Will McDermott: The Moons of Mirrodin

They must be inside the Tree of Tales, she thought. The trolls had brought her in through a secret entrance. They were fast and agile, climbed as well if not better than Viridian elves, and she’d heard they used secret entrances to abduct dissenters.

“What do you want with me?” she asked.

“To protect you,” replied the troll who had spoken before. “The convergence is coming.”

His gray head was bare except for three copper bumps, and he had no forehead. His flat head seemed to roll down into his flabby nose, which covered most of his face. Glissa had never trusted trolls, partly, she admitted, because they looked so different from the elves. You couldn’t even see their mouths under their huge noses until they opened them. How could you trust someone when you couldn’t even see their mouth?

“Protect me from what?” asked Glissa as she slowly worked a hand down to her dagger sheath. “From my dangerous memories? What convergence? Do you mean the rebuking ceremony? Are you going to force me into the rebuking ceremony just to protect your secrets?”

The trolls looked at her. Glissa couldn’t tell whether they were bored, mad, or happy. She could never read their faces.

“It won’t work,” she said. “You can’t force me to attend the ritual. I will find out the truth eventually.”

“Of that I am sure,” said a new voice.

Another troll had appeared in a doorway that had not been there a moment before. Glissa could barely see him behind the other trolls, but she sensed something different about him. His voice had an odd inflection. The others bowed slightly as soon as he spoke. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he might be smiling. It was so hard to tell with trolls.

“Who are you?” demanded Glissa, her hand almost on her dagger. She tried to get a better look at the new troll, but the bodies of the two trolls in front of her were so wide, all she could see was his face.

“Leave us,” commanded the new troll to the four abductors. “She will be safe with me.”

The trolls bowed and turned to leave, climbing back down the sloping tunnel. Glissa could see now that the tunnel was not natural. It was no spire. It had been sliced right through the metal tree. When she looked back up at the new troll, she was surprised to note that there was no metal visible on him at all! His arms, head, and legs were all bare, gray skin. He wore a long, leather cloak that billowed as he walked. When he turned to go back into the room behind him, Glissa could see there was no metal on his back, either. She also noticed he didn’t have the same humpbacked appearance as the other trolls. The leather hung straight down from his neck to the floor.

“Come,” he said over his shoulder to her. “We have much to talk about.”

“I’m not ready to talk just yet,” muttered Glissa under her breath. Now was her chance. She jumped to her feet and grabbed for the dagger, but the blade was not in its sheath. Of course. It was beside her bed. She stopped as the troll glanced back at her. Again she thought she could see a smile play across his face. She smiled back. She would just have to play along for now and watch for a chance to overpower her captor.

The elf entered the room and felt as if she were in another flare. The walls and floors were covered with animal skins, and the troll’s bed and chairs were made not of metal but of bone and hide. In fact, there was no metal in the entire room. Glissa lifted a skin away from the wall and was almost comforted to see the familiar green-tinged copper underneath. Runes were inscribed on the metal, much like the history inscribed on the trunk of the tree.

“I detest the metal of our world,” said the troll, “so I keep it as far from me as possible.”

Glissa dropped the skin back onto the wall when she heard metal scraping against metal again. She turned just in time to see the door close behind her.

“Sit, and I will answer your questions,” said the troll. He motioned to two chairs on either side of a table in the middle of the room. The only light came from a gelfruit set in an elaborate bone holder on the table. “My name is Chunth. I am the First One.”

“What is the ‘First One’?” asked Glissa. “Some kind of leader? I’ve never seen or heard of you before.” She began to pace back and forth past the door. “Why have you brought me here?”

Chunth sat down across from the door and folded his cloak around his body. “Yes. Leader. That is as good a word as any,” he said with that strange smile Glissa was beginning to dislike. “I stay in here, away from the metal. I rarely leave this room anymore. It is better for my health. As to why I had you brought here, I assure you, it is for your health as well.”

Glissa stopped pacing. “What do you mean, ‘for my health’? Metal cannot be bad for us. We are metal. Metal and flesh.”

“I said it was bad for me, not for you,” said Chunth. “Your danger comes from outside the Tangle. Please sit down. There is no way from this room.”

Glissa had pulled the hide away from the door, looking for a handle, but she couldn’t even find the door. She let the hide drop back again and turned around. “Fine,” she said, “but stop talking in riddles. Just tell me why you brought me here.”

“As you wish,” said Chunth. “We have reason to believe there will be an attempt on your life very soon, probably tonight.”

Glissa stared at him. “An … an attempt on my … By whom?”

“From outside the Tangle.”

“How can that be? There is nothing outside the Tangle but barren metal. I’ve been to the edge of the forest. I’ve seen it.”

“There is much more outside the Tangle than you know, Glissa,” said Chunth. He raised his hand. “That is not meant as a riddle but as a simple statement of fact. There is a great, dangerous world outside the Tangle, and you must believe me that someone or several someones wish you dead.”

Glissa sat down and stared hard at the inscrutable troll. “How can you know all of this if you never leave this room?” she asked.

“We are the keepers of the tales, are we not?” asked Chunth. “I have been recording the history of the Tangle since before your father’s time. While it is true that in all that time we have had little contact with the other races of Mirrodin, that does not mean they do not exist or that I do not have ways of finding out about them.”

“Then tell me, oh great holder of knowledge,” snapped Glissa, “who wants me dead?”

“That I do not know,” said Chunth. “I have been looking for that answer since the last convergence, but the information eludes me still.”

“Convergence?” asked Glissa. “What is that, and what does it have to do with me?”

“The convergence is the time of the rebuking ceremony. Every one hundred cycles, the four moons align in harmony around the world, each above its own land. During that rotation, no moon rises on the Tangle, for the Tangle has no moon. It is a day of darkness and a day of great power in the Radix. As you know, all the elves attend the ceremony in the Radix and purge their unpleasant memories.”

Glissa nodded. “What does it have to do with me?”

Chunth was silent a moment, and Glissa began to wonder if he was ever going to get to the point and whether he would ever let her from this room. Glancing around the room, she noticed something glinting in the gelfruit light. It was the pommel of a sword sticking out from under the bedcovers behind Chunth. Perhaps it was time to pace again, she thought.

The troll continued at last. “Exactly one phase of the moons before each of the last two convergences, the greatest warrior in the Tangle has been brutally killed,” he said. “We believe it will happen again. Tonight marks the beginning of the last phase before the convergence.”