The Harp of Aleth (6 page)

Four Eyes? That’s a Quatroll… I’ve only ever heard rumours of them.
Tavia shrank back as a second Quatroll, on the other side of her, reached over her head to select a glowing metal blank from the press she was walking past.
Tzeentch created them in an effort to make Trolls more intelligent and productive.

The stench of overheated troll skin and white hot metal made her cough and splutter, but the Quatrolls didn’t seem interested in her.
Shouldn’t they be attacking me or something?

“Worry not, Dearling.”
The voice soothed her mind as she made her way into the depths of the workshop.
“The levels of protection I have woven over you since the day you were born will allow you to pass unhindered amongst these lowly creatures.”

That made her pause a moment. “You’ve been watching me since the day I was born?”
she gasped out loud, her voice echoing through the cavernous room.

“My Dearling. The stunning vixen that birthed you was one of my adherents. I gave her wealth beyond measure, enough that she could ensnare the most beautiful of men amongst the High King’s courtiers. Thus you received the perfection of your form, the wealth that funded your training as a Cavalier and the luck that propelled you into the arms of the High King.”

The voice felt closer now as Tavia threaded her way betwixt machine and Quatroll.
Why am I doing this? It feels wrong, but… it also feels as if I am doing something I dreamed a long time ago.

“You are very close now.”
She could now put a direction to the voice and the view that confronted her as she emerged from the ranks of machines was enough to stop her in her tracks.

At the very back of the room, a river of magma ran along the length of the wall, disappearing into a culvert at either end. Several large metal chambers were suspended above the river and pipes ran from them to the machines. Other pipes, beaded with moisture, ran from the ceiling into the chambers.

Must be the way they create steam.
Tavia looked around.
“Now where do I go?”

“Over the bridge and through the door,”
the voice told her.

Tavia watched, amazed, as a door opened in the back wall and a platform extended out from the doorway to bridge the magma. She stepped out onto it and walked across hurriedly, the heat of the magma drying any sweat instantly.

“That’s it child. Come into my parlour.”
The voice was closer and as Tavia stepped into the room, the door closed with a bang behind her.

* * *

A bell rang through the room at the top of the black tower, awakening the Aracan Katuvana from his slumbers with a start. He stood and rapidly approached the windows, selecting the Frazin Dungeon and searching for something on the map of the area.

The ancient goblin, moving far faster than his looks implied he could, carried the Jar into the room.

“What is it, Lord?” the Jar asked, as the goblin set it down on the pedestal beside the windows. “What was that alarm?”

The Aracan Katuvana ignored it, zooming in and sliding the map along with his leather gauntleted fingers until he found what he sought. The Jar watched as the Aracan Katuvana homed the map into the dungeon and focussed on one room just beyond the workshop.

“Where did that come from? I don’t remember there being…” the Jar faded into silence as the detail of the room was revealed, “...a temple; a tiny temple to the dark gods with a very large and detailed statue of Slaanesh, God of Hedonism at its centre. What is my brother up to?”

The Aracan Katuvana swung around to look at the Jar, which visibly shrank under his gaze.

“Uh… that is… what I mean to say is…”

The Aracan Katuvana shook his head and looked back at the window. A figure had joined the statue in the temple.

“That’s the cavalier.”

They watched as the woman walked over to the statue. Stepping back with surprise etched across her face, she bowed deeply to it and then stared up at it, her lips moving as she appeared to answer a voice only she could hear.

A soft red glow appeared around the statue and enveloped the woman’s body. She stiffened momentarily before sinking slowly to the floor, ecstasy blooming on her face and breathing quickening.

“He’s seducing her, gathering a following, but for what end?” the Jar said, its curiosity tinged with satisfaction. “This may make our job easier, Lord.”

The Aracan Katuvana grunted.

“Well, if she works for Slaanesh, then we will be able to…” the Jar blinked as the Aracan Katuvana changed the viewing window to look into the Lych Mistress’s boudoir. The lady herself lay sprawled upon her bed, a diaphanous silk robe covering her exquisite form. “She is as lovely in sleep as she is awake.” The Jar whispered to itself.

The Aracan Katuvana touched a symbol on the window ledge and a bell rang. Lady Lych stirred and stretched, then turned toward them.

“Dear, sweet Lord. Do you often watch your subjects sleeping?” she raised herself up onto an elbow.

The Jar opened its mouth to say something and the Aracan Katuvana motioned to it to be silent. The Jar frowned. A look passed between the Mistress and the Aracan Katuvana and almost instantly, the Jar understood.
The Aracan Katuvana is speaking to her privately. He’s never done that before. I wonder…

“But of course, my Lord. I shall assign Hezan to the case, he has a great deal of experience with the worship of Slaanesh and knows how to bring a new adherent into our fold.” She bowed her head gently and there was a gleam in her eye. “I assure you, there will be no mistakes this time.”

The grunt that the Aracan Katuvana made was heavy with sarcasm, but she seemed to hear something else. The Jar watched enviously as the Lych Mistress blew the Aracan Katuvana a kiss.

“Will my Lord let me in on his plan?” The Jar asked as the Aracan Katuvana blanked the window. He turned to look at the Jar.

From beneath the hooded robe, the Jar saw the Aracan Katuvana’s eyes narrow.
If I still had legs, I’d be scuttling backward as fast as I could! I haven’t seen a look like that since Khorne tried to kill Nurgle’s pet rabbit when we were young.

The Aracan Katuvana stepped up the dais to his throne and sat down, still glaring at the Jar. Then slowly and deliberately he shook his head.

“As my Lord Commands.” The Jar felt relieved. “Would my Lord like to monitor the progress of the other heroes in the Frazin Dungeon?”

A slight relaxation of the Aracan Katuvana’s grip on the throne’s arms and a harsh intake of breath were the only clues the Jar had to go on, but it smiled as it realised what had happened.

“As you wish Lord. Sleep well.”

* * *

“What was that?” Qin Dar asked, tilting her head.

“What was what?” Julissa frowned.
He’s taking a long time with this scouting mission.

“I thought I heard a door bang somewhere behind us.”

“It’s probably just Tavia being careless.” Julissa’s frown deepened. “Did she say where she was going?”

“Not that I remember.” Virrinel squatted on the floor, his nose twitching. “I smell danger everywhere in here, Julissa.”

“I know, but I have to find that Harp. It’s the key to winning the war against the Franierens,” Julissa griped. “I just wish I could trust the Cavalier to back us up.”

“We shall find it, my Lady.” Joran’s voice startled her and she jumped, turning to stare at the Blood Mage with hope in her eyes. “Did you discover the Harp’s whereabouts?”

“Nay. But I have discovered the locations of all the traps on the way to the treasury where the Harp should be.” He raised one hand to catch the little blood bat who fluttered into the space above his head. “It will be a simple matter to disarm them; some fool has linked them all to one Alarm Trap in front of a Guard Post manned by a pair of hell hounds. Trigger that, stay out of the way while the creatures swarm and…” his voice trailed away as a wailing scream echoed through the corridors.

“Sweet Goddess of Music! Quick, back into the Library,” Julissa hissed and led by example.

Qin-Dar followed her, looking back with concern. “What about Tavia?”

“If it’s her doing, then she shall taste my sword,” Virrinel growled, his hackles rising and giving him a menacing air.

Joran placed one hand on the autochthons arm.

“Steady, brother. Let us make sure our Lady is safe before we go looking for trouble.”

Virrinel nodded. “Good idea. You go with her; I’ll bring up the rear.”

Joran hurried down the corridor after the two women and Virrinel paced behind him, all his senses stretching out around him and his whiskers quivering.

As they reached the library doors, a squad of Demon Spawn clattered past the crossroads, their claws scraping on the paving. They were accompanied by sharp nosed hell hounds.

Luckily the hells hounds’ baying and barking covered Virrinel’s aggressive hiss.

“Virrinel! Get your tail inside this library,” Julissa whispered.

Reluctantly he did as he was told.

Before they shut the door, Joran fed the Blood Bat again and sent it out to keep an eye on the situation. He chose one of the chairs, sat down and closed his eyes. After a moment, he started recounting what was happening.

“It’s Tavia. She’s wearing some kind of strange armour and is fighting the creatures as they come into the guard post.”

“Is she getting hurt?” Virrinel asked, his whiskers still twitching.

“No. There appears to be a shield spell embedded in the armour. Good thing too, I don’t think armour like that would protect much of her body.” Joran chuckled. “Oh she just took out a pair of Dark Mistresses with one slice. That’s some sword she has there.”

Silence fell, punctuated by chuckles and gasps from Joran. Julissa’s face dropped further with every noise and Virrinel subtly put himself between his blood brother and his mistress.
I wouldn’t want Joran to get hurt before we get out of this place.

Finally, Julissa’s patience snapped.

“Ser Joran. If Tavia is keeping the creatures occupied, we should have a clear run down to the Treasury.”

Joran opened his eyes momentarily.

“That is true. I’ll send my little friend into the Training room as I believe that was the next port of call, and see if there’s anyone in there.”

“Good. Virrinel, move back out to the crossroads and keep watch. You know how to contact me if you see anything.” The Autochthon nodded grudgingly and left the room.

Qin-Dar sniffed the air as Joran shut his eyes again.

“I smell something wrong.”

“This whole place is wrong.” Julissa’s temper was not improving. “There weren’t supposed to be any creatures here. Tavia…” she trailed off and frowned. “How did Tavia get to the guard post and into that fight without us seeing her come past?”

“That’s what I smell. There is more than one dark force at work in this disgusting place.” Qin-Dar shook herself. “Let us get the harp and retreat to safety as fast as possible.”

Joran’s eyes snapped open.

“Excellent idea, Lady Qin-Dar. The way is clear to the training room and it is empty; even the guard post outside its south-eastern entrance is vacant.” He stood up and moved to the door. As he opened it, the blood bat fluttered in and landed on his shoulder, its mouth opening and closing in the same way as a dog would pant.

Qin-Dar looked at the bat.

“Ser Joran. I suggest that you leave your friend in here. He is too exhausted to do any more and needs to sleep.”

Joran nodded and tenderly picked the bat from his shoulder, setting the tiny creature on the topmost shelf of a nearby bookcase.

Julissa’s heart softened as she watched him feed the bat one last time.

“You can pick him up on the way out; this is probably the safest route back.”

The tiny bat flipped upside down to hang from the beam above the bookcase and wrapped its wings around itself.

Joran smiled at Julissa.

“Shall we continue in your quest, m’lady?”

They moved quickly along the library corridor to the crossroads where Virrinel waited.

“There is a lot of noise coming from that way.” The autochthon gestured up the north passage. “I haven’t seen anything else, not even a gremlin since those demon spawn and hell hounds went past.”

“Then we move as fast as possible.” Julissa darted out in front of him and was on the opposite side in seconds.

Virrinel cursed under his breath before motioning to Qin-Dar.

“You next, Lady Cleric.”

The Were-Unicorn nipped across to join Julissa, with Joran and Virrinel following closely behind.

Qin-Dar looked up the passageway. “It would appear that there are many traps along this route. Are you sure that you don’t want to go east to the Kitchen the way that Tavia had suggested?”

“No. I want to get the harp as quickly as possible.” Julissa said. “Going through the Training room is the fastest route.”

Virrinel grumbled. “The kitchen route would be safer.”