A moment of panic, then Shamon received an upsurge of power from Lotus, conceived and enhanced by the wellspring of their Sex magick.
The fist pushed downwards again with the weight of five thousand tonnes of granite.
~~~
Chapter 43
Killing the dragon
Merrick held the physical and psychic hand of his father. He sensed Celestia and Destain’s mind-force augmenting and shaping their own. For the first time, Merrick experienced the three torrents of his psychonautics conflate. He read the thoughts of the possessed Behomoth, saw it as a geological feature impressed on his portal map and felt it recoil at the onslaught of their mind-bolt.
He and Karapetian combined their tumultuous energies into one enormous Psychonautic burst, only this time, together, they could control the release.
Nonetheless it was a stalemate. There was an ebb and flow of energy; in one moment the mountain-fist descended, in the next it was beaten back by psychonautic power. This stasis continued for minute after minute until, imperceptibly at first, then with increasing certainty, the Behomoth began a continuous thrust downward.
Lazlo, we have to increase the power, Merrick sent.
There’s something blocking its release, Karapetian replied. Our power is compartmentalised, conspiring against us. If we were one entity, there would be no barriers.
What are you saying?
You have to absorb my essence, Merrick.
Wait, what will that do to you?
It doesn’t matter, do it!
There has to be another way.
Another voice joined their mental union. It was Destain. Merrick, remember the second vision.
Merrick searched the vaults of his memory. It came to him; the second scroll—’The dragon bites off three of the creature’s heads while a further head turns on another and devours it.’
The three heads ... Merrick sent.
We have lost three whole orders, together with their leaders. Karapetian again.
Then the other head is ...
You know what you have to do. Karapetian added his magickal powers of persuasion to the words, but Merrick didn’t need them. He heard their truth.
He looked up at the Behomoth. It had raised its other fist, ready for the killing blow.
Now, Merrick, now. They were Karapetian’s last words. He dropped his mental shield and immense energy funnelled into Merrick’s psyche, together with the invaluable gift of control. Celestia and Destain were cast from the meld as Merrick’s psychonautic bolt turned from blue to white.
He screamed, his open mouth discharging the pent up anguish of the decision he had made as the Leviathan lifted both hands to its head.
Even a mountain can feel pain.
Still the energy increased. The bolt split into a delta of lightning forks enveloping the Behomoth’s head and upper torso. Merrick saw the granite flesh of the beast glowing, then melting to become a dripping torrent of molten rock. Its cries were as an earthquake, the mantle below the ground echoing the agony of its spawn. Underneath this ear-splitting roar, Merrick sensed the cries of two lesser beings.
Shamon and Lotus.
Merrick detected a new power added to his own. It was dark, malevolent and thrilling and he knew it was the magickal essence of Jagur Shamon. Next instant, the transferral was complete. Merrick saw the crumpled husk that Shamon had become. The Ukurum was vanquished.
Uncreated.
As Merrick’s power began to dissipate at last, he saw Lotus’ astral form take hold of Shamon’s and retreat to the other side of the valley.
The Behomoth’s body had now become a molten stream of liquid rock, descending like some Hadean waterfall and terrible to behold. It toppled backwards, falling in slow motion onto the remaining Ukurum army. The impact began an avalanche; great slabs of rock shattered or rolled down the steep edifice, carrying Necrolytes, Amorphic and human Ukurum down to the foot of the mountain, their bodies broken and buried.
Merrick returned to his corporeal self and staggered backwards to avoid being caught up in the rockfall. He scrabbled over the unstable ground and saw Karapetian’s lifeless form slide over the edge of a crevasse as the side of the mountain disappeared.
After what seemed like an eternity of chaos, the mountain became still, all except for the dust that rose in dense clouds. Down below, the remaining Ukurum picked their way amongst the rocks or fled across the flood plain. Biff’s predators picked up many of them and doled out swift retribution.
Celestia ran towards Merrick, crying out his name.
“Celestia, stay back,” he shouted. “It’s not safe here.”
She ignored the caution and took him in her arms. He was grateful for her support as she guided him back to the Hierophant defences. Loud cheers greeted them from the battered remnant of the Hierophants and Vril. Everywhere they looked, they saw weapons and fists raised to the sky and heard deafening roars of victory. As he passed through them, they reached out to touch him or slap him on the back. Everyone was eager to reach out to their saviour.
“Let’s get you back to the tent,” Celestia said. Destain can give you a look over.”
“I’ll be okay. I’ve some elixir left, it should do the trick.”
“You need to rest, Merrick. You can’t prop yourself up on chemicals forever. You’ve done your job. Leave it to the others to mop up.”
With the mob still crowded round, he stopped at the tent entrance and looked at her. “Celestia. It’s far from over yet.”
~~~
Johnny led his limping troop of mercenaries back up the mountainside. They picked their way over the Behomoth’s spoil heaps, helping any of the wounded they came across. For the most part, there was little left of the sacrificed humanity to rescue. The re-landscaped floodplain had become the graveyard of thousands. Here and there, they came across isolated Ukurum warriors, who either fled or knelt down in the universal posture of submission. He had no idea how to respond. While no stranger to the harsh realities of war, he saw no benefit in killing them, and taking them prisoner was a low priority seeing that the allies had their own to take care of.
From a distance he had seen the Behomoth fall. Now, close up, he saw the effect of its passing. The mountainside had been completely re-shaped. The remains of the beast could be seen at the foot of a great defile, molten rock bubbling at the bottom. All around them, the slopes were littered with loose scree and dead bodies, making their ascent treacherous. The risk of further rock-falls was a constant threat, yet they managed to reach the encampment without further loss of life.
He thanked the men under his command and arranged for those with more serious wounds to receive medical attention. Food and water was available from the mess tent. He snatched some, then headed for the Psychonaut’s quarters.
“Merrick, you son of a gun,” he exclaimed upon arrival. “Glad to see you made it.” The Psychonaut, surrounded by Jason and the other companions, turned at the sound of his voice. His face was a gaunt, sombre mask, but cracked into a smile once he saw who had returned.”
“Johnny. Likewise; we’d begun to think you’d bought it.”
“Not me. I’m a cockroach. Bring the building down on me and I just crawl out of the rubble. Hey, isn’t Karapetian here to congratulate us?”
Merrick’s smile faded. “I’m afraid he didn’t make it.”
They exchanged details of the conflict’s closing moments, and shared condolences for the lost. The woe of aftermath would have to wait, however.
Merrick turned his attention back to the others. “We’re just discussing our next move.”
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Johnny said. “Break out the bubbly—we’ve a victory to celebrate.
“That would be both premature and inappropriate,” Jason said. “Shamon survives, if only in his physical form. He and his general have retreated to the citadel on the backs of eagles.”
“Sounds like it’s a no-
brainer. Just rustle up one of your gateways, Merrick. We’ll follow through and clean up the remaining scum.”
“It’s not that simple,” Merrick said. “I’ve already tried to breach the fortress by realm-jumping. My gateways close up as soon as they’re formed. Shamon must have conjured a magickal barrier since our last mission. It’s impregnable.”
“Couldn’t you travel to Ashgabat and use the existing gateway there?”
“Tried that as well. The gateway just absorbed my power and remained closed.”
“Well then, it looks like we’ve got a siege on our hands. We’ll post a platoon on the earth side of the gateway and surround the fortress here. It’s an untidy end, but it’s only a matter of time before they run out of food.”
Jason pointed to an enlargement of the citadel on an unrolled map in front of him. “We don’t know how many he’s got holed up in his lair, nor what resources he has. He might be diminished magickally, but there are plenty of warriors who may have survived. We can’t give them them the opportunity to regroup and marshall their resources.”
“So, what are our options?” Albany asked.
“We need to find another way in,” Aislynn said. “The main gate has been sealed with rock and debris; Merrick tells us it is strongly defended too. We could try a full-frontal assault, but we would suffer heavy losses.”
“Is there another way in?” Johnny said.
Merrick rubbed his brow. Johnny thought he looked at the point of collapse. Grey shadows hung under his eyes and his shoulders drooped. “We don’t know. Biff and Hacker are circling the citadel as we speak but haven’t found one yet.”
Johnny thought for a moment, then said “We may not have to search for one. Wait here while I check something out.”
~~~
Tessanee had all but given up testing each of the wooden spars of her cage. She had hoped for a point of weakness. Just the slightest movement in a joint and she would have something to work on. But the cage had been too well made.
Her spirits had risen upon hearing the Behomoth’s roar and the cries of terror from the enemy, but it had been short-lived. She heard the Leviathan fall and suffered the unimaginable weakening of her magickal power as the spirit of Ukurum was destroyed. Now she was just another mortal, skilled in combat, true, but after having tasted the fruits of magickal power these were a pathetic remainder.
Should she wait for death, or hasten its arrival? Suicide would remove the indignity of execution at the hands of the Hierophants, but there was something stopping her. Something deeper, more fundamental than hope or resolve.
Her thoughts were broken by Johnny’s arrival. He wore a smile—it made her trust him even less than his usual sour demeanour.
“Hi there, my little minx,” he said. His hands were on his hips as he stared into the distance. “It looks like our work is just about done here. I take it you know of Shamon’s defeat?”
She looked to the ground. Words weren’t enough to express her hatred of this man. She wasn’t going to dignify his strutting with a reply.
“I guess you want to know what we’re going to do with you?” He picked up a stone and tossed it in the air a few times. “You’ve lost your power, so you’re no real threat to us. We could simply hang you from the nearest tree. But me, I’m thinking justice would be better served handing you over to the Celebrains. They have their own judicial system. It starts with an assumption of guilt, and there are no defence lawyers. Punishment for the crime is chosen by the people, and believe me, hanging is quite merciful in comparison. So yes, we could throw you to the lions as it were.” He drew back his arm and threw the stone high in the air. It clattered on a rock somewhere down the cliff face, it’s echo travelling back to them in the thin, still air.
She looked up at him, eyes glowing feral from a face marked with blood and dirt. “Is that all you came to do. Gloat?”
“Partly. Gloating’s very underrated you know, it’s one of the spoils of war. But our leader wants to make you an offer.”
“Offer—what kind of an offer?”
He leaned closer to the cage and their gazes locked. “Information. Shamon—or what’s left of him has retreated to his lair. We figure you might know how to get into the fortress. If so, you can lead us to it. In return, we take you back to earth and give you your freedom.”
A different light sparkled in Tessanee’s eyes. “How do I know that you’ll keep your word?”
“Jason’s prepared to draw up a contract and cover it with a mage-lock.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Mage-lock? Seems a high order of magick to invoke for such a matter. You must want to storm the fortress badly.” She looked to where Johnny had cast the stone. “Very well. I accept your offer. There is a doorway, and I know how to open it. But once I’m done, that’s my obligation met. You must release me.”
Johnny spat on his hand and offered it to her through the bars. “Then, you’ve got a deal.”
~~~
It was a party of about one hundred that Merrick transported to the Celebrain city. The township itself was open, and the streets were filled with revellers, both native and terrestrial. Merrick surveyed the drunken but good-natured melee with no little satisfaction. If all they had achieved was to release these primitive people from the yolk of oppression, then that was a victory indeed. But it wouldn’t be enough until they brought down the last bastion of the enemy’s forces. Tessanee led them down a shadowed alley on the west side of Shamon’s fortress. On their way they passed many, hastily-built scaffolds displaying the corpses of Ukurum warriors. Javelins thrust into the ground bore the heads of Necrolytes at their tops. It was rough justice, but satisfying nonetheless.
After a time, Tessanee stopped. “It is here,” she said.
“I don’t see anything,” Johnny said, looking around warily.
“In the wall,” she said. “It is hidden from the eyes of the uninitiated, but I can open it with the correct gestures.”
“Then do it,” Johnny said.
She looked at her bonds. “I need the use of my hands,” she said.
Johnny looked at Merrick.
She’s peaking on adrenaline and subterfuge, he sent to Celestia.
So would you, if you were Johnny’s captive and one step away from his peculiar type of punishment.
Can you sense anything the other side of the wall?
Ne Rien. The magickal barrier still remains using a vestige of Shamon’s power. Once breached, the defence will be down forever.
“Cut her loose,” Merrick said to Johnny, “but if she runs, kill her.” Celestia widened her eyes at him.
All’s fair in love and war, he sent.
Johnny sliced through Tessanee’s cords. She rubbed her wrists to restore the circulation and approached the wall. “Stand back,” she said, “the door will open outwards.”
She touched the wall in several places according to a complex pattern known only to herself, then finally pushed against the wall.
What happened next took the companions completely by surprise. The door appeared, true enough. It was fully fifteen feet tall and the same again wide, but rather than hinge itself ponderously open, it slid across in a heartbeat. There, behind it, were a phalanx of Necrolytes, each with a poised javelin. Tessanee dove forward into their midst as they launched their shafts of death. A large handful of Hierophants fell to the ground, skewered by spears. Merrick didn’t have time to see who had been hit. He felt a hand push him to the ground, then Arun fell on top of him protectively. He spat out dust and looked up. Tessanee held a Necrolyte dagger, which she thrust upwards into Johnny’s heart. Pure hatred, the one thing that had sustained her, flared in her eyes as she twisted the weapon. Johnny gave a gurgling, muted cry and sank to his knees, whereupon the Necrolytes brought their blades down in a hail of blows.
“Take cover,” Jason yelled as enemy slingshots launched a rain of spiked, metal spheres, felling half of the remaining Hierophants. Som
e took shelter behind a low wall, while others scattered back along the alley.
Those who had taken cover behind the wall recovered quickly and drew bows. The Necrolytes made an easy target and weren’t retreating nearly quick enough to avoid a swarm of Hierophant arrows. Merrick was weaponless and considered unleashing his psychonautic fury, but the risks were too great. He hadn’t any idea what degree of control he could exercise since he had absorbed Karapetian and the Ukurum’s essence. In the end it didn’t matter, Jason launched his thaumaturgy at selected targets, causing them to keel over and take down at least one more to their side. The rest retreated. Merrick saw that Tessanee had disappeared.
“Storm the doorway,” Jason ordered, “before it closes.” He was the first to step across the threshold. Merrick was relieved to find that Albany, Aislynn and Celestia were amongst the survivors who rushed at the door. They made it through with five other Hierophants and Arun bringing up the rear. One Hierophant was not so lucky. The massive stone doorway slammed shut on his body, pulverising him to a bloody pulp. Half of his head, an arm and lower leg dropped to the floor as the only evidence of his failed attempt. Merrick resisted an upsurge of bile and turned to Jason.
“The enemy have split up,” the Thaumaturgist said. “They’re trying to confuse us.”
“It will do them little good,” Celestia said, “my far-sight is working again. Tessanee has retreated up the passageway to our right, we should follow. My guess is she’ll lead us straight to Shamon. I can already sense him skulking at the top of the fortress.”
They followed Celestia’s lead and bound up a series of spiral staircases. They encountered isolated Necrolytes and two of the Amorphic, which they dealt with in their stride. Aislynn sent another, larger group off on a false trail after conjuring a perfect illusion of the companions. After another minute they were drawing breath in large gasps. The fatigue of battle had taken its toll.
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