Chapter Ten - Ironclaws

The demon's meteors had wrecked a huge portion of the city and a greater portion of the Palosian fleet. In both cases, significant pieces remained. It took more than a meteor shower to sink a Totem Ship.

The Sardipans had gotten lucky; one of the ships had been caught unaware--its mast had snapped under the weight of the first meteor, disrupting the fragile configuration of the runes etched all over the hull. Its enchantments collapsed and the ship sank. The remaining pair of Totem Ships were battered but still floating, pulling up to the crushed rubble along the dockside. They disgorged more troops than could possibly have fit within a mere two ships, then pulled back into the water to deliver support at range.

On shore, the what remained of the Sardipan defenders rallied. This time, numbers were on their side.

Meanwhile, a pair of gray figures crawled out from a hole beneath a freshly demolished building.

"'Nevermind, Savant,' you said!" one figure yelled to the other. "'He does this all the time,' you said!"

"I fail to see what yelling at me is going to accomplish, Savant." said Daniel Talon. "Now I suggest we get to someplace safe. I can hear gunshots in the distance, so it seems the fight is still on."

"Damn, what happened here?" said Savant Viggo Helmsman, looking around. "Everything's been levelled from here to the docks."

"I'm not sure, but it would account for the thunderous roar we heard up here. Let's see...this used to connect Abyss section nine...which would put us on--"

"Imperium Street." said Helmsman, a piece of crushed statuary in his hand. "The West end. This was a piece of the Statue of Henry XVII on the corner of Imperium and 329th Street."

"Impossible. We'd be able to see the Imperator's Stronghold from there."

Helmsman turned slowly. "Who says we can't?"

Indeed, part of the fortress' granite dome still stood, but it lay gutted by the meteors, an empty shell. That was when they noticed the Wight.

It was standing atop a pile of ruined stonework, looking intently at a man who seemed to have survived the collapse. Bloody and battered, the man lie on his back with a piece of rubble half his size on his chest, pinning him to the ground. The Wight loomed over him--it had to be seven feet tall. It was wearing a long leather coat and an iron mask, but it was the hands that caught Helmsman's attention. The leather sleeves ended above the elbow when they were encased by the same black iron of the mask. The guantlets looked to be a part of the Wight's body, as they extended into fingers nearly two feet long. Each one ended in a pointed talon. A dusk cloud surroundeded the Wight, pulsating regularly. The Wight stood at the center of the swirling dust, otherwise motionless.

Helmsman had never had much of a drive for personal survival. It had been either the efforts of others or blind luck that had let him last for sixty-two years. Without a heartbeat, any sense of self-preservation in the Savant was long gone. His curiosity beckoned him to the Wight, and he followed.

"Friend of yours?" he called to Talon, pointing to the Wight.

"I've seen him before, but only recently. They call him Ironclaws." said Talon, jogging alongside Helmsman.

As Helmsman drew up, he could hear a regular hissing noise coming from the Wight. Each time he heard the hiss, the cloud of dust pulsated. When he got within a few feet, he could hear the man groaning. Helmsman looked down at the man and started in recognition as he looked down into the bloody face of Nathan Cross. Cross' eyes opened wide when he saw Helmsman.

"Savant." he coughed. "Get this rock off me...that...thing...I think it wants...to take me to hell."

Helmsman looked at the Wight. From his new vantage point, he could see the front of the Wight; its face resembled an iron gas mask. Beneath the eye holes came a red light, sending two trails of crimson into the surrounding cloud of dust. Aside from the regular swirling of the dust, the Wight hadn't moved.

"What are you doing, then?" Helmsman asked the Wight.

The Wight's movement was unexpectedly fluid, given its bulky appearance. It didn't speak, but lowered its head and raised a talon, tapping its neck. Helmsman noticed that the Wight was tapping the head of a screw.

"I think he wants you to unscrew that." said Talon.

Ironclaws nodded and went down on one knee, putting the screw at eye level.

"What are you...doing?" gasped Cross. "I'll die if you don't...help me!"

Helmsman rummaged in his pockets until he found a screwdriver. The screw was stubborn at first, but came open without too much fuss. The Wight turned, exposing an identical screw on the opposite side. Helmsman took it out with barely a word.

"Do you want to keep these, then?" he asked, holding out the screws.

The exaggerated talons reached up and pulled the front of the mask. It gave and unfolded from the top. The face beneath was that of a man about Helmsman's age, with long, flowing hair that came loose from the helmet unfettered by sweat. The face was normal, if slightly oversized, except for the eyes; the irises glowed red, casting a light. The hissing sound continued, and dust swam out from the mouth and nose.

"No." it said in a whispery voice. "I don't think I'll need them any longer." Ironclaws turned to Cross. "As for you. I'm not here to drag you down to hell; I just want to be here when it happens." Ironclaws paced around to the other side of Cross. "And it looks like I won't have much longer to wait."

"Helmsman, please." rasped Cross. His voice was getting fainter.

Viggo Helmsman hardly considered himself a hero. But when it came down to a scenario like this, he didn't see where he had a choice. Cross had been a power hungry bastard, but he couldn't leave him to die like this.

"So, you want me to try and save you from a slow, painful death?"

"I beg of you."

"Well, all right then, but only because you begged." Helmsman put his hand into his pocket. It came out holding the revolver that had killed King Rarc. He shot Cross in the head--the death was instant.

Talon looked on, stunned.

"I've seen things like this before." said Helmsman. "And they always wind up bleeding internally. It's a slow, unpleasant way to die. It would take a hell of a biomancer to bring him back from where he was, and I don't think we'd be able to find one." He blew the smoke coming from the end of the barrel and put the revolver back in his pocket. "What about you? Did you get what you came for?"

"This man," said Ironclaws. "Is the reason I am a Wight. I served him loyally for nearly a decade, and he killed me in cold blood to keep me silent. He rewarded my loyalty with death; I merely wanted to see justice delivered."

"Then justice is done." said Talon. "Now come on. Those gunshots are getting closer, and I don't want to spend any more time out in the open. We can get back to the Abyss--"

"Forget the Abyss. This looks like the edge of the blast radius. My facility is a few miles down whats left of this street, and if it's still standing, there won't be a safer place in what's left of the city."