Before they died, however, they got very large. And very dangerous.
Sazed dropped from the tree, making his body light enough that he hit the ground softly. He hurriedly searched through his copperminds. When he found the one he wanted, he strapped it to his upper left arm, then climbed back up the tree.
He searched an index quickly. Somewhere, he’d taken notes on a book about the koloss—he’d studied it trying to decide if the creatures had a religion. He’d had someone repeat the notes back to him, so he could store them in the coppermind. He had the book memorized, too, of course, but placing so much information directly in his mind would ruin the—
There, he thought, recovering the notes. He tapped them from the coppermind, filling his mind with knowledge.
Most koloss bodies gave out before they reached twenty years of age. The more “ancient” creatures were often a massive twelve feet in height, with stocky, powerful bodies. However, few koloss lived that long—and not just because of heart failure. Their society—if it could be called that—was extremely violent.
Excitement suddenly overcoming apprehension, Sazed tapped tin for vision again, searching through the thousands of blue humanoids, trying to get visual proof of what he’d read. It wasn’t hard to find fights. Scuffles around the fires seemed common, and, interestingly, they were always between koloss of nearly the same size. Sazed magnified his view even further—gripping the tree tightly to overcome the nausea—and got his first good look at a koloss.
It was a creature of smaller size—perhaps six feet tall. It was man-shaped, with two arms and legs, though its neck was hard to distinguish. It was completely bald. The oddest feature, however, was its blue skin, which hung loose and folded. The creature looked like a fat man might, had all his fat been drained away, leaving the stretched skin behind.
And … the skin didn’t seem to be connected very well. Around the creature’s red, blood-drop eyes, the skin sagged, revealing the facial muscles. The same was true around the mouth: the skin sagged a few inches below the chin, the lower teeth and jaw completely exposed.
It was a stomach-turning sight, especially for a man who was already nauseated. The creature’s ears hung low, flopping down beside its jawline. Its nose was formless and loose, with no cartilage supporting it. Skin hung baggily from the creature’s arms and legs, and its only clothing was a crude loincloth.
Sazed turned, selecting a larger creature—one perhaps eight feet tall—to study. The skin on this beast wasn’t as loose, but it still didn’t seem to fit quite right. Its nose twisted at a crooked angle, pulled flat against the face by an enlarged head that sat on a stumpy neck. The creature turned to leer at a companion, and again, the skin around its mouth didn’t quite fit: the lips didn’t close completely, and the holes around the eyes were too big, so they exposed the muscles beneath.
Like … a person wearing a mask made of skin, Sazed thought, trying to push away his disgust. So … their body continues to grow, but their skin doesn’t?
His thought was confirmed as a massive, ten-foot-tall beast of a koloss wandered into the group. Smaller creatures scattered before this newcomer, who thumped up to the fire, where several horses were roasting.
This largest creature’s skin was pulled so tight it was beginning to tear. The hairless blue flesh had ripped around the eyes, at the edges of the mouth, and around the massive chest muscles. Sazed could see little trails of red blood dripping from the rips. Even where the skin wasn’t torn, it was pulled taut—the nose and ears were so flat they were almost indistinguishable from the flesh around them.
Suddenly, Sazed’s study didn’t seem so academic. Koloss had come to the Central Dominance. Creatures so violent and uncontrollable that the Lord Ruler had been forced to keep them away from civilization. Sazed extinguished his tinmind, welcoming the return to normal vision. He had to get to Luthadel and warn the others. If they—
Sazed froze. One problem with enhancing his vision was that he temporarily lost the ability to see close up—so it wasn’t odd that he hadn’t noticed the koloss patrol surrounding his aspens.
By the forgotten gods! He held firm to the tip of the tree, thinking quickly. Several koloss were already pushing their way into the stand. If he dropped to the ground, he’d be too slow to escape. As always, he wore a pewtermind; he could easily become as strong as ten men, and maintain it for a good amount of time. He could fight, perhaps. …
Yet, the koloss carried crude-looking, but massive, swords. Sazed’s notes, his memory, and his lore all agreed: Koloss were very dangerous warriors. Strong as ten men or not, Sazed wouldn’t have the skill to defeat them.
“Come down,” called a deep, slurred voice from below. “Come down now.”
Sazed looked down. A large koloss, skin just beginning to stretch, stood at the tree’s base. It gave the aspen a shake.
“Come down now,” the creature repeated.
The lips don’t work very well, Sazed thought. He sounds like a man trying to talk without moving his lips. He wasn’t surprised that the creature could talk; his notes mentioned that. He was, however, surprised at how calm it sounded.
I could run, he thought. He could keep to the tops of trees, perhaps cross the distance between patches of aspens by dropping his metalminds and trying to ride gusts of wind. But it would be very difficult—and very unpredictable.
And he would have to leave his copperminds—a thousand years of history—behind.
So, pewtermind ready in case he needed strength, Sazed let go of the tree. The koloss leader—Sazed could only assume that was what he was—watched Sazed fall to the ground with a red-eyed stare. The creature did not blink. Sazed wondered if it even could blink, its skin stretched as it was.
Sazed plunked to the ground beside the tree, then reached for his pack.
“No,” the koloss snapped, grabbing the pack with an inhumanly quick swipe of the arm. It tossed the pack to another koloss.
“I need that,” Sazed said. “I will be much more cooperative if—”
“Quiet!” the koloss yelled with a rage so sudden that Sazed took a step backward. Terrismen were tall—especially Terrismen eunuchs—and it was very disconcerting to be dwarfed by this beastly creature, well over nine feet in height, its skin a blackish blue, its eyes the color of the sun at dusk. It loomed over Sazed, and he cringed in spite of himself.
Apparently, that was the proper reaction, for the lead koloss nodded and turned away. “Come,” it slurred, lumbering through the small aspen forest. The other koloss—about seven of them—followed.
Sazed didn’t want to find out what would happen if he disobeyed. He chose a god—Duis, a god once said to watch over wearied travelers—and said a quick, silent prayer. Then he hurried forward, staying with the pack of koloss as they walked toward the camp.
At least they didn’t kill me out of hand, Sazed thought. He’d half expected that, considering what he’d read. Of course, even the books didn’t know much. The koloss had been kept separate from mankind for centuries; the Lord Ruler only called upon them in times of great martial need, to quell revolts, or to conquer new societies discovered on the inner islands. At those times, the koloss had caused absolute destruction and slaughter—or so the histories claimed.