Before going anywhere near the death crab, Arne buckled his sword belt back on and then approached with caution. Dia just marched up to the opened and splayed-out monstrosity lying in the shadow of a blanket tarpaulin, cut into so many intricate slices that it was reaching at least twice the circumference it had when its finger legs had been attached normally.
Arne edged closer. The middle of the thing featured an assortment of different deflated-looking organs of unknown purpose and in the middle, Toog held a grey, fleshy flap aside. Like the petals of a flower, a very slimy, fleshy flower with a distinct smell of egg farts and cilantro, a series of lamellae protected a small growth at the centre of the organism. A growth that looked disturbingly like a fist sized infant with dark skin, pointy ears and white tousled hair sticking to its not finished features.
Arne’s hand slowly went and rested on the hilt of his sword. “So, fire or should we just hack it to pieces or …better idea, let’s do both,” he suggested.
Toog nodded, looking at the thing. “Or we could feed it.”
“Ehh…” Arne said.
“No, think about it,” Toog insisted.
“No. I’d rather not?”
“If this is something it built in a few moments after meeting Dia,” Toog began.
“And by meeting, you mean attacking and attaching itself to the back of my neck to suck the life out of me?” Dia interrupted.
“Exactly,” Toog said. “Then maybe that’s how the torture-priestess seemed human but wasn’t, because she was a reproduction of the original. I think I figured it out, but we need confirmation! It solves the problem with the cactus berry.”
Arne sighed. “Can't we please just do an educated assumption and be happy with that?”
“Well…” Toog said. “I guess we could. But really, I can solve the question of whether or not to be thorough in just two words.”
Arne said nothing, mesmerised in fascinated disgust by the thing that looked like a baby but was possibly a malignant magical growth.
“Fine, I’ll bite,” Dia said. “What words?”
“The. Vampire,” Toog said, snapping Arne out of his horror-baby reverie.
He sighed. “Alright, so… what exactly is it you want to do?”
“I'm thinking Dia can feed it,” Toog stated.
Dia’s face was a mask of disgust. “I am not letting that thing anywhere near my nipples!“
“I mean with life magic,” Toog clarified. “Can't you take some energy from a palm tree or something and smash it into the thing?”
“Ah,” Dia said. “Got it! Stand back.”
“No! That doesn’t mean you should actually–“ Arne began, but Dia just held out a hand towards a palm tree at the edge of the small oasis. The tall palm burst into flames immediately and all the fronds shrivelled up, caught fire and fell to the sand as Dia held out her other hand to the strange Dia baby growth.
Subtle, effervescent light coursed under her skin and infused the flesh thing’s mass. And it began to grow. Very slowly at first, as if absorbing the energy into it hesitantly, and then suddenly a grownup sized hand emerged, shooting disjointedly from the baby. Then the spine seemed to stretch horribly, making cracks appear in the far too stretched skin of the thing’s belly and then a leg began sprouting at the same time blood began pulsing out of the stretch wounds as a far too big heart began forming itself, hideously distending the chest.
When the head followed, still with sightless half formed eyes and a shapeless baby nose, Arne drew his weapons and stepped aside. “Dia!” he warned. “Stop it!”
The thing kept growing. One breast suddenly inflated on the chest, the open wounds knitting themselves halfway shut.
“Dia, fucking stop it, that’s enough!” Arne demanded.
“I'm not doing anything. I stopped palming it a lot of organs ago!” Dia snapped.
“Just let it play out!” Toog shouted, taking a quick step backwards when the flesh thing suddenly wobbled under the weight of a freshly formed leg and tumbled over, the remnants of the finger-legged death crab still attached to the back of the thing’s neck.
And then came the scream. An eye formed, broke through the lids that had not yet separated, and kept forming as the lips began tearing apart when the jaw grew, and the high pitched, monotone scream came from the bloody orifice in the head. Sharp and awful and with no breath or lilt or pause, it cut through Arne’s consciousness like a saw and silenced all thoughts he had.
He was very certain he was screaming too but could not hear it. Dia put her hands over her ears, mouth open in a scream and Toog was just looking at the ever-inflating thing, wobbling and flopping hideously around in the sand at their feet.
Arne didn’t give himself time to think. The weapons were in his hands, and he shouldered Dia aside and swung both blades in unison, one tearing through the freshly made sinew of the neck, the other connecting in a spurt of blood with the side of the creature’s face. Then he felt Dia next to him, arm outstretched towards the flesh thing the other leading the energy away. The creature’s scream became a heaving, warbling breath and then stopped, and the undulating flesh finally laid still.
There was still a scream happening, though. Next to him, Dia’s mouth was open, and she was screaming in a different tone. Then she closed her mouth and stood still, looking at the bent and awful thing in the sand, which now laid still in a mess of arms and legs.
“Move!” he heard Toog scream, and suddenly both he and Dia were hit when Toog tackled them to the ground.
A burning palm tree fell where they had just stood, engulfing the flesh monster in flames. They all scrambled away from the flames and burning flesh in an unruly heap.
There were a few moments of silence.
Then Toog began to laugh. Hysterically.
Arne lifted himself up to look at the monster now covered by the burning palm tree that had caught fire when Dia sucked the life out of the flesh beast. The blood from his ears dripped onto his hand. Unless the thing had straight up eaten them, this could not have gone worse, he thought. And began to laugh.
“I’m never taking orders from Toog again,” Dia stated categorically and began laughing too.
o-0-o
‘I’ll just wrap up my drawings and wring the last information out of it. It will take a few hours’, Toog had said, roughly nine hours ago. Arne had built a fire, now that the palm tree had gone out, made food, sat around staring at Toog dissecting the burned Dia beast and taking notes, run in circles around the camp in the hot sand when the sun was low in the sky, unpacked, packed, unpacked and packed his meagre belongings and picked camel wool off the shedding, smelly animals.
The thought of what he would be doing if he was home in Arabesk sometimes reared its ugly head and was immediately decapitated so he didn’t risk going to pieces inside more than he already was. Dia had responded to the post palm tree-laughing by stretching and declaring that she was going to sleep, and she had proceeded to do exactly that, curling up again under the sun-sail and immediately dozing off. She’d been doing that ever since.
In the beginning, Arne had kept moving, sure they would be travelling on again towards Estrin within an hour or two, but that hope was slowly growing small as the day progressed with Toog still thoroughly engrossed in the anatomy of the Dia-beast and tiredness creeping up on him.
He had been keeping an eye on the southern and eastern horizon all day but nobody showed up to bother them for having murdered a nice horny couple in Crackerv– Yildiz and fled the scene after also mysteriously killing a group of concerned citizens coming to investigate the hubbub. Probably no real reason to be skittish since they weren’t in the habit of leaving witnesses. …And that was about the most sensible thing he could say about them as a group.
Dia woke up at the same time as Toog staggered over to the fire and sat down in an exhausted heap.
Dia stretched noisily. “Where’s the food?” she demanded.
Arne held the bag of bread, dried fruit and meats out. “You are taking first watch. Toog has worked all day and I have been bored.”
“Poor you,” Dia stated noncommittally.
Toog grabbed the bag from her and rummaged around before giving it back. “I need to sleep now. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about the big heap of nothing-pie I found.”
Arne got up and dislodged the blanket that had kept Toog in the shade the majority of the day. It was miraculously only a little singed and still useful. He held it out to Toog who took it with a nod and then took the space Dia had occupied under the shade sail.
Arne found another blanket and rolled up in it next to the fire. He gave both the utterly dissected Dia beast and Dia a good stare before he laid down, weapons within reach.
“What?” Dia asked, chewing a piece of fruit. “I can keep watch over that thing. I’ll wake you for the shitty middle of the night watch, though. Unless you give me a good reason to pick Toog.”
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“I kept you shaded all day and now I gave you food which we wouldn’t have had unless I’d been a quick planner and organiser back in the tavern yesterday?”
“Hmm,” Dia said. “I’ll mull it over.”
Rolling his eyes, Arne curled up and almost immediately fell asleep.
o-0-o
Arne smiled, as sleep retracted its claws from his mind. It was like floating on the warmth of knowing he was loved, cared for, important. Slowly, with a happy sigh, Arne opened his eyes. The fire. It was beautiful. Dying, but beautiful, and the brilliant stars in the black heavens were like a million scattered diamonds on a black silken cloth.
Why would the fire be dying? Dia was right there. Sitting rigid with her back to the warmth. Didn’t she notice?
“This is just a small thing in my army. An extension of me.”
…The voice was strange. Deep, but not as deep as it should be. Wet, but nowhere near as wet as it should– Wet? Arne shook himself from the warm, loving embrace of the half-sleep state he found himself in and forcefully pushed himself into a sitting position. His head cleared immediately and coming back to cold, crisp reality was brutal like a kick to the face.
“What is the pointed star?” he heard Dia ask in her normal, demanding, annoying voice.
“Dia?” Arne asked, getting to his feet quickly and looking at the shapeless corpse of the Dia beast. It was still shapeless and a corpse, as far as he could tell. He quickly buckled on his weapon belt as he walked around the fire to look at her.
“A star drawn far across the oceans and Arabesk and Uldran Underwaves are some. Three have been unlocked already, my sweet little …Kitty; and look, your dear friend has awoken.” The voice came from Dia’s open mouth; her lips didn’t move to produce it.
Arne looked her over, alarmed. She was looking at him with a warning look in her eyes, though he didn’t know what she was warning him against. Approaching, leaving, engaging the voice, staying silent? Killing her? Not killing her?
“Yes, Kitty, I'm awake now?” Arne ventured hesitantly. He had an instinct towards nudging Toog awake, but a quick flash of the tortured priestess speaking without moving her lips and Toog responding by slow decapitation made him pause.
“Kitty is happy to see that, I can tell,” the voice came from Dia’s unmoving lips, dripping of sarcasm.
“Hey, we are not friends!” Dia stated hotly as soon as the Voice left her lips. “I don’t have friends!”
“Not even me?” the Voice sounded from her mouth. “I would have so much to offer you if we became friends.”
“Could you begin with who you are?” Arne asked. “I seemed to have missed the introductory part.” He stayed on his feet though Dia was still stubbornly sitting with her back to the dying fire.
“Oh, I do apologise,” the Voice sounded.
“Stop fucking chatting with it! It’s annoying enough that it responds to me!” Dia snapped.
“She’s very particular about everything, isn’t she? Kitty, our dear officiant.” The Voice sounded like it was having fun.
“Why did you pick me?” Dia asked.
“Why, because you stuck your face in my army, of course!” came the reply.
“…I really wish you hadn’t phrased it like that,” Dia muttered.
“But there we are, Kitty,” the Voice said. “We are now connected because of your actions, and all the petty damage you do will inevitably lead you to realise that you are fighting a force so vast that your efforts do not matter. So I am here to encourage you to work with me instead.”
Dia burst out laughing. “As if! Only wimp runts negotiate!” she stated.
“Perhaps you should take that up with your friend, Arne? If he had been given the chance to negotiate for the lives of his people, maybe he would have taken it?” the Voice suggested and Dia looked up at Arne, whose hand was now resting on his weapon. She got to her feet.
“You stay the fuck away or I will end you, is that clear!” she barked at him.
Arne took a few steps back and held up his hands in a calming gesture. “I won't harm you, Dia, relax,” he said calmly. “Let’s just have a conversation with your new friend, alright?”
“No! We don’t need shit from a disembodied voice that steals my vocal cords without asking. Consent is important, damn it! We are done!” She closed her mouth and then began a strange, twisting, facial power struggle.
Arne just looked on, fascinated by the absurd spectacle of a woman fighting her own facial muscles. Then Dia’s mouth shot open and a heavy, dark, gurgled laughter emerged. She furiously put her hands over her mouth but couldn’t dampen the sound.
“Ah, a good laugh is extremely healthy. Like the fun we will have when we reclaim our rightful place on this plane,” the Voice stated. “We are so close; you should join the effort to call us. Two more points of the star must be unlocked, and then we can be together in glorious, eternal harmony. If you become my servants, you can leave behind your cumbersome, quarrelling little personalities and do great works to change the world instead. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
“Yes, lovely. So, about those star points? What do you mean when you say they are opened?” Arne cut in, ignoring Dia’s angry glare.
“I mean what I say. The prison the gods made is cracking now, and the cracks are big enough to begin to squirm through. Aren’t you delighted, Arne? Perhaps you want to join us too, like sweet little Kitty here?” the Voice asked.
“Well, no, not at this time. I really prefer knowing people before I make deals with them, you know. Nothing personal, just a professional preference.”
“Oh, you are funny, aren’t you?” the Voice sounded while Dia glared furiously at him. “I like you. Don’t worry, I'm not going anywhere. I’ll just tag along nice and quiet. There will be plenty of time for us to get acquainted.” Dia’s mouth seemed to suddenly be given over to her own control and she closed it, putting both hands over it firmly.
Arne looked at her in the ensuing silence, while Toog slowly came over. “Did you hear all that?” he asked.
Toog nodded.
“Speak up!” Dia demanded in her own voice, though very loudly.
“Why?” Arne asked, bad feelings falling over each other to be picked first.
“I can't hear you. The little ass-monger is laughing!” Dia half-shouted, gesturing to her ears. “In my head.”
“Can't you do some kind of magic to get rid of it?” Toog asked.
“What?” Dia shouted.
“Magic!” Toog yelled.
“Magic? Like how? I can damage my ears but it’s in my head,” she shouted. “I can hear it in here.” She pointed her fingers around her head as if to indicate inside the skull. “Stand back!” both Toog and Arne had learned to respect that command, and both retreated quickly. A palm tree burst violently into flames, Dia's skin shimmered with a subtle glow for a moment and then the embers of the previous palm tree exploded leaving a crater in the sand where their campfire had been.
“No, it did nothing,” Dia shouted.
“Well, can you find some way to banish it then?” Toog shouted.
“What if we burn the Dia death crab?” Arne yelled.
“What?” Dia shouted, indicating her ears. “He’s laughing really loudly. You’ll have to shout.”
Wincing, Arne marched over and dragged the picked apart death crab to where the fire was. Then he and Toog retreated, and Dia set another palm tree on fire by stealing its vitality in a rush and channelling it into the flesh of the torn and half-finished Dia. The remains of the creature burst into flames, withered, and singed, and Dia retreated as it folded in on itself in the blaze with a few small fizzles of boiling body fluids. They all looked at it for a long while, standing there shoulder by shoulder in the icy desert night, watching the half-made creature burn. Then one of the burning palm trees collapsed, spooking the camels that brayed loudly and tore at their tethers.
Arne rolled his eyes. There were many, many layers of ridiculous to this, and he felt every one of them keenly while he tried to plan his way out of this nightmare.
“Still there?” he finally asked Dia.
“What?” she shouted.
“Right,” Arne muttered. “This is how it is going to happen,” he yelled loudly. He took a few steps away from Dia and nudged Toog to do the same. “I swear, we will not hurt you, but that thing is our enemy, and we cannot let it know what we intend to do or where we intend to go. You understand?”
“Sure, but I don’t trust you. I don’t care what you swear. You’re a criminal and a murderer. That’s what I know about you. So fuck you. Don’t come closer or I will kill you.” Dia informed. Apart from the raised voice, it sounded like she was remarkably relaxed with that arrangement.
“Good,” Arne just nodded. “We will just go and make a plan,” he yelled.
“No way! You stay where I can see you. You are not sneaking up on me!”
Arne took the lightstone from his belt pocket and held it up for her to see. Then he threw it into the air a good distance from the little oasis. The bluish light illuminated a generous patch of desert sand. “We will go there. You can see us but not hear us. Alright?” he shouted.
Dia gave them both a middle finger salute, which Arne took as confirmation.
“Light. I like it. It’s a nice touch. That’s a useful thingy,” Toog said conversationally and sat down in the sand, looking back at Dia who was visible in the light from the burning palm trees. She marched back and forth with her hands over her ears and then began kicking the burning trees.
“She’s going to set herself on fire…” Arne said tiredly and sat down next to Toog. “So, this is bad.”
“Yep. We don’t know how good those things are at stars, but if Dia looks up, it might be able to pinpoint our location,” Toog said looking up at the myriad blazing dots in the night sky.
“Or if it remembers us from Cracker– Yildiz from yesternight. If it knows geography, it knows we are going to Estrin, since it knows what happened in Arabesk, and we know there’s likely Family in Estrin. If it can communicate with the others somehow, and we have to assume so, then the moment it knows where we are, the tentacles and whatever else it can field will be all over us.”
“Yeah… So…” Toog nodded calmly.
“Killing her is the easy solution, yes.” Arne nodded. “Then, of course, there is The Vampire. We don’t know how she will feel about it.”
“I mean, we can just keep her sedated. I can smack her up on some drugs, no problem, I have the materials to mix some potent stuff. Afterwards, though…”
They both gave hung over, drug addicted, pissed off Dia a few seconds of thought.
“Yeah, so we blindfold her and stick her in a box?” Arne asked. “If we are quick and take the risk of getting back on the main coast road, we can be in Estrin in about a week. Six days’ journey, if nothing awful happens. It just means we have to rent a perfectly blank and featureless room every night and make sure she doesn’t see anything or hear anything that can pinpoint our location to the Voice.”
“Or just take our time out here?” Toog said.
“We could. But then at least we have to veer off back to civilisation and get supplies. I didn’t plan for a week’s worth of desert trekking.”
“What? But you are planning and organising-guy!” Toog said and grinned.
“No. I’m charm, remember? Planning and organising-guy died with his network in the Monkey.”
“Monkey?” Toog asked, puzzled.
“The Flayed Monkey? The name of the bar where they all died?”
“Right. Got it. That monkey. Yeah. Thought I’d missed something.” Toog nodded. “So, what was the plan in Estrin?”
“We …find a temple. We see if we can find a kind cleric who can evict the Voice or bind it somehow. It said something about the prison of the gods. Maybe we can find out what gods. You know anything about this?” Arne asked.
“What? Gods? No. Why would I?”
Arne shrugged. “Just random hope. But a priest of some god thing would be able to bind it, right?”
“I don’t know. But it seems a good bet. Whatever the tentacles are, if the gods imprisoned them at some point, that should work, right?”
“Actually, they should be fixing their own damned problems, shouldn’t they?” Arne added. “If this is a god-problem, what the Hells are we doing poking our noses in it?”
Toog patted his shoulder. “Lead with that, Charm. Maybe rephrase it a bit, but you got the gist.”
Arne grinned. “So, hurry to Estrin with Dia in a box, go to a temple, get rid of the Voice and continue to bother the Family. We need to figure out what it meant with …points of a star that have been opened?”
“I don’t know. Sounds like it is counting down until the prison breaks? As if the Family houses are working to release them and that right now, they can only be here in small instances,” Toog thought aloud.
“You said the thing solved the cactus berry.” Arne nodded towards the burning oasis where Dia was now shouting furiously for the Voice to stop laughing while she paced back and forth.
“Yes. We fed the vitality berry to the woman, she was pulled onto the alter, magicked into the room with the pool where the big tentacle, maybe, was waiting with a death crab. Then she was subdued, and the death crab sat on her. It makes sense making a death crab copy of her would take a few hours, so she wasn’t killed, and the vitality wasn’t stolen. Then, when the new version of her was done, it sucked all the life out of her to power itself–“ Toog made a wet, slurping sound, “or maybe it just shoved her into the pool and the place where they come from, the berry vanished or dispersed or whatever and the copy went on its meaty way.”
Arne's face twisted in disgust. “Seafood is just never going to be the same. I used to really like cactus berries, too.”
Toog nodded wisely. “It’s the season of ruination, Charm.”