Season of Passage, The (52 page)

'No.'

'Mars has done this to you, but you can fight it.'

'No.'

'You're Gary Wheeler,' she said. 'You're a human being.'

'Shut up!' He whirled and slapped her face viciously. 'Your friend's gone. You can't bring him back. It was you who murdered him, bitch!'

The anger gave her reason to hope. Anything was better than his Ivan Zossima grin. 'I didn't know the wine was contaminated,' she said. 'I was

trying to help you. You were dying of dehydration. I would have done anything to save you. I love you, Gary.'

'You can't love me!' His face swung from extremes of hatred and confusion. 'You deserted him. You cast him out. You left him to do this thing.'

'I never left you, Gary. You have to remember! Remember Jim. Remember how he loved you, how you loved him.' She couldn't stop crying.

'Remember how you felt when Mars kil ed him.'

'No!' he shouted. He panted as if he was straining to catch his breath. He was obviously in the grip of an intense internal battle. He tried again to

wipe her tears from the back of his hand. 'This is a trick. Jim was a fool! He's gone while I survive!'

'They've lied to you. They promise you immortality, but they just kil you and make you walk around dead. Listen to me, Gary, you have to listen to

me.'

In her heart, though, Lauren did not believe he could listen to her, not now. Once more she took hold of the scalpel in her right hand, hidden behind

her leg. It was then she decided definitely to use the knife, as soon as he moved a tiny bit closer, a foot even.

'Lori,' he gasped. He sagged against her hibernaculum. His eyes were no longer blank, but fil ed with a great weariness. 'I want to breathe, Lori. I

can't breathe. They won't let me breathe.'

'I can help you, Gary.'

'You can?' he asked pitiful y.

'Yes,' she whispered. 'Listen closely, I'l tel you what to do.'

He leaned that one foot closer.

The Antabolene had greatly inhibited her reflexes. The paralysis was similar to the slowness produced by deep sleep, only to a much greater

degree. It could, however, be largely overcome by extreme concentration and effort.

Lauren jerked her arm up through a curved arc aimed directly at his throat. Unfortunately, in her fright, she had forgotten the two plastic tubes that

led into her artery shunt. Her attack was interrupted when she cut one of the tubes. Warm blood squirted over her bel y and dripped into her crotch.

Gary's expression changed from one of profound anguish to one of ravished hunger. His eyes focused on the blood. Lauren took advantage of the

distraction to swipe again at him with the scalpel. The tip of the blade was almost to his throat when...

A cold vise of inhuman strength clamped onto her wrist.

He squeezed her wrist. A bone cracked.

The scalpel fel to the floor.

'No!' she squealed in pain.

Empty eyes, empty even of hatred, beheld her.

'Tel me how much you love me.' He tightened his grip. The pain was overwhelming. 'Tel me.'

'Please,' she whimpered.

To her surprise, he reduced the pressure. The holes in his head that were his eyes had fastened on the silver ring she wore on the middle finger of

her right hand. A sneer touched his lifeless lips. It touched them, but they did not feel it. Al feeling had left him. Gary was gone, gone for good.

'So you think to align yourself with her protection,' he said flatly. 'It's too late for that. You are like Janier. You are a coward. You would have fared

better slitting your own throat.'

He threw her broken wrist aside, making no attempt to remove the ring. The shiny silver band was lost beneath the blood that continued to spil from

the sliced tube. Cold despair fil ed her heart. He was right, she realized. She should have died. There are worse things.

Yet she stil had no idea how much worse.

He raised the glass of wine. 'You have made your decision, harlot. You lied and reached for the knife. Your faith is hol ow as your soul wil be.' He

smiled thinly. 'I was listening when Mark told you how she kil ed herself. It is ironic, it is appropriate. We are only actors fulfil ing our roles. But she

was no actor. Only when you walk through the endless night wil you understand who she was. But then, it wil be too late.'

He tilted the glass.

'Jenny!' Lauren cried. 'Help me!'

But her cry drowned in agony. The poison fel onto her body and it was as if a wave of parasitic worms had taken hold of her. They fil ed her pores

and dug under her skin and fed on her organs. The wine burned, yet it sent a chil into her bones that no prayer to God could ever warm. Her shorts

were torn away, and in the middle of the spil ing blood and the torturous wine, the beast crawled on top of her.

Then the lump began to form inside, and it, too, was cold - cold and sharp, like a sword that had been tempered in a world that had seen a mil ion

blistering years of ice and not one soothing day of fire. It stabbed al the way inside her.

Lauren began to choke, to smother. She gasped upon air that no longer fed life into her blood. Her blood turned to

ice and the last breath of air left her body. Her heart stopped.

Then Lauren Wagner died.

But the agony did not cease.

BOOK FIVE

The Harlot

THIRTY-FOUR

Excerpts from Jennifer Wagner's Story

As light fil ed the eastern sky, Chaneen stood from her meditations. At her feet was the pool of water. The reflecting stars faded as the gods

departed. She was alone now. Janier was dead, and the way in which she had died had placed a terrible curse over the future of the children. Even

their present existence was stil in danger. Chaneen prayed she would be forgiven for what she had to do next.

She left the pool and walked through the long silent hal s of her palace. On the way she passed Pastel, the blind minstrel. He sat fast asleep with his

back to a pil ar. Chaneen was tempted to wake him, and speak with him about what was happening. But she left him sleeping. He would know soon

enough.

Chaneen strode from the palace and into the forest. The trees and flowers swayed near as she walked by. But her thoughts were turned away from

the Garden. She could no longer enjoy its beauty, now that it was close to ending. Soon the leaves on the branches would be left to die, and the

flowers would crumble into the dust.

At the top of the hil s that separated the Garden from the ocean, Chaneen turned and gazed westward, toward the mountains and the desert

beyond, in the direction in which the Asurians had attacked. Much of that land was now ruined, scorched black from the fires Janier had unleashed,

stained with the blood of many warriors. Chaneen knew that in time to come those lands would remain barren. Yet how smal

was the damage Janier had wrought, she thought, compared to what she would now do to Asure.

Close to sunrise found Chaneen on the sandy beach that lay between the hil s and the ocean. There she walked with the memory of Rankar walking

by her side, the waves splashing her bare feet. Looking across the sea, she could see the great continents of land that would one day rise from the

depths of the water, land her children would one day live upon. Even without the curse, she knew their trials would be great.

Chaneen sighed. The time had come.

As the sun peeked over the edge of her world, Chaneen closed her eyes and raised her arms out from her sides. She held her robe open, and like

a net from the gods, it caught the radiance and channeled it into her body. Slowly her physical form began to dissolve, expanding over the gentle

wave that was the sun's rays. Easily, she al owed herself to be blown into the void, through the vast dark space where the stars shone forever, until

at last she came to Asure. By this time her form was huge, dwarfing even that of the Fire Messenger. Indeed, she could blot out Kratine's entire

kingdom merely by raising her arm. But for a long time she drifted above the world, feeling pain that she would be the cause of such great

destruction. However, she remembered the god's command, and the anguish of her sister's torment. What she would do next was necessary.

It was during their last night together that Rankar had revealed the power she would now use. No longer was she simply going to invoke the Fire

Messenger. Kratine had violated the natural order. His lands would burn. She was going to cal upon the sun itself.

Chaneen raised her hand and set her intention in motion. The entire al iance of the gods stood nearby in support. A great and fearful flame leapt

from the surface of the Sun. It stormed across the abyss, passing through her nebulous body, and struck Asure. The destruction was accomplished

in a moment, the planet was ruined. Now Asure was burned red, and its air was gone. The Asurians were al dead. She knew that nothing would

ever grow there again, and it made her sad.

Yet there was one place that had escaped the wrath of the Sun, a place

far underground, in the cavern where Janier had been raped. In that hideous place, she knew Kratine waited for her.

Chaneen al owed her etheric body to sink beneath the burning surface of Asure. It was only when she stood upon Kratine's black altar that she took

up her physical form.

He sat alone on his black throne, his jeweled crown weighing heavily on his false human head. Over his shoulders he wore a purple cloak. A gold

girdle covered his midsection. He smiled as she materialized beside the pit where her sister had been drowned. Then he stood and approached,

bowing low at her feet.

I see you brought the fire,' he said reverently. 'The heart of the worlds. I am honored by your visit, Chaneen.'

She silently indicated he should stand. When their eyes met, he flinched, and spoke hastily, 'But you stand in my land now, Queen, where I cannot

be threatened.'

'Have I ever threatened you, Kratine?' she asked.

'Yes. You have destroyed my world.'

'Your land is dead, 'she agreed. 'But that was your doing, not mine.'

Kratine did not understand. For al his cleverness, he was remarkably blind. 'I knew when I met you in your palace that you were a worthy adversary.

But I am at a loss as to why you didn't invoke your ful power earlier?'

'For what purpose?'

'To destroy us, of course.'

Chaneen turned away from him and stepped to the edge of the molten pool where even now she could feel how the spirit of her sister continued in

torment.

' That was never my purpose, Kratine,' she said softly.

He smiled at her back, his arrogance returning. 'Your warriors are al dead.' He moved a step closer. He wanted to shove her in, but he knew she

would strike him down first. 'You hesitated, Chaneen. You underestimated the boldness of my attack.'

Chaneen faced him. 'The boldness of your attack brought the fire down upon your world, where it otherwise would never have come. I am a

guardian of the natural order. I did not want to ruin jour lands. This power that you admire in me was thrust upon me. I did not wish for it. But I did not

come here to speak to you of powers and battles. They are done with. I have come to make you answer for Janier.'

He was wary. 'What do you want?'

'The truth. Why did you do al these things to us?'

He stood erect, proud. I wil not tel you.'

Her eyes kindled. 'Speak!'

Kratine cowered. 'Very wel . The truth wil be of no help to you since the curse cannot be undone. Actual y, I am happy to tel you about my wonderful

designs.' His smile returned. 'You know of our first war, long ago. You understand why I started it. My land is old and dying, I wanted yours. I desired

to replant my civilization and al ow it to grow, until it matched our glorious past, a time I remember wel . I sent my warriors against your warriors. I

even went myself to lead my army. We won many glorious battles against your people. But on the verge of victory your king invoked the Fire

Messenger and ruined my plans. I retreated to my world, and contemplated long and deep what this defeat meant.

'It was during this time I came to understand that it wasn't our world alone that was responsible for our decline. My race was too old. I could feel the

age in my own blood, and it troubled me. I asked myself, how can the old regain their youth? At first it did not seem possible. I pondered long upon

the dilemma, and cal ed on the gods respectful to Asure for assistance. In time the answer came to me.

'I wil not offend your delicate nature by going into al the details. Granted that the difference in our bodies - as Rankar mentioned- was the greatest

obstacle. Yet I believed that if I could experiment with a male and female of your children, I could bring my seed to life in the female. I could weave a

spel that would change the very nature of the female. She would be mine, and I would return her to your Garden, where she would feed upon the

blood of the Sastra, even as they slept, and make more of her own kind. In this way my wil would enter into your children. They would be mine, not

yours. I would live through them. I would be young, while you were dead. And you would not be able to stop me once I got started, for you would have

to kil too many of your children, and that was one thing I knew neither Rankar or you would ever do. Such was my plan, Chaneen. What do you

think?' 'Need I remind you that it failed?'

Kratine gloated. 'Has it?'

'Rankar was suspicious of your offer.'

'Your King -1 slew him!'

'lam not Janier. You cannot lie to me without my knowing. If you'd had ten times your power, you could not have slain my husband.' She pointed to