“Who are you?” said Arran, even though he knew.
“Mom?” whispered Lithon, his face sagging with disbelief and joy. “Mom?”
Katrina Wester smiled. “Yes, yes, it’s me, honey. Run to me now, run to me, quickly!”
Lithon started to bolt forward.
“No!” Arran grabbed his shoulder.
Lithon scowled at him. “What are you doing? Let me go!”
“No!” growled Arran. “That black spirit is not your mother. It is a deception Do not!”
“Lithon,” said the woman, her voice heavy with sadness. “I’ve missed you so much. I don’t know what happened. You…you were gone, the house was on fire, and I couldn’t find you or Ally. Dad and I were worried to death.”
“You are not his mother,” said Arran, Lithon struggling against his grip. Arran rammed one of his Sacred Blades into its scabbard, reached down, and pinned Lithon’s arms in place. “Go back to the black nothingness.”
“You are right, whoever you are,” said the woman. “Lithon is not my son, not by blood, at least. But I raised him. I may not be his mother, but he is my son. He is mine. Let him come to me. Please. He’ll be happier.”
“Let me go!” said Lithon, tears streaming down his face. “Let me go, let me go, let me go!”
“I will not,” said Arran, tightening his grip. “That fiend is not your mother. I know their black trickery. Tell him, Ally. Ally? Ally!”
Ally stood transfixed, staring at her mother as if hypnotized.
She took a step forward.
“No!” Arran pinned the struggling Lithon around the waist and stepped before Ally. “Listen to me! That is not your mother.”
“Ally!” wailed the voidspawn masquerading as Katrina Wester, her voice lost. “Where have you been? What happened?”
Ally’s eyes narrowed, and she drew herself. For a moment she looked very much like Alastarius, her face grim and terrible. “I know what you are.”
The woman fell silent.
“It’s Mom, Ally,” said Lithon. “It’s Mom! Can’t you see that?”
“I can see clearly,” said Ally.
“Give me the boy,” said the woman, her tone chilling. “He is mine. Give him to me, and I shall let you pass through the Tower, to whatever world you wish.”
Lithon stopped struggling. Arran let him go and drew Luthar’s Sacred Blade.
“No,” said Ally. “Go back to the black voids now, while you still can.”
The woman laughed, eyes bulging with glee. “The boy shall be ours anyway, as shall you and the Knight who escaped us once before. The Tower will be thrown down. You cannot stop the Marr’Ugaoun. Lie down and die while you still can.” Arran’s Sacred Blades jolted, glimmering with azure and white flames.
“If that were true,” said Ally, “then you would not be trying to stop us, would you?”
The woman shrieked, claws of shadow bursting from her fingers, her eyes becoming pits into a bottomless void. Wings of shadow rose around her, and the creature flung itself at Ally.
Arran was faster, his Sacred Blades moving in a burning blur. His swords ripped through the creature, and the child of the void wailed and vanished into a scattering of black smoke. A cold wind blew through the passageway, and a chorus of enraged whispers drifted from the walls.
Dozens of the children of the void boiled out of rifts that opened in the walls and floors. They burst from the holes in the ceiling, swarming in a tide of shadows and echoing whispers. A section of floor in the corridor ahead crumbled, and more creatures swarmed out, moving in a dark wave.
“Run!” said Arran. “Run! We must…”
Ally stepped past him, her teeth bared in a snarl. “No.”
She shouted a word and clapped her hands, and cold white flames erupted from the floor around her. The children of the void lunged for them, claws reaching. Arran yelled and raised his blades in parry.
Ally snarled and spread her hands. White fire blasted out from her palms and lanced into the children of the void. A chorus of whispered shrieks echoed off the ceiling. The fire blasted through their ranks like an avalanche of light, and clouds of black smoke billowed up.
“Profane my mother’s image?” said Ally. “Then perish, all of you. Perish!” The white fire blazed brighter and then winked out. Only a few of the children of the void remained, fleeing into the holes and down the corridors.
Silence returned to the Tower of Endless World.
Ally closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath.
“That was astonishing,” said Arran. “You destroyed them with such ease.”
Ally snorted. “That was hardly easy. And it matters not. I could destroy a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand. Countless billions more are waiting to take their place.”
“They will return,” said Arran.
Ally shook her head. “They will not, unless Marugon calls them. Why face annihilation at my hands, when they need only wait for the Tower to fall?”
“I’m sorry,” said Lithon, looking at the cracked floor. “I almost got us all killed.” He sniffled. “It’s just…she…it looked just like Mom.”
“There is no reason for guilt,” said Arran. “It is a cruel deception.”
“And I, too, thought it was Mom,” said Ally. “Only for a second, since the white magic let me see past the illusion. But…I had dreamed of seeing her or Dad one last time…” She shook her head. “No. We can speak of this later. We must keep going.”
They hurried on through the corridors of the Tower.
###
Ally kept jogging, Arran and Lithon besides her. She had been running for hours, or days, or weeks. She could not have said. Time meant very nothing in the Tower of Endless Worlds. And because of that, she did not grow tired, nor did her muscles ache from the exertion. The vast vaulted corridor stretched ever on before her, an unreachable green glow shining deep its depths. Endless bas-reliefs rolled past, scenes of distant and alien worlds. Pillars the size of small skyscrapers stood like silent stone giants.
“We aren’t going to catch him, are we?” said Lithon.
“We may yet,” said Ally. “He was only a few moments ahead of us.”
“And how long does it take to set off a nuclear device?” Arran’s scabbards tapped against his legs with every running step.
“I do not know,” said Ally. “Not long.”
“Wycliffe may have been lying,” said Arran.
“He wasn’t,” said Ally, amazed at how her heartbeat remained slow and steady. “He was filled with deception. But he dared not lie to me.”
But she could not shake her growing fear. Even with only a few minutes, Marugon could have gained a long lead. And suppose he knew a shorter path to the Chamber of the Great Seal? He might even stand atop the Great Seal even now, the destruction of all the mortal worlds in his hands.
“We shall catch him,” said Ally.
Gray mist swirled before them.
Ally skidded to a halt, her hand coming up in the beginnings of a spell. The gray mist thickened, a shape growing. It resolved into an enormous skeleton draped in ragged gray robes, green light glimmering in its empty eyes. Ally stared at the figure, probing it with her magical senses. It seemed a manifestation of the magical power that bound the Tower…
“No.” Arran took her arm. “It’s…it’s not a friend, not exactly, but it will not hurt us, unless we give it cause.”
“Arran Belphon.” The robed form’s whispery voice echoed through Ally’s skull. “Lithon Scepteris.” Even as she watched it seemed to flow between the forms of gray mist, a robed shape, and a giant skeleton. “And you who are three.”
“This is the caretaker you told me about, isn’t it?” said Ally. Arran nodded. “The caretaker of the Chamber of the Dead.” She faced the specter. “Why do you call me three?”
“Your nature is now clear to me,” said the caretaker. It pointed a skeletal finger at her. “For you bear a threefold name. You are Allara Marentine. You are Ally Wester.
You are Alastarius. It is given to me to know the names of all the mortals within the Tower. Yet your nature was hidden from me, for it was hidden from you.”
“What do you wish of us?” said Ally. “We do not have time to linger. We must find…”
“The Marr’Ugaoun,” said the caretaker. “The Destroyer of Worlds. You seek him.”
“He has entered the Tower to destroy it,” said Ally. A notion occurred to her. “Can you aid us against him? For if the Tower falls, than you shall surely perish as well.”
“Your concerns are meaningless to me. It is not my task to defend the Tower,” said the caretaker, shifting into gray mist. “It is my task to gather the mortal dead who fall within the Tower, to lay them to rest within the Chamber of the Dead. That is the task given me by the Divine, long before mortals ever walked the corridors of the Tower.”
“Then are there others of your kind, your order?” said Ally. “Spirits tasked to defend the Tower?”
Something like a sigh rippled from the caretaker’s robes. “There were, long ago, longer than mortals can count. Some were given the power to guard. Others to rebuild. They faded away, slowly. Others were derelict in their duty, the sacred task given them by the Divine. Now am I all that remains. But that is meaningless. It is my task to gather the dead.”
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?”<
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“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.”
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