"Beneath the Cities of Men"
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dochermes"Beneath the Cities of Men"
11/16-11/17/2007
I.
Two women stepped out an alley in a bad part of town. Zarithen was well into middle age, a bit bent, a bit grey. She wore loose pants and long-sleeved blouse of tan cloth, with a wide-brimmed hat. Over one shoulder was slung a small knapsack and a leather purse was tied to her waist sash. Few observers would have noticed her, though, simply because she was standing next to Valera.
Her bright blue uniform of snug tunic and pants, with its white trim and red boots was striking in itself but Valera would have caught the eye no matter what she wore. The Melgar princess was tall, just under six feet, and slim but athletic in build. She had rich yellow hair loose around her shoulders, and sky-blue eyes in a beautiful face. Valera carried a large trunk in one hand and a duffel bag in the other, and strapped across her back was a leather sheath holding something longer than she was tall. As they stepped from the alley into the morning sunlight, Valera flashed her dazzling smile at her companion.
"Welcome to the Human world," she said. "You have not been here before, my dear, it is larger than all the adjacent realms combined."
Zarithen took a good look before answering. "Busy it is, and noisy. You told me of these carriages that roll without horses to pull them. And you told me I would see Humans of every color and size, so these do not surprise me. But why do these folk hurry so?"
"It is their nature," Valera answered. "Come. Follow me."
"Yes, princess." Zarithen tagged along behind the boldly striding Valera as they walked east along 34th Street. They paused before the Hotel Lanchester, a modest establishment that stood opposite the Empire State Building. "This will do," Valera decided, marching through the double glass doors and across a lobby of white tile and marble. At the desk, a smiling young man greeted them, eyeing Valera with appreciation he could not quite hide.
"We shall need rooms for a few days. Say, one week." Valera put down the trunk she was carrying and reached inside her leather belt to take out a small billfold. In it was an American Express Card and driver's license made to "Valerie Androval." She had been in the world often before and came prepared. Also in that billfold was five hundred dollars in fifties and twenties, a Visa card and an ID for an account at the Chase Manhattan bank.
As a bellboy hurried up to help, he grunted in surprise at how heavy the trunk was that Valera had been carrying with one hand. She let him struggle with it. It was best not to give away just how powerful she really was. They made their way to the bank of elevators, rode up to the 18th floor and were shown into a luxurious suite with tall windows that let in the morning light. Valera thanked the boy and gave him a tip, while Zarithen looked over the rooms.
"This is suitable for one of your station, princess," she conceded almost grudgingly.
Valera smiled and wandered about. "Ah, I have camped in deserts and jungles and barren mountains in my day. Many a night I had no blanket to pull over me and my forearm was my pillow." She showed her old nurse the bathroom and demonstrated how the toilet and shower worked.
"I am impressed with Human ingenuity," Zarithen said, almost to herself. "But I do wonder why we do not bring such devices to our own realm."
"It is not the Melgar way. To be frank, we are slow to change our customs and we have not changed much since the Darthan Age." Valera picked up the remote and turned on the TV to CNN. As Zarithen stared hypnotized at the screen, Valera put away their luggage. She glanced over and smiled at her nurse watching the dancing candy bars during a commercial.
"Zarithen!" Valera said sharply. "These are my words. You are not to leave these room except in extreme emergency such as fire. Do you hear and obey?"
The older Melgar bowed her head. "Yes, my princess."
"Here in this mechanical icebox I have placed fruit, bread and cheese. This is dried meat and here are bottles of wine. The water from this sink is fit to drink. I do not plan to be gone long but if I am, pick up this instrument" and here she demonstrated with the phone by the bed, "and ask for 'room service.' Order what food you want, it will be charged. Do you understand?"
"I do, princess. But may I not go with you?"
"No. I want you here. I may call this phone if I have instructions or if I need help. It is important that you stand by and do your part." Valera's tone softened. "I count on you as I always have, my friend and comrade."
Zarithen bowed low and went to sit on the low couch, Despite herself, her eyes went to the TV which now showed a singing couple in front of three judges. Valera smiled, and took a white topcoat from her baggage. Removing the scabbard from her back, she put on the coat and strapped the seven foot sheath over one shoulder again. Long years of practice let her move about without awkwardness from the weapon she carried always. Valera tied her long blonde hair in a ponytail with a twist of blue silk, patted her pockets and glanced in the mirror. At the door, she waved to Zarithen and went out toward the elevator.
Out on the street, the Melgar woman got her bearings and headed east. She did not feel out of place anymore, having traveled in the real world in her time, and she strode confidently toward Third Avenue, then swung left up to 44th Street. Here was the building she had been told to find. It was only four stories high, of yellow brick, with a sign on a stand listing the businesses within. Between "EMERGENCY ONE- WALK-IN CLINIC" and "SPA HIGHLAND" was "DIRE WOLF AGENCY." Valera nodded and headed toward the glass doors but hesitated. Long decades of adventure had given her a sense when things were amiss. She walked past the building and peered into the narrow alley between it and the next, taller structure.
There was the man she had come to see, his arms raised as he faced three men with guns in their hands.
II.
The princess walked toward them with remarkable composure. There was even a faint smile on her lips. One of the gunmen saw her and swung to cover her. The other two glanced briefly but kept their attention on the man between them. Jeremy Bane looked the same as when she had last seen him nearly twenty years earlier. He was still a tall, gaunt man with black hair and grey eyes, still wearing the same uniform of black slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket he always did. There was a grey hair here and there and faint lines around the mouth, but he was the same Dire Wolf she had followed into battle without hesitation. As he saw her, his face lit in a very rare grin. "Hello, princess. Nice to see you."
"Captain," she said, walking right up to the nearest gumman. He extended his arm full length and she snatched the revolver from his grip easily. As all four men watched, she crumbled that pistol in her hand without effort, breaking it into bits and pieces which fell with a clatter to the alley floor.
Valera smiled at Bane. "Am I interrupting?"
"Not at all." seeing the two gunmen near him were staring in horrified fascination at the blonde woman, the Dire Wolf stepped toward one and blasted a backfist that spun him around and lunged to nail the other one with an elbow to the face from the same arm. Bane was as fast as ever, much quicker than a normal man, and both his opponents hit the ground at the same time. The gunman near Valera turned as he glimpsed the motion and she seized him by the back of the neck, lifting him and holding him off the ground with one hand.
Bane bent to pick up their guns. He saw the Melgar woman hoisting the third man and said, "Oh, I don't need to question him, princess." Valera smacked the man on the side of his head with her free hand, being careful not to kill him, then dropped him in a heap.
"How about you crush these, as well? That made an impression on them." Bane handed her the guns and she complied by breaking them with her hands. He glared at the three forms in the alley. "They were wasting my time with empty threats. Leave them there. If someone calls the cops, just as well-- let these mugs explain their business."
"Captain, I come here for a reason," Valera said. "But it IS good to see you again. I am only sorry my father tries to keep me in Androval."
"Come in my office and we'll talk," he said as he led her into the building. "The last I heard, he was trying to marry you to some baron and produce a few heirs."
Valera snorted. "Poor luck has he had with that! Sooner or later, I know I must do my duty and bear some brats for the throne but we Melgar are long-lived and I have much to do before then." She followed him down a narrow hall, through a small waiting room, and into his office. She glanced at his desk with two chairs before but went to drop down on the couch instead. "I come not as a client seeking rescue but as a comrade."
Bringing over a straightback chair, Bane sat facing her and said, "True enough. What's up, Princess?"
"Trolls! I know you have fought them before. The bad blood between we Melgar and the Tunnel-dwellers goes far back and is bitter indeed. But let us agree that they are mere nuisance rather than a real menace. Or they were!"
"What changed?" Bane asked.
"Grum. He is something new, a warlock Troll. Never has one of them shown any knowledge of the Forbidden Arts. They are mere brutes, not much more aware than the animals of the field. But Grum is different. He has skill in magick. We know he can open tunnels in the earth and tunnels between the realms. I believe he had come here with a company of perhaps twenty Fighting Trolls and as many Diggers, to scout out this world."
The Dire Wolf scowled. "That's got to be stopped. Here and now. We have enough problems without Trolls. You didn't go to the new KDF first?"
"No." Valera leaned back and stretched, raising her arms up behind hdr. She knew she was beautiful but did not take that into account with Bane. They had saved each other's lives more than once and had a bond of comradeship stronger than mere physical attraction. "I do not know them. They are not MY team. I came to you."
"All right. Let's get to work. You know about the subway attack?"
"Yes. My father keeps a few Melgarin living in this city as Humans, bringing any news in the Midnight War to the throne. Not spies, just reporters. I know six people are missing."
Bane stood up. "We'll need my car. You have a place to stay while you're here?"
"I am registered at the Hotel Lanchester on 34th. My servant Zerathen stands by in our rooms."
"Good," Bane said as he turned and led her from the office. He already was wearing the silk-thin Trom armor under his clothes, as he already had the two silver daggers on their sheaths on his forearms and a regular .38 Smith & Wesson was holstered behind his left hip. With Valera at his side, he turned left on the sidewalk and walked briskly four blocks south to the Imperial Garage. As he checked the security devices on his silver Toyota Matrix, Valera watched him with affection.
"You have not changed much in almost twenty years, captain. I thought you would be older looking."
"I guess the tagra diet helps with that. But you know, I don't drink or smoke and I stay in shape." He unlocked the doors and slid in behind the wheel. Valera placed her sheathed weapon in the back and got in the passenger seat. Bane went out the ramp to the street and headed south.
"There have been some funny events lately," Bane said. "I try to keep track of these things. A house on Long Island collapsed and killed everyone inside. It was like a sinkhole had opened but there was no sinkhole in the area. There have been an unusual numbers of missing persons lately. Strange little robberies at night... radios, first aid kits, blankets. And then what the newspapers called the Horror On the Subway." He glanced at her as he pulled into an open spot. "I think I see a pattern now. The presence of Trolls explains some of this."
As they got out and walked to the 14th Street station, a cold wind blew over them. It was only a week until Thanksgiving but it felt like winter had settled in. Valera had strapped her weapon on again. The two went down the steps and stood on the nearly deserted platform, which had been opened again a few days after the incidents when the police had to admit there was nothing to find. Two women stood waiting for a train, looking about nervously and drawing back from Bane and Valera. Off to one side was a fat man in a suit, arguing with his cell phone.
"It's usually busier than this," Bane said. "Last Sunday, at 4:20 in the morning, six people disappeared here. The blood has been scrubbed away, the stray bits of clothing are in the labs." He spoke in a low voice. "I've seen the security tapes. They are blurred and fogged, a sure sign of gralic energy but big apelike shapes grabbed the people and wrestled them away. Now that you mention Trolls, I'm sure that's what they were but I was uncertain. There, by the pillar, is where everyone vanished."
Valera knelt, then got down on her knees and touched a discolored area about eight feet across. "Yes. My skin crawls. There has been terror here. I told you Grum can open tunnels through solid matter, instant tunnels that close up when he is done. He has been here. This was his work. See, this darkened circle." She turned her face up toward him. "My captain, it is clear to you why these Kumtogogim wanted those people?"
"Oh yes," he said. "Trolls live mostly on mushrooms and small game they trap on the surface. But their favorite food walks on two legs."
The Melgar princess shrugged off her burden from her back and held it out before her, unwrapping the leather covering on the end to reveal a spearblade, wide as a spread hand, engraved with the outline of a rearing horse. In the dim light of the subway, the ensalir metal shimmered. "See how Brightbolt shines but faintly? Evil has been here but is not here now. The Eldar craft that went into my weapon still does its work. The Trolls are not near."
"Logically, our next step is other locations I suspect our little friends have been," Bane said.
"Lead on. Strange it is for me to follow any man's orders," she smiled. "My father and the court say I was born with a stiff spine."
Bane headed up the stairs to the street. "I think we should skip the stores that were robbed. I have a hunch the Trolls would be more comfortable outside the city itself, where they can make tunnels in dirt. Let's start neae that house that collapsed on Long Island."
"Very well then," the Melgar woman agreed. "If we are too late to help the people who suffered here, surely we may still avenge them."
III.
By late afternoon, it was getting dark as they arrived on the north shore of Long Island, two hours from Manhattan. Bane drove up a long dirt road marked PRIVATE PROPERTY and stopped at a pile of debris that had been a house. The yellow police tape still encircled the ruin. Getting out, Valera unwrapped the spearhead and the barb glistened as if out in bright sunlight. "You know what this means, my captain," she said sternly. "Battle is near." She threw her white topcoat in the backseat of the car and unwrapped the spear entirely. Brightbolt, Shai Tazam in the ancient language, was over six feet in length, a polished oak shaft with a razor-edged blade. That metal was ensalir, silver which had been ensorcelled by the immortal Eldarin. The butt end and half way up the shaft were wrapped in leather strips for a better grip. With the spear in hand, Valera stood straighter and her face lost its usual good nature to settle in sterner lines.
For his part, Bane opened the car trunk and threw his sport coat in there. He took out a heavy waist-length field jacket that had its own inner layer of armor. He replaced his revolver with a clunky airgun that fired resonance caps, and he lowered a visored helmet over his head.
"That is the Dire Wolf I remember," she said.
Bane handed her a large flashlight on a lanyard. "I want you to carry this. Spare batteries are taped around it. My visor has light enhancers but I will bring a flashlight for me also. And I have some flares here."
"Wise indeed, against creatures of darkness. But how will we go after these beasts?"
"We'll make them come to us," answered Bane. He began walking in a circle, stamping his feet and Valera followed. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. The Dire Wolf began to feel foolish and wondered if he should think of another approach.
Then a section of the lawn trembled and rippled, grass and dirt suddenly disappearing as a circular hole ten feet across opened up. A dark hulk heaved up in the gloom, bigger than a man, and it rose to its feet as Valera lunged in. She swung her spear in a horizontal arc, its keen edge slicing through the Troll's neck as if through air. The brute's head was not completely severed, but hung by a flap of skin as it sagged to the dry grass.
Bane was already racing for the hole. "Get in before it closes!" he barked and dove in headlong. Valera followed. They tumbled down a sloping incline of dirt that leveled off to form a clear space high enough to stand up in. With his visor down, the Dire Wolf could see clearly and he rushed at two of the smaller Digging Trolls waiting there. His arms flashed out and back, and they both fell dead. He bent to clean the silver daggers on their rough kilts. As he sheathed his weapons, Valera thumbed on her flashlight and its bright beam illuminated the area. A single tunnel wide enough for them to walk single file extended down at an angle that could be walked without slipping. Bane went first.
As they descended, every sense keyed up and wary, Bane thought about the Trolls. He realized he really did not know enough about them. They were one of the original Seven Races, the Cousins of Man, going back to the Darthan Age thirty thousand years ago. They had been modified by Tollinor Kje for a subterranean existence. But they were not much involved with the other Races. They had no realm of their own, but were found lurking everywhere Humans had settled. He glanced up at the walls of the tunnel they were walking down. The walls had a gooey patina. What were they coated with? Saliva? The air was stale and musty but breathable. There must be ventilation shafts going to the surface at intervals. What did they do with all the dirt they displaced? Dump it somewhere? Bane realized he had never seen a female Troll. Were they kept segregated? Did they look just like the males?
He spotted a side tunnel to the left and approached it cautiously. There were bones in there. He recognized Human skulls and ribcages and realized the families of the missing people would never know what had happened. Now he could not let any Trolls escape. They must not set an example for others to come to the real world and regard Humans as prey.
Ahead, faint noises of digging and breathing sounded. Bane reached behind him and touched Valera on the arm. She hissed softly. They stepped into an arena easily a hundred feet across, with a high ceiling supported by pillars of hardened earth. A dozen Diggers shrank back in fear and confusion at the glare from Valera's flash. Their eyes could see into the infra-red but had trouble adjusing to bright light. These were how most Trolls looked, five feet tall and broad, maybe a hundred and fifty pounds. They had tawny yellowish skin and lambent red eyes. Their feet and hands were disproprtionately large and wide, with flat talons.
Bane stared at them coldly. These were workers, mere drones, not the warriors. About a third of the workers experienced a growth spurt and became Fighters. But even these Diggers were still cannibals and killers, and they could not be allowed to escape to tell others of their feast. For once, Bane was taken by surprise as something tackled him from behind and brought him tumbling forward. Bane rolled and kicked his attacker off him with both legs, jumping up into a ready stance. The Troll rushed at him, swinging a stone-headed war hammer. Bane diverted it with an outward block of his left arm and stepped in to slam a straight punch to the face with his right. That blow would have killed any Human it hit and even the Troll was stopped short. He brought the hammer around in a wide horizontal slash at head height that Bane ducked under. The Dire Wolf stepped to the side outside the hammer blow and threw a left cross with all his speed and strength that twisted the Troll's head around on his neck.
As his attacker drew back in surprise at the way his intended prey was putting up a fight, Bane got a good look. It made no sense. This was a Fighting Troll in appearance... the massive shoulders, thick arms and legs covered in black hair, the conical skull and jutting fangs. But he was no bigger than a good-sized man, a few inches over six feet tall and under three hundred pounds. Where Fighting Trolls were huge but sluggish, this one was as quick as a Human and much stronger.
The Troll twirled his massive hammer and brought it up behind him in preparation for another attack. From behind him, a deep growling voice said, "Stand back, Skur. Do you not know who you face?"
Bane and Valera stared as one of the Digging Trolls stepped forward, but this one was very different from the others. He wore a sleeveless tunic of coarse white cloth, belted at the waist and he carried a sceptre of red metal in one hand. His face sjowed a crafty intelligence not seen in the others. A simple circlet of beaten gold was worn like a crown on his head.
The Melgar woman spat a single word, "Grum!"
"Hah! I am getting the reputation I deserve, it seems. Oh, the famous warlike Princess of Androval. And the Dire wolf. Nice additions to the menu. Yes, I am the one and only Grum, the first warlock of my Race. And my friend here is Skur, you will get to know him. Like me, he is an anomaly, a Fighting Troll who reached Human stature and stopped. So he is nimble and quick but strong. Quite a combination of traits. I don't think there has ever been a warrior quite like him."
Bane demanded, "Where did you learn magick, Grum? Who was your teacher?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" was the insolent answer.
"I suppose it doesn't..." Bane began but was cut off as Skur attacked abruptly. Without telegraphing his moves, he pounced forward and the huge stone-headed hammer whistled right at Bane's head. The Dire Wolf dropped below it and kicked the back of the Troll's ankle in a spinning sweep. The brute fell off-balance and caught a side kick to the jaw that sounded like an axe cutting wood. In the same motion, Bane jumped up and came down with an elbow to the chest. Amazingly, Skur ignored that impact and threw a simple roundhouse swing that Bane could not quite avoid. It spun him to one side in a loose cartwheel and Skur leaped for his hammer.
Three explosions detonated in a quick succession, deafening in the enclosed space. The impact of those resonance caps broke bone where they struck and Skur spun around to fall face down in the dirt. Getting up to his feet, Bane lowered his airgun and shrugged at Valera. "I could have slugged it out all day with him, but honestly what's the point?"
Valera nodded and spun her great spear so its point was threatening Grum. "Indeed, there is no honor in combat with these brutes."
The warlock Troll stepped aside as the tunnel behind him was filled with twenty Fighting Trolls. Seven feet tall and wide enough for a man to hide behind, they stomped furiously forward. Valera leaped to meet them. Like her famous cousin Sulak, her body was reinforced with gralic energy and had strength too great to measure. With the Eldar spear Brightbolt in her hands, she began to plow through the giant brutes. It was mere slaughter. Heads flew off, arms and legs spun away. She was covered in blood within seconds. After the spear became stuck in a torso, Valera let it go and met the remaining Trolls with her fists. The sounds of her blows was like whips cracking. Behind her, the Dire Wolf lit a flare and tossed it where its crackling light filled the cavern.
One of the Fighters ignored her and stomped toward Bane, getting too close for him to use the airgun. A resonance cap at point-blank range would backfire. The Dire Wolf leaped to one side, just escaping the grasping paws, pivotted and brought the butt of his gun right at the nape of that thick neck with all his strength. The Troll fell to his knees. Picking up the stone hammer that Skur had dropped, Bane grunted at its weight but managed to lift it and bring in down with a mushy-sounding thump on the back of the Troll's crest. The hammer stuck in the skull and he abandoned it.
Bane turned to see Valera tugging her spear free. Not much of her was not spattered in blood and her silk uniform was ripped mostly off. Her blue eyes were dangerously bright with excitement and for the barest instant he thought she might attack him next. "Princess! Are you all right?" he asked.
She laughed gleefully. "Oh, Jeremy. If you only knew how many Melgarin I have avenged this night! The souls of my people can rest easy now. They have been avenged and right properly. So have your own people who were taken from that subway!"
Bane looked around. "Damn. Princess, see who's missing?"
The grin ran away from her face. "Oh no."
"Grum got away. I should have thought of that. His very power is opening tunnels, after all. When we catch him again, we can't give him a second or he'll escape again. And looks like he took his pal Skur with him."
Valera was trying to wipe thick black blood from her face but her hands were covered with it. Bane took a small first aid kit from his jacket and handed her a few alcohol swabs. She got her face and hands more or less clean, and her expression was rueful.
"We'll find both of them," Bane promised. "Right now, our worry is getting out of these tunnels. One of them must lead up to the surface."
"I have no doubt we will find our exit," she said. "With my strength, I can open even the smallest air vent to get us out. Let's get started." She looked down ruefully at her exposed upper body, where only tatters hung from her arms and across her torso. "I am half naked, captain. If my friend Zarithen were here, she would be appalled at what you are allowed to see."
Bane mustered a smile. "When we get to my car, I'll give you a spare shirt I keep in my knapsack. What Zarithen doesn't know won't horrify her."
5/5/2013f
11/16-11/17/2007
I.
Two women stepped out an alley in a bad part of town. Zarithen was well into middle age, a bit bent, a bit grey. She wore loose pants and long-sleeved blouse of tan cloth, with a wide-brimmed hat. Over one shoulder was slung a small knapsack and a leather purse was tied to her waist sash. Few observers would have noticed her, though, simply because she was standing next to Valera.
Her bright blue uniform of snug tunic and pants, with its white trim and red boots was striking in itself but Valera would have caught the eye no matter what she wore. The Melgar princess was tall, just under six feet, and slim but athletic in build. She had rich yellow hair loose around her shoulders, and sky-blue eyes in a beautiful face. Valera carried a large trunk in one hand and a duffel bag in the other, and strapped across her back was a leather sheath holding something longer than she was tall. As they stepped from the alley into the morning sunlight, Valera flashed her dazzling smile at her companion.
"Welcome to the Human world," she said. "You have not been here before, my dear, it is larger than all the adjacent realms combined."
Zarithen took a good look before answering. "Busy it is, and noisy. You told me of these carriages that roll without horses to pull them. And you told me I would see Humans of every color and size, so these do not surprise me. But why do these folk hurry so?"
"It is their nature," Valera answered. "Come. Follow me."
"Yes, princess." Zarithen tagged along behind the boldly striding Valera as they walked east along 34th Street. They paused before the Hotel Lanchester, a modest establishment that stood opposite the Empire State Building. "This will do," Valera decided, marching through the double glass doors and across a lobby of white tile and marble. At the desk, a smiling young man greeted them, eyeing Valera with appreciation he could not quite hide.
"We shall need rooms for a few days. Say, one week." Valera put down the trunk she was carrying and reached inside her leather belt to take out a small billfold. In it was an American Express Card and driver's license made to "Valerie Androval." She had been in the world often before and came prepared. Also in that billfold was five hundred dollars in fifties and twenties, a Visa card and an ID for an account at the Chase Manhattan bank.
As a bellboy hurried up to help, he grunted in surprise at how heavy the trunk was that Valera had been carrying with one hand. She let him struggle with it. It was best not to give away just how powerful she really was. They made their way to the bank of elevators, rode up to the 18th floor and were shown into a luxurious suite with tall windows that let in the morning light. Valera thanked the boy and gave him a tip, while Zarithen looked over the rooms.
"This is suitable for one of your station, princess," she conceded almost grudgingly.
Valera smiled and wandered about. "Ah, I have camped in deserts and jungles and barren mountains in my day. Many a night I had no blanket to pull over me and my forearm was my pillow." She showed her old nurse the bathroom and demonstrated how the toilet and shower worked.
"I am impressed with Human ingenuity," Zarithen said, almost to herself. "But I do wonder why we do not bring such devices to our own realm."
"It is not the Melgar way. To be frank, we are slow to change our customs and we have not changed much since the Darthan Age." Valera picked up the remote and turned on the TV to CNN. As Zarithen stared hypnotized at the screen, Valera put away their luggage. She glanced over and smiled at her nurse watching the dancing candy bars during a commercial.
"Zarithen!" Valera said sharply. "These are my words. You are not to leave these room except in extreme emergency such as fire. Do you hear and obey?"
The older Melgar bowed her head. "Yes, my princess."
"Here in this mechanical icebox I have placed fruit, bread and cheese. This is dried meat and here are bottles of wine. The water from this sink is fit to drink. I do not plan to be gone long but if I am, pick up this instrument" and here she demonstrated with the phone by the bed, "and ask for 'room service.' Order what food you want, it will be charged. Do you understand?"
"I do, princess. But may I not go with you?"
"No. I want you here. I may call this phone if I have instructions or if I need help. It is important that you stand by and do your part." Valera's tone softened. "I count on you as I always have, my friend and comrade."
Zarithen bowed low and went to sit on the low couch, Despite herself, her eyes went to the TV which now showed a singing couple in front of three judges. Valera smiled, and took a white topcoat from her baggage. Removing the scabbard from her back, she put on the coat and strapped the seven foot sheath over one shoulder again. Long years of practice let her move about without awkwardness from the weapon she carried always. Valera tied her long blonde hair in a ponytail with a twist of blue silk, patted her pockets and glanced in the mirror. At the door, she waved to Zarithen and went out toward the elevator.
Out on the street, the Melgar woman got her bearings and headed east. She did not feel out of place anymore, having traveled in the real world in her time, and she strode confidently toward Third Avenue, then swung left up to 44th Street. Here was the building she had been told to find. It was only four stories high, of yellow brick, with a sign on a stand listing the businesses within. Between "EMERGENCY ONE- WALK-IN CLINIC" and "SPA HIGHLAND" was "DIRE WOLF AGENCY." Valera nodded and headed toward the glass doors but hesitated. Long decades of adventure had given her a sense when things were amiss. She walked past the building and peered into the narrow alley between it and the next, taller structure.
There was the man she had come to see, his arms raised as he faced three men with guns in their hands.
II.
The princess walked toward them with remarkable composure. There was even a faint smile on her lips. One of the gunmen saw her and swung to cover her. The other two glanced briefly but kept their attention on the man between them. Jeremy Bane looked the same as when she had last seen him nearly twenty years earlier. He was still a tall, gaunt man with black hair and grey eyes, still wearing the same uniform of black slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket he always did. There was a grey hair here and there and faint lines around the mouth, but he was the same Dire Wolf she had followed into battle without hesitation. As he saw her, his face lit in a very rare grin. "Hello, princess. Nice to see you."
"Captain," she said, walking right up to the nearest gumman. He extended his arm full length and she snatched the revolver from his grip easily. As all four men watched, she crumbled that pistol in her hand without effort, breaking it into bits and pieces which fell with a clatter to the alley floor.
Valera smiled at Bane. "Am I interrupting?"
"Not at all." seeing the two gunmen near him were staring in horrified fascination at the blonde woman, the Dire Wolf stepped toward one and blasted a backfist that spun him around and lunged to nail the other one with an elbow to the face from the same arm. Bane was as fast as ever, much quicker than a normal man, and both his opponents hit the ground at the same time. The gunman near Valera turned as he glimpsed the motion and she seized him by the back of the neck, lifting him and holding him off the ground with one hand.
Bane bent to pick up their guns. He saw the Melgar woman hoisting the third man and said, "Oh, I don't need to question him, princess." Valera smacked the man on the side of his head with her free hand, being careful not to kill him, then dropped him in a heap.
"How about you crush these, as well? That made an impression on them." Bane handed her the guns and she complied by breaking them with her hands. He glared at the three forms in the alley. "They were wasting my time with empty threats. Leave them there. If someone calls the cops, just as well-- let these mugs explain their business."
"Captain, I come here for a reason," Valera said. "But it IS good to see you again. I am only sorry my father tries to keep me in Androval."
"Come in my office and we'll talk," he said as he led her into the building. "The last I heard, he was trying to marry you to some baron and produce a few heirs."
Valera snorted. "Poor luck has he had with that! Sooner or later, I know I must do my duty and bear some brats for the throne but we Melgar are long-lived and I have much to do before then." She followed him down a narrow hall, through a small waiting room, and into his office. She glanced at his desk with two chairs before but went to drop down on the couch instead. "I come not as a client seeking rescue but as a comrade."
Bringing over a straightback chair, Bane sat facing her and said, "True enough. What's up, Princess?"
"Trolls! I know you have fought them before. The bad blood between we Melgar and the Tunnel-dwellers goes far back and is bitter indeed. But let us agree that they are mere nuisance rather than a real menace. Or they were!"
"What changed?" Bane asked.
"Grum. He is something new, a warlock Troll. Never has one of them shown any knowledge of the Forbidden Arts. They are mere brutes, not much more aware than the animals of the field. But Grum is different. He has skill in magick. We know he can open tunnels in the earth and tunnels between the realms. I believe he had come here with a company of perhaps twenty Fighting Trolls and as many Diggers, to scout out this world."
The Dire Wolf scowled. "That's got to be stopped. Here and now. We have enough problems without Trolls. You didn't go to the new KDF first?"
"No." Valera leaned back and stretched, raising her arms up behind hdr. She knew she was beautiful but did not take that into account with Bane. They had saved each other's lives more than once and had a bond of comradeship stronger than mere physical attraction. "I do not know them. They are not MY team. I came to you."
"All right. Let's get to work. You know about the subway attack?"
"Yes. My father keeps a few Melgarin living in this city as Humans, bringing any news in the Midnight War to the throne. Not spies, just reporters. I know six people are missing."
Bane stood up. "We'll need my car. You have a place to stay while you're here?"
"I am registered at the Hotel Lanchester on 34th. My servant Zerathen stands by in our rooms."
"Good," Bane said as he turned and led her from the office. He already was wearing the silk-thin Trom armor under his clothes, as he already had the two silver daggers on their sheaths on his forearms and a regular .38 Smith & Wesson was holstered behind his left hip. With Valera at his side, he turned left on the sidewalk and walked briskly four blocks south to the Imperial Garage. As he checked the security devices on his silver Toyota Matrix, Valera watched him with affection.
"You have not changed much in almost twenty years, captain. I thought you would be older looking."
"I guess the tagra diet helps with that. But you know, I don't drink or smoke and I stay in shape." He unlocked the doors and slid in behind the wheel. Valera placed her sheathed weapon in the back and got in the passenger seat. Bane went out the ramp to the street and headed south.
"There have been some funny events lately," Bane said. "I try to keep track of these things. A house on Long Island collapsed and killed everyone inside. It was like a sinkhole had opened but there was no sinkhole in the area. There have been an unusual numbers of missing persons lately. Strange little robberies at night... radios, first aid kits, blankets. And then what the newspapers called the Horror On the Subway." He glanced at her as he pulled into an open spot. "I think I see a pattern now. The presence of Trolls explains some of this."
As they got out and walked to the 14th Street station, a cold wind blew over them. It was only a week until Thanksgiving but it felt like winter had settled in. Valera had strapped her weapon on again. The two went down the steps and stood on the nearly deserted platform, which had been opened again a few days after the incidents when the police had to admit there was nothing to find. Two women stood waiting for a train, looking about nervously and drawing back from Bane and Valera. Off to one side was a fat man in a suit, arguing with his cell phone.
"It's usually busier than this," Bane said. "Last Sunday, at 4:20 in the morning, six people disappeared here. The blood has been scrubbed away, the stray bits of clothing are in the labs." He spoke in a low voice. "I've seen the security tapes. They are blurred and fogged, a sure sign of gralic energy but big apelike shapes grabbed the people and wrestled them away. Now that you mention Trolls, I'm sure that's what they were but I was uncertain. There, by the pillar, is where everyone vanished."
Valera knelt, then got down on her knees and touched a discolored area about eight feet across. "Yes. My skin crawls. There has been terror here. I told you Grum can open tunnels through solid matter, instant tunnels that close up when he is done. He has been here. This was his work. See, this darkened circle." She turned her face up toward him. "My captain, it is clear to you why these Kumtogogim wanted those people?"
"Oh yes," he said. "Trolls live mostly on mushrooms and small game they trap on the surface. But their favorite food walks on two legs."
The Melgar princess shrugged off her burden from her back and held it out before her, unwrapping the leather covering on the end to reveal a spearblade, wide as a spread hand, engraved with the outline of a rearing horse. In the dim light of the subway, the ensalir metal shimmered. "See how Brightbolt shines but faintly? Evil has been here but is not here now. The Eldar craft that went into my weapon still does its work. The Trolls are not near."
"Logically, our next step is other locations I suspect our little friends have been," Bane said.
"Lead on. Strange it is for me to follow any man's orders," she smiled. "My father and the court say I was born with a stiff spine."
Bane headed up the stairs to the street. "I think we should skip the stores that were robbed. I have a hunch the Trolls would be more comfortable outside the city itself, where they can make tunnels in dirt. Let's start neae that house that collapsed on Long Island."
"Very well then," the Melgar woman agreed. "If we are too late to help the people who suffered here, surely we may still avenge them."
III.
By late afternoon, it was getting dark as they arrived on the north shore of Long Island, two hours from Manhattan. Bane drove up a long dirt road marked PRIVATE PROPERTY and stopped at a pile of debris that had been a house. The yellow police tape still encircled the ruin. Getting out, Valera unwrapped the spearhead and the barb glistened as if out in bright sunlight. "You know what this means, my captain," she said sternly. "Battle is near." She threw her white topcoat in the backseat of the car and unwrapped the spear entirely. Brightbolt, Shai Tazam in the ancient language, was over six feet in length, a polished oak shaft with a razor-edged blade. That metal was ensalir, silver which had been ensorcelled by the immortal Eldarin. The butt end and half way up the shaft were wrapped in leather strips for a better grip. With the spear in hand, Valera stood straighter and her face lost its usual good nature to settle in sterner lines.
For his part, Bane opened the car trunk and threw his sport coat in there. He took out a heavy waist-length field jacket that had its own inner layer of armor. He replaced his revolver with a clunky airgun that fired resonance caps, and he lowered a visored helmet over his head.
"That is the Dire Wolf I remember," she said.
Bane handed her a large flashlight on a lanyard. "I want you to carry this. Spare batteries are taped around it. My visor has light enhancers but I will bring a flashlight for me also. And I have some flares here."
"Wise indeed, against creatures of darkness. But how will we go after these beasts?"
"We'll make them come to us," answered Bane. He began walking in a circle, stamping his feet and Valera followed. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. The Dire Wolf began to feel foolish and wondered if he should think of another approach.
Then a section of the lawn trembled and rippled, grass and dirt suddenly disappearing as a circular hole ten feet across opened up. A dark hulk heaved up in the gloom, bigger than a man, and it rose to its feet as Valera lunged in. She swung her spear in a horizontal arc, its keen edge slicing through the Troll's neck as if through air. The brute's head was not completely severed, but hung by a flap of skin as it sagged to the dry grass.
Bane was already racing for the hole. "Get in before it closes!" he barked and dove in headlong. Valera followed. They tumbled down a sloping incline of dirt that leveled off to form a clear space high enough to stand up in. With his visor down, the Dire Wolf could see clearly and he rushed at two of the smaller Digging Trolls waiting there. His arms flashed out and back, and they both fell dead. He bent to clean the silver daggers on their rough kilts. As he sheathed his weapons, Valera thumbed on her flashlight and its bright beam illuminated the area. A single tunnel wide enough for them to walk single file extended down at an angle that could be walked without slipping. Bane went first.
As they descended, every sense keyed up and wary, Bane thought about the Trolls. He realized he really did not know enough about them. They were one of the original Seven Races, the Cousins of Man, going back to the Darthan Age thirty thousand years ago. They had been modified by Tollinor Kje for a subterranean existence. But they were not much involved with the other Races. They had no realm of their own, but were found lurking everywhere Humans had settled. He glanced up at the walls of the tunnel they were walking down. The walls had a gooey patina. What were they coated with? Saliva? The air was stale and musty but breathable. There must be ventilation shafts going to the surface at intervals. What did they do with all the dirt they displaced? Dump it somewhere? Bane realized he had never seen a female Troll. Were they kept segregated? Did they look just like the males?
He spotted a side tunnel to the left and approached it cautiously. There were bones in there. He recognized Human skulls and ribcages and realized the families of the missing people would never know what had happened. Now he could not let any Trolls escape. They must not set an example for others to come to the real world and regard Humans as prey.
Ahead, faint noises of digging and breathing sounded. Bane reached behind him and touched Valera on the arm. She hissed softly. They stepped into an arena easily a hundred feet across, with a high ceiling supported by pillars of hardened earth. A dozen Diggers shrank back in fear and confusion at the glare from Valera's flash. Their eyes could see into the infra-red but had trouble adjusing to bright light. These were how most Trolls looked, five feet tall and broad, maybe a hundred and fifty pounds. They had tawny yellowish skin and lambent red eyes. Their feet and hands were disproprtionately large and wide, with flat talons.
Bane stared at them coldly. These were workers, mere drones, not the warriors. About a third of the workers experienced a growth spurt and became Fighters. But even these Diggers were still cannibals and killers, and they could not be allowed to escape to tell others of their feast. For once, Bane was taken by surprise as something tackled him from behind and brought him tumbling forward. Bane rolled and kicked his attacker off him with both legs, jumping up into a ready stance. The Troll rushed at him, swinging a stone-headed war hammer. Bane diverted it with an outward block of his left arm and stepped in to slam a straight punch to the face with his right. That blow would have killed any Human it hit and even the Troll was stopped short. He brought the hammer around in a wide horizontal slash at head height that Bane ducked under. The Dire Wolf stepped to the side outside the hammer blow and threw a left cross with all his speed and strength that twisted the Troll's head around on his neck.
As his attacker drew back in surprise at the way his intended prey was putting up a fight, Bane got a good look. It made no sense. This was a Fighting Troll in appearance... the massive shoulders, thick arms and legs covered in black hair, the conical skull and jutting fangs. But he was no bigger than a good-sized man, a few inches over six feet tall and under three hundred pounds. Where Fighting Trolls were huge but sluggish, this one was as quick as a Human and much stronger.
The Troll twirled his massive hammer and brought it up behind him in preparation for another attack. From behind him, a deep growling voice said, "Stand back, Skur. Do you not know who you face?"
Bane and Valera stared as one of the Digging Trolls stepped forward, but this one was very different from the others. He wore a sleeveless tunic of coarse white cloth, belted at the waist and he carried a sceptre of red metal in one hand. His face sjowed a crafty intelligence not seen in the others. A simple circlet of beaten gold was worn like a crown on his head.
The Melgar woman spat a single word, "Grum!"
"Hah! I am getting the reputation I deserve, it seems. Oh, the famous warlike Princess of Androval. And the Dire wolf. Nice additions to the menu. Yes, I am the one and only Grum, the first warlock of my Race. And my friend here is Skur, you will get to know him. Like me, he is an anomaly, a Fighting Troll who reached Human stature and stopped. So he is nimble and quick but strong. Quite a combination of traits. I don't think there has ever been a warrior quite like him."
Bane demanded, "Where did you learn magick, Grum? Who was your teacher?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" was the insolent answer.
"I suppose it doesn't..." Bane began but was cut off as Skur attacked abruptly. Without telegraphing his moves, he pounced forward and the huge stone-headed hammer whistled right at Bane's head. The Dire Wolf dropped below it and kicked the back of the Troll's ankle in a spinning sweep. The brute fell off-balance and caught a side kick to the jaw that sounded like an axe cutting wood. In the same motion, Bane jumped up and came down with an elbow to the chest. Amazingly, Skur ignored that impact and threw a simple roundhouse swing that Bane could not quite avoid. It spun him to one side in a loose cartwheel and Skur leaped for his hammer.
Three explosions detonated in a quick succession, deafening in the enclosed space. The impact of those resonance caps broke bone where they struck and Skur spun around to fall face down in the dirt. Getting up to his feet, Bane lowered his airgun and shrugged at Valera. "I could have slugged it out all day with him, but honestly what's the point?"
Valera nodded and spun her great spear so its point was threatening Grum. "Indeed, there is no honor in combat with these brutes."
The warlock Troll stepped aside as the tunnel behind him was filled with twenty Fighting Trolls. Seven feet tall and wide enough for a man to hide behind, they stomped furiously forward. Valera leaped to meet them. Like her famous cousin Sulak, her body was reinforced with gralic energy and had strength too great to measure. With the Eldar spear Brightbolt in her hands, she began to plow through the giant brutes. It was mere slaughter. Heads flew off, arms and legs spun away. She was covered in blood within seconds. After the spear became stuck in a torso, Valera let it go and met the remaining Trolls with her fists. The sounds of her blows was like whips cracking. Behind her, the Dire Wolf lit a flare and tossed it where its crackling light filled the cavern.
One of the Fighters ignored her and stomped toward Bane, getting too close for him to use the airgun. A resonance cap at point-blank range would backfire. The Dire Wolf leaped to one side, just escaping the grasping paws, pivotted and brought the butt of his gun right at the nape of that thick neck with all his strength. The Troll fell to his knees. Picking up the stone hammer that Skur had dropped, Bane grunted at its weight but managed to lift it and bring in down with a mushy-sounding thump on the back of the Troll's crest. The hammer stuck in the skull and he abandoned it.
Bane turned to see Valera tugging her spear free. Not much of her was not spattered in blood and her silk uniform was ripped mostly off. Her blue eyes were dangerously bright with excitement and for the barest instant he thought she might attack him next. "Princess! Are you all right?" he asked.
She laughed gleefully. "Oh, Jeremy. If you only knew how many Melgarin I have avenged this night! The souls of my people can rest easy now. They have been avenged and right properly. So have your own people who were taken from that subway!"
Bane looked around. "Damn. Princess, see who's missing?"
The grin ran away from her face. "Oh no."
"Grum got away. I should have thought of that. His very power is opening tunnels, after all. When we catch him again, we can't give him a second or he'll escape again. And looks like he took his pal Skur with him."
Valera was trying to wipe thick black blood from her face but her hands were covered with it. Bane took a small first aid kit from his jacket and handed her a few alcohol swabs. She got her face and hands more or less clean, and her expression was rueful.
"We'll find both of them," Bane promised. "Right now, our worry is getting out of these tunnels. One of them must lead up to the surface."
"I have no doubt we will find our exit," she said. "With my strength, I can open even the smallest air vent to get us out. Let's get started." She looked down ruefully at her exposed upper body, where only tatters hung from her arms and across her torso. "I am half naked, captain. If my friend Zarithen were here, she would be appalled at what you are allowed to see."
Bane mustered a smile. "When we get to my car, I'll give you a spare shirt I keep in my knapsack. What Zarithen doesn't know won't horrify her."
5/5/2013f
