The duelist 9, p.23
The Duelist 9, page 23
“No, just wait and see! Please!” the cleric insisted. “Just a minute longer. The power of an Asher is a fraction compared to the power of the High Priestess who laid the Curse over Eng, which in turn was a fraction of the transformation of Aventollians into the first demons.”
Curiously, the cleric didn’t specify who’d actually turned the Aventollians into the first demons. Did he not know? Or was he trying to keep his cards close to his chest? He’d said the Moon, earlier, but that was part of the mythology, and none of the celestial bodies in this world seemed especially proactive, unless you counted turning red now and then.
But even then, we now knew the Red Skies were caused by Alem. With this in mind, the most logical answer to ‘who created the first demons?’ would also be Alem. But we still didn’t know why. Could it really just be because they wanted to stay in power? The most revered people in this world were the Ashers, and there were no more Ashers on Alem than any other Island. And it still didn’t explain the involvement of the Order, or the Council.
I remembered back when I’d first come to Aventoll and Jenner had told me about the Asher Council. They’d decreed all Tithe Pools be removed from the Island of Nata, except for the Asher Lord’s, Gavlain Mec’s. Even then, I’d understood the Council was all about control. But I couldn’t figure out why they would want to share that control with Alem or the Order of Mercedes. Or possibly both.
This went deeper. And hopefully this crazy cleric could provide some answers before I killed him.
“Very well,” I said in a bored drawl. “But be quick about it. I have other things to attend to. A Duelist of… ‘my’ status has many duties. I would hate for people to grow suspicious that I’m not… taking them seriously.”
I wondered if I was maybe laying it on a little thick, but I wanted to walk the line of letting the cleric know I really was Krev Alda playing a game, without outright saying so. For one thing, if I just bluntly said ‘I am Krev Alda,’ then no one would believe me. For another, with Zoie and Horus in the room, it would make sense for Krev Alda to be careful. He wouldn’t want too many people to know he wasn’t really Alex Brightwood, and the cleric wouldn’t be suspicious.
The cleric ducked behind one of the huge bits of metal that made up part of the chair-machine-thing and began to tinker away. I heard an ominous sort of clanging that sounded like someone had thrown a bowling ball into a metal pipe, and then the cleric reappeared from behind the machine and grinned at me madly.
“I believe that should do it!” he announced, and I half-expected him to spread his arms and declare ‘behold!’ or something equally suited to an over-the-top cliché of a mad scientist.
As it was, he did spread his arms and gesture for Zoie and I to observe Horus, who was still sitting in the chair. The nervousness in his expression was a little more obvious now, and I pulled up my time-trance ability so it sat on the edge of my consciousness, ready to be activated at a moment’s notice.
If something went seriously wrong, I’d pull the falcon-man out, and we’d kill this cleric and destroy his machine now. I wasn’t going to risk my best friend for a little bit of extra information, not when we had the madman’s lab and also the entire Island of Eng. There was surely a treasure trove of forbidden information here. We just had to find it.
Very, very slowly, I began to notice a sort of faint whirring noise, and after a moment, I realized it was the sound of this enormous contraption beginning to hum to life.
“You see?” the cleric cried out and clapped his hands excitedly. “You see? It’s working! An Asher is a sufficient substitute for the Divine Component first used by the Priestess!”
The machine’s whirring grew louder and louder, and the cool air of the cavern began to heat up a little, too. Horus shifted in the seat and was looking more and more uneasy, but he didn’t appear to be in any kind of pain, and he didn’t look like he was physically unable to stand up from the seat.
Then again, I wondered what would happen-- both to the machine and to him-- if he stood up while the thing was on. Would it explode? Fry the falcon-man like a breaker switch? Would it just switch off harmlessly like when you took the batteries out of something?
I was rooting for that last option, but we had no way of knowing without consulting the cleric, and he would know something was up if I asked.
“The dregs of the existing spell can be harnessed and channeled via an Asher, because of their transformative magic abilities!” the cleric continued, still in that gleeful tone.
I had to admit, the theory behind this idea was clever, but it was also seriously fucked up. Since Aventoll didn’t have a Geneva, it obviously didn’t have a Geneva Convention, but someone should really consider implementing one or something, because experimenting on people by siphoning their natural magical abilities, or even their life force, was, again, seriously fucked up.
“You’ve made your point, now switch the damn thing off before you kill my manservant,” I said in an imperious tone. “Or, worse, send the lot of us insane.”
“Ah, but you see, that’s the best part!” the cleric told me with a gleam in his eyes. “You, as a Traveler, are immune to the machine’s effects! You must lack whatever component the spell latches onto, whatever sends regular Aventollians mad.”
I knew what that component was, because it was obvious: I lacked animal traits. But of course, to Aventollians, I just looked like a different species, because they didn’t know what Earth’s animals looked like. Not to mention, since I wasn’t even from Aventoll, my entire internal biology was probably different. My brain chemistry. Like how only young children could hear really, really high-pitched noises, I couldn’t ‘hear’ whatever ‘signal’ would send the native populations feral.
Which was good for me, but less good for all of my friends and family.
Briefly, I wondered if Rylan and Nova, since they were half-Traveler, would be immune to the madness caused by the machine. A second later, though, I knew I didn’t want to risk finding out. I didn’t want either of them anywhere near this thing. I didn’t want any of my Crew near this thing.
“I might be immune, but they aren’t,” I said and jerked my head first toward Horus, then to Zoie. Indeed, she looked a little more on edge now. Not feral, and not savage, but maybe… restless. Like she was looking for a fight. “I would prefer it if I didn’t have to kill or lock up my wife and brother-in-law. It would be a bad look for my reputation.”
“And reputations are so very important,” the cleric conceded with a chuckle. “But I assure you, we are quite safe. The machine is functioning at its lowest capacity, just for this demonstration. The more obvious effects of its persuasions can be seen in the local Engish population, since they’re already feral from the Curse. Even on the lowest setting, the machine has a profound effect on them. Look!”
He gestured over toward the mass of koala-people trapped behind the bars, and I very nearly let my composure break as I looked at them.
I’d been so concerned with how Horus was coping while sitting in the madness machine, that I hadn’t even noticed what had happened to the Eng-folk.
Before, they’d been obviously aggressive, and I was sure if they’d been able to reach me, Zoie, Horus, or the cleric, they would have attacked. But now? They were practically shrieking with incandescent rage. They scratched and clawed at the glass window while spittle frothed at the corners of their mouths, and I could smell the faint metallic tang of blood, so I knew some of them must have injured each other-- or even themselves-- in their desperation to reach us and tear us limb from limb.
I forced myself to stand my ground, to not take a step back, because whether I was playing at being Krev Alda or being Alex Brightwood, I refused to let this intimidate me. I refused to be thrown off by anything this crazy cleric tried to pull.
“So, if you were to… increase the strength of this device?” I asked in as even a voice as I could manage.
“Regular Aventollians would become like that,” the cleric answered with a shrug, and he gestured to the mass of screaming koala-people.
“And what would happen to the Eng-folk?” I then asked. “They already seem agitated. Are they likely to turn into demons?”
“I haven’t yet reached a conclusive answer to that question,” the cleric said. “As the machine can never function above minimum capacity without an Asher. This is the first real test I’ve been able to run, but I doubt they would become demons, even with a strong enough source. The transformation magic is too ancient. I am drawing primarily from the Curse, so my hypotheses are that, if the Engish were subjected to a stronger form of the lingering Curse magic, they would tear each other apart.”
“Their own people?” I asked, and I fought to keep a grimace from my face. I hoped my expression came across as vaguely intrigued and not deeply horrified.
“Or themselves.” The cleric shrugged. “Their aggression would become so all-consuming that they wouldn’t care. They would be consumed by the need to… destroy. Maul. That, or their brains would short out from being so overwhelmed. They might possibly suffer heart attacks or cardiac arrest, but as I said, I haven’t been able to conduct those tests properly.”
Consumed by the need to destroy? I needed to stop this guy. Before he literally tore Aventoll to pieces. I wasn’t going to let him do that to the remaining Eng-folk. I wasn’t going to let him do that to anyone.
“Which brings me to a small request,” the cleric then said, and I looked at him. “I wondered if I might be able to… borrow your manservant.”
“Borrow?” I asked as I narrowed my eyes.
“To test the limits of the machine,” the cleric clarified unnecessarily. “With an Asher, I can determine how much the Aventoll populations can withstand before they become completely savage, or their bodies give out.”
There was a long list of reasons why the answer to his request was going to be Absolutely Fuck No, but top of that list was the fact there was no way I was going to leave Horus in this guy’s clutches, not when he had access to a large group of feral koala-people.
I glanced over at Horus, and he looked a little uncomfortable, but otherwise no worse for wear. I still frowned, though.
“I would prefer it if you didn’t use him in your experiments,” I said in a firm voice. “He is more useful to me at my side, than sitting in your laboratory. I’ll find another Asher for you to play with.”
The cleric was clearly disappointed by this, but something shifted across his face, too quick for me to catch. I supposed he didn’t want to let his ‘master’ know just how dismayed he was to be denied, but frankly I didn’t fucking care. I wanted my friend out of that damned machine.
“I have just one more thing to show you, Asher Alda,” the cleric said. “Before I deactivate the machine.”
“Is it how you intend to move it out of here?” I asked, because I needed to know if this thing was mobile, and if this crazy bastard had a way to harness the energy of the Curse on Eng without actually being on Eng. If he did, then things just got a whole lot more dangerous. If he didn’t, this thing was at least contained. For now.
The cleric winced, which made me feel a little relieved.
“I have not yet figured out how to make this contraption portable,” he admitted. “But with a strong enough source-- perhaps multiple Ashers-- I can project the curse magic relatively large distances. It would be easier if I was working directly from the Moon’s original transformation spell, as that was set over all of Aventoll and was strong enough to turn everyday Aventollians into demons. The High Priestess’ Curse on Eng was much lesser by comparison. Much weaker.”
“So, the only area you have dominion over is an area already beset by a savagery curse.” I scowled. “I was assured you weren’t wasting my time.”
“I’m not!” the cleric said quickly. “Because this, Asher Alda, is the most useful part!”
He raised his right arm to show off a metal cuff. It was wider than a bangle, almost like a shackle, and even though I wasn’t very attuned to magic, not like Shay or Amaya were, I could feel the magic radiating off it.
Every spell had a signature, and some were easier to identify than others. This was the first time I’d been able to sense magic at once, though, because just by looking at the cuff in the cleric’s hand, I could tell the magic on the cuff was somehow opposed to, and identical to, the magic of the machine.
“This will allow the wearer to control whatever and whoever is being affected by the machine itself!” the cleric told me eagerly.
This at least explained why he was unconcerned about being turned savage, when Horus and Zoie both looked distinctly agitated.
“Very well, but what of my manservant?” I asked, and then I looked to Horus. “Get out of that thing before it drains you. I have no use for you if you collapse from exhaustion.”
“No, wait!” the cleric cried out, but it was too late. Horus had already stood from the machine.
At once, the whirring stopped. The machine died and went entirely silent. But the cavern itself wasn’t silent-- far from it. Instead of being calmed, the Engish behind the window seemed to go even madder. They wailed and snarled and pounded on the glass.
“They become more agitated if the curse magic just cuts off,” the cleric sighed. “Unfinished spells can be dangerous things.”
“But it’s not a spell,” I said. “You’re just channeling magic from an already-completed spell.”
“Yes,” the cleric admitted. “But… but…”
Something was definitely off, and with how the Eng-folk were now beginning to throw themselves at the glass of the window, I decided it was high time Horus, Zoie, and myself got the hell out of here.
“Show me the cuff,” I said to the cleric. “How do you control them? Calm them down.”
“Right, right,” the cleric muttered and fiddled with the bangle, but nothing happened. The koala-people didn’t get any less enraged, and a moment later, the cleric swore.
“What?” I snapped, and I was slightly relieved to have an excuse to let some of my nervous energy get out, even if I had to disguise it as irritation.
“It’s not working!” the cleric said. “The cuff-- they won’t obey!”
“You said the cuff allowed you to control them,” I spat. “Have you been lying to me?”
“No, of course not!” the cleric cried out. “It’s just-- magic is a complex thing, especially magic this old and this powerful. I need more time to perfect it!”
“Then why did you bring me here for a demonstration?” I demanded. “All you have shown me is that you can make already-feral Engish even more feral. This contraption isn’t portable, you require Ashers to power it. How is this of any use to me?”
Honestly, that was already plenty dangerous enough, but I figured if I went on the offensive, the cleric would be desperate to prove he and his experiments were useful and would cough up any remaining pieces of information about what he’d been working on.
Instead, he began to plead.
“I just need more time!” he said. “Asher Alda, you can trust me! I just need more--”
A horrible cracking noise cut the cleric off, and I turned to look at the thick glass window, which was the only thing separating us from the shrieking Eng-folk. A huge crack had splintered its way across the glass, like ice on the surface of a lake.
The koala-people seemed not to notice as the cracks continued to spiderweb their way over the glass, they just continued throwing themselves at it, again and again. They were distorted as the cracks multiplied, until I could hardly make out their snarling faces.
And then the window shattered.
Chapter 18
There was no moment of pause, there was no beat as the koala-people realized they had gotten free, they just descended on us like a tide of gnashing teeth and gray fur.
“Get back!” I yelled to Horus and Zoie, because ‘Krev Alda charade’ or not, I wasn’t going to let them get hurt or possibly even killed just to maintain a ruse. We’d probably gotten all the information we could get out of the crazy cleric, anyway.
Assuming it was even true, and he wasn’t just a lunatic.
Since we’d disembarked the Manta ship under the assumption we wouldn’t be seeing anyone alive, much less fighting anything, I was unarmed, so I swiped up a stray bit of metal to use as a makeshift weapon. It was sheared off at an angle on one end, and it was plenty sharp enough to skewer an enemy if I needed to.
Though if I was being honest, I didn’t want to. I knew it wasn’t the Eng-folk’s fault that they were like this. The ancient Curse laid over Eng by the High Priestess had started all this, and the cleric’s freaky machine had made them worse. But all of them had the potential to be as kind and gentle and calm as Jenner.
Maybe if I could get the cleric’s cuff, I could somehow control them into being less savage. I could encourage them to try and reclaim their minds. I had no idea if something like that would even work, it sounded a bit too much like a videogame cheat to work in real life, but it was preferable to killing them all.
Plus, when it was just me, Zoie, and Horus against something like a hundred feral Jenners, I didn’t really like our odds of victory.
“Get away from them!” I shouted to Horus, who leapt away from the chair and ran toward Zoie and I almost faster than I could blink.
Almost. The koala-people were faster.
Horus had almost reached Zoie and me when the frontmost koala-person latched onto his left foot and sank its teeth into his calf.
Horus cried out like he was more surprised than pained, and then he twisted back to look at his attacker. He kicked harshly with that foot, but the koala-person held fast, so I reached down to swipe up another discarded piece of metal and threw it to him. Horus caught it with barely a glance and stabbed down quickly into the Engish’s arm.
I winced at the horrible screeching noise the koala-person made, even as I found myself a little impressed at how it continued to grip Horus’ leg. There was red blood flowing down his ankle now, and he left a noticeable trail as he continued to try and run away from the rest of the horde while attempting to knock the one on his leg free.
