World of Mazes
Robert E. Vardeman
CHAPTER ONE
" Die, fool, die!" screeched the sorcerer.
Lan Martak couldn' t take his eyes off the ghastly sight hovering before him. Claybore had joined his severed, fleshless skull to the torso in the coffin. The combination, gave the mage even more power. And shining brightly in the sorcerer' s chest cavity was the Kinetic Sphere, that magical device allowing movement at will between different worlds. It pulsed pinkly, a heart for a being without mercy.
Lan felt the magics crackling and humming about him. Although Claybore lacked arms and hands to point a spell, his powers were awesome. The man felt as if a giant hand was crushing his chest, squeezing the breath from his lungs, ripping the life from his body. He had come to the top of majestic Mount Tartanius in hope of recovering the Kinetic Sphere; Claybore had gotten here first. Now Lan Martak' s life was forfeit- and worse.
His giant spider companion, Krek, would also die with him. And Inyx, lovely Inyx, remained trapped between worlds. Without the Kinetic Sphere to free her, she would roam, more ghost than human, for all eternity, lost, alone, enduring pain beyond the realm of the physical.
He had failed, failed, failed.
The iron bands around Lan' s chest tightened as Claybore augmented his spell. The immense altitude at the mountain- top did little in aiding Lan' s gasping efforts to suck in more oxygen. Everything worked against him. Pinned like a bug in an entymologist' s collection, he looked around the small stone shrine in panic. Krek, as tall and powerful as he was, couldn' t help. Their other companions were likewise incapacitated. The ancient mage Abasi- Abi lay dying on the floor. His son Morto lacked any expertise in spell casting. And the fanatical pilgrim Ehznoll had been cast aside like a rag doll.
" Die, Lan Martak," crowed Claybore. The hollows where eyes had once resided in his skull glowed a dull red. At any moment twin beams of ruby death would surge forth and snuff out life.
Lan fought. In vain. The rejoining of skull with torso had given Claybore too much power.
The man felt life slipping from his body. The death beams wouldn' t be needed.
A scream of rage and indignation from Ehznoll gave Lan a spurt of energy to resist. The pilgrim rose, obviously in extreme agony, and rushed toward the floating form of the sorcerer.
" Blasphemer!" cried Ehznoll. His mindless charge sent him smashing into the sorcerer. Claybore shrieked obscenities, then diabolical spells- but it was too late. The pilgrim' s momentum carried human and human parody over the rim of the mountain. The instant Claybore vanished from sight, the spell lifted from Lan Martak.
He gasped, recovered, then dashed forward. Tumbling over and over, Ehznoll slowly vanished from sight. Alongside the pilgrim spun a pink pulsation. Lan tensed. A brilliant flare seared his eyes. He raised a hand to shield his vision from the light; Claybore had used the Kinetic Sphere glowing in his cold chest cavity to switch worlds.
Lan Martak lived. But he had also failed. Now he had to face that soul- devouring fact every day of his life. 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. 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, 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 coppery- furred arachnid, " I have discovered no other cenotaph off this world. With the 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 are oneway gates. Many have entered this world only to find no 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 severely injured him."
" Worse. His son Morto tends him, as is proper."
" Maybe my healing spells can do something for him."
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 yellowed 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.
" I didn' t know," explained Lan. " I thought all Claybore wanted was the Sphere. I see it all now. He' s rebuilding his body."
" 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; with the body it is an even more potent pairing, 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, not 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."