“If the vitalwood yet live, then the fay may return.”
Alexander shrugged, pain and exhaustion rippling through his body. “Maybe … I don’t know.”
He hobbled over to the altar, leaning heavily on Luminessence, running his finger along the edge of the crystal bowl and sighing to himself before he started cleaning the debris from the well of memory.
“Forgive me, Isabel,” he whispered, pulling the stopper from the vial with his teeth and dropping it to the floor. He hesitated for just a moment, swallowing hard before tipping the vial and allowing the single drop of blood of the earth to spill forth into the well of memory. It splashed against the side of the bowl, scores of tiny beads rolling to the lowest point and collecting into a single drop.
The air became very still, as if the world itself was expecting something. The hair on his head stood up and then the four little mounds of dirt piled nearby started to stir, each coalescing into a creature of different form and shape. One took on a humanoid appearance while the remaining three seemed to vanish into the stone, molding it back into perfect form after they’d passed.
“They’re awake!” McGinty said, his voice filled with as much joy as Alexander could have imagined.
The sole Linkershim who remained on the platform seemed to regard Alexander carefully before refining its appearance to become a perfect imitation of him, except he was made entirely of stone and dirt.
“Thank you,” he said awkwardly, as if spoken language was foreign.
“You’re welcome.”
Alexander noticed movement in the distance, across the gap in the guardian chamber. He could see Grant and his men backing away while the opening on this end of the guardian chamber was being walled off. Two Linkershim, each formed a bit differently, drew stones from the floor and ceiling to build the wall, completely sealing off the chamber containing the well of memory from the rest of the world.
“We will remove the fleshlings from the underdark and unbuild Mithel Dour,” the Linkershim said. “But we will not harm them, as McGinty agreed.”
“Within the palace, there are two forges …”
“Those devices will be unmade as well,” the Linkershim said, a hint of anger in his inhuman voice.
“Good,” Alexander said.
“You will be welcome in the underdark, though not soon.”
“I’m honored. I look forward to seeing what you build next.”
“Other fleshlings will not be welcome. We shared our building with fleshlings before and they repaid us with death.”
“I understand your distrust,” Alexander said, “but please understand, not all fleshlings wish you harm. Most would admire your work.”
“You will not be disappointed. When the Linkershim build for joy, the result is worthy. And we have much joy now.”
“If you’ll show me the way out, I’ll leave you to your building.”
“As you wish,” the Linkershim said, transforming into a stone chair.
“Sit and you will be transported to safety under the sky,” McGinty said.
Alexander nodded, gently easing himself into the chair.
“It was nice meeting you, McGinty. Take care of the Linkershim.”
“You are an honorable fleshling, Alexander Reishi,” McGinty said, attempting to bow.
The chair and the surrounding stone floor sank into the platform, taking Alexander with it until he was completely encapsulated in stone. He lit the little space with Luminessence, watching the ground move around him, forming and re-forming according to the will of the Linkershim. He felt the sensation of movement, but couldn’t determine which direction he was going. Minutes passed. He started to feel a bit uncertain about his situation, the air grew thin and he felt a bit lightheaded.
Then, quite suddenly, he was under the sky. The capsule melted around him and he found himself atop a mountain in an ancient temple overlooking Mithel Dour from across the lake behind the palace. The sun was setting, orange and red, behind hazy clouds on the horizon, framed by an ancient stone arch, worn and broken. A stone bowl occupied the center of the temple altar, while ancient statues of men and women stood nearby.
With the help of Luminessence, Alexander got to his feet, and the Linkershim transformed from a chair into a likeness of him again.
“Behold, the unmaking of Mithel Dour,” it said.
Alexander limped to the railing for a better view of the city. It looked like the palace was imploding, stones being drawn toward some central mass within, walls and ceilings collapsing in on themselves, yet not scattering as gravity and inertia would dictate, but instead coalescing into a form, a form that rose slowly, accumulating stones, adding them to its mass until it was a giant of epic proportions, standing easily a hundred feet tall where the palace had once stood.
“How can it be so big?” Alexander asked.
“That is many Linkershim working together as one.”
The giant smashed the back wall, allowing the lake to pour forth into the city in a great torrent, water splashing into the streets, flooding a foot deep-more than enough to send the inhabitants of Mithel Dour into a panic. It took only minutes for the entire contents of the mountain lake to wash into the city, driving the people toward the cliff wall.
Then the giant focused on the palace, dismantling it a stone at a time, but leaving one elevator intact to ferry those trying to escape to the city below. Buildings, so beautifully made so long ago, started crumbling when other Linkershim began arriving in the city to help unbuild it.
The people were in a panic until they reached the cliff wall and found that the river had been redirected over the waterfall and the exit tunnel was open. Water flowed gently from the streets into the tunnel, soaking everyone trying to escape the dying city.
Another Linkershim rose up out of the temple floor, forming into the shape of a pedestal. Resting atop it was the Andalian Crown.
“This must be unmade as well, but it is beyond our power to do so,” the Linkershim said.
Alexander smiled, slicing the Andalian Crown in half with the Thinblade. A shimmer of magic expanded away from it, dissipating into the evening sky.
“Goodbye, Alexander Reishi, and thank you,” the Linkershim said. Then it melted into the floor, leaving the stone exactly as it had been moments before.
“You’re welcome,” Alexander whispered, before opening the door to his Wizard’s Den.
“Didn’t expect sunlight,” Jack said from his bed.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Alexander said. “If you can manage it, you might want to see this.”
Jack eased himself out of bed and came to Alexander’s side, blinking a few times at the scene unfolding below. Anja and Lita joined them as well.
“How’s Jataan?” Alexander asked.
“He’ll mend,” Lita said with a relieved smile.
“In that case, today turned out to be a pretty good day.”
Jack chuckled. “When you said you were going to destroy this place, I wasn’t expecting anything quite so thorough.”
Hundreds of Linkershim were moving through the city. Buildings were simply melting into the ground as they passed, leaving a clean, level stone platform where once a great city had been. The citizens of Mithel Dour, now refugees, were streaming out of the city to the plains below.
“As usual, I had help,” Alexander said.
“Looks like you hurt yourself again,” Lita said. “Go on, sit down, let me take a look at that leg.”