David Gemmell - Waylander III - Hero In The Shadows

Ustarte considered his words. 'He cannot be the loachai,' said Ustarte. 'You say the boy is around eight years old? No child could summon the power of an Ipsissimus, no matter how gifted. Nor do I believe anyone of that age would radiate such consummate evil.'

'Beric is a fine boy,' said Niallad, moving out of the darkness. 'I like him greatly. There is no evil in him.'

'I like him too,' said Waylander, 'but something is not right here. Eldicar told me he did not summon the demons to my home. I believed him. He spoke of Deresh Karany.'

'I know this man,' said Ustarte, her voice cold. 'He is vile beyond all imaginings. But he is a grown man. I would have sensed it had there been more than one Ipsissimus.'' She turned to Niallad. 'You must pardon my intrusion, but I am reading your thoughts, and I need to see events through your memories. Think back to the night your parents were killed.'

'I don't want to do that,' said Niallad, backing away.

'I am sorry,' said Ustarte, 'but it is vital. Please, Niallad.' The young man stood very still. He took a deep breath, and Waylander saw that he was gathering his strength. Then Niallad nodded to Ustarte and closed his eyes.

'Now I see,' whispered Ustarte. 'The boy is there. You see him. He is standing alongside the magicker.'

'Yes, I remember. What point are you making?'

'Think back. How did he seem to you?'

'He was just standing there, watching.'

'Watching the slaughter?'

'I suppose so.'

'His face shows no emotion. Not shock, not surprise, not horror?'

'He is just a child,' said Niallad. 'He probably didn't understand what was happening. He is a wonderful boy.'

Ustarte swung and looked across at Keeva and Emrin. 'All of you are smitten by the boy. Even Matze Chai, as he faced torture, could think only good thoughts of Beric. This is not natural, Grey Man,' she said. She returned her gaze to Niallad. 'Think back now over all the times you have been with Beric. I need to see the events myself.'

'It is not that often,' said Niallad. 'The first time was in the Grey Man's palace. He and I went to the beach.'

'What did you do there?'

'I swam, Beric sat on the sand.'

'He did not swim?'

Niallad smiled. 'No, I teased him about it and threatened to carry him into the water. I reached down but he grabbed on to a rock and I could not lift him.'

'I do not see a rock in your memory,' said Ustarte.

'There must have been. I almost tore my back trying to prise him away.'

Ustarte reached out and took Niallad by the arm. 'Picture his face, as well as you can. Look at it closely. I need to see it! Every detail.' She stood very still, and Waylander saw her jerk, as if stung. She backed away from Niallad, her eyes wide with fear. 'He is not a child,' she whispered. 'He has become a meld-creature.' Waylander moved alongside her.

'Tell me!' he said.

'Your suspicions were correct, Grey Man. Eldicar Manushan is the loachai. The one who appears as a child is Deresh Karany – the Ipsissimus.'

'It cannot be,' whispered Niallad. 'You are wrong!'

'No, Niallad. He is radiating a charm-spell. All who come close are deceived by it. It is fine protection. Who would suspect a golden-haired and beautiful child?'

Ustarte walked away, lost in fearful memories. She had crossed a gateway between worlds to escape Deresh Karany's evil. And now he was here – and all her hopes of victory seemed suddenly frail, as insubstantial as woodsmoke.

She should have known he would come. She should have guessed it would be in a different form. Deresh Karany had become obsessed with the mysterious magic of the meld. He had realized through Ustarte that the possibilities went far beyond the mere physical. The correct balance could enhance the powers of the mind. Already virtually immortal, Deresh desired more. Conducting increasingly grisly experiments on his hapless captives, he sought the key that would unlock the secrets of the meld.

Ustarte had become his passion. She shuddered at the memory. He worked on her endlessly, seeking to find the source of her ability to change form. One day he had her strapped to a table. Sharp knives opened her flesh, and Deresh removed one of her kidneys, replacing it with a spell-charged organ taken from a failed meld. The pain had been indescribable and only Ustarte's great strength had saved her from madness. As she lay in her cell recovering she felt the organ stir within her, like a living creature. Tendrils slid from it, probing along the muscles of her back and into her lungs. Ustarte had gone into a terrible spasm. Her life was being drawn from her, and in her panic she threw herself into the change. The creature within her was crushed, but one tiny tendril broke off and fled deep into Ustarte's skull, nestling against the base of her brain. There it died. Poison seeped from its corpse, hot and burning. Tiger-Ustarte roared furiously, slashing her great paws against the walls of the cell, ripping out great chunks of plaster. Then, as she had with the first poison used on her, Ustarte absorbed it into her system, breaking it down, rendering it harmless. It could no longer kill her, but it did change her.

When Ustarte awoke, back in her own form, she felt different. Faintly dizzy and nauseous she had sat upon the floor, amid the ruins of the furniture torn to shreds by her tiger self. Suddenly her mind opened, and she heard the thoughts of every man and creature within the prison. Simultaneously. The shock made her scream, but she did not hear it. Her mind was full to bursting. Resisting panic, she tried to focus, creating compartments of the mind, which she closed against the tumultuous roar. The most powerful of the thoughts would not be shut out, for they were born of agony.

And they were coming from Prial. Two of Deresh Karany's assistants were experimenting on him.

Anger flooded through Ustarte, and a pulsing, volcanic rage began to build. Rising from the floor she focused on the men – and reached out. The air around her seemed to shiver and part. A fraction of a heartbeat later she found herself standing alongside the torturers within one of the meld-rooms on the other side of the prison. Ustarte's talons ripped through the throat of the first man. The second tried to run, but she leapt upon his back, bearing him to the ground. His head struck the stone floor, shattering the bones of his face.

Ustarte freed Prial.

'How did you . . . ?' whispered Prial. 'You . . .appeared from the air.' There was blood upon his fur, and several implements were still embedded in his flesh. Gently Ustarte eased them clear.

'We are leaving now,' said Ustarte.

'The time has come?'

'It has come.'

Closing her eyes she pulsed a message to all of the meld-creatures within the prison. Then she disappeared.

The apartments of Deresh Karany were empty, and she recalled that he had gone to the city to meet with the Council of Seven. Deresh had plans to open a gateway between worlds and invade once more an ancient realm that had defeated them so many years before.

From outside came the sound of splintering timbers and screaming men. Ustarte walked to the window and saw the creatures of the meld swarming across the exercise ground. Guards were fleeing in terror. They did not get far.

An hour later Ustarte led the one hundred and seventy prisoners out into the countryside, high into the forested mountain slopes.

'They will hunt us down,' said Prial. 'We have nowhere to go.'

His words were proved true within days, when Kriaz-nor troops and hunt-hounds began scouring the forest.

The escapees fought well, and for a time enjoyed some small victories. But gradually they were whittled down, and forced further into the high country. Some of the prisoners took off on their own, moving still higher into the snow, others were sent by Ustarte in groups to seek freedom to the east or the south. Disfigured and malformed as they were, she warned them to avoid the haunts of men.