Wayfarer Redemption - Pilgrim Part 82

Like Goldman, Faraday and the other two women now also herding their charges through the enchanted doorways with renewed urgency, the badger recognised the voice as a sham. An enchantment, although he was not sure of the mechanics or origins of its making.

No! No! he commanded, Do not attend. This is - He got no further. A clutch of cows hurtled about the corner and knocked him against the wall.

They did not stop, nor even look at their commander.

They were attending the voice.

Within moments the majority of the animals and demented humans which had invaded Carlon were dashing 660.

back the way they'd come, slipping and sliding in their haste to obey. Some ran straight into burning buildings in their haste, re-emerging on fire, and setting fire to their companions thronging the streets leading back to the main city gates.

No! No! the badger cried, but it was too late, they would not listen to him, they were desperate ... desperate .. . desperate ... and the voice became more insistent, far more commanding.

They were running for the Lake to attend the Maze which surely was about to rise at any moment. There was something in that Maze that the animals knew they would adore, venerate, worship, and which they were sure would adore them in return.

And now it called!

Run! Run! Run to be the first among the ranks lining the Lake!

The badger gave up trying to reason with the mobs fleeing through the streets. He communed with the Demons, letting them see with his eyes what was going on, letting them hear what was ringing through the cinder streets of Carlon.

He struggled to his feet and trotted down an alleyway, thinking to take a shortcut through to the main avenue leading to the gates, when he ran headlong into a man wearing a short white robe and one of the birdmen, a sword in his hand.

"What a nasty mind you have," Goldman said to the badger which had skidded to a halt a bare pace from him.

The badger hissed, and sent everything he saw and heard back to the Demons.

Drago opened the door revealing a disgruntled - and extremely bewildered - Herme.

"What was that voice?" Herme said. "Attend who?"

"A sham," Drago said shortly. "And one that will not last for long. Herme, this city has become an oven. Within half an hour no-one will be able to survive within its limits. If there is 661.

anyone left in this quarter of the city, then get them to the doorway now"

As Herme huried off, Drago spared a moment to look about him. The ancient Icarii palace had thus far survived the flames, and Drago wondered whether, like the hidden city of the Minaret Peaks, it could survive just about any disaster relatively intact.

Well, if it survived this fire, it would find itself sheltering a dark master indeed. The feathered lizard rubbed against his legs, and Drago smiled a little and rubbed its head.

"Did you enjoy the taste of sheep, my friend?"

The lizard grinned.

The badger growled as ProudFlight advanced a step.

"Mind, young man," Goldman said, "this one is particularly nasty." In truth, Goldman was intrigued. He found that he could see inside the badger's mind, or, at least, understand some of the thoughts that were chasing themselves about the badger's head.

"Wasn't that a clever enchantment?" he said, his tone condenscending. "And a clever, clever badger to be able to see through it."

A shifting ma.s.s of shadows loomed behind the badger's eyes, and Goldman abruptly realised that there was more intelligence and knowledge in those eyes than he'd originally reckoned with.

"Who are you?" a voice hissed from the badger's mouth.

Goldman licked suddenly dry lips. The voice was horribly reminscent of the voice that Drago had conjured up, and Goldman realised he was speaking to one of the Demons.

Which? he wondered.

"Sheol," the voice hissed, and the badger squatted a little and urinated on the cobbles.

"And a fine good afternoon to you, Mistress Sheol," Goldman said pleasantly. "And now ... if you'll excuse me . . ."

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He began to step about the badger, but then felt something reaching out from the animal, something that promised frightful agonies if it reached him. He gasped, stunned, but just as he felt the power touch him ProudFlight plunged his sword into the nape of the badger's neck.

The power dissolved instantly, and Goldman relaxed in relief. He raised his head to thank the birdman, but ProudFlight simply grabbed him and hustled him back towards the building - now leaning precariously to one side - where glowed their enchanted doorway. When they finally attained the chamber, Goldman suddenly, desperately, remembered the cats, and he turned back to the door leading to the corridor.

"What are you doing?" ProudFlight yelled.

"The cats -"

"The cursed cats can look after themselves. Get through that door now!"

Goldman grabbed the birdman's arms, meaning to shove him to one side, but the birdman was much stronger than he, and in the full pride of Icarii youth, and Goldman stood not a hope against him.

The last thing he saw as ProudFlight shoved him through the glowing door was the ceiling collapsing in a shower of sparks and flaming debris.

The Demons sat their mounts, thinking. What was that, who was that, the badger had spoken to?

There had been a power in him. Something unexpected and, while the man had not been able to use it effectively, the potential was enough to fret at the Demons' minds. They shared their visions and thoughts with StarLaughter, thinking she might be able to explain it.

But StarLaughter shook her head, just as puzzled.

Desperate to solve the riddle, the Demons then allowed WolfStar to share what they'd seen.

"What is it, this power within this man?" Sheol asked.

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But WolfStar shook his head. "I do not know," he said, and then grinned. "But I think the StarSon is gathering to his side his lieutenants for the battle."

For that he paid. Dearly.664*

66.in the Corridor!

The chamber was still crowded as the evacuees Herme and his men had found within nearby tenements filed through the doorway, but even so Drago felt the arrival of Goldman and the Lake Guard who'd been with him.

He turned in time to see them step through air that appeared to ripple slightly, as a still pond that shelters deep secrets. It was the first time Drago had witnessed how Spiredore nonchalantly inserted someone into the spot they'd named.

"Well? "Drago said.

"Everyone we could find in our quarter has been moved through the doorway," Goldman said, patting a pocket in his robe where he'd stored the folded doorway.

"Everyone alive," ProudFlight said. "Except the cats," Goldman muttered.

"The cats?" Drago said.

"They disappeared when we were leading the last of the Acharites through," ProudFlight said. "Goldman feels he should have saved them."

Drago put a hand on Goldman's shoulder. "They were not your responsibility."

Goldman nodded unhappily, and Drago tightened his hand momentarily.

"Were you responsible for the bells, Goldman?"

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Goldman managed a small smile, glad of the change in topic. "A good idea, was it not?"

"Yes," Drago said. "But if you'd told me about it sooner it might have saved everyone some trouble."

"I am an aging man, Drago, and the weight of my years has addled my wits."

Drago snorted, then addressed ProudFlight. "Split the Lake Guard you have with you into three and then use Spiredore to go aid Faraday, Gwendylyr and Leagh."

ProudFlight nodded and turned aside.

Drago walked over to the window, and Goldman joined him. His face sobered as he looked outside. Carlon was eating itself up. Most roofs were well alight, and walls and floors crumbled under the heat and the weight of collapsing beams. Many streets were now impa.s.sable, or completely inundated with piles of glowing rubble.

Goldman blinked back tears, his distress over the cats exacerbated by the sight before him. Carlon was his home, yet far more than just a "home". It was a place of vibrant life and laughter, of tender love and the exquisite pain that love brings, and the very heart of a realm.

Yet here it was dying, and Goldman could barely tolerate the screams of nails tearing from toppling walls and stone exploding centuries old constructions.

"We must rebuild," he said. "We cannot let Carlon lie in ruins."

Drago took a moment to answer, and when he did he did not look at Goldman.

"Carlon will never be rebuilt," he said. "This is a final death."

Goldman was about to protest when he realised the depth of sadness on Drago's face. He bowed his head, took a deep breath to bring his emotions under control, then looked out the window again.

'He could not bear the agony of the city, and so Goldman looked further out to the tens of thousands of 666*

creatures ma.s.sed about the Lake. For the first time in months all their attention was on the water rather than Carlon itself.

Some were paddling about in the shallows, some swimming over the shadows of the rising Maze, all were concentrating on what they thought was the voice of Qeteb speaking to them from the heart of the Maze.

Even as he watched, the voice sounded again.

Obey me, and I will give you all you desire.

Goldman glanced at Drago, noting the very slight movement of his lips.

"That is a deft enchantment," Goldman said.

"It will not work for very much longer," Drago said. "Already some animals are becoming . . .

'disenchanted'," his lips twitched, "and are turning away from the Lake. Their master is taking his time, it seems, about granting their every wish."

Drago leaned out the window and surveyed the street immediately below the palace. "Nevertheless, it has given my three girls -"

Goldman noted with some humour the proprietorial way Drago said "my three girls".

"- time enough to complete the emptying of their quarters."

"I ran into a badger," Goldman said, "a most ingenious badger. I found ..."

Goldman paused, again wondering at the depth of experiences that now suffused his being. When would he find the time to fully explore it?

"I found that I could see inside its mind."

Drago looked at Goldman. "Really?"

"Aye. And most disturbing it was, too. This badger knew the voice was a trick, but could not persuade his comrades to believe him."

Goldman paused. "He was a special badger, and I spent a moment or two talking with him."

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Drago's eyes narrowed. "That was dangerous, my friend."

Goldman nodded. "That badger's mind connected directly to the Demons. One of them, Sheol, spoke to me through the badger's mouth -"

"What! What did you tell her?"

"Nothing! But..."

"But?"

"But I think she realised that I was, ah, something 'other' than she, or her companions, had ever expected to encounter."

The Demons must be truly worried by now, Drago thought. When they'd destroyed the Star Gate, they had thought to have destroyed the most powerful well of enchantment in Tencendor - the Star Dance. All the power that remained was that which emanated from earth and trees, and that the Demons knew they could deal with once Qeteb was resurrected.

What they had never known - what no-one had known - was that the Star Dance lived on within the craft, and literally within the land itself.

Well, very soon they were going to work it out.

But not before . . . G.o.ds! not before he had a chance to get into the Maze. Without understanding why, Drago understood that whatever else happened, he had to enter the Maze before the Demons did.