Danie Ware - Ecko Rising

He held her, kissed her, felt her shake, watched the wonder over her shoulder. The world was burning, and he stood at its very edge.

He had dreamed this . He had no breath. It was incredible.

“What the rhez is going on?” The horsewoman was ducking as though the sky would harm her. “The world’s gone loco!”

“Not a fucking – !”

But even as Ecko called back, the firestorm was fading, the dancing lights failing. The clouds lost their angry pulse, the rain fell normally, solid and cool. Around them, grassfires steamed and hissed.

Gone.

Only the Monument, still glowing, nacreous and nicotine yellow – damn thing was radioactive. It stood in defiance of the stormy darkness, the wind and rain seeming suddenly, oddly calm.

Tarvi was shaking. Hell, he was shaking too. Ecko had no idea what he’d just witnessed but it sure as hell beat the laser shows of the South fucking Bank.

“Not a fucking clue,” he repeated. The clouds were empty, the rain just rain. His arms did not let Tarvi go.

* * *

On its belly, the broken centaur stallion was still massive, eyes crazed in the yellow light.

Its shoulders were broader than Lugan’s – it looked like some sort of fucking giant, crouched in the grass. It was pale, rain sheeting down its skin. Its hands supported its weight and it was weakening, struggling not to fall forwards.

But it still hadn’t quit.

“I’m Redlock, Faral ton Gattana,” the axeman said. One axe was back through its belt-ring, he held the other casually over his shoulder. “There was a boy rode out this way, ’prentice to a Xenotian healer. His name was Feren. He was my cousin .”

“I remember. He was weak and injured.” There was no surrender in the beast’s tone. It was dying, but it was challenging them to the last. “Expendable.”

“Injured, yes – but stronger than you realised.” Redlock’s axehead – was it actually steel ? – glinted in the rain. Both hands were long gloves of gore, his hair and garments were covered in Christ-knew-what – he was one savage motherfucking fighter. “What happened to his teacher?”

“The healer’s mine .”

Ecko slid closer. The stallion’s core temperature was dropping fast now – it was a corpse any second.

“He’s pulled your fucking guts out, dobbin, you might wanna answer the guy.”

The rain was slackening now, almost as if it realised the fighting was over. The thunder rumbled, far away towards the mountains.

Triq had gone after their horses. Tarvi to the Monument itself, her face a mask of wonder and bathed in its light.

“I’ll die before I answer you.” The beast seemed to find this funny. “One younger will be sent, the herd will live on.”

“Not if I hunt down every last fireblasted one of you.” Redlock rammed the top of the axe under the monster’s chin, shoved its head back and stared it straight in the eyes. “Mares, foals, your entire damned family. Every single one of them will die. By my hand. Unless you tell me – where the rhez you’ve come from and where the girl is.”

“And what the fuck just happened to the sky?” Ecko stood, arms crossed and casually curious. “Like whatever blew the shit outta the village we passed? What was that, fucking target practice?”

The stallion slumped bodily, mane falling over his face, pushed himself back up.

“Enough theatrics, asshole.” Ecko wasn’t buying that crap for a second. “What’s with the fucking pyrotechnics?”

Redlock forced its head back further.

“What’s the healer for? Why did you need her?”

His jaw pinned by the axe, the stallion looked down his nose at both of them.

“I am here to watch, guard – charged that all this is mine. You’ll never get down there.”

Redlock said, “You’re starting to piss me off.”

“Down where ?” Ecko came forwards, his eyes red, his skin the blacks and greys of the plainland night, the yellow highlights of the Monument. As the beast looked, his eyes flickered through their scans. “Lemme guess. Mines? Dungeons? Secret passages? Fucking dwarves ?” He grinned. “We got a healer here, too. She can keep you alive – for as long as this takes. So you cough the fuck up.”

The rain was thinner now, wafting chill across the wind. Redlock was right in the beast’s face. “What did you come from – and where’s the girl ?”

“The girl belongs to us. Maugrim needed a healer – he knows metal, not flesh. And they were dying. Without her, he was failing – and the world would rot and perish.”

“ Who were dying?” Redlock sounded confused, but Ecko spoke over him.

“Why do I know that name?” He paused to address the sky. “What’re you playing at?”

The axeman spared him a raised eyebrow. Ecko didn’t respond.

The centaur was still speaking. “The cathedral is mine. The Range Patrols –” the beast faltered, slumped, pushed itself back up “– don’t understand. Maugrim is building – passion and fire – helping. Our crafter, our sire, our creator and guide and vision and strength sent us to him. Together, they will forge such sights! The Powerflux... the elements... all awake now.” His head fell forwards, when he raised it again, his dark eyes were cracked with increasing pain. “Our sire... made us, he... The great stones, the grass, the work of Maugrim, the flower you creatures come seeking... he trusted them to me .”

“He?” Redlock said, confused. “What ‘sire’?” The stallion snorted derision, but Ecko had realised something.

“You’re nothing, you’re a fucking guard dog. Horse. You’re a minion. ”

“He...” The beast struggled, swallowed. He rallied to spit back at them, fanatical to the last. “He... made us. He... gave the grass... to me. I guard... If you stop this, the world will rot. ”

“Listen to me, you fireblasted corruption.” Triqueta was behind them, a travel sack over one shoulder. She stood over the axeman, arms folded, the stones in her cheeks catching the yellow light. “Feren told us... the girl – Amethea – said this was some great temple, some elemental stronghold, some passage grave to a forgotten hero. Is that where you were made? How do we get down there?”

The stallion said, “He must... be allowed... to finish. He told us... to guard... the future. Maugrim builds... the future...”

“You are making no fucking sense.” Ecko grabbed a handful of the thing’s mane. He was right in its face, wishing he still had his flamer. “Jesus, who programmed fanaticism, for chrissakes?”

Redlock said bleakly, “Who is this Maugrim?”

“Guessin’ he’s the boss man,” Ecko said. “This place is some kinda power-node. He must be building something fucking huge – like particle accelerator huge. You gettin’ me? Boom.”

The stallion sneered. “He told us... you’re all fools. The world stagnates round you, and you don’t care. Maugrim –” he was gasping now, his eyes losing focus “– fights.”

“Maugrim’s going to get my boot up his arse,” Redlock said. “Damn all this esoteric elemental shit – where’s the girl ?”

The stallion started to laugh, faint and cold. It dissolved into coughing, blood flecked. “He owns her, mind and body and soul. She won’t even know you.”

Tarvi was beside him, hand on his arm.

“There’s no way down,” she said. “But I found the taer.”

“Creatures born.” The stallion rallied, made a last desperate effort. His anger was gone now, even his madness. His last words were a plea. “We... were made... to be better!”