Cory Herndon - The Fifth Dawn

He opened his eyes and was still looking at Karn, whose face was grim.

“True reanimation is difficult, Slobad. Even I cannot return the dead to life, not in a way that recreates the original person. There are simply too many variables.”

“You just told me I’m a g-a planeswalker,” Slobad said. “What can I do? I don’t want to walk the monkeyverse or whatever! Just want my friend back, huh? I want everyone to be alive. I want it the way it was. Even if I have to go back to living in a cave by myself. There’s got to be something I can do. I’ll, I’ll give the souls back. Everyone better, huh?”

Karn was quiet for some time. When he spoke again, his voice was tinged with disappointment. “There is a way, perhaps. If you act soon. The souls of millions are in your veins, so to speak. They are still individuals entities, but soon they will merge into your larger self, the planeswalker Slobad. But what you ask … I feel for the dead as you do, goblin. Perhaps more, in a way you were all my children, even more than Memnarch. But you must realize what it will cost you.”

“My life?”

“Worse. The spark,” Karn said. “The spark blossoming within you is still new. It wants to return to where it came from. But it couldn’t find her, so it went into you and is beginning to take hold. With every passing minute, you will feel your power growing. And Slobad, to have tasted that power and then …”

“Then what?”

“Then lose it,” Karn said. “To bring Glissa and the others back, you and she must both sacrifice the spark. We have time, Slobad, maybe an hour. In that time, I could show you worlds you’ve never imagined. Galaxies the size of a thimble, pocket universes, alternate realities, worlds shaped like perfect cubes, planes as flat as a serving dish that ride on the back of giant reptiles. You will understand that there are things greater than a single world, and they will all be open to you.”

“All right, all right! So I won’t see, then no problem, huh?” Slobad said. “How do I get her back, Shinypants?”

Karn smiled. “What you do, none has done before. You remind me of someone I once admired very much, in another life.”

“Goblin?”

“No,” Karn said, “A human. My … captain. Yes, that’s the word. She, too, would never hesitate to sacrifice for her friends. I had not thought I would meet her like again for several lifetimes.”

“You have to stick around, meet Glissa, huh?” Slobad said, clapping the golem on the elbow. “I mean, we’ll still be able to see you, right?”

“If it works, I shall will myself to be seen,” Karn said. “In a way.”

“Well, now we’re talking, huh?” Slobad grinned. “So what do I do first?”

“Well, first, I’ll need to take back your arms and legs,” Karn said and reached for Slobad’s hand. The goblin leaped backward and was rather surprised to see that he stood on the air, thirty feet up. Karn looked up at the goggle-eyed goblin and laughed, a warm, gentle sound that was nothing like the raving howl of Memnarch.

“See?” Karn said. “The spark is in you. You just used it. You are still using it without thinking.”

“Get me down!”

“Get yourself down,” Karn said, and walked out onto the occultation disk toward the crackling mana core. The geodesic mesh had been vaporized. The five mighty struts that had supported it now ending in charred slag that still glowed a faint orange.

“Sure,” Slobad muttered, “then you’ll tear my arms off, huh?”

“No, that was a joke,” Karn said without turning around, “and a trick. To show you a sliver of what you can do. I know you say you don’t want the power, but no one should give up such a thing without a taste.” He raised one hand a jabbed a finger in Slobad’s direction. “Are you going to stay up there all day?”

“Um,” Slobad said, and closed his eyes. He pictured himself standing on the disk next to Karn.

He opened his eyes and was standing on the disk next to Karn. “Neat!” Slobad exclaimed. “Uh, but not mine to use, huh?”

“Oh, it is, if you choose the power instead of Glissa and the others,” Karn said. “Once you do this, there is no going back. Souls that died will finally die, and those that still lived will return to their original plane. You will remember this dimly if at all but will know for the rest of your life that you gave away something wonderful. Have you decided?”

Slobad took a deep breath then exhaled long and hard. “Yes. Tell me how to get her back.”

Deep in the heart of a metal world, an elf and a goblin wandered through a chattering swarm of tiny builder artifacts that chirped at them with friendly whistles. The larger combat constructs had fallen silent, their power sources gone dark, their clawed feet and deadly blades frozen in mid-strike. The Panopticon was completely gone. Not even the heavy support struts still stood. The mana core seemed just a little smaller than before, and no longer quite as bright. The ball of energy gave off soft warmth that filled the interior.

For the first time since she could remember, the Glissa didn’t have a care in the world. Just a wicked headache.

“How did you do it?” Glissa asked.

“Do what?” replied Slobad.

“I remember charging Memnarch, and he started to go over. I was still holding on-”

“Oh, that ,” Slobad said. “It was pretty funny, huh? Memnarch starts going over backward, you lose grip and smack head on platform. Memnarch drops into that big ball,” he added. “Then the big boom-wave hits, and after a few minutes of that Slobad blacked out. Woke up not far from here. You were there, too. Asleep. You been out for days.”

“So we won,” Glissa said. “But if I was out for days … where is everyone? Surely they would have sent someone looking for us if the attacks have stopped.”

“Slobad thought that too, huh? Went and checked it out,” the goblin said. He produced the chain of charms Bruenna had given the elf girl and placed it in her palm. “You keep that, huh? This goblin’s been in the air enough for a hundred lifetimes.”

Glissa took wrapped the chain around her forearm and buried the urge to scream. If they’d won the battle against Memnarch, only to lose the war … “What did you see? Are they-are they dead?”

“They’re not anything,” the goblin said. “They’re gone. All the nim are dead, huh? And none of the constructs work, except these little guys.” The goblin let a small Memnarch-like artifact scuttle up one arm and down the other. “Slobad has theory.”

“Really?”

“Slobad can have theories! It’s just-the soul traps. Can’t explain exactly how I know, but when Slobad was hooked to that machine, felt a-a mana backlash. And the traps are gone, too, huh? Had a few days to look.”

“‘Mana backlash’?” Glissa said, covering a smirk. “You were in that rack for too long.” She leaned down and kissed the goblin on the forehead. “And I’m glad you got your arms and legs back. You looked terrible.”

“Well, yeah, magic. Crazy stuff,” the goblin continued, waving at the exhilaratingly close mana ball that still crackled with energy overhead. “Woke up, and there they were. Never know what magic’s gonna do, huh?”

“Wait,” Glissa said, “If the soul traps are all gone, why are we-”

“Get back, vermin! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all! Back!”

“Flare,” Glissa said. She drew her sword and took off in the direction of the voice. Slobad followed with exaggerated care over the carpet of scuttlers.

“Close that-get out of-ow! I’m going to tear you apart!”

“With your teeth?” Glissa asked. Geth’s head sat next to a perfect silver sphere the size of the elf girl’s fist in a large silver chest lines with a soft purple material. The leathery gray skin that clung to Geth’s skull looked fresher somehow, the black eyes a little less withered. He didn’t even stink that badly. “Geth, why are you still here? Slobad, why’s he still here?”