He' d doubted before he was a mage of any ranking. Now he knew differently. The confrontations with Claybore, the journey through the whiteness between worlds, the continual use of his magics and the growing scope of them, all fed his confidence and strength.
" Burn!" he cried. Flames exploded from his hand and blasted thirty feet into the air.
For a moment he was so taken by the accomplishment he forgot that it had been intended only to overwhelm the reflection- warrior. Lan turned his gaze downward from the top of the fiery column to his image, expecting it to have vanished.
It hadn' t.
The reflection hurled a column of its own skyward. Lan chanced a step closer. The heat from both his and the image' s pyromancy almost melted him. He felt blisters popping out on his face. His lips chapped and began to char. His eyebrows and hair singed.
Again, he retreated, vanquished by a reflection. He allowed the fire to die down into guttering ruin. Dropping to hands and knees, he felt like crying, but the intense heat had dried skin and eyes to the point where nothing came.
" I failed. I failed!" he moaned over and over.
" May I try, now that you' ve had your fun?"
" Fun, damn you, Krek, how can you say this is fun?" Lan held up his fire- blackened hands.
" You humans engage in totally pointless ventures. No amount of playing with fire strikes me as worthwhile." The arachnid shuddered at the thought of fire running up and down his furry legs, then turned and walked off across the plain, his taloned claws making clickclick- click sounds as he walked.
Lan got to his feet. The pain he felt was minimal; he' d get some small measure of pleasure seeing the spider fail. The arachnid simply didn' t understand what he faced. When he came to his own reflection, that would be it. And Lan would laugh.
Krek continued walking forward when his image appeared. The image grew in size as Krek got closer and closer. Lan found himself holding his breath. He let out a shriek of pure joy when he saw what happened.
" You' re through, Krek, you walked right on through the image!"
The spider stood at the doorway leading into the stone building.
" Of course," he said, as if he' d been certain of success from the start. Lan hesitated. Maybe the spider had been sure.
" But how? What did you do? Some spell?"
" I reasoned it through. The builder of this shrine wanted people kept out. But not all people. Why construct a shrine no one can enter? Therefore, there has to be some criterion for entry. The builder obviously does not like those bearing arms. I composed my thoughts and did not think warlike thoughts. I simply walked in."
" Let' s see if it really works." Lan cast aside his sword and knife. He took a second to settle his turbulent mind and cast off intentions of fighting to gain entry. Emotions still high, he advanced.
Fear, uncertainty, panic all assailed him when his image appeared. He had done battle with himself and lost.
This time there would be no battle. He came to enter the shrine, not to fight to gain entry. His mind turned from warlike thoughts to more tranquil ones. He desired entry into the shrine. He meant no harm. His intentions were peaceful.
He walked forward. The reflection advanced until they were nose to nose. Lan calmed himself still more and took still another step- past the image.
" I made it, too!"
" Naturally," said the spider, sniffing haughtily. " I told you it would work."
Lan hurried forward, then stopped at the door. His magic sensing ability burned like a star in the night. He " felt" and " saw" the Kinetic Sphere within.
" It' s here, Krek. We beat Claybore to it."
He straightened, pulled back his shoulders, and went in to reclaim the magical device that would solve all their problems.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
He waited for lightning to strike him dead. Lan paused just inside the doorway, straining his every sense for some hint of what to expect. The odor from the inside of the stone building was at odds with those normally found. Instead of a closed, musty odor, he detected only a faint hint of pine, of things growing, of freshness and springtime and warmth. The air lightly blowing across his blistered face healed, both physically and psychically. It put him at ease, made him believe the world could be better, was better. The quiet of the large, dimly lit room also soothed him. He felt no surge of claustrophobia, nor of vertigo. This was a room imbued with serenity. It was as if the builder had intended this shrine to be one for relaxation, for a spot to get away from the deadly rush of the exterior world.
Lan had never felt more at peace.
He took another step into the room, this time sure of himself. The room would not lash out at him with lightning bolts. He' d passed the test out on the mirrored plain. He had proven himself worthy of being allowed to savor the tranquillity of this spot.
The simple stone walls dripped water constantly, yet the temperature remained comfortable. The floor was covered with a soft, velvetlike material that made walking a joy, gave a spring to his step and a surge of energy for his legs. The only other entryway into the building was a doorway on the left adjacent wall, a door leading to the precipice looking down over the edge of the mountain and two miles of emptiness.
" There," said Krek, his voice low.
The arachnid indicated the dais in the center of the room. Lan didn' t need any special ability to sense magic. Setting atop the altar was a small wooden box, one foot by two by one deep. Radiating outward from this box came a flood of energies, the powers needed to open worlds without recourse to the cenotaphs.
Inside that box lay the Kinetic Sphere.
" Yes," said Lan, his heart feeling as if it would leap from his chest. He hurried across the room and, hands shaking, touched the lid hiding the contents of the box. Fingers stroking over rough wood, he finally lifted.
Blazing like a pink jewel, the Kinetic Sphere lay in the middle of the box. A soft grey powder surrounded it, cradled it, held it in a loving embrace.
" Now we can rescue Inyx." Lan reached for the Sphere.
" Powers of the earth, harken!" came the abrupt command. Lan turned and saw Ehznoll not five feet away. He' d not realized the man had followed him inside. He thought the pilgrim had remained outside, at the verge of Mount Tartanius, praying to his dirt.
" He wants the Sphere, too," said Krek.
" Is that true, Ehznoll?"
" It is the heart of the earth. Our creed is such that it must be returned to the center of the planet before all can be right again. The world festers and decays because it lacks its heart." Ehznoll began a chant, a chant that made Lan uneasy.
He' d heard those words before, the cadence, the soul- searing rhythm. Just before they' d shifted worlds, Claybore had uttered this exact chant and sent them all into the whiteness between worlds.
Lan saw pink pulsating light against the ceiling, the walls, his hand. The Kinetic Sphere had come alive. No longer crystalline in appearance, it developed arteries and veins, throbbed with life, became a living organ. Ehznoll' s chant had transformed it into a large four- chambered human heart.
Repulsed and fascinated at the same time, Lan found he couldn' t look away. The mitral valves opened and closed, pumping no blood, but functional just the same. Arteries twitched with pseudo- life. Veins attempted to return blood from a nonexistent body.
Coldness clutched at the man as those thoughts raced through his mind. He gripped the wooden box as awful suspicion struck him.
" Be silent, Ehznoll. Don' t say another word!" he screamed. The world spun about him and the chant continued. The Kinetic Sphere' s outlines altered; it quaked with anticipation. The grey dust cradling it shifted as the crystal heart vainly pumped. Lan leaned forward, his eyes screwed shut, his world crumbling again. The winds of magic blew constantly around him now. This room, once so peaceful, now assumed the aspect of deadly horror. He wanted to scream, to shout out his fear; no words came. His throat constricted with fear.