Magenta Salvation

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Magenta Salvation Page 13

by Piers Anthony


  “Because of his love. The Protector wanted his creation to follow him not because they were forced to, but because they wanted to. He probably could have created the world and this life in a way that evil would never have existed. But then we would be slaves, forced to do good for lack of anything else. The Protector wanted his creation to think for themselves, decide for themselves, and so he and the Guardians agreed to give the races the independence they so desired, and the Guardians agreed to part from Pakk, and take their abode in the sky and in the clouds above us, to wait until they were needed once again. And so, the Protector crafted with his own hands two horns, one of silver and one of gold, and placed them in the north, beyond the mountains, to be used if the world ever became overrun with evil to the point that good was almost extinguished. In this case, the Gold Horn was to be blown to summon the Guardians, the Sky Titans, in order to destroy the world, wiping it clean of all evil and allowing the Protector start anew.”

  “What is the Silver Horn for?” Benny asked.

  “In case, for any reason, one wished to call off the Sky Titans, and thus save the world from destruction. The Protector knew of the troubles which would plague Pakk in the future, and that people would attempt to summon the Sky Titans ‘pre-maturely,’ either by accident or ill intention. Therefore, he placed one of his most powerful creatures, a cyclops, in charge of guarding the horns. This way, only those with the most sincere of intentions towards blowing the Golden Horn, and summoning the Sky Titans, could defeat the cyclops.”

  “Well, if this cyclops thing is guarding the horns and only those with good intentions can defeat him, what are we even going to all this damn trouble for? I could be back at home sleeping!” Burgundy crossed his arms and pouted.

  “I said sincere intentions, not good intentions,” Kolpak stated. There had been tension between the two dwarves ever since they’d met, but now it had become an obvious thorn in each other’s side.

  “Sincere…good…same damn difference!”

  Helena cut off Burgundy, “Not quite, lover boy. Someone sincerely wanting to blow the horns doesn’t have to have good intentions. People like Ammarod and Benny’s mother sincerely want to blow the horns for their own evil purposes. Their desire to summon the Titans is just as strong as our desire to do the opposite.”

  “And we still don’t know the full extent of their power…” Benny said.

  The companions agreed in unison. The shaman made more noise, even louder and more emphatic than before. Kolpak translated. “He says the mother is more powerful, but the son is the one we should fear…” Kolpak stared at Benny, and the companions followed suit.

  “What? What are you looking at me for?” he asked.

  Kolpak responded. “He also said that you, and only you, were the one who could defeat him…with your skill alone.”

  Benny’s stomach lurched. He’d grown worlds since his childhood as the clumsy, backwards boy he’d been when he first met Dale and Cycleze, but when he thought back to all of his battles, he’d always had some form of outside help. Virtue had bit him with a berserker bite in his battle against the evil Dale, Marty had saved him from assassination, and he’d had the combined aid of Helena and Dale in full berserk mode in his fight against Purp. He did slay Toldnas the Giant with his magic staff during his feast with the Emperor of Upper Sultry, but he’d only been able to do so because the giant was distracted by his feuding with Dale, Quill, and the other tournament winners. He was ten times the fighter and adventurer he’d been when first traveling across Dan with Dale those years ago, but he’d never truly been alone. As angry as he was towards his brother for what he’d done to Virtue, and as resentful as he was towards his mother for her abandonment and evil ways, he was still unsure of himself in comparison to them. He was still afraid.

  “That’s nonsense,” Dale said.

  Kolpak shook his head. “I’m sorry, lad. Only Benny can stop his brother. The shaman is never wrong.”

  “Never?” It was more of a plea from Benny than a question.

  “Never,” the dwarf stated.

  With that, the shaman made a final declaration, and the gathering of frost dwarves slowly began to depart. Benny, Dale, and the rest of the travelers followed Kolpak to their designated quarters to prepare for the next leg of the journey.

  

  It was spring time in Dan and the crabapples were bursting with white and pink blossoms. The orchard was a special place for Laurel and her betrothed, the gentle Ammarod, and on many a summer afternoon they made love beneath the trees, and this sunset was no exception. His blue skin against hers, the warmth of the sun on their bodies, and the honeysuckle scent of the apple blossoms engulfing her senses; Laurel was lost in him. Then it happened. A dark cloud cut off the peaceful rays of the sun, the air became cold and dry, and the mist came upon the lovers, choking them. Then the vampires came; wicked evil creatures, like bats out of hell, erupting from the ground itself. One bit hard into Laurel’s neck, knocking her back. She watched in horror, frozen in agony from the bite, as they descended on her Ammarod. Blood spewed into the air, flesh and limbs were torn from his body, and his screams echoed throughout the countryside. That’s when she came. A demoness, clothed in moss and smelling like the musk of decaying earth, her skin pale, dead, and her eyes black like onyx. Her teeth were razors, and her fingernails knives. She gave out a cry as she came into the scene, diving into the cluster of feeding vampires. Laurel was terrified for her lover, but as his blood sprayed into the air and flowed upon the ground she realized it was too late, and her own physical condition too weak anyway. So, using what ability she had, she fled through the orchard and into the surrounding forest. She ran until her lungs were bursting. Collapsing onto the ground, she passed out. The last thing she heard was Ammarod’s scream.

  

  Virtue had indeed been Laurel. While she had never shared the true story of her conversion with Benny, it was a moment that haunted her always. She had been taken in by a peaceful group of vampires, who chased off attackers, and they took her to their home in the Gant countryside. She had begged them to look for Ammarod, but, upon returning, claimed only a puddle of blood remained of her beloved. Every day, she had remembered Ammarod, the gentle, blue-skinned farm boy, whom many had shunned but she embraced for his kindness and intelligence. The reason she had fallen in love with Benny had been because he’d reminded her so much of Ammarod; he had Ammarod’s gentle innocence, his goofiness, and his perseverance…even his looks resembled Ammarod, apart from the hair and skin. Benny knew about their past now, at least on a general basis, and while Magenta had helped her reunite with Benny for a moment, she was still worried about the events to come.

  “Virtue,” a voice called her back to reality as a green hand rested on her shoulder.

  Virtue placed her own hand on Bum’s calloused fingers. “Oh goodness! I’m so sorry, Bum.”

  The noise of the evening regulars in the bar returned to her consciousness. She had taken a break from waitressing and bartending and sat in a cubby behind the bar. “Why don’t you go get some rest? You don’t look so well.”

  “No,” she said, standing up, “I think it’d be better to stay busy…keep my mind off things. An idle mind wouldn’t help me much right now.”

  She moved among the patrons, taking orders, fetching drinks and the usual, but her mind was constantly drawn back to Ammarod, who he once was and what he’d become. Her respite with Benny, which she had expected to heal her troubled mind, now seemed like a distant memory. Then it came, that musky scent of old: wet earth, moss, smoke. She heard the tavern doors open and felt the room grow cold as a robed figure stepped into the room. The jovial voices of the patrons grew hollow, their movements screeching to a halt in mid-air. Virtue knew the woman behind the robe.

  “It’s obvious enough who you are. Knock off the parlor tricks,” Virtue said. She was taken back at the brashness of her own voice. Dale’s rubbing off on me, she thought to herself.

  Black tip
ped fingers revealed themselves from the dark, gauzy sleeves and pulled back her hood. The pentagram tattooed on her face was new, but the dark eyes, razor teeth, and icy blue lips were just as Virtue had remembered them. “You have something that belongs to me, Virtue…or should I say, Laurel.” She smiled, revealing her mouth of daggers.

  “I own nothing of any value to you. I know the power you have, and anything in my possession would be useless to you, witch.”

  “I’m not talking about books, potions, or charms, stupid girl. You’ve taken something I can never get back…” There was sorrow in the witch’s voice, despite her wickedness. “…You stole my children’s hearts.”

  Virtue was confused by her words, and made no connection as to who these “children” could be. “Benny?” she whispered.

  “And another. One whose fate was meant for you,” she said.

  Virtue’s heart plunged into her stomach. “Ammarod! You are the mother of Ammarod and my Benny. They’re brothers!” While she had shared her rape with Benny, and some broad details of her past with Ammarod, Benny had not told her of his connection with Ammarod or this woman.

  “I love all my children, little wench, and it hurts a mother to see her sons give love meant for her to one like you. Yes, I am responsible for what happened to Ammarod. My servants were meant to kill you, and bring my son to me. I should’ve known better then to trust hungry, fresh-turned vampires with the task. But I have made up for my mistake tenfold…I gave Ammarod a new body, added a few of the noble features of the Kudgel race, and made him the mightiest leader this world has ever seen. I have taught him the magic of absorbing souls, and he has inherited the ability to dematerialize into smoke…very similar to the skills of my beloved Benny.”

  “You are some witch indeed, for Ammarod to follow you after what you did to him.”

  At this statement, the witch frowned. “He doesn’t know, and he isn’t going to find out. He thinks I rescued him. I slaughtered and ate the vampires who attacked him…he was barely alive when I found him, his limbs torn from his body and entrails strewn through the orchard like garlands of holly in winter time. I healed him the best I could, but in the end created the new body he has now.” The witch grinned. “I’m sure you got to experience it. No thanks required.”

  “You can’t control what he’s become,” Virtue declared.

  “And I don’t intend to. Even now, I have the power to kill Ammarod in an instant, although I’d never raise a hand against my children…at least not to kill them. I do, however, have no qualms about killing you!”

  “Why did you do it, witch? Why did you destroy what we had…why are you doing the same now with Benny?”

  She cackled, “Do call me Winona, little bat. I would at least like you to know the name of the one killing you. As to your question, I already told you. I’ve kept an eye on all my children, though I felt it best not to interfere with their lives for some time. However, I grew to miss them terribly…then I noticed how attached Ammarod had grown to you. It enraged me to see him love you so dearly, love that should have been mine. I gave birth to him, and to Benny and Aiken! They are mine, and belong to me! I will not have the likes of you stealing their affection.”

  “You abandoned them! Ammarod never knew his mother, and neither did Benny. Not to mention his father dying at a young age, and Aiken abandoning him. If you wanted their love, you had to have actually been there to experience that love.”

  Winona shrugged. “You might be right. Perhaps I should have given up my black magic, settled down and raised a family, but it’s not my way. I go with the flow of the wind, the tremble of the earth, and the rolling of the rivers.”

  “You’re helplessly messed up,” Virtue said.

  “I always was the jealous type. I will, of course, lie to Benny about your death…perhaps blame it on my soldiers, or some ailment. I can’t have my son thinking any worse about me than he already does. I’d like to tell you it’s not personal…but that would be a lie.”

  Virtue tried to move, but couldn’t. While her consciousness had been spared by the spell, physically she was as frozen as the other bar patrons. She knew and could feel the power building in the witch, and knew her death would come swiftly if she didn’t act. There was a spell she’d studied only briefly, but it was her only chance of combating Winona’s power.

  “Do what you feel is necessary, Winona,” Virtue said.

  A single, bloody tear streamed from Winona’s eye. “I will have my family back!”

  She rushed at Virtue and, in an instant, it was over.

  Chapter 10

  The Horns

  B enny was glad for several days of rest and comfort, enjoying the surprisingly warm hospitality of the frost dwarves. But this reprieve also gave him time to think about being alone. Dale had Helena, and Burgundy had his lascivious dreams, but Benny slept by himself. He missed Virtue, and wanted to sleep in her arms again. That also reminded him of Magenta, who had animated Virtue for a night with him. There was a trace of guilt there; had it been only his wife he appreciated? He had known it was Magenta hosting Virtue, and maybe there had been some feeling for Magenta herself, pretty enough and surely a worthy woman. She had played the role perfectly. How could he be sure exactly whom he was really kissing, in his fancy? It wasn't that he didn't love Virtue, just that there might be an admixture of something else.

  Helena took one look at him. “Magenta! I must play the flute.”

  Benny looked at her blankly. His expression had reminded her of Magenta?

  “Magenta gave me a flute,” she explained. “It will alert her to our arrival here, so she can join us. It is time.”

  Benny felt a glad thrill. Then he stifled it as his guilt welled up. “Why should Magenta join us here?”

  “She is part of the denouement. We need her.”

  “Need her for what?” He was arguing the case as much with himself as with her. “She has the Kudgels to pacify; she is surely busy.”

  Helena pondered momentarily. “I am not completely clear on that. I just know that she has to be with us. But it may take a few days for her to get here. She has to find the right teleportation stone.”

  Benny was relieved and disappointed. If Magenta came here, Virtue could animate her and he could kiss her. If that was really all he wanted. At least he would not be put to that test right now.

  The Amazon produced a small wood flute. “I have never been much of a musician, but I suppose music is not the point here. I just need to blow it, I think.”

  “Yes,” Benny agreed.

  She put the flute to her mouth and blew. A lovely melody emerged. Surprised, she stopped, looking at it suspiciously. “I just blew.”

  “You must have more musical talent than you thought.”

  “But I wasn't even trying to play it, just to make a note.” She tried again, and more appealing music came. Benny could see that her fingers weren't covering the keys; it was indeed magic.

  Helena stopped and put it away. “That must suffice.”

  Now, several dwarves had gathered, including the leader, Kolpak. “You have unsuspected talent,” he remarked appreciatively.

  “The flute does, anyway,” she agreed wryly.

  Well rested, they girded themselves for the journey. Kolpak and several frost dwarves led the way to a secret path only they knew that would take them to the horns. The Sorai flew closely overhead, high enough to see the route, low enough so as not to be too visible from afar, lest the path lose its secrecy.

  

  The shaman jerked awake with an exclamation of alarm, but before the dwarves could run to help him, they were struck by a deadly smoke that cloaked their heads and choked them to death. Then the smoke surrounded the shaman and, in moments, he too was dead.

  The smoke cleared to reveal two figures: Ammarod Current and the witch, Winona. “Do you have him, son?” she asked.

  “I have his soul,” Current said. “That's enough. We now know the secret path.”

  �
�That will do,” she agreed. She lifted her voice slightly. “Here to me, folk.”

  Several Kudgels appeared, led by the Grand Hydra. They had hidden until the witch accomplished what was necessary. Now they had the information they needed, and were on their way.

  

  The route was treacherous for anyone not in the know about its pitfalls; Benny appreciated that in passing. They had traversed it, but would need guidance again to return along it. No one would be able to pursue them here. Even the two winged warriors, the Sorai, would have trouble without the guide.

  Yet somehow, he had a nasty feeling about it.

  They reached a high glade whose perimeter dropped off precipitously. “This is it,” Kolpak announced.

  “This is too easy,” Dale muttered.

  “There has to be a catch,” Helena agreed.

  There were the Twin Horns. They were mounted on huge stone pedestals, and were jewel encrusted. One was silver, the other gold. Benny knew that the Gold Horn was the one that would summon the Sky Titans. The one not to blow.

  But they did not have time to linger in admiration. The Cyclops emerged from a shrouded cave. He was twenty feet tall and massive in proportion; the ground shook with his tread. His huge, single eye glared down at them. “You seek the horns?” he demanded. “Before you touch them, you must defeat me in combat.”

  “But this isn't supposed to be a combat mission,” Dale protested. “We are here on behalf of the Planet of Pakk, to make sure the horns don't get blown.”

  “No one has anything to do with the horns without first settling with me,” the Cyclops declared. “Now fight or flee before I throw you off the mountain.”

  “But we come in peace,” Helena said. “We don't want to fight you, but we won't flee.”

  “Only a force that can defeat me in combat is worthy enough to blow the horns,” the Cyclops said, eyeing her with a certain muted appreciation. “Prove yourselves, or get out.”

 

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