Monster Planet(111)

Sarah took another step. Another one. A bubble appeared inside the jar and splattered apart against its lid. She felt Mael Mag Och kick at her hands. It was all in her mind, she knew that, but he was fighting her. He didn't want to go any farther in.

'My mother. My father. Ayaan. Jack. All of my parents, all of them dead. Undead. And then murdered f*cking again,' she chanted.

I feel I really must protest. Ayaan isn't twice dead, Jack was just a false persona and your mother'

'You know nothing about my mother! Neither do I! That's the goddamned point!'

She kept walking. The liquid in the jar grew uncomfortably hot. Her chin burned against the metal lid. Her hands ached from his attacks. She took another step and the heat was just too much. She let go and the jar fell away from her. The glass cracked as it struck the carpet of bones. The jar broke apart and half the liquid inside sloshed out. The brain sat in what remained of the jar'a kind of broken-edged cup, half-full of liquid. Steam lifted from between its two hemispheres like a ghostly crest.

Do you think this will kill me?he asked. He sounded quite calm.There's no point to this, whatever it is you may want, lass. I have as many bodies as I like. I have as many'

She shoved the noose back into her pocket. She didn't want to hear anymore. She watched the brain turn white and shrink down as the liquid bubbled and hissed and frothed. She watched the brain boil in its own juices. That was the point. It made her feel a little better. That was the point.

A mountain of flesh that stank like an unwashed cultist grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up into the air. Someone had noticed she was missing and had come to bring her back. She didn't scream. Bodily she was carried back to the Tsarevich's camp, most likely to be killed.

Life had a little surprise for her. Ayaan was waiting near the scaffolding. Sarah was dumped at the lich's feet. Ayaan helped her stand up.

'I didn't like him either, but the Tsarevich had a use for him.' Ayaan shook her head fiercely. 'I hate to play at being the adult and telling you not to meddle in things you don't understand.'

'Then don't. And I'll return the favor.' Sarah refused to meet Ayaan's eyes.

The two women who had attended Nilla as she approached the Source returned. Their wires lead across the valley and up the ridge on the far side. Their faces and hands were covered in a fine powdering of white and yellow dust. A boy with a bucket of water and a ladle ran up to them and let them drink and wash up.

The Tsarevich, still sitting in a wire shopping cart, was wheeled closer to the scaffolding. His head dangled over the side and his knuckles twitched against the bones as he was brought bumping and rattling to the base of the construction.

'This is the master you serve,' Sarah said. She lacked the energy to really belabor the point but she couldn't let it go without comment, either. 'The monster's monster.'

'He'll be transformed in a moment. If physical beauty is all you look for in a leader then I've taught you poorly.' Ayaan sounded pissed. Sarah wondered how far she would have to go to make the lich attack her. If she was doomed, if she had no more chances, maybe it would be worth it. Maybe she could anger Ayaan so much that her body, or rather her corpse, would be of no use to the Tsarevich.

Sarah's blood went cold at the thought. Not the thought of being a ghoul. At the thought of dying at all. She knew it was just her biology speaking, her ingrained survival instinct, but it didn't seem to matter. Her body didn't want to die, no matter what her mind might decide. It would rebel against her if she tried to commit suicide.

The electronic boxes bolted to the scaffolding started to buzz and the exposed vacuum tubes came to life, glowing a cheerful orange. One of them flared white and then burst into darkness, then another. Cultists were ready for this and switched out the bulbs with remarkable speed. They must have been training for this for months, Sarah decided. Drilling for their one big moment, their contribution to the Tsarevich's ascendance.

Under the power of his own unequal arms the arch-lich dragged himself up a ladder on the side of the scaffolding. Rung by torturous rung he hauled himself upward. The air smelled of ozone and real heat was coming off the machinery by the time he reached the top. He waved at the crowd, who cheered in return. Then he threw himself forward, right onto the twin giant metal spikes.

He sank downward with a scream that was a little bit violent agony and a tad sexual. The spikes transfixed him. Impaled him. Pure energy rushed through them like water down high-pressure hoses. It flooded into him. Sarah could see it crackling around him like electricity crawling over his skin. His one visible eye went wide with it, his mouth opened in a perfectly roundO. A stench of burning hair rushed down off of him and flowed across the spectators. Sarah raised her bound hands to her face.