Interrogation

 

Savren stood alone in a dark room with a large yet simple ritual array scribed out across the floor.

Every species had variances in their minds, how they thought, and even what, exactly, constituted as thought versus reflexes or instinct. Among circles he frequented, among the libraries he had plundered for texts on the mind and clues that would lead to him curing his curse, he had found ancient analysis, documentation, and even dissection of humans, demihumans, and a large number of beastmen.

They couldn’t crack open the captive creature to analyze its brain structure. Nor could they converse with the creature to get an idea of how it thought. Not once throughout the night had it so much as twitched. Arkk had posted guards in the prison room specifically to watch for any sign of it awakening while he was asleep.

Arkk wasn’t sure if Savren’s circle would work. The mind mage said that he was basing it off drider brain patterns. The spider-like beastmen had similar carapace and multiple limbs, though this creature lacked the many legs and bulbous belly. There was a vague, superficial similarity.

Hopefully, that was enough. A lot of magic was based on symbolism and representations. It was why Vezta had participated in the boundary ritual; she, a being from another plane who had physically visited the Underworld in the past, represented a connection.

“Ready,” Savren called out to the empty room. Arkk couldn’t hear him through the employee link but the single word he spoke up to the ceiling couldn’t have been anything else.

Arkk plucked up the prisoner and teleported it straight to the center of Savren’s circle. At the same time, Arkk moved himself and Vezta out of the prison, joining Savren in the room. The tall creature didn’t shift once because of the movement. If it did suddenly move, Arkk had to be ready to teleport himself, Savren, and Vezta away.

Savren had already explained how the ritual would go. He didn’t waste words explaining again. Stepping up to the point of the circle intended for the mind reader, he knelt and placed his hand on the ground.

Vezta, hands clasped together at her waist, stood a few steps away. She steered clear of the circle and walked along its edge, every one of her eyes locked on the creature. Arkk stayed still, watching and waiting as the ritual circle began to glow.

The creature remained still. Savren, on the other hand, did not. The man’s face twitched and twisted, grimaced and gaped. He snapped his hand back but Arkk could practically see the magic clinging to his fingertips like sticky slime, keeping him linked back to the ritual circle.

“Something wrong?” Arkk asked, ready to teleport at a moment’s notice.

Savren turned his head, neck bent at an unnatural angle. He had to hunch one shoulder to look at Arkk. “Invaders.”

Vezta tensed, lowering her stance to be ready for combat.

The creature still hadn’t moved.

Arkk drew in a breath. This was not how it was supposed to go. Savren was supposed to read the creature’s mind and report back with the answers to the questions that Arkk and the others had come up with. Or as many as he could answer.

“Savren, are you in there?” Arkk asked.

Was Savren being hurt? Would it hurt him to teleport him? He thought it shouldn’t, based on everything he had learned from Zullie about ritual circles, but he also didn’t think that Savren should have been able to stand up while keeping the ritual circle going. Those sticky trails of magic connecting his hand to the ground were surely the cause. Would teleporting sever them or just stretch them?

“Savren. Human. Invader.”

“Am I speaking with the… creature?” Arkk wished he had a better name for it.

“Guardian. Protector. Speaking. Human. Invader.”

Arkk glanced at Vezta. The cadence was somewhat similar to how she had spoken before Arkk had connected with Fortress Al-Mir. But it lacked that oomph of shoving concepts straight into his mind. These were just words.

“Can you ask it who it is? Perhaps what it wants?” Arkk asked. Although Vezta had gained the ability to communicate normally, he had not gained her ability to use the [CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGE] in exchange.

“[Query]/[Question],” Vezta started, still tense yet remaining outside the circle. “[Identification]/[existence]/[guess who]?”

Savren, still hunched at an unnatural angle, flinched at Vezta’s words. “Old. Words,” it said with a sudden strain in its tone. “Protector. Am Protector. I am Protector.”

“Should I be worried that it is getting better at speaking?” Arkk grumbled to Vezta. She didn’t even shrug. Her attention was evenly split between Savren and the creature. The Protector? Louder, Arkk said, “Who or what is it that you protect?”

“Protector of Life. Protector of Under Land. Protect the Lady Shadow.”

“The Cloak of Shadows,” Vezta said, mostly unnecessarily. “Is the Cloak of Shadows still… active in the Underworld?”

Savren twitched but didn’t respond. One of the five strands of magic linking his hand to the ritual circle snapped. Stress? Or…

“We might be on a time limit,” Arkk whispered to Vezta. Then, louder, “We entered your world seeking aid and help. We mean no harm to your people, the land, or the Cloak of Shadows.”

“Trust. Impossible. Betrayal.” The voice coming from Savren’s mouth paused a moment then restarted. “The Lady Shadow, betrayed by trusted Keeper of Her Heart.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not that Keeper. And frankly, after seeing the state of your world, I don’t think you can turn away offered help from anyone.”

The voice didn’t respond but another one of the strands snapped, leaving just three.

“Are there others like you? Other people in that world?” Arkk asked with a slight urgency to his tone. “The village where we encountered each other didn’t seem to have anyone in it but if you’re some protector, I doubt you’re protecting nothing.”

“Protection comes in many forms. Answer this, Keeper: How where was why able to breech the Archway?”

“We intend to revert the Calamity. The bindings of the planes by the traitors in the Pantheon,” he added, just in case they didn’t call it the Calamity in the Underworld. “I entreated with Xel’atriss, Lock and Key, and she saw fit to grant me the boon of traveling between worlds to gather allies and knowledge.”

“Gods,” the Protector said. A haze of clarity returned to Savren’s milky eyes as another of the strands snapped but the Protector reasserted control. “Traitors all. Poor Lady Shadows.”

Vezta visibly bristled. She was about to speak but Arkk put a hand on her arm. They didn’t have time to get into a theological argument.

“Your body hasn’t moved in a day and a half,” Arkk said. The time on this conversation might be running down but that didn’t mean it had to be the only conversation. “Aside from a missing leg, which we treated as best as we can, you look uninjured. Do you have any tips for healing you?”

“Healing unnecessary.”

“You’ll die if you sit there and don’t eat or move.”

“The body in your possession is already dead in all ways that matter,” it said as the fourth strand snapped. The haze in Savren’s eyes kept moving in and out of focus. He was probably trying to fight off the ritual if he was still conscious under there. “Explore the Land of Shadows at your own peril, Keeper. We will protect.”

Arkk shoved his confusion into a little black pit and focused on trying to get something meaningful out of this conversation. “We’re trying to help. We haven’t attacked anyone that hasn’t attacked us first and—”

The final strand snapped. The glow around the ritual circle snuffed out and Savren, hunched in an odd position, yelped and fell backward onto the ground.

Arkk’s teeth ground together even as he rushed over to his employee. “Are you alright?”

Savren had his hands clamped over his eyes as he rocked his head back and forth. “I… I… I…” He smacked his hands into his cheeks. “Hive. Hive heads having harmonious hammer. Hammer?” he said, lowering his arms from his face.

The haze in his eyes was gone entirely but a trickle of blood leaked from the side of his nose. He stared up at the ceiling in confusion but with enough awareness that Arkk didn’t think his brain had been completely scrambled.

“A collective mind?” Vezta asked, stepping between the unmoving creature and Arkk. She had her back to them but an eye on her spine kept careful watch.

Savren snapped his fingers and pointed at Vezta. “Correct!” he practically shouted. “Connecting craniums called to the collective and, craving control over the corpse, caterwauled caterwauled caterwauled…” Savren smacked his hands into both of his cheeks. “Communicated with my consciousness.”

“Are you alright?” Arkk asked again, a little more concerned.

“Confused. The collective overcame my curse and caused counteraction, comeback, counterblast, backlash.”

“So it wasn’t the creature that… knocked you silly? But your own curse?”

“Correct,” Savren said, groaning as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He ran the back of his hand along the bottom of his nose, smearing the blood across his cheek without doing much to clean it. Wobbly as he was, Arkk helped to support his back. “I sawwww them,” he slurred. “Saw their sights, standing in their stations. Some spied the soldiers at the s… something something.”

Arkk blinked in confusion for a moment before tensing as understanding hit him. “They’re watching the portal?”

Savren nodded twice, only to hang his head into his hands.

“Rest. A respite is required. I’ll right myself rather rapidly but only after repose.”

“I’ll send you to your chambers if you want,” Arkk said, already teleporting the creature back to its prison cell. The Protector had said that it was dead but Arkk wasn’t going to trust the words of a potential enemy and leave it lying about.

“Rest, yes. I… require rest.”

Arkk teleported Savren away. He would have Larry bring him something to eat and check on him. But first, he and Vezta reappeared in front of the portal.

Nothing had attacked the archway so far. He checked the moment Savren said that. The link to his employees let him easily see the other side even if he couldn’t teleport there directly. No one was under attack. But being watched made him nervous.

He stepped through the portal. “Check the perimeter,” he said with a glance at Vezta.

She nodded and headed off while Arkk made his way across the small and still-forming courtyard to the main headquarters.

It had only been a few days but Fortress Al-Mir was working hard to secure the far side of the portal. Lesser servants scurried about, carrying bricks and wood to the various construction sites. Flopkin volunteers joined them, hauling material. Some of the more constructive recruits along with a handful of refugees—whom he had ensured knew that this was purely voluntary and that they would be paid for their labors—were putting together walls and buildings around the archway.

Right now, the headquarters was still just a large tent. In a few weeks, barring these Protectors assaulting them, they would have the start of a permanent keep out here.

“Rekk’ar,” Arkk said, shoving a flap aside.

The orc, boots off and feet on the table, jolted. He lurched out of his chair and looked around, bleary-eyed, for any possible threat. Finding nothing but a few of the other orcs in the room chuckling at him, he let out a low growl as he bared his tusks. “What?”

“Double the guard. Regular check-ins. Anyone who can’t be reinforced in about thirty seconds needs to be pulled back to the tent and the archway.”

Rekk’ar’s anger at being woken from his nap shifted to wary concern. “What’s going on? Incoming threats?”

Arkk shook his head. “Not immediately. I have it on good authority that more of the creatures that attacked us at the shadow village might be watching our activities here.”

“The big thing you dragged back? They don’t seem so tough.”

“They’ve got tough skin and their strength will make them dangerous to small numbers, but they can be overwhelmed.” Arkk turned slightly to the side. “Orjja, there are two orcs on patrol around the other side of the portal. Take Kia and Claire with you and bring them back closer.”

The orc saluted and, along with the two dark elves, hurried out of the tent.

“Rekk’ar, get the guard—”

“Wait. Full report on the methods you used to take down the previous creature.”

Arkk crossed his arms, a little irritated at being interrupted. However, Rekk’ar had a point. They needed to know how to fight them. “Get Olatt’an to give you the full details. Every orc in my employ should be capable of casting at least one Electro Deus lightning bolt. It might drain them to the point of requiring rest but a well-placed bolt to the head seems to have killed the one we dragged back.”

“Thought you said it was still alive.”

“It killed the body but left the mind. Or vice-versa. Honestly, not sure. They have some kind of hive mind, so each of them knows what happened to the rest. If we start flinging enough lightning bolts, they will either get the hint or they’ll die.

“However,” Arkk continued after taking a breath. “These things claimed to be protectors of the land and people here. I still think there is a chance to negotiate. If one attacks, defend yourselves. If you see one just watching or even peacefully approaching, get me immediately.”

Rekk’ar squared his shoulders and nodded his head. At least he was taking the situation seriously. He immediately turned and barked out, “Luthor.”

“Y-Yes?” The nervous beastman’s scaled skin shifted through a few colors. He had been deftly avoiding anyone’s eyes ever since Arkk walked into the room. “Sir?”

“Go wake the second shift early. We’ll adjust scheduling shortly but for now, I want everyone up and on guard.”

“M-Me?”

“Yes, you,” Rekk’ar said, tone flat as he shot an irritated glance toward Arkk.

Arkk could only shrug. He wouldn’t have normally hired Luthor. Unfortunately, he had strongarmed Alma into Company Al-Mir and he came as a package with the half-werecat and their oxen companion.

“O-Okay. I can do that,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “I can do that. Just wake up a dozen angry orcs. It’ll be fine.”

“Get moving!” Rekk’ar barked out.

With a clipped yelp, the chameleon beastman bolted from the headquarters tent.

Rekk’ar glared after him, shaking his head in a disappointed manner once the tent flaps fell back to their resting position. “What do we do about the construction?”

“Keep it going as long as it can be guarded. The workers are the most vulnerable but having proper buildings to fight from is too valuable to stop.”

“Thought you said those things could climb walls like a spider?”

“They can, but they might not be the only things out there. These things are protectors of something and protectors from something.”

Rekk’ar grumbled to himself, arms crossed. His eyes drifted away from Arkk and toward his thoughts.

“Something on your mind?” Arkk asked.

“Just a suggestion I’m sure you’ll ignore.”

“I don’t ignore your advice. I just… don’t follow it all the time.”

“Ever.”

“Not true. There was… I listened when you…”

“Save it.” Rekk’ar looked at Arkk and put all his effort into rolling his eyes. “Recall everyone here and destroy the archway.”

Arkk’s frown at being unable to come up with an instance where he had listened to Rekk’ar remained firmly in place, though his reason for holding it turned to one of incredulity. “You’re right. Going to ignore that one.”

“Why?”

“Why? Are you serious? After all the effort it took to get here—”

“And we’re spending even more effort to stay here. Our personnel, not numerous to begin with, are split between here and the fortress. We’re expending resources and time and, potentially, lives just to maintain a presence here. And for what?

“We have an army bearing down on us back in our world and yet here we are, dithering about in the dirt of a desolate—”

“Please don’t do the Savren thing,” Arkk interrupted with a sigh, shaking his head. “And I get it. I am well aware of the pressures. But…”

Arkk took a breath and sank into the chair next to the one Rekk’ar had been dozing in. With everyone in the headquarters having been sent out, it was just him and Rekk’ar, free to talk and argue without anyone’s authority being undermined. Even still, he wasn’t quite sure how to broach the topic he wanted to bring up.

So he just came out and said it. “I talked with a god.”

“What.”

“Between wanting to ensure we weren’t attacked from the other side of the portal and dealing with the Protector, there hasn’t been time to call a proper debriefing. Especially because I didn’t think it mattered. But I talked to a god.”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. What.”

“Crazy right? That’s another reason I haven’t called a debriefing. How exactly do I explain this without sounding like the village idiot?”

“Try.”

Arkk took another breath. “That ritual Zullie and Savren cooked up? It didn’t open the portal. One moment Vezta and I were sitting there in the middle and the next… It was there. I didn’t get a good look with my actual eyes before Vezta smothered me and I can’t be sure that what I saw later was how it looked. Regardless, we… communicated. Talking isn’t quite the right word.”

Rekk’ar leaned forward, hands on the table. He squinted his eyes at Arkk, oddly concerned rather than suspicious or angry. “Has the stress of everything finally gotten to you?”

“Funny,” Arkk said, tone flat. “Vezta can verify everything. When I call the meeting, I’ll have her explain. I’m sure she’ll do a better job.”

“Perhaps you ought to lie down.”

“Funny,” Arkk said again. “The point is, the ritual didn’t directly open the portal. It was the god, specifically in response to our request for aid in both reverting the Calamity as well as in repelling Evestani’s army. There has to be something here. I don’t know if it is the Protectors, some other people, or knowledge lying about.

“There is something here.” Arkk frowned, feeling rather like he had in the presence of that being. It was probably just his mind recalling things now that he was talking about it. Still, some small part of the back of his mind felt like a boundary had shifted. Some wall between ignorance and knowledge. “There is something here,” he said again. “I can feel it. Some power off in the distance.”

He turned his head, not looking anywhere in particular yet still staring toward one corner of the tent. It was something… familiar yet alien all the same. Perhaps he hadn’t been attuned to it properly at the time, panicked and ignorant as he had been, but it felt almost like the ambiance around the [HEART] of Fortress Al-Mir before he connected with it.

If there was another intact and functioning heart here, claiming it could be a vast boon.