The Skrayling Tree (42 page)

Some cruel intelligence had devised the death of this Phoorn. An intelligence which understood the agony of guilt the Phoorn
must feel at betraying his own destiny. An intelligence which appreciated the irony of making the tree’s defender its killer
and of making the Phoorn’s own kin his destroyer.

I have no weapon, Uncle. Wait. I will find one.

I looked over my shoulder to question Lord Sepiriz. He was gone.

Instead, Gaynor the Damned stood behind me, some distance away. His armored body glistened with brilliant, mirrored silver.
On his right hand was Johannes Klosterheim in his puritan black. On his left hand was Elric of Melniboné in all his traditional
war-gear. Gaynor’s dark sword hung naked in his mailed hand, and Elric was drawing another black blade which quivered and
sang, hungered for blood.

They stepped forward as one, and the effect was startling. As they moved closer towards me, their size decreased until by
the time we were face-to-face, we were all of the same proportions.

I peered past them. Something lurked behind them, but I could not determine what it was.

“So good of you to grant the dragon mercy, Cousin Ulric.” Gaynor’s voice was quiet within his helm. He seemed amused. “He
will die in his own time. And you have killed your wife, too, I note. Your quest has scarcely been a success. What, in all
the worlds, makes you believe that you will not continue to repeat these tragedies down the ages? You cannot escape destiny,
Cousin. You were ordained to fight forever, as I am ordained to carry the instant of my death with me for eternity. So I have
brought us both a blessing. Or at very least a conclusion. You were never fated to know peace with a woman, Champion. At least
not for long. Now you have no destiny at all, save death. For I am here to cut the roots of the multiversal tree, to send
the Cosmic Balance irredeemably to destruction and take the whole of creation with me to my punishment!”

He spoke softly and with certainty.

I had no reason to listen to him. I refused to let my annoyance with his crazy mockery show in my voice. I was greedy for
my lost sword, which I had flung out over the ice. What could I do against such odds?

“So,” I said, “the void has a voice. But the void is still a void. You seek to fill up your soulless being with empty fury.
The less you are able to fill it, the more furious you become. You are a sad wretch, Cousin, stamping about in all your armor
and braggadocio.”

Gaynor ignored this. Klosterheim allowed himself a slight glint of amusement. From his bone-white face Elric’s crimson eyes
stared steadily into mine.

All I thought when I looked at him was
Traitor.
I hated him for the company he kept. How was it that he had been on my side against Gaynor on the Isle of Morn and now stood
shoulder to shoulder with the corrupter of universes?

Klosterheim looked worn. He had drained himself with his conjuring and spell casting. I was reminded of the dying pygmy I
had encountered on the way to Kakatanawa. Klosterheim, like me, had no natural penchant for sorcery. “You are unarmed, Count
Ulric. You have no power at all against us. This evil thing that you call ‘uncle’ will be witness to the final moments of
the Balance as it fades into nonexistence. The tree falls. The very roots are poisoned and can be attacked with steel at last.
The multiverse returns to insensate Chaos. God and Satan die and in death are reconciled. And I shall be reconciled.”

These supernatural events, like a constant, ongoing nightmare, had clearly affected his sanity rather more than mine. But
I had something to focus on. Something more important than life or death, waking or dreaming. I had to find my wife. I needed
to know that I had not destroyed her.

Where was White Crow? What had he done with Oona?

Through the dark, gorgeous mist roiling at Gaynor’s back, shadows stirred and drew closer.

The Kakatanawa.

Where is my wife?
I asked.
Where is Oona?
But they were silent, moving to enclose the three threatening me.

Gaynor seemed unworried. As the Kakatanawa
advanced, they reduced in scale, so that by the time they confronted Gaynor and his henchmen, they were equal in size. They
remained, however, impressive warriors, handsome in their beautifully designed tattoos which rippled over their bodies and
limbs from head to waist, a record of their experience and their wisdom.

“This is blasphemy,” intoned one. “You must go.” His voice was resonant, very soft, and carried enormous authority.

Gaynor remained unconcerned. He gestured to Elric, who again took up the big horn. Elric placed the instrument to his lips
and drew a deep breath.

Even before he began to blow, the noise below my feet increased. Out of the subterranean caverns, an ally was rising, the
echoes of his voice whispering and whining through the caverns and crags of the underworld. I imagined all those ethereal
inhabitants, the Off-Moo and their kin, seeking shelter from that destructive malice. I feared for friends I had last seen
in those endless caves lying between the multiverse and the Grey Fees. Did they perish below as we were to perish above?

But there was also something happening above us. A distant shrieking, almost human. It consumed everything with its sinister
aggression.

The growing noise alerted the Kakatanawa. All simultaneously looked skyward in surprise and alarm. Only Gaynor and his friends
seemed careless of the commotion.

There came a thrashing and slashing from far above. A metallic chuckling. A muttering, rising voice became a distant howl.
Louder and louder it grew, crashing
through the branches of the great Skrayling Tree, sending jagged shards of light in all directions. It seemed that entire
universes might spin to land and be crushed underfoot. I felt a sickness, a realization of the magnitude of Death accompanying
Lord Shoashooan’s descent towards us.

It could be nothing else but the Lord of Winds. Summoned by that traitor Elric! What possible promise could Gaynor have made
to him?

My cousin intended to destroy the multiverse and destroy himself at the same time.

And Lord Shoashooan was stronger than ever, hurtling at us from above and below!

Gaynor stepped forward, his sword held in his two mailed hands, and swept the dark blade down towards the tree’s already dying
roots.

NO!
I moved without thought and leaped forward. Unarmed I tried to wrestle the pulsing sword from his fists.

Klosterheim advanced with his own blade drawn. But Elric had turned and leaped towards the dragon, using his pulsing sword
to climb the glinting peacock scales, a tiny figure on the dragon’s side. I heard his crooning song join with that of his
sword, and I knew the Phoorn heard it, too. What did Elric want? The creature was too weak to move its head, let alone help
him.

Then it came to me that Elric intended to kill it. That was to be his task. To kill his own brother as I had killed my own
wife. Was all our ancient family to die in one terrible, unnatural bloodletting?

I hardly knew what to do. I had no sword. I could not stop them all. The Kakatanawa had held their positions. I realized that
they were guarding something.

Not the tree any longer, but the same shadowy shape I had glimpsed before.

Lord Shoashooan howled downwards while beneath our feet the other wind was beginning to test at the ground. I was convinced
it must soon erupt under us.

Elric reached a point close to the dragon’s back. He had his sword in hand, his shield on his arm, the horn at his belt. His
cloak swirled around the ivory whiteness of his skin. His crimson eyes flashed wolfishly, triumphantly. I saw him raise the
sword.

I forgot Gaynor, who pointlessly continued to hack with compulsive energy at the tree’s roots. I left Klosterheim stumbling
in my wake. Over that heaving, spongy ground, with one tornado advancing from above and another apparently from below, I ran
back towards the dragon. White Crow appeared at my side. He did not pause but reached out towards me. He tore the talisman
from his neck and placed it around my own. Why had he given me the miniature of Elric’s great shield? How could a trinket
possibly protect me?

I will bring her now. It is time
…

He shouted something else, but I did not hear him. I began to climb in Elric’s wake. Even against his own wishes, I had to
save the Phoorn, for only he could ever save us. I had no clear idea of what to do next, but since Elric had gone mad and
was trying to kill his brother, I had to try to stop him.

Another sound trumpeted over the noise of the
winds. Looking back I saw Bes. Her body was covered in dark copper mesh which swayed as she trotted. As she came nearer, I
realized her size was almost the equal to the Phoorn. Her great, linen-covered platform swayed on her back, its flaps wild
in the wind. Riding on the neck of the beast, spear in his hand, was White Crow in all his paint and finery, his pale scalp
lock lying along his left shoulder. His face was prepared for war. Behind him came the buffalo hide–draped platform resembling
a circular bier laid out with a body which clutched a sword to its chest. I knew this had to be Oona.

I was torn. Was I to continue on and try to stop Elric, or should I turn back to tend to my wife? This all seemed part of
my torment. I wondered how much of it Gaynor had planned.

The unstable ground began to heave like quicksand. Bes had difficulty keeping her footing. White Crow signaled for me to go
on. I looked up. Elric was putting the horn to his lips.

And then, from somewhere, sweetly cutting through the raging howl of the wind, I heard the crystalline sound of Ayanawatta’s
bone flute.

As Elric blew another blast on the horn, the notes immediately blended with the music of the flute. Rather than canceling
each other out, they resonated and swelled into a grand harmonic. Urgently I continued to climb up the clattering dazzle of
the Phoorn’s scales.

The tornado was still tearing its way downwards, and from below, the ground around the tree’s roots was beginning to spit
and bubble.

I lost sight of Elric above me but noticed the Phoorn’s
breathing had changed. Did he understand that Elric was trying to kill him, as he had begged me to do?

Lord Shoashooan crashed in upon us. His grinning, whirling heads flashed rending teeth. His wild, swinging arms ended in long
claws. His feet had scythes for nails. And everywhere he danced he brought destruction.

I was certain that once Lord Shoashooan joined with his twin elemental, even now dancing just below the surface as Shoashooan
danced above it, everything would begin to collapse in a final appalling cataclysm!

From behind me the nine Kakatanawa advanced upon Lord Shoashooan. Ayanawatta’s flute rose above the din, sounding delicate
and somber now.

Lord Shoashooan blustered and swung wildly about him, but his belligerence had no force. The sound of the flute had some effect
on him. Perhaps it calmed that berserk rage?

I thought I glimpsed the outline of White Crow and Bes moving below. They, too, were bound to be destroyed.

Then all at once the nine Kakatanawa surrounded the base of the tornado. Their hair and clothing streaming out from their
bodies in that hideous turbulence, they held their ground. Linking arms and shields and with lances thrust outwards, war clubs
at their sides, they formed a circle around the whirling base—a ring strong enough to contain Lord Shoashooan as soon as he
touched the exposed roots of the tree at which Gaynor maniacally continued to hack while Klosterheim looked on impassively.

I saw Ayanawatta walk into the circle formed by the
Kakatanawa, still playing his flute. It was clear from the buffeting that he would not hold Lord Shoashooan for long, but
it was incredible that he could hold him at all. I pushed on, climbing those yielding, pulsing scales, while above me, I was
sure, Elric prepared to deal his brother a death blow.

I willed myself to find more energy. We must all be weakening before the force of this stupendous supernatural threat. I reminded
myself that we almost certainly witnessed the end of everything. If I did not discover further resolve within me, I should
reach the moment of my death knowing that I had not done enough.

This spurred me to complete my climb. I danced along the Phoorn’s back while above me the branches of the great multiversal
tree stretched out forever, damaged but not yet destroyed. I saw Elric. His sword had indeed made a cut in the Phoorn’s vulnerable
spine, where it met the head. Yellow blood oozed from the long incision.

I climbed on, determined to stop him. But before I could reach him he took his shield and pressed it down onto the bloody
patch he had made in the beast’s hide. The shield fitted the patch exactly. Blood soaked it through instantly as it was absorbed
into the Phoorn’s flesh. What was Elric doing? He stretched out his hand to me now. It was as if he had expected me, even
welcomed me.

I made my way forward as the Phoorn’s back rippled and stirred under my feet.
What is it? What do you do?

Give me what White Crow gave you! Quickly. I have deceived Gaynor until now. He still controls Lord
Shoashooan but is distracted. This is our moment. Give me the talisman, von Bek!

Without hesitation I ripped it from my neck and threw it to him. He caught it in his gloved fist and, kneeling, placed it
at the center of the wound he had made. A plume of bright red fire shot up like a beacon, higher and higher until it disappeared
among the branches of the Skrayling Oak. Then, burning brilliant white it sank slowly back, spreading out as it turned to
pale blue and covered the Phoorn’s wound. The Phoorn let out a long, deep sigh which blended with the sound of the flute.

Sensing what was happening, Lord Shoashooan yelled and feinted at the Kakatanawa warriors. But they held their ground. They
stabbed at him with their spears. They swung their war clubs against his whirling sides, struggling to control the spin of
their weapons as the winds flung them back.