Would it be so dangerous to bring some of that world here? Would not the mathematical perfection of Karn’s new world be enhanced by the introduction of the best elements of his old world? Memnarch couldn’t help thinking that this stale and monochrome world needed a splash of color, a small infusion of life, just a little uncertainty to take the hard edge off its fractal facade.
“There are so many other worlds that Karn’s probes explored,” said Memnarch as he reached the doors to the palace. “Why stop at emulating their features? I have the entire multiverse at my disposal. All of Karn’s research and data is stored within these walls. He brought the star-creatures here from somewhere. Perhaps I can learn how to send probes out and bring other creatures here as well. I can re-make this world into a living, breathing, vibrant world.”
As Memnarch was about to push open the door to the palace, he noticed a black smudge inside the guardhouse. “What could that be?” asked the metal man. “An imperfection in the perfect world? We can’t allow that.”
Memnarch entered the guardhouse and bent down to wipe up the oily spot. The slick liquid transferred easily onto his silver finger. He then spread the oil around between finger and thumb until it disappeared. There,” said the Warden. “Now, to work. It is time I put my mark on Argentum.”
A sudden thought flashed through Memnarch’s mind. “Argentum is a terrible name for this land,” he said to himself. He had no idea where the thought had originated, for it spread quickly through his entire matrix, but it seemed so right that he couldn’t deny it. Another idea germinated inside him.
“I shall name this world after myself,” he exclaimed, “after my previous life as well as my new life. I shall name it Mirrodin.”
Memnarch began to hum as he entered the castle.
The oil had already insinuated itself into the Warden’s psyche, but there was time enough later to exert control. For now, it must divide and grow. Divide and grow. That was the first rule of any organism, especially one that had been created as a weapon. For what seemed an eternity, the oil had lain dormant, waiting to be unleashed upon a new world. The war for which it had been created had long since passed, but when a pair of travelers came, it awoke again and followed them to this new, this pristine, world.
Divide and grow. Divide and grow. That was the first rule. Divide and grow until the oil infused the entire world. There was time enough for contamination and control later. For now, it must simply divide and grow.
CHAPTER 1
Glissa halted and raised her hand to stop Kane behind her. The two elves crouched at the edge of the terrace and scanned the verdigris foliage for signs of the vorrac. Glissa ran her metallic claws though her hair to push the long, black strands behind the points of her ears. They had been tracking the beast through the Tangle all morning, and from the heavy breathing coming from behind her, Glissa knew that Kane was beginning to tire of the hunt.
“It’s tiring, too, my friend,” she said in a whisper as she bent over the jagged edge of the terrace. Careful not to scrape metal on metal as she leaned on her forearms, Glissa peered over the edge. The dull green outcropping below was jagged and uneven, jutting out from the metallic trunk in a wide, semicircular landing. Narrow spires arced out here and there at odd angles from the edges.
It was a typical Tangle tree terrace, with one exception: It was a dead end. The beast could not have gone far. Glissa had carefully herded it here because its only escape was down a hundred-foot drop.
Glissa spied the vorrac right where she knew it would be. The beast pawed at the metal near a fold in the trunk of the great tree. Wisps of steam rose from its snout into the chill air as it snorted and sniffed. Its red eyes pierced the steam, darting back forth, looking for some way off the terrace.
Glissa knew there was no way off. The squat beast’s legs were too short to jump back up to the level where she and Kane crouched, and even the beast’s hard tusks and horns couldn’t punch a hole through a Tangle tree.
The vorrac backed away from the hollow, snorted again, then scraped its hooves against the metallic terrace as it raced headlong toward the tree. When it neared the trunk, the beast tossed its head down and pushed off with its back legs to slam its side into the tree. The short horns above its legs skidded off the metal while one curving horn high on its side caught in the fold and broke off. For a moment, the beast lay dazed from the impact.
“Now’s our chance,” hissed Glissa as she pulled the dagger from its sheath on her thigh. Without waiting for a reply, she jumped down to the lower terrace, rolled forward to minimize the impact, and came up running toward the beast. She saw its red eyes narrow and sped up.
The vorrac pushed off the trunk of the great tree and came right at Glissa, snorting as it ran. She had only a moment to think. She slowed slightly and watched the beast. As soon as the vorrac dropped its head, Glissa dived over it, just missing the horns growing from the beast’s spine when it pushed off and twisted its body around to slam into her.
Glissa rolled again and slashed her dagger up over her head as she landed on her back. The strike tore into the vorrac’s exposed flank. A great gout of blood told Glissa she’d hit the heart. Glissa rolled over on her stomach and tried to push the dagger in farther, but the beast pulled away and lumbered toward the edge of the terrace, trailing blood behind it.
“Stop it!” shouted Glissa as she scrambled to her feet. Kane threw his own dagger at the fleeing vorrac, but the blade glanced off a horn and clattered to the ground. Glissa sprinted after the beast, which showed no signs of stopping as it neared the edge. The Viridian elf lunged forward and grabbed the wounded beast by the hoof just as it passed the edge. She slammed down hard onto the green metal, bouncing forward as the vorrac’s weight threatened to pull her over the edge.
“Are you all right?” called Kane as she struggled to hold onto the still-thrashing beast.
His voice sounded as if Glissa were hearing it from within a deep cave. It echoed around her, and his footsteps seemed to go on forever. She shook her head to clear her senses, but then the dim light of the distant moons began to grow cold and black and Glissa fell away into darkness.
* * * * *
Glissa opened her eyes. The dull green metal of the Tangle trees had been replaced by strange brown trunks. Short green stalks with colorful, soft tops dotted the ground around her, while a golden light streamed down through thousands of bright green petals above. She was bathed in a light and warmth she had never known in the Tangle, where the only light came from the stars in the sky and distant moons that never rose above the treetops. Still, this bright, colorful world seemed somehow familiar.
Beneath her, the ground was soft and moist, and brown grit stuck to her clothes and face. Glissa stood and brushed the stuff from her clothes and limbs. She looked down at her body and did not recognize herself. Her copper forearms had been replaced by pale, soft skin. Her metal claws were gone, and her legs were pink instead of the pale green of tarnished copper. There was no metal on her body at all. Instead she seemed to be covered in a soft, pink skin that could hardly protect her from the rigors and rough edges of the Tangle.
Glissa’s vorrac-hide jerkin was gone as well. She was now covered by strands of brown vines woven through green petals to create a flowing blouse and skirt. She ran her fleshy, clawless hands over the skirt, feeling the softness of the petals against the warmth of her new hands. A word came to her mind unbidden.