The Destroyer of Worlds (19 page)

Ally stepped forward, gazing up at the specter. “I don’t think you find it meaningless. We are not dead, yet you sought us out. You know what will happen if the Tower falls. The dead shall be lost, their bodies consumed in Marugon’s nuclear fire, their bones hurled into the void between the worlds.” The caretaker remained silent. “Arran told me of you, of your Chamber. You have been a faithful custodian for longer than I can imagine. Yet now the true test comes.”

“It is my task to gather the dead and guard them,” said the spirit, becoming a giant skeleton once more. “It is not my task to defend. Yet the Marr’Ugaoun shall throw down the Tower. He shall disturb the dead. I cannot permit that.”

“Then stop him,” said Arran, “surely you have the power.”

“The Marr’Ugaoun is wise in the ways of the Tower. He has not disturbed the dead.”

“Then aid us,” said Ally, “and we shall stop him.”

The caretaker fell silent for a long moment. “Yes. You speak truly. It was told to me, long ago. A Destroyer of Worlds would come to threaten the Tower. But a Defender of Worlds would come to challenge the Marr’Ugaoun. Yes. I must not fail in my task. I must aid you.”

“Can you take us to him?” said Ally. “Quickly?” 

“It is given to me to take the dead to the Chamber,” said the caretaker.

“Can you take us there?” said Arran. “After all, we shall be dead one day.”

“As you wish.” The caretaker raised its skeletal arms. The gray mist washed over them, and a deathly chill swept through Ally like a winter gale. 

When the gray mist cleared, they stood in the midst of a colossal hypostyle hall, tower-like columns stretching away as far as the eye could see. Thousands of sarcophagi stood in rows, their lids covered with carved effigies of red stone. Red stone panels, each the size of a sarcophagus, blanketed the columns, covered in countless more effigies. Arran let out a ragged breath and leaned against a sarcophagus. 

“The Chamber of the Dead,” Ally whispered. 

The caretaker stood behind a nearby tomb. “Through that door is the Chamber of the Great Seal. The Marr’Ugaoun awaits.”

“Thank you,” said Ally. The caretaker did not respond. She turned and ran for the door, Arran and Lithon behind her. 

Chapter 14 - The Destroyer of Worlds

Between the Worlds

The colossal archway loomed before Arran once more, flanked with its statues of winged skeletons. Beyond he saw the silver glimmer of the Great Seal. 

“Hold a moment,” said Ally. She turned and raised her hands. “Let me work a few spells.” White light flashed from her fingers and sank into Arran, leaving him feeling both warmer and safer. She did the same to Lithon.

“What did you do?” said Lithon.

“I placed spells of protection over you,” said Ally, “to ward you from Marugon’s powers. The first spell shall guard you from the raw power of entropy, one of the greatest of the Warlocks’ spells. The second spell shall guard against the Voice, though you will have to make a conscious effort to resist its calls. And be very careful. Marugon may try to trick us, or he might simply unleash the full wrath of his powers against us. But hopefully I can speak with him first.”

“Why?” said Arran. “What more is there to say with that monster?” 

“Very little, I fear,” said Ally, “though I may dissuade him. But we shall likely come to battle. When it does, stay out of my way. I can protect myself from his spells, but not both of you.”

“All right,” Arran agreed. 

Nonetheless he vowed that he would kill the Warlock should the chance arise. 

“Then let us go face Marugon,” said Ally.

They strode through the arch and into the Chamber of the Great Seal. Gaping holes had appeared in the walls, and one of the vast pillars stood askew. A yawning chasm stretched even to the edge of the Seal itself. 

A dark figure stood at the edge of the Seal, a few feet from the chasm, bent over a large box of black metal. Even at distance, Arran saw a red light flashing within the box. The dark figure turned, black robes swirling. 

Lord Marugon, last of the Warlocks, stared at them. 

“Hurry,” said Ally. 

They hastened across the marble floor, taking care to avoid the holes, and towards Marugon. The Warlock watched them, making no movements, his eyes staring into Ally. Arran trod once more on the Seal’s slippery, cold metal, boots scraping against the deep-cut runes. Again he had the fleeting sense of colossal pressure balanced above him, bearing down onto the Seal. Ally stopped about forty feet from Marugon. 

Still the Warlock remained motionless. 

Arran yanked a gun from its holster and fired, moving with the speed of long and bitter experience. The gun roared, and puffs of gray smoke swirled around Marugon’s black robes. 

Marugon didn’t even flinch.

The smoke settled to the silvery Seal like falling ash, and Arran’s gun clicked empty. 

“The bullets can’t touch him,” said Ally. “His spell drained their energy away, turned them to ash.” 

“Yes.” Marugon stepped around the bomb, fingering something metallic in his right hand. He looked older than Arran expected, face lined with care and weariness. Silver streaks marked his black hair, and his eyes were blank windows. “I commend your observation.” His cold eyes focused on Arran and darkened. “Slay her. Now.” 

Marugon’s Voice thundered through Arran’s skull. His hand jerked towards another gun, and he gritted his teeth, fighting the impulse. His hand jerked, trembled, and stilled as he mastered it. 

“Slay her!” said Marugon, Voice growling. 

Arran snarled and folded his arms. “No.”

Marugon made a small gesture with his free hand. “So. She has warded you against the Voice. Most wise.” Marugon stared at Arran for a long moment. The Warlock’s eyes were cold and empty and deep, like the breaches in the walls of the Tower, windows into the dark places between the worlds. “A Knight. You must be the infamous Ghost of Carlisan. Even after the price I put upon your head, you stand here before me. Most commendable.” He smiled like a wolf. “And you, young woman. You stand with the King of Carlisan at your side.” Lithon glared at him, but said nothing. “Despite all my efforts and labor over the years, you both live. Remarkable indeed. I assume Goth-Mar-Dan failed, yes?”

Arran stared at the bomb. He had expected Marugon to attack with the full force of his power. Why was the Warlock bothering to talk? 

“Goth-Mar-Dan is dead,” said Ally, “as he should have been centuries past.”

Marugon laughed. “On that we can agree. He thought to supplant me, one day.” He paused. “And Senator Wycliffe? You slew him?”

“No,” said Ally. “I drove the black magic from him, but nothing more.”

Marugon laughed again. “You should have slain him. It would have been more merciful. His enemies will devour him alive.”

Ally gave him a cold smile. “I did not spare him out of mercy.”

“I suppose not,” said Marugon. He stared at her, eyes narrowed. “Tell me. Who are you, really, Ally Wester? You are no more of Earth than I am. I have known as much since we beheld each other in that parking lot, the night Wycliffe gave his speech to the schoolmasters and their pupils. No scion of Earth could posses such power in the white magic.” His lip curled. “There should have been no one left to teach you to wield such might. I ensured that. Come now. One of us shall die in the next few moments, or perhaps both of us. There is no harm in telling me now. Who are you?” 

Ally stared back at him. “I am Alastarius’s granddaughter.” 

Marugon’s smirk vanished. “Impossible. Alastarius’s kin were slain. I saw their bodies with my own eyes.” 

“Lord Marentine had a daughter,” said Ally, “newly born. A servant hid her…hid me…as you slew his family.” 

“I did not slay Alastarius’s family!” snarled Marugon, his voice twisting. “That was Goth-Mar-Dan’s doing. I came to kill the old man. But he was not there. By the time I learned that, Goth-Mar-Dan and his vassals had rampaged through the castle.” 

“Nonsense. You slew Alastarius’s family for revenge,” said Ally. 

“I did not!” To Arran’s astonishment, something akin to grief flashed across Marugon’s face for an instant. “I did not. I killed Alastarius because he could have stopped me.” Marugon’s cold mask returned. “So. Alastarius’s granddaughter. Yes, I see now. You were of the same blood. He prepared you, made you his heir, and his power passed into your blood. I knew such a thing was possible, but I did not fear it, for I thought all Alastarius’s kin slain.” He snarled. “It seems Goth-Mar-Dan failed me in even this.” 

“Not just Alastarius’s power passed to me,” said Ally. “His memories, as well.” 

Again Marugon’s cold mask quivered. “Indeed? Ah. That elusive renegade could not have taught you such skill. Else the spell I left upon the door would have crushed you, as I intended. So Alastarius’s Prophecy was true. He did return again. In you, Alastarius reborn. Damn him. Damn him! I slew him, yet his memory haunted me, and now he has been reborn to trouble me once more.”

“His memory gave me more than just skill,” said Ally. “I know the truth about you. The Marr’Ugaoun.” 

Marugon flinched at the name. 

“I know who you really are,” said Ally. “I know why you sought out a nuclear bomb. And I know why you’ve brought it here.”

Marugon’s laugh was cold and bitter. “Indeed? And I thought you fought against me for revenge. I thought Lithon’s guardians had some ridiculous scheme for restoring the High Kingdoms. So instead you have come to save the mortal worlds. How noble.” 

“Yes,” said Ally. “Or, perhaps, to save you.”

Marugon frowned. “What?” 

“There is no need for you to do this,” said Ally. 

His cold laughter redoubled. “Indeed? I have labored all my life for this moment. Am I to stop now, so near the end, at the word of a stripling girl? Even if you do have the power of Alastarius, that is a foolish thing to ask.” 

Arran gritted his teeth, his hands wrapping around the hilts of his Sacred Blades. Why did Ally not strike? He had no doubt that Marugon was playing some kind of game, planning treachery or trickery. 

“You do not want this,” said Ally. Marugon opened his mouth to laugh again. But Ally cut him off. “They do. The children of the void. You hear them inside your skull, always commanding, always cajoling.” 

Marugon’s jaw jerked. “You know nothing. Nothing!” 

“I know the truth about you, Marugon, son of Adelemoch.” Marugon flinched. “The children of the void are inside your mind. They have driven you on, tormenting you, demanding that you free them.”

Marugon said something inarticulate. 

“They want you to free them, but you have never been free of them,” said Ally.

Marugon looked beyond weary, exhaustion and despair ground into every line of his face and posture. “You could not possibly understand.”

“I can,” said Ally. “I had Alastarius in my mind…”

Marugon roared in fury. “You understand nothing! Alastarius was one old mortal man. Just one man, who loved you as his kin. The children of the void are without limit. What did you experience? A few dreams, some voices, a scattering of visions from time to time? Their voices are always in my skull, always, never stopping, never a moment of silence or rest, just rest.” His voice cracked. “Just rest. And I see them in my dreams. I cannot bear to sleep more than a few hours. I see them in the void, so many of them, so hungry, waiting for me to free them.” His voice dropped to a shaking whisper. “How I hate them. Even now, they are screaming at me, demanding that I slay you, commanding that I free them.” 

“Then free yourself from them!” said Ally. 

Marugon made sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “Alastarius said much the same thing. And he paid the price. Ah, how he paid.” 

“But he was still right,” said Ally. “You can free yourself. It is still not too late. 

Marugon shook his head. “I slew your adoptive family, I tried to slay you, and yet you still try to help me? How like Alastarius you are. How merciful, how foolish.” Something human seemed to come into his eyes, though sad and bitter. “No. No, there is no other way. I can never be free of them, save in one way.” 

“The bomb,” said Ally. “But you will perish.”

“I care not,” said Marugon. “Perhaps it will destroy my flesh, free me of the weakness of this human body. Or perhaps it will annihilate my spirit and body both, give me blessed nothingness. No, granddaughter of Alastarius, you cannot understand. I would free myself, as Alastarius urged, if I could. But I cannot. This is the only way.”

Arran stared at the bomb. Its case stood open, a display of lights flashing. The lights were glowing numbers. He watched as the displayed flashed smaller and smaller numbers. Conmager had shown him a similar device in the barn…

The device was a timer. Conmager had used one on his bomb at the gate. 

The nuclear bomb was counting down. 

Arran drew his Sacred Blades. “It is a trick! He is stalling for time. The bomb is counting down.”

Ally looked at the bomb, and her eyes grew wide with alarm. 

Marugon grinned. “Kindness was Alastarius’s great weakness.” Grief and mockery rolled off his words in equal measure. “As is yours, Ally Wester. You should have done as the Ghost wished.” He held up a metal key. “Perhaps then you could have obtained this, the thing that could have shut down the bomb.” 

He spun and flung the key into the bottomless darkness of the nearby chasm. 

Ally shook her head. “You despairing fool.” 

“Stop it, if you can,” said Marugon, stepping before the bomb. “The last of the Wizards, the last King of the High Kingdoms, the last Knight, and the last of the Warlocks. So! Let us see who shall prevail.”

He spread his arms and shouted a word. The floor trembled, and a great mass of shadowy shapes broiled in the darkness behind the walls. Arran saw thousands upon thousands of children of the void begin to bulge up through the holes…

Ally raised her hands, her fingers flaring with white light. Marugon growled and turned to face her, his hands clenching into fists. Their faces trembled with strain, and Marugon shuddered and stepped back. A sheet of white light shimmered over the holes. The teeming children of the void vanished into the darkness. 

“Do not think to summon aid,” said Ally, wiping sweat from her brow. 

Marugon snarled another spell. Once more dark masses strained at the holes in the walls and the gashes in the floor. Ally’s fingers hooked into claws, her arms trembling. The white light over the holes shimmered, strained, and seemed to bulge…

Something huge and dark burst into the Chamber of the Great Seal. It hissed and reared up, taller than a large house, great wings of shadow looming up behind it. Shadows swirled about it like smoke, and Arran caught a glimpse of a gleaming, armored hide and claws like jagged swords. The nightmare snarled, turned its horn-crowned head back and forth, and took a step forward. 

“A prince of the void!” said Ally. “One of the lesser ones, its powers limited by the Great Seal, but still a prince of the void.” 

“Slay her!” said Marugon. The gigantic voidspawn lurched forward. 

“Arran. Keep it away from me.” Ally’s eyelids fluttered, and she began to glow with a gentle light. Shadows swirled around Marugon, seeming to armor him in darkness. 

Arran nodded and drew his Sacred Blades. 

###

Ally muttered spells of protection and warding over herself, their power sparking up and down her body. Marugon did the same, black magic encasing him like armor. She did not stop but cast another spell, the white magic spreading like warmth through her mind. White flames burst up from the floor and struck at Marugon, tearing at the otherworldly half of his soul. 

Marugon staggered, but his wards turned the strike. 

He struck back with a spell of entropy, a shadowy spear that lanced through the air. She leapt aside, and the edge of the spell clipped her. Her wards blunted its draining power, though an icy chill swept through her. Frost spread over the Seal’s silvery metal as Marugon’s spell drained the energy from the very air. 

“Futile,” said Marugon. “I slew Alastarius, and I shall slay you.”

Ally laughed at him. “You did not slay Alastarius.” She had to find a way past him and to the bomb. “Rembiar stabbed him in the back. Goth-Mar-Dan tore out his heart. You had nothing to do with it.”