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thing of beauty, snapping out of dark clouds, pregnant with life: giving rain.
The lightning above crackled from dust cloud to dust cloud as they swirled and
eddied over the planet's cratered surface. The scent of sulphur hung heavy in
the air, billowing up out of ugly fissures. Numbly she took the mask away from
her face, wiping the buildup of dirt out of the inside, rubbing her eyes,
which instantly started to tear as the stinking clouds seemed to assault her.
"Why in the name of all the gods would Gorgon ever want a place like this?"
Storm sighed.
"It fits his personality," Allic said dejectedly.
Storm leaned against a mud-caked boulder and looked around. The ground was
carpeted with corpses which were already starting to bloat in the heat. In an
hour or two there'd be another stench in the air, and she forced the thought
away to keep her stomach from rebelling.
Many of them were Gorgon's demons, their blackened faces contorted in the
agony of sudden death.
Some had been hit on the ground, so brutally swift was the surprise of the
attack; others had been caught in the air, their burned bodies breaking on the
boulder-strewn land.
She looked at them with disgust. They were not human or demon, to be sure, but
they were not animal either. Her flesh crawled with the thought that somehow
Gorgon might have found a way to blend the two together, creating horrifying
caricatures of mankind. She felt no remorse for the killing she had done here,
as she gazed upon bodies with extra limbs, grotesque faces covered in scales,
bodies with normal human faces but with four legs and no arms that were
obviously used as beasts of burden, torsoes with two heads, and others, male,
female, with horrifying exaggerations of sexual organs.
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"It's like he's created a nightmare and we're trapped in it," Storm whispered.
"I just wish we could corner the bastard, have it out and then go home."
"So do I."
Allic looked up at the column of light that suddenly appeared before him.
"The few prisoners that talked said he pulled out just as we jumped in,"
Jartan said coldly. "We know which way he went, so we follow."
"Damn it, Father, we're running into a web," Allic replied. "This world has
half a dozen jump points to other worlds; so did every other place. There's no
logic to it. We can't chase them all down. We seem merely to be following him
where he wants us to go."
"Sooner or later we'll hit a nerve, a place he values too much to let go
without a fight. When we do, we'll close in for the kill."
"At the time and place he chooses," Allic replied.
"Minar and Chosen agree with me in this. We will press in for the kill. We're
going to finish this war, and when we pull out we'll smash everything behind
us. I intend to wipe these places clean of portals, fortresses, everything.
Even if he survives it'll take him eons to work his way back to us."
"We've only got a single line back to home," Allic pointed out. "He could
always cut in behind us. And cutting that line would slow us up for days if we
needed to retreat."
"I've already thought of that," Jartan said, "and that's why you're staying
behind here."
"Now wait a minute," Allic protested, wearily coming to his feet.
"You're finished, son. You've lost your edge. I saw you in this fight--you let
a demon lord hit you from behind. He might have killed you if your sister
hadn't been there to protect your back. I'm leaving you here with a garrison
of forty sorcerers, to maintain a strong point to our rear. If he tries to cut
us off with a raid, it'll be your job to keep it open."
"Listen to him, Allic, you can't keep it up anymore."
"Damn all of you. No." Allic snarled.
"Allic, shoot first!"
As he started to turn, Storm snapped off a weak bolt, knocking him in the side
and slamming him to the ground before he could even react and bring his shield
up.
Angrily he rolled over, raising his hand.
An impenetrable barrier formed between him and Storm as Jartan came between
them.
Allic looked coldly at his sister, who cautiously came forward once Jartan
floated back, and knelt by his side.
"Are you all right?"
"Side hurts like hell," Allic said, struggling to breathe.
"When we were children and played that game you could beat me every time,"
Storm said gently, laying her hand against his chest.
His ragged breath came easier and he forced a smile.
"Except I at least aimed for your backside."
She hugged him affectionately. "Brother, if it had been a demon lord I'd be
singing your death song now.
To tell you the truth, I've been protecting you for the last three battles.
You need a rest, you've lost your edge. Sooner or later, and I fear it will be
sooner, we're going to get hit hard at a jump and they'll tear you apart."
"I'm not sending you home, at least," Jartan said. "I need all my strength out
here, this is where the threat is. Now listen to your sister and me and agree
to run this garrison for awhile."
Trying to force a smile, Allic shook his head ruefully. He started to cough
hoarsely as he pulled his mask aside for a moment to clean it out.
"Don't leave me here for long," he told them. "This place could drive even a
sober man to drink."
Storm looked worriedly to her father but said nothing. Then she glanced back
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at the grotesque corpses around her. All she wanted was to get this over with
and go back home to a world that was still sane, a place that Gorgon would
never lay his hands upon and destroy as he had this desolate land.
Chapter 12
Something cold splashed against his face.
Startled, Mark Phillips opened his eyes. They were riding, weren't they? He
must have fallen asleep, and he tried to sit up.
He couldn't move. Yet he already was up, on his feet.
Gradually he started to focus, and noticed the sound of laughter echoing in
the air.
Shaking his head, he tried to reach up to wipe his eyes, but he couldn't move
his hands.
Damn it, I'm tied.
The focus finally returned and he saw a wizened face peering up at him, green
eyes dark with suspicion.
"You're the druid," Mark whispered.
"The speech of Jartan's realm," the druid replied, his lilting accent
difficult to understand. "Yes, I'm the druid you sought."
The man stepped back and Mark could see Deidre standing by her grandfather's
side, her rough leather riding breeches and tunic replaced now by a flowing
linen gown of green, her brown hair swirling about her like a curtain of filmy
gauze.
"Well, Mark, I did as you asked and brought you to him," she said with an
almost sad smile. "So don't blame me."
"This is one hell of a reception."
"Better than the one you planned for me," the druid cackled as he walked away.
Mark tried to move his wrists and instantly realized that all his crystals had
been taken. Yet he could still focus his power to a limited degree. As if
reading his mind, the druid looked back at him.
"I wouldn't try anything--not a single word of command," the druid laughed.
"My friends over there might get upset."
The druid pointed over his shoulder to half a dozen sorcerers, dressed in dark
green livery and brown capes, who were sitting around a campfire looking over
at their captives.
"The slightest sign of magics and my friends might use theirs on you."
Laughing, the druid continued to where Shigeru was tied up next to Mark, and
scooping his hand into the small silver bowl Deidre carried, he splashed
Shigeru, who groaned and opened his eyes.
They were in a small clearing, illuminated by the reflected light of a circle
of mirror branch trees. In the center of the circle was a vast trunk nearly a
hundred feet in diameter and rising straight as an arrow, its great form
punching through the canopy of surrounding trees.
Somehow, Mark knew this must be the heart of the forest. In the distance he
could hear scatterings of conversations filtering through the woods. Overhead
he saw several people leaning over the side of a platform, looking down at the
prisoners with open curiosity. If he wasn't in such a wretched situation he
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