“Show yourselves,” Koth yelled, starting to glow red in the darkness.
“Loud as always,” the voice said.
But many forms started to appear in the darkness at the edge of Koth’s glow. They were of differing heights and sizes, but all carried weapons. There were thirty that Venser counted. An elf with etched copper arms stepped forward, with his bow half drawn and two cocked fingers holding an arrow in place. His skin was greenish, and the smell of him was odd, Venser thought. Perhaps it was the copper growing into his skin. But the elf’s hair, which seemed to be made up of segmented sections of cable or some close substance, was sweat sodden and pulled back. Deep creases surrounded both his eyes and mouth, as if he had frowned for years.
Behind the forms, vast boulders towered.
“Are we saved by the elves?” Koth laughed.
The elf at the front of the group held up one finger. “Not entirely,” he swept his hand back. The outline of a vulshok, with spikes at the shoulders and head, was clearly visible behind him.
“I am Ezuri and you are saved by Mirrodin. It is a place you may remember from the old days,” the elf said.
Koth was quiet.
Venser noticed for the first time that the elves in the group, and the leader in particular, had small circular parts of their arm and leg metal that glowed green.
“What do you seek?” Elspeth said, standing tall and white in the festering filth around her. Her sword was unsheathed and laid across her left arm. Venser was suddenly very glad that she was a part of the group. Koth was seething… getting redder and redder the longer he stood. There would be a fight if the situation continued.
It was the elf who spoke. “We are here to lead you out of this madness,” the elf said, “if you would come.”
Koth brightened. “Yes, please,” he said. Then he seemed to realize that he’d spoken too quickly. “Why are you helping us?”
The elf laughed a high, shrill laugh. “One, maybe two more rooms and you would be as this meat we are standing upon,” he said. He looked down at the rotting flesh. “Some of this is elf. Perhaps some of these elves were from my tribe.” He lifted his foot. “That might even be my wife.”
Nobody spoke. After a moment Venser stepped forward.
“I am Venser of Urborg.”
“It is I, Ezuri,” the elf said. “And these are raiders against the fiends.”
“Ezuri, we thank you for wanting to help us, but we must continue down from here.”
“Why?” the elf said. “We have been tracking you for some time, and at every turn you seem to be uniquely able to choose the most dangerous path, and to take it.”
Venser heard Koth stir next to him. He would hear from the vulshok later how they were not on the correct path, but it was time to make sure that the elf did not impede their progress.
“We search for a friend who was lost here.”
“Who is this friend? I might have seen him.”
“His name is Karn,” Venser said.
Ezuri stared at Venser for what seemed like a full minute. “No, I have not seen anyone by that name.”
“We must find him,” Venser said.
“If he is any deeper than the meat room, you may forget you ever heard his name.”
As if to prove the point, a chorus of gargled bellows cut the stinking air. Ezuri did not move his head, but his large ears pivoted slightly at the sound. His eyes never left Venser’s.
“I cannot let you pass this room,” Ezuri said. “You know this. I cannot let you stir those that tear flesh into a frenzy. We have been pressing them hard and making good progress against them. I cannot let you undo our work.”
“You think you have them on the run?” Koth said. “We were just at the Vault of Whis-”
“And there were some Phyrexians around there,” Venser cut in.
Sensing he was not getting the whole story, Ezuri cut his gaze from Koth to Venser, then after a quick glance at his troops, turned back to Venser before continuing.
“There are small pockets of the enemy there,” Ezuri said. “That is known.”
Elspeth picked up on the tone of the conversation. “Yes, some,” she said.
“But what we saw come out of that mountain…,” Koth began.
“Koth,” Elspeth interrupted. “Would you introduce me to your kin?”
Koth cast an eye at the vulshok standing behind Ezuri. “He is Shield clan.” Then to the vulshok, “Come forward, Shield clan.”
The vulshok stood where he was, and looked to Ezuri. The elf nodded and the vulshok stepped forward.
“Since when do the wrought follow the bidding of those of the forests,” Koth said.
“Since we lost most of our tribe,” the vulshok replied.
“Do you know Ranglif or Nagel?”
The man shook his head.
Venser seemed unconcerned. “You must surely know the Lyser?”
The vulshok nodded once. “He is dead.”
The small smile faded off of Koth’s face. “Is that so?”
“That is so,” the vulshok said. “A battle in the Tangle did him.”
“What was he doing in the Tangle, with the elves?”
Venser watched the vulshok shrug his shoulders. The shoulder shrug must be one of the worst expressions in existence, Venser thought. So meaningless and yet so insolent.
The artificer looked critically at the band of rebels, as Koth argued with the vulshok. They had spread their ranks as Ezuri spoke. They would be hard to flank or evade. Still, if they could get to the other side of that large rock behind Koth, it might be possible to run through the boulder field. With a little luck they might find an exit before Ezuri and his thugs caught up. It was worth trying.
But Ezuri had been watching Venser. When the artificer moved, three of Ezuri’s elves had their bows up and aimed.
“Do not move, friend,” Ezuri said. “You really are going to accompany us.”
Venser took a breath. In his toes and ears he could feel his mana tingling and building. He had enough mana for a very small jump. It could perhaps take him behind the large boulder. But if he made that jump he would be completely without mana and fighting all of them.
“We have watched you disappear,” Ezuri said. “Do not do that here.” To make his point, Ezuri had his archers point arrows at Elspeth.
Venser nodded. “Mirrodin will continue to suffer unless we find this person,” Venser said.
“Then we will suffer,” Ezuri said. “And to be honest with you, Mirrodin’s suffering has allowed me this position of leadership. So, let her suffer more, Mirrodin. I could not have risen as I have without the Phyrexians or the Vanishing.”
“That is blasphemy!” Koth said.
“Oh, hush, Koth, son of Kamath,” Ezuri said. “We know of you and yours. You have no standing with us. If, indeed, you have any with your own people.”
“Mirrodin will find herself again soon, when all machinery has been cleansed from her face and bowels,” Ezuri said. “Our decline started with vedalken tinkering. If they had left the inner working of Mirrodin a great, natural secret instead of mucking around and making her into a machine.”
Venser yawned. “Mirrodin is metal, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Mirrodin is alive,” Ezuri said, and then a sneer crossed his face. “We have no need of artificers here, my friend. Tinkering has got us to this impasse. Phyrexians are tinkerers.”
“They are not artificers,” Venser said, unconcerned by the red face of the elf. “Artificers create.”
Elspeth, who had been standing a bit back from the rest, stepped forward. She spoke simply, with no expression on her smooth face. “We are here in this place to help, for the good of this plane. If you force my hand, I will be compelled to slay you all. You are not thinking about the good of your plane, about what is good for all. Only for yourselves. So, for you own good, I will be compelled to teach you humility and discipline at the edge of my sword.” She held her sword up, glittering, in the vast room of piled boulders.
