Brian Kittrell - The Immortals of Myrdwyer

Once he got within range, Laedron grabbed the support. Valyrie helped him climb up while Marac took hold of the rope leading to Brice. The veins and muscles protruded from Marac’s arms, and despite the cool environs, sweat dripped like rain. Laedron scrambled to help, and by a handful of rope at a time, they hoisted Brice to them. When Brice came into reach, Laedron pulled him onto the beam.

“What happened?” Laedron whispered.

Brice rubbed his hands together. “It was slippery. I lost my grip.”

“Lost your grip?” Marac asked.

“The beams are soaking wet.”

“Sorry,” Laedron said. “That was my fault.”

“Everyone’s safe.” Marac waved his hand. “That’s all that matters. Let’s get moving.”

* * *

Nearing the end, Laedron looked back to see Tavin stepping out onto the beam. Is he mad? Tavin was walking fast. Has he done this before? Or is he merely skilled at keeping his balance?

Marac crouched, untied his rope, and unwrapped it from the brace. “I could live the rest of my life without tying another knot.”

Laedron smiled. “You can say that again.”

Marac climbed down the vertical post using whatever handholds he could find. Valyrie went next, and Laedron followed. Once Brice joined them, Laedron took a quick look around. Fortunately, they had ended up near an exit from the chamber and out of sight of the harvesters.

Marac gasped. “Lae-”

Turning, Laedron saw one of the harvesters approaching from inside the adjoining tunnel. He grabbed Marac and shot behind a boulder; Brice and Valyrie ducked in behind him. Seeming not to notice them, the creature crawled past and entered the crystal chamber.

Laedron let out a sigh of relief, then noticed the walls around him lighting up with red light. Looking over his shoulder, he saw another harvester with a hunk of crystal in its mandibles. It glowed crimson, as if it had located its prey. “We’ve been spotted.” He glanced at the rafters. Tavin was hiding behind a beam.

Laedron drew his scepter. A quake spell. Think quickly! Laedron waved the rod in a circle before him and chanted. Valyrie, pulled her bowstring taut and searched for a target, while Brice and Marac unsheathed their swords. If I summon a tremor, will it bring the place down on us like Tavin’s spell almost did? Will it draw the rest of them upon us? Should I-

Something whizzed past his ear. He turned and saw an arrow imbedded in the side of the harvester. The force enchantment cracked the crystal and severed the limbs on its right side. It dropped the shard it had been carrying and jerked like a wounded beast, obviously unable to lift itself from the ground.

Like a wave passing through the cavern, the red glow spread and encompassed the harvesters in small groups until the entire place seemed alerted to the threat.

“Hide, hide. The others may not have seen us,” Laedron said, returning to his place behind the boulders. Hearing a crackling noise, he peeked around the rock and saw a swirling energy on the far side of the cavern. He looked for Tavin. The sorcerer was aiming his wand in that direction. Genius. A distraction. By the Creator, let it work! With his free hand, Tavin gestured at the harvester Valyrie had shot.

“What does he want us to do?” Brice asked.

Sneaking to the edge of the boulder, Laedron looked at the crystal beast still writhing on the ground, as if frustrated by its inability to stand. “We’ll have to finish it off.”

Marac slinked to Laedron’s side. “And how do we do that?”

Laedron, searching for a solution, recalled what Tavin had said about the creatures. Kareth’s creations are built from crystal and the essence of the living. Then, he thought about the battle with Andolis and how he’d nearly lost his life to the Zyvdredi master and his spell. If they’re instilled with essence to exist, it can be pulled out.

He stepped out, his scepter in hand, despite Marac and Brice hissing at him to return. He closed his eyes, recited Andolis’s spell, and pointed the rod at the harvester. When the dark violet light appeared, he produced one of the black onyx gems that had been depleted from refilling his scepter and trapped the essence within it. The red light fading from its body, the creature slumped to the ground, depleted.

Holding the gem, Laedron gazed at the other harvesters. A few were not distracted by Tavin’s display. How many souls would it take to create so many of these things? To keep them working for decades on end?

Tavin crept backward along the girder, maintaining the spell until he had reached the end. Apparently unable to find any menaces, the harvesters’ red glows eventually faded, and their bodies resumed the green coloring. Before he reached the bottom, Tavin stopped, and Laedron heard the familiar chatter of crystal against stone.

Back to work, it would seem. Wait… Laedron looked over the top of the boulder and saw a pair of harvesters inspecting the one Valyrie had slain. For a moment, he wondered if the creatures had any ability to reason because they seemed to look at each other with suspicion. As if giving up on trying to figure out what happened, the harvesters used their thick crystal mandibles to dismantle their fallen comrade. They made a neat pile out of the parts, then returned to the chamber to continue working.

Amazing. Do they have any intelligence? Could something made entirely of crystal be capable of reasoning or of original thought? Or is it more a matter of simple instructions from the master?

Tavin dropped from the rafter and, without a word, led the way into the tunnel.

I can only speculate what awaits us farther down. An army of these things? Legions of Trappers? Given decades without pause or interruption, what sort of horrors could I create for any potential intruders?

Approaching the opening at the end of the passage, Laedron detected a faint echo, which sounded like the clanking of metal. The others must have heard it, too, because they slowed and put their backs against the walls. Tavin, at the front, crouched near the entrance and peered inside the chamber past the tunnel.

Laedron crept up behind him. Two Trappers stood in metal stands. One was only partly constructed and the other nearly finished. A few harvesters walked between them and some piles of crystal, shaping the pieces, and fusing them to the Trappers’ bodies. Beyond the stands sat chunks of a shiny metal in heaping piles that Laedron thought could be silver or purified iron, and the whole place stank of stagnant water. This place is larger than the Vicariate Palace! Staring into the distance, Laedron reckoned that the cave might have been the single biggest room he had ever seen, and the smoothness of the walls indicated that it hadn’t been formed naturally.

What purpose has Kareth for making so many of these Trappers? A crystal mine, a workshop to build them in, and countless harvesters laboring, all to what end? He followed Tavin through the shadows. He could tell that the Uxidin was nervous by the sheen of sweat on the man’s face and neck, despite the coolness of the caverns. Why does the man who taught me how to defeat a Trapper seem so unsure of himself now? He could undoubtedly fell both of them with a single spell should they come to life and ambush us.

“Do you see any other passages?” Tavin whispered, stopping behind some shelves.

Laedron scanned the room. “There’s a path through the piles of metal. Perhaps there lies the way?”

“We have no choice, then. We’ll have to destroy the harvesters. You get the one on the right, and I’ll take care of the other. Do you know the prefix of silence?”