The next body that arrived was more impressive--a towering barbarian, laden with muscle, who had perished from a spear in the back. He was every bit as formidable as the order form suggested, though getting a bit ripe after two weeks on melting ice. It gave the three of them--Helen, the delivery man, and Geleon--quite a struggle to get him from the wagon, up the stairs, and onto the work table.
It took a lot of waxing to get the body softened up, but at last he was ready to receive the red hydra's teeth. Geleon sent Helen from the room and closed the thick iron door, bolting it. He had no idea what was going to happen and he feared for her safety.
Geleon took a fang and ran it over the flesh, near the heart. His sorcery guided his hand, until the hand seemed to move of its own accord. His breathing grew raspy, chills flooding his body as he plunged deeper into the unknown. He lost track of time and his surroundings. He was vaguely aware that his head was throbbing with pain and pressure.
Geleon lived in his imagination, envisioning a warrior that was unstoppable in attack and defense. He implanted six teeth this time, two more than usual, working them into areas he would previously never have dared go near--the lungs, the heart, and even the ultimate danger zone of the spine. One slight wiggle or accidental turn of a tooth could corrupt the corpse and either make it too weak to be useful or too savage to be controlled.
When he was finished, Geleon slumped to the floor and slept. Later, a groan startled him awake. He scrambled up and came face to face with his warrior. Not only had the corpse awakened after only a few hours, but it had also ripped its chains in two. It stood before Geleon, its cunning eyes looking him over. Its flesh was a fiery crimson hue rather than the usual grayish-blue. Some sort of hard-looking exoskeleton covered its body, as if the corpse had been turned inside out. Two twisted horns jutted from its forehead, and large fangs--similar in appearance to the hydra's teeth--hung from its jaws. Its fingers tapered into bony talons.
"Stand still!" Geleon commanded, his voice shaky in his ears. The corpse tore the iron cufflinks off its wrists and raised a clawed hand as if to rip off Geleon's head.
"Halt!" Geleon bellowed, forcing himself to stand his ground.
Slowly it lowered its arm, the crimson eyes sizing Geleon up. Geleon realized he had gone too far. In his burning desire to protect Drezian, he had violated rules Drezian had always warned Geleon to adhere to at all costs. This corpse warrior had become almost like a child of the red hydra, bearing some of the legendary monster's characteristics.
Geleon pointed to the table with a shaking hand. "Lie down."
The warrior glanced at the table, seemed to consider Geleon's command for a moment, and then did as ordered. Geleon's breath rushed out in relief.
"Wait there until I call upon you," Geleon said.
"Geleon?" Drezian called out. "Open the door."
Geleon unlocked it, and Drezian and Helen came in. Drezian inspected the warrior, his eyes wide with awe. "What have you created, Geleon? I told you to build me a defender, not a demon. It's as if you have violated every rule I ever taught you!"
"By the gods, it's ugly!" said Helen, shuddering. "It barely looks human."
Geleon bowed his head. "I lost control, Master. And I suggest you not get too close to it. It seems reluctant to obey, and it acted as if it wanted to attack me."
"It is hopelessly aggressive," said Drezian, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "like the red hydra herself." That strange gleam Geleon had noticed earlier was in Drezian's eyes again. "Tonight, I will sleep in my room. And my life will rest in the hands of your creation."
"Why?" Geleon said. "You should sleep in your hiding place again."
Drezian shook his head. "No, I cannot hide forever. I will make my stand tonight. I sense that you have reached your limit for now with this creation and can go no further without more work and training."
"But what if it's not enough?" Geleon said.
"My will leaves most of what I own to you," said Drezian, "and a little to Helen." He embraced the girl. "Be strong, my dear," he said. Then he limped from the room.
"Don't let him die, Geleon," Helen pleaded.
"It's not up to me anymore," Geleon said. "I've done all I can. It's up to that demon on the table."