Jess Lebow - The Darksteel Eye

Pontifex looked him over.

The vedalken had a slight build, even for his relatively frail race. His four arms were long and skinny and seemed out of proportion to his short body. Pontifex drew himself up to his full height, noting that he overtopped the man by nearly an entire head.

“Lord Pontifex,” said Orland, “it is my honor and privilege to stand before you as your equal and colleague. Thank you for allowing us an audience.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” replied Pontifex. “Please, come, sit down.” He guided the other three councilors to form-fitting, high-backed chairs surrounding a sturdy table.

When all of the men were seated, Pontifex cleared his throat. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

Orland opened his mouth to speak, but Sodador cut him off. “Forgive us, Lord Pontifex, but this is official Synod business.” He looked at Marek. “Would you be so kind as to excuse the commander?”

Pontifex scowled. “Might I remind you, Sodador, that you are inside my personal chambers. Marek is an honorable man, and my trusted servant. While there are guests, I require a bodyguard.”

“Oh, please!” spat Sodador. “We are no threat to you.”

“This is official business,” interjected Tyrell. “How can we be expected to speak freely if we have an audience?”

Orland looked at Marek then turned to both Sodador and Tyrell. “Gentlemen, please. Lord Pontifex has been gracious enough to allow us into his chamber. We should respect his wishes.”

Pontifex looked at the new councilor. Perhaps this one could be of some use after all. “Thank you, Councilor Orland.” He smiled. “As you were saying?”

“Yes. We have come to you at my urging. I realize the circumstances surrounding my appointment to the Synod were unorthodox. I want to make sure that my presence in the decision-making process is not seen as an invasion.”

“My dear Orland,” Pontifex said, “whatever would make you think such preposterous things? The representatives voted in a legal assembly. The outcome is indisputable.”

Orland nodded. “Precisely, but if I were in your position, I might feel as if I’d been fooled.”

Sodador and Tyrell squirmed in their seats.

“I’ve come to you on a mission of diplomacy,” continued Orland, “to make available to you my services-as a token of my respect and dedication to the greater good of the vedalken people.”

Pontifex was puzzled. “What do you have in mind?”

Orland smiled. “Helping you catch the elf girl, of course.”

Glissa followed Drooge through a winding passageway inside the Tree of Tales. As they ran, they descended. The clank of Bosh’s feet on the metal ground filled the passageway, drowning out the sounds of battle from above.

The tunnel twisted and turned then abruptly ended around a corner at a set of stairs leading up.

“This is where I must leave you,” said the troll chieftain. “Good luck to you, and good speed.” Drooge nodded to the three, then ducked back down the passage.

“So we go up again, huh?” said the goblin.

“Guess so,” replied Glissa. “Any idea where we are?”

Both Slobad and Bosh shook their heads.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Glissa pulled her sword from her sheath and climbed the stairs.

The goblin and the golem followed.

The stairway led up into a dark cavern. At the opposite end, a small opening let in light, and with it the sounds of battle.

“Come on,” Glissa led the others to the opening and looked out. They were near the edge of the Tangle inside a narrow cave at the base of a very large tree. The army of levelers covered the ground before them, but their attention was focused the other direction, on the Tree of Tales. Near the middle, riding on a leveler, was the metal man Glissa had seen inside Mirrodin.

“Memnarch,” she said.

Slobad jumped. “Where?”

“Right there,” replied the elf. “Riding that leveler in the middle.”

The goblin squinted. “How do you know, huh?”

Glissa shrugged. “We saw him on the interior. Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, but …”

“But what?”

“Goblins never seen Memnarch before,” replied Slobad. “You tell Slobad this tree him, Slobad believe crazy elf, huh?”

Glissa turned to the golem. “You’ve seen Memnarch, right Bosh?”

The golem nodded. “Yes, I remember the Guardian.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Is that him?” Glissa stuck her arm out, pointing to the metal man riding atop the leveler.

“It looks like him.”

Glissa punched the goblin in the arm. “See, I told you.”

“But it is not,” finished Bosh.

The elf let her jaw drop open. “What? You just said it looked like him.”

“It does. It looks as he did when he was first created,” said the golem.

“But?”

“But he does not look like that any more. At least, he did not when I saw him last.”

Glissa was frustrated. “Well, if it’s not Memnarch, then who is he?”

The goblin and the golem both shrugged.

“Not matter, huh?” said Slobad. “Metal man introduce himself soon. Slobad not want to meet him. Not here, huh?”

“Good point.” Glissa examined the open field before them. The fighting was taking place only a few yards from the opening to their cave. “Everything is focused on the Tree of Tales,” she said back over her shoulder. “If we sneak out and head back into the Tangle, we might be able to avoid them.”

“That wrong way, huh?” said the goblin. “Mephidross that way.” He pointed out over the battlefield.

Bosh’s booming voice filled the cave. “That way gets us killed.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” Glissa took a step forward.

The goblin’s tone turned sulky. “Lots of danger in the Tangle, huh?”

“There’s lots of danger everywhere.” Glissa pointed to the Tree of Tales. The trolls appeared to be in retreat, backing away from the levelers up into the Tree of Tales. Memnarch’s army followed. “This isn’t the time for argument. The battle will be over soon, and we will lose our chance.” She waved her companions forward. “Follow me.”

The elf snuck out into the light of day. Crouching, she slipped up next to the huge tree and peered around. She watched as the trolls disappeared from the battlefield. Most of the levelers followed them in, and finally, the silver man who looked like Memnarch entered the Tree.

“Now’s our chance,” she said, turning around.

“Duck!” screamed the goblin.

Glissa needed no more encouragement. Crouching, she somersaulted away. The crisp ringing sound of a metal blade hitting a metal tree vibrated through the air, and the elf came up on her feet. Before her stood a trio of levelers, one of which had just tried to take her head off of her shoulders.

Glissa brought the Sword of Kaldra around her back and over her head. Grabbing hold with both hands, she brought it down on the offending leveler. The creature’s scythe blade came clean off, clattering to the ground.

Behind her, Bosh brought his fist down on another of the creatures, smashing it flat with a musical clang, but the third leveler was nowhere to be found.

“Where’d it go?” asked Glissa. She took a step back, wary of the fact that the artifact creature in front of her was still deadly even without its scythe claw. She scanned the near distance. “There!” She pointed deeper into the Tangle.

Heading away from them, through the trees, was the third leveler-and it had Slobad firmly in its grasp.

Glissa glanced up at the iron golem. Bosh lunged forward, bringing his huge fist down on top of her.

“Bosh-” she shouted, diving away to avoid the wrecking ball aimed at her head.