Amulet of Doom

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Amulet of Doom Page 9

by Bruce Coville


  I’m not in your head, answered the voice. I’m just talking to you that way.

  “Well, why can’t I see you?”

  I don’t think you want to.

  “Why not?”

  I’m not very pretty.

  “I’m not feeling very pretty myself right now,” said Marilyn, somewhat irrelevantly.

  She received no words in response, only a sense of puzzlement from whatever was talking to her.

  “Listen, I don’t care what you look like. I’d still rather see you if I have to talk to you.”

  For a moment the voice stayed silent. Marilyn glanced over at Kyle, who was staring at her in astonishment.

  “Well?” she cried at last.

  I’m afraid, said the voice.

  “Of what?” she asked impatiently.

  Of frightening you. I need your help, and—

  “Look, if you want my help, let me see you!”

  You’ll scream.

  “In about ten seconds I’m going to scream anyway!”

  Kyle had crawled over and was sitting beside her. He pressed his hand against the inside of her elbow.

  The creature materialized in front of them.

  Marilyn began to scream. Kyle shouted in terror.

  The creature vanished abruptly.

  I knew you would scream, said the voice petulantly.

  “You killed my aunt Zenobia!” cried Marilyn. “I saw you. I saw you in my dreams! You killed her!”

  She could feel his chagrin. That was an accident. I didn’t want her to die. I just wanted her to give the amulet back!

  “You killed her!”

  Kyle’s arms folded around her.

  She felt a stony silence in her mind.

  “What was that?” asked Kyle at last, his voice a mere whisper. She turned to him. His face was etched with lines of fear, and his eyes were deeply troubled. “What’s going on?” he asked, sounding so much like a frightened little boy that she could have wept.

  “I don’t know. I told the voice in my head I wanted to see it.”

  Kyle shuddered. “You mean that … thing is what you’ve been talking to?”

  “I guess so. The worst part is, I’ve seen it before.”

  “Where?”

  “In a dream.”

  “What did you mean when you said it had killed Zenobia? I thought she died of a heart attack.”

  “She did. But what caused the heart attack was that thing we just saw. It scared her to death.” Marilyn paused. “Actually, that’s just what I saw in my dream. But it seemed so real, I assumed it was what happened.” She gave him a weak smile. “Considering what’s going on, I guess it makes as much sense to believe in dreams as anything.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” said Kyle numbly. He stood to look around and gave a low whistle. “Where are we, anyway? Yeah, I know—we’re in the Hall of the Kings. But what does that mean? And how did we get here?”

  “I know how I got here,” said Marilyn. “That creature brought me.” She couldn’t suppress a shudder when she thought of it. “What I don’t understand is how you got here.”

  “I came with you. When you started to disappear, Zenobia screamed for me to grab you. I lunged for you and just managed to catch your heel before you disappeared completely. The next thing I knew, I was lying on this floor, nursing a goose egg.” He shook his head and touched the discolored lump. “I can’t believe I used to think you were boring.”

  “I’m beginning to think boring’s not so bad,” replied Marilyn.

  Kyle stretched out his hand to help her to her feet. Once up, she linked her arm through his and pulled herself close.

  Why does this make me feel better? she wondered. I know there’s nothing he could do if that monster decides to attack us.

  She looked up at Kyle, who was studying the room—looking for a way out, she assumed. Almost reluctantly she turned her face from his and followed his gaze. For the first time the full extent of the place sank in on her.

  It was enormous.

  Kyle gave another low whistle. “I was in the Astrodome once. That was like a family rumpus room compared to this.”

  They turned in a slow circle. On three sides the polished stone floor swept away for hundreds of feet before coming to a wall. The walls themselves appeared to be carved with some sort of pictures, though Marilyn couldn’t make them out from where she stood. The carvings were separated by high, peaked windows. The only thing Marilyn could see through them was clouds.

  The walls soared up some forty or fifty feet before the roof took over and continued the upward swing. Kyle guessed out loud that the arch of the ceiling peaked at about a hundred feet above the center of the hall.

  The fourth wall was not far from them. Centered against it was a huge throne, mounted on a platform.

  Marilyn swallowed uneasily. “Do you think anyone actually sat in that?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know. If he did, I sure hope he’s not around now.”

  Taking her hand, he led her up the steps of the platform. The seat of the throne—covered with a plush, scarlet material somewhat like velvet, yet different than anything Marilyn had ever seen, or felt—was about shoulder height.

  She shivered. “I wonder where the creature went,” she said, glancing behind her. “He said he needed help.”

  “So do we,” replied Kyle. “Come on.”

  He led her across the hall to one of the windows.

  Looking out was dizzying, because the ground was nowhere in sight. Pulling themselves up to lean out over the sill (which was nearly as high as Marilyn’s chin) they could discern the outlines of the building they were in. It seemed to be a great fortress or castle of some sort, built on the side of a mountain and situated so high that there were clouds below them, obscuring the view.

  “If I wasn’t so scared, I would think it was beautiful,” whispered Marilyn. She slid back to the floor. Resting her arms on the wide sill, she gazed worriedly out at the clouds.

  “If I wasn’t so scared, I would think I was dead,” replied Kyle. “This doesn’t look real to me. But I don’t think your stomach can have this many knots in it once you’ve actually kicked the bucket.”

  A cool breeze riffled through his butter-colored hair. Marilyn shifted against him, and he put his arm around her shoulder. She set the amulet on the sill so they could both look at it. The red jewel in the center was flashing angrily.

  “What is this thing?” she asked. “Why has it caused me so much trouble?”

  Kyle shrugged. “I don’t have the slightest idea what’s going on. You haven’t been willing to tell me anything about it.”

  She leaned her head against him. “I just didn’t want to drag you into this.”

  “If we ever get out alive, it will have been worth it.”

  “Right now, that seems like a big if.” She sighed and began to poke at the amulet’s chain, spreading it into a golden circle that glittered on the stone sill. Finally she said, “I’ll tell you what’s happened so far.” Speaking quickly, she filled him in on her experiences since the night Zenobia had first come to her with the amulet.

  He listened with growing astonishment. When she was done he said, “If you had told me all that before tonight, I would have said you were losing your mind.”

  “That’s one reason I didn’t tell you.”

  He nodded. His eyes were troubled, and he was silent for some time. Finally he said, “So what do we do now?”

  “Look for a way out, I guess.”

  There is no way out! roared the voice in her mind. The suddenness of it caused Marilyn to shriek and jump. As she did, her hand caught against the amulet, shoving it outward so that it slipped over the edge of the sill.

  The chain went slithering after it.

  With a little scream Marilyn lunged for it.

  She was too late. Her fingers closed on thin air. As she watched in horror, the amulet disappeared into the clouds below.

  13

  ENTER THE DE
MON

  Marilyn leaned over the sill, staring down at the billowing clouds.

  “Now what do we do?” she whispered, half expecting the voice to answer her. But it was gone again.

  “I don’t know,” said Kyle. “I have a terrible feeling that amulet was connected to our chances of getting out of this place.” He had his arm around her waist and was leaning over the sill with her. Suddenly he cried, “Look!”

  Marilyn saw it, too: a glint of gold in the air below them. Suddenly they could see as well a flash of red through the clouds, like a stray beam of light at sunset.

  “It’s the amulet!” cried Marilyn.

  With the chain danging behind it, the amulet floated back to the windowsill. She snatched it almost before it landed.

  Now be more careful! said the voice angrily.

  “He’s back,” Marilyn whispered to Kyle. Looking around cautiously, she said out loud, “Who are you?”

  My name is Guptas.

  “I figured as much. Why did you bring me here?”

  I need your help.

  “What’s he saying?” asked Kyle impatiently.

  “He says he needs our help.” Turning to address the air in front of her, she said impatiently, “Isn’t there any way you can talk to both of us?”

  Not unless you can see me. And you can’t bear that.

  “I can, too,” said Marilyn defensively. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be …”

  So ugly? asked the voice bitterly.

  She hesitated. That was it, of course, although ugly was a rather mild word to describe this creature as far as she was concerned. But there was such a sense of sadness in the question, she hated to answer it honestly.

  Don’t worry, said the voice. I’m used to it. Do you really think you are strong enough now?

  “Maybe if you answer a few questions first.”

  All right.

  “Ask it what it is,” suggested Kyle.

  The voice didn’t wait for her to repeat the question. I’m a demon.

  “He says he’s a demon,” she whispered to Kyle. She could feel him shudder. Turning her attention back to the voice, she asked, “So you’re evil, right?”

  Let’s say that I am. If so, would you expect me to answer that question honestly?

  Marilyn paused for a moment, puzzled by the response. “How can I trust you?” she asked at last.

  A howl of rage ricocheted through her head, and a sorrow beyond anything she had ever known pierced her heart.

  You can’t trust me! screamed the demon. I am beyond trust. I am Guptas the Betrayer!

  Kyle looked around uneasily, as if he could sense the power of the emotions swirling around him.

  Marilyn acted on instinct. Holding the amulet firmly in her hand, she said, “Let me see you!”

  At once Guptas shimmered into being in front of them. He looked at Marilyn warily, waiting for her to begin screaming again.

  Despite the fact that this time she knew what to expect, Marilyn still drew back in shock. Cringing against Kyle, she could feel him tremble again, which only increased her own fear. Despite that, she was able to hold in the scream that seemed to be beating at the back of her throat.

  The creature confronting her was half again as tall as Kyle and more fearful than any nightmare she had ever known. Any nightmare but one, she thought, remembering the dream of Zenobia’s death.

  Thick muscles rippled over a powerful body covered with rough, dark-red scales. A stiff, scaly crest ran down the creature’s spine, then on along the fierce looking tail that lashed restlessly behind it. The tail ended in a spiked point, which looked as though it could skewer a man’s chest with very little trouble.

  Its hands and feet were armed with four fierce looking claws. Thick, sharp, and black, they looked like they could slice through thick leather as if it were butter.

  But it was the demon’s face that made the whole picture at once so frightening yet at the same time strangely bearable. It had a bullet-shaped head, with two horns curving out in a deadly arc over its brow, which beetled forward like a shelf. At the brow’s edges perched the beast’s ears, which were absurdly tiny—almost cute, thought Marilyn, if you ignored everything else. Nose and mouth thrust outward almost like an ape’s; curving fangs thrust up from the lower jaw. The nose itself was nothing more than two slits, ringed with a fringe of rustling membrane.

  All that was horrifying enough. But it was the creature’s eyes that held Marilyn’s attention. They were as she remembered them from her dream: a flickering red and yellow that made you think when you looked into them you were seeing the fires of hell.

  But now she saw one more thing when she looked into them: the private hell of Guptas the demon.

  They stood staring at one another until the silence seemed to become a living thing between them—the two teenagers locked together at the window, hardly daring to breathe; the demon leaning forward, resting on his knuckles. Guptas shifted his eyes from Kyle to Marilyn and back again, over and over.

  Clearly he was looking for something. But for the life of her, Marilyn couldn’t figure out what.

  When the silence finally became unbearable she asked, “What do you want of me?”

  At least, that was what she tried to say. Her throat had become dry, almost sealed on itself, and the words would not come out.

  Kyle squeezed her hand, and she tried again.

  “What do you want of me?”

  “My freedom,” replied the creature, speaking aloud now.

  There was a tentativeness about the answer, as if there were more he wanted to ask for.

  “What else?” she whispered.

  Guptas shook his head. “Nothing,” he said sadly. “There is nothing else I need that you can give me.”

  “What do I have to do with your freedom?” she asked, though the answer was already beginning to take form in the back of her mind.

  The demon hesitated, and a wary look came into its eyes.

  “And why should she free you, anyway?” asked Kyle indignantly. “You killed her aunt.”

  A look of rage crossed Guptas’s face. “Silence, you!” he roared as he slashed toward Kyle’s face with his ferocious claws.

  “Stop!” cried Marilyn, thrusting the amulet out before her.

  The demon stopped as if frozen, then relaxed back into its former posture. It glared at Kyle as if it would like to tear his heart out.

  “I didn’t mean to kill the old woman,” it snarled. “She died all on her own. She wasn’t supposed to do that.”

  “It’s the amulet,” said Marilyn, as if she hadn’t heard him. “You want me to free you from the amulet.”

  Guptas nodded.

  “But Kyle’s question still makes sense,” she continued. “Why should I free you?”

  A sly look crossed the demon’s face. “Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you.”

  “I think you’ll kill me if I do,” said Marilyn.

  Guptas looked taken aback. A strange expression, half anger, half grief, crossed his face. “I have no hope,” he said hollowly.

  Marilyn thought her heart would break. It was not only the creature’s words, or even his tone of voice. Some kind of connection had been forged between them now, and she could sense his emotional state. She felt a sorrow greater than any she had ever known, deeper and more profound, even, than she had felt at Zenobia’s death.

  “What happened to you?” she whispered. “Where did you come from?”

  Suddenly she cried out. The amulet, clutched firmly in her hand, grew blazing hot. Her body arched once, then went rigid in Kyle’s arms.

  “Marilyn!” he cried. He took her by the shoulders and shook her. “Marilyn, what is it?”

  Her eyes were wide open, but they seemed blank and distant. He shook her again.

  She didn’t respond.

  She couldn’t.

  Guptas was answering her question.

  14

  GUPT THE BETRAYER BETRAYER

  She h
adn’t moved a step, but everything was different.

  She still stood by the window.

  She still looked across that vast chamber.

  But now the place was alive with color and activity. Banners of scarlet and gold fluttered from the ceiling. Exquisite tapestries covered the walls. Musicians wandered here and there, playing lively songs on instruments she had never seen before.

  She reached instinctively for Kyle, but her fingers touched only the cold stone of the sill. He was gone.

  A shudder of horror racked her body. She was alone in a room filled with beings unlike any she had ever seen—they were enormous, for one thing—and creatures unlike any she had ever imagined. Some resembled Guptas. Others were as different from him as he was from her.

  The room bustled with activity.

  Almost everyone seemed happy.

  She pressed against the sill, waiting in terror for the moment when they would discover her. She felt a throb of pain and realized she was beating her hands against the stone wall.

  “Don’t be so frightened,” whispered a gravelly voice. “They don’t know you’re here.”

  The words came from Guptas, who crouched beside her, tail lashing, eyes blazing.

  “Watch,” he said bitterly. “Watch, and I will show you the downfall of Guptas the Betrayer.”

  Suddenly she felt a blast of intense heat. She cried out in pain, then lost consciousness.

  When she opened her eyes again, the room seemed exactly the same as before. The great bustle of activity continued. The pleasant babble of voices was the same—though underneath it all she now sensed a deep current of joy and contentment.

  But that, she understood, had been there all along. Then she realized the one thing that really was different. Now she was seeing all this through the eyes of Guptas.

  The sense of heat remained. Not impossible to bear, it hovered on the edge of pain, like a dull toothache never quite out of mind.

  “Relax,” whispered Guptas.

  Mere words could never have convinced her to do so. But she had become linked with Guptas at an even deeper level, and she could sense what was in his mind. Examining it, she could read no ill will toward herself—only a simmering anger directed elsewhere, and a deep, enduring sorrow.

 

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