Rise of the Death Dealer (57 page)

A slight figure emerged from the fog beside the dark beastman, and leaned
lightly against him, supporting itself with a hand on his shoulder.

Brown John knew instantly who it was. The Nymph Queen. Tiyy. Black Veshta’s unholy high priestess. But she was also
something more. He could feel it. Her powers were almost tangible in the air,
and she had obviously made the fog, ordered it to gather at the center of the
Inland Sea and spill out of the sky as if it were an obedient child. Only a
deity could do that, and only a deity of dark intent. Black Veshta. The Dark
Goddess had been made flesh, and the
bukko
stared in shock and wonder at
her.

She was a hoyden, at once both girlishly vital and alluring and as old and
dangerous as time. He had never dreamed that pure evil could be so young and
charming and desirable. It wasn’t fair. Appropriately naked except for a
leopard-skin breechclout and a sheen of golden oil on her supple walnut body,
she carried her new powers with the same ease with which the mighty oak carries
its leaf cover, and the sensual satisfaction on her face was that of the bitch
cat who has mated with the lion.

She looked directly at Cobra and said, “Welcome back to Pyram, you slithering
bitch. I think I’ve wanted you as much as I wanted the girl.” She laughed with
childish mischief and added, “Almost, anyway.”

CENTRE STAGE

B
rown John did not move or speak. He wanted to, but did not know the next
line of dialogue, or if it was his to speak. Two of the principal players in his
plot suddenly seemed totally out of character, and it terrified him. It was a
bukko
’s nightmare come to life.

Gath of Baal, his trusted friend who was the force that gave movement to the
bukko
’s plots, appeared to have left the cast completely. His body was
present, but it looked as if it had been bent from within. There was no trace of
the man he knew in its beastlike stance. It stood beside the Nymph Queen as
obediently as a domesticated pet waiting to bark or kill on her command.

The nymph herself, of course, was a total surprise. Goddesses were supposed
to be regal, and formal, and robed in heavy velvets. But this one was housed in
the body of a coltish savage, and there was enough delicious mischief behind her
bright eyes to make sin look like the only endeavor worthy of life’s trials and
tribulations. If anyone doubted this, her brazen nudity would end the argument
before it started, and unbuckle your belt as well.

She leaned casually against Gath, her fingers toying with his shoulder as she
put two fingers inside her mouth and whistled shrilly like a child calling her
pet dog.

Worm soldiers promptly slithered from the shadowed holes pockmarking the
black dusty walls. They wore spare leather armor, and their umber flesh was
spongy and coated with slime. Dark holes served them as ears and wrinkles as
features. Several had short, curved steel blades growing from their wrists
instead of hands, while others leveled crossbows at the intruders.

Brown John and Jakar moved side by side, their bodies shielding Cobra and
Robin, but all four flinched with horror.

Here and there along the wall facing them the dark earth crumbled apart as
something behind them pushed at it. The earth fell away and the heads of huge
worms emerged. As round and thick as rain barrels. Slick with slime and coated
with dirt. Kival carnivore worms, long believed extinct. Their heads wriggled
free, and their scarlet necks spread like hoods below jawless mouths lined with
blunt, hard gums.

Schraak laughed behind the barred door blocking the tunnel to the tide pool,
and Tiyy sat against Gath’s knee, chuckling as she watched her victims wince
with fear.

“Come now,” she said easily, “what did you expect? That you could walk right
into my castle and steal what you like without so much as a struggle?” She
chuckled and added, “You’re not that foolish, are you?”

Having no answer that seemed appropriate, Brown John turned to reassure the
women and found Robin staring at him. Her big eyes were as empty as slate
waiting to be written on, as if she, too, were out of character, eager to play
whatever role he asked her to play, but with no idea what it was.

He said, “Stay behind us,” as if he knew what he was talking about, and
glanced uncertainly at Cobra.

She was slumped back against the wall, staring vacantly at Gath. Whipped.
Broken. The
bukko
grimaced. Jakar was the only one in character. He
seemed to have not only endured the rigors of the quest but grown stronger from
them, and in precisely the manner the plot now called for. His smile was right
where it always was, but it was suddenly far more resilient.

He winked at the
bukko.
“Why is it that I have the feeling this is not
the kind of finish you had in mind?”

Taking courage from the young man’s humor, Brown John smiled brazenly at the
creatures threatening them. “Not exactly a comedy, is it?”

“Fine by me,” Jakar replied easily. “I’m partial to tragedies.”

Brown John chuckled, and Tiyy laughed with delight. “By Bled, you did think
you could get away with it, didn’t you?” She came down the steps halfway with a
bouncy stride and sat down, straddling the corner of a step. She leaned forward,
arms thrust down between her parted legs for support, and cocked her head like a
snappish tart, studying them. Her large sloping eyes carried that confidence
only given to women who are certain they will be the most beautiful creature in
every room they enter.

The intruders shifted warily as if moved about by the sheer force of her
glance, and Tiyy laughed again, loving their torment.

Hating it, Brown John said, “Don’t laugh, wench! We’re not going to give up
without a fight.” But the words were spoken by rote, without emotion or
conviction.

Tiyy ignored him and put her eyes on Cobra.

“You’ve put on weight. Oddly enough, it becomes you. But your hair is a
fright.”

Cobra instinctively put a hand to her tangled, burnt hair and looked at the
nymph, momentarily angered. Then the serpent woman’s arm dropped and her eyes
became wet and thin, hiding none of the bitterness, defeat and misery she felt.
Her mystery now seemed to be nothing but a tattered shroud, and it hid no more
than her ragged tunic hid, making her look old, bitter and mean.

“Ahhhh!” Tiyy said with a ring of delight. “Your age has caught up with you,
hasn’t it? As well as your reckless greed.” She grinned and looked at the
bukko
as if he were an adorable stray dog, asking, “Now, who might you be?”

“I am Brown John,” he said proudly, “the bukko master of the
Grillards, and…”

“So you’re the bukko,” Tiyy interrupted. “Well now, that’s a welcome
surprise. Look!” She arched her back, displaying her high, hard breasts,
extended her legs with toes pointed and lifted her arms, twisting slightly so
she could be seen from all sides. “This is your work, old man.” She relaxed,
leaning forward again, her voice intense with anticipation. “Your Grillard
dancing girls were perfectly suited to my unnatural appetite, so I welcome you.
A man with an eye like yours will be an invaluable addition to my staff.”

Brown John was staggered, and the others could only stare in horror.

Tiyy tucked her legs up under her and leaned forward with her elbows on her
knees. “Now, let’s have a look at you, girl. Let’s see if all the fuss has been
worth it.”

Robin trembled against Jakar’s back, and he whispered, “Go ahead, stand up to
her. I think she’s afraid of you.”

Robin nodded uncertainly and came around Jakar, head high.

Tiyy’s eyes thinned, and she uncoiled, slowly crawling down three more steps,
as unconscious of her movements as a curious cat. She studied Robin, her head
cocking from side to side, as if wary of what she saw.

“You are worth the fuss,” she said flatly. “There’s no doubt of that.” She
smiled warmly, like an old chum. “I thought it would irritate me to have to look
at you, knowing that I had to rely on your Kaa… on your magic… to make
mine fertile. But you’re a delight. In fact, it excites me, knowing our bloods
are joined. You’re a rare piece of work, even in rags.” Robin unconsciously ran
a hand through her hair. It had grown on the trip, and the sea water had washed
out most of the dye, so that the torchlight graced her amber waves with golds
and oranges.

“Why do you wear clothes, anyway?” Tiyy asked fretfully. “If you had any
sense you’d go naked, like you were born to go. Putting on clothes is for fools.
A stupid law made by stupid men.”

“It’s a good law,” Robin said petulantly. “Besides, it’s cold in the forest.”

Tiyy laughed easily, then her eyes widened with sudden recognition, and she
said, “You don’t know, do you? You haven’t the slightest idea of why Cobra
brought you here? To Pyram?”

“It wasn’t her idea,” Robin said firmly. “It was mine. I offered to come, to
help Gath with the helmet.”

“Of course,” Tiyy said, and put her eyes on Cobra. “You would have had no
trouble making her believe that.” She looked at the others. “But I’ll wager the
girl provided little help with the helmet, perhaps none at all. Am I right?”
They shifted nervously, and she laughed. “I am right, aren’t I? And that can
mean only one thing… none of you knew what the slithering bitch was up to.”

“We knew enough,” Brown John said importantly. Tiyy grunted. “You didn’t know
anything, and you still don’t.” She leaned toward Robin, and her smile faded.
“Cobra’s used you, girl. And you’re all going to suffer for being fools enough
to allow her to do it.” Robin backed up into Jakar’s arms, but the Nymph Queen’s
eyes and voice followed her.

“Only yesterday, I could not have seen if there was anything more to you than
a strong spirit. But now,” she nodded with the back of her head at Gath, “with
his dark seed planted in me, with the powers of the Dark Goddess housed in my
body, I can see everything that hides inside you.”

Gasping, Cobra backed against the wall and came to a shuddering stop.

Tiyy took no notice. She held Robin with her hypnotic eyes. They were now
laden with the wisdom of a thousand years. Theaters to the underworld.

“What hides inside you does not only make dreams that tame the helmet,” she
said in a purring monotone, “but dreams for everyone with eyes to see them.
Dangerous dreams so grand and noble and pure that they demand imitation…
and there is no greater threat to my master than that.”

Feeling a rush of excitement in his stomach, Brown John glanced expectantly
at Robin out of the corner of his eye. But she looked just as she had throughout
their journey, worn and frightened and adorned with rags and trail dust. He saw
no dreams. Frowning irritably, he looked back at Tiyy.

She now squatted on a step, and was grinning directly at him. “Disappointed,
aren’t you, bukko?” She chuckled. “Sometimes a primitive gift of sight like
yours can see it, or at least suspect it. But you obviously don’t. But Cobra saw
it and intended to use it.” She turned to Cobra. “You see, in order to regain
the trust of our master and regain her powers, she had to find some way to
control the horned helmet. And the sacred jewels of the Goddess of Light could
provide that way. But in order to steal them, she needed the girl.” Her smile
turned on Robin, malevolent and toying. “Because only a female whose Kaa is pure
and strong, who truly seeks the jewels not for herself, but for someone else,
can hold them in her hands without being burnt to a cinder. And you, girl, have
such a Kaa, and Cobra knew it. Your hands could pick up the jewels and steal
them.” She chuckled mockingly. “At least Cobra believed they could.”

“Come now,” said Brown John, “you don’t expect us to believe a fairy tale
like that?”

“Fairy tale!” Tiyy said, rising like a spitfire. “You call it a fairy tale,
when for years it was only these hands,” she lifted her hands with fingers
spread, “that could control the glimmer of their beauty? Hah! I suppose you
thought that a shiftless, lecherous, money-hungry old clown like yourself could
steal them?”

Brown John scowled, his best scowl, but no sharp reply came to mind. The best
he could do was shift his weight and stand one foot closer to the impertinent
young bitch.

Tiyy laughed at him. “You trusted Cobra, didn’t you, you old bouse bag? And
all the time she was plotting to kill the lot of you.”

“That’s not true,” blurted the
bukko.

“Be quiet, Brown,” Cobra muttered sharply. “In a way, she’s right.”

Her voice was a bitter hiss, and Brown John stared open-mouthed. Was the hiss
some vague instinctive behavior left over from years of demonic living, or was
the serpent still there? He had no idea, and aching pain welled inside his
chest.

Cobra turned her bitter eyes on Tiyy. “Are you finished playing now?”

“Not quite,” Tiyy said impishly. “Since your skill and cunning have brought
you this far, I think you deserve a reward before you die… so I’m going to
let you look at them.”

“The jewels?” gasped Cobra.

“Yes,” Tiyy said temptingly, “the jewels.”

Cobra straightened slightly. “You don’t dare,” she said, a blush of hope
passing behind her grey-gold eyes.

“On the contrary,” Tiyy said with wicked anticipation. “I would not miss this
for the world.”

THE JEWELS

T
he nymph looked down at Schraak and nodded. He pulled his slick, grinning
face away from the barred door, and scurried back into the shadows of the
entrance tunnel out of sight.

Brown John, Cobra, Robin and Jakar looked about uncertainly, not knowing what
to expect or where it might come from. The sounds of clanking chains came from
the barred passageway, then the grating sounds of metal tearing against metal,
and behind them four of the blocks of obsidian began to settle into the ground.

They turned sharply and backed away, watching the slow, grudging descent.
Then Cobra, her breath suddenly heaving with heedless excitement, edged toward
the opening being made by the massive blocks. The others moved up beside her.

Behind the opening, a timber door joined together by steel bars was coming
into view. Dust filled the cracks between the timbers and the doorframe, and the
door was set behind it on runners, a sliding door.

The descending blocks of obsidian came to a stop with a crunching jar, and
dust fell away from the ceiling, landing on faces and shoulders. They blinked,
rubbing the dust away from their eyes, and stared warily at the door.

Here and there, through tiny cracks between the heavy beams, bits of
brilliant white light streaked through, reaching across the full depth of the
cave.

The group drew away from them, mystified.

“Open it, Cobra!” Tiyy shouted lightly. “You’ve wanted to do this all your
life! Don’t be a coward now!”

Brown John, Cobra, Robin and Jakar looked back sharply, their eyes
suspicious.

Tiyy stood with legs apart and fists on hips, her hoyden smile moving on her
firm cheeks. A thin beam of white light was streaking past her, playing on the
wall behind the staircase. She lifted a hand, caught the beam with the palm and
moved it in a slow circle, controlling the white light and making the beam swirl
and dance.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said. “You can even play with it.”

Brown John glanced warily at a beam of light striking the ground beside him,
and covertly slid his hand into the beam. It stung him, and he jumped away,
yelping.

Tiyy laughed, and spread her arms. “I’ll help you,” she said, “so it won’t
hurt.”

She rose up onto her toes, arching and thrusting, and beams of black light
emerged slowly and languorously from the palms of her hands. They edged across
the room, then came apart in flurries of smoky mist, drifting to the closed door
and settling there, slightly darkening the brilliant bits of white light.

Cobra, heaving with anticipation, moved to the door, took hold of the door
handle, tried to pull it. It didn’t budge. Brown John and Jakar joined her, and
together they pulled. The door surrendered a squeaking noise, grated, then slid
open and white light spilled out.

They ducked away from the glare, covering their eyes with their arms, and the
light billowed into the black cave, mixing with the shady mist to fill it with a
bright glow. The astounded group peered over and under arms, watching the light
swirl on itself inside the dungeon cell. It seemed to have body, life.

The savage nymph squatted between Gath’s legs, laughing easily with her arms
wrapped around his thighs. “Go ahead!” she shouted. “Go inside, the jewels won’t
hurt you now.”

The foursome shared a wary glance, then Cobra hurried into the cell and the
others followed. Inside the door, they suddenly stopped short, shielding their
eyes with their hands.

A pillar of white light stood at the center of the small cell. It rose from a
black pedestal to the middle of a black stone ceiling, supporting it. At the
very center of the ceiling, white light illuminated the mouth of a narrow shaft,
no bigger round than a walnut. The light billowed in it as if it were plugged
somewhere above. In each corner, thick square columns of black stone also
supported the ceiling. The superstructure on which Pyram’s main tower rested.
The column of light was obviously the primary support. It shimmered with living
power, constantly changing its faceted shape and proportions, and a nimbus of
white light billowed and radiated from its transparent body. The sacred jewels
were not jewels at all, but a single jewel, a whiteness without flaw or
corruption which was at once both form and formless.

Cobra shrieked at the daunting vision and turned away, collapsing on the
ground.

Recklessly, Brown John advanced on the massive jewel, his hands moving
restlessly in front of him. Every sense wanted to hold the light, and caress and
fondle it. But even if his heart was as pure and true as Robin’s, his hands
could not have. And neither could any female hands, no matter how pure.

The jewel was impossible to hold. It had no more substance than an illusion.

Suddenly Brown John backed away.

The pillar seemed to be fading. Then the room filled with whiteness blotting
out all vision, and the glare blinded him. He staggered back, brushing someone,
but he could not see who it was, and reached the door. There Jakar stood with
his back to the light, blinking and trying to regain his vision. Cobra was
slumped beside him, wearing an expression that said she no longer had the will
to stand upright. Shielding his eyes, Brown John heard Tiyy laugh, and there
seemed to be no malice in it, only childish delight. Then fog came tumbling down
from the place where he had last seen her, and mixed with the light, reducing it
to a bright glare. He rubbed his eyes, blinking. When he could see again, he
turned back toward the jewel.

Robin had not come out of the chamber. She still stood facing the pillar of
light, spellbound and trembling, her arms floating at her sides. Her head was
raised to the pillar, and white light shot through her red curls, turning the
tips orange and vermilion and russet. Suddenly the light slowed down, spilled
like thick white syrup over her head, and clung to curl and wave, as if the hair
were wearing it, as if the light were indeed jewelry.

Brown John and Jakar shared an astounded glance, and the
bukko
nudged
Cobra with his toe. She pulled her leg away, not bothering to complain or look
up, and he nudged her again. Her head lifted slowly, and as she turned to the
light, she gasped.

Tiny beams of light had formed at the center of the pillar, as if the nimbus
suddenly had lingers. They probed the air just beyond the form. Suddenly one,
two, then a third and fourth shot forth from the pillar and played across
Robin’s face. Were they hunting something?

Tiyy rose abruptly in front of Gath, eyes aghast.

Cobra rolled to her feet and staggered into the chamber. Brown John and Jakar
promptly joined her, and they all stared in a numb stupor.

The tiny beams had gathered on Robin’s plump lower lip and gently bounced up
and down, caressing it. Then they stopped and held on to the plump flesh. Slowly
the lip grew bright red, then pink, then white as the light entered the flesh,
seeping into her face until it glowed from within with pink light.

Cobra, dizzy with excitement, staggered, and the
bukko
and Jakar had
to hold her up.

Muttering angrily, Tiyy bounded down the stairs until she could see clearly
into the chamber, and came to an abrupt stop at the bottom. Her snarl said she
did not like what she saw.

Flurries of tiny beams were cascading from the crystalline pillar and playing
across Robin’s body, searching bare shoulders, the swell of a breast, a jagged
hole in her tunic at her thigh.

Tiyy turned sharply to the worm soldiers holding the crossbows and shrieked,
“Finish her! Finish her!”

The crossbowmen raised their pieces, taking aim.

Neither Brown John nor Jakar heard the nymph clearly, but Cobra did. She
flung herself heedlessly toward Robin, covering the girl’s body with her own,
and three steel bolts took her with the loud whap of metal burying itself in
meat. One caught her above the heart, entering under the shoulderbone, and the
others in hip and thigh.

A fourth bolt missed the target area, hit the pillar with a flash of
lightning and ricocheted around the chamber, dropping beside Brown John. Its
metal was red-hot and twisted like string. He winced and with Jakar at his side,
positioned himself to protect the two women, weapons in hand.

Cobra was half bent, her hands clutching the bolt above her breast as blood
spilled between her fingers. Robin stood behind her, supporting her and looking
about in confusion. “What’s happened?” she gasped, her voice sounding far off,
vague.

“Stay behind me,” Cobra said with a harsh whisper, and forced herself erect,
shielding the girl. “Stay where you are! Don’t move!”

Robin nodded, then groaned with sudden terror.

Gath’s body was coming down the stairs in clumsy loping strides. He carried
no weapons, but his hands dangled at his sides more dangerously than his axe
ever had. Tiyy moved beside him, her small hands clutching an elbow as if it
were a leash, shouting, “Kill her! Quickly! Kill her!”

She unleashed him and stood watching as his body advanced, filling the
doorway to the chamber. Brown John lifted his sword, and Jakar fired.

The steel bolt tore through the Death Dealer’s side, but he took no notice
and kept coming. The eye slits of the horned helmet spewed flames, driving the
white light aside and making it smoke and fade.

Jakar reloaded hurriedly and Brown John thrust with his sword. Gath ignored
the bite of the blade on his thigh and jumped forward between them. His thick
arms swung sideways, knocking Jakar to one side and the
bukko
to the
other.

Jakar hit the stone wall with the back of his head and sagged forward, dazed.
Brown John landed on his back, with the air driven from his lungs.

Cobra, shielding Robin with her body, screamed at the massive, beastlike man
hovering over her, “No, Gath! No!”

Robin, hiding behind Cobra’s shoulder, pleaded, “It’s me, Gath! It’s me.
Robin. Don’t… don’t!” Gath’s body did not listen. Its thick arm swept
toward Cobra, bludgeoning her with the back of its hand. She flew sideways,
colliding with a black pillar and crumpling at its base. She tried to rise, but
sank to the floor instead, and began to bleed on the ground.

Dizzy and blinking, Brown John rose to his feet and staggered toward the
beast’s back, but fell a good eight feet short of his target. It was two feet
further than the still dazed Jakar got.

Gath hovered darkly in front of Robin. She was reduced to whimpering now,
unable to move. His flames singed her rags and flesh, and she cringed with pain,
moaning. It seemed to encourage him. His hands yanked her around, violently
ripping away what remained of her tunic, and she screamed. He drove the butt of
his hand into her back, and she dropped forward,, facing the pillar of white
light. Naked. Moaning. Protected by no more than the flurry of tiny beams of
light as they still searched her body.

He straddled her, bending over with his massive hands closing about her frail
neck, and the helmet’s flames lashed her bare flesh and hair, his own fingers.
The pain made him howl, but he held on, squeezing, and her body convulsed
against his hands like a fish on the end of a spear, then surrendered and fell
limp.

The brute’s hands continued the pressure, relentless, abandoned to the kill.
Suddenly he dropped her and staggered back, staring.

The tiny beams of light were scurrying together on her back. Her torso heaved
with breath, and she rolled over. The beams followed her, dashing-wildly about
breasts and belly, and came to abrupt stops, each pulsing and expanding in size
and brilliance as it fixed its beacon on one of the signs or numerals of the map
Cobra had drawn on her flesh.

The white light had found what it hunted.