Scars Of Mirrodin_ The Quest For Karn Part 15

But the scream had not gone unanswered. From the far side of the room Venser heard a cry and the tromping of many feet running. He was almost too fatigued to move, but move he did. Koth and Elspeth were already at the door by the time he arrived. Koth punched the lidded doorway, to no effect.

"Stand away," Elspeth said. She drew her sword and thrust it deep into the rubbery flesh and drew downward, pulling a neat cut from top to bottom. Fluid spurted out and the cut yawned wide.

"You first," Elspeth said, stepping back for Koth.

The vulshok gazed uncertainly into the gash. Then he stepped through and his leg disappeared suddenly. The choking call was echoed behind them and Venser jumped through the gash. He felt himself carried along a tube in the dark, winding and turning and then tumbling downward, and suddenly stopping.

"Do these foes travel in this manner all the time," Elspeth said, picking herself off the ground. Cut hearts were strewn everywhere at the base of the eye, which irised closed behind them. Venser's foot slipped on one of the organs as he tried to stand.

Koth was already away from the hole. The room was as large as the last, and just as dark, but Koth was glowing all over his body. He turned. "Look at this," he said.

Venser walked over to where the vulshok was squatting. The glow emanating from the front of his body cut a rosy swath through the darkness. In the light, large chunks of rock cast severe shadows.

"Are those rocks?" Venser said.

Koth nodded. "These are rocks. I was a Planeswalker before I saw my first rock. "They are not known on Mirrodin."

"How are they here, in this deep place?" Elspeth said.

Koth shook his head.

Venser approached one of the rocks. It was really more of a boulder. It stood taller than Venser, and if he was to trust the jagged edges, then it was blasted or torn out of a mountain in some way.

"This is stanite," Venser said.

"What does that mean?" Koth said.

"It is a common rock, found on many planes."

"Very strong," Elspeth said.

"I can't think what the enemy needs this for."

Venser looked closely at the rock. "How long have you been away from Mirrodin?"

"About a season," Koth said.

"And the Phyrexians were here when you left?"

"Well, they weren't on the surface, I'll tell you that," Koth said, pus.h.i.+ng his knuckles into the palm of his hand.

Venser looked back to the rock. "That is interesting."

"Why?" Elspeth said.

"Only that these rocks have been here for years," Venser said.

"How do you know?"

Venser put out his finger and pulled it across the top of one of the boulders. His finger left a deep trail on it. "Dust," Venser said.

"I do not think the Phyrexians pulled these here," Elspeth said.

But Koth was not paying attention to the boulders anymore. His eyes were back on the portal, which remained open. "Why have they not come after us?" he said.

Venser turned. "It could be that there are many splits in the tubing, and they don't know which one we took."

"Why did we take this one?"

"I have no idea," Venser admitted. "I had hoped you would be able to tell us."

"These openings and tubes are not Mirrodin technology."

They moved between the boulders until they found a set of badly corroded stairs. The stairs went up and up, swaying and creaking as the four climbed them. Venser walked up them first as a test. If he fell or encountered anything unforeseen, he could teleport back down, or he could have counted on being able to do that before his trip with the fleshling. He abruptly wondered if he would ever teleport dependably again. But he did not encounter anything except stairs that did not stop.

Eventually he walked back down and they all started to walk up the open stairs. They climbed so high that they left the light below. Soon they could see the entire larger cavern, and then more caverns beneath them, all glowing in the pulsing light from the rivers of molten metal.

The stairs were wide, but not quite wide enough for Elspeth and the fleshling to walk abreast. Koth walked two steps below and made sure that the fleshling did not teeter backward.

Venser stayed ahead, with his blue wisps lighting the way before them. Twice they heard a tremendous roar vibrate the wall that the stairs were affixed to. The second time the walls and the steps vibrated and Venser thought for one tight second that they would all tumble. But the tremor pa.s.sed quickly, and they encountered no true opposition, save the stairs themselves.

The air was so hot that Venser's throat tightened every time he took a breath. The air had taken on a particular smoky taste. Koth on the steps below breathed deeply and exhaled loudly.

"Ore," he said. "Lots of ore."

The stairs ended abruptly at a landing. A platform of hot metal. Venser could feel the heat through his boots. A doorway with a metal door, not an eye, not a mouth, no metal-and-flesh conduit, stood at the top of the landing. It was clad and s.h.i.+ning. Venser tugged one of his mana tethers and felt the cool tingle as the power emptied into his cranium. He sniffed and whispered his spell of wrought, but the door remained solid and unmoving. Cursing under his breath Venser spoke other words, and even traced a sigil that sat glowing on the door. Then he seized the air in front of the door and twisted. The sweat popped out on his forehead as he turned the air. He clenched his teeth and kept turning. Eventually he was able to reach into the metal of the door and scooped the lock out. The door swung open.

The cavern on the other side of the door was filled with a red glow. It was a large room, Venser could tell-he could see no walls. He stepped into the room, followed by the others.

A movement drew his eye too late, and a huge Phyrexian moved into his field of view from the right. It was large and skeletal in appearance, and glowing. What looked like bone, however, proved to be glowing metal, and its thin arms trailed behind it as it stumbled along. The heat emanating from it made Venser's cheek tingle. The Phyrexian stopped and turned to them, examining them with its small head. Venser fell back and readied himself. But the Phyrexian turned away and continued walking. Soon it was gone, lost to the glow and fire.

Venser turned to look at the others.

"What was that?" Koth said.

And then Venser remembered that Tezzeret had mentioned that the Phyrexians in the furnace layer were different.

"The Phyrexians here are different," Venser said. "The metal-armed one told me that."

Koth shook his head, watching the form of the glowing skeleton move away.

"What is happening here in this place?" Elspeth said.

"I think those are forges," Koth said, not able to keep the amazement out of his voice. The vista showed ma.s.sive buildinglike structures dotting the cavern. The buildings contained the cherry glow of ore, and there were rivers of ore connecting one building to the next. Each building had a veinlike tube attached to its top. Each tube extended upward into darkness.

Forms moved back and forth between the buildings, carrying globs of molten metal. Some of them were large, insectlike forms, picking their way over the rough, slag-littered ground with precise legs. But huge creatures with two legs and arms moved among the buildings as well. They dragged the motionless forms of other Phyrexians behind them toward the ore pools.

"Where is our destination in this place?" Elspeth said.

"I do not know," Venser said. The terrain was dotted with piles of slag. The glow of molten metal lit the distance, and insectlike Phyrexians moved in silhouette in front of it.

They started to walk. The way was more difficult than the steps, if that was possible. There were no trails, as the Phyrexians seemed to be large enough to mince between the slag piles and ca.n.a.ls of ore. But twice Venser almost fell, tripping on hardened slag obscured on the shadowy ground.

Slowly they made their way to one of the buildings. As they got closer, it was clear to them all that it was no ordinary building...more of a Phyrexian on its stomach with a large open maw of teeth. One of the vein ca.n.a.ls attached to its head. The bright white glow of molten metal shone from its mouth.

"The ore is coming in through that cord attached to its head," Koth said, shaking his head.

And it was. They could see the molten ore through breaks in the tube.

"But what is it doing?" Venser yelled above the blowing of the Phyrexian furnace.

"It is melting down Phyrexians for reuse."

The voice that had spoken was deep. They turned to see an elephantine humanoid standing on its rear legs, with an immense club slung casually over its shoulder. As they watched, six more forms appeared out of the flickering shadow: three humans, an elf, and a lionlike being walking on two legs. Each was armed, but none had their weapons up and at the ready.

"This is where the metal of the beasts are melted," the elephantine said. "It is a shameful place, but not a dangerous one."

"Have you ever watched sausage being made?" one of the humans offered.

n.o.body said anything, and the elephantine humanoid glanced back at the human who had spoken.

"Well, it's not something you forget seeing," the human said. "It's disgusting. Like this."

They eat sausage on Mirrodin? Venser thought. He turned to look at his group. Koth was eyeing the strangers warily. Venser turned back. The humans were vulshok, he could tell by their spiky, metal hair. Why isn't Koth greeting them? Venser wondered.

"Where does your way take you?" the elephantine said.

"That is our own business," Koth said.

The elephantine one squinted to see Koth, who stood back a bit. "Ah, yes, a vulshok," he said.

"Loxodon," Koth said. "Why are you here?"

"We are looking for friends to resist what is happening on the surface," the loxodon said, scratching its trunk with its club. "Are you friends?"

"We are not enemies," Elspeth said. "And this one I have is wounded. She needs to lie down."

"Our a.s.signment is to bring friends," the loxodon repeated.

"I am Venser and this is Lady Elspeth and Koth," Venser said. The loxodon's eyes stayed on the fleshling for a moment before looking back at Venser. "We are friends."

"Maalan they call me," the loxodon said, curling his trunk. "Follow me, friend."

They walked between the Phyrexians that were attached to the ground, receiving the molten ore of reprocessed Phyrexians. The heat was overwhelming. Soon they were all drenched in sweat. Venser's head was pounding.

"Do you have water?" Venser asked the loxodon.

"Yes," Maalan said. "For friends."

"We already said we were friends," Koth said.

The loxodon took a canteen from a lanyard over his shoulder. Venser, Elspeth, and Koth took turns with it. Koth gulped more of the iron tasting water than the others, Venser noticed.

Maalan led them between the ore reprocessors. Many times large, wasplike creatures larger than themselves stopped to regard them. The creatures seemed to move ore from one processor to the other with willowy scoops sprouting from their thoraxes. The wasp Phyrexians seemed to look through the group. At one point the loxodon shooed a group that was blocking their path.

"Why don't they attack?" Koth said.

The loxodon regarded him coolly. "As near as we can tell, they do not regard us as a threat, son of Kamath."

Koth shrugged. "Every other Phyrexian does."

"That is true," Maalan said, and walked ahead.

The room seemed larger than any they had been in yet. It went on and on. All along what must have been the edge, Venser could see more of the wasp Phyrexians and other, stranger forms moving. The ore streamed down along the veins into the tops of the reprocessors.

"Where are the new Phyrexians created from this ore?" Venser said.

"That does not happen here," the loxodon said. "And not in that way."

"How does it happen?"

"I do not know that, friend. If I knew that I would tell you, I promise you that."

Venser watched Maalan walk next to him. What he really wanted to know was how the loxodon knew Koth's father's name. He wanted to know why Koth said nothing when the loxodon addressed him with his father's name.

Venser fell back from the group. When the others were some steps ahead, he put his hand under his armor and took out his vial. He held it up to the glow. His heart jumped into his throat when he saw how little was left. Less than a finger in height of the precious fluid glowed in the bottom of the bottle. He carefully removed the cork and took a tiny sip, feeling the energy impart itself into the contours of his mouth and make its way to his brain-causing it to glow, or so he always thought.

He looked at how much of the fluid remained before putting it back into the special pocket he had st.i.tched in the cloth under his armor. There were other times he'd drained a bottle. But that was before he had depended on the distillation so much. And those times were bad. If he ran out down there, in that place, there would be great problems for him. And after his teleport with the fleshling, even his potion did not put his head right. He knew the day would come, but he had doubted it would be so soon. The teleport into the flock of blinkmoths must have exacerbated something. It had made him worse, just as it seems to have affected the fleshling in another way altogether.

He had run out of his potion other times. Once he had been unable to leave his bed for two days. Another time had found him at the mercy of psimortifiers, in their "exploration chambers." He had prevailed in each circ.u.mstance, but only through luck.

And all for what? Venser thought as he patted the bottle where it lay under his armor. For a fluid that really did nothing for him? It actually did less than nothing even before the teleport. It gave him a mana boost at first, and then depleted him later. Venser suspected that it depleted him more than it boosted. The boost was slight, and did not last for very long. But it felt like a large boost. It felt good.

He remembered the day he had started to need the potion on a daily basis. He and another artificer had traveled far afield in Dominaria looking for Phyrexian artifacts. There were still many battlefields where the forces of the scourge and Dominaria had clashed, but Venser had long since learned that such battlefields did not yield what he searched for.

Sure, one could find fragments and severed parts, but what Venser looked for was fully intact Phyrexians or the s.h.i.+ps and vehicles they traveled in. He'd even found largely intact pieces once or twice, but he'd never seen anything like what he saw that fateful day.

He had been deep in the most remote wastes on a multi-day expedition. On the last day, the younger artificer he'd been traveling with had found a strange pile of black stones. At least they had felt like stones. They were hard and of the deepest color. Afus, the junior artificer, had found them piled perfectly into the shape of a tiny pyramid.

Against his better judgment, Venser had taken them, taken them all. He had known it was not wise to come into contact with objects of power that were unidentified. And they were powerful. Venser had felt the mana seething in them. They were worth coin anyhow. That was how he had rationalized taking them. They were worth gold.

And then he had made the worst mistake of all. He had teleported with them. Afus was traveling overland, but that was not how Venser chose to travel. He had learned early after developing his ability to teleport that it was not wise to travel with anything powerful that you did not want to become in some way enmeshed with. Inevitably whatever you traveled with ended up part of you after the mana put you and it back together. The black stones immediately affected him, causing the palsy. It was incurable and fatal. Afus, even though he had never teleported with the stones, had died shortly after finding them. His body had lain for a day in his studio before Venser had gotten up the courage to open him up and take a look inside. What he'd found still haunted his deepest nightmares: The young artificer's organs and lungs had become shriveled and transparent, as if they were ceasing to be.

Venser had no doubt that his organs would end up looking the same way. He just had not thought it would begin while he was on Mirrodin. The blinkmoths had somehow accelerated the effect.