Ehznoll rushed to the altar and flung his arms around the wooden box containing Claybore' s skull and torso. He lifted it and turned for the door leading to the precipice.
" Stop!" Claybore' s voice carried total command. The full power of his sorcerous skill drove the order directly into Ehznoll' s already numbed brain.
But life remained in Abasi- Abi. A little, enough. He sent spell after intricate, deadly spell at Claybore. Ehznoll stumbled once, then, as the pressure of battle turned back to Abasi- Abi, ran for the verge of Mount Tartanius.
Claybore couldn' t fight both Abasi- Abi and Ehznoll. The sorcerer could slay one or the other, but not both simultaneously. Ehznoll never broke stride when he came to the side of the mountain. He kept running, appearing to rush out another ten feet before gravity seized him and his ghastly burden.
Abasi- Abi collapsed just as Ehznoll and Claybore vanished under the rim of the mountain. Lan shook himself and reeled to the edge. He heard a faint voice drifting up to him.
" The heart will be returned!"
Ehznoll.
He heard nothing of Claybore but saw a brilliant flash before the box had travelled half the distance to the ground. As soon as the glare died, Lan slumped. All magics vanished.
The Kinetic Sphere. Claybore' s spells. Abasi- Abi' s counterspells. The wards atop Mount Tartanius. Everything. He was stranded on a world without cenotaphs. And Inyx was doomed to roam forever through the white fog between worlds.
He' d failed. He' d failed in every way.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Time passed, and Lan Martak didn' t notice. Like a man drugged, he sat and stared over the rim of Mount Tartanius down into the mists below where so much of his life had just vanished. The Kinetic Sphere was lost to him for all time. Inyx was similarly lost. Trapped between worlds, the woman was destined to roam deserted and alone forever. And, while this was a pleasant enough world, Lan had tasted the thrill of walking the Cenotaph Road, of finding and exploring new worlds. For most of his life he' d been trapped on a single world; following the advice of an ancient being, the Resident of the Pit, he' d taken a first hesitant step along the Road. He' d lost a love, killed an enemy, and found friends beyond compare in Krek and Inyx.
And they' d used the Kinetic Sphere to explore. Now that Claybore had regained his magical gateway, nothing prevented him from marching on defenseless, unsuspecting worlds and conquering them. His greyclad soldiers would pour forth through the gate opened by the Kinetic Sphere and bring ruin and slavery to untold cultures.
Lan Martak stared down the side of Mount Tartanius, wondering if he should follow the valiant Ehznoll' s path. One step, nothing, falling, death.
A light touch startled him.
" No, friend Lan Martak," came Krek' s soft words. " That is Ehznoll' s way, not yours. He died for his belief, for the betrayal of his faith. You must live for yours."
" Everything' s gone. There' s no way off this world.
You said so yourself. Unless: " Hope leaped in his breast.
" No," said the arachnid, " I have discovered no other cenotaph off this world. With the Kinetic Sphere gone, the ' vision' is clearer. There are no cenotaphs on this planet opening to other worlds, though I see countless ones opening onto it. These one- way gates no doubt account for the acceptance of travellers in Melitarsus. Many have entered this world only to find ho way off."
Lan slumped again.
" Ehznoll' s way may have been easier, but you' re right. It' s not my way." Looking up at the spider, he asked, " How' s Abasi- Abi? The battle may have severely injured him."
" Worse. His son Morto tends him, as is proper."
" Maybe my healing spells can do something for him. They seem to have put your leg aright."
" It remains stiff. But then, with my weakness and cowardice, what difference does it make? I am a craven, abandoning my dear, sweet little Klawn and our hatchlings. Ah," lamented Krek, " never to see one' s very own hatchlings again. A real pity, but a fate tailor- made for one as miserable as I."
Lan let the spider continue on with his self- pity. Krek had to feel as bad about losing the Kinetic Sphere as he did.
Inside the stone building, Morto knelt beside his father. The sorcerer had aged incredibly. Hair totally white, face lined as if some farmer had plowed it, transparent skin pulled across his hands as taut as a drumhead, he had come as close to death as possible without crossing the line.
" Here he is," said Morto quietly. To Lan, " He wishes to speak. But hurry. He is almost gone."
Lan cradled the old sorcerer' s head.
" You battled well," he said. " I am sorry to have distracted you. And I put Claybore' s head with the body. I didn' t know. I thought all he wanted was the Sphere."
" You didn' t know," absolved Abasi- Abi. " But for that ignorance you must now be punished." Lan tensed. " I am dying. You must carry on my fight against the evil Claybore promises. Morto will give you my grimoire. You have the native skill my son lacks in magic. You will learn all the spells you can to stop Claybore."
" He used the Kinetic Sphere to shift worlds," Lan said glumly. " I saw the flash as he opened the gateway. Do you think he' ll be back to slay the rest of us?"
" No, because he thinks I am dead and you helpless. He thinks there is no way off this world."
" There' s a way? Tell me!"
" First, I must tell you of Terrill." Abasi- Abi' s voice barely reached Lan now. The man bent down so the dying whispers sounded directly in his ear. " He was a mighty sorcerer, the mightiest and now long dead. But he saw the evil Claybore brought. Only Terrill possessed the skill to stop Claybore- not kill him, no one can do that, but stop him."
" Is Terrill the one who dismembered Claybore and scattered the pieces along the Cenotaph Road?"
" Yes."
" Claybore cannot be killed, but he can be stopped? He needs his full body for full power?"
" Yes," whispered Abasi- Abi. " Only the skull is potent, and with the body it is even more potent, but even this combination can be defeated. The danger lies in allowing Claybore to find the arms, legs, feet, hands. Once they are joined, no mage lives on any of the worlds able to withstand Claybore' s might."
" You' ll live, Abasi- Abi. I' ll start my healing spells. They aren' t much, but-"
" No!" Bony fingers clawed at Lan' s arm.
" I' ll have you back on your feet again. Soon. I promise."
" Lan," said Morto in a peculiarly flat voice. " He' s dead. He fought death, tried to deny it. No one can do that, even one as powerful as my father."
Lan Martak placed the lifeless body gently on the soft floor.
" He didn' t tell me how to get off this world. He wanted to tell me about Terrill and Claybore, but he never said anything about leaving here."
" Here is his grimoire. He wanted you to have it." Morto passed over a small volume bound in leather and brass. Lan took it as if it would bite.
" It' s yours. You' re his son."
" I cannot use it. I have no talent at all for magic, much to his disgust." Emotion returned to Morto' s voice and color rose in his blanched cheeks. " He was a harsh master and an unloving father." Tears choked him now. " But still I loved him and believed in what he had to do."
Together the three of them, two humans and one arachnid, buried the sorcerer. The glassy plain of Mount Tartanius' s mesa proved hard to dig in, but the combined assault of Lan' s sword and Krek' s talons, with Morto' s blind determination, finally cut the grave.
" I don' t know what words to say," said Lan after they' d finished covering over the body. " I wish now that Ehznoll were here."