World of Mazes cr-3

by Неизвестный

  He, more than any other single factor, had been responsible for the Lord' s empire crumbling. Without his magical sense Claybore' s body artifact wouldn' t have been destroyed; the geas that formed the Lord' s power core in the Twistings had been permanently removed from the struggle. Oh, yes, definitely, the Lord would be waiting for him to make a mistake.

  " Use your cylinders against that part of the wall," Lan ordered. The mechanicals stared at him, then at one another. He was a human, no matter that Knoton tacitly approved of his continued life, and not to be trusted. " Do it. Now!" he roared.

  The snap in his voice caused many to lift their weapons and fire. As the lightning cracks of energy smashed into the wall, Lan stepped back and waited. Less than five seconds elapsed before the wall fell in, exposing the soldiers.

  " Krek," he said softly. " Ask the soldiers to surrender. Use your loudest voice."

  The spider obeyed. His voice thundered forth. The sight of the tall mountain arachnid did much to demoralize the soldiers. Whether this was illusion or reality made no difference.

  " Surrender!" Krek bellowed. And the soldiers quietly surrendered.

  Inyx came to Lan and put her arm around him. He shook in reaction to the anticlimactic battle. The army of mechanicals surged forward and took prisoners rather than leaving corpses. Their reason for slaughter had been circumvented.

  " Knoton?" called Lan. The set of the mech leader' s head told him all he needed to know.

  Alberto Silvain had not been in the room. And the Lord of the Twistings remained free in the palace. This battle had been relatively bloodless. The one to come- with Silvain and the Lord- wouldn' t be carried off so easily.

  He sagged and let Inyx help him to a chair for some well- deserved rest.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  " A cenotaph opens," said Krek. " Very near. I feel it."

  " So do I," said Lan. " And it just closed. I don' t think Silvain escaped through it. I didn' t have any ' feel' of it being used to move from this world to another."

  " There are others nearby," the spider pointed out. " I cannot tell when they will activate."

  " Let' s not worry about that," Inyx said with feeling. " I want Alberto Silvain, but I want the Lord of the Twistings even more."

  Lan Martak closed his eyes and let his senses tell him where the Lord was. The grey- clads had mostly surrendered. The few pockets of resistance faded as more and more of the mechanicals and others of the palace staff joined the battle. Word of the revolt would soon spread to the city and bring about unforeseen consequences. Lan had no idea how the populace of Dicca might respond to having their elected leader overthrown. After all, the Lord did deliver first- quality illusions, and the people of this city lived for their fantasy.

  Still, a civil war raged outside. He' d seen rebel howlers battling against the greys. That meant support for this palace revolt existed.

  " He' s returned to his playroom, as you called it, Inyx. He is working spells I can' t begin to understand, but they are potent ones." Lan opened his eyes and twisted his head so that he could see Krek. Human and spider locked gazes for a moment. Krek finally bobbed his head in silent, reluctant agreement that he would do as Lan wished.

  " I' ll take him now," the woman declared. She hefted both of the death tubes and started for the room. Inyx hadn' t gone five paces before a silken strand of web tangled her feet. She turned, sat down hard. An unbelieving look on her face, the dark- haired woman started to protest. Another gout of web- stuff circled her at the shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides. Still another closed off any protests.

  " I do not like this, friend Lan Martak," complained the spider.

  " It' s got to be done. She wouldn' t stand for a second against him. Not with the spells he' s conjuring."

  " Do you need my aid?"

  " Thanks, old spider. This is one battle that has to be fought alone." Lan walked off, trying not to look at Inyx. He failed in this. He went to her, whispered in her ear. " He' s a mage. I' m the only one here who has the slightest chance of defeating him." He kissed her. Inyx' s eyes glared hot and blue at him.

  It didn' t make walking into the playroom any easier.

  Lan had never felt more alone. Tired from his exertions in the Twistings, he barely held on to the control spells he needed for forging his defenses, his attacks. Krek and Inyx had to remain behind; in the battle he dared not have them in danger. The Lord would use them against him if at all possible. He had to maintain complete concentration, without worry for his friends' safety, or he would definitely fail.

  But he was tired, so tired. Exhaustion worked on his body as if he carried a ton of lead. Even the shoulder that had sustained the mechanical' s dart ached, and that wound had long since healed.

  " Don' t make this any harder," he called out. " Surrender. Let the citizens elect a new Lord of the Twistings."

  " A new Lord?" came the hysterical reply. " A new one? I' m the only Lord they need. I give them all the illusion their small minds can handle. I present epics for their amusements. I keep them happy. Why should they replace me?"

  " The Twistings is no more. Your political prison is gone. I might be able to keep the mechanicals from killing you, though why I should try is beyond me. Maybe it' s because you' re human, too."

  " Human? I' m more than human. I' m Lord!"

  Lan edged into the room. The cubes of mazes filled almost every possible area, the path between them forming a maze of its own. Lan peered into the glass cubes as he penetrated further into the Lord' s last bastion. Tiny people stared out, imploring, sobbing. They knew that their freedom depended on the outcome of this magical battle. They knew Lan wanted their freedom.

  Lan' s mouth turned dry from nerves. The air felt moist about him, almost as if he walked on an ocean bottom. As he moved, it changed until he felt as if he swam through a sponge. The denseness meant a spell working against him- and one he didn' t understand. His hand rested lightly on the leather- bound grimoire he' d been given. To have had time to master the spells in it! To have mastered just a few:

  " You are the one who released them from the Twistings. How did you do it? Why did you do it?"

  " You know why." Lan moved through the room until he came to one wall. He guessed the Lord stayed near his newest concoctions, possibly drawing power from those mazes holding trapped humanity. " Claybore wants to take over every world along the Cenotaph Road. He' s caused me enough grief that I have to oppose him."

  " But the Twistings!"

  " Your artifact generating the geas holding everyone inside the maze was a part of Claybore at one time. Destroying it prevents him from ever regaining his full power."

  Lan saw the Lord now. The man had changed into the fool' s costume. He cavorted and danced along one edge of a maze. Clutched to his chest was a pale blue book.

  " This is my finest maze," said the Lord. He sat on the edge of the cube, legs dangling and kicking. " And this is the plan for it. Oh, it is a good plan, too. I am astounded at my own brilliance. There are ever so many unique features inside."

  Had he gone over the edge into total insanity? Or was this some ploy to lull Lan into thinking him harmless?

  It didn' t matter. For what he had caused, the endless agony, the untold misery, he had to die. Insane or not, he had to be stopped from further treachery.

  Lan' s fire spell welled up, ran down the length of his arms, exploded from fingertips. The fat blue sparks arced forth to touch the Lord. Nothing happened. Lan built the energy again, this time releasing a titanic bolt of energy that should have destroyed half the palace. Nothing. The Lord turned, eyes wide and innocent, as if seeing Lan for the first time.

  " Why do you want to hurt me?" he asked.

  The power he controlled was immense, and Lan felt his own powers weakening perceptibly.

  " Give up to Knoton and the others," said Lan. His voice trembled from the strain. If the fire spell didn' t work, he had to try another. But what?

  The answer was given
to him. Defense. The Lord laid down the book of blueprints and clapped his hands. Lan was driven to his knees by the pile- driver force hitting him. He turned his full attention to defense, erecting a protective barrier of his own. Blow after blow smashed into his body. He tried to deflect the force, to deny it, to counter it. All attempts failed. He felt as if he were being turned into a jellyfish. Joints snapped and bones almost broke.

  Lan staggered forward. He had to stop the Lord. Now.

  " Why don' t you try out my brand- new maze? It' s a very clever one. Oh, yes, so very clever. Come, enter."

  Lan screamed as a powerful force swept him up and off his feet. He fell heavily beside the Lord, pinned down as if a dozen men sat on his chest. Then he began to sink through the surface of the cube. Watching, he saw the Lord grow in apparent size; he was being reduced and thrust into the cubic maze.

  " Yes, it is a nice maze. I have it all here. The only way to escape is written down in these plans. And they are very, very clever, oh so complex. I don' t even remember them all myself. Which is why I keep them written down." The Lord of the Twistings cackled demonically.

  And Lan experienced real pain.

  Every fiber of his body was pulled and strained to the utmost. It was as if he had been crushed in the jaws of a vise and jerked apart at the same time. He rolled, trying to dodge the red agony mounting inside and threatening to overwhelm him.

  As quickly as the pain had begun, it stopped. Gasping, on hands and knees, sweat pouring in rivers to puddle on the transparent floor, he tried to regain his senses.

  " That was merely the first trap set in my maze. There are others, ever so much nicer. Do trigger one of them. I wish to see how effective they are."

  Lan looked up. He felt as if he' d aged a hundred years in a few minutes. Without even casting any of his spells, he knew it was impossible to escape. The barriers between him and the Lord were enormous. He was caught forever in another maze.

  " You' re not playing with me. I don' t like that."

  The trapped man discovered what that displeasure could bring. Not more pain. Fear. Gut- wrenching fear. He shrieked and clawed at slick glass walls. Everything he' d ever been frightened of in his life came to him. The dark, soul- crushing absolute dark. Tight, closed- in places. Slithering noises coming up behind him. Blindness. Helplessness. He couldn' t see and he was trapped in a tight little box. Buried alive. Worms gnawing on his vitals, crawling through the empty sockets where his eyes had been. He clawed at his face, felt the flesh strip off under bloodied fingernails.

  He screamed until he was hoarse. And still he felt fear. Until the Lord paralyzed his legs.

  Lan fell forward, sobbing. The fear had vanished, but he was no longer able to walk.

  " These are just a few of the wonders awaiting you. Explore my maze. There are some parts inside I' m not even sure about. Those were potent spells, very potent. I may have created something even I can' t predict. Oh, isn' t this wonderful?"

  The Lord paced along the top of the cube, looking like a giant. At his feet, similarly huge, lay the book containing the operative spells. For Lan, an ocean might have separated him from the book. He could read the opened pages clearly- the printed letters were each larger than his hand. It did him no good.

  " I may seal you inside permanently. Wouldn' t that be nice? This is a special cube, oh, yes, very special. Time has no meaning in it. The stasis is one reason I have no clear idea what some of the spells actually do. This is ever so exciting."

  Lan held on to his panic. He doubted the Lord' s words about this being a stasis. Time flowed smoothly and at the same pace inside and out. Hearing the Lord' s words and comprehending them proved that. Hearing the Lord and Inyx' s voices:

  " Inyx!" he cried, struggling to sit up. " Stay away!"

  He heard her voice; he doubted she heard his- or would heed his warnings. She had come after the Lord, somehow escaping the silken bonds Krek had spun for her. Lan tried to warn her away, to tell her to run. All in vain. Now she, too, would join him in an eternity of misery running the glassy corridors of this sadistic maze.

  He looked up and saw two lightning spurts from death tubes strike the Lord. The sorcerer brushed such petty weapons aside.

  " Come, join your friend in my maze," the Lord greeted. " Come. No, don' t run. Don' t!"

  The Lord jumped down from the six- foot- high cube and pursued the woman. Lan flipped himself over, legs still paralyzed. But his eyes were keen and he read slowly through the spell in the book opened over his head. He studied it, puzzling over the strange terms. Then he realized the importance of the spell. The Lord had dropped the book face down and it had fallen open to the first page- the spell opening the maze cube was his.

  Lan began chanting slowly, trying to master the spell. In the back of his mind he saw the Lord capturing Inyx, thrusting her into another of the mazes, torturing her, performing obscene acts on her. He had to use all the discipline he' d learned to ignore those images. They were his imagination, not reality.

  He chanted faster. The syllables of the spell meant more to him. He struggled to sit up; the paralysis held him too firmly. He chanted faster, the meaning almost his. Then the pieces of the spell came together in his mind. It was as if he had thrust a key into a lock and turned it.

  The maze opened.

  For a split second.

  Lan laughed and cried in despair and hope. He' d been unable to keep the entry point open, but something as good as his escape had occurred. The spell book had fallen in and lay not a body' s length away. Painfully crawling, he used fingernails to claw into the slick glassy material. Progress was slow, too slow.

  What was happening in the room outside? Had the Lord caught Inyx? Lan Martak began uttering the strength- granting spells he had been taught by Abasi- Abi. He felt power flood into his body. The energy would last only a short while. Then he would collapse, possibly pass out, from the exertion.

  Reaching the spell book controlling this maze, Lan hurriedly riffled through the pages. The Lord had entered them in a very logical order; he may have been insane, but that didn' t prevent him from exhibiting impeccable logic. Lan studied, muttered the chants, got a feel for what must be done.

  " No!" came the female cry from outside. The Lord had captured Inyx. " You carrion eater! I' d spend a lifetime in the Twistings before-" The rest of Inyx' s words were cut off.

  Composure came upon the trapped man like water rising around his head. He immersed himself totally in the spell book.

  He gasped, staggered, and fell off the edge of the cube.

  Free!

  Free and past the point of exhaustion. Lan Martak had gotten out of the maze only to find himself on the verge of blacking out.

  " How did you escape?" demanded the Lord. He held a struggling Inyx with careless ease in one hand. Lan felt the magics that allowed this feat. The woman fought with the fury of a hundred trapped tigers. " Ah, yes, I see it now. Oh, you are a clever one. Yes, very clever. I see I' ll have to conjure open the maze again. This time you' ll both go in. Won' t that be nice, having a friend with you? And I suspect she' s more than a friend." He sniggered as he bent to pick up the fallen spell book controlling the maze.

  With contemptuous ease, the Lord picked up Lan and tossed him back onto the top of the maze. He dragged Inyx up and flung her down beside Lan. Lan gasped when he felt the ponderous weight descend on both of them, again holding them trapped.

  " Now I can start anew with my opening spell. It is a complex one, too. Never can quite get it straight. Ah, yes, here it is."

  The low, deep- throated chant began. Lan shook in impotent rage when he felt the hard surface of the maze cube begin to soften. In seconds he and Inyx would be cast into a pit worse than anything they' d encountered in the Twistings.

  " It' s open. And in you two go. Yes, in you goooooooo!"

  Lan watched in fascinated horror as the Lord tossed up his hands and lost his balance. He fell heavily, then slipped into the maze where he had inten
ded imprisoning them. Lan gasped when the crushing weight left his chest.

  " What happened?" he sobbed out. The Lord' s tiny face just inches away- and on the other side of the barrier- stared up in terror. " Why' d he slip like that?"

  " Humans are not as sure- footed as we mountain arachnids," came Krek' s calm voice. " I have said that repeatedly: eight legs are far better than two."

  Lan saw a weighty strand of web- stuff dangling over the edge of the cube. Krek had spat forth a gobbet, which had struck the Lord, unbalanced him, and cast him into the hell he' d created for others. Below, through the barrier, Lan saw the Lord blunder into the pain trap. No sound came. None was necessary to know the vicious, biting pain the man experienced.

  " He said that time was meaningless in this maze," said Inyx, her voice a monotone. " Is that true?"

  " I can' t say. Knowing his habits, I suspect that whoever' s trapped in the maze is immortal. In a way, that' s putting time in a bottle, a way of making time cease flowing." The Lord pushed past the pain trap and found a paralysis point embedded in a wall. His left arm hung limp. The panic on his face mounted.

  " I' d better get him out," said Lan. " He' s gone through enough."

  " He' s not gone through enough. Nor will he for centuries to come," said Inyx in that same shocky, emotionless voice. Lan sat up and saw that the woman held one of the death tubes.

  " You can' t reach him with that. The magic barriers forming this maze are impenetrable to physical attacks. Only one spell unlocks the entry point."

  " Good." This single word came laden with emotions: hatred, glee, triumph.