torg 03- The Nightmare Dream (8 page)

Uthorion shuddered, sending ripples of anxiety through Ardinay's body. The very name of Tolwyn of House Tancred stirred such alien emotions in the High Lord. Equal measures of hatred and fear warred within Ardinay's breast, breaking likes waves upon the shore of Uthorion's dark soul.

"You are letting the prophecy destroy you, Angar," Jean Malraux said, sipping calmly from his goblet of wine.

The Antipope of Avignon, High Lord of the theocracy

of Magna Verita, was an enigmatic figure. He professed to be the Vicar of Christ on his world, yet he drew his most awesome powers from a Darkness Device. He urged his faithful to follow the laws of the Church and not suffer a witch to live, yet here he was, communing with a necromancer in a world where magic was the way of life. He was a contradiction. If his followers ever suspected the liberties he took with the faith, they would burn him at the stake — as was the practice under their medieval world view.

"Why are you still here, Malraux?" Uthorion asked impatiently. "Don't you have a realm to conquer?"

"As do you, Uthorion," the Antipope replied pleasantly. "I am here, at your invitation I remind you, in order to complete my grand deception. To the people of Magna Verita, I have transcended to Heaven to receive the blessings of Our Holy Father. To the cattle of Earth, I shall soon appear as' the saviour they so desperately need in their planet's time of trouble."

"Yes, yes, but when do you descend your maelstrom bridge?" Uthorion pressed.

"All in good time, my friend," Malraux smiled, sipping more wine. "Like a fine wine, you must let these things breath. The effect is much more grand when you have properly built the anticipation."

Uthorion walked to the edge of the tower ramparts and looked down upon the Valley of the Sword and the great Inland Sea. The sun was setting, descending into the hole that led through Aysle's surface so that it could bring day to the other side of the world disk. Already he could see the rim stars rising, and he felt the presence of his own star, the invisible entity star, as dusk covered the land. This was the time of day Uthorion liked best, and he said a silent prayer to his dark god, Corba'al.

"When do you descend, Uthorion?" Malraux asked. Was there a slight hint of amusement in the Antipope's tone? Uthorion could not be sure, but he did not doubt it. All High Lords could be arrogant bastards when they chose to be.

"I shall not descend until 1 have word that Tolwyn is dead," the High Lord declared, brushing Ardinay's golden locks out of her eyes so that he could see.

"Why not just enter the realm and finish it," Malraux prodded. "Surely you don't believe that this paladin can stand before your power?"

"I do not know what I believe anymore," Uthorion sighed. "It all seemed so easy when I found Drakacanus. The Gaunt Man even helped me establish my own cosm. I was destined for greatness and power, I was sure of that back then. Then that woman, that bitch from Duke Bordal's litter, had the audacity to place a curse upon me with her dying breath." He stopped, unsure of how much of his innermost fears he should allow Malraux to be privy to. They were allies now, certainly, but one never knew when the tenuous treaties that High Lords formed would be broken.

Uthorion turned Ardinay's body away from the wall and signalled for the ravagon stationed atop a far battlement. Once a trusted lieutenant in the Gaunt Man's court, Uthorion knew that the winged demonkind served as the High Lord of Orrorsh's eyes throughout the cosmverse, but he also knew that they served important functions for those who knew how to best make use of their unique abilities.

The winged demonkind alighted beside Ardinay's form, kept young all these centuries through the power of Drakacanus. It tilted its head curiously, letting it hang precariously atop its long, thin neck.

"Go down bridge, into Aysle realm on Earth, and summon Delyndun to me," Uthorion ordered.

Without a word, the ravagon flew off in search of the elven wizard.

"I do not trust the demonkind," Malraux commented once the ravagon was out of earshot. "They are always ... watching."

"You do not have to trust them, Jean Malraux," Uthorion said as he returned to the battlement. Below, in the courtyard, the combined races of Aysle let up a cheer for the Lady of the Houses when they saw her beautiful form. Uthorion twisted Ardinay's lips into a smile and waved her slender hand in mock appreciation of the masses.

"You only have to learn how to use them," he declared as the Ayslish sent up a second cheer, and the sun dipped beneath the lip of its path through the Boiling

Sea.

17

Andrew Decker joined Kurst in the slow walk to outfitting. Neither wanted to be without supplies for the trip they had ahead of them. The congressman still remembered the flight from the weretiger called Scythak back at the Twentynine Palms hospital complex. Decker fought as hard as he could, with what few weapons he had, but the huge hunter from Orrorsh was too much for him. Eventually Decker ran out of options, and Scythak closed in for the kill. That was when Kurst appeared.

"How did you get back here?" Decker asked for the tenth time.

For the tenth time, Kurst answered him. "Through a gate — a portal between the marine base and the Gaunt Man's manor in Borneo."

"How is that possible?" Decker asked. Even to himself he sounded like a broken record.

"As I have explained before, Mara found a way to utilize the power we have within us," Kurst said.

"The possibility energy?"

"Yes. The energy that brands us as stormers."

"Storm knights," Decker corrected, using the phrase that Tolwyn had coined.

"Storm knights," Kurst agreed. "She focused the combined energy of our group and opened a gate to you. Tolwyn wanted to come, but I convinced her I was the best choice for the battle I knew waited on the other side of that portal."

Decker recalled how Kurst shifted into his werewolf form and attacked the larger weretiger. He was losing, falling beneath Scythak's greater strength, when suddenly Kurst shifted into a new form. He became a giant bear, a werebear, and with the surprise of his transformation coupled with the bear form's superior strength, Kurst killed Scythak.

"How did you gain a new form?" Decker asked as the question came to his mind.

"I am not sure," Kurst admitted, "but I believe it had something to do with you. While the Gaunt Man was ripping possibilities from me with his sorting machine, I felt your presence. I remember you pointing to a part of myself I did not know existed. Later, when I saw how Mara formed the gate, I figured out how to release that part of me which the Gaunt Man had long ago imprisoned. I remembered the form of the bear, and I shifted into it."

Decker nodded. Although his time under the rune staff induced coma was becoming a fading memory, he did remember when the Gaunt Man called him to re-pattern Kurst's possibilities. He left the bright glow at I he center of Kurst's being alone, for it was the destiny that fate had originally set for the shapeshifter.

Kurst pulled a chain and pendant from his pocket a nd regarded it carefully. It was the pendant that Scythak had worn. "Jewelry was so unlike Scythak," Kurst said. "This pendant stinks with Orrorsh sorcery."

"What do you think it is?" Decker asked.

"I don't know," Kurst admitted, "but I bet Thratchen has something to do with it."

"Thratchen? Isn't that the thing chasing Mara?"

Kurst nodded. "He helped us against the Gaunt Man, though. Not in overt ways, but subtly. It was he who forced Mara to figure out how to use the gate power."

"For his own purposes, no doubt," Decker finished.

The shapeshifter laid a strong hand on Decker's arm, making him pause before they entered the supply tent. "We have to talk about what we do next," Kurst said.

Decker looked surprised. "We're going to help defend the storm front," he stated. "We've got to keep the edeinos from crossing the boundary."

"There are others to do that," Kurst said. "There is an entire army here. Two more would make little difference either way."

"Then what do you suggest, Kurst?"

"We must catch up with Tolwyn and the others. Our destiny lies with them, and they will need our help for the final battle."

"What are you talking about?" Decker asked. "What battle? We don't even know where they are now. For all we know, they could be on their way back to Twentynine Palms even as we speak."

Kurst shook his head. "They are on their way to Aysle, the magical reality."

"How do you know that? How can you be sure?"

"Tolwyn wants to find Angar Uthorion, the necromancer that invaded her world five hundred years ago," Kurst explained. "She also wants to find out how her beloved Lady Ardinay still happens to be alive — and why Aysle has become a dark and evil place. If they defeated the Gaunt Man, which they must have done for the rune staves to have fallen from your body, then Tolwyn will convince them to go with her to Aysle."

Decker let the implications of Kurst's words run through his head. Then he asked, "How do we find this place called Aysle?"

"Leave that to me," the hunter replied, clapping Decker on the shoulder.

They hurriedly entered the supply tent and began outfitting for the journey ahead of them. Kurst suggested taking low-tech items. He found a good blade — polycarbide, the supply sergeant bragged — and two bayonets that would make serviceable spears if mounted properly. He took a rifle almost as an afterthought, perhaps unsure of its utility. In the end he accepted the weapon because it was made to carry the bayonet.

For himself, Decker took two pistols — a .45, and a smaller .38 as a back-up. He trusted in technology. Decker asked for canteens, but as they were preciously guarded items, they received only one each.

"There is water where we are going, Ace," Kurst said. "More water than either of us can drink."

Rations and walkie-talkies — the latest miniature headset types — made up the rest of their supplies. They thanked the sergeant and started out.

Outside the supply tent, Julie Boot was waiting for them, her face set and still. "Planning on leaving without me, Ace?"

Decker felt himself involuntarily straighten to attention; he wondered if Kurst noticed. "It's not a question of leaving without you. It's survival. You've got valuable skills —"

"And you're going to save me from wasting them?" she finished for him. "Who'll save you next time?"

Decker's mouth tightened as his jaw muscles bunched. He searched for a soft reply. "After we do what we can here, we're going to go find Tolwyn and the others. Kurst thinks they need us, and I owe them more than I can ever repay. Two of us is enough to risk, especially since your skills could save many more than two if you were here, with the hospital, with supplies ... You'll be safer here."

"Look around, Ace," she said, her voice getting louder. "Your definition of safe leaves a lot to be desired. You need a medic, and I'm going."

Images ran through Decker's head, images of his mental fight against the Gaunt Man. It was Julie's voice that helped him find his way back, that helped him make it through the doors the Gaunt Man threw into his path. He owed her his life. That much, in all of this surreality of invasion, was crystalline sharp.

"She has a point," Kurst observed, "and an ulterior motive."

She would not plead to be taken, but she did demand it. And, Decker admitted almost hopelessly, she was adamant enough to risk following them. Alone. She had saved his life. But it bit into him as deep as the runes had once bit that he was bringing the woman he loved to a world where he could guarantee nothing.

He nodded once, sharply, and they turned as one to the supply sergeant for another kit.

18

Major Charles Covent scanned the wall of rain and lightning with a pair of high-powered binoculars. He could see vague shapes gathering on the other side, but as of yet nothing had broken through. He didn't like waiting. He knew that the longer they waited, the more likely the chance of the lizards getting enough of their kind over here to flip the reality.

He had his forces ranged all along the front from one end of the Sequoia National Forest to the other. He had a division at the ready, but even so they were spread thin to cover the forty miles of forest. Lanes of fire had been established, but other units remained mobile in order to respond to wherever the lizards broke through in number. He had the entire line of trees on this side of the storm rigged to explode into flame on his order, which should create a wall of fire to hold them back. He thought about what Kurst and Tal Tu had told them, and it still seemed impossible. All the lizards had to do was get twenty-five thousand of their people across the storm front. Then, if the stelae had been set, this area would become a Dead Ring. If that happened, all of the soldiers would be slaughtered as their weapons systematically failed.