Fire and Fog

CHAPTER TWELVE

Krek stood to one side watching as Lan Martak battled Claybore. The shadow hound vanished with a pop! and the struggles ceased. All that remained in the chamber was the lingering feeling that, while Claybore had left, he had not been defeated.

" You won!" cried Kiska k' Adesina. " To defeat a mage with Claybore' s power you must be the greatest who ever lived."

Krek watched carefully as Lan reacted. The play of emotion on the human' s face bothered the spider. He knew so little about what actually made Lan Martak what he was. The feeling he had, though, was not good. Lan responded to his bitter enemy' s compliments.

" I haven' t won," said Lan. " He still seeks his legs- and I do not have them. I must get them. I must!"

Inyx came to stand beside Krek, her hand resting on one of his furry legs.

" What do you think?" she asked.

" He will not listen to anything we say," the spider replied. " But he will listen to her."

" Why?"

" You humans go about things in ways too bizarre to comment upon," said Krek. " I have often wondered at his tastes."

" This is different," insisted Inyx.

Krek said nothing. The dramatic transformation in his friend was not one he liked seeing. The kindness he had witnessed before in Lan Martak now vanished, to be replaced by coldness. The mage was driven by a single- minded determination to destroy Claybore. That wasn' t evil. But the changes occurring in Lan Martak were- especially his inability to force Kiska k' Adesina away.

" He doesn' t need us," said Ducasien. The man stood close to Inyx and hesitated when he started to put his arm around her waist. Krek saw that the woman was torn between Ducasien and Lan, not willing to commit herself to either one- not fully, not at this moment.

He shared the dark- haired human' s confusion.

" He does," said Inyx, but conviction wasn' t in her tone.

" Ask him."

Inyx glared at Ducasien, then stormed forward and planted her feet firmly in front of Lan.

" What can we do to help you defeat Claybore?" she asked.

The expression on Lan' s face caused even Inyx to take a step back. The contempt written there was withering.

" I don' t need you," he said. " Your powers are no longer sufficient. Claybore and I fight on a different plane. We battle among the worlds, all along the Cenotaph Road." He smirked when he said, " Only I can defeat him. Not even Terrill was strong enough. I am."

" Leave us," said Kiska, her tone haughty and her expression as contemptuous as Lan' s.

" I don' t take orders from you, bitch," snapped Inyx. Her dagger seemed to leap into her hand of its own volition and the warrior woman swung without even realizing she made the effort. The blade struck something substantial in midair.

Lan' s hand had been raised and his fingers moved in arcane magical patterns.

" Let me kill her," raged Inyx. " She is destroying you. Listen to this bitch' s words and Claybore will eat your soul!"

" Claybore doesn' t control her," Lan said. " I do. And I want her by my side. I: I need her." Sweat popped out on his forehead as he spoke and he began shaking as if he had a palsy.

" Lan Martak," spoke up Krek, " look to yourself. You are the weapon needed to stop Claybore. That much is evident. But you are destroying yourself. Without you, what chance does any of us have?"

" None," the man said. The strain passed and the contempt returned. " You' re only a spider. And her, she' s not even that." His brown eyes locked on Inyx' s cold blue ones.

Inyx spun and stormed off. Ducasien glared at Lan and followed the woman. Krek remained behind, emotionally torn in this matter. The spider felt himself at a crossroads and unsure what road to take from this point into the future.

" You did not say the proper words, Lan Martak," said Krek. " You embarrassed and enraged friend Inyx. That is no way to treat her after her long and loyal- and loving- service."

" Let her go," said Lan. " She can' t help me any more."

" And this lumpy female can?" Krek pointed to Kiska.

Lan said nothing, but the sweat began beading on his forehead once again. The strain he endured had to be tremendous, but his words did nothing to escape the geas.

" She can," Lan Martak said.

" She will destroy you. She is destroying you. She is Claybore' s pawn and nothing more. How does she treat you? Why do you allow her to know your strategies, your tactics? If she means so much, place her in safety- somewhere far away."

" No!"

" Lan Martak, you are in danger from her."

" Shut up, you miserable web- hanger. I have more important things to do. I have to find Claybore. Defeat him. He: he can' t recover his legs. And I know where they are. But using them- how do I use them for my own gain?"

" There are things worse than being conquered by Claybore," said Krek. " Loss of your own self- esteem is one."

" Get out of here. Let me alone!"

Krek saw that Lan' s temper rose to a dangerous level. The mage' s fingers twitched and fat blue sparks jumped from one tip to the other. A fiery blast and Krek would be set afire. Krek didn' t know if there was any fate he feared more, unless it was drowning- or losing the friend who had been Lan Martak.

" When you need help, you can find me with friends Inyx and Ducasien."

Krek lumbered out of the chamber, leaving Lan and Kiska to their work poring over the grimoires left by Lirory Tefize. Krek had no doubt that, locked within one of those magical tomes, lay the secret of how to use Claybore' s legs against him. He also knew that the mere act of allowing Kiska k' Adesina to watch the search provided Claybore with inestimable advantage. She still worked for the disembodied sorcerer.

In the hallway Krek overtook Inyx and Ducasien.

" Where do you go, friend Inyx?" the spider asked.

" I don' t know," she said, close to tears. " He' s never been this way before. I' ve been with him when he' s bone- tired, halfdead, pushed far beyond the limits of human endurance, and never has Lan acted that way toward me."

" Forget him, Inyx. Come with me. We can walk the Road together. This isn' t the life for you," Ducasien said earnestly. " What does it matter if Claybore conquers or not? Will things change so much? We can find a backwater world, peaceful, away from the centers of power. He' d never bother us there."

Krek saw Inyx wavering. The offer tempted her greatly. And it appealed to the spider, also. This continual battling across worlds took its toll on him. He wanted nothing more than to return to his web and his mate, even if dear Klawn might try to eat him.

" I feel friend Ducasien has made a good case for our doing just as he recommends," said Krek. " Lan Martak is obsessed with victory over Claybore. Is victory such a needful thing?"

Inyx stared at the spider and slowly shook her head.

" Lan knows more than we do. He senses the evil Claybore brings more clearly than anyone else can. And we' ve got to support him. I don' t know what' s gotten into him, but we can' t just walk out on him. Not when he needs us more than ever."

" We have been through much with him," agreed Krek. " The war for the iron tongue resting within his mouth was a costly one." The arachnid stopped speaking for a moment, then added, " Is it possible he is infected by Claybore' s spirit through that tongue?"

" Who can say? When Lan first used it, he claimed he was more powerful. I think his behavior is sparked by something more than his own abilities. Perhaps it is the tongue' s doing."

" He certainly isn' t doing it to protect you," said Ducasien.

" Danger has been at our side ever since we' ve been together," Inyx said. She smiled up at Krek. " He rescued me from the whiteness between worlds. Another would have left me."

" I wouldn' t have," said Ducasien.

" Friend Ducasien, you would have been unable to reach her," said Krek. " The magics involved were the most complex Claybore was capable of invoking. Only a mage of Lan Martak' s caliber could have been successful."

" I' d have died trying," Ducasien maintained.

" Thank you," said Inyx. " I appreciate that. But Lan did rescue me. And not just that one time. We' ve been through much. Turning away now is difficult, no matter how he acts."

" Let us go and ponder this further," suggested Krek. " Another course of action might suggest itself." The spider and Inyx started off, Ducasien remaining behind. Krek stopped and twisted in an inhuman fashion to look under and behind his huge body. " Please come with us, friend Ducasien. Your experience will be most valuable."

Ducasien hesitated, then joined the pair. This time Inyx did not flinch away when Ducasien put his arm around her shoulders. Her own arm circled his waist and off they went, talking in low, confidential tones of what their best strategy might be.

" It' s got to be here. It must be!" raged Lan Martak. Anger rose and he clapped hands together to form a thunderbolt that almost deafened Kiska k' Adesina. She kept her hands over ears until it was obvious the mage' s wrath had abated slightly.

" Lirory kept his diaries in code," she said. " The code might take months to decipher."

" I' ve read his books," said Lan in disgust. " The code depended on a simple magical combination obvious to even an apprentice. The information is not written down."

" Perhaps he carried it within his head," she said.

" I can' t dismiss that as a possibility," Lan said. He stalked back and forth across the room, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. " The legs are near but I won' t go after them until I have a way of using them. What did Lirory have in mind for them?"

" If Claybore knows where his legs are, also, why hasn' t he already tried to retrieve them?" The brunette gingerly sat on the single block remaining of Lirory Tefize' s throne. The power that had welled up and bathed both the gnome and Lan Martak did not come to her. She didn' t know whether to be miffed or relieved.

" Lirory protected them, of that I' m sure. Claybore is cautious. I have already robbed him of his skin and his tongue. To lose his legs would be a blow second to none. He dares not make a mistake now."

" He is close to dominance on all the worlds along the Road," said Kiska.

" Claybore is far from it," Lan contradicted. " The last encounter proves that. I am the stumbling block on his path. His grey legions might swarm and physically seize world after world, but without his magic to back them, they are nothing. I can defeat them all with a wave of my hand."

To demonstrate Lan lifted his arm and fire flickered from his fingertips. Then alternate fingertips froze solid while the others blazed with wild witchfire. He jerked his hand in a small circle and sent a ball of light burning through the rock vault of Lirory' s chamber and up through the mountain until it ripped apart the sky itself.

" You are a mighty mage," said Kiska. Even as she spoke, the loathing for what she did built within her. The woman struggled to keep from puking. In a dim fashion she understood Claybore used her against Martak, but this role did not suit her well. Playing the toady to the man who had killed her husband revolted her. She would be more at home driving a barbed shaft into Martak' s guts, then twisting until the entrails billowed forth.

How long would they be, she wondered. Long enough to string around the room? Would this appease her intense hatred for the man? Kiska k' Adesina wanted to find out. It might even be possible to rip his intestines from his belly and let him linger.

Martak had killed her husband with a single sword thrust. His own death would not be so easy.

Damn Claybore for what he did to her! The geas binding Martak bound her, as well.

Lan turned and looked at her, his expression softening. She made a small gesture beckoning him to her side. To her disgust he came like a lovesick puppy dog.

" I need you so," Lan said. " To think I tried to kill you so many times. That' s all so unreal to me. A nightmare."

" You are the greatest man in all the universe," she whispered. Kiska longed for him to be closer, to take her in his arms, to make love to her. And then, at the precise moment of climax, she would drive a dagger into his back. Then would her revenge be sweet.

" The others don' t understand the strain I am under. Krek demands attention all the time. He: he' s not human. He can' t understand what it' s like seeing evil such as Claybore' s loose in the world."

" And your Inyx?" Kiska almost hissed. What she' d do to that bitch made her revenge on Lan Martak seem pale in comparison. There would be mismatings with a dozen ferocious animals on a hundred barbaric worlds before she allowed Inyx to die.

" I don' t know what' s got into her. She seems so distant now. We had a rapport I can' t explain. Our thoughts were as one- but that was before we came onto this world."

" The fog?" suggested Kiska.

" That might have something to do with it. Or it might be something else." Bitterness came to Lan Martak.

" Ducasien," Kiska said, striking the soft spot in Martak' s heart. She sensed his jealousy of the man from Inyx' s home world and played on it. His anguish thrilled her even if she did not allow it to be mirrored on her face.

" What does she see in him?" he wondered aloud.

" There is definite love for him," goaded Kiska. " The pair of them have been intimate."

The man' s expression told her she traveled unsafe territory. No matter how potent Claybore' s magical workings, the power over Lan Martak was not complete.

" She loves me."

" Who couldn' t?" asked Kiska, stroking Lan' s cheek. The man pulled away, hesitated, turned back to her. Every use of magic on his part strengthened the spell binding the two of them together. Kiska saw that Lan became less and less aware of Claybore' s intrusion in this matter, another manifestation of the spell.

Even she found it increasingly difficult to remember the few things Claybore had told her before sending her forth. A dagger at the enemy' s back, Claybore had said. A chance for revenge, he' d said. Kiska k' Adesina hadn' t questioned her master; she was too good a soldier for that. She did not care for this form of warfare, but if it gained her ends, so be it.

Lan Martak would die at her hand. Claybore had promised that. She held on grimly to that single thought.

" The legs," Lan said suddenly. " Why can' t I grasp their importance, their use?"

" Rest, my darling," Kiska said, sickened by her honeyed words. " Rest and it will all come to you. You overwork yourself. Tired, you can' t hope to win. Rest, sleep, sleep, yes, sleep."

She cradled his head and held it close. Muscles in her upper arms twitched spasmodically as she fought down the urge to place one hand on the man' s chin and another on the top of his head and jerk as hard as she could. That might break his neck.

It might also fail.

Her time would come. Soon. Claybore promised it. Soon.