The Destroyer of Worlds (18 page)

Ally squinted at him. “William Jones, I presume?” Jones nodded. “You were his slave, I think. Choose well how you will use your freedom.”

The old man sank to his knees and began to sob. 

“Lithon! Are you okay?”

Lithon hurried over, rubbing his temple. “Yeah, I think so. It bruised a bit.”

Arran reached down and helped Allard up. Allard spat blood from his bruised lips. “Ah…sorry.”

Allard grinned. “I’m just glad you didn’t kill me.”

Ally winced and put a hand over her stomach.

“Ally. Are you injured?” said Arran, looking at the bullet holes in her coat. The sight of her in pain distressed him more than he could say. 

“I can go on,” said Ally. “We must stop Marugon. Hurry.” She ran across the warehouse floor, moving with a slight limp. They climbed up the stairs, the metal grill clanking. “Arran. Do you remember the way to the Chamber of the Great Seal?” Ally stared at the door, eyebrows creased in a small frown.

Arran nodded. “I do. Though it was filled with great perils. What it is like now, I do not wish to imagine.”

“Nor I.” Ally lifted her hand, still staring at the door. “Something’s amiss, though I can’t say what. I’ll go first.” She stepped through the door and into the Tower. 

The the air grwe cold, and a shadow fell over the door. 

It began to grind shut with terrifying speed. 

Ally spun, light flaring around her fingers. The door stopped, still open halfway. Ally thrust out a hand, and the door trembled with a deep grinding sound, its runes flashing with wild green light.

“What is it?” said Arran. 

“The door!” gasped Ally, raising her hands, “Marugon put a spell over the door, it’s going to shut, I can’t keep it open! Get through! Now!”

“Move!” Arran grabbed Lithon by the shoulder and propelled him through the door, Conmager, Mary, and Allard a half-step behind him. He leaped into the Tower’s gallery, white light flashing over his vision. He turned, reaching out for Conmager…

Ally groaned, and the door slammed shut with a crash. She flew backwards and slid across the gleaming stone floor.

###

The door crashed shut, blocking Ally and Arran and Lithon from sight. 

“Ally!” shrieked Mary, running forward. The door’s runes flickered and went dark. Conmager lifted his cane and focused his magical senses on the door. 

“Open it!” said Mary. “Conmager, open it. We can’t leave them in there alone.”

Conmager sighed and lowered his cane. “I cannot.”

Mary growled. “What the hell do you mean you can’t?”

“A spell of the black magic has been laid over the door. Marugon’s work, I think. The spell sealed the door when someone stepped through it and into the Tower. It’s a wonder Ally kept the door open as long as she did.”

“Can’t you break the spell?” said Mary.

Conmager shook his head. “Mary. I’m sorry. I have not the power.” A curious sense of peace settled over Conmager. He had guarded Ally and Lithon for so long. Now they were beyond his reach. And, in truth, they no longer needed him to guard them. Ally possessed many times Conmager’s power, and Lithon would grow to become a wise king.

If they survived the next few hours. 

But Conmager had done what he could. 

“We have to help them,” said Mary, kicking at the door. “We can’t just leave them in there, alone, to fight Marugon…”

“Mary,” said Conmager, “we have no other choice. That spell will not wear off for at least a day, and I have not the power to remove it. The other doors to the Tower are sealed. The only one we can reach in time is in Cicero, and it would take me hours to open it. By then, it will be too late for our help to make any difference, one way or another.”

“But,” said Mary, “but we have to help them!”

“We have,” said Conmager. “As much as we are able.” He blinked. “It was my task to guard them, I think, until they were ready. And now they are ready. Do you really think we could aid Ally in a battle against Marugon? We would prove more of a hindrance, I fear. No, the issue is beyond our reach. We have done what we can. Now it us up to Ally and Lithon and Sir Arran. It is in their hands, one way or another.”

Mary spat a curse, but fell silent. Allard looked around, rubbed his bleeding jaw, and coughed. 

“So, um…then,” he said. “What do we do now?” 

Conmager smiled. “You don’t know? We stand in the stronghold of our enemies, surrounded by tons of bombs, and you don’t know what to do next?”

Mary gaped at him. Allard looked over the endless stacks of crates, swore, and looked back at Conmager. “You’re nuts, Regent. You’re absolutely goddamn nuts.”

Conmager smiled. “I know.”

###

Wycliffe crawled along the cold ground, gasping in pain. Every movement sent bolts of agony tearing through his ruined shoulders. He had fouled himself, his trousers slapping hot and mushy against his leg. 

His mind felt like ashes and ruin, broken beyond repair. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t reach the black magic through the ruin of his thoughts. He sobbed, crawling along, trying to find his way out. He had to get help. That one thought played through his mind, over and over again. 

He pawed for his smartphone, arms throbbing. His fingers felt like wedges of putty. The phone fumbled and slid in his hand. Not that it mattered, since he couldn’t see the touchscreen or anything else. He shrieked in frustration and flung the phone away. 

A footstep tapped against the ground.

Wycliffe flipped onto his back, trying to crawl away. Lances of pain stabbed through his arms. “Wuh?” he said, lips flapping. His face and tongue felt like quivering jelly. He couldn’t shape words. “Who?” he managed. 

“Thomas,” said a soft voice.

That voice tugged memories deep in his crushed mind. “William?” he croaked. “William. Help me, please help me…”

The gunshot rang like thunder, and something slammed into Wycliffe’s chest. He wailed as more shots stabbed into him with quick succession. The last plunged into his head, slamming it against the concrete floor, and the darkness before his sightless eyes deepened. 

###

William Jones, President Elect of the United States of America, dropped the smoking gun and watched Wycliffe’s brains ooze across the floor. 

Jones stared at his tormentor’s corpse for a long time. Something deep inside him snapped, and he began to laugh. He laughed for a long time, hysterics racking his body. 

He kicked the gun aside, stepped into the sunlight, and ran as fast as he could.

###

A tremendous explosion ripped apart warehouse 13A a moment later. The roof disintegrated in a towering pillar of flame, and cinder blocks and twisted steel girders rained in all directions. The ground shook as a tower of inky black smoke rose high into the winter sky. 

When the police and the firefighters arrived, they could not make sense of the explosion, nor the strange obsidian bones, nor of the hundreds of naked, cold, and very confused people, young and old, men and women alike, wandering the compound. 

Nor did they notice three dark figures slip out of the compound, climb into a van, and drive away. 

Chapter 13 - The Caretaker's Charge

Between the Worlds

“Ally!”

Ally groaned and managed to sit up. Green light gleamed against the floor and distant ceiling of the Tower's gallery. Her body ached from the backlash of Marugon’s spell. She heard boots pounding against the marble floor as Arran and Lithon ran to her side. They took her arms and helped her to her feet. 

“You’re injured,” said Arran. 

Ally shook her head. “No, no.” She brushed them away. “I’m fine. At least as well as I can be, under the circumstances.” 

“What happened?” said Lithon. 

Ally stared at the sealed door. Marugon’s sigil of burning eye clutched in a clawed hand stared back at her. With a shock she realized it was not a burning eye. It never had been a burning eye.

It was a burning world. 

“Ally?” said Arran. 

She shook her attention from the sigil. “Marugon left a trap for us. A spell to seal the door after someone stepped through.” She scowled. “No doubt he thought I would send someone else through first.”

“Can you open it?” said Arran. “We will need the aid of the others.”

She squinted at the door, seeing the web of dark power Marugon had laid over it. “No. I cannot break the spell. He anchored it to the runes upon the door, to the magic of the Tower itself. The spell will fade in time, but not soon enough to help us. No, we must go on. We can return this way later. If we survive.” She leaned up and kissed Arran on the cheek, stubble brushing against her lips. “Thank you for saving Lithon.”

Arran gave her one of his rare smiles. “Thank Conmager for his Kevlar.” 

“I’m just glad I’m not dead,” said Lithon.

Ally laughed. “As am I. Arran, show us the way.”

Arran nodded and drew his Sacred Blades. “Follow me.”

###

Black holes seemed to pockmark every inch of wall and ceiling. Gaping holes stretched across the floor, with only narrow paths of stone left between them. A cold wind blew down the corridor, tugging at Arran’s cloak and clothes. He picked his way over the rubble, every muscle tense. He could almost feel the children of the void watching him through the holes. Any moment they would boil out, swarming him as they had done to Sir Liam…

“Where do those holes go?” said Lithon, kicking aside a chunk of rubble. It slipped into a hole and vanished.

“They are breaches in the spells that bind the Tower,” said Ally. “Holes into the endless void between the worlds.” She pointed. “That stone you dropped? It will float for ten million times ten million years before it even comes within sight of a world.” 

Arran glanced at the nothingness behind the walls, shivered, and kept going. 

“What are those pictures on the walls?” said Lithon.

“Bas-reliefs,” said Ally. “I don’t know what they show. They may be depictions of the war that bound the children of the void. Or someone else may have put them there; the Tower is very old, and many other races have trod its halls. Some have even built cities within the Tower.”

Arran grunted. “I’ve never seen them.”

“The Tower is infinite,” said Ally. “If you did not know the way, you could wander for ten thousand years and never find them.”

“Did you hear something?” said Lithon. 

Arran looked at him, then at the ruined walls. “No. Nothing.”

Ally frowned. “I thought I did.”

Lithon shrugged. “It sounded like…well, never mind. It sounded familiar, that’s all.”

“Keep listening.” Arran started forward. In places the damaged floor seemed suspended over the void, held in place by nothingness. He hoped the pitted stone would not crumble beneath his weight. 

His hands tightened around the hilts of his Sacred Blades, his eyes watching the swords for any signs of light. 

And his ears strained for any trace of a whisper. 

It had happened that way before. He had first heard the distant voice, and then the voice started calling his name. Then he had rounded a corner, and there stood the child of the void masquerading as Siduri, beckoning him to the void…

“Wait,” said Lithon, frowning. 

“We don’t have time to wait,” said Ally.

“I heard someone say my name,” said Lithon. He looked sad. “It sounded familiar, I think. Like someone I knew.” 

Arran waved his sword, trying to quell his growing alarm. “It’s a deception from the children of the void. That is how it began, how they tried to trick me. First they call your name. Then they take the form of someone dead. Someone who had a hold over you. Queen Annemarie for Sir Liam, Siduri for me. After that, they try to trick you into stepping through the holes.” He shook his head. “It is deception. Do not listen.”

“Okay,” said Lithon. “But…it just sounds so familiar.”

They rounded a corner. The corridor ahead lay undamaged, its walls and ceiling gleaming in the green glow, save for one large hole in the floor. A dark-haired woman stood near the hole, her green eyes glinting. Arran froze, his Sacred Blades moving to a guard position. For a terrible moment he though the woman was Siduri. But this woman wore jeans and a T-shirt, with a paler face than Siduri’s. 

“Who are you?” said Arran, even though he knew.

“Mom?” whispered Lithon, his face sagging with disbelief and joy. “Mom?”

Katrina Wester smiled. “Yes, yes, it’s me, honey. Run to me now, run to me, quickly!” 

Lithon started to bolt forward. 

“No!” Arran grabbed his shoulder. 

Lithon scowled at him. “What are you doing? Let me go!” 

“No!” growled Arran. “That black spirit is not your mother. It is a deception Do not!” 

“Lithon,” said the woman, her voice heavy with sadness. “I’ve missed you so much. I don’t know what happened. You…you were gone, the house was on fire, and I couldn’t find you or Ally. Dad and I were worried to death.”

“You are not his mother,” said Arran, Lithon struggling against his grip. Arran rammed one of his Sacred Blades into its scabbard, reached down, and pinned Lithon’s arms in place. “Go back to the black nothingness.”

“You are right, whoever you are,” said the woman. “Lithon is not my son, not by blood, at least. But I raised him. I may not be his mother, but he is my son. He is mine. Let him come to me. Please. He’ll be happier.”

“Let me go!” said Lithon, tears streaming down his face. “Let me go, let me go, let me go!”

“I will not,” said Arran, tightening his grip. “That fiend is not your mother. I know their black trickery. Tell him, Ally. Ally? Ally!”

Ally stood transfixed, staring at her mother as if hypnotized. 

She took a step forward. 

“No!” Arran pinned the struggling Lithon around the waist and stepped before Ally. “Listen to me! That is not your mother.”

“Ally!” wailed the voidspawn masquerading as Katrina Wester, her voice lost. “Where have you been? What happened?”

Ally’s eyes narrowed, and she drew herself. For a moment she looked very much like Alastarius, her face grim and terrible. “I know what you are.”

The woman fell silent. 

“It’s Mom, Ally,” said Lithon. “It’s Mom! Can’t you see that?”

“I can see clearly,” said Ally.

“Give me the boy,” said the woman, her tone chilling. “He is mine. Give him to me, and I shall let you pass through the Tower, to whatever world you wish.”

Lithon stopped struggling. Arran let him go and drew Luthar’s Sacred Blade. 

“No,” said Ally. “Go back to the black voids now, while you still can.”

The woman laughed, eyes bulging with glee. “The boy shall be ours anyway, as shall you and the Knight who escaped us once before. The Tower will be thrown down. You cannot stop the Marr’Ugaoun. Lie down and die while you still can.” Arran’s Sacred Blades jolted, glimmering with azure and white flames. 

“If that were true,” said Ally, “then you would not be trying to stop us, would you?”

The woman shrieked, claws of shadow bursting from her fingers, her eyes becoming pits into a bottomless void. Wings of shadow rose around her, and the creature flung itself at Ally. 

Arran was faster, his Sacred Blades moving in a burning blur. His swords ripped through the creature, and the child of the void wailed and vanished into a scattering of black smoke. A cold wind blew through the passageway, and a chorus of enraged whispers drifted from the walls.

Dozens of the children of the void boiled out of rifts that opened in the walls and floors. They burst from the holes in the ceiling, swarming in a tide of shadows and echoing whispers. A section of floor in the corridor ahead crumbled, and more creatures swarmed out, moving in a dark wave.

“Run!” said Arran. “Run! We must…”

Ally stepped past him, her teeth bared in a snarl. “No.”

She shouted a word and clapped her hands, and cold white flames erupted from the floor around her. The children of the void lunged for them, claws reaching. Arran yelled and raised his blades in parry.

Ally snarled and spread her hands. White fire blasted out from her palms and lanced into the children of the void. A chorus of whispered shrieks echoed off the ceiling. The fire blasted through their ranks like an avalanche of light, and clouds of black smoke billowed up.

“Profane my mother’s image?” said Ally. “Then perish, all of you. Perish!” The white fire blazed brighter and then winked out. Only a few of the children of the void remained, fleeing into the holes and down the corridors. 

Silence returned to the Tower of Endless World.

Ally closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath.

“That was astonishing,” said Arran. “You destroyed them with such ease.”

Ally snorted. “That was hardly easy. And it matters not. I could destroy a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand. Countless billions more are waiting to take their place.”

“They will return,” said Arran. 

Ally shook her head. “They will not, unless Marugon calls them. Why face annihilation at my hands, when they need only wait for the Tower to fall?”

“I’m sorry,” said Lithon, looking at the cracked floor. “I almost got us all killed.” He sniffled. “It’s just…she…it looked just like Mom.”

“There is no reason for guilt,” said Arran. “It is a cruel deception.”

“And I, too, thought it was Mom,” said Ally. “Only for a second, since the white magic let me see past the illusion. But…I had dreamed of seeing her or Dad one last time…” She shook her head. “No. We can speak of this later. We must keep going.”

They hurried on through the corridors of the Tower. 

###

Ally kept jogging, Arran and Lithon besides her. She had been running for hours, or days, or weeks. She could not have said. Time meant very nothing in the Tower of Endless Worlds. And because of that, she did not grow tired, nor did her muscles ache from the exertion. The vast vaulted corridor stretched ever on before her, an unreachable green glow shining deep its depths. Endless bas-reliefs rolled past, scenes of distant and alien worlds. Pillars the size of small skyscrapers stood like silent stone giants. 

“We aren’t going to catch him, are we?” said Lithon. 

“We may yet,” said Ally. “He was only a few moments ahead of us.”

“And how long does it take to set off a nuclear device?” Arran’s scabbards tapped against his legs with every running step. 

“I do not know,” said Ally. “Not long.”

“Wycliffe may have been lying,” said Arran.

“He wasn’t,” said Ally, amazed at how her heartbeat remained slow and steady. “He was filled with deception. But he dared not lie to me.” 

But she could not shake her growing fear. Even with only a few minutes, Marugon could have gained a long lead. And suppose he knew a shorter path to the Chamber of the Great Seal? He might even stand atop the Great Seal even now, the destruction of all the mortal worlds in his hands. 

“We shall catch him,” said Ally. 

Gray mist swirled before them.

Ally skidded to a halt, her hand coming up in the beginnings of a spell. The gray mist thickened, a shape growing. It resolved into an enormous skeleton draped in ragged gray robes, green light glimmering in its empty eyes. Ally stared at the figure, probing it with her magical senses. It seemed a manifestation of the magical power that bound the Tower…

“No.” Arran took her arm. “It’s…it’s not a friend, not exactly, but it will not hurt us, unless we give it cause.” 

“Arran Belphon.” The robed form’s whispery voice echoed through Ally’s skull. “Lithon Scepteris.” Even as she watched it seemed to flow between the forms of gray mist, a robed shape, and a giant skeleton. “And you who are three.”

“This is the caretaker you told me about, isn’t it?” said Ally. Arran nodded. “The caretaker of the Chamber of the Dead.” She faced the specter. “Why do you call me three?” 

“Your nature is now clear to me,” said the caretaker. It pointed a skeletal finger at her. “For you bear a threefold name. You are Allara Marentine. You are Ally Wester. You are Alastarius. It is given to me to know the names of all the mortals within the Tower. Yet your nature was hidden from me, for it was hidden from you.”

“What do you wish of us?” said Ally. “We do not have time to linger. We must find…”

“The Marr’Ugaoun,” said the caretaker. “The Destroyer of Worlds. You seek him.”

“He has entered the Tower to destroy it,” said Ally. A notion occurred to her. “Can you aid us against him? For if the Tower falls, than you shall surely perish as well.”

“Your concerns are meaningless to me. It is not my task to defend the Tower,” said the caretaker, shifting into gray mist. “It is my task to gather the mortal dead who fall within the Tower, to lay them to rest within the Chamber of the Dead. That is the task given me by the Divine, long before mortals ever walked the corridors of the Tower.” 

“Then are there others of your kind, your order?” said Ally. “Spirits tasked to defend the Tower?”

Something like a sigh rippled from the caretaker’s robes. “There were, long ago, longer than mortals can count. Some were given the power to guard. Others to rebuild. They faded away, slowly. Others were derelict in their duty, the sacred task given them by the Divine. Now am I all that remains. But that is meaningless. It is my task to gather the dead.”