useful.
:Yes. It didn't have to cut that Elvenlord in half, only crush him,: came the sardonic reply. .-Whoever he was and whatever his business was.:
.¦Following Kyrtian, at a guess. Maybe the Great Lords didn 't trust him as much as he thought they did.: She shook herself to get rid of the distracting speculations. It was her turn. She got out of her shelter, picked up a flat piece of 'glass' and chose another hiding place. Maybe if she threw it in a different way than just tossing it anyhow, it might still distract the monster.
"Hey!" she screamed, sent the thing spinning off like the saucers that the children played with, and dashed for cover.
She reached it just in time, and was alarmed to see that this time the construct aimed for the center of the arc, not the place where the glass landed. Too close!
:Keman! Can that thing reach behind itself, do you think?:
She sensed Keman's head popping up cautiously, and got a brief glimpse of what he saw before he dove back down into hiding. .7 don't think it can!: he replied with excitement. .7 don't think it can see behind it, either!:
So. That was one weakness. No, two!
:Ifyou took dragon-form—: she hardly dared suggest it, and Keman would need time to take the form—but in dragon-form Keman was just as big as the monster was. Could he be a match for it?
.7 could leap onto its back and keep it occupied,: Keman replied firmly. -.Then you get to Kyrtian, and both of you get into the tunnel. I'll follow once you're gone. I'll be right on your heels.:
.But—: she protested—she hadn't intended that at all!
:You might as well, since I'm going to do what I want to anyway.: And he closed his mind off to her.
Damn him! she thought with a flare of anger—and shook that off, too. No time, there was no time for anything now but action.
She sensed where Kyrtian was, and waited.
"Ha!" the Elvenlord shouted hoarsely, and made his move. She did the same as soon as the monster was out of sight, planning her run to end near his.
The monster came to a halt almost directly between them, and she froze, holding her breath. Light swept over her hiding-place. Once. Twice.
Did it guess? Were dim senses waking up, becoming keener as its movements grew surer? Instinct shrieked at her to shrink back, further into hiding; sense told her to keep absolutely still.
"Ho!" Keman shouted, and the thing lurched off. Before Kyrtian had a chance to move, Shana did, diving under the wheeled vehicle that concealed him.
She found herself nose-to-nose with the Elvenlord, whose white face held an expression of utter shock at seeing her. "We need to get it to turn as soon as it's on top of Keman," she whispered without preamble. "He's going to take dragon-form and jump on it from behind."
"And do what?" Kyrtian asked, aghast.
"How should I know?" she snapped. "He's decided that's what he's going to do so we can get out the way your two men did. He says he's going to follow—"
"Well I think I can drain that thing if he can get it immobilized—" Kyrtian began, and the crashing footsteps stopped.
Before Kyrtian could do anything, Shana rolled out from underneath the construct and stood up."Hey!" she screamed, waving her arms this time. "Hey! Stupid! Over here!"
35
Barking his elbows on the stone floor in his haste to get out, Kyrtian scrambled from under the construct just in time to see the monster turn towards them.
It was not an encouraging sight. And it got rapidly worse.
Shana just stood there, waving her arms at it, and the two bright spots—far too much like glaring, angry eyes—on its square, flat front panned over the space between them and pinned her in a circle of white light.
His mouth went dry, and fear ran down his backbone like a trickle of icy water. The thing emitted an angry whine, and lurched forward.
But before it had taken more than a single step, something moved in the darkness behind it, a shadowy form he barely made out against the glare, that wavered and surged upwards all in an instant—and then lunged.
Keman!
Monster of flesh against monster of metal. The dragon landed squarely on the construct's back, claws shrieking against its sides. The monster's legs buckled beneath the dragon's weight as Kyrtian stared in frozen fascination—
And that was all he had time to see, as Shana grabbed his wrist and wrenched him around, pulling at him. "Run!" she shouted, showing her heels as a good example, and he didn't need a second invitation. The monster might be encumbered, but it certainly wasn't defeated, and behind them the sounds of it thrashing about and Keman's claws scrabbling to take hold were proof enough of that.
Fear gave him a new burst of energy. They sprinted across the cave floor with Shana slightly in the lead—not because Kyrtian was playing the gentleman, either. The girl must have spent her childhood scrambling across rough ground like this; where he stumbled, she skimmed over obstacles like a frightened deer.
She must have a separate set of eyes in her feet.. . .
Behind them, crashes and earth-shuddering impacts testified that Keman was still in the fight. Ancestors bless you, dragon. But get yourself out of it as soon as we're clear!