Keith Baker - The Shattered Land

“I do not wish to hurt you, Lei,” Pierce’s voice was calm and somber. “This has been a confusing time, but I have always sought to protect you.”

“What do you call this?” She held up her maimed hand, with only a stump in place of her smallest finger. Hydra had bandaged the wound, but the injury still throbbed, and she was terrified to think how it might affect her work.

“That … is my fault. Harmattan used you to manipulate me. He threatened to kill you unless I agreed to help him.”

“So you did all of this for me,” Lei said.

“No. No, I did not. I was uncertain, curious to know what my life could be-what it would be, without you or Daine.” He paused. “There are things you and I will never share, Lei. I understand that, but I am a warforged, and I was made for a purpose. That purpose was to protect you.”

“Liar!” The loss of Daine, her wounded hand-Lei’s thoughts were a maze of pain and anguish, and she barely followed Pierce’s words. It was a trick. He was delaying, covering for the others who would soon emerge. She charged at Pierce, hands out, already envisioning the powers she would draw on to destroy him. She knew what he would do: dart to the side, loose a volley of arrows, try to maintain the space between them.

He didn’t.

He didn’t try to run from her, and he didn’t raise his bow. He simply stood there, even as she laid a hand on his chest. He just watched her. His face was as expressionless as always, but she had learned to read his moods in his stance and the tension in his limbs. He wasn’t going to fight.

For a moment she stood with her hand pressed against his torso. She could feel the cold metal, and in her mind she could sense the energies within-the pattern that gave life to stone and steel. A voice screamed inside of her: Destroy him! Destroy all of them! She’d thought it would be easier, but she’d thought he would fight back. Looking at his face, it was hard to hold onto the anger. Instead, she found herself thinking of the night they’d arrived in Sharn, when he’d carried her sobbing from the doorstep of Hadran’s manor, of the battle at Keldan Ridge, and of the vision she’d had the first time they fought.

She slammed her left fist against his torso. “Fight , damn you!”

“I cannot.” Pierce placed a hand over hers, pressing it against his chest. “Destroy me if you must, but I will not fight you again, nor will I allow you to come to any harm that I can prevent.”

Blinking back tears, she held up her left hand, the maimed finger plain to see.

Pierce looked away. “Do what you must, my lady. If my failure cannot be forgiven, let my punishment be swift.”

Lei clenched her wounded hand, feeling the burning pain. She gathered the energies once more. She reached out with her mind, feeling the familiar patterns of his lifeforce, the tapestry she’d mended so many times before.

For a moment they stood in silence. Then, slowly, she took her hand off his chest. “Where are the others?” she said at last.

“Destroyed or trapped below. It makes no difference. They will not trouble us again.”

Lei looked at him. “How? What defeated them? How did you escape?”

“I defeated them,” Pierce said, “though I had to wait for you to free yourself.”

Lei thought about the way Pierce had been speaking with the blue warforged, and an ember of suspicion flared up again. “I thought they were your new family.”

“I have a family,” Pierce said, “and you are a part of it.” He walked past her, and picked up his flail, replacing it in its harnesses. “Earlier, you said that you knew Harmattan. What did you mean?”

“I …” Lei paused.

She wanted to explain, but somehow it was difficult to force the words out. It had been a year since her strange dream, and she’d never mentioned it to Pierce. Somehow, when she tried to speak, her brain and her tongue just refused to act.

Pierce noticed her discomfort. “What is it? Are you in pain?”

“I …” Lei closed her eyes and collected her thoughts. “I had a vision last year, beneath Sharn. I’ve had others, since then. I … I think my parents may have created Harmattan.”

Pierce nodded slowly. “Why is that?”

“In one of my dreams … My father, he held up a piece of a warforged, a head. I remember him saying ‘This is how you defeat death.’ Harmattan keeps his face hidden, and when I saw it that once, it was battered and scorched, but it was him. I’m sure of it now. I don’t know how they did it, but my parents made him.”

“And they made me.”

She nodded, slowly.

“I have had one of these visions as well, but I do not think it was a dream. I think it was a memory.”

Lei shook her head. “No … my visions have drawn on current events, on my surroundings. They’re just dreams. They must be.” She remembered a jeweled blade poised above her eye, and she shuddered.

Pierce considered this carefully. “If not memories … what if these are visions of the present?”

“What?”

“Perhaps someone is watching us. Monitoring you from within.”

This is our daughter, not just another experiment!

The words echoed through Lei’s mind, but her mother wasn’t the only voice she heard.

All that is flesh must perish , her father said, we knew that from the start .

Harmattan hissed: You destroy failures. It is the way of your house, and I was not talking about humanity. I was talking about you .

“You said you saw Harmattan-as a severed head,” Pierce continued, “but he was built with the body of a warforged soldier. You were an adult when I saw you. Did you see Hydra in your visions?”

“No.”

“Yet in many ways, Hydra was just as strange as Harmattan. Would you have any idea how to create such a warforged?”

“No,” Lei said. “A personality spread between multiple bodies? I can’t begin to imagine it. The sensory input alone would overwhelm a normal spirit.”

“But you said you’d seen similar designs …”

Lei completed the sentence. “At Keldan Ridge.”

“You’re certain it wasn’t a Cannith forgehold?”

“At this point, I’m not certain of anything,” Lei replied, “but there were so many strange varieties of warforged there-economically, it didn’t make any sense. You don’t hand-craft warforged, and they didn’t have the house markings.”

“Can anyone else create warforged?”

“Not without the Mark of Making, no. Except …” Lei paused. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories-that the secrets of the warforged are hidden in Xen’drik, that Cannith expeditions built the first creation forges using knowledge stolen from Xen’drik. My parents came to Xen’drik, too. The sahuagin guide on the Kraken’s Wake , he said something about it … ‘She wanted to find ways to improve the warforged, but she did not want to share this knowledge with her kin.’” And she spoke of her desire for a daughter , Lei thought, but she kept the thought within. “What if … what if there was a conspiracy in House Cannith, a group that was creating new warforged for some purpose aside from selling them?”

“Did you not say that Aaren d’Cannith despised what the house was doing with his creations?”

“Yes … yes, I did,” Lei said, “but Aaren hated the idea of war. I can’t imagine him building the army we saw at the ridge. Besides, he was excoriated.”

“So were you … and your parents.”

Lei’s eyes grew wide. “You’re right. My parents. I never understood why Merrix would move against them, but what does Merrix know about them? Do you think … do you think they might still be alive?”