A rasping, guttural sound from behind, to the right. He turned.
The war mage squatted down, its staff across its knees. Its horns were now almost entirely black and thick smoke poured from them. Its face was covered in what looked like soot. Smoke also puffed from its thick tangled beard. Only its eyes, yellow and gleaming, could be seen clearly through the mess. It rasped, muttered and babbled, pointing a long crooked finger at Case.
Case knew he was looking at death, maybe Death himself, right here in the skin and bones. Did everyone who was about to die see this same scorched face? Did the fellow Case had shot, all those years ago, see it too? Somehow, before Case had seen it, it had been a lot more frightening. What could it do now but put him to sleep, into a state where nothing mattered?
Strange, though, that it seemed to be trying to talk to him. ‘Can’t follow you, friend,’ Case answered it.
It listened, head cocked like a bird’s, then babbled some more. What a horrible voice, unnatural as a robot’s. Only one or two words stood out, the rest was like an animal growling. Case looked where the man-beast pointed. There was another just like it, lying dead as all the other bodies. It was charred to a crisp — two curved horns were charcoal. The lower half, where its legs were supposed to be, was a pile of ash being slowly scattered in the light breeze. Smoke drifted off it gently.
Case turned back to the one still living. ‘You won a fight, that’s what you’re telling me? With something as foul-looking as you? You’re a pretty mean customer. But why’d you have to kill my friend?’ With those words, Case was startled to find anger boiling over in him, sudden and powerful. ‘Huh?’ he yelled, ‘Why’d you kill my friend? Ugly bastard!’
The thing gibbered, grunted. It sounded like its breathing was difficult.
‘You going to keep making noises like a dog? Speak up! Tell me what you done to him!’ Case threw the bottle of scotch. It spun end over end, falling well short of the war mage and landing in the soft grass. Any regrets? Case thought to himself. Yes, one …
The war mage didn’t react, as though it were too sick to care. ‘You. I’ve a question,’ it said, voice deep and rasping. ‘Tell me of a large beast in your world. The beast’s name.’
That Case understood it perfectly was a shock that left him off balance, as though an animal had stood on hind legs and spoken. He swallowed. ‘A beast?’
‘The name of a large, mighty beast,’ it said. ‘An animal. I’ve a question. I expect myself to answer. Yet I wish to be understood.’
Case recovered a little from his shock. ‘Death wants to chat, eh? Elephant, then. Elephant’s a big animal. You mind if I go pick up that bottle? I could use another taste before you get me.’
The yellow gleaming eyes sparkled. ‘My question. An elephant runs through a wall of stone, and makes a house collapse. An elephant beats to the ground a castle old as Time. An elephant slays a mighty elephant, exactly big as it is itself. It is tall as the sky, feet big as mountains. But what can it not do?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Case, tears brimming in his eyes. How he hated that voice, which made him feel so small and weak. ‘I don’t know. I just want a drink.’
‘Insects crawl behind its ear. They give it a frightful itch. They near drive it mad. It cannot kill the insects behind its ear. That is what it cannot do.’ The war mage laughed, a sound like rustling leaves.
Case nodded. ‘Thanks. Thanks a whole freaking lot. Now can I get that bottle?’
It looked at him, sickened and exhausted, almost dead itself, if Case judged right. The scotch lay in the grass a little way before it. He headed for it slowly, palms open to show he meant no harm. He just wanted a drink, a goddamn drink, more than he ever had.
‘It now needs other insects. To do the killing for it,’ the war mage said, its eyes following Case’s movements closely. ‘But what of when the killing’s done? Are they to kill themselves? Or do they nest?’
‘You’re nuts. But if you let me get that bottle, I’d really appreciate it.’
It hissed a warning as he took another step closer.
‘You go ahead and kill me,’ said Case, anger rising in him again. ‘Just like you killed all these other poor people. But I’m going to get that bottle.’ He jogged right over, leaned down and grabbed the bottle by the neck. He was within spitting distance of the thing now, near enough to get the foul stink of burned hair and its own flesh cooking in heat Case could feel. It showed its teeth as a dog would, a growl loud in its throat.
Case backed away quickly, hands shaking as he undid the bottle’s lid, took a swig and allowed himself to close his eyes, here, on the brink of death, and savour the scotch. ‘Now, you seem busy,’ he said, buoyed, ‘and I have to find my friend. I’m gonna take a punt and guess he’s not dead here with these poor souls. So I’m gonna leave you to it. So long.’ Case tipped his hat and began to walk away.
The war mage had seemed undecided, but now it stood, shoulders hunched like someone frail and sick, murmuring words too low to hear. Its arms were stiff, its skin scorched and cracking as its staff made chopping motions in the air. Case felt heat rising.
‘You some kind of wizard?’ he called. He spread his arms, offering himself as a target. ‘Go on ahead, put on a show, let’s see what you got.’
The thing pointed a long claw-tipped finger at him, swayed, then hunched forwards, a strangled painful cry in its throat. Such a pitiful sound compared with its rasping deathly voice. Hot air rippled outwards from it, and the space around it shimmered, but then its staff fell sideways in the grass, and its stiff gown of skin was swarmed in worming flames. It fell to its knees, slumped sideways and lay still, burning like a campfire.
‘Some wizard,’ Case said, laughing. ‘I could’ve done that with a box of matches. What’s your next trick? Encore!’ He took a long pull from the bottle and whooped. ‘Still alive!’ he yelled. ‘Let’s see what else you folks’ve got around here, besides dead people and wizards dumb as a box of hammers. Eric, you here? Eric?’
10
They’d walked for about a minute but the cries of the war mages could still be faintly heard. ‘Step quieter,’ said Sharfy. ‘Your shoes are loud.’
‘Surely they can’t hear us from here.’
‘Groundmen will. Their tunnels, all these secret ones are. Castle don’t even know em yet. We’re trespassing right now. You are, anyway. I paid a toll.’ Sharfy’s voice became thoughtful. ‘Other things might hear, too. Never really know what might be down here.’
Bright little points embedded inches deep in the rock sparkled all around them, giving the air a ghostly light. The coins jingled in Sharfy’s pockets with each step and Eric felt the frost from his knife when it got close. He was entirely conscious of that smoking sheath of metal every step they took. ‘Here’s an idea,’ he said. ‘You could tell me where we’re headed. That way it might feel a little less like I’m walking to a shallow grave somewhere.’
‘I won’t kill you,’ said Sharfy, sounding surprised. ‘If the castle wants your kind dead, means the Mayors will want you alive. Why’s not for me to say. But if you come at me I’ll cut some of your guts out.’ He laughed. ‘That was a joke.’
‘Nice one.’
At first, Eric kept an eye out for the chance to catch him off guard, maybe drive an elbow into his jaw, take the clips, load the gun … But this was not a comic book: action would not happen in still frames, and he was well aware a man with as many scars and dents as Sharfy would know a thing or two about fighting.
In a stretch where the lightstones were dim and sparse, they came to a large round opening in the rock wall. Sharfy paused to examine it, troubled. A horrible and very strange smell wafted from it, conjuring sickly colours in the mind. ‘This is new,’ Sharfy whispered, nervously tapping the opening’s edge with his knife. There was, just faintly, a distant creaking sound, perhaps in response. Sharfy peered in, but it was pitch black, with no lightstones in the gloom ahead, no way to know if the tunnel led straight, up or down. ‘Something bad in there. Don’t know what. Keep real quiet for a while. Take those shoes off.’