The Three Furies (Erec Rex) (5 page)

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immense. Solid gold, it must have been fifteen feet high, studded with gems. Pearl inlays and carvings decorated the sides and back in what looked like strange languages, and a huge diamond, the size of a bicycle wheel, was embedded in the center of its high back.

A big, rough stone, the Lia Fail, sat at the base of the throne. This magical chunk of rock was said to scream in the presence of the true king during a coronation. Erec, in fact, had seen it happen. During a coronation ceremony, the thing had once screamed for him.

Chains hung loosely around the king, holding him in his seat. His hair had grown a pale yellow, and his skin hung loose off of his frame. The king looked so sickly and frail that Erec almost didn't recognize him. Distracted, he stared in wonder at something in the long arm of the chair. Erec saw the king's scepter there, resting in a slot that had been created for it. The chains held King Piter's arms back from the scepter, just allowing one of his fingers to graze against its edge.

For a moment, Erec forgot all about the king. His entire being was drawn to the scepter. Its ornate gems and patterned, carved gold called to him, waking all of his old desires for it. The scepter's powerful magic had felt so amazing when he had used it before. It had sent jolts of electricity and power through him, leaving him with deep cravings for that feeling to happen again. His mouth watered, looking at the thing. It did not help that it was
his
now, officially.

Erec walked slowly toward the scepter, reaching out for it. His need for the thing seemed to grow the closer he got to it. He was silly to have left it here. King Piter had insisted that he guard the scepter for Erec, that Erec was not yet ready to use it. But that was just silly. He would be
fine
feeling its power again. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced. It gave him the strength and purpose he needed.

Chains were around the king's arms . . . maybe they would keep

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him from grabbing the scepter before Erec could. In a moment Erec trembled with excitement and hope. He could take the scepter now--just reach for it and snatch it--and the king wouldn't be able to stop him!

He was breathing faster. But then he looked at his father's glazed eyes and a chill raced through him. Was that what Erec looked like now? Haunted, possessed by this magic, ready to do anything for it?

Erec took a breath. A small voice in his mind reminded him that his father was right. He wasn't ready. The scepter haunted him, filling his days with longing and his nights with vivid dreams. It didn't matter if he told himself that he would use it only for good, to help right the wrongs of the world. Deep inside he knew what would happen if it was his. His own dreams had showed him. He would only crave more and more power. There was no way he would be able to resist its pull.

He forced himself to step back away from it. Why was he here? He was confused now . . . Bethany! How could he have been so distracted by the scepter that he could forget her? The idea made him sick, and he backed away from it more.

"Dad? How are you doing? Dad . . . ? Hey, it's me, Erec."

The king's eyes were glazed. He ran his finger along the gold scepter as though he hadn't heard a thing. Erec noticed how thin and sickly he looked.

Erec spoke louder. "Dad? King Piter?"

Erec touched his father's shoulder. There was still no response, so he shook the king. "Are you okay? What's going on with those chains?"

King Piter startled a bit, then turned toward Erec. Recognition lit his face and he sighed. "Erec. You're back." He shrugged in embarrassment. "It's easier for me with these chains here. I can take them off if I need to. They're just a . . . reminder to hold back." He cleared his throat, looking awkward. "How was your trip home?"

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"Fine. Dad, Bethany is--" Erec's throat tightened and he could not speak. Those words could not be said, or they would make her danger more real somehow. Everything might shatter around those words.

The king's forehead wrinkled with concern. "What's wrong with Bethany? Can I help?" But then he looked back at his scepter and immediately was lost.

Erec could not imagine how hard this must be for his father. If Erec had been near the scepter for more than a month, like the king had, he would never have kept himself away from it. No, he would have become a power-mad psycho trying to rule the world with it.

For a moment everything seemed to glimmer. Erec felt his knees buckle. This was all his fault. The king
used
to be able to use his scepter with no problem at all. The power of his castle had given him that stregnth. Erec had ruined that. He had found out, against the king's wishes, that King Piter was his father. Which led to the castle being destroyed. Worse yet, the king himself was destroyed.

He had wrecked his own father.

And now he had let his best friend die.

Erec felt like falling through the floor and never seeing anyone again, never doing more harm . . . but he couldn't even do that. If only the scepter was gone . . . That horrid thing had brought out the worst in him, and now it was doing the same to his father. He grabbed it to fling it anywhere, through a window, wish it to explode and never come back.

But the second the warm gold was in his hand, everything changed. Calmness filled him, and control. It was all okay. He would help his father get better. He could make everything better. With this power there was nothing that would stop him.

In the distance he heard "Erec,
no.
" And a second later the scepter was knocked from his hands.

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With tremendous effort, King Piter pushed the thing away from both of them.

"You aren't ready." He panted, hair drooping into his face. "Please, Erec. Please. Just leave it here with me. It's all I can stand to be with it now, not using it. But I've gotten good at it. You see I just sit here and look . . ." His voice trailed away as he stooped down and gazed into the scepter on the ground. He sighed deeply. "Without my castle to protect me, I can actually see it more clearly now. It's dizzying." He looked at Erec pleadingly. "I don't think either of us should touch it. It's best we leave it where it is."

Erec looked at his hands in shock. The moment he touched the scepter it had changed his mind completely. He had been determined to get rid of it. But it felt so good in his hands. . . .

Erec grabbed the king's shoulder and told him everything that had happened.

King Piter's weak eyes widened and he looked like he might faint. "I . . . I didn't even know she was gone. Erec, I should have been there with her. I don't even know when I saw her last. I've been . . ."

Erec knew what the king had been doing. He'd been sitting here entranced by the scepter. Erec sat next to him on the ground. "It's my fault, Dad. I wasn't there for her."

Of course. It was so obvious, and it was right there in front of them. He pointed at the scepter. "Could that bring Bethany back?"

The king sniffed, voice hoarse. "It's possible. If she's still . . ." He looked at Erec, wary, as if afraid of what might be said next.

On cue, Erec said, "Well, then, could you bring her body back, if she didn't make it? We can bury her." He felt sick thinking about it.

King Piter nodded. "Yes, but . . . I'm afraid. If I use it one more time, I'll be gone, I think."

"Have you been using it, then, since I left?" Erec was afraid to hear the answer.

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The king nodded. "Just little bits. It's so hard to resist." He stared at it. "I suppose it is for the best, though, using it one more time. Right? It is for Bethany." His eyes hardened as he reached for the scepter.

As the king closed his eyes, Erec could feel a surge in the room. The king's lids flashed open, wide. "She's alive. I'm bringing her back."

Erec jumped to his feet. Alive? Baskania let her live this long? It seemed impossible.

King Piter's hands shook on the scepter. They looked bonier than Erec remembered. Flashes appeared in the room in front of them, sparkling like a thousand tiny stars. Erec bit his lip.
Please let Bethany be okay. Please let her come back.

Something glimmered in the room. It formed into a shape, and then an image of Bethany appeared before them. She didn't look solid, though, more like a ghost. Erec could see a stained glass window right through her. Something odd and shiny was around her head, like small metal funnels coming from her scalp. She was sitting on a wooden chair, her arms chained down to it at her sides, and she was looking around in surprise.

Erec could see a glimpse of what looked like a desk in front of her and some books. Her feet were chained to something too, but he could not see what. When Bethany looked at him, her eyes bugged out as if she were seeing a ghost as well. She was talking. . . . It looked like she was calling to him, but he could not hear a word.

The king shook, straining from the effort of trying to save her. Then his breath caught, and her image vanished. The scepter fell from his hand. "I couldn't do it. Baskania has a Draw on her. That's how he must have captured her." He hung his head. "I don't know how he got such a thing.
Something
needs to be explained here."

Erec was confused. "What's a Draw?"

"Baskania fixed it so nobody can save Bethany. A Draw is an

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earth enchantment that cannot be removed by any magic. But the odd thing is that there are no Draws in our world. There is no way Baskania could have attained one, unless . . ." He rubbed his head, stunned. "I shudder to think how he got it."

"Where do Draws come from?"

"Tartarus. The only living beings who possess Draws are the three Furies that live there. And they don't just hand them out to people."

"Wait a minute." Erec wasn't sure whether to be celebrating that Bethany was okay or losing all hope again. "What are the Furies? What is Tartarus?"

The king started to gaze at the scepter again, but Erec pulled him around to face the other way. "Ever since the dawn of time, six powerful sisters have helped weave the fabric of our universe. Two sets of triplets. Like all siblings, there were rivalries, jealousies. The older sisters, Decima, Nona, and Morta, became who you now know as the three Fates. As you are aware, they are kind, just, and very wise. But they are no-nonsense, too. They like things to follow rules, orders. Life goes according to plan under their watch. Everyone has a chance, gets a choice.

"Their younger sisters were a little different from them. If the cup was half full for the older triplets, it was half empty for Alecto, Tisiphone, and Megaera. Those three have been angry since birth. They wanted the same powers that their older sisters had. And when they realized that they could never be as strong, would never have the responsibilities, they instead set about destroying things. Their actions earned them the name the three Furies, for they were truly terrifying and ferocious.

"At first the Fates tried to put the Furies to work for them, harnessing their natural aggression for good. The Furies became the police of humanity, judging individuals and punishing those who

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were not pure of heart. But this quickly became a problem. The Furies were not fair in their judgments, and they were very harsh. They enjoyed causing trouble even more than scaring people with their violent ways.

"In the end, the only way to save humankind was for the Fates to lock their sisters into a prison land called Tartarus. It is deep within the earth, far below Aorth. There is only one way in and out, and that is at the base of the Nether Volcano, past the Waters of Oblivion. Some of the creatures that live in Tartarus can pass freely back and forth through its entrance. But the Furies are stuck there, and they cannot exert their powers on humanity from inside.

"They say that there is only one way that the Furies will ever escape. If each of the Furies is able to collect a thousand human souls in Tartarus, they may be able to split themselves into these souls, leave their prison in tiny fragments, and reassemble themselves outside again. Of course, if that ever did happen, eternal chaos would be the best we could hope for. With the eons of anger those three have built up, not even the Fates may be able to save themselves from their wrath.

"That is why the Furies use Draws. Only they know how to make them. Once a Draw is set on someone, they will come to you, no matter what. And once they come, they will stay with you. That is their only way to draw humans into Tartarus--their only hope for eventual escape." He rubbed his head. "I don't know what Thanatos Baskania is getting himself into here. If he's dealing with the Furies now, we're all done for."

"And the scepter can't overpower the Draws?"

"The scepter is powerless against the Furies, the Fates, and the deep magic of the universe. But Baskania is defenseless against these things as well. He must think he is far beyond human if he's trying to deal with them. It's ridiculous."

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They sat in silence awhile. Then Erec asked, "If the Furies can pull humans into Tartarus with their Draws, won't they be able to get three thousand souls soon?"

"Luckily, no," the king said. "In order to place a Draw on someone, they would have to see them directly. Any unfortunate person wandering within sight of the entrance to Tartarus would have a Draw placed on them right away. But this is the first time I have ever heard of a human owning or using one."

Erec still could not believe their bad luck. "Are you sure that is what Baskania used on Bethany?"

The king nodded. "The scepter confirmed it."

Reality started to sink in. "So
nothing
can get rid of a Draw?"

"Not when the Furies use one." The king looked thoughtful. "But we should talk to the Fates and see what they say. Baskania's Draw may not be as strong."

Erec jumped up. "Let's go to the Oracle now and ask them. We can't afford to wait any longer. Something terrible could happen to Bethany."

The king glanced back at the scepter, shaking. He didn't say anything, but Erec could see the longing in his face. His father must not think he could walk away from it . . . or pick it up.

This was ridiculous. They couldn't just sit around and wait. Erec would wish the scepter away, make it disappear. He dove upon it so quickly that the king could not grab it out of his way.

But the minute he touched it, he lost all his willpower to get rid of it. He could do anything with it. The scepter was the solution, not the problem.

Then a voice spoke to him, from the scepter itself. "I can help you, you know. That's what I'm here for, mate. Just use me as you will. We'll make it all better. What can I do for you, now?"

Erec relaxed. It
was
okay. The scepter could save Bethany--