Skull Gate (37 page)

“Thee has failed!” Gel smugly accused.

Orchos raised a cautioning finger. The gleam returned once more to those dreadful eyes. “I will deal with thee soon, cursed rebel. Thee are to blame for much that has happened. For now, hold your tongue while honorable beings counsel."

Gel pressed into the deep shadows of the wall and said no more.

“Are you giving up?” Frost asked, too weary to pursue a passionate interrogation. She gazed on the gentle, composed features of the child-queen she had fought so hard to save. A lock of hair had strayed over Aki's face; she brushed it back in place.

She had come so far, struggled so hard. Now, none of it was in her hands.

“Daughter, I am bound by pact with thee,” the death god said, “to fight to a conclusion, even though there can be none.” He indicated the stars. They twinkled now in calm serenity, as if nothing had transpired. But they were not the old stars she knew. “Our conflict is not without consequences, however. We ravage the very fabric of destiny with our contest. Gods and mortals alike will suffer for this."

She cut him off. “Are you asking me to release you from your freely given vow?"

The god looked askance. “Daughter, thee has fought bravely with good friends when other mortals would have shriveled in fear. Thee has dared hell, defeated demons, and bargained with gods—"

“The point,” she insisted dryly, “get to the point."

He fixed her with his gaze. For an unsettling moment, she feared she might have pushed him too far. But he let out a long sigh, an oddly human thing for one such as he. “Very well. In the short of it, thee has impressed even the lord of spiders with thy deeds."

That brought her to her feet. “What?"

“He offers a solution.” His gaze shifted to include Onokratos, who sat with Kalynda's head cradled in his lap, her fine hair spilling over his knees into the dust. Orchos pointed to the child. “The soul of that one belongs to Gath; he will not surrender what is rightfully his. She died of the spider's venom, and he will not be deprived."

He pointed to Aki. “That one, however, did not die. Her soul was unnaturally stripped from her body. Gath has no legitimate claim to it."

Now the god looked at each of them, one by one, long and lingering looks that chilled her to the marrow. “The chaos lord offers generous terms. He will give up her soul if another soul willingly takes her place."

The silence thundered in her ears. Then, she looked down on Kimon's sweet face. There was no warmth left in him. He was lost to her forever. She could think that, now, without a little knife turning in her heart. How easy it was to accept death when she had lived with it so long.

And Aki. She bent and touched the smooth ivory of her cheeks. That day seemed so distant when the little queen had named her champion and made her royal guardian. Over the days and nights they had shared, the formality between them had faded, replaced by casual hours of storytelling and secret sharing.

She had been
changed
by the child. Transformed by a special kind of magic. Aki had taught her to love and let herself be loved. Why hadn't she realized that before?

She owed Aki for that. She owed her the chance to grow up and find her own Kimon.

“I'll go,” she said, meeting the death god's gaze. She had not been able to do that until now.

“No, you won't.” Tras Sur'tian's eyes batted open. She had thought him asleep. “I'm old. These bones will never heal properly enough to let me bear steel again. I'll be no good to Aki or anyone else as a cripple. Let me go."

Onokratos looked slowly up. When he spoke, Frost saw the sheen of tears on his lashes. “Neither of you may go,” he said. “I'm to blame for this sorry affair.” He smoothed Kalynda's hair, lifted her head, and let it softly down to the ground. He folded her hands in the traditional manner. “She was the only child of an old man's body. When she was born, I thought it a miracle. Her mother died shortly after she was born, and I raised her alone.” He turned to Frost, pleading for understanding. “She was the only thing in this world I had to love!” he cried. “I have to be the one to go. She'll be so alone without me.” He hung his head; his tears fell on Kalynda's bosom. His next words were a barely audible whisper. “And I would be so alone without her."

Frost knelt beside him, took his head in her hands, touched her forehead to his in sympathy. “It won't be any of the known nine hells,” she said. “You don't know what it will be like."

His eyes, suddenly lucid, penetrated to her very heart. “Whatever horrible thing awaits, could I let my daughter face it alone?” He clasped her wrists and pressed her palms together. “Could you let Aki face it alone?"

She hung her head.

“It is right and fitting thee should come,” Orchos approved. “Thee fought surprisingly well and nearly to self-destruction. I admit I never thought thee skilled enough in the sorcerous arts to shape the power of this sacred place."

Frost answered with unexpected pride, mocking the death god's speech. “Thee knows well enough: magic is never just a matter of skill, but of courage and desire."

Orchos took no offense. “Well said, daughter. Onokratos desired to save his Kalynda-child. And he had courage to act on what he thought must be done to achieve that. Such qualities are human-rare."

“You speak in eulogies already!” Tras Sur'tian shouted angrily. “You so-called gods! You disgust me!"

The merest trace of amusement lifted the corners of Orchos's mouth. “To be honest, thee humans are often equally mysterious to the gods. We made thee, but we do not understand thee. Thee are not like us. This
love
for instance. Where did thee get it? It comes not from us. Yet it pervades you creatures, dictating much of what you do, determining much of who you are.” He spread his arms, a gesture meant to include them all. “Everything you have done here, you have done for love.” He indicated Onokratos. “He began this for love of his daughter.” He pointed to Frost. “She hunted the wizard for love of the Aki-child; and she came to love a man who meant to kill her for money.” He pointed to Kimon, then to Tras Sur'tian. “She allied herself to one she loves as a father, one who loves the Aki-child as much as she does.” Lastly, he returned to Onokratos. “And now, she even begins to feel love for the man who began it all."

The god rolled his eyes. “All of you are bound to each other by expressions of love.” He looked back at Tras Sur'tian. “You find us disgusting?” He shook his head. “We find you unfathomable."

“You've slipped into human speech patterns,” Frost pointed out.

Orchos shrugged again. “Such as thee may corrupt even the gods."

He turned to Gel in the shadows. “Come out, rebel. There is no love here for thee.” There was no movement by the wall, and Orchos called out again, darkly. “Face me, miserable creature. Show at least as much courage as these humans who stand in my presence!"

Gel drew himself stiffly erect and strode up to his former lord. A damp sweat-shine gleamed on his dark skin, though his outward manner betrayed nothing but arrogance. “Thee cannot order me about, worm-eater. I am no longer yours, nor shall I serve that human miscreant. My powers are gone and all pacts made meaningless."

The death god spat in the once-demon's face. “Thee are less than the vilest beast. Had thee any honor, thee would recall that thy pact with the Onokratos-human was binding until his daughter's soul was returned to her body.

“But thee has no honor! Thee are a rebel, rebellious to the human and to me. Thee wished to be free of the nine hells.” Orchos's eyes burned with a strange glow. Suddenly, slender bolts of white fire leaped from his black pupils to lick at Gel's face. The once-demon screamed and stumbled back, clutching his cheeks. “Then, by my name, thee shall be free. But by those cruel brands shall all know thee and shun thy treachery."

Gel shot back a look of purest hatred and anger. He lowered his hands as if to deny the pain, but they clenched into fists at his sides. On his right cheek, Frost saw the charred, smoking glyph, the sign that meant rebel, that Orchos had seared into his flesh. She knew there was a similar brand on his other cheek.

“Free, then,” Gel bellowed triumphantly. “I'm free!” He turned his back on Orchos to show his contempt. A hideous grin split his face. “These little marks,” he said, “such a small price for freedom! Now, your kingdoms will be mine.” He clapped his hands together for joy. “Rebel is not a bad name. I shall gather men, the corrupt, the greedy, men you would call evil, and many others. They will flock to me, all seeking the one thing I still possess.” He turned back to his former master. “Tell them, you great butcher! Tell them!"

Frost waited for the death god's answer. Gel was too self-assured in his boasts. What was it she still did not know? She ran a hand over her belly, feeling for the life within. Did he mean that?

Orchos met her gaze evenly. “He cannot die by normal means,” he told her. “Though he is powerless, he is still born of magic. Only magic can harm him."

“And I have more to look forward to in this brave new life!” Gel raved. “See how she rubs her belly? Soon I shall have a son bestowed of all my powers, demon-spawned on mortal flesh.” His eyes burned with an insane light. At least, it would have been insane in a human. “Through him, my power will live!"

Tras Sur'tian struggled up on one leg. Onokratos moved to her side, caught her elbow. “Is it true?” the wizard insisted.

“How?” shouted the Korkyran. “When? Was it in the woods? That night you both disappeared?"

She separated herself from her friends and closed the distance between herself and the once-demon. He towered over her, grinning. “And it was not so bad, either, was it, woman?” he said.

She smiled a broad, false smile. Her bare foot lashed out, smashing his groin. He doubled in excruciating pain and his chin met her knee. She pounded the back of his skull, sent him crashing nose to the ground. She kicked him twice in the ribs with a cold, relentless fury. Then, spying a chunk of rubble near at hand, she paused long enough to fetch and hurl it with all her strength down upon his upturning face.

Gel lay unmoving for only a moment. Then his eyes peeled slowly open above a crushed nose and ruined mouth. A large bruise quickly purpled his forehead. Yet only a few drops of blood trickled from any of the wounds. Swaying uncertainly, he got up.

“Thee can hurt me,” he said thickly, and his grin returned, an evil mockery of a smile through torn and swollen lips and shattered teeth. “But I will never die. Go where thee will, woman, and remember to look over thy shoulder. I will be behind thee until the day I take my child from thy helpless arms. On that day, look no more for anything."

Frost was numb to fear and to threats, numb to everything but her anger. Bending, she scooped up another fist-sized piece of mortar. “I'll never have it!” she swore defiantly. “I'll never let your abomination be born! Not to my body! Follow me, if you dare. I'll find a sword, cut off your legs so you can't follow far, cut off your arms so you can't even drag your pathetic husk along in my trail. So you can't die? Live, then. Live, and suffer as mortals suffer. I can make you suffer!” As she had seen the death god do, she spat full in his face. “How new you are to this world. How naïve!"

Orchos broke in before her fury was fully vented. “There will be no child, rebel. I deny you that, or any progeny.” Again, white fire erupted from his eyes. Frost recoiled, an uncomprehending scream rising in her throat, a scream that died unvoiced. There was no pain where the flames touched her, only a sensation of emptiness. She touched her belly and rejoiced.

Gel's seed grew no more, nor would it ever grow.

“Curse thee!” Gel howled, shaking his fist at the lord of the nine hells. “Thee has killed my child, my son! But not all my hopes. I am yet free from hell!"

A strange smile parted the god's lips, an expression that suddenly made Frost shudder for the cruelty behind it. “Are thee?” he taunted. “Or have thee entered another, more subtle hell?"

Gel squinted, stricken by those words; fear and doubt twisted his broken features. “Play no games with me!” he shouted. But Orchos only smiled. Gel peered long into that godly face, then let go a horrified wail, turned, and fled, shoving Tras Sur'tian aside as he disappeared through Skull Gate and into darkness.

“Good riddance!” Tras Sur'tian barked, hauling himself up on his good leg as he tried not to bump his arm.

Frost stared through Yahwei's mouth into the impenetrable gloom. Over her shoulder, she said to Orchos, “Where will he go in this world?"

Came a sibilant whisper in her mind:
Not far, daughter. The scales always seem to balance.

A cry sounded in the distant stillness; a hoarse shout was cut brutally short.

Moments later, a measured, casual clip-clop echoed on the smoothly worn path just beyond the gate. All turned to watch the flickering pair of flames that descended the road, passed beneath Yahwei's rotten teeth.

“Such eyes,” Orchos said. “In all this vast cosmos I have never seen their like."

The unicorn emerged from the night, went straight to Frost, and nuzzled her shoulder. The ebony spike that jutted from his brow glistened with a slick wetness.

She stroked his mane from crest to withers. “I didn't see him leave,” she said.

Onokratos also stroked the unicorn. “Born of magic,” he mumbled. “Slain by magic."

Orchos glanced upward at the stars. “Balance is almost restored,” he said. “Gel is justly rewarded, as I knew he would be.” His gaze fell heavily on Onokratos. “Now, it is time for thee to show that a mortal's honor has greater value."

Onokratos moved off from the others. He looked steadfastly on the lord of the nine hells. “I am ready to join my daughter,” he said. “For Kalynda's sake and for Aki's, do what must be done."

Orchos gestured. “Look thee on the sky."