Mike Wild - The Clockwork King of Orl

"In future, why don't you leave it to the sidekick to do the killing?" he said. He suddenly stretched his arms out and looked surprised. "What? You thought I'd let you do this alone?"

Kali inhaled a deep, trembling breath. There was no time for thanks or celebration, however, because there was still the problem of destroying the Clockwork King. But as Kali began to contemplate the problem, it was solved for her. The cracks that had begun to appear in the throne room walls widened suddenly, and as they did the ceiling itself began to crack and subside. Suddenly a wide gash appeared in what was effectively the sea bed and, along with chunks of rock, water began to pour down on the very spot where she and Slowhand stood.

Kali and the archer staggered back, watching the deluge pour onto the Clockwork King, and as the rocks crashed onto and shattered its cogs and pistons and gears, water poured thunderously onto the crystals that had brought its army to life. There was a series of sparks and then small explosions, and, at the opposite end of the throne room, the warriors that continued to march towards the exit suddenly stopped. Just like that.

Kali and Slowhand stared at them, watching to see if they moved again. But they didn't.

"Okaaaay…" Kali said.

Slowhand suddenly pulled her to the side as a chunk of rock hurtled down and smashed into the deluge next to where they stood.

"The whole place is coming down," he said. "Time to go."

"No argument there."

"After you."

"No, no, after you."

"Hooper, just — "

"Move. I know."

They swam towards the exit, manoeuvring themselves around the frozen forms of those clockwork warriors that had ground to a halt before it, and preparing to do the same with those in the corridor itself. Their red eyes stared as dully as those of Munch now, and they seemed strangely at peace.

The sea can have them, Kali thought.

Slowhand swam through the doors before her, and she was only an arm's length behind him when a sudden surge in the water caught her from behind and sucked her away in its backwash, returning her to the heart of the collapsing and flooding chamber. And, unbelievably, she saw that the doors to the throne room were closing.

"Slowhand!" she yelled.

The archer had already noticed her absence and had turned around, attempting to swim back to her aid. But it was almost as if the water was consciously trying to keep him back, one small surge after another catching him and holding him where he was so that he did little more than tread water. He stared up at the closing doors and roared with anger and frustration.

"Hooper!"

Dammit, Kali thought. Dammit, dammit, dammit! But as much as she tried to reach the closing gap, similar surges to those that frustrated Slowhand held her back. The rumbling of the doors could be heard even over the roaring of the inrushing sea, and the last thing she saw of Slowhand was his anguished face as they closed finally with a resounding boom.

Kali splashed around. The seawater continued to rush in with a roar and she rose slowly towards the throne room ceiling. Then, suddenly, the roaring stopped and she realised she was fully underwater, the throne room completely flooded.

As rocks fell about her in slow motion, an eerie silence descended. Kali fumbled in her equipment belt and withdrew her breathing conch, jamming it in her mouth, then floated there and stared into the murk. She might have been cut off from Slowhand but she was not alone, and below her the lifeless body of Munch drifted from its seat and rose up, ascending above the still forms of his warriors. Kali let the corpse float past her face without reaction, but then another shadowy shape in the water caught her eye and she almost spat out her conch in shock.

Because the seawater that had poured in from above had brought something with it.

Kali back-pedalled in a sea of bubbles. There, hovering before her in the water, was a humanoid figure — but humanoid was as close as it came to anything human-looking she had ever seen on Twilight.

Some kind of… fishman. She'd heard reports that similar creatures had been sighted in Turnitia but she'd dismissed them as the ramblings, perhaps even the ravings, of thieves too gone on flummox to be grounded in reality. But here one was, right in front of her — and it was staring at her.

Communicating with her.

Not talking, though. The thieves she had spoken with had described the fishmen as black-eyed, green-scaled, razor-toothed and bespined, but this one was different, its scales silver, face smooth and mouth toothless, with glowing nodules that hung from either side of its jaw. But neither mouth nor jaw moved as it spoke. Instead, Kali heard its words inside her head.

And, what was even more disturbing, it knew her name.

Kali Hooper. I am pleased that your path has brought you where you should be. That you have achieved what you must.

Kali found herself responding without even knowing how. And finding herself doing so without the need to speak, she found herself asking everything in her head at once.

Where I should be? What are you? Just what the hells is going on?

The creature floated where it was, regarding her, a paper-thin tail moving lazily behind it, and Kali felt a kind of smile — a very cold one.

Questions. Questions all the time, since when you were a child. Even then we could hear you — here, beneath the sea.

What? Are you saying you've been spying on me?

Spying? No. Watching. You, and the others. The Four.

The Four?

Four known to us. Four unknown to each other. Four who will be known to all.

Oh, gods help me, you're one of those who talks in riddles. I've come across your kind before. Statues, mainly, but -

Riddles? No. Only answers not yet formed.

Listen! You're doing it again! Hey, it's been a long day — how about some simple answers to some simple questions?

The creature floated before her, saying nothing. Kali took it as an invitation to continue.

Who are you?

Our name would mean nothing. We are the Before. The After. Those who have always been and will be again.

Will you stop it!

I… we… they… apologise.

Kali scowled, then frowned. The Before? she thought. The After?

My visions? she asked. Were you responsible for them?

Yes.

How? Why?

The first, to offer a solution. The second, to drive you. The third — the third to remind you of your own mortality… and, more importantly, that everything is not as it seems. The creature paused. We know you but… we were uncertain of your resolve.

What? You thought I'd give up? Back off because what I faced was too much? Then, Mister — you are a Mister? — however much you think you know me, you don't know me at all.

From this moment, no. Your path is what it has become. It was important to us only that you were here — at Martak.

Kali trod water. Martak. The way the creature spoke of it — spoke of her — it was almost as if they both had a place in some unknown scheme of things. It suddenly occurred to her once more how un-dwarven the water network had felt.

You were here when all this began, weren't you? You helped the dwarves to build this place — to build the Clockwork King?

They were dying. They had no resources. The balance had to be maintained.

The balance?

Too many of the elven ones, too few of the dwarves. The ferocity of the Ur'Raney was unanticipated, and their numbers after their victory had to be… curtailed.

Curtailed? You're saying you did what you did to give the dwarves an advantage? By all the gods, you wanted the Ur'Raney culled, didn't you? Only it all went wrong — the warriors you helped the dwarves create turned on their own as well — and then on everyone and everything else…