IGS #4, Chapter 11

Scorio

For the first short while everybody stayed close, clustered together not far from the plug, watching intently and listening for sounds of impending doom. Leonis was their center, and it was as if nobody was willing to stray too far from where he lay. Kelona found a dark gash in the back of his head, one that no doubt would have been worse if his bundled ponytail hadn’t cushioned his fall.

“Head injuries are bad,” Jova had said after crouching beside Leonis for a spell. “Either he’ll wake up, or he won’t.”

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Kelona. “Make him more comfortable, or…?”

“Just wait and hope.” Jova rose to her feet, expression hard. “After all, if the Instinctuals get through, we’re probably dead.”

Nyrix still had his brightly glowing crossbow out, though he now held it casually in one hand. “Xandera can just burn us another tunnel.”

“Weren’t you listening?” Jova’s voice was sharp with scorn. “She said we’re surrounded by bad rock.”

“Bad rock,” said Scorio. “Explain.”

“That… stuff we saw in the first cave. All hollowed out and then layered on top of itself.” Jova waved irritatedly in the direction of the plug. “It’s been messed with. Infused with something. I can’t explain it. But the result is bad rock that doesn’t listen to my power.”

“Agreed,” said Xandera quietly. She sat to one side, running her fingers through her mane of lambent hair. “The Silverines have done something to it. Made it weaker, yet also… more than just stone. I could burn through it easily, but…” She gave a little shake of her head. “It’s very strange. Echoey.”

“Echoey,” said Scorio. “Perhaps it has something to do with their song?”

Kelona snorted. “You call that racket they were making a song?”

“I do. Or some kind of music. Remember how Sybelleo and the other philosophers sounded so… I don’t know the right term. Musical, or lyrical, so that sometimes it was hard to even understand them? The sound the Instinctuals were making, it reminded me of it. Not like the okoz with their hooting, but part of their attack.”

“So…” Kelona hesitated. “You think the Instinctuals did something to the rock to augment their attack?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Jova. “This entire cavern system is too large and hidden for them to hope Great Souls would wander into it. No. Whatever they did to the rock must have been for another reason.”

“Well.” Scorio placed his hands on his hips and gazed around the cavern. Without their darkvision they’d have been in real trouble. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. We just need to get out.”

“Brilliant deduction,” snapped Jova, then strode off to one side to stare at nothing.

“Tough situation,” said Scorio to Kelona and Nyrix, raising a hand as if to forestall any complaints. “We’re all feeling it.”

The other two nodded reluctantly.

“Xandera. Tell me more about what you sense around us.”

The blazeborn queen sighed and pushed her mass of molten hair back over her shoulder. “The bad stone makes it hard to read, but—think of us as a… think of this cavern as bubble in a lake of magma. A bubble on the stone floor. Magma around us on all sides, and above.”

“With the magma being bad stone, which means Instinctuals.” Scorio licked his lower lip as he considered. “So if we burrow in any direction, we open a hole to one of those caverns.”

Xandera nodded.

“What if we dig?” asked Scorio. “Go straight down, then out to the side?”

“We could do that,” said Xandera. “It would just take a long time.”

“Time we’ve got.” Scorio frowned at the cavern around them. “Well. As much time as the Silverines will give us.”

“Can you sense if they’re digging toward us?” asked Nyrix.

Xandera leaned forward to place her palm on the ground. “No. I don’t think so? I can’t sense the Silverines directly, just if a tunnel were being dug, and… I don’t think that’s happening right now.”

“They know we’re in here,” protested Kelona. “Why aren’t they chasing us?”

“There’s a lot we don’t know.” Scorio tried to project the calm and confidence they seemed to need. “Why the Silver mana is pooling here. Why the Silverines have done this to the caverns outside this one. Why they’re not digging after us. But for now, let’s take that as a blessing. It’ll hopefully give Leonis time to recover, and us time to plan.”

“What’s there to plan?” Jova had half-turned back to them. “We can’t dig our way out. All that remains is for Xandera to bore us a tunnel down and then out to the sides.”

“How does your power work?” asked Nyrix cautiously. “Can you help her dig?”

“No. Not really.” Jova glared at Nyrix, then looked away. “My power allows me to manipulate rock where it lies, mostly. Anything loose. A boulder, a pebble, even sand, to a very limited degree. Tearing rock out of rock is incredibly difficult for me. To tear a piece out of smooth floor?” She shook her head. “Maybe when I become higher ranked.”

Nyrix nodded. “Well, you saved us all back there with your storm of stones.”

“What?” She glared at him again. “You trying to make me feel better?”

“Enough,” said Scorio. “We’re in a tough situation. Let’s just recognize that and calm down. Take advantage of this time and rest. I’m not convinced the Silverines won’t find a way to us. Remember Vill saying they don’t give up? We might as well restore our strength while we can.”

Kelona nodded. “Too bad we lost our packs. Our food. All our gear.”

“At least we’ve got this water,” said Nyrix, turning to stare unenthusiastically at the standing pools that littered the ground. “That’s a life send.”

Kelona smiled with faux-sweetness. “I don’t suppose you want to try one first for me?”

To which Nyrix snorted, allowed his crossbow to disappear, and moved over to the closest pool to kneel, cup water up in his palm, and sip.

Kelona leaned forward.

“And?”

Nyrix smiled. “Delicious, actually. Cold, clear, has this wonderful taste.”

“Thank Eterra,” said Kelona, hurrying over to join him.

Scorio stepped over to Jova. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if Sybelleo led us into this trap on purpose.”

“Didn’t seem like it. But who knows?” Scorio considered. “What do you think of opening a tunnel in which to funnel fiends into a killing field?”

Jova eyed him sidelong. “A bold plan. But did you see how many there were?”

“I didn’t get an exact count.”

Jova snorted. “Too many. My attacks were hurting them, but not killing rapidly enough. I saw you pass through them in your flame form. They didn’t like, but they weren’t just keeling over, either.”

“Yeah.” Scorio nodded reluctantly. “They’re tough. But if we made a narrow tunnel, say just wide enough for us to kill them one at a time as they came through…?”

Jova considered. “I would need a good supply of loose stone. There’s not much to be had in here.”

“I could turn into a giant dragon and just knock some of those spikes off the ceiling,” grinned Scorio.

“Well.” Jova didn’t exactly smile, but he thought he sensed her smiling deep, deep down within her core. “That would help.”

“I wait in dragon form. I should fit in this end of the cavern. You stockpile some really large rocks. Xandera opens a narrow passage. They start coming through, and we kill them as they come. Then Xandera closes the passage whenever we need to rest.”

“Nyrix could help with his crossbow, I suppose.” Jova inhaled deeply, held the breath, then released it all at once with a sigh. “The trick would be to not let too many push in at once.”

“Right. But say we do it in controlled bursts. Slaughter, take a break. Slaughter, take a break. Eventually they’ll run out of numbers.”

“Might just be easier for Xandera to dig us a way out.”

“True. But that will definitely take more time. She’ll have to dig a passage out from under all the bad rock. Who knows how far these caverns extend out around us?”

Jova studied him. “You just want to kill fiends.”

“And you don’t?”

And finally she did smile. “I wouldn’t mind some practice.”

“Good. Because we don’t actually have much time. Water, yes. But food? In a few days’ we’ll really be feeling it.”

Jova nodded. “You want to do this right away?”

Scorio glanced at where Kelona and Nyrix were talking quietly by the pool, then at where Leonis lay upon the smooth floor. “Let’s give them a little time to recover. Then we’ll start.”

*

They slept fitfully in shifts. The ground sapped their warmth, so Nyrix shot his crossbow up at a high ledge, opened a portal, and then returned with armfuls of the strange pink growths that grew all along the sides of the cavern in the hopes of making sleeping mats out of them.

They were strange indeed. The ridges ran the entire way around the cavern, like balconies along the inside of a play house, their edges striated and filled with gaps. The bushes grew perhaps as tall as man, a continuous vegetation, it turned out, whose fibrous roots descended through the ridge to descend and connect with the growths below. Even the bushes were strangely ridged, with thick steps rising a foot to then connect in a woven platform from which the next set of stems would grow, all of it blossoming into the faintest pink of confections at the top, spongy and thick and strangely dense.

“Smells nice,” said Kelona, lifting a sprig to her nose. “Like… something sweet, but not quite honey. Honeyed lavender?”

Nyrix was trying to tear the mass he’d brought apart, but was having difficulty. “Scorio? Some help?”

“Sure.” Scorio stepped up, rising into his scaled form, and with his searing claws made short work of the growths. The smell grew more pungent, like burnt caramel.

“I could go for some food,” sighed Kelona, taking the slashed sections of bush and laying them down beside each other. “Perhaps I’ll dream of a hot meal.”

Nyrix eyed her, amused. “It’s been—what—a handful of hours since breakfast? You can’t be starving.”

“It’s the thought that we have no food that makes me hungry,” complained Kelona, bedding down. “Anticipatory starvation.”

“You are clearly ready for tough travelling across Hell,” said Nyrix, shaking his head. “Should we make a mat for Leonis?”

The big man lay still, breathing steadily as always, his expression calm if a little pale. “I’ll take care of it,” said Scorio. “You guys get some rest.”

Scorio walked to the closest ledge, giving Nyrix and Kelona time to bed down. A deep inhale. By the hells it felt good to drink deep of so much Silver. He poured it slowly, clumsily into his reservoir. How infrequently he did this now. It had become a reflex to use the Marinating Technique. To skip his reservoir altogether and just Ignite.

But now he did so thoughtfully, observing how the Silver flowed so smoothly into his great Heart. It had the fluidity of Copper, the density of Iron, but lacked the grandeur, the spectacle of Gold.

When he was filled to the brim he pushed his senses out. Silver everywhere. The cavern was saturated in it. No wonder the Instinctuals had been drawn here in such numbers. The strangeness of this band of Hell struck him all over again, and then he put the matter how of his mind and grew his wings.

Without adopting his scaled form first.

It was surprisingly tricky to do consciously. Back with Moira he’d grown them reflexively, driven by urgency and half-panic, but now, thinking it through, willing them to extrude without changing the rest of himself, it was surprisingly awkward.

But slowly he did so, his torso changing in subtle ways to accommodate the wings, his shoulders broadening, his chest layering in muscle. He kept the wings small and maneuverable, then leaped and flew up rapidly to the closest ledge, where he alit gently before the pink bushes.

Only to pause, curious. The cavern curved away to the left at its far end. The ridges curved around of view. With his wings still grown, he glanced down at the others, then hopped off the ledge to fall and catch himself. Beating strongly, he rose and flitted forth. His human form was far lighter than his scaled one, and he felt almost jangly, his flight path erratic. But there might be more maneuverability here if he could come to master it.

He flew down the cavern, following its curve, and saw that it was roughly bean shaped, kinked in the middle with the second half ending abruptly with a series of more massive ledges, the pink bushes having grown into an orgy of branches and fronds and pink blossoms that covered the back wall as if a huge bucket of pink paint and sticks had been hurled against it by a giant.

Scorio’s darkvision had grown far more powerful and complete in his Pyre Lord form, and as he flew closer he saw a series of caverns set beyond the broad ledges. Not tunnels—Xandera would have noticed that—but deeper and more spacious that the more alcove-like depressions on their half of the cave.

Scorio landed on one ledge and poked around a bit. Back here the pink fronds were bustling with small, jewel-aphids, each the size of the tip of his thumb, complete with waving feelers and crystalline bodies like diamonds. They sipped on the plant stalks, and even as Scorio watched the abdomen of one slowly filled with pink smoke until it turned a solid hue, at which point it settled down, feelers retracting, as if to sleep.

Interesting.

But there was nothing else of note. He entered a couple of the caverns, each perhaps the size of his ruined cottage back in LastRock, then eventually admitted that there were no secrets back here and collected an armful of the springiest fronds. Slashing these off with his burning claws, he shook the jewel-aphids of them, finding them harmless, and then flew back to his companions.

Kelona and Nyrix hadn’t fallen asleep, it seemed, but were simply resting and conversing quietly.

Jova sat beside Leonis, watching Scorio approach, and when he landed she examined his cargo and nodded. “Might as well make him comfortable.”

“Even if he doesn’t notice,” agreed Scorio. Together they fashioned a rough bed, and then, with extreme care, levered the big man onto it. Jova cupped his head so it wouldn’t loll, and they adjusted him as best they could till they realized there wasn’t much more they could do.

For a moment Scorio just stood over Leonis, staring down at him with a frown.

“Nothing any of us could have done,” said Jova, misunderstanding his expression.

“It’s not that. I was thinking of the bitter irony of losing him again so quickly into our voyage.”

“He’s not dead yet. There’s a chance he’ll awaken.”

“True.” Scorio couldn’t be bothered to argue. But some sense of fatalism had him tight, and the dark, gallows humor of losing Leonis almost as soon as he’d regained him made the possibility seem all but guaranteed.

“I was considering our killing zone,” said Jova after a while. “Where best to place it. Unless you saw something ideal around the corner?”

“Just more of the same. Bigger caverns, bigger ledges. Doubles the size of what you can currently see.”

“Might work. I was thinking we should place the tunnel into a wall right beneath a ledge, so Xandera can collapse the ceiling if things go wrong.”

“Dramatic. But sure. You’ll be in charge of plugging it like before?”

“You get me one of the biggest spikes, I’ll do just that.”

“Helps that they taper to a point. Like a sword thrust. You can just shove it in as deep as it goes till it gets too wide.”

Jova raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just thought you were being crude on purpose.”

“Crude?” Awareness dawned. “Oh—no! I mean, obviously I can see why you’d think that, but—”

“It’s fine, Scorio.” Jova sounded world weary. “I’m not a child. But yes. Xandera above, the spike at the ready by my side. I’ll need plenty of ammunition to ensure I can whittle their numbers down.”

“And room for me to be in my dragon from.” Scorio nodded. “We’ll need a word or signal to indicate when it’s time to end the bout. There’ll be too many of them at first.”

“Sure. How about you yell ‘close it’ when you think it’s time?”

“I don’t know.” Scorio rubbed at his jaw. “It’s got a certain flare to it, but the ambiguity might be confusing in the heat of battle.”

Jova arched a dark brow.

Scorio smirked. “Let’s walk around. Find the best spot.”

They explored the cavern on foot. Mostly in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. Scorio found himself comparing, against his will, how Jova’s competent focus contrasted with Naomi’s dark intensity. She’d have shifted into the Nightmare Lady immediately and set off exploring, while Jova was content to move methodically along the wall, checking every alcove and recess. Stopping to point out stone spires rising from the ground close by that might be either advantageous or that would complicate matters. Crouch to gauge the slope of the cavern floor. Frown up at the overhanging ledges.

Working with Jova felt calm and serious and without… Scorio tried to find the right word. Tension? Which was strange, given their past, her betrayal, the reservoirs of pain she’d caused him. But walking along the walls with her felt almost relaxing. It was business, but he was conducting it with someone focused, professional, and competent.

Hadn’t Naomi been all of those things? Focused, yes. Competent? Scarily so. But not professional.

That was the difference. Everything with Naomi had felt fraught with her trauma, her past, her suspicion of those around them, her paranoia. Each moment he’d felt ready to step in and intervene in case she got upset, reassure her if she got suspicious, talk her down if she felt the need to quit and run. Everything had felt personal.

And in the end, her cumulative negativity had become exhausting.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jova, turning back to him.

He’d stopped following, growing lost in his thoughts. “Nothing. I got distracted by memories.”

“Memories.” She said the word as if testing it, posture growing stiff. “Of my…?”

Her mistakes, she seemed to imply.

“No.” A flickerflash of subtle relief crossed her face, and tension left her frame. “Doesn’t matter. I should be more focused.”

“You should.” But said more in agreement than scorn. “I was saying this cavern looks ideal. Its the narrowest and deepest we’ve found. If Xandera can punch a hole through the back, we should have the greatest chance of controlling the flow of fiends into the cave. The ledge above looks flimsy enough that I could smash it down with a boulder, and there’s room to that side for your dragon from.”

Scorio took his time pacing out the area, then entered the cave and moved to the very back. He thought he could dimly hear the Instinctuals, their song a low hum that set his nerves on edge.

“Sure, this works.” He turned, tapped the ceiling, then re-emerged. “When should we begin the festivities?”

“Soon,” said Jova. “It’s going to take a long time to slaughter these fiends. Let’s check in with Xandera and see when she might be ready to get to work.”

“Sounds good.” Scorio fell in beside Jova, but the companionable silence from before had grown strained. Perhaps it was due to her thinking he’d been pondering their past. He felt moved to reassure her, but then checked the instinct. This was business, after all. They weren’t friends. And if she was on edge due to remembering how she’d betrayed him in the past? Then that was a lesson worth dwelling on.

Or so he told himself.