The Sorcerer_s Skull

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

" I' ll bleed to death."

Not even this dire prediction brought Abasi- Abi from his trance. The sorcerer sat cross- legged on the mirrored plane, his eyes focused on infinity. His chest hardly moved to indicate life. Lan lifted one arm and found it totally limp. When he released it, the arm dropped heavily back into the mage' s lap.

" How long' s he been like this?"

" Since you left to do battle with yourself," answered Krek. " And you are not really bleeding to death, are you? This is just a human ploy?"

" Thought I' d shock him into responding."

" He has been shocked into his own world."

" Morto," said Lan, " you know him as well as anyone. Is he in any danger?"

" We all are. From Claybore."

" Are you an apprentice?" The vehement head shake told Lan the last thing in the world the man wanted was to be a sorcerer. He' d seen the glories- and the horrors- perpetrated by mages and wanted no part of them. But he did continue to serve Abasi- Abi. Lan asked, " Well, then, what are you to him?"

" His son."

" I didn' t think sorcerers had time for such things."

" I was something of an accident, before he became so powerful. I' ve always been an embarrassment to him."

" You seem little more than a servant."

" He treats me that way to always let me know how unwanted I am."

" Why not leave him?"

The man' s eyes showed the first spark of animation Lan had seen. Before, Morto had been little more than a whipped serving boy.

" His goal is vital. I must aid him. I must!"

" You want the Kinetic Sphere. I want the Kinetic Sphere. Everyone wants it."

" You babble on about the Kinetic Sphere. It' s a trinket, of no importance. My father battles Claybore to prevent recovery of more potent talismans."

" More potent?" Lan studied the plain with his magic sensing and " felt" nothing. " What is it?"

" If he hasn' t told you," Morto said, indicating his entranced father, " I cannot. This I will tell you, Claybore must never regain it."

" We' re talking at cross- purposes, but one thing we' re all agreed upon. That stone hut is our goal."

" Contains our goal," corrected Morto.

Lan turned and walked a short distance out, thinking. He had the most unlikely assortment of men imaginable for this quest. One wasn' t even a man, by the strictest anatomical definition. Krek dropped in the midst of his eight legs, one still slightly stiff, and simply sat, thinking his imponderable spiderish thoughts. Abasi- Abi floated in his trance, whether doing sorcerous battle with Claybore on some plane undetectable by Lan or simply mustering his forces, Lan couldn' t tell. Morto busied himself preparing food, more to keep his hands occupied than to feed anyone. He was a pathetic figure, caught between trying to please an antagonistic father and trying to live his own life and fulfill his own goals. And Ehznoll had discovered his paradise, had completed his holy pilgrimage. What he found on this peculiar mountaintop Lan didn' t know, but the man prayed fervently, a vision of divinity.

Just a few yards away stood the stone building containing the Kinetic Sphere. Lan " saw" it blazing, so potent was its trapped power. With it he could free Inyx, and together they' d go exploring the endless wonders of the worlds along the Cenotaph Road.

The problem: getting into the stone hut. The solution: Lan Martak didn' t know.

The sun arced up and began to drop. Throughout the day Lan hadn' t come up with any clever method of getting past the mirrored guardians and into the hut. As the weakening rays began to bathe the top of Mount Tartanius in a bloody twilight, he broke the day- long silence and spoke to Krek.

" Without light there isn' t any reflection."

" How profound."

" Don' t be sarcastic. As soon as the sun sets, I' ll try again. The images won' t have enough light to form, and I can go right in."

" Do you think it will be so easy?" The arachnid shifted his bulk, favoring the stiff leg. Lan examined it, decided all had been done that could be, and turned his attention back to their goal.

" I doubt it. But it seems logical."

" That is the problem. It is too easy an answer. The mage building this shrine controlled vast energies. I doubt he overlooked protecting his creation for half of every day."

Lan had to agree, yet what else could he do? Abasi- Abi continued in his trance, and Ehznoll prayed even more vocally than before. The night was his avowed enemy; his prayers drove away the darkening sky and put him more closely in tune with his precious dirt. Even worse, to Lan' s mind, was the occasional mention in those prayers of Claybore. Ehznoll still looked on his vision as revelation; Claybore had been in the vision, therefore the decapitated sorcerer had to be a god.

Lan wondered if those prayers might actually attract Claybore. Then he pushed such nonsense from his mind. At worst, Claybore knew they' d arrived atop the mountain before him. He already knew what lay waiting here.

" The reflection might be weaker, if not entirely gone," Lan said, more to convince himself than to argue with Krek. " I' m rested now. My cuts are bandaged. Weak light, weak mirror- warrior."

" Yes."

Lan' s temper rose at Krek' s innocent tone, but he knew better than to answer. He had to direct his anger outward, at the spells guarding the hut. His magic sense detected no ward spells at all. The sorcerer protecting this plain had been both subtle and strong. Even if he hadn' t been, the magical emanations from the world- shifting Kinetic Sphere blanketed most wards.

Lan drew his sword and strode out, appearing more confident than he felt. Behind him Ehznoll prayed, the words following him.

" Sweet earth, protect your disciples, give us the strength to return to your opened arms:"

The last thing Lan wanted to consider now was returning to the earth- ready for a grave.

Fifteen feet from the building popped up the first barrier. Lan reacted instantly, his sword swinging. He cracked the wall; pieces tinkled to the plain, but the image remained. Lan moved to one side. The image followed. While his theory that the reflections would be weaker had been correct, he had neglected to consider one detail.

He still fought his own image, but now the features were in shadow, blurred, vague. He fought little more than his own shadow. And that shadow carried a sword all too substantial.

The first overhead blow from the shadow image drove him to his knees. The shadow followed, steely glints showing off blade and belt. Both on their knees, Lan and his reflection fought. The image knew his every move and countered. The longer they fought, the more initiative the reflection took, feinting, slipping razor- sharp edges past his guard, even kicking out with an all- too- substantial boot to land on his shins. When he tried the same trick, his foot found only: air.

Lan Martak retreated. The reflection matched his best and added tricks of its own. He fought himself and lost.

Slipping on the glassy plain, now dappled with his own blood, the man reached the spot where Krek awaited.

" You were right, old spider," he said. " It didn' t work."

The spider shivered, his equivalent of a shrug, and said, " I find myself with no better idea. There is naught to string a web from and swing in. Burrowing through this glassy floor is out of the question. Can you not find a proper spell and counter the reflections?"

" I' m no sorcerer, in spite of what Abasi- Abi says."

" I overheard. You' ve met Claybore and bested him."

" I haven' t bested him. All I' ve done is hold him back. There' s a difference. And I don' t even know how I did it. Whatever spells I used, I can' t remember."

" A natural talent," said Krek, his voice gusting out in a tired sigh.

" If only Abasi- Abi weren' t lost in his trance."

" But he is," said Krek. " I see I shall have to give this more thought. Much more. I am sure there is a way in. Why else build a shrine?"

" Would Ehznoll know the answer?"

" His prayers have gone unanswered. This is a case where spiderish superiority will manifest itself, I am sure."

Krek settled back down, his dish- sized dun- colored eyes softly contemplating the distant stone building. Lan didn' t interrupt his friend' s peculiar thought processes. At the moment he didn' t care who figured out the way in, as long as they got in to recover the Kinetic Sphere. With every passing second, Lan Martak felt the increasing pressure.

Claybore came.

Bright shafts of sunlight broke the sky apart. Lan yawned and stretched, still cold and stiff from the night spent sleeping on the plain. He hadn' t dreamed, of Claybore, of Inyx, of anything. That worried him. He' d hoped for a clue from Claybore as to the key for gaining entry. He knew the sorcerer neared; his path up the mountain had been slower. But the mage held himself back, probably to deny Lan the slightest of hints concerning the spells guarding the shrine.

Krek still gazed at the building, Abasi- Abi still gazed inward, Morto fixed still another meal, and Lan still felt the need for action.

" Krek, I' m going to try a spell."

" What? What spell is this?"

" I only know a few. Some healing spells and a pyromancy spell. In spite of what Claybore and Abasi- Abi say, I don' t know any others."

" You can' t control the others," corrected the arachnid.

" Very well. I have no conscious control. But over these, I do. I see no way of using the healing chants, so it has to be the firestarting spell."

" How will you use it?"

" It might disperse the reflections. A bright light in front of a mirror washes out less intense images."

" I have an idea of my own."

" Good for you. I' m going to get as close as I can, up to the point where my image appears, then try the fire spell."

" I believe we can walk up without any problem."

" What?" Lan finally heard what the spider was saying.

" Just walk past the reflection."

" The years swinging in your web have finally addled your brains. You' ve seen what happened when I tried. No, I' m going to see if I can' t overwhelm the reflection and get through. Stay here."

" Your way won' t work."

" We' ll see about that." Feeling challenged, Lan walked quickly across the slick glass plain. His reflection appeared at the same place it had before. He kept his sword sheathed; so did the reflection.

Lan held up his left hand, fingers spread. Tiny blue sparks jumped from fingertip to fingertip. He concentrated on the spell, building it, making it more and more potent. His mind felt as if it slipped slightly, accepting the spell, yet rejecting it at the same time. Lan glanced up once to the image; it duplicated his actions. Fat blue sparks jumped from one finger to the other.

He thought the sparks less potent, though. He returned to his own pyromancy.

His control slipped as the heat mounted and the sparks leaped forth. Heavy garlic odor filled the air as the sizzling gouts jumped further and further from his hands. Lan felt as if his brain burned along with his hand. Never had he tried to consciously control so strong a force. He settled himself and felt renewed power possess him.

He' d doubted before he was a mage of any ranking. Now he knew differently. The confrontations with Claybore, the journey through the whiteness between worlds, the continual use of his magics and the growing scope of them, all fed his confidence and strength.

" Burn!" he cried. Flames exploded from his hand and blasted thirty feet into the air.

For a moment he was so taken by the accomplishment he forgot that it had been intended only to overwhelm the reflection- warrior. Lan turned his gaze downward from the top of the fiery column to his image, expecting it to have vanished.

It hadn' t.

The reflection hurled a column of its own skyward. Lan chanced a step closer. The heat from both his and the image' s pyromancy almost melted him. He felt blisters popping out on his face. His lips chapped and began to char. His eyebrows and hair singed.

Again, he retreated, vanquished by a reflection. He allowed the fire to die down into guttering ruin. Dropping to hands and knees, he felt like crying, but the intense heat had dried skin and eyes to the point where nothing came.

" I failed. I failed!" he moaned over and over.

" May I try, now that you' ve had your fun?"

" Fun, damn you, Krek, how can you say this is fun?" Lan held up his fire- blackened hands.

" You humans engage in totally pointless ventures. No amount of playing with fire strikes me as worthwhile." The arachnid shuddered at the thought of fire running up and down his furry legs, then turned and walked off across the plain, his taloned claws making clickclick- click sounds as he walked.

Lan got to his feet. The pain he felt was minimal; he' d get some small measure of pleasure seeing the spider fail. The arachnid simply didn' t understand what he faced. When he came to his own reflection, that would be it. And Lan would laugh.

Krek continued walking forward when his image appeared. The image grew in size as Krek got closer and closer. Lan found himself holding his breath. He let out a shriek of pure joy when he saw what happened.

" You' re through, Krek, you walked right on through the image!"

The spider stood at the doorway leading into the stone building.

" Of course," he said, as if he' d been certain of success from the start. Lan hesitated. Maybe the spider had been sure.

" But how? What did you do? Some spell?"

" I reasoned it through. The builder of this shrine wanted people kept out. But not all people. Why construct a shrine no one can enter? Therefore, there has to be some criterion for entry. The builder obviously does not like those bearing arms. I composed my thoughts and did not think warlike thoughts. I simply walked in."

" Let' s see if it really works." Lan cast aside his sword and knife. He took a second to settle his turbulent mind and cast off intentions of fighting to gain entry. Emotions still high, he advanced.

Fear, uncertainty, panic all assailed him when his image appeared. He had done battle with himself and lost.

This time there would be no battle. He came to enter the shrine, not to fight to gain entry. His mind turned from warlike thoughts to more tranquil ones. He desired entry into the shrine. He meant no harm. His intentions were peaceful.

He walked forward. The reflection advanced until they were nose to nose. Lan calmed himself still more and took still another step- past the image.

" I made it, too!"

" Naturally," said the spider, sniffing haughtily. " I told you it would work."

Lan hurried forward, then stopped at the door. His magic sensing ability burned like a star in the night. He " felt" and " saw" the Kinetic Sphere within.

" It' s here, Krek. We beat Claybore to it."

He straightened, pulled back his shoulders, and went in to reclaim the magical device that would solve all their problems.