Yes, there was symbolism in concealing these things in a sword. Regis and I, Hastur and Alton — sword and hand-could never join power to strength without exhaustion, nerve depletion and death — unless Callina were between us. The explanation swam up from somewhere in our linked minds. Comyn race-memory, perhaps, for they were not conscious memories. And Regis himself was the focus, the energy-source, the matrix if you will, through which, by means of the talisman sword, we could tap the energy-source and power of Aldones. Son of Hastur who was the son of Light — we stood close to what my race called a God.
My acquired knowledge knew this was a rational thing, science, mechanical and explainable; but there was a residue I could not explain. The feel of an actual living entity behind the Sword obsessed me.
I had felt the daemon-touch of Sharra. This was not evil — and somehow, that frightened me more. Infinite good is as terrifying as infinite evil.
But I was still physically weak, and Regis (Guard your strength, Lew, you will need it soon!) dissolved the linkage. I almost regretted it; a man’s mind is a fearfully lonely place. Yet I could not have borne much more.
Regis touched Callina’s arm. “Don’t wait too long,” he warned, and went away.
I feared that she, too, would withdraw; but, still tentative, she remained in contact, an immeasurable comfort. Her fingers laced in mine; closer yet was the delicate caress of her thoughts, and as I lay there, my face resting against her knees, I felt again a familiar, cool sweetness. The women tangled again in my thoughts, like the prism facets of a jewel.
How long the interval lasted I have no idea, but with a suddenness terrific in its impact, we both felt Regis, a desperate clamor in our minds, and knew that he had unsheathed the Sword.
And even as that warning rang out, space reeled, and we were flung together into the great courtyard of the Comyn Castle. Before us Regis stood, braced and erect, and in his hand the Sword of Aldones — live, shimmering blue from hilt to point. I caught my breath, and Callina cried out, a strange wordless cry; then she reached out, drew our three hands together on the sword-hilt and we were ONE.
Through my suddenly-extended senses, I made out, at the far end of the court, a wavering black mist through which pulsed strange flame. Sharra’s fires! Hell-fires! I sensed, rather than saw, the other triad there;
Kadarin, Thyra, and Dyan Ardais.
The sight maddened me. For an instant I was one person again, and I leaped at Dyan, pulling out of the linkage. But as I touched him the blue lightning exploded, and we were flung apart; for Kadarin faced Regis, the Sharra sword naked in his hands.
But this time the swords did not short-circuit in flames. I was aware of a luminous mist that surged from the Sword of Aldones; wrapped Regis in a rainbow aurora,,glowed like a cape around Callina’s shoulders, folded me in lucent brilliance. It licked out at the darkness that was Sharra. And in that dark center, like figures of smoke, Kadarin and Dyan and Thyra pulsed with the beating heart of the Thing they had evoked.
Darkness, comet-shot with the lightning that flared from the matrix-swords, crossing and recrossing. It was not Regis and Kadarin fighting with identically forged swords. It was not even matrix warring against spacetwisting matrix, or linked minds against linked minds. No. Something tangible and alive and intelligent fought behind them. Regis and Kadarin were only the poles of their power. The real forces were not warring in this world at all, or the planet would have been torn from its orbit and sent reeling through the dark night of space forever.
But enough projected here to be dangerous. Kadarin, beaten back, snatched hastily at his belt; with a quick, deadly flick, his knife flashed, and I was so much a part of Regis that for a moment I did not know whether it had struck him or myself. Only the deadly searing pain in my heart, and I felt, not saw, the Sword of Aldones drop from a limp hand. Regis slipped to the paving-stones. But he was still part of the linkage; as Kadarin drew himself upright, I lunged to grip the Sword of Aldones. Using it — only as a sword now — I drove the point through Kadarin’s heart. He fell without, a cry. Sharra’s matrix-sword clattered on the pavement. I wrenched the Sword of Aldones free. It was over.
The luminous haze coiled up; the black mist pulsed and weakened, linkages broken. Then, abruptly, I leaped back for Regis was incredibly on his feet again. He caught the Sword of Aldones from my hand. There was a stain of blood on his shirt, but he seemed unwounded; untouched. The threefold linkage snapped together again. Behind us, Callina stood, blazing at Thyra with a strange terrible intense stare. Thyra, too, stood locked, intent, motionless. None of us had uttered a single sound since the cry that had announced our coming.
A slim, girlish form burst suddenly from an opened door and ran madly, as if compelled, toward Dyan. Kathie! A few inches short of where he stood, she stopped, digging in her heels in panic terror; but Dyan caught her about the waist with one arm and snatched up the Sharra-sword. Kathie screamed. She had been immune; but now, my block withdrawn from her mind, her blindness to Darkovan forces was withdrawn. Linnell’s duplicate — with Linnell’s powers. Dyan forced her savagely into the Sharra triad. Kathie and Dyan and Thyra seemed almost to coalesce, to flow together.
The Sword of Aldones stirred like a live thing. Then Callina flung up her free arm and with all the concentrated force of a Comyn Keeper, wrenched Thyra out of the Sharra triad. It was only telepathic contact; not our deeply-molded rapport. I saw the lightning blast over Dyan, beat at him, and Callina’s cry rang in my brain.
“Now, Lew! Now!”
Desperately, a bare chance, I forced a wedge between Dyan and his pawn. Kadarin had been taken so far into Sharra that he could not withdraw. Hate Dyan as he would and did, they were sealed together. But Thyra might be still vulnerable. I sent, frantically, one thought to Thyra.
Marja! Marja is dead! Dyan killed her!
Thyra moved like a striking snake. She wrenched the Sharra matrix from Dyan’s hand; and with all the fury and rage and concentrated power of a mind trained by Kadarin, turned on him. And all the concentrated force of my Alton Gift struck through her as I, once sealed to Sharra, turned that full force-flow on Dyan.
And I saw Dyan crumple, shrivel and fall to the pavement, his mind thinned and gone. Stone dead.
The black mist pulsed like a heartbeat. It was trying to draw me into it! For a moment Regis and Kathie were flung out of the triads and for a moment it was threefold; Thyra, in Sharra; Callina, in Aldones; and I, pole of power, caught between them in that terrible struggle.
But our threefold linkage was stronger; the link broke and I was free of Thyra — and Sharra. In the storms of living light Callina and I moved close, Callina’s hand insulating Regis’ hand from mine on sword hilt, her mind guarding us one from the other. If Regis and I had directly touched minds, if we had even physically touched hands, the power would have seared us to cinders.
The pulsing black mist swept back, gathering itself for fresh assault, coagulating around Thyra and the dead men.
And Kadarin rose!
He was dead. He must have been dead. Yet horribly, with the galvanic movements of a strung puppet, he rose. I saw the blackness shake itself as three hands met on Sharra’s hilt. Fire-colors gleamed in its depth, and there was a tall shining in the black mist, that swept on us. The three shadows twisted like smoke. Then, through the darkness, the face looked out. The face I had seen on the black night when terror walked in the Comyn and Linnell died.