But he was Karybdus, and so he knew that he would accomplish it … no matter what sacrifices—such as Zayl, Lord Jitan, and the innocents in Westmarch—had to be made along the way.
The wendigo had carried Salene through the forest at a dizzying pace, the furred giant able to avoid tree limbs and ravines with utter ease even with the human cradled in his arms. When the forest had given way to the high hills, he had proven just as capable, scurrying up rock and avoiding several of Aldric’s monstrous servants, whose locations the wendigo seemed to know in advance.
Salene could still make no sense of the vision that she had experienced prior to the wendigo’s startling return. The noblewoman could only imagine that her exhaustion, coupled with her risky use of magic, had combined to addle her senses for a moment. Besides, of a far more important concern was finding Zayl before it was too late.
Which seemed exactly what the forest dweller wanted, too. Unable to make sense of his grunts, Salene finally assumed that somehow the necromancer had communicated with the wendigo and showed the beast how to find her. That was the only explanation for his being in the right place at the right time.
It gave her hope … not much, but some.
But now, as they neared the place where she had almost been sacrificed, Salene’s fears magnified. In addition to sighting several of Lord Jitan’s mutated servants, there were also about half a dozen men … if one could call them that anymore. They strode around as if sleepwalking and each wore some odd headpiece. Their expressions, to the extent that she could make them out in the light emanating from within, seemed slack, lifeless.
Worst of all, she recognized them as some of Alec Mattheus’s men, the ones who had followed the captain in pursuit of the necromancer.
And the fact that they were here and clearly under the control of Zayl’s adversaries could only make her assume that Zayl himself was now a prisoner. Even Salene could sense the ghastly forces emanating from the ancient ruins, forces which, had he been free, the Rathmian would have surely put an end to by now.
“He’s in there, isn’t he?” she whispered to the wendigo. “They have him, don’t they?”
The creature’s low grunt was unintelligible, but somehow his tone made the noblewoman think that she had guessed correctly.
Nothing good could come of Zayl’s being a prisoner of Jitan and the other necromancer. Salene determined to rescue him, if nothing else. Somehow, if she managed to free Zayl, surely he would come up with a way to defeat the madmen.
But the only thing Salene could think to do was to go charging in the front. The wendigo had shown her where a tunnel led in through the back, but it was well-guarded by the man-spiders and seemed a path less likely to success than the main opening.
She would have liked to have gotten a better look at the front entryway, but for some unknown reason, her gargantuan companion would not let her stray any closer. It was as if he sensed something that she did not.
Thinking of all she had done with and without the medallion, Salene chose her best options. What she would do upon entering was clear; reaching that point was another matter.
“If we could only draw them away …” But there were far more guards than ever and, when she squinted, Salene thought that she even saw spiders crawling over the hill. So many spiders that she could not believe it.
That made her think of what was happening in Westmarch. She suddenly glanced at the wendigo again, wondering how the two of them had managed to avoid the vast swarm. The vision of the robed, winged figure once more came to mind, but it hardly seemed compatible with what stood next to her.
She shook off such mysteries. The Moon of the Spider hung high overhead. Salene sensed that soon it would vanish and that when it did, all would be lost.
Staring at the terrifying guardians, she whispered, “I think I know how I might be able to get some of them to move, but—”
Only then did Salene discover that she suddenly spoke only to empty air. How had such a giant left her side without her noticing? She looked around, fearful that something had befallen the forest dweller …
But in the next breath, there was a powerful roar and a crashing sound—then a muffled hiss that Salene recognized as one of the monstrous sentries dying violently.
Immediately, most of Aldric’s servants surged forward as a single pack. The soldiers and the spiders followed suit. A few stayed where they were, but now Salene had hope. If she could repeat what she had done in the throne room …
“Please …,” she prayed, not quite knowing to whom. “Let this work.”
Salene focused on an area near the entrance, one momentarily devoid of guards.
Suddenly, she stood at the very spot.
One of the remaining monsters started to turn in her direction. Salene focused on what she could recall of the interior, choosing a location near the inner entrance. She hoped that choosing such an out-of-the-way place would keep her from being immediately discovered.
She vanished from the first location, just missed by the sentinel.
And materialized a second later into a nightmare.
Zayl, it appeared, was about to be eaten.
His will was failing. Zayl knew that he had but seconds left before his defenses crumbled and Astrogha was able to take everything. After that, it would require only a few short minutes for the demon to finally fully manifest.
If he still had his dagger, it would have been different. So closely bound already to the spider, Zayl could have used the dagger to better effect against Astrogha’s powers.
But he did not have his dagger.
Karybdus did.
Karybdus heard the howl. He focused, seeking the cause. At the very edge of his perception, he sensed the wendigo. The Rathmian found it curious that the beast would be just there, where he was barely noticeable. Karybdus did not believe in coincidence. Something was up.
A moment later, he sensed the presence of another … one familiar to him.
The woman. The Lady Salene Nesardo.
His bland expression hiding his surprise, Karybdus whirled in the direction he knew the woman had to be. Yet, when he looked, she was not there. Instead, the necromancer sensed her to his right.
Yet, the noblewoman was not there, either.
Karybdus’s brow furrowed as he suddenly realized what was happening.
But understanding came too late, as a bolt of fire struck him in the chest, sending the armored spellcaster hurtling into the wall behind.
Shaking, Salene stared at the black-clad villain, praying that he would not immediately rise. When Karybdus did indeed stay prone, she turned back to the terrifying spectacle.
Sardak’s mutilated body lay nearby, the horrible things done to it nearly causing his sister to vomit. She immediately understood that they had used his blood—even poisoned—as they would have hers.
But even worse to her than that was what was happening to Zayl. He still lived, but now lay all but totally bundled up in a large sac, out of the top of which his head and skeletal hand partially thrust.
And atop his head, a monstrous spider so hideous that it could not have been born in the mortal world continued to spit webbing from its mouth as its legs held the necromancer’s skull pinned.
The spider’s eyes glittered, and she was certain that it registered her presence. Nevertheless, it did nothing but continue to confidently spin its webbing over its victim. It acted as if it had no worry concerning the newcomer.
The noblewoman quickly found out why. Movement above barely warned Salene of attack. She pointed up and just managed to catch one of Aldric’s servants as it attempted to drop on her.
As it landed in a fiery heap near her, the Lady Nesardo wondered just where the treacherous noble was. Her answer came a moment later as she looked past Zayl. One glance at what remained of Aldric was all that Salene needed to understand that she could hesitate no longer.
Worse, from within and without, more of the mutated servants began converging on her location
. Now she understood why the beast atop Zayl had not been concerned—it had apparently summoned them. The others were wary of her, especially having seen how she had dealt with Karybdus, but their numbers would soon give them the courage they needed to attack. In the meantime, they bought the larger spider the time it required for its insidious work.
Salene eyed Zayl. All her most successful spells so far had had to do with either teleporting her or unleashing fire, neither of which helped the necromancer. She doubted that she could destroy the spider without killing Zayl as well, but if she did nothing—
“Lass!” called a welcome, familiar voice. “My lady!” shouted Humbart from somewhere. “Over to the side here!”
Hissing, two of the servants leapt at her. Instead of throwing fire at them, Salene instinctively shifted position. She ended up near Humbart’s torn pouch while the two monstrosities tumbled in a confused heap. The others hesitated, not certain how to adjust to this new challenge.
“Good lass!” the skull commended. “Neat trick, that!”
“Never mind! Is there anything I can do for Zayl?”
“Only one thing! Give him his dagger back! It’ll help him! I promise!”
She quickly looked around. “But where is it?”
“That damned Karybdus has it! In his belt! I saw it!”
Eyeing the still form, Salene hesitated. “His belt?”
“’Tis the best, possibly only chance!”
That was all Salene needed to hear. She took one last glance at Karybdus, assuring herself that if he was not dead, he was certainly unconscious.
A moment’s thought and she stood next to the deadly necromancer. With a glimpse around her to make certain that none of the creatures was near, she bent to Karybdus’s side and pushed away his cloak.
There! Salene drew the ivory dagger from his belt—
And, at that moment, Karybdus opened his eyes.
“No,” he murmured. “I think not.”
His gloved hand seized her wrist. Salene tried to transport away … but nothing happened. She attempted a bolt of flame, with a similar lack of results.
“I have sized up both your abilities,” Karybdus explained, as if speaking to an apprentice being tested. “And have compensated for them. There is nothing you can do.”
Salene took a desperate swing at him with Zayl’s dagger. He deftly caught her other wrist.
“Nothing,” he repeated. “Absolutely nothing.”
TWENTY-TWO
Salene struggled to free herself, but the necromancer’s grip proved unbreakable. She avoided his direct gaze, aware what it could do. Even then, Salene knew that, sooner or later, Karybdus would either drain her strength from her as he had done once before or use some other diabolical spell to put an end to her.
She eyed Zayl’s dagger. If she had at least been able to give it to him, her sacrifice would have been worth something. Humbart had said that, with it, Zayl would have had a fighting chance.
If somehow she could achieve that—
An invisible force tore the dagger from her hand. At first, she thought it the work of Karybdus, but an angry grunt from her foe told her that it was not so.
The dagger fluttered above, as if waiting. Salene stared at it, wishing that it would somehow return to Zayl.
No sooner had she thought this than the ivory blade darted toward the younger necromancer.
It was her will that guided it, Salene realized. She was the one making it fly to Zayl.
“No!” Karybdus tried to shift her so that the Lady Nesardo would be forced to look into his eyes. Salene struggled to maintain a general view of where Zayl lay.
Without warning, a huge form burst into the chamber. The wendigo, bleeding everywhere and with one arm hanging uselessly, dragged in with him seven servants clinging to his body. Each step clearly took extreme effort, but the forest dweller did not stop. When one of those atop him moved too near his good hand, he quickly grabbed it by the head and simply crushed its skull.
His presence drew the other servants from Salene. Seeing the giant as the most immediate danger to their master, they fell upon the wendigo with abandon.
Karybdus’s attention was also momentarily caught by the wendigo’s stunning arrival, and that proved all that Salene needed. Pulling up slightly, she fixed on Zayl’s protruding hand.
The dagger slid down between the webbing, fitting perfectly into the skeletal grip.
Salene felt Karybdus’s hand release her wrist. But before she could react, his fingers tightened around her throat.
“You are endangering the Balance,” he told her, only a slight inflection in his words indicating his tremendous anger. “There is no greater crime. You will be punished…”
Zayl felt numb all over. His mind could barely focus, yet his will still struggled to keep from allowing Astrogha inside.
Then, a wonderful and familiar warmth touched the hand that could feel it least. The necromancer’s bony fingers tightened around something lying in the fleshless palm.
And, instantly, Zayl’s hopes revived.
The words came instinctively, words in the special tongue taught by Trag’Oul to Rathma centuries before.
Words which caused the ivory dagger he now held to flare bright and powerful.
Zayl felt the spider’s sudden revulsion. As best he could, the trapped spellcaster twisted the dagger to wherever he sensed Astrogha to be.
One leg pulled away from his skull. The pressure on the Rathmian’s mind decreased accordingly. Encouraged, Zayl turned the blade back and forth. More legs withdrew and strands of webbing fell away as if air.
Better able to move his head and arm, Zayl struggled to free himself from the hideous sac. His head suddenly pounded and he realized that Astrogha was desperately trying to overwhelm him.
I deny you! he told the demon. Slay me, but you will never have me!
The pressure vanished. Zayl hesitated, strongly suspecting that it was a trick.
The spider dropped from his head.
Even as he silently rejoiced at his harrowing escape, the necromancer grew concerned over what Astrogha now planned. Time was rapidly running out for the demon to achieve his rebirth. Astrogha had to have something else in mind to give up on Zayl.
Bearing that in mind, Zayl furiously cut away at the thick webbing. Each moment, he expected Astrogha or one of Astrogha’s servants to attack, but none did. And where was Karybdus in all this? Surely his rival would not permit him to so easily escape.
As he cleared away the webbing, though, Zayl at last noticed other sounds, unnerving sounds. He heard a pained roar that could have only come from the wendigo, who had somehow returned. There were the manic hisses of the transformed servants, the man-spiders obviously flinging themselves on the forest dweller. The necromancer even heard Humbart’s frantic voice … calling to him.
“Zayl! Zayl, lad! He’s got her, that bastard has! Karybdus! And he’s—sweet mother! Get away from there quick, lad! It’s swelling!”
The last referred to something near Zayl, something he was just noticing himself. He sensed Astrogha using the weakened boundaries between the planes to draw the power he needed to re-create his true self.
But what did the demon use for a body?
Zayl had only to look up to see. Astrogha had returned to Lord Jitan’s remains, seizing them before they could grow too cold to use. The spider had covered much of the body with his webbing and already some horrific transformation had begun, for within, the noble’s corpse had grown more massive than any mortal human’s could ever be. Already it rivaled even a wendigo’s, and it continued to swell.
Zayl muttered a spell and cast the dagger. It flew unerringly at the huge white sac—only to bounce off as if it had hit steel.
As the blade returned, a mournful cry snared his attention from the seemingly invulnerable demon. With a full score of attackers upon him, the powerful wendigo had finally been overwhelmed. The brave creature dropped to his knees. He managed to batter another of
his adversaries into pulp, then, with a defiant groan, fell facedown onto the stone floor.
Zayl gestured. The Teeth of Trag’Oul materialized in force and, driven by his masked rage, pincushioned the creatures atop the wendigo. The Children of Astrogha perished as one, living only but a breath or two longer than their valiant opponent.
But there were still others, and worse, he saw Karybdus and Salene struggling near the far wall. There were forces gathering around the other Rathmian. They were forces which Zayl recognized as the formation of a most terrible spell…a spell which Karybdus planned to focus upon the Lady Nesardo.
Gritting his teeth, Zayl looked to the dead wendigo and began muttering the words. He would not let Karybdus harm Salene or anyone else ever again.
The words were simply spoken, but the effort drained Zayl as even his struggle against Astrogha had not. Yet, as he watched the mists swirl above the giant’s corpse, he felt darkly satisfied.
“Karybdus!” Zayl roared. “Karybdus! As you seem to no longer make use of your soul, I see no reason why you should even carry it with you anymore!”
As he hoped, his counterpart could not help but look his way, disrupting Karybdus’s own spell at the same time.
Above the wendigo, a skeletal form—a bone spirit—with a vague resemblance to the furred giant rose high up in the air on wings of ether. In many ways, it resembled the crypt fiend that had attacked Zayl, but it was so much more.
With a vengeful howl, it flew toward Karybdus.
The other Rathmian’s reflexes were swift, but even Karybdus could not move out of the way in time. Instead, he forced Salene in front of him just as the bone spirit reached the pair.
But, unlike the crypt fiend, the thing that Zayl had called up did not attack so indiscriminately. Those Zayl desired protected had nothing to fear from it. Salene was perfectly safe, even used in so base a manner as her captor just had.
Karybdus, however, was not protected. In less than the blink of an eye, the revenant darted around the Lady Nesardo. The armored necromancer did not even have time to gape as the bone spirit thrust its skeletal claws through his chest—
Diablo: Moon of the Spider Page 30
