Deathstalker Coda (60 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Deathstalker Coda
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And he heard Investigator Frost saying
Welcome home, Captain
, and he smiled a last smile.
Diana sat on the floor, holding her dead father in her arms, glaring at Alicia.
“What did you do to him?”
“I always break my toys when I play with them,” said Alicia VomAcht Deathstalker.
Diana put her dead father aside, and rose slowly to her feet, gathering her power around her. And then there was the sound of running footsteps from the corridor leading to the court, and everyone turned to look as the man called Carrion burst in, his black cape flapping around him like a gore-crow’s wings. He ignored everyone but the fallen Silence. He walked forward to stand over the dead body for a long moment, breathing heavily.
“I could feel it happening,” he said finally. “But I couldn’t get here in time.”
“You couldn’t have saved him, Sean,” said Diana.
“I always thought we’d die together. Probably with our hands around each other’s throats. Old friend, old enemy.”
“Legends always die alone,” said Diana. “It goes with the territory.”
Carrion turned to look at Alicia. “You. You did this. I am the Ashrai; and we condemn you to death.”
“Get in line,” said Alicia.
She lashed out with all her awful power, a blast of sheer annihilating energy designed to wipe everyone else out of existence, as though they’d never been. Diana Vertue met her attack with a scream of pure defiance, all the power of the oversoul channeled through her mighty, grief-driven mind. Her clothes began to smolder from escaping energies. The two women stood facing each other across the court, impossible forces raging between them. Two great powers, the old and the new, utterly deadlocked. The monster and the mass-mind. Alessandra joined her mind with Diana’s, and Carrion sang with the voice of all the Ashrai. And still Alicia stood.
Psi storms ran loose, crackling on the air of the court, baneful destructive energies tossed around as though they were nothing. Huge jagged cracks split apart the walls of the court, and zigzagged across the high ceiling. Pieces of masonry broke free, and fell ponderously down into the court. Carrion raised a hand, and a shimmering screen protected everyone except Alicia.
The floor shook as though in an earthquake, and the throne rocked back and forth, as though fought over by unseen hands. The air was unbearably hot and then impossibly cold, and rain and hail fell from nowhere. Probabilities changed and altered, snapping on and off in a moment as old familiar faces flickered in and out of sight in the court. Lionstone on her throne, with the first Dram the Widowmaker at her side. Owen Deathstalker, holding a fallen crown in his hand. King Robert and Queen Constance, smiling architects of the Golden Age. So many faces, so many names, come and gone in a moment as time rippled and bent back and forth upon itself. And Douglas Campbell and Finn Durandal, who had once been major players in the struggle for the fate of the Empire, could now only huddle together to one side, ignored.
And then the psi storms snapped off, banished in a moment by the sheer power of those who now strode into the court. The walls stopped shaking and cracking, and the floor grew still, and Alicia and Diana both looked round angrily to see who had interrupted them. And Lewis Deathstalker, Jesamine Flowers, Brett Random, and Rose Constantine strode forward to meet them. Reality stabilized as the four Maze minds enforced their will upon it. Alicia shrieked with fury, and lashed out at everyone present, unleashing all her centuries of Maze-given power.
Diana and Alessandra and the oversoul met it first, and then the four Maze survivors reached out, adding their power. Carrion’s voice rose in a terrible song, and all the power of the Ashrai focused through him, adding their support. Alicia staggered and almost fell, but didn’t.
Lewis stepped forward, and Alicia turned to face him. And that was how it all came to a head, with one Deathstalker facing another. Two minds remade by the Madness Maze, and made powerful beyond belief. Because the Maze had always worked best for Deathstalkers.
Lewis and Alicia went head-to-head, matching power with power, will with will, and in the end Lewis won. Because all Alicia had was self-interest and ambition and hate, while Lewis was centered around duty and honor and the courage he needed to protect those he cared for. And Alicia stood alone, while Lewis stood for many. Alicia hit him with everything she had, trying to possess and control him, and then trick and subvert him, but there was just so much more to him than there was to her. And so she turned and ran.
She was halfway across the court before anyone even realized that the mental battle was over, and she was out the doors and gone before they could react. Alicia ran through the palace’s maze of corridors, and the others came after her, crying out in rage and cheated passion. Alicia wrapped herself in her will, becoming invisible to the world. She sent her thoughts racing ahead of her, sensing that triumphant rebels were already streaming into the palace through the main entrance, led by Gil Akotai. Alicia smiled. She couldn’t take control of her thrall army again without giving away her presence to her enemies, but she could take one mind, and hide in it while the thrall smuggled her away. And then . . . well, Gil Akotai was a hero and a leader; just what she needed to re-establish herself . . .
She ducked into a side passage as she heard footsteps approaching, concentrating all her power into not being there. One by one her pursuers passed her by, and she weighed each one as they passed, looking for someone to carry her unnoticed to Gil Akotai. Most were too well protected, but one mind . . . The Ecstatic named Joy ambled past her hiding place, his mind wide open, and she struck at him like a snake. Such a small man, with his surgically altered brain. If he should seem to be acting a little strangely, who’d notice? She plunged into Joy’s head, and found waiting there the cage he’d made for her.
Hello, Alicia,
said Joy.
I’ve been waiting for you. Enjoy your stay. There’s no way out.
And trapped inside a mind that made no sense at all, all Alicia VomAcht Deathstalker could do was scream and scream and scream.
Joy called to the others to bring them back, and pointed at the empty shell of Alicia’s body lying still and helpless at his feet. They all looked at him.
“She tried to possess me,” said Joy. “But there’s a lot more to me than meets the eye.”
“We always thought so,” said Crow Jane.
“I am large, I contain multitudes,” Joy said happily. “What’s one more voice in my head?”
Diana Vertue studied his thoughts for a moment, winced, and then nodded. “She’ll never find a way out of that. Take him back to New Hope, and the oversoul can watch over Joy until he dies; and make sure she dies with him.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” said Crow Jane.
Carrion gestured sharply at the empty body on the floor, and it burst into consuming flames. It burnt up unnaturally quickly, reduced in moments to nothing more than a pile of ashes. Carrion looked at the others.
“Just in case.”
“Is that it?” said Jesamine. “Is it all finally over?”
“Not quite yet,” said Lewis. “Where is Finn? And where is Douglas?”
 
Finn Durandal was back in the court, sitting on his throne again, when Douglas Campbell walked back in. Once he’d seen Alicia was no longer a threat, he knew he was free to settle old business. He’d seen Finn was missing, and knew where he’d be. He walked slowly across the cracked and broken court, his footsteps loud in the quiet. He stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to the throne, and Finn smiled down on him.
“I knew you’d come alone, Douglas. I told you—this is our moment. No one else belongs here.” He rose up from his throne, and descended the steps unhurriedly to stand before Douglas. “We have unfinished business, you and I. One last duel, one last contest to finally decide which of us is the better.”
They drew their swords, and slowly began to circle each other.
“I have to kill you, Finn,” said Douglas.
“And I have to kill you, Douglas.”
“For all the people you had killed.”
“And for all the people I have yet to kill.”
“Were we ever really friends, Finn?” said Douglas.
Finn considered the question seriously. “I wanted us to be friends. But I don’t think I have it in me, to be anyone’s friend. We’re born alone and we die alone, so really all you can seriously hope to do . . . is see how many people you can take with you. We did have some good times together, didn’t we, Douglas?”
“Yes, we did. Good-bye, Finn.”
“Good-bye, Douglas.”
They surged towards each other, driving sparks from their clashing swords, as they dueled back and forth across the empty court. They were both excellent swordsmen, and experienced fighters. They stamped and lunged, cut and hacked, and never even came close to touching each other. They both knew each other’s style intimately, from their times as partners in the Paragons. Their swords rose and fell, and their breathing grew short and hard. They were both sweating heavily, putting all their strength into every blow. Finn should have had the advantage. Douglas had exhausted himself fighting thralls before he ever got to the court. But in the end, Douglas had spent all his life fighting, while Finn . . . had allowed himself to get soft. Their blades slammed together one last time, and Douglas twisted the sword right out of Finn’s hand. It fell to the floor, and the sound seemed to echo on and on in the empty court. Douglas and Finn stood looking at each other, struggling for breath, looking into each other’s eyes. And then Douglas just ran Finn through, with one swift, professional thrust.
He watched Finn crumple silently to the floor. A part of him had wanted to beat Finn to death with his bare hands. For what he’d done to William, and so many others. But he didn’t. Because he was King, and he was supposed to be better than that. When he was sure Finn was dead, Douglas cut Finn’s head off. Because that was what you did, with monsters. He left the body and head behind him, and ascended the dais steps slowly and tiredly. It had been a long day. He sank onto the throne, and laid his bloody sword across his thighs. He looked down at what remained of the man who had once been the greatest Paragon of all time.
“I was always your friend, Finn, even if you were never really mine. That’s why I didn’t take you alive. I couldn’t leave you to the mercies of the mob.”
And that was how the others found him, when they trailed back into the court. King Douglas, sitting on his throne as though he belonged there, and always had. There was quite a crowd in the court. Lewis and Jesamine, Brett and Rose, Diana and Alessandra, Crow Jane and Joy, and Carrion. And Gil Akotai, who had finally led his troops to the palace, and had gone in alone to find out why the hell all the thralls had suddenly fallen down. He peered uncertainly about him, a little cowed about being in the presence of so many heroes and legends. They all looked at Finn’s beheaded body, and everyone seemed to relax a little.
Douglas smiled tiredly down from his throne, and they all nodded back, in their various ways. And then everyone looked at Lewis and Jesamine, to see what would happen next. Lewis put away his sword, and smiled at Douglas, who smiled back. And then the King got up off his throne and came down the steps to embrace his old friend and partner. They held each other tightly for a long moment, and then stood back to look at each other.
“We’ve come a long way,” said Lewis. “To end up right back where we started.”
“And all of it my fault,” said Douglas. “Oh, Lewis, I’m so sorry . . .”
“No, I’m sorry . . .”
They both laughed quietly.
“I heard about your father,” said Lewis.
“I heard about your Clan,” said Douglas. “I suppose we’re both orphans now.”
“No,” said Lewis. “We’re brothers. In every way that counts.”
“I hear you’ve been doing amazing things,” said Douglas. “I kept up with news of your travels and triumphs, in the Rookery. I was half expecting you to turn into miracle workers, like Owen and his people. Throwing lightning bolts about and healing the sick with your touch.”
“They were legends,” said Lewis. “I always thought it was more important to remain human, with human limitations. So we could all come home again. I don’t think Owen will ever be back.”
“Of course, you met him! The blessed Owen himself! What was he like? Anything like the legends?”
“He was a Deathstalker,” said Lewis. “And the finest of us all.”
Douglas waited, and then realized that was all he was going to get. He considered Lewis thoughtfully. “You have a following now, Lewis. You could take the throne, if you wanted. You could make yourself King.”
“I never wanted to be King,” Lewis said easily. “Hell, I never even wanted to be Champion.”
“That was then, this is now,” Douglas said firmly. “I’m going to need a Champion I can depend on, as I start putting the Empire back together again. Be my Champion, Lewis. Be my right hand, and my conscience.”
“What about Jesamine?” said Lewis, and the quiet in the court seemed to deepen as everyone waited for Douglas’s reply. Jesamine seemed content to wait forever for him to speak. And then Nina Malapert came bustling through the doors into the court, with three news cameras bobbing along behind her. She squeaked loudly at the sight of so many famous faces in one place, waved cheerily to Douglas, and started bossing the cameras about to get the best angles. Douglas regarded her fondly.

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