Villains by Necessity (15 page)

As cool night fell, they started on again. Though the shadows of the canyon should have made the pass dangerously unsafe in darkness, the odd half-light of the night sky, combined with the brilliant stars and moon, were enough to cast a pale silvery glow over everything, and even the deep shadows were a milky indigo rather than black. It made them uneasy, Kaylana and Valeriana noting how the increase in Light was becoming even more literal, and Sam and Arcie, members of professions to whom Shadows were friend and sanctuary, felt like rabbits caught aboveground with their burrows covered.

The pass soon wound out of the floodwater canyon and led upward along winding rock-strewn trails and twisted scrambles of scree. They went on foot, leading the mounts, climbing into the thinning air, searching among the forgotten passes for a crevice like a stab wound into the heart of the earth, that legends said would echo with the sounds of screams and ravings enough to freeze the very blood. For here, Valeriana's research had indicated, was where the lost cavern of the Mad Godling could be found.

They climbed higher and higher, the footing getting ever more treacherous. Robin soon grew weary and frightened by the rough footing, and seemed to be terrified by the few glimpses they had of the ground far below.

At last he stopped, and refused to budge.

"I'm sorry, brave adventurers, but I simply can't go any further," he whickered apologetically. "My hooves weren't made for this sort of thing... I'll just head down, and see you at the bottom... ?"

"Och, I would guess as much," scoffed Arcie. Kaylana nodded, and said, "Yes, centaur, I understand. Then, will you lead our mounts down as well? They seem to trust you."

"Probably something in the smell," Sam muttered to Arcie.

They tied the horses together in a line, except for the newcomer knight's great black warhorse, which stood placidly by its master as the knight adjusted the animal's bitless bridle. As Robin led the other horses back down the pass, the warhorse trotted down after them, finding its way carefully along the rocks; Then the two-legged members of the expedition started off again.

For several hours, they climbed higher into the hills.

Sam was beginning to have doubts about these legends, and the others too seemed to be getting footsore and tired from the long steep climb. But Valeriana kept checking landmarks and viewpoints, muttering under her breath, and at last suddenly turned down a small pass that the others would never have seen, so cunningly was it concealed by a double-bend of two large stones.

As soon as they began down this path they knew that it was the right one. Not by any demi-godly screams-the air was still and quiet but for the wind-yet the ground under their feet was crunchy with pumice and obsidian, and the rocks were warm, as though heated from within.

A feeling of oldness, and strangeness hung in the air; perhaps others, seeking the legendary advice of the Mad Godling, had come this way, but they had changed nothing.

At last they rounded the corner and came to the end of the pass: a blank wall of rock marred by a deep cleft, wide enough at its base for a man to walk through with his arms extended. Smoke, faint puffs of sulfurous fumes, drifted slowly out of the top of the cleft. The air was very warm now, and tense. The little band of renegades exchanged glances.

"Is this what we seek, Valeriana?" Kaylana asked, gripping her staff tight. The dark sorceress nodded.

"It must be, you tree-planter. You, thief, assassin, go in and examine the place."

"I'll not go alone," retorted Arcie.

Sam put in, with a lazy, dangerous smile, "No, rather, I think we'd best all go in together. This is, after all, supposed to be a group effort."

Blackmail, the knight, seemed to agree, and so, squaring their shoulders, they walked into the dark cleft in the stone.

Though dark and dim compared to the bright moonlight outside, the rough and twisting tunnel within was faintly lit by a reddish glow. The hot air was thick with the sulfur smell, and a distant roaring could be heard.

They crept along the passage, each not wishing to be the first to encounter what they had come to seek.

When the tunnel at last opened abruptly into a large, round, high-ceilinged room, they were stunned. The cavern was lit with a hellish light. The roaring sound had its source here, in a pit at the center of the room, a flickering, boiling pool of fire that sent clouds of sulfurous fumes belching upward to circle around ...

But wait, there was something above that, from the ceiling, tied fast around a stalactite: a rope, a stream of burning, shifting fire, bright golden-orange and crackling with brilliant fury without ever changing shape from its long length that dropped down to form a noose around the neck of...

It was hard to see, in the strange firelight of pit and rope, but it was a human figure, taller than normal, perhaps, dressed only in charred and tattered rags, swinging ever so slightly in the drifting air currents. His face was turned toward them, a face wracked and hideous by long years of pure anguish and madness, streaked by decades of soot, the hair lank and ugly around the face, the eyes...

The eyes were closed. Feverish twitches animated the eyelids as even in dreams the unfathomable knowledge of the gods raced across his bleeding brain. Bhazo» the Mad Godling, was asleep.

"Looks as we came at a poor time," whispered Arcie, as he began backing up rapidly. His incautious foot loosened a rock, making a loud clatter. They all froze as the echoes bounced around the cavern.

The figure, hanging suspended over the pit of flame, stirred, and yawned slowly, then stretched. Lanky battered limbs extended, and the figure revolved grotesquely, his head lolling in the fiery noose. His lips smacked thoughtfully, the eyes squeezing tight though they had not yet opened. The figure sighed and took a deep breath, as the five watched in fear from the half cover of the entrance. Then one eye opened and saw them.

They were too far away to see clearly, but all instinctively looked away from that mad glitter. A slow smile spread across Bhazo's face, wild and twisted, showing broken teeth. Then he screamed.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAHAAAAHAAAAAAHAAAAAAHAAAAAYAAA!!!"

The sound ripped through the cavern like a storm, refracting and magnifying as the figure danced on its gibbet, spinning. They stumbled back, hands to their ears.

Arcie immediately turned and ran, heading for the safety of outside, but Kaylana jerked out with her staff, the crook catching through his belt and jerking him to an abrupt halt. The noise went on and on and on ...

"EEEEEEEEEYAH! YAH YAH YAH! THE AVERAGE RAINFALL IN THE SHADREZARIAN PLAINS IS DETERMINED ENTIRELY BY THE NUMBER OF KUNDA FRUITS THAT FALL UNATTENDED IN THE CALIPH'S PALACE GARDENS! YEEEEEEEEEEE YAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! YAH YAH YAH YAH YAH..."

The voice had slowly trailed off, and now stopped, the echoes dying away. When they looked up, Bhazo had swung around so that he now had his back to them and was dangling, muttering something about turnips. Arcie untangled himself from the Druid's staff and, now that the noise had stopped, crept up to where the knight, Druid, assassin, and sorceress were huddled at the edge of the cavern.

Bhazo's slow rotation continued, and he soon faced them again. He seemed to react in surprise, eyebrows raising slightly and unevenly.

"You're still here," he commented, then fell to muttering to himself, swinging back and forth gently.

Valeriana managed the courage to step forward, raising her hands to begin weaving a spell. There was a smell of melting butter as her magic began to work. "Oh fearsome spirit of the semi-divine, I seek your counsel, and do with the powers of mine hereby abjure and demand ..."

"Demands demands demands! Ha! Valerians Ebonstar, Widow of Talar, you are far more mad than I if you think your powers will work on me." Bhazo laughed, an eerie, tortured cackle that ran down their spines. "Fish and small frogs, all left to blow away in the wind. Flowing water, that's the way. Always has been, ever so it may."

Valeriana fumed and her fist clenched tightly around the piece of parchment and inkwood twig she had brought out in the hope of having to take notes. Sam, however, was frowning for a different cause. The figure seemed confined to its rope above the fire-pit, and his danger sense warned him of nothing. So he stepped forward, out of the shadows.

Bhazo, meanwhile, had noticed Blackmail. His expression, fluid as sun on the leaves, changed again, to a kind of admiring amusement. He stared at the black knight, who returned his mad gaze silently. Arcie had already crept off into the shadows of the walls to explore the room.

"Oh, that's clever. That's very clever," Bhazo was saying softly, as he stared at the dark knight. "That is so clever it is funny, so foolish it is brilliant. I heartily ap He giggled. "And people say I'm crazy..."

"Bhazo," Sam spoke, "people do say you are mad and that this cavern rings day and night to the sounds of your wild gibberings and shrieks ... why then are you now so calm?" He used the stilted, ancient form of the language, which seemed more appropriate to address a godling.

"Enough idle prattle on all your parts," snapped Valeriana. "We want to know the locations of the Segments of the Spectrum Key."

Wild, chilling laughter rose up again, and Bhazo revolved in his noose once more. Arcie, who had already made it halfway round the cavern, searching for hidden treasures, beat a hasty retreat back to the rear of his fellow villains.

"The Segments! Oh, such a wild lark, and when May leaves are cold in the morning, rain is sure to follow and Artelis is still angry about that incident with Ellhan's longbow.

Right, I'll sing you a song, it's not very long, but it's jolly!" He stopped suddenly, and peered out from under his lank hair at them, the dragonfire noose making his eyes glitter.

"Not so fast... what's in it for me?"

"What do you want?" hissed Valeriana. The others had stepped back; Valeriana seemed willing to take the initiative here, no sense in the rest of them getting involved and, perhaps, killed. Sam mentally ran through his list of weapons; none, he was sure, would be suitable against a god, even a minor one.

"Freedom! You, Nathauan, own a Darkportal, though the assassin lurking there carries it. It is the last seen in many years by any sight of man or gods. The magic-sink of a Darkportal, even one so small, may be enough to break this blasted fire-rope." Bhazo's eyes glittered, cold and calculating and mad. "I shall give you your answer in the only form the gods have ever let themselves think it, if you will sacrifice that Darkportal and free me."

"It's not hers to sacrifice anymore," put in Sam, feeling the cold weight of the amulet in his concealed pouch.

Valeriana turned on him, was about to speak when the rasping voice of the godling poured over them.

"No, but only she could wield it correctly to break the noose. Noose noose, chocolate moose... that is my price, cheaper than linen in TPATAK, and I'm staying by it." He folded his arms on his emaciated chest and rocked back and forth stubbornly.

The villains exchanged glances, and Valeriana, after a long moment, nodded. Sam, after a glare from Kaylana, withdrew the pouch with the amulet and held it in his hand. But Valeriana held up a hand.

II

"Wait. The answer first."

Her question struck just as Bhazo was slowly swinging down into another of his fits of madness. With a grin he looked up.

"Fair enough! Ahem, ahem ..." there was a brief pause, and Valeriana scrambled to get her notes. Then Bhazo began, chanting in a singsong voice that rambled from a high squeak to a low growl and back again. It seemed to Sam that he'd heard the words before, long ago, but had forgotten them until now...

In the town where first they met, The center of the smuggler's net, Seek and climb the flowing stair, Spin and see what's hidden there.

Magic's heart of southern skein, In russet vault of constant green, Deep within the eldest wood, Touch tip to earth where Heroes stood.

Golden griffin's homeward path, He who questioned, risked our wrath, Where he came to doubt, his shrine Measures slow, eternal time.

Diamond spire spears the sky, Focus of the wizard's eye.

Lead, Light, and Sand, the Test define, When washed in ancient magic's brine.

Walk now the line twixt Mula's sign, And the path her tears define.

Here Fate will take you like a wave, The hardest Test of all to brave.

T'krung-Tabak, in eagle's claws, Where warm blood outlines stony flaws,

If dare to face the inner eye, Go to thy knees 'neath moonlit sky.

Coils of the Labyrinth loop below, They are not here, but do not go, The Key is that which fits the Lock But also on the door will knock.

"I threw in the last verse gratis," Bhazo explained proudly. "That one refers to the Labyrinth itself, and there's another line about about about about about. What with all the elements needed, but that's pretty obvious..."

"I'd figured that out before I left the caverns," retorted Valeriana. "I just needed the Segment locations ... but if there is one Segment on each of the Six Lands, then which of your riddles refers to which?

"They're all in order, perfectly clear as the Sacred Mirror of Pikasaho that hangs five miles below the earth below the two hundred-fifth duth-duth bush east of Mount Skoo," retorted Bhazo impatiently. "You'll be racing around, against the clock, starting yesterday! The Darkportal!"

The godling writhed, holding out his hands beseechingly.

"Set me free, and I'll even try and kill myself right this time! You've no idea how uckle uckle uckle ga fooney..."

Bhazo lapsed into some heathen language in his mad ramblings, while still pleading, until at last he slipped back into Sixlandish: "The Darkportal! All you have to do is..."

"Actually, I rather think not," replied Valeriana, and before any of them could do anything she had turned and darted back down the way they had came. Bhazo froze for a moment, and then, rage suddenly exploding in his face, screamed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGG!"

The scream shook the walls and made the stone tremble.