The Deep Ash wasn't just fog. It was a shroud.
Visibility dropped to five feet. The air was thick with suspended particulates that tasted like copper and old blood. Kael had tied a strip of cloth over his nose and mouth, soaked in vinegar found at the waystation, but he could still taste the poison.
"I can't breathe," Elric wheezed, stumbling behind him. The scholar was bent double, coughing a wet, hacking cough.
"Keep the cloth wet," Kael murmured, his eyes scanning the grey wall ahead.
"It's dry," Elric said. "Everything is dry."
They had been walking for six hours. The terrain was treacherous—jagged obsidian shards hidden under drifts of soft ash. One wrong step could snap an ankle.
Click.
Kael stopped.
It was faint. A metallic sound, like a hammer tapping a nail, but muffled.
"Did you hear that?" Kael realized his hand was already on his sword.
Elric froze. "Hear what?"
Click. Whir. Click.
It was coming from the left. No, the right. The fog distorted sound, making it impossible to pinpoint.
"Something is out here," Kael whispered.
"Scavengers?" Elric asked, his voice trembling. "Like in the Void?"
"No," Kael said. "Heavier. Mechanical."
He drew his iron sword. The metal felt comforting in his hand, a stark contrast to the burning weight of the Obsidian arm under his cloak.
A shape loomed out of the fog.
It was massive. Four legs made of rusted girder-beams. A central chassis that looked like a mining cart welded to a steam boiler. It moved with a jerky, spider-like gait, its pistons hissing.
An Ash-Strider.
"Spire tech?" Elric gasped backing away.
"No," Kael said, watching the machine. "Look at the welds. It's scrap-built."
The Strider didn't attack. It stood there, its single red optical lens focusing on them. Then, another shape appeared behind them. And another.
Three of them.
They were being surrounded.
"They aren't attacking," Kael realized. "They're herding us."
"Herding us where?" Elric asked.
The lead Strider stepped forward. A speaker mounted on its chassis crackled to life.
"Drop the weapons," a voice commanded. Distorted. Harsh. "Hands where we can see them. Or become the pavement."
Kael hesitated. He could fight them. His Obsidian arm could punch through their boilers like paper.
But that wasn't the mission. He needed allies, not victims.
Kael slowly sheathed his sword. He raised his hands.
"Smart," the voice said.
The Striders moved in, forcing them down a narrow ravine that had been invisible in the fog.
"Where are we going?" Elric whispered.
"To the people who built these," Kael said. "We found the Branch."