Anna was surprised when the warrior’s head bumped into her bottom. The large man was evidently quite capable of traversing the narrow passage. She quickened her pace as much as she thought she could while still remaining quiet, but she once again felt the impact on her rear. At first she thought the swordsman was being forward, but this was neither the time or the place for such thoughts.
The tunnel opened up on a slightly wider space. The light came from an opening perhaps eight feet above, accessed by a hand-dug shaft. The space was wide enough for Anna, but once Khan-Tral entered, it became quite cramped. Silently and effortlessly, the warrior lifted Anna by her legs and thrust her up the shaft.
The room above was a cell. A simple stone cube with a heavy, reinforced wooden door. There was a small grill in the doorway that revealed nothing but darkness beyond.
Anna pulled herself up and into the cell. Khan-Tral emerged almost immediately. He laid on the floor and ducked his head, arms, and torso into the hole, returning holding Lamb by both wrists. He set the doctor down on the floor and all three sat against the wall next to the door so as not to be seen by passers-by.
Anna listened carefully. She could hear creaks and drips, but no signs of life. There were no cries or groans of prisoners. No clink of keys or armor. No taps of spears on the ground. No sounds one would expect in a dungeon.
She looked to the others and put her hand to her ear and shook her head. Lamb nodded acknowledgment, but Khan-Tral stood and looked out the window in the door. He turned to the other two, walked his across his palm, and shook his head. Then he put his head against the wood of the door and leaned into it, listening intently.
The swordsman smiled and motioned for Anna to join him. She stood, and Lamb followed. Khan-Tral pointed a finger at the keyhole in the door and made a turning motion.
Anna looked at him confused. The warrior took her hand and put her narrow finger into the keyhole. He wanted her to try and pick the lock. Anna shrugged, and Khan-Tral nodded encouragement.
Instinctively, Anna drew a specific knife from her bandoleer. It was a stiletto. She stuck the narrow blade into the keyhole and twisted gently, feeling the inner workings and picturing them in her mind as if she had done it many times before. She wiggled the blade, and then there was an audible click and the door sagged. She turned to see Lamb giving her a look of surprise.
Khan-Tral cracked the door open and peered in the exposed direction. Then he opened the door a bit farther and looked furtively through the window. He shook his head, opened it all the way, and stepped through.
Anna stowed the stiletto and drew two larger blades from her collection. Lamb brandished the golden baton, though he did not know how it had done what it had done. Then they followed the warrior.
The dungeon was deserted. There were no signs of any activity, and all the cells they peeked into were empty. At the one end of the corridor, a formidable double-door stood partially open. A large chamber, clearly lit by flickering torches, stood beyond. The other end stretched endlessly into darkness.
Khan-Tral headed toward the double-doors as if he knew where he was going. He had drawn his enormous sword and held it at the ready with both hands. Anna made a mental note to stay back far enough to avoid his swing.
They crept toward the double-doors in silence, stepping carefully on the stone flags of the floor. Warm, dry air blew gently toward them from the room, which was unusual for an underground chamber, especially a large one.
When they reached the doors, the room was indeed very large. It was decorated in red with gold trim. Innumerable torches burned from sconces in the walls, but the room was primarily lit by the radiant glow from a pit in the center of the chamber.
At the opposite end of the room, beyond the pit, stood what looked like a column of translucent gold sitting on a marble pedestal. Inside the column was a young man who Anna knew was Brian Teplow.
Sitting on a raised throne next to the pedestal was a middle-aged man in red and gold robes with a crimson cape. A golden gorget hung from a chain around his neck. His evil face was crowned by a conical, red hat that matched his robes. He also held a crystal-tipped staff.
“You have finally arrived,” the Red Wizard said with a malign smile.
Chapter 26
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“YOUR TIME HAS COME, RED WIZARD!” Khan-Tral shouted, charging toward him with his sword poised for an overhead chop.
“Did you think it would be that easy?” Gho-Bazh taunted. With a wave of his staff, the perimeter of the chamber was lined with Pointees bearing jewel-tipped spears.
As in the New York Subway, the wizard’s guards were slightly taller than Lamb and covered head to foot in coarse hair, though these wore their red and gold livery under armored, leather vests. Their feet were cloven and their heads were crowned with a pair of short, curved horns. Unlike the ones in New York, however these Pointees were not spectral, and had pronounced, goat-like snouts.
Khan-Tral was intercepted by four of the guards who appeared between him and his foe.
“Did you think that I didn’t know of your tunnel? Or the catacombs beneath the palace?” He sneered. “Yes indeed, Nab,” he said to Lamb, “why could they dig their way out? And where did the dirt go? You would think that a mountaintop fortress would be built on solid rock.”
Anna was not surprised. This was the man from the cabinet in Rose’s torture chamber. The Red Wizard from the dream she had had under the influence of the injection she received from Mickey Elder. Unlike everything else in this reality, the scene was different but the red-clothed man was still an adversary.
While the wizard and the swordsman exchanged words, she slowly made her way toward Khan-Tral, keeping him between her and the wizard.
“No so fast, assassin mine,” Gho-Bazh said. Suddenly chains reappeared, connecting her wrist and ankle cuffs, and she fell forward onto her face. “You had your chance to regain my trust and kill the Queen of Brynner, but you failed.” He looked at Lamb, who had not moved from the doorway, “So she sent you to kill me instead, with this bowless archer as a minder.”
“WE CAME FOR DEB-ROH!” Khan-Tral said defiantly. The wizard was not amused.
“Must you always be so bombastic?” he said and waved his hand, and the warrior turned to stone. “You,” he looked to Anna, “have another agenda, I think.” He glanced at some of the guards along the wall, and two stepped forward, grabbed Anna under the arms, and dragged her before the throne. Lamb tried to come to her aid, but his path was blocked by crossed spears.
The Red Wizard stood and descended the pedestal to stand over Anna and take hold of her chin. “You wish to steal my companion from me.” He turned her head toward the column.
It was Brian Teplow, dressed as described in his journals. He was alive and aware, but moved in extremely slow motions through the viscous golden fluid that filled the cylinder.
“Well,” Gho-Bazh said, releasing her chin and walking behind her, “you cannot have him.” He paced around the pit toward Lamb. “Deb-Roh is essential for the imprisonment of the Dark One. If he were to leave, or die, for that matter, this realm and everything in it would cease to be. The Dark One would again be free to tempt humanity and reap horror and despair on the real world.”
“You know where we are?” Lamb asked in surprise.
“Of course,” the wizard replied, turning on his heel to stand in the doctor’s face. “This entire existence has been created from the mind of my good friend there. His abilities are so strong, especially when enhanced by the Siashutara serum, that he created everyone and everything here. Except us, of course.”
“Why are you opposed to Utgarda?” Anna asked, straining against the grip of the Pointees, but hampered by her bonds.
“Utgarda,” Gho-Bazh said conversationally, turning to walk back to Anna, “the Dark One, Satan, Loki, Coyote, Huehuecoyotl, Hanuman, Hermes, the Black Pharaoh. He has so many names across all of human history. But in all those innumerable forms, he has but one goal: to cruelly d
eceive and manipulate mankind and cause madness and destruction.”
“He has tempted many over the course of millennia, causing the worst events in human history to pass. The Tower of Babel? Havoc caused by the Dark One. Pandora’s box? Madness spread by Hermes. The Ten Plagues of Egypt. The Black Death.
“He offers wealth, or riches, or knowledge, or power,” Gho-Bazh continued. “His resources are without end and his abilities indescribable. He has preyed on humanity for centuries, and we are helpless before him.”
“And how did he tempt you?” Anna asked. “You are Meyer Kovacs, an eminent anthropologist.” The wizard turned anxiously at the mention of the name. “Did the Dark One offer to bring back your wife?”
“No,” he said. “I discovered commonalities among various cultures in the undeveloped world. Similar habits, patterns, symbols, stories. From the Incas to the Aborigines, the Mongols to the Maya, every culture had a version of the Dark One, and every culture had a tale of one who rose to greatness with his aid.”
“I was under great pressure at that time,” the wizard continued passionately. “I needed something extraordinary to make tenure. My peers were establishing a precise discipline and passing me by. Malinowski had embedded himself with a tribe of New Guinea natives and lived among them. Durkheim linked religion to the emotional security attained through communal living. Sapir was looking at the relationship between unique linguistic qualities and differences in cultural world views. I had to come up with something just as groundbreaking.”
“And Utgarda helped you,” Lamb said in accusation. Kovacs rounded on him.
“Yes. I was looking for the basis of magic in primitive societies. Laymen said that magic was just the catch-all explanation for the unknown, but I wanted to know how that practice and perception of magical rituals came about. I had read every tome and treatise on the topic. I visited tribes and villages all over the world. I focused on the undeveloped world as that was in vogue, and came up with common themes, but could not make the leap from belief to reality.”
“And the Dark One offered the solution to you,” Anna said, still on her knees, held down by the goat-men.
“No,” the wizard said, turning to Anna. “He didn’t tell me the solution, he gave it to me. He granted me the ability to do magic. Not illusion or deception, but the actual altering of reality.” His tone changed and became more rational. “Of course, I knew that these powers had to be kept under control. I used them sparingly. I gave myself tenure. I made the program at Reister University important to the governors. I established myself as a notable persona in the field. Everything fit into place. Nicely. Cleanly. Without complications.”
“But there was a price,” Anna said knowingly. “There always is.”
“Yes,” the wizard said, his demeanor turning melancholic. “The dramatic changes I caused did not sit well with my wife. Each time I altered reality, she was altered along with it. At first, the changes were insignificant. A preference for orange over strawberry. Attacks of hay fever where she had previously not been affected.”
“But as my station improved, her changes became more significant. When I received the Virchow Endowment, Maria started hearing everything. The settling of the house, creaks in the floorboards, insects in other rooms, the fluttering of birds outside. It grew steadily worse. I tried to use the power to help her, but I could not. I could only change things to improve myself.”
“I used it one last time, to grant myself the latitude in my duties to take care of her, but that was the last straw. Her disability apparently had increased to the point where she could hear other people’s thoughts. She refused to leave the house. And she declined steadily thereafter until she consumed an entire bottle of laudanum.”
“I was consumed with guilt. I cloistered myself in my home and attempted to carry on, but I was a broken man. Over time, I became consumed with rage. I reached out with my powers. I did not care about consequences now. And I found Brian Teplow. His psychic abilities were immense, but untapped. He was experimenting with experience-enhancing drugs that a vagrant he had encountered in the hospital was providing him.” He gestured toward Khan-Tral.
“Brian had met Peter Gulden here in their collective imagination. In reality, Gulden was a drug-addled veteran of the Great War who was introduced to the Siashutara serum by Utgarda in France. Brian here created the story of their adventures together, and Gulden provided the Siashutara serum they used to return there for the next few years, where they gained a reputation.”
“This is when I discovered Brian. His mind was able to create and sustain this world and everything in it. Using the powers Utgarda had given me, I entered this world and slowly established myself as an adversary worthy of heroes such as he had made of them. And when they came for me, I dominated Brian and kept him, imprisoned them, and initiated the rituals to trap the Dark One here.”
“But the barbarian there broke them out of my dungeon and weakened the enchantment. The backlash sent them back to reality, along with fragments of this world. Teplow gained his spirit medium powers. He went home to his mother and fame and fortune. However, Peter Gulden returned to his helpless, aimless life.”
“And the Dark One was once again free to prey on humanity. He sent his minions to stop me-”
“You mean the Junazhi,” Anna said.
“Yes, the flying fungi. But I was too strong. They attempted to isolate my mind, and trapped me in an alien containment device. I resisted as best I could, but they eventually broke me. I was their prisoner, but they exposed me to their collective consciousness. I feigned catatonia, and learned the secrets of the universe.
“And then they brought Brian Teplow to me. They extracted his brain as well, and before they could assimilate him, I managed to escape the physical confines of my body and bring us both here. But Brian was not grateful. He attempted to flee, so I had to contain him and ensure that he maintained this realm indefinitely. So I trapped him in that stasis cylinder, where he exists at a fraction of real time, as much as time here can be considered real, so I can focus on binding the Dark One to this place and protecting the real world from him.”
“But Utgarda needed Brian. It was a simple matter to lure Gulden back with more of the Siashutara serum. He extended some power to Gulden and charged him with finding him. When he was killed in the real world, Utgarda somehow managed to bring him here. But he was lost without his companion, and of no threat to me. Until now.”
“And with Brian trapped here,” Lamb interjected, “you have been capturing people to sacrifice for the spell to bind Utgarda?”
“That is correct,” the wizard said with a sigh. “A necessary evil.”
“But how is that any better than what Utgarda does in the real world?” Anna retorted. “Across human history, the trickster god tempts people into doing things that they know they should not. His victims are responsible for their own fate. You are stealing the lives of all those you sacrifice. You are responsible for their fates.”
“But these are not real people,” the wizard countered, kneeling next to Anna in front of Khan-Tral’s statue. “These people are figments of Brian’s imagination. They do not really exist. Their imitation sacrifice protects the people of the real world.”
“They are as real here as you and me,” Anna said. “You can touch them, you can see them, you can hurt them,” she thought of Sobak, “and you can love them. They are as real as you believe them to be.” She pondered that thought for a moment and drew a sly smile.
Chapter 27
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They are as real as you believe them to be. Anna pondered that thought for a moment and drew a sly smile.
“They are as real as you believe them to be,” she said again, aloud this time, concentrated, and the shackles, cuffs and all, disappeared. Gho-Bazh gaped in surprise.
She focused on Khan-Tral, and the swordsman reanimated. He had been in mid-strike when he was petrified, and upon coming back to life, continued the swing and chopped the Red
Wizard in two with Nightbane. The shocked Gho-Bazh looked at Anna with surprise, and then his two halves parted in opposite directions.
Suddenly, the pillar containing Deb-Roh shattered and the golden fluid flooded out, washing over Anna, who was still on her hands and knees. There was a soothing sensation, and then the burning and sensitivity in her palms disappeared.
The Pointee guards were no longer unified. Some ran. Others dropped their spears. A few charged Anna and Khan-Tral. Some pointed their crystal spearheads toward the two. The two blocking Lamb were distracted by the attack on their master.
Taking advantage of this, Lamb clubbed one and then the other with the golden baton, and both were knocked down. He then pointed it at the rank of goat-men aiming at his friends and yelled. A burst of energy erupted from the baton and struck the line of Pointees.
Several of the guards dropped where they stood, their furry hides burning, but one fired a bolt that from his crystal that struck Khan-Tral in the back. The swordsman was in the middle of a swing, slicing through a circle of advancing foes just over Anna’s head.
Brian Teplow stood disoriented in the midst of the confusion as several of the Pointees closed in on him. Anna threw a fusillade of knives, and then leapt forward and tackled him. Her blades expertly struck the oncoming guards, who fell or were knocked back by the impacts.
◆
“They’ve got Brian,” O’Malley said with triumph. “Bring them back now.” Bierce did not react at first. There was a brief flash of his attachment, and then nothing. O’Malley was suspicious. “What’s going on?”
“The Junazhi sense that the realm known as Siashutara is becoming undone. Perhaps Brian Teplow is not in control of his senses, or has been disabled in some manner.”
“What difference does that make? They did what you asked them to do. Kovacs is dead and they have Brian Teplow. Now tell them to bring them back here. Now!” Bierce’s attachment flashed rapidly.
The Other Realm Page 16
