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"Evene ... ?"

"Yes, Lord?"

"I 'have a thing to say ..."

"What is it, my love?"

"I-Nothing!"

And his soul drew nearer, standing directly behind him now, and the strange feeling rose until he could bear it no longer.

Turning back to her, he said, "I am sorry!"

"For what, my dear?"

"I cannot explain it now, but there may come a time when you recall that I said it."

Puzzled, she said, "I hope that such a time never comes, Jack. I have always been happy with you."

He turned away and his eyes went to the east. He stopped breathing for a moment and he felt his heartbeat everywhere in his body.

Through the dust, the noise, the chill, it followed the trail. The flaring lights, the trembling land, the stalking storm meant nothing to it, for it had never known fear. It glided down hills like a ghost and slithered among rocks like a reptile. It leaped chasms, dodged falling stones, was singed once by lightning. It was a blob of protoplasm on a stick; it was a scarred hulk, and there was no real reason why it should be living and moving about. But perhaps it did not truly live-at least, not as other creatures, even dark-side creatures, lived. It had no name, only an appellation. Its mentality, presumably, was not great. It was a bundle of instincts and reflexes, some of them innate. It was lacking in emotions, save for one. It was incredibly strong, and capable of enduring extreme privation, great amounts of pain and excessive bodily damage. It spoke no language, and all creatures it encountered fled from it.

While the ground shook and the rocks rattled about it, it began its descent of the mountain-

which-once-had-moved, currents of blazing cloud dropping fires along its way.

The landslide did not stop it any more than the tempest could.

It picked its way among the strewn boulders at the mountain's base and for a moment regarded the final ascent.

There led the trail; there must it follow.

High, high-set, walled and well guarded ...

But in addition to its strength it possessed a certain cunning.

...And its one emotion.

"Win or lose, it's working," Jack said; and although Evene did not reply, his soul did.

"You lose. Whether it is the world's gain or loss is another matter. But you lose, Jack."

... And as he gazed into the lightening east, Jack felt that this was true.

For the sky had grown pale of something other than volcanic fires and storms. Within him, he felt his power begin to break. Turning to the west, he saw again how far the black orb had fallen, and the dawn exploded in his mind.

As his power slipped away, the walls of Shadow Guard began to crumble.

"We'd best flee now."

"What do you care, spirit? You can't be harmed. I'll not flee. I say this tower will stand against the dawn."

Below him, stones and masonry raining into a courtyard, a wall gave way, revealing the interiors of several chambers. Jack heard the cries of his servitors and several rushed across the courtyard. There came another shaking of the ground and the tower itself swayed slightly.

Jack faced the pink-skied east once more. "The Key That Was Lost, Kolwynia, is lost again," he said. "This time forever."

For he had tried a simple spell and it had failed.

He heard a roaring, as of waters unlocked, and a far portion of the citadel burst and was scattered.

"If you will not flee, then what of the girl who stands by your side?"

Jack turned toward Evene, having almost forgotten her presence. He saw that a curious look had come onto her face.

At first, he was unable to fathom her expression; and when she spoke, he noted that the timbre of her voice had changed.

"What is happening, Jack?"

As she spoke, he felt her body stiffen and sway slightly away from him. He immediately relaxed his arm to accommodate her movement.

In an instant, it filled his mind. With the slipping away of his magical powers, the spell he had laid upon her so long ago was coming undone. As the dawn spread over the troubled world, her mind cleared proportionately.

He began to speak, hoping to occupy her full attention, to keep her from suddenly considering her changing condition.

"It is my doing," he stated. "The seven listed in the Red Book of Ells would not cooperate in maintaining the Shield against the outer cold, so I slew them. I was mistaken, however, in considering them expendable. Though I had thought I could manage it, I proved incapable of performing the feat on my own. There was but one alternative. I destroyed the Great Machine which maintained the world as it was. Now, we darksiders, drawing our legends from that near-incomprehensible thing called science, say it is a Machine that drives the world. The daysiders, equally superstitious, see the world's core as filled with fire elementals and molten minerals. Who is to say who is correct and who, incorrect? Philosophers on both sides have often speculated that the world of the senses is an illusion. It does not really matter to me. Whatever the reality from which we appear to be permanently isolated, I journeyed to the world's center and effected a catastrophe there. You see its results all about you now. Because of my actions, the world is beginning to rotate. There will no longer be a darkside and a lightside. Rather, there will be both darkness and light in succession in all portions of the world. The darkness, I feel, will always hold in some form the things we have held, and science will doubtless prevail in the light"

That is, he added mentally, if the world is not destroyed.

He wondered, at that moment, what it was like in the lands of light-back at the university- to have evening come on, then darkness, to see the stars. Would Poindexter think it an elaborate semester's end prank?

"This way," he went on, "there will be no need to shield against the cold or the heat. The warmth of the star about which we move will be distributed rather than concentrated. I-"

"Jack of Evil!" she cried, backing quickly away from him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that a blazing orange arc had appeared above the horizon.

As its rays fell upon them, the tower trembled, quaked, began to rock violently. He heard the sound of falling stones within the tower itself, felt through his boots the vibrations of their dislodgment... . And Evene crouched, and her eyes were wide and wild behind the masses of her now freed hair, which the wind whipped past them ...

... And he saw that in her right hand she held a dagger.

He licked his lips and backed away.

"Evene," he said. "Please listen to me. I can take that toy away from you, but I don't want to hurt you. I've hurt you enough. Put it away, please. I'll try to make-"

She sprang at him then, and he reached for her wrist, missed, stepped to the side.

The blade went by; her arms and shoulder followed. He seized her shoulders.

"Jack of Evil!" she said again; and she slashed at his hand, cutting it.

As his grip weakened, she broke free and was upon him, thrusting for his throat.

He blocked her wrist with his left forearm and pushed her away with his right hand. He glimpsed her face as he did so, and there were flecks of foam at the corners of her mouth; lines of blood crossed her chin from where she had bitten her lip.

She stumbled back against the balustrade and it gave way, almost soundlessly.

He lunged toward her, but arrived only in time to see her billowing skirts as she fell toward the courtyard below. Her scream was brief.

He drew back when the tower's shifting threatened to topple him, also.

The sun was now half-risen.

"Jack! You've got to leave! The place is falling apart!"

"It doesn't matter," he said.

But he turned and headed toward the stair-well.

It searched the corridors, after having entered the citadel through a gaping hole in its northern wall. It left the bodies where they fell, whenever it had to slay. At one point, a section of roofing fell upon it. It dug its way out and continued on.