Dark Legion (23 page)

Red Skull

 

We followed the raven through the streets of Sagemont, which were livelier than they had been for days. The sun was out, but its warmth did not reach me. The air was still cold, the streets were pooled with water, and mud clung to my boots. I wondered how many sunny days it would take to dry the place out.

 

The bird led us to a track that entered the forest past the port, led up an incline, and followed the lake for some time. It was a beautiful walk, with rays of sun shining through the thick canopy, and glimpses of the great lake on our right. We had been walking for half an hour when Marcus disturbed the peace.

“It happened,” he said.

“What?” Neysa asked.

“We are… elsewhere,” Marcus answered. “The trees are different. And it's bloody warm!”

Neysa stopped and pulled a leaf from the closest tree. “You are right. The trees around Sagemont are predominantly redwood. I don't know these. They are large, though.”

 

We approached a steep bank when Marcus waved for us to get down. Marcus crawled forward, peered out over the edge, and then gestured for us to approach slowly. We crawled up and lay close together, looking at the landscape below. The smell of the forest blended with that of Neysa, and I was savoring the experience until I noticed what it was that had caught Marcus's attention. Below us, close to a dozen red-robed figures stood within a clearing in the forest. They had yellow string pulled tight and tied to stakes, forming a grid pattern. As I looked out at the landscape, the only man-made structure I saw was a small encampment which had a banner with the red skull icon of the Inquisition flying on a pole. We watched the Inquisitors for a few minutes.

“What are those buggers up to?” Marcus whispered.

“Dunno,” I said. “I'm going for a closer look.” When Marcus turned to object, I gave him a look that I hoped the man would interpret as “piss off,” or something to that effect. It seemed to work, as Marcus nodded, though he looked wary. I disappeared into the trees, and made my way to a lower elevation. When I found a suitably large tree, I scaled it, and once at the top, I got my bearings. From there, I leapt from tree to tree, making my way closer.

My curiosity might have seemed foolhardy, but I was a good climber and confident that I would remain unseen. I followed my road of branches until I sat ten or so meters above the red-robed men. One Inquisitor was peering through an instrument, like a modified telescope with a lot of dials, while another was recording something on a sheet of paper. The rest were conversing, and some referred to what looked like maps. I needed to get closer.

I climbed down on the far side of the tree and crept forward, keeping low. The area around me had a number of odd muddy craters, which meant that I had less cover than would have been ideal. I made my way behind a dense shrub and listened, but I heard only mumbled conversation, too far to make out their words. I rose slowly to take a look, then ducked down quickly as I saw two Inquisitors standing right beside the shrub. They were busy with a map of some kind and did not notice me.

“The Beloved will not be pleased with this… the old ways have not been in use for a very long time.”

“And you are sure, brother?”

“No, not sure. But it is the way it appears. Much study will be required.”

“There are many questions; you are right, brother. The one I most wish to know is how our brothers used the ways. Could it be that they have worshiped at the feet of the seven?”

“And bypass the Beloved? A troubling question, brother. Some questions may need to be asked of them.”

The men wandered off, gesturing at the map and discussing geometry. I stood and looked up the incline to where Marcus and Neysa lay. It took me a while to find them, and I only did so because Marcus was waving. He appeared to be gesturing to my side, but I did not get his meaning and raised my hands in confusion. Neysa joined in with her own gestures, which I understood equally well. I looked in the direction they were waving but saw only small shrubs and muddy craters. I started creeping in that direction, figuring that was probably what they meant. I was thirty or forty meters away when I heard a loud crunch beneath my boot. I froze, expecting the sound of running feet, but none came.

Looking down, I saw a clear slimy liquid mixed with yellow chunks oozing from beneath my boot. A massive egg lay crushed beneath my feet. Two more lay in the crater. But it wasn't a crater; it was a nest. My eyes locked on to the tracks in the nest. How I had missed them, I did not know. Each of its three toes were bigger than my foot. Were they so large that my brain had not processed them as tracks? I slowly backed away from the nest but stopped. I had that feeling you get when something is watching you.

I felt a moist breath on the back of my neck and slowly turned around. Standing a few steps away was the largest creature I had ever laid eyes on. Perhaps not bigger than the kronos, but much more alive. The bipedal reptile stood at easily twice my height, probably more, and that's not counting the large spines sticking from its back. Jagged teeth were visible, though its mouth was closed. The creature took a step toward me, snorting. Before I knew what I was doing, I ran beneath it and through its legs. I heard its jaws slam shut behind me, but I kept running. It was only by sheer luck that I avoided being slammed to the ground by its thick tail as the creature turned.

I ran screaming. I ran like I had never run before, like I may never run again. “Hells don't take me now,” I thought to myself. I ran through shrubs, paying no heed to the thorns cutting into my hands. I ran over tree roots, slipped on the moss covering them, but continued on. I ran through the Dark Legion, shoving at least two to the ground. I ran through yellow strings, jumped over some, got stuck in others, and cut myself free. I ran and ran, until I came to a large tree on the other side of the Inquisitors' encampment. Then I climbed, but to the casual observer, it may have appeared as though I ran up that tree as well.

I looked back and struggled for breath. It felt as though the air was burning my lungs. Down below was chaos, as the large creature tore through the Dark Legion. Several of them were now bloodied corpses; three were grouping together, wielding rapiers; and two were foolish enough to hide in a tent. The creature was having none of that. It snapped its jaws onto the fabric and yanked its head from side to side, collapsing the tent. Seven hells, that thing was big. I guessed it to be more than ten meters long and four or five meters tall, and it had very unusual forelimbs.

One of the men in the tent crawled out from beneath. The creature stomped down on him, and its jaws closed on his head, tearing it free. I turned away from the massacre.

Once more, I leapt from tree to tree and made my way to the top of the bank. My legs burned, but I kept moving. I did not want to be around when the creature finished with those below. The trees did not quite get me to the ridge, but close enough.

I pushed my way through a low-hanging branch and froze when I saw a shadow. Something smashed me in the face and caused my eyes to tear up. Next I was hit in the groin and sank to my knees before I was kicked onto my back and mounted. Punches were raining down on my chest. My vision cleared enough to see Neysa on top of me. I caught her hands in my own and held them. She was sobbing.

“Neysa?” I asked.

She continued to sob for a few seconds more, then leaned over me and kissed me on the forehead where my brand used to be. “Don't you dare do that again,” she whispered and got off. Her reaction was unexpected to say the least.

 

We were led on by the raven. Most of the way it was a single path and the bird was not necessary, but occasionally the path forked.

“I'm telling you,” Marcus said. “Next time you yammer on about how quickly I move, I will bring this incident to your attention. Gods, man, you ran fast.”

“Wouldn't you have done the same?” I asked. “Though, I don't recall you coming down there to lend a hand. What kept you?” I asked with a crooked grin.

“Oh, he tried,” Neysa said. “I had to tackle him to the ground.”

“You handled yourself pretty well,” Marcus said. He took a few steps, then turned and walked backwards. “Any idea what the old ways are?”

“None,” I said. I told them of the discussion between the Inquisitors I'd listened in on.

“I don't like it, whatever it is. That many Inquisitors in one place is bad news, but I guess this explains why they haven't been back in Sagemont.” Marcus turned again.

 

A short while later, we came around a bend and saw the mansion in a large, open area that had boulders strewn across it. While it was the same building, this was certainly a different part of the world. We approached the door and, finding it locked, looked to the raven for guidance. This was what my life had come to: looking to a bird for advice. But the bird took flight and disappeared down the path we'd arrived from, cawing loudly.

We looked at each other, and Neysa opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a loud explosion. The ground shook, and small bits of rock and dirt rained down from the sky. We hid beneath the eve of the roof until it subsided, then walked around the corner of the mansion. A huge cloud of dust was drifting with the wind. Malakai came walking out of it, coughing, his hair and beard covered in dust.

“You've been busy,” Marcus said with a stern look.

“Yes, quite,” Malakai said. “You're late. I expected you here three days ago.”

“Your bird is lacking in communication skills,” Neysa said. “What were you doing, you old bastard?” she asked, pointing at the dust cloud.

“Continuing my experiments with the metal tubes—rockets, I call them, and they continue to vex me,” Malakai said. “Come in, I need a drink.”

 

We entered the cluttered room and sat around the desk. Malakai asked about our journey, and while I was determined not to speak of it, I felt the whirlwind of power swirling about me, taking hold of me. Usually, when magic was used, it was but a trickle down my spine. With Malakai, it was different. I could not help but share the story of my run-in with the reptile and of the Dark Legion's odd investigation.

Malakai laughed a hearty laugh. “I bet that was a funny sight, seeing you run like that. But tell me, child. Were any of the men left alive?”

I tried to kill the man with looks alone, but he continued to laugh. Unless you have been manipulated in such a way, I doubt you would understand how vulnerable I felt. “I'm not sure,” I said. “We didn't go back to check. Four were alive when I left them.”

“Good. Well, I hope at least one survived,” Malakai said.

I looked at Marcus who was frowning too. “Why?”

“So they can continue my work—unwittingly, of course, but my work all the same. Tell me, child, what are your plans for extracting your prize from the emperor?”

I narrowed my eyes even more, and I stared daggers into him. I felt… violated. Taken advantage of. He knew too much, and I resolved to keep my tongue. Alas, Marcus caved and blurted it out. He told the son of a whore that we'd purchased the tavern and planned on gaining entry into the palace by winning the brewing competition. He explained that we'd run into issues with our yeast.

“I see,” Malakai said. “Playing the long game, then. I like it. You know, I have some experience in brewing myself. Not ale, mind you. Ale is the drink of peasants… no offense. No, I brew mead, the stuff of kings. But as the process of fermentation is much the same, I can assist on that front. When you leave, Neysa and I will talk further. We have some learning to do, though I believe she has been doing some homework,” Malakai said. Neysa's eyes were downcast. “I will send some of my yeast with her, along with instructions. Now, tell me more of your plan. When you get in to the palace, what then?”

“That part of the plan needs some work,” I found myself saying. “I'm thinking we can add a sedative to the barrels. When everyone is knocked out, we walk into the vault, get what we want, and leave.”

“Ah, an optimistic plan, not what I would expect from
you
, Saul. And the vault? How do you intend to get in?” Malakai asked.

“I am proficient at picking locks,” I said.

“Perhaps not enough for a vault like this,” Malakai said. “Can I offer a suggestion, should your lock-picking skills be found wanting?” I managed to keep my mouth shut, but he went on. “I happen to be in possession of a rather large volume of explosive liquid. May I modify a couple of your barrels to help open stubborn doors?”

“I like it,” Marcus chimed in, then frowned when he realized he had spoken.

“Good, good,” Malakai laughed. “I believe I have plans of the palace somewhere, too,” he said, looking around the messy room. “They are old, from long before Solas's time. He may have remodeled, but they should still be useful. I will get them to you when I find them.” Such plans would be handy, and Marcus and I shared a look. “Go now. Neysa and I have lessons to learn.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Trouble Brewing