Chapter 16

Seroin quickly pressed her hand over Tomga's mouth, silencing him mid-sentence.

Two figures strolled past their hiding place, a dense pile of rubbish.

‘Are you sure? Here?’ The voice sounded annoyed and rough.

‘The blood detector is off. Definitely.’

Those words sounded young and eager for action. ‘Someone must be here, I'm telling you.’

The rough voice hissed mockingly. ’Not even a week as a zoo keeper and you're already chasing criminals, huh? Let me tell you, the citizens are smart enough to keep their hands off the cages, this won't end well. But if it makes you feel better, dig out the detector and turn it on again. You'll pay for the next round of tea.’

At these words, Seroin stared in panic at Tomga's hand, or rather at the fine cut on his thumb.

There was a clinking, whirring sound. ‘I'm telling you, look. It's going off, loud. There must be someone nearby, really close.’

The rough voice smacked its lips in agreement. ‘Maybe you're not so dumb after all. Good. Call the others. We'll track down whoever...’

The shattering of a glass bottle hissed in all their ears. A young man staggered towards the two guards, apparently drunk. ’Many will die, you know?’

A malicious chuckle followed from the rough voice. ‘What do we have here? A confused party animal. And you dropped your booze, that's not very nice.’

The young man's voice swayed up and down. ’Everything will be destroyed. Everything. Under steel and rust. If you keep going like this, just keep going.’

Seroin dared to peek out.

She couldn't really make out the two guards in front of their hiding place, but she could see the young man clearly.

He was swaying even while standing, his sea-blue eyes darting wildly around and his honey-brown hair looking badly matted. Nevertheless, a smile played on his lips. ‘I keep forgetting how beautiful it is to live here, to breathe. That's why I like coming here, yes, yes. I'll miss the city, very much.’

The guard with the rough voice, now recognisable as a bearded, crooked man, grabbed the boy by the shoulders. ‘You can let a few A.M.I.s wander over first, then you can go, lad.’

The boy grinned blankly at the man. ‘You'll soon be lying here dead on the ground, struck down by bigger men! All because of your arrogance.’

‘Are you threatening me?!’ The man punched the boy hard in the stomach.

The young man collapsed on the ground, but did not cry out. Instead, his smile grew deeper and deeper. ‘The last thing you'll ever do in your life is run away pathetically, your eyes full of tears.’

The crooked man took off his jacket and laid it down next to the pile of rubbish, the jingle of a bunch of keys inside it audible. He kicked the boy hard in the groin with relish. ’You sick junkies have no business here!’

The fresh voice, now recognisable as a slim woman, held her colleague by the shoulder. ‘He's had enough. We've got our perpetrator. Come on, let's throw him out. Good to know the detectors are still working.’

The boy on the ground let himself be pulled up without resistance. ’You'll function again. You've been away too long, but you'll function again. And then we'll baptise you all in steel and blood.’

‘Poor bastard.’ The woman supported the boy and pulled him away.

The crooked man grabbed his jacket and put it around his shoulders, but not before Seroin could steal the bunch of keys from it.

A few breaths later, they were alone again and Tomga stood up from the rubbish. ’Beating up a poor drunk like that.’

‘He was being cheeky.’ Seroin wiped the dirt off his clothes. ’And thanks to that idiot, we now have a few more keys. So come on. Let's find the child of Ideas and move on.’

The Badazan Zoo was surrounded by a small wall, an easy obstacle for experienced thieves and mercenaries from the city. The enclosures, on the other hand, were better protected. Gigantic cages were scattered across the vast area of the zoo, each one a steel semicircle. Inside was a moat surrounded by a plateau. Badazan didn't really try to create a habitat for all the captive creatures and figures; it was more reminiscent of countless pedestals protected by a steel display case. Some cages had wide mesh, making it easy to see inside.

Others were extremely tightly meshed, forcing one to guess what lurked within. A wide variety of noises emanated from the cages, some wild animal cries, others sounding like cries for help.

The rubbish left behind by the day's visitors lay around each enclosure.

‘Inhumane!’ Tomga was increasingly outraged by the contents of each enclosure. “No matter who they fought for, you can't do that to anyone.” He gestured towards an enclosure, where a lone man stood in the middle.

The stranger, wrapped in rags, stared up at them desperately, not daring to say a word.

On the enclosure were the words: Cursed by Defala, a Vam Ir, Elf of Nothingness, colloquially known as a vampire.

Seroin snorted in annoyance. ‘It's just one. He's not an attraction here anymore. And we don't have time to open every cage. I thought the Vam Ir fought against you and good old Diersa. What do you care who's in chains here?’

‘Honest imprisonment, yes, but such a display. Disgusting, even Defala didn't deserve this.’ Tomga glanced sadly at the Vam Ir and hurried back to Seroin's side.

She just giggled amusedly and pointed to the next enclosure. ‘Should we let everyone out here? Are all the cages here just filled with remnants from the war?’

The knight suddenly paused. “No, no, some cages must remain closed.” He cautiously approached the steel of the next cage.

The enclosure was significantly taller and wider than the others, almost large enough to enclose a magnificent castle. The biggest difference between it and the others was the cage's bars. Instead of allowing a glimpse inside, the steel was so dense and tightly woven that one might think whatever was waiting behind it was meant to be buried.

Suddenly there was a loud thunderclap, a dull yet massive blow banging against the cage inside the enclosure. There was a hissing sound, damp and gurgling, yet loud like a whale. Then there was a clattering behind the steel, seemingly coming from inside the enclosure. Countless legs and feelers seemed to search the enclosure again and again for a gap.

Tomga stood directly at the enclosure. ‘By Diersa. They should all be burned. You asked about them once, Seroin. I didn't think they could keep one captive here. In here. A valley-harp is lurking in here.’

At a nod from him, Seroin slowly approached the enclosure. ‘Valley... Valley-harp? Tomga, that creature in there sounds as big as a dragon. Maybe bigger...’

‘Significantly. The front part of its body is like a spider's, with long, jagged legs. The rear part of its body is long like a centipede, with countless legs tearing across the ground. Every one of its veins is full of poison. And inside lurk countless tiny young ones, ready to devour the next body they find. These monstrous spider creatures are called valley-harps because their webs span entire valleys. They are bigger than dragons, they hunt dragons.’

His gaze darkened. ‘Descendants of Iwika, spider of the paralysed lands, loyal servant of Defala. Their bodies are so large that an entire battle can take place in their shadow.’

Seroin swallowed once. ’Now don't try to talk me into some soldier's chatter and keep going. So she can stay in there, fine.’

‘I once stood in Iwika's shadow. I was once part of such a battle.’

Seroin didn't know what to make of these words, so she quickly stabbed her fork into her powder and increased her pace. Despite the effect of her indifference powder, she felt the knight's presence becoming more and more alien to her. Showing him the grave of the ice elf girl had perhaps been a step too far, a step too private. And that meant only one thing in Badazan.

‘Here!’ Tomga pointed to a small, angular building with an inviting entrance. In front of it lay a particularly large pile of stinking rubbish.

There were no guards to be seen, so Seroin circled around the walls and found a small, locked door at the back. With one of the keys, it slid open effortlessly.

But inside, they both paused. They were standing in a small chamber, no larger than an ordinary kitchen. The room was equipped from top to bottom like a garrison's armoury. Cupboards displayed countless glass balls filled with all kinds of lights and sparks. Ropes, shackles and nets hung from the walls, all marked with different magical runes. And in the middle of the chamber stood a loaded ballista, its bow drawn and its projectile aimed unerringly.

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The weapon was aimed at the only other door in the chamber. There stood a massive frame of steel and stone. It held an even thicker door, the spells on which made it shine like a lost rainbow.

Tomga hurriedly unloaded the ballista. ‘Barbarians, simple barbarians. They spear an idea child as if it were a beast. Seroin, help me with the door.’

But the young woman continued to stare in disbelief at the runes in the steel. ‘So many spells here... what requires so much power to be held? Tomga, I don't know if we can do this...’

But the knight only snapped at her. ’We've come too far and seen too many die. Come on, Seroin, open the door. If we can't find the girl, at least we'll free a demigod, come on!’

Hesitantly, Seroin stepped to his side. In her hand she held a small vial containing a strangely clear liquid. ‘Here, rub the oil on the steel. It won't help against all spells, but it will help some, and maybe that will be enough. Come on.’

They rubbed their hands in the strangely smelling oil and began to spread it on the door.

Immediately, some markings on the door lit up and disappeared, then the door itself began to shake.

‘You said the oil only helps against some of them?’ Tomga hesitantly took one hand off the steel as spots on the door began to rust and crumble.

Seroin did the same. ’That's not the oil anymore... something from inside must be...’

With these words, the mighty door crumbled like a wall of dust at their feet. Both of them couldn't help but take a step back, immediately recognising a silhouette in the room behind it. They held their breath and were surprised in many different ways.

A woman stepped through the frame, more elegant and natural than Seroin had ever seen. Her skin was ashen and raven-black curls fell from her head to her shoulders. The dress on her body seemed to be knitted from dark smoke itself, and her clear, grey eyes looked like the bleakest autumn sky. The woman's first step out of the frame swirled the dust from the door and gave her an aura of mystery.

Seroin lowered her hands and looked at the lady in absolute awe. The demigoddess appeared so wonderfully human.

The knight, on the other hand, immediately drew his sword. ‘Behind me, Seroin! Now! Get away, back!’

The lady in black looked at the elf, and a smile impossible for a human being appeared on her lips. ‘Tomga Balf. The lapdog of Arabara the judge. I remember you limping. Or did you just always look so broken and pathetic? Your despicable shell here in this disgrace of a city?’

‘Back! Seroin, arm yourself, the bullets, everything, now!’ Tomga barked his words with a panic never heard before, the steel in his hand shaking wildly.

All this infected Seroin. ’Why? We have the idea child. Now ask her, quickly. And then let's get out of here. What can she do to us?’

‘The maggot is talking about a plan beyond my liberation? Tomga, do you see yourself inferior to several masters, your useless shell a tool of many?’

Before the elf could answer, a dull sound boomed through the small chamber.

Seroin darted his gaze to the entrance door. ‘A detector?! Shit! Guards are coming, we have to get out of here, we...’

With the gait of a ruler, the stranger stepped through the chamber, Tomga dodging her like a blazing fire, pushing Seroin behind him. ‘Don't you dare. Not here. She hasn't done anything to you.’

‘Quiet, dog. I've been here too long, I understand the habit of this alarm. It's not those perverts with steel masks who defeated me who are coming. People of simple flesh and blood are coming. People who have been staring at me since my imprisonment here, reducing me to an image. And I will not let that be taken from me.’

The child of ideas stepped out of the room into the zoo, and only now did Seroin notice that each of her steps caused the ground beneath her feet to crumble to dust.

Outside, the zoo guards were already waiting. Two dozen men and women stood ready for battle in a semicircle in front of the door, including the crooked man and the thin woman from earlier. The sight of the demigoddess sent everyone into a fresh panic.

Next to them, the cries of the animals and prisoners in the zoo grew louder, a roar of all kinds screeching at them as if every creature wanted to cheer them on.

The idea child surveyed the troops in front of her. ‘Each of you stood at my door, and yet you never surrendered to the natural order, never thought of serving your superiors. I rotted away in a cell like a freshly picked apple in a dark chamber. And you brought mortal vermin to me, all of them staring at me, enjoying my shame. Nothing but oil on my fire, fuel for my hatred.’

She raised her arm in front of her and tensed it. ‘And yet, in the end, eternal life triumphs over vermin undeservedly blessed with intelligence. My name is Mula, the stroke of fate, second-born daughter of Fer, the Death. And today I have the right, the duty and the privilege to introduce you all to my father.’ She swung her arm and a soft bell rang.

Without screams, without pain and without warning, the guards fell dead to the ground before Mula, the child of ideas, their faces emotionless. With them, all the screams around her fell silent, and the sound of small and large animal bodies hitting the ground could be heard.

Drenched in sweat, Seroin fell to his knees. ‘What... what... how...’

Tomga kept his fearful gaze on Mula. ’The guards, yes. But why the animals here, the innocents in the cages?’

Mula took a deep breath and waved her hand through the air. ‘The orchestra of screams so often robbed me of the pleasant silence. Do I even need a justification? It is my world to rule as I see fit. Don't worry, I spared the valley-harp. I wouldn't treat an old comrade-in-arms like that.’

The guards' corpses crumbled to dust at her hand movement and were carried away by the wind.

‘That gave me satisfaction, strength. If I could, I'd do the whole city. Every day they stare at me, asking questions upon questions. So often they stood in front of me, young people, kissing as if my presence were disputed, as if I weren't there with them. Few things disgusted me as much as seeing those mortal creatures kissing. An act of the gods corrupted by these mouldering shells. They talk of planned celebrations and praise for their families. Instead, I will give them a new graveyard.’

Suddenly, a hint of worry flashed across her face. ‘But my words shall be few. We served on opposite sides in the Daumaje, Tomga Balf. But my lord Defala and your bitch Diersa are gone, leaving us behind. With them went all their Ideas and most of their children, my family. As one of the remaining ones with divine blood, I command you to take me out of this city. I want to seek out my older sister Ferl and consult with her. We must avoid these monsters with masks of steel; they are a travesty against our kind, humans who are meant to be more powerful than them.’

‘Defala? She served against you?’ There was sheer fear in Seroin's eyes.

‘She was one of the worst. Mula the Stroke of Fate, second daughter of Death. She served alongside Dordana, the vanishing seamstress, second daughter of forgetting. And Uptova, the Frost Silence, second daughter of Cold. The three of you have defiled and abused countless mortals on the side of Diersa. You were responsible for endless suffering.’

‘Ah, a fitting saying that brings back memories. Dordana and Uptova are also to be found. My old comrades and I are to forge plans against this city.’ Mula now examined Tomga more closely. ‘You are here because of the girl? Your little toy, whom you brought into your bed instead of your wife? I should have expected it, but something inside me thought Tomga Balf would be too cowardly to rush after a lost mistress.’

‘Where is she?’ The knight now actually lowered his sword. ‘When was she here?’

‘She prayed here, in front of me! Can you imagine it. A mortal child fell to the ground and prayed before Mula himself. In the past, this would have been a source of amusement and a sight worthy of death. But here, it felt good. Here, someone greeted me according to the old ways and customs. Wrong in the past, but now a last consolation. But tell me, dog of the Arabara, are you really here for her? Or for this?’

With a sweeping motion, Mula reached through the air and held something between her fingers.

There it was. The chain, the black, rusty steel. Clear and unmistakable, it finally sparkled within reach.

Immediately, an old focus returned to Seroin. She no longer needed the indifference powder in her pocket, now she had to keep every nerve on edge.

Mula clicked her tongue contemptuously. ‘You let something like that fall into the hands of a simple village whore?! I assume it was good old Arabara who gave you this steel and told you to watch over it. And you took such a task, like your marriage, rather weakly and brokenly, didn't you?’

The knight stepped forward. ‘The chain for me. And I'll get you out of here, even if I have to do it myself. You are a stranger to me, but you are a child of the Ideas. War is over, there are no two sides anymore, we must work together...’

‘No two sides?!’ Mula slowly raised his arm and pointed at Seroin. ‘Has it been so long since the Daumaje that you no longer recognise the first sparks of a coming new war? Those who do not recognise their side will be swallowed by the other. Balf, the thoughts of your companion are screaming out of her head. She wants this steel like no other!’

Tomga turned hesitantly to Seroin, his gaze marked by disappointed surprise.

The Idea child stood behind the knight and put his lips to his ear. ‘Diersa and Defala are no longer in this world; they are fighting other battles. But do you really think that peace and tranquillity reign here now? Don't you see a power in this city, a dormant force so contrary to our values and beliefs? Mortals against loyalty to the Ideas and their children, that is what characterises this time, that will set the continent ablaze once again. These are your new two sides.’

Tomga Balf narrowed his eyes in defeat. ‘They call themselves the new gods, yes. And the lady from the Wooden Surf told me that they are already pillaging the continent for raw materials. But...’

Mula nodded slowly, the movement like the ticking of an ancient clock. ‘The Council of Conciliators, the council full of children oft he Ideas, led by my big sister Ferl. They would act, but they see themselves as inferior to the inventions of human perversions. And the loss of a demigod would never be acceptable. A shaky calm still reigns between the two sides. Badazan, here on the western coast of the continent of Auervam. And Calicedam, on the eastern coast. The two cities remain silent.’

She lifted the chain out of the knight's view. ‘Until this city gets this steel. You have no right to know exactly what it is. But you must learn what it can do. This steel is like poison to the divine, a falsehood in itself. This steel treats us like mere mortals, degrading us to your fragile mortality.’ Her lips crept closer to his ear. ‘And now ask yourself, what exactly does your companion want here? Former inspector of the city, servant of this Shiverlip. Your thoughts are so easy to read. Do you want to know if she ever cared about the girl who brought me this steel?’

The knight's face flushed with burning grief at the betrayal. ’Never, I suppose.’

‘Correct.’

Seroin raised her hands appeasingly, something inside her screaming for help. ‘Tomga! Tomga, I didn't know anything about this! The steel, yes, it was only about the steel. But I didn't know what it was! I swear, by every A.M.I. in my bag, I swear. I was only supposed to bring the chain, but I didn't know anything else.’

Mula tilted her head to one side. ‘And then you decided to trade Mr Balf for something or someone called Young Harvest. What are your goals there, maggot?!’

Only a trembling stammer escaped Seroin's lips as she desperately searched for an answer, a solution, but no idea came to her aid.

‘As I see it...’ Mula straightened up again. ’If a mortal street rat fulfils all the formalities to classify her as a traitor and enemy of the Ideas, this here can be seen as a traitor, I can imagine.’

The knight did not disagree.

‘And for such an act, there is only one way I know how to deal with it, one gift we can offer this corrupt being.’

The knight did not disagree.

‘Vermin christened Seroin. Cast aside your worries and acknowledge your subordination to the will of the Ideas. I am sending you to my father.’

Tomga Balf looked Seroin in the eyes and nodded once firmly with rock-solid determination. ‘Kill her, Lady Mula.’

Seroin immediately turned on her heel and broke into a sprint, sweat, tears and panic etched on her features.

Mula chuckled softly once more, then struck the air again.

Seroin heard a bell toll, followed by the clatter of hooves. Then she hit the ground, dead.