Engines of the Apocalypse

'Oh, I'm sure,' Slowhand said, leaning forward and whispering in Gabriella's ear. 'Only I thought you weren't interested.'

'Interested?'

'Your foot,' Slowhand breathed, 'on my thigh.'

Gabriella's eyes narrowed. 'Mister, believe me, the only place you'll ever find my foot is between your thighs, but you'll be too busy peeling your gonads from the ceiling to enjoy it.'

'Funny,' Slowhand purred, 'that sounds just like something Hooper would say.'

'What sounds like something Hooper would say?' Kali joined in.

'Oh, nothing,' Slowhand said. He turned to give Gabriella another knowing glance but she'd already stood to replace some of the books on the shelves. He glanced quickly under the table, where 'her foot' was still at work.

'Er, ladies…'

Kali glanced up, stood and pushed back her chair with a curse. Beside her, Gabriella unsheathed her twin swords with a metallic ring that echoed throughout the vast library.

'Shhh!' came an admonition from beyond the shelves.

Kali ignored it. 'What the hells?'

The book which lay open in front of Slowhand, who was leaning well back and staring at it warily, was exuding something from its spine. A number of thin, black tapers were curling from the top and bottom of the book, growing by the second, one of them now fully curled around Slowhand's thigh. Multiplying and thickening, accompanied by a dry, sinister hiss, they were redoubling their interest in the archer.

'Hooper, one of 'ems heading for my — '

'Slowhand, get up slowly,' Kali said.

'That might be a good idea,' he responded. It took him a second to react, however, the tapers having a strangely mesmeric effect on those who watched them, and it was only when the taper made a sudden dart for his crotch that he stood and kicked his chair back with a 'Whoa!'

It was, unfortunately, a little too late, and before Slowhand knew what was happening twenty or more of the things had wrapped themselves around different parts of his body and were holding him in their grip. The archer struggled against them but, with as echoing thud, they tipped him off his feet and slapped him to the floor.

'Mmf… ooper?' Slowhand said, his eyes wide, as one of the tapers wrapped around his jaw. 'Youf wanna helf me ouf here?'

'Hold on,' Kali said, and attempted to tear the tapers away. 'Shit,' she shouted. 'Shit!'

Not only were the tapers binding Slowhand as tightly as barrel hoops, but Kali's attempt to sever them prompted a backlash against herself. Suddenly they were far from mesmeric, a wild, thrashing mass that struck at her. She had no choice but to back off from Slowhand, and as the archer writhed helplessly on the floor, increasingly constricted, she adopted a defensive stance, gutting knife drawn in front of her.

'What are they?' Gabriella asked. She stared at the book's spine, which had thickened to accommodate the roots of perhaps a hundred of the tapers. 'They look like some kind of…'

'Bookworm?' Kali suggested.

'I'm glad you said that.'

'Hells, I call 'em as I see 'em.'

Gabriella threw herself on top of Slowhand and, gripping him between her thighs, slashed at the tapers with her own twin blades, again to no effect. She, too, was forced back, Slowhand groaning in pain.

'There has to be something we can do.' Gabriella said.

'Yeah, and fast. Before these things pop him out of his clothes.' Gabriella looked at her strangely. 'Trust me. It happens.'

The Deathclaws, Kali realised. They might free Slowhand and prove to be a better defence. She leapt for the table where her backpack lay, snatched the blades from within and returned to slash at the tapers about the thrashing archer. They did the job, but the tapers had now multiplied to a degree where they were beginning to fill the entire reading area and, as Gabriella pulled Slowhand up and staggered with him down an aisle, Kali was forced to leap out of the path of the evil-looking mass and cling to the side of a bookshelf. At the same time she shouted to the curator who was approaching to see what all the commotion was about. 'You! This book — where did it come from?'

'W-which book, Madam?'

Hanging there, Kali gave him her best, bemused look. 'The one with the things growing out of it?'

'I d-don't know,' he said, staring and stammering. 'I'll need to ch-check the catalogue.'

'The catalogue?'

The little man actually looked affronted. 'M-Madam, there are over ten thousand tomes gathered in this library, subdivided into — '

'Just do it!' Kali shouted, slashing at the tapers with the claws. Severed sections spiralled away but more tapers darted in from her left and she threw herself from the shelf on which she clung to one on the opposite side of the aisle. 'Because if you haven't noticed, things are getting a little out of hand here!'

The little man scuttled off and Kali found herself leaping from shelf to shelf as more and more tapers emerged from the book and snapped at her. The Deathclaws hummed in the air and the amputated tapers began to pile up below her, but there were always more, growing from the severed ends. Their tenacity was unrelenting and Kali wasn't sure how long she could keep up her defence. She saw one of the Eminences appear in the aisle, no doubt come to see what all the fuss was about, and the man stared in horror as a single taper shot out and punched into his chest. Kali actually saw it punch out of his back and then snap back, clutching his heart, leaving the dead man to slowly collapse to the floor.

'Keep back!' Kali warned as the curator returned, and it only took one look from the man to the still body of the Eminence for him to immediately obey. 'Well?'

'This book and a number like it originated in the town of Fayence, Madam. They were acquired by the Hall of Proscribed Knowledge quite some years ago.'

That sounded about right, Kali thought. 'And their original owner?'

'A gentleman by the name of Bastian Redigor.'

The name hung in the air for a second.

'The Pale Lord,' Kali said.

The curator looked almost sheepish. 'The Pale Lord,' he repeated. 'They were confiscated from his estate.'

'Where the bastard must have trapped them before he was banished.'

'Trapped?'

Kali sighed in exasperation. 'Just what did you think we were dealing with here, Mister Curator? One of his collection of pop-up books?'

'No… I… oh, Lord of All, what do we do?'

Kali leapt from shelf to shelf again, veering mid-course so as not to bring the tapers that targeted her closer to the curator. He'd doubtless ask them to keep the noise down just before they ripped out his heart too. 'We find a way to stop these things,' she advised. 'You get yourself and everyone else the hells out of here.'

The curator looked non-plussed. 'But my readers do not like their studies disturbed!'

Kali couldn't quite believe what she heard. Staring at the ever thickening spine of the book, she was about to explain that unless they all departed right now there was every chance they wouldn't be going anywhere, ever again. All of a sudden the spine of the book exploded and the entire section of the library in which they stood or clung was filled with a tree-sized growth of the things, thrashing toward the ceiling. The curator needed no more convincing and turned and ran, screaming to Kali to please, please, please not damage his books.

Kali flung a glance towards Gabriella, who stood with Slowhand, staring in horror at what had manifested itself, here, in the very heart of her faith. Kali understood, this was the same magic that had taken Makennon — something dark and very, very old that the Engines had not subdued like normal thread magic, that might even be