Mark Chadbourn - Destroyer of Worlds

The warrior bowed his head silently for a moment. The flickering images behind him died away.

When he looked back up, he spoke quietly, but his voice was filled with emotion. 'If the Caraprix still infest this place, flee. Now. Go to the Groghaan Gate. Return to the Land of Always Summer and fill your heart with hope that you can run far enough and fast enough. Go to the Groghaan Gate and seek the Heart of the Drakusa. But beware: the way has been made treacherous to slow the vile beasts. Courage will prevail.' A pause. 'The Age of Warriors has passed.'

The warrior winked out and the room returned to normal. Reeling from his trance, Shavi staggered back until he was caught by Church.

'Bloody hell,' Veitch said. 'The Caraprix… back at the court.'

'So… what? They're just going to wipe us out?' Laura said.

'Like the spiders did on Earth,' Church said. 'Wipe everything out and start again.'

'What can we do?' Shavi asked.

'You can't do anything,' Tom snapped. 'This is bigger than you! You're just little cogs in a vast machine, turning slowly, not even knowing what you're doing. Following the pattern someone else has set for you.' He gnawed on a knuckle, long-stifled desperation breaking through his carefully devised exterior.

'Did you know the Caraprix were a threat?' Church asked.

'I don't know anything either, you idiot! I just see flashes of what's to come. Do I have to explain it to you again?' he said with bitter sarcasm. 'Disconnected images like the views from windows as you climb a tower. Who knows how they all link together? Who knows what it all means? Meaning can only be divined by a true perspective, and neither you nor I have that. We live in ignorance, and do our best as we fumble around in the dark.'

'What are the Caraprix?' Church pressed. 'Are they just the equivalent of the spiders-'

'I don't know!' Tom marched out of the chamber, a forlorn figure.

'I thought he was supposed to be our guide,' Laura said.

'He does his best,' Church said. 'We just don't do our best for him.'

The warrior's message hung heavily over them as they continued their journey, worming its way into their thoughts and infecting them with a mood of hopelessness.

'I thought the Caraprix were supposed to be close to Existence,' Ruth said to Church. 'Does this mean we've been lying to ourselves all along? That we're on the wrong side? Maybe the Libertarian is right — people don't want the torment of trying to be better than they are. All that insecurity and worry and struggle and pain. The things we've had to face. They just want to live in stability, with as much happiness as they can grasp before it all falls apart. The Mundane Spell might actually have been a blessing.'

Church had no answers for her questions, but her words struck a chord and he pondered them in silence as they continued through the gloomy halls.

Decebalus had risen with the sun, climbing the highest tower of the Court of the Soaring Spirit to get the clearest view across the Great Plain to the mountains and the sprawling Forest of the Night that bordered it. What he saw left him with a chill that even the warmth of the sun couldn't lift. Only the white-streaked mountaintops were visible, the forest not at all. The army surrounding the city was so large he had the impression of standing on a lighthouse on an island in the centre of a black, turbulent ocean. War machines belched out thick black smoke to fill the sky, mingling with the odd purple mist clinging to some of the enemy. Three Riot-Beasts came and went, their roving eyes revealing their idiot power that blasted out in a directionless fury that occasionally hit their own forces. It was like no army Decebalus had ever faced in his lifetime of battle. In his mind, he felt as if he was looking at a seething anthill, but what his eyes saw was even worse and his consciousness squirmed and skittered across it, refusing to accept the reality.

'They know we are not defenceless.' Lugh had joined him silently. 'They fear the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons in our midst, and they wonder what other powers we have at our disposal. As well they should. But they will attack soon enough.'

'What makes my blood boil is that this is no true battle. Its outcome is meaningless to the Enemy. It is simply a way of harrying and distracting the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons until the Void has claimed its place in this world. And yet we must fight, and we must die. And what do we gain?'

'Survival.' Lugh's face was drawn, yet to Decebalus he appeared to have grown in stature since the barbarian had first encountered him. 'All things under Existence are in peril. Extinction waits for Fragile Creatures and for gods. When the Void remakes this place, we will no longer be in it, replaced by supine peoples who will live in peace within the Mundane Spell, and never challenge the will of the Devourer of All Things.'

Decebalus nodded. 'You make sense, for a slippery manipulator of men. For all time, until this time, there was always a chance the Void could be deposed, however slim that chance might be. If this war is lost, there will never be a chance again. The Void rules, for all time.'

'And we play our part here, by distracting the Enemy and deflecting the bulk of its forces from hunting Jack Giant-Killer and his fellows. There is little glory in any victory here.' He smiled wryly. 'But we play a part, and sometimes that is enough.'

They were interrupted by a Sister of Dragons with dyed red hair. Her name was Sarah Mazzarella, a thoughtful and intuitive woman to whom Decebalus had given the onerous task of liaising with the gods. 'They're ready,' she said, her voice weary. 'They've agreed to accept your orders in the battle.' She glanced at Lugh. 'But no other.'

'As it should be,' Lugh said. 'We would only fight amongst each other if one of us tried to gain ascendancy.'

'You are an irritating and troublesome kind.' Decebalus sighed. 'It would be easier to herd cats with a stick and a flute.' He nodded to Sarah. 'Tell them we march onto the field of slaughter within the hour.'

'I may reword that,' she said as she left.

'You have a strategy in place?' Lugh asked.

'Yes. Run hard at the enemy and see if they fall down.'

Lugh eyed Decebalus, unsure if he was joking.

'I have a plan,' the barbarian said with a grin. He glanced towards the tower where smoke belched from the windows and lights flashed mysteriously. Math was hard at work.

As they made their way down towards their troops, there was a loud disturbance at the gate. Soon after, the chief of the guards ran breathlessly to them. 'The Enemy has sent an emissary to talk,' he gasped.

'We are not going to surrender!' Decebalus said.

Lugh caught his arm. 'Let us listen to what he has to say.'

At the gate, a skeletal figure in black robes with a sly smile and staring yellow eyes waited with three Redcaps who could barely contain their bloodlust. They all stank of rotting meat.

'Perhaps I should cut you down here, and save time,' Decebalus mused.

'What would it profit you?' The skeletal man nodded mockingly. 'I am Lorca, charged to speak for the one your kind knows as Seth, sole survivor of the Great Dominion of the desert lands, who commands this mighty force.'

'Ah. He seeks revenge.'

Lorca gave a chittering laugh. 'Revenge is for equals, Fragile Creature. We come here to…' With a wry expression, Lorca searched for words that Decebalus might understand and finally settled on, 'Save trouble.'

'Save trouble? Why, I have been looking forward to this fight for a long time. I have organised my week around it.'

'You wish to die so soon?'

'If needs must. But I have a bet on with the drinkers down at the Hunter's Moon. How many of you will I take with me? That is the question.'