World of Mazes

CHAPTER THREE

For a moment, Inyx and the soldiers stood staring at one another in disbelief. They hadn' t drawn their weapons, and she was too surprised to move. She recovered her wits first.

Diving, twisting, she succeeded in getting past the one closest to her. His powerful hands grabbed and caught the fabric of her tunic, but his grip and her determination to leave were stronger than the cloth. It ripped, leaving him holding only a swath of useless cloth. Boots scuffled in the dust and she heard the soldiers' growing confusion. She had a chance. As she ran for the shelter of the pine trees nearby, she pulled her sword.

" Who is she?" demanded one of the soldiers behind her.

" What difference does it make? We were ordered to stop anyone coming out of this cenotaph. So what if she doesn' t fit the description Silvain gave us? Get her!" The words convinced her that Claybore' s soldiers waited for Lan and Krek, not her. Claybore didn' t know she had been freed from the white limbo between worlds. As Inyx ran for cover, she debated the wisdom of trying to eliminate all the men around the grave. Something gnawed at the fringes of her mind and kept her from turning and challenging them.

She finally found a small hummock behind which to hide. Panting, she slowly controlled her racing heart and got herself under better control. Sword in hand, she waited. The soldiers blundered about in the dark until their leader finally called them back. For a few minutes, nothing happened, then light blazed forth.

One of the soldiers held aloft an iron cage. Trapped inside was a small demon, valiantly blazing and casting light in all directions. Whenever the light began to fade, the soldier holding the cage rapped the bars sharply with a stick.

" Don' t you dare turn off," warned the soldier. " You know what I' ll do to you,"

" Not the buckets of water," moaned the tiny demon. " Please, not that. They put me out for days!"

" Then give us more light!"

The demon obliged. Inyx got her first good look at the men in the band. There remained no doubt that these were more of Claybore' s troops. They wore the same cut of uniform, had the same arcane red sleeve markings indicating rank. Most of all their arrogance marked them. But what struck the woman as odd was the lack of weapons at their belts. None carried a sword, and only one or two had daggers. In place of the more familiar weapon rested small tubes. Inyx knew little about magic but guessed that those cylinders must be formidable, indeed, to replace a razor- sharp longsword.

Glancing around, she studied the lay of the land to get some idea of an escape route. The soldiers still milled about uncertainly. Their leader seemed tossed on the horns of a dilemma. A solitary woman had come through instead of a brown- haired man and a giant spider. Did this make her important to Claybore, or should the troops wait for their designated victims?

She didn' t give their captain time to decide. Moving as quietly as shadow across shadow, Inyx slipped deeper into the forest. The woman relished the feel of earth beneath her feet again, the invigorating scent of pine needles, the feel of sap sticking to her fingers as she lightly touched a rough tree trunk. She almost lost herself to sensation when she detected a small, plaintive cry for help.

Not believing her ears, Inyx moved even more cautiously. Behind, in the depths of the forest, she heard the grey- clad soldiers blundering about. They had little training for this type of tracking. She wondered at that, just as she wondered at their odd weapons.

" Help me, oh, please, some kind, generous Samaritan, help me!"

She edged around a large- boled tree and stared in disbelief into a small clearing. A metallic vessel of a type she' d never before seen rested in the center. The voice came not from the compartment in front but from the rear portion. In spite of her need for caution, Inyx found herself more curious than careful. She advanced.

" Who' s there?" came the immediate response, suspicious, terse. " Who is it?"

" My name is Inyx. Does that mean anything to you?" The woman figured that Claybore already knew her; giving her name now meant nothing. She had never believed in magics requiring a name to act.

" No, can' t say that it does. Will you release me? Those fiends! They' ve kept me in here for years. I mean, positively, for years."

" Where are you?" She looked around the oddity and finally scratched her head in bemusement. She had no idea at all what she' d found. Inyx poked the side of the hull with her sword. Definitely metal. A small door swung away to allow someone to enter the compartment, but why anyone desired that course was beyond her. Only a simple, uncomfortable wooden seat and a single stick protruding from the floor were visible in the tiny iron cell.

" In the back, of course."

She looked. To the rear of the craft was a door with an elaborate lock on it. Inyx had seen similar devices before. This not only mechanically barred entry, it magically barred exit. Whatever was trapped in the metal hull needed more than simple physical bonds.

" You' re a demon," she accused. " They' ve trapped you inside for a reason."

" A reason, yes," came the baleful reply. " They misuse me so! I simply cannot stand another instant of this durance vile. I' ll go insane, quite insane, I tell you."

Inyx peered into a small port drilled through the door. Less than an inch away, peering back at her, was a large bloodshot eye with catlike slitted pupils. She straightened, then peeked back inside. The demon had moved away, allowing a clearer view. The magically trapped creature hunkered down on scaly haunches. She estimated its total size to be less than six inches from the spiked tip of its pointy head to the taloned claws on its lizard feet. A forked tongue slithered out, only to sneak back between black lips. Tiny hands gestured frantically.

" Help me escape. They are so cruel to me."

Inyx had some experience with such creatures in her wanderings along the Cenotaph Road and knew better than to believe anything the demon said. Once released, this tiny, insignificant demon might sprout to a hundred times its current size. Without knowing the nature of the spell binding it inside, she dared not meddle.

" Why do they imprison you?"

" To do their bidding."

" Which is?"

" Operate this craft, of course. Isn' t that simply dreadful? They abuse and overwork me. I mean, it' s worse than shovelling shit in the fiery pit, don' t you agree?"

" What do you do?"

" They make me spin this." One of the ineffectual hands reached out and touched a vertical shaft fitted with ribbed vanes. " It' s hard work for one my size."

" You must be very powerful," she said, still not understanding what the demon actually did.

" Very. I' ve been trapped here, against my will, mind you, for almost forty years. And all so they can have their fun. It' s enough to drive me over the edge, it really is."

" Show me what you do. Maybe I can think of something to aid you."

" You will? You' ll help me get away from them? They are ever so mean, you know."

Inyx watched through the tiny port as the demon began spinning the shaft. Slowly at first, it turned the shaft. Huffing and puffing noxious fumes, it worked the shaft faster and faster. A whining sound filled the air. Startled, Inyx looked up. Four metal blades had unfurled from the rotor protruding from the top of the hull. They snapped out longer than two of her strides and began spinning. The tiny wind whipping at her dark hair grew into a tornado.

" Get in. I' ll take you away from here. Then you can release me," said the demon. " I hear them returning. I just know I' m not making a mistake trusting you. You look like such a dear, sweet person. You won' t fail me, will you?"

" Get in?" asked Inyx. " But:" the sound of the soldiers tramping through the dry underbrush finally reached her less sensitive ears. The demon had given her ample warning to run. With the forest- lore shown already by the soldiers, she' d have no trouble eluding them, perhaps succeeding in reducing their rank in the process.

But the lure of curiosity egged her on to do something foolish. She jumped into the cramped front compartment and slammed shut the transparent door.

" The stick. Take the stick and put it between your legs, dear lady." The demon tittered as it spoke.

Glaring, Inyx did as she was told. Immediately, the craft lifted. She screamed at the sensation of rising so precipitously. Clutching frantically at the stick with both hands, she pulled it toward her in a naive attempt to correct what she saw as a problem. The craft lurched and the nose turned up to face the grey light of dawn.

" Down!" screamed the demon from behind her. " Keep the damned nose level!"

Inyx controlled her fear to obey. The demon' s advice proved just the thing to quiet her fear. As long as she maintained a relative equilibrium, the craft didn' t flutter up and down like a butterfly or swing from side to side.

" They don' t have many like this one left," the demon said proudly. " All the sorcerers have left Dicca. Can' t stand that scum, our dear, elected Lord of the Twistings."

" Lord of the Twistings?"

" You aren' t from around here, are you, sweetie?" asked the demon. Its tone changed slightly. Inyx tensed.

" What difference does that make? I' m still your best bet for freedom."

" True. But where are you from? Not that dreary island of Sala Tria. I had to fly out there once. Some bigshot convention of leaders. The Lord of the Twistings was positively rude to so many of them. Why they took it from that wimp, I' ll never know. Just because he can:"

" Can what?"

" Never mind that."

" Take me to Dicca," Inyx commanded. " Then I' ll see about getting you out of that compartment."

" Dicca? You really want to go to Dicca?"

" Why not? Anything wrong with going there?"

" No, no," the demon said hastily. " It' s one of my all- time forever favorite spots." Inyx wondered what was wrong with the city, if Dicca actually was a city.

" Because that' s where the sorcerers imprisoned you?"

" That was a long time ago. This isn' t my first fluttercraft assignment. I' ve worn out a couple." Inyx peered into a small hole directly above her right shoulder. She got another view of the demon dutifully twisting the rotor that kept the blades spinning outside at a speed fast enough to force air down and keep the craft aloft. Tiny bands of steel muscle stood out on the demon' s forearms and shoulders. The immense strength shown convinced her against ever letting it free. Such power turned easily.

" Tell me about Dicca. Why have all the sorcerers left it?"

" Those smelly grey- clad soldiers, why else do you think? They barge in and take over. Some sorcerer with more balls than any of those around Dicca is backing them, you can count on it. He' s got all the local talent scared so much they pee pink."

" Claybore?"

" Might be. Haven' t heard that name. I know that it was Nnamdilo who locked me up for the first time. When I get out of this chamberpot, I' m going to-"

" Keep up speed," ordered Inyx. The demon' s momentary lapse into describing what it would do to its jailer had permitted a slackening in airspeed. She felt the fluttercraft hesitate slightly and begin to lose altitude. They were only a few feet over the tallest of the trees. Any lower spelled a nasty collision with the upper branches.

Experimenting, Inyx pulled back on the stick. The craft nosed up. She levelled out at a safer altitude.

" You handle this like you were born to it," said the demon. " You' re not lying to me, are you, sweetie? You will let me go when we reach Dicca?"

" Why shouldn' t I?"

" You might be one of them. All they do is lie. Promises mean nothing, I can tell you."

" Dicca and freedom," Inyx said firmly.

" Freedom!" screamed the demon. The fluttercraft' s speed picked up even more. Inyx watched the creature bend its diminutive back to the task of spinning the shaft. The whomp- whomp- whomp of the blades above gave her a headache, but she had to admit this mode of travel was far superior to walking. Even better, she left Claybore' s soldiers far behind.

" What a majestic city!" she exclaimed. The demon gave her an aerial tour of Dicca. They circumnavigated the boundaries, then worked inward in an ever- decreasing spiral. They passed over all but the palace in the center of the city.

" Nice, if you like:" The demon stopped in mid- sentence.

" Like what?"

" Like all those people," it finished lamely. Inyx wasn' t fooled for a moment. The demon had started to say something else and had held back. They were sneaky beasts, but no more so than many humans she' d found in her walkings along the Road.

" Land me in a good place," she said, wondering where that might be. The city streets were often narrow and twisting. Maybe that lack of forethought on the city designer' s part gave the title to the king or mayor or whatever function the Lord of the Twistings fulfilled.

" Dear lady, the park is where you want to go. Plenty of open spaces, green grass, the sky above, none of those piles of donkey dump to get in your way-"

" No travelogue, just a landing," she said. Inyx was more used to outdoors. Travelling in the cramped forward compartment of the fluttercraft made her feel a bit claustrophobic. Nothing she couldn' t handle, but she wished for nothing more than open spaces again- and an end to the demon' s incessant chattering.

" You' re beginning to sound more and more like them," the demon said acerbically.

" Land."

The landing proved more of a crash. The demon simply stopped turning the rotor and allowed the fluttercraft to fall from an altitude of twenty feet. Inyx found herself bouncing around in the compartment like a pea in the hold of a storm- wracked ocean freighter. Hanging on to the control stick, she managed to keep from pitching forward through the front window. When the craft came to a final, slumping halt, she popped out, glad to be alive.

" Release me," came the plaintive cry from the rear. " I' ve done what you wanted, sweetie. Now keep your promise."

" I never promised," she said. Brushing a strand of jet- black hair back from her forehead, she considered her options. Simply leaving the demon imprisoned seemed the safest course. It might turn on her out of spite. They weren' t noted for loyalty, at the least the ones she' d come across weren' t. Still, she had led the creature to believe she would release it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gruff voice demanding, " Where' s your spittin' landin' permit?"

Inyx turned to face a big- boned woman with stringy, bleachedblonde hair. The tattered dress only partially hid liver- spotted skin along the shoulders and upper arms and a few festering sores on bulging breasts. The woman wiped her nose along a flabby left forearm, then repeated her question.

" High and mighty, where' s the landin' permit? You got one, ain' tcha?"

" Permit?"

" Dammit, another' un who thinks she' s better' n the common folk." The burly woman spat a green gob that landed a few inches in front of Inyx' s boots. She seemed to take no notice when Inyx half drew her sword. " I gotta keep the order ' round here, ain' t I?"

" Let me out!" cried the demon.

" You promisin' something you can' t deliver, big' uns?" the woman demanded of Inyx, eyeing her as if she were a slab of meat hanging on a butcher' s hook. " Those real or did you get some love- besotted mage to grow ' em for ya?"

" Where do I get the landing permit?"

The woman hunched forward slightly and squinted at Inyx before answering.

" Take care of it for a fiver," she said.

" She' s a thief!" called out the demon. " Landing fees are never more than a halver."

" I' ve got to get the money. From a friend. In the city."

" Humph," growled the woman, spitting again, " I just bet you gotta lot of friends. One every spittin' five minutes, I betcha. Don' t care where you get the money- or how. Just get it and the permit. Till then, I watch over the fluttercraft."

" No!" protested the demon.

" All right," agreed Inyx.

" Let me out!"

" I' ll be back within a half- hour," she told the burly woman.

" Don' t go bruisin' that fine backside of yours hurryin' your friends along." The woman laughed at her crude comment. She again ignored Inyx' s motion to draw her sword. Inyx relaxed and turned for the small footpath leading toward the nearest portion of tall buildings marking the perimeter of Dicca.

" No, I won' t do it!" Inyx heard the demon exclaim. " She promised me!"

Inyx hadn' t gone fifty feet when she heard the blades of the fluttercraft begin to whine and bite the air. The craft rose quickly and headed in the opposite direction. It was about what she' d expected. The obese woman may have been ignorant of soap, but she knew a great deal about thievery. She' d stolen the fluttercraft.

Inyx had to laugh. She' d taken care of two problems. The soldiers, if they pursued, might be led away by the other woman' s theft. And it no longer was within her power to release the demon. She hadn' t actually lied to it, after all.

She started down the path into Dicca. She had gone less than ten yards when she heard a low, deep- throated snarl. Spinning, Inyx faced one of the largest, hungriest- looking tigers she' d ever seen.

It advanced on her, fangs dripping in anticipation of a fine meal.