Part 29 (1/2)

A whinny, and Karthin was unhorsed. He fell heavily on the steps, and the hounds closed in. Marrha cried out and plunged straight for him through the thick of the beasts; but the big man rose, eyed his attackers, and calmly, methodically, cut one to pieces while his huge fist smashed the face of another into a ruin of phosphor and brains.

His hand smoked as the flesh began to dissolve. He examined it, shrugged, and dealt similarly with another hound.

But above the clatter of hooves and the demented chorus of the hounds, Alouzon heard a steady, rhythmic beating, felt a turgid pulsation in the air. At first, she thought it was a police helicopter-and indeed, looking up, she saw approaching strobe and search lights-but as the beating and pulsation increased, she recognized them for what they really were: the flap of immense wings.

With a scream, a huge white head suddenly reared up above Haines Hall, and pallid wings lofted the White Worm over the rooftops. Astride it, carrying a parody Dragonsword in its hand like the severed head of a defeated enemy, was the Specter.

The hounds broke off their attack and retreated. Whining, frightened, they rolled on their backs and pawed at the air submissively as their master approached; and when a quick hand signal from Marrha regrouped the First and Second Wartroops and sent them cantering towards the steps of the hall, Kyria saw her chance. While the hounds lay open and exposed, she blanketed the lawn with a wave of incandescence that turned them to cinders in a heartbeat.

The Worm screamed at the sight, its talons clawing at the roof of Haines Hall. Marrha reached the landing halfway up the steps, and Alouzon grabbed her hand. ”This is going to be tight,” she said. ”Get everyone up the stairs and through the pa.s.sage. You'll have to make it all the way to Gryylth before the sun rises here, and you've only got a few minutes.”

Marrha sent the men and women ahead, and Santhe took over the command, leading the warriors and horses through the door of the hall. At- a touch from Kyria, the phosphor vanished from Karthin's hand and arm. He bowed to her, grabbed the bridle of his horse, and led it away. But he stopped at the top of the steps, waiting. He would not desert his wife.

Marrha had stayed at Alouzon's side. For a moment, she glared defiantly at the Specter, then turned to Alouzon. ”And what about you, my friend?”

”I've . . .” This was it. She could not escape this final confrontation. ”I've got things to do here. You'll have to go on without me.”

Marrha's voice shook. Alouzon heard anger and fear both. ”My friend Alouzon . . .” said the captain. ”I . . .”

”Goon.”

The Worm had spread its wings and gained alt.i.tude, and now it stooped towards the figures on the steps. A bolt from Kyria smashed it back into the air, and its wings flailed as it fought for balance.

Alouzon leaned out from Jia's back, opened her arms, and hugged the captain. ”Marrha,” she choked, ”this is goodbye.”

”I will stay and fight with you, Alouzon. Karthin too.”

The Worm righted itself and hung, hovering. The Specter lifted its sword, and a distant howling drifted over the campus, mingling with the wail of approaching police sirens. The helicopters circled, searchlights stabbing down at the field. The dawn was brightening, the sun nearing the rim of the world.

”You can't do anything,” said Alouzon. ”I have to do this myself.'' She was shaking with terror, but she hugged Marrha all the tighter and hoped that the captain would not notice. ”I'll get the Specter out of here. You get everyone through, and you tell Wykla I love her and that she made the right choice. But I have to go now. I might live through this, and if I do, I'll be around. I'll always be around. But you probably still won't see me again.”

Understanding suddenly dawned on Marrha, and she stared into Alouzon's face.

”It's true, Marrha.” Alouzon choked out the words. ”I'm Her.”

”My G.o.ddess!”

Alouzon kissed her. ”I love you, Marrha. Now go on. Take off.”

Marrha gave Alouzon a last hug, backed her horse, and lifted her sword in salute. ”Do what you must, my friend,” she said, her face radiant. ”And never forget that Your children love You.'' And with that she turned her horse and galloped up the steps. Karthin swung into the saddle at her approach, and he followed her into the building, dipping his head slightly to clear the top of the door. Alouzon heard the clatter of hooves on the inner stairs.

The howls continued. A surging luminescence appeared in the darkness of d.i.c.kson Court.

Kyria spoke suddenly, dropping her arm. ”Solomon.” Her tone was calm, almost loving.

The Specter's head snapped up, its empty glare swinging about like the helicopter searchlights. The” luminescence faded, as did the howls. ”You again,” it said. ”You'll never learn. But you can't stop me now. You haven't got the b.a.l.l.s.”

But Kyria spoke again, and the love in her voice increased. ”Come,” she said softly. ”It is time to give this up. You have to. It is killing you.”

The Specter blinked at her tone. Even in this cynical reification of everything that Suzanne had despised in Solomon, her government, and the Vietnam War, something was obviously responding to the voice of a once-loved woman out of a quiet New England past. ”Who are you?” it said warily.

Kyria held herself tall. ”I am your wife.”

Alouzon stared. Kyria was trying to undo a lifetime of horror with simple affection and love. It was as if the sorceress had reached an existence in which she could pity even the Specter.

Darham had said it, too: compa.s.sion.

Was that what the Grail demanded? Alouzon shuddered at the thought. She was not sure she was capable of it.

But the thing on the back of the Worm jerked its gaze away from Kyria, the void in its eyes suddenly uncertain, troubled. ”Leave me alone,” it said petulantly. ”You want to feed me those pills again?”

Kyria lifted her hands. ”I can learn, you can learn. Come.”

With a cry, though, the Worm flapped up and reached out with an adamantine claw. Kyria had left herself open, defenseless, gambling on the hope that, through her reconciliation with what Solomon had been, the Specter might be tamed. But the Specter was not her creation: it belonged to Alouzon, and to a certain extent to Solomon himself. It could play out a part in a dialog, but it would remain unaffected by her love.

The Worm reached. The Specter lifted its sword.

But both were struck by something that exploded from the doors of Kinsey Hall like a sunrise, and a vast, golden light dazzled the eyes of void that were closing on the sorceress. Dindrane had returned, and now she stood at the top of the stairs, the healing energies of a Vayllen priestess coursing through her staff.

Dazed, the Specter fell back only to be struck again, for now Silbakor, black as iron, darted in from the south and slashed talons across its face.

The Specter flailed. Alouzon slid to the ground and handed Jia's reins to Kyria. ”Beat it.”

Kyria nodded. ”I will. I can do no more here, and my king will need me in the battles that lie ahead.” She smiled graciously at Alouzon for an instant, curtsied deeply, and then, leading Jia, entered the building.

Alouzon did not wait for the Specter to re-orient itself, for she knew that, together with the Worm, it would be able to counter Silbakor's defense and follow her wherever she went. But that, for now, was what she wanted. The army would be safe, Helwych would be in trouble, and the Specter would be pursuing bait considerably more attractive than five hundred warriors, harpers, and healers.

Still, she had no idea what she herself was going to do, and since she needed as much of a head start as she could get, she sheathed her sword and took off across the campus at a run. Clad as she was only in shorts and a light blouse, her steps were light, and the rubber soles of her sneakers clapped rhythmically on cement walkways and patches of gra.s.s as she made for her car.

But another set of footsteps-light, sandaled-was following, gaining on her. Alouzon suddenly discovered that Dindrane was at her side.

”What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?”

”a.s.sisting my G.o.ddess,” came the reply. ”Where are we going?”

”To my car, but the gate-”

Dindrane shook her head and pointed at the long shadows that were streaking the campus. The sun had risen: the pa.s.sage into Gryylth was no more.

Accompanied by the priestess, pursued by the Specter and by the rising sounds of sirens and police helicopters, Alouzon sprinted across d.i.c.kson Court and rounded the corner of Murphy Hall. There, waiting in the parking lot, was her Volkswagen. She shoved Dindrane into the pa.s.senger seat and scrambled behind the wheel, afraid that, at any moment, she might feel a blast of hot breath on her back-as deadly as a claymore mine-followed by the crunch of opalescent teeth.

The sky was turning to the gray of smog and haze as she pulled out of the lot. The VW squealed down -Circle Drive East and out onto Hilgard just as the black-and-whites were pulling onto the campus, the officers in them more concerned with frantic reports of hounds, Dragons, and armed warriors than with what were obviously two student types heading home after an all-night study session.

But once on Hilgard, Alouzon poured on the gas, and the VW, protesting, sped down the street. Eventually, she knew, her speed and her erratic driving-not to mention the inevitable attacks from the Specter-were going to attract attention, and the police would close in. But for now she was concerned only with putting as much distance as she could between herself and the h.e.l.lish vision of war and slaughter that was beginning to search for her.

Dindrane watched owlishly as Alouzon sped up the ramp of the northbound San Diego Freeway. The priestess' hands, slick with nervous sweat, were tight on her staff, but her expression was trusting.

Alouzon swung immediately into the fast lane, urged the VW up to top speed. She glanced at Dindrane. ”Sorry about this.”

The priestess nodded. ”My Lady,” she said formally, ”whatever comes is acceptable.”