“Well, which way did they go?”
The guide pointed into the darkness.
Chapter 17
They pursued Koth and the fleshling through the vast room. Venser put his blue wisps before them so they could see. Far in the distance the guide said he could see a slight red glow, which they understood to be Koth’s own light. Venser remarked at how someone as large as Koth could move so quickly.
“They are captured,” Elspeth said.
“Has any Phyrexian tried to capture us yet?” Venser said.
“They captured you.”
“Well, Koth is not captured. He has the fleshling.”
“Where are they going?” Elspeth said, turning to the guide, her voice raised.
Even though his chest and head were administering a fair amount of pain to him, Venser still noticed how the disappearance of the fleshling had affected Elspeth’s mood for the worse.
“I do not know,” the guide said. “I know no door that way.”
“That cannot be good,” Venser said. “How could Koth know his way down here?”
“Because he’s a spy,” Elspeth said. “I don’t know.”
To Venser the room seemed to never end. They walked for a time and then they ran. Hours passed and perhaps days, but Elspeth would not let them stop. Even when the cuts on Venser’s chest began to throb and his thinking was muddled by the blow to his head, even then Elspeth would not let them stop.
“Drink some of your magic potion,” she snapped.
He did not. But he did pat the small bottle in his torn shirt. He would be having a sip soon enough.
Elspeth’s temper shortened as the trail cooled. At one point, the guide stopped and looked back the way they had come, then forward again with a confused look on his face.
“What is it?” Elspeth said.
“It seems we are being followed,” he said.
“But where are the fleshling and the other one?”
The guide looked ahead. “I do not see the light anymore.”
“You have lost the trail?”
The guide stared ahead. He bent to a crouch and carefully removed the glove from his left hand, which was metal. He placed his fingertips on the metal floor.
“Yes, I feel the tramp of many feet from behind,” the guide said. “And none from ahead.”
“How many behind?” Venser said.
The guide was silent with his fingers to the metal. “Many,” he said at last. “Very many are running, metal on metal.”
“Like Phyrexians?” Venser said.
The guide said nothing.
Elspeth shook her head. All they needed right now. More Phyrexians.
“What is ahead of us?” Venser said to the guide.
“As I said earlier, I know of no doors ahead.”
“And the wall?” Venser said. “Is just ahead, I suppose?”
The guide nodded.
“So we are flanked,” Elspeth said.
“It seems so,” the guide said.
“Then let’s run and see if there is a new doorway in the wall,” Venser said.
But Elspeth barely ran. She jogged along behind Venser and the guide, and when they reached the wall she stood staring behind. Venser and the guide began feeling for inconsistencies on the smooth wall, but found none. Elspeth continued staring back.
“I won’t go back into their care,” Elspeth said.
Venser and the guide had moved on to the floor, and found nothing. When Elspeth spoke, Venser stood and walked over to her. By then he could feel the tramp of metal feet and heavy machinery through his boots. Elspeth turned as Venser approached.
“I will not go back into their prisons again,” Elspeth repeated.
“So you say,” Venser said.
Elspeth looked down at his belt, where his dented helmet was strapped. “What will you do with it?”
“Mend it when I have more energy,” he said.
The floor was starting to vibrate hard. The guide appeared out of the darkness. “They are a very large force,” he said, breathless from running. “And they are looking for something.”
“They are looking for the fleshling,” Venser said. “At least she is away with Koth and not here.” Venser looked over his shoulder, half expecting the fleshling and Koth to step out of the shadows at his pronouncement.
Elspeth drew her sword out of its scabbard. She felt better than she had in years, and her sword gleamed brighter than ever.
“This is a force we cannot hope to prevail against,” the guide said.
“What other options do we have?” Venser said.
“You can jump away,” Elspeth said.
“But I won’t.”
“But you should. Go. Attack them from the rear if that gives you the justification you need. As I remember, you were able to give me justifications for retreat earlier in this quest. I am giving you the same for teleporting.”
Venser cocked his head at Elspeth. “Are those tears on your cheeks?”
“Heroes shed no tears,” Elspeth said.
From beyond Venser’s blue wisps came the calls of the enemy. As Elspeth watched, a horde broke into view. They were all shapes and sizes, legs and elbows jabbing out and eyes iridescent. Long-legged shanks and howling mouths filled with chipped and jagged teeth-all charged the small circle of blue light.
Elspeth, her teeth gritted and tears streaming down her face, charged. Her cry was so fierce and her form so terrible, that the first line of Phyrexians shied and fell back at her advance. Her sword was held above her head and it shined like the very essence of metal in the darkened room. When she struck, the sword’s blade became a blur. Phyrexians fell around her, first three then more. Soon there was a pile of twisted, skeletal bodies around her. But still she did not stop.
Venser breathed four breaths, and with these he pulled every ounce of mana he could tether or muster from the world around. His ears became full with the ringing of its arrival, and soon his brainpan felt as though it would overflow. Phyrexians ran to him and Venser reached out and seized the first one’s arm, bending its body so it fell, baying, to the floor. In the next moment he blinked away and appeared in the very middle of the horde, where he began tapping. Each tap sent a pulse through the metal exoskeleton. The pulse traveled the raceway of metal, picking up speed and amplifying itself. By the time it reached the brains of the creatures, it was powerful enough to cause a massive attack. The creatures fell seconds after he touched them.
There were piles of dead Phyrexians laid out over the shadowy circle of blue light. Few Phyrexians remained, and those left were being dealt with by Elspeth, who had begun slashing through them one at a time. For one mad second, Venser thought they might actually prevail.
Then more Phyrexians howled into sight. Many more of them, huge levelers, nattering micronaughts, and stinking long-legged beasts with hammered-together armor and black holes for eyes. A force three times again as large as the one they had decimated.
Venser blinked back to Elspeth’s side. The white warrior glanced at him. Her face was sheathed in sweat as she went back to hoisting her sword and slashing it down. Venser’s arms burned and his legs felt flimsy and useless.
The new force of Phyrexians fell on them. Venser was forced back. He looked over just in time to see a pack of large Phyrexians encircle Elspeth so that he could only see the tip of her sword doing its grim work. Then, the sword’s tip, too, disappeared from sight.
This was when he could disappear, Venser knew. This was when he could blink into the darkness and away. He was sure that the guide was out in the darkness waiting. In all likelihood he could find him. But then what? He could not leave, as infected as he was with the Phyrexian oil. He turned back to the Phyrexians.
What had Elspeth said?
‘Heroes shed no tears.’
The Phyrexians hurled themselves onto him, knocking him over. They were on him, smelling like the sewer and popping their joints as they raked their frenzied claws over him. He could not move under the weight of them.
“Hold.”
The voice came loud and clear, and the Phyrexians froze. Venser felt a cold drip on his forehead. A huge Phyrexian was dripping black oil on him from its left eye socket.