Firegrass - 4. Getting into trouble

* * *

William was nearly to the center of the city. His decision to take the main road was a good one, though he'd had to make four detours already, two through buildings and two down side streets, to avoid some of the massive piles of rubble blocking the streets. The destruction was worse as he got closer in – he assumed the buildings had once been taller here near the hub of the city.

He felt the spell around him start to wobble and fade as he rounded a corner on his last detour, just a few hundred yards from the central tower. It had a minute, maybe two, before it completely fell apart. He briefly considered trying to prop it up, pump more mana into it, but he discarded that idea. The spell he'd woven was an impromptu one, and he didn't think it would survive the attempt. No point in wasting power.

Ben, he called, reaching out with his mind to his partner.

What, came the reply. William had the impression that Ben was climbing over rubble and distracted.

Spell's almost up. Head for cover.

Thanks.

Ben broke contact, and William picked up his pace. He'd rounded a corner onto one of the radial streets and was only a few hundred yards from the main entrance to the tower. His progress had been much slower than he'd hoped, delayed by all the side streets and backtracking he had to do, working around the blocked streets and destroyed buildings.

Ahead of him he saw no sign of the stone constructs that he'd seen prowling through the city, though he had no doubt that as soon as the spell wore off he'd be spotted. The threads that made up the city's matrix were denser here, twining into thick bundles, and there was no doubt that inside the tower was the central nexus of the city.

He broke into a jog, hoping to cover the last distance to the entrance before his spell faded and company arrived. The entrance itself was impressive, the wide road ending in stairs that narrowed as they rose up to a door that had to be thirty feet tall. The door itself was ornate, with a huge version of the pendant design across it, the wings stretching from edge to edge, the central gemstone at least as tall as William.

He just hit the bottom stair when he felt his spell fade. Almost immediately he heard the sounds of rock hitting rock, footfalls of several of the constructs, from behind him. It was tough to judge distance, as the stone of the city made the smallest noise echo, but they sounded far enough away to not interfere.

"Time for a big entrance," William muttered, a grin crossing his face. He took the steps three at a time, enjoying for a moment the sort of power and grace of his body, something he'd not had before he'd met Ben.

He reached the top of the grand staircase and risked a glance behind him. Four of the constructs were approaching, their odd half-hopping gait covering ground quickly, but none of them had come near the bottom of the staircase. He muttered a quick spell and knocked hard on the door, the spell amplifying the sound, making it boom out throughout the tower and across the city behind him.

As the echoes of the knock faded the door before him swung slowly open. He heard the footfalls of the creatures behind him stop, heard their echoes fading slowly away. He didn't risk a look, hoping the things would stay back, and strode forward into the huge room the opening doors revealed.

The inside of the tower was a single huge space several hundred feet in diameter and at least fifty feet tall. The back wall, directly across from the entry door, had a large opening in it, beyond it was a truly massive room, stretching off for what had to be at least a mile. The floor of the tower continued for a few dozen feet, and william felt as if he was on stage in a great theater, looking into a Herculean auditorium.

A single figure, shrouded in a tattered light tan cloak stood in the center of the opening, looking small and harmless. William knew that wasn't the case, knew that there was no way anyone the city allowed to stay could be safe. It didn't help that his skin was crawling with the feeling of power and leashed magic, though he didn't dare take the time and attention to look.

"Come here, my dear," the figure said, throwing back his hood and gesturing kindly at him. The voice was a crackly tenor, its owner a man, and clearly not one who'd spoken much lately. The revealed face was that of an old man, what hair he had left scraggly and yellowed, his skin pallid and blotched.

William scowled at that, annoyance dispelling his trepidation. Long hair and fine features or not, it should have been obvious to even the least observant that he was a man. There was something odd about the stranger, an unusual tone to his voice and squint in his eyes.

"Well, old man, what do you want?" William pitched his voice lower than normal. The acoustics in the space helped, giving it a baritone boom that it usually lacked. The man in front of him seemed oblivious.

"What? Yes, I know," the man said. He wasn't speaking to William, instead talking to the air to his left. "Well, it's good enough, isn't it?"

The man had, for the moment, seemed to forget that William was there. He was muttering and gesturing at the empty space next to him. William walked slowly towards him, taking the opportunity the distracted and seemingly mad man had given him to look more closely at his surroundings. Letting his Sight slip in he was for a moment nearly blinded by the sheer number of threads filling the room. Great braids and cables of them were everywhere as all the threads in the city seemingly converged in this building. Most went up or down, but many snaked forward, through the opening and into a space he couldn't see.

The man who had confronted him was more than just mad. William had almost no experience interpreting people's personal patterns, but even to his untrained eye it was clear from the chaotic tangle of threads woven through him that this man was insane. More than that he was accompanied by half a dozen smaller patterns, complex and probably intelligent, but with no physical bodies. Spirits, which meant he was probably a sorcerer. William frowned. Like most wizards he had a reflexive distrust of sorcerers – they were notoriously unstable and often dangerous, spending far too much time dealing with things that weren't quite there. This one did nothing but reinforce William's impressions of them.

Most of the spirits accompanying the sorcerer were fairly simple, and likely not too smart. The one he was arguing with, though, was much larger, and bore a striking resemblance to the matrix he'd seen in the stone constructs that he and Ben had encountered. The spirit was tangled in the threads of the city, and its color matched the city's threads, a mix of browns and that single clear green.

He wasn't sure if it would help, but William took a moment to recast the spell he'd had on earlier. He did it slowly, muttering under his breath, imagining the hand and arm gestures instead of doing them. This was the third time he'd cast this spell and was just barely comfortable enough, going slowly, to do it this way. He was more careful with the shape this time, keeping the woven spell as close as possible to his skin. He doubted it would provide much protection from a concerted attack by the city, but anything would help, and he was far from comfortable this deep into the matrix the city was embedded in, especially if it had a sentience attached to it, and one that argued with madmen.

With the spell cast he let his vision slip back to normal, again being able to clearly see the room he was in. The opening behind the sorcerer clearly connected into the large building they'd seen from outside the city, a vast hall with columns along the edges. The building's floor was well below ground level, so even though the building itself was only three stories tall from outside, it had to be a hundred feet or so from the ceiling to the floor of that single vast room. On either side of the opening were the tops of staircases, presumably leading down into the hall.

"You're just in time," the sorcerer said, turning a sickly smile on William. "Yes, just in time!"

"Good," William said, deciding to play along with for the moment. "In time for what?"

"Resurrection, of course! You make seven. Seven, yes, a good number. Come, number seven!" The sorcerer turned and started walking down the stairs to his left, gesturing for William to follow. William briefly considered ignoring him, but if this man controlled the power of the city he doubted he'd have much luck getting away. He wanted to contact Ben, but was afraid that he might be overheard. Better to find out what was going on and throw it all at once to him, since William might only get once chance to do it.

Following the sorcerer down the stairs, William was taken by the immense size of the room. The immense size and the decrepit state of the place. While the building itself was intact, the decorative columns that lined the walls had broken and fallen, the windows were mostly gone, and there was grass growing in the maze of cracks that covered the floor as far as he could see.

Directly to his right was a large semi-circular dais that filled the space between the two staircases, with steps all around leading down to the floor of the hall. There were seven chairs arranged on it. The three on the left and right were simple, back and seat on a short pedestal, with no arms. In front of each of the seats was a tray of sorts, a thin rectangular stone slab held up by a stone column.

The seventh chair was far more ornate, more a throne than a chair. The seat itself was covered with a light brown cushion and wide enough for two people to sit in it. The arms were flat and wide, six inches wide at least, the fronts covered with ornate scrollwork in gold and silver. The back of the chair was six feet high, with a stylized pair of wings carved into it, and at the top was a gemstone the size of William's head, glowing and pulsing the same clear green as the stones in the pendants.

The wall behind the chairs had what looked like a mural on it, a hugely complex welter of lines that snaked and twisted and turned, covering the whole surface. There was a small brownish green gemstone set at each spot two lines intersected, with hundreds of the tiny gems twinkling with light reflected from the sunbeams streaming in through the windows and burning from within with an inner fire.

Some of the chairs were occupied, he saw. The three far seats each had a person in them, though they were emaciated and looked near to death. Two of the nearer seats also had people in them. One of them was, like the others, emaciated, but the other was healthy, and bore a striking resemblance to the innkeeper that had started he and Ben on this adventure. He noticed that both the nearer two people were wearing pendants like the ones that had been scattered throughout the city, though unlike those, the stones on the ones on the people were glowing softly.

"So," William asked as he descended the stairs, "what are we doing again?"

"Resurrecting the city! Yes, we are, now that we are seven. It will live again!"

"Great," William said, faking enthusiasm. "How are we doing that?"

"Simple, simple," said the sorcerer, leading William up the stairs of the dais. "Cities need people. Without people," the man said, looking William straight in the eye, "cities are nothing!"

William tried to get a good look at the two people as they passed. From what he could tell they were both women. The nearer of the two, slumped down in the chair closest to the stairs, was barely more wrinkled leathery skin and fragile bones, looking like the very life had been sucked out of her. The girl in the middle chair was in better shape, likely the innkeeper's daughter, though without her heartstone it was difficult to be sure.

"Sit here, now, and we can begin in a moment!" The sorcerer fished through the pockets on his robe as he waved William towards the empty seat, the one nearest the center throne. There was clothing on the seat, which he swept to the ground before he sat. The sorcerer came around behind him and dropped a pendant around his neck. William felt the tendrils of magic coming out of the thing, trying to link with him, but the shield spell he'd cast was keeping it out.

Taking a chance, he prepared the spell again, readying it for casting. He stood up and turned, trying to sound innocent. "Nice, I like it," he said, holding the pendant up and pretending to look at it. "She's got one too," he exclaimed, walking over to the innkeeper's daughter and kneeling in front of her. As he lifted the pendant she was wearing he let the spell go, layering some protection on her. He was gratified to see the glow fade from the pendant stone.

"Of course, of course," said the sorcerer, sounding impatient. "Everyone has one, symbol of the city. Now, sit!" He gestured at the seat William had just been in, anger starting to color his face.

* * *

Ben had ducked into what looked to be a restaurant when William broke contact. He hadn't seen any of the stone constructs yet, but he'd heard them, moving around the city, presumably looking for him and William. Ben had taken some care to stay away from the sounds, not wanting to be caught. The creatures may have been using the city to help find him, but he knew the city didn't stretch out as far as the inn where this had all started, and the girl had been caught easily enough.

Knowing that he only had a minute or two, Ben ran into the kitchens, then searched around for what he knew must be somewhere – stairs to the basement. He wasn't sure the service tunnels would be safe, but he hoped the lack of damage meant that the creatures didn't go into them. Even if they did the tunnels should be easier to navigate than the rubble-filled streets. It would be more difficult for the constructs to surround him as well, though he wasn't sure how much of an advantage that would be.

The stairs were, luckily, easy to find, tucked away next to what looked to be a large freezer, now filled with warm and desiccated foods. The door swung open easily, testament to the spells still maintaining the city, lit at intervals by soft glowing lights in small niches in the wall. Ben noted with interest that the walls and stair were in much better shape than the rest of the building. He also noted with interest the distant sounds of stone footsteps. He descended, closing the door behind him.

The stairs ended at a doorway that opened onto a wide corridor. The corridor itself was lit for a few hundred feet to his right, and twenty feet or so to his left with the same sort of glowing niches that were in the stairway, and the light they cast made it clear that the corridor itself continued on far into the darkness. There were doorways with stairs behind them as far as he could see, on both sides of the corridor.

This was obviously a service system of some sort. The corridor was at least fifteen feet high and twenty wide with a track down the center a few inches wide. The corridor itself was in perfect condition, absolutely clean without any scuffmarks, stains, or even dust. Whatever maintenance system was involved was apparently working better than the one maintaining the city above.

Ben wasn't sure, but the corridor seemed, so far as he could figure, to run directly under the street above him. That the direction he needed to go was better lit made him suspicious but he couldn't stay where he was, so he turned to his right and set off at a fast lope. The lights ahead of him turned on as he went, and a glance over his shoulder showed the ones behind him going dark – something was maintaining a constant pool of light around him.

When the corridor he was in ended at a junction with a much larger corridor he knew he'd guessed correctly. He was only a few minutes away from the central tower now, and hoped that there was a way in from underground – he didn't want to risk going back to the surface. As soon as he stepped into it the large corridor was lit all the way to the end, and in the distance he could see, on the end wall, a huge pair of wings, much like the design of the pendants he and William had found.

A tingle at the back of his neck made Ben realize William was casting a spell, and he broke into a jog, making for the corridor's end. Ben considered trying to contact William, but decided against it. If William was spellcasting then the last thing Ben wanted to do was distract him, and he was certain William would call if there was trouble.

The wall was as impressive close up as it had seemed from a distance, twenty feet high and twice that wide, the whole of the wall covered with the wings, done in raised stone and silver. In the center, though, cleverly hidden, was a door. Ben wouldn't have found it if it hadn't been open.

The light in the corridor behind him dimmed, and he saw the wall sconces and ceiling lights going dark behind him. The city was leaving him little choice – either he went in the door or he was left on his own, in the bowels of the city, in the dark. He wasn't sure what else might be in store for him in the dark, and wasn't sure if he might start finding doorways locked, or things lurking. He drew his sword and reluctantly went through the door, intensely disliking being led.

The room beyond was circular and huge, a hundred feet or more in diameter. The center of the room was dominated by a massive ring of consoles, with more than a dozen chairs around it. On the face of each console was a collection of glowing blue and yellow lines, with brown gemstones laying on the lines in random places. There was a phantasm, a transparent glowing green sphere, hovering in front of each chair, each showing a different image of a part of the tunnel complex.

The outer wall of the room had what looked like maps of parts of the city. Each building and street was clearly detailed, with overlays showing the tunnels and piping that ran throughout the city. The maps were lit in green, gold, and red. Most of the maps were red.

Hovering above the central consoles was a massive geodesic sphere made of silvery tubes, rotating slowly. Inside, at every junction between the tubes was a green gemstone the size of Ben's fist, each glowing faintly. A green beam came from each of the gems, converging on the center of the sphere. In the center itself was another green gem, a sphere at least a foot across, broken into many pieces yet still held in place by the latticework of force.

In every crack and crevice of the tube structure, and in the cracked central sphere, there were tufts of grass, the same grass that was everywhere in the city. Ben frowned. There was no way this could be good. He approached the central consoles to take a closer look.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a voice from behind him. Ben whirled, sword at the ready.

"Beautiful, and yet so sad." The man who said that was short, his nearly bald head coming up only to Ben's chest. He wore a loose tan shirt and pants, a leather apron with five pockets sewn across the front, and canvas shoes. Pushed up on the top of his head was a pair of glasses.

"Who are you?" Ben said, sword brandished and ready to strike.

"Oh, put that away," the man said, annoyance flitting across his face. "Barbarians and their pointless toys. You can't hurt me, you fool."

Ben frowned. "Ghost?"

"Fah," the man said, waving at the air. "Nothing of the sort. Spiritual construct. I'm a recording of Drosnen Bedlin, one of the Great Builders, though I'm sure you have no idea what I'm talking about, barbarian."

Ben did indeed know what the man was talking about. If the man, or construct, in front of him was really who he claimed to be, then he was speaking to one of the people originally responsible for building the seven Great Cities, the greatest and most advanced cities ever made, cities that had been lost since the last great Sundering. It had been long rumored that the ancient civilization that once covered, and some thought created, Ynar had a means of preserving a man's mind in a specially prepared powerstone. Ben had always thought it unlikely, but no more.

Drosnen mistook Ben's moment of stunned recognition for confusion. "I'm not really here," he said, waving his arm back and forth through a chair. It passed through as if the chair didn't exist. Or he didn't.

"Then where are you?" asked Ben. If he could retrieve the stone that held Drosnen's matrix in it, he'd have what could well be the single greatest treasure ever found.

"Buried deep in the underpinnings of the city," Drosnen said sourly. "There's no easy access. Believe me, if you could take me out of this place I would lead you there myself. When this city was raised they embedded my stone in the central maintenance core. There's no way to get me out without destroying the city, and I would likely not survive."

Ben discarded the idea of digging out Drosnen's stone with some regret, but he trusted that the architect of this city would know best whether he could be extracted. That still left him with questions. Drosnen seemed to like to talk, and Ben thought he might be less guarded if he considered Ben stupid.

"So why did you lead me here, if not to get you out?"

Drosnen sneered. "So I can shut the city back down, of course. Idiot. Having people in here has woken the city back up. I need them gone so I can sleep again."

Ben thought for a moment. He was certain that Drosnen was referring to more than just himself and William, which meant there were more people here.

"We came looking for an innkeeper's daughter."

Drosnen waved dismissively. "There are several women here," he said. "They are of no consequence, and the city's almost done with them anyway." Ben wasn't at all pleased at the way that sounded. "No, it's the one who awoke the spirit of the city. He's the one that needs to be dealt with. You," he said, eyeing Ben contemptuously, "should be good at that sort of thing."

"So you want me to kill him?"

"Kill, threaten, whatever," Drosnen said dismissively. "He just needs to go. Damn sorcerers, always making a mess of things. He awakened the spirit of the city. That wasn't good."

Ben frowned again. Drosnen, or his construct, was an arrogant man, plainly contemptuous of anyone he deemed inferior, a group that obviously included Ben. Ben was used to being treated like that, and used it to his advantage when he could. Drosnen needed Ben to do something, and that gave Ben some leverage. For what, he wasn't sure, as there was little he had to offer a spiritual construct besides being able to clean up his problem. Still, that might be enough for at least a little information.

"You're free with others lives, spirit," he said, letting his best 'ignorant barbarian' tone slip in. "Is this the way they did things in the backwater you came from?"

"Backwater? Backwater! You miserable, ignorant cretin! I'll have you know I was the central architect of the city of Jade, one of the seven greatest cities this world has ever seen! We had wonders the likes of which you have never beheld, wonders a fool such as you would never believe, let alone understand!"

"Pah," said Ben. The scorn was clear in his voice, and contempt writ large across his face, though he was secretly impressed. "How great can a city I've never heard of be? You lie, spirit. This city of yours is nowhere, just a fantasy you spin."

"Fantasy? Is this a fantasy?" Quivering with rage, Drosnen gestured and spoke a stream of mystic words, and in front of Ben was a three dimensional image of a mighty city, one that did truly impress. Graceful spires lanced into the sky, connected with a maze of walkways and aerial parks arching through the sky, spanning the distances between them. Trees were everywhere, on the ground, platforms, parks, and rooftops, and there were circular platforms flying from building to building.

"This was one of the greatest cities of all time, you ignorant fool. A product of my genius!"

A mad genius, Ben suspected. That the construct could cast spells was interesting, and more so the spell he cast. Ben's Sight was gone, destroyed years ago in a magical accident, so he could no longer See the threads that made magic work, he did recognize some of the gestures and words Drosnen had used. They gave a partial location, in both space and time, for the image that had been conjured. The image was at least four thousand years old. As for the location… there wasn't enough for Ben to pinpoint where, but that single image, conjured in a fit of pique, gave him more information about the location of one of the seven Great Cities, cities now lost, than nearly five hundred years of research and conjuring by some of the best wizards known had gathered.

"Pretty," was all Ben said, making it sound like a grudging complement. "Too much magic."

"Yes, well," Drosnen said, cringing a bit. Those three words had touched on an old sore spot, one that still bothered Drosnen. "That was always a factor. The city tapped into three separate power loci, and there were over a quarter million carats of powerstones in stations scattered throughout the city." Ben's eyes widened. The amount of power Drosnen had considered inadequate was more than enough to destroy a mountain.

"That was my great innovation here," Drosnen continued, obviously impressed with himself. "The city harnesses the mana of the citizens to run itself. Each provides a small part, harmlessly, but together, with over six hundred thousand residents, there was more than enough to maintain the city."

"The pendants," Ben said.

"Indeed, the pendants," Drosnen agreed. There was a smug tone in his voice and a satisfied look on his face. He was obviously proud of his accomplishment, all puffed up and nearly strutting.

"What happened to the people?"

Drosnen looked chagrined. "That was my one miscalculation. There was no limit placed on the central core on how much power it could draw. There was an… incident. Too much power was used."

Ben's eyes widened in horror as he realized exactly what happened. "The city ate its own people."

"Well, yes. That wasn't the intention," Drosnen said quickly. "It was, as I said, a miscalculation. A mistake anyone could make."

"What was this… incident, spirit?"

"There was some contamination in the core," Drosnen said. "The central controller was compromised, and he caused the power draw."

Ben looked at the grass-tufted construct in the center of the room. "Some grass got into the city's central matrix, it drove the person running things mad, he destroyed the city and ate all the people."

"I just said that," Drosnen said, sounding huffy.

"So why not weed the core?" Ben's tone was condescending, trying to goad Drosnen into giving him more information.

"Once the contamination was integrated into the central matrix there was no way to remove it without shutting down the entire system and recalibrating. There wasn't anyone left alive with the skills to do that, and the system still had too much power running through it to do it anyway. The controller also got imprinted on the central powerstone. It would have to be completely wiped and re-imprinted."

That sent a chill down Ben's spine. "So the madman who destroyed the city is locked into that," he asked, pointing at the stone floating in the center of the sphere.

"That's of no matter," Drosnan said, dismissively waving away Ben's concern. "The city can't act directly, not without a controller to direct it."

"So what's the problem?"

"Well, it has one, of course. I'd have thought that was obvious, even to you."