Dennis McKiernan: City of Jade

“Arm hair,” blurted Pipper.

“What in the world-” began Binkton, but Pipper said, “What I mean is, sometimes when a storm is coming, the hairs on my arms stand straight up. Then there is a flash and a boom, and lightning streaks the sky.”

Binkton turned toward Pipper. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, Vex is hair all over, and-”

“I don’t think that’s it, Pip,” said Lissa.

“Oh,” said Pipper, then added, “Why don’t we wait here till the others arrive?”

Lissa turned the vixen. “I’ll tell the captain where you are.”

As Pysk and fox trotted away, Pipper and Binkton sat down on blocks of dark green jade, Pipper again looking about for. . what? He did not know.

Amid the warband and sailors, Lissa and Aylis and Aravan entered the city square. At Aravan’s side, Brekk growled, “There they are,” gesturing toward the buccen, even as Pipper stood and began trotting toward the group, while Binkton followed at a more leisurely pace.

In that very same moment, as Aravan’s stone of warding grew icily chill, Aylis looked up at the pale green central tower and gasped in alarm. “Aravan, something, a thing dark to my ‹sight›, just flashed into-”

Before she finished saying what she ‹saw›, a great blast of aethyric energy exploded out through the openings high above, and, shielding her eyes, Aylis jerked her face to the side, just as a vast cloud of darkness boiled out from the top of the tower and swooped down toward them. “Chakka shok, Chakka c-” called Brekk, even as Aylis cried, “Oh, Adon, it’s not ali-” and Aravan hefted his spear, shouting, “ ’Ware-”

And then the darkness clenched them all-all Dwarves, all sailors, Aravan, Aylis, Lissa, Vex, and, at the far edge, Pipper.

And they fell to their knees and toppled sideways and began to scream in unendurable agony.

Yet within that seethe of anguish, though engulfed in unbearable pain as he lay upon the tiles, Aravan managed to reach out and take Aylis’s hand ere the torment o’erwhelmed him.

And even as Binkton ran toward fallen Pipper, to his Warrow sight he saw dreadful roiling within the darkness, and it seemed as if a monstrous twist of blackness descended upon one of the sailors, and the man screamed and screamed and writhed as if the life were being sucked out of him, and the darkness itself grew.

Binkton reached for Pipper-“Ahh!” he yelled in pain-as his hand entered the shadow. He jerked back. Yet Pipper shrieked in anguish. And, gritting his teeth, Binkton reached into the shade again. Screaming in dire hurt, still Binkton grabbed Pipper’s ankle, and gripping tightly and bawling, he fell backward while yet hanging on. Jerking, hauling, he dragged Pipper free of the thing . And then he sat sobbing, as Humans and Dwarves and a Pysk and her fox and a Seeress and an Elf thrashed in torment beyond bearing.

And the twist of blackness within rose up from the sailor and moved to another, the one left behind unmoving. And once again it coiled about its victim and began sucking away his life essence.

Binkton grabbed Pipper and began shaking him. “Come on, Pip. Come on. It’s killing them all.”

Pipper groggily opened his eyes-“Wha-wha-?”-and then snapped awake. “What is it?”

Binkton jerked Pipper about. “Look! Oh, Adon, look!”

“Oh, oh, oh no, oh no,” cried Pipper. He got to his feet and started toward the fallen. But Binkton grabbed him and hauled him back, shouting, “We can’t go into the darkness! It’s deadly!”

“Deadly?”

“It had you, Pip. It had you. Watch, watch the thing inside.”

Pipper turned and looked and cried out, “Oh, Elwydd, what is it? Adon! Adon! It’s killing them, killing them!”

“What’ll we do, Pip? What’ll we do?”

The knot of darkness released a now-dead sailor, and it descended upon a Dwarf.

“We can’t let this go on,” shouted Pipper. “What is it? Where did it come from?”

Binkton slued about, and his Warrow vision followed a dark, twisted, ropy strand of the thing back up to the top of the central tower. “There!” he cried. “Pip, it’s from there.”

“We’ve got to get to the top,” cried Pipper. “Perhaps we can somehow stop it.”

“But how? There is no door,” shouted Binkton above the wail of a strengthening wind and the screams of agony.

Pipper whipped the pack off his back and dragged out the rope and grapnel. “It’s too high,” wailed Binkton.

“We’re going to the other tower,” shouted Pipper, “the one with the door.”

The twist inside the darkness moved from the Dwarf to another sailor and embraced the man, and again began sucking away the life. Yet at the same time, lo! Kalor, a descendent of Brega, Bekki’s son, stirred upon the tiles, and, screaming in pain, levered himself up to one knee. And he took his war hammer in hand and, yelling in agony, he swung at the knot of blackness, but the hammer passed through without effect. And the thing turned upon its assailant and took all his essence from him.

Pipper and Binkton ran to the tower with the door. Binkton tried the handle. “Locked!” he spat, and reached for the wire in his belt.

And wind howled among the streets of the City of Jade, wailing about corners and screaming over walls and sobbing through broken windows.

The thing within the void now sucked upon another Dwarf, while all about the creature its victims-to-be shrieked, all unknowing, all unthinking, all unseeing. . unable to do ought but shrill.

“Hurry, Bink. Hurry!”

“Shut up, shut up!” snarled Binkton, and he bent the tip of the wire at a different angle and probed again.

Another Dwarf died ere Binkton succeeded. But at last the lock fell to his skills, and he and Pipper, grunting and shoving, managed to wedge the stone panel open.

They found the insides completely hollow, but for a spiral stair winding upward.

“Come on,” shouted Pipper, and up they ran, turning, winding, ascending. At the very top they came to a jade trapdoor. And together and straining, with stone grating, they managed to lift it and throw it back.

They climbed onto a flat roof, a low parapet running about. They ran to the lip closest to the taller central tower; four openings could they see-the nearest fifty feet away.

“I can’t throw that far,” said Pipper.

“Give it to me,” said Binkton.

And as the wind howled, and darkness roiled in the sky, and a thing below sucked the life out from another Dwarf, Binkton whirled the grapnel at a short length of line, while Pipper held the far end, the rope coiled so as not to impede the flight.

Binkton threw.

The grapnel fell short.

Swiftly he recovered the line and hook, and whirled and threw again.

It clanked into the side of the tower and dropped.

Once again Binkton whirled and threw, and this time the hook flew through the opening.

Pipper pulled the line taut and looked about, and only a runoff slot at the far side did he see. “Oh, Adon, there’s nought to tie this end to.”

“Yes, there is,” shouted Binkton above the shriek of the wind. And he took the line and wrapped it about his waist thrice and lay down with his back to the roof and his feet against the parapet, the rope taut. He looked at Pipper and said, “I hope I can hold this.”

“Remember, Bink, your card, the one you drew for Lady Aylis, it was Strength.”

“Oh, Pip, the wind, it’s-”

“And mine was the Naif,” shouted Pipper, stepping to the parapet. “A decision to be made, and I’ve made it.”

And gauging the force of the swirling wind, Pipper stepped onto the line.

And as the rope took Pipper’s weight, Binkton grunted and gritted his teeth and held on with all his might, his legs trembling with the strain.