by Allan Cole
"An honor," I said sarcastically, determined to at least die with a bit of dignity.
"Not at all. I want to keep a fragment of you close as a reminder of failure, and a caution against vainglory."
"It would hardly appear that you have failed," I said.
"Quite wrong. My failure with you and yours has taken several forms over the decades. Many years ago I sensed the presence of your bloodline, far away and very faintly. I paid no heed, thinking, like most Vacaanese, that the doings of barbarians beyond our Kingdoms were meaningless. But then I felt the presence more strongly. I allowed my senses to follow the trail, and discovered your brother."
His words jolted me fully alert, fully awake. I do not quite know how to explain, but for some reason one sentence the dream/Greif had spoken had never properly impressed itself on me: ...This is what your brother could not embrace... I have talked about this with savants, and have heard the phenomenon is not uncommon: that a man may suddenly swear everyone around him is speaking in a foreign tongue when they are not. One described it as the familiar become strange.
"I allowed my spells to flow out and around Orissa," Raveline continued, "and learned I was being warned, like a jungle beast senses the hunter when he first enters the jungle. Your brother, untutored and with no family tradition of sorcery, was potentially a wizard greater than any land I know has conceived for time beyond memory."
Even in my agony and deathmoment, I felt a thrill of pride, and rage took me. "And so you killed him."
"And so I killed him," Raveline agreed. "I laid my trap carefully. Halab was no more a perfect being than you or I are, so all that was necessary was to cast a small spell encouraging him into the slightest bit of hubris. I sent a larger one against those fools your city respects and calls Evocators, although not one of them then or now has talent enough to divine water if he were drowning. They were to feel threatened by Halab, and to send against him, when he asked to be examined to become an Evocator, their most lethal devices. Your brother was tested. He easily stood against those paltry sprites the Evocators hurled at him, and was about to be victorious. Here was my first failure - I still had not properly measured his greatness.
"I cast two mighty spells then. One to make time have a stop, which gave me moments to summon a being whose nature and name I must not even think of. The creature's price was high: an township of innocents was sacrificed afterward. I killed Halab, or rather my creature did. But even then, my success was not complete. Rather than being blotted out from this and all other worlds, Halab managed to leave his ghost behind, like any man who met death unshriven or -avenged. At that time, I should have sent doom against all you Anteros. It was foolish to believe Halab was a sport, a freak. All of your family has a bit of the Talent. Your sister has a fair amount of it, made greater in that she has not married, bred nor coupled with a man. You, too, have a bit, as you of course are aware."
"Ah," Raveline said, having noted the flash of startlement that must have flickered. "You did not know. It is not great, but has been sufficient, over the years, for you to sidestep hostile magicks without being aware of them. Men call such a trace of the Power luck. I shall, by the way, make sure the Antero `luck' disappears, by extirpating your entire line within the next few weeks." He amused himself with my agony for a moment, then: "I will return to my confession. I must admit I am quite enjoying this, since there has never been anyone in my life I was foolish enough to confide in, nor shall there be anyone again. Unless, perhaps, if I choose to evoke your spirit from time to time and permit it an audience. That might prove amusing.
"To go on. After Halab's death, I let my guard slip, like a wine-filled sentry drowsing on his battlements in the noonday sun. The next I became aware of the Anteros was when you had partnered with Janos Greycloak. Another wizard of remarkable, if unschooled power. Your family attracts sorcery like honey does flies, it would appear. Again, I determined to take action, but again I chose maltempered steel, from the Archons and their much-vaunted tempest which was but a zephyr compared to the powers I wield, then fools such as Cassini. At least, when I failed I had the pleasure of wreaking personal vengeance. Then Nisou Symeon, whose merits I shall severely reevaluate when I am finished with you. At least I have learned not to allow time to pass when a problem presents itself, and that a great problem must be dealt with directly. And I do have Janos Greycloak now. You know, in some ways, Janos might have been greater than Halab, since Halab would have been no more than an inchoate, if great, force for what you groundlings label as good. Janos, with his determination to measure, catalog and analyze magic into a system could have shaken this world, and perhaps some of the ones beyond, to their roots. It is fortunate for me that greatness describes his vices as well as his virtues. Janos Antero Greycloak is quite comfortably defanged now."
Raveline held out his hand, fingers up, and closed his talons. "Until two days ago, he was not quite secure within my grasp. But after you left his company after babbling all - oh yes, I listened, in spite of Greycloak's puerile attempts at casting a blocking spell - he notified me of what had occurred. I told him what he must do... and he obeyed! He obeyed! And now he is mine."
"And yet you still fear him." I said.
"I fear no one," Raveline said boldly. But his eyes darted to the side as he spoke. He recovered, and snapped, "Enough of this. The conversation has ceased to amuse. Now it is time for me to clasp you to me. Come, Amalric Antero. Come to your doom."
Raveline opened his arms and smiled. I felt his power, in crashing waves. My own arms lifted. I took a step forward. Raw red anger rolled over me, and his spell shattered. My hands came down. Raveline was taken aback.
"You have more power than I thought. Greif! Bring him to me!"
Greif came out of his paralysis and sprang forward, his hugely muscled arms pinioning mine and he lifted me free of the ground, crushing me in a grinding chestlock. But then it was easy, and his hold sent my muscle-memory flashing back to oiled bodies grappling on mats, shouting judges and desperate tricks old wrestlers taught while admonishing us never to use them in sport. I backkicked against Greif's knee and he yelped, grip loosening enough for my right fist to smash back into his genitals. His arms came loose as he shrieked, finding agony beyond awareness of this chamber. I turned into him, my fists joining and lifting high above my head and hammerstriking at the base of his neck. Greif was probably dead at that moment, but as he fell to the stone floor I had a fistful of his greasy hair in one hand, my foot on his neck and I jerked sharply upward. His neck snapped like a rotten limb.
I thought I heard a whisper, a voice I had not heard since I held a dying man in my arms in the streets of Lycanth: "Now I am truly free..."
I came back into a fighting stance, ready for Raveline's attack. But he had not moved, and now his smile was a bit broader. "That rubbish," he remarked, "shall go unmissed. This becomes interesting. Now it shall be what latent power you Anteros have, against my tested, developed skills. Again I order you. Come to me, Amalric Antero!" This time his fingers wove a spell, and he whispered words which, even though I could not make them out, sent a wormcrawl through me.
The chamber grew darker, until there was nothing but Raveline's presence, and then nothing but his eyes, beckoning tunnels that ordered me forward... drowning pools of evil pulling me like a maelstrom. My mind swirled and was drawn in and there was but a moment for my thought and perhaps I called Halab's name, not even hoping for a miracle in this evil cavern. And it was if a layer of gauze transposed itself in front of Raveline's basilisk-gaze. The room brightened and in that instant I was free, free to leap forward, without grace, without intent, as a goalkeeper deadens a ball before it can score. I crashed into Raveline, and sent him stumbling back and down.
I scrabbled toward him, trying for a grip, hoping I might seize his dagger before he brought me under his spell once more. But Raveline's abilities were more than sorcerous. He snaprolled away like a tournament wrestler, and was on his feet, hand drawing that dagger
as sinuously as a serpent bares his fangs. Its blade glittered and I knew it to be ensorcelled. But this time I did not allow time for the snake to gaze on the rabbit, for in that light that had appeared as I called for Halab's aid I saw an archway behind where Raveline had stood, and I was running as hard as I could. But as I ran I heard that monstrous mocking laughter of Raveline's, and heard his words as clearly as if he were standing next to me, "You wish to play this out? You shall have your wish. They say the prey's flesh is made sweeter through terror and pain. Go, Antero. My hounds are already on the scent. We shall meet shortly, when you have been brought to bay."
I paid no mind. I had escaped the first trap, and would face the next when it was sprung. I ran on, taking every stair that led upward. Above me was the ruined city and its creatures, but there was also the sky and the night and the air. My lungs seared air, and my tortured body begged for mercy, and I paid neither the slightest heed. I found two gates, gates that reached high into the gloom above. They were locked with a crossbar as thick as my body, just at the height of my shoulders.
I looked for a windlass or lever, but saw none. I shoved at the bar vainly, knowing it would take a squad of soldiers to muscle it free. But the crossbar silently lifted and the gates were unlocked. I but touched those gates and they swung open, exquisitely balanced either by construct or magic. Moonlight gleamed through the doors. The clouds had washed away while I was in Raveline's death chamber. Outside the gates were huge toppled stones, broken pillars and the shattered paving of the cursed, ruined city.
I ran out into the cold moonlight. I hoped to find a negotiable ravine or slope that would lead me either down to the flatlands or to the river. I was willing to chance my luck swimming those viscous-looking waters through the rapids to seek safety downstream. I took a moment to get my bearings from the stars, frigidly indifferent as they stared down. I picked a direction I thought the quickest route to the plateau's rim would lay, and having recovered a bit of my wind, trotted off. I heard the first howlings from Raveline's creatures. I so dub them, even though I do not know if they were his creations or merely maleficent beings whose vile desires paralleled the Prince's. The baying grew louder and I broke into a run. I came into a broad avenue. Down the center of the boulevard lay the remains of toppled statues. I wasted a glance as I ran past. Each statue's face had been effaced, as if a mason had chiseled each countenance away after the statues were brought down.
The statues were of men, but men not as we know them, nor had the models been giants nor dwarfs. I do not quite know how to describe them, except the proportions were not as they should have been. I had no more time for observation, as the first of the creatures broke from a sidestreet toward me. The moonlight delineated him - it - well. Imagine a large man, almost a giant, running on his hands and feet. Further conceive that this man's arms and legs had been broken repeatedly, and reshaped so that it became a bit easier for him to travel in this fashion than it would for a normal human. Stretch a skullface until it is twice as long as a man's, add fangs, elongate and slant the eyes a bit like a wolf, although that noble creature should not be compared to this beast, finish with a pale, rotted skin like a leper hides from the world, and you have a fairly accurate picture. Its claws clattered against the stones as it closed on me. Its baying rose into triumph, then became a howl of surprise as I scooped up a fist-sized chunk of rubble and threw it with all my strength full into its face.
The creature reared and fell, writhing in blind agony and astonishment. Perhaps the prey it had hunted previously struck back. I fled on. Behind me I heard more howling. At the end of the boulevard I looked back. The monster's packmates had joined their crippled fellow. But they were not chasing me. Instead, they took the moment to feed on their crippled brother. I chose another street, and ran toward where the ruins, and the highland, should come to an end.
Something smashed into me, knocking me spinning. I backflipped reflexively, and saw yet another of the beasts, just as it landed, spun back toward me and leapt. Another of Janos's trainings flashed to mind, and as the beast's jaws gaped, and I smelt its putrescent breath, I fed it my left forearm, smashing the limb sideways against the back of its throat. I felt the fangs tear my flesh as my other arm went behind the back of its neck, clenched, and I brought my left arm sharply upward and my right in toward me, and the beast's neck broke cleanly. I let its weight turn me, and brought the creature down, falling with my knees against its chest and heard ribs crack like withies.
I regained my feet and sped on. I hoped the pack would appreciate another morsel, and that the beast's fangs had not been poisoned. Just at that moment my second wind came, and pain fell away. Now I could run all night if it were necessary. I heard a roar, and thought it to be the river below. I must be near the edge of the plateau. Ahead of me the ground dipped into a natural amphitheater the builders of this city had used to build their own arena, one vaster than Orissa's Great Amphitheater. Stone steps led down a hillside to the stage, which had been protected with a stone canopy. Some of the columns that had supported the canopy were still standing, with fragments of the dome hanging on their capitals. And beyond was a vertical cliffedge. I must skirt it until I found a ravine I could use for my descent.
In that moment the beasts trapped me. The pack streamed out of nowhere - from the earth itself as if the ground were vomiting them. I ran toward the stage, leaping from step to step. I jumped to the stage and put my back to a column. I grabbed two more chunks of stone for weapons. The creatures encircled me, and, snarling and yapping, began closing the ring. I knew they would not be allowed to kill me, but imagined Raveline would permit me to be thoroughly savaged before he pulled his hounds off. One creature chanced a lunge, and I crushed his skull as a bravo's reward. Now the ring was tighter as the pack came in on me. I ventured a look behind me and confidence flowed. I would die here I knew. But I would not perish either under the fangs of these brutes nor from Raveline's magic. When the end became inevitable, I would choose the quick clean death of the long fall to the river and rocks below.
And then my ferret returned. I did not know what he was at first, but I heard a hissing, a whistle, and liquid death flowed through the amphitheater toward me. It was almost thirty feet long, sleek light-colored fur and red-glowing eyes, and I knew not its nature until I bethought myself of a mink, and then knew better, seeing the black mask around its face just as the huge ferret took the first of the creatures from the rear, nipped once delicately at its spine and cast the corpse aside. The pack howled dismay at this new and unexpected attack and turned to savage the newcomer. But the ferret was here, there, nowhere and everywhere, and every time its fangs snapped, one of the nightmares yapped its last.
One of Raveline's creatures bounded free, and bayed a command. The others broke away from the battle and scuttled up the steps, trying to flee, but being slaughtered as they fled. Then they were gone, and the great animal reared back on its haunches, snake-like head seeking new quarry and in that moment I knew not only what, but who the being was, as my memory cast the picture of my long-dead pet, scenting the wind just before it slid after a rabbit. He came back toward me, his long tail whipping, whistling a greeting as he had done years and years ago, and even in that moment of the greatest danger I found myself choking back sobs.
The air shimmered next to my pet, and a manlike form appeared. I knew it to be Halab's ghost, and opened my mouth for a greeting, and then ferret and shade were gone. As was the moon, the stars and the entire amphitheater. It was if a black dome had been dropped down. From its middle shone a dim ghostlight. All that existed in this world was the stage, the columns that had held the roof... and Raveline. He held his dagger ready.
"Most clever," he snarled, and now there was no pretense of being casual. "And I have just made my last error with you, when I estimated you had but little of the Talent. I did not sense at any time you had any spirits watchdogging you. Very clever indeed. Why did you not call on your brother or whatever that beast is for rescue
back in Irayas when Greif abducted you? Or were you setting a trap for me?"
Raveline stopped, and shook his head in wonderment. "The double-cunning that sorcery brings. But it does not matter whether you hunted me, or I you. This dome, this shield, is one of my proudest spells. It utterly seals us. We are beyond the reach of any power I know, earthly or supernatural. I prepared it years ago, when my brother and I were first struggling over which one our father, damned may his soul be, would choose to rule over Vacaan. It is, perhaps, the ultimate version of that protective spell Janos cast and then lifted over you. It is proof against all, and will only vanish when I will it... or I die. Its only limitation is the spell disallows the use of magic by anyone, including myself, under the dome.
"So here it is, Antero. You have your wrestling skills... and I have mine. And I have the knife. Now without the powers my magic gave it, but still razor enough to cut your guts out. I am truly sorry your skills have defeated my attempts to make your demise more complex, but so be it. At least your ghost shall never be avenged, and shall never know peace in its wanderings. This time, Antero, I shall come to you." True to his words, he shuffled toward me.
I have never considered myself either a fully-skilled soldier or backalley brawler and know little about knives other than the most sensible thing is to flee with great rapidity anyone waving a blade about. However, Janos had tutored us what to do when faced with various assailants, when unarmed. There were ways to disarm and destroy a man who held his knife like an icepick, like a candle or one who waved his knife wildly in front of him as if a blade provided a magical shield. As for a man who moved like Raveline, who shuffled in slowly, moving crablike always toward your weak side, keeping his blade well back, against his thigh or nearly touching his side, with his other hand extended for a block.... Janos had smiled grimly and told us there were but two options: flight or death.
