The Rise of the Demon Prince

by Robert Kroese

  “A reasonable hypothesis. Then Varastis reached Magas Komaron through a tunnel under the mountains?”

  “That would seem to be the implication.”

  “Very good. What is the rest?”

  I continued:

  The door that goes nowhere can still be a key

  if opened when ogres are having their tea

  and the throat choked with poison will soon breathe free

  toward Magas Komaron

  A wizard can’t tell the wind not to blow

  but there are places where not even the wind can go

  and there in the dark the glimmer did show

  of Magas Komaron

  Whatever it is that Varastis knows

  it led him to the place where the beacon now glows

  and he gazes down upon his helpless foes

  from Magas Komaron

  Rodric frowned. “That’s it?”

  “As far as I can recall.”

  “Well, the ‘door that goes nowhere’ must be the Stone Door Ilona speaks of. But how can a door be a key?”

  I was spared the need to confess my ignorance by a shout from Ilona.

  “Can you get up?” I asked Rodric.

  “Indeed,” Rodric said. “If you have no more songs to sing, it is better that I am occupied in something. Sitting here I have nothing to do but focus on my pain.”

  I helped him to his feet. I was about to shout to Vili when I saw his torch moving toward us. Together, we followed the cliff wall until we reached Ilona. She stood before an elaborate carving in the rock face. To her left and right were fluted columns that supported a lintel. Recessed between the columns was a door that appeared to be constructed not of stone, but of plates of riveted steel. No hinges were evident, but on the right side of the door, about halfway up, was a handle in the form of a sort of recessed hand-crank.

  “Can it be opened?” I asked.

  “Be my guest,” Ilona said, taking a step back.

  “Douse all the torches but one,” I said as I handed mine to Vili. “We may need them later.” Vili and Rodric doused the torches while Ilona continued to hold hers, illuminating the door with a flickering yellow light.

  I put my hand on the handle. It squeaked a bit but turned smoothly. At a quarter turn, there was a click and it stopped. I pulled on the handle and the door swung open. Its movement was completely silent but it provided more resistance than I expected. The resistance increased the more the door opened. Beyond it was a wall of blank stone.

  “The door that goes nowhere,” Rodric said.

  I nodded, struggling to hold the door ajar. It was now almost perpendicular to the rock face, and I did not have the strength to pull it any farther. The door itself was nearly four inches thick and very heavy, but not heavy enough to account for the resistance. It was as if the door was connected to a massive spring; if I let it go, it would swing shut.

  “This is as close to Magas Komaron as the acolytes have gotten,” Ilona said. “Our cartographers have confirmed that if one could proceed through the door, she would be headed directly toward the beacon. But as you see, there is nothing beyond the door but solid rock.”

  “Vili, help me with this,” I grunted. Vili scurried around Ilona and put himself behind the door. Together we opened it a few more inches. The resistance decreased suddenly at this point, and the door swung open a few degrees more on its own, nearly causing me to fall to the ground. I let go of the handle and the door remained open.

  “Strange,” Ilona said. “It ordinarily swings shut.”

  “The song says to open the door when the ogres are having their tea,” I said.

  “Song?” Ilona asked. “You mean the song you were singing to Rodric a moment ago?”

  I ignored her. “A reference to the eruption of the geyser, no doubt,” Rodric said. “The ‘ogres’ may be those rock formations we passed. The impression they lean toward would be filled with hot water shortly after an eruption.”

  Ilona frowned.

  “Have the acolytes never attempted to open the door during an eruption?” I asked.

  “It is dangerous to come here during an eruption, as you have seen,” Ilona said. “Besides, it seems to have done you no good. The way is closed to you as it has been to us.”

  She was right about that: opening the door had not caused the stone wall to evaporate.

  “According to the song,” Rodric said, “Varastis took ‘the way underneath.’”

  “Underneath what?” Vili asked. “The mountains?”

  “Presumably,” I said. “But perhaps also underneath the door.”

  “Nonsense,” Ilona said. “How can one go underneath the door?”

  “The cave we passed,” Rodric said. “The passage that spewed noxious vapors. It might pass directly underneath this point.”

  “It might very well,” I said. “Quickly, while the door still stands open!” I turned and moved quickly across the plateau the way we had come. I seized the torch from Ilona and led the party back along the shelf to the cave. This time there was no stench of sulfur; in fact, cool air was being sucked into the passage.

  “The door is a valve!” Rodric cried. “Somehow it redirects the flow of air!”

  “How much longer will the eruption last?” I asked Ilona, as she approached the opening.

  “Not long. A few minutes, perhaps.”

  “The valve is held open by the flow from the geyser,” I said. “As long as it remains open, the passage is safe.”

  “What if we prop open the door?” Vili asked.

  “I doubt it works that way,” I said. I’d read something in one of General Janos’s books about ancient machines powered by steam. “The door is a lever to open the valve, but the valve will close when the pressure dies, whether the door is open or not.”

  “Then we may only have a few minutes before the noxious vapors resume,” Rodric said. “How do we know we can get through in time?”

  “We don’t,” I said. “But we don’t have time to wait for the next eruption. Those who still wish to seek Magas Komaron, Follow me!”

  Chapter Five

  I plunged into the cave, not waiting to see if the others followed. They knew the risks as well as I, and there was no time for a discussion on the matter. If we were to have any chance of beating Voros Korom to Magas Komaron, we would have to proceed while the geyser was still erupting. I just hoped that Rodric was right about the cave: if this were not the “way underneath”—or, for that matter, if this were all an elaborate joke perpetrated by Bolond—we would asphyxiate for nothing. Rodric groaned softly behind me; he was undoubtedly in great pain.

  As I ventured further into the cave, though, I was somewhat encouraged: the floor was rough but fairly even, and the ceiling was high enough to allow me to pass without bending over. The cave seemed to be a natural vent that had been widened to allow people to pass through it. That implied there was something on the other side. Whether we would reach it before the noxious fumes and scalding vapor returned was another question. For now, the tunnel was filled with fresh, cool air being pulled from the outside. Besides the almost imperceptible whisper of air moving through the tunnel, the only sounds were footsteps: my own, as well as the footsteps of those foolhardy enough to follow me.

  The one consolation was that there was no way to get lost: there was only one tunnel, which meandered through the mountain in what seemed to be a more-or-less easterly direction, descending as it went. Deeper and deeper we went into the mountain, until I was certain that if the flow of air shifted again, we would never make it to the surface in time. I did not attempt to keep track of the passage of time, but the geyser could not last much longer.

  At last we came to a vast cavern, the bottom of which was shaped like a shallow bowl. A pool of still water occupied the lower half of the bowl. Sulfur hung in the atmosphere; the air from the surface had not completely expunged the foul vapor. On the opposite wall of the cavern was a dark opening that was presumably the continuation o
f the tunnel. If we were careful, we could make our way around the edge of the pool without falling in. Kneeling at the edge of the pool, I touched the water with my fingertips. It was warm, but not scalding. The others emerged from the tunnel behind me, and I saw that our party—including Ilona—was all there.

  “The tunnel seems to continue that way,” I said, pointing to the opening. “We must move quickly but be careful not to slip. If any of us falls into the pool, we may be unable to…” I trailed off, sensing that something had changed.

  “The breeze has shifted,” Ilona said, and I realized it was true: hot, damp air swept across my face. For now, it was only the fresh air that had filled the tunnel beyond, but soon the poisonous vapor would return. “It will take some time for it to fill this cavern,” Ilona went on. “If we turn back now—”

  “If you wish to turn back now, do so,” I snapped. “I’ll waste no more breath on the matter.”

  “We’re with you, Konrad,” Rodric said, his voice strained. “But how can we survive that noxious wind? If it doesn’t boil us alive, we will surely succumb to the poison.”

  “What does the song say?” Vili asked.

  Feeling a fool, I forced myself to recite the stanza:

  A wizard can’t tell the wind not to blow

  but there are places where not even the wind can go

  and there in the dark the glimmer did show

  of Magas Komaron

  “Where can the wind not go?” Rodric asked.

  Rodric and Vili both looked to me for the answer. I felt that I should have been able to come up with it, but my mind was consumed by the dread of the poisonous wind, which would return at any moment.

  “Underwater,” Ilona said at last. As she said it, I knew she was right.

  “A lot of good that does us,” Rodric said. “Neither can we breathe underwater.”

  “Perhaps we don’t need to,” I said, and threw my torch into the water. The torch winked out and the cavern was plunged into darkness. The sickening odor of sulfur intensified, and I knew that the poisonous wind had reached the cavern. If I was wrong in my hunch, we would all soon be dead. I could only hope that we were overcome by the poison before the steam boiled the flesh from our bodies.

  “There!” cried Vili. “Near the center of the pool!”

  I saw it as well. Something glittered faintly in the water. Glittering meant light, and light meant another way out of the cave.

  “Drop everything!” I ordered, unslinging my pack and stripping off my cloak. “Dive for that light!” There was no time to remove my boots, and I couldn’t bear to leave my rapier. I took a deep breath, nearly choking on the sulfurous stench, and dived into the pool.

  At first I could see nothing but the faint glitter at the bottom of the pool, but as I swam deeper, I caught sight of a distant opening in the rock ceiling through which a dim light poured. The glitter seemed to come from a mass of crystals that refracted the light from the shaft above. I pointed toward the shaft, but I doubted the others could see me in the near-total darkness. Lungs burning, I swam toward the light.

  Reaching the opening of the shaft, I saw that it was barely large enough for a man to swim through. It led upwards at a diagonal toward the surface. I entered the shaft and swam perhaps twenty feet, at which point the shaft opened into a wide, shallow, pool. I burst above the surface, gasping for breath. Vili shot up next to me, followed shortly by Ilona and then Rodric. The air here was cool and fresh. On the distant horizon was the beacon of Magas Komaron, aligned perfectly with the shaft through which we’d just arrived. I shuddered to think what would have become of us if it had been a foggy night.

  We swam to the edge of the pool and climbed onto the rocks. Once I’d made sure we’d all survived the ordeal and were in no immediate danger, I took a moment to get my bearings. To the west loomed the massive wall of granite through which we’d just come; to the east, the rocky ground sloped gradually down to a deep canyon. Farther to the east, perhaps ten miles distant, was a solitary peak that came to an unnaturally acute point. The beacon winked to us from the top.

  “We camp here for the night,” I said, and received no objections. We were all exhausted, and this would be treacherous ground to travel at night. I’d never been to this part of the mountains—until yesterday I’d thought it unreachable!—but Rodric and I had spent enough time in the Kerepes range to know that it was foolish to travel at night, even if you followed a known path. One wrong step and you’d tumble a quarter mile into a ravine and never be heard from again. Here we at least had water, and the ground radiated enough heat to make a fire unnecessary, even without our bedrolls and other supplies. Once I’d made the decision, fatigue came over me more quickly than the poisonous wind. I managed to strip off my boots but left my damp clothes on. I lay down on a bed of sand next to the pool and dreamt of Beata.

  Chapter Six

  By the time I awoke, the sun was already peeking over the mountains to the east. Rodric and Ilona sat talking on a boulder nearby, but Vili was nowhere to be seen. Rodric seemed to be feeling better; no doubt the cold air relieved some of the pain of his burns. I was about to reproach Rodric for letting me sleep so long when Vili returned with his shirt full of cranberries. We’d had nothing to eat since the previous afternoon and had left our provisions in the cave. Rodric and Vili confessed to having drunk some of the water from the pool before going to sleep, and they seemed to be no worse for it, so we sated our thirst and ate our fill of berries. Rodric seemed somewhat better than the previous night; the cold air was a relief for his burns. Our clothes were still damp and the rest of us were shivering, so we did not tarry. We filled the two skins that we still had with us and set off in the direction of Magas Komaron.

  We followed a rough trail that snaked its way down the mountainside, reaching the floor of the canyon just after noon. The trail continued northwest alongside a shallow stream for two miles and then seemed to vanish; with some effort, we found a continuation of it on the other side of the stream. This led us gradually uphill for a few more miles, ending at the lip of the canyon. The foot of the mountain on which Magas Komaron perched was now less than three miles distant. The ground here was flat and spotted with clumps of grasses and scrub bushes; it was easy to traverse without a path.

  I led the way, while Vili brought up the rear. Rodric and Ilona chatted like old friends, and I grew concerned that they were getting too close. The acolytes were sworn to eradicate sorcery, and we were leading her right to Varastis. Without his help, Nagyvaros would fall to Voros Korom, but without Ilona, we would not have made it this far. The conversation between Rodric and Ilona had been inconsequential so far; Rodric knew a great deal about the vegetation that grew in the mountains, and Ilona peppered him with endless questions every time we passed a new type of shrub or wildflower. At last, though, the conversation turned toward business, as I knew it must.

  “Why do you seek Magas Komaron?” Ilona asked innocently.

  “That question is better addressed to the leader of our party,” Rodric replied.

  “You do not have your own motivations?” Ilona asked, evidently not caring that I could hear her.

  “Vili and I follow Konrad. If he seeks Magas Komaron, we seek it as well.”

  Vili grunted his assent from the rear.

  “It is as simple as that?”

  “Aye.”

  “At some point I shall inquire what inspires such unquestioning loyalty,” Ilona said. “But for now I will have to be content to pose the question to the one you call your leader. What of it, Konrad? Why do you seek Magas Komaron?”

  “I owe you no explanation.”

  “Certainly not, but if we are to go to Magas Komaron together, it might be wise to be clear on one another’s motivations.”

  “I’m quite aware of the acolytes’ motivations in seeking Magas Komaron.”

  “Are you?”

  “You wish to find the way to the sorcerers’ sanctuary so that you can finish the task of eradicatin
g them.”

  “An oversimplification, to be sure, but you are correct that the acolytes wish to arrest the dissemination of forbidden knowledge of the arcane. Knowing so much of my kind, however, you have me at a disadvantage. Tell me at least: are you a friend of Varastis or a foe?”

  “I do not know the man.”

  “But you go to seek his help.”

  I sighed. The truth was that I envied Ilona her clarity of purpose. Why was I going to Magas Komaron? To save Nagyvaros or to avoid being doomed to an eternity serving Szarvas Gyerek in Veszedelem? Or was I simply fueled by a desire to learn more about Eben so that I could have my revenge on him? If I succeeded in defeating Voros Korom, was I doing the work of my enemy? Ilona was untroubled by such questions. To the acolytes, sorcery was evil and needed to be wiped out. That was the end of it. I decided it would do no harm to give her some sense of the true complexity of the situation.

  “The man who murdered the woman I loved has sent a demon and his horde of wraiths to Magas Komaron to kill Varastis and his followers so that Varastis cannot thwart the demon’s efforts to lay waste to Nagyvaros. I am hoping to reach Magas Komaron ahead of the demon to warn Varastis and ally with him against the demon. Even if I reach Magas Komaron in time, the warning will probably do no good, and if by some miracle we succeed in vanquishing the horde, I will in all likelihood be doing the bidding of the man I once swore to kill, but who still torments me from a shadow world beyond life and death. I trust this answers your question.”

  We did not speak of the matter again.

  The mountain was a near perfect cone, rising some three thousand feet above the plateau on which we stood. We reached its foot by late afternoon. The sides were sheer rock, so steep as to be nearly impossible to scale, but we saw as we approached that a stairway had been carved into the face. It looped around the base of the mountain to the left, spiraling twice before disappearing again on the far side. There could be no doubt from this distance that Magas Komaron was no mere pinnacle of rock left behind by some chance fissure: parapets and crenelated towers could now be seen.