Part 16: Guaron

Chapter 16: Guaron



"I'm sorry, Alis. I really am."

I'd been staring out the window of the Luveno in a kind of peaceful trance, just watching the stars. Odin's voice woke me up, and I turned to face him. "I've told you, Odin. There's nothing to apologise for. Nero knew the risks he was taking; you didn't force him to do anything."

"Maybe Nero did, but you should never have been drawn into this. If I hadn't come along, you'd still be living a quiet life in Camineet instead of travelling all around Algo risking your life to fight Lassic."

"I made a choice too, you know. Did you ever think that maybe we met for a reason? Not just you and me, but Myau, Noah, even Dr. Luveno and Hapsby... all of us. Maybe we were always meant to fight Lassic together. I can't think of any better explanation for an unlikely bunch like us setting out together to kill the king of Algo and surviving this long."

Odin smiled. "It's a nice thought. I'd like to believe it."

The rest of the flight passed in silence, except for the slightly discordant whirr of the Luveno's engines.

The Luveno landed at its usual spot outside of Uzo. Myau had been curled up asleep in his seat for the whole flight. When I woke him, he looked out the window in confusion.

"I thought we were going to Dezoris."

"Soon," I told him. "I just need to make a quick stop in Motavia first."



We drove across the ant lion-infested fields to Paseo. I'd seen something in an armoury there long ago that caught my attention, and thanks to stealing some of the fancier and less offensive tapestries off the walls of Medusa's tower, I'd finally accumulated enough money to buy it.



The finest in modern body armour, made of woven diamond filaments. The promotional display described it as a limited edition, but even after all this time there were still several unsold suits in stock. I wasn't surprised; anyone with the kind of money needed to buy one had the common sense to stay in town where armour wasn't needed. Anyone but me, that is.



If I hadn't known it was made of diamonds, I wouldn't have guessed; it was a fairly ordinary-looking suit of armour, made of a slightly translucent greyish-white material with a rough texture. But if there was one thing this journey had taught me, it was that appearances meant nothing. I tried it on and was impressed by how light and comfortable it was.

I thought of paying a visit to the Governor while I was in town, but I was reluctant to see that lecherous tub of lard again unless I needed something specific from him.



"We're going to Dezoris now, right?" Myau asked. "You're not going back to Palma because you left the keys to the Ice Digger back in Gothic or something?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, and I'm not going to go insane and order Hapsby to plunge us all into the sun either, but don't tempt me."



We landed outside Skure and drove to the Altiplano Plateau, but the Laerma nuts were still unripe. I was deeply disappointed to see that, and not just because it meant Myau would be grumbling all the way back to the Luveno. I'd gone along with everyone's requests for side trips so easily because we only had one real lead on Lassic's movements, and I wasn't looking forward to following up on it.

Somehow, we'd have to get to Baya Malay.

"Since we're on Dezoris already, why don't we visit the Corona Tower and the Dezoris Cave those Dezorians told us about?" Odin asked. "Maybe there are some Laerma nuts stored there, or someone still living there who can tell us where to find some."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "That's an excellent idea, Odin. Come on, everyone, let's go."



We took our best guess at where we were relative to the Dezorian village, and drove north and west looking for the Corona Tower. Eventually, we came to a large white building with a sense of foreboding about it.

Myau looked up at me dubiously. "This doesn't look like much of a tower to me."

"Nor to me," I admitted, "but it's as good a place to start searching as any. Maybe we can get directions."



The inside of the building smelled strongly of some kind of disinfectant, to the point that I was tempted to go back to the Ice Digger and fetch our gas masks.



Soon after we entered, a Dezorian in a red uniform came up to us and started asking who we were and what we were doing here. He seemed deeply suspicious of us, and wouldn't tell us where we were or give us any directions. We reassured him that we meant no harm and continued on past him, hoping to find someone less standoffish.



It became obvious as we continued on that most of the building's inhabitants were a great deal less lively and somewhat more hostile than the Dezorian at the entrance. I remembered what the old man in Skure had told me: The dead of Guaron Morgue have been called back to life... Well, being in a morgue certainly explained the smell.



We fought our way through the shambling hordes of zombies and approached one of the doors, only to have the floor give way beneath us. We all slid down a chute to the basement. Why the hell would someone set up a trap like that in a morgue?



We managed to find our way back up to the ground floor. This time, Myau went first, using his magic to find the pressure plate that triggered the trap and disable it.

"Where would you be without me?" Myau said with a smirk. "Back in the basement again, that's where."



The room behind the trap was a tiny administrative office. As Myau entered, he stepped through a tripwire. A blade swung out of the floor and slashed across his front legs, cutting him deeply.

"Didn't spot that one, did you, Myau?" I asked. I knew it was cruel to taunt him when he'd just been wounded, but it was no worse than he deserved.

Myau sniffed at me dismissively and cast a healing spell on his own wounds.

There were two dead Dezorians lying in a corner of the room, preserved by the cold but not embalmed. I was pleasantly surprised when they didn't get up to attack us. They must have holed up here and built traps to keep the zombies out; their emaciated bodies suggested they'd died of starvation.



One of the Dezorians was wearing a suit of armour, still in near-perfect condition. I recognised it as being made of pure Laconia; it was too big for me, but just about the right size for Odin. Any concerns I had about robbing the dead of such a valuable item were quashed when I remembered the trouble their traps had given us.



With a few minor adjustments to the straps and buckles, the armour fitted Odin well. After searching the room (carefully, so as not to set off any more booby traps) and finding nothing else of value, we used the flute to escape from Guaron.



Our wrong turn had been a serendipitous one, but we were still no closer to finding the Corona Tower. How long would we be stuck on this godforsaken ball of ice this time?