Edge of Destiny (guild wars) Page 7

  "Out there is where the Dragonspawn is," Zojja said grimly.

  "Not much longer," Snaff assured.

  As the group marched down the lane, walls shuddered, thatch shivered, and norn came running out in all states of undress, bellowing and bearing weapons.

  "What's happening?"

  "Earthquake?"

  "Invasion?"

  "For the love of Wolf-!"

  "We're being attacked!"

  "Stop!" shouted Eir, lifting her hands to the crowd. "You are not being attacked. These magnificent creatures are fashioned to battle the Dragonspawn."

  A susurrus of shock moved through the crowd, and someone shouted, "Golems can't do the work of norn warriors!"

  "I am a norn warrior," Eir said, "and I am doing this work. But let me ask you this-what becomes of norn who go to battle the Dragonspawn?"

  The crowd sighed in frustration, and a nearby woman said, "The men return… as frozen icebrood. The women return… not at all."

  "Exactly. But we are warded by powerstone magic that will block his aura." She tapped the gray stones that shone from the epaulets of her armor. "And these warriors of steel and stone cannot be corrupted by the Dragonspawn's power. With these provisions, Garm and I and our metal allies will reach the inner sanctum of the Dragonspawn.

  "And we will tear him apart."

  DEEP PLACES

  As Rytlock dived into the crevice, he thought, Why am I following a pollen-brained sylvari?

  A hyena nipped his heel.

  Oh, yeah, that's why.

  Then there was no more time for thinking. Only plunging. And cursing.

  Rytlock dropped through the narrow cleft and into a cavern. Below him, Logan and Caithe were tumbling into the darkness.

  "Great idea!" Rytlock shouted. "Really flipping great!"

  "I heard you the first time!" Caithe yelled.

  Just then, there came a huge splash, and then a second, and then…

  Ow! The water was hard. Rytlock smashed through the surface, and the flood closed over him. Bubbles chattered everywhere, but there wasn't a gulp to breathe! He lashed his claws through the water-kicked and flailed (wasn't this how humans swam?) but only sank.

  Then the water above exploded again. Something else had just plunged into it, something that was now swimming toward the surface. Rytlock grabbed on to the thing and let it lift him. He reached the air and gasped.

  The thing yipped and giggled. A hyena.

  "A hyena," Rytlock snarled. "Who knew they floated?"

  "Rytlock!" Logan shouted.

  "Yeah?"

  "There's hyenas in the water!" Logan warned. "Just killed one."

  "Got one of my own."

  "Snap its neck!"

  "Do they float when they're dead?"

  There was silence. "How would I know?"

  "You just killed one. Did it float?"

  "I didn't hold on to it!"

  Just then, a thud and a splash told of another hyena's arrival. In moments, it, too, was gasping at the surface. When it heard the struggles of its packmate, it swam toward Rytlock.

  "Ah, good," Rytlock said. "This one was getting tired… Hello."

  The scavenger lunged for Rytlock, but he bashed it back, grasped it around the midsection, and hauled it beside him. The hyenas paddled desperately while Rytlock leaned back. "I've got two hyenas now."

  "Snap their necks!"

  "Do they float?"

  "You're ridiculous!"

  "You're both ridiculous," interrupted the sylvari.

  "You survived?" Rytlock yelled. "Damn."

  "I just saved you from the ogres!" she shouted back indignantly.

  "You just dropped us into a cesspool a hundred feet below the ground."

  "It's not a cesspool. It's an underground river," Caithe responded. "Can't you feel the current?"

  Rytlock squeezed the hyenas into submission. "Yeah."

  "That's why I led us down here," Caithe said. "I can feel the ways of water and wind, the ways of nature. I'll get us out of here. Follow my voice."

  "I'd have to listen to it."

  Logan stroked toward her and shot back over his shoulder, "How're the hyenas holding out?"

  The truth was, they seemed to be weakening. Rytlock whispered, "Follow the sylvari. She's young and tasty."

  Whether or not the scavengers understood, they did paddle generally in Caithe's direction, carrying the charr with them. The chant of the river changed, echoes coming more quickly ahead, and then there was water-smoothed stone underfoot.

  Rytlock strode up it, feeling the waters recede. "Finally," he said, dropping the hyenas into the water and kicking them sharply in the backsides. "Get off with you!" Yipping, they swam away.

  "There's a cave mouth up here," Caithe called from ahead. "A slight breeze is pouring into the cave, so there must be an opening on the other side."

  "I'm following," Logan said, feeling his way forward through the darkness. "Keep talking, Caithe."

  "Yeah. Keep talking." Rytlock was in torment. Not the Realm of Torment, with its fire and severity. That place would've been homey. No, this was a uniquely charr torment-with churning water and buoyant hyenas and a pesky human and a starry-eyed sylvari leading a parade of fools.

  They stumbled through the passage that Caithe had found, trading the terrors of an underground river for the annoyance of stalactites hitting their faces and stalagmites jamming their toes. And the cave wasn't entirely dry. Something scuttled on the ground and squashed wetly underfoot with each step.

  Ahead, Caithe staggered to a stop. "Oh. Well, that's something…"

  The man and the charr came up behind her. "Whoa."

  They stood at the edge of a gigantic cavern, dimly lit by fading blue stones embedded along the walls. The light of the stones revealed a ruined underground city. Cobbled streets ran between rock-walled buildings, and a crumbling palace stood on a prominence on the far side. Many buildings were missing their roofs, and many windows were marked with soot where fires had burned. Cracked columns shored up the ceiling high above.

  An eerie wind meandered past, like the brush of a ghost.

  "What is this place?" Rytlock asked.

  "It looks dwarven," Logan said. "Who else would have a whole city that nobody knew about?"

  "But what happened to them?"

  "Destroyers," Caithe broke in. "Creatures of living lava-the minions of the dragon Primordus. I've seen other villages destroyed this way."

  "Well, when you live in a hole in the ground, you've got to expect to run into things like that," Rytlock said. "The question is whether they're still here." He stepped past the other two and marched down toward the city.

  "We're following her, not you," Logan called.

  "When I can see, I follow no one." Rytlock paused, looking down at his foot and seeing the remains of albino frogs crushed between his claws. "I'm finding my own way out of here."

  As Rytlock marched away into the gloomy ruins, Logan shook his head. "Good riddance."

  "We shouldn't split up," Caithe said.

  "Not much choice." He turned to her. "Where to now?"

  "It's strange. I sense a presence here. Something magical."

  "Well, then, lead the way."

  Caithe stepped out ahead of him and strode down the slope. Logan hoisted his war hammer and went along.

  The city was indeed built on a dwarven scale: Logan had to duck his head to look through windows. Markings on the walls had the deep-etched angularity of dwarven runes, and along the main way was a metalwork shop every hundred paces.

  "Definitely dwarves," Logan said. He peered into a burned-out building, with charred tables and chairs and a burst beer tun.

  Caithe meanwhile stood at the corner of the building, peering down the cross-street. "Yes. Dwarves."

  Logan came to her, rounding the corner to see the undeniable proof-a dwarven skeleton in chain and plate armor lying on a pile of rubble.

  Caithe crouched down to look more closely at the r
ubble pile. The broken stones seemed almost to fit together. "Here's what killed him."

  "What?" Logan asked. "These stones killed him?"

  "These stones are the remains of a destroyer-a monster of elemental magma. A whole hive must have erupted into this chamber and burned every living thing in it."

  "They conquered it only to vanish?"

  Caithe nodded grimly. "Destroyers care only about killing. They are forged from the molten heart of their master-Primordus, first of the Elder Dragons to rise. The dwarves forestalled his coming, but at a terrible price. They are all but gone now, and Primordus is rising to destroy all races."

  Logan took a deep breath. "All right. Let's try to keep things a little lighter, yeah? How about finding this presence of yours down here?"

  Caithe lifted her head, listening, and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply and pointed. "This way."

  She set off down the street-a wide, cobbled way that grew wider as they went. Soon, the avenue split around medians, where stone sculptures depicted dwarves-working, fighting, drinking. One tableau showed dwarves in battle against destroyers.

  "Just ahead," Caithe said, hurrying forward.

  Logan marched double time up the avenue, which bent around the massive wall of a dwarven palace. On the far side, the avenue entered a great arch against the stone wall. Logan scratched his head. "They must have been carving a new passage when the destroyers attacked."

  "No." Caithe pointed toward the base of the arch, where a massive blue crystal hung loose from its facing. As a breeze wafted past, the stone swung toward the wall, which sparked slightly. "This is an asura gate. It's probably from when Primordus was first put back to sleep. Watch." She knelt beside the stone and pressed it into its housing.

  Suddenly, the gate flashed with light.

  Logan and Caithe shielded their faces. Only as their eyes adjusted could they see what strobed within the archway.

  Visions. Beautiful visions… a grassy plain where wild horses ran… a deep lagoon encircled by leaning palms… a great glacier with snowcapped peaks in blue… a sere desert where crystalline statues stood…

  "Ow!" Caithe said, letting go of the crystal. It was glowing red, and smoke rose from a chunk out of one side. "It's damaged. Someone smashed it to close the gate."

  "Can we get it to work long enough to get out of here?" Logan asked, pushing the stone into place again. … a deep rain forest… a hamlet in a hanging valley… a bustling harbor jammed with junks… a white city with gleaming spires…

  "That was Divinity's Reach!" Logan said, stepping toward the gate. Already, though, the scene had changed to a city-size white tree within a steaming jungle…

  "And that was the Grove!" Caithe said.

  Logan hissed, releasing the crystal and shaking his hand. "That thing's overloading. We'll have just one last chance at this before it blows completely. And if we jump through at the wrong time, who knows where we'll end up."

  "Maybe I can call to the Grove. Maybe the tree can prolong the contact."

  She began to sing:

  Oh, come to me, heart of the wyld.

  Oh, hear this lost sylvari child,

  Away from wood and glade and briarEntombed within a world of fire.

  Rytlock was still hearing Caithe's vibrant voice echoing through his head. It was almost as if she were just around the corner.

  "That's it," Rytlock growled, sliding Sohothin upward. A feeble blue flame flickered around the twisted metal blades and then flared to life, roaring and crackling. "Ah! Light!"

  The fire shone across the ruined street where he stood, revealing burned buildings and shattered walls, dwarven skeletons and dead destroyers. But it also revealed something else. Something worse.

  Live destroyers.

  They hunkered in an alcove of the cavern wall, their lava figures barely flickering with fire. But the flaming sword seemed to awaken them. One destroyer shifted, its insectile head rotating toward him. Fire blazed from eye sockets and mandibles. The beast jolted up, joints liquefying to lava and arms rising.

  Rytlock took a step back.

  The other two destroyers shifted, too, standing.

  Oh, come to me, heart of the wyld…

  That wasn't a memory. That was Caithe's voice.

  Two more destroyers rose. Now there were five of them.

  Rytlock could take five destroyers. He'd be a little charred by the end of it, butThen about ten more stalked out of the alcove.

  He turned and ran. These were destroyers, and there were too many of them, but he could even the odds if he found Logan and Caithe.

  Entombed within a world of fire…

  "Not yet, I'm not!"

  Logan heard the bray of a drunken mule. "What was that?"

  "Someone's coming," Caithe replied.

  The air shook with massive footfalls.

  "By the sound of it, a bunch of someones."

  "Maybe destroyers," Logan said. He was using his shirt to hold the broken crystal in place. "Do you see the Grove?"

  Caithe turned back to the archway as images flashed, one after another: a desolate tundra… a deep-hewn canyon… a storm-tossed sea. "No."

  Logan looked behind them where a fiery light glowed along the palace wall. "We're just going to have to jump for it."

  "We don't want to end up in the sea."

  "Watch for a good place." … a smoldering battlefield… a calving glacier… a trackless swamp…

  Logan looked back again and saw that the fiery light came from Sohothin, clutched in the pumping fist of Rytlock. The charr ran full out down the avenue with an army of destroyers right behind. "Just about anyplace!" … a blazing desert… a venting caldera… a green gladeCaithe grabbed Logan's arm and hauled. "Now!"

  He barged after her through the flashing gate and tumbled down on a grassy meadow. A moment later, the magical membrane burst apart again, emitting Rytlock at a run. He stumbled and rolled beside them.

  "Together again," Logan noted.

  Rytlock had no time to reply, though, as the gate popped thrice more before closing.

  Three destroyers had vaulted through the magical meniscus, and they landed in the meadow.

  LAIR OF THE DRAGONSPAWN

  Beneath a frigid blue sky, Eir led her wolf comrade and her metal allies. Steel feet crashed on glacial ice. Cogs ground and servos whined. Stone heads and silver skins reflected triangles of light across ice-choked peaks.

  They marched up a valley with a glacier running through it. The center section was smooth like a frozen river, but the outer sections had cracked into countless parallel crevices. A thousand feet ahead, a wide cave slanted into the glacier. It didn't seem so much a cave as the mouth of a slain titan, giant icicles like fangs jutting all around it.

  From Big Snaff, a metallic voice spoke. "Those look daunting."

  "They're worse than you think," Eir replied. "Look within the cave."

  Creatures paced there-five-hundred-pound wolves of ice. Hackles bristled across their shoulders, and claws cracked the ice beneath them. With eyes that glowed blue, they stared out at Eir and her comrades.

  "They're corrupted wolves that once defended our homeland," Eir said. "Now they defend the despoiler."

  Snaff's golem shuddered, taking a step back.

  "What's wrong?" asked Zojja.

  "There are more than wolves there."

  Staring through the huge eyes of his golem, Snaff saw giant, white bats dropping from the ceiling of the cave. They spread icy wings and shrieked, echolocating their prey.

  "Let's take them on!" Eir roared, charging.

  Garm galloped beside her.

  "Charge!" Snaff roared as the Bigs followed.

  Eir and Garm reached the ice cave first and bounded within. Icy bats swarmed them, but her axes and his teeth ripped their wings away. Bats tumbled from the air, shattering on the ground.

  The ice wolves came on-baying as they charged.

  Eir turned toward the first and smashed her axe through its brow. M
etal crashed on ice, broke into the creature's watery brain, and pulped it. The ice wolf fell at her feet.

  "That felt good."

  Another wolf leaped for Garm's throat. He dodged to one side, caught a foothold, and lunged back to fasten jaws on the icy neck. Garm bit down, and the whole head broke loose.

  More ice wolves converged.

  One clamped its jaws on Eir's forearm, ice skirling on her steel armor, and a second lunged for her foot. She kicked, but the wolf held on, and she staggered unsteadily back.

  Meanwhile, two other wolves circled Garm. One darted in to bite his throat, but Garm leaped atop it and smashed it to the floor of the cave, shattering its head. Even as it slumped, though, the other clambered atop it and bounded on Garm, shoving him to the floor.

  But then steel pounded ice. Big Zojja struck the wolf's head, and cracks raced through it. The head calved and cascaded down in a glittering shower.

  "Great job!" shouted Snaff from within his golem, which was marching through the cave, kicking ice wolves to pieces with his massive feet.

  Eir also kicked hard, breaking loose the jaw of the wolf that held her foot. Pivoting, she swung her axe against the creature that clutched her right forearm. The beast cracked and fell. Eir rained more blows on it until it shivered apart.

  In moments, only the ice bats were left, dying like mosquitoes with each sweep of the golems' hands.

  When the bats were gone, Big Snaff strode jauntily up to his comrades and flexed his metal fingers in satisfaction. "Better than anything Klab could invent."

  "Better than anything the Dragonspawn's seen," Eir said with a laugh, kicking at the remains of an ice wolf. She gazed deeper into the cavern, seeing a throat of ice that descended into the glacier. "Let's take this battle below!" Eir strode away at the head of the group. "I wonder what lies ahead."

  A few giant strides later, they saw. The ice cave descended through a water-smoothed throat into a deep, dark belly. Meltwaters had formed ropy lines of ice, and on that rumpled ice stood warriors.

  Norn or once-norn, they were tall, garbed in armor and furs, bearing staffs and spears and swords. They might have been defenders of Hoelbrak except for the dead blue light that shone in their eyes.