“I think, old man, you should think about saving your own hide at the moment,” Norreen said.
Hammen shook his head.
“I did that once before; I’ve lived with it ever since. I guess I’m tired of living.”
He looked back up at the sky.
“Especially now.”
“You crazy man,” Naru said. “I thought you make good servant for me now One-eye gone. But you crazy man.” And the giant laughed.
“Norreen, show this hulk where to take her. I don’t think she’d be safe back at her House anymore.”
“Like hell. I’m fighting and, besides, I can’t stand her.”
“Damn it, Benalian. Just do it. It’s what Garth would have wanted.”
She lowered her head.
“Thanks a lot.”
Hammen smiled.
“Now get out of here.”
The old man turned and waded back into the crowd, his voice rising above the tumult, shouting for members of his old brotherhood to rally to his side.
“Let’s go,” Naru announced, looking down at Norreen and grinning. “Naru lucky. He have two women now.”
Norreen’s sword flicked out, cutting him lightly across the legs so that the giant yelped and stepped back.
“Come on, you ox, let’s find a place for this woman and get back into the fight.”
CHAPTER 15
GARTH STAGGERED THROUGH THE DARK CLOUD, nearly blind, choking on the poisonous air. He again erected a circle of protection, which filtered the poison out, letting thin wisps of breathable air flow into his starving lungs.
Another blow hit him and the circle collapsed.
Cursing, Garth waved his hands over his head, drawing out yet another circle, and again the barrier was erected. He waited, but there was no attack. He probed outward, searching with his senses.
The Walker was there, and yet not. He was struggling, but it was against something else, something dark and powerful. There was time now, and Garth took advantage of it while his foe was diverted by another struggle with something far more dangerous and insidious.
Garth gathered in his strength, and then drew on spells that caused the strength to double and yet double again. He raised his hand, forming a circle before his eye with forefinger and thumb, and the power to look into the spells of his opponent was created.
He was stunned by all that he saw, hundreds of spells, many of them undreamed of, obviously taken in realms and planes of existence unknown to mortals. And yet there was a weakness as well.
The mana, the precious mana that fueled the power of the spells, was weak, spread out and diverted by a myriad of struggles. So it was as he suspected.
All that he had learned in the years of growing and planning was true after all. The fading books, hidden in the place of refuge his father had sent him to, the place where he had studied and learned, had spoken of this. What his father had suspected and written down was true, that the hold the Walkers had upon their powers had a weakness after all.
Garth smiled inwardly and continued to let his strength build.
The struggle between the Walker and the other foe came to an end and again the Walker’s power became focused. He turned back to face Garth.
“I’m sorry for the interruption,” the Planes Walker said, his voice a haunting whisper. “One of my enemies thought it was a convenient time to try and take back what I had seized from him. Of course you’ll understand that such a concern was more important than my sport with you.”
“Of course.”
“Ah, I see you’ve used the time well. Your power is stronger now. Good, good, the challenge is more amusing. Usually, when I bring a winner here they tend to grovel and whine at their fate. You have your father’s blood in you. I like that.
“Shall we begin?”
Garth extended his hands.
The Walker extended his hands as well and the dark plain upon which they stood was suddenly illuminated with a shimmering light, the green clouds rolling back to reveal a dark red sun overhead that filled half the sky. A golden circle outlined a flat, open field that stretched to the far horizon, which seemed impossibly far away.
“An arena field for our amusement,” the Walker announced.
A red shimmering lit the field and an instant later a demonic horde was deployed, scimitars, tridents, and skull standards raised high. With a keening howl they raced forward.
Garth extended his hands and a living wall was erected before him, momentarily blocking the attack. Move followed countermove. A Lord of the Pit under the Walker’s control emerged out of the ground and Garth, in turn, hurled it back upon the demonic hordes, destroying them, the monster roaring with delight as it rent the creatures and devoured them. A dark force of nature was next brought forth to tear the demon apart. Dragons fought in the sky overhead, doppelgangers stalked each other, hydras battled atop the wall, which came crashing down, and djinn struggled on the ground between the two fighters.
“You are more amusing than most,” the Walker announced. “If I did not have an engagement elsewhere I think I would actually let this play out longer.”
“Then finish it,” Garth taunted. “Or don’t you have the strength? Do it and be damned.”
The Walker raised his hands with an angry curse and stepped forward. Garth staggered backward, pushed by an invisible power that lashed into his soul. He drew forth a rank of bodyguards to take the punishment but within minutes they had collapsed, writhing in agony and dying.
More blows slammed into Garth, draining his strength, and he started to crumple, going down on his knees.
The Walker drew closer and looked down at Garth, who was leaning over, panting for breath.
“Too bad, One-eye. I’ve enjoyed our visit. I sense that your life force is nearly spent.”
Garth looked up at him, his face drawn and pale.
“Go to hell, you bastard.”
The Walker sighed.
“I think I am already there.”
He raised his hand and pointed downward with the final blow.
Garth raised his hand, drawing on the one spell that he had kept hidden until this moment.
The blow of his opponent struck and, for a brief instant, Garth thought that his conjuring had failed and he was falling into the lands of the dead. And then it took hold. All the damage that he had sustained was drawn out of him and he was again whole. At that same moment all that he had suffered slammed into his opponent. With a loud cry the Walker staggered backward, his shadowy form hissing, coiling upon itself and writhing on the ground. Its howls of agony caused Garth to cover his eye lest it be shattered.
Garth was on his feet, racing up to the Walker’s side. The shadow was changing, taking a near-human form. And again Garth used his power to look inward, to sense all that his opponent had.
He found it and, reaching out, snatched the one form of power he had come for and, with it, the mana of his world that controlled it and gave it strength.
The Walker howled in impotent rage, struggling to heal himself even as he slipped away.
With an invisible hand Garth grasped the spell that opened the portal of worlds, that changed reality, twisted the flow of time, and made all things possible. He struggled against the Walker to take as well the mana that bound and controlled the spell.
The Walker started to recover, screaming in rage as that which gave him access to the world of his origin was pulled away from his grasp. Garth struggled and swayed, ignoring the explosive pain to his hands, trying not to feel, not to notice that fire was curling his fingers black.
He felt his hold on the Walker’s spell starting to slip as his foe regained his strength. Reaching inward Garth drew on what little he had left and in that moment his own power and mana were doubled. He wrenched the control of the planes gate away from his opponent and fell backward. The Walker came back up and, howling with a mad demonic rage, raised his hands and pointed.