have sounded like that voice, and the stink of death, decay, and blood blew on its words, washing around the human before it.
“No,” Varnaythus replied. His merely mortal voice seemed small and frail after that sound of pulverized stone, but he gazed calmly up at the monster before him, and no witness could have guessed how hard it was for him to appear unshaken. “No, I’m not. This is precisely the time I told you I’d be here.”
“Do you call me liar? ”
The creature’s roar shook the night like a terrier shaking a rat and it half-rose from its throne, yet Varnaythus stood his ground.
“That wasn’t what I said. I said this is the time I told you to expect me here. That happens to be the truth. Whether you were mistaken, misspoke, or lied is more than I can say. And, frankly, of very little interest to me.”
The huge, obscene parody of a hradani glared at him, and the ghouls who filled the clearing went silent, trembling in terror, but Varnaythus simply stood there, arms folded before him, hands tucked into the full sleeves of his robe, and waited. Tension crackled in the night, and then, after a long, breathless moment, the creature sank back onto its throne.
“You said you would have word for us,” it rumbled. “Give it and be gone.”
“Very well.”
Varnaythus inclined his head, but only very slightly. It was a carefully metered gesture of respect from one who was at the very least an equal, and the glare in the creature’s eyes glowed hot, a brighter, deadlier green flaming through the lava for just an instant. Yet that was all that happened, and the wizard inhaled deeply, despite the stench filling the air, as he raised his head once more.
Both demons and devils were drawn from other universes, ones in which the Dark had triumphed over the Light and such abominations roamed free, yet they were very different from one another. There were other, even more powerful servants who couldn’t be brought across the chasm between universes, for the Gods of Light forbade it, and those other servants were too powerful to creep across unobserved. Sharna’s greater servants approached that limit, but not so nearly as Krashnark’s. His devils might be physically less imposing than demons, yet they blazed with so much power it was even more difficult for them to elude the Gods of Light’s vigilance. They were far, far more intelligent than Sharna’s creatures, as well, and appearances could be deceiving even where simple physical strength was concerned. The creature in front of him-Anshakar-could have matched any demon strength for strength, and its mere presence warped reality in subtle, distorting ways. The very air about it seemed to shimmer and waver, as if it were water covered by a thin skim of polluted oil, and that distortion could have ruinous consequences for any spell directed at it. More than that, demons were bound by their summoners; they were controlled, not controllers. But unlike a demon, Anshakar could not have cared less that Varnaythus knew his true name, for-also unlike a demon-no mortal could summon him against his will, and Anshakar’s name had no power over him, except in the voice of Him whom he called Master. He could not be bound, he could not be commanded, and his wrath could not be appeased by any mortal ever born.
That was the reason no wizard in his right mind ever even attempted to summon a devil. If it deigned to respond at all, it was usually only to discover who’d had the audacity to disturb it before it devoured that unfortunate individual…usually while the meal was still alive, since its soul was tastier that way. Occasionallyoccasionally — it might actually choose not to destroy its summoner, but only when the reason it had been summoned was more entertaining than dismembering a wizard, and very few things were more entertaining for a devil than dismembering anyone.
But Anshakar and his companions hadn’t been summoned; they’d been sent, by Krashnark Phrofro, the one being they had no choice but to obey. Every devil in existence, wherever it might dwell, came from a universe which had fallen into Krashnark’s power as His personal fief, and every one of them owed Him a fealty no other god-a certainly no mere mortal-could challenge or overcome.
That was one of the reasons for the burning hatred between Him and His twin, Sharna. There were many times as many demons as devils, but Sharna lacked the power to command those more powerful beings, and a single devil was more than a match for any score of demons. There had been confrontations, upon occasion, between Sharna and Krashnark, mostly in the closing stages of the conquest of universes which had fallen to the Dark. The infighting at moments like that tended to be vicious beyond belief as Phrobus’ children battled to rip the choicest bits of power from the toppling wreckage. Yet unless one of Their siblings chose to league with Sharna (which They rarely did; They had no desire to make Krashnark an enemy for Sharna’s sake), those confrontations had always…ended badly for Him and His demons.
Varnaythus didn’t know all the details of those other universes, and he often suspected that what he did know-what he’d been allowed to discover-had been carefully shaped and limited by the Dark Gods. They didn’t want Their mortal servants in this universe knowing too much about the weaknesses, the potential vulnerabilities, They might have revealed in another. But he also suspected that one reason Krashnark’s devils were so loyal and obedient to Him was also the reason they were more powerful; Krashnark had taken at least a partial page from the God of Light. He had a far more direct relationship with His greater servants than the other Dark Gods, deliberately choosing to have fewer of them than He might have, but making those He did have His champions, as surely as Bahzell Bahnakson was Tomanak’s champion. Not in the same way, for even the greatest of His servants was still His slave, as well, yet He allowed them a greater degree of autonomy-and access to far more power-than any of His siblings (except Carnadosa) or even His mother would ever dream of permitting.
“I have fresh information, Anshakar,” the wizard said now, feeling the malevolent will behind those green- shot red eyes beating upon him as he made himself meet their weight steadily. “My art has learned of certain events which couldn’t be predicted when They sent you forth upon this mission.”
“ They? ” Anshakar snarled. The blast of his foul breath rippled the fabric of Varnaythus’ robe, like a gale howling up out of some opened tomb. “There is no ‘they’ who can command me, Wizard! I come at my Master’s bidding-no one else’s!”
“True,” Varnaythus conceded calmly. “Yet He’s commanded you to cooperate with my Lady in this mission, has he not? And told you that His Father has given Her primary direction of it.”
He held the devil’s gaze until Anshakar spat on the dais and snarled something which was probably an affirmative. The dais’ surface smoked and sizzled where the spittle struck, and a reek of brimstone rose from it.
“My Lady has enjoined me to remember that this portion of the mission is yours,” Varnaythus continued, “and I have no desire to attempt to give you commands or require you to do anything other than that which Lord Krashnark has instructed you to do. Yet, by the same token, the overall coordination of the mission falls to me, and that requires me to share information with you as it comes to my hand. Now, are you prepared to hear it?”
Anshakar reclaimed the shredded, oozing torso from where it had fallen and took another huge bite from it. His jaws worked, an icicle of gore dangling from them, and he nodded curtly.
“Speak and be gone,” he snarled through his mouthful.
“Very well. I’m not yet certain, but it seems likely that rather than the single champion of Tomanak you were expected to face, there will be three.”
The creatures seated on either side of Anshakar-Zurak and Kimazh-looked up abruptly, but Anshakar only waved the shredded torso dismissively.
“And you think this is going to change my plans?”
His laugh boomed, and the crouching ghouls shuddered in bestial, ecstatic terror at the sound. The whimpering moan of their fear rose at Varnaythus’ back, but the wizard only shrugged.
“I think it’s information you should have so that you can take it into consideration,” he replied, and Anshakar laughed again.
“You mean you think it’s information I should run and hide from, as you would!” the devil grunted.
“I admit I have no pressing desire to meet the Bloody Hand face-to-face,” Varnaythus said frankly. “His record of success is formidable, and I doubt Walsharno’s presence would make him any easier to defeat. On the other hand, as you yourself pointed out, I’m a wizard, not a warrior. My strengths lie in other areas than direct confrontation with champions, and they aren’t as great as yours to begin with.”
“Your strengths are nothing,” Anshakar sneered. “You and your precious ‘Lady’ are so proud of your little magics, your puny spells. This is strength!”
He held up what was left of his meal in one hand and closed his fist upon it. There was a ghastly, crunching
