“Death is not your gift,” said Chunth. “I told you, you are a nexus of power. You must learn to harness that power before the convergence or it may well be the end of the world.”
“Then teach me, O wise one,” said Glissa. “Show me how to use my power, and I will save the world. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“It is not as easy as that,” said Chunth. An urgency in his voice made Glissa suspend her sarcasm and listen. “You may not know the right thing to do when the time comes. You don’t understand.”
“Help me understand,” said Glissa softly. “Look, I know you sent me out with this sword to try to save my family. I’m grateful for that. But I need some answers. Who is Memnarch? What is the serum? Who is trying to kill me? How do I stop all of this?”
Chunth took a deep breath, settled down into the chair, and closed his eyes. “All right. No more riddles,” he said. “I will tell you what I know. The person behind this must be a vedalken.”
“Vedalken?”
“They dwell on the Quicksilver Sea, past the Mephidross. The vedalken harvest the serum you have there. They crave power and are willing to do anything to gain it.”
“Even kill,” said Glissa.
“Oh yes,” replied Chunth. His thick lips curled in an unpleasant smile. “The vedalken have killed millions over the years … maybe more. This vial of serum alone cost the lives of a score of blinkmoths.”
“What are blinkmoths?”
“They are what you see at night. You imagine they are the stars above and the fireflies that roam the Tangle. They are living creatures, lighting the sky with their serum-filled bodies, raining water down upon the land. For hundreds of cycles the vedalken have harvested them.”
“Why?”
“The vedalken drink the serum to gain knowledge of the world and knowledge of Memnarch,” said Chunth. His eyes grew distant. “I, too, drank the serum, once. Long ago, when the Tree of Tales had but a few runes etched into its base, I learned of the blinkmoths and many other secrets of this world. It is an amazing liquid. It unlocks the knowledge of the world, its creation, and its creator. A taste provides visions of the mysteries of the cosmos. A vial such as this can begin a journey toward unlocking those mysteries.”
“That sounds wonderful,” said Glissa. “Why not use the serum to help us live better lives? We could learn to control the levelers, make it rain more often, begin to master this planet.… Oh! I see.”
“Yes,” said Chunth. “You see. Where does it end? Even the most altruistic among us would eventually use the power for personal ends. That path inevitably leads to ruin. Power and greed together are always destructive, and the price for the power is too high. The vedalken have murdered blinkmoths by the millions to attain their current stature.”
“Are these vedalken a tall, robed people with domes for heads?”
Chunth nodded. “They were not always as you see them now. Their race has evolved far beyond any of the others on Mirrodin.”
“Because of the serum?”
Chunth nodded again.
“But why do the vedalken want me dead?” the elf persisted. “If they have all this power, what do they want with me?
“That I do not know,” said Chunth. “They are playing at being gods. They have the knowledge of the ancients but not the power to wield it. Perhaps they fear your power. Perhaps they wish to harness it. I do not know.”
“Or perhaps they just want to stop me from destroying the world,” said Glissa drily. “If Ushanti of the leonin had the power, she would kill me. What of this Memnarch? Is he the leader of the vedalken?”
Chunth looked weary. His eyes were closed and he was rubbing his temples with his fists. Glissa wasn’t sure he’d even heard her questions. Perhaps she should let the old troll rest and begin again later. At last he spoke.
“For many hundreds of cycles now, I have tried to keep the elves and trolls safe in the Tangle. I kept knowledge of the blinkmoths a secret to prevent our races from falling victim to the allure of their power. I erased all mention of the old world from the histories so the elves and trolls would not search for their pasts. But you need to know of Memnarch. You need to know the truth.”
The metal door scraped across the floor behind Chunth, and the old troll turned. Glissa looked up. Another troll stood in the open doorway. It was not one of the guards. He wore the robes of an elder.
Chunth barked, “I left instructions not to be disturbed. What is so urgent?”
The troll in the doorway did not speak. Instead he lifted his metal-clad arm and turned his wrist over. Glissa could see something cupped in his fist-a blue orb that gleamed in the dim light of the gelfruit.
“What is that?” demanded Chunth. “What are you doing?”
“She must die,” responded the elder in a faint voice. He opened his fist, and the orb flashed. A bolt of blue lightning streaked across the room. Glissa dived off her chair as Chunth jumped to his feet in front of her. The lightning slammed into the old troll’s chest, knocking him back onto the table.
He crashed to the floor, taking the table, cups, and gelfruit with him. The vial of serum flew from his hand. Glissa tried to move, but her foot was pinned beneath the broken table. She stared helplessly as the elder in the doorway held the orb out again, his palm facing Glissa.
Nothing happened.
He shook the orb, trying to make it work. His eyes strayed to the floor and widened when he saw the vial of serum. Glissa pulled frantically on her foot but could not free it. The elder smiled a toothy grin, scooped up the vial of serum, and turned and fled down the tunnel. Glissa looked from the empty doorway down to Chunth, sprawled atop her leg. A huge hole penetrated his chest, and he was gasping for air.
“Glissa …” he wheezed. “I must … tell you.…”
Glissa lifted the old troll’s fleshy head and cradled it in her arms.
“Don’t speak,” she said. “I’ll get help.” With an agonizing jerk, she pulled her foot free.
“No time,” he rasped. “You need … to know.”
“What is it?” said Glissa. She could feel tears on her face.
“The world,” said Chunth. Blood trickled from his mouth as he spoke. “Not … what it seems. It … is …”
“What?”
“Hollow.”
Chunth’s eyes closed, and his head sagged into Glissa’s arms.
CHAPTER 13
Glissa laid Chunth’s head down and stood, testing her ankle. Chunth was gone. Another in a growing line of deaths meant for her. There was only one person who could tell her why. She sprinted down the tunnel after the assassin, screaming.
“Guards, guards,” she shouted. “Chunth has been murdered.”
When she reached the secret door, guards surrounded her. “Chunth is dead,” she gasped. “An elder with a blue orb … did any of you see him come past you?”
Glissa turned and looked at the wall, searching for the catch that opened the secret door. Behind her, one of the guards was barking orders.
“You four, get the elders to safety,” he snapped. “The rest of you escort the elf to her friends.”
“No,” screamed Glissa as she patted the wall. “We must find the elder. He killed Chunth. I told you. An elder killed Chunth, then ran down here.”
The guard spun around to face her. “How do we know you didn’t kill Chunth? You have attacked us before.”
Glissa stared at him. He could have been one of the guards she had locked in Chunth’s room the last time she was here. They all looked alike to her.
“Because if I had,” she said slowly, “I wouldn’t be screaming about it … and you would all be dead by now.”
The guard swallowed hard and released her arm. “What did this elder look like?”
Glissa turned back to the secret door. She found the catch, but the door refused to open. “He was an old troll,” she said over her shoulder. “He was carrying a blue orb that shoots lightning.” She slammed the catch with the butt of her sword and swore. “Flare! Why won’t this open?”