World of Mazes cr-3

by Неизвестный

  " It' s unbreakable. Watch." Silvain took out his death tube and pointed it directly at the creature. A lance of fire gushed forth and slithered along the flat surface. " Examine the maze wall," the man ordered.

  Inyx touched the spot where the heat had been most intense. Not even a blister marred the surface. Inside, the homunculus shook with silent tears.

  " The Lord enjoys constructing these mazes," said Silvain. " He is most adept at it. The laws of the outer world are suspended inside. That was once:"

  " The former Lord of the Twistings," came a high- pitched, almost feminine voice. The giggles that followed turned into a twittering that made Inyx very uneasy.

  She faced the newcomer. The voice sounded twelve, the body looked four times that. Dressed in a jester' s outfit, the Lord pranced about, posturing and doing small tumbling routines for her amusement. She wasn' t amused. Inyx thought this was some trick that Silvain played on her. This fool couldn' t be the ruler of most of this planet. She started to speak when she saw the expression on Alberto Silvain' s face.

  That tiny corner he reserved for fear unravelled into a large spot. He feared the Lord of the Twistings. Mixed in with it came a large portion of disgust, also. That emotion Inyx shared with Claybore' s commandant. To lock up any creature in the glass maze seemed unnecessarily cruel.

  " You like my tiny mazes? You should see my big one."

  " The Twistings?" she guessed.

  " Oh," cried the Lord, clapping his hands, " I was so right in having Alberto bring you here. You are bright. Most of the people I see are stupid."

  " Why don' t you let out the:" Inyx turned and indicated the homunculus in the maze. It had already moved on, feeling its way around unseen walls, seeking an exit.

  " Let out my predecessor? Oh, no, good lady, that would be silly. It took a great deal of magic to reduce him to that size. Once he was released, I couldn' t watch him blunder around in my maze. Besides, he treated me shabbily when I first arrived in Dicca."

  She stared at the man. He had a small spot going bald on the top of his head. The light brown hair had been frosted through with grey and lay back straight from his high domed forehead. Chocolate- colored eyes darted and danced with mischief, the eyes of a small child. In stature, the Lord of the Twistings proved average in every way: height, weight, strength. There seemed little extraordinary about him. Except for one thing.

  Alberto Silvain feared him.

  That puzzled Inyx more and more. Silvain did not frighten easily. She' d seen his type on any number of worlds. They followed their beliefs to the death, never compromising. In a way, their deaths provided more cenotaphs than any other. They died nobly and usually in some fashion where their handsome bodies weren' t recovered.

  And Silvain feared the Lord of the Twistings. Why?

  " I have many, many more intricate mazes about. Come and look at them."

  " That' s not a suggestion, is it?" she asked. Silvain shook his head. She felt his strong hand in the small of her back, urging her forward. This brief pressure gave her the opening she' d sought since being rescued from Luister len- Larrotti' s Fine Rooms. Inyx moved, turned, caught Silvain' s wrist, and jerked hard. The man cartwheeled in midair, to smash hard into the marble floor. A whooshing noise told her the wind had been knocked from his lungs by the sudden fall. Inyx scooped up the death tube from his belt and stepped back. She pointed it directly at the Lord of the Twistings.

  " Oh, what is this?" he asked in a small voice. " She threatens me. Oh, this is rich. It is, it is!"

  " No threats. I wanted to warn you about Silvain- and Claybore."

  " I know all about them," he said, his eyes sparkling.

  " Then you know they' re out to depose you."

  " No, no," he said, laughing so hard he had to hold his sides. Bells rattled and the metallic stars on the sleeves of his yellow and red outfit reflected back all the colors of the rainbow as he shook. " You have it all wrong. I use them. They do my every bidding. Without me- and what I possess- they are nothing. Nothing!" He started laughing again.

  Inyx frowned. This dolt thought he manipulated Claybore. From what she' d seen of the sorcerer, that wasn' t very likely. Still, Silvain hadn' t shown only contempt for this odd ruler of Dicca.

  " Do put away that silly toy. I have ever so many more interesting ones."

  " Sorry, Lord, but this is where I leave you. Play with Alberto, if you have to have another victim for your mazes."

  " No, I want you, good lady. You' re different from the others. There' s a vitality that won' t let you stop till you' ve worked through my most intricate mazes."

  " I' m going," she said firmly. Inyx knew how to deal with children, even ones old enough to have grandchildren.

  " No."

  Inyx reacted quickly but still moved seconds too late. A thick plate rose between her and the Lord of the Twistings. She spun and tried to run. She smashed headlong into another barrier. In all directions she met resistance. Clinging to the cylinder she' d taken from Silvain, she sought the grey- clad soldier. At least his death might be fact. That' d slow down Claybore' s conquest a little.

  Alberto Silvain struggled to sit up- outside the glass barrier.

  She fired. Inyx- felt heat billowing up from the point of contact between lambent energy and transparent surface. She stopped firing and examined the wall. It hadn' t been marked. Outside, the Lord of the Twistings helped Silvain to his feet. All the while, the Lord cackled like a rooster and bounced up and down like a child waiting for the spring fairs.

  " Isn' t this wonderful?" he chuckled, moving close enough to press his face against the wall. His nose flattened and his cheek turned white, transforming him into a grotesquery. She hammered futilely at the wall. The Lord pulled back, a big smile crossing his face. " You have one hour to escape my maze. One whole hour, because this one is my finest, my favorite, my best- my worst!"

  Inyx whirled and saw the beast slithering up toward her. Tentacles waved in the air, tentacles laden with needle- sharp spines. It wobbled and squished forward. She fired the tube. The creature vanished as if it had never been there. And it hadn' t. It was only illusion.

  Inyx heaved a sigh of relief. She faced images.

  " They aren' t all illusion," came the Lord' s soft voice. " No, not at all!"

  She began working along the outer wall, turning sharp corners until she was positive she had circled back to her starting point. She hadn' t. The dark- haired woman felt a small panic begin. The inside of the maze appeared larger than the outer dimensions. But that wasn' t possible. Or was it?

  Inyx stepped forward. Her foot touched a faintly discolored portion of the marble floor. Shock raced along her nerves. Excruciating pain snapped her head back and caused her teeth to rattle. She fell heavily. The death tube clattered across the floor.

  " You can pick it up," the Lord said, cavorting about just inches away on the other side of the barrier. " Go on."

  She reached out and again felt the pain lash every nerve in her body. This time she hadn' t touched the discoloration on the floor, only invaded the air above it.

  " Better hurry, good lady. Look what wants you for dessert."

  She screamed. The monster had no distinct form. It shimmered in and out at the limits of visibility, but what Inyx saw horrified her. Teeth: long, sharp, carnivorous. Eyes: small, red, mean. Talons: meant for ripping apart exposed bellies. Worst of all for her was the knobby organ sprouting between the wavering creature' s legs. Tumescent, it thrust forward like a fleshy sword.

  " It' s hungry, good lady," came the taunting commentary. " And I just fed it three of my meatiest guards. Now, whatever else can it want? For dessert?"

  Inyx felt claws raking her body. She fought back, but her hands discovered nothing to grip, to use for leverage. The woman panicked when the beast bent her forward, its claws cutting through her clothing and leaving her bare and bloody.

  " It used to be human," said the Lord. " Well, it used to be close to human. I' ve alter
ed it since I found it in a lower dungeon. We get along quite well, the two of us. I do hope you two will find some enjoyment together."

  A needle- sharp talon rested between Inyx' s breasts. The creature guided her so that she faced away from it, using the talon as a goad. She screamed when it probed upward between her legs. Fear took control of her as the woman felt the creature violate her.

  Then shock set in. A cold, emotionless calm descended on her. Almost as if she were in a daze, she still knew what to do, how to act. Inyx reached between her legs and found a leathery sac tightened with lust. Grabbing it, she jerked forward. The creature bellowed in rage, tried to withdraw. As it straightened, she hooked her right instep behind its foot. Pulling hard on both foot and scrotum, she twisted the creature around. It fell heavily directly onto the spot in the maze which had induced such pain in her earlier.

  It cried out, its shrill scream going beyond the upper limits of human hearing. Then it sizzled, wiggling as if it had fallen onto a hot griddle. Its death throes were relatively peaceful.

  Inyx clutched her arms around her body and sobbed. The fugue state had passed totally; she had returned to normal, and the reality didn' t suit her.

  " Why, this is astounding. You are the first to ever kill one of my creatures inside a maze. Remarkable! I knew Alberto had found me a choice prospect. But do hurry, good lady. You have only a small fraction of the hour left to find a way out."

  Inyx shot the Lord a look of pure hatred. He delighted in it. She picked up the scraps of her clothing and managed to cover enough of herself so that she felt less vulnerable. Then the woman began to think seriously about the maze. It extended further than it should in the small space. While it had to be magically inspired, the clue lay in the apparent size of the homunculus- the former Lord of the Twistings- she' d seen in the other maze. While the current Lord looked full- size to her, a complex magical spell might have reduced her in size. If so, the maze seemed relatively larger to her.

  She considered the dimensions. It might be as much as four times as large as she thought, if she' d been diminished in size. Inyx set out with this in mind, following the outer wall. The turns came where she expected. She heaved a sigh of relief at this. Any information had to be useful. The woman rounded a corner, stopped, and irrationally began to weep.

  Spinning, she retraced her steps. The tears continued rolling down her cheeks, but the emotion producing them vanished.

  " Ah, the Vale of Tears," said the Lord. " That' s one of my better creations. Have you found Laughing Valley yet? Several of my most recent guests have died laughing there."

  Inyx didn' t answer. She took a firm control of herself and plunged through the area causing the welling of tears. On the other side, she found her left arm hung limp at her side. No amount of massage convinced it to respond. Inyx felt as if all the nerves had been severed. She kept the general plan of the maze in mind; to blunder around aimlessly meant only death or further misery. She continued walking.

  " No more time, good lady. No more. Sorry." She glanced outside. The Lord of the Twistings grew in stature.

  Her mind struggled with that. He didn' t grow, he was standing up. He' d been sitting down as he followed her through the maze. She was on a bottom level. She had to be.

  Searching overhead produced the answer. A rectangle, edges barely visible, stretched above her. Inyx jumped, caught the edges, and pulled herself up. For a moment, she wondered if she' d bettered her position at all. Huge floating eyes stared at her. Inyx gasped, then realized they were the Lord' s eyes, peering through the side of the maze. Somehow he had blanked out his face, leaving behind only the brown eyes surrounded with oyster- white sclera.

  " No!" the Lord of the Twistings cried. And Inyx knew that finding one extra level to the maze had been the secret for escape.

  She raced around, hands pressing into the outer barrier. She quickly found an empty spot.

  " Got it!" she exulted. Inyx plunged through the opening. Pain ripped through her body, searing every nerve and causing her to twist and jerk in excruciating agony.

  The Lord of the Twistings' laughter soon drowned out her own pitiful cries for surcease.

  CHAPTER NINE

  " Don' t use that," said Lan Martak, holding his hands in front of him, as if to prevent the woman from firing her death tube at him. " This is all a mistake."

  " No mistake," the grey officer said. She hadn' t risen to the rank of captain by being stupid. " You and the spider are the ones Silvain ordered arrested." She paused, cocked her head to one side as if appraising Lan and finding him wanting, and finally asked, " How did you escape so easily from Zol and his patrol?"

  " Zol?" Lan asked. His fingers tried to tie themselves into knots. He felt power beginning to flow. Gently teasing it, he wanted to delay the woman as long as possible until he got a good grip on his spells. The deflection spell required too much concentration; it welled up from deep in his unconscious mind. He had to employ another spell if he wanted to get away unharmed.

  Power surged. He reached, almost controlling it, almost making it his own.

  " The leader of the troops at the cenotaph. Zol' s a good man. You hardly appear the sort to get by him."

  " He frightened much too easily," said Krek, his voice louder than normal. " All I did was-"

  " Stop!" the woman barked. She swung her tube toward Krek. This was the opening Lan needed. He took a pace toward her.

  " Don' t harm him," he said, pulling her attention back from Krek. " He' s a bit simple- minded."

  " Simple!" The spider' s mandibles clashed horribly. But this time her attention remained on Lan. She had figured out what the man had tried to do- she wasn' t going to allow him to take even one step more toward her without firing.

  " Enough talk. We go to the palace. The commandant wants to speak with you."

  " Can' t do it," said Lan, advancing. The woman' s finger tensed on the trigger. He kept moving. She fired.

  " Friend Lan Martak!" shrieked the spider. " You are hit!"

  The beam went straight and true- and missed his body by several inches. Lan felt no pang of chivalry as he danced forward and squarely planted his feet. His fist drove short and powerful for her chin. Her head snapped back. She fell to the ground, unconscious.

  " But I don' t understand," said Krek. " Her death beam struck in your rather scrawny midsection."

  " I' ve been reading up on illusions. I' m not too good, but I did find one that was easy enough to conjure. I made her think my body was shifted a foot to the right. The beam hit an illusion."

  " You might have informed me you were going to do such a thing. It is unseemly for me to carry on as I just did." The spider primly pulled himself upright, back and abdomen brushing the ceiling.

  " No time for that. She' s brought her soldiers with her."

  " I fail to see what problem that presents."

  Krek bellowed, then charged- directly through a wall.

  A cloud of plaster filled the air as the spider rushed out. Screams of terror quickly drowned out Krek' s battle call. Only one grey- clad held his line. Even so, his shaking hand barely held his cylinder. As he brought up the weapon to fire on Krek, Lan triggered the death tube he' d taken from the fallen woman. The beam lanced forth and speared the man. He died before his body struck the ground. If the other soldiers had been willing to fight, the sight of their captain unconscious, Jonrod the Flash' s building in ruin, and one of their own number cut in half on the street dissuaded them. They broke and ran.

  " Let' s get out of here," Lan said, tugging at the spider' s hind leg. " Some officer' s going to wonder why they' re running around without supervision; then all the demons of the Lower Places won' t be able to help us."

  " Quite," said Krek, composing himself. " Let us explore in that direction." He indicated the opposite direction from that taken by the soldiers.

  " It' s remarkably easy avoiding them," said Lan, ducking into a store as a small patrol of grey soldiers went by. " The ele
ction has them tied up too much to pay any attention to individuals." He glanced at Krek, who stood silently by, lost in his own thoughts. With the campaign heating up for Lord of the Twistings, more and more illusions stalked the streets. In comparison to any of them, Krek now seemed to be minor, insignificant, not worth a second glance.

  " Where are we?" asked Krek. " We wander aimlessly and for too many days. This pavement tires my feet. When you have eight feet, it does not pay to have even half hurting."

  " Sorry, old spider," said Lan, without too much sympathy. " Ever since we left Jonrod' s headquarters a couple days ago, I' ve been trying to section off the city for a systematic search. We' ve gone through the majority of the places I think Inyx most likely to be."

  " This is Lossal Boulevard," said the spider. " I recognize it from our first day in Dicca. The part we traverse is much seamier than that we previously explored."

  " You want anything or did you just come in to pee and get out of the sun?" asked a gruff shopkeeper. Lan looked around the shop and decided he didn' t have much appetite for pigs' ears or ox eyes, both considered gourmet items by the Dicca gentry.

  " Need information," he said. " A few days back someone told me about an illusion along Lossal."

  " Nothing but, these days," the man grumbled.

  " These were Fine Rooms. A window display."

  " You mean Luister len- Larrotti. Humph." The shopkeeper spat and accurately hit a spittoon, making a brass ringing noise. " Son of a sow keeps his damned unsightly place a few blocks farther south. Past Mittervault Avenue."

  " Nobody seems to like this Luister len- Larrotti, but everyone knows him," observed Lan. " He must be something of a local villainor celebrity."

  " Spit, that' s what he is, spit." The man demonstrated. " But this is a perky one he' s got in his window. Or so I hear."

  " I' ll check it out and report back firsthand," promised Lan. He and Krek left. Outside, Lan said, " He' s been by those Fine Rooms. I can tell. But he' s like most of the people around and won' t admit it. This must be some sight."