GODSWAR: The Spear of Athena, Chapter 2

Quester and Ingram had had an unexpectedly enthusiastic greeting...

 

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Chapter 2.

Quester felt his antennae flick involuntarily – the equivalent of an astonished blink. "I am," he agreed, "but from whence this amazement?"

The Sorter was still staring down at him, then glanced back at the Artan. "Excuse me a moment; Guild business, you unnerstand."

Without waiting for the Querent to answer, the Sorter grasped both Quester and Ingram gently by the shoulders and guided them through a set of doors and down the hall to one of the private meeting rooms. Only when the door was shut did he turn back to face them.

"Well now," he said. "Well, now. Sorry about that, but… you'll remember back when you applied, we had a talk about your people's Nests getting wiped out?"

"Indeed," Quester said. "You knew of two besides my own."

"Well, then, here's the thing: add three more to that."

"Shargamor's Water." Quester whispered the prayer-curse. "And we learned of another on our travels. Seven. I… I do not know if there were more than seven Nests!"

"No more do I," the Sorter said heavily. "But even that's not the worst. See, there ain't many Iriistiik Adventurers – seeing as how most o' your people are nicely set up in your Nests, you do business outside but ain't got so much reason to go runnin' around gettin' in trouble. Still, there's always a few, just like there's always a few Toads willing to get out of the mud and hop to it. We've had ten on the rolls here, countin' you, that were active." Quester felt his spiracles tightening with dread even before the Sorter finished, "Now? Don't think there's four of 'em left."

Ingram muttered his own curse. "Something's even hunting down the Adventurers? The singletons, the ones without a Nest or on long missions away?"

"Seems like it must be, don't it?" The Sorter shook his head dolefully. "Once I noticed the pattern – got a report of a murdered Nest, then two of our Iriistiik members killed – I sent out alerts, but it's always guesses and grabs as to whether they'll get through to everyone. Way you reacted tells me it sure didn't get to you."

Quester had been thinking. "We must assume this is a coordinated effort. Yes?"

Ingram's brow furrowed. "Well… I guess, yeah. I mean, maybe one or two could be accidents or coincidence, but it wouldn't make sense that there were two or more groups that just suddenly decided to hunt down your people." His head snapped up. "By Athena… The Xiilistiin."

"What?" the Sorter snapped. "Xiilistiin? I haven't heard of any of those monsters active in decades!"

"I wish we hadn't," Ingram said. "They're active and working with someone – we think Ares – inside Aegeia."

"Kharianda protect us." The Sorter seated himself with a sigh. "I'll have to put out another alert to all the Guild Houses. Xiilistiin! Xiilis are bad enough, and gods know we've tried to wipe them out, but Xiilistiin…" he shook his head. "Iff'n we weren't already in all-out war, this'd be a top-alert emergency."

Ingram frowned, and Quester could smell his friend's puzzlement. "I'm not arguing – especially after what I've seen – but I didn't realize they were considered that bad."

"Prob'ly because after they showed up, weren't a single country or Guild House that wasn't happy to hunt 'em down. Parasite soul-stealers? Ain't much worse'n that, believe you me." The Sorter pursed his lips. "See, stronger their Swarms get, the better they get at their imitations, more they can steal from the people they catch. It's like an avalanche – starts small, but every little bit speeds the thing up, until next thing you know you've buried a whole Chromaias-damned valley under it. An' if they get a Patron – god or demon, and they really like to cozy up to some of the Mazolishta, Erherveria, and some of the others – they just get worse."

Ingram bit his lip. "Ugh. Okay, I can definitely see that. But what's the Xiilis?"

"They're… well, I guess you'd say the ancestors of the Xiilistiin. Look kinda similar, but not as bright, and they're not nearly as dangerous. Work in broods from one hatching, and their imitation of their prey is a lot less impressive. Don't know how they changed to the Xiilistiin, but –"

Quester clicked his mandibles together as an exceedingly unwelcome Mother-memory surfaced. "I do."

"Beg pardon?"

"It was… our fault, in a way," he said slowly.

"Your fault?" Ingram stared, then, "Oh. You mean the Iriistiik?"

"Yes." He slowly lowered himself to a sitting position, his abdomen forming the third leg of a stool with his legs locked. "The Xiilis have always been predators of the Iriistiik, one should understand. Their ability to mimic scent and pose and such exploits some of our species' particular weaknesses, so a Xiilis brood could infiltrate a Nest and parasitize and kill us fairly easily.

"Their broods are small, however – eight to fifteen individuals, in general – so they were a frightening but self-contained problem for the most part, and when discovered they could be driven out or killed. Xiilis are not terribly bright, and the powers and abilities they can mimic are limited and almost never as strong as the original. Thus they nearly always preyed exclusively on workers, rarely on warriors.

"But…" He paused. "Understand, there are many things the Iriistiik do not discuss commonly with those not of the Nests. Some of these things may nonetheless be known; do you know how the Mother of a Nest becomes who she is?"

"Not exactly," the Sorter said after a pause. "Seems to me I've heard it's somethin' like bees, right?"

"Very much so, yes. A particular larva is chosen, and raised with a very special… food, you might say, manufactured by the Nest. This Mother's Meal transforms the eater into a Mother; in an emergency – for example, if the Mother is somehow killed – one of the Thinkers may partake of the Meal and transform, though this is much more stressful and possibly deadly."

After a moment to gather his thoughts, Quester bobbed his antennae, inhaled, then went on. "One unfortunate Nest was raided by a strong brood of Xiilis, one that had already taken a small pack of cloakwolves." He saw Ingram wince, sensed his friend's understanding. "Yes. So they were even more adept at hiding themselves from us than normal. The leader of the brood made it to the central breeding chamber and substituted itself for one of the larvae."

"Oh, I'm not likin' what I'm thinkin' here."

"Yes. The Nest was preparing to begin a new Nest, and of course the first step was to make a new Mother. And so the brood-mother of the Xiilis was fed Mother's Meal."

"Athena's Mercy. And so was born the first Xiilistiin."

"Yes. So well-placed was she that she was able to maintain her deception and get four more of her brood changed before the Nest's Mother sensed something wrong." He felt his wingcases tighten and buzz in distress. "Too late."

"They wiped out that Nest."

Quester nodded. "And there made the first Swarm-Heart."

Ingram frowned. "And all Xiilistiin are decended from that one brood?"

"In a manner of speaking, but not all directly. You see, with the transformation they became, in some ways, related to us, or at least powerful mockeries of us. Their Brood-Queens and attendants make something very similar to Mother's Meal, and they can use it to bring in Xiilis and transform selected members. So they are not inbred nor easily vulnerable."

"Well, the Guild thanks ya for the information," the Sorter said after a moment. "More we know about 'em, the better we can deal with 'em." He gave a wry smile. "But ya didn't come here ta just give me a history lesson. What brings ya back to the Guild? Need a place to stay? Lookin' to buy hard-to-get merchandise? Or maybe just gonna pay yer dues?"

Ingram laughed. "Yeah, they are about due, right?" He reached into his pouch, rooted about, and then pulled out the crystal sword they'd taken off one of Ares' servants a few months ago. "Here, that ought to cover us for a while."

The Sorter raised his brows. "An' of course you haveta make it the harder way. You know there's a ten percent assessment and conversion fee this way."

Quester dipped his antennae. "We are aware. But I believe you will find it is more than sufficient. According to our own wizard, it is a quite powerful weapon, fourth-circle with additional enhancements."

"Fourth, eh? I'll have our people check it out, but I'm sure you're right. Sure, that'll keep you paid-up for a while. So what d'you need?"

"Research and advice," Ingram said, "on how to do the impossible."

A booming laugh came from the bilarel. "Well, then you've definitely come to the right place, Adventurers!"