" Lan!" protested Inyx. But he had turned from her, dismissed her, had not even properly greeted her.
Inyx' s anger rose until Krek forcibly restrained her.
" Lan Martak' s power is too great to fight," the spider said. " Do as he commands- for the moment. You need food and water. Both you and friend Ducasien do."
Inyx' s gaze snapped around and fixed on Krek' s huge brown eyes. Although Krek had named Ducasien " friend," he had pointedly failed to do so with Lan.
Hot tears in her eyes, Inyx spun and left Lan without a backward glance. Krek heaved a deep, shuddering sigh and trailed along behind her, wondering if he should ask if such rude behavior formed a new part of human mating rituals that he knew nothing about.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Claybore shifted slowly on his metallic legs as his hands stroked over his body. The sensation of touch was superb. For so long he had been without arms and hands that he had forgotten the exquisite sense almost entirely.
Damn Terrill and his meddling ways! And damn the Resident of the Pit for giving Terrill the powers he needed for the initial dismemberment! But Claybore gloated now. He had triumphed, after so many centuries. Terrill lay dead- or better than dead- and the Resident of the Pit had lost all power.
Claybore continued stroking himself as he cast forth his scrying spell. Before him as if they were in the same room stood Lan Martak and Kiska k' Adesina. Only Lirory Tefize' s ashes remained on the floor, the throne upon which the gnome had once rested now lay inert, dull, more dead than alive.
" So he has defeated you, my friend," mused Claybore. " It is no great surprise. You were overconfident. If he had not dispatched you so easily, I would have done so soon enough."
Claybore studied the scene with some enjoyment. Lirory had thought to keep the upper hand because Claybore didn' t know where his legs were hidden. At that Claybore let out a laugh that echoed along the hallways of infinity, rocking from one planet to the next.
His shadow creature had sniffed out those legs in less than an hour- and located the various traps the gnome had laid. While Lirory' s magics had been great, Claybore' s were far greater. The shadow hound knew no dimension, slipped in and out of rooms and through walls and worlds, seeking, sniffing, finding.
" Should I loose you on him yet?" Claybore asked the shadow hound. A dim outline appeared at the mechanical feet. Savage fangs ripped forth and clamped on the metal leg, bending a strut and breaking off a cogged wheel. With a pass of his wondrously alive hand, Claybore sent the shadow hound bouncing away.
The creature flickered insubstantially as it strove to regain its position on this world. The ebony eyes burned with even darker swirls of hatred and the claws on the front feet pawed futilely in the air.
" Think not to turn on me, beast," cautioned Claybore. " I can send you back into nothingness. Just like this!"
The shadow hound let forth with an anguished howl of frustration and pain and: vanished.
Claybore waited for a few seconds, then resummoned the hound. Contrite now, it groveled at his feet. Claybore' s fleshless mouth opened in a parody of a smile. This was the way it had been in the old days, when his power was unquestioned, when he was able to do as he pleased on any world. A death here and there- who cared? He had been invincible.
Claybore would be again.
" Come along, my little friend," he said to the shadow hound. " I would speak once more with the Resident."
Claybore delighted in seeing his old nemesis captive and impotent while his own power returned. He reached the lowest levels of Yerrary and made his way through the rubble to the cistern where the Resident dwelled on this world. Claybore gestured for the hound to find a suitable blood offering. Nothing less than the still- living carcass of some animal would animate the Resident of the Pit.
The hound returned, a small rodent clutched in its mouth. The brown furry rat squealed in anguish as the punishing fangs cut through its flesh and sank bone- deep. Claybore motioned for the shadow creature to deliver the offering. The rat fell into the pit, twisting and trying to snap at its attacker.
A droplet of blood from a wound activated the sequence leading to the summoning of the Resident.
" I wished to speak one last time, Resident of the Pit," said Claybore. " When I regain my legs, I will again be in control. Does that bother you?"
" No," came the baleful reply.
" It ought to. You opposed me once and see where it has landed you. Once you were a god. No longer. I brought about your downfall."
" Terrill brought about yours."
" He is no more," snapped Claybore, the ruby lights in the eye sockets flaring forth in hot anger. " Just as you lost all in that battle, so did he."
" Terrill is not dead."
" Terrill is not alive, either," said Claybore. " I defeated him. I defeated you. And I want you to know that your pawn is soon to fall to my queen."
The Resident of the Pit did not reply. Claybore warmed to the telling, his audience unable to flee. Triumph flared within his breast, turned the Kinetic Sphere a soft, pulsating pink, made his entire body come more alive than it had been in a millennium. He gestured wildly, more for the sensation of movement than to emphasize his point. He wanted to gloat and gloat he would!
" You do not deceive me with your subtle workings, Resident. I know that is all you have left in the way of power. A nudge here, a touch there. Martak will fail you."
" He does not consider himself my pawn."
" He' s too stupid. Who else would have given him the abilities he has shown? He destroyed Lirory Tefize with hardly any effort. Lirory was a master mage. I say that it was you, Resident, who gave Martak the power. Oh, you were cunning about it. Ask Martak and he' d tell you he gained the ability on his own. I know better."
" He is a remarkably adept human."
" He' s a remarkably incapable one," countered Claybore. " You chose him, how or why I can' t say, but you picked him to be your champion. I have removed him permanently now."
" How so?"
" Don' t play coy, Resident. You know." Claybore strutted around, basking in victory and the way his fingers wiggled once again. He built scintillant sculptures in the air, then destroyed them with a sweep of his arm. This was what it meant to again live.
" My powers fade. I am so weak." The voice trailed off.
" You cannot gull me into such an obvious trap. Nor can you convince me Martak isn' t your special pet. But k' Adesina is mine and she subverts his power." Claybore perched on the edge of the cistern, metal feet dangling into the pit. Far below stirred the darkness, so similar to his own shadow hound and yet so different. " Martak uses his magics and the geas I placed on him grows stronger. He and Kiska k' Adesina are bound magically to one another now. She is a dagger placed at his throat. When the proper moment comes, when he cannot help himself, that dagger will sever his arteries!"
" Using others in such a fashion is but one reason why I opposed you then and do so you now."
" It doesn' t matter what you oppose or favor now, Resident of the Pit. I allowed k' Adesina to be captured. Even she does not realize how she has been forged into the perfect weapon against Martak. As the bond grows, so does her outward affection for him. But this is only a guise. Her hatred for him will destroy him- and he will be powerless because of my compulsion geas."
" He is no apprentice. He knows the nature of the spell."
" Oh, yes, he might suspect the geas, but he will be completely unable to do anything about it. That is the beauty of my revenge. Martak understands that Kiska will be his destruction and he cannot stop it. He welcomes it and hates himself even as he does."