World of Mazes

" What a duplicitous little node of a human," observed Krek without rancor.

" Allying ourselves with him- for a while- gives us a base," explained Lan. " And I need some time to read through Abasi- Abi' s grimoire. There are some items in it I intend studying that seem appropriate for this city."

He began reading in the book of magical spells, silently chanting, trying to get a feel for what they did and how they operated. He had been lucky to shift the death beam away back in the forest. One small slip and he' d have ended up smoky ruin. There had to be better spells to forestall that particular weapon.

Less than a half- hour after Jonrod left on his money- gathering mission, Krek interrupted the studies. The spider nudged Lan' s shoulder with a curved talon.

" What is it?" he asked, annoyed at being disturbed. But he heard the scraping sounds. He jumped to his feet, instinctively whipping out his sword.

The door burst open. The captain of the grey- clad soldiers he' d seen earlier stood in the doorway, a death tube in her hand. The set of her body, the expression on her face, told Lan she' d kill him in a flash of fiery death if he moved a muscle. He dropped his useless sword.

" Good," she said. To a man behind her, she called, " Pay off Jonrod. We have them."

Lan felt rage mounting inside. He hoped that the coin they paid Jonrod the Flash was as illusory as that man' s integrity.

Inyx become increasingly haggard and gaunt. Reinhardt- Luister len- Larrotti- tried to make her eat, but she refused. She felt like an addict clinging to the image of her dead husband. She needed it for life, yet letting that image into her life destroyed her. Inyx tried to muster enough strength to again attempt escape from Luister lenLarrotti' s Fine Rooms. To no avail. His magics were too strong. Whatever the physical price he paid for such potent magic, he had every opportunity to recoup his strength.

He ate ponderous amounts of food. His sexual appetites, not to mention those of the patrons, kept her exhausted. She got little thrill from making love to her dead husband a dozen times a day, yet Reinhardt' s image still held her in thrall. Inyx knew this was the product of magics; len- Larrotti turned real love into equally real bonds on her.

She' d die soon. But not until the man had made a handsome profit off her.

Inyx had given up crying and merely sat listlessly staring out into Lossal Boulevard at the anxious, lustful faces peering in at her. The man kept up a constant flood of illusion to entice prospective customers. Inyx no longer cared. Her spirit had been beaten down too many times- and over all loomed the illusion of Reinhardt.

She heard voices arguing outside her door. She didn' t care. Odissan had returned, expecting to be denied his money. Luister lenLarrotti had paid. She had earned her captor much. But with Odissan came a new voice, one equally as commanding as the loan arranger' s. That air of haughtiness rang out and brought Inyx from her stupor.

" I want her, Luister. Now."

" Odissan told you about her. He wants my Fine Rooms for himself. I paid that spittin' bastard. You two are in this together."

A thud told Inyx that the visitor had struck len- Larrotti. She doubted the fat man could easily regain his feet. The door to her room opened and, looking past, the scene confirmed her guess. Luister lenLarrotti lay asprawl, his head cocked to one side. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth while red bubbles welled up along his split lip. With one punch her saviour had removed len- Larrotti.

Her eyes left the supine form of her captor and worked upward. The grey cuffs told her what she feared most. By the time she came to the gold stars and red crosses on the man' s sleeves, she knew.

Claybore' s commandant had found her.

" I am Alberto Silvain," he introduced himself. He bowed gracefully from the waist, his dark eyes never leaving her. " It is my privilege to be commander of the guard for this world."

" You' re one of Claybore' s flunkies."

" You might say that. I would say that my position is somewhat elevated from mere flunky, however. I control this world for Claybore. He gives me free rein."

" The Lord of the Twistings rules in Dicca."

" The Lord rules much of this world. It is to him, in fact, that I am taking you. He tires of the long hours spent in campaigning. He desires some little diversion. Word had reached him of Luister lenLarrotti' s Fine Rooms. What a nice idea this is, creating an entire ambience for sexual congress. It had never been tried on this scale before, for whatever reason."

" The locals aren' t too inventive."

" Yes, there is that," he said, nodding in agreement. Inyx took in a deep breath, then released it slowly. Alberto Silvain had just admitted he was not from this world. Like so many of Claybore' s commanders, he had been trained elsewhere, then offered a world. He had walked the Cenotaph Road, also.

" They live in illusion," the dark- haired woman went on. " It blurs their minds and keeps them slaves to the Lord."

Silvain laughed harshly. " That is only part of it."

" You' re taking me to Claybore?"

" Claybore is: elsewhere. I am in complete charge. I feel your presence in the Lord' s court might cement the already great friendship between two great rulers."

" Claybore and the Lord of the Twistings," Inyx said bitterly.

Silvain smiled urbanely and only nodded. He indicated that Inyx was to precede him from the room. She watched carefully for an opening, but Silvain was not only sophisticated in manner and attitude, he was a cautious soldier. He gave her no chance to escape.

Inyx kicked Luister len- Larrotti as hard as she could when she came to his fallen, bloated form. The man grunted, then rolled to protect himself. She jumped when an electric crackling sounded and a beam of lambent radiance touched len- Larrotti. He shrieked, then died, a hole burned completely through his torso. Alberto Silvain snapped the cylinder he held back onto a ring in his belt.

" The Lord awaits you," was all he said.

Inyx lifted her chin and stalked out. Silvain had robbed her of her revenge against Luister len- Larrotti. For that, if nothing else, he would die. She vowed it.

" There aren' t any walls around the palace," she said in wonder. " Doesn' t the Lord of the Twistings fear for his life?"

" Walls are needed only by despots. They can keep you in as much as they keep something else out," observed Silvain. " The Lord has much more powerful allies to guard his palace."

She saw immediately what Silvain meant. While the man' s outward facade never changed, she felt him stiffen slightly as the slavering beasts attacked. Fully twenty feet tall, the creatures waved small, ineffectual hands in front of them. The real horror came in their powerfully muscled jaws. Clacking shut with fearful determination, those knife- edged teeth threatened to rend and rip and dismember.

And the hunger in those beasts' eyes was more than she could take. She involuntarily cringed and stepped back. Silvain moved so that he interposed his body between her and the creatures.

The man laughed, but it wasn' t an easy laugh.

" Those are only illusion."

" I was almost killed by a tiger image in the park. Illusion' s can kill."

" On this world, you are correct," he said. " Do not forget it. The Lord controls these images. If he had not desired your presence, they would have torn you apart."

" Would they have eaten, also?"

" They' re only illusions," he said, shrugging. " If it pleased the Lord to have them dine, they would. Otherwise, he' d tire of their antics and go play elsewhere."

They entered the front doors of the palace. Inyx had seen more opulence and bad taste in designing a ruler' s residence, but never had she seen that opulence shift and change even as she watched. She had the passing sensation that all this was unreal, that if she reached out and grabbed, the jewels would turn to mist and the gold would melt like butter in the noonday sun.