The Elf was screaming. He was screaming a name. “ANGUS! ANGU-U-US! ANGUS TAAKOSON YOU COME HERE RIGHT NOW!”
The only reply was the echo of his voice against the hills.
The air was ash. The floor was black glass.
Of the three chucklefucks that had decided to join her, only one had joined in with this calling. The Dwarf was seated grumpily on the glass by her side. Grumbling to himself.
Magnus, on the other hand, was bellowing, too. “ANGUS! OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE! C’MON, KID!”
Taako was getting close to the gauntlet, and the Dwarven corpse it rested on.
“Stay away from that thing!”
Too late. He was listening to it.
“Ultimate revenge, huh? Sounds cool. What else can you do?”
“Magnus! Get him away from the glove!” Killian tried to regain her footing, but the glass was slick. It was tough to run. She was too late. Too slow. This was going so bad. So very, very bad.
“I want my boy back, you son of a bitch,” said Taako. He picked the glove up. Knocked the crumbling hand of Gundren Rockseeker out of it…
And put it in his pack.
“What the fuck?” she said. “You resisted its thrall?”
When he looked her in the eyes, his mismatched eyes were dead. Devoid of feeling. Devoid of the will to live. But not, alas, devoid of thick tears that streaked his ash-stained face. “It can’t give me what I want,” he said, voice thick with loss. “My son is dead.” He pointed to something on one side of the perfect circle of glass. Where the horse she had once soothed was a charred corpse, and the harness for a pretty little Traveller’s caravan still smouldered. “I’ve got nothing to live for, now.”
Magnus spotted it, too. Even Merle, who seemed to hate everyone, said, “Oh shit…”
Killian was still trying to process the fact that all three of these idiots were resisting the thrall of a Grand fucking Relic. “You three have to come with me,” she said. “I can explain everything, just… after I get you to where I need to go. Okay?”
Merle said, “How can we trust you?”
Magnus said, “We’ve no reason not to trust her.”
Taako said, “I don’t care.” He shrugged. “Either she kills us or we find shit out. Whatever.”
If he had the ability that the Bureau needed, then Killian was instantly worried about his continued lifespan. This was a broken being. Looking for a corner to die in.
She summoned the transit orb anyway. Hoping for the best.