by Allan Cole
The furnace waited; and above the furnace was the demon who fed on souls. Janos stood by the moving belt that clanked across the unholy fires that roasted those souls to the demon's taste. He urged us to hurry, and we shambled to him as if we were already one of Mortacious's slaves. I looked across the great belt and saw the blue flames leaping through the grate, and I heard the demon's gnashing teeth above. On the far side of that soul conveyer, Janos said, was rescued life; on this side, eternal slavery. He said he would go first to prove his theory, and warned that we must follow quickly, for he sensed the wizard was wakening. I would go last, he said, to make certain the pace did not slacken.
Then cold, cold Reason tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, angered by his unsummoned presence, and asked what it was he wanted. But I saw the answer in the hard mirrors of Reason's eyes. Janos's plan was sound enough, but it must be turned from tail to head; for if Janos was wrong, and error plucked him from us, we would all be helpless before the wizard's wrath. I must go first, Reason demanded, and Janos last... if I survived. Then the mirrors melted, and I found myself gazing into Halab's sad, knowing eyes. He whispered words of courage and warmed Reason's chill message until it was easier to hold. Halab stayed with me as I went to Janos and stopped him as he was about to mount the belt. When I presented my logic, Halab grinned in encouragement. Janos argued, but at last he admitted I was right.
Rare emotion nearly overcame him. I saw tears well, and as he turned to hide them, saw the tremble of his beard. Then he embraced me, and whispered I was the only one who had believed him from the beginning. He called me friend and brother and thanked me for my faith. I let him keep that lie as my gift; knowing when he put it in the chest he kept to hold such treasures, my gift would find little company. For all the time I knew Janos, I never heard him call another man or woman friend. I see now Janos was a man who liked but never loved; save once, and his curse robbed that of any value. So I let him believe the lie of my faith: but when he reached out, it was Halab's hand I grasped; and when he led me to the clacking belt, it was Halab, not Janos, who whispered my red-headed luck would confound the soul eater. Finally it was Janos who stepped away, while Halab crouched beside me as the conveyer swept me toward the flames.
I was hurled into a heat that had form and substance. It stole the air before I could breathe it; sapped my strength before I could gather it. The heat was a hammer that cracked me like an egg with its first blow; with its second, it crushed me into a trembling mass that knew only pain and fear. Fire spat and roared and I was swept into a tunnel of blue-flamed serpents that struck from every side. I felt my flesh peel away so the flames could attack naked nerve; and when they were ash, the wizard's furnace boiled off my blood and cracked my bones to sear the marrow. Everything that made me, even my screams, was slowly consumed by that fire. At last, all I had left were eyes to see the demon's twitching maw; ears to hear the clatter of its fangs; and a mind whose only thoughts were painful present and fearful future.
Then Halab leaned over, blocking the demon from view. He sang a song, the song I favored most as a child, and banished all the sounds I dreaded. He stroked my tormented body, and I felt bone and blood and flesh reform. Then he told me there was only a little way to go... a small bit of pain to endure... and we were done. I felt a great easing, and a familiar sense of self returned. With that return I realized my soul had left me for a time. We gave it a joyous welcome, my body and I. A moment later, I leaped off the belt, as strong and fresh as I have ever been in my life. I shouted to my friends across the great fiery expanse to hurry to me; we had a wizard to fight.
Sergeant Maeen was next; then the others came one-by-one. But as each passed through the furnace, under the hungry demon, I saw no sign of the suffering I had experienced: they lay immobile, as if in peace. Later they said they'd felt the same torment and fears as I, but a ghostly presence joined them on the belt, easing their passage and curing their pain. They said the ghost looked much like me. Then it was Janos's turn. He vaulted onto the belt and rode it standing up: his legs braced wide, arms crossed on his chest, as if in defiance. But I saw his face creased with deep concentration and knew brave posturing was not what he was about. Suddenly, his whole body gave off a golden light.
The blue flames stirred higher and hotter and the demon shrieked from frustrated hunger; but they were powerless against the golden glow. Then the flames drew in, withering into decreasing smallness until they were embers... and winked out. Above us, the demon was silent, teeth frozen in death's grimace; red maw still and turning to gray. Janos, now a great thief of magick, bounded off the grate when he reached the end. But before we could rush up with congratulations, a voice large enough to fill that vast chamber seared the air with its fury.
"What have you done, Greycloak?" It was Mortacious. The sorcerer had wakened. The voice boomed again: "Wait for me, Little Wizard. I'm coming to you."
Janos did not wait, nor did we. We ran from that place as fast as we could into the cold night. We raced down the cobbled road, weapons ready. Behind us I heard an explosion. I looked back and saw the door to the wizard's palace been blown away by some powerful force. Through that smoking portal came an enormous ball of fire as blue as the flames in that furnace. The ball shot jagged lighting and exploded the pebbles on the road as it passed over them. The wizard's voice cracked out at us from inside that fiery ball: "Run, little wizard, run." Laughter followed, cackling and crackling at our backs.
If his words were a command, we had no quarrel; added strength surged, and I ran even faster than before. We sped down the avenue they'd marched us along; past the one-eyed dwellings, with dead men for occupants. Our pace began to slow as our limbs wearied from the mad pursuit. Mortacious's gleeful laughter grew wilder as the gap narrowed. The fiery ball he rode cast our shadows far ahead of us; and oh, how we ached to be those distant, fleeing shadows. I heard Janos's labored breathing beside me; he seemed to stumble, but only bent to scoop up a pebble. Then he was gone and I turned back, thinking he'd fallen. Instead he was standing in Mortacious's path. As I ran to his side, he drew his sword and knocked the pebble against the blade. A spark leaped from the ringing metal. He struck again, and this time the spark he drew was longer - arcing toward the fireball that raced down on us.
Mortacious cried out: "I have you, little wizard." But the third time Janos struck, the spark exploded off the blade. As it arced outward, it exploded again and became a great shower of jagged stars that rained across the path of our hunter. Then they were falling on the ball, and it burst apart with a thunderclap - hurling Mortacious from its center. He tumbled end over end, then crashed onto the road.
The wizard was still for a moment, his robe a red puddle around him. If it had been a moment longer he would have had us, because we were about to charge and finish him off. The robe jerked, then ballooned into immense red wings. We wheeled and ran as the wings carried Mortacious aloft and he loosed a howl that shattered the air like glass. It was a call to the hunt, and as we sped to catch our comrades, the call was answered. Out of the one-eyed dwellings poured the wizard's slaves. They sniffed our living blood and bounded after us. We rounded the last turn before the harbor with that voiceless wolf pack at our heels, their winged master soaring overhead, urging them on. Our comrades were struggling to free boats to carry us away. But they stopped when they saw us racing down the hill with the horror at our backs. It was too late to do anything but fight.
I heard Sergeant Maeen bark orders as Janos and I plunged into their ranks to momentary safety; and I felt the shock as our friends absorbed the fury of the first wave and drove it back. We formed a battle line across one of the docks, forcing our enemies to attack in small groups. In the night sky, Mortacious circled, gathering his slaves for the final assault. It would be a repeat of that fight in the chamber, but against these odds there was no hope of an identical result. We hauled tar barrels out of a caulking barge and fired the docks as they came for us.
It was a fire of this wor
ld, not the next, that met their charge. Fueled by tar and old, dry wood, instead of spells, it became a fast-moving inferno that rushed down on them like a raging river. It burned their legs from under them and melted their weapons in the ashes of their remains. With no will of their own to heed pain's warning, they continued to advance; each rank waiting in patient turn for the others to be hurled against our fiery shield and be consumed. Above them, Mortacious cursed their ashes and called more of his warrior slaves to take their place.
The shore bristled with their numbers, and still more hurried down the road to them. Mortacious was building a bridge of their ashes and fire-burst bones. Soon there would be enough for them to scramble across and take us. But they would have to hurry, for this fire had no master to command it: on one side it was our shield, on the other it was our enemy as well, feeding on the dock we stood on and driving us into the sea. Mortacious sent men into the water, swimming along the burning dock to come up at our backs. The wizard drifted closer, mocking our hopeless folly with his laughter.
A hand reached up through broken boards to grasp Janos's foot. I leaped forward with a shout of warning, and cut off the hand with my sword. Janos saw it, flopping on the dock. Mortacious cackled and swept down at us. Janos plucked up the writhing hand, pressed his sword grip against the twisting fingers, and they held firm. He threw the blade upward with all his might. With the hand gripped hard on its hilt, the sword made an eerie spear: A phantom seemed to guide it as it hurtled toward Mortacious. His laughter chopped in mid cackle as it took him in the eye. He plummeted out of the sky, howling angry pain, and splashed into the water. We saw him sink beneath the waves, but the sight gave us small pleasure as we turned back to face his men. They were scrambling over the bridge of carnage up the burning dock. We knew as we braced ourselves their master would rise from the sea again to urge them on.
I made peace with the gods who formed me, and sent a last thanks to Halab. A smoking brute plunged out of the fire and I raised my sword to meet him.
Then the fates blew in from the sea to save us. The deep, clarion voice of a great magick bell rang across the waves. The tone was of such immensity all other sound fled as rolled over us, then spread to fill night's dark vault. The bell sounded again, and we felt peace wash over us. The peace was a melodious blanket that smothered the fire. It was a clear, ringing song even dead men could hear: they stopped, turning their heads to listen. As the last echo of the bell crept away Mortacious's slaves dropped their weapons, wheeled and shambled away.
Out of the darkness came a wondrous ship, with glowing sails and cheery lanterns dangling all along the sides. It was more graceful than any ship we had ever seen, and it sped toward us on enchanted wings, for there was no wind to fill those billowing sails. I heard Janos gasp, or maybe it was my own ragged breath of surprise, as we saw the crest emblazoned on the sails: a huge coiled serpent, set against a sunburst. As the ship came on, a graceful swan against black waters, I realized all we had faced before had been a test; and Mortacious had been the greatest test of all. I thanked the gods we had passed it.
A voice called to us from the deck: "Hail seekers." The voice was as melodious as the bell's. On the deck I saw the speaker: a handsome man, dressed in glittering white. He called out again: "We bring greetings... from the Far Kingdoms."
Janos gripped my arm in joy and around me I heard the men cheer. As the ship dropped boats to carry us away my own joy overcame all, and I was cheering as loudly as the others.
And that is how we came to discover the Far Kingdoms.
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
THE FAR KINGDOMS
Expectation can be a fickle goddess; but knowing that is no protection once she fires the lights of her shadow show. Promise is her most alluring plot; the more she keeps it dancing just ahead, the more willingly you follow. I have mourned as she danced away entirely at the end; but I have also known the greatest joy when she relented and I came into her arms. It was Expectation who drew me to the Far Kingdoms; and it was Expectation - multiplied many times over - that offered bright promise to those who awaited me at home. It was their dreams I carried, and they lay close as we danced across sparkling seas to those fabled shores.
I had often wondered what vision would first present itself. Sometimes I thought I would see a city of dazzling gold, with graceful towers and swooping minarets. Sometimes I thought it would be rich fields, and sweet meadows, with peaceful hamlets and white-walled villas abounding with flowers. However, no matter what form it took, in my mind's eye I always saw it from some great height: a jagged peak, perhaps, or some vaulting promontory. But I came upon our goal in a fashion more befitting a citizen of Orissa: just as it was upon the river of my birth I began the journey it was another river that bore me to the end.
As we left the sea that had borne us away from Gomalalee's evil, the great ship's bell tolled our arrival. The main sail billowed, displaying the serpent crest of the Far Kingdoms. As we approached the river's wide graceful mouth another bell answered from far beyond. We pressed against the rail, eager eyes probing for the first view of the goddess who had called us here. But she teased by drawing a veil, a pale blue mist, across her features. Then she let it lift before our white ship, blue wisps ribboning across the sails. A breeze wafted, polishing the view; our seduction was complete.
The first thing I saw when I entered the Far Kingdoms was an emerald tower rising out of the river. The tower had been artistically tapered to a slender point. A wondrous mirror spun on that point, showering the ship with butterflies of light. I felt a pleasant tingle as one alighted on my face, then a gentle, sorcerous sniff at my intentions. It hesitated when it found the protective spell Janos had cast over each of us after we boarded the rescue ship, but took no offense and fluttered on.
The first thing I heard when I entered the Far Kingdoms was a melodious song from the throats of a thousand, or more birds. They flew out of a forest of tall shapely trees that smelled of mint, and swooped back and forth over us - a cloud of color as glorious as the song. When I looked closely I saw the birds were the size of hunting eagles: metal fighting spurs winked from their talons; their beaks were heavy and hooked for tearing. The banks of the river were lined with a tumble of floral bowers; to our delight one of those bowers broke off and became a floating, sweet-smelling island. As it passed under our bow a voice called from the thicket of purple, trumpet-shaped flowers; when our captain answered back I saw the tips of spears needling out.
The first thought I had as we passed through those gates was the hand extended to us in welcome wore a velvet glove to cloak a steely fist. I shivered as the second thought prickled my spine: I was glad these people called us friend instead of enemy. As we rounded a high-hilled bend all thought melted before the splendorous view those hills curtained. The river was deeply curved, winding like a glorious serpent through misted fields and blue-green forests. Far inland, like a beacon, rose a graceful mountain as blue as the river that so bedazzled us. Beneath that mountain, we had been told, was our goal: the city of Irayas, where the great King Domas held court over all the realms of the Far Kingdoms.
We travelled for days on that river, and each day presented a multitude of wonders. On the first we sailed past a bustling port city three times the size of Orissa. Boats and ships buzzed about the docks, unloading and loading all manner of goods and foodstuffs. The port was amazingly clean and free of foul odors. The buildings and dwellings we saw had no common design, except to please the eye with a variety of shapes, sizes and colors. Captain Utorian, our host and the king's emissary, said the port was the center of all trade within the kingdoms, which he said spread out from both sides of the river; and stretched ahead, beyond the mountain beacon, for many a league. He told us King Domas's realm was composed of eleven principalities, each ruled by a prince who swore allegiance to the king. Scattered about these principalities were seventy great cities, and many minor ones as well. Grandest of all, he said, was Irayas, the seat
of final justice and power. He said the entire realm, what we called the Far Kingdoms - was named Vacaan, in honor of the supreme god of the Old Ones who had ruled this land with great wisdom for more than a thousand years, before they mysteriously departed. He said their ruins could be found all over Vacaan: there were remains of a city near Irayas, and ancient altars on the mountain's crown.
Utorian was a most congenial host: he took pains to answer as many questions as he could; those that made him hesitate he urged us to ask when we reached Irayas. After he hauled us off the smoking docks at Gomalalee he went to much trouble to see our wounds were treated, and that we were availed of hot baths and comfortable quarters. The only words he knew of our language were those he had called out when he came to carry us away from Mortacious's soulless city; but no sooner had we boarded than one of his officers presented us with transparent sponges and bade us by gesture to lick the moisture from them. As soon as we had done so, we were able to fully speak and understand their tongue. I fear our excitement made us spew such a great racket they must have been very sorry we did.
It was during those first few hours Janos cast a protective spell over each of us. Although the captain and his crew seemed to be kind and pleasant men, Janos reminded us we had only just come from being honored guests, and had best be cautious lest our hosts held similar intent. We needed little urging. Janos drew on new power gained from his encounter with Mortacious to forge the guardian spell. He said it would not turn aside an assassin's knife blade, but would warn us when grave danger lurked. After the alarm it was up to us to hide, fight, or run for reinforcements. The spell was a wise precaution, but after a short time in Utorian's company, I forgot I carried it; remembering only when we encountered the tower's inquisitive lights.