World of Mazes

CHAPTER FIVE

" Oh, woe, why must I be such a weakling? A craven, that is all I am," lamented Krek. The giant spider walked in the center of a ring of twelve soldiers. They eyed him with a combination of fear and awe. Lan Martak guessed that creatures the size of Krek didn' t exist on this world- or if they did, they weren' t inclined to talk and berate themselves.

" It wasn' t anyone' s fault, Krek," he said. " The howler spotted us and guided the soldiers in."

" I could have fought. Oh, the horror of it. Krek- k' withkritklik, Webmaster of the Egrii Mountains, has fallen on such hard times. And all because I am so cowardly." Lan said nothing. He' d seen his friend in moods like this before. Absolutely nothing but time got him out of them. " Who am I to even breathe the name of Webmaster? I, who have shamed myself in the eyes of all my hatchlings? Lovely little Klawn knows me for what I am. A coward. I can never again hold up my head."

Lan involuntarily shivered when Krek mentioned his mate' s name. Krek was enormous; " lovely little Klawn" was even larger. She and the giant spider had mated, then Krek had left the web before being ritualistically eaten by her. Choosing the Cenotaph Road over being devoured seemed to Lan a reasonable choice. For Krek, it went against all his race' s mores and genetically inbred behavior patterns. Somewhere, perhaps even on this world, Klawn followed along the Road, still seeking her mate to finalize the nuptials. Lan didn' t want to share even the same continent with that love- crazed female.

" And if that were not enough, in the Suzerain' s care I slaughtered helpless innocents. With these I slaughtered them!" Krek clashed together his mandibles. The noise echoed across still forests. The soldiers guarding him jumped in alarm, their hands reaching automatically for the tubes they carried at their sides.

Lan frowned when he saw this reaction. He' d guessed those were weapons of some sort. But what type? While his magic sense required much more honing, it didn' t give the slightest twinge when he studied those tubes. Rather than magic, they utilized mechanical principles, much like the robotic servants encountered on the world he and Krek had just vacated.

He had no " feel" of magic being used by any of the men. If anything, they relied too heavily on the ordinary world around them. His ears turned toward the leader as he grumbled about having to walk.

" If she hadn' t stolen our fluttercraft:" was all Lan overheard. But hope surged. She the captain had said. Lan had no idea what a fluttercraft was, but the she had to mean Inyx.

It had to!

" You mean we' re walking because Inyx robbed you?" Lan called out to the officer in charge.

" What? You know her?" came the immediate question.

" Captain, the spider," complained one of the guards. Krek had dropped into a forlorn lump in the middle of the road, refusing to go on. He wept, tears staining the areas under his dun- colored eyes and eventually dripping onto his furred legs and matting them. This, for the spider, was the ultimate in degradation.

" Halt!" ordered the leader. To Lan he said, " Get the bug moving again or we move it for you."

" He' s not a bug," said Lan, indignant. " He' s an intelligent being. More so than you, I can see."

The captain pulled forth his tube and aimed it directly at Lan' s midsection. Not knowing what the device did made Lan more uneasy than if he' d possessed intimate knowledge of its workings. On his home world those entrusted with law enforcement sometimes used wheel lock pistols. Those were cranky, delicate, and not very accurate, yet they killed at a considerable range. While he didn' t see any clockwork firing mechanism on the sides of the soldiers' weapons, he guessed they, too, had the ability to kill at a distance.

When Lan didn' t properly respond, the soldier slowly swung his cylinder in an arc until it pointed at Krek. At the last possible moment before pressing an inset firing button, the captain lowered his aim. A finger- thick beam of intense light speared forth and vaporized the dirt just under Krek' s back legs.

Startled and frightened, the spider leaped straight up into the air. For an instant, Lan stood open- mouthed and gaping, just like the soldiers. Krek had become airborne, his eight coppery legs spread from his body like a furry pinwheel. He landed with a heavy thud, whirling to face the captain of the guard.

" Never do that to me again," the spider raged. " You could have set my fur on fire!"

" I' ll do more than that if you don' t get your bulky carcass moving. It' s a long way into Dicca. Silvain' ll have my head on a spike for taking so long, as it is."

" Silvain?" asked Lan quietly.

" Shut up and get moving." This time the imperious gesture with the tube got both Lan and Krek trotting along.

Close enough to carry on a low- whispered conversation, Lan asked his friend, " Have you ever seen the likes of their weapons before?"

" Never," said Krek. " Nor have I heard of worlds where such are possible. Do they hide little fire elementals in each weapon? It seems a magical chore hardly worth accomplishing."

" It' s not done magically," Lan said. " I don' t ' see' any spells being used."

" One little book and the boy thinks he is a master sorcerer," scoffed Krek.

" I know what I know," said Lan defensively. " However they produce the light beam, it' s not done magically. This world is more advanced technologically, but I think I can get around that with a few well- chosen spells."

" Make me invisible first."

" I don' t know how to do that," said Lan. " I don' t even know if it' s possible."

" I don' t even know if your plan is possible," countered Krek.

They walked in silence for another mile before Lan calmed down enough to speak again.

" Remember how Claybore' s death beams bent around me? I think I can control that spell now. Before, it came to me on a subconscious level. I' ve been working on drawing it to the surface of my mind. I know it will work."

" You try it first. But before you do, what was that I heard about Inyx? You mentioned her name to the grey- clad soldier captain."

" He said a woman had stolen their fluttercraft, whatever that is. Some form of transportation, apparently. I didn' t get any good idea of when this happened, but it explains why they don' t have her as a prisoner."

" Like they do us."

" Krek, we can escape whenever we want. I' m playing along to get information."

" About Dicca, the capital city where the Lord of the Twistings rules supreme?" said the spider in an arrogant tone. " I know all. I hear so much you do not. They take us to Alberto Silvain, Claybore' s commandant on this planet. Or so I surmise. Silvain is the military governor who ordered these miserable wights out to intercept us, I assume he learned of the cenotaph through Claybore' s magics. Silvain is occupied with elections in Dicca. These odd sorting processes you humans use are rigged in this instance, with the Lord of the Twistings the shoo- in favorite because of bought votes and Claybore' s influence."

" What else have you overheard?" asked Lan.

" Nothing."

Lan shook his head. The spider managed to be vexing, even when he didn' t try very hard. Still, with the information they now shared, Lan saw little reason to remain in the custody of the soldiers. They weren' t of the highest caliber. They jumped at their own shadows and knew nothing of woodlore. Claybore' s usual tactic was to bring in a few key officers, then recruit locals for his army. He paid well and offered quick promotions. Such things appealed to the lower types. All the while, they were being exploited and used for interworld conquest.

Lan doubted any of these men realized Claybore' s designs extended across dozens, maybe hundreds of worlds. Alberto Silvain knew, just as Kiska k' Adesina had a world back and Lyk Surepta on Lan' s home world. A privileged, powerful few leading the ignorant, greedy many.

It was a conquest plan that worked all too well.

When the howler screamed across the sky, Lan Martak acted.

The soldiers stopped to gawk. They were natives of this world, but the sight of a howler still meant a special treat for them. Lan jerked to one side, kicked at a kneecap, and felt it crunch, then grabbed. He had regained his sword and dagger. Against the death tubes, these meant little, but he had magic on his side.

" Die, you spitting scum," came the captain' s curse.

Lan' s eyes glazed over as he summoned up all the inner power resting inside him. He remembered the nightmare battles with Claybore when the sorcerer' s skull cast forth the twin ruby death beams. The ruby shafts had parted, bent around Lan' s body. He mentally clutched at that spell now and moulded it for his own use.

The captain fired.

The lambent energy deflected from Lan at the last possible instant. The spell had worked. Barely.

The confusion on the captain' s face told Lan all he needed to know. The weapon had been given to the man with instructions and praise for its invincibility. Now that it had failed, he had no idea what to try next. Lan didn' t give him time to decide. Two quick steps and a swing of the sword sent hand and cylinder rolling.

Clutching his spurting stump, the man screamed in shock and fell into a shallow irrigation ditch, slowly filling the dirt channel with his life' s blood.

" Run!" cried Lan. Many of the soldiers took it as a command- or a convenient reason for leaving the scene of such carnage. Only a few hesitated. One raised his own weapon.

Lan' s mind felt as if it had slipped onto greased glass. He struggled to bring up the proper spells. His concentration had lapsed upon seeing the captain die. There wasn' t any way he could re- form his protective spell in time to be effective. He brought up the blade of his sword in a reflex action.

The death beam squarely struck his shiny sword and reflected away harmlessly. The attacking grey- clad blinked, then aimed again. Lan reflected the beam directly back into the man' s body. He died, his belly a smoky ruin.

" He killed Molok with his own pistol," cried one of the two remaining soldiers.

" AAARRGHHH!" roared Krek, rising up on his eight long legs. His mandibles crashed together like scythes. The soldiers saw death advancing on them, turned, and ran.

" I say," said Krek, " I did not think I was that frightening. I am relieved, though, to have avoided an ugly confrontation. Ever since my days in the arena killing those poor boys and girls, it is difficult for me to get into the spirit."

" You were forced to kill then, Krek. Now you fight to protect yourself- and your friends. Thanks. You certainly saved me."

" That was an interesting trick with your sword. How did you know it would work?"

" Seemed likely," Lan said hurriedly. He didn' t want to let his friend know it was purely accidental that he' d even tried it. " Let' s get moving for Dicca. Unless I miss my guess, Inyx is waiting for us there."

" Probably nice and dry, well fed, and dangling in a wonderful web," said the spider, head bobbing in agreement.