Oblivion's Grasp

by Eric T Knight

  “Who is it? Who is with him?”

  “I don’t know. But he’s not human.” Her eyes widened as the realization hit her. “Lowellin. It must be him.” To Shorn’s inquisitive look she said, “Cara told me that Lowellin always seemed to have a special hatred for Melekath. She said Ricarn told her Lowellin was never really there to help the Tenders, but that he was using us to take his revenge on Melekath. It all makes sense now. Somehow he learned about Melekath fleeing from his Children and he guessed, like we did, that Melekath would come here.”

  “Is he aware of us?”

  Netra listened for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. He is too focused on Melekath.” She started for the doorway. “We have to hurry. Melekath is very weak. We don’t have much time.”

  Shorn stopped her. “Do you have a plan?”

  “Not really. I guess we’ll have to make it up as we go.” She pulled away and went through the door. Shorn made an exasperated sound and followed her.

  Inside the doorway they found themselves in a short, broad hallway, which led to a large, arched opening. Curved corridors branched off either side of the hallway. Netra stopped at the arch and peered through. Beyond was a massive amphitheater with a stone tiled floor. On every side tiered rows of seats circled the amphitheater, stretching upwards at least fifty rows high.

  Each of the levels above the amphitheater had broad balconies. Each level was smaller so that a person on any level could stand at the edge of the balcony and look down on the central amphitheater.

  In the center of the amphitheater, lying spread-eagled on a waist-high block of stone, was Melekath. Lowellin stood over him. In his right hand he held a long, thin stone spike. Several more were in his left hand. There were spikes through Melekath’s wrists and his feet, holding him in place.

  As they watched, Lowellin held up the spike in his right hand, concentrating on it. Netra sensed, rather than saw, the Stone power building within the spike. Lowellin pushed it through Melekath’s stomach, then into the stone beneath him. Melekath moaned and struggled weakly as he did so.

  Lowellin stepped back, surveying his work. His face was lit by a fierce inner light.

  “How does it feel, Melekath? Does this mean as much to you as it does to me?”

  Melekath rolled his head to face him. “It hurts. Is that what you want me to say?”

  “It is a start.”

  “But it does not hurt as much as the pain of knowing I have failed my Children. This is nothing compared to that.”

  With a snarl, Lowellin clenched another one of the stone spikes until it pulsed with power, then stabbed it through his chest. A moan came from Melekath, bitten off halfway through.

  “Is it what you thought it would be?” Melekath said when he had gotten himself under control once again. His voice was faint. “Are the years you waited worth it?”

  “Not yet,” Lowellin replied. “But this is only the beginning.” He drove another spike through Melekath’s chest. “It is strange how much this hurts you,” he mused. “You gave too much of yourself when you made the Gift. And for what? You sacrificed so much for them and in return they hate you.”

  “They are right to hate me,” Melekath said. “The Gift I gave them turned out to be a curse. In their place I would feel the same.”

  “How can you be so old, so powerful, and still be so foolish?”

  “A worthy question. One I have asked myself many times. There was much time for it, trapped in here.”

  “You’ll have plenty more time when I am done with you. You’ll have forever. I am going to destroy you like you destroyed Tu Sinar and Golgath.”

  “You can lay many crimes on me,” Melekath said weakly, “but not those. Their destruction was not my doing.”

  Lowellin looked down on him, clearly surprised. “Truly?”

  “It must have been Kasai. His hatred of the Eight was greater than anyone’s and he was ever impetuous in his wrath.”

  “So the Guardians have also turned against you.”

  “It is true.”

  “It is almost redundant for me to torture you, cursed as you are by all those who were closest to you.”

  “Your hatred must have an outlet. You must have someone to blame.”

  “What are you saying? What is this talk of blame?”

  “You are weak. You always have been.”

  Lowellin hissed with rage at his words and stabbed him with another stone spike. “You forget where you are and who has control over you,” he snapped.

  “Your hatred of me, I understand,” Melekath said. He coughed. Something dribbled out the corner of his mouth. “Always you were jealous because I am First Ring and you are not.”

  “I have never been jealous of you.”

  “Jealous of the time I spent with her then.”

  “You understand nothing. Ultimately, she cared no more for you than for me. Believe me, my full hatred is not for you.”

  “Then who? Who do you hate so much?”

  “You really don’t know, do you? Can the great Melekath really be so blind? Did you never figure it out in all your years down here?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I was Xochitl’s favorite. Me.” Lowellin’s face twisted from some powerful emotion. “She spent her time with me. Until you created them. Then I was no longer enough. From the beginning she was fascinated by them. It was all she could speak of. Nothing I said made any difference.”

  “You’re jealous of them,” Melekath said wonderingly.

  “And why shouldn’t I be? From the time you created them, she was ever enthralled by them. I thought it only a passing thing. I went along and I hid my true feelings because I was certain she would tire of them.” Lowellin’s voice was hoarse agony. “The centuries passed and still she could see only them. And you. You were their creator and that drew her in some way I could not understand. Don’t you see? Between them and you, there was nothing left for me. She gave me only crumbs and I was supposed to be happy with them.”

  Melekath was staring at him. “I had no idea.”

  “No one did. I hid it well. I knew if I acted openly against her precious children that I would lose her forever. When you went away to create the Gift I saw my chance. I poisoned your creation against you. I poisoned her against you. I even managed to cause a gap between her and them, a gap that only I could cross over.” He was pacing now, caught in his own tormented memories. “I was ready for your return. Once you saw how much they hated and feared you, once you saw how even Xochitl had come to distrust you, you would go into a rage and perhaps even destroy them yourself. Even if you didn’t, surely there would be opportunities for ridding the world of them and you both.”

  He bent over suddenly and seized Melekath around the throat, squeezing, banging his head on the stone. “I never dreamed you would actually succeed in making them immortal. But when I saw that you had, I discovered a new opportunity. As I knew they would—weak, stupid creatures that they are—some took you up on your offer of immortality and I knew that you had made your fatal mistake. I knew that the other Nipashanti would not stand by as you subverted the ancient agreement that allowed Life to exist. Do you remember that agreement?”

  Melekath nodded. “When Life dies, what it has taken from the Spheres is then returned.”

  “You were a fool to forget that. It was easy to rouse the rest of them against you. Xochitl was the only one who was difficult to convince. She thought you could be reasoned with in time. She thought she could make you see what you had done and undo it. But I stayed after her and I roused her followers against you as well, showing them how you were the destruction of all they held dear. In the end I think it was her pets that convinced her to move against you. That and the fact that the other Nipashanti were prepared to act with or without her.

  “I was surprised by the shield you erected around your city. I had no idea such a thing was possible. That was the most difficult point. Several of the Nipashanti wanted to quit right th
en and return to their own lands. But I stayed on them, telling them over and over what would happen if they let this pass.

  “And it was I who suggested using chaos power. The prison was my idea. I knew they would not listen to me, but I knew that, given time, Xochitl would. She trusted me. I showed her how the prison was the only humane way to go. You and your followers would be safely sealed away, but still alive. She could never have borne any solution that led to your destruction.”

  He let go of Melekath and stood upright, staring off into the darkness, remembering, lost in his own world.

  Then he recovered himself and looked once again at Melekath. “It almost worked perfectly. You would have been sealed away forever. But she weakened in her resolve at the wrong moment. She lost her hold on the chaos power and an imperfection was introduced. A hole that Sententu—noble fool that he was—volunteered to seal with his own body. Even that would have been enough, except that you had one more hidden chip. The ronhym that helped you erect the shield.”

  “I never dreamed she would do that,” Melekath said. “I had no idea Ketora cared enough to sacrifice herself to save my Children. She is the one true hero in this tragedy.”

  Lowellin continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “I have to admit, you freed yourself from the prison faster than I expected. It surprised me. I thought then that my plans might come to naught. How happy I was to discover you so badly weakened. And I cannot tell you how perfect it was that your own Children turned on you, injuring you so badly that this would all be so simple.”

  Lowellin rubbed his hands together. “And that is how we came to be here. Now there is only one step remaining and I will be done with you forever.”

  “What is it?” Melekath’s voice was utterly weary. It was clear he had no fight left in him and had abandoned himself to his fate.

  Lowellin turned half away and stuck his hand out. “Come, Ilsith, my Other!”

  The shadows coalesced around his hand and when they lifted, he was holding the black staff Ilsith.

  “One last surprise,” Lowellin said, taking Ilsith in both hands and holding it horizontally over Melekath. “Show him, Ilsith.”

  The staff shivered and seemed to split open. From its depths came a bulge, a transparent sac seemingly filled with some kind of purplish liquid. Within the liquid swam two creatures, like living slashes of darkness. Things of endless hunger.

  Netra fell back a step, recognizing them instantly. They were the things that devoured Tu Sinar. They would devour Melekath and all hope of undoing the Gift would be lost forever. She turned to Shorn.

  He was gone.

  “Shorn!” she whispered, as loudly as she dared. Where had he gone? She looked down the two curved corridors that ran off the hallway but saw nothing. Her heart beating fast, she turned back toward the two Shapers.

  “Ingerlings!” Melekath gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “Why, I’m destroying you, that’s what I’m doing,” Lowellin said, giving an odd laugh. “I’m glad to see you know what they are. Ilsith discovered how Kasai obtained them. I have been waiting only for the right moment.”

  “But you can’t control them. They are creatures of the abyss. What will they do once they have finished feeding on me?”

  “I suppose they will devour your beloved Children next,” Lowellin answered, gesturing toward the city around them.

  “And after that?”

  “The rest of the pathetic Circle of Life,” Lowellin said with a shrug.

  “And that really means nothing to you?”

  “You clearly haven’t been listening. Your creation was a mistake from the very beginning.”

  “Then you’re a fool. Eventually they’ll come after you too.”

  “I can handle them,” Lowellin said confidently. “I have given it much thought.” He held Ilsith close and stared into the watery sac.

  “Once I touch this to you…”

  Then, from the far side of the block of stone, Shorn leapt up. Lowellin was just starting to turn when Shorn wrapped his arms around him from behind, his huge hands closing over Lowellin’s, around the staff.

  His mighty arms flexed and he began pulling Ilsith toward Lowellin.

  Lowellin’s eyes bulged. Tendons stood out in his neck as he fought to keep Ilsith and its deadly cargo away from him.

  But his strength was no match for Shorn’s. Gradually, inexorably, the staff came closer. Lowellin’s eyes fixed on the ingerlings, which had stopped swimming around and were pressed against the side of the sac, facing him. Their mouths opened and closed.

  “No, please,” Lowellin gasped.

  With a final jerk, Shorn overcame the last of his resistance. The staff struck him, the bubble burst—

  And the ingerlings were free.

  Shorn pushed Lowellin away from him. Lowellin staggered across the stage, slapping wildly at the creatures. They tore through his clothes and latched onto him. In seconds they were gone, burrowed inside him.

  Lowellin stared at Shorn, his eyes bulging.

  “What you’ve done…” he gasped.

  There was movement under his skin. He began to scream. The movement became more frenzied. Lowellin tore futilely at his skin. He seemed smaller already, as if he was collapsing in on himself.

  Netra ran up to the stage. “Grab Melekath!” she yelled at Shorn. “We have to get out of here! I don’t know how long it will take them to finish him.”

  Shorn turned to the block of stone and began yanking the spikes out of Melekath. In moments he had him free and slung him over his shoulder. He glanced at Lowellin. Lowellin had fallen to his knees. Something was coming out of his mouth. He reached one shaking hand out for Ilsith, lying nearby on the floor. Ilsith slithered away out of reach.

  Lowellin raised one hand to Shorn as if in supplication.

  Shorn turned away and jumped off the stone. Then he and Netra ran for the exit.

  Fifty-five

  Reyna made it to the palace just as ki’Loren was receding into the distance. She kicked the fallen stones of the wall out of her way as if they were mere pebbles. The trees Josef had animated were standing there, bereft of motion now that he was gone and she knocked them aside with hardly a thought as she made her way around the palace. The Children were packed at the back wall, staring out at the ocean, cursing and moaning the loss of their prey.

  Heram was the first to feel Reyna’s presence and he turned. His mouth dropped open and his normally stolid face stretched in a grimace of disbelief at what he saw. Then awareness of her filtered down to the rest of the Children and they began to turn as well.

  Reyna was at least thirty feet tall and so filled with power that she glowed like a forge. It was raw, exhilarating, beyond anything imaginable. Nothing and no one could stand against her now. There was a tall stone tower nearby, wreathed in vines, and she knew she could knock it down with only the slightest of efforts. She didn’t even need to touch it. She needed only a slight exertion of will, a release of a tiny portion of her power, and it would be done.

  But right now she had more important things to do with her power. It was time for a final reckoning.

  Heram shut his mouth and set his jaw. A look Reyna had not expected appeared on his face—resignation and something that might have been scorn—instead of the fear and awe she had planned for. He strode towards her until he was standing only a few paces away, then he crossed his thick arms over his chest and looked up at her. His two followers, Dubron and Leckl, cowered by the wall, their faces turned away.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  “What I had to,” she replied. “You ate them all.” She wagged a finger at him. “That wasn’t nice, you know. You didn’t leave any of them for me.”

  Heram grunted. “It is no more than what you would have done.”

  She nodded. “So true. But then, I’ve never been a very nice person.”

  Karrl and Linde had been edging off to the side as she spoke and now they bolted like frightened rabbits,
their stolen Song giving them the power to flee in huge leaps and bounds. In seconds they would be off the palace grounds and lost in the city.

  Reyna didn’t even look at them.

  She raised one finger as if to make a point and both of them were seized in midair. They hung there, squirming and squealing. The other Children looked from them to Reyna and most of them froze, their expressions fearful. “I have a bad habit of holding grudges,” she said. “I’m really not a very good person to cross.”

  “That’s not true,” Heram said.

  Reyna cocked her head to one side. “You don’t say?”

  “Call it what it is. You’re a bitch, Reyna. It’s what you’ve always been.”

  Reyna laughed. “You’re right. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “Stop playing with them and be done with it.”

  “It’s not really that much fun,” she replied. “There’s no challenge to it.”

  Heram just stared at her.

  “Okay,” Reyna said. She snapped her fingers and Karrl and Linde simply exploded. Pieces of flesh rained down around them. The rest of the Children began to edge away. Only Heram stayed put, looking up at her calmly.

  Reyna tossed her hair, which was an impressive mane of red and gold that hung down past her shoulders in lustrous waves and curls. She was completely nude. Her curves were perfect, her skin a flawless white. Her beauty was awesome, but it was frightening as well.

  “What now?” Heram asked.

  “It won’t come as a surprise that I’ve never liked you, will it?”

  Heram shrugged.

  “I could keep you alive. You’re no threat to me at all.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “No. Again, not a nice person. And there’s always the chance you’d figure out what I’ve done and do the same.”

  “I’d sure try.”

  “You’re as thick as they come, but even an idiot can be right now and then.”

  “I’d crush you instantly if I could.”

  “You’re taking all the fun out of this, you know. Right now you should be begging me to spare you.”