“There it is,” I said, leaning out the side of the helicopter and pointing at the carcass of the null devil. A camp the size of a small town had already sprung up around it. Orcs were processing all day and partying all night in their own personal brand of the Burning Man festival. Only this one was more Carving Beast. “Man, check this out, Rufus. They don’t waste any time, do they?”
“I shall take your word for it,” said Rufus, from his seat as far from the door as it was possible to get. The half-badger wasn’t much fonder of flight by rotary as he was flight by fixed wing, but he at least understood the utility of being able to fly above the ground faster than he could cross it on foot—even at the prodigious speed of a badger that could navigate difficult terrain with ease, day or night. He’d get used to flying eventually.
As we passed over the camp of the beast, I marveled at its length and size once again. This alien creature dwarfed anything in Earth’s history. It was bigger than any dinosaur or whale had ever grown, and now dead and half-buried with a layer of sand blown over top, it more resembled part of the landscape than a living thing. Just a black, rocky outcropping in a desert of dunes.
Hey System, how come I didn’t get a new variant or something for taking out the null devil?
I scowled. Figures.
We passed low over the site of the null devil and continued on toward the shining dome a few kilometers south of where we’d brought the beast down. The Ifrit capital had weathered the attack from the beast, though it looked worse for wear in doing so. I hadn’t imagined a disagreement over a lie would leave them so vulnerable, but Lura had said their active defenses were below the norm. Apparently the city being a revered site of what the orcs believed to be the spirits of their honored ancestors didn’t preclude a bit of mischief from time to time. And in fact, they believed the grandfather spirits would grow restless and bored without a bit of challenge now and then.
“We have seldom seen the city in such a state,” said Tamaho, echoing my own sentiment. their vessel tapped the floor with a pointed foot. “A great service you have done.”
“Enough to convince the king?”
“That remains to be seen. You are aware of their terms.”
We flew lower over the dunes as we approached the city, shooting an approach to a flat spot outside a towering stone gate carved with geometric patterns. The gate was currently open but guarded. I could see both Ifrit in mobile vessels and paladins out, clearing away rubble and scrap from the most recent attack. Surely, they would have been watching the battle from their city.
The paladins moved to form a line around the gate as we came in for a landing. They weren’t alone, either. Larger mechanical vessels accompanied them, looming even over the human heads and with interlocking armor panels. Each had sharp blades at the ends of robust limbs and a clockwork crossbow mounted high and manned by a paladin. Some sort of military vessel, then.
“Who are those?” I asked, pointing.
“They are Ifrit war forms. They are driven by unions of a dozen or more.”
I whistled. “That’s a complicated marriage. How do they all get along?”
“They are united by a desire to protect the city. These Ifrit also operate the sun crystal lances you saw.”
I craned my neck, looking at the spires that broke the smooth surface of the city’s dome here and there. “Those magic lightning guns?”
Tamaho waved a foreleg. “That is a crude and reductive description of their function of natural arcana. But somewhat accurate. It requires a union of 20 or more to charge and discharge one. As you can imagine, the null devil was resistant to all but the most powerful of magical attacks. If tensions are high and unions splitting and reforming, there may have been few enough warriors capable of keeping the null devil at bay. It is fortunate we were able to intervene when we did.”
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The helicopters settling down on the desert blew out a ring of dust, and a few dozen of my secretive service piled out to establish their version of a perimeter. That constituted them all standing in one spot gawking as Armstrong yelled at them, but I didn’t expect the Ifrit would be outright hostile while recovering from the attack. I stepped down from the passenger compartment myself. Tamaho leapt down in my wake and then spread his rotors to take to the air. Rufus edged his way down, but once solid earth was beneath his feet it seemed like the trader found his courage again.
Sparkers and builders also piled out of the helicopters, dragging equipment with them. They began to hammer away at a rough scaffolding even before the Ifrit war forms approached us.
Tamaho hovered forward, pale fire flickering as he conversed with the warriors in their own language.
System, do Ifrit not have access to the common language like everyone else?
Makes sense, I suppose, if few of them ever leave the city.
The System had been more willing to answer certain queries since the null devil’s defeat but still refused to broach certain topics. I wondered if its conflict with the null devil had itself limited it in some way, but one of those topics it staunchly refused to acknowledge was its own nature or the extent of its abilities, or even the null devil as an entity.
Ahead of us, more Ifrit were coming out of the city. They formed something of a hodge-podge of brass vessels, no two of which were exactly alike. Dozens had already congregated, including several of the simple manual labor vessels loaded with rubbish and scrap. Several of them pushed close to the paladin cordon, eavesdropping on the conversation between Tamaho and the war form Ifrit, or simply gawking at the hovering vessel.
The war form vessel turned, and flared a bright vermilion green. A small, four-legged vessel bounded out from behind the press, exchanged a few flickers with Tamaho and the war form, and then turned and skittered back through the city gates.
Rufus leaned forward. “A trusted royal messenger,” he said. “To take Tamaho’s words to the King of 1000 names.”
Tamaho floated back toward us. “We have informed the Ifrit that the words Rufus brought upon his last visit were true, and that we are not prisoners as Haut Voclai Behen Mira Do has claimed. But as Tabun and Horal have often been seen as eclectic and willing to pursue knowledge and practice bordering on the taboo, our words do not carry the same weight. It is problematic for Haut Voclai Behen Mira Do that their account is disputed. But their union began in much higher standing.”
“Well,” I said, “They do think I’m blackmailing you.”
“The city is also somewhat in shock at the defeat of the null devil, but they do not yet understand your role in the event. We shall illuminate them.”
Several of the gathered Ifrit, and even some of the paladins began pointing, and I glanced behind to see the builders inflating a balloon attached to a tether on the scaffolding they’d hammered together. The balloon lofted a wire, and the sparkers at the base of it were busy working a portable generator and fiddling with nobs and dials on their devices.
“Well they’re about to get a lot more accounts that dispute Haughty Von Haughty’s story,” I said.
The balloon continued to float upwards, straightening the long-range antenna wire as it rose. I heard the radio crackle on the ground as Bluff Apollo started to make contact. The sparker equipment burst into flames, but the flames quickly siphoned off into a ready clockwork vessel at the side of the scaffolding. The Ifrit stumbled sideways, impaired by their trip over the radio signal. Another followed, and goblins began to switch out more brass vessels and pieces of goblin artifice for the Ifrit to possess. The first few made their way over to the line of paladins and announced themselves with flashes of colored light. The whole gathered crowd started to look like a rave with all the Ifrit chatter going around. But more and more of the Ifrit arrived via radio.
Not all of them had wanted to come. Some of them felt as much a part of Tribe Apollo as any goblin. But they all understood the stakes if the King wasn’t told the truth and assured that all of the exiles remained with the tribe of their own free will. It knotted my stomach, watching all of the Ifrit we’d worked alongside for the past months, popping out of the radio and returning to the City of Brass. But every single one had to be accounted for. That was what Rufus had told me. Only the return of every Ifrit will assuage fears that the others are being compelled.
“Are we sure this is everyone?” I asked. I never had a solid count on the amount of Ifrit kicking around the bluffs and joyriding in the buggies and choppers. Unions split and reformed with different members, and any single entity could have as few as a single individual or more than 10. But I didn’t think any of the exiles that had remained when the malcontents set off back to the city would screw over any of their fellows.
The royal messenger skittered back through the gate, sprinting at top speed to speak with Tamaho.
“The king has permitted Tribe Apollo entry, and granted audience for you, myself, and our friend Rufus,” said Taquoho.
“Alright,” I said. “Let’s go set the record straight.”