The blast was huge, loud and bright. The assembled peoples and creatures dived for cover as the shockwave passed over them, blowing out what remained of the temple’s walls. Marcus remained where he was, shielding his eyes, watching Keithus, who stood at the heart of it, staff still pointed at the spot where Rashalamn had been, of whom there now remained only a faint scorch mark on the ground, and the echo in Marcus’s head of another life leaving the world. He groaned as the orcs went wild and turned on each other, Keithus’s control over them shattered by an excess of magical detritus. The wizard himself began laughing madly as chaos broke out all around him. I have to reach him, Marcus decided, and set out into the brawl.
Before he’d taken two steps, however, the dust that hung in the air before him began to move, caught in a vortex that twisted the air around him. Marcus held his scythe at the ready as the fold in the sky turned into a glimpse of blackness, and then blossomed into a full-length cloak as Death stepped out, sword in hand and supernovas alight in his eyes.
“Good evening,” the Reaper said with salacious pleasure. “Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. What did I tell you about hanging out near people who were dying? Not that you have much of a choice at the moment. Natural disasters, unexplained explosions and people dissolving into salt all over two worlds! I’ve never been so busy. How have you been?”
“No!” Marcus yelled, pounding his scythe against the ground. “No, no, no, no! Why now? Why are you here now? You saw me earlier! Why wait until now?!”
“Hey, I was busy. Unlike you, I take the responsibilities of this job very seriously, and there have been a lot of deaths all over everywhere in the last couple of hours. But right now, everything is.. at a lull. It’s as if both worlds are waiting for something. Spooky, huh? So yeah, I had a free moment, and when someone managed to die regardless, I knew you’d have to be nearby.”
“Keithus killed Rashalamn,” Marcus said. “Not me.”
“I don’t care,” Death said cheerfully. “You’re here now, and there’s nowhere to escape to. The best part is, that’s actually true for once.” The sword came around impossibly fast, but Marcus got the scythe up to deflect it. Death, unfazed, came back around for another hit, and another, pushing Marcus backwards under the strength of his assault. He backed up against a shattered pillar that had once been part of the temple’s wall, desperately attempting to block Death’s attacks, aware that he no longer had enough room to manoeuvre the scythe. It seemed almost tragic that, after everything, he had returned to Earth, where he’d narrowly avoided dying, just so that he could be killed.
Suddenly, Kendra was there, slipping around Death’s sword in order to get entangled in his legs and trip him. The skeletal figure fell to the ground, rolled over, and was back on his feet so fast that it might never have happened. The brief reprieve, however, gave Marcus time to move aside into some space, and so attack Death again. Kendra flashed him a thumbs up and stepped back out of the way as a nearby orc decided to try her for size, and Marcus swung the scythe overhead. Death held his sword up at an angle, and the two blades clashed, locking against each other in a shower of sparks.
“Death,” Marcus said, as they stood pushing against each other, neither willing to give any ground, “listen to me. We don’t have the time for this. Look over there – just look around. If we don’t do something, the whole world is going to end. Really. Can we do this later?”
Death gave Marcus a blank look, something he was very good at. “No. You’ve had more than enough laters. Marcus Chiallion dies right here.” He pushed harder against their locked blades, and they slid apart, slicing wide of each other and stepping back to regroup. They began to circle.
“You really enjoy your job, don’t you?” Marcus asked.
“I take great pleasure in my work,” Death said. “The pay is good, there’s always a market for it, and I get to meet lots of interesting people. The holidays are also quite generous.” He struck forwards again, but Marcus was ready. With a sigh and little hope for what he was about to attempt, he stepped to the side, bought up the wood of the staff to knock aside Death’s sword, and spun the blade into the Reaper’s form. He’d been expecting to fall straight through again, and was therefore highly surprised when the blade tore through the cloth of Death’s robe and impacted bone.
“Ouch,” Death said absently, raising a hand to his side. Against all reason, it came away covered in blood. Both Marcus and Death stared confusedly at it for a moment, before their gazes rose to meet each other, and they each took a step back. Fighting continued, and the sounds of Keithus’s shrill laughter still echoed around, but for them, time slowed and nothing else mattered.
“What did I do?” Marcus asked amazedly, as Death sagged to the floor.
“There’s too much of me in you,” the Reaper said, stupefied. “You know that my scythe has the power of death, just as I do. Except now, it’s in you, too, and it’s been building up all this time.. Damn. I really should have seen that coming.” Somehow, Death spat, and the spit was red with blood.
“What happens now?”
“It seems I die,” Death said, “something which I would not have thought possible. But, because of all this, you’ve got more of my power than I do; you are the new Death. Oh, irony..”
“But I don’t want to be Death!” Marcus said, panicking. “That’s your job!”
“Too late now,” Death said dreamily. “My power is yours.”
“Can’t I give it back to you? Here, take the scythe!”
Death peered up at Marcus curiously. “But you’ve won, Marcus. Triumphed.. over Death. You didn’t want to die, and now you’ll.. never have to. What more could you wish for?”
“I don’t want to live forever,” Marcus said sadly. “I just wanted to have a life worth living.”
“Well, now you will,” Death said, quietly, weakly. “Enjoy it.. it is a good job..”
“No,” Marcus said, and threw down the scythe. “I don’t want it. I’d only mess it up. You can’t expect a human to have power over life and death. I’m not impartial. Take it back.”
Death stared up at him, his expression unreadable. “You have to hand it back.. to me.”
Marcus picked the scythe up again, and knelt down to hand it over, but then hesitated. “Are you just going to kill me if I give this back to you?”
“Maybe,” Death said, the lights in his eye sockets blinking on and off rapidly.
“That won’t change anything,” Marcus said. “The world is still ending around us.” He looked around, but the brawling that was happening in the vicinity seemed slowed, and unnatural, as if it was being seen through some sort of filter, and all sound had faded away. “Look, you need a life, right? To fill the hole in your book?”
“..Yes,” Death said.
“Well, you could take my life, and then shortly afterwards the universe would end, like I said before. Do you want that?”
Death laughed weakly. “It is my final job.. to turn out the lights, close.. the door at the end of the universe. When it comes.. Death must be ready. Better hurry up with the scythe.. else you’ll be the one doing.. it.”
“Listen,” Marcus said urgently. “The universe doesn’t have to end now. You enjoy your job, you want to keep doing it, right? Well, don’t take my life. You need a life to meet your quota, take his.” Without taking his eyes from Death’s Marcus pointed to where he knew Keithus was still stood, laughing himself silly as the world ended around him. “He’s the reason why this is happening. Keithus upset the balance between worlds. Kill him, and it stops. You get to go on doing what you love.”
“I don’t know..” Death said. “I’d much rather.. kill you.”
“Give me your word that you won’t, or I’ll let you die,” Marcus said flatly. Maybe immortality wouldn’t be so bad. If he did tire of it, he could just lend someone his scythe and let them kill him in turn.. Maybe he could age normally. Maybe he’d find something to do with all that time whilst watching
the friends he’d made wither and die.. No, he thought. This is a bluff. I can’t do it.
Death watched him for a moment longer, and Marcus wondered exactly how well Death knew him, and if the Reaper might be able to follow his thought processes..
“Deal,” Death said. “Congratulations, Marcus. You have defied Death.”
Marcus sighed with relief. Kneeling next to the Reaper, he held out the scythe ceremoniously, balanced on the palms of his hands. Death reached out, skeletal hand shaking with the effort, and his fingers closed around its length. Marcus closed his eyes as he felt a great weight, a sense of flickering, malevolent darkness, leave him, running down his arms and out of his fingertips, returning to the weapon from which it had come. But with it went also that sense of life that had danced in the back of his mind, that sheer thrill of existence that sang in his head. It told him of lives being led, of time yet to be filled, of futures yet to be written among the eager, patient buds of a Mirrorworld spring that had waited in this wizard’s winter for so long, not daring to bloom until this tale was told. For that part alone, Marcus almost wished it would not go, but he knew that he could not have the one without the other, and this was a fate he had refused to take. So he let it go, let the life and death drain from him until only his own remained, and contented himself to know that while his time as Death was ending, the memory of light would remain.
Opposite him, Death grew taller and darker as his power returned to him, his cloak pulling itself back together where it had torn, flaring dramatically in the heavy wind as the Reaper stood once more. YES, Death said, and his voice was heavier and more imposing that ever before. WHOLE AGAIN. SWEET POWER, I HAD FORGOTTEN. He threw his scythe down before Marcus, who had fallen backwards, reeling from the sensation of lightness and normality that now pervaded his mind. THE SCYTHE IS YOURS, MARCUS, FOR THE FAVOUR YOU HAVE DONE ME. I HAVE ABSORBED ITS POWER. IT IS A MERE, NORMAL, HUMAN WEAPON NOW. I WILL CRAFT MYSELF ANOTHER, IN TIME. NOW GO, FIND YOUR WIZARD. I WILL BE THERE. Death vanished in a whirl of darkness, and light returned to the world, the filter that had descended around them fading away, the strange silence being replaced with the sounds of fighting and laughter once more.
33
Marcus found Kendra leaning back against a fallen pillar by the entrance, her head back, taking in the rain that was now falling all around. Orcs continued to fight each other nearby, the shattering of their common allegiances replaced by resurgent decades of tribal rivalries. The storm overhead was still building; for now, the rain was only light, but Marcus could feel that something was coming; a final blow for the Earth, perhaps. Maybe the Mirrorworld had already suffered one. No.. for now, everything was still hanging in there, and if he was quick enough, maybe this could end well after all.
“I can’t keep fighting,” Kendra said wearily as he crouched down next to her. “You have no idea how bad my side hurts. My ribs have been replaced with crocodiles eating me from the inside. How are you doing? How’s Death? He looked happy.”
“He’s fine.” Marcus said. “I need you, Kendra. One last push. If we can get to the wizard, we can end this. Death and I.. we came to an arrangement. He’s going to take Keithus, but he said I had to get there first. We have to get through this battleground. Where are the others?”
“Eira stayed back with Fervesce.. he’s exhausted too. She’s helping him hold the portal.”
“And I am here,” Eustace said, popping up from behind the pillar. “Observing.”
“Oh yes?” Marcus asked tiredly. “What have you observed so far?”
“That basically, we’re all doomed. I hope that this last ditch plan of yours works.”
“Me too,” Marcus said. “Will you help?”
“What can I do?” Eustace said with a shrug. “I’m just an old man.”
“What about everyone else who came through? The other Viaggiatori?”
Eustace laughed bitterly. “You may have missed this with your running off ahead of time, Marcus, but we don’t exactly have a large following. Most folks, even those who said they’d stay.. well, as soon as we’d entered the Mirrorline they must have turned tail and run, because there ain’t nobody else here outside of us and a few schmucks.”
“Not true, old man,” said a new voice, and a shadow fell across them. They looked up to see the silhouette of Musk, outlined dramatically against the collapsing sky as he struck a pose. “They just went to get some help. You thought you’d get to have a finale before I got here? Get ‘em, boys!”
At his command, a group of people charged past him, ascending the large steps and diving into the battle. The orcs reeled in surprise as this new party joined the fray, pushing them aside.
“Nice timing, Musk,” Marcus said, standing and shaking the man’s hand. “Who are these guys?”
“Mostly soldiers. We met them coming towards us on our way towards the river, pretty much everyone who was left in the barracks on the south side. Other than that there’s a bunch of Viaggiatori, and I guess a few people who just got swept up in the rush. Kimberlite wanted to come, and bring trolls, but I told her that would only make things worse, so she’s sulking back in Portruss.”
“I don’t believe this,” Eustace said. “Where the hell did you pop up from?”
“Came through the gate that Fervesce left open for us. Eira says ‘kill the bastard’, by the way. Now, Marcus, isn’t there something you should be doing, other than grinning like an idiot?”
“Oh yes,” Marcus said, turning back to the fight. Musk’s reinforcements had beaten clear a path through the centre of the fray, towards the temple steps where Keithus sat, observing what was happening around him with the detached air of the very much insane. Marcus took a step forward, then turned back to Musk. “Look after her,” he said, nodding at Kendra, who rolled her eyes.
“We’ll be fine,” Musk said, urgently. “Go!”
“Come back after, too,” Kendra added quietly.
“I will,” Marcus said meaningfully. “You still owe me a tour of Plumm’s flashy lights district.”
She blew him a kiss.
With that, Marcus turned back and ran through the crowd, dodging past the odd flailing blade or falling foe, and bound up the small staircase. He swung the scythe towards Keithus, and suddenly felt his body lock up as the wizard raised a palm in his direction. Damn magic! Damn Death, for turning the scythe into nothing more than a blade on a stick at the worst possible moment.
“I’m forced to conclude,” Keithus said, his voice brittle, “that you were right. Odd, really, how success gives such horrible clarity. I was expecting to feel something, when the old man died. Like it was the missing piece, the final move, that it would stop all this..” he gestured around, “thisness. But instead it’s just made me feel kind of loopy, and it’s all still happening. I don’t understand!” he added suddenly, in a strangely different, high-pitched voice, and blinked. “No. I don’t. But I do. Why has it not come good? Be quiet!” He stood slowly, and turned to look straight at Marcus. Marcus saw the tempest of colour that was raging in the wizard’s unseeing eyes, and was terrified.
“It was all I wanted,” Keithus continued. “I saw it so perfectly, in my mind. I showed it as it should have been! Yes, I know! But look! They were right! This isn’t what I wanted! This isn’t what I gave you! I have the power.. to make anything a reality.. but this.. why doesn’t it work?” Keithus focused on Marcus properly, and asked again, in that strange, high voice, “why doesn’t it work?”
Marcus couldn’t answer: he couldn’t move at all. But, he could see behind Keithus, where the dust was whirling again, and within a moment Death had stepped out from the space between worlds, and swung his sword straight through the wizard. Instead of the splatter of blood that Marcus had expected, the sword swung right through, and Keithus.. split. One moment he was there, and the next there were two of him, flickering side by side. The spell holding Marcus vanished, and he fell heavily to the ground, looking up in tim
e to see the twin images drag themselves back into one.
“That tickled,” Keithus said, but it definitely wasn’t his voice talking any more. He turned to Death, who appeared as surprised as Marcus by this turn of events. “Why did you do that?”
YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT, Death said.
“You tried to kill me,” Keithus said, accusingly. “Why would you do that?”
IN ENDEAVOUR TO SUCCEED, OF COURSE, Death said. BUT THAT IS NOT THE QUESTION. He leant in close, matching the shadows of his supernovas against the coloured swirls of the wizard’s eyes. YOU ARE NAUGHT BUT PART OF THIS MORTAL REALM, WIZARD. YOU ARE BOUND BY THE RULES OF FINITE EXISTENCE THAT I ENFORCE, YET HERE YOU STAND, AFTER MY BLADE. THERE IS SOMETHING ELSE, HERE. WHAT LIES INSIDE YOUR HEAD?
Keithus held Death’s gaze, and his mouth slowly quirked up into an unnatural smile. “Mortal?” Hijacked lips issued forth another dark giggle. “Mortal, you say? Finite? What kinds of words are these? Hurtful. Is that all you see when you look at me? This little part of me, so tenuously connected to life, is just but the littlest part of me! Look at me! I am so big, grown so tall! I am not your slurs. I am.. ideas, and ideas go on forever! Power, in form, where all of my emotions and magic come together to create.. me. I am yet a wizard, but so much more!” Ranting was interrupted briefly by uncontrollable laughter. “I have become mighty, in this mind, grown strong enough to hear the call of so many voices, crying out for things that cannot be – well, now, they can! I can reach, out, and make spirits of the night come true! I am.. Dream!”
Mirrorworld Page 43
