The Darksteel Eye Page 2

  Memnarch’s regular scolding repeated itself in his ears, “You do not need to know everything. You need only follow Memnarch’s directions.”

  The metal man redoubled his speed. Stepping off the causeway, Malil entered the observation platform. This room, by design, was completely empty, and the outer walls were made of one contiguous piece of magically curved glass. From here, he could see the entire interior of Mirrodin.

  Out the window, at the center of the plane, a huge ball of blue-white mana floated above everything. Below that, the ground curved up in every direction, encircling the glowing sphere and eventually meeting itself on the other side, forming both the floor and the ceiling of the interior. Pointy chrome towers, called mycosynth, rose from the ground, reaching up like gnarled, sharpened fingers grasping for the ball of power above them.

  Malil crossed the open chamber to a spot at its very center. There a red circle marked the floor, and the metal man stepped onto it.

  “Ground level,” he said.

  The room filled with the hum of magic, and the floor descended, slowly at first then picking up speed. It slowed and finally stopped. Malil walked down a short ramp, stopped at a waist-high railing, and looked over the edge at a legion of metal warriors.

  Each was identical. They had curved heads, each with a singular glowing yellow eye in the center. Their arms came from their sides, growing wider and thicker as they extended, ending in gigantic, razor-sharp blades. The warriors’ torsos were armored with metal plates, interlocking over the other so that they could move independently without exposing their delicate insides to harm. Where a human or elf would have legs, these warriors had two wheels tipped with heavy spikes sharp enough to puncture even the strongest metal. On their backs, every one had a short, trifold sail, which they used to steer themselves across the vast open expanses of Mirrodin.

  The metallic killers crouched, quietly ready and loyal, prepared to stay where they were for an eternity or cut down an army at a moment’s notice.

  Malil smiled. “Open the gates,” he shouted. “The Guardian wishes us to bring back an elf.”

  Glissa ran. She ran with all of her might, all of her being it seemed. The earth before her sank down and down. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought this great hole in the ground through which she descended led right through the middle of Mirrodin and out the other side. Of course, that couldn’t be the case.

  Slobad ran beside her. His wrinkled little goblin body moved surprisingly fast, considering how short his legs were. His tool pouch bounced against his body as he ran. It always did whenever they were running away from something. It seemed as if they had been doing that since the day they met.

  Glissa spared a glance over her shoulder. Bosh, the artifact golem, tromped along right behind her. His rusting iron frame seemed to lumber along, but what he lacked in agility, he made up for in size and strength. Each one of his footsteps measured more than three of Glissa’s. It was a good thing too. On more than one occasion it had been Bosh’s long legs that had saved their necks.

  The clanking sound of his heavy metal feet colliding with the ground was dampened by the glowing mossy substance covering every inch of the tunnel and lighting their way. The funny thing about Bosh was that no matter what he did, his face always held the same stoically serious expression. Right now, that look of utter concentration and contemplation seemed appropriate.

  In the giant construct’s outstretched arms, the newest member of the group rode, her face curled up tight in a grimace of pain, her hands gripping her leg. She had been hit by a harpoon while standing beside the Knowledge Pool. They had already removed the metal shaft, but the leg was still broken. Bruenna was a human wizard of considerable power, though none of those powers could heal her broken leg.

  Glissa turned her attention back to the mossy ground before her. It gripped her feet, making each step more tiring.

  The lacuna tunnel through which they ran was round and regular and traveled downward in a curved line. The slight bend in the passage blocked Glissa’s view of the warriors pursuing her. That, at least, was comforting.

  Though she couldn’t see the vedalken, she knew they were there. She could hear their marching feet squish the mossy ground as they gave chase. Of course they were going to chase her. She and her friends had broken into their most sacred place. Even though it was for a good reason, Glissa didn’t think the blue-skinned, four-armed creatures saw it that way. In fact, she felt certain they wanted her dead.

  Rounding a bend, the lacuna split in two.

  Glissa coasted to a stop, breathing hard. Were this the Tangle, she would know which path to take, but she was a long way from her home now—in a place that until a few minutes ago, she never knew existed.

  “Bruenna.… Which way?”

  The wizard looked down through pained and teary eyes. “I … I don’t—”

  “Left.” Bosh’s voice boomed over Bruenna’s.

  Glissa looked up at her metal companion. “Left?”

  “Left,” he repeated.

  “How you know?” Slobad asked, now gasping beside the elf. “Your memory back now, huh?”

  The golem’s voice rumbled through the tunnel again. “Yes. I remember this place.”

  The sound of the marching vedalken army grew louder in the curved tunnel. Glissa looked to Bruenna. The human shrugged.

  “We go left,” announced the elf. She continued her sprint down the tube. The goblin loped along beside her, as the clank of Bosh’s massive feet resumed.

  The tunnel continued on, and the mossy covering grew thicker, more dense. After another long turn the passage straightened, and a bright blue-white light beamed in. Glissa shielded her face, her eyes painfully adjusting from the dull glow of the moss that lit the tunnel to the blinding light now cascading down on her.

  Slowing down, she asked, “Where is that light coming from?”

  “I don’t know,” replied the mage.

  “The mana core,” answered Bosh. He nudged Glissa forward with his great bulk. “It is a long way off. We can travel on safely.”

  The elf shook her head. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Hope it not levelers,” added Slobad. “Slobad not dismantle whole army.”

  “No,” said Bruenna, “but the vedalken army will dismantle us if we don’t keep going.”

  Not the most ideal set of options.

  Glissa took off without another word. Bruenna was right. It didn’t matter what the light ahead of them was. They couldn’t stop. Better to head for the possibility of escape than cower from it and be killed by the vedalken.

  The light grew as the comrades ran. Glissa could make out the end of the great tunnel. Back-lit shapes began to form between the light and the thick carpet of moss.

  At last elf, goblin, golem, and human burst from the lacuna.

  Glissa fell to her knees at the sight before her. Her stomach churned, and her eyes seemed unable to focus. The world she had known, that had been changing daily for days now, was once again turned upside down.

  “It’s true,” she whispered. “Mirrodin is hollow.”

  The interior of Mirrodin was more beautiful and terrifying than anything Glissa had ever seen in her life. It was as if all the world had been turned inside out and stuffed down the lacuna. Since Chunth’s final words to her, she had tried to imagine it, but imagination fell short of the reality.

  A whole world rolled out before them. Spires of crystalline chrome rose from the ground, reaching toward the sky like the trees and brambles of the Tangle, but unlike the great metal forest, these structures were not so close together. At their tops, where branches and leaves should have been, these spires came to a jagged point. The towering growths rose from the ground toward a blinding blue-white ball in the sky.

  A low, electrical buzz issued from the hissing core—made up of mana, Glissa guessed—filling the interior of the plane, settling over all creatures and structures as if it were a blanket. It didn’t drown out
all other sounds, but it created a barrier that other sounds couldn’t escape. If Slobad or Bruenna were too far away, Glissa felt certain they wouldn’t hear her call their names. The sensation from this all-encompassing noise was odd but somehow comforting to the elf, as if in this wide-open space a little piece of it had been reserved just for her use.

  Above the interior “sun,” hanging from the ceiling, more of the pointed chrome monoliths jabbed downward. From where Glissa stood, the interior of Mirrodin looked like a rotting, toothy mouth, poised to bite down on the mana core at its center.

  The mossy carpeting continued from the lacuna, covering the ground and everything in its path. Here and there, straight patches had been seemingly stripped away, making lines on the ground like the veins of a leaf. In these openings, polished metal shone through, reflecting the light of the mana core overhead.

  In the far distance, a tall blue tower distinguished itself from the rest of its surroundings. It stood above the other pointed towers and ended in a rounded bulb at the top. Though all the other spires were covered at the base by the mossy ground covering, this one was not, and it shone brightly, reflecting the blue-white glow that touched everything.

  Looking out over this mythical world, Glissa became dizzy. She felt as if her brain were growing, as if it might burst from her puny skull. There was so much to take in, and none of it seemed to make any sense. The monsters her parents had spoken of in bedtime stories were now all suddenly real. A whole world existed inside her world—but that was impossible.

  “What is all of this?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “These tall chrome structures are called mycosynth,” replied Bosh. The metal golem lifted Bruenna, pointing with an outstretched finger at the shining structure in the distance. “That is called Panopticon.”

  “How do you know all this?” asked the human wizard suspended in his arms.

  “I used to live here—”

  Bosh’s explanation was cut short by a high-pitched wail. Slobad jumped up and down, pointing toward Panopticon, squealing.

  “Levelers! Levelers! Levelers!”

  Coming down one of the pathways, a mob of artifact creatures sped toward them. The levelers were sleek and curved, like giant metal prawns with killing blades for tentacles and spiked wheels instead of tail fins, which seemed to push them effortlessly through the sticky moss.

  At the front of the group, atop a modified leveler, rode a silvery manlike creature. From this distance, Glissa couldn’t make out much detail. Except for its reflective skin, the creature could have been an elf or a human from the outer world.

  “Run,” shouted Bruenna.

  “No wait,” replied Glissa. “If this place exists, it means Memnarch exists.”

  “And?” asked the impatient wizard.

  “And,” snapped the elf, “he’s responsible for the death of my parents.” She looked at each of her companions in turn. “This is my destiny. Eventually I’m going to have to face him, for good or ill.”

  Bruenna looked down from where she was being cradled in Bosh’s arms. Her face was pale. Sweat ran down her brow, and her eyes seemed sunken. Grimly she smiled. “You’re right.” She shook her head. “But if you try to confront him now, it’ll just get the rest of us killed.”

  “But—” started Glissa.

  “We don’t have time to argue about it,” said Bruenna, cutting her off as the levelers closed in. “We can avenge your parents and save the world another time. Right now, we have to go.”

  “Where?” Glissa turned. The vedalken hadn’t appeared in the lacuna yet, but she knew they were coming, and heading back up the tunnel would mean suicide.

  “This way,” said Bosh. “I remember another tunnel to the surface.”

  The metal golem took off at a run, charging away from the opening to the blue lacuna, the approaching horde of levelers, and the strange structure he had called Panopticon. Glissa grabbed Slobad by the arm and followed.

  They were running again. Glissa was tiring of running. Not even on the hunts in the Tangle did she remember running so much. An elf had her limits. She shrugged. She supposed she was about to find her own.

  Slobad struggled against Glissa’s grip, straining around to look behind him as they ran. “They’re gaining.”

  “Run faster!” shouted the elf.

  “He’s right.” Bruenna looked back over Bosh’s shoulder as he carried her. “Bosh, how far is it to this other exit?”

  “A long way.”

  The human wizard lifted her arms out to her sides and spoke a single word. Her hands flashed with a blue light. The open space between her upraised arms congealed into a silvery membrane, and Bruenna vaulted into the air.

  Hovering above Bosh, she said, “I guess we have no choice.” She looked at Glissa. “We stand and face your destiny after all.”

  * * * * *

  Malil rode atop a specially designed leveler. This beast had been outfitted with a set of steps and two curved handles. The metal man crouched over the killing device as if he were riding a dolphin. Gripping it with his knees, Malil didn’t so much steer the creature as tell it where to go. Through one of the handles, a magical conduit, the leveler could “hear” his thoughts, and it obeyed his whims. Absent this connection, the leveler would respond to his verbal commands, but that was less satisfying. Malil liked to simply think about where he wanted to go and let the beast take him there.

  The metal man had ridden from Panopticon at the head of a battalion. The leveler he rode was slower than the others since it carried his weight in addition to its own, and ultimately, he knew, it was he who held back the entire pack. Once they had the elf and her companions in sight, Malil gave the order.

  “Catch them,” he shouted to the levelers rolling along beside him. “Bring me the elf. Kill the others.”

  The killers took off ahead of their general. Malil nodded his approval. Soon he would have the elf in his possession, and he would fulfill his orders from Memnarch.

  The metal man leaned forward and watched his quarry grow nearer.

  * * * * *

  Glissa turned. The levelers were much closer than she had imagined them. She had seen these creations before, even fought them, but never had she been witness to so many collected together into one space. The sight was terrifying, and a shiver flushed down her spine, making all the skin along her back tingle.

  The metal beasts were close enough now that Glissa could clearly see the humanlike figure at their head. He was tall and thin, not clearly elf or human, and he wore a long blue robe that billowed out behind him as he rode his leveler forward. His shiny silver skin made the expression on his face hard to read, but Glissa thought he might be handsome were it not for the fact that he was charging toward her atop a killing device—the same sort of device that had taken her parents, her sister, and her best friend from her.

  The tingling sensation faded, giving way to a palpable anger that heated her blood and steeled her spine. She could feel her lip curl up and her eyes narrow. She didn’t even know who this silvery man was, but already she hated him. He had much to answer for, and if this were the fabled Memnarch, he had an enormous debt to repay.

  “Time to settle,” she said, lifting her hands high over her head and drawing green mana from the far-away Tangle. She was surprised how easily it flowed to her. The arcane energies flooded her body, and she felt strong.

  Bosh stepped in front of Glissa and Slobad, his hammering footfalls shaking both elf and goblin to the bone. Their big friend came to a stop, and the rumbling of the levelers replaced the pounding of the metal golem’s feet.

  For a moment, all four companions were silent, watching the approaching throng. Glissa took a deep breath, channeling the mana she held. Looking out at the charging artifacts, she singled out the closest. As she released her spell, the mana gushed down her arms, ripping across the open air in a green zigzag.

  The magic smashed headfirst into the oncoming leveler. The creature exploded
. Interlocking metal plates shot out at all angles. The animated device’s wheels spun off wildly, smashing into other levelers who simply ran over the dismembered parts of their one-time comrade without slowing down. The creature’s scythe blades flopped uselessly to the metal ground, tumbling end over end, then coming to rest.

  The levelers continued on, the silvery man unflinching.

  Over her head, Glissa watched a glowing blue orb race toward the horde. Bruenna, she thought. The spell struck a charging artifact, and its spiked wheels suddenly stopped spinning. The metallic beast shuttered, skidding sideways before coming to a halt. Another leveler plowed into the back of the stalled beast, knocking it over and getting tangled in its bladed arms and steering sail. The two creatures lay on the mossy ground in a heap, forcing the constructs behind to smash into them or drive around.

  Bruenna’s spell had caused a break in the advancing enemy line, and the once orderly artifact creatures now looked like a rioting mob.

  The first leveler closed in on Bosh, and the golem smashed it to smithereens. With one swing of his heavy fist, he bashed it flat. He swung his other fist. The shriek of metal bending and glass shattering followed a loud crash, and another of the artifacts went down.

  As the front line of levelers reached the companions, Slobad jumped atop the first one he encountered. Raising its scythelike blades, the leveler turned toward Glissa. Its spiked wheels tore up the ground, greedily eating up the space between itself and the elf.

  Holding onto its steering sail, the goblin pulled a narrow crowbar from his pouch. Jamming it between interlocking plates, he pried the device’s outer shell free, opening a hole large enough for him to stick his fist inside. Reaching in, the goblin tinkered with the leveler’s innards.

  Glissa watched it come, the goblin on its back. Seeing him dig into that artifact creature brought a smile to Glissa’s face. When it counted, Slobad was the bravest goblin on Mirrodin.