Page 53

“And if they had cleaners, how did they avoid getting smashed to bits?” asked Galen.

“Perhaps there’s a way to turn the entire mechanism off,” said Piper. He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Probably there is, and it’s clearly labeled in three languages that nobody reads any more, and it’s currently somewhere under the river. But either they didn’t clean out this room before whatever event caused them to abandon this place or…” He trailed off, uncertain what the alternative would be.

Earstripe tossed in another apple and said, “A gnole doesn’t want to alarm anyone, but a door isn’t closing.”

“No…” said Galen thoughtfully. “No, it isn’t, is it? And it’s been more than thirty seconds by now.”

“Nearly a minute by my guess.”

Earstripe tossed in another apple.

A blade shot out from the pile of bone, and speared the apple in midair. Piper recoiled in surprise. Galen slapped for a sword that no longer hung at his waist.

From out of the mound of debris, a machine began to rise. It was hard at first to tell what was part of the living machine and what were broken pieces of dead ones. Piper had an impression of a body like a slender scorpion, equipped with a blade instead of a stinger. Its legs rose above the level of its back like a spider, and instead of heavy claws, it had two long, thin appendages, like an insect’s feelers.

“It’s injured,” whispered Galen. “Look!”

It was indeed. It had five legs on one side, but only two on the other, and one of the thin feelers was dragging on the ground. It looked as if it had taken a serious pounding at some point.

It must be over a thousand years old. And it’s been injured all this time.

The scorpion used its good feeler to scrape the apple off the blade. It turned toward the doorway, and even though it was eyeless, Piper swore he could feel it looking at them.

“A gnole thinks the machines fought here,” said Earstripe quietly.

“Like a cock fight,” said Galen. “The ones that survive the obstacle course get here and fight the ones that got through before them.”

“Cock fighting is barbaric,” said Piper, recognizing as he did so that it was a profoundly unhelpful observation.

“You know, the Bishop says the same thing.”

The scorpion took a jerky step toward the door, then another one.

Piper’s first thought was that it wouldn’t be able to go through the door. The other rooms had all been safely enclosed. But if this is a machine made to run the obstacle course, not one of the traps, why wouldn’t it come out? And the door’s been open for much longer than a minute.

“Maybe it isn’t supposed to fight humans?” he said hopefully.

“Had no problem fighting apples.”

“So what do we do now?” asked Piper, taking several steps back.

“I’m going to fight it,” said Galen. “Obviously.”

“How is that obvious?!” he hissed, but any answer was lost when the scorpion machine charged.

Twenty-Three

“Get out of the way!” shouted Galen, dodging to one side of the doorway as the tail-blade smashed into the floor where he’d been standing. “Get back!”

“You don’t have a sword!” Piper yelled behind him.

This was true, but Galen was quite aware that a sword made of steel would be only emotional support. Whatever substance the machines were made from was only vulnerable to attacks from other machines.

Fortunately, there was an entire room full of broken machine parts that he could use.

Unfortunately, the scorpion-thing was standing between him and it.

He could feel the black tide beginning to rise, like water swirling around his waist and creeping higher. The taste of iron filled his mouth.