The Moons of Mirrodin (26 page)

Glissa crouched and watched the approaching goblins. They didn’t seem in a great hurry and weren’t brandishing any weapons. Unless they recognized Slobad, he was probably better off if she stayed hidden. She slid her sword from its sheath and readied herself.

Slobad looked up as the trio of goblins approached. His hand slipped inside the satchel. Take it easy, thought Glissa. Smile and stay calm. Just get rid of them and get back to work. We don’t have much time before someone notices the cultists are missing.

All the goblins in the chamber were busy with other tasks. One large group worked on a ruptured duct, while several smaller groups hauled metal toward the furnace or picked through similar debris piles strewn about the chamber. Glissa looked back at Slobad and saw that he had moved down the pile away from Bosh’s body to meet the approaching group. They were talking. Slobad pointed at something, and the trio scrambled over the debris in that direction. Two of them lifted a goblin body off the pile and began hauling it back down the pile. The third goblin patted Slobad on the shoulder, then followed the other two.

Slobad sauntered up the pile toward Bosh. The three goblins moved off toward the furnace, burdened by the weight of the body.
As they crossed one of the bridges, the lead goblin tripped and lost his grip on the body. The dead goblin dropped onto the path and almost bounced over the edge, pulling the second goblin with it. The clumsy goblin caught an arm, diverting the disaster, but the third goblin ran up, smacked the clumsy one in the head, and shouted at him.

Slobad, meanwhile, had gotten Bosh’s head and body put back together and was now working on the legs. As Glissa watched him attach the golem’s leg, she wondered how they were going to get out of there. Slobad had to lead the cultists through the ducts, but Bosh wouldn’t fit—a fact that had gotten the metal man in this predicament in the first place.

Glissa glanced back toward the door to the cells and saw a group of goblins heading up a ramp toward the holding area. They looked different from the ones working around the furnace, clad in long leather shirts much like the one Dwugget wore. The one in the lead had an ornate fire tube that looked more ceremonial than functional. It seemed to have several iron tubes twisted around each other and welded together, reminiscent of the look of the walls and furnace.

Something told Glissa these were the shamans. They must be coming to escort Dwugget and the cultists to their trial … or perhaps straight to their executions. Either way, Slobad and Bosh were out of time. As soon as the shamans found the empty cage, the alarm would be raised.

The elf left her hiding spot and ran down the ramp toward Slobad and Bosh, hoping nobody would see her. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to Slobad, but it looked as if their luck had run out. The goblin who had dropped the body earlier was now walking backward with his load. Glissa glanced at the trio just as the lead goblin looked up. Their eyes met.

“Flare,” muttered Glissa as the three goblins turned and started back toward the debris pile, pulling out their fire tubes as
they ran. Glissa hurried, but the pathways were narrow, and one misstep would send her flying to the rough floor, or, worse, down into a pit.

The alarm sounded just as she reached the floor of the furnace chamber. The shamans ran from the holding area, screaming and banging the iron walls with their fire tubes. The noise echoed through the cavern. All around her, goblins hammered the walls and floors in response. It was an odd alarm system, but it certainly was effective.

Glissa veered toward the goblin trio to divert attention away from Slobad for a little longer. The three goblins were too busy running to hammer the floor. They seemed intent on taking the intruder on their own. Bad decision, thought Glissa as she noticed where they were standing. She sheathed her sword and sped up as much as she dared.

The goblins did just what she hoped they would do. They stopped where they were and took up a defensive stance—right in the middle of a bridge. The leader of the group pushed the two carriers in front of him. As Glissa neared them, she dived forward into a roll. She stuck her elbows out as she moved through the front two, swiping their stubby legs out from under them. Both goblins flew off the side of the path into the darkness. Glissa barreled on past them into the leader of the group. He toppled over backward from the impact, and Glissa rolled to her feet over him. She casually kicked him over the side and watched his fire tube fade into the inky blackness.

The elf turned and ran back to the debris pile. The clanging echoed around her as she scrambled up and over the pile to hide behind it.

“I’m back,” she called to Slobad.

“I noticed,” huffed the goblin.

“How much longer?”

“A while,” said Slobad, grunting. “Stupid goblins. Tear apart
amazing machine like Bosh.… Not know what they have.… Stupid.… Take a while to fix.…”

“We don’t have much time,” Glissa reminded him. She peeked over the top of the pile to see Slobad pressing on a tool wedged into the golem’s knee joint.

“Working … as fast … as I can, huh?” grunted Slobad. “Much to fix.… Stupid goblins—”

“Less talk. More work,” interrupted Glissa. The hammering continued around them. Glissa glanced up toward the pens. The shamans were descending toward the furnace floor. “Maybe I can give you more time. They won’t notice you if they have to chase me.”

“How you get out?”

“Send Bosh for me when he’s ready,” said Glissa. “You lead Dwugget’s people back through the ducts. They’re waiting for you.”

You don’t know way out, crazy elf,” snapped Slobad. He’d finished securing one leg and was pulling the second leg into place.

“I do,” said Bosh.

Glissa stared at the golem. She wasn’t sure who surprised her more—Slobad or Bosh but both were remarkable. “Fine,” she said. “Bosh will get me out of here. You get Dwugget out. We’ll meet at the cult lair.”

Slobad shook his head. “Not safe there.”

“We’ll figure that out if we get that far,” replied Glissa.

She followed a path behind the debris pile toward the rear of the furnace, trying to get as far away from Slobad and Bosh as possible before she was spotted. Most of the workers were around the front and sides, so the way was clear. When she came to a fork in the path, she moved closer to the furnace. It would help block her from view, and she hoped it would take her where she really wanted to go.

As Glissa wound her way around the structure, she saw a lone goblin ahead of her banging on the path with his tube. He
saw her as well and immediately changed the cadence of his beat. The general alarm first raised by the shamans was slow and steady. As soon as this goblin saw her, he quickened his tempo into a steady stream of bangs. All other banging in the chamber ceased.

He’s signaling the shamans, thought Glissa. Not yet. She drew her sword and ran up to the pounding goblin. When she swung, the worker didn’t even block but kept signaling until the sword slashed through his side. The dead goblin dropped to the floor on top of his fire tube, which ignited his leather clothes and skin.

“Oh, flare,” muttered Glissa, as she jumped over the burning corpse. “They know where I am now.”

The elf continued around the furnace and saw what she was looking for—the air duct that was being repaired. Most of the workers were scouting for intruders. Several were heading her way already, while a half dozen remained behind. When they saw her, they began banging the “I found her” rhythm. Worse yet, Glissa was on the wrong path, and the closest bridge to the duct was past the workers. She didn’t have that kind of time.

She stepped off the path and screamed. The tubes in the floor were scalding hot. Now she understood the need for the paths, but goblins were converging on her. She had no other choice. She jumped as far off the path as she could, landed on her toes, and jumped again. The leather soles of her boots burned away, and pain shot up her legs. Two more jumps and she made it to the right pathway.

Two goblins headed toward her, fire tubes in hand. The flames from the tubes were long and white-hot. Glissa had never seen Slobad’s tube produce such an intense flame. The first goblin came in swinging. Glissa threw her arm out to block, and the flame burned hot against her metallic forearm. She slammed the pommel of her sword down on the goblin’s arm, shattering the bone. He dropped the fire tube. She bashed him in the face. The force of the
punch broke the goblin’s nose and knocked him off his feet into the creature behind him.

Glissa twirled, whipping her sword out in an arc. As she came back around, she grabbed the pommel with both hands and swung it hard at the stumbling goblin. The sword cut through both goblins’ necks without slowing. Glissa twirled around once more before she could stop.

The move had cost her. Glissa’s feet screamed at her. She looked down to see the tattered remains of her boots, held on by the straps alone. The sides and soles of her feet were bare. Blisters were forming from the intense heat of the furnace room floor. She had no time to heal, though. Glissa pressed on toward her goal, gritting her teeth against the pain of each step.

A few moments later, she reached the broken duct. The workers had scrambled over the metal to face her, waving fire tubes in front of them. The first one came in. Glissa sliced through the first tube jabbed at her. A great gout of flame erupted from the side of the tube, singeing her arm. The sudden eruption also jerked the tube’s goblin around. He lost his balance and fell off the path onto the hot tubes.

Glissa left him screaming and scrambling on the tubes as she stepped up to the next two goblins. They hesitated, and the elf used their indecision to her advantage. She swung her sword ahead of her to make them pull back, then rushed in low. She slammed into both goblins with her shoulder. Two fire tubes went flying back over the duct. The goblins flailed their arms, trying to regain their balance. Glissa kicked her leg out to one side as she punched the other way. Her foot slammed into the knee of one opponent just as she smacked the other goblin with the pommel of her sword. She could hear the knee pop as her punch shattered the other goblin’s jaw. Both goblins fell away onto the furnace room floor.

Glissa straightened up, but the next goblin was already on her. He swung his fire tube at her gut, burning away a line of leather
and cutting into her skin. Glissa swung the sword straight up, almost on instinct, then watched in horror as the goblin split apart in front of her. The two halves toppled off either side of the pathway. His blood spilled on the ground and boiled away.

The last two goblins looked at Glissa, dropped the tubes, and ran. The elf looked down at her gut, but the flame had cut across her ribcage and had done little more than burn away some skin. Glissa scooped up the tubes and turned them off as she walked up to the duct. The metal box came from the furnace and ran across the chamber and up the wall. A steady spray of steam issued from the other side of the duct where the goblins had been working. She climbed over the duct, pressing on the flat of her sword to keep her hands off the hot metal.

Glissa stared at the duct and tried to decide how to do the most damage. She glanced up toward the holding area and could see a few shamans still lingering there. She needed a large distraction to lure everyone toward her and give Slobad a clear path back to the holding area. When she looked back at the duct, the elf saw one of the goblins she had shoved off the path creeping toward her. She swung her sword in a flash across the top of the duct and sliced through the creature’s ribs. He fell back, but others were coming, including the rest of the shamans.

Glissa was out of time.

“This is going to hurt.”

She took the two fire tubes she had scavenged and slapped them down on top of the duct, side by side. Raising her sword over her head in both hands, she tilted her head to the side behind her arms and slashed through the tubes and into the duct.

The tubes exploded in twin balls of flame. The force of the blast went down into the duct through the gash made by Glissa’s sword. The elf was flung up and away from the duct. She landed hard on her back on the edge of a nearby bridge, and her sword clattered from her hands. Groggy and disoriented from the blast,
she stood up just as the joints to either side of the hole in the duct tore apart.

Steam erupted from the severed duct. A great gout of hot air hit Glissa in the face and knocked her backward. Her feet left the edge of the path. She threw her hands out blindly and grabbed the path. Her claws dug into the rusty metal, and her muscles flexed as she swung under the bridge. She could see nothing but blackness beneath her. For all she knew, she could be hanging over the Mother’s Womb. If she let go, she thought she might fall right down into the center of the world.

“Not today.”

She tried to claw her way back up onto the bridge, but the rusty metal flaked away under her claws. She decided to swing her legs up to get a foot onto the bridge, but before she got her feet up high enough, Glissa heard footsteps above her. She let her legs drop underneath her and slowed her breathing.

It was too late. The footsteps stopped right above her. Glissa heard metal scraping against metal and looked up to see the head priest standing above her. In one hand he had his ceremonial fire tube, Glissa’s sword in the other.

“You have damaged the Great Furnace,” said the shaman. “For that alone you should die, huh? Are you also the one who freed my prisoners?”

“What prisoners?” spat Glissa.

“I think you know. I’m sure it is no coincidence, huh? An intruder destroying the Great Furnace as prisoners are free? Two are connected.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” gasped Glissa. She tried to swing her leg up onto the bridge again, but the shaman swatted at her with the flat of the sword.

“Tell me where cultists are. I’ll let you live, huh?”

“Give me back my sword,” replied Glissa, “and
I’ll
let
you
live.”

“This sword?” shrieked the shaman, brandishing the weapon. “I found this on the bridge! It belongs to me now!”