The Tower of Endless Worlds (25 page)

It would save him from falling into the hands of the winged demons.

The van sped down a street, dark three-story apartment buildings flashing past on either side. The motor roared as Conmager pushed it past ninety. Simon caught a glimpse of another dark shape circling over the street. 

“How fast can they fly?” said Simon. 

“Fast,” said Conmager. “But not faster than an automobile. If we can make it to the freeway we can outrun them. But not in the city. There are too many corners. And they may have a vehicle of their own…”

A winged demon swooped towards the windshield, black armor glinting in the headlights, an assault rifle cradled in its arms.

###

Goth turned his seat. “Lord. We have found them. They are fleeing in the red vehicle.”

Marugon smiled. “Kill Lithon Scepteris. But instruct your kin to only disable Sir Liam or whatever wielder of the white magic is with him. I should like to put them to the question.” He spread his hands. “But if they should happen to die with King Lithon…I would not be disappointed.”

Goth rumbled out a laugh and conveyed the orders. 

###

Conmager swung the wheel hard left. The winged demon leveled the assault rifle and fired. Flashes of light burst from the barrel, and a web of cracks spread through the windshield. Simon heard a series of dull thumps as the bullets shredded through the van’s side. Conmager jerked the wheel back to the right and crashed through a trio trash cans on the curb. The engine roared as Conmager pumped the gas and dragged the van back onto the road. Simon looked over his shoulder and saw the winged demon receding into the darkness.

“Is everyone okay?” said Katrina.

Simon wiped a gallon of sweat from his brow. “Yeah. Just super.”  

“We’re not going to be able to get out of the city, are we?” said Katrina.

Conmager shook his head. “No.” A look of terrible pain crossed his face, followed by grim resolution. “No. Then it has come to the last chance I foresaw. So be it. Take the wheel.”

“What?” said Katrina. “You idiot, we’re going over seventy. We’ll splatter all over the street.”

“This road remains straight for a while,” said Conmager, teeth grinding. “Take the wheel. Now!”

Katrina loosed a long stream of curses, but reached over and took the wheel. Conmager levered himself up and slid into the space between the seats. Katrina climbed over him and dropped into the driver’s seat. The van almost crashed into a streetlight, but Katrina managed to maintain control.

“What are you doing?” said Simon.

“Make for this address,” said Conmager, rattling off a street and number. 

“Why? That leads back towards the city!” said Katrina. “That’s…damn it, that’s only fifteen blocks from Wycliffe’s warehouses. Why the hell are we going back that way?”

“If you want to save your life, if you want to save the life of your betrothed, you will do as I bid,” said Conmager. He turned around and reached for his staff. 

Katrina hit the brakes, skidded, and managed to reverse direction. “And what will you be doing?”

Conmager pulled his staff into the front seat. “I must slow the winged demons long enough for us to get there. Turn here.”

Katrina hit the blinker and turned. A black van, its headlights off, shot past them. Simon saw the black van’s brake lights come on. 

“Drive!” said Conmager. He rolled down his window. “Drive with all speed. It is your only chance.”

###

Goth roared in fury. “That van! Lord, that red van. It is the one we seek.”

Marugon tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robes. “Then follow it, driver. Now!” The driver nodded and slammed the brakes. Their vehicle swung around and shot after the red van.

Marugon closed his eyes and focused his will. A mighty, dark force gathered within his mind. It was the cold darkness between the worlds, the force that silenced a heart’s final shuddering beat, the power that made a home crumble into a broken ruin, the force that would one day quench the stars themselves. 

Marugon began to cast a spell. 

###

The van’s engine started to howl. Katrina cursed and glared at the dashboard. “The engine’s overheating!”

“Not much farther,” said Conmager. He glared out the rear window. “No. Damnation, no. That black van….Marugon…”

Something dark and huge swooped overhead, flickers of bright yellow light flashing in the darkness. Katrina screamed as bullet holes appeared in the hood. The left mirror vanished in a spray of glass shards, and the back window shattered into glittering specks. 

Conmager thrust his staff out the window, its head blazing with searing white flame. Conmager shouted, the white fire pulsing in time to his words. A deep-throated howl of pain rose from the air. 

“Faster!” said Conmager, the wind whipping through his hair and clothes. Simon looked out the windows, saw dilapidated warehouses blurring past. “We are almost there!”

Something heavy landed on the van’s roof. 

Simon looked up just as gunfire ripped through the ceiling, shredding the seat cushions and blasting holes in the floor. He grabbed Lithon and pulled him toward the wall, trying to shield the boy from the fire. Ally scurried back into the corner, her eyes huge. 

Conmager twisted around, brandishing his staff as he levered himself further out the window. An infuriated roar filled the air.

A winged demon landed on the hood.

Red flames danced in the creature’s eyes, and its sooty black armor rattled as it moved. Through his terror Simon recognized the creature as one of the hooded and bearded thugs he had seen at the warehouse’s front gate every day. The false beard had done a remarkable job of hiding the winged demon’s yellowed fangs.

The creature drove an armored fist through the windshield, glass shards raining over Katrina and Conmager’s lap. Katrina screamed and let go of the wheel to cover her face. The van bobbed across the lanes and brushed the curb. The winged demon grabbed Katrina by her shirt and pulled her towards him. Simon roared and clawed forward, trying to reach her.

Katrina kicked the brake. The van lurched, catapulting Conmager out the window. Simon caught a glimpse of his staff clattering against the street. 

The van jumped the curb, careened over the sidewalk, and smashed into the wall of a warehouse.

###

“It’s not my fault,” said the driver, almost weeping in his terror. Smoke rose from the black van’s open hood. “It’s…it’s not my fault, the engine couldn’t handle going so fast for so long…oh, God, oh God, what are you doing!”

Goth growled and lifted a hand. Iron claws, blackened with ancient blood, slid from his fingertips. 

“Leave him,” said Marugon. “He is not worth our time.”  The dark force raged through his mind. “We have, as the Earth saying goes, bigger fish to fry.”

Goth stiffened and touched his headset. “Lord. Their van has crashed. They are not more than a quarter mile ahead.”

Marugon smiled. “Good. Very good. Let us show Sir Liam the fury of a master of the black magic, shall we?” He set off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. 

Goth let loose a vicious, rumbling chuckle. 

Behind them the driver curled into a ball and began to cry.

Chapter 21 - A Broken Staff

Anno Domini 2003

Bit by bit, Simon’s eyes swam back into focus.

Someone tugged at his hand. “What?”

“You have to get up!” said Ally. 

Something hot and wet dripped into Simon’s eyes. He wiped it aside and gazed at blood on his fingers. “The van…”

The front section of the van had been smashed against the warehouse wall. Both front seats were crushed. The back section of the van had survived mostly intact, which explained how Simon had survived the crash. 

“The crash,” said Simon. His eyes widened. “Katrina? Where’s Lithon and Conmager?”

“Conmager fell out the window,” said Ally. “I took Lithon out of the van after we crashed.”

A woman’s scream cut the night air. 

Simon’s heart skipped several beats. “Katrina! My God, Katrina!” He pushed his way out the wrecked van, staggering with pain and dizziness.

A winged demon stood twenty feet from the van, holding Katrina by the hair. She had numerous cuts on her face and arms. She kicked and punched, but her blows bounced off the creature’s armor. 

“Vigorous,” said the winged demon, its voice a deep bass rumble. “I have watched you long, pretty one. I shall father a son on you. You shall give birth to one of the kin.”

Katrina snarled and swung her fist. The winged demon caught the blow and broke her arm in one smooth motion. Katrina screamed and the winged demon pushed her against the wall, wrapping its massive wings around her.

Simon roared, fury overriding his fear. He seized a brick from the damaged warehouse wall, sprinted toward the winged demon, and flung the brick with all his strength. It struck the winged demon on the temple. The monster snarled and dropped Katrina, who crumpled to the sidewalk in a limp heap.

The winged demon spun to face Simon, and his rage melted away in the creature’s burning gaze. The winged demon stalked forward, drawing a curved black sword from its belt. Its edge glittered, and Simon stared at it, transfixed.

His mind screamed for him to run, to pick up Katrina, to do something, but he could not look away as the scimitar rose for a killing blow…

A man’s voice yelled in challenge and white light flared. The winged demon roared in pain as Conmager charged it, white fire burning up the length of his staff. The blazing end of the staff slammed into the winged demon’s face. The creature howled in agony and took to the air, its wings beating. 

“The other one,” said Simon. “There were two. Where’s the other…”

Conmager gasped and almost fell. Simon caught his arm. “I can’t…Master, I can’t…so tired…so very tired…”

Conmager’s jacket and shirt had been torn to shreds. A deep gash marked his jaw, a sheet of blood dripping down his neck. His arm trembled like gelatin in Simon’s grip.

Conmager straightened and leaned on his staff. “The other one is dead.” He pointed at a heap of black ashes and obsidian bones in the center of the street. 

“Katrina’s hurt. Bad,” said Simon, starting toward her. Ally hurried to his side, a wailing Lithon in her arms.

Conmager clutched his side. “As am…As am I…” His eyes widened. “Pick her up. Now! Run, run!”

Simon followed Conmager’s gaze, and saw a whirling column of shadows crawling up the street. The pavement beneath it crumbled into white powder. Just looking at the writhing shadows filled Simon with an icy chill.

“Run!” said Conmager. 

Simon hurried to Katrina’s side and helped her up. She looked half-delirious with pain. He hooked his arm around her waist and staggered after Conmager and Ally. The chill radiating from the writhing column of shadows grew sharper.

He turned just as the whirlwind of shadows struck the wrecked van. The red paint peeled off in a shower of flakes. The metal twisted, rusted, and collapsed in a spray of orange powder. The plastic shriveled into ash. The bricks of the warehouse wall dissolved into dust. 

He caught up with Conmager. “What was that?” Katrina moaned, her forehead brushing against his shoulder. 

“A spell of entropy,” said Conmager. He left a trail of blood droplets on the pavement. “We are almost there.”  He pointed at a warehouse of red brick. “If we can just make it inside.” He looked at Ally. “You must carry the King.”

Ally shrugged. “I’ve carried him before.”

Simon risked another glance over his shoulder. The van and the warehouse wall had been reduced to black ash. Behind the wreckage he saw a huge man in a leather jacket and a smaller one in black robes. 

For a moment he glimpsed bottomless black eyes beneath the robed man’s hood.

Dread such as Simon had never known tore at him. Neither the winged demons nor the shadow-things in the Tower had ever filled him with such terror. 

He did not want to know what manner of nightmare wore that robe.

“Conmager,” he croaked. “Conmager!”

Conmager half-turned. “What?” His face twisted in a mixture of agony and terror. “It is Marugon. Run! Run! It is our last chance.”

Simon slung Katrina over his shoulder, his muscles screaming with effort, and followed Conmager and Ally in a staggering run for the red brick warehouse. 

###

“They survived the spell,” said Goth.

“They did not survive the spell,” said Marugon, his voice mild. He watched the distant figures vanish into the warehouse. “Rather, they had the great good fortune to miss it by a few seconds. What word from your kin?”

Goth grunted. “One of my kin was slain.”  He did not seem distressed by the news. “One was wounded. Sir Liam does not seem to be with them.”

Marugon frowned. “He is not? Perhaps he perished when their vehicle crashed. Then who slew the winged one? I thought I saw the white fire in the distance. It must have been their wielder of white magic.”

“They have gone into that structure,” said Goth. “Lithon Scepteris is with them.”

“And others that I did not expect,” said Marugon. “Allies Sir Liam must have gathered. No matter.” He strode forward, gathering dark power. “We shall dispose of them with all haste.” 

Goth stopped. “Lord. There is only one entrance into the warehouse.”

Marugon frowned. “Oh?” He watched as five winged demons landed before the warehouse’s door. 

“The fools have run into a dead end,” said Goth. “We have them.”

“Wait.” Marugon lowered his head, deep in thought. “They were fleeing the city. Yet when your kin spotted them, they changed direction. Back towards Wycliffe’s compound, if I am not mistaken. Why would they head towards the nest of their enemies, hmm?”

Goth growled, red fire glinting behind his sunglasses. “A trap.”

“Or where they wish to make a last stand,” said Marugon. 

He hesitated for a moment.

Alastarius had known more than he had Prophesied. There had been something in his eyes as he had died…satisfaction? Smugness? Even hope? Marugon considered striding into the warehouse and slaying the last scion of the house of Scepteris and his protectors with a single spell. His doubt grew as he looked at the warehouse’s only door. They had run into a dead end. They had to know it. They had come here deliberately. There had to be some trickery.

Goth shifted. “Lord?” 

“Something is amiss,” said Marugon. “Send in your kin. Kill the Scepteris brat and his followers.”

Goth relayed the orders. The winged demons ripped open the warehouse door and strode inside, Kalashnikovs in hand.

###

The gloomy warehouse looked long-abandoned. A thin layer of dust covered the floor, marred by occasional footprints. Stacks of enormous empty crates lined the walls, and flickering security lights cast dancing shadows everywhere. Simon looked around, Katrina’s weight filling his shoulders with aching pain. He could see no other door.

“Conmager,” he rasped. 

Conmager ignored him and limped towards a stack of crates. Ally padded at his side, a wriggling Lithon in her arms. 

“Conmager!” said Simon, huffing as he tried to catch the wounded man. Conmager turned, eyes glinting in his bloodstained face. “There’s no way out. We’ve run into a dead end.”

Conmager nodded. “That’s what you are supposed to think. That is what they are supposed to think.”

“What?” said Simon.

“Hurry,” said Conmager, his voice quavering. Simon wondered if Conmager had taken internal injuries. “Time grows short.”

Conmager lifted his staff and struck a large enough to hold a small house. The crate’s side swung inward. Simon saw a trapdoor on the floor within the crate. Conmager rapped his staff against the trapdoor. It swung open, revealing a steep staircase descending into the darkness.

“The tunnel opens into an abandoned sector of the sewer system,” said Conmager. “I have painted arrows showing the route to a small park about a mile and a half from here. There are several flashlights and spare batteries at the bottom of the stairs.”

Simon scowled. “Is this your great plan? A secret tunnel? It’ll take the winged demons five minutes to find this!” He gestured at the dusty floor. “All they have to do is follow our footprints.”

“Go now,” said Conmager. He pushed Simon into the crate. Ally stepped inside, staring at Conmager with sad eyes. 

Simon gaped. “You’re…you’re staying? But they’ll kill you!”

“Perhaps,” said Conmager. “Most likely. In any case, I will buy you time to escape with the King and your betrothed.” He smiled. “And Ally, as well. She is a special child, though I cannot see to what purpose. Take care of her, Simon Wester.”

“You idiot!” said Simon. “You’ll die in vain. They’ll shoot you to pieces and come right after us.”

“They will have no reason,” said Conmager, his voice quiet, “to come after you.”

Simon blinked. “But…” Then the memory returned. “A desperate last chance that might save you and your betrothed and the children. That’s what you said. You…you’re going to do some damn heroic last stand, something that will make them think we’re all dead…”

“Go, Simon Wester,” said Conmager. “You have always been a true friend to me, despite your fears. Love your betrothed and cherish her. And take care of the children.”  His eyes grew glassy. “Especially Ally. That is all I ask of you. Guard the children…and remember me, for no one else will.”

“No!” said Simon. His arms ached with the effort of holding Katrina. “No! I’m not going to leave you here to die…”

Conmager smiled. “It’s not as if I’m giving you a choice.”

He moved like lightning despite his wounds. He grabbed the hidden door and slammed it shut, filling the crate with darkness. Simon yelled and pounded on it, but could not break through. 

Ally tugged at this belt. “We have to go!”

Simon heard metal shrieking and the roars of the winged demons. He wiped tears from his face, nodded, and groped towards the hidden stairwell.

###

Conmager turned away from the secret door and walked the center of the warehouse. He wanted to be as far from the door as possible when the winged demons found him. Pain lashed at his every step, and he felt exhausted beyond measure.

He would rest soon enough.

The door crashed in pieces, and five winged demons hurried through, machine guns in hand. Conmager struck the butt of his staff against the dusty floor. It burst into brilliant white fire, pushing back the shadows. The winged demons snarled and took to the air. Before Conmager could react, they had landed in a circle around him, weapons ready.

“Where is the boy?” snarled one.

Conmager smirked and lifted his staff. “Find him yourself, if you can.”

“Kill him!” bellowed another.

“No,” said the one Conmager had burned. “Perhaps we shall take him to the Lord alive, yes?”

A machine gun barked, and agony exploded through Conmager’s left knee. He screamed and leaned upon his staff to keep from toppling to the floor. He closed his eyes, shuddered, and gathered his power for the last effort. 

The staff vibrated in his hands, the white fire blazing brighter. 

“Take him!” said the burned demon. “Once the Lord has finished with him, we shall feast on his flesh…”

Conmager yelled, raised the staff high, and struck the head against the floor with all the strength he could muster. 

The staff shattered into a thousand pieces with a blinding flash.

White fire exploded in all directions. The winged demons screamed, and Conmager screamed with them before the darkness claimed him. 

###

The explosion ripped through the windows, blasted out the door, and tore gaping holes in the walls. The roof disintegrated in a spray of shredded steel. A pillar of flame shot a hundred feet into the air, and with a great groan, the warehouse’s walls collapsed, the ground trembling. 

The flames turned night into a hellish day. 

Marugon and Goth stood alone in the street. 

Marugon stared at the burning debris with a sour expression. It galled him to think how close he had come to his own destruction. “So. It was a trap. I did not think their wielder of white magic had such a last display in him.” 

Goth growled. 

Marugon laughed. “No. They could not have hoped to survive such a spell. Rather…it was a last stand. Perhaps they hoped to destroy me as well as themselves.”

“They feared to be taken alive,” said Goth.

Marugon’s laughter redoubled. “Can you blame them, considering what your kin would have done to them? Especially the woman.” Goth remained silent. “Speaking of your kin, five of them perished in the blast. One died on the street. Does that not trouble you?”

“No,” said Goth. 

“Why not?” said Marugon.

“Six fewer rivals I shall have to kill one day,” said Goth.

Marugon laughed. “Indeed. There is a reason you have been king of the winged demons for so many years, Goth-Mar-Dan.” 

Goth said nothing. 

Marugon gazed into the flaming ruin. “The last son of Scepteris, dead at last after so many years. His father banished me, in my youth, and led the war against the Black Council.” His lips spread in a grin. “And now the debt has been settled.” He titled his head and heard the distant wail of sirens. 

“The city guards. Senator Wycliffe will be displeased,” said Goth. He sounded indifferent.