‘I believe that they are all that remain of the tribes that the Strigoi once warred with for control of these mountains. Kadon apparently enslaved thousands to build Mourkain, and when he was finished, the survivors were driven into the darkness, where they fed on the blind things swimming in the deep pools and gnawed the marrow from centuries of bones,’ W’soran said. He chuckled. ‘Mortals degenerate so swiftly. I have undertaken a study of it, and the results are—’
‘Unimportant,’ Neferata said.
‘I would beg to differ,’ W’soran said. He threw back his head and uttered an inhuman screech. A moment later, claws clattered across the stone. Neferata, prepared for treachery, was already turning as the ghouls scrambled up over the edge of the landing and bounded towards her. The first ghoul died, its skull shattered and driven into its spine by a blow from her fist. The second was opened like a fish, from groin to gullet. Behind her, something horrible gave a deep, rumbling cough.
Neferata spun and looked up into the dead, black eyes of something that stank of a battlefield. It was larger than the pitiful pale maggot-creatures milling about below, with a bloated musculature and infected, weeping sores through which protruded lengths of filthy yellow bone. It gave a cursory grunt as it stared down at her with a look of glazed ferocity.
Shock hammered through her. ‘What—’
‘Isn’t he lovely?’ W’soran cackled. He glanced at Ushoran, who was watching the confrontation calmly. ‘Watch, Ushoran. Watch and see!’
The creature coughed and then rose up and threw back its head, uttering a soul-chilling howl. The howl was answered by the ghouls that clung to the walls. The corpse-eaters scuttled down like foul white spiders, their eyes gleaming with mingled fear and hunger. A few held bloody lumps of meat torn from the two ghouls she had just dispatched.
The big creature grunted and its claws spread. It licked its broken fangs and eyed her hungrily. It made a slurping sound as it started forwards. Confused, she almost didn’t avoid the first lunge. Normally, ghouls were frightened of her kind, as foxes fled from wolves, but this thing — this horror — seemed almost enthusiastic to come to grips with her.
‘What is the meaning of this, you old monster?’ she snarled.
‘Testing a hypothesis, my queen,’ W’soran chortled, clapping his hands. ‘Best pay attention, Neferata!’
The monster gave a thunderous hog-grunt and swiped at her. She leapt back, landing lightly on the shoulders of a surprised ghoul, and then vaulted over the giant’s next blow. The unfortunate ghoul was bisected. Neferata landed behind the creature and it spun with a roar. It launched itself at her, slobbering grotesquely.
She backhanded it, putting every bit of muscle she had into the blow. The creature staggered, its jaw shattered and possibly its neck as well, but it didn’t stop. Instead, it latched on to her and hooked her forearm with its teeth. She screamed, more in shock than pain, as it savaged her arm and lapped greedily at the blood that poured forth. She yanked her arm free of its vile grip and kicked it away.
‘Look! Look,’ W’soran said, gesturing excitedly. ‘See! I told you, Ushoran.’
‘I see,’ Ushoran said.
The beast scrambled to its feet and, moaning, leapt at Neferata again. She ducked under its extended arms and jumped up swiftly, her palm striking its throat. Before it could worm free of her grip, she ripped its throat out in a welter of gore. It sagged with a sigh, falling to all fours. Neferata tossed the lump of flesh aside and glared at the other flesh-eaters, giving them a snarl. They slunk away, whining.
Neferata turned her glare on the other two vampires. Ushoran shrugged, but W’soran shook his head. ‘Almost, almost,’ he muttered.
Neferata leapt onto him, quicker than either of them could react. Her hands found W’soran’s scrawny throat and she wrenched his bony body into the air and brought it down on the stone with a resounding crack. W’soran squealed and grabbed her face. His strength was surprising and she felt her flesh tear as she jerked him up again and flung him onto the steps hard enough to shatter one. W’soran shook his head and tried to climb to his feet but she was on him before he could, her claws hooked into his scalp.
‘Neferata,’ Ushoran growled.
Neferata hissed, tempted to throw off the masquerade she had only so recently taken up. Instead, she released the other vampire and stood. ‘Was that a test, Ushoran?’ she said.
‘Not the kind you are thinking of, no,’ Ushoran said. W’soran heaved himself up, his eyes incandescent with fury.
‘I should flay your pearly flesh from your treacherous bones,’ he rasped, glaring at Neferata. He clenched his fists, as if contemplating unleashing a spell.
‘But you won’t,’ Ushoran said, interposing himself. ‘We will put aside old grudges.’ He looked at Neferata. ‘There was no treachery here. You were in no danger. W’soran merely wanted to test his newest creation’s abilities.’
‘What was it?’ Neferata said, tentatively touching the already healing bite-mark in her arm.
‘A ghoul,’ W’soran said.
Neferata blinked, surprised. W’soran laughed. ‘Oh yes. I told you that I had been studying them.’ He grinned at her. ‘I have learned much, Neferata. Things that would make even your blood curdle.’ In that moment, Neferata was reminded again of the fear she had once felt when in W’soran’s presence. There was a horrible hunger in his eyes, a hunger that went beyond simple bloodthirst into something else. Nonetheless, she held his gaze until he looked away.
‘If there are no more tests, perhaps I could see the vaults. Where are they?’
‘Scattered all up and down the spine of the mountain,’ Ushoran said, gesturing. ‘I’ve had W’soran’s maggot-addled minions digging them open. Kadon was like a jackal with a bone. He hid his wealth in random places. When he needed a new vault, he merely made one, using the dead to claw it from the rock.’
‘Nagash employed similar techniques in Nagashizzar,’ W’soran said.
‘Which is where I got the idea,’ Ushoran added. W’soran shot him a look, but said nothing. Neferata smirked. The two — the spy and the sorcerer — had never been friends. They were allies of convenience at most, and spiteful allies at that. If that spite were ever unlocked… She filed the thought away for future consideration. There were other levers and locks than just those crafted by the dwarfs in their palaces of stone.
The numbers of corpses increased the lower they went. Stumbling bodies covered in dried flesh walked alongside things that were nothing save bone and scraps of cloth. They came to what could only be an observation platform. Neferata leaned over the stone barrier and peered down into the inner workings of the mine. The dead moved like ants in their thousands, scurrying this way and that. Great machines, the likes of which she had never seen in all her years, ground away at the deep stone, manned by the squat, desiccated shapes of long-dead dwarfs. These latter corpses were even more unnerving than the humans, orcs and beasts that served as labour. Mangy beards, plaited with ancient jewellery, hung from fleshless jaws. Ragged suits of mail dangled from broad bones and strange lights danced in empty eye-sockets.
‘Where by all the devils in the dark did you get those?’ she hissed.
‘Kadon took prisoners as well as gold in his war with the dawi,’ Ushoran said. ‘He forced them to craft him machines of great and fell purpose, down here in the dark.’
‘The mummified corpses of the dwarfs retain a significant amount of muscle memory,’ W’soran mused, eyes guttering like embers.