by Glen Cook
What? No! This could not be!
The Old Man pushed a shogi piece forward. The Deliverer made a comment about the move.
Lord Kuo Wen-chin shrugged and shook his head sadly.
The bitch Tervola looked almost directly at Old Meddler’s viewpoint, frowning, as though sensing something uncertain. Beyond her the specter of the salt trader’s son stirred and said something possibly cautionary.
So many dead men. That Matayangan… But the Old Man was the worst. Because of him this might yet get dicey indeed.
Varthlokkur stood surrounded by glowing symbols. Old Meddler spied dark worms representing each of his demons—including the one limpeted to the outside of the Wind Tower, permitting him this access. The second wave would arrive before long.
There was no sound. He could not hear what the wizard shouted. His henchmen crowded in to see what had him excited—which was not, as Old Meddler supposed, the proximity of the demon that he himself rode.
The wizard’s wand tapped four viciously brilliant points of light moving through the Winterstorm, two toward the shadow dragons swarming outside Fangdred, one toward the squadron in transit, while the last and most intense streaked toward Throyes.
The bitch Tervola, facing his direction, mouthed, “It’s Shih-ka’i! The sneaky bastard brought the last four shafts up from Matayanga. He must have started them moving weeks ago.”
Old Meddler did not know what that meant but he was sure that it boded no good for the Star Rider.
He began to pull back. To get out. Not because he was in danger here but because danger was afoot somewhere else and he ought to be there to handle it. He had a huge crew about to deal with this place.
He had entered a trap after all, but not a crafted one.
The barrier was back. He and the lead troop were inside. He had to get out.
How?
He would have to wait out the first squadron’s attack. That should open the way.
Points of blinding light came out of the south at a velocity almost unimaginable. The barrier troubled them not at all. Each found a demon carrying an iron statue. Blinding blasts of light, separated by a second, shredded the night. They boiled snow off the mountains below. They set both demons aflame. The iron statues, molten on one side, fell away. The explosions threw off blazing sub-munitions like the biggest fireworks ever created. Those took out several other demons. The sky over the Dragon’s Teeth filled with burning serpents but Old Meddler’s demon was not among them.
An identical firework burst in the distance, amidst the second wave.
The violence here cracked Fangdred’s barrier. Old Meddler’s demon dashed through and headed south.
There had been four points of light moving through the Winterstorm. The brightest was headed for Throyes.
He had stumbled into an ambush that even surprised his enemies. Varthlokkur and the bitch Tervola had had something else entirely in mind, he was sure.
What had they been waiting for? Knowing that he was coming?
The Old Man was with her. That would be root and core and foundation of all his difficulties, now and forevermore.
He might not make it through this time.
The dead might pull him down.
He was surprised at how much he wanted to go on living, even after ages of pain and disappointment.
His demon ripped past the second squad. Four were on fire. He sent the strongest call he could: Abandon everything and come with me!
Despair. His consciousness was out here. But his body was…
A blinding point moved across the night. He was moving faster. He was not a material entity. He and the point were converging. What would one of those things do to the Karkha Tower? What would it do to the people inside, of whom he was the one who truly mattered?
Slam! Like hitting a wall at full gallop he reentered his flesh. And was still trying to harness it when the world went white.
...
Lein She was first to burst into the transfer chamber in his home base. He had insisted he be the man once Lord Yuan made sure of the connection. The Karkha Tower was his responsibility. If need be he would go down first in the effort to reclaim it.
He stepped into heat that stunned him, though it was fading. It dried his eyes. He kept blinking, having trouble seeing. He spotted a shape scuttling with one arm across its eyes, making mewling sounds. None of his men, nor any of Tang Shan’s, had survived the earlier attack. He thrust his blade into the whimperer’s back.
Tang Shan arrived, then—as the world surged and shifted and icy darkness flooded the chamber. Lein She felt a presence so sudden and vast and abiding that he lost control of his bowels.
The demon was not interested in him. It had work to do. It was gone when the next man arrived to find Lein She and Tang Shan leaning on one another, gaping at surroundings notable for the absence of a little old whimperer.
The new arrival observed, “Damn! Everything is all runny melted like candle wax!”
...
Varthlokkur stepped out of the Winterstorm and collapsed, though he remained conscious. “We won. Sort of. And without having to spend much of our own capital.”
Mist said, “He got away. Again.”
“He’ll be no threat again in our lifetimes. Or in many lifetimes to come. And him surviving may not be an all bad thing.”
“You’ll have to work hard to sell me that.”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“All right. Meantime, I do know where to look if I want to keep after him. El Murid was good for that much.”
Varthlokkur fell asleep before he could ask where, thinking that that old devil always had one more trick. But today they had played a few of their own and had gotten several steps ahead.
†
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
