The Crucible of the Dragon God (36 page)

Kali nodded to Merrit Moon at a table further along the bar and then popped her head into the kitchen to see how Aldrededor was getting on. The Sarcrean had volunteered to cook, as everyone was heartily sick of Dolorosa's Surprise Stew after the batch she had prepared for Kali's memorial drinking session the week before.

"How goes it, Mister Pirate?"

Aldrededor looked up at her from the stove as he stirred, then bent, inhaling deeply from the cooking pot. "Ahhh, sproing, crackfish and limpods, everything the stomach of a true mariner could desire."

Kali smiled, and dipped a spoon for a sample. "At least you're willing to admit what's in it."

"Indeed. And in honour of these ingredients, I name it Seaman Stew."

Kali's smile froze, as did the spoon at her lips. "You know, Aldrededor. I might be tempted to have another think about that ..."

"Oh?"

"You know.
Think
about it."

"Why should I think about it, Kali Hooper?"

Kali stared at him as he stared at her, wondering whether he was going to crack a smile. "Well,
because
..." She shrugged when there was no response. Maybe pirates had a different sense of humour, she thought. Or maybe, more worryingly, it was just her.

"I'll get Slowhand to explain it. See you later."

She returned to the bar, noticed that Pim and his men were once more staring in expectant hope at the stairs, and looked up herself to see what had caused the creak this time. Still no Hells Bellies but, as the thieves slumped once more, she smiled, seeing the one person who had so far been missing from the festivities. Though she had given Slowhand Jenna's bracelet in the yassan caves the night before they had left for the Crucible, the archer - perhaps so as not to be distracted from the task at hand - had decided not to activate it until now, and had spent the best part of the day watching his sister's recordings over and over. She had, every now and then, gone up to check on him, but had never made it through the door, Jenna's voice speaking so gently to Slowhand - of their childhood together - that she had felt it improper to intrude.

"Hey," she said, "fancy a drink?"

Slowhand nodded and smiled.

"Except there doesn't seem to be anywhere to sit."

"Not a problem," Kali said. She moved over to the bar and nudged two of Sonpear's hovering companions, so that they floated off across the tavern, clearing two stools. There was a belch and a pink puff from the mage next to them.

"Want to talk about?" Kali said.

Slowhand took a sip of thwack. "If you're asking if I'm all right, Hooper, yes, I am. It's funny but, despite her conditioning, Jenna remembered more of our early years than I did myself. Maybe that's the reason she was able to resist as she did, by holding those memories close."

"I wish there could have been more," Kali said softly. She hesitated. "'Liam, I'm sorry about what had to be done."

"Don't be. I'd have done the same myself. Besides, it was me who gave the order, wasn't it?" Slowhand downed more beer. "I found her too late, Hooper, but in a funny way I also found her in time. She would not have wanted to be what she had become and at least I helped her... not be."

Kali studied Slowhand. He wasn't quite as calm as he seemed to be, that she could tell, but she didn't think the reason was Jenna herself. No, there was a tension in his face that was more anger than grief, and it didn't take much to realise who that anger was directed towards. She wouldn't like to be in Querilous Fitch's shoes when her lover found him.

"Can we talk about something else?" Slowhand asked.

"Sure," Kali said, signalling for two more drinks from Red. "For one thing, I never got a chance to thank you for coming after me at Andon. That was quite a stunt with Horse."

"Don't mention it."

"There's one thing I don't get, though. Horse. How'd you manage to get him out of his sick bed - sick stable, I suppose?"

Slowhand produced a small vial from his pocket. "Essence of worgle. Swiped it from one of the laboratories in the Crucible. Here, have it."

Kali took the vial. "I'll save it for emergencies."

"Don't give him any more than a drop, though. It makes him frisky."

Kali laughed but the sound was drowned out by a sudden clamouring from Jengo Pim and his men, the thumping of hands on table. She and Slowhand looked over and saw that they were staring at the stairs and, this time, with good reason. The Hells Bellies musicians were descending the creaking risers, and where musicians came the Hells Bellies themselves could not be far behind. Jengo Pim was on his feet now, his tongue hanging out, applauding loudly as a female leg appeared at the top of the stairs. The leg was followed by its owner and then the rest of the dancing troupe. And then Jengo Pim's applause stopped and the thief collapsed back into his chair, his arms hanging limp by his side. Seeing this, Kali almost choked on her thwack, because she had never seen a man look so crestfallen.

The reason for Pim's dramatic disappointment was the equally dramatic difference in the Hells' Bellies since he had last seen them. Because each of his beloved dancers must have shed at least twenty stone, the obvious result of a week's hoofing to stay the advance of the k'nid. They were now, Kali had to admit, really quite elfin, and their new stage costumes - made, it seemed, from the pockets of their old - while not making much of an impression on Pim, had certainly got the attention of the rest of the men in the
Flagons
.

The music started, the dancers began to dance, and the tavern
didn't
shake.

"At least the k'nid caused something good to happen," Kali said to Slowhand's back.

"What?"

"I said, at least the k'nid caused something good to happen," Kali repeated, cursing as Red poured beer over her hand. "Oh pits, Slowhand are you
listening
to me?"

The archer stared at the stage as the Hells' Bellies slithered provocatively through their old garters. "Of... course... I... am."

"Well, then - all that dancing," Kali persisted. "The dancing that stopped the k'nid?"

"Actually," Slowhand said slowly, "I don't think it was the dancing."

"What are you talking about? What else could it have been?"

"Remember that eerie wailing in the Crucible? The one that sounded like an old elven instrument ...?"

It took Kali a second to register what he meant, but then she stared at the Hells' Bellies, or rather the stage behind them where the musicians were beamingly strumming and fiddling away. One on his old elven instrument.

The theralin
?

Kali swallowed. "You think that I made them dance all week for
nothing
?"

"Yup."

"My Gods, they'll
kill
me."

"Ah well, never mind."

"What the hells do you mean, 'ah well, never mind'?" Kali protested. She looked towards the stage again, where the dancers were now slithering
two at a time
through their garters, a manoeuvre that evidently required them to slither rather slowly over each other as well. "Oh, fark it, you're not listening again, are you? ARE YOU?"

Kali shook her head and gave up. She grabbed her thwack and left the bar, debating whether to chance her arm in the bragging barrel while everyone else seemed occupied. But then she caught sight of Merrit Moon, the old man sitting exactly where she'd seen him last, alone at a table at the far end of the bar, and looking as if he wasn't enjoying the festivities at all.

No, she realised. It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying himself. He was concentrating on what was in his hand.

Ah. So that was it.

The fact was, the essence of worgle hadn't been the only essence that had been taken from the Crucible, she herself having removed a sample from that part of the laboratory that dealt with human specimens. And she had taken it to give to the old man. She didn't know whether it would be of any help to him, but she figured there had to be some link between the body-changing experiments at the Crucible and the Scythe Stone that had originally transformed Moon into the half-ogur he now was. The point was, she thought it might help him in his own experiments to find a full cure for himself - or thought it worth a chance anyway. But by the look of things it hadn't been.

"No good?" she asked, slipping into a seat opposite him and nodding at the vial he was rolling between his hands.

Merrit Moon looked up from it slowly.

"On the contrary, young lady. This essence is really quite potent, far more powerful in its capabilities than that responsible for my original condition. I imagine, in fact, that were I to imbibe it, it would effectively eradicate all ogur tendencies within my body."

Whatever answer Kali had been expecting, it wasn't that and she sat back, stunned.

"What? You're joking, right?"

"I wish I were. Because then I wouldn't be facing this dilemma."

"
What
dilemma? For pit's sake, it's what you've been looking for, old man. Knock it back! Hells, I'll even get you a brolly for it!"

"No. The time is not yet right."

"What the hells do you mean, not right?
Why?
"

The old man stared her straight in the eyes.

"Perhaps because there is something you're not telling me."

Kali tried her best to hold his gaze, swallowing slightly. "What's to tell? We won and the k'nid are gone or, at any rate, will be soon. Slowhand and I saw them starting to dissolve on the way here from Andon. And the
Tharnak'
s safe in the Expanse. Hells, Sonpear even told me that when the portal closed the Expanse reverted to a state of stasis, so the ship didn't even crash!" She smiled in a way she hoped would bring the conversation to an end. "Let's hope we never need it, eh, old man?"

"But we will, won't we young lady?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are you not telling me?"

Kali stood up. "Look, will you
stop
it. It's a day for celebration, so why don't we
celebrate
okay? Enough talk about the end of the farking world."

Moon raised his eyebrows. "Did I mention the end of the world?"

"No, but... oh, look, I don't want to hear any more - really I don't!" Kali shouted, much to Moon's surprise. "I mean, why me, why Kali Hooper, or whatever the hells my true name is? All I ever wanted to do was get drunk, find places and poke around in the dark. Instead, what do I find? That I'm some kind of demi-human, that you died and became some half-ogur
thing
, that Horse isn't a horse, that Slowhand's sister died, and now - now..."

Moon's surprise at the unexpected outburst turned into a look of concern. "Kali what is it?

"Steaming pits of Kerberos, old man, I'm twenty-three years old.
Twenty farking three!
I don't want the weight of the whole world on my shoulders!"

"Young lady ..."

"It just isn't fair!"

"Kali ..."

"
It isn't farking fair!
"

"Hey, hey, hey, what's going on?" Killiam Slowhand said, suddenly behind Kali and taking her by the shoulders. He turned her towards him, surprised to see the tears in her eyes. "Hooper?"

Kali thumped him on the chest, repeatedly, as he drew her close. "Godsdammit, Slowhand, this never ends!"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, what's the matter, what do you mean. We won didn't we? Didn't we?"

The old man nodded, but his face remained troubled. "This is about something else."

"What?" Slowhand asked Kali, softly. "What is it?"

Kali tensed in his arms but said nothing. And then, after a second, she broke away, grabbed some bottles from the bar and, without a word to he or Moon, headed outside, slamming the door behind her. Slowhand started to follow but Moon stopped him, spinning him around with a hand on his shoulder which, being half ogur, Slowhand could hardly resist.

"Leave her be," he said and then, after a few more moments, led him over to the bar, signalling drinks from Red. "So, young man. Why don't you tell me
exactly
what your intentions towards my protégé are..."

Outside, Kali leaned for a few seconds with her back against the door, catching her breath. The fact was, her reaction had surprised her as much it had the old man and Slowhand, but she guessed that a bellyful of thwack and the fact that what was on her mind had to out somehow was pretty much responsible for her uncharacteristic display. But what could she tell her friends? She knew full well that she couldn't have done what she'd done over the last few days without their help. So how could she tell them that it might all have been for nothing?

That's right
, she thought,
nothing
.

Gods, she had to talk to someone about this, didn't she? Or she would likely go insane.

Kali drew a deep breath and made her way to the top of the hill beyond the tavern, ignoring the syrupy rain. There, she pushed her way through a gap in the bushes into a small glade, wherein a solitary grave was illuminated by a flash of green lightning. The grave's headstone was carved with one simple word - Horse - and Kali touched it and smiled. It had become her habit to escape up here on the occasional night to tell Horse of the adventures she'd had since he'd been taken. And these chats were usually relaxed, meandering affairs, but the events of these last few days had left her hardly knowing where to start.

Kali slumped with her back to the headstone, cracked a bottle of flummox and began. She told him how the world -
her
world - had changed so much this past week that he would barely recognise it, and then she told him that what troubled her the most was that she had seen what the Old Races had ultimately been capable of, but that for all their greatness and the levels of technology, they had still been unable to stop whatever it had been that had wiped them out. And if
they
had been unable to prevent their extinction, then what hope did she and the others have of preventing theirs? Because the threat was as real to them as it had been to the Old Races, she knew that now. She knew that because she had finally realised why the dragon had taken them to the edge of the heavens - it had wanted to show them something. And that something had been a smudge on the side of the sun. With that realisation she had also worked out the purpose of the strange black sphere at the Crucible, the one that had once moved slowly forward on its straight tracks. It had done so because it wasn't a sphere, it was a
countdown
. A countdown the dwelf had obliquely referred to in the fading moments of his life.