His voice dripped venom. 'I am whole.'
Mika stared mutely.
'Though I despised him, I owe my brother this. He has made me see myself for what I am. Not for what I could have been, and not for what I might be-but for what I truly am.' He raised weirdly long arms above his head in a gesture of exultation. 'I am a, creature of evil, Doctor. I am a being of utter darkness.' His voice rose to a crescendo. 'I-am-a- monsterF
He dropped his arms, jabbing a crooked finger at her. He uttered but a single, hoarse word. 'Go.'
Mika clenched her hands to either side of her head. 'Please, Wort!'
He spat the word again. 'Go.'
Her voice rose. 'I beg you, Wort-do not turn me away!' Trembling, she reached her arms out toward him. 'I… I…'
For a moment he almost thought she was going to say the words, I love you. Had she done so, those words might have wounded him, might have burrowed deep into his chest to pierce his heart, might have made him fall to his knees and, weeping like a child, cling to her as her cool hands soothed away his maddening fury.
Wort did not have the opportunity to find out. She fell silent as a forbidding new sound throbbed upon the air. At first it was a thrumming, so low that Wort felt it more than heard it, vibrating beneath his feet and deep inside his chest. It was as if some huge hand were drumming against the earth, beating out a tattoo. The sound grew rapidly louder. Wort lumbered to the door of the tower. After a moment's hesitation, Mika followed. Both stepped into the gloomy day outside.
At first Wort could see nothing in the misty air. Then his breath caught in his throat. Figures appeared out of the fog, lurching toward the tower. They came from all directions, more of them with each passing moment, walking slowly, clumsily toward him. Even before he caught the first fetid wisps of charnel house air, he knew what the figures were.
'Zombies,' Wort croaked.
Still more of the creatures shambled out of the mist. The land itself shook with the weight of their footsteps. He heard a choking sound from Mika behind him, but he did not turn around. He could not tear his gaze from the sea of zombies. A spasm of realization passed through his body. There were actually some among the approaching undead whom he recognized.
There was Castellan Domeck, dirt clinging to the countless slashes that showed through his tattered uniform. And Contessa Sabrinda, clad in a worm- eaten gown, her face dark and swollen. There, too, was the bloodied form he knew to be Nartok's treasurer, and the dead-eyed tanner, and the two lovers, still hand in hand, their bodies pierced by a hundred thorns. All of the people he had murdered with the bell were there, risen from the grave, shuffling toward him. But there were hundreds of other zombies. Thousands. He could not possibly have slain them all.
One last time, the dark voice whispered mockingly in his mind. All whom the bell had ever slain, all who had paid the price of its curse, all who had ever died at its grisly tolling during the centuries of its existence, were climbing from their tombs to march upon the tower. They were coming for Wort. They were coming for vengeance.
'No,' he whispered.
'Wort, what are they?' Mika cried shrilly.
'No,' he said it again, louder this time. 'I will not let them take me!'
The zombies stretched out their rotting arms as they drew nearer. Mika dashed toward the gray stallion tied next to the door. The beast snorted, staring with wild eyes at the approaching throng of undead. Unfastening the reins, Mika climbed into the saddle.
'Come on, Wort!' She gestured frantically for him to mount behind her. 'We can outrun them! We'll be safe once we're away!','No…' Dully, he shook his head. He could not take his eyes off the zombies. He could see hatred gleaming in their dead eyes, hatred and murder.
'Wort!' Mika cried plaintively. The frightened horse danced skittishly. Somehow she guided it toward him. 'Please. Before it's too late. Come with me!'
Suddenly he knew what he had to do. His lips parted in a feral smile. He turned toward Mika. 'You wish to help me, Doctor?' he growled. 'You wish to save me? Very well, then!' He glanced at the zombies. They were closing in. 'Let them follow you, not me!'
With a hand he struck the stallion's rump. The beast sprang into a gallop, its hooves pounding as it fled the tower. But the zombies approached from all directions. The horse could not avoid them. Mika screamed, holding on to the creature's mane in terror as it wheeled about.
Laughing, Wort dashed back into the tower. He knew the zombies would not possibly harm Mika- she was too innocent, too pure. But he hoped the doctor would occupy them long enough for him to do what he must. Gripping the Soulstone tightly, he clambered up the tower's steps. Chest heaving, he reached the top chamber. Lurching to the altar, he slapped the stone into the waiting hollow.
'Walk, tower!' he commanded. 'Take me away from here!'
Green incandescence burst to life about the stone, engulfing it in a crackling sphere of magical fire. Wort stepped back in alarm, but the cool fire did not burn him. Suddenly tendrils of emerald magic sprouted from the shining stone to coil about the altar, tracing the arcane symbols in its surface until they too glowed with green fire. Slowly, the altar began to rise into the air. Like shimmering vines, more tendrils of magic snaked out from the floating altar, undulating across the floor of the chamber and traveling up the walls. The sizzling tendrils burrowed into the tower's stones like brilliant serpents. In moments the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the whole tower, was ablaze with crackling emerald magic. The acrid scent of lightning permeated the air.
Wort cowered as blazing bolts of energy arced back and forth across the chamber, accompanied by the roar of thunder. He was too slow. A crackling ray of magic plunged into his chest, passing completely through him. His body went stiff as the arc of magic that pierced his torso slowly lifted him off the floor. Frozen utterly still, flesh tingling as if pricked by a thousand cold needles, Wort hovered in midair next to the altar while countless bolts of green lightning sizzled back and forth across the chamber.
Abruptly the tendrils of emerald magic flared brilliantly. Wort squeezed his eyes shut, but it was no use. Green radiance flooded his-brain. He was awash in a sea of liquid emerald fire. Then all went dim. Wort tumbled to the floor, rolling just in time to avoid being crushed by the altar as it did likewise. Slowly he dragged himself to his feet, panting for breath. All trace of the green magical energy was gone. For a panicked moment, Wort feared that the magic had failed.
That was when he felt the floor lurch beneath him. He almost fell, gripping the altar to steady himself. The tower shook again. A low groaning throbbed on the air. The floor began to rock up and down, almost like the heaving deck of a ship.
Carefully, Wort made his way to the narrow slit of a window. A howl of glee escaped him. Outside, the land moved steadily by. He peered downward and saw that the tower had raised itself upon two massive stone legs. These surged up and down, pounding the ground with terrible force as the tower strode swiftly across the moor. Wort clapped his hands together.
'I have done it!' he cried jubilantly. 'I have-'
His words abruptly trailed off. Through the window he saw something that froze his blood. It was the sharp edge of a cliff. Before him lay Morrged's Leap. Wort knew the defile well. There, so long ago, he had saved Caidin's life. It was a thousand feet from the edge of the precipice to the sharp, jagged rocks below. And the tower was heading straight for it.
'Stop, tower!' Wort shouted. 'Turn back!'
The rhythmic swaying drew the cliff closer.
'Halt!' Wort cried desperately. A thought struck him. The tower had responded before when he had gripped the stone. Perhaps he needed to do so again. With a flicker of hope, he turned toward the altar.
He had not heard them climbing up the stairwell.
They shambled into the chamber in a ghastly flood. They had not wasted time on the doctor after all. The zombies. In seconds they surrounded him. He struggled fiercely as their clammy hands closed upon him. Rotting flesh tore in his fingers; his hands sank into their decomposing bodies. There were too many of them. They continued to spill from the stairwell in a rank, crushing tide. Hundreds of them.
'No!' Wort shrieked. 'Don't you understand? The tower is heading for the cliff. We'll all be killed, you
