Stan Nicholls - Inferno

“We have the orc’s female,” he replied hesitantly.

“Stryke’s mate, yes. What of it?”

“If he’s as pig-headed as you say, my lady, won’t his band be after us?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Ah.” He knew better than to query her reasoning, but ventured another thought. “And the group that attacked us? Who were they?”

“They can only have been the Gateway Corps. I thought they were a myth, but it appears not.”

“Aren’t they another threat?”

“They’re meddlers. Self-appointed so-called guardians of the portals. There’ll be a reckoning for what they did today.”

Freiston had doubts about that, given that Jennesta had just had to retreat from them. But naturally he kept his opinion to himself.

“Neither orcs nor a ragbag of interfering elder races are going to stand in my way,” she went on. “There’s going to be a very different outcome the next time our paths cross.”

Stryke’s fury had subsided. Cold purpose took its place.

He set about getting things organised. As it was nearly dusk, the dwarfs’ remaining undamaged longhouses were commandeered and the surrounding area secured. A group was sent to the goblin ship the band had arrived in, to replenish its rations and to guard it. Scouting parties were dispatched to comb the island.

Having done as much as he could for the time being, Stryke sat down on the steps of one of the longhouses and fell to brooding. Everybody in the band knew better than to approach him. With one exception.

Jup came to him with a steaming bowl and a canteen. “Here.” He offered the food. Stryke barely looked at it, and said nothing. “You’ve got to eat,” the dwarf told him. “For Thirzarr. You’ll be no good famished.”

Stryke took the bowl. He stared at its contents. “What is it?”

Jup seated himself. “Lizard. The jungle’s full of ’em. That other stuff’s leaves and roots,” he added helpfully. “There’s fruit too, but I figured you need meat.”

Stryke began eating, without enthusiasm.

After a moment, Jup ventured, “About Thirzarr…” He ignored Stryke’s baleful expression and pushed on. “I’ll tell you what you told me when Spurral got taken. Your mate has a value to Jennesta. And you don’t damage something of value.”

“What value? Why should Jennesta give a damn about Thirzarr’s life?”

“Don’t know. It could be as simple as antagonising you. What’s important is that Jennesta kept Thirzarr alive; she didn’t leave her lying on the beach back there.”

“But the state she was in. Like one of the bitch’s damned undead.”

“Not quite. Jennesta threatened to make Thirzarr that way. But she didn’t do it. That’s more reason for hope, Stryke.”

“We don’t know she hasn’t. And it’s not just Thirzarr. There’s Corb and Janch. What value are they to her?”

“There’s no reason to think-”

“And Ceragan itself; what might she have done there?”

“Stryke.”

“Come to that, what if-”

“ Stryke. Could she have made Ceragan more of a shit hole than Maras-Dantia?”

Jup was gratified when that drew a thin smile. “Where do we go from here?” Stryke said.

“Not sure. We just have to believe that a way’s going to open for us. But you know we’re with you, Stryke. The whole band. Whatever it takes.”

Stryke nodded and went on eating mechanically.

They sat in silence.

Not far away, just inside the jungle’s lip, Coilla and Pepperdyne were foraging.

He stooped and ripped up a handful of purplish leaves. “Do you think these are all right?”

Coilla looked, then sniffed the bouquet. She made a face. “I wouldn’t risk it unless you want to poison everybody.”

He tossed the clump away. “This is harder than I thought. Things seem more or less the same in this world as ours, but when you take a closer look…”

“Yes, there are differences in the small stuff. But think about how big some of the differences were in those other worlds we went to. We were lucky with this one.”

“Talking of which, you started to tell me how what we call our home world isn’t really your home world, despite you being born there. What the hell was that all about?”

“It’s not the real home of any of the elder races. As we were told it, it rightly belongs to your race.”

“And?”

“You want to hear it now?”

“What else is there to do? Unless you’d prefer to-” He reached for her.

She wriggled free, laughing. “Whoa! Steady. All right. It’s complicated, and I don’t even know if it’s true, but-”

“It’s just a fairy story then.”

“The stories they tell would freeze your blood. No, we reckon what we heard’s probably true, but… who knows?”

“So spill it.” He sat, then patted the sward next to him and she sat too.

“All right.” She gathered her thoughts. “The story goes that the world we both come from was the humans’ world. All we knew was our land; what we called Maras-Dantia and your race called Centrasia. We thought Maras-Dantia belonged to all the elder races living there, and that humans came from outside much later and fucked everything up.” She saw the look he gave her. “No offence.”

He smiled. “None taken. So what was the truth?”

“There were humans in Maras-Dantia before the great influx, or at least a few. One of them was Tentarr Arngrim, who calls himself Serapheim.”

“ Before the influx? You said he set you off on this mission. How old is this man?”

“Very, I guess. But he’s a sorcerer, so…” She shrugged. “Anyway, Serapheim’s mate was a sorceress called Vermegram. Whereas he’s human, she was… I don’t know. Something else. They had three offspring, all female. One was Jennesta. Then there was Adpar, who was part nyadd.”

“What’s that?”

“A kind of water sprite. Jennesta killed her.”

“Charming.”

“The third sister’s Sanara, who must take after her father ’cos she looks human. She helped us out of a fix in Maras-Dantia.”

“What’s all this got to do with-”

“I’m getting to it. What we know about those early days-”

“What you think you know.”

“Yeah, right. Now shut up. Serapheim or Vermegram, or maybe both of ’em, found a way to move between worlds. It’s what led to the stars Serapheim made. Or discovered.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all a bit vague. But their messing around opened… sort of cracks between worlds. Holes, if you like. And elder races fell through from their worlds to Maras-Dantia.”

“Including orcs.”

“Yeah. Which set us on the road to servitude, and wound up making us the backbone of Jennesta’s army. But that’s another story. The one I’m telling you ended with Serapheim and Vermegram falling out… somehow. Some say they turned from lovers to enemies, and there was a conflict. I don’t know anything about that. Vermegram’s reckoned to be dead, though nobody’s sure how or when.”

“Hang on. You said she wasn’t human.”

Coilla nodded. “You only had to look at Jennesta and Adpar to see that.”

“How could she be anything but human if she was in Maras-Dantia before the elder races arrived?”

“Fucked if I know, Jode. I’m not an oracle.”

“What you said about your people going into servitude; how did-”

“Enough questions. Some other time, all right?”

He was taken aback by the sharpness of her reply, but shrugged and said, “Sure.”

She changed the subject and softened her tone. “It’s getting cooler.”

He slipped an arm round her. She moved closer and laid her head against his shoulder.

There were shouts from the clearing.