With a great effort of will she forced herself to stand away from the wall and regard the apparition as stolidly as it regarded her.
"Are… are you the Beast?"
"You may call me that if it pleases you. My own name for myself you would find difficult to pronounce, though it may be that in time you will come to know it."
"What do you want with me? The same thing that you want with the rest of my world?"
"No. If it had been my intention to destroy you, I could have done so long before now. You have been brought here not to perish before me but to give what you alone can give. You have been brought here for a marriage, though not of the sort you can imagine. It will be a much more intimate melding than you can conceive of."
"I don't know what you mean by such words but I do know this: if you could force this marriage or melding or whatever you choose to call it on me, you'd have done so when I was first brought here. But you've waited. Something has made you hesitate. So I think that perhaps you cannot take what you wish from me without my agreement."
"You are hopeful rather than certain. For now it amuses me to leave you wondering. What I wish from you is a part of your mind, your soul. You are special, Lyssa of Eirig. Unique. In you many generations have combined to produce something atypical to your world. I would make use of it. It raises you far above the mass of insects you call your 'people.' Now, with my help and instruction, you will rise beyond your wildest dreams."
"My dreams are not wild and I do not care to rise above them. As for help and instruction, I have already chosen a consort to share my life with me."
Laughter seemed beyond the creature. "You have chosen a paltry kingdom on an insignificant planet. I do not blame you for this. It is all you know. But there is more to the universe, much more. Why have a kingdom when you could rule an entire world? You could be queen and satrap in one, ruling absolutely."
"I have no desire to rule at all, absolutely or otherwise. I have chosen love."
"Love is fleeting," the Beast replied. "An abstract notion that humans have clung to for far too long. It cripples you, makes you susceptible to the manipulations of others. Only power is eternal. You must learn to rise above such childish notions. You must grow."
"One who rises beyond love has no soul."
"One who has power need not worry about such superstitious nonsense."
A clawed hand sprang to light in the darkness. As Lyssa stared, it became a ball of flame and leaped at her. She closed her eyes, expecting death. Instead, she found herself witness to a graphic demonstration of the Beast's power.
The flame slammed into the wall behind her, cracking and scorching the material while leaving her cool and untouched. It backed off the wall and enveloped her for a bright orange instant before she felt herself rising in the chill flame's grip. It held her suspended for a moment, then set her down as gently as it had picked her up, and finally shrank to become a tiny, intense globe of drifting energy.
The fireball crawled up her leg, across her side and arm, and as she stared at it curling and rippling in her palm, became a freshly opened rose, its petals damp with dew. Behind her the wall smoked and gave off strange thick smells.
"Such is my power," the Beast rumbled, its voice echoing around the chamber. "It can be yours. What are infantile notions of love compared to this? You can command an army of men to do your bidding. All you have to do is desire it."
"I already command an army of men."
There was the fleeting image of a great arm moving through an arc in the darkness. "I see no army."
"Set me free and you shall see such an army as Krull has not seen in a hundred years."
"Ah, that I will not do. Consider, Lyssa. I offer you power far greater than any you can imagine."
"I don't want your power. I don't want anything that is a part of you, anything you have touched, anything you have made. I want nothing to do with anything that has your hand in it."
"Is it my form that frightens you? Is that what keeps you so set against the sharing I offer? That is easily remedied."
As she watched, the great reptilian eyes blurred, seemed to drop nearer the floor. The pupils became rounded, as did the eyes themselves. They advanced toward her. Soon they were near enough for her to see that they looked out at her from Colwyn's face, and she could not repress a gasp. Save for the red that shone deep within, she could not tell that the eyes regarding her were not Colwyn's.
"I can assume any form I wish. Whatever pleases you I can become. It is an art my people have practiced for a long time. Think. Any form at all. If you would prefer a cat or a watchful dog, I can become those as easily. Any form you wish, Lyssa of Eirig."
"What about an ant? Could you become an ant?"
"I am no infant. Do not think to toy with me. I can punish as well as reward. I would expect you to choose this form."
"There is no love in that form. There is nothing you can become that will hide what you are. There is no love in one who murders and destroys for pleasure."
"I do not deny that the activities of my Slayers provide me with amusement, but you are wrong if you think there is no more to it than that. There is purpose as well." The voice remained that of the Beast, for all that it issued from Colwyn's mouth.
"You still think love better than power? You think there is love in your boy-king? You are as naive as any of your people. Behold."
The figure turned and gestured at the wall. It split, to reveal night and tall trees instead of the glowing corridor outside the chamber. As she watched, it seemed that they moved closer, until she was standing just to one side of a towering forest giant.
Figures stood there, one that she recognized instantly. Colwyn was leaning back against the shaggy bark. She had no doubt that it was the real Colwyn, her Colwyn, and not some false image conjured up by the Beast to deceive her.
But who was the lithe young woman who clung so tightly to him, and whose embrace he did not reject?
She whirled to confront the Beast. "It's a lie! You say you can assume any form. I have heard of how you manipulate faces and bodies as easily as a sculptor plays with clay. Why should I believe that that"—she gestured at the image before them—"is any more real than the form you cling to now? You are as full of lies as a solicitor. You think to fool me with clever prevarication, but I am not so easily swayed."
"Indeed you are not, for you refuse the evidence of your own eyes. These walls do not lie. I have no reason to deceive you now, not when the truth works for me. Your Colwyn will betray you."
"He will not!"
"Then he will die," said the Beast calmly. "Either way, you will be rid of this silly, immature human infatuation. It will simplify your future."
Lyssa turned back to the image, unable to tear her eyes from it. Go away, she shouted silently! Vanish, disappear! I don't want to look upon you. But the image did not vanish, and she continued to stare at it.
The woman in Colwyn's arms was crying. Lyssa noted out of the corner of an eye that the Beast seemed to be observing the scene with equal interest. Even as she stared, the pale blue of the woman's eyes turned to black. Lyssa would have screamed save that she knew her warning cry would go unheard. Black eyes—as black as those of the Slayers, nearly as black as those of the Beast. The woman was something other than she appeared, and Lyssa had no way of alerting Colwyn.
Vella clasped the man tightly against her. She could sense that he was wavering, but still he resisted. "I have not held a man in my arms since my lover was swallowed up by the sea. It is good. You are a strong man, Colwyn. Lend me some of that strength."
"I know how painful it is to be far from the one you love," he murmured uncomfortably. "We share a common pain."