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Authors: Douglas Kaufman

Tags: #Role Playing & Fantasy, #Games

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BOOK: torg 02 - The Dark Realm
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teen moved closer.

"You want to leave us behind? After all the things we've been through together? Man, why didn't I see this coming?" Coyote's voice was full of anger and pain, full of rejection.

"Coyote, you and Rat are my friends. You saved my life. I am not deserting you. But we are going into the very heart of the evil that has come upon our world. I don't know what we'll face there, and I can't spend my time worrying about you."

"No, don't bother, Father," Coyote spat, "you don't have to worry about us any more."

"Coyote... ?" Rat began, but the older boy cut him off.

"Be quiet, Rat," Coyote ordered, "it's just us now. Like it used to be. Like it always was."

Coyote left the room. Rat hesitated a moment, then followed after his friend.

"He is angry, Christopher, head strong," Tal Tu said. "But he will come to understand your decision."

"Watch over them, Tal Tu," Bryce said. "And watch over Decker, too. They need you."

"I will do my best. But make sure you accomplish what you set out to do, and then come back to us, because we need you as well."

And then Tal Tu went to find the boys, leaving Bryce alone to contemplate the coming days.

 

15

 

"The colonel has certainly provided us with sound transport — even if it is a bit outdated," Mara exclaimed as the group approached the aircraft. Bryce still marveled at her childlike sense of wonder, and was constantly taken aback when she started spouting mathematical calculations and scientific theory.

 

"The colonel was very cooperative because of our affiliation with Decker," Bryce said. "Having presidential clearance sure has worked in our favor so far."

"Your president's power means nothing where we are going," Kurst declared.

Tolwyn studied the airplane with nervous trepidation. "This is another of the magical flying wagons?"

"It's a plane," Bryce said.

The warrior woman shook slightly, then steeled herself. "I will endure," she said, checking the dress saber that hung at her side. It was the blade Decker had given her, the blade that had belonged to his companion Teagle. The blade that had killed the Carredon.

From the far end of the hangar, Colonel McCall approached the four companions. He greeted them with a nod. "Are you sure I can't assign some men to you, Father Bryce?" he asked.

The priest shook his head. "You heard what happened to the men that started out with Congressman Decker. None of us want more deaths on our consciences. I really won't feel comfortable until we've been dropped off and your pilots are safely on their way back here. Besides, with the edeinos army marching toward you from the north, you'll need every able body you can find."

The Colonel agreed. "These are damn strange times, Father. There hasn't been any change in Decker, and I wish the doctors could figure out how to remove those daggers."

"Do not attempt to remove them, Colonel," Kurst explained. "To do so would immediately kill Decker, as well as the person performing the operation."

"You really feel that Congressman Decker's mission is best served by going to Australia?"

"Yes, Colonel," Bryce said, uncomfortable with his slight stretching of the truth. "The last information we came across pointed us to occurrences in the South Pacific."

"President Wells asked me to comply with Decker's associates, and that's what I've done. Good luck, Father, Kurst, ladies." Colonel McCall shook hands with the four, then stepped back to watch the plane exit.

Tolwyn removed the heart-shaped stone from her pack and handed it to Bryce. "You will carry this, Christopher." Then she entered the aircraft, followed by Mara and Kurst.

Bryce slipped the blue and red stone into his pocket and started up the steps. A familiar voice halted his progress, however, and he turned to see Tal Tu and the boys entering the hangar.

"Be careful, Father Bryce," Rat called.

"Take care of yourself, man," Coyote added. "And keep the women safe."

Bryce smiled, touched that the three had come to see them off. He raised his hand in farewell, then boarded the airplane.

 

16

 

Thratchen cautiously approached the great hall of Illmound Keep, responding to the Gaunt Man's summons as soon as he arrived back in Orrorsh realm. Thratchen was from the cosm of Tharkold, and once served as chief lieutenant to the High Lord of that techno-horror realm. But Tharkold suffered two recent defeats: one to Kadandra and the brat Mara, and one to the Soviet Union of Earth. Subsequently, the Tharkold realm was never attached to Earth. It could take his old master decades to regain the power necessary for another

 

cosm raid.

but Thratchen was on Kadandra when that world destroyed the maelstrom bridges connecting the two . cosms together. The Kadandrans used every bit of their cybernetic knowledge to build weapons of war to defeat the remaining Tharkold invaders—who the Kadandrans .. called Sims. Thratchen discovered that the reason for his master's defeat was that the Kadandrans were ready for their arrival. A young scientist — a child prodigy! — named Dr. Hachi Mara-Two had discovered the existence ol the cosmverse, and her studies revealed the approach of the Sims.

Stranded alone on the hostile world, Thratchen I racked down the young woman, killing her friends and associates along the way. But Mara eluded him by actually stepping into the cosmverse and disappearing from Kadandra. She had gained this power of transportation by using the energy of stormers, and while Thratchen was enraged by her escape he was also intrigued by the possibility of gaining this new power for himself.

Using her own transference cylinder, Thratchen followed Mara to another cosm. And then came the cruelest turn of all. Mara had discovered their plan to raid Earth as well, and she sent herself to this cosm to aid its people. While that enraged Thratchen even more, it also made him more anxious to catch up with the stormer and pry her secrets from her. Once on Earth, however, she teamed up with other stormers and suddenly the possibilities stretched before Thratchen like an unending highway. He pledged his service to the Gaunt Man and went about ensuring the safety of Mara and her companions until both they and he could discover all of the implications of their burgeoning

 

abilities.

He moved through the corridors of the keep at a steady pace, neither hurrying nor slowing. The great hall was ahead of him, its double doors opened slightly as if in wait for some intended prey. Two more paces closer, and then a large form stepped out of a shadowy alcove. Thratchen, startled by the near silent emergence, expanded his claws and dropped into a combat ready stance.

"Nervous?" the large form asked. It was Scythak, one of the Gaunt Man's hunters, and his tone had a definite mocking quality to it.

"Step aside, Scythak," Thratchen ordered. "I have business with the Gaunt Man."

"Yes, you do," the giant agreed. "I don't know what you've done, but the master has been in a dreadful rage. Perhaps when he's done with you, I'll be given your rank."

"Don't count on it, shapeshifter," Thratchen said as he shoved his way past. He could feel the glare of Scythak's eyes upon his back as he moved into the great hall. He shut the doors behind him.

The hall was dark this day. The heavy curtains were drawn tight, and only the dancing flames in the fireplace provided light. Sitting in a high-backed wicker chair was the Gaunt Man, flickering shadows played across his skeletal features. Across his knees rested his ever- present cane. It had a dragon-head top (the Carredon's head, actually, Thratchen noted), its jaws opened wide. Caught firmly in those jaws was a small blue and red stone — a piece of an eternity shard.

"You summoned me, master?" Thratchen asked, dropping to one knee and bowing his head before the being who claimed the title, Torg.

"I am disappointed, Thratchen," the Gaunt Man said, his voice like the fetid gust of an opening tomb. "I have felt the failures in Core Earth, but you must tell me the details."

Thratchen swallowed hard. He had to be careful with this game he played .His position was not as secure as he liked, and the wrong word or phrase could spell his destruction at the High Lord's hand.

"The Carredon is dead, my lord, killed by Tolwyn of Aysle and an Earth priest named Bryce," Thratchen explained. "Her sword and his use of an eternity shard were more than the dragon could withstand."

"I do not understand this!" the Gaunt Man raged, slapping the cane across his lap. "The Carredon has never failed, never even been seriously injured. Who is this woman that she frightens Uthorion and slays the Carredon? Who are these stormers that can use raw possibilities without the aid of a focus device?"

"Perhaps they do have a focus, master," Thratchen said quietly.

"Explain yourself."

"Perhaps they are able to focus the possibilities through themselves."

The Gaunt Man dismissed the notion with a wave of his elongated hand.

"There is more, High Lord," Thratchen continued. "Malcolm Kane is dead, as well. And the stormer from Kadandra still lives."

"What were you doing during all of this, Thratchen? Tell me why you survived so that I may kill you for your cowardice."

"I arrived too late to help either the Carredon or Kane," Thratchen lied. "All I could do was observe as the battle came to a conclusion. But the runes of never life and never death were placed within one of the stormers. The one called Decker, I believe."

"So, he must have refused my gracious offer," the Gaunt Man mused, obviously trying to sort through the recent events and all there possible consequences. "I shall enjoy studying his life as it enters my machine. But what of Kurst? What was his role in all of this?"

Thratchen thought for a moment, deciding on the best way to salvage the situation he found himself in. He decided that redirecting the Gaunt Man's anger could buy him the time he needed to finish his observations.

"I cannot be sure, since I arrived so late, but I believe that your hunter was helping the stormers," Thratchen finally said. "He shifted into wolf form and battled at their sides."

The fire that erupted in the Gaunt Man's eyes was more intense than the heat from the flaming hearth. When the High Lord spoke next, the tone caused a chill that effected even Thratchen's cyber implants.

"Leave me, Thratchen," he said with menace and implied destruction. "I must determine the next course of action. But know this: the stormers shall pay for these affronts. They shall pay with their very souls."

 

17

 

Julie Boot looked up, startled, and realized she had been dozing off in the muggy warmth of the Twenty nine Palms Marine Hospital, baking as it was in the heat of the double-length day. Somewhere off, she heard the roar of a plane engine, which signaled the departure of the strange group that had arrived over a week ago. She eased her back from the stickiness of the chair, crinkling vinyl as she stood and stretched out the kinks of several hours straight work with a slow T'ai Chi routine. Nearby, lying still and deathlike on the bed, was Congressman Andrew Jackson Decker, who she had come to consider her patient, even though she was only a nurse and not a full-fledged doctor.

Decker's face was pale and gray, and his eyes were closed, the muscles flicking with little convulsions. A light cover was drawn up to his waist, crisp and white and still military clean, despite the emergency setup. But in his chest were the two staves of metal, glowing rods that resembled twin daggers thrust into his dying body.

He probably should have been in ICU, but the beds were full and his companions had flown him all the way from the Grand Canyon without killing him. The tall one, Tolwyn her name was, had said something about his not being able to die, even if he had wished. "The runes," she had said, pointing to the shafts in Decker's chest. "He will never die; he will never live." Then she had said no more, until the priest, the only unwounded one among them beside the teen, had gone to comfort her.

So they had taken a chance and put him in a regular room, and either she or a doctor or one of the companions had had him under observation since he was brought in, the metal staves glowing obscenely in his body like electric eels feeding at carrion.

 

Julie crossed to the window, looking out over the compound and beyond, northto where one of the local marine units was even now driving back an invading army. They'd been doing well, but just lately, as though the attackers were running out of momentum after their incredible initial surge. Julie shuddered, squinting into the ash-dimmed sun as if she could see a hundred miles and judge the marines' progress. She'd seen some of the attackers — nightmare creatures out of a museum, bipedal dinosaurs and ape-men and other things too horrible to name. She shuddered again, remembering that one of the invaders had arrived with Decker and was now a guest of the base. Tal Tu, the companions called him, and the lizard man actually used human speech.

She checked on Decker again, but of course there was no change. She gazed at him for a long time, something about him troubling her aside from the obvious facts of his injuries; something about the set of his face, the feelings emanating from him. Even in his coma-like sleep, he was handsome and dashing looking, but there was something ... a sadness, a pain that was not related to his wound. It was etched in his face as if by long years of use, like laugh-lines that ran in the wrong direction.

Decker's eyelids pulsed, the eyeballs moving quickly back and forth in REM, Rapid Eye Movement, a type of sleep that indicated the dream state. She wondered what a man who was dead and not dead could be dreaming of.

 

18

 

Andrew Jackson Decker dreamed he was walking along a beach, listening to the waves wash against the shore. He knew he was dreaming, but it was the most realistic dream he could ever remember having — very much like his dreams of the Heart of Coyote. With every step he took, he felt the sand shift beneath his shoes, felt the salty spray of the ocean upon his face. And still he walked, choosing to climb one dune or to go around another, content to simply let the dream run its course.

He reached the top of the next dune and paused, tilting his head back to catch the sun. The warmth felt

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