Wizards at War, New Millennium Edition

by Diane Duane

  The charred remnants of the King still lay there, smoking. But within them, slowly drawing upward instead of drifting outward, was a deeper darkness, gathering together and shaping itself into a new form: humanoid enough, but taller than any human, and with a far deeper darkness in the eyes gazing down at them as the shape grew more ominously distinct. Solidifying, clothing itself in a long ebon tunic and booted breeches somewhat like Roshaun’s, the young and darkly handsome figure of the Lone Power glanced down and around It, and casually kicked Its way out of the ruin of the King’s body like someone kicking his way out of a pair of shucked-off jeans.

  The Lone One stepped down from the dais and surveyed the smoking remains of the King. Then It turned around and looked at them. “‘Oops’?” It said.

  The voice was deep, urbane, and dry. It could almost have been pleasant had Nita not known perfectly well that the pleasantness was never more than a disguise or a trap. What worried her most at the moment was that all Its attention was bent on Carmela. It left the dais and stalked toward them. “‘Oops’?”

  Carmela had sense enough to be unnerved. She took a hasty step backward, then another, as the Lone Power approached. “Sorry,” she said.

  “I rather doubt it,” the Lone One said, “but that will change. Is it possible that you don’t know you’ve made things worse for yourself, not better? Then again, you’re new at this. Well, in the short time left to you, here’s one lesson for you to learn.”

  It smiled, and Carmela shrank back. Then her eyes abruptly went wide. A little shriek burst out of her. She spun and, hastily, overhand, threw the curling iron away hard. A mere six feet or so away from her, in midair, it blew up.

  Everyone jumped back. Nita gulped, and was briefly relieved that Carmela had spent so much of this school year on the pitcher’s mound for the school softball team.

  “So much for science,” the Lone One said. “Though I must confess that why you weren’t more susceptible to control is an issue for curiosity.”

  “Might be that someone here was able to keep you from noticing,” Ronan said. Leaning on the Spear of Light, he glowered at the Lone One from under those dark brows of his.

  “That seems unlikely,” the Lone Power said. “He’s got precious little power left in him right now, and he can’t draw on the pitiful scrap of power that’s got left.” It glanced dismissively at the Spear, which now simply looked like a spear and nothing else; its flame was gone, and not even the twisting fires that normally lived in its blade were there anymore. “But even more unlikely is the possibility that she was able to keep the information to herself. So for the moment we’ll file the matter under ‘interesting but unimportant.’”

  It turned around and looked briefly at the King’s remains. “What a shame,” the Lone One said. “I’d just gotten this one broken in. But I’ll soon grow another. Meantime, I have other business here.”

  “What are you going to do with us?” Kit said.

  “Probably nothing,” It said.

  “Oh, sure!” Dairine said.

  “No,” the Lone One said, “seriously. Why should I exert myself? Not a single one of you has enough power to turn lemons into lemonade. And that’s not going to change.” It strolled over toward the softly growling Ponch. “Not even he can get out of here; his abilities, not that I care to try to understand them, are derived from wizardry as well. You’re all completely stuck.”

  It turned Its back on Ponch and wandered over to Memeki. “I admit,” It said, “normally just killing you would be my initial impulse. But I’m thinking it would be more fun just to let you all wander around on this planet for the rest of your natural lives, which probably wouldn’t be long: there’s not much to eat or drink here that your metabolisms are built to handle. But you’d live quite long enough to suffer from some of the things that are going to happen as a result of your failure.”

  The Lone One came to a halt by Memeki’s side, gazing down at her. “And as for the attempted ‘Aeon of Light’ here,” It said, kicking Memeki idly with one booted toe, “the Unfallen One and all the rest of the fancy terminology—well, she’s a spent force. She waited a few seconds too long to make up her mind. When I sealed wizardry away, she lost access to the power that would have allowed her to enact her transformation. So, starting in a few minutes, when the grubs hatch and she begins to die, her embodiment will officially have failed … and after that, I won’t ever have to worry about the much-waited-for Hesper again, in this or any universe. You did know that if an emergent Power’s first embodiment fails, both the being inside time and the being outside in timelessness cease to exist?”

  Nita glanced over at Kit and the others, miserable. “Oh, good, you knew,” the Lone One said, pleased. “That will make your failure hurt lots worse. If a Power hasn’t actually been on hand at the creation of a physical universe, the initial successful embodiment is the risk it has to take to insert itself into one. If the Hesper had been smart and stayed outside of so-called reality, in timelessness, I’d have left it completely alone. But once it decided to meddle in what’s going on inside physicality, it had to pass this test first, which always eventually attracts my attention, though this time it took a little more tracking down than usual. I’ve been expecting this move ever since my so-called redemption. The One didn’t wait nearly as long as I thought It would. Its mistake.”

  The Lone One looked down at Memeki, amused, and turned away. “So, no more Hesper. She’s about to do what all good mothers on Rashah do—die.” It smiled at Nita and Dairine. “Her children will go on to start useful and productive careers as my slaves. And I’ll have at least a few aeons’ more peace and quiet until the Powers decide to try another stunt like this.”

  “I doubt it will be anything like that long,” Filif said, giving the Lone One a look of massive disapproval out of every berry-eye.

  “Oh, I think it will,” the Lone One said. “The Powers That Be used up a great deal of energy setting up this project, and They hate to waste. Now, of course, I used up a fair amount, too, because I needed to distract all you little wizardly busybodies from noticing what I suspected was happening somewhere or other. It didn’t entirely work—after all, here you are. But all the same, you’ve done me a favor. Without all of you bringing Rashah to my attention, who knows whether I’d have been alerted to this problem right under my nose in time to do something about it?” It smiled again. “So the other Powers have outsmarted Themselves … and it’ll be a long time before they feel like trying this again.” It gave Filif an amused look. “Life on your planet will be so much mulch by then. Actually, it’ll be mulch a lot sooner, because even though I don’t mind all of you living out your little antlike lives in misery on Rashah, your worlds are going to pay up front for your meddling. Certainly you didn’t expect otherwise!”

  “So you’re just going to let the Pullulus destroy everything,” Ronan said bleakly.

  “Don’t be silly,” the Lone One said, sitting down on the dais and crossing Its legs. “If I did that, what would be left to play with? There are billions of years’ worth of suffering left in your universe yet. Oh, I’m finished with the Pullulus now. When I withdraw my attention from it, it’ll run down in a hurry. While it didn’t completely do what I wanted it to, it did disrupt or even destroy a good number of civilizations in the populated galaxies. The other Powers will waste far more energy trying to save the maximum number of all those trillions of endangered lives than I ever spent destroying them. So I’ve won this round on two counts.”

  Its smile got nastier. “And while They’re trying to pick up the pieces elsewhere in the universe, I can amuse myself with raising another King for the Commorancy, and watching all of you run around trying to survive on Rashah. It really is a nice little world. Hundreds of thousands of Yaldiv, every one of them devoted to my service, and every one convinced that all other life is their enemy, and that only I can offer them salvation. I haven’t had such a promising species to work with for a long time. Possibly not
even since yours.” It gave Nita and the other three Earth-humans a look of ironic appreciation. “Once I’ve got enough of them, and I’ve given them the right technology, they should be able to overrun a significant portion of this universe. But present pleasures first.” It glanced at Roshaun. “One early order of business will be to push the Pullulus in tightly enough around your solar system to flare up Wellakh’s star. Your people always do react more hysterically to fire than to ice.”

  Nita saw Roshaun go pale, but he kept his face stern. He plainly wasn’t going to give the Lone One the satisfaction of seeing him express his fear.

  “And I can use the same technique on your people, I suppose,” It said, looking back at Filif. “‘Kindler of Wildfires,’ they call me? They won’t have seen anything like this. The sunside of your planet will be one big charcoal briquette when I’m done. Your little friends,” and It frowned at Dairine, “have unfortunately made themselves energy-independent … but we’ll see how much good that does them when one or two rogue planets collide with theirs from either side. It’ll be just like dropping an egg on concrete. All that tinkly shattering silicon.” It glanced over at Kit and Nita and Ronan. “And then, of course, Earth. The Pullulus is doing such a lovely job there already, I won’t have to do a single thing but watch. It’s closing in on your heliopause already, and people’s tempers are getting frayed. Every government on the planet with any weapons worth noticing is already at DEFCON Two, and it’s only a matter of hours before the big show begins. A fallen skyscraper or two will be nothing compared to what’s coming up. And you’ll know, for the rest of your short lives, that it was all your fault.”

  It stretched Its arms above Its head and grinned. Nita gulped.

  Kit, though, gave It a blasé look. “Nice gloat,” he said.

  The Lone One gave him a look. “You’re too kind,” It said. “But I’m just telling you the truth, which you pretend so to value. And, Kit…” It tsk-tsk-tsked at him. “Denial, even disguised as humor, suits you so badly. Don’t you understand? You’re not getting out this time. You don’t have a scrap of wizardry left to you. And did it occur to you that you might have been a little too secretive about getting here? There’s not a wizard anywhere in this universe who either knows where you’ve gone or is going to be able to do anything about it. Since this is now a no-wizardry zone, manual functions won’t be able to find you. And don’t think I’m forgetting your multilegged friend at the Crossings,” It said, looking over at Nita. “He’s got his claws full, too, every one of them.”

  It sat down on the dais, crossing Its legs and swinging them a little. “So, for the extremely foreseeable future, here you stay. It takes quite a lot of power to exclude wizardry from any space, but with my energy investment withdrawn from ninety-nine percent of the Pullulus now, I have some to spare. I’m perfectly happy to use it making sure that the ‘Great Art’ is permanently disabled here. And in the meantime—”

  On the floor before the dais, Memeki began heaving rhythmically.

  The Lone Power laced Its fingers behind Its head and leaned back. “No,” It said, “there’s no rush at all. Nature is going to take its inevitable course, and we’ll all get to watch this particular zero hollow itself out.”

  Nita stood there frozen with horror as she watched the heaving wrack Memeki more and more terribly. That awful wave of desperation she’d felt in the Crossings rose up to possess her again, and this time it stuck. This is it, then, she thought. Despite all our work, regardless of everything we did, it’s all over.

  Behind her, someone moved. Ronan pushed past Nita to stand in front of her and Memeki. “All right,” he said, pausing to lean on the Spear again, “I don’t know about everybody else here, but I for one think it’s time somebody put some manners on you.”

  The Lone Power burst out laughing at him. “Oh please!” It said. “Just look at you! You and the Toothpick of Virtue. That can’t hurt me now: it’s absolutely no good for anything without someone who both knows how to use it, and has the strength! Which, as we’ve seen, you don’t.”

  “You’re right,” Ronan said. “I don’t. But someone else does.”

  “You know, you missed your calling,” the Lone Power said. “Why aren’t you in stand-up comedy? You’re just another cage for another spent force! My esteemed ‘little brother’ might be wearing fewer feathers this time, but you’re an even worse embodiment for him than his last one.” It turned Its back on Ronan and walked away, chuckling and shaking Its head. “You’ve only once let him have access to his full power, and never again since. Talk about a hopeless mismatch! But since he had to commit fully to embodying inside you, he’s stuck there whether he likes it or not. If he tried to leave you, it’d kill you. And, being a Power of Light”—the Lone One turned, and the sneer in Its voice was so full of scorn that the words almost burned in Nita’s ears—”he’d never take that chance.”

  “No,” Ronan said softly. “He wouldn’t.”

  “So you see that for all your big words—”

  “But I would!”

  Nita’s head snapped around.

  Ronan leaned back and threw the Spear.

  Forged in wizardry by one of the Powers That Be, with another Power as old as wizardry itself bound into the starsteel of the blade, the Spear of Light roared out of Ronan’s hand toward the Lone One. The Lone Power casually flung up a hand alive with black lightning to deflect it. But the Spear went nowhere near It. Instead, it swung far around the Lone One’s back, roared past him, and headed back.

  The breath went out of Nita. “Ronan!”

  He didn’t move, except to look just slightly sideways at Nita: that dark, wry, ironic expression of his, mocking himself now as much as the One whom he was attacking in the least expected way. In that last second, Ronan threw his arms wide—a grandstanding gesture, a casually defiant flash of black against the dim heat of the hive—and the Spear of Light struck him in the chest, and he went down.

  “No!” screamed the Lone Power, and the whole City shook.

  Nita stood there wide-eyed and gasping, as stricken as if she’d been the one hit by the Spear. She plunged toward where Ronan lay, bleeding blood and fire. But a breath later, a wave of force blasting away from the light that pooled around him struck Nita and knocked her and all the others flat … even the Lone Power. In that shock wave, the fallen bodies of the Arch-votary and its warriors were scattered across the floor of the central chamber like so many toys, and, with the rebound of the shock wave, a huge form of light gathered itself up around Ronan, swirling, streaming upward. Across the floor, the shape that had been human moments before and had been blasted into a puddle of darkness by that fury of light now began straining upward to reform itself, a blinding blackness throwing itself out in a hundred directions in writhing, raging tendrils and tentacles of shadow.

  Nita scrambled to her knees, craning her neck to take in the tremendous form towering over them, armed in light, armored in fire. Once again she understood why, long ago, the first thing such an apparition had to say to the people who saw it was “Fear not.” No sane and mortal creature could look on the One’s Champion in full manifestation without being afraid that mere fragile reality might start to shred around so terrible a Power for good. The Champion towered up into the heights in what looked to Nita like human form. But in this manifestation, the Defender was not terribly concerned about details such as gender or ornament. Light flared behind It like wings, licking upward like fire, as It stood there burning like a statue cast in lightning, laughing uproariously.

  Free! the Champion cried. Once again, Brother, you’ve underestimated the tenacity of the One’s other weapons. This one in particular! I’m surprised you ever let him in here, but then this splinter of you seriously believed that the first work I did with Ronan was what I came to him for! It laughed again, delighted. And though there’s only one thing I can do, now—thanks to him, it’s the only thing that needs to be done. You’ve done everything else for us; you yourself trigg
ered the whole cycle of events you most desired to avoid!

  The Champion lifted one arm and pointed what It held at the furiously writhing, growing shape of blackness building before It. A sword like a splinter of sun’s core lifted over the Lone One, ready to strike. So as you interrupted my work once before, now I interrupt yours. And what was trying to happen, now has one last chance.

  That unbearable shard of light reared high, struck down. Another blast of power hit Nita so hard that she staggered, but not because of the impact of any physical force. The words came rushing back right through her as the Speech once again meant something. Her charm bracelet blazed; the rowan wand in her belt burned moonfire chill. She glanced around, saw the others scrambling up from where the shock wave had thrown them, regaining their power and their weapons.

  The light around them grew less bright. Nita looked up in shock and saw that the dark shape of the Lone One lay writhing on the floor like a tangle of shadowy snakes. But the burning form of the Champion was fading, slipping away out of the physical world. I can’t stay any longer inside time, It said in the depths of Nita’s mind, and the others’. This embodiment ended too soon: I have no more power to spend. Now hurry! It’s up to you.

  The light vanished: the Champion was gone. At least It’s broken the Lone One’s blockage, Nita thought. But the Lone One was still there. And were Its shadowy tentacles getting more solid again? She glanced at the still-heaving Memeki, who was trying to get to her feet. Filif and Roshaun and Dairine hurried over to her, getting down to support her, pushing her up. But Nita headed straight past them to Ronan, flinging herself down on her knees beside him.

  The Spear stood upright in him, burning. Nita reached to pull it out of him, then hesitated as its blade went up in a great flame of furious white fire. Why? Though maybe it’s trying to protect him, maybe if I pulled it out he’d—

  Kit was suddenly there, kneeling across from Nita, staring down at Ronan, the light of the Spear glinting in his eyes. A moment later, Nita became aware of a darkness overshadowing her. She looked up. It was Memeki, with Roshaun and Dairine and Carmela and Filif all around her, helping keep her on her feet. Memeki’s claws trembled as she reached down to Ronan, toward the Spear.