CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 |
Corporal Lars Muller stared morosely across the waste as the afternoon's shadows stretched longer. He did not look at the hill -- resolutely he did not. None of them dared glance in that direction, where the gods themselves were moving.
He clamped his teeth together to keep them from chattering. Oh, to be in Seroult, fighting at the side of Prince Ankharan, freeing the city from the heretics. His chances of dying by sword-thrust or axe were much greater, true, but so was the likelihood that he would keep his soul.
At his back stood the magic ship which the princess had bid them guard with their lives. He felt another, small tremor underfoot and decided he was glad enough to be posted here rather than on the hill with Captain Elb.
Something moved at the corner of his eye. Heart leaping into his throat, the corporal spun about. There was nothing but snow, acres and miles of it, running flat to a gray sea. Still, he shouted to Max, his partner. The other guard trotted around the silver hut.
"Look," Muller said, pointing to the ground. Among the many footprints in the snow was one set quite distinct from all the prints made by the standard issue boots of the Ankaran Guard. He and Max exchanged uneasy glances and drew their blades. With the greatest reluctance, Muller pushed open the ship's door and the two guards stepped in.
All was silent, the lighting dim. The men crept from one room to the next, trying not to look at the divine objects stored within. Once, Max whispered that he heard a noise to their right, but the room there was empty, too. Unexpectedly, they found themselves once more at the entrance when neither man had intended it.
"What are we doing here?" Muller asked finally, voice hushed. "This is the gods place! What do they need with mortal sentinels?"
"A very good point, corporal," agreed Max with a wide-eyed look around. The door slid open. Neither guard needed a more pointed hint. Invoking the names of the Three, the men made a quick, warding sign and went back outside. At once, Muller felt his spirit lighten. He tried very hard not to notice the new set of footprints that now led away from the ship.
A seamless black ribbon of road stretched before them, scoured clean by the winds. Exhausted, Elfie found it harder and harder to put one foot before the other. The road was steep, and the slender, featureless towers that lined it did little to block the wind. She slipped and was slower to get back to her feet than she'd expected. Out of nowhere, a pair of strong arms descended, sweeping her up. Reven!
"I don't trust her temper," he said quietly. "Be still."
Silly as it was, Elfie felt much safer in his arms and it was all too soon that they reached the top of the hill. Above them soared the great, stone ring. While she shivered on the exposed hilltop, the Rani went straight up to it and searched quickly across the face of its massive pedestal. She found a panel and drew it away. Inside were more buttons and lights like those in the fortress.
An ominous feeling came over the girl. At that moment, the Rani, crying out triumphantly, stepped away from the ring. Within its great circle, the fading afternoon disappeared. Emptiness, absolute dark, filled it. A wind roared out at them, bone-freezing cold, seizing Elfie's short hair and setting it on end. Even Thonnor was taken aback, face whitening, hand going to his blade.
Then, the dark came alive with stars, both distant and near, some alone, others in great, whirling clouds of brilliance. It was the same sight that had greeted Elfie when she'd looked up into the roof of the Doctor's TARDIS. Except here, there was no wall to separate her from those unimaginable forces.
"Thonnor!" The Rani had to shout to be heard above the well's wild song.. Thonnor gaped at her, face blank with fear. "THONNOR!"
She came to him, slipped her arm in his. Gently, firmly, the Rani drew him toward the ring. He resisted, but feebly -- as if hypnotized by what loomed over them. At the brink of the madness, he balked again.
"Stop!" A new voice rose above the din. Elfie twisted around, leaping to her feet, heart lifting irrationally. The mage's familiar figure crested the hill, his face pale with horror. On his heels was Captain Elb and his men. "Rani, don't! Thonnor! Get away -- run!"
Too late! Although Thonnor blinked and swayed, seeming to gather some of his wits, the Rani was faster. With an exclamation of annoyance, she gave him a hard shove, send the bemused kelblade stumbling into the heart of the dark. The stars rippled and he was gone.
The rotor stopped its monotonous movement up and down. Moric, idly poking through the Doctor's bookshelves, returned to the console. In vain, he looked over the bewildering collection of controls. Somewhere among them was the button that activated the viewscreen, but his memory of the sled disaster was too fresh to dare guess at which one. Squaring his shoulders, he marched to the door and opened it.
It was Kellin's parlor -- and it was empty. Surprised, Moric stepped out of the TARDIS and stood, looking about. There was no sign of anyone. On his way to the door, he was distracted briefly by his reflection in a mirror. His favorite coat was ruined! Perhaps he should nip along home and change.
There was no one in the corridor, either. In the distance, however, he heard shouting and muffled thuds. Uneasy, he started in the direction of the sound. The noise grew louder. Footsteps were pounding on the stairs -- a lot of them. "This way!" someone shouted. "Withdraw to the south wing!"
His uneasy feeling grew.
The Prince stumbled into view. At his back were kelguards and a few nobles. Anton was among them. All the men were armed and most wounded. Kellin, bloodied sword in hand, saw Moric and staggered to a halt.
"Your highness," began Moric.
Kellin roared, face white with rage, and hurled himself at the viscount. Anton was hot on his heels. "Your highness!," cried Marrowcroft's guard captain. "Your highness -- wait!"
The Doctor had miscalculated the time! Moric's instinct was to run for his life, but he stayed where he was. Kellin reached him, swung -- and missed by a hair's breadth. Weak-kneed, the viscount bowed. "I see I'm too late," he said.
Kellin laughed breathlessly, then grimaced, hand going to his side. It came away bloody. "You're a cool one, Marrowcroft. Too late for what?"
"To warn you of the coup. The Doctor swore he set his machine to arrive beforehand, but ..."
"The Doctor? Where is he?" Hope shook Kellin's voice.
"At the demon fortress. The princess is there. She's brought back the demons' magic ..."
"They're coming, highness!" Anton said tersely.
"My liege," urged another man, "we must flee!"
"Bring Marrowcroft," Kellin snapped. "He may have some value as a hostage!"
Moric heard more shouting from the stairs, new voices. So did his companions. They hustled him forward and were none too gentle about it. "Anton!" he appealed to the guard captain. "I'm not a traitor!"
Anton swore. "I know that, my lord. Just come!"
The battered party rounded a corner. At their head , Kellin stopped. More soldiers advanced from that direction. Moric recognized Pridelock livery and -- gods, Marrowcroft! His fury at his father's perfidy deepened. Moving suddenly, taking them by surprise, he broke free. "Kellin, this way!"
Ignoring the outraged shouts at his back, Moric bolted for the parlor. He reached the TARDIS. Flinging open the door, he turned and faced them. As a man, they all stopped, apprehension where anger had been, staring at the Doctor's machine and at him, so comfortable in its doorway.
"What the three hells is going on?" Kellin rasped. "What trick is this?"
"No trick -- escape." Hoping Kellin would hear him out before running him through, Moric continued: "I know my father is one of the traitors -- I found this out only hours ago! But he and I never did agree on much, and we most assuredly do not agree on this!"
"Highness, don't trust him -- or that damned mage ..." A kelguard advised.
One of the other men swore and slammed shut the parlor door. "Highness!" he cried desperately. "They are upon us!"
The prince had no choice. Moric knew it, and so did he. The parlor door shook as shoulders were battered against it. Kellin's smile was bitter. Wordlessly, he followed the viscount into the TARDIS.
The Rani's men quickly subdued the Doctor.
"Hold him!" she shrilled. "Elb! Search the fool!"
Her guard captain, scowling ferociously, did just that. For a few moments, Reven lost sight of the mage struggling in the midst of the angry soldiers. When the commotion cleared, the Doctor was in his shirt-sleeves, the Rani's men rummaging enthusiastically through the pockets of his coat and vest. In spite of the gravity of the situation, Reven couldn't help grinning at the respectable pile of knick-knacks growing on the ground beside them.
"No weapons, Highness!" shouted Captain Elb at last.
"Bring him to me," she cried, "and bind him! He's wasted enough of my time."
They dragged the struggling mage across the hilltop to Elfie's side and bound him with stout ropes. Breathless, he glared at the Rani, then, stricken, at the well.
"That is all, Elb. Return to your posts."
"But, highness ..."
"Do it! What happens here is between me and the gods!"
"Yes, highness." Clearly unhappy, the soldier bowed. With another dark look at the well, he ordered his men from the hill and accompanied them away.
"Afraid even they won't stomach what happens next?" the Doctor asked bitterly. "Rani, what you're doing is wrong! The kind of human-machine fusion you have planned has never worked! Look at the Daleks! The Cybermen! It's a dead-end idea. You're killing people for no reason!"
"Do you think so?" Her smile was arch. "Dear, dear Doctor -- tell me something. In your study of the wells, have you ever determined exactly how they work?"
"Of course. It's an artificial wormhole. An amazing bit of technology, actually."
"It's more impressive than that, Doctor. It's a braxis singularity."
"Nonsense!" The Doctor straightened. "The braxis is only theory -- and not a very well-supported theory, at that. For instance, in order to function as postulated, the generator has to be linked to a source of proto-matter."
"Directly beneath this hill." The Rani was smug. "Astonishingly, the Glinogri managed to do that much right."
"Really? You're sure?" The Doctor, much struck, stared at the ground as if he could see through it. "What about the submolecular drift in the DNA sequencing? Even a singularity has a certain amount of instability."
There was more mage talk, unintelligible to a poor Kelblade. It did seem that the Doctor was showing a lot more interest in her evil magic than was seemly. He peppered her with question after question. At first, the Ran seemed flattered, then: "Enough of this! Don't think I'm blind to your stalling. You think I can't do it? Let's see, shall we?"
Rani returned to the well, and as before, entered commands into the panel in its base. She stepped back, looking up expectantly. The Doctor bit his lip.
At first, nothing happened. Then, against the backdrop of whirling stars, a hand appeared, then an arm. As if passing through a veil, a figure stepped into the open. An icy chill stopped Reven's breath.
It was Thonnor, but subtly changed. His features were coarser, his skin gleaming with a curious sheen. He did not carry sword, but all around him, the air shimmered, and where he stepped, he left steaming footprints in the frost.
"See?" The Rani's smile was arch. "Shall I have dear Thonnor demonstrate his new talents for you, Doctor?"
"No!"
"Do you doubt my abilities now?"
"I have never doubted your abilities," returned the mage fiercely. "Enough of this, Rani! You've proved your point!"
"Nonsense. One experimental subject is hardly statistically significant, is it, Doctor? I need hundreds to prove that the process works as theorized. The preliminary research is ended, the time come to move with greater speed and purpose. With Kellin gone, the rest of Aliphor will fall easily. Imagine a world where everyone is not only perfectly suited for their function, but can have that function changed at will, within seconds! Now, stand aside."
She bent her cold, triumphant gaze on Reven. "My lord Avril," she said with mocking courtesy. One slim hand motioned toward the well. He felt the disrupter's gentle reminder wash through his veins like acid. "If you please?"
Kellin sat in the Doctor's armchair, hands gripping the arms until his knuckles showed white. His men stood around him, gaping overhead while the stars spun and danced. To Moric, they gave wide berth, and the viscount ruefully understood himself now to be tarred with the brush of magery.
He wasn't certain how much any of them heard or believed, but he did what he could to tell them the lay of the land. By the time the rotor stilled, Kellin had lost a bit of his pallor.
"Are there weapons in this ship, Marrowcroft?"
"None that we would recognize, I daresay. He is a mage."
There were nods of agreement to this obvious truth. Kellin's mouth thinned and he looked at his battered men. He returned his level gaze to Moric. "And what guarantee do I have that when you open that door, Ankaran's men are not out there?"
"They are out there," replied Moric earnestly. "Which is why the Doctor sent me to ask you for help."
Someone laughed shortly. With a deep sigh, the prince stood and drew his sword. He nodded his head toward the door. Moric, aware of suspicious eyes boring into his back, crossed the console room and opened it.
"By the gods!"
The TARDIS had materialized on a rocky outcropping overlooking the sea. This wasn't Krisalka, it was the central coast, the stretch of bleak highway that ran north and south between l'Sanjil and Seroult -- a place all too familiar to the viscount. The Doctor had not mentioned his stopping here. Something whispered past Moric's thoughts, raising gooseflesh. In an instant, he knew. The TARDIS!
"Where are we?" Kellin asked finally, in a dangerous voice.
Moric looked from one hostile face to another, but it was Anton who spoke.
"Sire," he said, bewildered, suspicious. "I was here a short time ago -- I accompanied my lord Marrowcroft on a tour of a family estate."
Kellin caught his breath audibly, staring at Moric with dawning realization and hope. "Damn," he said finally. "I knew there was a reason I called you friend."
Elfie watched, numb with horror, as the Reven's tall figure neared the well. Why did he go so willingly, neither looking to the right nor the left? Dreadful premonition shrieked at her; she looked toward the Doctor who struggled silently, desperately against his bonds. He had loosened the cords that confined his wrists, but freedom would not come in time to save Reven.
The Kelblade wants to die.
It was Storchi's voice -- but no! It was her own! The girl trembled at the cusp of that realization. She saw the Doctor's slim fingers busily working, the Rani watching each of Reven's halting steps with impatience held barely in check. And all the while, the thing that had been Thonnor stood motionless, lightless eyes fixed on some distant, unknowable point.
Reven reached the well. Time slowed. Even sound, it seemed, grew deep and stretched. The Rani's command echoed in Elfie's ears. She watched the Kelblade reach down and seize Bloodsinger's hilt, draw the hellblade from its silver scabbard. The Rani's face fell into the glimmering of horrified understanding
More echoes. The Doctor was shouting frantically at Reven. No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!
The young warrior upended the blade. Long arms held it away from his body, resting the wicked tip against his breast. Closing his eyes, he fell forward.
The thief summoned the rags of her strength, sent her will hurling across the pavement, snatching at the blade. Reven roared and tried to hold pull it back. Her surroundings dimmed as she fought for control of the blade. She could feel his terrible determination, fed by Bloodsinger's power. She hadn't the strength for this! Dear gods, she hadn't the strength!
Something snapped inside her head and she lost him. He cried out, caught off balance. In that single, hideous moment, she saw him silhouetted against the chaos of the well. Then he and Bloodsinger were gone.
CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 |