World of Mazes

" He' s down the street, south of Mittervault Avenue," the man finally said. " But don' t tell anyone I even know where his spittin' Fine Rooms are."

" Fine Rooms are something magical, aren' t they?"

" You pay extra. Len- Larrotti must be doing very well. He paid off his loan to Odissan."

" A loan arranger?"

" A thief," the man declared bitterly. Lan didn' t have to ask who else owed this Odissan money.

" Thanks for the information." Lan stepped out of the shop, then froze. A half- dozen soldiers trooped down the street. Their captain' s quick eyes darted everywhere, studying every pedestrian. Lan was positive he and Krek couldn' t elude the woman, even for an instant. He turned north and walked along just fast enough to stay in front of the soldiers.

" They will spot me soon," said Krek. " I cannot mingle as well as you do in human crowds."

" You can' t mingle at all, dammit," snapped Lan. " Look for somewhere to hide." He didn' t see any place. He felt hot eyes boring into his back. The woman must have seen him. She couldn' t have missed him, not with Krek stalking along beside.

There wasn' t anywhere to go.

" Good ladies and gentle sirs," came a familiar voice, " I am the best qualified because I am honest. Honest, I say, unlike our current Lord. Jonrod the Flash shares his illusions with those who vote for him. Have any of you seen anything this spectacular? It' s all yours today, tomorrow, every day until the election- and for a complete term if you elect me Lord of the Twistings."

Two story- tall apparitions bellowed and stalked one another in the street. Lan grabbed one of Krek' s legs and pulled him forward. They were caught up at the fringes of the crowd watching Jonrod' s illusions battle each other to bloody pulps. As the behemoths sagged, Jonrod refreshed them with new and even more startling creatures. Krek fit right in, hardly noticeable among the truly outrageous creations Jonrod shared with his electorate.

Lan saw the grey- clads advancing, more to watch than act. He moved away from their captain and stood beside Jonrod, leading the cheers and acting as shill for the man. Only by being obvious could he hope to avoid capture. He had to fit in and making a fool of himself was the only way to do it.

Jonrod turned to him and asked in a low voice, " Is that your illusion? The big, furry spider? It' s good."

" Be glad to share it."

" Really? You support me so strongly for Lord?"

" I oppose them." Lan lifted his chin and indicated the tiny knot of soldiers.

" I see," said Jonrod, stroking the stubble on his chin. " We have much in common. Are you fleeing them?"

" Yes." Lan saw no reason to lie. Jonrod had committed himself as opposing Claybore' s troops. Still, a shifty expression crossed the candidate' s face only to be masked by his painted- on public smile. He spun and turned back to his crowd.

" A vote for Jonrod is a vote for illusion! Everyone deserves illusions. Why should only the rich be allowed into the park? I' ll give every common voter- every one who votes for me- even better thrills than are to be found inside Knokno' s precious park." That sparked audience delight.

He continued making exuberant promises until his battling illusions faded away. But by this time, the soldiers had also gone. Lan Martak breathed a sigh of relief.

Jonrod finally turned to him and said, " Let' s go to my campaign headquarters and discuss this further. I do like your skillful manipulatings of this." He reached out and stroked along Krek' s leg. The spider flinched away, mandibles clacking in ominous warning. " Very nicely done," congratulated Jonrod. " Sound, texture, sight. Hard to do all at once. I ought to know. I' ve made a lifetime' s work out of illusioneering."

Lan walked along briskly, watching for more soldiers. They arrived safely at Jonrod' s headquarters. His workers- if there even were any, and Lan failed to detect any indication there were- had gone for the night, leaving the rooms bare and silent.

" Sit, enjoy some food." The paltry rations Jonrod set out convinced Lan that this candidate had little backing in his attempts to unseat the current Lord of the Twistings.

Still, Jonrod provided some small start. He opposed Claybore' s grey- clad soldiers.

" Why do you want the job as Lord?" he asked Jonrod.

" Why? The man is evil, demented, totally insane! Even worse, he' s still popular. That makes him a danger to all of Dicca."

" Where does he stand on the civil war being fought?"

" War, what war?" Jonrod appeared genuinely perplexed. But then, Lan decided Jonrod had never had a genuine reaction in his life. All for him was fraud.

" I saw howlers battling in the air outside Dicca. I talked a little to a downed pilot. Somewhere armed opposition to the greys continues. Is the Lord aiding the soldiers openly?"

" Yes."

Lan sighed. The answer had come too quickly for him to believe it. Jonrod agreed simply to win over Lan. He had dealt with illusion so long, he no longer separated it from reality.

" Why do they call you the Flash?" Lan asked, shifting directions in the conversation.

" My illusions: I am a master at flame and brilliant bursts. I' m saving that for election day. The sky will light with my face. It will be the masterstroke that wins me the election."

" What exactly do you win? Lord of the Twistings indicates something called the Twistings to be Lord over."

The man scowled, then said, " You are truly from far off. The Twistings is the current Lord' s most potent weapon."

Lan waited for Jonrod to explain further. When nothing more was forthcoming, he asked, " Where are the city' s sorcerers?"

" Where? Gone. All gone," said Jonrod. " And glad I am of that, too! They were competition. They refused to join in the elections; they actually insisted on selling their illusions."

" They only did illusions?"

" More. They created slimy, slithery things. Real things." For Jonrod, reality was anathema. " Screeching things that burned in the air and whistling tornados that sucked the air from a man' s lungs. Watery beasts and horrid little things that dug around in the earth. They were odious people. Never very friendly or outgoing. Glad to see them leave Dicca."

" They left about the time the soldiers came?"

" Yes, I suppose they did. At any rate, that' s when the Lord began cozying up to them. They obey him, though."

" As if he has something they want?" Lan began putting the pieces together. Claybore came to this world for a reason. With the Kinetic Sphere able to shift his skull and torso to any world he chose, something here had to draw him. If the Lord of the Twistings held some part of the sorcerer' s body, that would be impetus enough to forge a military presence on this planet.

" Perhaps," answered Jonrod, obviously not willing to commit himself.

" We' ll do what we can to get you elected. Are there others opposing the Lord?"

" ' We'?" demanded Jonrod. " You said ' we.' There are others?"

" The pair of us is more than ample for most emergencies," stated Krek.

" Your illusion sounds good, too," complimented Jonrod. " You have excellent control. No wonder you think in terms of ' we.' You must live night and day with this image to have it so much under control. It is most remarkable."

" It escapes my control at times," admitted Lan, a smile darting across his lips. He motioned for Krek to remain silent. The arachnid hadn' t liked being referred to as " it."

" Oh, the time!" Jonrod exclaimed. " I am late for an appointment with a very important and beautiful lady. She offers money for the campaign. Do you: two: wish to remain here while I solicit? It won' t take me long."

" I could use the rest," said Lan. " Go on. We' ll wait for you."

" Be back soon," promised Jonrod the Flash as he left.