Raven stood. He noticed that the figure in black, arm still straight, still holding Azrael in the aim of his weapon, was nevertheless swaying on his feet. Spots of blood were appearing on the floor beneath the black hem of the cloak, splattering to the floorboards between the black boots.
One of the soldiers said uncertainly, “If we all rush him at once …”
Wendy’s father turned his head to stare that soldier in the eye. When that man fell silent, he returned his unwavering gaze to Azrael. “You have been defeated, wizard!”
Azrael said coldly, “I will give you the shadow, Anton Pendrake, and take the substance; for I have the pith of victory like wine in my mouth; and you have the rind.”
Lemuel put his hand on Raven’s elbow, and whispered, “You did not tell me your wife’s maiden name!”
“Pendrake,” said Raven. “Gwendolyn Moth Pendrake. So what is this? How does this matter?”
Lemuel said, “There has always been an heir to the power of Logres, a power to bring justice to mankind. The head of Bran was brought to America when the English kings became tyrants; that’s why America has never been invaded successfully. We lost all touch with the bloodline long ago! Mordred’s heirs did not all share his wickedness, but even those heirs have forgotten who they are! This is a miracle!”
“What is miracle? What is all this things?” whispered Raven, rolling his eyes.
Wendy landed behind Anton Pendrake and wound her arms around his chest, pressing her cheek against his back, smiling.
Anton Pendrake did not turn his head, but kept his narrow gaze along his black-clad arm toward Azrael. “Careful, Gwendolyn! Don’t spoil Daddy’s aim.”
“I won’t, Daddy. Is Mommy coming, too?”
“Sweetheart, you know your mother can’t come out when the sun is up. Now, dear, can you call the Silver Key to your hand the same way you did the magic wand?”
Azrael’s face blushed dark when Wendy’s mother was mentioned, and the hiss of detestation that escaped his lips was audible to those below. Now he spoke. “Your daughter’s claim to Clavargent is without effect and force! Her possession is not lawful; founder of this house am I, and the Silver Key is mine, supreme against all other claims, except the present Guardian!”
Peter said, “That would be my dad over there, pal … Or maybe it’s me. The Key is ours. Cough it up.”
Azrael spoke in a cold voice. “The present Guardian is absent; the claims of yourself and your father to the guardianship of this great house have lapsed! Now, Pendrake, do you see? Death comes to claim Galen Waylock’s ghost; even now it comes. Without him, you have no power over me. Nor have you Belphanes’ Bow to heal your wounds. He cannot be in this house until the lights here are quenched and this house is reunited to its counterpart in the world of dreams. Now I raise my hand. At my signal all my men will assault you in one rush. Perhaps you can kill one or two. You cannot kill all.”
Peter said to Anton; “Shoot him. Shoot him now.”
Azrael raised his hand. He stood on the high balcony bridge, an upright figure in robes of woven stars and constellations. “If I perish, my hand must fall.”
Anton Pendrake spoke. “Is that what you really want, sorcerer? Picture the future where both of us are dead and Acheron rules the world. You lose. Morningstar wins. Is that what you want?” Pendrake’s arm never wavered; the red dot of the aiming laser was steady on Azrael’s chest above his heart, but more drops of Pendrake’s blood pattered to the floor at his feet.
Raven whispered to Lemuel, “Explain this! Where does Azrael know Wendy’s father from?”
Lemuel said, “I don’t think Azrael knows who Pendrake really is. I doubt if Pendrake knows. I heard the voice cry out to me in a dream, and saw the three queens in their barge, rowing the coffin far out to sea …”
“Well? Who is he, then?”
“Don’t you see? The word ‘drake’ is another word for ‘dragon’.”
Raven looked at Wendy across the hall, snuggling against her father for comfort and protection, not against her husband. The impulse to go to her was stifled by two things: the nervous, unarmed soldiers still outnumbered them considerably, and their weapons lay scattered on the floor, close to hand. Raven had seen beasts of prey at bay hesitating between the desire to flee and the desire to kill; any sudden motion might wake the soldiers to the realization that even starting the battle unarmed, they could overcome everyone here.
The second scruple he had was this: Raven said to Lemuel, “We must get Galen out of dream-world. He is alone there, with evil angel Balphagor.”
Lemuel was sweating. “I dare not flip the switch. Azrael is nearly all-powerful in the dream-world …”
Azrael, meanwhile, was saying to Pendrake, “Foolish once not to have joined me when I sent my dreams far-ranging to all those men of greatness and great worth throughout this land. Now foolish twice to spend your life to buy my death! How dare you defy me, mortal man! Even now if you join me, even now, I will forget your presumption and grant you a place of power and preeminence among the lords of the world who will serve the new king when he comes to claim his kingdom!”
“You’re joking. Free men never accept tyrants, Azrael. Certainly we won’t accept Morningstar as this new king of yours. Instead, you should surrender and pay for your crimes.”
“Thrice fool and fool again! Did you actually think I wish to give this green world to Morningstar, the Lord of Fear and Darkness? Once the Key is mine, I will enslave the powers of hell and heaven both! It is the gods who now will pay for their long list of crimes against mankind; rapes, plagues, temptations, curses, tempests! The ghosts of all innocent firstborn children of Egypt slain by Moses’ magic; the world of all those who died in the Great Deluge; the sons of Atlantis; all these and more cry out for vengeance!”
Peter said, “Enough talk! Dad, get ready to throw the switch after I blow away Azzy-boy here. Raven, zap all these guys when the magic turns back on. Any of them who don’t surrender, crisp them on deep-fat fry.”
All the soldiers stiffened, and turned their eyes up toward Azrael. One or two soldiers had stealthily drawn bayonet knives or were beginning slowly to bend down toward their fallen weapons.
Azrael said, “Men! Recall what spells I have put on you! Recall as well the promise made atop the pyramid of skulls we raised inside the solar obelisk you call Washington Monument! We can only seem to die! Whether I stand or fall, fight on! For I shall assist you, even if you do not see me anymore among you!”
“Wait, Mr. Waylock,” said Pendrake. With his left hand, Pendrake drew a small black oblong out from beneath his cloak and, without turning his head, tossed it across the room to Raven. “Mr. Varovitch. Can your control over electricity allow you to duplicate the specific amperage generated by that machine in a field throughout the room? That device emits on the frequency combination that can stimulate the convulsive centers of the nervous system.”
“Don’t know! Will try!” said Raven. Wendy turned her head to look at him when he spoke. It was the first time their eyes had met.
Raven could not read her expression. He said, “Wendy My love, my darling! I am not knowing if you were lying to Azrael when you said you no care if I live or die. And I do not ask you for forgiveness …”
“I should certainly hope not!” she snapped.
Peter raised his rifle toward Azrael. “Are we all going to wait while the two lovebirds make up, or are we going to start shooting?”
Raven said to Wendy, “ … but if I live through this battle, I will tell you the story of how I lost my name when I lost my love. And maybe you will tell me the story of how I get it back again, eh? I know you love happy endings.”
She shouted through her tears, “You’re so silly sometimes! Of course I still love you!”
Peter said, “Well, ain’t that special?” And he fired a burst of rounds into Azrael.
Azrael de Gray, his chest a bloody mess, his skull opened and face caved in, his right arm torn from its socket by the power of the shells ripping through him, was thrown back against the far railing of the balcony, and then slumped forward, falling in a shower of red spray to the carpet of the balcony.
The arm turned over and over as it fell from the balcony to the floor of the great hall. It struck with a dull, wet thud.
The mass of soldiers shouted, and attacked in a huge rush.
A vast sweep of black smoke billowed up out from underneath the hem of Pendrake’s black cloak, and he was lost to sight. There came six whispering hisses of his weapon; the six men closest to reloading their guns were dead.
A soldier shouted, “Hold that switch! Without magic, we got ’em!”
A thrown knife stabbed into Lemuel’s arm before he could pull the switch. He was shocked by the pain. Blindly, he groped for the switch with his other hand, but a soldier tackled him and knocked him from his feet.
The three men jumping Peter were bullet-riddled corpses before their bloody bodies struck him and knocked him from his wheelchair. Next, a booted foot came down on Peter’s gun hand. Peter reached up with his other hand and did something horrible to that man’s groin. The man was writhing on the ground, and Peter raised his gun. Two more men died before he ran out of ammo. The man who stooped over him with a knife had a surprised look in his eyes when Peter broke his wrist, took the knife, and left it in his throat. Another soldier stood back, trying hurriedly to jam a new clip into his gun. Peter opened his belt buckle into a knife and flung it into the man’s forehead. The man’s eyes crossed as blood streamed down his nose and cheeks, almost as if he were looking at the knife quivering in his skull. He fell backward.
Peter had no more weapons at hand. Three more men jumped on him. Several soldiers were shouting, “Hold that switch! Hold that switch!”
The men near Raven apparently had no knives, for they merely tackled him in a mass. To his surprise, these men seemed to have no more strength than children; he broke limbs and snapped spines with ease, crushing skulls with his fingers; then he waded through the packed crowd of soldiers, ignoring those hanging off his arms, pulling along those clinging to his legs, and he came toward the switch one step at a time.
The man clinging to his back made a swift motion. Raven felt a cold sensation across his neck, felt the blood pour out of his neck wound, and spread like a red bib across his shirtfront. He saw his vision dim. The strength left his arms and legs; he fell to his knees, reached over his back, and threw the man who had cut his throat into the wall with enough force to break his ribs and snap his spine.
Then he fell to his face, and he was dying one heartbeat at a time.
More voices took up the cry, “Hold the switch! Hold the switch!”
When a squad of soldiers took out clips, reloaded, and shot into the spreading gas cloud, they did not see Wendy, her arms still tightly wrapped around Pendrake, shoot up out of the top of the cloud, trailing black mists. Pendrake dropped a grenade or three behind him as he left.
Pendrake, swooping upward, held by his straining daughter, pointed his arm toward the switch. There was a dull cough, and a grapnel and wire shot out from his black sleeve, and caught a hook around the switch.
Two soldiers pushed frantically on the switch, keeping it in place, and one slashed at the black metal wire of the grapnel with his knife. The whining motorized reel was only drawing Pendrake down through the air toward the soldiers.
“Hold the switch! Hold the switch!” Nearly all the soldiers were shouting it now; it had become their battle cry.
Meanwhile, another soldier, his elbow around Lemuel’s throat, hauled Lemuel up before him, putting his back to the switch. Pendrake did not have a clear shot. When he raised his weapon, the soldier with the knife yanked on the wire. Pendrake and Wendy swung widely through the air like a drunken kite.
Wendy screamed, “Raven’s dying! We need Galen’s bow!”
Pendrake slapped a quick-release catch and the motorized reel fell away out of its housing. Father and daughter, free of the line, bobbed suddenly up among the rafters.
The soldiers cheered when Pendrake dropped his pistol. “The switch is ours! We held the switch! We’ve won!” Pendrake unscrewed one of the lightbulbs from the ceiling, reached into the socket with a thin metal implement he drew from his belt.
The bulbs flickered as the circuit was shorted, and they all went dark.
The man astride Peter, trying to strangle him, heard his whisper. “Mollner. Waste them.” That was the last thing that man heard.
Raven stood up, huge, massive, blood still spurting from his throat, his face unnaturally calm, throwing the electrocuted and smoking corpses from his arms and shoulders. Sparks flickering in the blood that fell from his body. Lightning streamed from his eyes and mouth, and a ring of lightning flashed out from his body as he spread his arms.
With a great, ragged, roaring gasp, he called out Wendy’s name. The stained-glass windows down the hall shattered, and the hall shook, when the echoes of her name reverberated down from the sky above, louder than any noise of earth.
The stunned and thunderstruck soldiers were falling like limp dolls.