Novels2Search

Chapter 16

Cooking was a simple pleasure. Oak watched pieces of corned beef and salted pork roasting over an open flame, salivating, just like the hound sitting next to him. The meat was sizzling already and the smell coming from the oven was divine.

After he and Geezer had finished their inspection of the barracks, Oak had decided to cook some supper for himself in the kitchen they had found next to a small mess hall near the entrance. Geezer had looked so forlorn that Oak had given him a couple of pieces of salted pork to chew on. Apparently, overly salty meat made Geezer sneeze violently.

Who knew it could be this entertaining to watch a hellhound eat?

Geezer swallowed another piece of meat and sneezed again. It was hard not to snigger, but somehow Oak managed it.

Supper was a meager but enjoyable affair. Oak said a quick prayer to Ashmedai, thanking the demon for his good fortune even though he knew it was mostly a fruitless endeavor in this city, forsaken by angels and demons alike. Then he dug in with vigor.

Corned beef and hardtack. A combination that was surely blessed by something outside of the material. Oak stuffed his face and almost wept with joy. It was a religious experience and he would fight anyone who claimed otherwise.

Licking fat from his fingers and thoroughly sated, Oak moved into one of the sleeping quarters next to the kitchen, Geezer following right behind him. He barricaded the door with a couple of bed frames and fell into a bunk that was so short his legs were hanging down to touch the floor. Geezer jumped onto the bed and settled on top of him like the world’s heaviest blanket.

For at least three hundred years the bunk had been lying there unused, and it was about as soft as the stone floor, but Oak was out like a light the moment he closed his eyes.

In the following morning, if it even was morning since it was impossible to tell time inside Ma'aseh Merkavah, he broke his fast, stocked up on food and water and said his goodbyes to the barracks.

Having a good night's sleep and a full belly did wonders for a man’s outlook on life. Oak felt light and strong. Clearly, his body and soul had adapted to the presence of the infernal engine and Ashmedai’s essence. There was a snap to his reflexes that had not been there before, and the difference in strength was noticeable. If the situation called for it, he might be able to suplex a horse.

No sooner did he delight in his newfound physical prowess than a notification popped up on the upper right corner of his vision.

Attunement complete.

Your body and soul are now in tune with your infernal engine.

* Body: slight increase in speed, strength and toughness.

* Soul: slight increase in casting capacity.

Additional branches and boons can now be grafted by your patron, without the risk of ontological meltdown.

Now he just needed to find another grove and commune with Ashmedai to get more boons. Preferably after he had killed some more monsters, so his infernal engine could power another boon.

With a smile on his face and a song in his heart, Oak walked into the gloom of the City of God with Geezer by his side. The familiar sight of lonely lanterns on houses and street corners, still hanging on by a thread in their doomed fight against the shadows, felt inspiring to him. The malice in the air seemed a touch lighter, like it could not quite get a hold of him anymore, and a fire of belief burned inside his belly.

We just might make it after all, he thought, gaze locked onto the massive ziggurat that ruled the center of the city. I guess we have to, if the entire continent of Pairi-Daeza is depending on it. Sleep well and sleep long, Yam-Nahar. We are not quite ready yet to face a dragon’s folly.

***

It had taken Oak and Geezer six days in total to reach the obelisk, but they had finally done it.

Oak stood on the edge of the square, looking past the obelisk at one of Empress Aoibheann’s summer palaces, where the tortured soul he was supposed to rescue was being held. If the buildings around him right now were opulent, and in his opinion they definitely were, the summer palace transcended the word opulent entirely.

It was shaped like a crescent moon. Seven tall, white and glistening towers rose from the crescent, starting from the points and rising ever higher as they approached the tallest tower in the middle of the structure. The palace had a large round garden which, together with the palace itself, formed the shape of a full moon.

There was just one problem. It was more accurate to say he was looking up at the summer palace. Ashmedai’s instructions had failed to mention the fact that because Ma'aseh Merkavah had twisted itself into a sphere when Yam-Nahar and Aoibheann summoned God’s dead flesh into creation, the summer palace was now up on the slope of the sphere.

By the fucking dead, what a task.

He drummed the pommel of his falchion with his fingers and tried not to think about falling to his death. The palace was not quite horizontal with the ground, but it did not look like an easy climb.

Thanks for small mercies, I guess. Things could always be worse.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

According to Ashmedai, the person he was here to rescue was held in the large ballroom at the center of the palace. Not a place Oak would have used as a prison, but he figured he shouldn’t complain, since it made his job easier than if the person was held in a dungeon somewhere. He stared at the streets and buildings which made up the wall of the sphere, curving upward until every wall became a floor or a ceiling.

I have climbed trees before. How hard can it really be?

“Nothing for it, right Geezer?” Oak asked. “If you can’t climb all the way up to the palace, I’m going to have to tie you to myself with rope and haul you up there.”

He could swear Geezer’s expression soured when the dog heard him. The hellhound shook himself and started making his way around the square.

“Hey, no need to get pissed at me, I will be doing you a favor,” Oak said and jogged after his dog. Geezer did not deign to notice him.

They did not have to walk for long before the cobblestone street under their feet sloped slightly upwards. Unlike the rest of the city, the buildings in the neighborhood showed signs of damage and there were piles of trash and rubble everywhere. Utterly broken carts and wagons filled the foggy streets. Oak assumed the reason for this was the curved slope he and Geezer would soon be climbing.

When Ma’aseh Merkavah had twisted upon itself and formed a sphere, everything not nailed down had rolled downhill. The results were not pretty. Wagons had crashed through the walls of houses, and in some cases, entire buildings had clearly collapsed when their foundations had twisted and warped.

As he walked, Oak took out his remaining rope and secured it to the outside of his rucksack, so it was easy to reach. Then he tightened every strap on the rucksack and checked all of his weapons. If one of them got loose from its sheath and dropped, he would not climb back down to get it.

Well, I might have to make an exception for the falchion if I drop it by accident. I haven’t even gotten to use the thing yet.

Ma'aseh Merkavah had always had a sense of unreality to it, like creation was not quite sure what to think of the City of God. This feeling of unreality heightened immensely when it felt like‌ the very ground itself wanted to escape from under his feet.

By now, every building had a funny tilt to them, and Oak was leaning forward so he could walk up the slope. The smooth rock of the cobbles felt slippery under his feet.

They stopped for a short break in a small alley where they could rest a bit and take a drink of water without worrying about sliding down the slope. Oak lay against the cool stonewall of the house behind him, looking up at the curve of the city.

It was freaky and unnatural how the buildings straight above him just stayed there, suspended in the air above him. At any second, whatever it was that was holding the city in its grip might cease and let go, letting all of those streets and buildings hanging there to come crashing down. He suppressed a shudder.

At least it would be over quickly, Oak thought and took a sip of water. A one-two punch of death and burial.

As he was about to stand up and start strapping the rucksack to his back, Oak noticed some type of white string criss-crossing the mouth of an alleyway maybe two hundred feet up the slope. There was something about it that felt out of place, and he stared at it for a bit, trying to work out what it was. His gut was telling him to stay far away from the string, but he could not understand why.

Suddenly, Oak realized what he was looking at. The white string covering the mouth of the alleyway was a giant spider web. A memory from the day prior surged forth and he could see in his mind's eye as the wolf-chimera ripped chunks of meat from a horse-sized, hairy spider. This time, Oak did not manage to suppress his shudder.

“Fuck me,” he said and started strapping the rucksack to his back. “Why does it have to be spiders? Why not giant rabbits? Or a nice giant mouse? But no, eight-legged nightmares it is.”

Geezer noticed his agitation and sat down next to him, so Oak could give the dog a scratch or two. He complied and started babying the hellhound. It usually made him feel better.

“After this is done, I want to return to the North and live on a mountain somewhere where the snow never melts,” Oak told Geezer, voice barely above a whisper. “No insects or any other creepy crawlies in sight. What a paradise.”

He tightened the last leather strap across his chest, left the alley and started heading upwards. The incline was so steep now that he was almost walking on all fours, like the hellhound next to him.

They passed the first spider web without issue. The problem was, there were plenty more of them around and they seemed to increase in frequency the farther they climbed, blocking doorways and connecting long ago burnt out streetlights to each other. Some of the webs had corpses hanging from them.

Centipedes were the most common prey caught by the webs, but Oak could swear he saw one web holding the corpse of a goat. He was on his toes, ears open for any sign of movement, but he heard nothing.

In no time at all, the slope of the streets was so steep, Oak had to search the cobblestones for handholds and drag himself upwards to make progress. Geezer began to have trouble, and they stopped once more at a convenient alley so Oak could attach the dog to his own waist with rope.

Standing straight on the wall of the house under his feet, Oak made a crude harness and, after a bit of persuading, he put it on Geezer. The dog was not happy at all and Geezer was even less happy, when they continued upwards and he was left dangling under Oak like a piece of luggage.

Keep calm and carry on. Just one hold at a time. Do not look down under any circumstances. There is no need to rush. There is also no need to be embarrassed if you piss yourself. It would be a completely natural reaction to this nonsense.

Fingers straining, Oak took hold of another cobblestone protruding from the street to haul himself and his cargo up another foot, when the stone broke off from the street. He pushed off the wall with his feet and jumped at a nearby streetlight, nearly falling to his death. Geezer swung around under him, frozen in fear as Oak held onto the pole for dear life, his face white as a sheet. His heart tried to beat itself out of his chest.

I’m not sure, but I think I might have peed a little. Right. Rule number one of climbing up magical, almost vertical streets: check your handholds properly.

The mists of Ma’aseh Merkavah crawled up the surrounding slope, and excited whispers filled the air. There were faces in the mist, watching him. Waiting for him to fall to his death.

It took some time before Oak’s hands stopped shaking, and he could continue.

The tension of climbing something that was essentially a cliff face at this point, and seeing signs of giant spiders everywhere, but not seeing a single actual spider, was so nerve racking that Oak was almost relieved when the Ears of Amdusias confirmed his worst fears.

A spider the size of a warhorse was stalking them, waiting for the perfect moment to sink its fangs into fresh meat.