The Destroyer of Worlds (15 page)

Wycliffe raised his eyebrows. “I…ah…I beg your pardon?”

“The man who led the scientists who built the first nuclear bomb. I read of him, in the books you provided. Do you know what Robert Oppenheimer said, when the first nuclear bomb was exploded?” said Marugon.

Wycliffe shrugged. “Something about destroying worlds, I think. Or was it a John Donne poem, the one about the Trinity?” 

Marugon smiled, his dark eyes tense and gleaming. “Yes. If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst into the sky…I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds.” He laughed, the sound sending unpleasant chills down Wycliffe’s spine. “What a foolish thing to say, is it not? The first nuclear bombs only destroyed two cities. A few hundred thousand people. What is that? Nothing.” He paused. “Do you know what the irony is, Senator Wycliffe? Do you?” 

Wycliffe blinked. “Um…no.” 

“Oppenheimer’s project destroyed two cities. Even now, the nations of Earth have the capacity to destroy themselves ten thousand times over, but that is still the destruction of but one world. One world. Nothing in the face of the infinite blackness between the worlds.” Marugon snorted. “The Destroyer of Worlds, indeed. But this bomb, this bomb that will destroy…” He blinked and stared off into space for a moment, his face both exultant and terrified and exhausted.

“Lord Marugon?” said Wycliffe, unnerved. 

Marugon shook himself and looked up. “I shall depart into the Tower shortly. You will not see me again.” He smirked. “Enjoy your power and wealth, Thomas Wycliffe. Enjoy it well.” 

Wycliffe blinked. Was it to be so easy after all? “Are you leaving at once?”

“Soon,” said Marugon, lowering his gaze. The disk settled on top of the black case. “Some preparations must be yet made.” He muttered a spell. The disk vibrated, flashing with shadows, and sank into the black metal.

Wycliffe stepped back. “That might make the bomb go off.”

Marugon fixed him with an irritated glare. “It will not. Now leave me.” He returned to his spell casting. Wycliffe shrugged, turned away, and headed back to the control room, Kurkov following. 

“You know,” said Kurkov, dropping into one of the chairs, “I always thought he was mad. Now he’s gone absolutely batshit.” He lit a cigarette.

Wycliffe scowled. “Do you mind not smoking? You'll get ash into the equipment.” Kurkov ignored him. “Perhaps Marugon does want to kill himself. Go out a blaze of nuclear glory among the ruins of Carlisan, perhaps.” He sighed and settled into a chair. “Tragic, I suppose. But what is that to us? If he wants to destroy himself, then let him! So long as he does it on his world. It wouldn’t do to start Jones’s term with Chicago reduced to nuclear ashes.”

Kurkov grunted and blew out a cloud of smoke. “And you’d probably be dead.”

“There is that,” said Wycliffe. “And I have more important things to worry about.”

“Such as my fifty million dollars, for instance,” said Kurkov.

Wycliffe gritted his teeth. It was a small price to rid himself of Marugon. “How do you want the money?”

“Some of it in cash,” said Kurkov. “Others in assorted stocks and bonds. A large percentage of it into various Swiss bank accounts. The rest into various dummy corporations that my organization controls. The money will need to be thoroughly laundered before I take possession.”

Wycliffe nodded. “For my protection.”

Kurkov snorted. “And my own, more importantly.”

“This will take a few days to arrange,” said Wycliffe. “I doubt you’ll want official attention.”

Kurkov waved a hand. “Of course not. But the process should be underway immediately.” Wycliffe nodded. “Have Dr. Krastiny and his men reported back yet?”

“No,” said Wycliffe, “and it’s starting to concern me.”

“Another potential scandal?” said Kurkov. “Don’t concern yourself. I’ll have to kill all three of them. They cannot take commissions from other employers. Suppose they take a commission to kill me?”

“Marugon likely didn’t leave them any choice,” said Wycliffe. “I suspect Goth will kill them once they’re no longer useful.” 

Kurkov scowled. “Another problem. I have to kill them myself.” He thumped his chest and put his boots up on the control board. “Only I can kill my employees.” 

“How inspiring,” said Wycliffe. “But don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll return any day.” 

Chapter 10 - The Plan

Anno Domini 2012

“Will the tide come in?” said Arran. 

He and Ally sat on a crumbling concrete wall overlooking a small beach. Cold gray water frothed at the sands, and in the distance Arran saw a breakwater and a lighthouse. Behind them lay a park of lawns and trees, now crusted with old snow, and then the gleaming towers of downtown Chicago. 

Ally almost smiled. “It’s a lake, Arran. Lake Michigan. We don’t have to worry about the tide.”

Arran grunted and watched the road. “I keep forgetting.” 

Ally smiled at that. She wore an old green overcoat and boots they had bought secondhand. Her face remained pale, her eyes bloodshot. She seemed much older that she had a week ago. 

Sometimes, when he touched one of his Sacred Blades, he felt the power that crackled in the air around her. 

“His granddaughter,” said Arran. He shook his head. “You were his granddaughter.” 

Ally kicked a chip of stone onto the beach. “Does that trouble you?” 

Arran shrugged. “No. I cursed his name, you know that. I thought he was a puppeteer, playing with lives for some goal.” He snorted. “And I was right. It was all a great web he spun. All of it to forge you, someone to fight Marugon.” He looked at the lake’s gray expanse. “I wonder if he arranged for me to find you. He must have. He told Siduri that Prophecy.”

Ally sat besides him, her legs dangling over the crumbled wall. “Would you have had it any other way? He knew I would need someone to protect me.”

Arran said nothing. He saw the confidence and strength etched on her face now. She did not need him to protect her any longer.

But he would be damned before he stopped guarding her.

Ally stood and stared at the road. “They’re here. I wonder where they parked.”

Four figures hurried down the road towards the park and the beach. Ally strode to meet them, and Arran followed her, snow crunching beneath his boots. 

“Ally?” said Mary, coming to a halt beneath a bare tree. Lithon hurried up besides her. He had a bandage around his head. Allard and Conmager lingered behind. “Ally?”

Ally grinned. “Yes, it’s me.” 

“Oh my God!” said Mary. She and Lithon ploughed into Ally at the same time, hugging her. Ally staggered, laughed, and regained her balance. “Oh my God. You’re okay. I was so sure you were dead or worse.”

“I saw him,” said Lithon, almost crying. “I saw the demon, I couldn’t do anything to stop them…”

Ally held them out at arm’s length. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m fine. Thanks to Arran.” 

“What happened?” said Mary. “Did he kill the demon?” 

In response Arran removed a bundle from over his shoulder and unwrapped it. A crown of red gold and a black scimitar fell to the snowy ground. 

“Goth-Mar-Dan,” he said, his voice quiet, “will no longer trouble this world or any other.”

“By the gods,” breathed Conmager, staring at the crown. “He’s dead? You killed him?”

“With Ally’s help,” said Arran. “I could not have done it alone.”

“Goth-Mar-Dan dead. At long last. The blood of countless thousands has been avenged. Who would have ever dreamed it possible?” Conmager ran a shaking hand through his graying hair. “Ally. I’m sorry. I did not think you could be saved. None of us had the strength to face one such as Goth-Mar-Dan, not even Arran. And Lithon. Alastarius’s Prophecy was about Lithon. I had to save Lithon.”

“It’s all right,” said Ally. “You did as you thought best. You were ignorant of the greater matter, as we all were.”

“It…” Conmager frowned, staring at Ally, and bit by bit Conmager’s watery eyes widened. “Master?” 

Ally almost smiled.

“It…it cannot be,” said Conmager. “You…your aura…it’s as if Alastarius as returned.”

“In a way, he has,” said Ally, “through me.” She hesitated. “Come on. There’s a lot we have to tell you.”

###

They walked along the breakwater, the waves hissing against the sand.

Arran began, and Ally listened as he told them of leaving the house in the night, of the magic in his brother’s blade that transported him to Chicago. 

“I owe Luthar a great debt,” he said. “His sword took me to a ruined factory in southern Chicago. Three men were there, assassins hired by either Goth-Mar-Dan or Marugon.” Arran told them of the battle and his fight with Goth-Mar-Dan in the factory. “And then I could use Luthar’s Sacred Blade." He shrugged. “I know not why. Ally…told me it was because of my brother’s death. A Knight could only use two Sacred Blades if one came from a fellow Knight who had fallen in battle. And then Ally…got up. She walked through the restrains and threw white fire at Goth-Mar-Dan. I ran him through, and Ally conjured a great spear of light and pinned him to the wall. He perished, she contacted you, and here we are.” 

Conmager coughed, his cane scraping against the concrete. “How did you wield such a spell? I knew you had the power in you…you drove off the winged demons and the changelings when we fled Chicago. Was it the duress that gave you the skill?”

“In part,” said Ally. 

She told them of the trance, the dream, Alastarius’s spirit, and his Prophecy.

“His granddaughter,” Conmager breathed. “Of course. I saw you, at Castle Bastion, before Marugon returned. But I did not know you were of Alastarius’s blood. I thought his family had perished.” 

“I inherited his powers,” said Ally, “and I also inherited his memories and skills. I buried them all, for they were too painful to contemplate. But my grandfather’s spirit gave me the chance to embrace then openly, so I did. For I have no choice. Marugon did not destroy the High Kingdoms for revenge or for conquest. Let me tell you the truth of the last of the Warlocks…the Marr’Ugaoun.” 

She described the visions Alastarius had shown her of Adelemoch’s death and Marugon’s birth in Castamar’s citadel. She told them how Marugon had come to Alastarius, how the children of the void had shattered his mind, and why Marugon had slain Alastarius’s family. 

“So…he’s not really human?” said Mary.

Allard blinked. “You mean he’s like a demon, or something?” 

“No,” said Ally. “He is human. His body is human, and at least part of his soul. But he is also Ugaoun, one of the children of the void.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not quite right. The children of the void are weak. Arran. You and Sir Liam slaughtered them in droves. Their numbers, not their strength, almost defeated you. But Marugon is mighty. He is one of the princes of the void. The mere sight of a prince of the void would drive most men to madness.” She shrugged. “And Marugon has heard their voices inside his skull all of his life, from the moment he was conceived. It has destroyed his mind, driven him into a state beyond madness. Always he hears the children and the lords of the void commanding him, cajoling him, begging him, threatening him, an unending chorus of a million voices.” 

“What do they want?” said Conmager. 

“Freedom.” Ally looked at Chicago’s skyscrapers. She remembered pictures she had seen in history class of the World Trade Center crashing to the ground in a cloud of flame and smoke. Thousands had died that day, and thousands more in the wars that followed. But Marugon wanted to bring down the Tower of Endless Worlds, and much worse would befall Earth if that Tower fell. “The Tower of Endless Worlds binds them, Conmager. It holds them prisoner in the black places between the worlds”

Conmager nodded. “And Marugon wants to free them.” 

“Yes. Think of the Tower as part of a colossal spell, one that imprisons the children of the void. Marugon wants to break that spell. He’s tried. He’s been trying for years. Arran’s seen the holes in the wall," said Ally. Arran’s eyes clouded with memory. “But Marugon failed. The Tower is too vast for one man to shatter. But there is a way. The Chamber of the Great Seal, in the very heart of the Tower.”

“I’ve been there,” said Arran. “I crossed it on my journey to Earth. It is the size of a city, the roof a great dome. In the center lies an enormous silver seal, carved with countless runes. It feels…it feels as if the entire weight of the Tower rested on that one point.”

“It does,” said Ally. “The Great Seal is the nexus of the spell that binds the Tower and the children of the void. If it shatters, the Tower will collapse, and the children of the void will swarm over the mortal worlds.”

Conmager grunted. “And Marugon’s found a way to do it, hasn’t he?” A look of dawning comprehension came over his face. “That’s why he came to Earth.” 

“Yes,” said Ally. “The guns did horrible damage to the High Kingdoms, but they were trifles. Marugon learned of nuclear bombs, the mightiest weapon ever created on Earth, and he will use one against the Great Seal. The power of a nuclear bomb can crack the Seal and bring the Tower crashing down.”

“Wycliffe’s Russian contacts,” said Conmager. “A criminal boss named Kurkov and his pet assassins. If anyone can get Marugon a nuclear bomb, Kurkov can. The man has a global empire of villainy.”

Ally nodded. “And once he has the bomb, Marugon will take it to the Great Seal and use it.” 

Allard swore. “But that’s insane. He’ll kill himself, if he does that.”

Ally shrugged. “Marugon is so insane that he no longer cares what happens to him.” She looked at each of them. “He will have the bomb in a matter of days. And it has fallen to me to try and stop him. That is why I accepted Alastarius’s powers, his memories. I did not want them. I had spent most of my life hiding from them.” A great flood of grief spread through her. Marugon had killed her birth parents, and his winged demons had murdered her adoptive parents. He had killed her family twice. “I must stop him. Not for revenge, not for hate, though I do hate him, but for all the mortal worlds. The children of the void wish to destroy us, and Earth will become a hell if the Tower falls.”

“I shall come with you,” said Arran, just as she knew he would. “I have spent too long looking for you, fighting to find you, to part from you now. And I have wanted the chance to kill Marugon for long years. You may go to save the mortal worlds, but I will come for you and to avenge my brother, my father and mother, Siduri, and the High Kingdoms.”

“I will fight besides you,” said Conmager. “I have spent my life in service to Alastarius. And you are his heir. And I, too, have many debts to settle with Lord Marugon.” 

Lithon folded his arms and stuck out his chin. “Well, I guess I’d better come. I’m Prophesied to kill Marugon or something.”

“Mary.” Ally looked at her friend. “You don’t have to come. This isn’t your fight. You can go your own way, if you wish.”

Mary folded her arms and scowled. “Like hell. This is my fight. You and your parents were nicer to me than anyone I’d ever met. I don’t understand half of what you told us, but I’m not going to abandon you now. You saved my life. And I shot at people for you. I guess that makes us, like, comrades. Or something.”

Arran laughed. “I daresay it does.” 

“Yeah. Anyway. I’m not leaving.”

Ally lifted her eyebrows. “Allard?” 

“Ah, hell.” Allard looked at the ground and kicked the snow. “I’d like to leave. I’d really would. But I’m not. This is partly my fault. I gave away those damn cigarettes. And I’ve got to make it right. Or at least try to.” He sighed. “Besides, Regent will kick my ass if I try to leave.”

“Damn straight, son,” said Conmager. 

“Good.” Ally smiled. “I could not do this alone.”

“And where do we start?” said Allard. 

“We start now,” said Ally. “Did you bring everything I asked in the van?” Conmager nodded. “Then let us be on our way. We’re going to Wycliffe’s compound.”

“What?” said Allard, sputtering. “That place is guarded like Fort Knox. I should know, I used to work there. And there’s winged demons there. And changelings.” He swallowed. “Lots and lots of changelings.”

“We must go there,” said Ally, not slowing, “because one of Wycliffe’s warehouses holds the only open door to the Tower.”

“Yeah, warehouse 13A,” said Allard. “I’ve been there too. Remember?” 

“It’s the only open door to the Tower,” said Ally. “All the other doors are one-way and cannot be opened from Earth. When Marugon has his bomb, he will use that door to enter the Tower. With luck, we can find him before he has the bomb. If not, we shall have to pursue him into the Tower.”

“That may be so,” said Conmager, “but there are at least five hundred changelings, if my calculations are right. All of them will be there, now that Marugon is no longer searching for you. Three dozen winged demons as well, all of them armed and armored. You may have the power of Alastarius, but you are still just one woman.” 

Ally gave him a tight smile. “I know this. Trust me, Conmager. It’s past time we liberated some of Marugon’s slaves.”

Conmager snorted. “You sound like Alastarius once did.” 

“Not surprising. I am his granddaughter, after all.”

###

The black magic roared through Marugon

He muttered spell after spell, weaving runes of power into the disk, fusing black magic into the metal of the nuclear bomb’s case. The disk’s power would push the bomb partway into the spirit world, transforming its explosion into a maelstrom of both physical and spiritual force. 

Nothing could survive such a blast. Not even the Great Seal of the Tower. 

The voices roared, their approval echoing off the inside of his skull. They demanded that he work faster, ever faster. 

Marugon tried to ignore them.

Perhaps he could soon have peace.