Cricket

20

Into the Void

In the morning, Cricket found Oydd seated beneath the runed portal, which presented a pool of inky blackness that surged and pressed against the far side as if trying to invade the tower.

A constant buzz, like angry hornets, emanated from the blackness, interrupted by occasional wails and screams, reminiscent of the damned being dragged to hell.

"This is Sheol?" Cricket took a seat next to Oydd.

Despite his calm demeanor, the rudra swallowed hard when he heard the insect's voice, betraying his apprehension.

"It is," Oydd replied. "I don't know how it came to be called the Silence. The sound is almost maddening."

"Is it always this loud?"

Oydd shook his head. "Intermittently, but it is not rare. Deth, in Rudric, has many meanings. It refers to silence, stillness, or even the afterlife. Even Jeshu, who was raised on the surface was told Sheol was the still darkness after death."

"Well, if we're critiquing names, it isn't really still either. Looks like a pot about to boil over."

Unconsciously, Oydd tilted his head, imagining if the surface lay horizontally. "I suppose so. If I weren't holding it back, the blackness would pour through and fill the whole tower, I believe."

"You say that like it's weird. But darkness always eats up whatever it can if nothing is holding it back."

Oydd laughed. "Insightful, I suppose. I was testing how it reacted to the bloodstone, as well as silver."

"Didn't your bloodstone burn out?"

"Quite the opposite." Oydd reached into his pack and uncovered the now greenish egg. He lifted it effortlessly with his mind, toward the troubled portal, and the blackness hissed and withdrew, along with the insect-like buzz. For an instant, Cricket saw the motion of hundreds of shadowy beings fleeing back into the shrinking shadows—squealing as if in pain.

Cricket's eyes grew wide. "Is it always..."

"Not this dense," the rudra answered. "They have gathered because they sense my lifeforce."

"And why are we going in?" Cricket asked, horrified.

"Shisu is there. She has not left since Indech attacked. She is preparing to summon her true god—the all-devouring worm, Titaga."

"You say this with some certainty."

Oydd nodded. "I have... some of the elder rudra's memories, stored in Bale's mind. If anything, my resolve has grown, because I see what they are planning, and it is the annihilation of everything we have ever known."

"But... why?" Cricket asked.

Oydd shook his head. "There are gaps in his memories, but I'm not certain that the other rudra knew. Only that he trusted Shisu, or her Prophet implicitly. I have researched, myself, extensively, to fill in the gaps if you will. But I have only uncovered bits and pieces. And frankly it is difficult to separate fact from fiction."

"Well what do we know?"

"Very little," I have multiple ancient texts that describe Titaga as a being of three. Three heads, three eyes, three jaws that close like a trap. Multiple accounts describe an encroaching death within three days of witnessing his aspect, but that is clearly superstition, so... who knows about the rest."

"A worm with three heads wouldn't be very good at digging," Cricket mused.

"I suppose not. But other accounts describe him, or it, as having three distinct bodies, each with their own name, which makes little sense.

"I have multiple bodies with different names."

Oydd raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you do."

"Are they called Onetaga, Twotaga, and Threetaga?"

"Titaga refers to the primary entity, but also often to all three. But, since you ask, the other worms are named Juagir, and Ohm. Titaga is Rudric, the most ancient of languages we still have preserved, and means 'the first meal.' According to legend, Titaga became the first demon, by devouring another god, introducing death into the cosmos."

"That's pretty... oh, I'm torn between awesome and horrific. What do the other names mean?"

"Ohm is the first sound, though I'm not sure if it means the first sound was 'ohm,' or if the great worm created the first sound. Either way, again, likely superstition."

"And what does Jaguar mean?"

"Juagir," Oydd corrected, "has no evident or discernible meaning. I wasted three days trying to find some answer to your question, and then... I gave up."

"Should have had your apprentice do it."

"Ruka has better things to occupy her time."

"So do you. Wait, your assistant is Ruka?"

"Yes, why?"

Cricket shrugged. "You just never told me that. I guess I'm a little jealous."

"Oh, I forgot you liked her."

"Not, like, 'like' like. I'm jealous because she's one of the best shots, and now she's learning magic too."

"Well, you can't blame me for assuming otherwise. You've shown interest in practically every woman we've met."

"Uh... I don't think so..."

"You've described seven azaeri women as 'cute' in the last week."

"I have a type."

"And the arachane corpse."

"Rusalka is just the hottest spider I've seen. That's objective."

"You said you could see yourself in a committed relationship with her."

Cricket blushed and looked away. "Admittedly, my imagination is filling in some gaps in her personality."

"Lastly, by way of points and by no means incidents, you described the Oracle as 'strangely attractive'."

"I said relatively attractive. You know, for a... writhing nest of tentacles."

"I'm not interested in arguing, but I remember very clearly, you said 'strangely attractive'."

"Relatively strangely attractive."

"Well, regardless."

Cricket stared into the boiling shadows, scratching his chin. "You said you tested silver?"

"I did. And while the shadow is pervasive, it is not nearly as toxic as the lich's darkness. Silver will work, and for extended periods. Jesh... assisted me earlier. His magic is also effective."

"So we're bringing everything?"

"And nearly everyone," Oydd added. "A whole brigade this time. I believe this could be the final conflict—the climax of our endeavors."

"You basically said that about our last fight, but we didn't bring a brigade then," Cricket argued.

"Against a necromancer of that caliber? That would have been disastrous! We would have been fighting every soldier that fell..."

"Well, good," Cricket replied. "I mean, good that you're keen on taking everyone, because that's partly why I came to see you."

"Oh?"

"We... that is, all the other Crickets, couldn't really decide on who should get to come. They all really wanted to get out."

"And you want them all to come? I don't see why not."

"Awesome! You're the best. I was a tiny bit worried about returning with bad news."

"You said that was only part of the reason you came?"

"Uh, yes," Cricket stammered. "How's Scorpion doing?"

"Recovering." Oydd played with his remaining tentacles, coiling his finger around them. "But the procedure went well, if that's what you're asking. I could practically see the lich, before he turned, performing the same procedure on Shisu. It is... very hazy, but I knew what to do."

"I'm glad it was Scorpion."

"And why do you say that?"

"Well, it's fair, for one. You shouldn't get three parts."

"I intend to do whatever gives us the best chance for survival."

"I think you just wanted it for yourself," Cricket said bluntly. "Can't you... sense enough with that shiny new brain?"

Oydd grunted, partially in irritation, but it also felt like a veiled concession.

"And it will be cool if he can see his invisible sword!"

"Was that your reasoning," Oydd scoffed. "Because it would be cool?"

"Well, if you had the eye," Cricket replied, "we would miss out on Scorpion doing some amazing stunts."

Oydd opened his beak to speak, but Cricket talked over him.

"I definitely wanted to fight him, but that means it was a good strategy. If he's a challenge for me, then he's an asset to the team."

"You speak as if no one else can challenge you."

"Well, I... haven't lost a match in a long time. Except for Bax." Cricket suddenly looked discouraged.

"I..." Oydd started, "I mean, what did..."

"I think Bax might be my rival," Cricket said, cleaning his feelers. "You about ready?"

"Ready? For what?"

"It's... basically time to go."

"No it's not!"

"Um... you said first thing in the morning."

"Oh, my, is it morning already. I didn't sleep."

"That seems unwise. But... the troops are already in the mess hall. I woke Gal'li up two hours early to start food."

"Oh, god... I don't remember saying first thing in the morning."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Cricket shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Should I tell them—"

"No, no... we'll continue as planned. I've gone without sleep before. I can do it again." Oydd stood. "But I have some preparations to make. I'll be back here within the hour."

"I have a potion from Bax that is supposed to keep you awake. Let me know if you want some."

Oydd groaned. "I may take you up on that." He collected his things and started for the door.

"Not all of it," Cricket shouted after him.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

*****

Patches finished the tiny wool blanket and placed it on Pip. Despite her measurements, it was still several times too large for the lady bug, but it looked fine so long as he kept his head out.

She leaned over and kissed the blanket, then realized it might not have the desired effect, so she kissed him again directly on the shell.

"Thanks for saying sorry," Patches said. "I'm not mad at you."

Pip squirmed a little bit, dislodging his antenna from a loop in the wool.

"I know you want to come too, but it's too dark, and you'll get lost. Plus, you're not so good at flying anymore."

As if on cue, the remnants of the bug's severed wing buzzed briefly.

"But you can watch," Patches conceded. She made a slight groaning sound, and ran from her burrow, only to return a second later to stare quietly at the familiar. She rested her chin in the dirt as she watched him fidget, then groaned again and turned to leave.

The mouseling held her tiny knife in her teeth as she ran, to keep her one forepaw free. When she reached the lower lab, she pressed one eye close to the ground to look under the closed door. She watched for moving shadows and listened for the rudra's soft footsteps, but hearing nothing she continued on to the portal.

After descending four flights of stairs, then backtracking one floor to follow a faint burning smell, the mouseling came upon Bax, snoring in the hallway, with his back against a wall.

Patches nudged his knee with her nose and the gnome swatted an imaginary fly from his nose and resumed snoring.

Patches stared, quite still, for a full minute before nudging him again, this time with a bit of muscle.

The gnome sleepily opened his eyes and smiled. He patted her roughly on the head, so much that she recoiled before deciding to endure it.

"Did I miss it?"

"Miss what?" Patches whispered.

Suddenly, the gnome sniffed the air and moaned. "Aw, I burnt them again."

"What did you burn?"

"That's the third time!" the gnome continued, not registering her question. "They take twenty minutes, and I just can't stay awake that long!"

Patches nodded dumbly.

"I mean, obviously I can stay awake that long, but I didn't... three times now. Night cooking seems logical, you understand, but you're liable to burn down a few houses if you're not careful."

Bax yawned with an exaggerated sound. "Is it... I suppose I don't have time for a fourth batch. Oh, bother." The gnome rose to his full unimpressive height and dusted off his leggings. He then felt for his illusory purple hat, pretending his fingers couldn't pass straight through it.

"Well that's no good," Bax said, his eyes crossing as he tried to see the top of his head. "You don't have your friend."

It took patches a moment to realize that Bax was not talking about his hat. Her whiskers drooped.

"I was mean to him, so I don't want him to get hurt."

"Can I... make you a temporary Pip? I mean, if that's not indelicate to ask?"

Patches lifted the tip of her nose in thought. "You can do that?"

"It's roughly all I can do. Make... er... temporary things that is. Still! it can be surprisingly effective."

Patches scratched her chin with her stump. "I think I would like that."

"Oh, there's already one there!" The gnome stooped and pretended to grab something from behind her ear, revealing his palm with a flourish, and a tiny copy of Pip crawled along his rough calluses. However, the illusion was still bright red, rather than a burnt orange, and possessed both wings.

Patches squealed. "You fixed him!"

"Oh, I... sorry. Do you want—"

"No, he's perfect!" the mouseling said excitedly.

"Oh... well, my pleasure."

"Can you... I know he's not real."

"Can I fix the real Pip? I can make him look fixed."

"That's even better."

"Well, it's not better, but... you think it's good enough?"

"It's better because all that's wrong with him is how he looks since I killed him." Patches paused and frowned at the memory. "He'd like to look better. He really liked having a bright red shell, but he gets into too much trouble when he can fly."

"Ah, I understand," Bax replied.

"Can you do it from here?"

"Oh, why... I don't know. I can try. It... would be very difficult." Bax scratched his beard. "Consider it my top priority! I was going to try to keep everyone alive, but this seems more important."

Patches nodded in agreement.

The pretend Pip flew back behind the mouseling's ear.

"I might even be able to do both..." Bax thought.

"Where's your Witch Hitter?"

"Ah," Bax said with a tight-lipped frown. "I had to leave it behind when Oydd was making all those rules. Oh, nevermind, you weren't there. Consider yourself lucky. Oh, I like the bow."

Patches blushed and swished her tail gracefully. A tiny pink bow adorned the crooked tip.

"I'm pretty, because I'm a girl," Patches explained.

Bax nodded. "You might not want to hold knives in your teeth as you run. That's how I chipped both of my front teeth. One each on two separate occasions." The gnome flashed a smile, displaying unbelievably perfect, unchipped teeth.

Patches nodded. "Do you hold it in your tail?"

"I do," Bax replied. "It's much more efficient. I mean, if I had a tail."

The two sat around in silence for over a minute. When it grew awkward, the gnome began to chew at his nails, and Patches watched.

Meet at the portal in thirty minutes.

Bax paused biting his thumb, but spoke with the nail still wedged behind his teeth. "Did you hear that?"

Patches nodded.

"Well, I think that's plenty of time to burn another batch!"

*****

Oydd stood before the portal, counting the azaeri soldiers. Thirty-eight. Enough, perhaps, for four squads. Most were heavily armed, and each carried at least one or two items of silver, though many of the troops looked green and nervous. Their Crickets marched around the assembled ranks, adjusting straps and inspecting weapons, much to the chagrin of the veterans.

Oydd tapped his beak impatiently and turned to Cricket.

"I don't believe it is prudent to wait much longer."

"I think everyone else is ready. Just give the word."

Oydd nodded. He studied Scorpion. The light from Bale's eye glowed much softer than his arm—more of a lavender than violet. In a way, his grim visage was more terrifying than the ghasts behind him.

The trollblood, Gad, stood next to Oydd, looking oddly determined considering the state of his mind. He held onto Oydd's staff, while the rudra paced.

At a signal, the trollblood struck the staff three times against the stone, and the room fell mostly quiet.

Oydd climbed the stairs before the portal and addressed the room, speaking to the captains first, though he appeared a bit flustered.

"Form everyone into four squads. Each squad needs at least two archers, and enough silver arrows for both. The pieces of bloodstone are to be held by captains, and captains are to position opposite the squad's magic-users."

Oydd looked around the room again, and spoke to Jeshu. "You have three healers?"

"They are not mine. Two clerics among the azaeri, and one trained by me."

"But three other healers?"

Jeshu nodded.

Oydd spoke to the room again. "Each squad will have one magic-user. That is counting Ruka, my apprentice, or one of the healers. But not Jeshu or myself. We will form a separate, smaller command squad, and assist as needed. Stay close to your captains or your healers, or you will be consumed by the darkness. Ruka has some limited experience controlling dark magic." He turned to his apprentice. "But I will give you the extra quiver of arrows."

Oydd continued to pace. "The darkness is full of wraiths—broken spirits that feed on flesh. Though they may grow hungry, they can never die, so assume they are ravenous."

Three Crickets, including the original, raised their hands.

"Yes," Oydd sighed in frustration.

Cricket put his hand down. "Okay, I'm glad I'm not the only one who wanted to ask, but what do you mean by 'broken'?"

"Not whole. They will behave mindlessly, though they may appear intelligent. And they are a considerable threat," he raised his voice to be heard by the back of the room. "Though they are little but solidified shadows, their claws could shred you in an instant. I realize that may be hard to conceive."

"No, that's like my shadows," Cricket said flatly.

Oydd hesitated only momentarily. "Can everyone imagine being shredded by Cricket's shadows?"

Around the room, nearly every wide-eyed azaeri nodded.

"Well, fine. It's like that."

The gnome, rather disruptively, stumbled into the room huffing, simultaneously patting down the smoking neck of his vest with one hand while the other held a pair of pointy-toed, suede shoes. Patches followed more quietly in his wake.

Bax gave an exaggerated sigh, then macrhed in front of the rudra and saluted. "Reporting for duty. Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything important?"

"Everything I say is important," the rudra replied dryly.

"I brought the extra pair of shoes, like you said."

"I said nothing of the sort. Why does everyone keep telling me I've said things I didn't say? Why would I fall for that?"

"Oh, I..." Bax faltered, looking to Cricket for support.

"Um," the insect scratched his neck nervously. "It's not... I mean, our intentions are good."

"So you know what I'm talking about," the rudra snapped.

"Well, yes, but... hear me out. You talk a lot, and we can't always pay attention that long."

Bax nodded, and contributed, "I can pay attention for a really long time, but I don't always remember everything later."

"Yes," Cricket agreed. "He can pay attention but has a bad memory, and I have a good memory, but—"

"I get the point."

"So," Cricket continued. "Sometimes we have to guess what you would say, to try to remember what you did say. Usually, we're pretty spot on. Guessing what you would say has actually gotten us out of a lot of trouble." By this point, the insect stood very close as if to keep the conversation quiet, but his whispers could clearly be heard around the room.

"It couldn't possibly be that big of an issue," Oydd snapped.

Bax and Cricket both laughed at once. Cricket patted the rudra on the back, condescendingly. "How about when we were with the lich? You made up so many rules. No one could keep track." Cricket pointed at one of his shadows, and the shadow nodded whole-heartedly.

"He wasn't even there! What rules are you talking about?"

"Instructions. After we killed the lich. Just... so many instructions, we lost track."

"I didn't lose track," Bax said. "Oh wait... no, that does describe both of us, I think."

"Don't touch this, and don't touch that," Cricket continued. "Leave green things behind but keep red things."

"I had to leave a red thing behind," Bax interjected.

"Keep red things that turned green," Cricket amended. "And don't keep anything that touched the lich!"

"That, I did say."

"See, we can guess some of it," Cricket continued. "But you weren't consistent, because your rock thing touched the lich, and Jeshu's hammer touched the lich."

"I covered that in detail."

"Exactly, so you admit it."

"I..." Oydd stopped himself and sighed deeply.

"In fairness, Bax and I regularly talk things over in depth. You know... share notes, so we won't bother you too much. We both decided you probably said to bring an extra pair of shoes, since we don't really know what Sheol is like. But I don't wear shoes at all."

"Enough," Oydd ordered.

Cricket froze with his mouth still open, clearly eager to finish his explanation.

"What should I do with the extra shoes?" Bax asked.

"I do not care."

Ja'hek, the azaeri commander, squawked irritably, and Oydd returned his attention to the room as if he had not been interrupted.

"Based on knowledge I have received from the lich, we believe Shisu has nearly finished her preparations to summon Titaga to this realm. An elder god of chaos. From my understanding, the azaeri call him the Devourer of Worlds and the Father of Worms."

Excitedly, Cricket added, "They literally think he's the father of all worms. Like, he leaves worms behind in the soil of any planet he's touched to continue devouring that world."

Oydd ignored him. "Ancient azaeri scripture also describes him as the rot in the center of the universe, or a black mass of such intense gravity that light cannot escape it."

"Light isn't affected by gravity," Cricket said with authority. "It's a type of mana."

"Both are affected by gravity!" Oydd roared, and the azaeri commander squawked again, more loudly than before.

"Any questions from captains?" Oydd asked.

Scorpion spoke up. "Have we learned anything more about Shisu?"

"Not really, but I know where she is, and I sense some trepidation on her part in confronting us. Her abilities are based on the ability to manipulate time, which is formidable, but must be very taxing. I find it unlikely she could stand against all of us, though the risk is not negligible."

"That's not motivating," Cricket critiqued.

"It's honest. I think everyone would rather have an accurate depiction than—"

"We got this!" Cricket cried, lifting a sword. "Any squad alone could take her down!"

At this, a single azaeri made a rousing caw, and then a few other trickling caws followed, but it was difficult to tell if it were in support or more reflexive in nature. All in all, the whole spectacle was more depressing than morale-boosting.

"Without further ado…" Oydd raised the faded bloodstone egg with his mind and sent it crashing through the portal into the waves of darkness. A skittering, hissing mass of smoking wraiths withdrew deeper into the shadows, squealing in pain, and Oydd took the first step into the void.