No Inyx.
" She' s not here," he said, crestfallen.
" There is no way to know how long it has been since she arrived," said the spider.
" But it' s only a day."
" It was only a day for us. Time moves strangely on different worlds. She might have been here a week already. She might have decided we were not coming and gone exploring on her own."
" She wouldn' t do that," protested Lan. But in his heart he knew Krek was probably right. Inyx lacked patience. She might have decided that they could follow her when they arrived.
Krek jumped out and lightly dropped into soft earth beside the gravesite. He bobbed up and down, canting his head to one side while thinking his spiderish thoughts. Lan didn' t bother asking what those thoughts were. He began circling the cenotaph, studying the ground, looking for a sign indicating where Inyx might be. He had fought too long and hard and had gone through too many tribulations to give up easily on her.
So close. Back on Mount Tartanius she had been just inches away before the magic of the cenotaph transported her here.
His magics, his cenotaphs. Lan Martak cursed himself for not understanding better the magics contained in Abasi- Abi' s brown leather- bound grimoire. His hand touched the book carefully tucked away inside his tunic. The lore of the ages rested in that small book. Learning it wouldn' t be an overnight task. Abasi- Abi had spent his life growing in power; when he faced Claybore, that knowledge had only delayed his final fate.
Lan dropped to hands and knees and examined a scuffed area in the dirt.
" Krek, look at this. A group of men were here, perhaps three or four days ago. The weathering of their footprints shows as much."
" There has not been any rain," said the spider. " For which I am thankful. How ugly having water fall from the sky and mat the fur on your legs."
" The prints, Krek," said Lan, bringing his friend' s attention back to the ground.
" Ah, yes, the prints. A dozen soldiers."
" All the imprints are the same," said Lan, feeling a coldness creeping up inside. If the men waiting around had been the usual ragtag band of itinerants, their boots would have different markings. All these heelprints were identical, with the only difference being the size of the sole. Soldiers.
" There is some small sign of Inyx. There." The spider pointed using one of his long legs.
" Yes, that might be Inyx' s," said Lan, " but we can' t tell. It' s different, but it' s been stepped on too many times."
" She might be in the hands of the grey- clad soldiers."
" Or maybe these are local militia." Lan said it and didn' t believe it. Claybore' s skills were vast. He might have felt the creation of a new cenotaph leading off Mount Tartanius. If so, it was a small matter to send a company of soldiers to watch this site. When Inyx emerged, the soldiers captured her.
And he had been the one sending her directly into their arms.
" Nothing I do is right," Lan lamented.
" The creation of this cenotaph was well done. You still learn, and we do battle with a powerful mage. All in all, you have not done badly. With a few exceptions."
" I don' t want to hear about it," said Lan, cutting off the itemized list of his failures. He knew them only too well. Each and every one burned like a fresh wound in his mind.
" The soldiers," said Krek, moving about in a rocking motion, his tiny head bobbing and mandibles clacking ferociously, " went this way. Shall we, also?"
Lan checked to be sure his sword slipped easily in its sheath, then began his long, ground- eating stride in the direction Krek had indicated. It might have been a day or a week before that the woman had come through the cenotaph, but now only distance separated Inyx from them.
" The world is full of game, good forests teeming with edible plants, everything we could want." Lan lounged back and stared up into the cloudless blue sky. For two days they' d tramped along, following the trail left by the small patrol of grey- clads. The lack of any indication that Inyx was with them made Lan a little uneasy, but this seemed their only choice. He carefully examined the tracks at every point along the way, hoping for some sign showing the woman' s presence, and finding none. He went forward on hope alone.
" What a singularly annoying sound," said Krek. The spider hunkered down into a lumpy brown mass next to a tree. " The shrieking sounds pierce my ears."
At first Lan didn' t hear anything. It finally came to him, distant, high- pitched. He scanned the clear sky and found two dots weaving and darting about. Squinting, he saw tiny jets of flame lancing from the rear of each spot.
" Whatever can that be?" Lan felt an uneasiness as the dots grew in size, coming closer. His burgeoning sense of magic twinged like an arthritic knee before a rainstorm.
" They move too quickly to be gliders."
" But they are under human control."
" They certainly would not be under arachnid control," sniffed Krek. " No self- respecting spider would ever enter such a dangerous flying contraption."
The dots grew in size until Lan made out details. Metallic, the craft sported short wings on either side and had markings indicating opposing sides in some unknown war. The craft engaged in swiftly paced aerial combat. Long lances of eye- searing violet flame lashed from the back, somehow propelling the craft and keeping it airborne. As the craft maneuvered for position, huge gouts of fire lashed forward in attempts to engulf the other craft. Lan noticed that, as the front of the craft spewed forth flame, it shuddered and slowed. Only when the forward fires died did the speed pick up again.
" An odd form of combat. One totally not to my liking," said Krek. " You humans manage to find the most diabolical ways of killing yourselves of any species I have encountered along the Cenotaph Road. It is a wonder you are proliferating so while displaying such vicious, self- destructive tendencies."
" The one has a skull emblem on the side. Do you think:?" Even before Lan got the words from his mouth, that craft swerved, seemed to slide sideways in the air, and got behind the other craft. Flames danced forward, searing the enemy' s tail section. Lan winced when he saw the result. The craft in front blasted apart in midair.
" A fire elemental," he said in awe. " I read about them in AbasiAbi' s grimoire, but even he lacked the spells to properly contain them." In midair danced the now- released propulsive system of the doomed craft. The elemental shrieked in glee at being freed and arrowed straight up and out of sight. Its shrill cries of freedom rang in Lan' s ears long after it had gone.
" The craft comes down nearby."
" The man inside," said Lan. " He' ll be killed if he stays with it."
The metallic bird tumbled and pitched, pieces cartwheeling away as it descended. Lan saw the pilot push back a transparent hatch, then vault into air, seemingly to his death. Lan' s heart almost stoppedthen he felt intense magics forming again.
Air sucked away from where he stood, rushed together, and formed a vortex surging upward into the sky. The cyclone caught up the man flailing about in midair and tossed him back into the sky. Battered by the high winds generated by the air elemental but pulled inexorably by gravity, the man slowly came to earth.
Long before his feet touched the ground, the remnants of his craft smashed into the forest not a hundred yards from Lan and Krek. Lan glanced up at the pilot, still whirling around in his personal storm, then ran for the downed and smouldering craft. His curiosity overpowered his desire to help the man.
Krek followed until they came within a few feet of the craft. Hot metallic smells filled the air. The craft' s tail section had vanished and one wing had been ripped off in the descent. The cramped quarters where the pilot had crouched rested above a thick tube running the length of the craft.
" That' s how they did it," marvelled Lan. " They trapped the fire elemental. The rushing heat expelled from the rear shoved the craft forward, but when the pilot wanted to attack, he opened up the front end of the chamber holding the elemental. Flame rushed forward, along the tube the pilot straddled. The elemental' s heat gushed out to spray the enemy craft."