The elf girl’s stomach did gymnastics. Slobad was alive, apparently controlling those little machines somehow, but what kind of life was this? Was Glissa going to find herself nothing more than a mind connected to a machine, only able to communicate via bug-talk?
“I’m sorry, Slobad,” Glissa said softly.
With a smooth flourish, the Guardian lifted the Miracore’s chain over his head and let the asymmetrical disk dangle on his chest. On the Guardian, the talisman looked miniscule.
“Rest, Karn,” Memnarch said with a cheerfulness that made Glissa wonder if that tone was just the beginning of the torture. “Rest and recuperation was what we needed. A good long rest to cleanse the soul. Good for the spark, too. It has kept the spark safe. It returned, as we knew it would. Now, in this pure body, I shall surely be worthy, Karn.”
“Nice,” Glissa said. “Very shiny.”
“The spark thinks it needs a tongue to be of use to me, my Creator,” the Guardian said. “Perhaps I shall remove it.” The bulky silver creature crab-walked to a silver panel and tapped out a pattern on colored gemstones. The entire Panopticon, including the rack that held Glissa in place, began to vibrate with a deep hum. She felt her guts lurch as the diamond-shaped structure started to slide toward the center of the great platform outside, taking them all with it. After a few minutes, a loud clang sounded as an enormous latch somewhere below snapped into place. If Glissa didn’t miss her guess, they were now sitting directly over the large hole cut into the center of the platform. There was nothing between her and the simmering mana core but this structure, which suddenly felt much less solid.
“It is genius,” Memnarch said. “You see my new form, and the mycosynth spires are gone. The time of flesh has passed.” He gazed out a tinted crystal window at the enormous struts and spikes that comprised the world-sized machine Memnarch-or someone-had built into the interior.
“I know what it thinks,” the Guardian said. “It thinks I built this great machine. But it cannot understand how, if I have been sleeping for five years. It thinks five years is a long time.” He laughed, a cold, mechanical sound. “Of course, the goblin built it, as you advised me. And I took the time to rejuvenate myself. To cleanse the spore. The goblin did very good work, don’t you think?”
Even if Glissa had thought Memnarch was speaking to her-and apparently he wasn’t-she wouldn’t have answered. What the Guardian said had just sunk in. Glissa stared at poor Slobad, a hunk of sentient meat connected to nothing but serum and the tiny artifact creatures. In thrall to the Guardian.
“Yes, wonderful work, built to specifications but with a few special idiosyncratic touches that shows it was goblin-made,” Memnarch said. “My very own Ascension Web.”
CHAPTER 28
“Can it feel the power gathering above? In the caged mana core below?” Memnarch asked. “Does the spark it has stolen tell it the time is near? Does the spark cry out, ready to feed my ascension?”
Glissa could feel the power gathering. She strained against her bonds and said, “I can’t feel anything-all my blood’s stuck down in my boots. Think you could loosen this thing a little?”
“How could you choose such an unworthy vessel, Karn?” Memnarch called to the sky. There was no answer that Glissa could hear. Memnarch nodded as if listening to a good joke, then burst into laughter. “Ah, of course,” the Guardian chuckled.
“Uh, what did … er, Karn say?” Glissa asked.
“Yes, all vessels shatter eventually, my Creator,” Memnarch said, ignoring her. “Mere storage.”
Glissa’s skin was beginning to tingle. The alignment of the suns-moons-was so close she could taste it, and from the way Memnarch was raving he could tell, too. In desperation, Glissa tried to call on the destructive spark-magic. But something was cutting her off completely from the power. She hoped that didn’t mean the Tangle was already gone.
Light poured in from above as the Guardian slapped another gemstone, and the top half of the diamond-shaped structure split open like a budding flower. What had been the ceiling folded flat against the exterior, and Glissa stared up into a reflection of the dazzling mana ball, occulted by the black shadow cast by the core of Memnarch’s Ascension Web.
Memnarch slipped a pair of slim silver disks into his palm and scuttled over to Glissa. Without preamble, he slapped one disk to her forehead, where it stuck. He slipped the other one into a thin slit on the top of the Miracore. Then he busied himself with examining the flat panels that lined the walls, occasionally muttering, “Yes, yes,” or “Not long now, my Creator.”
The elf girl bit back a cry as a sharp pain jabbed into the side of her neck. She strained her eyes and saw one of the construct bugs had mounted her shoulder and extended a thin silver needle into a spot just below her ear.
Glissa, a familiar voice sounded inside her head, giving her a start.
“Slo-” she caught herself. Slobad?
What is left of Slobad. Glissa must listen. Must know what will happen. Maybe can stop. Huh.
Why didn’t you say something before?
Couldn’t. When crab-legs woke up, I could. Crazy magic. Huh. Did you see the needles?
Needles? An image of the strange spires that dotted the surface flashed unbidden in her mind.
Those needles. Seen them. Huh.
Yes. What are they?
They’re part of web. I made them from littler constructs. They’re filled with serum. All the serum left in the world, huh?
Glissa examined the huge struts again that supported the mesh ball that caged the mana core. The serum absorbs magic, doesn’t it?
Yes. The needles will take from suns and send it to the lacunae. The soul traps-
Soul traps?
Had metal man collect them all. All in those needles closest to lacuna. Those ones are hollow. He needs souls to charge serum. When suns line up over each lacuna, crab-legs sends all that hypercharged energy into the core. Then second wave destroys core, wipes out last soul traps, and takes your spark.
Soul traps? Glissa repeated. She didn’t hear Slobad’s mental response, if he sent one, because she suddenly received the most powerful flare she’d ever experienced. She stood in a clearing in the strange forest that she had seen long ago. Several other elves, their bodies made of soft flesh, surrounded her. She felt without knowing how that they had come here to hide. She also knew somehow that these elves were the last of their kind on this strange plane.
Suddenly the elf closest to her disappeared in a flash, and within seconds the others popped out of existence one by one. Finally, a bright white light swallowed Glissa whole and the flare world vanished.
Crazy streaks of color flooded her vision next. Flashes and streams of energy streaked past at impossible speed. She could not feel her own body, only the sensation of constant acceleration, faster, faster. The silver globe of Mirrodin appeared in the center of the light show and grew rapidly, and filled her vision entirely. This was a Mirrodin free of life, covered in odd geometric shapes. Unable to slow herself, she rapidly approached the surface then veered off toward a snarled mass of silver that she realized was the Tangle-only this ancient forest did not yet contain a hint of green. Disembodied Glissa skimmed low along the smooth silver forest floor then collided with a small boxy shape surrounded by leafless vines.
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.