"Yes," replied Bulcrist. "You do know. The tunnel from Ledge Hall."
"That tunnel has been sealed for centuries," said Fikus. "The Cursed Hall lies in ruin."
"It is sealed no longer. That is how the Nomadin and the Witch Queen secretly made their way into Asheverry, and into the very heart of the king's castle. That is why the demon- spawn seemed to spring from your very walls. The forbidden Crossing was opened beneath the king's very bedroom, and that is why you did not stand a chance."
Fikus paced the length of the tent in silence, chewing on Bulcrist's words. After a long moment he turned to the NiDemon. "Why would the Nomadin open the forbidden Crossing? What is there to be gained? It makes no sense."
"The Witch Queen is the key," replied Bulcrist. "She has wanted to rule Nadae since she first came to this land. But she cannot, for her power lies in controlling other spirits to her will. Since their banishment, there has been a lack of resources, so to speak."
"It is no secret that the Nomadin, too, have long desired power, and their own is waning fast. They have grown old and weary with no sons or daughters to continue their line. And they fear the prophesy that the Necromancer's third rise is upon them. Two great forces, the Witch Queen and the Nomadin, each lacking something the other can give them. The Witch Queen will get her spirits, and the Nomadin will get the Witch Queen's army to bolster their waning power. It is a simple equation. They have joined against you—against us."
Fikus was clearly shaken by the NiDemon's explanation. "How can you help us? What would you have us do?"
"Turn your men around," said Bulcrist. "March back to Asheverry."
"Are you mad? It's a march to death, and you know it. Would you have a thousand men armed with pitchforks try to retake the city from an army of shadows?"
"You will march to Asheverry, but not to battle," said Bulcrist evenly. "You only need to distract the Witch Queen and her army from finding me."
Fikus listened with sudden interest. "Go on."
"There are exits from the Long Dark Road, exits hidden to any not looking for them. Every mile a stair of stone leads back up to the land above. I will enter the tunnel by way of the exit nearest Asheverry, not far from its western walls. You and your men will approach the city from the north under cover of night and make camp before the Witch Queen's army, lighting as many watch fires as you can."
Fikus blinked, then shook his head in disbelief at the NiDemon's proposal.
"Wait," bade Bulcrist. "Do not jump to conclusions. Where you make camp is crucial. You must light the watch fires close enough to be seen, yet too distant for the Witch Queen to risk a nighttime assault. If done correctly, she will see a thousand watch fires burning on the fields in the distance and will think a great army lies encamped there. With her eyes and forces trained northward, I can enter the castle unnoticed. Once inside, I will deal with the Nomadin, slay the Witch Queen and close the Crossing."
Fikus scowled. "What of the demon hordes that are released already? Asheverry will still be besieged."
Bulcrist leaned back on his heels. "The spirits are bound by the Witch Queen's magic to do her bidding. That is the way of witches. Kill the binder and the bound are destroyed as well."
"If she wields such power as to bind ten thousand demons to her will, how do you hope to defeat her? One NiDemon and his apprentice can accomplish this?"
"The task will be done."
"I need more than that!" said Fikus, glaring at the NiDemon. "You ask much and tell too little. If you are wrong, then it is my men who will pay."
"Do you doubt our abilities?" asked Bulcrist, placing his hands beneath his robes. "Do you need further proof of our power?"
Fikus fingered his shining chain mail and said nothing.
"As I see it, it is you and your men who risk too little," said Bulcrist with a hint of disgust in his voice. "Will you wait for your king to return, only to be found hiding like children in the hills while his parents' bodies rot in their beds? I am offering you the chance of your kingdom restored while you chatter on about assurances."
Bulcrist drew himself up to his full height and stepped toward Fikus. "Have your men gather as much wood and tinder as they can carry. The plains before Asheverry's gates stretch five miles before ending in forested hills that border the river. Build your fires there. Lay them wide at the foot of the hills. Keep them burning until morning. The hills will offer the fuel you'll need. Should you feel the need to flee again, the hills will offer you safety as well."
Bulcrist had taken on such a command that Fikus stood silent before him, teetering between obeying his orders without question and fleeing the tent in terror.
"Time is short," said Bulcrist. "Leave within the hour, or go back to your skulking about."
Fikus scowled, then turned and left the tent. They heard him bark orders to someone outside.
"Will your plan work?" asked Windy, her anger ebbing away, replaced by a sudden cold fear. "Is it true about the tunnel? Is that how the Witch Queen entered Asheverry?"
"The Long Dark Road from Ledge Hall is the only way she could have gained such easy access."
Windy shook her head in disbelief. "If you knew about the tunnel from the start, why did we take the long way around? If we had taken the tunnel, Ilien would still be alive."
"If we had taken the tunnel," replied Bulcrist, "we might all be dead."
Men passed by outside. Bulcrist lowered his voice. "Although the tunnel has been unused for centuries, it's not empty. It's best we don't use it at all. That is why we will enter it only at its very end. Undoubtably, that is where the Witch Queen entered."
"How do you know that?"
"Because she wouldn't have reached the castle if she had entered elsewhere. Something lives in that tunnel. Something very ancient and very powerful that found its way in during the long years since the tunnel's abandonment. It is best left undisturbed."
Windy reached once more for the comfort of her sword. "A spirit?"
"Not a spirit. It is flesh and blood, but older and more powerful than anything living now. I met it when I first came to Ledge Hall, while foolishly exploring the tunnel. I barely escaped with my life. After that, I sealed the tunnel entrance, and have never ventured there since. That is why we will enter the tunnel only at its very end, where it is safest. It would be suicide to enter it at any other place."
Voices were heard outside, and Windy turned toward them. "What you said about Gallund, I didn't like it." She turned back to Bulcrist, her hand upon her sword, her body rigid. "Gallund didn't open the Crossing willingly. He was forced to do so."
"Of course," replied the NiDemon. "To his death It was a necessary lie. We are too late to save Ilien's father, but our task is even more important now. The Witch Queen must be killed. The Crossing must be closed. You will have your revenge, but until then we will lie again if necessary."
A hot anger surged through Windy, a thrumming power that emanated from her sword and filled her with a deadly intent. Revenge! Any thoughts of sorrow and loss were driven inexplicably away, leaving only rage and power behind. She trembled, a distant part of herself struggling against the overwhelming emotions swirling through her. Her hand gripped the sword tighter. With a perverse smile she turned to face Bulcrist, a faint red glow in her eyes.
"Yes. I will have my revenge!"
Chapter XIV
Death
Ilien climbed to his feet in the darkness. His head hurt, and he reached up to discover he was bleeding. The air smelled stale and sickly, like the inside of Anselm's shirt, but worse. He drew the Light rune with a shaking, blood-stained finger and stepped back to inspect his surroundings.
He wasn't in the tunnel. Smooth rock walls surrounded him on three sides. A soft, sandy floor pulled at his feet as he took a tentative step forward. Above him, a hole in the ceiling opened into inky darkness. There was no going back that way.
How far did I fall? he wondered.
The chamber opened into a rough stone corridor.
He brightened his magical light and peered into what might have been an infinite dark length.
Now what?
He thought of calling for help but a creeping chill moved up his spine and caused his head to hurt even more. A stir of air whispered along the corridor. He suddenly felt as if he wasn't alone. He searched the sandy floor for tracks, but nothing had come this way in a very long time.
You're being foolish. Get moving!
He forced his legs forward and walked into the corridor. The air was hushed. He tread quietly, his feet making a soft, steady swoosh in the thick sand. The tunnel was small, the jagged ceiling an arm's length above him. The floor sloped gently upwards, and Ilien hoped it stayed that way. He needed to get back to the tunnel above.
He followed the sloping tunnel for an hour, ever watchful, always keeping an eye out for tracks. He couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone. The air grew warmer, and the tunnel wider. Up ahead, he saw dark openings to either side where another tunnel intersected his. He stopped and dimmed his light. A sour odor tinged the air.
Which way?
He shook his head, and cursed his stupidity for leaving the others. He might never find his way out. He might wander the tunnel maze for weeks until he died of starvation. He chastised himself for thinking such thoughts. Anselm's words came back to him. Never has one who gave up seen anything but defeat.
Idiotic saying! With a deep breath, he forced himself onward.
He approached the passageway cautiously. He imagined long-armed, bulging-eyed creatures lying in wait for him just beyond the corner. His light brightened along with his anxiety. He crept forward, holding his breath. The intersecting tunnel lay empty, but the sour stench grew stronger.
He continued on straight, away from the sickening smell. For nearly an hour he wandered on, passing three more intersections. Some branched off at crazy angles. Others sloped back in the opposite direction. Still, there were no tracks in the sand. Perhaps he was alone after all.
He stopped at the fourth intersection, pondering whether he should continue straight ahead, or take a side passage. He slumped against the wall and slid to the ground. He was tired and wondered how long he had been walking. In the darkness, where every tunnel looked the same, time was playing tricks on him.
A scraping rasp sounded behind him. His light flared brighter and he spun around, his eyes burning into the darkness. He saw nothing. He pushed to his feet and held his ground in the four-way intersection, his body set like a spring ready to fly. The rasp sounded again, louder, closer.
A darkness raced up the tunnel, a shadow within the shadows. Two glassy eyes surged toward him, lifeless and empty. Ilien froze, his mind numb with terror. A scale-clad snout appeared, blood-red tongue flicking forth like a whip.
The snake coursed forward, filling the tunnel with its girth, its head like a battering ram on course to crush him. Ilien leapt right and fled up the branching passage. The sandy floor grabbed at his feet. He fell to his knees, lurched upward and raced on. Ahead, the tunnel forked. He sprinted to the right, snagged his foot, and fell with a cry. He rolled to his back, shielding himself with his arms.
The snake was gone.
He lay on the ground, frozen with fear. Where did it go? He peered into the darkness, listening for sounds of movement. He shoved to his feet, backpedaled away.
It's gone. It must have continued straight when I turned.Perhaps it's too large to turn. Its head nearly filled the tunnel!
He had never seen a snake so large, and he didn't intend to see it again. He turned and jogged onward. The tunnel forked again, and once more he kept to the right. He passed other branching passageways, too many to count. He stopped often to look behind and listen for sounds of the snake. Though he heard and saw nothing, his heart beat uncontrollably. He was lost—lost forever in a maze of tunnels with a monstrous, man- eating snake slithering behind him!
He stopped and leaned against the wall. How long had he been running? He couldn't go on like this. He needed to find his way back to the beginning and call for help. The others would hear him. They would come for him.
That meant returning to the passage where he had encountered the snake.
The air stirred, bringing with it the sour smell from before. He stiffened. His breath caught in his throat and his heart felt as if it would explode with terror. From up the tunnel came the sound of moving sand. The snake was ahead of him! But how?
He spun and fled. The rasp of scales on stone followed him like a rushing torrent. He had to reach the nearest intersection. It wasn't far. He could see it up ahead, a black entryway cut into the walls on either side. The sand dragged at his feet. He lost his footing, careened off the wall and sprinted on.
He wasn't going to make it!
With a fear-frenzied cry he reached the intersection. He dove into the right-side passage, slammed into the wall and fell to the sandy floor. The snake lunged after him, its massive head plugging the tunnel, crashing into the ceiling in its effort to reach him. The rock shuttered and cracked. Stones rained down on Ilien as he scrambled back. The snake was too big! It couldn't make the turn! Its tongue knifed out, stabbing the ground. It lunged again but got no further. Eyes narrowing, it extracted its head, slithered down the tunnel and was gone.
There was no time to waste. Ilien now knew that it would return. The tunnels were interconnected. It would find its way back to attack him from a different direction. He surged to his feet, spun—and froze.
Crouching in the sand like a clot of darkness, the black creature from beyond death's door waited for him to move.
Ilien's hand strayed to his pocket. A sudden flash of heat from the grovelstone spread down his leg, but he didn't dare reach for it. The black creature crept forward, growing larger, ever darker, absorbing the light from Ilien's Nihilic spell and dimming the tunnel all around. Ilien retreated before it, ever mindful that he was being forced into the passage where the snake had just retreated. He stopped. So did the creature.
They stood motionless before the intersection. Finally, Ilien could stand it no longer and shouted, "What do you want from me?"
Ilien's harsh cry was cut short, swallowed by the black shadow before him. The creature expanded, its blackness condensing until it seemed no longer just the absence of light but the absence of . . . everything. A void. The utter nothingness pained Ilien's eyes. He was blinded, but he did not look away. He could not.
"You do not know me?" asked the void. Its voice was like a stabbing silence that deafened Ilien, like the lack of words, an empty page, yet no page at all. But Ilien understood.
"Who are you, and what do you want from me?" asked Ilien, gathering enough courage to slip his hand into his pocket. The grovelstone tingled against his fingers.
The nothingness expanded still further, tendrils of blackness swirling around its edges. "You do not remember?" The light from Ilien's Nihilic spell drained from the air, evaporating before the utter emptiness. "I am son and daughter. You are father. Mother. Do you not remember me now?"
Ilien blinked to clear his eyes, but the blindness remained. Daughter? Mother? His numb fingers clutched at the Dorundum stone.
"You have loosed me on the world for the second time. No one will banish me again. Do you still forget me?"
"You are from beyond death's door," said Ilien. "You are the creature who followed me back."
The nothingness advanced, and Ilien fell back before it. He pulled the grovelstone from his pocket and raised it high.
The blackness halted. "Yes, I followed you back from the Land of the Dead, but it was your children who banished me there. Do you forget yourself as well?"
Ilien felt a prickle of fear run up his spine.
"You do remember. You do know who you are, but you do not believe."
The grovelstone flared a brilliant yellow, forcing the blindness from Ilien's eyes. He could see his surroundings. He stood his ground in the four-way intersection. Panic welled within him. He listened for signs of the snake. He
heard nothing, not even his own breathing.
"Everything has come to pass because of me," said the void. "Yet you do not recall who I am? Because of me, your favored children have nearly destroyed themselves. Because of me, all of creation is in jeopardy. Through my design, you are now a child, powerless to stop what I have put into motion."
Ilien's mind reeled. I am not the Creator. I'm not!
"Yes," said the nothingness. "My victory is complete. I have done nothing but watch it unfold. That is the way of Evil. It works best in the guise of good deeds. My presence alone was enough to divide the Nomadin. Once they took me into their hearts, it mattered not that they destroyed me."
This was the Evil from Bulcrist's tale! The Evil the Nomadin had destroyed, the destruction of which led to the split between them, to the division of Nomadin and NiDemon. Bulcrist's tale was true!
"I can sit idly by no longer," continued the nothingness, "for you have come to me as I have foreseen from the beginning. You have come to me imprisoned as a child, and have released me from death. You alone could stand in my way. Your heart is closed to me. Unlike your creation, you could oppose me—if you were not a child."
Ilien squeezed the Dorundum, and it threw sparks in all directions. "If I am the Creator, then you cannot destroy me."
The Evil crept forward. "Your own prophesy is your undoing. You are a child, a child who does not know who he is. You are lost, imprisoned, powerless until released by the One prophesied to save you. And she shall soon be dead."
Windy! Ilien thrust the blazing stone before him. The nothingness halted again. "I opposed you once!" shouted Ilien. "I have a power to oppose you again. Do you forget what this can do?"
The Evil held its ground. The Dorundum coursed with vibrant light.
"It is you who forget a great many things," it said.
The sand beneath Ilien's feet trembled. The snake! The snake was coming! Ilien turned to run.
A fang-filled mouth met him in mid-turn, closed upon his body and drove him violently to the ground. The nothingness hovered over him as the snake's dagger-like fangs lanced through his body. Searing agony coursed through Ilien's veins as venom gushed into his body. His legs kicked out, his hands flew up. The grovelstone flew from his grasp, and the Evil jumped back. The snake raised its head, lifted Ilien into the air and smashed him into the ceiling. Ilien gasped in mind-numbing pain. The snake thrashed from side to side, battering his body against the walls.
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