The Curse of the Winged Scorpion
Bloop!

Fantelwas hustled swiftly through the courtyard; she had time to note the largetriple tiered fountain, the water splashing down out of a spout shaped like awinged snake and a line of marble benches flanking the portico arched walkwayson either side of the courtyard before she was pulled through a side door intothe interior of the mansion. She found herself in a narrow, apple greencorridor. Gold arabesques trailed from the corners of the ceiling overhead andher feet slapped silently over cool terracotta tiles. There were no windows andthe corridor held a close, almost musty heat. A sweet, yet smoky aroma clung tothe air, thick and heady. Fantel’s nose twitched; Dreamsmoke, addictive inlarge doses and foul even in small ones. She detested the stuff. Tomah startedto pull her along the corridor at a brisk trot. They made a right turn, andstarted down another green walled passageway all but identical to the last,save this one contained an alcove in the right wall where a bronze idol of thesix armed, serpent headed goddess Lyst sat amid offerings of burning incenseand camellia petals.

Apeculiar mechanised contraption floated above the alcove and appeared tobe...dusting the wall. Fantel craned her neck to stare at the machine as Tomahpulled her past. Humans were forever creating these odd things; automatons theycalled them. They were half-alive machines, constructs of metal and magic,given the semblance of animation through technomancy. This particular automatonwas about the size and shape of a melon and floated several feet off the groundupon a field of faintly glowing Phantasma vapours, so that it appeared to bebobbing up and down on a ghostly rainbow sea. It was made out of dull steel,patched with dark enamelled panels. A miniature feather duster extended from ahatch in the automaton’s rounded surface, held in a pincer like appendage. Asingle violet beam of light shone from a horizontal slit in the metal front ofthe construct. Fantel was so busy staring at the automaton – which Tomah paidno mind to whatsoever -that she almost walked into the wall when he drew her toa stop in front of a nondescript door.

HereTomah placed his palm against a lockpad set into the wall beside the door.Fantel watched as the glowing sensor pad reacted to his Anima signature,shifting through a rainbow spectrum of colours from deep, bruised indigo tocerulean and finally to an almost shocking yellow. Fantel was not surprisedthat Tomah let her see him use this particular lock; quite simply it made nodifference one way or the other. There was no keystone she could steal thatwould open this door for her. The door reacted to authorised Anima signatures;anyone who tried to unlock the door without authorisation would undoubtedlyreceive a nasty shock from the sensor. Yet another reason to distrust Technomancy;no mere door should be able to read the truth of a living soul. It wasunnatural, and Fantel couldn’t help but think it was also somewhat insulting.She did not like the thought of a doormeasuring the quality of her soul and replaceing her wanting.

Thedoor opened and Tomah shoved her up another narrow, steep flight of ill-litstairs. The door to the corridor slammed shut behind them, but not beforeFantel caught a glimpse of the strange automaton hovering just in front of it.The machine’s violet eye beam seemed to look straight at her. The beam flashedonce, almost a wink, and then the door fell closed.

Onceat the top of the stairs Tomah opened another door and pushed her through intoa room thick with the stench of dreamsmoke. More Dha-hali filled the room,perhaps eight in total. The man from the skybarge cargo hold, the one who hadalmost beat a human woman to death for praying in his presence, reclined upon agold and cream upholstered chaise, a dreamsmoke pipe held between lax fingers anda kohl-eyed, bronzed skinned woman coiled in his lap. The woman’s lower facewas covered by a blue gauze veil that hooked over her nose and around her ears.Her silky black hair was braided in the same style as the Dha-hali men. Thefox-fire light and shadow from the many Phantasma lamps and wall sconcesscattered around the room reflected off the many gold bangles looped around herwrists. A trio of similarly veiled and gold bedecked women knelt on the flooraround the chaise and stared up at Fantel with heavy, drugged eyes. There was alarge brazier of dreamsmoke set upon a tripod on the other side of the chaise;several ceramic pipes rested in the bowl and the vaguely nauseating stench ofburnt banana made the air in the room greasy. Beyond the red-braided man–Fantel assumed he must be the Dagoman – stood several open archways leading toan interior balcony. Beyond the balcony Fantel could see a huge phantasmachandlier danging from the ceiling and she could hear, from the room below thebalcony, the sound of voices and the whining trill of music.

“AhTomah, you bring our treasure at last,” The Dagoman spoke expansively, hisbroad features lax with too much dreamsmoke. Negligently he shoved the womanoff his lap and threw his pipe aside. The spilled ash from the pipe landed onthe bare thigh of one of the other concubines, burning her. The Dagoman did noteven notice. Sitting forward he gestured with his large hands. “Bring her here.I want a better look.”

RoughlyTomah shoved Fantel in the small of her back. She stumbled forward into theroom. Her bare feet ended up sinking into the thick fur pelt stretched out onthe floor. The twisting kaleidoscope of shifting colours from the Phantasmalamps hurt her eyes and the pungent fog of dreamsmoke clouded her mind, dullinghe senses. The Dagoman’s hot, fleshy hands caught hold of her wrist and sheblinked down into his avaricious eyes. Full flips curved up into a slow, hungrysmile. “Exquisite.”

“MyDagoman,” Tomah spoke up, his tone firm despite the submissive stance he took,head down, one fist clenched to his chest. “I caught one of the Veridree partywandering the woods as I was bringing the Chimera to you. Somehow he slippedpast the guards without notice.” He looked up then boldly meeting the Dagoman’sgaze. “Dagoman this insult to your hospitality cannot be borne. The boy I sawwore a technomancer’s glove – what if...”

“EnoughTomah,” The Dagoman waved one hand, his other hand sliding up over Fantel’sforearm toward her elbow. The clammy heat of his palm made her skin twitchunpleasantly; if it was not for the shackles binding her wrists together shewould have already had a hand wrapped around his throat. “You worry too much;none of my guests would dare offer insult to me here. To do so would besuicide. This is our stronghold; we are many and they are few.”

TheDagoman sat even further forward on the chaise until he could plant his feet onthe floor (scattering the rest of his concubines in the process). He stood. Hehad eyes only for Fantel as he ran light fingers over the complicatedembroidery covering her throat and upper chest. “Devine,” he breathed in a hotrush into the shell of her ear. “You are beautiful Chimera.”

“Dagomanyour guests should not beunderestimated.” Tomah continued, a note of frustration colouring hisobsequiousness, “What if one of your rivals chooses to strike at you here,despite the risk? The boy could be an assassin; he claimed to be Veridree yetspoke like an Adran. What if he has been sent by Banaborra? They refused yourinvitation to this auction, but could easily have sent an agent in disguise.”

“EnoughI said,” Moving with surprising speed the Dagoman pushed Fantel aside (shestaggered and almost fell to the floor) and strode over to Tomah. He struck himhard across the face and the man fell to his knees. “How dare you question yourDagoman? Do you forget your place Tomah? I rule here. And I tell you that nonewould dare strike out at me.” He kicked the fallen Tomah, using the samevicious, hook-footed technique he had used on the defenceless woman in thecargo hold. “You speak of plots like a coward, yet I tell you, look to thoseyou so fear.” Grabbing Tomah by his hair the Dagoman hauled him to his feet andhalf threw him across the room out onto the balcony. “Look down there – what doyou see?”

“Yourguests, my Dagoman,” Tomah answered, his nose bleeding freely, brilliantcrimson splotches spattering like liquid starbursts over the smooth tilefloor.

“Yes,”The Dagoman hissed a peculiarly sibilant sound for such a big, rough man.“Those men and women down there – my rivals as you call them – Raiders all, yetthey come here as my guests -and do you know why?” He shook Tomah, thickknuckled hands fisted in the intricate mesh of chainmail covering Tomah’schest. “Because I am Dagoman of the great Dha-hali and they know -they know – my power. You speak ofVeridree -of Banaborra -well I piss on them!” Spittle flew from the Dagoman’slips, splattering across Tomah’s bloody face. “I piss on Nylous and his army ofAdran turncoats – let him send spies. What care I?” The Dagoman laughed a wild,brash sound that grated on the ears. “I fear them not. I fear no one! Aftertoday all the raiders in Aldlis will know that I -Einar -rule the skies.”

“Mishmanpraise the Dha-hali,” Barked the rest of the guards in the room. They hadwatched the altercation between their Dagoman and Tomah with wary eyes but madeno move to intervene. Now they performed the same chest slapping salute Fantelhad seen earlier with every appearance of total fanaticism. Fantel stared atthe Dagoman -Einar – watching him pant. His large hands clenched into fists ashe stared at his subordinate with murder in his eyes. She realised that the manwas quite mad.

Shealso knew that this was no ordinary slave auction. This was a raider conclave. Raiders were a menaceto all Aldlis, pirates of the skies, they terrorised trading caravans like theone Tamaki had travelled with, as well as legitimate sky craft. They stolegoods and even people to sell on the thriving black market and dabbled inillegal magics. Every nation in Aldlis had its own particular brand of Raider.The Bhuvam islands were almost completely overrun by the Dha-hali, who wrappedtheir predations up in ancient myth and legend to hide the truth of theircrimes. The might of the Adran legions, an army that had conquered most of theeastern hemisphere, could not crush the resistance at the heart of the KitvikBadlands. Banaborra continued to thumb its nose at the Empire. Fantel had evenheard rumour that Adra’s great enemy, Dushkuland, was said to encourage its ownbreed of raiders to prey on Adran sky vessels to disrupt supply routes. Aleaden ball of dread settled in her stomach. It was one thing to be sold to aslave auction but quite another to be sold by one set of Raiders to another.She had told Tamaki that she must hope that her future master would bemerciful, but Raiders had no mercy.

“Chimera,”Einar released Tomah and lurched toward her, once again oblivious of theconcubine under foot. If the woman had not moved out of the way just in timeFantel had no doubt Einar would have stood on her without a single thought. Thelives of others clearly had no value to Einar beyond his own pleasures. Fantelfelt the weight of the shackles around her wrists and hoped fervently to killthis revolting man. Her fingers tingled and she had to will herself tocalmness; she could not afford to unsheathe her claws unless she had chance touse them. She refused to give ground as the Dagoman stood before her, closeenough that his hot breath scorched her skin. Desire caused the ripplingtattoos bisecting his face to throb deep mauve, like fault lines scoringgrooves of cruelty and sickness into his flesh.

“Doyou understand why I brought you here, Chimera?” He asked reaching out tostroke her cheek with his knuckles -and leaving a smear of Tomah’s blood like abrand over her skin. Fantel had too much pride to give any reaction. She staredback impassive and mute, and silently imagined how satisfying it would be todig her claws into the soft, pliant skin of his neck. His blood would burn hotand bright as it spouted from the hole she would gouge in his throat. “Your beauty calls to me; you are no Chimera– you are a siren of legend. Your silence beckons to me, a clarion call louderthan any scream.” Fantel gritted her teeth, her spine rigid and shoulderstensing as the Dagoman trailed his bloody knuckles down her throat to the highneck of the silk shift she wore and continued downward, his eyes making clearhis intent. Her restraint broke before his large hand could palm her breast;faster than any human could move she brought up her bound wrists and knockedhis hand away.

“Donot touch me human.”

Einarsucked in a sharp breath, echoed by the others in the room. One of the Dha-haliguards reached for the curved blade at his hip, eyes narrowed on Fantel, butEinar waved him off. “Such pride; such fury,” he whispered. “The stories of theChimeri must be true; you are wild creatures, untamed and savage.” His eyesglowed with disturbing fervour. “You are too fine a creature to be sold likecattle; submit to me Chimera and I will make you mine.”

“Dagoman,”Tomah protested. He was still on his hands and knees where he had fallen, yetnow he looked up, appalled. “I beg you, reconsider. You will offer grave insultif you keep the Chimera. Aluhahn Bashi has already bid on her; once we haveBashi’s Phantasma mines our dominance of the sky will be absolute – not eventhe Suluman will oppose us. Bhuvam will be ours for the taking.”

Einarturned, face twisting in unrestrained anger. His lips curled into a snarl,parting to speak. Whatever he planned to say was lost however when a hole,roughly the size of a human head, was blown out of the door behind Fantel.Smouldering wood splinters sprayed through the air. The concubines screamed. Abeam of laser bright light blazed through the hole. Fantel dropped to theground.

“Bloop.”

Theautomaton she had seen downstairs buzzed through the hole in the door, haloedin a corona of indigo energy. It bobbed up and down in mid-air, its eyebeamraking over everyone in the room. “Bl-bloop,” a hatch opened atop theautomaton. Tiny firefly sized projectiles shot in every direction.

Chaoserupted; the projectiles, self-propelled by some alchemy of science and magic,zinged around the room, smashing into wall sconces and lamps and ricochetingoff the walls. The screams of the concubines tore through the air along withthe hiss of escaping phantasma vapour from the shattered light fixtures. TheDha-hali guards dropped to the ground to avoid being riddled full of holes asthe fast moving projectiles ripped through everything in their path, seekingout any and all sources of phantasma. Soon the room was filled with seepingphantasma. The vapour, a bright shimmering red-gold mist hanging low to thefloor, began to spread, moving like a sluggish flood, congealing in puddlesthat rippled like liquid flame. Fantel’s eyes widened in fear and shecrab-crawled away from the spreading vapour.

Phantasmawas poison to Chimera. Phantasma was power derived from death. In its rawestform phantasma ore – the root of all human ingenuity – was the fossilisedremnant of untold millions of dead creatures, condensed deep in the heart ofAldlis. Anima and phantasma were opposite but equal forces governing the cycleof life on Aldlisr. Yet phantasma was anathema to the Chimeri. Fantel had agreater tolerance than most Chimeri but just being around too much phantasmapowered machinery could make her ill – and phantasma lamps invariably gave herheadaches. She watched in dawning horror as the phantom mist gathered cohesion,the flame like colours forming strange impressions, like ghostly reflectionsrippling on the surface of a sulphurous lake. Shades; Pulse save her the mistwas forming Shades. Half-formed faces started bubbled up from the surface ofthe mist -the vestigial memory of the dead rising up, hungry and clawing forthe life all around them. Fantel watched gaseous bodies form out of the mist,flickering like sickly flames in shades of brilliant scarlet, pale gold, andfiery orange. The mist writhed and twisted, sometimes forming almost perfectspectral forms, the swirling vapour moulding into the illusion of gaping mouthsand empty eye sockets, lolling heads and clawing hands, before collapsing intoshapeless puddles that flashed with thousands of faces; human, chimeri, djinn, goblin,ogdegre – the imprisoned echo of untold lives all trapped within the advancingmist.

Asquickly as it had begun the automaton’s assault ended. The cloud of glowingprojectiles returned in a swarm to the automaton, flowing back inside thehatch, which closed with a snap. “Bloop.” With one last sweep from its violeteye beam the automaton buzzed through the air, swept under the arches and overthe top of the balcony, dropping down out of sight before any of the room’sstunned occupants could do more than cautiously lift their heads from theground. The silence left in the wake of the fierce attack was deafening.

Awounded Dha-hali sat slumped against the wall across from Fantel. He clutchedone shoulder, salty blood seeping thickly over his fingers; he’d been hit byone of the glowing projectiles, the thing- whatever it was – had punchedthrough his shoulder and out the other side. His face was slick with sweat andtight with pain. The phantom mist coiled at his feet, slowly rolling up hislegs. Ghostly arms burst forth from the mist dragging the man into the writhingmass of vapour so fast he did not even have time to scream. The mist swallowedhim whole, enveloping him. His eyes went wide, mouth opening on an agonisedscream. He writhed on the floor, beating at the mist with his one good arm. Theman convulsed, head cracking against the floor again and again, eyes rolling.Froth started to form at the edges of his mouth, choking off his screams untilhe could only gargle, insensate -maddened by the cloud of death that nowdevoured his mind. The other humans in the room started screaming and spittingcurses and exhortations to their gods as the mist spread into every corner.Fantel knew she had but moments to act before she was overwhelmed. Gatheringher feet underneath her she ran toward the back of the room. The mist rose upbehind her, blocking off the route to the shattered door. Fantel leapt off thebalcony, casting herself into the void of empty air.