Cenotaph Road

Lan closed his eyes and muttered a simple detector spell, attempting to find what magical wards were at work. A dull throbbing attacked his temples, making his head feel as if it were a rotted melon ready to burst. He recognized no familiar spell. Pursuing the source of the aching in his head produced no useful information. Power of great magnitude flowed through the castle now, but to what end Lan failed to discern.

" Lan Martak, do you feel it, too?" came Krek' s voice, strong as ever.

" What is it?"

" Another path from this world has opened. Waldron Ravensroost has discovered the secret of opening gateways other than through the cenotaphs. He can come and go from this world at his own discretion. It is as I thought. An artificial Road!"

Lan considered this. Whatever the strange power that Krek possessed, he must have it in some small measure, too. While he couldn' t detect the fainter emanations from the " natural" Cenotaph Road, he did receive strong impressions from Waldron' s manufactured one. A threshold factor might be at work. But, as interesting as this was, and answering many questions Lan had, he wasn' t free to pursue it further. Velika must be his primary concern.

" The Road Waldron opens lies in that direction." Krek used a hairy leg to indicate the corridor perpendicular to the one they traversed. He stood and started down it on shaky legs. Lan ran and pulled the spider to a halt.

" Velika! We' ve got to rescue her first. Then we can explore this. Please, Krek. You can feel out where Surepta went. Tell me!"

" Hmmm? Oh, him. I seem to have lost the vibrations distinctive of his walk: Ahead lies a large number of soldiers. Perhaps one of them can be persuaded to answer your questions."

Lan Martak had never felt more torn in his life. The possession of the secret of interworld travel at will was a prize far exceeding a few jewels, even ones of the size, water, and clarity that he had so foolishly allowed to be stolen. But no prize, even the key to the Road, matched the treasure of Velika. He decided the best course to pursue was a rescue of the woman, then flight along Waldron' s Road to another world. That saved them the trouble of fighting their way from the interior of the enemy stronghold into a world already conquered by King Waldron' s grey- clad soldiers.

" Let' s continue, Krek, and you warn me of guards." Lan wiped the sweat from his forehead that formed in spite of the clammy dampness of the hallway. He settled his mind and dried his wet palms on the sides of the uniform tunic. His sword mustn' t slip when he met Surepta again.

" Ahead, ten paces past the junction of the corridors," came Krek' s monotone voice. The spider jerked his head to the left, indicating the direction of the posted guard. Lan took a deep breath, held it for an instant, then exhaled quickly. Tense, but more relaxed than before, he walked into the intersection, performed an admirable left face and marched up to the sentry.

The man was half a head shorter than Lan. This helped him cow the guard with a snapped command from superior height.

" Where is Kyn- alLyk- Surepta? I have an important message."

" Down this corridor and in the commons room with the two wenches. They get all the: what? You' re not a courier. Who are you?"

Lan' s fist punctuated the sentry' s question. As the man doubled over, a sharp knee to the chin put him out. Before he collapsed fully, Lan' s strong hands gripped under the man' s arms and pulled him to a nearby room.

" Krek? Is the room empty?"

The spider' s claws tapped lightly against the door panels.

" Yes, it seems so. No one answers my knock."

Lan sighed at the spider' s tactics but pushed into the deserted room. He dumped his prisoner on the floor and debated slitting the vulnerable throat. The idea didn' t appeal to him. Instead, he bound the man, using strips of material torn from the man' s uniform.

Pinching the unconscious guard' s earlobe until a tiny half- moon of blood appeared forced the man' s senses to return in a rush. The man shook his head, trying to avoid the fingernail gouging into his tender ear.

" St- stop it! Hurts!"

Lan slapped him, the echo of the blow ringing loudly in the empty room. The pain helped to further focus the soldier' s attention. When he saw Krek looming, almost three yards of furry menace, he turned as white as flour.

His words tumbled out, " I: I am a true believer. Why send me to the Lower Places, O Great Mi

" Silence," commanded Lan, slapping the sentry again. " You aren' t dead. Not yet. But you will be if you don' t answer my questions. Where is Kyn- alLyk- Surepta?"

" I t- told the truth. In the commons room, not half a hundred paces down the corridor. On the right. A huge door. Red leather with brass studs. A: a hydra knob to open the door. It: O Great One, why me?"

Krek moved closer and towered over the bound man. With a choked, incoherent cry, the man fainted. Krek bounced up and down on his rubbery legs and finally said, " You humans give up your senses so easily. Or did you frighten him too much?"

Lan didn' t bother correcting the spider' s mistaken opinions by telling him that the guard no doubt considered him to be a demon from the lowest levels of Hell. That would only cement the spider' s conviction that humans were frail and silly.

" We' ve got what we need from him. I doubt if he' ll come to soon. And if he does, the fear of eternal damnation will be upon him. But to make sure:" Lan tightly bound the man' s mouth with another strip of cloth from his tunic. " There. Now let' s find Velika."

" Yes, let us do that very thing. Perhaps then you will stop making all those silly noises about her."

The rollicking laughter from inside the commons room told Lan that he was too late. He pushed through the door and peered in at the scene, something out of a demented artist' s mind. Huge flames leaped toward the shadowed ceiling, fed by canisters of bottled gas at each corner of the room. The movements of the men were stroboscopic, jerky, unmistakable.

Velika lay on the central table, her skirts mostly ripped off. From the look on Kyn- alLyk- Surepta' s face and his obvious physical condition, Lan knew he' d arrived too late. The woman struggled weakly to fend off his amorous kisses, but the dishonor had been done.

Again Surepta had shamed Lan Martak.

A noise resembling two cats mating came to Lan' s ears. In the corner of the huge room stood Inyx, a wooden stick in her hand. She swung repeatedly at the general' s head every time he advanced on her. Although her clothing was ripped, Lan didn' t doubt for an instant that her honor remained intact. She jabbed viciously at the soldier' s head, then followed it with a looping kick to his groin. He grunted, taking the brunt of the kick on crossed forearms.

" Damn, but you' re a feisty one," he muttered. " Surepta has already had his pleasure. Why not surrender yourself to me gracefully? You will like it, I promise!"

" The promise of a slime- pig. Kill me or let me go. I accept nothing else!" Inyx kicked out again, this time sweeping the man' s foot from under him. He fell in a pile of thrashing arms and legs. A hard blow from the chair leg she brandished put him out of the fight temporarily. But instead of ru

" Scum!" Inyx flared. The wooden rod whished through the air and landed on Surepta' s unprotected kidneys. He howled in anguish and turned to face his attacker.

" So he failed with you, eh? A woman such as you needs to be tamed by a real man." Surepta stood and moved lithely to one side, avoiding a second blow from her club. " You' ll be more exciting than this passive lump of flesh." Surepta paused, a look of confusion crossing his sharp features. He looked down at Velika and the tears streaming down her cheeks. His hand worked against his tunic as if he wiped away grime. Only a damp spot from the woman' s tears appeared on the lush fabric. " Still, she had her moments," he said in a choked voice. Then his normal arrogance flared back. " She might have been dead for all the pleasure I got from her!"