Part 25 (1/2)

'Don't worry,' he says. 'I remember the palace. I shall not allow its like again.'

He feels the power, the new thing, coursing through him, ready for him to use. He is the book of spells, the grimoire.

Now all he needs is the sorcerer. 'Command me, Magus,' he says, noting how Neville visibly relaxes at these words. 'I can do anything.'

The Magus looks around, licking his lips. He is still unsure.

Huvan can see his beating heart thumping faster, the glands in his face increasing their sweaty output.

'We must release the Dark One,' Neville says hesitantly.

'In time. Command me now.' Huvan starts to feel impatient.

'I want to show off.'

'Huvan,' says Romana, 'these impulses you feel. Fight them, for they control you, not you them.'

'Quiet!' Neville barks, hysteria mounting. Huvan listens with detached amus.e.m.e.nt.

'Order me, Magus, I am yours,' he says. 'For you gave me this power. What is it you wish to know?'

The magus licks his lips. 'Tell me something, my boy. For my life, my whole life, I have searched for Valdemar. Am I worthy? Will I be the one to reawaken him?'

Huvan smiles. He looks at Romana's worried, mortal face, seeing the alienness in her. He looks back at the magus.

Images flood his mind, at his summons. Nothing is hidden from him. 'Of course you will,' he says. 'Is that all you wanted to know?'

The Magus breathes out. Tears well from his eyes. He sobs, a lifetime's tears pouring out of him. 'Thank you. Praise to the Dark One.'

'What about the Doctor?' Romana asks softly. 'Is he truly dead?'

A surge of irritation. This Doctor, always this Doctor. You are mine, Romana, there is no room for another. Of course he is dead.

The words spring to Huvan's mouth but something is wrong, something blurs his thoughts. For the first time, there is something that is not of him.

Huvan tries to clear the image in his mind. He sees this Doctor, as he was. In the palace, a past event, with Pelham.

They are snapping open a gla.s.s vial he knows of old... then oddly, they pa.s.s beyond his knowledge. Yes, he is gone... but dead?

A pain enters his new mind. A stinging. He can't think about this.

'Forget the Doctor. There is no Doctor.'

Romana slumps back into the padded seat. She too begins to fill with emotion.

'Then,' she says to herself, 'then we actually fail...'

'No, Romana. You will live for ever. With me.'

She s.h.i.+vers, inexplicably as far as he is concerned, and turns upon him a gaze that pierces his new self-confidence.

Contained in that gaze, there is nothing but pity. She should be triumphant for what he has become. Not pity, not that.

'You poor boy,' she says sadly. 'Neville never gave you a chance.'

'A chance?'

'To grow up.'

Somewhere, deep inside himself, he remembers who he is.

The boy he once was, before the experiments and the drugs.

Just a flash, a quick memory of a time simple and uncomplicated. A time when he was happy. The simplicity of that memory throws him off balance. The power does not flow strongly. Its smooth circulation through him shudders and stutters.

The bathyscape jerks suddenly. Its swing is not as wild as it was. The tomb has taken control of the tiny craft once more. Huvan sees that the Magus has hardly noticed. He has his face in his hands, tears running through his fingers. 'Do not weep, Magus,' he says to him. 'There is still much to be done.'

Romana stares at him, as if looking through him. He finds he cannot bear her gaze. How he loves her. She will be his.

'Avert your eyes, Romana,' he says. 'Lest I remove them for you.'

A shadow's line rises through the porthole. They are descending into the pyramid itself. He feels the source of his power close now, almost awake. The dreamer behind the gateway is shuffling in its sleep. Neville has taught him true; Valdemar is great and good and needs him. Soon they will soar through the universe once more, flying on great wings through the cold blackness. The power he has now is nothing, unbelievably there is still more to be his.

'You must remember who you are, Huvan. Keep your individuality or you will be destroyed. What Neville has promised you is a lie. You know this.' Romana speaks softly, insidiously.

'No!' And Neville has leapt to his feet, eyes wet with joy. 'No, Huvan. Together, everything will be ours, all power. All!'

The bathyscape settles with a b.u.mp. And a new insight is gained. Huvan sees the palace, sees what will happen there, is happening there. Fear an emotion he thought he had left behind. The one being still capable of harming him, the phantom he has feared since he could understand it. 'We are betrayed,' he whispers.

'What?' Neville, caught in mid-flow.

Again, the smooth rhythm inside Huvan is interrupted. He starts to tremble, clutching at the Magus's ringed hands. ' He He is here!' is here!'

'Who is here?' asks Romana.

'Nemesis! The Finder.'

Neville clasps his hands, tightly. 'Hopkins? Impossible.'

'I can see his angry face, his skin without hair, his flaming sword. He knows of the palace, knows we are here.'

'How? Nothing was left to chance.'

Huvan grasps the Magus's hands, unable to stem the flow of images in his mind. 'He wants us, wants us... help me, I don't know what to do.'

'Destroy him, Huvan,' The Magus is feverish, the black marks of Valdemar clearly visible round his eyes. 'Kill them all!'