“You’ve given your loyalty to a criminal,” he said. “Anton Fallon must pay for desecrating this place. Do not expect me to spare him. I cannot.”
“We came for your monster,” I reminded him. “This is where it sleeps.”
“It’s sleeping?” asked Diriel. He splashed into the stream running through the cave. “Can you waken it?”
“It’s waiting for you,” I said. I was actually getting nervous, and could hear the quaver in my voice. “It knows you’re coming.”
“It knows I am Emperor,” said Diriel madly. “It will bow to me when it sees me.”
“It needs you,” I said, trying to sound calm. And nothing I’d said so far was a lie. I’d figured it out-the whole riddle of the beast. “Soon you’ll both have what you want.”
“And you’ll be dead,” said Diriel sadly. “Wrestler will kill you, you know. Without your sword, you cannot beat him.”
“Just keep your bargain and make sure he doesn’t try to run.”
I held up the flaming stick, lighting the way to the chamber where I knew Crezil was waiting-the portal chamber. “This way,” I told Diriel.
For the first time, Diriel hesitated. He peered down the narrow corridor of rock. “Where are we going?”
“To see your monster,” I said. I looked at him. “Are you afraid?”
He was. His mask of madness cracked just enough for me to see it. “I have never been afraid,” he said. “Continue.”
With the flame lighting my way, I stepped into the rocky corridor. I could feel the unmistakable presence of the beast up ahead, calmly crouching in the darkness. My eyes scanned the gloom. I went deeper, leading Diriel onward, and finally saw the source of the river, still flowing magically into the wall. The portal flared with light suddenly, revealing Crezil’s hellish world. Diriel shielded his eyes from the flare, squinting to see, and when he opened them again he saw the monster emerging from the dark.
I stood very still, not moving forward but not backing away either. Crezil rose up on its sinewy legs, its pink eyes blinking, its naked body pulsing like the throat of a frog. It was enormous, made more so by the smallness of the space, its many heads lowered on its necks. No bones or stolen flesh hid it this time. Now I could see it all, the same, repulsive creature revealed by the painting just behind it over the portal. A human face stared back at me. A bird face clicked its beak. The goat head shook its bloody horns and the pig’s jowls dripped blood. Fleshy tongues darted in and out like tentacles.
“Crezil,” I pronounced. “I have brought you your master.”
Diriel was like stone beside me, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. He stared at the creature in disbelief. I knew I had to speak fast.
“This is your master,” I told Crezil. “Not Anton Fallon. Not the one who woke you. This is the last King of Akyre. He is of the blood!”
“Yes!” crowed Diriel. “I am your master, beast! The blood of a hundred Akyren kings runs in my veins!”
“Not Anton, Crezil. Not Anton. Do you understand?” I pointed at Diriel. “Him!” I looked at Diriel, waiting for the sign to tell me I’d done right. “He is your master, Crezil,” I insisted. “He’s the one you’re looking for. Take him!”
“Yes!” nodded Diriel. “I am. .” He glanced at me. “What?”
“Take him!” I shouted.
As he looked at me, stunned, the mark of the monster appeared on Diriel’s forehead. I smiled with more contentment than I’d ever felt in my life.
“It’s yours, Diriel,” I hissed. “Kasdeyi Orioc! The Guardian-Slave of Gahoreth. You’ll be Crezil’s master, but not in this world.” I turned toward the creature. “Take him home, Crezil. You can go now. You’ve got what I promised. You’re free!”
“What?” cried Diriel. “No, here! Here in this world!” He looked up into Crezil’s monstrous faces. “I am your master. Obey me!”
“It came here because Fallon called it by desecrating these tombs,” I said. “Your ancestors bound this thing to themselves for protection. But they didn’t realize they weren’t just protecting this tomb. It’s been looking for its master ever since it got here. It needs to take you with it.” I stopped smiling. I almost pitied him. “Don’t run, Diriel. Don’t bother.”
But Diriel tried. He turned and took quick steps before a snake-like tongue shot out and seized him, wrapping around his neck. Another grabbed his waist, and another his ankles. Soon he was hovering, carried up by the monster and being dragged backward. He screamed, his face puffing for air, the black tattoo on his forehead flaring to life as he got closer to the portal. Crezil ignored me. It had what it wanted, and our bargain was done. If it was glad for it I couldn’t tell. I watched as it stepped into the living painting, dragging the screaming Diriel into Gahoreth.
The glow from the painting vanished, and all was darkness again. Diriel’s cries echoed down the cave and then were gone, disappearing like the man who’d made them. He wasn’t dead, though. He was just in the realm of the dead. I suppose he still had his soul, and that irked me. A man like that. . it seemed so unfair.
37
I took my time leaving the tomb. For awhile I stared at the place where the portal had been, wondering at the kind of world Diriel would find there. It seemed perfect for a cruel lunatic like him. I had, in fact, kept my promise to him. I had given him what he wanted: his monster. Let Gahoreth deal with him, I figured. This world, my world, was better off without him.
In the last two days I had killed more men than I could count. Their blood crusted my fingernails. But I still had one more execution to carry out. I lingered by the dead portal a few moments more, then sauntered out of the chamber and through the corridors of the tomb without the aid of my fire stick. I didn’t suppose that Wrestler had run off. In some ways he was as insane as Diriel and still thought he could best me. When at last I emerged from the cave, Wrestler was waiting for me, standing in the river, stripped to the waist. He had removed his sword as well, tossing it to the riverbank where his horse waited. The three legionnaires lay dead in the mud.
At first I thought Wrestler had killed them. He was completely unbothered by their corpses, stretching his enormous back and contorting his arms into impossible shapes as he prepared for our fight. He paused as he saw me come out of the cave, and didn’t seem surprised I was alone.
“You killed him,” sighed Wrestler. “I knew it the moment these clods dropped dead. Diriel was a fool to trust you.”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “Your master got what he wanted. The monster took him to hell.” I stepped out to the bank of the river, spying the dead legionnaires. If they had died when Diriel left, maybe the other legionnaires did, too. That was part of the plan I hadn’t counted on, but it thrilled me. Isowon was safe, then. “You should have run,” I told Wrestler. “I would have found you eventually, but as least you’d have had a chance.”
Wrestler threaded his fingers together, raised his hands over his bald head, and stretched his body until his spine popped. He bent almost all the way backwards, then stood upright again, grabbed his right leg, and touched his ankle to his chin. I had never seen anything like it.
“Do you know how hard it is for me to find an opponent worth fighting? Maybe you’ll be it this time. You certainly weren’t last time.” He gestured to my sword. “Will you be a man and toss that away?”
I thought of taking his head off with a stroke. He knew I could have, but knew I wouldn’t. I undid the Sword of Angels from my waist and laid it down in the mud of the river bank. I expected Malator to scream at me, to chide my foolishness, but he didn’t. Instead he whispered vengeance in my ear.
Make him suffer.
I pulled off my boots and lay them by my sword. I had wrestled like this as a boy, half-naked and brutal, just to prove myself. It felt oddly familiar when my bare feet hit the mud. I strode out into the river, charged with Malator’s power. Wrestler seemed to be growing by the moment. His giant chest swelled out as he stretched, his ropey arms flexing. The veins in his head pulsed and turned his face scarlet.