Bloodstone (2 page)

Hechon glowered at Kane obstinately. Around them the other outlaws watched in nervous silence, almost imperceptibly shuffling away from the two. Abelin, Hechon's lanky lieutenant, carefully wiped his hands on his thighs and moved them out of Kane's sight, trying to read some signal in his leader's face. They would back him, Hechon decided.

In the strained silence even the voices of the night creatures seemed hushed and distant. Kane's eyes glowed with blue fire in the flickering light, cold death laughing derisively in their depths. Hechon had always felt a chill when he looked into those eyes, the eyes of a born killer. Uneasily he remembered the insane light that stirred in those eyes when Kane stood red with slaughter over those who fell before his blade in battle. Held next to his cheek in his left hand, the evil gleam of the bloodstone seemed to match Kane's uncanny stare. Even its scarlet veins seemed phosphorescent in the shadow of the firelight.

And Hechon knew Kane was not going to return the ring. Cold realization came that there was no course left him now. If he relented, Kane would have outfaced him before his men, and his command over them would soon change fists. Kane's challenge must be answered, now and forever.

Kane seemed immobile, but Hechon knew the deadly speed with which he could strike. His sword stood before him in easy reach, impaled in a root. Narrowly Hechon watched Kane's left hand--his sword arm--but Kane still stroked his cheek with the ring. The bandit leader shrugged. "Well, if you want the damned ring that much I guess you can keep it as your share." He seemed to relax, and he grinned about him at the others. As he did, Hechon caught Abelin's eye for a significant moment, and his fingers spread in an evident gesture of helplessness. "After all, Kane," he continued, "it's worth more to me to keep you..."

Abelin's hand suddenly flicked to his neck and flew back balancing a long-bladed knife from the sheath that hung between his shoulders. The bandit lieutenant's long arm straightened in unbroken motion to hurl the blade at Kane's chest.

But Kane had not fallen prey to Hechon's apparent acquiescence. Knowing the bandit chieftain's cunning, Kane had followed the other's eyes and caught the silent death sentence he had signed Abelin to carry out. And although Kane was left-handed, years of training had made his right arm almost as proficient as the other.

In the fraction of a second that Abelin required to send his blade flashing for Kane's heart, Kane hurled his powerful body to one side. As he leaped from his crouched position, the right hand that had strayed toward his right boot lashed out with the knife it found hidden there. Striking like a coiled serpent, Kane hurled his dagger across the fire like an arrow of light. Abelin's blade hissed past him as he twisted and thudded against the base of a tree. Still bending forward with his cast, the outlaw coughed in startled pain as Kane's knife drove its point through his heart.

Kane's lunge brought him to his feet even as he had thrown the knife. As the bandit lieutenant crumpled to his knees to realize that death had claimed him, Kane caught up his sword in his left hand, dropping the ring to the ground, and swung his boot into the fire. A blinding, searing wave of coals and burning embers exploded over the stunned bandits, driving them back in pain and confusion.

Hechon was reaching for his sword hilt the instant Abelin had drawn his knife. Throwing up his free arm to ward off the burning cloud of fire and ashes, the bandit leader whipped out the blade with frantic haste. Only barely did he raise his guard in time to turn back Kane's thrust.

Kane leaped across the fire, sword slashing like a fiery brand. Avoiding Hechon's return thrust, he struck again, swinging powerful blows that all but tore his opponent's hilt from numbed fingers. Forced to the defensive, Hechon backed away from Kane and strove desperately to stave off the attack until his men could shake off their surprise and come to his aid--if they would. Kane gave them no time to decide. As Hechon retreated around the scattered coals, something turned under his boot, causing him to sway off balance for only an instant. In that fraction of a heartbeat, Kane's sword eluded Hechon's failing guard and pierced his shoulder. Driven back by the blow, Hechon was helpless to block Kane's follow-through. A second later his smashed corpse flopped against the earth, spewing a torrent of crimson over the green-jeweled ring that glowed evilly in his dying vision.

Swiftly Kane scooped up the bloodstone ring from the darkened earth and straightened to face the other outlaws. Weapons drawn, they were milling about in confusion, uncertain what course was theirs to follow now that their leaders were slain.

"All right!" Kane roared, his reddened sword raised menacingly. "This ring is mine, and I'll kill any other damn fool who disputes my claim! Split the rest of the loot up among yourselves now! I've got what I want, and I'm leaving! Anyone who wants a quick trip to hell can try to stop me!"

No hand was raised against him. Retrieving his dagger and a handful of gold coins, Kane mounted his horse and thundered away into the darkness. Behind the jackals quarreled over his leavings.

The stones beneath his horse's hooves assumed an almost reassuring familiarity now, and Kane all at once was uncertain whether fifty years or as many days had passed since last he had ridden along this ridge. Trees grew sparse and stunted from the cracked and wind-sculpted rock, throwing odd shadows against the orange-red sun in the west. The wind that whipped through his hair and flapped the wolfskin cloak about his shoulders bore with it the cold scent of the sea, which verged as a blue ribbon into the hazy eastern horizon. Faint murmur of distant waves underscored the rush of the wind, and sharp cries of soaring birds rose in broken descant. These far-off dark shapes that hung and wheeled on the wind--were they ravens, hawks, or gulls? Or were they even birds? Kane was too concerned with keeping to the unfrequented and all but obliterated trail to give them further attention.

The ruins of a low wall crept into view, more sharply demarcating the ancient roadway he followed. Tumbled heaps of gray stone suggested fallen dwellings, and an occasional roofless structure now huddled against the crest of the ridge. As Kane rode closer to the ridge's summit, he could recognize the familiar details of her tower--a sweeping basalt spire that jutted perilously above a sheer plummet thousands of feet over the coastal plains far below. It seemed incredible that this tower had not plunged off into the abyss centuries ago, but Kane knew its fragility to be only illusion. For the about this tower had lain in ruins long before the great ocean that once surged mightily against the mountain wall had receded, and still the tower had stood without change.

Lights began to glow within the tower's high windows, Kane observed, as he guided his mount along the final few hundred yards of cracked roadway that led to the summit. More strongly now the familiarity of these surroundings impressed him, imbuing him with a curious sense almost of homecoming. The eerie changelessness of her world was all the more strange to Kane because of the restless state of flux in which he perceived existence. It seemed to him that in Jhaniikest's tower there existed a focus of timelessness within the ever shifting patterns of the remainder of the universe, a refuge, from time itself.

The tower gates swung open as he approached, throwing a mist of yellow light into the twilight that drafted over the ridges. Phantom guardsmen of a long-dead race clashed curious spears in stiff salute, and Kane's horse rolled frightened eyes and nickered nervously. Tired from days of hard riding, Kane eased himself from the saddle and led his snorting mount to the shelter of a roofless building near the tower's base. Tethering him, Kane saw that there was fodder enough growing through the cracked floor to occupy the animal until he could tend to him more fully.

Through slit-pupiled eyes the guardsmen watched impassively as Kane entered the tower portals. Behind him the doors closed with only a faint rasp, and he wondered when they had last swung open to admit a guest. Torches set along the wall afforded illumination as he crossed the entrance hall and ascended the stone stairwell that led to the levels above.

Jhaniikest stood by the head of the stairs, her half-folded wings framing the wide doorway. A smile of welcome drew thin red lips over needle-sharp white teeth as she held out her hand to him. "Kane! I saw you coming from above! All afternoon you've plodded along. I thought you had lost your way... maybe forgotten Jhaniikest over the years! I think it's been a century since last I saw you!"

"Not nearly that long, I'm certain," Kane protested, as he knelt to kiss the long-fingered, deceptively fragile hand. "Actually, I was thinking on the ride up that it had only been a few months since my last visit."

She laughed, an uncanny, high-pitched trill. "Kane... you're a total loss as a lover! Do you always tell your ladies that the years you've spent away from their presence have passed like days?" Her wide silver eyes appraised him in frank curiosity, the black vertical pupils almost circular in the darkened room. "You seem unchanged to me, Kane," she judged. "But then you always look the same--just like my shadow servants here. Come... sit beside, me and tell me what things you've seen. I've already had the wine and hors d'oeuvres set out."

Kane accepted a flagon of wine from a slender serving girl whose bones were long drifting with the dust. Lips set in concentration as she balanced the heavy tray and its fragile contents, she seemed to him fully alive; he even thought he could discern the quick pulse of breath stirring the fine tawny fur of her breasts. Jhaniikest's sorcery was potent, he mused as he sipped the wine--demon wine conjured out of some unguessable cellar.

"Brought you something I thought you might enjoy," he announced, tugging out the pouch he wore beneath vest and shirt. Fumbling through its contents a moment, Kane withdrew a tiny packet wrapped in soft leather and offered it to her.

Jhaniikest caught it up with eager curiosity and ran her finger over the packet in brief speculation before she sliced through its tie with a sharp talon and spread the wrapping apart. "A ring!" She laughed in delight. "Kane... what a lovely sapphire!" Murmuring vague sounds of pleasure, she turned the splendid blue star sapphire about in the light, trying it on one finger, then another, admiring the effect. She was an uncanny creature, Jhaniikest. Ageless offspring of a priestess of a vanished prehuman race and the winged god they had worshipped. Sorceress, priestess, demigoddess--for centuries she had lived in this tower that once had been temple for the race who had dwelt here. She had preserved this tower through magic while the remainder of the ancient city crumbled into ruins, and she had summoned from death the shades of her people to serve her here. A goddess without a heaven. Or perhaps this was her heaven, for she had lived in this desolate tower for centuries, occupying herself with such unimaginable designs and philosophies as only the elder gods could comprehend. Kane had discovered her partly by chance a great many years before.

She knelt on her couch with her long legs drawn under her, membranous wings folded but stirring restlessly, as if buffeted by unperceived winds. Aside from wings, Jhaniikest was not too dissimilar in form from a human. Her figure was almost that of a slender girl in mid-teens, although her limbs were disproportionately long, which raised her height to somewhat over six feet. Her chest seemed unnaturally deep from the thick bands of muscle that spread from the base of her wings down across shoulder and back and around to a keel-like breastbone. Small, firm breasts softened the sharp lines of her chest. Silver-white fur covered her entire body--fur short and fine as on a cat's face. Across her scalp and down her neck her hair grew long and billowy, a proud mane that any court beauty would envy. Her face was narrow, with piquant features, and there was an elfish point to her ears and chin. Jeweled ornaments glittered upon the silvery fur of her person--her only attire other than a golden belt of gems and bright silk scarves.

Her wings were Jhaniikest's most marvelous feature. Silver-furred bat's wings that reached from shoulder to hip and spanned to twenty feet when spread. Furled, they stood from her back like an ermine cape. Extended in flight, they shimmered opalescent in the sun. The inhuman strength of her compact and hollow-boned frame easily lifted her into the air, where Jhaniikest could soar for hours through the desolate skies. A winged goddess of a vanished realm.

The sapphire pleased Jhaniikest, as Kane, aware of her love of bright jewelry, had known it would. The gem, one of the finest he had gleaned in several years of banditry, was something her sorcery could easily surpass. But the goddess rarely received offerings in these years, and Kane had understood the delight his gift would bring Jhaniikest.

"What brings you to my realm once more, Kane?" Jhaniikest asked presently. "Don't tell me again that you rode this far just to give me jewelry and bring diversity to my days. It's flattering, but I know you too well. Kane's motives are never those he proclaims through a smile."

Kane winced. "Small thanks for my gallantry. Actually, though, it was a ring that brought me to your tower. A ring that seemed familiar when I first examined it. Not that I had ever seen it before, but a ring that I seemed to have heard of, or read about at some time in the past. Perhaps I acted rashly in acquiring the bauble, but if my memory hasn't begun to wander, this ring is the gateway to a world far beyond the dawn of mankind!

"I've left some things with you in the past, Jhaniikest. Priceless objects that I thought you might find interesting--that I knew I would lose myself before long. You will remember there were several old books--ancient volumes of sorcerous knowledge of the like seldom seen by others of my race. Once in studying these unhallowed manuscripts, I seem to recall, I found reference to a bloodstone ring... rather, a gem that resembled bloodstone. I've ridden several days to trace down that memory--although I've been planning for a long time to work my way around to visit you once again."