Sorcerer's Son (50 page)

“Don’t be afraid, my darlings,” she whispered to all of them, stroking the pony gently and rubbing her cheek against the nearest fluttering wings at her shoulder. “All will be well, I promise. All will be well.”

When they had taken some measure of calm from her nearness, Delivev directed the spiders to the outside wall of the castle, to fashion a gossamer cloak for Spinweb, to cover the ivy, which was already shriveling from the heat of the blaze. Then she mounted the longest flight of steps in the building, snakes and birds trailing behind her, until she emerged in the open air at the top of the tallest tower. The burning trees were just below her there, crackling all around like a sea of rippling light; and smoke swirled everywhere, driven by the slight, steady wind. Delivev drew a kerchief of spidersilk from her sleeve and draped it over her head, to keep the acrid fumes away. Gazing out at the world through gauzy protection, she raised her arms and sent out her summons.

Beyond the fire, beyond the forest, where not even the faintest smudge of smoke could be seen, they answered her call. As demons were drawn to rings, so Delivev’s creatures responded to her command. Spiders that had never known her touch left their webs, left their meals, left their egg sacs to answer. Snakes came out of their nests, down from trees, out from under boulders, to heed the call. Ivy and morning glories and climbing roses and wild grapevines pulled up their roots and eased along the ground, tendrils plunging like centipede‘ legs. Not toward Spinweb did they travel, but to Ringforge, to the attack. Like a living carpet the creatures moved, plant and animal, leafy and scaly and chitinous.

The vanguard of Delivev’s army swarmed upon the plain before Ringforge, and the first sprigs of ivy had begun to scale those polished walls before Rezhyk realized that he, too, was under siege.

“But how did it happen?” gasped Cray.

“She sent a cool note in reply to his reply,” said Gildrum. “Cool, but polite, I thought; she asked him to try to find out what had happened to you. He took it as a declaration of war. He decided she hadn’t believed him when he said he knew no more about you.”

“Guilty conscience,” said Cray. “What about my mother?”

“We can’t touch her in Spinweb, of course. Nor the castle itself. But when the burning trees begin to fall against the walls we can pile more wood on top of them, and more and more. Even stone walls will crumble, eventually, from such heat. And the forest is large, Cray. A large fuel supply.”

Cray’s lips tightened. “Webs can hold the heat off.”

“Forever?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen flame leave them unharmed, but—”

“But never so much flame.”

Cray shook his head. “Will he keep on if he sees that nothing comes of his fire?”

“He said he would not rest until she died.”

“All right. We must act now.”

“Are you ready?”

“I have to be ready, don’t I?” He swam to the doorway, looked out at the demons flailing each other with their swords of cloud. “Hear me, my friends!” Cray shouted. “Hear me!” A moment passed before the clatter of weapons ceased, fighters reluctant to leave off pressing an advantage. They turned to him, though, at last, their weapons still in the clear blue of Air.

“I must ask that you fulfill our bargain,” said Cray. “I need your help now, in my own world.”

The demons muttered among themselves, and one voice piped, “We’ve hardly had a chance to practice your lessons. You’ve hardly given us any lessons!”

“I have done as well as I could in the time I have worked with you,” said Cray. “And I promise to return and continue teaching, after the battle is over.”

“But you may not survive the battle‘” said the demon. “You may be killed, and then what will we have? The empty promises of a dead human.”

“I assure you, you will not be more unhappy about that than I.”

“A few more lessons, human,” said another demon. “I have just begun to understand how this game is properly played.”

Cray shook his head. “I must go now. I would wish to believe that demons keep their promises as well as humans do.”

The demon that Cray had fought spoke up; Cray recognized the voice immediately: “I’m with you, human. I’ll keep my bargain.”

“I thank you,” Cray said. “And what of you others?”

A few came forward, but not the majority. Most hung back, swords twitching in their hands, as if eager to return to exercise

Cray crossed his arms upon his chest “I’ll make you all a better bargain,” he said. “Everyone who joins me in this endeavor shall be freed. If I survive.”

“Freed?” muttered a demon near him but not among those who had given him their allegiance. “To free us you must first enslave us.”

“Yes,” said Cray. “I will have to make rings for each of you, but if only you will tell me your names, that will not be such a difficult task. And I swear that any demon I summon with a pair of rings shall be freed immediately. Wait—I’ll prove it to you.” He touched the one ring he wore, and very quickly Yra appeared, streaking toward him from the boundary of Fire.

“My lord?” said the fire demon.

Cray took the gold band from his finger and, laying it on the palm of his hand, offered it to Yra. “I free you, slave,” he said loudly. “You are bound to me no longer. Take this as a sign of your freedom.”

Yra swooped upon Cray’s hand and enveloped the golden circlet with pale, translucent flame. Cray withdrew his hand, and Yra’s flame intensified, became opaque and sharp-edged, almost tangible, and heat flowed from it in one sudden blast. Then the glow paled once more, cooled, and Yra bobbed slightly before Cray. All trace of the golden ring was gone.

“Thank you, Cray Ormoru,” said Yra. “No slave could have wished for a kinder master.”

“You served me well, Yra. You deserve your freedom.”

“Serving you has not been difficult. And, if you will allow it, though I am small and weak, still I would stay with you, my former master, and help you in whatever way I can. You said you would show me your world someday.”

Cray smiled. “And so I shall, good Yra. I am grateful for your offer and accept it gladly.” He shifted his gaze from the ball of light that was no longer his slave to the line of demon combatants, still hanging back. “Well, my friends? Do you doubt me now?”

“It is a small demon,” said one of them. “Of little value to you. You lose nothing by freeing it.”

“Every demon has some value,” said Cray.

“And mine is greater than that one’s. How do I know you will free me when the battle is over?”

“I give you my word.”

“Oh, yes, surely. But how do I know?”

“I believe you!” roared the first whom Cray had called friend, the one who had joined him before any of the others. “I believe you, and to prove my belief, I will tell you my name, Cray Ormoru.” A few of the other demons began to murmur “No” and “Fool,” before this one continued, “I am Arvad. Cast you a ring for that name, and I am yours.”

“And free as soon as I have done it,” said Cray, thrusting his hand toward the demon. When Arvad made no move to clasp the hand with any demon appendage, Cray explained, “We humans often seal a bargain by joining hands.”

Arvad laughed lightly. “Well, I will be human for a moment, then.” But instead of loosing sword or shield to disencumber a hand, the demon grew another, with five stubby, splayed fingers, and clenched Cray’s hand in it

“Who else will join me?” Cray asked the crowd.

“Free Arvad first,” said one of the demons who hung back. “Then we shall give the matter more thought.”

“I have no time,” said Cray. “I must go now.” He glanced about at the score of demons who surrounded him, the volunteers. “If these are the only ones who will follow me, let it be so.” To them he said, “You must obey my orders, but if one of you devises some better plan than I offer, don’t be afraid to speak. I am a novice at this.”

“And so are we,” said Arvad. “Some of us have never even visited the human world.”

“Some? Not all?”

“I have been there once,” said Arvad. “I know a tree from a rock.”

“Good” said Cray. He turned to Gildrum, who waited with Elrelet just inside the house. “Have we wasted too much time, Gildrum?”

“I think not. Time moves more quickly here, remember. And the battle will rage long

They have very different powers, but they are not so unevenly matched, those two.”

“Well, I hope we may make the difference.”

“You should have made rings,” muttered Elrelet. “Then you would have the lot of them.”

“I think you overestimate my speed, good Elrelet. But that’s as may be. Now I must take my leave of you.”

“Not at all,” said Elrelet. “I’m coming along. I may not be able to take part in your battle, but I can watch. I’ve not come this far to let the rest go!”

“Come,” said Gildrum. “I must return to my duties.”

“Which are

?” said Cray.

“Burning trees.”

Gildrum left him high above Spinweb, supported by a dozen air demons. Nearby hovered the rest of Cray’s army—two pearly bubbles, three glittering snowflakes, and two blobs of pale light, one of which was Yra. Elrelet floated by his ear, a dark smudge.

“Look down,” said Elrelet

Cray looked, and the vertigo that he had lost in Air so long ago reclaimed him for a moment, for there was a down; he could feel it pulling at him, through the cushion of air demons. Down was where the ground lay, beneath the blue sky of the human world that so resembled the emptiness of Air, save for the intolerable bright spot of the sun. Down was where the smoke boiled from flaming trees, and birds erupted each time a new crown of leaves caught fire. Down was Spinweb, ringed by roiling blackness, untouched in the midst of destruction. It looked like a toy from Cray’s distance. He could smell the smoke, like a campfire of green wood.

“That is my home,” said Cray. “We will protect it. Within is my mother, and we will protect her, even if the home itself cannot be saved.” The vertigo was passing now. “Water demons,” he said. “There is a river in that direction.” He pointed northwestward. “You can almost see it from here. Fetch water from it and splash those flames.” They soared away, giant raindrops falling sideways.

“How much water can they bring?” said Elrelet They are far outnumbered by Rezhyk’s fire demons. Those will dry the forest and set it aflame again and again.“

Cray scanned the ground. “Where are her forces? Surely she has counterattacked by now.”

“There,” said Elrelet, nudging Cray’s head to the right with a gentle gust of air. “That line of black on the horizon. You’ll have to move closer for a proper view.”

Cray gave the command, and the air demons carried him north, toward Ringforge. When almost there he bade them stop, for the sky was filled with the smoke he had seen from afar. One of the demons enveloped him with pure air that he might observe the fray without choking.

Below was the true battlefield, a forest blaze to make the fire about Spinweb pale in comparison. Ringforge occupied the center of a vast open space, and the whole surface of the space was coated with char, as if soot had dropped out of the sky upon it. Where the forest began, an enormous circle about the castle was burning, a dozen trees deep. And behind that circle, visible through rustling leaves as an intermittent bubbling, churning motion on the forest floor, were Delivev’s creatures. Silent, relentless, they pressed against the barrier of heat and flame and demons. A thousand creatures died each moment, snuffed to ash, yet as many joined the rear of their ranks, continually pushing ahead, ready to sacrifice themselves for their master.

“This is a fight she cannot win,” whispered Elrelet. “Fire is too powerful for her.”

“Then we must make up for some of her weakness,” said Cray. He directed the ice demons to skim over a portion of the barrier and send waves of cold to counteract the searing heat, and all but his enveloping air demon to blow the flame in that area back toward Ringforge and keep it from spreading farther. The sky about him, already dark with smoke, darkened still further as his air demons expanded into thunderheads and swooped low upon the fray. Among the clouds and smoke, Cray could see their lightning vying with the redder flares of Rezhyk’s hordes. Sparks from the burning trees showered the bare ground that rimmed Ringforge.

Elrelet whispered in his ear: “Now that you have joined the fight, you must hide yourself. You have no castle walls to protect you from Lord Rezhyk’s wrath.”

“Am I not safe enough up here? He will think I am a bird. If he looks up. I don’t see him. I think he’s afraid to come out, Elrelet, afraid he might be injured by some chance good fortune of the enemy. I’ll ride a higher breeze if you insist, but I’ll not leave the battle.”

“I cannot command you, Cray Ormoru.”

They soared upward.

“He has called demons back from Spinweb,” observed Elrelet. “To combat your forces.”

“Good. Less to threaten her.”

Elrelet sighed. “How much will it matter? One or two or five demons less. The forest about Spinweb still burns.”

“Look!” said Cray, pointing downward. “Some ivy has broken through—I can see the green moving against the ground.”

“Yes,” said Elrelet. “But Lord Rezhyk has held some servants back upon the walls of Ringforge, and the ivy will be brown soon enough. There. There. You see, Cray, how hopeless it is. You should have made rings.”

“I’d still be making them,” said Cray. “And the forest would still be burning.”

A thunderhead rose from the battle, dwindled, and approached Cray to speak in Arvad’s voice. “You said if any of us had plans to offer we should tell you.”

“Yes. Yes.”

“I have one, but it demands that we demons withdraw from the fight for a short time. All of us.”

“Withdraw? To do what?”

“To go back to our world.”

“Go back? But why?”

“To speak to the others, the ones who would not come.”

Cray’s brows knit. “You think you can change their minds?”

“I don’t know, but

Cray Ormoru, friend, this fight is lost. There are too few of us.”

“We mustn’t give up!”

“I don’t wish to. If my plan fails

I will be back. And these others, too, so they have said. But I thought we should tell you, before we leave, that we are not deserting you.”