Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (34 page)

“What
about the real Mana?” I asked, already afraid I knew the answer.

“Dead,
of course,” said Magus coldly.  “I couldn’t have her chancing into this world,
screwing up my plans, now could I?”  I felt a hard lump forming in my throat,
anger and grief clouding my thoughts.

“And
you can quit calling me ‘Mana’, idiot,” she said.  “My name is…”

“I
don’t care what your name is!” I interrupted, forcing the words out past the
lump in my throat.  “You betrayed the good people of this world into the hands
of one of the most evil men that has ever lived!  And for what, huh?  What did
he promise you?”

“We’re
going to live forever!” she squeaked with a mix of excitement and hysterical
lunacy.  “We’re going to be gods!”

“You’re
going to be dead in a few minutes,” I spat, “and nobody is ever going to care
what your name was!”  I turned to glare at the sorcerer.  “And you’re next,
Magus!”  At the threat to her lover the fake Mana’s haughty smirk was replaced
by a snarl, and she began to poke and jab with the end of her staff, forcing me
to defend, pushing me away from Magus – and Maya.  Her staff glowed ominously
red, betraying its magical enhancement.

Just
then I heard a shriek, and a kirin swooped in on flaming wings, alighting just
behind my position.  “Justin, what do you need me to do?” 

I
couldn’t take my eyes off Mana’s double long enough to look, but I knew the
voice.  “Corvus!  You’re ok!  And Doog?”

“We’ll
talk about that later,” he said.  Then I saw him vaulting over my head, and
with a powerful downward slash he drove the end of the impostor’s staff into
the ground.  “I’ll take care of this one for you,” he said.  Then he made eye
contact with his foe.  “Wait, isn’t this…”

“No,
it’s not Mana,” I said.  “It just looks like her.  But this one’s with Magus. 
No time to explain, but anything you do to her is too good for her, trust me.” 

“If
you say so,” Corvus said.  He continued to exchange blows with her, and though
she was strong, he was equally strong, and faster.  Much faster.  The battle
quickly turned in his favor. 

“I
thought maybe you’d want a crack at Magus…,” I offered.

“Appreciate
the thought,” he said between slashes, “but I’m not sure I can kill my own
father…even if he is the embodiment of evil.  Anyway, I have a feeling Martyr
is the only one who can finish him off for good.  I’ll lend support in any way
I can.”

Magus
caught a slice of the conversation, and quickly deduced the facts.  “So you’re
the bastard-child I left for dead, eh, Freakshow?” he jeered.   

“Don’t
listen to him!” I said. 

“Cut
up the other half to match, love,” Magus continued, “I hate to leave things
unfinished.  That abomination was never meant to live.”

“Corvus,”
I began, “Don’t let him…”

“Don’t
worry about me,” said Corvus, channeling whatever anger he may have been
feeling into an ever more spirited attack on his opponent, “just see what you can
do about silencing that old fool for good!”

“I
intend to,” I said, and turned my attention back to Maya.

“Justin!”
she yelled.  “Here, maybe you’ll have better luck with this.”  She raised the
dagger over her head to throw it, and just as it left her hand a massive,
bone-white blade sliced through the air and intercepted it, cleaving it in two
amid a shower of sparks.  The huge blade just hovered for several seconds in
the air between Maya and Magus, then the space around it began to shimmer like
rippling water, expanding to occupy an area twice Maya’s height and several
times as wide.  Out of that space, its massive hands clutching a blade formed
from the breastbone of a puurr-deer, stepped the monstrous stone golem I had
seen in Reya’s vision.  It was a hulking colossus of granite, earth, and sinewy
vines, and as it stepped from the shimmering portal and set foot firmly before
me, the material that formed its face peeled away in gravelly layers to expose
the never-decaying face of Tal-Makai, red eyes glowing in lifeless sockets.

“Anyone
else getting a little déjà vu?” Magus taunted, followed by a disgusting
cackle.  The creature advanced toward me, and I took a step back, my first
thought being to lure it as far away from Maya as possible.  Off to the side, I
could hear Corvus continuing to struggle with Mana’s double, but didn’t dare to
take my eyes off this unnatural monstrosity long enough to see how he fared. 
Having drawn it to a safe distance I allowed it to engage me, meeting its blade
with my own.  As I sparred with it, my thoughts wandered.  This thing had
killed Tal-Makai, I knew, the evidence of which it perpetually carried around
within its magically-animated frame.  I had to defeat it, if possible, without
destroying Tal’s body – that much I owed to Reya.  In an effort to suppress my
growing fear I reminded myself that several factors were different this time
around.  First of all, I was theoretically immortal.  That in itself gives no
small amount of comfort in a situation like this.  Furthermore, Tal had been
surrounded.  I thought of the assassins, bowed to the ground like the rest of
Magus’ army.  But was there any guarantee they’d remain that way? 

“Reya!”
I shouted. 

The
answer came from close at hand.  “We’re all right here,” she said.  “Just
waiting for you to tell us how we can help.”  Her voice was shaky,
understandably.  She was being forced to relive the most horrific memory of her
life, and now potentially to watch the undead body of her true love be forced
to kill his double.  It was nothing short of incredible that she was still
standing.

“Reya,”
I said, “It’s going to be ok.  It’s not going to happen again.”

“OK,”
she said, sounding tiny, and not at all convinced.

“All
I need you to do is keep an eye on those soldiers and make sure I don’t get
surrounded.  I’ll do the rest.  If worse comes to worse, I know what I need to
do.”

“And…what
is that?” she asked in a barely audible voice.

“I’m
getting Maya back,” was all I said.

Magus
was already putting the second phase of his plan into effect, wordlessly
commanding his motionless soldiers to rise and converge on the remaining
resistance forces.  As anticipated, there were still assassins among them,
trying to keep a low profile as they edged their way past their comrades and toward
their target – me.  Under Reya’s able command, the best warriors resumed their
task of identifying and eliminating these threats, a job made more difficult by
the new contours and many hidden crevices of the remixed post-comet landscape. 

I
was able to concentrate on the golem.  I parried its attacks with relative
ease, as it was quite slow for all its strength.  But I was afraid to go on the
offensive.  My blade might well be able to dismember the thing, maybe even
decapitate it – but that would damage Tal’s body.  If I were to kill Magus, his
enchantments would likely die with him, but that was the real trick, wasn’t
it?  He was still protected by his spiritual swarm, and I wasn’t really sure
how to take on a vortex of swirling demons.  I took a couple of test swings
with my staff, remembering the effect this had had on Magus’ troops.  It
rattled the stones and some of the other organic parts that composed the
creature.  I slashed harder, and some of the smaller pieces were shaken free,
but they rolled back and rejoined the monster’s mass as quickly as they hit the
ground.  What about my wings, I wondered?  Flight would offer me no advantage,
except as a means to flee if I got in a tight spot.  But could the tendrils
serve another function?  I concentrated, and the strands emerged from my body,
then began to probe around the edges of the golem’s body.  The monster slashed
at them with its blade, but the weapon simply passed through the tendrils
without effect.  Gradually I worked the threads into nearly every nook and
cranny on the beast, all the while parrying its repeated attacks with my
staff.  Now I focused my energy into prying the thing apart.  The threads
exerted a supernatural force that came not from my muscle or bone, and with a
great, prolonged rumbling, the golem flew apart into its respected parts,
leaving only the body of Tal-Makai laid out upon a field strewn with bits of
rubble and debris.

Reya
ran to the body, but almost as soon as she did I saw a movement out of the
corner of my eye and shouted, “Get back!”  The pieces that had formed the golem
were rolling and tumbling, reaching and seeking their unity once more.  One by
one the pieces converged upon the body of Tal-Makai, once again swallowing it
within their roiling mass.  I heard a pained shriek from Reya. 

Magus’
gleeful laughter filled the air as the golem came at me again, relentlessly,
single-mindedly swinging its goliath blade at me.  I parried, and I parried
again.  I dodged, and I side-stepped, and I parried, and when I tired of
defense, I would slash once or twice, rattling its stones against each other,
but for what?  I began to feel tired.  And what would happen when I was
completely exhausted?  What becomes of an immortal if he doesn’t defend?  Would
it cut but not hurt?  Would it miss every time?  Magus could see it too, my
response time slowed, my energy abating.  “What happens now, Martyr?” he
asked.  “You can’t hurt me or defeat my champion.  My champion cannot destroy
you.  You’ve come all this way, and so many have died, yet you are no closer to
your goal.  You might as well just fulfill your destiny…give up…and…die!”

“You
can’t kill me, Magus!  I fight with the power of Chaer-Ul.  I can’t die unless
I choose to!  And I choose to fight!”  The words exuded great confidence, but I
was beginning to wonder how long I could really go on, and what would happen
when my strength was gone.  I fought on, slashing and parrying, dodging the
golem’s blade, slashing again.

To
my left, Corvus was struggling, playing a defensive game against an unexpectedly
adept opponent.  Apparently, what she lacked in speed she more than made up for
in stamina.  I heard Corvus grunting and breathing heavily as the imposter Mana
lashed at him again and again with her glowing staff.  She clearly understood
that it would be game over if he got within sword-striking distance, and had no
intention of letting that happen.  He was managing to deflect her blows,
barely.  It was clear that he was fatigued, his defense crumbling.  She struck
his blade once, then her staff burned red with renewed intensity and she struck
again more forcefully, sending his sword spinning through the air in a burst of
crimson sparks.  Her next slash was a clean cut across his thighs, dropping him
to his knees.  She followed up with an angled slice that opened his chest,
exposing clockwork metal parts. 

“What
the…,” she stammered, not sure what to make of what she was seeing. 

“Corvus!”
I shouted, trying to edge my way to where he had fallen even as I continued to
deflect the golem’s relentless onslaught. 

The
dark Mana’s momentary confusion dissolved into devilish glee as a wicked grin
snaked across her face.  She drew back her spear, and with a mighty thrust
jammed the tip in between the gears in Corvus’ chest.  The metal parts ground
to a halt.  “No!” I screamed, knowing I wouldn’t reach him in time.  Already
the color was draining from his face.  The imposter, triumphant, turned her
head to regard Magus, seeking his approval for her clever win.  As she did, a
tiny, black-feathered dart appeared below her ear.  Her hand immediately shot
to her neck, clawing at it.  As it fell free, a greyish pallor began to spread
from the injection site, the veins on her neck visibly pulsating.  Her eyes
grew wide with horror, and any trace of a smile had vanished.  She turned a
pleading gaze upon her lover and lord, whose face revealed only cool detachment.

Corvus
spat out a little hollow tube, the thing that had delivered the deadly
projectile.  “Sorry ‘Dad’,” he said, “looks like I’ve inconvenienced you again.” 
He smiled, an expression easily mistaken for a snarl as his scar-stretched lip
pulled back, revealing a single canine tooth.  Then a peace came over him, his
features relaxed, and his head dropped gently to his chest.  Meanwhile, the poison
continued to take its toll on Mana’s double, making its way to her hands, her
feet, her heart.  She sank to the ground, lay her head on Corvus’ lap, and
slept.     

Magus
had been watching the scene unfold, and registered no emotion.  Instead he
spoke, slowly, deliberately.  Though he never looked up, I knew it was me he
addressed.  “I cannot kill you,” he said.  “Perhaps this is true.”  He pulled a
knife from his belt and wiped its blade carefully on the cloth at his thigh,
first one side, then the other.  “But I think I can give you a reason to die.” 
And with that he stepped over to Maya, pulled back her head, and slit her
throat.