" You' re trying to bribe me?"
Even as Lan formed the words, he parried a magical bolt that would have wrecked entire cities. He parried and returned a bolt no whit less powerful.
And so went the battle. Each mage probed for the other' s weakness. And neither one found the crucial spot for the final thrusting, the most vulnerable point. Lan called more and more on the throne for power- and felt another attraction.
" Kiska," he moaned softly. " Come to me. I need you!"
And Kiska k' Adesina stood beside him while he battled Claybore. Enemies to the death, they held one another like lovers while Lan' s spells sizzled and cracked about their heads. With each spell cast, the fatal attraction grew.
Lan knew what Claybore did. The other sorcerer played a waiting game. The stalemate improved his position immensely, because Lan bound himself more and more tightly to Kiska with every passing instant.
" No!" Lan wailed. A brief flash of insight told him he was lost. The ties between Kiska and himself had been forged too strongly. He mentally slipped and allowed Claybore to rob him of the throne. A spell from the gesturing sorcerer caused frost to form. Lan stood and the throne turned to powder behind him.
" Where does your power come from now, Martak?" asked Claybore. " You are growing weaker, even weaker. Surrender to my will!"
Lan heard the words, hated the attraction to Kiska k' Adesina- and oddly, grew stronger. Away from Lirory' s throne, new and subtly different power surged through his arteries. He discovered untapped reservoirs within that caused the energy derived from the throne to pale in comparison.
" You have learned much," congratulated Claybore.
Lan had learned. No compliment came without its barb.
Lan jumped back just as Claybore' s shadow hound slashed out at his legs. The beast had sneaked up on him by coming through other dimensions, other worlds. Kiska hanging on one arm, the hound snapping and clawing at his legs, Lan Martak fought as he' d never fought before.
" Begone!" he cried, forming a spell that violated space around the shadow hound. The creature puffed! out of existence. Claybore ceased his attack, and Kiska moved from him to hunker down near a low wooden table.
Stunned at the sudden cessation of all battle, Lan reeled and reached out to support himself. He staggered until he found a wall. Head ringing like a bell, sweat pouring from him in rivers, he panted as if he' d finished running a daylong race.
" You won!" came Kiska' s words.
But Lan knew that was false. He had not won. He had lost. Claybore played the game skillfully. He had traded the shadow hound for a strengthened geas binding Kiska to Lan. No matter how he tried now, Lan Martak knew he could never allow himself to be separated from Kiska k' Adesina.
What would Claybore' s next move be? Lan couldn' t tell, but he knew he' d soon enough discover it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Krek stood to one side watching as Lan Martak battled Claybore. The shadow hound vanished with a pop! and the struggles ceased. All that remained in the chamber was the lingering feeling that, while Claybore had left, he had not been defeated.
" You won!" cried Kiska k' Adesina. " To defeat a mage with Claybore' s power you must be the greatest who ever lived."
Krek watched carefully as Lan reacted. The play of emotion on the human' s face bothered the spider. He knew so little about what actually made Lan Martak what he was. The feeling he had, though, was not good. Lan responded to his bitter enemy' s compliments.
" I haven' t won," said Lan. " He still seeks his legs- and I do not have them. I must get them. I must!"
Inyx came to stand beside Krek, her hand resting on one of his furry legs.
" What do you think?" she asked.
" He will not listen to anything we say," the spider replied. " But he will listen to her."
" Why?"
" You humans go about things in ways too bizarre to comment upon," said Krek. " I have often wondered at his tastes."
" This is different," insisted Inyx.
Krek said nothing. The dramatic transformation in his friend was not one he liked seeing. The kindness he had witnessed before in Lan Martak now vanished, to be replaced by coldness. The mage was driven by a single- minded determination to destroy Claybore. That wasn' t evil. But the changes occurring in Lan Martak were- especially his inability to force Kiska k' Adesina away.
" He doesn' t need us," said Ducasien. The man stood close to Inyx and hesitated when he started to put his arm around her waist. Krek saw that the woman was torn between Ducasien and Lan, not willing to commit herself to either one- not fully, not at this moment.
He shared the dark- haired human' s confusion.
" He does," said Inyx, but conviction wasn' t in her tone.
" Ask him."
Inyx glared at Ducasien, then stormed forward and planted her feet firmly in front of Lan.
" What can we do to help you defeat Claybore?" she asked.
The expression on Lan' s face caused even Inyx to take a step back. The contempt written there was withering.
" I don' t need you," he said. " Your powers are no longer sufficient. Claybore and I fight on a different plane. We battle among the worlds, all along the Cenotaph Road." He smirked when he said, " Only I can defeat him. Not even Terrill was strong enough. I am."
" Leave us," said Kiska, her tone haughty and her expression as contemptuous as Lan' s.
" I don' t take orders from you, bitch," snapped Inyx. Her dagger seemed to leap into her hand of its own volition and the warrior woman swung without even realizing she made the effort. The blade struck something substantial in midair.
Lan' s hand had been raised and his fingers moved in arcane magical patterns.
" Let me kill her," raged Inyx. " She is destroying you. Listen to this bitch' s words and Claybore will eat your soul!"
" Claybore doesn' t control her," Lan said. " I do. And I want her by my side. I: I need her." Sweat popped out on his forehead as he spoke and he began shaking as if he had a palsy.
" Lan Martak," spoke up Krek, " look to yourself. You are the weapon needed to stop Claybore. That much is evident. But you are destroying yourself. Without you, what chance does any of us have?"
" None," the man said. The strain passed and the contempt returned. " You' re only a spider. And her, she' s not even that." His brown eyes locked on Inyx' s cold blue ones.
Inyx spun and stormed off. Ducasien glared at Lan and followed the woman. Krek remained behind, emotionally torn in this matter. The spider felt himself at a crossroads and unsure what road to take from this point into the future.
" You did not say the proper words, Lan Martak," said Krek. " You embarrassed and enraged friend Inyx. That is no way to treat her after her long and loyal- and loving- service."
" Let her go," said Lan. " She can' t help me any more."
" And this lumpy female can?" Krek pointed to Kiska.
Lan said nothing, but the sweat began beading on his forehead once again. The strain he endured had to be tremendous, but his words did nothing to escape the geas.
" She can," Lan Martak said.
" She will destroy you. She is destroying you. She is Claybore' s pawn and nothing more. How does she treat you? Why do you allow her to know your strategies, your tactics? If she means so much, place her in safety- somewhere far away."
" No!"
" Lan Martak, you are in danger from her."
" Shut up, you miserable web- hanger. I have more important things to do. I have to find Claybore. Defeat him. He: he can' t recover his legs. And I know where they are. But using them- how do I use them for my own gain?"
" There are things worse than being conquered by Claybore," said Krek. " Loss of your own self- esteem is one."