by Неизвестный
But if Krek was unable to move, Broit Heresler and his few surviving clansmen did act. They rushed into the chamber, spades and picks cutting and hacking at the leg. The limb tried valiantly to defend itself against the tiny chunks being taken out of it, but there were too many gnomes attacking.
Claybore cursed, tried to blast the gnomes, and found himself overextended. He dared not relent in his attack on Lan; to do so meant his own demise. But he needed his leg and the gnomes prevented it from rejoining him.
" Bring out the water," Broit called. Others of the grave- digger clan rolled huge barrels into the room.
" You can' t do that!" shrieked Claybore.
They threw the acid rainwater onto the leg. Flesh smoldered and turned putrescent. Soon, only the bare leg bones remained, and they were easily hammered into dust by the gnomes.
" You' ve lost, Claybore," said Lan. " Stop your drive for power now. We can work out some sort of truce."
" Truce? You fool! You don' t understand. I' ve tasted ultimate power. I can' t turn away from it. I can' t share it."
The sorcerer lay in a heap on the ground, his metallic legs destroyed and his own legs unreachable now. Lan Martak had magically blasted the right leg and the left was little more than bonemeal in a paste of acid water on the floor.
Claybore reached up and touched the spot on his chest where the Kinetic Sphere pinkly pulsed.
" You will find this victory fleeting, Martak," promised Claybore. The sorcerer' s entire body blinked out of existence.
" You killed him!" cried Broit Heresler, jumping up and down.
" He shifted worlds," Lan said in a tired voice. " We stopped him from regaining either of his legs, but he still walks the Road, plotting and planning."
A strangled sound came to the mage' s ears. Lan spun and saw Inyx with her fingers firmly wrapped around Kiska' s throat. The darkhaired woman slowly choked the life from her victim.
" Inyx, no!" he cried. Ducasien placed a hand on Lan' s shoulder to restrain him. Lan cast a minor spell that hurled Ducasien across the room. A second spell sent Inyx after him, leaving Kiska alone and gasping for air on the floor. He went to her and knelt, cradling her head in his lap.
Emotions boiled within him. He hated her for all she had done. She was insane, a cold- blooded murderer. And he loved her. He had to protect her at all costs.
" Lan Martak," came Krek' s voice, " she attempted to stab you in the back. You saw. You know of her treachery."
" I love her," he choked out. His heart leaped with joy when he saw her pale brown eyes flicker open and focus on him. Lan read only hatred blazing up at him and it didn' t matter. He loved her.
" Claybore has cast some sort of geas on you," said Krek.
" Examine yourself, Lan Martak, or beware."
Lan Martak looked up at the spider, not understanding.
" Friend Ducasien, do you mind if I accompany you?" asked Krek.
" You' re not staying with him?" asked Inyx.
" I have decided that it is impossible for me to bear his silliness any further," said Krek, a tear forming in his eye. " You are my friends. No longer can I name Lan Martak that."
Inyx rubbed a spot on Krek' s leg and said, " You can come along. We don' t know exactly where we' re headed, but it has to be a place better than this."
The plains stretching out from the foot of Yerrary were wracked with winds and the acid rain pelted down, forming tiny blazes wherever it touched. Broit Heresler and several of his gravediggers were escorting them to the graveyard. With Claybore driven off and the Tefize clan leaderless, Broit had stepped into the power vacuum and assumed control of most of the inner workings of Yerrary.
" It is a duty I take seriously," the gnome declared. " Imagine the bodies to be buried. Yerrary will function as it never has before!" His clan had cheered this, but Inyx found scant pleasure in it.
Lan Martak insisted on pursuing Claybore. She agreed with that. She couldn' t force herself to accompany the man any further as long as he insisted on keeping Kiska k’ Adesina by his side.
" It is a spell of subtle power," said Krek, seeing her frown. " But it is one I cannot cope with, either."
She hugged Krek' s leg and then turned. Ducasien waited just outside the doorway. They began their trek across the plains for the cenotaphs opening and closing in the graveyard. Inyx didn' t know what world they would end up on. And it didn' t matter.
Halfway to the grave site she turned and looked back at the black mass of Yerrary. A small figure stood atop the mountain, bathed in white fire. She lifted her hand, started to wave, then jerked around. Even if Lan watched, it was a show of weakness to make any gesture.
" You still love him, don' t you?" asked Ducasien.
" No."
" You don' t lie well," the man said. He looked toward Yerrary and the white pillar of fire, heaved a sigh, and then hugged Inyx close. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed quietly.
" A cenotaph opens," said Krek, pointing with one of his back legs. The spider watched the two humans enter and wink out of existence on this world and go to another. He nodded to Broit Heresler, then climbed into the cenotaph and followed his friends. Somehow, the shifting from one world to another didn' t ease the pain or remove the tears forming in the spider' s huge eyes.
The last thing he heard was the sound of Broit Heresler' s picks working on the stony ground to dig new graves.
" Good riddance," snarled Kiska k' Adesina. She stood close beside Lan Martak on the mountaintop. The circle of energy surrounding them held the acid rain and the mind- altering fog at bay. Lan had had enough experience with both and knew better than to tempt fate without magical protection.
The tiny procession wended its way across the barren plain to the graveyard. Lan watched and felt a coldness inside grow until he wanted to scream. Inyx gone. Krek gone.
He clenched his fists and shook with emotion.
" You don' t need them. You have me. What were they, anyhow? A slut and an overgrown bug. You love me, Lan my darling. We can rule together."
" Be quiet," he said. Kiska only laughed at him, knowing his impotence in dealing with her.
The cenotaph blinked open. Lan watched the magics that linked one world to another begin to flow. First one brighter spot, then another and finally a third and last. Inyx. Ducasien. Krek. Gone.
All that remained on this world was the burning ground where the rains washed over the stone.
" Claybore must be destroyed," he said.
" Yes, my love," came Kiska' s mocking words.
Lan Martak clapped his hands and summoned his newfound power to shift worlds without a cenotaph or the Kinetic Sphere. He didn' t need Inyx or Krek. Claybore would be stopped.
A second clap of his hands prepared the world- spanning bridge of magic.
He would stop Claybore and rule a million worlds.
On the third clap of his hands, only barren rock remained where he and Kiska had stood. They now walked a lush, green meadow on a world distant in space and time.
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