But Bronze fueled him still so Scorio pounded a blow across its face, his whole body behind the strike, twisting from the hip, and then again, a backhand, knocking the fiend’s huge head aside, then a third straight in its gullet.
The black glow that had begun building for a second time in its chest flickered, guttered, then went out, causing plumes of smoke to burst from the Ferric Drake’s mouth and nostrils. Scorio staggered back, delirious, then summoned all his pain, his fear, his terror for Naomi’s wellbeing, and hit the drake with a blast of his mysterious command power.
FLEE.
The Ferric Drake skittered back, undulating and frenzied in its desire to get away, only to pause at the edge of the void. There it regarded Scorio, eyes livid with fury. Its face was mauled, bright crimson blood ran down its back, and one wing was perforated from Scorio’s earlier strike, but it wasn’t beaten.
It was checked.
If anything, its shock had undone its assault. Scorio should have fallen. Should have died. Should have been burned to a crisp, but instead he stood there glowering at it, swaying drunkenly, his command scalding the air.
The fiend shrieked and flung itself out into the darkness and disappeared.
Scorio stood for a moment longer and then crashed to his knees.
The last vestiges of Bronze burned across his Heart in a dull flicker. He didn’t want to let his Heart go out. Knew that the pain that would come rushing in would undo him.
So he clenched his jaw and just stared at the white-hot tips of his talons. Grim, stubborn, he held on to his ignition, but when the Bronze gave out and became Iron, it felt as if a cape of lead had been draped across his shoulders and he toppled sideways to crash to the floor.
Naomi caught him, her arms around his now human shoulders as she lowered him gently to her lap.
Scorio blinked blearily up at her and forced a grin. “How did I do?”
“You mad, stupid, idiotic…” Her eyes swam with tears, and then she stared straight up as she blinked them away. “How did you do that?”
“Raw talent,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “Ineffably good looks. Big fucking claws.”
She laughed, but the sound became a sob, and he realized he had to look pretty bad. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll just need a moment. Gold-tempered. Can’t anything keep me… keep me down.”
Naomi said something but he didn’t catch it.
Instead, he saw in his mind’s eye the Ferric Drake’s burning red gaze, its fury and shock.
The fiend wasn’t defeated.
Not even close.
And it was going to come back.
* * *
“…your Heart,” Naomi was saying.
“What…?”
Pain. Scorio tried to pierce the mists that obscured his thoughts, to find the way back to himself, but the pain was profound and near intolerable. His arms felt charred, his chest throbbed, the top of his head was a sizzling plate of fire. He wanted to arch his back, to writhe, but hands gripped his wrists and kept him pinned.
“Ignite your Heart, you idiot!”
That made sense.
Bronze was in the air. He reached for it, not even bothering to visualize his paddle, and began clawing fistfuls of mana into his great Heart. Only to stop and regard his Heart in confusion. When had it become spherical? And so massive?
And then everything slid back into place and he remembered himself, his journey, his new abilities, and that his Heart was already half-filled with the vestiges of Iron. He ignited, his Flame Vault nature making the process immediate, and the silvery flames raced up to immolate his font of power.
The pain didn’t disappear, but it withdrew. Scorio opened his eyes as he grimaced, only to see Naomi’s shoulders sag in relief.
“Did I miss anything?”
“Only my shouting at you for the past forever. You were just lying there, dying. Or would have been if you weren’t now made of invulnerable flesh.”
Scorio sat up and regarded his blacked and blistered arms. “Hardly invulnerable.”
“Want to debate what that attack would have done to me?”
He glanced sidelong at her, one eye closed, and gave her a hangdog grin. “I’m not interested in theoreticals.”
“Just hurry up and heal,” she said. “We’re not safe and that fiend could return at any moment.”
“Working on it.” And already the worst of the wounds were starting to seal over, the charred nature of his blackened flesh growing softer. Fire never seemed to slow him down for long. With a deep breath he swirled a great mass of Bronze into his Heart and substituted that for the Iron, and felt even more invigorated. “Where are we?”
“This must be one of those underground complexes Druanna warned us about.” Naomi sat back on her heels. “Remember? The ones she told us to never enter?”
“Doesn’t seem so bad.” Scorio looked about, finally taking in the space. It was illuminated by not only the red band of rock he’d followed down, and which ran along the ceiling into the depths of the huge chamber, but by other bands of luminous red that circumscribed the room.
But he couldn’t determine the space’s purpose. It was clearly man-made, or at least shaped by some intelligence, but it was devoid of anything familiar. No furniture, no space that could even double as a bed or shelter. Just random stone blocks angled toward the channel, as if guiding something that might burst out of the back of the room so that it would flow into the dark void.
With a hiss, he rose to his feet. “Have you checked the back? I can’t make it out from here.”
“Are you asking if I left you unconscious and unguarded?” The look she gave him was halfway between pitying and disgusted.
“Then let’s take a look.”
“Or we should heed Druanna’s advice and get back to the World Worm’s tunnel.”
“Right. And resume trying to outrace that Ferric Drake. That was working so well for us before.”
Naomi just glared at him, so he began limping deeper into the great chamber. The floors appeared unnaturally smooth, but actually were subtly granular and dusty. The monoliths were about three or four yards tall, free standing, and angled so as to form a chute, their placement growing ever wider as they approached the rear wall.
Most strange.
“There’s a hallway,” he called back to where Naomi was reluctantly following. “More than a hallway. It’s massive.”
“Not as big as the tunnel above.” She sounded mollified, as if this in some way made up for their bothering to explore. “Or that huge space above this artificial chasm.”
“This is all so strange.” Scorio shook his head wonderingly. The back of the room featured a square hallway a good twenty yards wide, with what turned out to be four disparate red bands flowing in along each surface, one to the walls, floor, and ceiling. The hallway was lit with the same soft golden radiance, and ran straight for what looked to be maybe a mile, then curved abruptly to the right.
Scorio glanced at Naomi as she stepped up alongside him. “You ever hear about any of this?”
“No. Nothing. But folks in Bastion only hear what the bards and songwriters choose to sing, and they always chose songs that praised the most famous of the Great Souls.”
“I guess nobody famous ever came down here.”
“Or had an adventure worth singing about.”
They stood in silence, staring into the depths of the large hallway.
“Well.” Scorio rotated his shoulder with a wince. “This place is rich in Bronze. That’s a vote in its favor over that weak Iron from the tunnel. Shall we explore?”
“Does this lead toward Nox?”
“It leads away from the Ferric Drake.”
“Fair point.”
“Your Heart?”
“Better. It’s as if I fell asleep on my arm. Numbed it out, and now it’s slowly coming back to life.”
“Prickling and burning.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Can you ignite.”
Hesitation. “Maybe. Probably not. I’m going to wait a bit more.”
“Then let’s head on in. It’s always been my motto to choose uncertain death over a guaranteed savaging by a Ferric Drake.”