Dragon Ultimate (36 page)

"Boy can't fight for two dragons. Jumble broke the rules. He not supposed to go down into the swamp. Not alone. We trained to keep in line, always fight beside the other dragons, don't fight alone since we sprats. That's basic. Dragon surrounded by imps is a dead dragon, when we learn that, age three? Jumble must have forgot the lessons."

"Yeah. Wish I'd just noticed. Feel I didn't do enough."

"Death come to us all. Jumble know that."

"They never found his body."

"They kill him later, like in the city of the Evil Rock."

"Yes. Probably. I've heard they kill dragons for their magic powers."

Bazil's eyes glowed momentarily, the big hands clutched. "Someday we kill them, that for sure."

"Someday."

"When dragon die, his shade goes to the red stars. Whichever is in the sky at the time. There we all join with the gods and become one. Jumble will be there before the rest of us, that is all."

"Too many old friends up there, way too many."

"But we still live. Came close a few times, yes? Remember Nessi?"

"Yeah, of course."

"And Kepabar?"

"Oh, yeah. So many old friends. We picked the wrong time to be in the Legions if we'd wanted the peaceful life. Thirty years ago maybe, but not now."

"We got that rock though, stupid rock! Smashed it…"

Bazil's words brought back that day in Tummuz Orgmeen, when the Doom had fallen. "Who could ever forget?"

"Boy throw this dragon the sword, just in time. By the breath, it was close."

"It was close, Baz, it was very close."

Hand and talon clasped once more in friendship.

Waakzaam stood on the hill above the pyre. Men and bewks were still adding wood and brush to it. The dragon was bound to a tree trunk laid across the middle. The preparations were all in order.

It was a terrible thing that he was about to do. Dread magic that tore at the heart of the very stuff of the universe. But it was not his problem, it was theirs, the oathbreakers! After Orthond he had warned them. They had definitely interfered here on Ryetelth, the oldest of all the worlds, and left him no choice. He would therefore have to take his complaints directly to them. He would show them what their oathbreaking would cost!

Their little coup on Orthond had almost caught him out, but he'd survived, by the nimblest of retreats through the dark ether of the subworlds, pursued by Thingweights, back to Haddish. The Thingweights had come horribly close, but he'd beaten them and cut the mirror behind himself a second before the first tentacle could reach it.

In Haddish he'd withdrawn to his high chamber and pondered the situation carefully.

The children of Los, the Lord of Light, how he regretted that he had not smashed them in that first aeon, when he could. But then his spirit had been larger and his humor less dark. He had signed the great treaty in that generous spirit and been repaid with nothing but betrayal.

Of course, they were usually unsuccessful in opposing him. He had marched across twelve entire worlds and brought them under his rule, and they had been unable to stop him. Still, they were an annoyance, wheedling and warring to halt his projects. They were among those who sought actively to bring him down and force him to surrender his glorious existence.

So, naturally he had been angered by this interference with his work. He had almost finished cleansing Orthond. It would soon have been time to repopulate it with beings of a more cooperative type. His work would then have been done.

All ruined now. All that warfare had been for nothing. Now he would be unable to bring Orthond back to the glory he had in mind for it. But he had told himself that he must not retaliate. At least not directly, for he had sworn not to, back in the First Aeon, long long ago. Instead he had taken himself to Ryetelth.

They had interfered outrageously here, and so he was left with no alternative, but to take the hammer to them. He knew where they were and what they most feared. He knew how to bring them low!

With the strength taken from the dragon he would be unstoppable. He would build a magical construct so huge and powerful that his enemies would quake in terror at the mere sight of it. And to build the Black Mirror he would make use of Munth. The mirror had to be of great intensity to bridge the vast gap that lay ahead. Munth's miserable life would provide just the right spark.

He scanned the sky; there were clouds in the north. That would be useful soon. But first, there was the hag to deal with.

Waakzaam strode back to his tent, a wide rectangular pavilion that encompassed a space for his experiments. He was not sleeping during this expedition, so his sarcophagus was not present.

There, hanging in chains from the tent pole, was Lessis of Valmes. On the table were several cages containing some of his current experiments. He was investigating the capabilities of certain interesting parasitic worms.

"There you are," he said with a cheerful laugh and a clap of his huge hands as if he were some kindly uncle.

Lessis made no reply, but watched him coolly. He had left her a shift, but no other covering, so she was cold. There were many burn marks on her body and many, many welts. The inquisition had made a strenuous effort to get her to talk.

However, Lessis was far too stubborn for mere pain to make her answer his questions. And he had not been able to force his way into her thoughts. He had clawed at her mind, tried to crush her with his own vast mental power, but she was elusive. She retained her own mind, and this infuriated him.

"You continue to resist me, but I think we will change your mind." He came close, examining her with a practiced, callous eye. His insanity glowed in his eyes.

"You are in contact with the Sinni. You deny it, but I know you understand the name. They are behind this, the children of Los."

He paused a moment, contemplating the distant past. "Los was my own brother, you know."

"And blessed the world long ago with his grace. Once you were fit to stand beside him. You have fallen far from those days, have you not?"

"Oh, listen to you, as if one can make revolutions without some loss of life. These worlds needed to be kicked out of their sleepy complacency. We must climb to the heights, not wallow in mediocrity."

"That is why you have to destroy entire populations?"

"You know it's necessary sometimes."

"You are not a god. We are all children in the Hand of the Mother. It is not your right to slay any being. You aren't even supposed to be alive still. You have cheated the world by not doing your duty."

"So you say. I say that I am building a more glorious world and that my great life is an inspiration to the worlds beyond worlds. They see in my gleaming achievement the life to emulate."

"Achievement? Life supported by endless killing."

"Of course, you fool. Life involves killing. We must revel in all the aspects of life, including the slaughter of the innocent!"

The Lord's perfect face broke into a malevolent smile.

"Well, I will be leaving you now. I am going to smash them. You know who I mean. They think they're above all this. Well,

I'm going to show them that interfering with my plans is a bad idea. I will finish with them for good."

Lessis struggled to speak in a calm, quiet voice. "In fact, Great Lord, the problem you have is that you have slowly weakened over the aeons you have lived. The very act of living has used up your vast strength, and you have grown weak. You have come to enjoy cruelty, and this indulgence has finally sapped your mind. You are insane."

He laughed for a moment. "Yes, I know. Isn't it wonderful?" He leered at her with his perfect lips and completely insane eyes, now gold, now blue, now gold again.

"And while I'm gone, the Neild will use you in my next series of experiments with the blue worms."

There was a poor young girl in a cage, infected with these vile things. Her body was covered in enormous purple boils, inside which the worms thrived and laid their eggs. The eggs dripped constantly from the suppurating boils. Despite her best efforts not to, Lessis shuddered. Give me the strength to serve you, Great Mother, she prayed silently.

He laughed again, noticing the sag in her expression. "When I get back, you'll be just like the one in the cage."

He left her to contemplate that and went down to the pyre.

At his command the thing was lit. The oil-soaked wood soon caught.

Poor Jumble cursed them in dragonspeech for as long as he could. The fire mounted rapidly, and a vast cloud of smoke boiled up into the sky.

Waakzaam stood forth and roared the syllables of power, his terrible voice challenging the cries of Jumble's agony. So loud did the clamor grow that men turned aside with their fingers in their ears and crouched down, their spirits utterly abased. The flames were shooting fifty feet into the air when Jumble finally expired and the Lord received the green fire from the sky. Never had it flashed down for so long. The world seemed about to be split in twain by the thunder.

Munth, formerly General Munth, stood there rooted to the spot ten feet behind the giant figure of the Lord Lapsor. Some spell held him in thrall, so that he was unable to move a muscle unless allowed by the Lord. Thus, he could do nothing except pray fervently that his end would be brief. He'd seen enough to know that the alternatives were appalling.

The Lord had absorbed the enormous bolt of lightning from the sky. The green fire had bathed him and everyone else in its heat, so that they flinched and turned away. Looking back, one expected nothing but a pile of ashes to be visible, but the Lord remained there, fist raised defiantly to the sky, now empty of clouds. For a while he stood there, shaking and quivering slightly, his face contorted into a grimace. Then he stepped back and stood before Munth, towering over him.

"General, I had such high hopes for you."

Munth could barely grunt a response.

"But you failed me, Munth. Failed me when I most needed a victory. I cannot accept failure like that."

"I'm sorry, Lord," Munth managed to say.

"Oh I'm sure you are, Munth, I'm sure you are. And a sorry sight, too!" He smiled with a strangely hateful malice. "But I intend to get some use out of you anyway."

The Lord picked Munth up as if he were no more than a child and held him high on raised arms. He turned and advanced on the fire while roaring out syllables of power. The fire was burning with renewed vigor, having just been stirred up by men with long shovels. The heat could be felt at a hundred feet. Munth looked up into the dark sky and felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. He had risen so far, and had almost won a great victory. It was hard to end like this.

But, he consoled himself at the last moment, it was probably better than going back to Padmasa. For that would have entailed a final trip to the Deeps to be quizzed by the Masters and then thrown to the carnivorous hordes of cockroaches that seethed in the bottoms of the Deeps.

Still roaring the syllables of power, Waakzaam tossed Munth onto the fire. The fire was large enough to provide an almost instantaneous death, and thus a perfectly balanced jolt of released life force on which to thrust his magic. The balance was very important, for this magic would project him an immense distance in time and space.

Waakzaam raised his hands again and uttered more syllables packed with power. There was a harsh sizzling sound, and a Black Mirror opened in the air before him.

Before the stunned audience of Baguti riders, he stepped in and vanished. The mirror swallowed him with a harsh crackling sound. A moment later the mirror vanished with a final seething roar.

For a long moment no one moved. The fire continued to blaze, sparks flying high above, but the rest of the tableau remained motionless. Then cautiously at first, but with increasing speed, the Baguti departed. Many mounted up and rode away northward. A foolhardy few tried to loot the tents. The Padmasan men stood guard over some of the tents, however, and prevented the Baguti from more than a symbolic bit of loot.

Up the slope, hidden in the grass that fringed the top, Lagdalen and Giles watched the scene.

"What was that, Lady?" said Giles when his ears had stopped buzzing. His face was slack from the shock of what he had witnessed.

"That was a Black Mirror. Our great enemy has left our world."

"I'll take your word for it." Giles hugged himself. He still had spots in front of his eyes from the awesome green lightning.

"The Lady Lessis is in that big tent. She is alive. That is all I can sense."

"Thank you, Giles. You have done well. I know it was hard for you to be this close."

"He burned so hot in my mind. Now everything is cold. I know you are right when you say he has gone from our world. But where could he go? I do not understand."

"Nor do I, Giles. Perhaps the Lady will tell us when we free her."