Mark Anthony - Tower of Doom

"What happened?"

"It was a dark midwinter's night. Two of the Old Baron's knights barged through the door of my cottage to tell me I was needed at the keep. They hardly gave me a chance to gather my things before bundling me into a carriage and hauling me up the tor. There I discovered that, not one, but two women were caught in the throes of labor, sharing the same birthing chamber. One was the Old Baron's wife, the baroness. The other was his mistress, a beautiful woman by the name of Kylene, whom some whispered was a witch. The baroness delivered her child first. It was a son, and at this news the Old Baron was joyous. As I examined the child, I could see that it was not well formed. Its limbs were ill-proportioned, its spine curved. The Old Baron flew into a rage. He might have throttled the child there and then, but the baroness clutched the infant to her breast.

"Moments later, Kylene gave birth. Her child was also a son, but this infant was strong and bonny like his father. It was then that the Old Baron concocted a foul scheme. 'I will not have a cripple for an heir,' he

Alone in her bedchamber, she studied her naked form in the mirror. Now there were dozens of the hand-shaped blotches all over her body. Some of them had merged into larger splotches of dark purple, ash gray, and livid green. None of the spots caused her pain. Instead, they were all disturbingly numb. She walked with a slight limp now, and the movement of her arms was clumsy. Then there was the smell. It was so faint that pthers might not have noticed it, but the odor was clear to her sensitive nose. It was the sweet, wet scent of decay.

Jadis peered over her shoulder to study the mottled blotches on her back. It was just as she feared. Each of the hand-shaped marks appeared in a spot where King Azalin had touched her flesh. A shiver coursed through her.

"Be brave, love." She tried to control her fear. "It is not too late. Not yet."

Cold air rushed into the chamber, accompanied by a rhythmic flapping sound. A shadow absorbed the morning light. She turned, hastily clutching a robe about her naked body, to see a huge raven alight on the windowsill. The ruby medallion at its throat glistened like wet blood.

"Goreon," she gasped.. "Greetings, Velvet-Claw." The raven cocked its head, staring at her. "I bring you news from our master in Avernus."

"What is it?" she snapped. "What does Azalin say?"

Goreon ruffled his ebony feathers. "He has heard. your message, and his reply is this: 'Forgive me, my Jadis. I do sometimes forget the frailty of living flesh. Return to me, and I shall make your delicious body pure once more.' "

Jadis let out a deep breath of relief. "Then I must journey to II Aluk at once."

"Wait," the raven croaked. "There is more."

Her blood froze in her veins.

"Our master also speaks thusly: 'But do not forget your duty, my Jadis. Do not return to Avernus before you have discovered Caidin's intentions. My love for you is nearly boundless. My wrath for servants who fail me is boundless.' "

Jadis could not suppress the shudder that racked her body.

Qoreon's scaly claws scratched against the stone windowsill. "Did I not warn you, Velvet-Claw? There is death in all the Wizard King touches."

Rage flared in Jadis's brain. She grabbed a heavy silver candelabra and hurled it at the raven. "Begone with you, carrion-eater!" she snarled. The dark bird fluttered into the air, easily dodging the missile. "Tell Azalin that I am, as ever, his loyal Kargat. Tell him that he will have the knowledge he seeks. Now away with you!"

She launched a heavy book at the window, but the raven had already spread its night-cloud wings to rise into the azure sky. Gradually, she forced her anger to cool.

"That's more like it, love," she murmured. "Now finish what you came here for, and when you return to II Aluk, Azalin will make you whole and beautiful again." Her flesh began to ripple in transformation.

It was midafternoon when Mika reached the cathedral. The forest parted to either side of the rutted track like a dark curtain, revealing the brooding ruins. She slipped from the back of the sturdy pony Lillen's husband, Elgar, had given her at Irsyla's stern command. The beast let out a nervous snort.

"I know." Mika stroked the pony's gray-velvet muzzle reassuringly. "I feel it, too. It's as though› something is watching over this place. A presence. Whatever it is, I don't think it wants us here." She tied the pony's reins to a tree branch. Fighting her trepidation, she walked slowly up the crumbling steps to the gaping doorway of the cathedral. The shadows swallowed her up as she stepped within.

The ruin looked to have been abandoned for centuries. Piles of rubble from the high-arched ceiling were heaped everywhere, and nettles pushed up through the cracked floor. Stone gargoyles leered down from high ledges, grins plastered on their weird mouths. A crimson miasma hung in the air, permeating the stones. The light came from stained-glass windows that seemed oddly out of place amid the decay and disintegration. They shone as brilliantly as they must have the day they were first raised into place, their myriad fragments of glass transformed into shards of sapphire, ruby, and emerald by the sunlight that poured through them. Three stained- glass windows high in the cathedral's nave captured Mika's attention. Slowly, she climbed the steps, gazing upward at the glowing windows. Each depicted a stern-faced knight clad in ornate, archaic armor, and bearing an antique broadsword. The mosaic had been fitted together so skillfully that the knights looked almost real-so real they seemed to follow her with eyes of smoked glass.

Shuddering, Mika forced her eyes away from the windows. She found herself staring at the broad slab of dark porphyry that must have served as the altar. Like everything in the cathedral, the altar was covered with a thick layer of dust-except in the center. Here, there was a perfectly round space where the stone shone glossily, a circle about as large as…

"Of course," she whispered excitedly. "This must be where Wort discovered the bell."

Cautiously, she began to explore around the altar and nave. After some time she could only sigh in frustration. She found nothing save ancient spider- webs and the small bones of rats and birds. She sat down on a fallen chunk of stone, resting her chin on a hand, wondering what she should do next.

That was when she saw them. They were almost completely obscured by dust and mold. Only now that the steep angle of sunlight cast deeper shadows could she just glimpse them. There were letters carved into the altar. She knelt, wiping away centuries of grime with her bare hands. At last she could make out archaic-looking words incised into the dark stone: In its breaking will the curse be lifted.

"That's it," Mika murmured in realization. "That's how to free Wort. The bell has to be broken."

Suddenly sure of what she had to do to, she gathered up her dress and turned to descend the steps. A strange sound halted her. It was an oddly dissonant chiming, like the tinkling of glass. The hairs on her arms pricked up. She stared at the floor in front of her. The glowing patches of colored illumination that fell from above were swirling and flowing. Slowly, Mika turned around, craning her neck upward.

The armored knights in the stained-glass windows were moving. Like living creatures, they stretched their arms and shrugged their shoulders, as if struggling to free themselves of their imprisoning restraint. With a sound like breaking crystal, the knights pulled themselves free of the lead outlines that held them in place. They jumped to the floor. Slowly, deliberately, holding their glass swords before them, the stained-glass knights began to advance on Mika. Their eyes glowed hotly as though the sun still illuminated them.