Tyrant's Stars: Parts Three and Four (9 page)

Once Sue had watched Seurat step back into the first great circle, she saw a figure appear from the forest to her left without making a sound.

“D—uh, Mr. D!”

The girl was naturally overjoyed. However, her heart didn’t leap as much as she’d imagined it would.

D shot a quick glance at her. Perhaps that was enough for him to assess her condition, because he didn’t ask Sue if she was okay before heading toward Seurat. Having ascertained the safety of his charge, all that remained for him to do was slay his opponent. He was a handsome huntsman braving the raging flames of murderous intent.

Once he’d closed to within fifteen feet of his foe, D reached for the hilt of his longsword with his right hand. He made no attempt to learn Seurat’s name or background. The will to kill emanating from the giant was all the proof the Hunter needed.

“D!” Sue called out. She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him.

She saw a second D pull away from the first—Sue had no way of knowing that this was due to his speed, which was so great it left an afterimage emblazoned on her retinas. His sword whined through the wind. It seemed Seurat would be cut in two. However, Sue’s eyes went wide.

The blade that should’ve made contact with Seurat had suddenly vanished. There was no attempt at a second stroke—D was making a great leap to narrowly avoid the club swinging at him. In midair the Hunter launched a rough wooden needle, and then made his landing. But the needle vanished as well.

Sue heard herself gasp aloud.

The blade in D’s right hand had returned.

“Look at the ground!” Sue shouted. “He did something—drew a circle. That has to be the secret!”

Seurat glanced briefly at her, and then quickly returned his gaze to D.

D had probably seen through what Seurat was doing already. Both his blade and his needle had vanished into thin air right over the edge of the circle Seurat had inscribed on the ground. However, the circle wasn’t complete. The line that should’ve closed it deviated instead. If D’s left hand had been there, it might’ve croaked, “Why, it’s a maze!”

If ordinary mazes were intended to confuse the senses of those who entered and keep them wandering around endlessly, then it would come as little surprise that an assassin in the service of the Ultimate Noble might draw up a maze that could befuddle not only people but objects as well. And when those objects lost their way, they vanished from this world—going off in another direction entirely. Only the mazes Seurat drew could do such a thing. Any physical attack would be nullified the instant it crossed that line, while Seurat, on the other hand, was free to strike at will.

“Uh, excuse me,” Sue called over to the giant. “That’s cheating. Fight him fair and square.”

She never thought her words would make a difference. But something astonishing happened. Seurat stepped out of his circle. He did it of his own free will, but his timing was perfect. Sue was ecstatic.

“Best of luck to both of you!” she called to them in a manner that was both innocent and carefree, but her cheers were frozen a second later. As the pair squared off once more, the waves of murderous intent that crashed together in the space between them were intense. It was nearly noon, the ground was blanketed in green, and every time the wind blew the sunlight seemed to highlight the colors around them—but here alone the forest was frozen with the lust for killing.

However, the battle was short. D didn’t make the first move, but the instant the giant’s blow was about to smash down on him, he made a bound that left him standing next to Sue.

“D?” Sue shouted as the Hunter brought his right foot down on the circle that surrounded her—she’d felt him enter it.

When D disappeared from the right foot up to the right shoulder, Seurat raced over and swung his club. Without time enough to dodge, D took a blow to the left side of his chest that was like an explosion, sending him flying head first several yards down into the same spot in the river at the bottom of the crevasse where the water demon had met its fate earlier.

“D?”

Driven by emotion more violent than she could’ve imagined, Sue was about to rush forward. But something odd happened to her. For an instant, it felt like she’d just spun about a full three hundred sixty degrees, and her field of view was painted white. Every sound faded, and Sue realized she was in another place entirely. If she remained there, she might’ve vanished completely from the real world without anyone ever knowing it. However, her return took place almost immediately. As Sue stood, dazed, the enormous figure had stooped down in front of her, erased the broken line, and completed the circle.

Catching the unsteady Sue, Seurat trained his gaze on the silvery flow that had swallowed D. More than satisfaction at victory, it was the solitary air of a huntsman who’d lost the game he’d long pursued that shrouded his massive frame.

II

The boy opened his eyes, and suddenly a face he knew well was peering down at him.

“Awake now, are you?”

Sue.
He meant to say it, but nothing came out.

“You mustn’t move,” she told him, but he’d already moved both hands and felt an intense pain shoot through them. “You’ve got burns all over your body. I’m surprised you survived.”

Finally Matthew realized he was lying in a bed much like his own, and his entire body was wrapped in bandages like a mummy’s. However, that wasn’t what slammed him deep into a pool of despair.

It’s not her. This girl
—
she’s not Sue.

Her hair was the same color. There was some resemblance in her features, too. But when he looked at her on fully regaining his senses—she was someone else.

“Just three hours ago, you were lying by the entrance to the village. You took the Heat-Ray Road here, didn’t you? Didn’t anyone warn you about that?”

Matthew’s memory returned to him. After having been rescued by Duchess Miranda, he’d wandered around in search of help, coming at last to a kind of depressed region. Suddenly the light of dawn had become a blistering beam. Though he’d tried desperately to escape, it was so hot his skin cracked, and he’d swiftly become deranged. Even after that, he could recall wandering a good deal longer. That he’d managed to do so was thanks to the strength he’d built up working on his family’s farm.

“Wh . . . wh . . . where ... am I?” he asked, and the words came out more easily than he’d expected.

“You know the central Frontier?” the girl who resembled Sue inquired.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, near its northern edge. In the village of Rushall.”

“The northern edge?”

From the fortress, it was a full week on horseback to the northern Frontier, according to what Count Braujou had told them back at Lamoa. When had he traveled so far?

Perhaps sensing Matthew’s question, the girl continued, “Scientists investigating the Heat-Ray Road have established that its secret lies in a distortion in physical space. The atmosphere that should buffer the sunlight is twisted, so the rays come straight there instead. Apparently the same thing happens in a few different places around the world. I don’t know how many people like you I’ve had to help.”

For a second, Matthew’s mind drifted away. The northern edge— that was the place he and Sue had the most cause to fear. His own feet had ended up carrying him right into hell. Flames of what might be described as pity flared up in Matthew’s heart, and he groaned. The flames had taken the shape of Sue’s face.

“Don’t cry,” the girl said, gently stroking the corner of his eye with a pale finger. “I don’t know who you are or where you come from, but I’ll look after you until you’re able to walk again. The medicine I put on you works real well. Why, in three days’ time you’ll be good as new.”

“Thank . . . you . . .”

“Don’t mention it. When the going gets tough, we’ve gotta help one another. They call me Sue. Um, what’s the matter?”

“I’m . . . Matthew.”

And having managed to reply, Matthew shut his eyes. This Sue’s face vanished, but the face of the other Sue was still in his heart. He silently prayed to God
that
Sue’s face wouldn’t be replaced by this one’s.

Damn that boy—hasn’t he shown up yet?” a voice muttered from an enormous coffin.

Lacking even a single window, the room was sealed in darkness. Nevertheless, the occupant of the coffin couldn’t come out because it was still midday.

We’ll meet up soon enough. Get your car to go a little faster,” another voice replied in the darkness. If it’d been light and any human had been there to witness this scene, it would’ve scared the living daylights out of him. Sitting on top of the coffin was a disembodied left hand.

“It’s not as if you don’t know what kind of condition these Frontier roads are in,” the voice from the coffin responded. Needless to say, it belonged to Count Braujou.

That s the fault of you Nobles,” the left hand countered sharply. You used metals that would last forever to build the major highways your carriages took, while you frustrated the humans’ efforts to make roads by leaving tangled forests and supernatural critters everywhere. You made a world of medieval horrors, leaving contemporary people to suffer like serfs, powerless in the midst of monsters and magic. The production of artificial blood had already been perfected. Why didn’t you just wipe out the human race in one fell swoop? Your world has no need for human beings.”

That question’s been answered by as many people as there are stars in the universe,” the count said. “But not one of them can claim to have the true answer. Perhaps ...”

As Braujou paused, the left hand inquired, “Perhaps what?”

It wouldn’t have been strange if the question had gone unanswered. Nevertheless, the count replied, “Perhaps we all knew what the real answer was. Or rather, we know
even now."

“Count Braujou, have you ever wanted something that you couldn’t have?”

The count fell silent at this new and abrupt query. The left hand’s question seemed as effective as an arrow through the very heart of the Nobleman. The voice that issued from the coffin was terribly shaken. And it soon swelled with deep emotion.

“Science, magic, civilization,” the count said, his words hanging like castles in the air. “We reached the pinnacle of each, yet one dream still remains unfulfilled—I can’t help but think that.”

“An unfulfilled dream? A
dream
? Nothing as warm and fuzzy as a dream exists in your world,” the left hand sneered. “If you have a dream, then make it a reality. Accomplish your every desire—that’s the Noble way. Is that why you allowed the human race to survive? So that your unfulfilled dream wouldn’t be
just
a dream?”

If the count had responded, he might’ve offered a valuable hint to an issue spanning the history of humanity and the Nobility. However, that was not to be. A warning siren sounded through the air.