Mark Anthony - Tower of Doom

The cursed bell was missing. Frantically, Mika searched the rafters to be sure. The place where it had hung was filled only with shadows.

Yet something here did not make sense. The only person who could have taken the beH was Caidin. But if it was Wort who had been shackled to the post, what had happened to him? Hope surged in her breast.

"Wort must still be alive! But where?"

Instinct told her that if she found Caidin, she would find Wort as well. Whatever fateful web entangled the lives of the two brothers had not unraveled yet.

Dashing from the tower, Mika ran recklessly through the keep, calling out for Wort and Caidin. As she did, servants and petty nobles alike gaped at her and leapt out of her path. She looked more like some specter risen from the grave than a living woman. Dark smudges stained her deathly pale face, and the shreds of her silken gown, stained with earth and blood, clung damply to her body. In minutes rumors spread through the keep. A White Lady haunted the corridors, folk whispered, crying out for Baron Caidin. All knew that when such an apparition named a person, the person was doomed to die before the following dawn. Soon Mika found herself moving down empty corridors, through empty chambers, and up empty stairways. The folk cowered in their chambers, fearing the White Lady.

Mika made her way to the Grand Hall, the armory, and Caidin's private chambers. There was no sign of Caidin or Wort in any of these places. Deciding to try the dungeons, she turned down a new passageway. Rounding a corner, she saw thick smoke sluggishly oozing out of an open doorway. She slowed, wondering if were safe to pass by.

Mika was nearly upon it before she saw the thing. It ' was a charred husk lying on the floor, half out of the doorway, half in. Only after a long moment did she realized what the shape was: a human body, blackened beyond recognition. Clamping a hand to her mouth to keep from gagging, she started to back away.

"Wait…"

The croaking voice was so faint she almost didn't hear it. Then it came again.

"Wait… Mika."

It was the burnt body. Somehow it was still alive. Mika shook her head in wordless horror. She commanded her legs to run, but they remained, as if rooted to the floor. The dark form stirred, reached out a withered hand toward her. Impossibly, it opened its eyes. They glistened feverishly in the wasteland of the face, like two green-gold gems. Mika knew those eyes.

"Lady Jadis," she choked, clutching the wall to keep from reeling. "But how… how can…?" She could not bring herself to say the sickening words. How can you possibly be alive?

Jadis answered the unspoken question in a parched whisper. "There is… death in Azalin› touch. But there is also life… undying." Horribly, she smiled, her singed lips crumbling to reveal teeth like small white pearls. "You seek… your lover, Doctor?"

Numbly, as if against her will, Mika found herself kneeling, bending closer to hear the Kargat's words. The rank odor of burnt flesh filled her lungs.

"Shall we… make another… bargain? I will tell you… where to find… Caidin. Then you… must do what I… ask of you."

Mika could only nod.

"Look for the baron… in the tower he built. It is… with the tower that he… will assail Azalin." Fpr a brief, agonizing time, Mika listened raptly as the burnt woman spoke, explaining in halting phrases Caidin's plan for using the tower on the moor to defeat Azalin. At last Jadis finished. She coughed weakly. Dark smoke issued from her ruined lips.

Mika started to stand. "I must go to the tower."

"Wait," Jadis hissed like a dying fire. "First you must… fulfill… our bargain."

"Yes, of course." Silently, with both pity and revulsion, she wondered what she could possibly do. "Shall I… shall I see to your wounds?"

Broken laughter shook the black husk on the floor. "No, you cannot… heal me, Doctor." The dry voice throbbed with sorrow. "My beauty has been… consumed. You cannot… give it back to me. No one… can."

"Then what do you want me to do?" Mika finally managed to whisper.

A burned hand reached out, its fingerbones like the talons of some dark bird.

"You know… Doctor. There is but… one thing."

At last Mika nodded. A sound of satisfaction escaped the withered form as it sank slowly back to the floor. Mika looked around until she saw what she needed. A pair of decorative sabers hung on the corridor's wall. She reached out and gripped one of the weapons. The hilt felt cool and smooth in her hand. She returned to the Kargat, steeling her will. Holding the saber tightly in both hands, she raised it above the burned woman.

Slowly, almost serenely, as though covered by dark cinders, the green-gold eyes closed.

"Forgive me," Mika whispered. The saber glinted sharply as it descended.

Alone, Baron Caidin of Martok stood in the highest chamber of his newly completed tower of war. His zombie slaves had performed their labor well. Everything about the dark spire spoke of strength and violence. Vaulted buttresses braced thick walls that would be able to withstand any attack. Slit-shaped windows would render the fiercest storm of arrows ineffectual. Not a single scrap of wood had been used in the construction, and thus not even a blazing inferno would be proof against it.

"The tower is invincible," Caidin said softly. He held up the darkly mottled Soulstone. "And this is the key to all its power."

Before him stood a low altar hewn of a single block of basalt. Weird symbols and arcane runes traced its surface, just as the darkling had described. In the center of the altar was a small depression, exactly the size of the stone. All he had to do was place the stone within the hollow. Then nothing would be able to stop him. The throne of Darkon would be his.

Once again, Caidin marveled at the ancient magic of the Soulstone. He had enjoyed using the stone to drain the life-forces of the victims of his false inquisition. The stone had transformed the hapless peasants into zombie slaves-but wondrous as that was, he had only begun to scratch the surface of the stone's potential. Now, trapped within the dark stone were hundreds of combined life-forces. With the proper ritual, those forces could be transferred to any inanimate object, granting it the ability to move and obey orders. That was the true greatness of the Soulstone.

"I wonder what the look will be on Azalin's face," Caidin mused with a self-satisfied smirk, "when he sees my living tower of war walk across the plains and stride right up to the walls of Avernus."

No army Azalin could raise would be able to block his way. The tower would crush them all beneath its ponderous weight. And that was only the beginning. Once he reached King Azalin's fortress, he would transfer the life-force from the tower to the stones of Avernus. The very walls of the castle would obey his commands. He could order the animate stones to attack Azalin's servants and imprison the king. Then all he had to do was pluck the crown from Azalin's head.

"I will turn Azalin's own fortress against him! His strongest defense will become his greatest weakness. And I will become king!"

Carefully, Caidin tucked the stone back into the pocket of his midnight-blue coat. He had a few extraneous affairs to tidy up before he set the wheels of his victory in motion. No doubt Jadis was even now desperately waiting for his return, so that she could tell him where he would find the courier, and therefore save her life-at least what was left of it.

Then there was Wort. Caidin's eyes rested upon the gleaming curve of the bell that hung above his head. The Bell of Doom. With its dark magic, he would be unbeatable. His tower was no longer simply a tower of war. It truly was a Tower of Doom.

Now, to test the bell and see for himself how its formidable curse worked. The rope dangled near the circular hole in the stone floor through which the bell had been raised. Caidin drew out the handkerchief he had taken from Wort and tied it to the rope. That way the three spirits would be certain not to mistake the token he offered them.