Kell's Legend

terrible, deadly enemy, Ilanna said, and Kell felt the axe vibrating in his fingers, growing hot with a million tiny judders. You cannot kill it, so do not ever try. Even I could not sever his head, crush his bones. The best you can do is slow him down, for every cell in his alien body is infused with blood-oil magick. He is a creature of blood, and nothing mortal can break him.
    How do I slow him?
    He is tall, off-balance; a creature of mechanical motion. Aim for his knees, strike his knees and ankles with all your might. You may buy yourself a minute at best. But be quick, Kell. Her voice rose to a shriek as their sliver of time, their slice of twisted reality started to accelerate in sudden violence into the real-
    World.
    The bone tubes slammed for Kell’s heart and he rolled, fast, slamming the ground and coming up, teeth bared in a grimace, axe clenched tight to his breast. The Harvester chuckled, frame bobbing as he turned on Kell who charged, axe swinging for the Harvester’s chest. The creature made no move toprotect itself, but instead attacked, clawed hands lashing out at Kell who altered his strike at the last moment, his charge turning into a low roll as the axe swept for the Harvester’s knees…there came a crunch, a compression of bone, and the Harvester shrieked and buckled, toppling like a sack of dry twigs and Kell was up and running, pushing Nienna and Kat along towards the stunned figure of Saark, who was crawling to his knees, clutching his head. Blood tricked from a cut at his temple, and he looked ashen, about to be sick.
    “Is it dead?” breathed Nienna, and they all glanced back.
    Across the gloom of the tannery, the Harvester rose to its feet and turned to face them. Its eyes burned like tiny black holes of hatred. It pointed at Kell, and started forward, and the group ran between huge tankers, rusted and smeared with shit, making the girls gag and vomit. Down a brick slope they ran, and Kell pointed with his axe, in silence, almost afraid to speak. There was a wide tunnel, which led out and down…
    “I can’t crawl in there!” wailed Nienna.
    “You’ll have to, chipmunk,” said Saark, flashing Nienna a smile she did not understand, and jumped in, shit and chemicals splashing up his leggings, staining his silk shirt, mixing with blood, and vomit and rendering his dandy imagery a bad comedy. The opening wasn’t as wide as it first looked, and Kell leapt in, splashing forward, with the girls following reluctantly. They stooped, squeezing into the waste pipe, Kell leading and Saark taking up the rear, his rapier out, his eyes dark.
    The Harvester stopped, making a soft keening sound. Ice-smoke drifted from the cuffs of its robe, and it watched the four people vanish. In silence it turned and stalked from the tannery.
    The waste pipe led down, beneath the tannery and into a narrow black-brick sewer filled with waste. Kell dropped in, scratching the skin of his hands and shins and belly, then helped Nienna and Kat to climb down the rugged, crumbling brickwork. He turned, squinting at distant light, as a cursing Saark dropped down beside him.
    “Thanks for the help,” he said, tone openly sardonic.
    “Don’t mention it.”
    “Damn! Would you look at this silk shirt? I’ll never be able to get it clean. Do you know how much it cost? It’s the finest weave, from the Silk-Blenders of Vor…they wear these in Leanoric’s Court!”
    “There are more important things than silk shirts, Saark.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you know how many women this shirt has wooed? How many tapered fingers have stroked its flank? It’s like a magick key. First it unlocks the heart; then it unlocks the chastity belt.”
    “Grandpa, what’s a chastity belt?” came Nienna’s voice from the gloom.
    Kell threw Saark a dark look. “Nothing, don’t listen to the pampered shit-streaked fool. Follow me. We need to move fast.”
    They splashed through thick, swirling waste, trying hard not to think about the guts and offal, dyes anddogshit which made up the slurry. At one point Nienna brushed against a dead cat, half-submerged, and she screamed, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Her body heaved, frail frame wracking with disgust, and Kat comforted her, holding her close, as they continued to wade forward. There wasn’t time to stop; no time for weakness. The Harvester might be waiting at the other end of the tunnel.
    The tunnel was long, dropping at several stages on its way down to the