by Lyndon Hardy
Astron ducked away from the searing rays, scrambled over the body of another fallen demon, and reached Elezar’s cushion that had been hastily kicked aside. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the figure of the prince, outlined against the fierce glow, blocking bolts of energy with his own and yelling commands to his guards above the din.
Astron scrambled around the periphery of the hub to where the shield demons sprawled in disarray. Their opaque screens had dissolved but the squat demons were too slow-witted to do more than move a few feet from where they had originally stood.
“Form your barriers,” Astron shouted to the one closest. “The prince commands and needs your aid.”
The nearest shield demon grunted. The space between him and Astron began to fog as it had before.
“Faster,” Astron commanded, looking over his shoulder to verify that Elezar and his retinue still stood their ground. “And make it horizontal, directly on top of your head.”
The forming barrier began to tip toward the ceiling and Astron scrambled aside to instruct the next in line. As he did, one of Gaspar’s lieutenants saw the activity, broke off his engagement with four lesser demons, and dove to the attack. Astron saw the djinn fold his wings and dive. As pulses of energy leaped from outstretched fingers, Astron sprawled flat on the rotunda floor, feeling waves of heat roar past his head. He looked up to see the djinn swoop on by and then turn to attack a second time. Astron rose to his knees and scrambled beside the shield demon constructing his screen. The next volley spattered harmlessly from the thickening barrier as the djinn roared overhead.
Astron quickly instructed the other three shield demons that remained alive. Before the djinn could attack again, he was safely inside a box with an open bottom resting on the rotunda floor. The attacking demon released three bolts in frustrated fury, then turned his attention back to Elezar and the few remaining guards that still stood hovering over their prince.
With the attention temporarily diverted, Astron rearranged the positions of the shield demons, rotating their opaque planes until they too were inside the protective enclosure they had created.
“Now, in unison, toward the hub,” he commanded. “First the left foot and then the right.” The strange mechanical way that men used to move in synchronization was proving to be a most useful piece of information.
The shield demons lumbered forward, their barriers bouncing and banging against one another as they moved. The seals between the edges did not remain perfect and backwashes of energy spilled inside to carom about the interior. Astron danced about to avoid the stray ricochets while he directed the demons forward, concentrating intently on how many steps to take before he reached the vicinity of Elezar and his guards.
After a dozen steps, he commanded a halt and then directed the demons controlling the shield nearest the hub to rotate his barrier floorward. Astron threw his arm in front of his eyes and looked out of the enclosure. He saw Elezar down on one knee, his right arm grasping the other near the elbow. The prince’s face was frozen in a mask of pain as he steadied himself among the dead and dying at his feet. Two remaining guards stood on unsteady limbs between Elezar and three towering lightning djinns. Behind them all, Astron heard Gaspar’s booming laugh as he urged his minions on against the other devils who flitted about the huge hall.
“Quickly, my prince, you need shelter to compose your thoughts,” Astron shouted as he darted out from the protecting shields. He side-stepped a spent pulse of energy and stumbled over smoking cushions to Elezar’s side.
Elezar turned slowly as he approached, released his injured arm and prepared to defend against the new attack as best he could.
“No, it is the one who walks,” Astron said. “Command those that you can into the shelter.”
Three more bolts of plasma screamed overhead. One of the remaining guards reeled backward, clutching his shoulder and vainly trying to stop the flow of green ichor from a gaping wound. Astron shoved away the reluctance coursing up from his stembrain and did what he had never dared before. He touched Elezar’s extended hand, wincing as much from the thought of contact as from the prickles of pain created by the sparks that ran along the prince’s palm.
Elezar’s eyes flared momentarily at the familiarity, but then in resignation stumbled backward with the tug. With his injured arm he somehow waved others to follow. In a rush, all of the nearby imps, sprites, devils, and demons abandoned their defenses and scrambled after the prince.
Astron heard Gaspar’s roar as he realized what was happening. “After Elezar,” the lightning djinn shouted. “Ignore the lesser devils; we can make game with them at our leisure. Focus your energies. Stop the one who dares to call himself prince.”
Bolts of plasma lanced into the protective enclosure as Astron and the others tumbled under the upraised barrier. Shouts of agony echoed through the air. Astron felt sprays of wet stickiness on his back as he directed the shield demon to drop the open side back into place.
When the panel sealed with the others, the scene momentarily plunged into near darkness. Except for a rumble transmitted through the floor, the sounds of battle faded away. Then, just as suddenly, the top of the enclosure blazed with light, a diffuse glow that spread outward from a focus and slopped over the edges of the plane. The pulse decayed, but it was immediately followed by a pair and then a half dozen or more as Gaspar’s djinns converged to attack.
The shield demons inside of the protection were undisturbed by the onslaught, however. The plane pulsed and glowed, but except for the inwelling light, they deflected the energies away.
Astron saw the bursts of energy move methodically from the top panel to the one nearest the hub and then around to the others. Gaspar was testing each one in the hopes of finding a weakness in the defense. But all the shields held, each as well as the next.
Astron felt his stembrain retreat backward from his conscious thoughts. Elezar could not hold out forever within the confines of the box. Eventually Gaspar would think to attack from underneath the thin flooring upon which there was no shield. But at least it bought some time for the prince to think and plan a counterthrust in conditions that were more favorable. In the diffuse darkness, he groped to find Elezar and tell him of what he had learned in Palodad’s lair.
CHAPTER FIVE
Through the Flame
“SO even Palodad did not know the answer,” Elezar whispered through pain-clenched teeth when Astron had finished reporting on his trip to the old one’s domain. “All that he can offer is the direction in which to look and verification of what is found in exchange for some exotic form of matter. It makes how the likes of Gaspar came upon the conundrum much more a riddle of its own.”
Astron shifted uncomfortably. He had little room, sandwiched between the legs of a stonesprite and with his back pressed against the barbed wings of a messenger djinn. Elezar’s ability to force aside the distractions of pain, the bursts of light, and what was happening outside of their enclosure might indeed be the necessary talent of a prince, but it was disconcerting, nevertheless.
The assault of energy against the barriers of the shield demons had continued unabated while Astron had informed the prince. In dim outlines, he caught glimpses of the destruction of the rotunda and several of the other domes beyond. Muted cries filtered through even the thickness of the woven walls as more and more of Elezar’s followers were routed out of their hiding places and made the sport of the lightning djinn’s lust for battle and destruction. Soon all the rest would be gone, and the attention of every demon that Gaspar commanded would be turned to the box that sat on the rotunda floor.
“How Gaspar possessed the riddle is of little enough consequence,” Astron said quickly. “And since you struck the first blow, the lightning djinn will feel justified in his destructions, whether you can solve his puzzle or not.”
“The key is the disposition of the other princes who rule.” Elezar weakly shook his head. “If I can get word to enough of them undetected, then sufficient might can b
e marshalled to drive Gaspar from my domain. And once he is removed, the others will judge what he has already done to be sufficient compensation for my momentary indiscretion. He will be able to unleash his will again only if I indeed fail to present to him a satisfactory solution to the riddle.”
All four sides of the enclosure flashed in unison. The flooring shook with a great spasm. Astron heard a prolonged rumble and images of falling spires filled his mind.
“All that you suggest will take time,” Astron said. “The aid I have rendered is at best only temporary.” Already his feeling of accomplishment was fading. The baser emotions of his stembrain had begun to reassert themselves again. “Would it not be better now to focus on Gaspar’s immediate threat to your well-being?”
“I must go by stealth to another node in the realm.” Elezar ignored Astron’s words. “One that is dark and not the lair of any demon of power. From there, I can dispatch my messengers while Gaspar dissipates his energy with fruitless destruction here.”
“But how will you journey there?” Astron asked. “Not—not all of your present retinue are winged. The few djinns here cannot carry us all.”
“Do not despair, walking one,” Elezar whispered. “You still possess value. I would rather you not be wasted as some lowly imp. Look at those crowded about you. You are the only one with more than a feeble bulb of pulp riding atop his stembrain.” The prince paused and then reached out and squeezed Astron’s wrist. “Your mission is a different one, cataloguer, and I bid you to begin it now. It is with you that I must entrust the quest for the answer to Gaspar’s riddle. You are the one to bring true flame into the realm of daemon.”
Astron’s feelings bubbled. It had been quite enough to visit Palodad’s lair once. He had returned with what he could and had saved, at least temporarily, the prince as well. What more reasonably could be asked of one such as he?
His stembrain forced him to look through the translucence of the barriers, to estimate his chances to skitter away while Gaspar and the others concentrated on more important targets. But even if he escaped safely, what if Prince Elezar then fell? What then would be the demands of duty? What reason would there be for the existence of a cataloguer? Would there be any other prince who would appreciate the value of one who only studied the puzzling details of other realms?
The shriek and tear of matter from outside the barriers pushed its way into his thoughts. Astron shook his head. The speculation was not the substance of a true riddle. There could be no other choice.
“When Gaspar finally breaks through, be sure to command a djinn to return me to Palodad’s lair,” Astron said at last. “I will tell him that you agree and find out in which realm the search is to be conducted.”
“No, no, not Palodad,” Elezar whispered hoarsely. “As the old one said, you will need the aid of a being from outside of our realm. A strong one with great will and equal to the task. You must find him first so that you will be ready.”
“But where—”
“From the realm of men. You must go through the flame first to the realm of men. Dominate whomever you contact and instruct that one to carry you to Alodar, the archimage. Only he will have the wisdom to decide and choose among his minions the one best for the quest. Have the archimage contact me back through the flame so that we can agree on his succor and aid.”
“The archimage,” Astron said. “He is the one among men who has mastered all five of the mortal magics—indeed the only one to bring a demon such as yourself—”
“That is why you must link minds with another mortal,” Elezar said, “someone with lesser strength or will whose mind you can control. Use the one you dominate to guide you to the archimage. Then you can converse with him with your own faculties intact, rather than wrestle to speak freely while under his power.”
Astron started to say more, then thought better of it. The groan of twisting matter and flashes of crackling plasma had intensified rather than abated. It would not be long before Gaspar, even in his rage, deduced how to renew his attack on Elezar. His decision had been made. No time must be wasted to ponder it more. If Elezar commanded him elsewhere, then he would go. He must make contact with a mind that at that very moment was probing into the realm—make contact and hope that his will would be the stronger.
Astron twisted into a comfortable position as best he could and fought to push the light and sound out of his thoughts. He breathed deeply—a curious practice he had noticed in the realm of men—but it helped no more than it ever had before. With his membranes down, he tried to image the emptiness of his own surroundings, vast expanses of black desert sprinkled with rare oases of matter.
His thoughts soared as his body could not, past glittering lairs swarming with imps, feebly glowing fortresses of devils who no longer cared, and dark nodes unclaimed by any prince. Astron imagined himself in total darkness, undistracted by anything in his realm, his mind blank and open to the tendrils of thought that pierced through the barrier from beings on the other side.
He willed his mind to stillness, but even his stembrain knew that he must be careful, avoiding the lures that were the most tempting. As Elezar had said, he could ill afford a struggle with a wizard of great strength. The law of dichotomy admitted no middle outcome. When contact was made, one of the beings would dominate and the other must submit.
And yet it would serve no purpose for the battle to be an easy one. Control of the likes of a mere serving girl did not provide the means to gain audience with the archimage of men. No, the linking of minds must be chosen to be precisely correct, a grapple with a being of some will and hence possessor of power, a being of consequence but not so great that Astron would find himself the one dominated as the final connection was made.
Astron gingerly tested one probe and then quickly flitted to another. For a mere instant, he saw a vision of dancing flame and behind it some gnarled wizard pushing with his thoughts and daring mighty djinns to accept his challenge. Astron felt his way past a dozen more, retreating from most with haste and discarding the rest as not worthy of even such a demon as he.
Finally he touched upon one different from the rest—a being of inner strength, but also with a softness that perhaps could be molded to his desire. Astron tentatively let his own mind engage the tendrils of beckoning thought. He felt the essence of his being coil like smoke and intertwine with the wisps reaching out for him. First at a single point, then rapidly with many others, the two minds meshed and flowed into one another, preparing for the struggle that was soon to come.
It was a female, he realized with a shock as the intimacy increased—a female and yet a wizard nonetheless. He felt her flow of will begin to stiffen and push back against his own thoughts as he tried to maneuver them so that they surrounded and confined. Astron increased his concentration, imagining strong sinewy vines looping through a flimsy trellis and pulling it to ground. His hands tightened into fists. The muscles in his back bunched in bulging contractions on his slight frame.
He perceived more of the universe that was joined through the flame, a pentagram of chalk, the wizard in dark robes staring into a firepit cut through a planked floor, and the strong odors of aromatic woods. Behind her was another, a dark-headed man with deep-set eyes of gray, his furrowed brow beaded with sweat as he watched the struggle unfold.
Astron felt the interlocking thoughts lose all their pliancy, congealing first into stiff ropes and then bands of steel. At every juncture where they crossed his own, there was a sudden tugging, an urging to push through the barrier and travel from one realm to another.
Astron set his teeth and pushed out with his arms against the protecting walls of the shield demons. He wanted to vault through the flame into the other world, it was true, but only as he willed it, a master of the one who beckoned, rather than as her slave.
The floor suddenly buckled and then spattered upward sprays of molten metal. Two of the lesser imps a few feet away from where Astron struggled screamed in pain as a ball of pulsing plasma to
re through from underneath and bathed them in its destruction. A gaping hole fizzed and steamed where moments before had been a plane of matter.
“Demons, surround your prince,” Astron heard Elezar call out. “Guard the portal so that the lightning djinns do not pass.”
“Let none escape,” Gaspar answered. “We will catch and then fry them all. Pursue them no matter where they flee. I will boil Elezar and his minions, even if they vanish to another realm.”
Astron was only dimly aware of the scramble among the devils and sprites who had sought the refuge with his prince. He struggled to concentrate on his own battle and strained to buckle the resistance to his thoughts.
He heard another loud crash that shook all of Elezar’s domain with a shudder. The flooring split asunder, disintegrating into disconnected platelets of twisted matter. Astron felt the support of the shield demons tumble away and then a sense of falling into the emptiness of the realm.
“Yield,” he shouted across the barrier as he fell, “yield to him who is the stronger.” In desperation he pounded his clenched fists to his chest and strained with a final gasp to end the struggle with the wizard.
The inky blackness exploded with painful light. A stab of singeing heat rolled across his back. He heard death cries barely a span away. The panic building in his stembrain pushed against its restraints. If Elezar lost now, what could his quest matter? It would only be a question of time before Gaspar’s lieutenants hunted him down for a far more ignoble death.
But just as he prepared to relax his straining will and submit to his fate, he felt a reduction of the tension and then a sudden collapse of resistance to his thoughts.
“I am yours to command, master,” a voice said in his head. Astron did not bother for one final look to see how those around him fared. With single-minded dedication, he thrust himself through the barrier into the realm of men.