The Gift of Volkeye (46 page)

Everywhere about a creature was having one of their arms sawed off by Murlach’s subjects. Vlajd glared at the spectacle. There must’ve been fifty different tables hosting some unfortunate howling creature, trying to withstand the pain. No sooner than their limbs hitting the floor, did their surgeons lay aside the cutting utensils and spread the blue paste of no name (another of Zynathian’s copied arts) over the wounds, instantly cauterizing them.

“Most of them are in the beginning stages of their
transformation. However, what I’ve brought you all down to see is the final stages, which I hope won’t disappoint,” Murlach said.

They followed him to the far end of the room, coming to a slightly less than Maugrimm-sized beast with horned shoulders, resting on his knees. His arm sat atop a sturdy table and was covered with a dirty blanket that bulged outward in strange manners, as if the arm housed many deformities. The beast appeared to be passed out. Murlach tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“All right there?” he asked.

The creature opened his eyes, and the others realized that he wasn’t unconscious, but merely resting.

“The pain, Master…it’s too much. More drugs, please!”

Murlach grabbed a syringe with a long thick needle that hung from his waist. He unsheathed the sharp end and thrust the needle through the creature’s seemingly impenetrable skin at the deltoid area. The beast winced as the painkillers were injected. About a minute later, his breathing eased, and he opened his eyes in
in
complete relief.

“That’s a bit better, but I wish you had something strong enough to alleviate the pain altogether!”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I have no such thing. The pain will disappear in time. However, pain is something you must learn to deal with, because I suspect you all will be going to battle before it completely subsides.”

The creature took an expression of such anger that Vlajdimir would’ve wet himself had Murlach and Phyllamon not been in the room.

“Stop complaining. Surely a gigantic, muscular brute like you can stand a missing arm! Now, let me look at you,” Murlach said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Phyllamon pacing with excitement. Murlach himself was more nervous than anything, because failure was a great possibility, as this was his first attempt at the most difficult of Zynathian’s creations. He’d begun to construct it the day he gave himself new fingers, following the instructions down to the last detail. Murlach didn’t sleep for several days when he first began the project, and the previous night he’d worked until the wee hours of the morning, making minor adjustments. Now had finally come the time to test his model. Murlach’s subject, Kruxum, had been in this same position for the last twelve hours, whilst he fit the bulky, artistically graceless piece to his arm.

“Rise, Kruxum,” Murlach said.

Squinting in pain, he stood, and the blanket slid from his arm, unveiling the wonder beneath. Kruxum ignored the sharp sting running through his arm and raised Murlach’s creation, inspecting it. It was damn ugly…an abomination, even. Kruxum growled irritably, knowing that such a thing couldn’t possibly work.

This is why I lost my arm?

Murlach seemed to read his mind. “Don’t mock my intelligence, Kruxum. Be patient,” he said, circling him, impressed with Kruxum’s ability to wield the heavy object despite the pain he was in.

Murlach addressed them all. “The moment of truth,” he said, walking to a distant corner and uncovering a crudely made cement sculpture. “Everyone, stand back…Kruxum, aim here.”

Murlach stepped out of the way.

Although he thought this a pointless gesture, Kruxum aimed at the structure and concentrated. Suddenly, he was startled. Beyond the pain, he could feel something. It was as if his hand was still there, acting on his commands. He ordered his imaginary finger to pull the trigger.

The room was showered with a continuous spell of flashing, red sparks, which finally disappeared like fireworks in the sky. Kruxum seemed to have forgotten his pain, as he roared with laughter at the mess of debris lying before him. He then destroyed a nearby table and also obliterated the wall behind the sculpture.

Murlach went to get a better look. The weapon’s precision was a complete embarrassment compared to Zynathian’s! It was much heavier as well, and even though it lacked the most impressive feature (being able to transform from weapon to arm again) it still worked. That was the key.

Murlach smiled with pride. “Master, I’ve done it!”

“Excellent! Tell me, is it possible to speed up the process and maybe build another hundred and fifty? And can you be ready in a month’s time?”

“Yes, now that I have a working model and know what I’m doing, it will definitely be a faster process. I can enlist the aid of some of my lessers to oversee the construction of the weapons in an empty chamber. However, I’m going to need every available piece of metal, Master. Without it, there’ll be no weapons for my subjects.”

“That’s fine, use whatever you can from the castle and melt it down to suit your needs.” Phyllamon rubbed his chin, thinking a moment. “Now that you know how to construct this particular weapon…can you make some that could be attached to some sort of stand?”

“Yes, Master, I don’t see why not.”

“Excellent. Within the next week I want at least two set up and manned, outdoors, just in case Zynathian attempts to be a hero and attack me here. I really do hope he tries it…I’ve got a little something for him if he does!”

“Not a problem,” Murlach answered. “One other thing…because we’re pressed for time, expect their less-than-healed bodies to be a factor when they’re fighting.”

“I can handle it,” Kruxum spoke up, still admiring his weapon.

“You see, Murlach, they’re tougher than you think. Don’t worry so much,” Phyllamon said, clasping his hands together.

Murlach grinned. “Master, can you imagine Zu with one of these weapons? My God, he’s going to be…”

“A terror!” Phyllamon said.

He saw the inquisitive look on Zephranie’s face and thought to explain.

“Not only is Zu our greatest warrior, but he can take a massive amount of damage and still be a threat. He appears to be blessed with good luck, too. He has more lives than a cat, that one does…nearly impossible to kill! I don’t know any other soldier that could be one-hundred-thousand miles in the sky, falling to his death in an incapacitated ship, only to escape and then be assaulted by a gigantic bird, which he
also
escaped…only to still be plummeting to his demise—equipped only with an injured back and a malfunctioning jetpack—and still live to tell the tale!”

Phyllamon let out a volley of jovial howls, humoured over Zu’s return home after the assault on Zynathian’s castle. Once Phyllamon finished his spell of laughter, he began pacing about, talking to himself.

“First, we’ll head to the Trio and burn all their homes to the ground…just in case the filthy traitors ever try to return. Then we can dispose of each hostage in Mashyuvah, one at a time, finally destroying the city brick by brick, spreading fear throughout the lands. Eventually, they’ll all bow down and join me in my quest for world domination!”

Phyllamon grinned.
Ah, yes! In one month’s time…

“Zynathian Volkeye, your ass is mine!”

1

Zynathian’s mug of tea smashed into the monitor.

“C’mon then, you bastard! I’ll rip every one of you, limb-from-limb!” he spoke to an oblivious Phyllamon on the screen.

Zynathian stormed about the room throwing books and kicking over chairs. Everyone stood aside, knowing his feelings were justified.

He hadn’t been in a good mood for two weeks, livid over the girl’s unnecessary heroic act. Because of Jix’s spying, he soon learned that the girls’ deed had placed over two hundred people in Phyllamon’s hands as hostages. (He’d only just begun to look his daughters in the eye, though not yet uttering a word to them.)

Also through Jix’s efforts, Zynathian learned that several volumes of his journals were stolen, and this
‘Murlach’
person was using his ideas to remarkable results! He’d prayed the dwarf wouldn’t be intelligent enough to create weapons from the journals, but lost hope when he saw his success with the new fingers. Zynathian knew this Murlach was to be feared, for his mind was a finely developed instrument. He decided that he must get the journals back at any cost, but knew it couldn’t be done easily.

The amount of work needed for the completion of Teshunua’s procedure should’ve made things all the more stressful, but, ironically enough, it was the only thing that had gone well for many days. Tesh’s finish went exactly as planned, granting him remarkable new talents. Not a trace of his injuries remained, and his hair had even come back with a bit of stubble above his lip and on his chin. Bahzee, however, hadn’t seen him yet, as Zynathian refused to speak to her, let alone comment on Teshunua’s progress. The only thing that kept her calm was the fact that Asha assured her that there was no need to worry, though she gave no details.

Zynathian kept Teshunua under for more than two days afterward, as to be sure he was well rested. He took him off the machine in the middle of the night, expecting him to wake on his own, this day. Although still worried about those people in Mashyuvah, with Teshunua’s successful completion, Zynathian’s spirits had risen. He even went as far as to flash a smile at Bahzee, Sing, and Lyn Sha this morning. But now, seeing that Murlach had concocted a weapon from his journal notes, he quickly relapsed into his previous state.

Asha attempted to console him, as he cut the monitor off.

“There had to have been forty or fifty of those experiments going on there…and the bastard wants one hundred and fifty more! How the hell are we going to fight two hundred of those things?”

Zynathian had succeeded in procuring dozens upon dozens of barrels full of Maugrimm’s waste, which would definitely suit certain warfare purposes. However, he hadn’t yet had the time to build or program any Mechs to aid them in battle. Zynathian and Asha realized their goals had been too lofty, for not only did they underestimate their massive workload between Teshunua, the castle, and the weapons they’d ordered the Mechs to construct, but Zynathian had also neglected the fact that Mech Building was amongst the slowest of his procedures. Efficient as the ones he owned were, he hadn’t built any in more than a decade and forgot that it sometimes took a year to build just a few dozen and program them properly. Since he knew another battle wasn’t too far in the future, they’d be forced to ask for aid from the refugees that fled to the Igloo…not all of whom were guaranteed to be warriors. Zynathian’s heart sank with this revelation.

“I’m almost certain that my people from Rhameeryla will help, that’s not an issue. Let us just hope that those from the Trio and Mashyuvah are up to the challenge as well,” Asha said.

Just as Zynathian was about to respond, the monitor went bright again. A pale, freckled girl with red hair and rosy cheeks suddenly appeared.

“Hello,” she said, gazing through the screen.

The girl observed the concerned faces, four of which she didn’t recognize. There was a man, who she assumed was Lynnie’s father, Zynathian; a pretty mixed woman with dreadlocks; a boy; and a gigantic something of whose species she was unsure. The girl slightly jumped when she laid eyes on Maugrimm, as this was her first time seeing him, even though she’d spoken to Lyn through the screen several times already.

“Hey, Annie!” Lyn Sha said, coming out from behind Maugrimm.

“Hey, Lynnie…who tore up the room? What’s that stuff on the screen?”

“That’s my Daddy’s tea,” she replied, grinning. Lyn grabbed a rag and began to wipe the contents from the screen. “He was upset about Phyllamon.”

“Oh…that’s okay. He’s enough to make anyone have a fit,” Annie replied.

“Thank you for understanding…I’m sorry…it’s
Annie
?” Zynathian asked.

“Yes,” the girl replied.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve seen you and Lyn talking over the last couple of weeks, but we haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Zynathian.”

“Khyeryn.”

“Maugrimm.”

“Asha…her soon-to-be stepmom.”

“It’s wonderful to meet the rest of you,” Annie said. “Hey, you two!” she said with enthusiasm, waving at Sing and Bahzee.

Sing smiled. “Hey, hon, how’s it going?”

“How’s Sam?” Bahzee cut in.

“Mommy’s great…she’s still exploring a lot around this place. It’s huge!”

“We can’t wait to see it,” Bahzee said. “We should be down soon.”

“I hope so…we need you all. Everyone is worrying about people in Mashyuvah, because there are some here who claim to have relatives there, but they haven’t arrived yet. One man here showed up with a missing arm and had nearly bled to death…said it was bitten off by those same things that chased us out of Rhylix! I guess Phyllamon and those beasts attacked them, too. But what’s puzzling is the fact that it was the middle of the night! How did Phyllamon even know we were planning a mass exodus at that exact moment?”

The girl’s faces went red with embarrassment at this. Annie didn’t notice and continued.

“There’s a big group of people here, heated over this whole mess. They come from some place called ‘Rhameeryla’ that none of us have ever heard of. Anyway, they have
really
big guns! They’re talking about going to Mashyuvah and having a shootout to free any prisoners who might still be alive!”

“No!” Asha said.

“Annie, this is very important. You go and spread the word that ‘Zynathian’ said that they’ll do no such thing until he’s arrived. They mustn’t be hasty, understand? Be sure to let them know that you spoke to me personally!”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” Annie promised.

“Nice meeting you, Annie,” Asha said.

At this, all but Lyn hastily turned to leave the control room, knowing that they needed to get to bed early so they could rise early and head to the Igloo. However, they’d let Lyn finish conversing with Annie, thinking it wonderful for two ten-year-olds to have something to talk about other than the grim subjects of late.

Lyn and Annie were left to their gossip, most of which would pertain to Lyn’s friend, Nicolas, who Annie had a crush on and hadn’t yet mustered the courage to speak to. Since the first time they spoke through screens, Nick had been a
highly
discussed topic with them, much more so than war, death, or the likes of Phyllamon.

2

The shield slid shut behind them as they left the room in haste, only thinking of how catastrophic it would be for any of the refugees to rush into Mashyuvah on a rescue mission. Who knew how many infantry were in the city? It was possible that they’d be outnumbered and slaughtered.

“I do hope they heed my warning,” Zynathian said.

“Surely they’re not that stu—” Asha was too shocked to complete her sentence.

“Teshunua!” Bahzee shrieked, rushing him, leaping into his arms.

He was still yawning, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Hey,” Teshunua said, smiling, still in an absolute daze.

He had flashes of the incident in his mind. There was Felix. Then there was the feeling as if he’d suddenly been cast into the pit of hell...that burning sensation! He recalled his arms and legs strangely floating away from him. Then everything had gone black. Teshunua shivered, as he shook the memory from his mind.

“Uncle, you are something else, I tell you.”

“No need stating the obvious, squirt.” Zynathian winked at him.

“Baz, don’t…I have the worst breath right now!” Teshunua laughed, shooing Bahzee’s kisses away. She ignored him, kissing every un-kissed portion of his face that she could find. “…I feel like I haven’t brushed my teeth in…how long have I been out?”

“Over two weeks,” Zynathian answered. “How do you feel?”

“Great! Actually
...amazing
,” Teshunua said, brow furrowing with curiosity. “What did you do?”

“You mean
‘What did
we
do?’”
said Asha.

“Yes…you are entirely Asha’s creation,” Zynathian pointed out. “I merely executed her ideas, bringing them to life.”

Teshunua was surprised at this, gleaming at Asha. Being the artist that she was, he could only imagine what she’d dreamt up for him.

“Put this on,” Zynathian said, handing Teshunua something he’d pulled from the pocket of his lab coat. It was wrapped in cloth.

Teshunua unwrapped the object and was now holding a facemask of sorts.

“Because of your new gifts, you’ll have great speed and strength…nothing like Lyn Sha or Bahzee but more like that of an animal. Your new abilities will most likely make you a daredevil, and by you being an explorer you may very well wind up in atmospheric conditions that you’re unaccustomed to. This mask will help you breath properly should you ever find yourself in abnormally high altitudes or strong winds…and it will protect you and your lungs from most types of extreme weather. I think this will come in very handy on your travels!”

Whoa,
Teshunua thought, holding the black and silver mask. It was to cover the bottom portion of his face, starting at the bridge of the nose, extending all the way underneath the chin. It was nearly weightless, so light that it wouldn’t be the slightest burden. However, there were no straps, and Teshunua was wondering how it would stay on. He fumbled with the mask for a moment, and then, as he fit it just right, he heard the air suck out between his skin and the surface of the mask. He was momentarily frightened, for it seemed the mask had welded to his face permanently.

“Calm down, Tesh,” Zynathian said, seeing him worriedly fidget with the mask. “There are buttons on each side of the nose bridge that will allow the mask to detach itself…but leave it on for now. How does it feel?”

“It’ll take some getting used to…I know it’s there, but I can’t feel it, it’s so light!”

Everyone was slightly jarred at the sound of Teshunua’s voice. It was enough that he was already intimidating, being over six feet tall. But now, with the addition of the mask and distorted voice (slightly magnified, yet deep and evil sounding), Teshunua was absolutely terrifying. Zynathian smiled, thinking that if they didn’t know Teshunua, they would’ve soiled their undergarments at the sight of him!

“Come…we don’t have long before we need to get to bed, so we must run through this quickly,” Zynathian said, heading outdoors. The others got their coats and followed.

They made their way out to what was left of the balcony after the attack. There was still about thirty feet remaining, more than enough to prevent a fatal accident. Besides, the edge of it was blocked by Jalum’s massive body, so they couldn’t have fallen off if they wanted to. Teshunua pulled his coat and scarf more firmly around his neck, as he skipped back and forth, barefoot.

“Uncle, it’s freezing, why am I out here in my bare feet?” Teshunua asked in his scary voice, sounding frightening even to himself.

“Well, for one, you’d tear up your boots, and, secondly, I don’t want you shooting in the house, boy. It’s damaged enough as it is!”

Zynathian pulled his hood over his head, so that only the blue of his eyes showed. “Transform your legs so that your feet don’t get frost bitten,” he said to Tesh.

“What?”
Teshunua thought, looking puzzled.

“You heard me…do it,” Zynathian said, refusing to explain anything, as he was sure Teshunua would figure it out on instinct.

Teshunua paced about for a moment, closing his eyes and concentrating. He felt a buzzing vibration and then large-scale movements, as if the bones in his legs were completely reconstructing themselves. Then he heard gasps of awe from the family. When he finally looked down, he saw clawed, metal feet sticking out the bottom of his pajama pants. Like a bird, there was a toe at the heel of his foot, curved, sharp and talon-like. Teshunua was speechless.

“I thought they’d be useful for climbing mountains, seeing as you like exploring as much as you do,” Asha said, smiling wide.

“Climbing? Whoa, then my arms must be…”

At this, Teshunua stretched his arms wide and watched the changes taking place beyond the sleeve of his coat. Khyeryn and Zynathian were both highly impressed with his quick mastery of the transformation process. His body obeyed him so fast it was almost as if he didn’t even have to think.