EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (235 page)

“How should I know?” Agarik barked.

She peered at him, at the irritable frown creasing his brows.

“Sorry.” He nudged a skull with the toe of his boot. Myriad fractures spun out from a ragged hole smashed into the back. No wolf had done that. “The fits of rage surprise you, don’t they? You think you’re fine, and then...”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s a concern, especially since the second group is bringing explosives.”

“I’ve never heard of a Nurian plot like this,” Agarik said.

She gazed thoughtfully at the mountains, the tundra, and the ice-coated sea. “Since I grew up around practitioners, I’m sensitive to when they’re performing their science. I haven’t felt any of the telltale signs of one at work.”

“So, this isn’t magic?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what?”

She could only shrug.

Tikaya and Agarik did not speak as they climbed the hill. Several minutes had passed since the last yell, scream, or shot that would have indicated the scouting party was still around. It was as if they had simply disappeared.

They reached the first of the buildings perched on the crown. The back two, one-story wood structures with narrow windows, were probably barracks and offices. The closest, a taller building with corrugated metal walls, lacked windows, though massive sliding doors marked entrances. Tikaya and Agarik stopped there first, heading for the leeward side, which was free of drifts, though shoveled snow piled high near a walkway. It could not have been too long since the living occupied the outpost.

Ice shattered and metal groaned as Agarik shoved a door open a few feet. Weak sunlight probed the interior, revealing an empty building with an earthen floor splotched with dark stains. The smell of engine oil wafted out.

“All the caterpillars are gone,” Agarik said. “Guess we’re stuck with dog sleds.”

“Caterpillars?” she asked.

“Steam vehicles designed to handle the ice and snow.”

“Ah. How many are there supposed to be?”

“There’s room for five or six in there.”

They crunched across the crown of the hill, sinking calf-deep into snow. Wind gusted, blowing powder off the roofs.

A three-foot long icicle sheared off an overhang and plunged into the snow a foot from Agarik’s shoulder. Tikaya jumped to the side, tangling her feet, and toppled into the snow. Agarik raised his eyebrows, and she felt sheepish.

She clambered to her feet. It was chance that the deadly icicle had dropped then, nothing more. Regardless, Agarik took a couple steps to the side before continuing along his route.

Heavy shadows lay in the alleys between the buildings, and Tikaya glanced skyward in surprise. The sun had dropped well past its zenith.

“It’s already afternoon.” Feeling silly for blurting the obvious, she added, “I didn’t realize how short days are up here.”

“I was here once near the winter solstice. Day is about an hour then.”

By the entrance to the next building, shoveled snow piled nearly to the roof. They followed a wide walkway with a couple of inches of fresh powder blanketing it. Paw prints marred the surface. Large paw prints.

A gnawed skeleton, not quite hidden by the snow, sprawled a couple feet from the door. A hammer protruded from the skull, its head caught where it had smashed a hole through the bone. Shreds of a black uniform were tangled amongst the ribs.

“I hope our scouting doesn’t require us spending the night here,” Tikaya said. “I doubt this town gets any less disturbing after dark.”

Agarik nodded at the hammer. “Scavengers might have cleaned these corpses, but it looks like humans were responsible for the deaths.”

“Of course. Killing people is what you Turgonians are good at.” She regretted the words as soon as they came out.

Agarik slid a knife free of his belt and whirled, glowering at her. “We need answers, not sarcastic comments.”

Tikaya skittered back, hands raised. He turned the knife so the afternoon sun glinted against the frosty steel. His breath steamed the air before his intense dark eyes.

“Agarik?” She shifted her weight, thinking of the razor in her rucksack. It would take a lot of rummaging to find it. She should have done that as soon as the other marines let her out of sight. “Put the knife away, please.”

His cheek twitched and the blade trembled.

“Something here is affecting you, remember? They let it affect them...” Hands still raised, she nodded toward the bones. “And now they’re dead.”

Agarik forced his fingers open, and the knife tunneled into a snow drift. “Of course. I know.” Eyes closed, he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Do you think... Are we making a mistake being here? Will whatever happened to these people happen to us?” For the first time that Turgonian fearlessness faltered.

Tikaya decided she preferred the fearlessness. “You know as much as I do, probably more.” She picked up the knife and dusted it off. “Mind if I keep this for now?”

He flinched but nodded. “Go ahead. I have my rifle and pistol.” He waved at the town. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can always leave if the situation escalates into something dangerous.”

She bit back a comment about the townspeople apparently not being able to leave to save their lives.

Agarik pushed open the door, and Tikaya peered around him. A single corridor stretched to the opposite end of the long building. The far door stood ajar, and daylight slashed inside. Shadows in the middle stirred. Two dark furry shapes turned their direction.

Wolves.

They did not exist back home, but she had seen pictures. Tall and winter lean, the creatures growled, lips rippling, saliva gleaming on fangs.

The pair charged. Agarik raised his rifle and shot one, the boom thunderous as it echoed in the hallway. The ball struck the lead wolf in the shoulder, and it yipped in pain, but it kept running. Agarik fired his pistol, striking the second canine in the eye. This one faltered and flopped over, but the other kept racing toward them.

Tikaya backed outside and Agarik, needing time to reload, almost fell out beside her.

“Stay back,” he barked.

She ignored him and lunged forward to slam the door shut. A heartbeat later, the wolf crashed against the wood. It shuddered but held.

Agarik already had his ammo pouches open. With admirable calm, he poured powder down the muzzle of the rifle, rammed a cloth-wrapped ball home, and slipped a percussion cap on the nipple. The wolf slammed against the door two more times, then claws scrabbled at wood. Tikaya gripped the knife and wished she had a bow. On a whim, she yanked the hammer out of the skull.

The clawing at the door stopped.

“I bet it’s going around,” she said.

“Stay back,” Agarik repeated. “Stand against the wall.”

Rifle loaded, he stepped away from the building, ready to fire either direction. Tikaya put her back into the corner between the door and the pile of shoveled snow.

Even expecting the wolf, she was startled by how soon it ripped around a corner. Agarik did not flinch as it hurtled toward him. He lined up the shot and fired.

The ball struck the wolf in the chest, and it missed a step, but amazingly it did not stop. A craziness lit its yellow eyes as the beast launched itself at Agarik.

He had not had time to reload the pistol, so he could only swing the rifle like a club. The wolf twisted in the air, and Agarik merely clipped it. The beast’s fangs snapped inches from his neck. The snow hindered him, and he stumbled back against the wall.

Tikaya slashed at the wolf when it landed nearby, but it sprang again too quickly, and her blade sliced air. Agarik hammered it with the butt of the rifle, but the creature seemed not to feel pain. It readied itself to spring again.

Tikaya lifted the hammer, thinking she might get lucky if she threw it, but a new thought halted her. She turned her back to the fray and scrambled up the snow pile.

“Good idea,” Agarik called. “Stay up there until...” He grunted as he swung at the wolf again. “Until I finish this.”

Retreating was not Tikaya’s idea. She crawled through the snow near the edge of the roof until she could peer down upon the skirmish. The eaves sheltered Agarik, but the wolf, needing room to run and leap, kept moving in and out of the overhang’s shadow.

“Stay against the wall, and suck in your belly,” Tikaya called.

She leaned over and grabbed an icicle as thick as her upper arm. Even with the hammer it took several cracks to free it from the edge. The wolf leaped. She timed it, then released the ice spear.

Tikaya did not expect to hit the creature on the first try, but her aim proved true. The icicle bludgeoned the top of its gray-furred head.

Agarik sidestepped, and the wolf smashed against the wall and fell, unconscious. “Throw me the knife.”

She dropped it into the snow before climbing off the roof. Apparently taking no chances, Agarik sliced the beast’s throat.

“Ma’am?” He fished in his pouches to reload his weapons.

“Yes?”

“Marines are very fit. We do
not
have bellies.”

“My apologies.”

“Thank you for your help.” He lifted his fur cap and swiped away sweat as he looked back and forth from the roof to the wolf to her. “I wasn’t expecting you to, ah, to be able to...”

“You’re welcome.” Tikaya felt insulted that he was so shocked she had done something useful. She supposed she should appreciate his protectiveness, but she found herself missing Rias and the way he had assumed her competent enough to help. She snorted. Actually, he had assumed her a little too competent, but they had both survived, so she could not fault his decisions. “Are wolves always that difficult to kill?” was all she said.

“No.”

“I suspected not.”

“Let’s see what they were after.” Agarik led the way inside.

This time, no creatures attacked when they opened the door. The second wolf lay dead where Agarik had shot it. The drab green paint covering the wood walls and the gray tiles lining the floor could not camouflage the dark blood spatters staining the hallway.

They passed doors, some closed, some open to utilitarian offices. Each contained identical military-issue desks, chairs, and bookcases. Some offices appeared untouched, as if the men had simply stepped away to make a cup of tea. In others, toppled chairs and scattered papers suggested struggles had taken place.

Agarik stepped into a messy room to investigate, and Tikaya chose a tidy one across the hall. She peeked in cabinets and drawers, not sure what she sought. The cause of this madness, but what would that look like?

She paused before returning to the hallway. She tugged her glove off and ran a finger along a bookcase by the door.

“No dust,” she murmured.

That and the mostly cleared walkways outside implied things had been normal within the last week or two.

Tikaya returned to the hallway, passed an office where Agarik poked and clanked, and stopped before a closed door. Wood shavings dusting the floor drew her eye. Above them, claw marks ravaged the door and jamb.

Dread settled in the pit of Tikaya’s stomach. “Agarik? I think we want to check this one.”

Maybe it was cowardly, but she stepped aside when he walked out, gesturing for him to turn the knob. He took in the claw marks with a grim set to his jaw, then handed her the rifle.

“Uhm?” she asked, startled.

“Just in case,” Agarik said. “It’s loaded. Just point and pull the trigger if you have to.”

“I’ve never shot a—”

“If you can make a bull’s-eye with a bow and an icicle, you can shoot a firearm.” He withdrew his pistol, turned the knob, and pushed. The door bumped against something and only opened a couple inches. Pistol leading, he leaned against the door, shoving to open it further. Furniture inside scraped, and something tipped over with a crack. He peered inside. “Cursed ancestors.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Too gruesome for a woman. Wait here.”

He disappeared into the dim room, and she waffled, torn between wanting to know what was inside and not wanting to see it. Considering they had tramped past human skeletons and a frozen dead man together, she did not want to know what qualified as too gruesome.

A few bumps drew her curiosity, and she decided to force aside her squeamishness and go in. Before she could, Agarik opened the door again.

“Sorry, ma’am, but I need you to look at something.”

“It’s fine.”

Agarik lifted a hand first. “I want you to know... I know it won’t help anything and won’t make up for...” His gaze slipped off her eyes and settled on the wall past her shoulder. “I’m sorry I was the one to find you and let them know where to get you.” The words came out in a blurted jumble, as if he had been trying to work up the gumption to voice them for some time. “This isn’t your battle. It never was, and I hope...I hope you’re able to live through it and get home. Somehow.”

“Thank you, but don’t feel guilty on my behalf, please.” Tikaya rested the rifle butt on the floor and touched his arm. “If it hadn’t been you, I’m sure it would have been someone else. I knew when I helped my people decrypt those messages that there might be consequences someday. Nothing remotely like this entered my thoughts, but...” She steeled herself. “Show me your something.”

Agarik led her into an office with a broken barricade of chairs, bookcases, cabinets, and a desk cramping the area near the door. At first, she did not see the bodies, but they were there, in the middle, around an odd black object, that appeared half box, half table with an utterly foreign set of symbols glowing red in the air above it. A pipe rose from one side, and six slender legs attached the construct to the floor. The dead were strewn about it. Blood stained everything, even the ceiling. For the first time since they arrived, she was thankful for the freezing temperatures. In her climate, the decomposition, the
smell
, would have been overpowering.

Following Agarik, Tikaya shuffled through the clutter. He obviously wanted her to examine the box, but she could not get there without stepping over bodies. Cuts and punctures desecrated them, far more than would have been needed to kill. A dagger protruded from one man’s burst eyeball. The whole macabre scene seemed too messy for the neat and efficient marines.