Adventures Of Myhr Part 36

He cracked a shin on a low table. What was it doing here instead of in the side hall? b.l.o.o.d.y woman.

Probably asleep in their room. Serve her right if he strangled her in what had been their bed, but no, he'd decided she would be more useful elsewhere. It would be just as unpleasant for her, and this time with no cold iron mallet in hand to spoil things. When had she gone so b.l.o.o.d.ystupid on him? No matter, he'd be shed of her very shortly.

He crept to the top of the grand stairs, blinking a lot, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the additional darkness of the upper hall. They refused to do so; he moved close to her door to see if any light showed through the keyhole. Nothing.

He eased it open and went in, fuming mightily when he found she wasn't in bed. Not even slept in it.

Where had she taken herself at this hour? Certainly not out of the house or some drowsy servant would be up and wandering about waiting for her return, candles lighted to welcome her back. Was she with that idiot Cadmus? But he couldn't have arrived here yet or the whole place would be stirred up. Perhaps she was huddled away in her so-called Black Room.

A poor imitation to his own chamber; she'd gone there often enough on sleepless nights, looking for clues to her tiny little future. She could have been helping him instead, working on something truly important. Had she been more open-minded about acquiring knowledge he'd have welcomed her in, but she was as terrified as the rest when it came to uncovering hidden truths. b.l.o.o.d.y fools. Didn't they know that the best diamonds were always in the deepest, darkest, most dangerous mines?

He crept along the hall toward the blue doors with the gold trim.

Outside Darmo House Shankey considered Debreban's question. The man had talent for guard work. It was an obvious detail that needed to be checked. "You got something there. I'll watch this gate, you make a quick rounding of the house. We may have to wait inside in order to nab him."

"Won't he be suspicious to find the front deserted?"

"He's gonna be that way no matter what. Give a yell if you see anything."

Debreban nodded and took off.

Just Inside the Great Gate Oh, what a b.u.mmer. My head hurt so bad I couldn't hear myself, much less Terrin, who was wanting to know what was going on. I wondered if he'd felt the knock. It was my own fault, which made the pain worse. If I hadn't stood up so fast . . .

Growl, snarl, screech, and other similar noises expressing major annoyance began to rise and cl.u.s.ter behind me. I'd p.i.s.sed off those demons in a big way. Had to put some distance between us. Maybe I'd lose them in the gray fog, unless I got lost myself.

"Terrin?"

Right here.He didn't sound so good.

"You okay?"

Never mind, check that crystal. You still got it, you got the sword?

"Yes and yes. Oh, my head."

I know. Don't do that again.

I was on his side for that. "The crystal's heavy as a bowling ball."

Go with it. See where you are. "Can't. Foggy. Is this place safe?"

Just get moving. I'm losing it here.

So I got moving. Hard to judge how fast; I could have been on a cosmic treadmill going no place. The demon noises slowly faded. Maybe. All I was certain of was the quartz putting on more pounds. I could barely hold it in front of me. As least the pain in my head subsided as I walked.

The gray had no texture or smell to it, a bona fide limbo, with me the only real thing inside. Except I wasn't real, just a projection. I hoped my body back in the circle was doing okay. Probably better than Terrin. He'd sounded awful.

Faster, move faster. I used the sword like a cane, tapping ahead of my feet to make sure the ground was still there for them to land on.

Then . . . steps. Going down. In h.e.l.l, was that necessarily a good thing? But the quartz flickered once, so I went with it. If it got any heavier I'd need a truck to haul it around.

The fog began to unexpectedly break up, less limbo and more cloudlike, taking on a pale blue cast.

There was a harsh, bra.s.sy quality to it, like a too-hot summer day, and it was getting warmer. The lower I went the more the clouds retreated. The steps ended. I was on a flat, spongy surface, visibility bounded within a slow-churning sphere of blue about ten feet in diameter.

"Am I still in h.e.l.l?"

Yes,Terrin said wearily.

"But where?"

He made no reply. I went with the quartz for a few yards, the limits of my vision traveling with me.

"Anyone here? Overduke Anton? h.e.l.lo?"

"Well, hi there, big boy!"

I about jumped out of my skin, which is saying a lot after what I'd just been through. Whirling in a circle with the sword up, I tried to get a fix on the voice, which was bright, friendly in tone, and decidedly feminine. I didn't want to trust it, not in this place.

"I'm over here!" she called.

My ears swiveled, and I wheeled that way. A portion of the light blue clouds changed color, shifting to yellow, then red, then orange. The orange deepened and intensified. It took on form, a female shape, about my height. She finally coalesced and solidified into what appeared to be a major,major babe, with a curvy rounded figure right out of a Mickey Spillane novel. She had glowing fluorescent orange skin, and royal blue hair, lipstick, and nails. I could get used to that. I was less sure of the blue horns and her blue forked tongue, which she was using to lick her delicate blue eyebrows. She wore six-inch blue high heels, a big smile, and nothing else.

Eeek. Yikes. I recognized her. She was one of those cartoon lesbian demon babes from Terrin's T-shirt,come to life.

"Ooo-ooo!" she said, looking at me like she just finished a month-long fast and I was made of chocolate.

"You're cuu-uute!"

Darmo House, Outside the Blue Room Botello felt the magical energy radiating from behind the closed door of the blue room like midday heat.

It was the best he'd tasted since draining both Anton and Cadmus, butmuch stronger. What was going on?

Then he remembered the power of the wizard he'd sensed earlier. Filima must have brought him in, somehow. What were they up to in there?

Nothing good for me, he thought, softly opening the door.

A wall of sweet-smelling incense rolled out to greet him. He fought to suppress the urge to gag, waving futilely at the haze. Why wasn't she using the usual mixture he'd made up for her? The stuff that gave her headaches, that kept her scrying sessions short, kept her from learning too much. Someone was interfering.

Faint light came from a single black candle, fragile symbol of protection. A delicious wash of energy, both magic and psychic, was blended with the incense smoke. He took care not to feed from it just yet, lest he alarm anyone to his intrusion before he'd found out everything.

Treading lightly, Botello entered the room, hand on his belt knife. He'd have preferred a sword, but couldn't manage it and ride a horse. No matter. He drew no attention from the people within and was able to get quite close so even Anton's faulty eyes could see.

The black velvet pavilion was down. Shehad been busy.

Four, no, five of them, counting the one lying on the floor in the middle of a power circle. The others were seated at the compa.s.s points around . . . gawds, that wasnot a man. Not with those bizarre features. Cadmus had mentioned a man with a cat's face, and Botello had glimpsed something of it the first time he'd tried to manifest. He'd thought the veils between the planes had distorted the size of an ordinary cat and had dismissed it as such. Perhaps this creature was the wizard, but why put on so fantastical a form?

The others-Cadmus and Velma were in their number. How hadshe gotten caught up in this? At least it explained how Cadmus had escaped. They'd slipped past the ducal hunting parties and probably babbled everything to Filima . . . who was right over there, his dear, dear,darling, wife Filima, along with a short, red-haired stranger in odd clothes. They all seemed to be in some form of light trance. Each held a clear crystal, eyes closed, heads held high, their breathing deep and measured. He could see the psychic link flowing between their auras, thin, but strong enough for their purpose, whatever that might be. It swirled thickest above the cat-man on the floor who also held a quartz crystal and a sword.

Sothat was it. The wizard was on an astral outing. Looking for the lost Anton, no doubt.

Well, we can't allow that to continue. Drawing his knife, Botello glided purposefully toward the wizard.

Darmo House, the Main Hall Sword in hand, Debreban tread very lightly indeed, head c.o.c.ked and ears straining for the least little sound. After finding a side door to the house left hanging open, his every instinct told him that Botello had slipped in. No time to call to Shankey for help; it might already be too late.

Debreban knew that the others were doing something magical and important to try to get the overduke back from h.e.l.l, but were they in the chamber in the tunnel or up in her ladyship's special blue room?

A strong smell of incense caught his attention. The chamber was too far away for anything like that to travel to the house. The special room, then.

He dashed up the stairs two and three at a time, moving soft and swift as a hunter. It was just possible, even in his st.u.r.dy boots. He had to worry about creaking floors, though. And anyone sneaking up on him. He edged along a wall to keep his back covered.

The door to the blue room was also wide open. Threads of incense smoke drifted out. He held his breath and peered inside.

Dark, except for one candle burning and a bit of light from the tall, narrow windows. He could make out four seated forms and a fifth figure lying on the floor. It was Myhr, apparently asleep. Looming over him was a tall, ominously familiar shape. Botello in the overduke's body. His back was to the door. None of the others seemed aware of him. None made a single move as he stooped over Myhr, a wicked, long knife in his hand raised to strike.

Debreban ran through his limited choices as he darted forward. He couldn't take Botello out by sword without killing the overduke, but he could crack him a good one from behind. With a lightning-quick shift, Debreban flipped his blade point-downward and slammed the hilt hard against Botello's skull.

Oh, yes, that made a very satisfyingwhack.

He'd been too gentle, though. Instead of falling, Botello staggered away with a pain-filled grunt. He tripped over Myhr's body and went sprawling. Debreban started after him, then froze as an uncanny wailing noise suddenly shot up from the chalk circle at his feet.

Magic. He didnot trust the stuff, had little faith in those who claimed to be able to control it. One might as well try to control the weather; it was just too great a power, and now it seemed to be in protest of whatever they were doing here.

The wailing rose high, filling the room. The thick incense smoke was caught and swirled around by a hot, sulfurous wind that swept in from nowhere. It plucked at his clothes, made him retreat.

Lord Cadmus suddenly opened his eyes. He stared down at Botello, then at Debreban, lips parting for speech. His voice was lost in the otherworld uproar. Filima and Velma also woke up; only Terrin the wizard and Myhr remained as they were. Botello pushed himself upright, turning. He squinted at Debreban, rage flooding his features.

Fearing another blast of fire more than the magic of the circle, Debreban charged forward. He leaped over Myhr, throwing himself bodily onto Botello, tackling him. For a few breathless moments they rolled wildly around the floor, cursing and punching. Debreban tried to get hold of the knife, at the same time bashing away with his hilt. Neither ploy worked, but it kept Botello from hurting anyone else.

The wind strengthened to gale force, howling around the circle like a confined beast. Debreban felt it seize hold of him like a giant, threatening to lift him up. It tugged at his legs, trying to pull him in. He kicked from its grasp. Still hanging on to Botello's knife hand, he tucked his head and tumbled forward. It was an awkward somersault; he landed on his side, but was clear of the wind.

Botello yelled agony for his sharply twisted arm, but still had fight in him. He brought his other hand up to take the knife, and lashed out. Debreban let go and rolled clear, blocking the thrust with the flat of his sword more by luck than skill. Botello made another swipe, but it fell short. He was being dragged into the circle by the wind.

Cadmus was on his feet now, unsteady, trying to brace against the storm force while making a grab for the knife himself. He managed to fall onto Botello, apparently landing hard, slowing him. He pinned Botello's arms and shouted. Debreban couldn't make out the words, but understood the intent. He reached into the flow and clubbed Botello's knife hand with the sword hilt. The knife fell free and went skittering over the floor. Debreban tried to grasp Botello's arms and drag him out, but the whirling force was too great; it would suck him in now.

Filima and Velma, their hair streaming, cried out as they were boosted right from their chairs. Cadmus quit Botello and stood to go to them, but was carried upward as well. They spun helplessly, three reluctant birds caught in a h.e.l.l-storm.

Debreban looked around, frantic for a rope to throw to them and spotted the discarded pile of black velvet draping. There had to be something in that mess he could use. He scrabbled over, digging quickly.

No cording, but the velvet itself might work. There were yards of it in yard-wide strips. He pulled a long piece clear of the tangle and knotted an end around one of the room's support pillars. The length extended to the circle, but only just.

He wrapped the other end around his left arm. The windstorm had taken on a funnel shape, the widest part on the floor. In the brief time he'd looked away, it had swept Botello and Terrin up into its chaos.

Myhr still lay oblivious on the floor. Debreban clutched hard on the velvet and leaned in.

It was like putting his arm in a vast fall of water. The wind was as solid as that, just as strong. He held on for his own dear life, but reached out, hoping to catch someone, anyone.

His hand closed around a limb, an arm, no time to see whose; he hauled for all he was worth to pull them both out of the maelstrom. He was weighed down for an awful yawning instant, then suddenly light.

Velma came sailing clear. She landed hard, rolling into the remaining pile of velvet.

He couldn't tell if she was alive, too busy. He dipped into the current again, but this time it was so fast he was bounced back out like a stone skipping over a lake. He tried once more. Failed.

The small top of the funnel was lowering, and something had changed about its base. Instead of a blue mosaic floor there was a deep, dark opening with a red glow far down in its center. The sulfur stench overcame the sweet incense. Myhr seemed to float on top of it, serenely insensible to the abyss beneathhim.

A blast of flame shot up around the edges of the circle, licking the high ceiling. Debreban fell back, covering his eyes. The heat beat him down; the roar deafened him.

And then . . . abrupt stillness.

The only movement he felt was his heart slamming against his ribs.

What . . . ?

He looked unbelieving on the aftermath.

Though the sulfur stink hung rotten on the air, there was no sign of fire or smoke. The floor was solidly where it had always been. The four chairs rested undisturbed within the circle. Velma lay just beyond-unmoving. The single black candle continued to burn steadily, untouched by the mad wind.

All the rest were all gone, though. All of them. Even the wizard. Only Myhr remained in place, and he was as still as death.

Chapter Eighteen.

In the Blue Limbo I was almost nose-to-nose with an X-rated cartoon come to life. A hot-literally-demon babe who was way too cheerful for my peace of mind. I kept the sword raised between us.

She looked it up and down and flicked that long blue tongue over her full blue lips. On her they worked.

"Well, honey, is that a sword in your hand or are you just happy to see me?"

"It's a sword," I said, trying to sound neutral, but my voice broke halfway through. I coughed to clear out the knot. "Who are you?"

She made a little yummy noise deep in her throat. Real deep. "Mmm.I am the stuff of dreams. The real fun ones, that is."

"Whose dreams?" I'd never had anything likeher surface in my subconscious. More's the pity.

"Anybody's."