The ruby beams solidified into iron, trapping Lan, forcing him to remain immobile. The skull floated closer. The jaw clacked slightly, dead bone above banging on the three teeth clinging to the bottom jaw. Lan felt irrational dread of that skull, then calmed himself. He had no idea what spell he used to keep the eye- beams at bay, but it worked. Immense flows of power surged about him; Claybore put everything into this single assault.
The disembodied sorcerer failed. As abruptly as he' d appeared, he vanished.
Lan Martak awoke screaming, the pleasant valley stretching before him, the summit of Mount Tartanius a day' s climb above.
" Stairs," he said in awe. " Someone has cut a stairway into the living stone." Lan put one foot on the bottom step, as if he didn' t believe it existed. Putting weight on it proved reality.
" The good earth has prepared the way for the faithful." Ehznoll stood to one side, bloodshot eyes wide in religious rapture. He had spent the entire night praying to his earth god. After the brief excursion into unreality and the confrontation with Claybore, Lan wished he had done the same.
" The steps were put here by a mage," said Morto. The man fell silent when Abasi- Abi kicked at him.
" Is it safe?" Lan asked.
" No," came the taut, crisp reply from the sorcerer. " It is very dangerous. I must go first, to explore, to counter any ward spells put along the way to deter us."
Ehznoll didn' t seem to hear. He began climbing, slowly at first, then with more energy. The closer he got to the top of the mountain, the more he came alive. His pilgrimage was at an end.
" Stop, wait, don' t!" cried Abasi- Abi. Ehznoll had already climbed half of the hundred steps to the summit.
" The way is safe," said Lan. " I feel no magic. Not here." From the top, however, radiated continual pulses of energy. The spells atop Mount Tartanius were potent.
" The Kinetic Sphere is there," said Krek. " I ' see' it so clearly it almost burns my eyes."
" You don' t see with your eyes, not the cenotaphs," Lan pointed out.
" A figure of speech." The arachnid had begun his own way up the stairs. Lan followed. Behind came incoherent babblings from Abasi- Abi and soft, soothing words from Morto.
As he walked, Lan cast out his senses for the slightest hint of danger. Nothing. The steps were perfectly etched into the mountain, the weather clear, his personal energy at a high. The weariness of the climb had been forgotten because of the nearness of his goal. The dream battle with Claybore, while enervating, had convinced him they were still ahead of the sorcerer. They' d reach the top first. And recover the Sphere, rescue Inyx, strand Claybore, and prevent him and his grey- clad soldiers from conquering every world along the Cenotaph Road.
So simple.
Lan bounced up the last few steps and stopped to stand and stare, Ehznoll and Krek at his side. Behind, still a quarter of the way down the stairs, came old Abasi- Abi and Morto.
" Think of the forces that did this," Lan said in a soft voice.
The entire top of the mountain had been levelled off, the surface polished to a high gloss. Looking down, Lan saw his own reflection. Over an acre of mountaintop turned into a mirror- and dropped off to one side of the mirrored plane, as if an afterthought, stood a small single- roomed stone hut. Ehznoll sank to his knees, crossed wrists, and began to chant.
" I believe this is what our pilgrim seeks," said Krek.
" Hardly seems worth the effort." Even as Lan spoke, his attention became riveted to the stone hut. His eyes didn' t see, but his magical sensing ability " saw" what lay within.
The Kinetic Sphere gleamed as brightly as if it had become the sun itself.
" Stop, wait, don' t go!" called Abasi- Abi, stumbling up the last few steps to join the others. " The danger. You don' t know what powers you' re meddling with."
" Krek, keep him here while I go exploring." Lan drew his sword and began walking. He had to place his feet carefully; not only did the surface reflect like a mirror, it proved as slippery as one.
He hadn' t walked ten feet when he felt tiny tendrils working against his face, caressing his body, holding him back. He turned and immediately located the source of the magical interference. He pointed the tip of his sword directly at Abasi- Abi.
" Old man, try to stop me with your magics again and I' ll toss you over the edge of the mountain."
" Don' t go. Let me. You' ll ruin everything."
" You' ve been too closed- mouthed about your business. I can only conclude you want the Kinetic Sphere for yourself."
" The Kinetic Sphere?" The sorcerer appeared genuinely surprised.
" That' s the potent magical device you seek," said Lan.
" Yes, yes, it' s here, but so what? I want to destroy the other. I want to prevent Claybore from regaining his power."
" If I keep him away from the Kinetic Sphere, he can' t regain his power."
" No, you meddling fool, you don' t understand. You' re delving into matters of cosmic scope. You can' t control them. You-"
" Krek, a few strands of your web, please. Yes, thanks." He watched as the spider wrapped the sorcerer firmly in a double band of thick silk. One crossed the mage' s mouth and rendered him incapable of speaking. Lan Martak heaved a sigh, turned, and began his slippery way across to the hut.
Less than halfway there, a wall sprung up in front of him, a wall even more highly polished than the ground. A perfect likeness reflected back to him. At the side, barely more than tiny black dots, he made out the reflections of the others so far behind him on the plain.
Lan moved closer; the image came closer. He skirted the wall, studying its base. No seam existed between ground and wall to indicate how it had appeared so abruptly. He came to the end of the eightfoot- high barrier and peered around.
His image wrapped itself around the edge, almost as if the twodimensional being existed and dogged his steps.
" Well, old friend, here' s where I leave you."
" No."
Startled when his image replied, Lan stepped back. The reflection did likewise. Lan studied the image more carefully now. It moved when he did. A reflection, nothing more. When he tried to go around the side of the wall, the image attacked.
Quick reflexes allowed him to fend off the blow. Losing his footing on the slick surface, he slid backward and fell. The mirrorwarrior stood where he had been before the attack- on his feet.
Lan retreated and regained his feet. The image diminished in size. As he retraced his path, moving closer, the image grew until it matched him in size and detail.
" Let me by," he said, feeling silly about talking to a mirror.
" No."
Coldness settled in his stomach. He swung his sword at the image and met the wall' s glassy material with a ringing crash. Glass tinkled and fell to cover the plain. The mirror image had vanished. He advanced and heard Abasi- Abi crying out behind, calling him names, telling of his mismatched and illicit parentage. Lan hoped Krek would spin another strand to cover the mage' s mouth.
He hadn' t gone five feet when another wall appeared in front of him, also constructed of the glassy material and highly reflective. He again faced himself. Again he fought. This time his blows never even reached the wall. Shocks ran down his sword arm with the impact of the parry. Every blow he made, every parry, every riposte, was perfectly matched.
He gusted a sigh of disgust and stepped back to disengage. How could he outmaneuver his own reflections?
" Die!" came the single command.
Lan Martak found himself fighting for his life. He succeeded in preventing his own image from inflicting damage, but only barely. Lan fought, then backed away. At ten feet, the image stopped its advance, a perfect reflection, mimicking his every move. He retreated further, returning to where the others stood and watched.
" Release the web over his mouth," Lan commanded. " I want him to tell me what' s going on."