A hand touched Colwyn's cheek as he dazedly continued to pour cleansing flame on the spot where the Beast had fallen.
"Gentle, my love. The thing is done."
He blinked, looked over at her, then back to the severely scorched floor. He held up his own hand, staring at the fire that burned there. "I did it, but I still don't know how,"
"We did it, Colwyn. As you said we should. Truly that was the secret the Beast sought to keep from us. From all men. It failed, and from this moment on its time on Krull is over."
Colwyn clenched his fist and watched as the flame slid slowly down his arm to vanish between his fingers. The sand runs out, Ynyr had observed, but now something greater had come, back to mankind. Somewhere the old man must be watching them, and feeling very pleased with himself.
The spikes were close to touching his belly, and Torquil had made final peace with himself when he noticed that the walls had abruptly stopped advancing. Oswyn opened his eyes, dared to touch one of the protruding spikes. He and Torquil exchanged anxious glances.
A dull cracking sound filled the room and a hole appeared in the far wall. Through it they could see the hexagon of the Beast.
Oswyn pulled at his friend but Torquil hung back, staring openmouthed at the walls as they drew back to their original positions. The retreat was uneven, the movement of the walls
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occurring in fits and starts, as if a spring or some other mechanism had failed somewhere deep within the Fortress.
The bandit leader did not rush for the exit. Instead, he slowly walked over to kneel beside Bardolph's limp, punctured body. Reaching out and over he picked up the golden dagger. Then he placed it back between Bardolph's clutching fingers and closed them over the hilt.
"He was a good man. Gold was his only weakness." A chunk of ceiling came crashing down nearby. Oswyn waited next to the miraculous gap.
"Hurry! The walls may close in again."
Torquil stood, oddly calm. "1 think not, my friend. But I have no love for this place. The sooner we are free of it, the better I'll like it." Another section of roof fell in. He stepped around it and followed Oswyn.
Dust and rock fell around the embracing Lyssa and Colwyn as well. The corridor was alive with the sounds of disintegration. Something more than cement and nails had kept the Fortress intact. Now it was gone and the walls were coming down.
"The Fortress dies with its master. We must find Torquil and the others. My friends." He smiled at her. "You understand: I can't abandon them."
"I would not have a man as my husband who could do so." She kissed him gently and led him back the way they'd come when they'd fled from the Beast.
They did not have to search long. Torquil nearly bowled Colwyn over as the two men reached the corridor intersection simultaneously. He looked past the bandit chief, saw Oswyn and no others.
"Bardolph?"
Torquil shook his head. "Glory would have made him uncomfortable anyway. He preferred his gold." He nodded at the rumbling walls. "A fitting tomb for a man who never lived in anything grander than a thatched hut. We heard the sounds of battle, even through the walls that held us."
"The Beast is no more."
Torquil indicated the princess. "So I gathered by our sudden freedom, and the beauty that walks beside you confirms it."
"I have learned what Ynyr did not have the time to tell me. We are free to leave."
"We won't be if we stand here talking about how successful we've been," Oswyn reminded them. He moved past Colwyn and started up the corridor.
They followed, Colwyn and Lyssa running hand in hand, Torquil guarding the rear lest any remaining Slayers think to try and revenge their master.
Oswyn skidded to a halt, retraced his last couple of steps and pointed at the floor. "What do you make of this?"
Colwyn bent to stare at the bloody tracks that marred the otherwise smooth surface. Cat tracks, and a large cat by the look of it. He looked anxiously down the corridor.
"That's Ergo. It's got to be."
"That tunnel doesn't lead outward," Torquil pointed out. "Maybe his sense of direction's failed him."
"Maybe. They might also still be alive. Clearly he's hurt, and maybe the boy as well. Slayers might be keeping them from fleeing back this way. Stay here and guard the princess, my friend." Torquil nodded.
Colwyn turned to Lyssa. "These two risked their lives to help us. I can't leave here if there's a chance they're still alive." She nodded, watching anxiously as Colwyn and Oswyn raced down the narrow passageway, their eyes intent on the bloody tracks marking the floor. Dust and debris rained down on her and deep-throated rumblings sounded all around. They would have to hurry.
The two men rounded several turns before they came upon Ergo, lying limply, his head resting in Titch's lap. Oswyn bent over him, checking his wounds.
"Cuts and bruises, but nothing fatal."
"There's a chance, then." Together they lifted the dazed Ergo to his feet, each man slipping beneath an arm, and half walked, half carried him back the way they'd come. The tunnel began to collapse behind them.
The Fortress was coming down around them, and it seemed that the rate of collapse was accelerating as they ran. Ahead lay the bridge they'd crossed on entering. No Slayers stood athwart it to block their retreat, but the unsteady span made the dark abyss below seem even deeper. They'd barely dashed across when the center of the arch cracked away behind them, to tumble into the bottomless depths beneath.
They turned a well-remembered curve and came to a halt. Ahead lay debris and huge blocks of solid material.
"This is where we entered," Torquil growled in frustration, "but the old entrance is gone, blocked." He flinched as a small piece of rock struck his shoulder. The Fortress was shaking like a pile of twigs. At any moment the last of the roof might come down atop them.
Colwyn shifted his half of the burden of Ergo, and Titch tried to help compensate. "Torquil, Oswyn, stand behind us. We'll make our own exit."
The two thieves obediently moved aside. Their eyes widened at what happened next. Oswyn muttered silent oaths, but Torquil expanded like a proud uncle. One more time, his decision to throw in his lot with this man was vindicated.
The tongue of flame Colwyn threw at the wall licked at the dark resinous substance and smashed through to the outside, reaching brilliantly into clear sky.
Then the way was clear, as the last of the fire vanished into the heavens, and they were clambering down the quivering flank of the Fortress. Colwyn was positive he'd never again feel anything as comforting beneath his feet as the grassy loam that greeted them at the base of the structure. He caught Lyssa as she made the last jump, swung her effortlessly to the ground.
Within the Fortress, the rumbling became a maelstrom of destruction.
"Is the whole thing going to collapse?" Oswyn asked as they moved away across the field.
"I don't know, but we're still too close. Hurry yourself!"
They increased their pace until they'd run a respectable distance across the field. There the exhausted Oswyn chose a thick patch of grass and flowers and gently lowered Ergo to the ground. Lyssa joined him in tending to the smaller man's injuries.
Torquil shaded his eyes as he and Colwyn stood side by side, studying their former prison.
"It's falling to pieces, all right," Torquil observed. "And something else."
Colwyn said nothing, merely nodded and watched. Torquil's comment was premature. As they looked on, the massive structure abruptly fell in on itself with a great roar, almost as if in the final measure the monolith's internal support was little more than fury and nightmares.
Then the earth shook beneath their feet as the pile of rubble slowly rose into the air. It moved languorously at first but rapidly picked up speed, rising heavenward until it was lost to sight.