The Crystal Sorcerers (7 page)

Before them, a sheer wall suddenly loomed up. Having crossed the length of the lake, they came to a stop beneath the vast cliff, which soared straight upwards to the towering battlement of Sarnak's keep. The wall before them was dotted with caves.

"Close your eyes, turn off your sensing, and count to ten," Leti commanded. "Then practice trying to find me."

He felt a vague uneasiness, but the playful mood still held sway and he followed her command. She was gone when he opened his eyes, so he used his sensing ability to sweep the area--first out behind him, but there was no one there. He shifted his attention forward, scanning the caves.

Nothing.

Suddenly there was the slightest flurry of movement to the right, at the mouth of a cave right on the bottom.

"Got you," he cried, and zoomed for the entrance. The narrow opening closed around him, plunging him into blackness lit only by his crystal.

There was movement straight ahead, and eagerly he pushed forward. The cave doglegged to the right, and he slowed to turn the corner, ready to reach out and grab her, for he could sense her presence lingering just on the other side.

Ever so cautiously he came up to the edge, turning his beacon down to a narrow slit of light so as not to betray his presence. Lying on the bottom, he reached around to grab her by the legs. His hands grabbed something smooth, rounded, and cold.

A scream of horror escaped him: In his hands was a human skull, shreds of flesh still dangling from
it's
face.

The water swirled around him. Recoiling backward, he kicked out blindly, the water boiling around him in his frantic struggle.

A demon that was the sickly pale white of a rotting corpse rose above him, its phosphorescent green teeth bared and its yellow eyes glowing with malevolence.

Instinctively he raised his hand, a slash of light snapping out. The water boiled as the bolt of energy slammed through, catching the demon in the arm.

The demon roared in pain and fury, its voice hollow and ominous in the watery depths.

Pushing away, Ikawa rolled and twisted as the webbed talons cut through the water, catching him on the leg and pulling Ikawa toward his gaping maw.

Curling up in a ball, Ikawa aimed another shot, catching the demon full in the face. The booming scream abruptly stopped as the beam tore its head off. The hold loosened and he kicked away, bolting for the pale light of the cave entrance.

Half-blinded by terror he shot from the hole.

"Ikawa!"

Leti swung in alongside, a look of horror in her eyes as she saw the blood trailing from his leg.

The caverns around them seemed to explode in a maelstrom of enraged nightmares.

Leti fired three quick shots, each ripping a demon's body asunder. But still they came on.

"Can you swim?" she cried.

"I'll make it!" Ikawa grated, and the two raced through the water, two dozen or more pale forms swinging in behind them.

"Leti, Ikawa, what is it?"

"Get out of the lake!" Leti shouted.
"Water demons!"

"We're coming over," Mark yelled.

"Ikawa, head for the surface," Leti cried, her voice full of concern.

Ikawa shook his head. The panic was under control and now replaced by a grim anger at having been caught so off guard.

The two continued to retreat, pulling the demons in behind them. Looking over his shoulder, he could see them swimming, their webbed hands and feet moving with smooth muscular strength, the vestiges of what had once been wings now undulating in a rippling motion like the movement of a giant ray flying through the water.

He was amazed to see that their power in the water equaled his own, and in fact the strongest of them was rapidly closing in. Clumsily he tried to aim over his shoulder and fire a bolt. The water boiled around him as the lightning shot snapped out, disappearing into the darkness, wide of its mark.

Leti swung wide, and then cut an arc across the front of Ikawa, firing twice. Her first shot missed, but the second caught the lead demon in the shoulder, sending him into a downward spiral.

The fighting here was far different, Ikawa realized, his analytical mind examining the nature of this combat even as he fled. In the air, range of firing could reach out a quarter mile or more. Down here fifty yards was probably the maximum range of an energy bolt before its power was drained off by the surrounding water. Movement was far slower as well. A close-in fight would be short and extremely deadly.

Suddenly, from straight beneath him, three forms shot up out of the depth. They had cut in front of him!

He fired a bolt at the closest demon, killing him, but could not turn back in time to handle the other two.

Swinging upward, he tried to cross above them, and they reached up eagerly to grab him.

There was a blinding flash of light, and the first demon seemed to explode. A second and third flash struck the other pursuer in the back and front at almost the same instant. The water around Ikawa was an explosion of steam and light, with the world washed in the roar of angry demons and the hissing shriek of hundreds of gallons of water vaporizing into steam.

Storm shot past, her countenance a terrifying visage of rage, with Mark at her side.

Spinning around, Ikawa and Leti now went over to the attack.
At the sight of another demigod appearing as if from nowhere, the demons broke away, scattering in every direction.
Two more fell to her fury, the water around them boiling and foaming as her bolts shot out. Forming into a triad, Ikawa, Mark, and Leti fell in on two more demons
who
were madly racing back to the caverns. As if guided by a single thought, all three fired at the same time, and an instant later, Ikawa found himself swimming through the charred and boiled remains of his victim, the nauseating stench of burnt demon leaking through his shielding. The cliff wall now loomed above them, the last demons scurrying into its protection.

Frustrated, Ikawa started after them.

"Leave it
go
," Leti cried, swinging alongside him. "It's probably a honeycomb of warrens back there. They could lead you into a trap. I think they've learned enough of a lesson for today."

There was another flash off to their right, accompanied by an echoing shriek and the boiling hiss of steam. A moment later Storm reappeared, rage still glowing in her eyes.

"That should teach the bastards not to interrupt us," she said coldly.

Mark could not help but smile.

"We better get that leg looked after," Leti said.

Looking down, Ikawa saw that the slash was a deep one, going almost to the bone. A cut from a demon was always a tricky affair, since many times it would be poisoned. For the first time he felt pain wash through him, and a rising giddiness that was quickly turning into downright nausea.

Together, the four gained the surface. Putting a protective arm around Ikawa, Mark soared straight upward to alight on the cliff where their clothes still lay.

Leti spoke hurriedly into her communications crystal even as she bent over to examine Ikawa's leg.

"I've alerted the medical team," she said, and pulled the healing crystal from her belt, laying it on the wound to stem the bleeding.

The three dressed rapidly and were preparing to take Ikawa in when from out of the darkness a form landed beside them. Two other sorcerers quickly followed.

Without a word Allic knelt to look at Ikawa's wound.

"It could have been a lot worse," he said reassuringly, looking up at the Japanese officer with obvious relief.

Ikawa felt a swelling of affection for this man, who had
come
racing out to him the moment he had heard that one of his samurai had been injured. This truly was a daimyo worth serving.

Standing, Allic walked over to the edge of the cliff and looked down. "Sarnak must have kept them as pets, tossing in people he no longer needed."

A sick rage washed over Ikawa at the thought of the human skull he had held only moments before.

"A little interruption, I gather," Allic said, looking over at Storm in an attempt to lighten the mood. .

"Ah, shut up," she replied huffily, and even Ikawa laughed as Allic looked over at him and winked.

The lightness of Allic's mood, however, quickly shifted to seriousness.

"You better be ready to fly tomorrow," he said to Ikawa.

"Brother, are you insane?" Leti said protectively. "He'll be laid up for at least several days."

"I need him--in fact, I need all of you." The tone of his voice ended all dissent. "Word just came from Jartan. We must report to him in
Asmara at once. Gorgon has made his first move."

"My lord, there is an emissary from Boreas waiting to see you."

Pina, chief steward and battle advisor to Allic, nodded to the courtyard outside the main briefing room, where a solitary figure stood in the shadows.

Since Allic's hurried return to Landra on his way to his father's court in
Asmara, the audience chamber had been a swirl of activity as the business which had piled up in his absence was quickly attended to.

"He's been waiting for you for three days," Pina said evenly. "I've assured him the delay is not intended as a slight, but he doesn't
looked
pleased."

"Boreas?" was Allic's astonished rejoinder.

Varma stopped in his rounds of refilling everyone's drinks and interjected, "I've tried to talk to him twice, and he's the coldest, most closemouthed sorcerer I've ever met."

Allic lifted an eyebrow at Pina.

"I agree with Varma--he's one of Boreas' descendants. He definiteiy has a touch of the Frost."

"Interesting," Allic mused. "By all means, bring him in."

As Pina left the room Mark spoke up.

"I don't believe I've ever heard the name Boreas. Is it a place or a person?"

"Boreas is one of the oldest demigods still living. He is the eldest child of Bore, the Creator that Horat killed to start the War of the Gods three thousand years ago."

Allic drained his mug and continued as Varma refilled it.

"Boreas is my cousin by blood, but over the years he has turned into something that I can't understand. His realm is in the far north, in the icefields and fjords of the polar ice cap. He is a creature of ice and bitter cold that few would want or could stand against."

Varma dropped his facade of the jester and once again revealed the brilliant mind that he hid from all but a few.

"The histories of the Great War mention that the Frost Demons attempted to attack Haven during the conflict and confusion. Boreas and his battle team went to their universe to, as he put it, '
have
a little discussion.' He decimated three worlds before they were able to buy him off."

"It has never been proven that they bought him off," Allic snapped.

"Well, be that as it may, we can't dispute the fact that something broke the power of the fire demons at the battle of Grada. It has been implied many times that Boreas has a Great Weapon that not even the gods know about. He is a demigod cloaked in legends."

Allic gave a snort of disdain at Varma.

The door opened and Pina entered with a tall, lean sorcerer. Mark was impressed. Even the comfortable temperature of the room seemed to go down appreciably.

The man was dressed in gray and white, and his face was as devoid of emotion as a week-dead fish.

He stood before Allic and bowed.

"Prince Allic, I am Traca. I bring you greetings from your cousin Boreas, Prince of the North."

Allic waved an airy acknowledgment, and responded graciously. "It is always a pleasure to hear from Boreas. Would you care to sit down and join us in a drink?"

"No, thank you. I prefer to stand."

Allic's smile became a little less warm.

"So what message forces you to journey to this land of insufferable heat and effete Southerners?"

Even Traca's smile was wintry.

"Prince Allic, we of the North are not noted for our gregariousness. But, rest assured, I meant no insult to those who have had the honor of destroying the realm of that monster Sarnak."

Mark spoke before he could catch his loose tongue.

"Does that mean that you have had contacts with Sarnak also?"

"I see your education has been sadly neglected, Outlander. The heirs of Bore will hate Sarnak for as long as the universe lasts, and beyond. It is because of him that our father, the Creator Bore, was foully murdered by Horat--may his name be cursed for eternity."

Traca returned his attention to Aliic.

"We have kept the Peace as we swore, though the thought of Sarnak living has been an intolerable burden to us for over three thousand years."

"All of Haven is aware of Boreas' restraint. It saved the lives of many during the exchange of prisoners,"
came
Allic's soothing reply.
"Now.
Your message?"

For the first time emotion crossed Traca's face: an almost wistful eagerness.

"We of the North hope that you might have some inkling as to Sarnak's whereabouts, since you now have access to his castle and secret papers. I am authorized to offer a score of wall crystals to replace your losses if my lord Boreas has first chance to use such information and successfully takes Sarnak."

Mark could see that Allic was furious, but did an admirable job of keeping his temper.

"Traca, inform your lord that he can keep his crystals. When and if I can find such information, all those who have cause to hate Sarnak may join me in the chase."

"Very generous.
In the name of my lord, I thank you!"

For another moment the look of eagerness lasted, and then was gone.

"There is one more matter that I am commanded to discuss. It is known that you have signed all the outlanders"--and here he turned to look at Ikawa and Mark--"to contracts in your service. It is further known that several have left you and are now on the rolls as Unta."

Mark glanced over at Ikawa and knew his friend was as pierced as he was by the knowledge that two of their
party were
now known as unspeakable and without honor for breaking their contracts. He turned to see Allic shaking his head at them, as if to say, the dishonor was not yours.

"Yes, it is so," Allic told Traca.

"Then let me inform you that Boreas wishes to buy the contract of the one called Giorgini."

There were gasps around the table, but Allic's face was expressionless.

"I'm sure you realize the implications of your last statement, messenger."

"Yes."

"What is your offer?"

"One wall crystal."

"A wall crystal for a contract that has a little over two years left?
Most impressive."

Allic then turned to Mark.

"Mark, he was one of yours. What is your counsel?"

"I don't really understand all of this," Mark said hesitantly, "but if there is a chance to give Giorgini a way to redeem
himself
I'd say yes."

Allic turned back to Traca. "Inform your lord that I accept."

Traca nodded. "The wall crystal will be delivered in two days. With your permission I will wait until then to take possession of the contract."

With Allic's nod of acceptance, Traca turned again to Mark.

"Know, young sorcerer, that your man Giorgini was on his way back to you when he, uh, was delayed. It is my lord's intention to put his name back on the rolls."

Allic rapped the table with his mug, and with a calm voice that belied the anger on his face said, "Unnecessary, Traca. As of this moment I have ordered Giorgini's name restored to the rolls. Now, unless you have further business to discuss, you are excused from my presence."

Traca bowed and left.

"Would someone please explain to me what is going on about Giorgini?"

Ikawa was the first to answer.

"
Either Boreas or one of his people has Giorgini, and
they find him valuable. The key point here is when they got him."

Varma glanced at Allic. "The manner in which the contract was offered, and the excessive price, points to a border violation. In my opinion Boreas himself flew here as soon as he knew that Sarnak had broken the Sacred Truce. Boreas would give almost anything for the chance to kill Sarnak himself. He probably got here too late for Sarnak and took Giorgini instead, to get information."

Allic stirred at that. "Yes, that is how I see it. The wall crystal is a very subtle way of apologizing for intrusion and interference."

"Does that mean Giorgini is a prisoner?" asked Mark.

Allic glanced at Varma, who responded, "I'd guess not. The offer for the contract was straightforward."

Allic straightened.
"Agreed.
Giorgini has obviously offered to serve Boreas. Maybe without Younger's influence he will serve
him
as well as you have served me. Now let's call it a night. We leave for
Asmara at first light tomorrow."

"I must have been dreaming," Imada whispered, looking up into her eyes.

"Just the bad dream, my lover," Vena replied, a gentle smile lighting her innocent features. "I heard you cry out."

Imada stirred and tried to sit up, but the lightheadedness returned. Languidly, he
laid
back down.

The world was such a kaleidoscope of colors, of drifting images, phantasms that could be real or just imagined. But he did not even care to find out if they were real or not. One should not question this quiet paradise of love.

The bad dream again. Funny, he could barely recall it now. He could still remember his friends, the captain who had always treated him with kindness, even Sergeant Saito, who bellowed like a bull, but was more like an older brother.
Even the Americans, Jose and Kraut.
He had never wanted to be a
soldier,
the thought of killing anyone had been so repugnant. And the Americans had proven to be not such bad fellows after all. Yes, he could remember them, and the vague desire to return to them. He must report to his friends, but what was it he was supposed to tell them?

Something had happened to him.
Something horrible.
He looked into Vena's eyes. Something had happened--but what was it?

"Can you remember your dream?" she asked, her brow knitted.

Had he been swimming? No, no, it had been next to a river, hadn't it?

Leaning over, her lips lightly brushed his.

Was that part of the nightmare as well? Yet even as he wondered, he could feel the first tingle of passion as the kiss became bolder.

A hushed moan of pleasure escaped her. Sitting up, she undid the shoulder clasp of her lavender and silver-laced gown. The gown slipped away, tumbling to her waist. Reaching to her side, she snapped loose the hip clasp and the gown fell away.

Smiling she brushed back her amber curls to expose the beauty of her breasts.

Still feeling lightheaded, but this time from the joy within him, Imada sat up as Vena pulled back the covers of his bed.

Together they fell back, now joined as one, their passion rising together,
then
ever so dreamily falling away.

Floating in a lovers' embrace, Imada opened his eyes. She lay beside him, her eyes sparkling with love.

"Without you I would be nothing," she sighed. "Don't ever leave me."

Imada pulled her close, and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Can you remember the fight, my love?" Her innocent features were aglow with admiration.

The fight?
Yes--that was the nightmare. The party had been on patrol when Sarnak's demons had attacked. It had been a horrific siege, pinned down in a glade with no protection. One by one his comrades had fallen. Throughout that long night he had heard their cries as they were dragged off into the darkness to be tortured and killed.

Numbed, he had waited for the coming of morning and certain death, hiding by the river bank, wounded and waiting for the end. Somehow he could remember Yoshida's screams of agony.

Imada tried to block that memory. He had been struggling. It was in the water, wasn't it? Yes, in the water wrestling with a demon. That was it. The demon had pounced on him, and they were struggling in the water when Yoshida had cried out. What had happened to that demon? He must have killed
it,
otherwise he would now be dead.

With the rising of the sun he had found himself alone, the only survivor of the patrol, in the smoking ruins of the glade, with bodies scattered everywhere. And the enemy was gone.

He must have been in shock, he thought. What did the Americans call it?
Combat fatigue.
He had wandered, lost.

Lost until the dark smoke on the horizon told him of trouble.
The sight of the demons circling the burning village had been the trigger to his rage at what had been done.

He looked back at Vena.

"You're thinking of the battle, aren't you, my love?"

Imada nodded.

"I'll always remember how you came to me," she said, her doelike eyes gazing into his.

"The demons had attacked just after dawn," she whispered, as if reciting a shared memory. "They must have been the same ones that attacked you the night before. We fought as best we could. Everything, everything was destroyed.
My home, my friends, and my father."
Tears began to fill her eyes.

"Don't cry, dearest," Imada whispered, kissing her tears away.