The Tower of Endless Worlds (24 page)

He stepped into a room filled with humming machines. Dozens of closed-circuit television monitors ringed the walls, flickering with black and white feed from the security cameras. Thomson, a grim-faced man with a receding hairline and an ample paunch, sat at one of the consoles. An ex-cop with an alimony, Wycliffe found his security skills most useful. A few sessions with the Voice had also improved the man’s loyalty, not to mention his work ethic.

“Thomson,” said Wycliffe. He stepped over to the console. “What’s the problem?”

“Senator,” Thomson’s voice trailed off as Goth stepped into the room. “Um…”

“Never mind him,” said Wycliffe. “What’s so important?”

Thomson swallowed. “This.” He leveled a meaty finger at one of the monitors.

Wycliffe squinted. “What? Who the hell is that?”

The monitor showed a video feed of the door to the Tower in 13A. An emaciated man clad in ragged garments stood on the platform. 

“Where did he come from?” said Wycliffe.

“Through the door,” said Thomson.

“What?”

Thomson spread his hands. “It’s true, Senator. That fellow came through the door. Look.” He flipped a switch, and the monitor loaded archived security footage. Wycliffe watched as the door swung open with the usual shaft of white light. The emaciated man stepped through the opened door, looked around, and went motionless. The monitor clicked and went back to live feed. 

The man still stood on the platform, staring at nothing. 

Wycliffe shook his head. “You know the procedures, Thomson. Someone or something unauthorized comes through the door, the man on duty in the surveillance room calls in Mr. Marson’s men.”

“I know, sir,” said Thomson. “But he’s just standing there. Just came in and stood there.” 

“All right.”  Wycliffe rubbed his forehead. “You were right to call me. Krastiny, you still have your gun? Good. Come with me.”  

Wycliffe headed through the warehouse doors, striding through the rows of crates, Krastiny and Goth a half-step behind him. The emaciated man stood at the platform railing, staring off into the air. The fellow was gaunt and pale, his ragged clothes a deep crimson. Wycliffe stopped at the base of the platform and stared. The man made no response. 

“Senator,” said Krastiny. “That man is dead.”

Wycliffe’s frown deepened. “What?” 

“He’s not breathing,” said Krastiny. The knuckles of his gun hand whitened. 

“A walking corpse,” said Wycliffe. “How wonderful. Goth. Do you recognize this…creature, whatever it is?”

Goth growled. “Perhaps.”

Wycliffe rolled his eyes. “Helpful.”  He closed his eyes, gathered his concentration, and muttered a spell. A deathly chill washed through him, and Wycliffe focused his will on the platform.

The response staggered him. “Dear God.”

“What?” said Krastiny. 

“There’s powerful black magic in that thing.” He climbed the stairs, and the dead man turned to face him. “Who are you?”

The corpse’s lips twitched. “Marugon.” Its voice boomed like a drum.

Wycliffe folded his arms. “You think you are Marugon?”

“Marugon.” A hint of irritation entered the deep voice. “Take me to Lord Marugon.”

“What do you want with Lord Marugon?” said Wycliffe. 

“Take me to Lord Marugon,” said the corpse. 

Wycliffe raised his eyebrows. “Fine.” He turned. “Goth! Make yourself useful. Get Marugon.”

Goth headed for the elevator.

“What is that thing?” said Krastiny.

“I’m…not sure,” said Wycliffe. “There’s mighty black magic within it. Marugon will recognize it.”

Krastiny looked at his gun and shrugged. “What good would this be against a dead man?” He shoved the weapon back into its holster. “I should have stayed in Russia.”

Wycliffe frowned. Was Krastiny developing doubts? He had seen a lot in the last few days. Wycliffe didn’t worry about Kurkov’s loyalty. Kurkov would deal with Satan if it meant profit. But Krastiny was a deeper sort of man. Wycliffe hoped he didn’t have to use the Voice. Krastiny had a remarkable mind, and the Voice sometimes had detrimental side effects.

The double doors swung open, and Goth returned with Marugon. Marugon crossed to Wycliffe’s side, staring at the walking corpse. An expression of thunderous fury crossed his face, and Wycliffe felt the Warlock’s power rise. For a moment Marugon seemed robed in shadow, his eyes bottomless pits into an endless void. 

“Alastarius,” said Marugon, his voice a snarl.

Goth shifted. “I slew him.”

Marugon’s lips pulled back. “Yet even in death, he continues to trouble me. Damn him. You killed him too quickly, my friend.”

“You recognize this thing?” said Wycliffe.

Marugon climbed the stairs. “Recognize it? I created it.”

“You did?” said Wycliffe. 

The corpse went to one knee and bowed its head. “Lord Marugon.”

“This body, Senator Wycliffe, once belonged to a lord of Carlisan. After the city fell and Lithon Scepteris had eluded me, I took this man from the prisoners. I slew him with a spell of power and summoned a spirit from the dark places between the worlds to possess the corpse.”   

Wycliffe could not image the raw magical power it would take to do such a thing. “To what purpose?” 

“To find Lithon Scepteris, of course,” said Marugon. He gestured, and the corpse stood. “Tell me. All of it.” The corpse began to speak in a strange language, like a hissing whisper. Marugon asked questions from time to time in the same language. 

Krastiny climbed to the platform. “What are they saying?” he muttered.

“I wish I knew,” said Wycliffe.

“So,” said Marugon at last. His voice was calm, but Wycliffe saw the rage in his face. “It seems your world has unwelcome guests, Senator Wycliffe.”

Wycliffe stiffened. “You mean there’s been a security breach?”

“Of a sort,” said Marugon. “Do not trouble yourself. Your complex is secure. But someone has come through one of the other four doors.”

Wycliffe frowned. “You mean that fellow who was strong enough to resist my Voice?” That incident still worried him. He had sent agents out to find the man, but the fugitive had so far eluded them.

“Not him,” said Marugon. “A potential problem, certainly, but a minor one.” He shook his head. “No, a child has come through the door, possibly in the company of an old man.” He hissed a question to the corpse, and it answered in the same language. “Sir Liam Mastere, to be precise. I had thought Rembiar would have slain him by now. Damn him. Some others may have survived the journey through the Tower.”

“I fail to understand, I fear,” said Wycliffe.

Marugon glared at him. “Very well. I bound this creature to seek out Lithon Scepteris, heir to the throne of Carlisan. He is only infant child, yes…but I wish him dead.” Goth growled. “A rebellion could form with him as its nucleus. An ounce of prevention saves a pound of cure, as the peasants of the High Kingdoms once said.” 

“But why take this prince to Earth?” said Wycliffe. “I doubt he could lead an uprising effectively from another world!”

Marugon snorted. “A small child cannot lead a revolt. They knew I wanted him dead…no, Sir Liam knew. How did he find out?” Marugon’s eyes went glassy. “Did Alastarius tell him? No, no, impossible. Alastarius Prophesied at the moment of his death. He could not have told Mastere anything.” His eyes cleared. “But it was brilliant. Audacious and daring. I would never have thought to seek Lithon on Earth. Worthy of Sir Liam Mastere. He is a most dangerous foe. He slew three Warlocks with his own hand years ago. No doubt Sir Liam plans to keep the boy safe here until he is of age, and then return with him to Carlisan.” 

“Then we’ll find this boy and his guardian and have them both assassinated,” said Wycliffe.

Marugon didn’t seem to hear him. “I should have sealed those other four doors. But what good would it have accomplished? I did not come to the Tower to make extra seals. No, I came to break them.” He shook his head again. “Pardon my digressions, Senator Wycliffe. Much is on my mind.” 

“No doubt,” said Wycliffe, “but this problem is easy enough to solve.” He pointed at the open door. “We’ll see where those other four doors open. We should have done it in the first place anyway. Then we’ll investigate. An old man with a child, utterly unfamiliar with American customs, should be fairly easy to track down. Then we’ll send Krastiny and his boys out to settle accounts.” He looked over his shoulder at the little doctor. “An old man and a child should prove no difficulty, should they?”

Krastiny grinned, that razor light coming back into his eyes. “Hardly, my good Senator.”

Marugon laughed. “Sir Liam Mastere is far more than just another old man. Even lost and alone on a strange world, he is highly dangerous. Appearances are deceiving. No, we shall settle this matter in a different fashion.”

Wycliffe grunted. “How?”

“I myself shall hunt them down,” said Marugon. 

Wycliffe felt a chill crawl down his spine. 

“My creature,” said Marugon, gesturing at the corpse. “It is woven with spells of seeking, and I compelled it to find Lithon Scepteris. It followed him across my world and through the maze of the Tower.” Marugon laughed, and for an instant he seemed swathed in shadows, his eyes bottomless black holes. “It has tracked Lithon Scepteris over thousands of miles and across the worlds, Senator Wycliffe. It will have no difficulty finding the prince in the same city.” He straightened. “And then I shall kill him, and all who travel with him. Sir Liam is brave, but he is a fool. He does not know what he challenges.”

“Ah.” Wycliffe swallowed. “Just…try not to make too much of a mess.”

Marugon grinned. It made him look like a mad wolf. “Fear not.” He spun to face the corpse. “I command! Go forth and track down Lithon Scepteris.”

The corpse shuddered. Wycliffe watched in astonished fear as it crumbled, its shadow bulging and distorting. The corpse withered into dust, but its shadow twisted, folded, and seemed to rip open. An enormous black lion leapt out of the shadow, its mane, claws, and eyes like frozen flame. The ghastly thing was at least as big as a horse. Krastiny fumbled with his gun. 

Marugon threw out his arms, his robes fluttering like dark wings. “Go!”

The lion’s roar sounded like a demon’s howl. It sprang over the railing, pivoted, and sprinted away. Wycliffe watched as the beast became insubstantial and raced through the wall.

“Goth Marson!” said Marugon. “Gather the five most powerful of your kin. You will accompany me.” Goth bowed. “Senator Wycliffe. I require a vehicle.” 

Wycliffe nodded. “I’ll have something brought up immediately.” He headed for the intercom, trying to shake his growing worry. Suppose Marugon was seen? Suppose someone spotted the slouching thugs and traced them back here? He looked back at Marugon, tall and grim in his black robes.

Wycliffe’s concern faded. 

Lord Marugon, last of the Warlocks, would leave no witnesses alive. 

Chapter 20 - Pursuit

Anno Domini 2003

Simon sat on the back porch and watched the sun go down, the dying light throwing long black shadows through the trees. He wished that someone had cut down the trees, that houses had been built over the site, and the door to the Tower of Endless Worlds buried forever. 

But if the door had been buried, then the shadow-things would have caught Ally and Lithon.

He would not wish that on anyone, and certainly not a helpless child and a dead-eyed little girl. 

Simon knew what he had to do.

But he did not want to do it.

The sun sank lower. 

Simon thought of Conmager, a mixture of shame and resentment filling him. Conmager had never flinched from the horrors he had confronted. He had seen the destruction of his world. He had crossed the Tower’s reaches and escaped from Wycliffe. Yet he somehow kept going.

Simon took a deep breath, got to his feet, and went into the kitchen. 

Ally and Lithon sat at the table, dressed in the clothes Katrina had bought. The T-shirt and jeans hung like robes from Ally’s bony frame. Katrina leaned against the door, watching the children with bemusement. Conmager stood at the stove, sprinkling pepper onto a half-dozen frying cheeseburgers. 

“Los Angeles?” said Katrina. “What will we do when we get there?” 

Conmager flipped the burgers with a spatula. “I hope to evade detection. LA is a vast city, the crossroads of the Pacific world. I have a refuge prepared there.”

Katrina folded her arms. “So we’re going to go and hide? What then?”

Conmager stared at the sizzling grease. “I do not yet know.” He paused. “My thought is that when Lithon comes of age…”

Katrina spotted Simon. “So. You’ve done some thinking?”  

“Yeah.” Simon ran his hand through his hair. “A lot of thinking.” 

“Make up your mind about some things?”  Katrina’s voice was flat, but Simon saw a mixture of fear and hope in her face. It heartened him. “You going to come or not?”

Simon nodded. “I’ll come.”

Katrina smiled. “Good.”

“Very wise, as always,” said Conmager. He shut off the stove. “I retrieved some meat from your freezing machinery and cooked it for the evening meal. I hope you do not mind.” 

Simon sat the table. “I think a couple of burgers are the least of my problems, thank you.”

“We shall eat and then leave immediately.”  Conmager retrieved a package of buns from the cabinet and put the food on the table. “Pack only what you absolutely require. I have sufficient funds secured in various places throughout the country that we shall not be in want.”

Simon sighed and put a burger on a bun. “You’ve been a busy fellow over the last year, haven’t you?”

“Quite,” said Conmager. 

“I need…I need to tell my mother where I’m going,” said Simon. “And maybe Dr. Francis…”

Conmager began making a burger for Ally. “That would not be wise. Wycliffe may discover where we have gone.”

“I’m my mom’s only son,” said Simon. “She needs…no, she has the right to know where I’ve gone. And Katrina’s mom…Katrina’s the only family she has. Is she just supposed to disappear on her?”

Conmager cut the burger in two and gave half to Ally. “Then leave a letter. You are betrothed. Tell them you decided to elope.”

Katrina shrugged. “That might work. At least for a few weeks." 

Simon ate. How would his mother react to his disappearance? What would Dr. Francis think? Simon would miss graduation. He had worked long and hard to get that doctorate. He looked across the table and saw his doubts mirrored in Katrina’s face. 

The sun went down as they finished eating, darkening the kitchen. 

Conmager blinked. “We had best leave soon.”

“If we’re going to LA, how are we going to get there?” said Simon.

“The red van,” said Conmager. “I shall drive. I want to get at least as far as Des Moines before we stop.”

“Des Moines?” said Simon. “That’ll take most of the night.”

Conmager nodded. “We can stop and rest there, and continue the next day.”

“I’ll need to stop at my apartment,” said Katrina. “I need some clothes…and…to leave my mom a letter.”

Conmager nodded. “Very well. But we’ll need…”

Ally jumped to her feet, eyes wide. 

Simon frowned. “What? What is it?”

Terror crossed Ally’s face. “It’s outside.”

Conmager snatched up his staff. Symbols of white fire crawled down its length. “There’s something…”   

The back door exploded inwards, ripping out the frame and part of the wall. 

Ally shrieked, and Lithon started wailing. Simon cursed and threw his arms over his face. Splinters and chunks of wall bounced off him.

Something huge and black and flame-cloaked leapt through the door and lunged for Lithon.

###

Marugon’s eyes opened.

He sat in the back seat of one of Wycliffe’s vans. Goth sat in the front passenger’s seat. Besides him sat a terrified young driver in Wycliffe’s employ, sweat dripping down his face. 

Goth half-turned. He wore a headset with a microphone and an earpiece. “Lord?”

Marugon closed his eyes and concentrated, his will searching for the voidspawn spirit bound into the corpse. 

Visions flashed through his mind.

He saw a large white house, a red van parked outside…

A door exploded in a shower of splinters…

A girl screamed, and a little boy’s face came into sight…

Marugon sat ramrod straight. “Lithon Scepteris.”

“You have found him, Lord?” said Goth.

Marugon reached for the seeking spirit. He felt its presence, like an icy wind blowing against his face. “Driver. Where I am pointing?”

The young man swallowed. “Uh…the stoplight?”

“Fool! Not that. Towards what district of the city am I pointing?” said Marugon.

The driver licked his lips. “Cicero, I think.” 

“Are there any large white houses within Cicero?” said Marugon.

The driver shrugged “It’s a suburb. Lots of people live there. Some of the houses might be white.”

“Make for Cicero with all speed,” said Marugon. 

The driver hesitated. “But…”

“Do it!” Marugon put the full force of the Voice into his words. The driver whimpered and hit the gas. The tires screeched, streetlights reflecting off the windshield.

“But…I’m going at least ninety, the cops will stop us…”

“Bah!” said Marugon. He muttered a few words and focused a portion of his will into a spell. “The city guards will not trouble us. Drive with all speed. Goth. Command your kin to circle above Cicero. Order them to watch for a red van near a large white house.”

Goth tapped his headset and growled orders.

Marugon sank back into a half-trance, his will searching for the seeking spirit. 

###

Simon could not believe his eyes.

Something that looked like a huge black lion kicked aside the ruins of the door. Flames danced in its mane and eyes, and sparks shot from its claws. A hideous smell, a mixture of sulfur and rotting flesh, rose from its reeking breath. The beast strode forward, claws clicking against the linoleum. 

It was heading straight for Lithon.

Katrina grabbed a meat knife from the rack, jumped forward, and plunged the blade into the lion’s neck. The beast growled and lashed out, the back of its paw smacking into Katrina’s stomach. The blow threw her across the room and into the kitchen wall, the impact knocking pots and pans from their hooks. Simon yelled and tried to reach her, but the beast blocked his path. 

It swiveled, eyes fixed on Lithon, and tensed to spring.

Conmager strode towards the creature, hands locked around his staff’s dark length. “Get back!”

The lion’s burning eyes narrowed, and a deep, booming laugh rose from its fanged maw. The creature surged forward with terrible speed, claws reaching for Conmager. 

Conmager struck the butt of his staff against the floor.

The staff’s head burst into brilliant white flame, filling the kitchen with light. 

The lion screamed as an unseen force caught it in mid-leap and flipped it over. The creature landed on its back on the wreckage of the door, rolled over, and tried to dart outside. Conmager moved like lightning, sliding between the creature and the door. The lion flinched from his staff, slinking away. Simon darted past them and ran to Katrina’s side. She blinked, moaned, and looked up at him.

She didn’t look too badly hurt. 

Conmager thrust his blazing staff, driving the creature back. It hissed and snarled and growled, clawing at him, but could not face the staff’s fire. The creature kicked over the table in an effort to get away, but Conmager did not relent. Soon he had driven the beast into a corner. 

“Go back.” Conmager lifted his staff, the fire flaring brighter. “Go back to the darkness. By the power of my spirit, by the spells of this staff, I compel you, go back!” Ally walked to his side and grabbed his belt, the white fire reflected in her eyes.

The lion howled in fury. “You cannot win!” A booming voice rolled out of its snapping maw. “The Lord of the Warlocks will find you. I see your future, weakling apprentice! You will perish in flames!”

Conmager’s face steeled. “So be it.” 

The lion leapt at him with a howl of pain.

Conmager the burning head of his staff into the beast’s open maw. The lion shrieked and jerked like a dying fish. Its body twisted and diminished, shrinking into a pale man clad in red rags. Conmager muttered something and twisted his staff. The pale man fell to the floor with a thump and shriveled into black ash. Conmager sighed and slumped against the staff. The white flames flickered and went out.

“Are you okay?” said Simon, taking Katrina’s hands.

Katrina got to her feet. “I’m fine. Just…just some bruises, that’s all.”  She brushed dust from her jeans. “Conmager, what the hell was that thing?”

Conmager’s right hand trembled against the staff. He looked more tired than ever.

“I mean, I rammed that knife at least six inches into its neck, but it didn’t slow it down a bit,” said Katrina. “What the hell was it?”   

“A spirit of the void, summoned from the black places between the worlds,” said Conmager. He scraped the butt of his staff through the ashes. “It is summoned and bound by the sacrifice of an innocent.” His gaze snapped to meet Simon’s. “We have to go now! Marugon created this thing to track Lithon, and Marugon will know that I banished it.” He picked up Ally with his free arm and hurried towards the door. “We must go now! We have no time.” 

Simon didn’t argue. He wrapped his arm around Lithon and followed Katrina out the ruined door.

###

Marugon’s eyelids fluttered. 

A bolt of pain shot through his skull. He grimaced and dismissed the backlash of a broken spell. “Damnation.”

Goth turned, the passenger seat creaking under his bulk. “Lord?” 

“The seeking spirit has been banished,” said Marugon, rubbing his temples. “It must have encountered Sir Liam. But he has not the power to banish the spirit. How? Do they have a wielder of white magic among their number?” The dark wrath within in his mind deepened. He did not like mysteries. But it didn’t matter. Once he found Sir Liam and the Scepteris brat, he would annihilate them and all their followers with a single spell.

Goth tapped his headset and nodded once. “Driver. Wait…turn left at the next intersection.”  He turned to face Marugon. “Lord. One of my kin has found them.”

Marugon smirked. “Then let the hunt begin.”

###

The tires screeched. 

Conmager backed into the street, spun the wheel so fast the van almost tipped, and hit the gas. The van sped into the darkness.

“Don’t kill us before Wycliffe finds us,” said Katrina from the front seat, making a show of buckling her seat belt.

“I have experience driving under extreme duress,” said Conmager 

Simon watched his house recede into the distance. He had not even had time to turn the lights off. Lithon clutched at his arm. The little boy had gone quiet, though he remained pale and shaking. Simon wondered if he had gone into shock. 

“He’s scared,” said Ally. She sat alone in the back seat. “He knows to be quiet when he’s very frightened. I think he learned it when he was with Liam.”

Simon frowned. “You don’t happen to know how to read minds, do you?”

Ally blinked. “Read…minds? What does that mean?”

Simon shook his head. “Never mind.” He turned to the front. “So what now?”

“We get out of Chicago,” said Conmager. “The beast…I think Marugon could see through its eyes.”

Simon shuddered. “Then Marugon has seen us. Me and Katrina, I mean.”

“Not necessarily,” said Conmager. “It was focused on Lithon, and then upon myself. I am only a buzzing fly to one such as Lord Marugon, and you are nothing to him. But Lithon, he believes Lithon is the true threat.” He hit the gas and sped through a red light. Horns blared, but Conmager swerved and kept going. “He may not have noticed you. But Wycliffe will investigate. When he discovers that the door opened near your house…” 

“How terribly reassuring,” said Simon. “So can we make it out of Chicago or not?”

“I think we can,” said Conmager. “It shall be easier to escape notice once we are out of the city and on the vastness of the Plains.” A shadow crossed over his face. “And the last chance…I may not be forced to…”

Ally peered out the dark windows.

Simon frowned. “What is it? Is something wrong?” 

Ally looked at him. Those dark eyes, so old and so knowing, looked out of place in her young face. “There is…”

Something dark swooped over the street ahead. Simon’s stomach tied itself into knots. “Is…is that…”

The dark shadow sped into sight again, passing through a street lamp’s cone of light. Simon caught a glimpse of sooty black armor and a huge leathery wing.

“What the hell is that?” said Katrina.

“The winged demons,” said Conmager. “They have found us. Hold on.” He spun the wheel, the tires shrieking with the strain. The van almost tipped yet again, but Conmager reversed direction and sped around a corner. Simon clutched at the seat, his heart thundering. The prospect of death in a fiery car crash did not faze him.