The Gift of Volkeye (33 page)

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Authors: Marque Strickland,Wrinklegus PoisonTongue

BOOK: The Gift of Volkeye
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The crew disembarked then decided to split up. Felix, Phyllamon, and the soldiers (save for two who went with Murlach) took the elevator to the third floor. Meanwhile, Murlach and his two had gotten off at the mezzanine level. Upon reaching it they were overwhelmed by deafening explosions and gunfire coming from the landing platform on the first floor.

Murlach decided he would give this level a swift
‘once over’
before following his underlings. Terrified of being found and blown into the afterlife, he doubled his efforts, racing about fast as his little dwarf-like legs could carry him. He first found himself in their kitchen.

The design of this room was exceptionally beautiful, as Murlach had expected. He would’ve loved to linger in awe of the detailed artistry, but he thought better of such an act, as the battle would be venturing upstairs at any moment.

Murlach then ran in and out of Khyeryn’s room, disappointed still. Next, he ventured into Lyn’s chambers, but there was nothing useful here either.

Dammit!
he thought in frustration, looking for any loose material that he could take and study. So far, nothing had turned up.

Come now…there has to be something! What scientist or inventor is so confident that he doesn’t feel the need to keep records?

Murlach decided to catch up with his underlings. Perhaps he’d have more luck following them. Sure enough, as he crept through the hall, entering a corridor of the only room on the second floor that he had yet to explore, one of them ran up to him with just the news he wanted to hear.

“Master, we’ve found a library!

Excellent!
Murlach thought.

He swept by, racing to the shield entrance of the library, overwhelmed with curiosity at what he would find.

“Is there anyone in here?” he asked.

“Yes, Master. She ain’t gonna’ be a problem though…we’ll take care of her,” the underling said.

“Whatever you’re going to do, be quick about it!” Murlach commanded. “You’ll have no one to blame but yourselves if that weapon I heard from downstairs makes it up here in time to greet you!”

“Not one of ours, you think?” the soldier asked.

“Definitely not one of ours. Remember, I’ve watched you all in training, and I’ve
never
heard the like of the weaponry that’s downstairs firing right now! You’ve been warned.”

“We’ll be quick, Master, I promise.”

They entered, and Murlach instantly found himself overwhelmed. He looked past the flawless craftsmanship of the chamber, focusing on the towering shelves of books, filled with new volumes or old ones that were well preserved. He quickly began scanning the titles of the books nearest him. As he wasn’t human, seeing nearly as well in the dark, Murlach was grateful that he didn’t need to turn on the light, as he would’ve given their presence away.

His eyes landed on a row of numerous thick, leather-bound volumes. (They were Lyn’s favourites, so they’d been strategically placed at the center, a few rows from the bottom, to provide easy access for her.) Murlach scanned the titles, and they read:
“He of the Half-Blind Headdress”; “The Adventures of Inspector Batiyaij Murrogh”; “The Parable of Cerberus Fury and Baalberith Fear”; “The Blessed Son of My Tyrzah”; “Abygael Murzahy and the Beast Conjuring Misfits”; “The Legend of Orchis and the Five Sisters”; “Cannibals at Campsite 614”; “The Grim Reaping of Mercy Love”; “The Queen, the Artist, and the Loom of Destiny”; “The Magykal Loom and the Garments of Destiny”; “Alaeia, the Bull-keeper, and the Circle of DyNavah”; “Dove and the Embrace of the Adamarian Vampires”;
and
“The Brothel of Izahnvia.”
All of these were written by some character, named Wrinklegus PoisonTongue (as were many others in scattered clusters on separate shelves. Here, however, were the bulk of Lyn’s favorites.). Murlach vaguely recognized these fictitious tales, as he’d come across some of them years ago in Phyllamon’s library (that was, however, before Sing stole them).

Because he had no use for fiction, he withdrew from them and turned his attention to fifty or so, hardbound, black volumes that he found on the opposite side. His eyes widened as he grasped the one on the end and read the title:
“The Stupid, Childish, Bumbling Idiot, Fool Genius: An Autobiographical Journal of Discoveries, Mishaps, Daily Life, and Happy Accidents of Zynathian Volkeye—Volume 48.”

Murlach flipped to the middle of the book and began reading. This entry was very short.

“I’m fifty-one-years-old today…hooray! Khyeryn says that he, Lyn, and Teshunua have a surprise birthday gift for me, but that it’s a bit complicated and I’m not allowed to ask any questions about it. The only hint they’ll give is that it’s supposed to be something new for me to work on. (God knows I need a new project now, as I’m so used to working, having just finished one that took me twenty damn years! My goodness, I’m glad to be done with that!)

Today, I caught a few words while eavesdropping on the little buggers. My surprise, apparently, is something that they’ll bring to me soon. I’ve looked in all my books but found no references to anything called ‘Bahzee.’ Hmm?”

Murlach eagerly flipped ahead, reading more. He found some interesting sketches within the following pages, noting that Zynathian was a decent hand at drawing. One of the images showed a human body stripped of all of its flesh, displaying the ligaments and muscle tissue. The arm on the left was only drawn down to the deltoid, giving one the sense that it had just been lopped off by some razor sharp object. An inch beneath it was a drawing of the other portion of the arm, but it wasn’t human. The muscles, bones, and other carnal parts had been replaced by carefully rendered, mechanical matter of which Murlach had no understanding. Each mechanical ligament was labeled. He read the sloppy notes, jotted beside the drawing.

“Exhibits A, B, C, and D function perfectly with the corresponding human components. Exhibit E needs work…flexibility too limited to be useful for an adult man or woman. (Lengthen perhaps? Expand thickness as well? …Careful, if too thick, create a new flexibility problem!)”

Murlach’s eyes widened at his discovery. He’d found the very thing he most desired and exhaled with excitement. He slammed the book closed...

(...much more firmly than he’d intended!)

As the sound echoed throughout the room, he gasped, knowing that the girl would now be alert to their presence. No sooner than looking over his shoulder had the little one sprung out in front of them, blasting everything in sight.

Murlach watched in horror as the first of his underlings had three consecutive holes burn through the back of his head. As the dead beast slumped against the bookshelf, Murlach saw the other get shot in the throat. As the laser penetrated the back of his neck, his midsection was also detached from the waist down, ravaged by the same flurries of white heat. As Murlach watched this one’s top and bottom half land perpendicular to one another, he grabbed all the journals he could carry and raced through the door, narrowly escaping with his life.

As the shield closed behind, shutting out the sounds of continuous rapid fire, Murlach marveled at what he’d just witnessed.

Her arm…it can’t be!

As he raced down the corridor, exiting through the library entrance, he noticed that instead of the sound of heavy gunfire coming from below, they were now yelling for someone named
“Lyn Sha.”

He summoned the elevator, then pulled a light, empty canvas sack from his pocket and stuffed in the last nine volumes of Zynathian’s journals that he’d managed to grab. Murlach was startled by heavy footsteps to his left. However, it turned out to be his underlings. He figured that they must have gotten in from blowing a hole in the wall somewhere around the back, behind the library.

“Get back aboard the ship! As soon as I find Phyllamon, we must leave as quickly as possible!”

“Master, we can’t—the ships are being attacked by a gigantic bird…it shoots balls of fire from its eyes! We’d only just disembarked before turning to see it engulfed in flames. It was nearly the end of us all!”

Murlach, not having seen the bird, didn’t take this as serious as the others. He was more concerned with the problem at hand.

“Silence, you fool…listen! Any moment, a young girl with unspeakable power will emerge from that room, there. Following her will likely be a small army of some strange sort, coming up those stairs. Mind you, if they’re anything like what I just witnessed, you all are in for the fight of your lives!”

Murlach turned away from them.
Dammit, where is this elevator?
he thought impatiently, looking down the hall to the right. His heart skipped, as he found a stone archway with a winding staircase behind it. Murlach looked to his underlings with indiscreet selfishness.

“You all stay here and deal with the problem!”

With that said, he raced down the hall and up the stairs. Not a second after coming out through the archway on the third floor, did he hear the little girl’s weapon blasts from below. His pace quickened as he looked about, searching for Phyllamon. Not having a clue where he was going, he made several turns and found himself inside a magnificent chamber, housing thousands of mechanical beings of all shapes, sizes, and colours. They sat idle with their eyes and other buttons as dark as the night sky. Murlach imagined that when in operation, these buttons lit up in bright shades of red, yellow, blue, or green. He had momentarily forgotten what he was supposed to be doing, captivated by the spectacle before him. It even took him a bit to notice that the rest of Phyllamon’s squad was also here in this room, each of them carrying the same awestricken expression whilst exploring.

“Master, have you ever seen anything like this?” one of them asked.

Murlach was startled out of his trance at these words. Another beast continued.

“Several minutes ago, two rows of these things came to life and ran out!” he said, pointing to the empty spaces where about two dozen of Zynathian’s Mechs should have been.

“What? And you all let them get away! Who knows what terrors those things will unleash upon us? Blast! All of you, get downstairs and aid the others!” Murlach scolded.

He followed them out, and as more gunfire echoed up the stairwell, he renewed his search for Phyllamon with fervor.

This floor was much larger and more spacious than the second, and again Murlach dismissed its luxury entirely, as he ducked in and out of several bathrooms and bedrooms. (In one of the chambers, he found Felix, curiously scrutinizing something that looked like a photograph. Murlach left the boy to his business.)

Finally, in the farthest corner, he came upon Zynathian’s new lab and workshop, knowing that Phyllamon had to be within, for he’d checked all other possibilities. As Murlach pressed an oval green button, commanding the shield open, he was yet again taken with shock at what lie before him.

16

Jay and Maugrimm cut hard to the left, entering the castle at a death threatening speed. As Jalum inclined his wings, cuffing the wind and coming to a jarring halt, Maugrimm leapt off his back and joined the others.

“Where’s Lyn Sha and Zynathian?” he asked, noticing that their number was minus two.

“Daddy’s in the control room…we don’t know where L-”

Khyeryn was cut off as he heard a cry from above, followed by the sound of Lyn’s weapon.

“Heeeeelp!” she wailed, exiting the library’s hallway entrance.

Her voice was drowned out by gunfire. Again, Lyn sprayed everything in front of her, this time directly witnessing the havoc wrought by her weapon, up close.

One of them had his shoulder blacken as she blew off his arm. Lyn aimed to the left, unleashing a flurry of shots across his comrade’s torso. His ally’s blood had sprayed on his good arm. In the last moment of his life, he looked to see what was becoming of the others, only to be further stricken by the sight of the girl’s lasers burning through their armour, severing limbs and all else that they touched. Even the castle didn’t stand a chance, its bricks being defaced, once blast after another. Finally, shrapnel from the wall, behind, ran through the back of the beast’s skull, putting him out of his misery.

At last, Lyn stopped firing. Despite Murlach’s warning to the soldiers, she’d still been too fast and too powerful. This group never even had the chance to raise their weapons.

The sight before Lyn was so gruesome that she almost couldn’t believe it was her work. The hallway was nothing but a pile of fragments and severed limbs with but a few bodies fully intact. It was an incredibly surreal moment, and her eyes fluttered about the carnage-strewn hall, widening every second. (Several months from now, when she happened across
Brisingr
, one of her favourite books, Lyn would think to herself:
That’s what Roran Stronghammer must’ve felt like after slaying nearly two hundred men!
)

She was abruptly shaken out of the moment when she heard the others calling from behind.

“Lyn Sha!”

Not a moment later did a dozen troops appear at the opening to the winding stairwell to her right. This time it was Lyn who was taken by surprise as shots rang out and a welt of sizzling skin rose across her belly. Grimacing in pain, she suddenly realized that she’d left her armour on the sofa in the library. Instead of running, she turned and leapt away, landing on the first level, next to the main control.

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