It madeno sense at all.Isaac remembered the fight against the wyrm, when thesorceress had parted the sea of bones around him, and he felt a sense ofdisquiet bubbling up through his belly, because sparing all these lives hadmerely denied her a form of nourishment, when she likely needed it the most.
Whatwas she doing?
Why, inthe world, would she spare all these people?
Hetried to tell himself that there might be a reasonable explanation for allthis, that the sorceress was trying to intimidate the pirates into fleeing in apanic, that she wanted them to spread the word about her power and myth andcurses to the lands above, that what she was really doing was lulling Isaacinto a false sense of security while she consolidated the worst of her strengthdeeper within the tomb, hoping to catch him off-balance after defeating thepuppeteer.None of these explanations were obviously wrong, but they all ranghollow.None of them felt like the truth.
Somethingwas happening here, and he did not know what it was.
Hissense of disquiet only grew worse.
Slowly,the dust interrupted his thoughts.In the air,surrounding him, the specks were drifting and twisting, as if recentlydisturbed.When he concentrated, the glinting motes suddenly curled, shiftinglike sand sinking through the hills of a dune.They formed an arrow.It was anobvious point of direction.It was, quite obviously, a wholly unnaturalphenomenon.
The airsparkled, like metal.The more it glinted in the light, the more Isaac wasconvinced it was not dust at all.
Hegazed in the direction it wanted.
Down anadjacent hall, there was a pile of human bodies.Even from a distance, it wasobvious they had been perforated with holes, the gaping punctures leavingjagged marks in the flesh.As he focused his attention, bones began to wriggletheir way out of the holes, the white stalks squirming through the flesh likemaggots, tumbling to the floor, rolling and collecting.
Beyondthe massacre, the corridor widened.He could finally see the sacrum, thecentral plating of the pelvis.It was no longer above his head, but curvingdown toward the floor, spread out before him like a white, porous cliff, thebeginning of the pelvic wings curving like mountain slopes.On either side, hecould see the slight ridges and twin rows of holes that signified where thevertebrae had fused together.Each circular vent had been walled with graniteand gold, carved intricately with religious iconography.
In themiddle of the triangular sacrum, a relatively small set of bronze doors stoodclosed, surrounded by stalks of glowing cartilage.Here, the walls were coveredwith even more growths of ossein, like white mold upon rotten food.
TheExtraction Chamber.
As themasses of bones slithered from the fallen humans, they congregated around thebronze doors, wriggling into the same undulating shapes they had adopted in thecatacombs.The masses shuffled and tossed around the door, agitated andrestless, absently absorbing into each other as they passed and strolled.Isaaccould see human blood dripping down the stairs before the doors, like gentlered curtains.
“Followmy lead, Z.”
Sheslapped his back.
Hepressed forward, marching fearlessly toward the chamber.Halfway across, he wasnoticed by the bones.The masses flexed in surprise.At first, they wriggleddown into individual bones, smearing blood across the pavement as they slid inhis direction.He kicked them away, continuing on.Next, the more mobile massesthrobbed into his path, the skulls in their frames attempting to grind outwords.Isaac cast a dome of anti-necrotic light around himself, elicitingshrieks of pain and fear as the bodies slithered away.He burned a path throughtheir ranks, like flames through a garden.
By now,the rest of the bones had smeared themselves across the door to the sacrum, creating a pulsing membrane of body parts.They weresealing the entrance shut.When Isaac stepped onto the bloody stairway, thebones did not retreat—in fact, they remained defiant against him, bursting intoflame as his light seared through their hollow frame.Even in death, theyrefused to yield.
All of this,he thought, felt rather desperate on her part.
“Out ofmy way, necromancer,” Isaac said.
Skullstalks grew from the wall, sprouting like dandelions.The skinless faceschittered at him, swirling into a collection of eyeless stares.
“I—I—Issssa—Isssaaaaaaac.”
Hestepped back, just enough that his light was no longer burning the bones.Molten bone flowed like candle wax.“You couldn’t kill Soren, could you?Apparently, you tried very hard.”
Theskulls clacked their jaws.
“Ormaybe,” Isaac continued, “you left her alive, hoping she would ambush us, likeshe just tried to do.”
Behindthem, the squirming masses congregated together, sealing off any hope ofretreat.
“Well,”Isaac said, “thank you for sparing the pirates.I’m glad to see you’reupholding our alliance.Or, rather, I’m glad to see you’re taking my delayedkilling of you with such good grace.It’s appreciated.”
“Isaac,”the head stalks replied.
Heglanced at the dead humans behind him.Their robes were black, their facesyoung and vacant.“Is the puppeteer beyond these doors?”
Thehead stalks nodded.
