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Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats
by Charles Matthias and Ryx
Pars IV: Infernus
(f)
Saturday, May 12, 708 CR
The rat saw no more than that before Qan-af-årael
pulled him back down. The Åelf pushed him
downward and leaned over, pressing their foreheads together as before.
Be careful, Charles. We do not want to be seen.
That's a Keeper they're torturing!
I know. But listen to what they say.
Listen, how?
Even as he thought the question, the various
clicks and chirps that could be heard even
through the Keeper's howling anguish suddenly
seemed full of words. And not just single words,
but entire sentences laid atop one another like
quilts on a bed. The words felt clipped and
precise, offered each as an assessment bereft of
emotional touch. Cold and uncaring, they betrayed
a detached inhumanity that was in some ways worse
than the clicks or their appearance.
The progression of the disease has not affected
the projection of the subject's larynx. The
subject displays control over volume but can no
longer produce discernible sounds.
The collapse and failure of the lungs will
proceed once all tone has been lost. Notice the
manner in which the subject attempts to crawl.
The distinct limp in its rear left limb indicates
a possible source of necrosis. A sample will be necessary to be certain.
I concur, a sample will be necessary to be certain.
Before we proceed with the sample, notice the
slight protuberance on the subject's back above
the tail. It has attempted to hide this from us
by turning away from us, but a spasm of pain
followed the application of pressure to the hips. Observe.
The Keeper howled in renewed grief, a pitch that made Charles tighten his eyes.
The protuberance is quite real. I suspect that it
indicates a new direction for the disease.
Normally such growths would appear on the rib
cage first. Could there be an abnormality in the
subject's biology that would produce such anomalous behavior?
We will require a sample to be certain, and a
thorough test of the chest area to ensure that no
protuberances aren't hidden by the coat of fur.
The best indication will be the rictus of pain
and howl we witnessed a moment ago when the tumor on the back was distended.
Let us proceed then with haste.
Charles found his paw wrapping about his
Sondeshike. The cool metal felt good in his palm,
and the coursing of power between flesh and
weapon invigorated him. He trembled beneath
Qan-af-årael's arms, eager to break theirs.
The screams continued, sometimes muted and tired,
other times refreshed and with such an exquisite
peal that the rat began to weep in frustration.
The advance of the disease has entered into the
rib cage. The reaction of the subject indicates
several areas of intense localized pain which can
only be caused by the growth of tumors from
within the marrow of each rib. I postulate that
at our next observation they will have fully
developed and the subject will be incapable of
touching its chest without crippling agony.
We will need to be certain because the
infestation of the ribs cannot proceed without
the concomitant consumption of the lungs.
Agreed. A regenerative will be required in order
to check certain advances of the disease so that
these new developments can be more fully
explored. Administer oral regenerative but
isolate the area of the back where we observed the anomalous protuberance.
Charles finally quivered enough to break his
connection with the Åelf. Enough! he hissed
through the holes he'd chewed in his cloak.
No sooner was the word out of his muzzle came his
regret. For the clicking and chirping stopped and
the footfalls, bizarrely common and
human-sounding, resumed, but with greater urgency
and in their direction. Charles glanced at the
Åelf but Qan-af-årael only appeared more
determined, his normally peaceful countenance
radiating both a calm assurance and a bitter
resolution. Charles tightened his grip on his
Sondeshike while looking to see if there was
anywhere they could flee. The last place he
wanted to begin a fight against strange enemies was in a corner.
As the almost rhythmic clicking and footfalls
grew closer, Charles realized that they were more
in front of him than to their left. And so he
slipped out from beneath the Åelf's touch and
crept around behind the wall toward the left. His
steps made no noise, even as his tail uncurled
from his lap and his cloak fell from his jaws.
And though he feared these beasts could hear
things beyond his ears, they did not seem to change direction.
Qan-af-årael followed behind him. Charles paused
at the edge of the wall for only a moment before
dashing across the open space toward the next pit
and protective wall. The clicking-things turned
as one toward him and moved with greater
intensity. Charles chanced a look behind him and
saw his Åelf protector remaining behind,
long-fingered hands crafting something invisible between them.
If Charles was to be distraction, then he would distract.
The rat leaped up into the air, unleashing his
Sondeshike to its full length, and striking the
tip against the wall. He expected a shattering of
stone. All he received was a small blossom of
sparks and a resounding, but hollow-sounding,
thunk as of a child striking the stone of a wall
with a bar of pot-metal. The insect creatures
turned toward him, stretching out all eight of
their limbs and waving their mandibles. At twenty
paces distant, he saw that they were easily twice
his height and more, whose long legs were
actually jointed backward at such an angle that
if they stood up straight they would have gained
another eight feet in height. A swollen, greasy
yellow abdomen hung between those legs, the end
of which oozed a puss-white miasma that trailed
along behind them, drying into the floor like wax.
The creatures paused for one moment when they saw
him before bending their legs down further and
leaping into the air with the unexpected, and
startling, speed of fleas leaping from a hound.
Charles dove to the side, rolling quickly with
all the speed of the Sondeckis, and slashed up
and back, where the monstrosities would come
down, as he tumbled expertly to his paws. The
insects crunched into the ground only a few feet
behind him and the deadly steel of his Sondeshike
whacked hollowly when one of the insects batted
his swing aside with one of its arms. Spittle
from the frothing mandibles stung his face as it
hove over him, a breaker towering over the shore
a moment before falling in a crush of water and foam.
Charles dashed further into the room between two
of the pits. He half turned and began spinning
the Sondeshike hand over hand so it would form an
impenetrable disk. Keeping that at his side while
he ran caused his steps to turn inward, but he
had no time to fret as the monsters leaped again.
One landed directly ahead of him and the rat
bounced off the bulbous abdomen, the Sondeshike
clattering from his hands. The steel did not ring
with the bell-like purity Charles knew; it
rattled as if it were a bar of mere tin,
skittering to rest against the lip of a pit
nearby. He felt sharp claws grasp his arms,
shoulders, sides, and legs, lifting him into the
air. He struggled and lashed with his tail but no other limb could he move.
He screamed as the insect-thing lifted him toward
its mandibles. But the jagged saw-toothed face
did not grasp him. Rather the long antennae
brushed across his face and chest, sending a
shiver racing through his flesh and fur. Charles
screamed louder, throat raw in moments from both anger and fear.
The other insect ran its limbs across his pants
and cloak, rending with care and precision, never
once biting into the flesh beneath. Charles
gasped, yanked, tugged at each of his limbs and
swung his tail from side to side, trying anything
to get himself from their grasp. Even his Sondeck
availed him nothing in the monstrous grip of the
gardeners. Their obsidian hexagonal eyes
glimmered with the satisfaction of having a new
subject on which to perform their grisly contamination.
And then a child's voice cried in the distance
and a blaze of light seared through the head of
the insect slicing him free of his garments. A
putrid green ichor gushed through the vertical
gap indenting the middle of its head. The eight
limbs shook, all their strength gone, before the
body collapsed into a heap, toppling into the
nearest pit. A forlorn, bovine low sounded
briefly from below before a heavy crunch and wet
splatter brought it to a final end.
The other insect held onto Charles with four of
its limbs, one each on his wrists and ankles
which he pulled until his shoulders and hips
lanced with pain. With its four other limbs it
began drawing out spectral objects that glimmered
with power. They seemed a mix of sickle and
sword, and with these it slashed and deflected
bolts of energy erupting from the opposite side
of the chamber. Charles could barely see any of
it as his snout was pressed into the chitinous
armor of its thorax. He gagged on the scent of
filth and putrefaction that lathered its iridescent green armor.
Just as he was certain his limbs would all be
dislocated, Charles turned his ears at the sound
of a fiery scream. He felt a rush of heat against
his arms, legs and tail, and then all of the
beast's limbs went limp. Charles collapsed on the
ground and rolled out of the way as the monstrous
insect crumpled, a blue fire consuming it from
behind. The abdomen erupted in a fountain of
molten sinew before its entire form caved inward
and smoldered a foul smelling smoke.
Charles grabbed his Sondeshike from where it had
fallen and felt intense relief that neither he
nor it had been touched by the mucus lathering
both insects. His trousers were a ruin with one
leg cut off just above his knee and the other cut
into strips halfway up his thighs. The cloak was
in better shape, but the corners had both been
cleaved through, leaving it open at his paws
unless he crouched. He swept up what pieces he
could in one arm, and then looked around the
chamber for the Åelf and whoever else had come to his aid.
Qan-af-årael still had a blue nimbus around his
arms as he stepped out from their hiding place, a
look of damaged serenity present in his eyes. A
faint smile touched his angular cheeks when he
saw that Charles stood, and then they looked past
him toward the other end of the chamber.
Following his gaze, Charles stared in both relief
and amazement at a group of six men and a single
boy checking in each of the pits as they moved
through the chamber. They wore scraps of clothes
no larger than the pieces Charles grasped in one
hand except for the boy who was garbed in
pleasant but plain raiment adjusted for his small
stature. He felt a strange awe when he recognized the boy.
Wessex! He called, his voice hollow after his screams.
The boy looked at him and nodded, but waved a
hand to bid him wait. At the urging of two of the
other men leaning over one of the pits, Wessex
rushed over, drew arcane symbols in the air, and
concentrated, lifting his arms up over his head.
Charles marveled as up from the pit floated an
old woman riddled with vicious red sores and
black shriveled hands and feet. Her hair, white
and scraggly, looked smeared with excrement. She
was naked and for this the men averted their gaze
while they gently grasped her arms and eased her weightless body to the floor.
Wessex and one of the other men bent over her and
whispered little incantations. A white glow
proceeded from their hands that settled across
the woman's flesh. The boils and pustules
whitened and sealed, disappearing into whole
flesh. The black necrosis in her hands and feet
faded, the skin and sinew taking on life again.
Even her age seemed to retreat as if it had been
a foul air cast out by a billowing wind. Charles
gaped in wonder, and then approached, offering
the scraps of cloth cut free from his pants and cloak.
One of the men, a youth of no more than nineteen,
smiled and took the cloths from him, gently tying
them across the woman to give her some modesty
back. Wessex and the other healer continued their
work for a moment more before turning to another
pit from which one of their number beckoned.
Charles reached out and grasped the boy on the
shoulder. Wessex! It's me! Charles Matthias.
Wessex looked up the short distance to him and
smiled. Though his body was ten years in
appearance, he was still very short for those
years. I know it is you, Charles. But we have to
rescue as many as we can from this place before
other gardeners come. Or worse, the master
himself. The boy's eyes narrowed and he added,
before shaking off the rat's hand. You should
not be here. I can see you still live. What they
would have done to you... you dare not imagine.
Stay and help us if you will, but please do not hinder us.
Charles nodded and followed after the boy.
Qan-af-årael walked toward them though kept at a
subtle distance. In this pit they found an older
man with black pustules protruding from his body.
He lay naked, curled into a ball weeping, though
Charles could hear nothing of what transpired in
the pit. But once Wessex and his companion had
levitated him past the opening the choked cries
and whimpering filled his ears and heart.
Do not touch him, Wessex cautioned with a
glance at the rat. The sickness they torture him
with spreads easily. Give us a moment to heal it.
Wessex and the other healer bent over the
quivering, suffering man and began their
incantations. Charles stepped back several paces,
blinked, and then moved down along the pits,
glancing into each to see if he could find the
other Keeper. Most of them just contained animals
of various sizes, with horses and cows being the
largest, to sheep, goats, pigs, and dogs as the
smallest. He saw only a couple of other humans
and past these he ran with a sickness in his
heart after making sure one of the other human
rescuers noticed him pointing them out.
Despite his best efforts, running from pit to
pit, he could not find the Keeper he'd heard.
Charles swore under his breath as he turned away
from yet another pustule-laden sheep and then
almost ran snout first into Qan-af-årael's chest.
He gasped and bowed his head in apology. When he
looked back up at the Åelf, he noticed a warning
in his golden eyes. We cannot linger here any longer. Something is coming.
Charles blinked and lifted his ears. He heard
nothing other than Wessex and the other healer.
But there are so many who need help here.
Not even your friend can save them all. Look how
many they are and how desperate. If you wish to
pass through this place without becoming one of
its victims, you must not linger any longer. You
have helped save one, but you cannot save any more.
He's right, Wessex announced as he climbed to
his feet. The older man crumpled on the floor was
free of his sores and taking short, shallow
breaths as he flexed his muscles. The other
healer wrapped one of the last of Charles' scraps
across his waist to give him the dignity of a
loincloth. Something is coming. One of the chief
gardeners. None of us can be here when it
arrives. We have only minutes. He narrowed his
eyes and stared at Qan-af-årael. I do not know
how you know these things. You don't belong here either.
I am guarding and guiding Charles. He is the reason we are here.
Charles grimaced. My son was taken from me and
I'm here to find him and bring him back if I can.
If not, then I am here to say goodbye. Either
way, I must find him. He is Beyond, which means
we need to find the bridge to the next realm.
Wessex shook his head. I do not know what you
mean by bridge or next realm. Beyond... the
gardeners are very cautious to deny anyone that
surcease. They will keep you at the point of
death for thousands of years if they can. As if
years mean anything here. He turned to his
companions and waved them closer. We have to
leave now. Tell any you see on our way that we
are sorry and will be back for them soon. Let us take these two to safety.
Wessex wasted no more words, and none of his
companions offered them anything other than a
hard glance. Charles and Qan-af-årael fell in
behind them as they headed back the way they'd
come. Charles turned his ears at a faint whumping
sound coming from the other direction. The chief
gardener? He shuddered and kept walking.
They reentered the stone passage and continued
down the other fork. It turned to the right
before opening out on another chamber. This was
filled with small cages stacked one atop the
other. Little creatures like mice, moles, rats,
and birds were housed therein each in a state of
distress; only a few showed interest in them.
Through this chamber they passed unmolested and
came to another similar chamber but with larger
cages, this filled with animals more the size of
cats and ferrets as well as many more that he did not recognize.
After two more similar rooms they came to one
with more pits. But these pits were thirty or
forty paces across and housed very large animals.
Charles felt his heart stabbed over and over as
he saw the sufferings of elephants, hippopotamus,
rhinoceros, and even large reptiles like
alligators, pythons, and fantastic shapes he didn't even recognize.
At the center of the room Qan-af-årael put a hand
on Charles' shoulder and bid him stop. The rat
let out a sudden squeak and chided himself for
letting his anxiety get the better of him. Wessex
turned as well, brow furrowed in a very
child-like way. We cannot stop here, he hissed between his teeth.
The bridge lies that way, Qan-af-årael gestured
to a passage leading off from the right. I can feel it now.
Wessex followed his arm and sucked in his breath.
One of the other men with him made some sign to
ward off evil. That path leads toward the
master's gardens. It is very dangerous. Few of us ever escape there.
It is where I must go, Charles said with a
sigh. I am glad to see you are... faring well, Wessex.
As well as the souls of the dead can fare, you
mean? The boy snorted, but a real smile emerged
on his lips. Thank you, Charles. I'm sorry we
did not always get along, but... He shook his
head and rubbed his hands together. Just one
question I have before you go. How are Jessica and my other students?
Jessica is married to Weyden and very, very
happy. Your other students are all learning well
enough at the guild from what I hear. But
Jessica, she speaks of you from time to time. If
they have a son she wants to name him after you.
You were like a father to her.
And she a daughter to me, Wessex replied, his
smile warm and deeper than any child could
profess. Thank you, Charles. May your Eli
protect you in all the dark places you must walk.
Charles put a paw on Wessex's shoulder and then
the two of them embraced. Thank you,Wessex.
Rescue every one you can. I will tell Jessica that you are well.
Do not let her come after me, Wessex cautioned
sternly. I am dead and this is where I must serve. Good bye, Charles.
Good bye, Wessex.
Gently, Qan-af-årael turned Charles away from the
others and guided him toward the portal on the
right through which they would find the bridge.
Charles turned his head slightly to watch Wessex
and his companions help the woman and old man on
their path. He hoped they'd find their safety.
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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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