Tallah [Book 3 Complete]

Anna was having the time of her afterlife. It was hard not to enjoy herself these days, even after the whole business in the boy's… head? Soul? She was still confused by that whole adventure, but Christina understood all that had happened and that was enough.

Now Tallah was in a mood, the healer was suicidal, and the boy… well, the less said the better. But too much was happening that tickled Anna's particular interests for her to spare much feeling for the others.

As a bonus, she was getting along with Bianca like a house on bloody fire, and even Christina was coming around to their alliance, bringing with her approval a whole host of delicious synergies for them to test and master.

Violent death by immolation did take one to interesting places, to deal with exotic afflictions and experience fascinating paradigm shifts.

Like now, for example. She had formed this small construct of a mind with absolutely no preparation. And she'd equipped the blood doll with everything it needed: enough illum reserve to create a probe, enough brain to function independently for short bursts, and a sympathetic link for Anna to transfer over her attention at any time. Of course, it was a far cry from what the gods had demonstrated with their victims, but it was a workable copy nonetheless.

Christina provided the anchor and the transmission. Anna expected the blood doll to burst apart the moment she took control. If Tallah had one quality worthy of all admiration, it was her unwavering disregard for the risk of failure. Do or die in everything, never dwelling for long on failed plans or botched executions.

But once the link had been established, Anna had simply slid into the doll's little head and took direct control. With no blood connection to Tallah.

It offered a confusing and disorientating experience at first, as right it should, but it worked. The main downside—impossible to solve in the heat of events—was how the effect required a substantial source of power. Christina could provide it, but the effort made her useless for other work. Tallah would have to handle the battle on her own.

Eh, she was capable enough and sufficiently angry.

However, the boy and the lover would do well to find the priest within the bell. Any more and Anna would have to abort her side of the mission.

While the road back into the Cauldron was blocked by rocks, the way out was a mess of narrow ravines and shelves that overlooked the main pass at the bottom. It was a narrow road, likely designed that way for difficult access to and from the daemon-infested lands. Anna and the two men had been placed on a high shelf, neatly exposed to the wind that whistled among the rocks. Archers would've been posted at that height, but no sign of any defenders remained.

For the time being, as Vergil slunk among the rocks and wistfully gazed down into the melee, Anna busied herself with studying the clod. After all, the boy had just become the most valuable member of their group bar none, at least to her eyes: a true god-touched and god-changed subject, complete with a built-in nullification illum core that functioned, far as she could ascertain, as a miniature illum hearth. He was drawing enough power in that she could even siphon some off into the doll.

As she clung to his shoulder in the diminutive, illum-efficient form, she poked a tendril of blood into a vein right behind his ear, to better study the changes he underwent. And there a great many of them.

"Marvellous," she whispered.

"I wouldn't call it that," Vergil answered and surprised her. His hearing, like most of his physical attributes, seemed to have been augmented significantly.

Beneath, in the gorge, a whole column of slack-jawed, brainless humanity shuffled through the pass. Anna had to wrench her attention onto the sight and fully appreciate their situation. No wonder everyone was so on edge. There must've been hundreds of the buggers down there, the line extending into the distance, out of sight. There was no coordination to the effort, no synchronicity, just movement.

Like vermin.

This was not the work of any of her ilk. She'd removed brain stems before, animated the corpses and kept them shuffling along, but it offered very little of interest once the amusement died away. You could only make a corpse dance so much before the novelty of the attempt withered away. Without ever figuring out true reanimation, manipulating the dead was a pointless endeavour.

"I have limited time," she said as she grabbed hold of a lock of the boy's hair. Vergil climbed nimbly over some of the rocks lining the path, careful not to dislodge any and draw attention. "Don't dally and don't pick fights. Tallah wants the priest."

Vergil scoffed at her and she resisted the impulse of plucking at one of his nerves. As superhuman as his strength was now, much of his insides retained their shape and function. Pain was easy to administer from the inside-out, dwarf resident or not.

"I don't even know what a priest would look like. Why are you convinced it's important?" he asked.

Tallah's lover answered before Anna did, "The hymn… it's sung by Ort's clergy. Everyone in the empire knows it by heart. How don't you?"

Vergil stiffened at that, but Anna intervened. "That's none of your business, soldier. Tallah wants the priest brought to her. Deal with it quickly." She added quietly, only for the boy's ear, "It's too much coincidence to be assailed by one of Ort's chosen after we've received orders to deal with his puppet. Whatever reason the priest may have to be here, with this filth, it can't spell much good for us. Understand?"

"Got it," the boy said and quickened his steps, scrabbling nimbly up and down rocks that the soldier struggled with.

She genuinely liked Vergil, especially now that Tallah had given her free reign to explore his oddities. While the runework carved into him was beyond her knowledge, the physical changes were an entire thing altogether. It came as a pang of surprise that she felt some measure of concern for him, especially as his hormones seemed to be boiling in his veins. Not all of them were to do with his transformation.

For all he showed outward, he was scared. He could like all he wanted to himself and to Tallah, but the blood couldn't lie.

His new strength was just the beginning. Already she could see cellular growth that would result in a thicker hide for the boy, and calcium production that was to settle in his bones. If she were to guess, there was some aspect of vanadal physiology being transplanted into him. How exactly, she had no idea, but it was definitely happening. Exploring the route of those changes would take her days, and it was making it hard to keep her focus on the moment.

A sudden shift of direction. Her grip slipped off Vergil's blood-slick hair. A roar filled the air, of wind rushing past her ears and something else coming at them. Then the feeling of falling and the hard impact on the rocky ground.

Feet trampled around her and kicked up dust into the air. Something screamed above.

A boot nearly squashed her flat and what an undignified end that would've been to this endeavour. Not that most of their plans had gone any better in recent memory, but being squashed to paste would've ranked quite high in their common list of failures.

Anna ran, already changing her shape to better her odds of survival. A lower build, four-legged, less human, more rabbit. More spring in her step. As Vergil engaged whatever had attacked them, Anna ran for the safety the scout master represented.

Caragill—it took some effort to remember his name—did the sensible thing and kept out of Vergil's way as the boy fought. One of the empty-headed creatures had wandered up the path and was being handily dismantled by axe and sword. It kept coming back together.

"You can't kill it, boy," he was calling. "Cast it down. We should run."

Anna leapt up the few rocks that lined their narrow path, took a running start, and leapt to land right atop the scout's shoulder. Or she would've. Caragill snatched her out of the air with a grip like a vice and, for a heartbeat, she feared he'd squash her.

"A bit of a heads up would've been nice," the man said as his eyes focused on her. "Almost did something stupid."

"Unhand me, cretin," she squealed. "Help the boy."

"He doesn't need it." Caragill set Anna on his shoulder and turned away from Vergil's fight.

The boy had picked up the corpulent mass of muscle and bones in a great bear hug, then chucked it straight down the steep incline. It fell silently, whatever sound it may have made lost in the din of whatever else was happening down in the pass. Tallah was applying fire with a kind of giddy enthusiasm that Anna could only describe as a volcano blowing its top.

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"Anna," Vergil called after them.

Caragill stopped and turned, and Vergil joined them a moment later. He held out a bug in his hand, fist clenched around the creature's wings. It was rust-red, six-legged, and with a couple of long antennae that whipped at the air frantically. Two mandibles formed a wicked-looking pincer on the thing's head, looking sharp enough to crack through bone.

Or skull.

"This came out of that thing. Tried to go up my arm," Vergil said. He wasn't even winded. "Tried to bite me but I snatched before it got its jaws on my arm."

"Fascinating." Anna transferred from Caragill's shoulder to Vergil's wrist, approaching the squirming creature with as much caution as the moment warranted. Yes, she'd seen the things before, when the boy had brainlessly leapt into the fray. The bugs erupted from the skulls of the downed, always skittering forward, chasing after soldiers or civilians.

This one had the particular stench of spinal fluid about it, and was coated in a still-wet sheen of brain matter. It didn't take much imagination to figure where it had been situated on the body.

Much as she wanted to study the thing, she had a different mission for now, one she meant to accomplish. Her doll's illum store was running thin so time remained of the essence.

"Kill it. If you see another, smash it," she demanded. "Don't let it bite you. Goes for both of you."

Vergil crushed the thing in his fist, as easily as a particularly cruel child would've done to a roach. It let out an unnatural squeal of pain as puss-yellow ichor burst from its crushed remains. The boy threw the corpse away.

"There's more coming up the cliff," he said as he shook the sticky fluid off his hand.

"We're going this way." Caragill pointed to a narrow ledge that oversaw the ravine and travelled nearly parallel with it. "Bowman's ridge. This should have some caches of resources scattered about. Was just about to head to retrieve them when this insanity happened."

This time Anna remained firmly planted on Vergil's shoulder, re-sleeved in a human-like shape, both fists holding on to his hair. If he minded the treatment, he didn't show it.

Christina prodded her through the connection to Tallah's bindings.

'Update,' the Metal Mind demanded. 'You're drawing a lot of my strength.'

'Progressing. We haven't found the priest yet. Song's much louder up here.'

'Keep going. Tallah's holding the tide back. They're mindless but we're expecting some surprise from them. Ever seen these?'

'No.' Anna passed the image of the beetle through the connection. 'May have found the culprits. Kill any of these you see.'

Christina let out a shudder of revulsion, sharing it in full with Anna's perceptions. 'I'll let Tallah know. Hurry.'

'I'll ask them to dive into danger faster, yes.'

But Christina's attention had already turned to other matters, so Anna was left scowling at the sky. They still had several good bells of daylight. Once night overcame them, the situation may grow far more dire if these creatures found a way of sneaking up on them.

Anna wasn't convinced of their enemy's fragility. Vergil was strong, yes, and he had cut through the monsters with ease, but Anna would've easily kept such creatures going. If another god had descended on them—and really, three gods interested in their group seemed absurd—she very much doubted the effect would've been of such low quality. Something else was afoot.

A shadow darkened the sky and the music shifted. Vergil and Caragill drew back into the shadow of an overhanging rock, peering out.

"Can't see from here," Caragill said. He crouched and was almost out of cover when Anna hissed at him.

"Wait," she said.

Making an eye stalk was barely any effort for someone of her capacity. With the reduced biomass of the doll it was just a bit harder. She sent her vision around the curve of the rock to stare at the sky.

First she saw nothing. Then she angled her sight and changed her pupil for a wider angle. And something did outline itself against the leaden sky. It had wings flapping. To a single eye it looked like a worm outlined against the grey, so Anna split its sight to gain better perception.

And it was, indeed, a winged worm floating above them all. The music was emanating from it, loud as a thunder now, droning on and on and on. If it was in some sort of rush, it didn't show it, merely lazily floating on the air currents.

"Ort's set on earning the title Tallah keeps giving him," Anna said as she retracted her sight. "If that thing up there serves him, it's a flying maggot. Never seen its kind."

Caragill looked horrified for a moment, then turned and spat to the side.

"If you've an issue with the truth of your god, you might not want to warm Tallah's bed for long," Anna said with more than a little cruelty. "She's what you might call a blasphemer."

"I know," the scout master answered. "Been a soldier for a long time. Some stuff's ingrained. The empress's punishments can get… creative when speaking ill of the gods."

"Unfortunate." Anna sat on the boy's shoulder and thought for a moment. "How far can you throw?" she asked, looking up at him.

Vergil shrugged apologetically. "I haven't a fucking idea," he said. "Far."

"How well can you throw?"

"Terribly."

Well, that scrapped the idea of being thrown up to the creature. While she could continue existing for a short time away from Vergil, she did need a source of illum to extend that duration. For the time being, the boy was the only one she could rely on for that. Whatever that thing up there could do, she doubted it would've been a good idea to use as a font of power.

"I'm a good shot," Caragill said. He wore a bow slung across his torso, but not yet stringed. "With an arrow at least."

Anna would not let herself, even in blood doll form, be tied to an arrow and shot into who knew where. Instead, she set about working the limited illum store she had. A bit of Tallah's blood that she could spare, some alteration, and her very special brew of nastiness. If she couldn't get up to the creature, it would bring it down to her.

"String your bow," she demanded. "And Vergil, be ready to act if that thing comes down here. I need you to hit it and cut it." She grinned madly at the two men looking to her. "I hope you're both comfortable with this plan, because what I'm about to do would carry a very nasty execution if we're ever found by your empress."

Caragill rubbed at the scars on his neck then did as she demanded. He took out the curved bow—nothing grand, just a huntsman's weapon—and began stringing it. He had at most three arrows left in his quiver, but if he was as good a shot as he claimed to be, one would be enough.

Anna continued working. She had no idea what manner of creature that thing was or if it could be killed in some fashion. All she knew of Ort's clergy, aside from the fact that they were all supposed to be human and not maggot, was that they were supposedly immortal. No blade or spell could end them. They could be hurt and they could be inconvenienced, but never killed.

Well, that would just need to be put to the test.

Explosions rocked the stillness of the air, overpowering for brief heartbeats even the loud boom of the prayer chant. Then more booms and clouds of ash and smoke rose into the air. Tallah was escalating.

"Need to cut you off soon," Christina sent. "Something's changing here. They're getting back up. And now they really look like yours."

"Ready," Caragill said as he tested the bow's tension. "What do you want me to do."

'Give me time, Christina,' Anna demanded. 'We've found the song's source. I'm about to engage.'

'Hurry.'

Vergil didn't need explanations for what she wanted. He picked out an arrow from the scout's quiver and held it out to Anna. "I assume we'll inconvenience the bastard," he said, smile feral. "I'm itching to fight. Bring him down to me."

Poison on an arrow normally needed a bit more preparation than to just be slathered on the broad metal head. Anna did not have the time for more complex preparations. She made the substance as viscous as she could and slathered it firmly over the arrowhead.

"What he said," she confirmed.

As Caragill stepped out from beneath the rock and took aim, she allowed the doll to dissolve back into the blood it had originally been, and layered herself on Vergil's axe and sword. Only one of them would be needed to cut the priest for her to gain entry into its body. Once that happened, the two men were to run back to Tallah. She didn't need retrieval.

"Do it," she said and Caragill loosed.

A long moment passed where only the song filled the air. Then a pause, followed by a blood-chilling scream. Acid will do that. Especially when shat out by a particularly virulent strain of flesh-eating bacteria. One of Anna's greatest pleasures, back when insane in her Sanctum, had been to design new and improved ways of culling her stock of children.

It howled and screamed. Vergil's weapons bounced up and down as he stepped out, waving at the creature. Anna felt the motion but didn't see the thing, no energy spent on useless sensory information. Even her hearing was muted, kept active by the barest thread of power. It offered little detail, but all she needed to know was if the plan had worked.

In a moment, the sword she lay on whistled through the air. Then the axe. Something chipped at the edge and split Anna's shape in multiple. It didn't matter. She occupied the blood, not the unity.

More motion. More swinging. Speed and gravity conspired to rip her off the metal, but she clung tight.

A pause in the frenzy.

Then heat. And the shock of penetrating into a whole new world of wonder.

Now to see what a god's servant tasted of.