The Quest for Karn

“And this does not affect you?” Venser said.

“This arm,” Tezzeret said. “Is made of etherium, as you know. I had to collect it painstakingly over time, from bodies sometimes. I found them anywhere I could. I pulled them dead out of gutters after bar fights.”

Venser stared at the beast standing before him.

“From filth and weak flesh,” Tezzeret said, “to this purity.” He flexed his shining arm. “Phyrexians strive to have flesh, to be of flesh. They fail to see that flesh is what makes them dirty and weak.”

Elspeth’s sobs continued. Suddenly Venser was very tired and he felt as though he might be sick. Sick from what Tezzeret was telling him. Sick from what he had just seen. No, there was a level he would not pass. You could offer him four etherium limbs and he would not take them if the metal had to be extracted from bodies. “Why did you bring us here?” Venser said wearily.

Tezzeret raised his etherium arm and pointed. “For her.”

Tezzeret’s finger pointed to a cage on the far wall. Koth was closer, and he moved toward it, stepping carefully over the lumped bodies of the Phyrexians. It took Venser longer to reach the cage. Koth was already peering in by the time he arrived. Venser looked at the cage’s lock, which resembled nothing so much as a human heart of pocked metal. The artificer whispered words of power, moving mana to his hands from his head, and put his fingers into the lock’s suddenly pliable metal. He moved his fingers around until the door swung open. Inside, a figure lay on the floor. Koth walked into the cage. Soon he came out with the female human. She was dressed in leather, an unusual material to use for clothes on Mirrodin, Venser knew. Must be from another plane, he thought. Aside from that she appeared a normal human, except she needed a good scrubbing.

Venser turned to Tezzeret.

“Do you notice anything about her?” Tezzeret said.

Elspeth stopped crying. She looked at the human.

“No,” Venser said. “A human from somewhere else.”

“Is she from somewhere else?”

“She’s not Mirran,” Koth said.

“No?” Tezzeret said.

“She’s got no metal,” Koth said, looking at the human with barely hidden disgust.

“Ahhh,” Tezzeret said.

“What is your name?” Venser said.

The woman did not answer. She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

“Do you have a name?” Koth said.

“Leave her be,” Elspeth said thickly. “Can you not see she is shocked to be free? Unlock the other cages. Let the wretches out.”

“I would not do that,” Tezzeret said.

“Why?” Venser said.

“They are mostly Phyrexian. They would strive to kill you. This place studies Phyrexian transformation.”

“But she has no phyresis,” Koth said, staring at the woman. “Not any that I can see.”

Tezzeret nodded. His little smile reappeared. “Exactly.”

Venser looked back at the woman. All flesh and no infection, he thought. As he watched, she teetered and then sat down abruptly.

Tezzeret gestured to the woman. “They have been looking at this fleshling for some time. She does not succumb to the oil that spreads their infection. That is why she is not mangled. They pour the oil on her. They inject it under her skin. Still she defies infection. Nobody knows why.”

“She is the key to fighting their vile spread,” Elspeth said.

Tezzeret nodded.

“And how are you not infected?” Koth said.

“I have certain other advantages,” Tezzeret said. “Leading among these is my facility with etherium.”

“But look at her,” Koth said. “What I see here is something made to slow us down. This thing cannot travel with us.”

The fleshling’s head was weaving.

“Is that blood?” Elspeth said.

They rushed over to where the fleshling was sitting. Blood was running freely around her on the metal floor. Venser walked around her looking for the wound. The leather rags she was wearing were sodden on her back. He carefully pulled the leather back, and saw a yawning incision barely held together with crude, pocked staples.

“I am inclined to agree with Koth,” Venser said. “How can we move quickly with such a wounded one?”

“Have you seen nothing, artificer?” Tezzeret challenged. “This one is not infected by the plague. That does not interest you?”

“What interests me is your motivation for giving us this being.”

Tezzeret smiled. “And what a gift.”

Elspeth hurried around behind the fleshling. Just then a shiver went through the muscle of the room’s flesh wall. At the far end of the room a single eye snapped open and the golden iris dilated as it took in the light. It pivoted in its socket and focused on the companions. Then it snapped shut.

“This is not as good as it could be,” Tezzeret said. He pointed to the door they had come in. Four of his chrome Phyrexians scrabbled to the doorway and hunched, waiting.

A part of the wall near the eye shook and a crease appeared, and then two tight lips opened to reveal sharp teeth. The teeth parted and the mouth, as large as Venser, opened wide. A shriek came from the mouth.

Tezzeret turned to Venser. “You have moments. That is an alarm.”

Venser looked back at the fleshling. He knew Elspeth wanted to take the thing, and that Koth did not. His would be the deciding vote.

“She is the only being I have ever met to have this natural ability,” Tezzeret said.

Venser knew he was right. Imagine the planes and people they could help if they could find out why she was immune. Imagine if Karn was infected and the fleshling could somehow bring him back to himself.

“She travels with us,” Venser said.

Koth stomped his foot.

“She has a long cut on her back,” Elspeth said, looking up from the fleshing. “I will try to at least close it so we can move.”

“Flee, I would say,” Tezzeret said. “Separately these creatures can be dealt with. But in the numbers that are rushing toward our location currently …” Tezzeret shrugged.

From the cavern on the other side of the doorway a muffled clatter broke the silence, then another.

Koth ran to the doorway. Venser went with him. Elspeth kneeled behind the fleshling, chanting. A milky glow radiated around the two. The chrome Phyrexians looked nervously over their shoulders at Elspeth, of all people. They fear the white warrior, Venser thought. But he had no time to ponder the question. A deep growling roar sounded on the other side of the doorway.

“I’ll go have a quick look,” Venser said. He closed his eyes. The mana moved into his ears and through his eye sockets and nose, sucking into his brain. In his mind’s eye he saw the location in the cavern. He imagined he was hopping and when the pop occurred in his ears he opened his eyes. He was standing in a far corner of the cavern. He could see the glowing doorway and the blue Phyrexians staring out. He looked to the right before snapping back into the doorway.

“There are many,” he said. “And some huge Phyrexian I have not seen before, with a white shell for a head and shoulders. It has many arms and a steely body and legs.”

Tezzeret was behind him. “A bastion,” he said.

“Is that good or bad?” Koth said.

“It is not good,” Tezzeret said. “It was once white. Those are the worst ones: the ones that were crusaders. If there is one, then there will be more.”

“I cannot close this wound,” Elspeth yelled from the other side of the room. The shriek continued, just high enough to stick in Venser’s ears and keep him from thinking quickly. “Keep trying,” he said. “Can we jump down the screaming mouth?” he said to Tezzeret.

“I don’t know,” Tezzeret said. “You might be able to. Watch the teeth.”