by Dan McGirt
“You are Jason Cosmo, the reincarnation of that earlier Jason Cosmo, who ended the Age of Empire. You trapped my Master in a prison from which he cannot escape until what you stole is restored. The Society has searched to the literal ends of the Earth seeking the wand and has found not a clue. Again, where is it?”
“I’ve never seen a Superwand in this life or any other! I’m not a reincarnation of—”
Agony again. He let me writhe and howl for almost a full minute before ending the pain. I hung in place limp and breathless, drenched with sweat.
“Do not lie to me. The equation is simple. I need the Superwand to free my Master so that he may reclaim his proper station. Your earlier incarnation hid the wand and the knowledge of its location must therefore be locked away in the depths of your pitiful mind. If it were not, the spineless godlings of Paradise would not have taken such futile pains to protect you. I will pry the information from you if I must strip away every shred of your sanity, every vestige of your humanity, every tender fragment of your soul. Where is the wand?”
“I… don’t…know.”
I blacked out this time. Nothing had changed when I came to and I had no idea how much time had passed.
“Potent as agony matrix is, you should know that it is the weakest of the persuasive devices in our Chamber of Damnation, for our Eufrosinia is most inventive. If it continues to prove ineffective, I shall order one of the truly unpleasant machines brought up. Now tell me where the wand is.”
“I can’t.” I braced myself for another blast of pain, but it didn’t come.
“I tire of this,” said Erimandras. “It is time for you to face my Master. We will then see if you continue to resist. Activate the mirror!”
The other wizards shifted nervously at this command. Before anything happened, however, the iron-riveted doors swung open and Natalia Slash entered, dragging Isogoras the Xornite behind her in chains. Both his legs seemed to be broken. The warrior woman halted before the thrones.
“Great Erimandras, as per the terms of our contract, I bring you Isogoras the Xornite.” She threw Isogoras to the floor.
“Ah, yes,” said Erimandras. “Your timing is somewhat inopportune, Lady Slash, but this gift is most welcome.” He regarded Isogoras coldly. “Xornite, you have repeatedly failed me. You were given the simple task of bringing a single man into our ranks, yet he consistently refused and eluded you. I then instructed you to eliminate him, and you failed in that. Furthermore, you twice had Cosmo within your grasp, and twice failed to capture him, so that he came into our power through his own folly whilst you thrashed futilely through the Incredibly Dark Forest ostensibly searching for him. I must wonder at such consistent incompetence. I must wonder if you are not in league with those traitors who dare defy me, whose guilt is made plainly evident by their absence today. Perhaps you are even their ringleader. Perhaps you would set yourself up as Overmaster in my place.”
“I heard him speak words to that effect,” said Natalia helpfully.
“Overmaster, she lies! I—”
“Silence! I did not give you leave to speak. There are no words of explanation or apology which can save you, so best to say nothing. I hired Lady Slash to keep an eye on you and bring you to me in chains once your treachery was apparent to her. She has done well and will be rewarded.” Erimandras paused. “Let the mirror now be activated—with the traitor as first sacrifice.”
“Overmaster! No!” Isogoras dragged himself towards the thrones, but Natalia yanked him back.
“You are warned once again to hold your tongue lest it be plucked from your mouth. You have failed in so much. Try not to fail in dying with dignity.”
Strong slaves in iron masks entered the chamber and poured vats of oil into the fire pit. A brand was lit and thrown in, lighting the fire. Split tongues of fire leaped high above the floor level and produced tremendous heat. I felt myself slowly roasting, though the members of the Ruling Conclave seemed unaffected by the heat.
Now the slaves lifted Isogoras from the floor and held him motionless at the edge of the pit. Sweat boiled from their bare chests and their skin blistered, but they were oblivious to it all. Isogoras whimpered.
“Now.” said Erimandras. They threw him in. He was engulfed by the flames before he landed amid the remains of the previous victims, his screams overwhelmed by their roar. The flames grew darker. The ghosts of victims past fled the chamber in horror.
“You may make payment to my account at the Bank of Caratha,” said Natalia, turning to leave.
“This shall be done, but stay awhile.”
“I must go. I have business to attend to.” Her back was to the Overmaster.
“I insist,” said Erimandras, his voice becoming hard. Natalia stiffened. “I will soon have a new mission for you.”
She turned to face him. “As you wish.”
The slaves brought in more sacrifices, starved and broken men, women, and children of every race and nation. All were hurled into the pit. Those that still had tongues screamed, but their screams availed them nothing. I wanted to turn my head, but it was braced in place, forcing me to watch this demonstration of the raw inhumanity of the Society. This was how life had been for all the world in the days of the Empire and how it would be again if the Society was triumphant. This was what The Gods had charged me to prevent.
But I could do nothing now. I was in their power, to be tortured and broken helplessly. Others would have to carry on the fight. All I could do was resolve to take my own life before I would do anything to help these butchers. And I was unable to do even that. Unbidden thoughts of Sapphrina filled my mind. I would miss her and what might have been.
With each sacrifice, the flames darkened, stained by innocent blood until they were as black as the bowels of midnight. At this point Erimandras stood. His throne and the pedestal on which it rested turned so that he faced the mirror. The black hellfire was reflected in the glass. He uttered an incantation that made those reflected flames grow until they filled the whole of the mirror. Then he began the summons. “Great Asmodraxas, Lord among Lords, King of the Hells, Sweet Prince of Darkness, Dire Master of the Profane, Author of Dread—heed thou the summons of thy servant Erimandras! Thine enemy is now in thy power and the day of thy liberty close at hand!”
The flames in the mirror warped and twisted until they formed a gigantic face, a visage at once beautiful and terrible, inspiring both loathing and love, both a desire to fall down in adoration and to flee in abject fear. The members of the Ruling Conclave bowed their heads. Some trembled. Natalia looked away. The slaves continued their gruesome chore.
The deposed Demon Lord spoke and his voice soothed and stabbed my very soul with its bewitching brutality. “I see you, Cosmo, most hated of foes. I have long waited for this moment, to see you broken and beaten before me, to extract my vengeance for the bitter cup of defeat you hurled in my face so long ago.”
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said.
“I know you, Cosmo. I know the outlines of your form, the flavor of your will, the scent of your putridly courageous soul. It is you, Cosmo. You are the one who took from me my dominion and the emblem of that dominion. You are the one who trapped me in this null space where I can neither create nor destroy, where there is nothing to corrupt, no one to rule, and no means of escape. Alone and near madness I endured here for an eternity, unable to perform any act until my servant Erimandras devised this magic mirror as a means of communicating with me and begged for my wisdom. I have guided him in closing the fist of the Society around total victory. I commanded him to cease the fruitless search for my stolen Superwand and instead find the worm who stole it. I knew your spirit would endure in the world, ever fearful of my return.”
“I am not the Jason Cosmo you knew. I bear his name, but that is all. Mere coincidence. I don’t know anything about wands or null spaces. You have the wrong man.”
“You are the one. You will reveal the Superwand to Erimandras that he may use it to free me
. Then I will be restored to my former glory and I will crush you and the pathetic godlings you serve beneath my iron heel. Erimandras, you may proceed.”
“Yes, O Dark One. Let the perilous pulp-grinder be brought forth!”
That didn’t sound promising. I offered up a desperate prayer to The Gods for a miracle. I figured they owed me at least one since they were largely responsible for my being in this situation. Even a slim chance of escape would satisfy me. I could do the rest. But my prayer brought no immediate response, no thunder in the heavens, no splitting asunder of the earth beneath me.
As slaves hurried to carry out the Overmaster’s command, a messenger rushed breathlessly into the chamber and threw himself before the Ruling Conclave.
“Great Ones, I beg to report that the hill rabble have been pushed back from the gates by the spells of the lesser mages, yet the battle madness is upon them and they gather for yet another assault.”
“The news you bring does not justify this interruption. Our mages are naturally slaughtering the barbarian scum. I have commanded that it be so. And they will continue until the gray-skinned animals are exterminated. You will not disturb me with such trifles again. Throw him in the pit!”
The iron-masked slaves hastened to obey. The ill-fated messenger struggled weakly, but to no avail. He was instantly incinerated.
A second messenger arrived as the slaves set up the perilous pulp grinder, a massive collection of gears, belts, and jagged metal teeth.
“Great Ones, I beg to report that the library is in flames.”
“Impossible!” said Erimandras.
“The protective anti-magic field was deactivated during the capture of Jason Cosmo, Great Ones, and was not reset. Evidently the other intruder, Mercury Boltblaster, succeeded in starting the blaze.”
“Why was he allowed to live?” stormed Erimandras at the cowering Eufrosinia.
“Overmaster, I hastened to bring Cosmo to you and commanded the guards and lesser mages to locate Boltblaster. It is they who have failed you. I—”
“Silence! Find him! All of you—save Lady Slash! He must pay most dearly for this outrage!” The twelve sitting members of the Ruling Conclave rose and rushed from the chamber with disturbing eagerness. A dozen arcane masters, scores of lesser mages, and many slaves and guards beside—if Merc was still alive, the odds did not favor his staying that way for long.
We were crazy to have come here, to have thought we could have ever pulled it off. The Society was just too powerful, had too many resources at its command.
Erimandras shook his head in dismay when his fellow wizards were gone. “The library is our most precious resource. All our worldwide schemes will be disrupted if it is destroyed.”
“Do not concern yourself with these lesser matters,” admonished Asmodraxas. “Once we wring the location of the Superwand from Cosmo, books and records will not matter.”
“You are correct, O Master.” The Overmaster quickly regained his composure. By this time the slaves had transferred me from the agony matrix to the pulp-grinder. I was fastened to a conveyer belt by three thick leather straps across my chest, waist, and thighs. “This device will grind your body into an undifferentiated mass of bloody flesh. No bones, no face, no form at all—but you will continue to live and you will feel it all. The liquid pulp you become will be collected in that vat. We will question you and give you the means to reply. If you remain uncooperative, there are a variety of tortures to which we can subject your new form, both chemical and physical. The worst, I think, is feeding you to our slaves. You will make a tasty soup and you will gain an unusual perspective on the process of digestion. Start the machine.”
Two slaves wound a large crank and released it. The belt slowly pulled me toward the clacking iron jaws that would pulverize me. I struggled in my bonds, but the straps were too strong. Erimandras and his demonic master looked on dispassionately, Natalia with grim fascination.
“If you tell us where the wand is now, I will release you,” said Erimandras.
“I wouldn’t tell you if I did know, even if I thought your promise was any good.”
“You do know and you will tell,” said Asmodraxas.
“Don’t say a word!” said Merc, appearing in the doorway, his red cloak floating around him like a cloud. The slaves rushed at him and flew back lifeless, scattered by an invisible hand. The doors closed behind Merc and I heard the collapse of the ceiling outside. This would be a private confrontation.
“I was wondering if you would show up,” I said.
“I took a wrong turn in one of the secret passages out of the library. But now we can bring this little drama to its conclusion.”
He wasn’t a miracle, but he was the next best thing.
* * *
22
Take him,” said Erimandras.
Natalia drew steel and attacked, only to be halted by the same invisible wall of force.
“You’ve done well in our previous encounters, Natalia,” said Merc. “Now you’re going to be well done.” The invisible wall expanded and slammed her backwards into the fire pit. She didn’t scream as she was engulfed by the ebony flames.
“You’re the Overmaster?” said Mercury, getting a good look at Erimandras. “Shouldn’t you be home sucking your thumb?”
Erimandras stood and raised the wand. “Fool! I was an arcane master at the age of five and a grandmaster at seven. I slew the previous Overmaster in my eighth year and began the making of the Mirror of Asmodraxas. It is you who is but a mewling babe before my power and intellect!”
Crimson lightning arced from the simulation Superwand and traced a crackling web in the air around Merc, who crumpled to the floor. He wasn’t going to be much help to me from there.
I kept struggling and discovered that the conveyer belt was loose. By thrashing purposefully, I caused it to slip off track and jam the rollers. The pulp-grinder ground to a halt and I hung upside down off the edge of the machine, my head resting on the floor.
Merc rose to his knees and pointed a stiff hand at Erimandras. A sheet of golden flame spread from his fingers, but stopped short of the Overmaster’s throne, blocked by protective magic. Still the crimson lightning clung to Mercury like a wreath.
I twisted until the strap around my chest caught on a projecting strut. Using that as resistance, I quickly squirmed my arms and shoulders out. With use of my hands restored, it was easy to unbuckle the other straps. I rolled to the floor and caught my breath.
“Cosmo has freed himself,” said Asmodraxas. “Stop him.”
Erimandras obeyed, turning the wand on me. I rolled beneath the grinder and crawled out on the other side, crouching beneath the frame of the agony matrix. The magic lightning scorched the floor where I had been.
Mercury used the diversion to reach out with his mind and snatch the wand from the Overmaster’s hand. No protective spell countered that tactic and it flew into his possession.
“Now taste your own medicine, brat!” He pointed the wand at the sinister youth. Nothing happened.
“Only I control the wand.”
“Oh.” Mercury bent the wand in two and dropped it. “So much for that idea.”
I got up and sprinted around the fire pit, heading for the table where the relics lay. Erimandras glared at me and two striking cobras flew from his eyes, sailing directly at me. I reversed course and the snakes hit the floor to slither after me. Erimandras returned his attention to Merc, opening his hand to release a cloud of needles at him. Merc transformed them into harmless safety pins, which bounced off him as he climbed the pyramid of thrones.
I ran all the way around the pit, the serpents at my heels. As I passed the table I snatched up Overwhelm, then turned and killed them. I started to climb the pyramid.
“Face me first, Cosmo.”
Natalia crawled from the pit, her nearly invincible armor glowing as if fresh from the forge, shining against the black flames. The exposed portion of her face was blistered cherry red. Her sword burned l
ike a brand.
My armor still lay on the table and I didn’t have time to put it on, nor even to snatch up my shield before she was upon me. I ran around the pit again.
Erimandras hurled Merc back with a conjured avalanche of glass marbles that sent him toppling, unable to keep his footing. As he fell he summoned a glowing lasso with which he snared the Overmaster, dragging him down too. They both fell against the stone table and the lasso dissolved. Merc punched Erimandras in the face, bloodying his nose.
“You dare to physically assault my person? I have endured enough. No more petty spells! Now I shall destroy you with the ultimate form of magic—the Cards of Power!” He pulled a pack of playing cards from an inner pocket. The backs were decorated with sneering demons. “Why do you not quake in abject fear?”
“I play that game as well,” said Merc, drawing his own pack of cards from under his cloak. The backs bore Merc’s initials.
“So be it,” said Erimandras, shuffling his deck and spreading it out in his hand. “Pick a card, any card.”
On the far side of the pit Natalia came at me in all her fury. Overwhelm barely deflected the first blow and it was downhill from there, a repeat of our last encounter. She drove me steadily back, never letting up, forcing me just about anywhere she wanted me to go. The ring of steel was in my ears, my arm was growing numb. She herded me twice around the pulp grinder, to the far wall and back to the pit again. Every swing was as strong as the first. Overwhelm defended me, but I didn’t know how much longer I could maintain my grip on the sword. Already my fingers felt like jelly from the endless impacts of our clashing blades.
“You are nothing, Cosmo. A straw man, a posturing scarecrow.”
“Then why are you so eager to kill me?”
“Your reputation. Undeserved though it is, defeating you will enhance my own prestige. I’ll be able to raise my fee.”
“You’re going to kill me for the public relations benefits? That’s cold.”