The Gate of Fire (88 page)

Khiron wrenched the man's head from his neck and blood sprayed out, blinding the first man that rushed at it. Heedless of the arrows that filled the air, the
homunculus
leapt past the spear and punched two stiffened fingers tipped with hardened bone into the blinded soldiers' eye sockets. There was a wet spattering sound and red gore slimed its fingers. The man fell without a sound. Another spear jabbed in from the side, but Khiron weaved away from it.

Thyatis, running up to the edge of the fray, ground her teeth. Fighting the thing one on one would do nothing! She opened her mouth to shout a command, but there was a swinging motion at the edge of her vision and she ducked instinctively.

Nikos overhanded a branch, torn from one of the burning trees, into the creature's back as it was wrenching a long spear from a legionnaire's hands. The oak leaves, wreathed in their own sputtering flame, struck the back of the
homunculus
and the
phlogiston
that had clung like black oil to the rippling muscle and flesh and sinew flashed alight. Khiron leapt straight up, howling in despair, and then burst into flame like a flower opening to the sun with impossible speed. The legionnaires scattered.

Khiron slammed back down to earth, a frenzy of thrashing limbs, rolling frantically and clawing at the earth. The
phlogiston
crackled and hissed, burning furiously. It wailed in a high-pitched voice like a baby frying in its own fat. The ancient flesh, held together only by will and sorcery, burned with an amazingly hot blue flame. The creature staggered up, wreathed in a corona of almost invisible fire. Nikos fell back, holding his hand up to shield his face from the intense heat. The thing took a step, but its flesh and muscle were already dissolving into a burning jelly.

Thyatis fell back, too, turning her head away from the gruesome sight. She had unfinished business. She sprinted back toward the Prince.

Maxian's heart stuttered and stopped and then, as the last flicker of thought curdled down into a black abyss, something bright and burning like the sun rose up. Hate flared in the man's heart, and something enormous was shrieking at him, demanding release. The fragile last tendril of will stabbed out into the cold darkness and found power waiting for it: colossal untapped power that had been restrained for centuries, building and building in strength, deep under the earth.

Gods,
raged Maxian,
my brother kills me? My family treats me as a mad dog?

The crumbling lattice of his thought and will flared to life, stitching itself into a feeble semblance of its full shape. His body was destroyed, ruined, slashed and cut, pierced. Flames lapped at his feet, burning through his boots. But in the earth below him, a brilliant green flood of power surged up, slipping through cracks and crevices in the binding that had lain upon it for so long. The Prince, lying near death at the summit of the mountain, reached out, spending the last of his own rage to touch the heart of the volcano.

Thyatis staggered, nearly losing her footing. The ground rumbled from a massive shock. The green turf had lifted up, sending her toppling and then slammed down again. All around her, the air was filled with a great creaking sound and then the rattle of falling rock and the grinding of boulders sliding into new positions. A despairing scream echoed across the grotto. One of the archers had been thrown from his perch and a seventy-ton boulder had shifted, grinding him into paste against one of its brethren. The woman gingerly got to her feet, keeping her hands low to the ground.

She looked up and saw the Prince and a snarl cut her features.

Life flooded him, rushing through his limbs like a mountain freshet in full spate. Broken bone, torn muscle and sinew, shattered organs rippled with virulent power. His torso convulsed and the arrows spit from his flesh. Ragged edges of the entry wounds turned pink, drinking up clotted blood, and then crawled back together. Internal organs knit themselves anew. Awareness poured into his darkened mind, banishing phantoms of pain. He stood, whole, feeling light and almost giddy with the escape from death. He saw the woman with the knife, running full tilt at him, the blade shining in her fist. The Prince smiled, taking joy from the movement and play of his muscles, now restored to full vigor. He raised a hand and blue fire spun out in a tight ring before him.

Thyatis was smashed to the ground again, crying out as her broken ribs ground against one another. Her armor had stopped the brunt of the flare but now it popped and sizzled with tremendous heat. She rolled over, groaning, seeing the knife sticking from the ground a dozen feet away. The breastplate of her cuirass was glowing like an ember and she could feel her flesh crisping in the heat. Frantically, she tugged at the straps that held it closed, feeling the burning sensation spread across her chest.

At the edge of her vision, the Prince walked forward, his steps light on the ground, almost floating. He raised his hand again and ultraviolet lightning snapped and cracked from his palm. Out of her field of view, a man shrieked briefly and there was the roll of thunder. The Prince was glowing slightly, surrounded by a corona of shuddering indigo fire. Men, heedless of imminent death, rushed forward. Arrows filled the air around the Prince.

Thyatis managed to get the straps on her left side undone and prised the breastplate away with trembling fingers. Underneath it, her felt jacket was smoking and tiny flames were licking along the cloth. Gasping at the pain, she tore it off and threw it aside. Beneath that her linen tunic was soaked with sweat and steaming. Luckily, the perspiration trapped in the layers of her clothing had kept the fire from her skin.

Nikos dodged in low, a
spatha
bare in his hand. The glowing man had swiveled as he advanced and the flare of that black coruscating lightning flooded the air. One of the archers, still hanging onto his perch on a tipped boulder, exploded in a red spray as the bolt licked across him. Behind the dead man, trees bloomed into flame and joined their brothers in the conflagration raging around the circumference of the grotto.

The Illyrian leapt into the Prince, hacking sideways with all the strength in his broad shoulders and powerful back. The keen edge of the
spatha
bit through the corona of fire and then, with a greasy sliding sensation, into the neck of the Prince. Then it stopped, jarring against the man's spine. Nikos dropped down, wrenching the blade away. The Prince turned, his eyes burning with carnelian flame. The Illyrian gaped, seeing the mortal wound gel and the skin rush closed like water over a stone striking the surface of a lake. The Prince smiled and there was nothing human in his face. Arrows slapped through the air, striking the indigo corona and shattering as if they had struck a wall of tempered steel.

Maxian let the tiniest fragment of the roaring, shrieking power that flooded into him from the heart of the mountain fly forth from his fingertips. The essence ignited in the air, unfolding into a ravening burst of flame that caught the swordsman half-turned to dodge aside. The molten air enveloped the man for a brief instant, then seemed to sink into his flesh and armor. Fractions of a second later, the body incandesced into a blue-white pyre and then ash exploded in all directions, filling the air with a haze of dust.

"No!" Thyatis halted in her headlong rush, seeing Nikos die. Efraim and Kahrmi rushed in on the other side of the Prince, their faces masks of death, their legs pumping as they sprinted across the grass. Thyatis was unable to move, seeing her beloved friend shatter in the wind and drift downward in a rain of gray particles. Her limbs seemed made of lead, impossible to move.

Maxian grinned, feeling the joy of the mountain flood his thought. Two more of the soldiers were attacking, pitiful weapons of iron and wood raised against him. He clenched his right fist, sending thought and will into the earth. The ground underneath the two men erupted in rushing orange-red flame and they shrieked in torment as they fell, burning fiercely at his feet.

The Prince bent, feeling the life of the first man rush through his fingers as the flames consumed him. There was a tingling feeling as the breath of life fluttered past and the Prince stood, staring at his hand. Tongues of fire danced on his fingertips, mirroring the strength that was now his. They made beautiful patterns.

Blinking back tears, Thyatis cast about on the grass for a weapon. A wall of flame roared around the fringe of the grotto now, closing off all avenues of escape. It was as bright as day, though the air was thin and very hot. She gasped for breath. Movement was difficult, for the trembling in the ground had increased, shaking the turf like a bowl of gelatin. Her fingers touched the hilt of a fallen sword and curled around it. With an effort, for the mountain suddenly heaved like a wet dog shaking water from its back, she got up on her knees.

At least Anagathios will live
, she thought with black humor.
And the Duchess will get her wagons back
...

She could see the Prince; he was smiling beatifically and staring at his hands, which shimmered with patterns of color. Above him, the sky was a boiling murk, filled with surging black clouds and lit by the fires roaring below. Entranced, he turned away, spinning slowly in the air. Thyatis stood warily, waiting for the next shock to shift the earth. The sword felt right in her hand as she crouched and scuttled forward.

Footsteps whispered on the grass behind her.

"No," came a tight voice and Thyatis turned in surprise, feeling a hand on her shoulder.

Krista was there, clad in dark clothing, her face grim as any fury. Her forearms were bare and a knife was in her hand. It shone with a black light of its own. "He is mine. You must flee."

Thyatis gaped as the younger woman bolted past her, murder shining in every smooth motion.

Maxian's thought whipped back and forth; the power in the mountain sang to him of ultimate release, of an orgiastic flood of power that would burst forth from the earth in a single stunning blow. His own mind was wrapped in a shell of rage and the burning vision of his brother hung before him in the air.

You brought this upon me
, he howled in his mind, tears sparkling at the edges of his eyes.
You, the Emperor who would place the State before your own brother! You would kill me?

With an effort, he restrained the surging billow of power in the mountain, feeling it press against his will. It had been held back for so long, balanced delicately by the lattices of the Oath, that it hungered and yearned only to be free, to rush out across the land. Maxian stood at the plug, a new balance point, allowing some tiny fragment of it to come forth to be wielded at his hand. Beyond the mountain, the Prince could feel the Oath shudder in retreat, driven back by waves of raw strength.

With this thing at my command
, he exulted,
I could smash those forms and specters into nothing!

He raised a hand, voice rising in words of power and command.

"Maxian!" A cry came, shouting above the roar of the flames. A familiar voice. He turned.

Krista was there, sprinting toward him, her dear face silhouetted by fire and smoke. She was smiling and there was undying love in her eyes. Maxian's heart leapt and his hands dropped, turning to embrace her outstretched arms. Giddy joy shouted in him.
One, at least, of all the world still loves me!

Krista felt the heat flare from the Prince's body, but ignored it, throwing herself into his arms. He burned and the indigo corona was hotter than a forge, igniting her clothing. She screamed, her eyes blinded by the leaping fire, but she could still feel his thick hair under her hands. Krista flexed her left forearm and felt the cool bronze ring on her thumb take the tension of the spring.

Maxian cried out in dismay, seeing the flames lapping around Krista. The girl was gritting her teeth in pain. He put forth his power to enclose her in a shield of protection. There was a snapping sound close by his ear and then a shocking pain greater than he had ever experienced burst in the side of his skull. He fell back, letting the wash of flame flare up around Krista, catching in her hair. Trembling fingers touched the side of his head. Cold iron met his fingertips, jutting from his ear. Blackness rushed up around him, cutting off all sight and sound and sensation.

Thyatis crawled across the dying grass, her head low. Smoke billowed only a dozen feet above her and the heat beat at her like a fist. There was very little air left to breathe. The mountain, at least, had suddenly gone still and quiet. One arc of the grotto remained free of flames, flanked on either side by towering boulders. Something crouched there in the darkness, but it was free of the burning woods. When the turf steadied, she risked rising up and scurried across the ground toward the rocks.

There was something between the smoking trees, a great shape of iron curled up like a snake in its winter den. Thyatis skidded to a halt, staring in awe at the enormous round golden eyes that suddenly opened before her. The lids slid back, rasping metal on metal, and orbs of gold stared out. The thing was enormous and now it moved, iron scales sliding with a brittle rasp over iron scales. Thyatis fell down, stunned at this sight upon sights. Black wings unfolded, massive and articulated like those of a bat. Forearms as thick as temple columns moved and flexed, supporting its weight. The Engine rose from its slumber and moved forward into the open space of the grotto.

Thyatis scrambled aside, barely avoiding being crushed by a giant taloned paw. The thing was a hundred
pedes
long if it was an
uncia
, with a reticulated snaky tail and massive rear legs like those of a lion. As it moved, there was the ratcheting of gears and wheels and a door opened in its belly. Wings drifted by overhead, touching the walls of the grotto. Trees, nearly consumed by the wild-fire, cracked and shattered at the touch. The hot air rushing up caught under the pinions and the whole Engine shuddered, lifting a little. The Roman woman ran underneath it, seeing a hatch lever down.