Part 1 (2/2)
”It will be a race,” Miltzin announced. ”The greatest of all time, open to all, its course describing a vast elongated circuit that I myself have plotted. I can hardly begin to express the delight I have taken in this task. Nevenskoi, it will be magnificent! The racers will travel through many lands, over sea, mountain, forest, and other such troublesome terrain, as far as Aveshq and then back again. There is no conceivable inconvenience that they won't encounter. Ha! But it will be tremendous! And that is why I have chosen to name this course I've planned-the Grand Ellipse. Well? What do you think of it?”
”Very fine, Sire.”
”So I believe. I considered calling it 'the Big Oval,' but felt that designation lacked impact.”
”I congratulate Your Majesty upon a wise decision.” Nevenskoi strove to disregard the increasing tumult in his belly. ”No doubt this proposed race will indeed serve many a n.o.ble and useful purpose.”
”The mechanics of transportation, principle and application. Communication, magical and mundane. Progress!”
”Similarly useful, I believe, is the discovery that I myself have recently-”
”Oh, yes, I remember.” Miltzin returned reluctantly to the present. ”Some sort of fire display, wasn't it? Well, I don't know that I really have the time for such things, when there are matters of infinitely greater-oh, very well, Nevenskoi. I can't stand it when you sulk. I'll view your little pyrotechnics. Try to keep it brief.”
”As you wish, Sire.” He'd had a speech prepared, but he dispensed with it now, for Mad Miltzin's gra.s.shopper eyes were wandering. Nevenskoi stepped to the pit-of-elements at the center of the room, where the prepared materials were already a.s.sembled. He wasted no time upon the theatrical posturings and declamation that ignorant spectators expected of a sorcerous adept. Rather, he used his mind as he had spent a lifetime learning to use it. He stood quite still, his eyes shut. His almost imperceptible gestures and almost inaudible utterances were the minimum required to facilitate concentration of his intellect. The coals smoldering at the pit of his stomach faded from existence. For a time he lost awareness of his immediate surroundings, for his thoughts were winging along paths unknown to all but the select sorcerous few, and his consciousness was striving toward another plane, a place intensely alien, never to be comprehended or mastered, yet familiar to him.
He had it. He was there. The mental explosion sent the arcane power surging through him. Nitz Neeper, known as Nevenskoi, opened his eyes and bent that potency upon the pit-of-elements, where the a.s.sembled preparations burst into flame that burned jealousy-green.
Heat, light, emotion, and simple awareness radiated from the fire.
Hungry. Hungry. HUNGRY!
The elemental urgency burned in Nevenskoi's brain. The innocent greed and fierce desire of his creation blended with his own thoughts; heated, colored, and all but overwhelmed them.
Food! Freedom! Now! NOW!
The psychic demands battered, but Nevenskoi stood firm and presently the fire acknowledged his mastery.
Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!
Soon, he responded in silence. If you are good. If you are good.
Gimmegimmegimme!
Quiet. Wait. Nevenskoi turned to his sovereign, who sat watching in tolerant silence, and announced, ”Sire, the fire is conscious.” Nevenskoi turned to his sovereign, who sat watching in tolerant silence, and announced, ”Sire, the fire is conscious.”
”And decidedly green,” observed Mad Miltzin. ”I've never seen green flames before. That's quite picturesque. Are we finished yet?”
”No. Remain seated and attentive,” Nevenskoi instructed, and saw the other's brows lift at the tone of authority. Directing his thoughts inward to touch the wild, ardent consciousness impinging upon his own, he issued commands, spoken aloud for the benefit of his audience.
”Detach yourself from your present source of fuel-”
NO! NO!.
”-complete a circuit of this chamber, consuming nothing, and then return.”
Instantly, a whirling ma.s.s of green flame leapt from the pit-of-elements, circled the workroom at blazing speed, then rushed for the pit and the heap of chemically fortified f.a.ggots.
Nevenskoi controlled the natural rush of satisfaction that might have rocked his concentration. His eyes sought the king.
Mad Miltzin was sitting bolt upright in his chair. His forbearing expression had given way to a look of undisguised amazement.
Excellent. Again Nevenskoi addressed himself to the flames. ”Nourish yourself and stand tall.”
A blazing column thrust for the vaulted ceiling, high overhead.
A startled squeak escaped Miltzin IX.
”Now subside,” commanded Nevenskoi. ”Abandon your fuel-”
No! No! Hungry! No!
”-detach yourself momentarily and reduce yourself to the smallest spark-”
Nononopleasenopleasenononopleasenono- Come, my darling beauty, he cajoled silently, I will reward you. I will reward you.
Promise?
Upon my hope of glory. Such concessions were unnecessary, for he was surely master, but Nevenskoi found he could not resist. Such concessions were unnecessary, for he was surely master, but Nevenskoi found he could not resist.
At once the great green pillar contracted, dwindling swiftly to a tiny spark, all but invisible.
”Oh,” breathed Miltzin IX.
Thanks, my lovely, you will not be sorry, silently spoke Nevenskoi. Aloud, he commanded, ”Resume your original stature, split yourself in equal parts, and dance a Linniana.”
The green flames complied. The mutable radiant partners twirled, and the king gaped.
”And now,” Nevenskoi whispered, ”come to me. Come to me, my sweet one. Consume nothing, but let us be near-let us join.”
The flames embraced and engulfed him. He stood at the heart of a roaring conflagration. The fire was around and within him, filling his nose and mouth, plunging down into his lungs, but it did not hurt him, never would, for its mind vibrated in tune with his own, and he could feel the furious affection, the hunger and need, that made him one with his creation. His heart throbbed and a wild joy surged through him, a l.u.s.t to consume and devour- Through the leaping curtain of green he could see Mad Miltzin rising from his chair, waving his arms and flapping his jaw, apparently shouting, but the words were unimportant. The king's pomaded curls and greying walrus moustache would ignite gorgeously. The metallic braid glinting upon His Majesty's quasi-military tunic would melt and run, a veritable river of gold.... And when he'd eaten the king, there remained the shelves of sorcerous supplies, the furnis.h.i.+ngs, and the hangings. Delicious.
Nevenskoi's arms, wreathed in flame, rose of their own accord. He took a single step toward Miltzin IX, and halted himself with an effort.
No. He strained his will, and his humanity rea.s.serted itself.
”Enough,” he whispered reluctantly, and the fire tingled across his moving lips. ”Back to your fuel, and refresh yourself as you will.”
A final painlessly fierce embrace, then the green flames roared off for the pit-of-elements. Physical separation greatly reduced the intensity of the mental connection, leaving Nevenskoi at once relieved and achingly bereft.
Beautiful, he remarked in silence. Perfect. Perfect.
From the pit came the crackling contented reply.
EatEatEatEatEatEatEatEatEatEatEatEatEatEat.
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