The Shards (40 page)

Read The Shards Online

Authors: Gary Alan Wassner

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: The Shards
6.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Chapter Forty-two

She traveled so quickly across the sky that it took her own breath away. Her legs straddled the broad back of the horse, and she was exhilarated by the experience like never before. Fire streaked from the animal, and it lit up the atmosphere eerily as they sped over the towns and villages dotting the countryside. Margot relished the thought that those below must be cowering in fear at the sight of her astride this frightening beast, blatantly invading their territory without any fear of recrimination. She was swollen with glory and dizzied with hubris. But, somewhere deep within her lay the embers of a fear that she would not allow to ignite; a fear that lurked beneath the surface of her consciousness. It smoldered and sparked, and caused her to gag and shiver, but she repressed it and forced the heavy blanket of her boundless joy to smother it, though it could not put it out entirely.

He picked me,
she thought, and her body tingled all over.
I am his sword! I am his Chosen!

She reached inside her cape and grasped the ebon orb that he had given her. It was hot to the touch, and though it hurt her to keep it within her grasp, she was reluctant to let it go. The pain was almost pleasurable and she shook her head at that thought, confused by this realization.

I will die for him if I must!
she thought.
Nothing can thwart me ever again. He has blessed me. I can endure anything for him.

The beast crossed the land so rapidly that she could barely determine where they now were. The air struck her in the face with such force that she had to close her eyes entirely for a time. And, it was growing cold! In fact, she was shivering all over, and her breath blew out from her mouth and nose in billows of thick, almost frozen fog. She grasped the orb tighter though it felt as if her fingers were afire from the touch. The landscape constantly changed beneath her and the snow soon disappeared, she was traveling with such enormous speed. Shortly, the air became warm and dry and the ground beneath her was flat and barren. The beast upon whose back she rode sped forward relentlessly.

A tower loomed in the distance and she recognized it immediately.

Sedahar!
she sighed inwardly, and the recognition both invigorated her once again, though it chilled her to the bone simultaneously.

The animal descended swiftly as the tower drew closer. They were moving so fast that it seemed as if they would crash right into the white stone, and she shielded her eyes with her free hand in anticipation. But, her protective action was unnecessary. The horse reared up before the castle and hovered in the air about ten feet above the ground. It then settled to the surface slowly and stretched its huge legs out in front of itself so that she could dismount. Its mane crackled and burned all around her, and its thick tail pitched fire to the left and to the right as it flicked back and forth. She slid from its back and hit the ground with a thud. No sooner did she regain her footing when the animal rose up and off the surface once again, and then it lifted its chiseled, blackened snout to the sky. Shrieking like no horse born of natural means, it quickly flew off and disappeared faster than her eyes could pursue it.

Standing alone before the gates of Sedahar, Margot was certain she had finally attained the high point of her life, the place of respect and approbation that she had worked for and deserved for so long. She felt like the Dark Lord’s Queen returning to her home.

One more task to perform for him and he will love me forever! My value will be proven for all to see. None will doubt me again
, she thought, as she neared the huge doors that swung open at her approach.

She untied the string that held her cape closed and let it trail out behind her in the still air, like a ruler walking into court. Though no subjects lined the halls to greet her, she imagined what it would be like when next she returned victorious to Sedahar. In her delusion, she nodded to the left and to the right haughtily as she proceeded down the wide hallway.

She knew instinctively where to go. It was not necessary to think about it at all. Though the hallways seemed never-ending and the lavish trappings of Castle Sedahar were awe-inspiring, she barely noticed them. One chamber faded into the next as she made her way to the stairway that would take her down into the depths where Premoran was sequestered; magically shackled and pinned to the foundation wall. A flutter of fear surfaced at the thought of the wizard, and she grasped the orb more forcefully in response.

Margot flung the final door open and stepped across the threshold. A carved stone stairway towered before her, winding into the darkness, suspended over the molten pit that lay beneath the castle.

Bursts of fire erupted from below and shot high into the hot, moist air. She could feel the craven power everywhere; in the air, in the rock upon which she stood, coursing throughout her body and resonating animatedly in the depths of her perverted soul. Her lips curled upward into a wicked smile, and she screamed like a savage with primal satisfaction into the vast emptiness that surrounded her.

The noise seemed to echo endlessly in the massive space, and it empowered her even more to hear it over and over again. She stepped onto the path and then began the long walk over the burning chasm to the chamber beyond where Premoran was. Her skin prickled and stung from the heat that rose up and over her, but she found it strangely satisfying. The hem of her garment caught fire and she even allowed that to burn for a moment before snuffing it out with her slippered foot. She felt invulnerable, as if nothing could harm her, and it pleased her to feel the pain as a reminder of her imagined invincibility.

A small doorway appeared in the wall in front of her as she neared the end of the staircase. Margot had no fear of the wizard. He had been held captive for weeks now, deprived of food and water and pinioned to the wall, unable to move. What strength he had left he required just to breathe! He would pose no threat to her at this point. She would remove his shackles from the wall and he would cower at her feet, still bound by them and by her!

I am the arm of the Dark Lord!
she thought, and she puffed her chest out before her as she walked.

From beneath the deafening shroud of arrogance that enveloped her mind, she could barely recall Colton’s warning. Premoran was no longer her master’s nemesis, but rather a cowed and ruined man, kept alive for one reason only. His days were numbered. She only needed to bring him, like a plow horse in harness, to Colton’s side, and he would be forever grateful to her and he would honor her as she so deserved. She was the master now!

The door flew open as she approached it and she strode through it without hesitation. It slammed shut behind her and all signs of the entryway vanished as if had never been there. She raised her arm and willed a light to ignite upon the wall beside her. The air was musty and smelled of death, and the room was barren save for a pedestal of stone in the very middle of the floor. The ceiling was incredibly high, and it seemed as if the chamber could have contained the heavens themselves within it. Margot walked over to the seat that Colton had clearly created for himself and she sat down regally upon it, and then she tossed her cape out behind her arrogantly.

In front of her, suspended by five glowing bands of light, the wizard hung from the wall spread-eagled. There was a band around each of his ankles, one around each of his wrists, and one encircled his neck. His feet were barely one foot off of the ground, but just beyond its reach. His beard had grown long and straggly, and his forehead was streaked with sweat and grime. The grey cape that dangled from his shoulders was tattered and threadbare. But his eyes remained open and sharp, and they followed Margot unblinking as she strode across the floor.

She unwittingly gripped the ebon orb inside her cloak a bit harder, and she forced herself to stare back at him. His face was expressionless, though his eyes spoke volumes. His contempt for her was almost tangible.

“How does it feel, old man?” she hissed from her perch in the center of the room. “Last we met, if I recall, you were a bit more dignified. I had forgotten the encounter until now. It seems that seeing you again has rekindled my memory.”

Premoran said not a word. He moved not a muscle. But his blue eyes followed her like a Moulant’s upon its prey.

“Though I am so enjoying our reunion, we have little time to chat. Your brother wishes me to escort you to his side. It seems he needs your services one final time,” she said, and she glanced casually from side to side. “Another one of the cursed trees is dying,” she taunted. “Not quick enough for me. But it matters not. Soon they will all be no more.”

Margot rose and walked closer to the wall upon which Premoran hung. She slowly pulled the orb out from under her clothing and held it up before her. It glowed with a menacing inner light, and as if in reply, the shackles that bound the wizard also shone more brightly. Premoran cringed visibly in response, but his eyes never wavered.

“When I place this against the wall, you shall be released from your position, but you shall be bound to the stone still. The shackles will remain upon you, and if you attempt to flee or if you use any of your powers, they will constrict immediately. I will be unable to prevent them from killing you. Once set into motion, they will instantly seek to close the circle that they surround. And, alas, your limbs and neck will sadly be caught in the middle.”

Premoran followed her with his eyes as she approached the wall. He watched her as she lifted the black stone, and he hung there immobile and silent. She looked up at his face defiantly, needing to prove her power over him and her lack of fear for him, and she attempted to humble him once more by staring into his helpless eyes. She would not be intimidated by him now. He was vanquished and as weak as any commoner, and she was in control. The power coursed through her veins, and she gazed deep into his defeated eyes as she reached to touch the orb to the stone.

That was the moment he was waiting for. Before she was able to make the contact, he focused what strength he still had and he unleashed a bolt of white light that threw her backwards violently. She hit the stone pedestal hard and fell to the floor. Margot needed a moment to regain her breath, and she lay stunned for a second, but she did not let go of the orb.

“I underestimated you, wizard. I will not do so again,” she said, and she pushed herself up, red faced and humiliated. She straightened her clothing and smoothed her hair. Her pride was all that had been seriously injured, but for someone like her, that was more devastating than a mere physical blow would have been. “You should not have done that!” she said contemptuously, embarrassed by her show of weakness. “You think I am not a match for you?” she boasted. “I have his power within me!”

She walked slowly across the stone floor. As she neared him, she thrust her hand up. A blue-white fire buzzed and swirled around her fingers. She directed it toward the wizard’s chest. When it reached him, it wound itself around him like thousands of delicate spider webs, and then it began to constrict. Margot moved her fingers gracefully as if directing the motions of a puppet. She desired to inflict just the right amount of pain and fear without harming him too seriously.

Premoran gagged and his eyes bulged. Margot, driven by arrogance, her head swollen with power, pulled upon the strings a little bit harder in order to prove her dominance over him, and then suddenly, his eyes fell shut and his head lolled to the side. She dropped her arm with a start and approached the unmoving captive. He was not breathing and his skin was white and pallid!

“Open your eyes, old man!” she commanded, but he did not respond. “What trickery is this? Open your eyes, I said!” she repeated, though her voice now quivered slightly. “Look at me! I will not be fooled by you again.”

She dared not touch him, and she was reluctant to get too close to him this time, but it did not seem as if he was faking. Her stomach began to heave as she watched a small line of blood escape from the comer of his mouth and stain his beard as it trickled down. His body hung limp and motionless upon the wall.

What have I done!
she panicked.
He cannot be dead! Was he weaker from his captivity than I realized? Have I killed him?

Her heart pounded in her chest, racing to catch up to her fear, for she was completely overwhelmed with an uncontrollable, totally encompassing terror! She leaned in closer to him while every nerve in her body tensed and tingled horribly.

He must be playing me for a fool
, she thought, but she sensed no life left in him.
This cannot be! It cannot be! You cannot be dead!
her mind screamed.

“Wake up!” she shrieked, and in her fear and frustration, she grabbed him by the shoulders.

His hand shot out and clenched her wrist with the speed of a snake striking its prey, and his clear, blue eyes opened wide and caught her in their gaze. She had no time to react. Emotions overcame her at his mind’s touch; regrets and sadness, doubts and fears, and then terror; sheer and unmitigated terror. Without uttering a word, he flooded her body with an unendurable feeling of loss and pain, and she began to fall backward upon the stone surface as if in a dream. As she felt her consciousness slipping uncontrollably away, the chamber was once more bathed in darkness. The light she had conjured went out with the final flicker of her senses.

“Did you think my brother would suffer me to die at the hands of one such as you?” the wizard asked before her mind shut down completely. As she fell, he reached out quickly as far as the shackles would allow him to in order to grasp the orb. “This has not the power to kill me! Did he tell you otherwise to give you courage? Has the web of lies caught the spinner of the tale too? Now regrettably, in your hubris you have squandered the moments you had, and it will be too late to return me to your master when you awaken. The tree will be dead and my brother’s need for my services will have expired along with the Lalas. Such is the way of evil.”

Other books

Abel Sánchez by Miguel de Unamuno
Adam Haberberg by Yasmina Reza
A Knight’s Enchantment by Townsend, Lindsay
Hot Seat by Simon Wood
Insanity by Lauren Hammond
The French Mistress by Susan Holloway Scott
Melinda Hammond by The Bargain