Mike Wild - The Clockwork King of Orl

Kali knew now what she had to do. There was no way she could reach the key with her rope so instead she was going to have to play a game. And it was going to be exactly the same game she used to play as a girl, disturbing the regulars in the Flagons. Its aim was to get all the way around the bar using only furniture — okay, and the occasional head — and without touching the floor.

Exactly like that game. Only deadlier. So much so that every one of her movements had to be precise.

Kali took a steadying breath, and then slowly lowered and then removed her hands from the rope so that she was suspended only by the waist, then turning face downwards let her body find its own level as the rope took her weight. It was a delicate balancing act but, when stabilised, she was able to raise her arms and legs so that she hung horizontally spread-eagled, her limbs outstretched.

She gave a small kick, and turned, examining the chamber about her. There was a ledge there she could use, a ridge in the wall over there, and — whoah, difficult one — a slight rib between panels there. But then she'd be next to the key. Okay, she thought, running it through her head again — One, ledge, two, ridge, three, rib… four, key.

Oh, the hells with it, just go!

Kali swung forwards on the rope, building enough momentum to carry her over the first gap, then cut her rope cleanly with her knife. She sailed away, arcing forwards, hit the ledge and twisted, at the same time kicking herself away with her foot. Flipping forwards, somersaulting smoothly in mid-air, she felt her toes touch the ridge and lunged forwards, spinning this time slightly to her right, correcting her balance with a flap of her arms as her hip grazed the wall. There wasn't enough width in the ridge to keep that balance for long so she hopped quickly along it, only at the last second batting the wall with her hand so that she flew sideways out into the room. She let herself fall, inclining head first, then landed on the ridge with the palms of her hands, immediately cartwheeling once, twice, then three times, and coming upright at the exact point the ridge came to an end. Flexing her legs and bouncing as she returned to vertical, she leapt upwards and forwards, yelling with the exertion it took, and crossed the final gap between herself and the key. Landing on the edge of the mould on the balls of her feet, she windmilled her arms once more for balance, then stood upright, looking down at the object she sought.

Piece of pits, Kali thought. She only wished she could have done that sort of thing as a kid. It would have earned her a drink or two.

Kali bent and extracted the key from the mould — oh, ooh, ow, ow, ow — a little prematurely as it happened. She juggled it from hand to hand, her heart lurching as she almost dropped it on the third pass, then sighed with relief as it cooled. The key firmly in her grip, all she had to do now was get out of the place. She was about to start examining the walls for an escape route when a long rumbling signalled the rotation she'd suspected they were capable of. A number of doors were revealed, which then opened — a spiral stairway visible beyond them — and in each stood one of Makennon's people, aiming a crossbow directly at her. If that wasn't bad enough, framed in the last to open was Makennon herself — and beside her was Killiam Slowhand.

He didn't speak. But Makennon did.

"Miss Hooper, we meet again," she said. "Pray, tell me, what brings you here today?"

Kali smiled. "Oh, you know, out for a walk, fell down a hole…"

"And there was I thinking you'd taken up a career as a chimney sweep. You should, you know — as an occupation it's much less hazardous."

"But not as rewarding," Kali said, holding up the key.

"Give me that key, Miss Hooper."

"No." Kali looked down at the panelled floor. "Want to come get it, Anointed Lord?"

"I'd rather you just threw it to me."

"Not going to happen."

Slowhand spoke for the first time. "Hooper, just do it. The lady has you outgunned."

"Nice backwatching, Slowhand."

"They had us marked as soon as we entered the cavern. Took me as soon as you disappeared inside. I guess they wanted you to do the job for them. Give her the key, Kali."

"She's not getting the final key!" Kali shouted. She hovered on the edge of the mould, her intention clear. "It melts with me, if need be."

Makennon sighed loudly. "I gather that since our last talk you have been doing some research into the keys and what they are?"

"I've seen and heard a few things."

"And I imagine this behaviour is because you veer to the… darker interpretations of the facts to hand."

"That's right. End of the world, and all that. But hey, I'm not the one blinded by holy light."

Makennon smiled coldly. "I understand your concerns, I do. But I have seen insufficient darkness to dim that light, and perhaps the opposite is true of you. So, as I once said to Mister Slowhand — what if I could prove to you that it were otherwise?"

Kali faltered momentarily, remembering what she had seen on the map. But she dismissed the concerns quickly. This was, after all, still the Final Faith.

"Makennon, you're not getting your hands on this key."

"Hooper…" Slowhand urged again.

"Slowhand, no! This thing is dangerou — "

Kali never even saw it happen. One second Slowhand had no bow in his hand, and then he did — and an arrow knocked the key from her grip, its trajectory perfectly aligned to bounce the key to Makennon's feet. The Anointed Lord bent to pick it up.

"Thank you… Lieutenant," she said.

Kali stared at the archer. She didn't know what to say.

"Hooper, they'd have — " Slowhand began, but broke off as a sudden push from Makennon sent him sprawling into the centre of the chamber. At the same time, Makennon and her guards retreated, and the walls began to rotate back to their closed position.

The last thing Kali heard from the Anointed Lord was, "Gentlemen, we have an appointment in Orl."

The wall sealed itself with a jarring thud. And the floor beneath Slowhand sank slightly with a grating sound.

The coils in the mould began to glow.

Slowhand took a look at the charred bodies and the reddening mould. "Oh, pits," he said.

"Pits?" Kali repeated. Now that the mechanism was activated there was no reason to stay perched where she was, and she jumped down, trying to find a way to reopen the wall. There was none. "That's all you can say after betraying me?"

"They would have killed you, Hooper, you know that. I was saving your life."

"Maybe," Kali said. Now she was pulling at the panelling, trying — desperately — to find some kind of off switch. Again, none, and sweat was already breaking out thickly on her body. "Dammit!"

She stared at the mould, at the window of the observation area and back again. That done, she moved with Slowhand to the rim of the chamber, but the heat was still intense — as intense as it would need to be to make the key molten in a matter of seconds.

And seconds was all they had, because her hair had begun to smoke. Her double take on the mould and the windows had given her an idea of how to get out of there, though, even if it would take split-second timing. But first she needed to deal with Slowhand. She needed him but his breathing was becoming increasingly laboured — he was having a much harder time of it than her.

Kali dug into her toolbelt and pulled out what appeared to be a small conch. The shape of it was something that could be bitten down on in the mouth, and Kali did this, testing the thing with a couple of inhalations before handing it to Slowhand.

"Use this," she said. "It'll be easier."

Slowhand took the conch, bemused. What, she thought he'd feel better if he could listen to the sea? He looked inside, and then recoiled. There were things inside — horrible, little, pulsing, slimy things.