Kormak 01 - Stealer of Flesh (22 page)

“No one whoever visited this place recorded anything like this,” said Olivia.

“It’s Razhak’s doing,” said Kormak, recalling more of the Ghul’s knowledge. “He has activated the great spell engines. We must seek him in the Chambers of Rebirth.”

A scream rang out. Kormak turned and saw that one of the men had wandered too close to the glittering shadows. It surged forward like a wave and enshrouded him. He was transformed into a statue sculpted from shadow. His flesh became dark and insubstantial, his eyes pockets of deeper darkness. He leapt towards another man and reached out and the shadow spread from where it touched and began to transform the second victim. His screams were hideous.

Kormak stepped forward between the shadowman and his next victim. He lashed out with the flat of his blade. Where it touched the shadow receded but the man it had enveloped dropped to the ground. Kormak twisted to strike the second with the same result. The shadows that had surrounded the men skittered away, vanishing as if afraid of the touch of the dwarf-forged blade.

Kormak touched the victims. Their skin was grey. Their flesh was cold. Their eyes were open but there was no life in them or any sign of intelligence. Even as he watched they lost all animation. It was plain that death had taken them. Kormak looked over at Prince Luther. The Prince made the Elder Sign of the Sun with his hand. It was plain they were both thinking the same thing. The soldiers were paying a high price for their purse of gold.

They moved towards the centre of the chamber under the glittering dome and Kormak saw that there was a great well there, exactly where he had expected to find it; a ramp spiralled downward around the edge of the well, disappearing deep below the earth. It looked as if a god had tried to bore a hole right through to the centre of the world. Kormak remembered Luther’s story of demons imprisoned beneath the surface of the land and wondered if the Ghul had been trying to release them. Razhak’s memories hinted otherwise but infuriatingly told him nothing more.

All around the glowing shadows danced, the infernal voices sounded, lights shifted around the crystal pillars. For all the tremendous activity of the place, Kormak was filled with a sense of wrongness, of the idea that this was not how things were supposed to be here.

“I suppose we are going to have to go down,” said Luther. He did not sound enthusiastic although his eyes were wide with wonder and fright from contemplating their surroundings.

“You suppose correctly,” said Kormak. He strode down the ramp. The two siblings followed him. The soldiers marched fatalistically in their wake.

They made their way downwards, every step illuminated by the light pouring through the great crystal dome. They passed entrances that led to other tunnels which ran off as far as the eye could see. A city as great as the one on the surface was buried here, Kormak realised.

He wondered if it was as ruined as the one above. He did not have time to break off and explore and find out. His borrowed memories told him that he needed to keep going. He knew what Razhak sought and where it had to be. The activity all around told him that the Ghul was close to getting what he had come for. Other recollections told him that there were strange and deadly weapons buried here and other defences Razhak might call on if threatened.

Benjamin and the remaining soldiers moved along cautiously. Some of the warriors had bows in their hands, others had swords. The ones with the blades stood ready to protect the ones with the ranged weapons in case of surprise attack. Prince Luther had his sword out. Olivia’s hand toyed with something inside the pouch she carried. She clearly had other surprises for any attackers.

The lights flickered. The air vibrated. The ground shook, not as if it had been hit by an earthquake but rather as if it were a monstrous gong being struck by an invisible but inexorable hammer. Kormak got the sense that the whole ancient city was coming awake.

He knew that Razhak had something to do with that.

After long hours of walking they reached the bottom of the well, passed through an arch and entered another great open space. This one was lined with more crystalline towers between which chain lightning flickered.

Around the edges of the space were glass jars full of milky fluid. As he got closer Kormak saw that there were things floating within the fluid, the shrivelled corpses of the ancient race to which he knew Razhak belonged. The jars had been cracked and discolouration around the floor of many of them told Kormak that strange chemicals had leaked onto the ground.

In the centre of the chamber a huge platform stood supported on a crystal pillar. At the edge of it was a massive pulsing crystal; beside it stood Razhak, still wearing the body of Scar. The flesh was starting to peel from the huge orcish frame in places. The sight of him made the soldiers flinch.

In his hand, he held something that looked like a spear tipped with a glowing crystal that resembled that from which the glowing pillars were made. The air around Razhak shimmered with light.

“Guardian!” The voice came from all around, seemingly part of the vibrations in the air. Kormak felt it rumbling within his chest as well as heard it with his ears. “You have arrived at last. And you have brought me some more vessels. I am grateful. I had thought I was going to die here, but there is yet a chance for me to live.”

“Today is the day your life ends,” Kormak said. He was not sure whether his shout could be heard above the noise of the spell-engines but Razhak seemed to have no trouble understanding him.

“I had thought so too, Guardian. Our ancient enemies did their work well. They have broken the god-machines. They have smashed the spell-engines. They no longer function. I had thought to remake myself, to reweave the thread of my existence but it cannot be done. Your insect forebears destroyed things they cannot even begin to comprehend out of malice and envy. Of course, you understand that all too well, don’t you?”

Kormak took in what the Ghul was saying. Razhak had no way of strengthening his spirit-fires. He was as mortal in his own way as Kormak now. He might be able to leap bodies and steal part of their energy but he could not find enough energy to stave off extinction indefinitely. In fact, if they left now, he would simply starve as he burned through the remaining life-energy in Scar’s body.

Or perhaps that was what he wanted them to believe. Perhaps it was not so. Perhaps he had different reasons for saying this. Kormak could not take the chance of letting him escape. Razhak laughed. There was a tinge of madness to it as well as the alien mirth of one who had never been a man.

“I am going to kill you, Guardian,” he said. “You have hounded me too long. I am ending this now. I will slay you if it’s the last thing I do. You have, you will be pleased to know, reduced me to your own level.”

He raised the spear. Chained lightning danced around its tip. Kormak pushed Olivia and Luther into the shadow of a pillar as a bolt of pure electrical energy leapt at the spot where they had been. Sparks erupted where the surge of power struck. One of the soldiers stood there watching as the lightning came closer. It touched him. He screamed, eyes opening wide, skin turning briefly white and sloughing away. In a moment, only a blackened corpse in partially melted armour stood there.

Other soldiers sent arrows streaking towards Razhak. As they got close to him, lightning streaked from the spear and they burst into flame at the tip. The stink of ozone assaulted Kormak’s nostrils, its hot metallic tang making him want to gag. Two more thunderclaps sounded, two more flickers of lightning lashed out, two more soldiers died. The rest scurried for cover. Razhak’s laughter rang out.

“Hiding, Guardian? Where is your confidence now? It’s not so easy when your prey fights back, is it?”

Kormak squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He was still dazzled from the flash and he could see the after-image even through his closed lids.

From cover, the soldiers started to shoot arrows again. Kormak risked a look and saw the same thing happen as before. He felt Olivia pressed against his side.

“We can’t kill him with bows,” Kormak said. “We need to get closer.”

“It’s not possible,” Olivia said. “That lance will kill you before you get up the ramp. Those amulets won’t protect you either any more than they would protect you from a lightning strike.”

Kormak knew she was right. “There’s not a lot we can do,” he said. “Perhaps wait until the weapon’s power is discharged.”

“That might take a while,” she said. “It seems to be drawing it from the spell-engines. We could all be dead by then.”

“So you don’t want to stand and fight, Guardian!” Razhak bellowed. “How unlike you. Must I come looking?”

“Can you use a bow?” Olivia asked.

“Indifferently,” Kormak said. She dived from cover, picked up the bow that had been dropped by one of the dead guards and rolled into the shelter of a nearby pillar as another bolt came crashing down where she had been. Somehow she had managed to grab an arrow too. As Kormak watched she broke of the metal head, leaving only splintered wood. She stepped out, aimed and fired.

Kormak looked and saw that the arrow now protruded from Razhak’s breast. The Ghul shrieked in pain. Olivia stepped to where Kormak stood. “It’s the metal arrowheads. The lightning is drawn to them as it is drawn to a lightning rod. Without them to draw the bolts, the arrow can get through.”

She shouted to the soldiers. “Break off your arrowheads, use only the wood of the shafts and you can kill him.”

A few soldiers took aim and let fly from around. Some of them panicked and did not remove the arrowheads, a few arrows clattered into the mechanism around Razhak, one bounced off his chestplate, another bit home into his flesh. The Ghul stepped away from the edge of the platform, clearly rattled. The soldiers kept up a rain of arrows on where he had been, clearly heartened by their success.

“Well reasoned,” Kormak said to Olivia. He leaned forward, kissed her, drew his sword and raced for the ramp. He was surprised to find Prince Luther running beside him.

“Go back,” Kormak said.

“I will see the end of this,” Luther said. There was no time for Kormak to argue with him or force him back so he kept running, heart racing, fearful that the Ghul would reappear with his deadly weapon at the ready and cut them down.

They stormed up the ramp and found themselves in the shadow of the gigantic, glowing spell-engines. Razhak was nowhere to be seen. Between the ancient machines a corridor ran back into the gloom. Kormak took up a position on one side of it. He did not want to run directly down it. He would be too easy a target in the confined space.

Arrows clattered down around them. One of them, lacking an arrowhead passed through Kormak’s cloak.

“Stop shooting,” Prince Luther shouted. “You’ll hit us!”

The rain of arrows slackened and ceased.

“Thank you,” Luther shouted, with some irony. He looked over at Kormak. “What now?”

“Walking down this corridor is death,” Kormak said. He looked at the great engine. There were handholds in the side. “We go over.”

He started to climb until he reached the top of the engines. The air was warm and dry and the ozone stink greater. Chain lightning danced overhead and each flicker made him flinch in case it diverted itself downwards and through his body. He looked around. The top of the engines were complex patterns of machinery and crystal. He had vague memories of this being the place where the Ghul had been created, had become bodiless, reached out to become more than mortal and less than they had been.

He raced along the top, heading towards the centre of the plinth. Ahead lay a gap between two great mechanisms. He sprang across it, had a view of the surface far enough below so that a fall would break his back. He ran on, ignoring the fear in his gut, came to another gap, sprang across again and raced to the edge of the giant spell-machine, looking down.

Razhak stood below, in the shadow of a vast spherical crystal within which chained lightning roiled. He was slumped in a metal throne, the spear across his knees, trying to bind his wounds with strips torn from his shirt. It struck Kormak as oddly sad that a life measured in ages and marked with flights of cosmic evil should be reduced to this. If he had brought a bow, he could have finished him from here.

Heavy breathing beside him told him that Prince Luther had caught up. “An exciting little steeplechase,” he said. He glared down at Razhak. “He is still armed.”

Kormak nodded. “We go down the far side of this machine where he cannot see us.”

They moved to the far edge and descended with Kormak in the lead. He was very aware of the Prince clambering down above him. If Luther fell, he would sweep Kormak to the floor as well.

Kormak moved up to the corner of the spell engine and glanced around. Razhak still sat there. He had finished binding his wounds and now glared around him like a beast at bay. He looked unutterably weary. Kormak quashed the brief strange flash of sympathy he felt. Razhak had cut down those soldiers without thought. He deserved nothing better himself.

Kormak edged from the shadows, blade held ready. If only he could reach Razhak before he turned, he could strike of the Ghul’s head without interference. He padded forward and then heard the sound of a sword being drawn behind him. Razhak’s head turned, he raised the lightning-spear.

Kormak desperately threw himself to one side as Razhak raised the weapon. Lightning flashed. There was a sound of screaming from behind Kormak. Prince Luther would be writing no more poems. The twisted remnants of his sword, dripped from his hand. Charred flesh had peeled away to reveal white bone beneath.

Kormak moved around the outside of the mechanism holding the great crystal sphere. He was edgy as a cat. Razhak was expecting him now and any moment he might come face to face with the Ghul and his terrible weapon. He keyed himself up to strike instantly. He knew he would only have a heartbeat in which to act.

“It’s just you and me now, Guardian,” said Razhak. His voice sounded loud and surprisingly close over the hum of the spell-engines. “Soon it will only be me. A pity about the boy. A good body. I could have made use of it, as I have made use of the others you brought me.”