World of Mazes

CHAPTER EIGHT

Inyx become increasingly haggard and gaunt. Reinhardt- Luister len- Larrotti- tried to make her eat, but she refused. She felt like an addict clinging to the image of her dead husband. She needed it for life, yet letting that image into her life destroyed her. Inyx tried to muster enough strength to again attempt escape from Luister lenLarrotti' s Fine Rooms. To no avail. His magics were too strong. Whatever the physical price he paid for such potent magic, he had every opportunity to recoup his strength.

He ate ponderous amounts of food. His sexual appetites, not to mention those of the patrons, kept her exhausted. She got little thrill from making love to her dead husband a dozen times a day, yet Reinhardt' s image still held her in thrall. Inyx knew this was the product of magics; len- Larrotti turned real love into equally real bonds on her.

She' d die soon. But not until the man had made a handsome profit off her.

Inyx had given up crying and merely sat listlessly staring out into Lossal Boulevard at the anxious, lustful faces peering in at her. The man kept up a constant flood of illusion to entice prospective customers. Inyx no longer cared. Her spirit had been beaten down too many times- and over all loomed the illusion of Reinhardt.

She heard voices arguing outside her door. She didn' t care. Odissan had returned, expecting to be denied his money. Luister lenLarrotti had paid. She had earned her captor much. But with Odissan came a new voice, one equally as commanding as the loan arranger' s. That air of haughtiness rang out and brought Inyx from her stupor.

" I want her, Luister. Now."

" Odissan told you about her. He wants my Fine Rooms for himself. I paid that spittin' bastard. You two are in this together."

A thud told Inyx that the visitor had struck len- Larrotti. She doubted the fat man could easily regain his feet. The door to her room opened and, looking past, the scene confirmed her guess. Luister lenLarrotti lay asprawl, his head cocked to one side. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth while red bubbles welled up along his split lip. With one punch her saviour had removed len- Larrotti.

Her eyes left the supine form of her captor and worked upward. The grey cuffs told her what she feared most. By the time she came to the gold stars and red crosses on the man' s sleeves, she knew.

Claybore' s commandant had found her.

" I am Alberto Silvain," he introduced himself. He bowed gracefully from the waist, his dark eyes never leaving her. " It is my privilege to be commander of the guard for this world."

" You' re one of Claybore' s flunkies."

" You might say that. I would say that my position is somewhat elevated from mere flunky, however. I control this world for Claybore. He gives me free rein."

" The Lord of the Twistings rules in Dicca."

" The Lord rules much of this world. It is to him, in fact, that I am taking you. He tires of the long hours spent in campaigning. He desires some little diversion. Word had reached him of Luister lenLarrotti' s Fine Rooms. What a nice idea this is, creating an entire ambience for sexual congress. It had never been tried on this scale before, for whatever reason."

" The locals aren' t too inventive."

" Yes, there is that," he said, nodding in agreement. Inyx took in a deep breath, then released it slowly. Alberto Silvain had just admitted he was not from this world. Like so many of Claybore' s commanders, he had been trained elsewhere, then offered a world. He had walked the Cenotaph Road, also.

" They live in illusion," the dark- haired woman went on. " It blurs their minds and keeps them slaves to the Lord."

Silvain laughed harshly. " That is only part of it."

" You' re taking me to Claybore?"

" Claybore is: elsewhere. I am in complete charge. I feel your presence in the Lord' s court might cement the already great friendship between two great rulers."

" Claybore and the Lord of the Twistings," Inyx said bitterly.

Silvain smiled urbanely and only nodded. He indicated that Inyx was to precede him from the room. She watched carefully for an opening, but Silvain was not only sophisticated in manner and attitude, he was a cautious soldier. He gave her no chance to escape.

Inyx kicked Luister len- Larrotti as hard as she could when she came to his fallen, bloated form. The man grunted, then rolled to protect himself. She jumped when an electric crackling sounded and a beam of lambent radiance touched len- Larrotti. He shrieked, then died, a hole burned completely through his torso. Alberto Silvain snapped the cylinder he held back onto a ring in his belt.

" The Lord awaits you," was all he said.

Inyx lifted her chin and stalked out. Silvain had robbed her of her revenge against Luister len- Larrotti. For that, if nothing else, he would die. She vowed it.

" There aren' t any walls around the palace," she said in wonder. " Doesn' t the Lord of the Twistings fear for his life?"

" Walls are needed only by despots. They can keep you in as much as they keep something else out," observed Silvain. " The Lord has much more powerful allies to guard his palace."

She saw immediately what Silvain meant. While the man' s outward facade never changed, she felt him stiffen slightly as the slavering beasts attacked. Fully twenty feet tall, the creatures waved small, ineffectual hands in front of them. The real horror came in their powerfully muscled jaws. Clacking shut with fearful determination, those knife- edged teeth threatened to rend and rip and dismember.

And the hunger in those beasts' eyes was more than she could take. She involuntarily cringed and stepped back. Silvain moved so that he interposed his body between her and the creatures.

The man laughed, but it wasn' t an easy laugh.

" Those are only illusion."

" I was almost killed by a tiger image in the park. Illusion' s can kill."

" On this world, you are correct," he said. " Do not forget it. The Lord controls these images. If he had not desired your presence, they would have torn you apart."

" Would they have eaten, also?"

" They' re only illusions," he said, shrugging. " If it pleased the Lord to have them dine, they would. Otherwise, he' d tire of their antics and go play elsewhere."

They entered the front doors of the palace. Inyx had seen more opulence and bad taste in designing a ruler' s residence, but never had she seen that opulence shift and change even as she watched. She had the passing sensation that all this was unreal, that if she reached out and grabbed, the jewels would turn to mist and the gold would melt like butter in the noonday sun.

She tried not to be too obvious about watching Alberto Silvain, but every time she glanced in the commandant' s direction, she found him staring back. His bold hazel eyes locked with hers, mocking, teasing, tormenting. If he hadn' t been one of Claybore' s henchmen, Inyx knew she would have found him attractive. As it was, she didn' t even try to estimate the murder and rapine and misery he must have caused to rise to such exalted rank.

A man like Alberto Silvain had killed her Reinhardt.

Inyx turned her attention away and tried to lose her thoughts in studying the palace. While it gave her a moment or two of interest, she found her mind wandering. Mechanical servants, all similar to the park manager Knokno she had found on her first day in Dicca, scurried about, clanking and rattling on their rounds. A few humans loitered, but she saw very few that didn' t have a military bearing. While they did not wear the grey she' d come to associate with Claybore, she guessed these palace hangers- on were more devoted to Alberto Silvain than to the Lord of the Twistings.

" Yes," Silvain said softly. " The Lord has few loyal to him anymore."

" What if I tell him?"

" Go on." Silvain laughed harshly. She wondered what sort of man this Lord of the Twistings might be. Silvain had obvious disdain for him, yet a tiny corner of his courage crumbled when the Lord was mentioned. A contradiction. With luck, she might turn this into a wedge between grey and Lord.

" Commandant Silvain, you are expected," said a mechanical ludicrously dressed only in a wine- red crushed velvet jacket and a perfectly knotted black silk neck scarf. He bowed slightly as Silvain ushered Inyx into the audience room.

At first she thought she' d entered the palace nursery. Toys littered the floor, tiny windup mechanical devices that scurried like metallic rats when set in motion, blocks of all kinds, even stuffed toy animals. Inyx blinked and raised her sight to room- sized transparent cubes. Five of them contained particularly devious mazes through which animals ran. She swallowed hard. The nearest one contained a creature disturbingly human in shape, although the size belied anything more than a distant cousin. Its gaunt face pressed against the inner surface begged her for release. She stepped forward and touched the barrier; it didn' t yield. Inyx rapped it sharply with her knuckles. Only dull echoes sounded.

" It' s unbreakable. Watch." Silvain took out his death tube and pointed it directly at the creature. A lance of fire gushed forth and slithered along the flat surface. " Examine the maze wall," the man ordered.

Inyx touched the spot where the heat had been most intense. Not even a blister marred the surface. Inside, the homunculus shook with silent tears.

" The Lord enjoys constructing these mazes," said Silvain. " He is most adept at it. The laws of the outer world are suspended inside. That was once:"

" The former Lord of the Twistings," came a high- pitched, almost feminine voice. The giggles that followed turned into a twittering that made Inyx very uneasy.

She faced the newcomer. The voice sounded twelve, the body looked four times that. Dressed in a jester' s outfit, the Lord pranced about, posturing and doing small tumbling routines for her amusement. She wasn' t amused. Inyx thought this was some trick that Silvain played on her. This fool couldn' t be the ruler of most of this planet. She started to speak when she saw the expression on Alberto Silvain' s face.

That tiny corner he reserved for fear unravelled into a large spot. He feared the Lord of the Twistings. Mixed in with it came a large portion of disgust, also. That emotion Inyx shared with Claybore' s commandant. To lock up any creature in the glass maze seemed unnecessarily cruel.

" You like my tiny mazes? You should see my big one."

" The Twistings?" she guessed.

" Oh," cried the Lord, clapping his hands, " I was so right in having Alberto bring you here. You are bright. Most of the people I see are stupid."

" Why don' t you let out the:" Inyx turned and indicated the homunculus in the maze. It had already moved on, feeling its way around unseen walls, seeking an exit.

" Let out my predecessor? Oh, no, good lady, that would be silly. It took a great deal of magic to reduce him to that size. Once he was released, I couldn' t watch him blunder around in my maze. Besides, he treated me shabbily when I first arrived in Dicca."

She stared at the man. He had a small spot going bald on the top of his head. The light brown hair had been frosted through with grey and lay back straight from his high domed forehead. Chocolate- colored eyes darted and danced with mischief, the eyes of a small child. In stature, the Lord of the Twistings proved average in every way: height, weight, strength. There seemed little extraordinary about him. Except for one thing.

Alberto Silvain feared him.

That puzzled Inyx more and more. Silvain did not frighten easily. She' d seen his type on any number of worlds. They followed their beliefs to the death, never compromising. In a way, their deaths provided more cenotaphs than any other. They died nobly and usually in some fashion where their handsome bodies weren' t recovered.

And Silvain feared the Lord of the Twistings. Why?

" I have many, many more intricate mazes about. Come and look at them."

" That' s not a suggestion, is it?" she asked. Silvain shook his head. She felt his strong hand in the small of her back, urging her forward. This brief pressure gave her the opening she' d sought since being rescued from Luister len- Larrotti' s Fine Rooms. Inyx moved, turned, caught Silvain' s wrist, and jerked hard. The man cartwheeled in midair, to smash hard into the marble floor. A whooshing noise told her the wind had been knocked from his lungs by the sudden fall. Inyx scooped up the death tube from his belt and stepped back. She pointed it directly at the Lord of the Twistings.

" Oh, what is this?" he asked in a small voice. " She threatens me. Oh, this is rich. It is, it is!"

" No threats. I wanted to warn you about Silvain- and Claybore."

" I know all about them," he said, his eyes sparkling.

" Then you know they' re out to depose you."

" No, no," he said, laughing so hard he had to hold his sides. Bells rattled and the metallic stars on the sleeves of his yellow and red outfit reflected back all the colors of the rainbow as he shook. " You have it all wrong. I use them. They do my every bidding. Without me- and what I possess- they are nothing. Nothing!" He started laughing again.

Inyx frowned. This dolt thought he manipulated Claybore. From what she' d seen of the sorcerer, that wasn' t very likely. Still, Silvain hadn' t shown only contempt for this odd ruler of Dicca.

" Do put away that silly toy. I have ever so many more interesting ones."

" Sorry, Lord, but this is where I leave you. Play with Alberto, if you have to have another victim for your mazes."

" No, I want you, good lady. You' re different from the others. There' s a vitality that won' t let you stop till you' ve worked through my most intricate mazes."

" I' m going," she said firmly. Inyx knew how to deal with children, even ones old enough to have grandchildren.

" No."

Inyx reacted quickly but still moved seconds too late. A thick plate rose between her and the Lord of the Twistings. She spun and tried to run. She smashed headlong into another barrier. In all directions she met resistance. Clinging to the cylinder she' d taken from Silvain, she sought the grey- clad soldier. At least his death might be fact. That' d slow down Claybore' s conquest a little.

Alberto Silvain struggled to sit up- outside the glass barrier.

She fired. Inyx- felt heat billowing up from the point of contact between lambent energy and transparent surface. She stopped firing and examined the wall. It hadn' t been marked. Outside, the Lord of the Twistings helped Silvain to his feet. All the while, the Lord cackled like a rooster and bounced up and down like a child waiting for the spring fairs.

" Isn' t this wonderful?" he chuckled, moving close enough to press his face against the wall. His nose flattened and his cheek turned white, transforming him into a grotesquery. She hammered futilely at the wall. The Lord pulled back, a big smile crossing his face. " You have one hour to escape my maze. One whole hour, because this one is my finest, my favorite, my best- my worst!"

Inyx whirled and saw the beast slithering up toward her. Tentacles waved in the air, tentacles laden with needle- sharp spines. It wobbled and squished forward. She fired the tube. The creature vanished as if it had never been there. And it hadn' t. It was only illusion.

Inyx heaved a sigh of relief. She faced images.

" They aren' t all illusion," came the Lord' s soft voice. " No, not at all!"

She began working along the outer wall, turning sharp corners until she was positive she had circled back to her starting point. She hadn' t. The dark- haired woman felt a small panic begin. The inside of the maze appeared larger than the outer dimensions. But that wasn' t possible. Or was it?

Inyx stepped forward. Her foot touched a faintly discolored portion of the marble floor. Shock raced along her nerves. Excruciating pain snapped her head back and caused her teeth to rattle. She fell heavily. The death tube clattered across the floor.

" You can pick it up," the Lord said, cavorting about just inches away on the other side of the barrier. " Go on."

She reached out and again felt the pain lash every nerve in her body. This time she hadn' t touched the discoloration on the floor, only invaded the air above it.

" Better hurry, good lady. Look what wants you for dessert."

She screamed. The monster had no distinct form. It shimmered in and out at the limits of visibility, but what Inyx saw horrified her. Teeth: long, sharp, carnivorous. Eyes: small, red, mean. Talons: meant for ripping apart exposed bellies. Worst of all for her was the knobby organ sprouting between the wavering creature' s legs. Tumescent, it thrust forward like a fleshy sword.

" It' s hungry, good lady," came the taunting commentary. " And I just fed it three of my meatiest guards. Now, whatever else can it want? For dessert?"

Inyx felt claws raking her body. She fought back, but her hands discovered nothing to grip, to use for leverage. The woman panicked when the beast bent her forward, its claws cutting through her clothing and leaving her bare and bloody.

" It used to be human," said the Lord. " Well, it used to be close to human. I' ve altered it since I found it in a lower dungeon. We get along quite well, the two of us. I do hope you two will find some enjoyment together."

A needle- sharp talon rested between Inyx' s breasts. The creature guided her so that she faced away from it, using the talon as a goad. She screamed when it probed upward between her legs. Fear took control of her as the woman felt the creature violate her.

Then shock set in. A cold, emotionless calm descended on her. Almost as if she were in a daze, she still knew what to do, how to act. Inyx reached between her legs and found a leathery sac tightened with lust. Grabbing it, she jerked forward. The creature bellowed in rage, tried to withdraw. As it straightened, she hooked her right instep behind its foot. Pulling hard on both foot and scrotum, she twisted the creature around. It fell heavily directly onto the spot in the maze which had induced such pain in her earlier.

It cried out, its shrill scream going beyond the upper limits of human hearing. Then it sizzled, wiggling as if it had fallen onto a hot griddle. Its death throes were relatively peaceful.

Inyx clutched her arms around her body and sobbed. The fugue state had passed totally; she had returned to normal, and the reality didn' t suit her.

" Why, this is astounding. You are the first to ever kill one of my creatures inside a maze. Remarkable! I knew Alberto had found me a choice prospect. But do hurry, good lady. You have only a small fraction of the hour left to find a way out."

Inyx shot the Lord a look of pure hatred. He delighted in it. She picked up the scraps of her clothing and managed to cover enough of herself so that she felt less vulnerable. Then the woman began to think seriously about the maze. It extended further than it should in the small space. While it had to be magically inspired, the clue lay in the apparent size of the homunculus- the former Lord of the Twistings- she' d seen in the other maze. While the current Lord looked full- size to her, a complex magical spell might have reduced her in size. If so, the maze seemed relatively larger to her.

She considered the dimensions. It might be as much as four times as large as she thought, if she' d been diminished in size. Inyx set out with this in mind, following the outer wall. The turns came where she expected. She heaved a sigh of relief at this. Any information had to be useful. The woman rounded a corner, stopped, and irrationally began to weep.

Spinning, she retraced her steps. The tears continued rolling down her cheeks, but the emotion producing them vanished.

" Ah, the Vale of Tears," said the Lord. " That' s one of my better creations. Have you found Laughing Valley yet? Several of my most recent guests have died laughing there."

Inyx didn' t answer. She took a firm control of herself and plunged through the area causing the welling of tears. On the other side, she found her left arm hung limp at her side. No amount of massage convinced it to respond. Inyx felt as if all the nerves had been severed. She kept the general plan of the maze in mind; to blunder around aimlessly meant only death or further misery. She continued walking.

" No more time, good lady. No more. Sorry." She glanced outside. The Lord of the Twistings grew in stature.

Her mind struggled with that. He didn' t grow, he was standing up. He' d been sitting down as he followed her through the maze. She was on a bottom level. She had to be.

Searching overhead produced the answer. A rectangle, edges barely visible, stretched above her. Inyx jumped, caught the edges, and pulled herself up. For a moment, she wondered if she' d bettered her position at all. Huge floating eyes stared at her. Inyx gasped, then realized they were the Lord' s eyes, peering through the side of the maze. Somehow he had blanked out his face, leaving behind only the brown eyes surrounded with oyster- white sclera.

" No!" the Lord of the Twistings cried. And Inyx knew that finding one extra level to the maze had been the secret for escape.

She raced around, hands pressing into the outer barrier. She quickly found an empty spot.

" Got it!" she exulted. Inyx plunged through the opening. Pain ripped through her body, searing every nerve and causing her to twist and jerk in excruciating agony.

The Lord of the Twistings' laughter soon drowned out her own pitiful cries for surcease.