Mike Wild - The Clockwork King of Orl

Old Race blood, but not Old Race, Kali decided, ignoring his question for a moment. The thought that had struck her before her fall — that some of the builders might still be alive — had never really been likely — next to impossible, actually — and now that she'd had chance to see these people close to, it only confirmed the fact. But though their origin was far more prosaic, who these people were came as only slightly less of a surprise than the alternative. Six of them in all, their garb, speech and, most of all, the crossed-circle talismans they wore pinned to their sleeves, left no doubt as to their identity. This bunch were Final Faith, members of the most pervasive, most consuming and most intolerant religion to blight the peninsula, zealots to every woman and every man.

They were not her favourite people.

That, however, was immaterial right now.

What was material was the obvious question. What the hells were the Final Faith doing in the Spiral of Kos?

The key. It seemed to be the only thing in the place so it had to be the key.

Well, if that was the case… Sorry, but she'd got here first.

"I asked you a question, girl," the apparent leader reminded her. His tone had already hardened somewhat.

Girl? Kali thought, and stared at him. "Oh, you know," she said innocently, "went for walk in the woods, got lost, fell down a sodding great hole…"

The man nodded then abruptly tugged her toolbelt from her waist, tipping out the contents of some of its pockets. Kali shrugged as he picked through a selection of pitons, hammers, clamps and other excavation gear, regarding her questioningly when he also came upon some marbles, a sock and a mouldy, half-eaten pie. Okay, so maybe she should have a clearout once in a while.

"Impressive tools for a walk in the woods," Mister Nosey nevertheless concluded. He glanced over at the broken, shard-covered bodies of the stickthings, which coincidentally she seemed to have landed on or nearby. "You managed to survive three brackan, too. Equally impressive."

Brackan, eh? Kali thought. Have to remember that. "Yeah, well, I — "

"You are intruding here!"

The statement came so suddenly and so forcefully that it threw her off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"Intruding. This… reliquary is under the jurisdiction of the Final Faith."

"Oh, really?" Kali said, bristling. "And since when did your little glee-club extend to the Sardenne?"

The man smiled coldly. "Since my arrival here."

Kali stared. She was only just getting over the shock that she had survived that fall — and its cause — let alone finding she had company, but one thing was already abundantly clear to her — this man was serious. And despite his superficial civility, he was dangerous. She could feel it exuding from his every pore.

The fact didn't stop her speaking up, though. That was her trouble, people kept telling her, though it never did any good.

"Well, then — you're a little off the beaten path, aren't you, priest?"

The man's hand — leather-gloved — shot out without warning and clenched itself about her neck. Kali gasped and fumbled to release its grip, but it was strong. Very strong.

The man stood, and, her throat constricting, she actually found herself being lifted from the floor.

"My name," he told her, "is Konstantin Munch, and despite your disdain I am not one of the Enlightened Ones." He used the phrase that described the Final Faith's priesthood with a degree of disdain of his own, which she found peculiar. "I am, however, an agent of that church, acting on its behalf and that of the Anointed Lord, and so I ask you again — what are you doing here?"

"Actually, I… bought the place," Kali rasped, choking. She hung a hand vaguely in the direction of the Spiral and its dead plants, twitched it. "Thought I'd open a herbalist's emporium but… was never very… green-fingered."

Munch's hand tightened, the leather squeaking. "Ah, I see."

"And you?" Kali ventured. "Mind… telling me what… you're… kaa-hurr… doing here?"

"Actually, yes. Why don't we just say that my friends and I were led here by the Lord of All."

No surprise, there, Kali thought. These people did everything in his — god's, her? Its? — name, including all the sacking, raping and pillaging, by some accounts. But Lord of All or not, something had led Munch and his mates to the Spiral's front door, when even her map hadn't been specific about its location. And though she found it difficult to believe, she thought she knew what.

She flicked a pained gaze — already flaring and soon to blink out, if she wasn't careful — to the side, examining Munch's companions again. Sure enough, the clenched fists of one of them still pulsated ever so slightly with the aftermath of energy release — the same release, presumably, that had lit up the floor of the chamber earlier. She couldn't see much of his face beneath its hood, only that it seemed harsh, thin and sallow, but there was an overly intense penetration about the shadowed eyes that Kali had seen once before, and cared not to remember. They were the eyes of someone who would normally be denounced by the Final Faith. Eyes that stared out not only at this world but beyond, into another layer of being. Eyes that saw the threads of the universe, used them and followed them. The eyes of a -

"Shadowmage?" Munch said, sensing her recognition and puzzlement. He smiled, bobbing her dangling and struggling form almost playfully towards the mage in question. "The young lady wonders not only why we are here but why one such as I is in league with one such as you, Kallow," he said. "Are you offended?" Turning his attention back to Kali, he added, "Unusual, I grant you, but let's just say the Anointed Lord allows me some… latitude in my choice of companions, depending on the task she has set for me."

"Tashk?" Kali enquired, the one word all she could manage now. She could feel her eyes bulging painfully and her tongue thick between her lips.

Munch shrugged modestly, making her bob again. "Certain errands of import — troubleshooting, damage-control, the elimination of various problems." He smiled as he stressed the word before tossing Kali to the floor, where she scrambled back. "Whatever it is, in fact, the Anointed Lord wishes me do."

Kali hacked rawly, rubbing her throat, trying to ignore the pounding in her skull as blood rushed back into her brain. The man had almost killed her just then, and she had little doubt that was his ultimate intent, especially as he had just brushed back his cloak to reveal a particularly vicious-looking gutting knife.

"Last chance, girl, as I have no time for inconveniences. What is it that you are doing here?"

Kali thought fast. After that little ordeal, she was still too dizzy to run and too weak to defend herself, and so the only possible way out of this was to bluff. The question was, with what? It would have helped if Munch had given her a clue as to why he and his people were here, because without that juicy tidbit it would be so easy to say the wrong thing.

But then it struck her. Why was Munch so interested in what she was doing here? Surely that was obvious? Given that he hadn't just stumbled across the place, could it be that he'd come to the Spiral for the key without knowing what he'd find when he arrived? That he thought she knew something about the Spiral that might help? If that was the case, maybe he didn't know everything about the key itself.

It was something she could work with. A gamble, but worth the ante. If nothing else, it would buy her time.

"All right, all right!" she coughed. "The truth is, I came here for the… romfiffelypop."

Munch's eyes narrowed. "The romfiffelypop?"

Kali looked at him in a way that suggested everyone knew what the romfiffelypop was, then pointed towards the Spiral. "The key, dammit! I've been searching for it for years."