Suddenly Guptas was there, roaring in anger. “Let her go! Let her go!” he cried, slashing out at the demons.
It did no good. His arms, mere illusions, passed through them like moonlight through glass.
“I didn’t mean to do it!” he moaned, his voice thick with sorrow and remorse. “I didn’t mean to do it!”
A vicious wrench at her legs tore Marilyn’s hands from Kyle, and she found herself in the open, outside the table. Somewhere behind her she could hear Kyle screaming.
“The amulet!” cried Guptas. “Use the amulet!”
Marilyn wrenched her hand free of the demon that was holding it. The amulet blazed with light.
“Stop!” she cried.
The demons drew back a bit.
“Stop!” she repeated.
An angry murmur rose from the horde. A set of claws slashed at her arm but missed, as if their owner didn’t dare actually strike her.
“Stop!” she commanded a third time, scrambling to her feet as she did.
The demons drew back, forming a wary circle around her.
Kyle was still screaming. With a shout Marilyn broke through the circle of demons. Another circle had formed at the other end of the table. She thrust her way into it, holding the amulet before her like a shield.
Kyle, bleeding in a dozen places, looked up at her. His eyes were glazed with terror.
“Let go of him!” she screamed.
The amulet blazed, grew so hot she almost dropped it, and the demons pulled back.
She reached down to Kyle, still holding the amulet before her, turning warily this way and that to keep the crowd of demons at bay.
He took her hand and staggered to his feet.
The demons grouped themselves around the two teens, muttering nervously, angrily.
Marilyn could feel herself connected with the amulet, feel the flow of her strength into it, and through it. Though it was holding the creatures at bay, it was draining her as it did. She knew she wouldn’t last much longer.
As if sensing this, the demons began to press forward.
Holding the amulet above her, as a lone traveler might hold a torch to ward off wolves, Marilyn backed warily away from them.
They pressed slowly forward, seeming to push against some invisible wall she was creating.
Her heart was pounding against her ribs like some caged animal. The wound on her leg was throbbing, and she was still losing blood. Her head felt light. She feared she was about to faint. But she knew if she faltered for even a moment, she and Kyle were dead.
She felt something against her back, and realized it was the rim of the forge. Together, without speaking, they slid up onto it.
The flames behind them seared their backs.
There was nowhere left to go.
The demons drew closer.
“Marilyn!” cried Guptas. “You can’t hold them off much longer. Free me! Free me and I will fight for you!”
“Don’t be insane!” shrieked Cooley. “If you let him loose now, it’s the end of everything! He’s their leader. They’ll be invincible.”
The demon horde inched forward. Marilyn could feel her control weakening. The flames roaring behind her seemed to be sapping her strength. Her head was throbbing. She couldn’t think.
“Let me out!” cried Guptas again. “Marilyn, let me fight for you!”
Marilyn looked at the demon, then at Cooley. Between them the demon horde, held barely in check by her waning strength, muttered and crouched, waiting to leap, eager to tear her to shreds.
I’m ready to die, she thought. But then she felt Kyle beside her, his arms around her. She couldn’t think about his death. She couldn’t let that happen.
Her head spun with exhaustion. She staggered and almost fell backward into the flames. It was only a matter of moments before she would lose her grip and the horde would attack.
“Hold on, Marilyn,” whispered Kyle, tightening his grip and trying to steady her. “Hold on!”
It wasn’t enough. The demons were beating down her resistance. Each of them had its fiery eyes boring into her, willing her to die. They began to chant, some guttural cry that had no meaning but seemed to beat the little remaining strength out of her brain.
She could feel herself wavering.
“Now, Marilyn!” cried Guptas. “Free me now before it’s too late!”
The demons were winning. Binding them was like trying to hold water in a sieve.
The chant grew louder. One of the demons made a sudden push forward. Another followed him.
She was losing control.
“Now!” cried Guptas.
“Don’t be a fool!” screamed Cooley. “He’ll kill you first!”
She stepped back and almost slipped over the rim of the forge. An image burst into her head: Guptas, explaining why he had defended her from the creature in the tunnel. His words whispered again in her mind: I like you.
Her grip on the amulet tightened.
“I trust you,” she whispered. “Guptas, I trust you. Come forth and protect me.”
The demons screamed and lunged forward.
The flames roared up behind her.
She collapsed into Kyle’s arms.
And as they struggled to keep their balance on the edge of the inferno, Guptas, the son of Suleiman, returned to the flesh for the first time in ten thousand years.
21
THE HANDS OF THE KING
Marilyn lost her balance and pitched forward, dragging Kyle with her. They struck the floor and were immediately engulfed by a wave of attacking demons.
Shrieking, crying, clawing, the monsters piled on the two teenagers like sharks in a feeding frenzy.
Marilyn, barely conscious, was aware of their claws tearing at her skin. At the same time she sensed that the creatures were, by their very numbers, slowed in their intent to kill her and Kyle immediately.
The confusion bought them only a few seconds of life.
Those few seconds were enough. Beyond the babble of the demons, she could hear a deep-throated roar, a cry of rage tempered by a strange joy.
Then she felt the demons being pulled away from her, lifted and flung into the air like scraps of paper.
Guptas appeared above them, his face contorted with a fierce ecstasy.
“Ten thousand years!” he cried. “Ten thousand years, and finally free!”
He grabbed a demon in each hand and smashed their skulls together, then flung them forward into the forge.
The flames roared explosively, shot up, and scorched the ceiling as the cries of the dying demons filled the room.
Guptas’s tail swept behind him, knocking the demons off their feet.
“It was you!” he cried. “You! I listened to you, I helped you, and everything went wrong! Never again! Never again!”
He lashed out, his great arms sending the smaller demons flying to the right and left. Marilyn and Kyle edged away from the fray. Suddenly Zenobia was at their side.
“Over there,” she whispered, pointing to a fallen table. “You’ll be safer there.”
They scurried along the side of the forge and scrambled behind the table.
On the other side they could hear the battle raging. Unable to resist, they peered over the edge and cried out in despair.
Guptas, larger and stronger than any of the others, had had the advantage when he attacked them. But now their sheer numbers were working against him. They were attacking from all sides, climbing on his back, pulling at his legs, slashing at him with whatever weapons they could lay their hands on.
“Off!” he roared, tearing them from his body and sending them flying into the forge.
The flames were soaring, eagerly devouring every demon that landed in their midst.
“Guptas!”
The voice that rang out was strong and powerful. The fighting stopped. Marilyn cried out in horror and surprise.
It was the old demon—the one who had urged Guptas to give the signal for the rebellion in the Ha
ll of the Kings. Though cracked with age, his voice was powerful, commanding.
“Guptas, stop this foolishness. You are one of us. Destroy those meddling children. Then lead us back to the world. To the world. You are the greatest among us. You can be our king. Guptas, lead us to the world again!”
“Don’t listen to him,” whispered Marilyn. “Guptas, don’t listen to him!”
The old demon had locked eyes with Guptas. “Be our king,” he whispered. “Don’t be a fool. Don’t betray us. There is no place for you but with us, no friends for you but us, no hope for you but us. Destroy them, and take your place as our king!”
Guptas stood as if entranced.
“Guptas!” cried the demon nearest him. “Guptas the king!”
The others took up the chant. “Guptas the king! Guptas the king!”
“You were born to rule!” cried the old demon. “Your mother was a queen among demons. Your father was king of the Suleimans. There was never another like you. There was never another Guptas! You will be greater than any king that ever reigned. The world will be yours!”
“You see!” shrieked Cooley. “You see what will happen, you young fool? You’ve given him the world!”
“Eldred, shut up!” said Zenobia.
“King of the world,” whispered Guptas.
Marilyn dragged herself from behind the table. “Don’t listen to him,” she begged. “Guptas, don’t listen to him!” She staggered toward him. “Guptas, don’t betray me!”
The demon closest to her grabbed her about the waist. Snarling with fury, he dragged her toward the forge. His claws tore into her flesh.
“Guptas!” she screamed. “Save me!”
The demon had her at the rim. She could feel the heat and fury of the flames as her captor lifted her over the edge.
Kyle started for the forge and was immediately tackled by a dozen demons. He hit the floor with a bone-jarring crash.
“Guptas!” he cried desperately. “Fight for her!”
Marilyn beat at the scaly back of the demon clutching her. “Guptas!” she screamed. “Guptas, I need you!”
Her tears fell to the rim of the forge, sizzling instantly into steam. “Guptas!” She was weeping now as much for him as for herself. “Guptas, I trusted you! Fight for me!”
The demon who held her, small but powerful, raised her above his head. She clung to his hard arms, screaming in terror, as he tried to throw her into the flames.
Guptas began to roar. It started deep in his throat and came rumbling up like a volcano erupting, until his anger shook the very walls around them.
“Let her go!” he roared, at the same moment launching himself through the air to grab her from the demon’s arms. “Let … her … GO!”
He wrenched Marilyn free, tucked her safely under one arm, and with the other picked up the demon and threw it into the forge.
The flames roared gratefully.
“Back!” cried Guptas. “Back, all of you!”
“Destroy the traitor!” cried the old demon. “Guptas must die!”
With a cry of rage the demons surged forward. Guptas placed Marilyn behind him, against the wall of the forge, and stood to guard her against the onslaught. But their numbers were too great. Though demon after demon went sailing over his shoulder and into the flames, it seemed there were always more coming. Guptas was bleeding from a dozen places, and then a dozen more. His sizzling black blood etched its way into the floor.
He was staggering, weakening from the punishment.
And then, so suddenly it was a shock, the demons were gone.
All but one. The old demon who had urged Guptas into his first betrayal.
“Traitor!” hissed the demon. “Fool! What will you gain for this? Nothing!”
He spat in Guptas’s face.
Guptas reached forward.
“My grandfather,” he whispered. “Father of my mother, king of lies, agent of hate, maker of war. I have waited too long to kill you.”
“You never will,” sneered the old demon.
“You are wrong,” said Guptas simply. “The time has come for you to pay at last. It was all your fault, wasn’t it? Everything that happened from the moment you urged my mother to deceive the king. The lies, the betrayal, the destruction—all of it is on your shoulders.”
He reached forward. But his strength was gone. Arms spasming, he fell to the floor and lay there without moving.
“Guptas,” said the old demon, kicking at him, and Marilyn could hear a note of regret in his voice. “Guptas the Fool, who could have ruled the world.”
Raising his eyes, he glared at Marilyn. “You ruined it all,” he whispered bitterly. “I think it’s time for you to die.”
Marilyn pressed back against the rim of the forge. The old demon stepped over Guptas and took her by the neck. His claws began to sink into her skin.
“That’s enough,” said a voice behind them.
The demon turned around, then began to scream.
Marilyn looked up in astonishment.
Among the litter of demons, looking down at them, stood Suleiman, father of Guptas.
“Give me the amulet,” he said. His voice was quiet, strong, gentle, ancient, filled with sorrow. He extended his arm. Marilyn reached up and laid the amulet in his palm. It seemed oddly tiny in his great hand.
“No!” screamed the old demon. “Great king, do not do this. No! No! No!”
“Silence!” said Suleiman.
Closing his massive fingers over the amulet, he spoke softly, in some ancient language. A great crack of something like thunder reverberated through the chamber.
The old demon vanished.
Smoke curled from between the king’s fingers. He opened his hand, gazed at the amulet for a moment, then tossed it into the forge.
The explosion knocked Marilyn to her knees.
The flames returned to normal. By their flickering light she watched as the king knelt to gather his battered son into his arms.
Guptas stirred in his grasp. “Father,” he whispered.
“I should have loved you better,” said the king sadly as he cradled Guptas against his chest.
After a moment the king lifted his head to look at Marilyn. Tears shimmered at the corners of his eyes. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Without your trust, my son would have been doomed forever.”
He looked around the room and spotted Kyle, who was quietly trying to bear the agony of his many wounds.
“Tell your friend to come before me,” said Suleiman. The shadow of a smile flickered over his face. “And bring me your cat, as well.”
Mystified, Marilyn gestured to Kyle, who had forced himself to his knees.
“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t move.”
“I’ll help,” she said. “Just wait.”
She limped to the wall where Brick lay and lifted him gently from the floor. He was still breathing, but his body was badly broken. He opened one eye and tried to yowl in protest. The sound was pathetically weak.
“Poor baby,” whispered Marilyn. Cradling the cat gently in her arms, she went to Kyle. “Put your arm on my shoulder,” she said, kneeling beside him.
He struggled to his feet.
Together they crossed to the king.
Suleiman knelt and laid Guptas gently down beside him. “This much I can do for you,” he said softly to Marilyn. He took Brick from her arms and held the cat cupped in his enormous hands. He closed his eyes. Brick stiffened for a moment, yowled almost in anger, then sat up, blinking, absurdly small on the king’s palm.
He looked up, yowled this time in fright, and jumped back into Marilyn’s arms.
Suleiman smiled. “Now you,” he said to Kyle.
Kyle stepped forward. The king took him in his great arms. Like Brick, Kyle yelled out. And, like Brick, his wounds were healed. He touched himself in amazement. “Thank you,” he said awkwardly.
Suleiman held Marilyn and healed her, too; healed the burns, the slash of the ax, the brui
ses that covered her body. And, a little, he healed the wounds of her spirit, the fear that lingered within.
After he set her down, he gathered Guptas into his arms once more. The demon stirred, then opened his eyes. With an effort that was clearly painful, he reached out his hand to Marilyn.
She stepped forward and took it. The scaly flesh was warm and dry, surprisingly pleasant to the touch.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Marilyn squeezed his hand. “What will happen to him now?” she asked, looking up at the king.
“He will come to be with me.” Suleiman looked around the room. “As for you, you should all go home now. Some of you have a lot to learn,” he added, looking pointedly at Eldred Cooley.
“I’d love to go home,” said Marilyn. “But how do we get there without Guptas?”
The king looked at her in astonishment. “What do you have a cat for?” he asked.
And then he was gone, taking his son with him.
Epilogue
Marilyn sat between Kyle and Alicia at the funeral home, listening to the preacher talk about Zenobia. She looked around. She still couldn’t believe she and Kyle were in one piece, much less that they had managed to get this place back in shape in time to get out while it was still dark last night.
Getting Zenobia’s body back into her coffin had been the worst part, of course. Once they had managed that, Marilyn had tried to arrange the flowers so no one would notice that the amulet was missing.
Marilyn looked up and suppressed a smile. Zenobia was sitting on the end of her coffin, looking at the minister as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
“They always spout such nonsense,” she had said to Marilyn on the way home last night. “I can’t wait to hear what he has to say about me.”
Now, seeing that Marilyn was looking at her, Zenobia mouthed a single word: “Baloney!”
Marilyn snorted, then tried to turn the sound into a sob.
Alicia dug her in the ribs. Kyle squeezed her hand.
They all stood for the hymn.
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