Chapter 46.2: The Search

Ventyr leapt aside as the golem took another sluggish swing at him. Fat, stone fingers gripped shut around empty air, scooping up nothing several feet shy of the sylvari’s wind-aided movement. He spun, looking back at the mechanical monster. It had no eyes, per se, but the glowing slits that represented them seemed to meet his knowingly.

What was the thing doing? They’d been at this dance for a long minute now, with Ventyr drawing its attention until it pursued, dodging its feeble swings, and repeating the process to draw it farther on, away from Crusader Yult. It was clear the golem wasn’t particularly adroit, but after seeing it devastate his geomanced wall earlier, Ventyr knew it was capable of more than it was demonstrating now; especially when each of Ventyr’s evasions sapped a little bit more of his dwindling energy, and the golem still never caught him, it had to be capable of more. For now, though, that hulking contraption could do whatever it wanted, as long as it offered them more time and liberty to find what they’d come for.

They were in Kikka’s prized lab Delta, the room just beyond the testing chamber. It was where they’d been developing that accursed energy weapon he’d watched them test on creatures in the containment cylinders neighboring his own—the thought of that still made his bark crawl. He’d also pieced together that the bandits who now appeared to be working with Kikka had been the ones to steal back the wagonload of jade from Arterium Haven, which meant this was likely also where that was being held. Altogether, these things meant the Inquest held the full sum of the mind-altering magic left from a jade construct that had ravaged an entire squad of Vigil soldiers, Crusader Yult’s squad of Vigil soldiers, and if the effects of the tests he’d witnessed indicated anything, the magic was still very much effectual. He had to find it: the jade, the weapon these asura had built—everything. Ventyr had to find it all and put an end to it.

“Nothing!” Fjornsson bellowed from the other side of the golem. The norn slammed a heavy fist down on the last of a series of workstations he’d been scouring. “By the Bear, there’s nothing here, Sergeant. Just a bunch of this techno-garbage. Nothing on any of these!” He grabbed the edge of the granite tabletop and tossed it onto its side.

“Stop, Crusader,” Ventyr barked, ducking another sloppy swing of the golem’s arm. “There’s nothing to gain in—” He cut off, realizing the golem had turned its feeble attack into a complete rotation. Its attention had shifted to Fjornsson.

“It’s back on you!” Ventyr warned.

Fjornsson grunted, stomping around the overturned table and drawing up his greatsword. “Good. I need something to swing at.” He made for the construct.

Effectively that switched the roles of the two Vigilmen, with the norn now taking up the job of distraction while Ventyr shifted away to continue their search for jade and weapons. Frankly, he wasn’t disappointed. Crusader Yult had let his frustration get the better of him, likely also compromising his investigative skills. Ventyr understood that—he himself was all but fuming—but whoever was searching had a responsibility to not let anything cloud his reason.

Ventyr kept one eye on the golem, which was currently absorbing a flurry of sword slashes with one, broad arm, but the bulk of Ventyr’s thought went quickly to scanning the room.

The stations, according to Yult, were void of anything but golem parts, tools, and those glowing terminal screens that were everywhere in this facility. The back of the room had equipment that seemed scaled to the hulking machine that was moving toward him, but there was nothing of the jade there. That left— yes, there was a large stack of wooden crates lining the southern wall: probably a dozen of them, each standing nearly as tall as any asura he’d seen here.

He moved for them, breaking into as quick a run as he could manage despite his pounding head. Hunger played a hand in that, he knew, but the dehydration had been far harder on him since he’d arrived at Thaumacore. He could feel the stiff dryness in his joints.

Ventyr ran until he hit the wooden crates, letting them stop his momentum instead of wasting time to slow down. It hurt, but he didn’t care. In fact, the pain helped focus his mind as he grabbed the nearest lid and pulled it free of its crate to gaze in at— nothing. The box was lined with some sort of packing hay, meant to protect whatever would be put inside, but there was nothing else there. Nothing.

Ventyr held his impatience on an ever-shortening leash. He raised a hand, and a spiraling wind snapped off his fingers, catching the corners of three other wooden lids and sliding them free of their crates as well. None of them were nailed down. Even before he looked inside, he knew what he would find: nothing but empty crates.

“Mother’s mercy,” the sylvari spat, spinning to scan the length of the lab once more. It had to be here, but there was no more here to search.

“Where is it?” he rasped, feeling his trapped frustration bubble over. He’d dealt with Penny’s treachery, held his tongue with the Scholar, discovered the theft at Arterium Haven, suffered capture, endured containment, and now put up with this haphazard rescue. All the while, Ventyr had controlled himself—he’d controlled himself through all of it. But this? Now? How could justice be meted if he didn’t find what he was after? Heat roiled up his arms. 

Ventyr gave in—it was well past time. He spun, setting his focus on the asura who had seemingly caused all of this, and the stack of empty crates erupted into a bonfire behind him.

“Kikka!” he yelled. “Where is the jade?!”

The asura didn’t even look up from her terminal. Whatever she was after, she’d been intent on it from the moment she’d left the doorway to the testing room. Even now, with her golem engaged in a purely defensive fight with Crusader Yult, and a wall of crates on fire, Kikka’s eyes were glued to the screen before her, and she mumbled angrily to herself.

Ventyr could see Fjornsson’s attacks slowing, and he couldn’t waste the time the norn was buying him. “Kikka,” he demanded again, starting toward her. “Where is the jade?” A small and unbidden spiral of wind kicked up around him as he walked, pulling in bits of nearby debris.

He was nearly upon her, holding his staff out in readiness, when her mutters began to reach his ears. “Alchemy take you, Vadd,” she snapped. “What is the keyphrase?! Where is— One? The soft-brained idiot included only one command for—”

Ventyr was finished waiting. He pointed the end of his staff and hurled a ball of flame only a few feet wide of her. “Kikka!” he roared.

She finally looked up, not at the flames that burst against the wall behind her, but at him, fully meeting his gaze. Her hands left the terminal keys, falling stiffly to her sides, and she glared haughtily.

“Where is the jade?” Ventyr demanded again, keeping his staff leveled at her. “This is the last time I ask you.”

Kikka raised an eyebrow, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a sickly grin. “Jade? You followed me into my lab for that dull jade? You’re absurdly late, you vegetative imbecile!”

Ventyr scowled. He kept his staff trained on the asura but let his eyes wander the lab again. He really didn’t see where in the open rectangle of a room she could have hidden the volume of crystals he knew should be here. His fibrous knuckles popped as he gripped the staff harder.

“Yes, you see it now,” Kikka scoffed. “I can see your leaves spinning around in whatever vegetation passes for a brain among your kind.” She stared at him smugly, but in her shaking fists he could see rage rising behind the facade, a rage he could increasingly relate to.

Ventyr has always fought to train and keep control, but control wasn’t simply about restraining power. Sometimes it was about focusing it. “Where is it?” he snapped again, drawing a step nearer.

Kikka sighed, a cheap feign of indifference. “Those imbecilic accomplices of yours must have entered from the courtyard, correct?” She paused, inspecting him. “Well, their observational skills are as pathetic as their excuse for a res—”

“Get to the answer,” Ventyr said. He knew his eyes were ablaze now, only a hair hotter than the air still rippling around his wrists and hands. This asura had been the cause of more suffering than the Pale Mother’s own mercy could cover. Fjornsson’s team, the charr vigilman in that green tube, the other victims of her testing— she fully deserved what justice fell on her, and he would see that it fell, but he needed her information if he was going to head off any further harm to Tyria and its people.

He glanced back over his shoulder, spotting Crusader Yult still dancing with the restrained golem. Kikka was playing with him, certainly, but he had the feeling that the truth really was somewhere in her cloying mockery, and he couldn’t subject the crusader to that fruitless struggle forever.

“It’s outside, isn’t it?” he said, turning back to the asura.

“Is that a question, you sponge-headed ignoramous? I just told you as much!”

Ventyr ground his teeth, but started backwards across the lab. The remains of the mursaat jade were outside, and if that was the case, it could only mean that she intended to move it, and soon. He kept his staff extended toward Kikka; she was too treacherous to turn his back on.

The sounds of Fjornsson and the golem grew louder behind him, until the norn finally appeared in his periphery. That was when he finally turned, spotting the golem approaching on his left, only yards behind the norn soldier. He was so tired.

Ventyr broke into a run, calling up a wind at his back to blow him clear of the clumsy construct. He spun as he flew, extending his will into the earth below and wrenching open a small pocket beneath the stone floor that held up the mechanical construct. He panted as he did it, but it worked. The golem’s weight collapsed the floor into the hole, driving its right leg three feet into the ground and throwing it off balance. It floundered, lost balance, and fell, stupidly inspecting the ground around it and groping around.

“Crusader,” Ventyr instructed as he passed, “back out the way we came. It’s not here.” He couldn’t see the norn’s reaction, but he heard Fjornsson on his heels almost immediately: both his heavy footfalls and his basso grumbling.

The two were almost back to the broad doorway through which they’d entered, when Kikka screamed somewhere behind them. Ventyr could just make it out.

“Enforcer,” she cried, “circumvent structural precautions, level three!”

He had no idea what that meant, and he didn’t care. They were getting out, and—

Machinery whirred to life, gears suddenly spinning to a pitch Ventyr hadn’t heard up to that point. The ground shook, and several large chunks of stonework bounced past them, beating them to the door.

“What in Bear’s name…” Fjornsson barked. But he trailed off before finishing the curse.

Ventyr spun to find the towering norn staring back at something that quickly stilled his own tongue as well. The monstrous golem had freed itself from the collapsed floor, and it had done so in force, launching stone in all directions. It turned at the torso to face them, both its legs back on the even ground and stepping around the sinkhole toward them. Far beyond it, Ventyr could just make out the dark glint of a smile on Kikka’s face.

The golem moved forward, its hulking chassis gaining speed with each step, in a way they hadn’t seen from the previously sluggish machine. Each slamming step cracked stonework beneath it, and it extended an arm toward them. It was much too far away to reach them, but something in the gesture sent a warning shiver up Ventyr’s trunk.

“Get out of here,” he snapped, grabbing Yult’s arm and pulling the norn back toward the door. Hesitantly, the huge man submitted, turning back to his previous course and following the sylvari’s lead. Only a few steps remained to their exit back into the safety of the testing chamber, a threshold the golem had previously been unable to cross.

Ventyr dashed through the opening, quickly assessing the positions of everyone he could still see. Some were where he’d left them. Others had worked their way farther into the room in re-engagements with test subjects.

“Crusader,” Ventyr called back over his shoulder, “we need to get to the others and move to the courtyard. That jade can not escape this place!”

Before Fjornsson could respond, though, Ventyr heard a whirring sound again, not far behind them. The sound stopped suddenly, with a loud crack, and even as he turned, Ventyr only just saw a huge, gray streak strike the norn and wipe him clear across his field of vision, smashing him into the southern wall of the testing room. It happened so fast that Ventyr hardly even heard the crash of impact before the two figures fell to the floor.

Despite himself, Ventyr froze. Yult made no sound, but there was movement amid the settling dust.

Ventyr jumped over the decimated remains of his stone wall, just inside the testing lab, and spun to face the golem. Whatever its game had been before, its mask of ineptitude had officially fallen now. The weapon that had struck Fjornsson started moving again, and Ventyr felt his eyes widen as he tried to split his attention between the huge golem in the next room and the strange fingering motions coming from the debris between him and Fjornsson.

That was when he pieced the scene together. The golem’s arm, he noticed, was extended, but instead of ending in one of those fat, steel hands that he’d spent so many minutes evading, the arm terminated in a gaping hole of a forearm. Ventyr could see the components and wires and whatever else comprised the thing inside; it was all just out there for him to see. And at the tip of it, where a hand should have been, small lights flickered on and off before turning a bright, solid red.

There was a whirring sound again, in both the arm and the thing that had struck Crusader Yult, and suddenly it all clicked in Ventyr’s weary mind.

He leapt back just before the golem’s severed hand took flight once more, careening at the same blurred speed back toward the golem’s outstretched arm. It righted itself midair, and the golem bent back to receive the flying object back into the socket of its forearm. The whirring stopped, the red lights disengaged, and the reattached hand flexed its fingers, working itself back into position.