Date: Sun, 26 Jun 2016 22:37:40 -0600
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 24-The Orb of Winter-Gay Science Fiction

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				   *****

			    Chapter Twenty-Four


   Kahket opened the ornate velvet box containing the polished bendoh
stone. Measuring about two inches in diameter, the thing had runes upon it
representing the spirits of four elementals bound into it by ancient
Witches of the Spoken Word. In the making of these stones, four primeval
guardians of Wynwrayth had given consent to ferry information exactly as it
was uttered through their demesnes (even over great distances) to another
being that held the matching rock. In some cases, (as in the one that
Kahket used now) she could even see through the stone into the room in
which its twin was held.
   The sorceress blew upon the polished surface of the rock, and it slowly
filled with purple clouds. A bit of lightning flickered in the small globe,
and the rune for the air spirit started to glow a dull red. Because the
other stone was within a few miles, the connection was immediate and
strong.
   "We have the knight," Cirumoghel said to Kahket, his voice deep and
filled with confidence. "We dare not bring him into the city through any of
the gates unless you want Skellhaundar to find out about it."
   The clouds parted before her eyes, and she saw the onyx-skinned death
giant she had hired staring back at her, his face a bit distorted along the
curvature of the stone.
   "Where are you now?" Kahket asked. "My informants told me an emerald
dragon was spotted in the sky above the southern marshes about an hour
ago. Was that you?"
   "Aye," Cirumoghel said. "We ran into some trouble retrieving your
mark. There was an assassin whose skill was quite formidable and cost me a
few souls from my cape. We decided to fly south over the marshes to keep
our passing from being on the lips of every villager from Zanda city to
Kalek-Haru. Your informants are good for we approached through a fog and
the marshlands occupy several hundred miles."
   Thus the necessity for spies who do not depend on line of sight and who
never tire, Kahket thought. But she didn't say this. "Perhaps I just get
lucky with good help," she said. "As for your situation, there's another
option. A mile outside the southern gate there's a farm with an old
windmill on it and a huge barn, painted red. It's near the edge of the
swamp, and it's the only one that has a herd of nightmares. The rancher
that owns it works for me, and it's how I get into and out of the city when
I need to go unnoticed. Under his house there's a tunnel that goes under
the wall. The far end of it empties out in Slippery Squib at a caravanserai
called `Omar's Imports.' Omar's a smuggler and loyal to me. He'll prepare a
crate to box up your prisoner, so make sure he's unconscious."
   "He's been unconscious ever since Mara struck him in the head,"
Cirumoghel replied. "He's got quite a hematoma going on right now."
   This news made Kahket furious. "Idiot! If you kill him he's of no use to
us! We need the password to get past the cibrian golem in the Keep of
Silverhawk. Without it, the orb is irretrievable."
   "Those are strong words, bride of Zandine. I've destroyed many creatures
in my life, golems among them. Dragons too. I've never been in combat with
one made of pure cibrian, but I'd bet my cadel that I could beat it just
like all the others," Cirumoghel bragged. "I could retrieve the orb for you
without the password, but the price might be steep."
   "Oh really? How would you do that when it's immune to physical damage?"
Kahket asked.
   There was a pause on the other end of the bendoh stone. "Perhaps magic?"
Cirumoghel asked, tone showing that he was much less sure of himself now.
   "Cibrian golems are immune to magic. Any more bright ideas?" Kahket
asked.
   After an uncomfortable silence, Cirumoghel said, "Uh...I'll make sure
that no further harm comes to the young knight. Honestly, I think the
swelling has gone down since we grabbed him this morning."
   Kahket cleared her throat and said, "If Dr. Vampyr with his considerable
talents is unable to awaken that knight from whatever coma you put him
into, I want you to know that I will allow the doctor to practice his craft
on you and Mara Kano to his heart's content, if he even has one. He did
tell me once that he'd never gotten to try his craft on a Nevrenachtur
lord. Your deeds today may very well have marked the beginning of a whole
new page in anatomical studies for death giants and what we know of them."
   "There's no need to get nasty," Cirumoghel replied.
   "I think there is," Kahket said. "Especially when I'm relying upon
you...someone that isn't inspiring me with a lot of confidence right now."
   "All right," Cirumoghel said. "Once we get to the farm, is there
anything special I need to say to the farmer?"
   "Tell him you are on a mission for the Dreaded Irtemara and need to get
into the city unseen. He'll take care of everything else," Kahket said.
   "Very well," Cirumoghel replied. "I'll see you soon, and we are both
looking forward to the reward."
   Then the conversation ended, and the bendoh stone in Kahket's grasp
stopped glowing.
   Kahket replaced the object in the velvet box and closed the
lid. Absently, she touched her swollen belly as the child within kicked
once more. It would be a matter of days now before she would be taken to
the birthing chair. I have to get my plans in order before then, she
thought. I must speak with Constantine's soul in the lair of the gorgon.
   The sorceress moved across the room and into a chamber that had no
windows. On the floor a pentagram painted in fresh human blood spread out
before her feet. At each point lay a human skull with a tallow candle
burning brightly from a socket drilled through the frontal plate. Kahket
took off her silk robe and strode naked into the very center and then sat
with legs crossed and hands upturned to the ceiling. She intended to
project herself through the astral plane, and into the seventh layer of
hell where she was sure she could find Constantine's soul in the court of
the Gorgon Atropos, who alone knew the Word of Power for stone itself. The
peril of such a journey into the nine hells could be lessened with a
prepared sacrifice. Kahket had learned over millennia how to appeal to the
hierarchies of hell and its nine rulers and used her astral form often to
converse with them. And in that time she learned one powerful truth: they
all lusted after one precious commodity—souls that belonged in heaven.
   Kahket's astral travels had made possible an alliance with Typhon, and
the spectral dragon king had told her how to open a gate unto his plane so
that he could cross over to Wynwrayth in all his terrifying glory. But the
great dragon that ruled the first plane of hell would have no power in the
court of the Gorgon Atropos. So her gift (and promise) would be to deliver
the soul of the Valion knight, Ephram Skye, in exchange for the Gorgon's
acquiescence on the matter of Constantine.
   Slowing her breath, Kahket began the chant that would lead to a deep
meditative state. Soon, she felt her skin grow cold and gooseflesh spread
all over her body. Drawing upon her considerable magical might, the demonic
sorceress forced her own soul from the body in which she lived, and the
lamia drifted upward only bound to herself by a shimmering silver
cord. Then down she sunk through the floor and into the endless galleries
and storm clouds of the astral plane.
   It took some time, but Kahket at last found herself at the gates of the
Fortress of Unbreakable Walls: the home of the Gorgon Atropos. Seven
gigantic byssian stone rings ground one atop another, nested within each
other like hollow dolls. In front of this strange gate stood two naga with
long serpentine tails. They held forth gargantuan swords whose blades were
as long as her body.
   "I must pass," she said to the guardians.
   "What is your business?" one of the naga asked, indifferent to Kahket's
station or rank among mortals.
   "I am the Bride of Zandine, and my business is with the Gorgon
herself. I bring the promise of a mighty soul to be delivered to her if she
will hear my entreaty," Kahket said.
   The naga considered Kahket for a moment and then commanded the spinning
rings to slow and then stop. "You may enter the fortress, Bride of the
Prince of Chaos."
   Kahket floated quickly past, her silver cord stretching from her back
into an infinity of ether. A dark corridor of strange bone greeted her, and
from somewhere below wafted warm air, the smell of putrefaction, and the
scream of doomed souls. The walls on the inside of the fortress were made
from human ribcages, skulls, and spinal columns covered in a paper-thin
veneer of flesh. The bones here had been twisted and shaped in the vision
of some insane plan drawn by an unknown architect. Some surfaces glistened
in their wetness from fonts of bright red blood that emptied their contents
down these macabre walls. Some of the mouths in the wall gaped while others
were tight-lipped, but all of them moved subtly with unnatural life. They
produced whispers from hidden throats that spoke wickedness in the language
of the damned.
   For once, Kahket enjoyed the fact she didn't have to walk here because a
calcified ridge occupied the middle of the floor where the joints of leg
bones interlocked as one. The space between femurs bubbled in a black goo
with a consistency of tar; it might have been murder on her beautiful
stiletto heels.
   As Kahket went further along, the passage grew steeper, and it formed a
stair that spiraled down into mysterious depths. Blood continued to drip
sporadically from the ceiling and the floor, and Kahket imagined that the
bones alternated between slippery and sticky depending on how long one
stayed in a particular spot.
   When she reached the last step, the corridor broadened to accommodate
double doors made of hammered bronze. They lay propped open by huge stone
statues shattered into boulders the size of a full-grown wild boar. On the
far side she found a colossal room with a vast domed ceiling. Cauldrons of
churning fire filled the chamber with a ruddy glow, and thousands of carved
stone columns supported the roof high above.
   Kahket heard the pitter patter of the blood striking the stone floor of
this place, which appeared greased with so much of it that the ground
looked painted crimson. Everywhere stood statues of men in full armor, some
wearing robes, and others sporting fine leathers and scale mail. The
clothing and armor was not stone, only the people inside were. From
somewhere beyond the huge stone supports, Kahket heard a rattle as that
produced from the tail of a giant snake.
   Then the sorceress saw the Gorgon herself.
   The ruler of the Fortress of Unbreakable Walls had a head of snakes and
a scaled face occupied by one eye on the left and a vacant hole on the
right. Her torso was female; she had large pointed breasts with sharp black
nipples pierce through in steel hoops and strung with a glittering silver
chain that served to join them together. Her lower body was like the nagas
out front, serpentine and long. She carried no weapon but her hands had
nails so sharp on them, Kahket thought they could probably cut glass.
   "Give me one reason why I should not kill you," Atropos said, voice
echoing in the virtually endless chamber.
   Kahket bowed. "Great Atropos, I bring you the promise of a powerful soul
of good if you will grant me your favor."
   The hissing of the snakes in the hair of the creature grew louder and
she circled the sorceress, staring at her with that one bold eye. "What
soul?" she asked. "I will have details so I can make a proper decision."
   "One that belongs to a Crimson Guard of the Valion knights. This is the
highest rank and most honorable post of the god of war. The soul I promise
you has known the touch of Thomas himself. I promise to send this soul here
within the week if you will but aid me."
   The Gorgon paused, considering this. The ugly creature then nodded and
said, "I will grant you this favor. What do you require?"
   "I wish to speak with Constantine, the Nightshade, whose soul has been
your toy for over a year in mortal memory. He is among your gallery, is he
not?"
   "He is," the Gorgon said. Atropos looked into the enormous chamber and
gestured with her clawed hands. From far away, Kahket heard the grinding of
stone. A moment later a statue appeared, walking amidst the others like a
granite soldier marching to the beat of some hellish drum. It wore tattered
black garments and she saw it was missing several fingers. Additionally,
its face and body were quite scarred and hideous to behold. "You may
speak," the Gorgon said when it arrived.
   The statue looked at Kahket and asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure of
this visit, oh sexy and beautiful Dreaded Irtemara? Why do you interrupt my
service of ten thousand years in this place?"
   "I am working to reincarnate you. I came to secure permission from the
Gorgon to allow the deed to pass, and to ask you to accept the summons when
it arrives. You will not be born into the body that you knew, for that is
gone in the lava flows that wiped Soulwarden from the face of the
earth. But we will bring you back in the body of Ser Tragar Grimholdt, a
powerful Timeron knight in the service of Calisto Blackmoor. His body, once
restored, will be young and strong."
   "What makes you think I want to be reincarnated, much less into the body
of a Timeron knight? My god is Tethyr, and I am damned because I failed to
bring him glory, which is my just punishment. This is why I serve my time
here in the Fortress of Unbreakable Walls for as a man of action, I am
turned to stone to appreciate the eons that my inaction caused. Only after
my mind breaks will I be free to go onto heaven. But a mind that is turned
to stone takes a long time to break, lamia of hell. And hell with its
horrors has only time to whittle away," Constantine said.
   "Ser Tragar Grimholdt was murdered by your protégé, the one known
as Hunter," Kahket said.
   "So that ungrateful upstart rat spawn of mine is making your life
difficult, is he? As much as I'd love to trade places with him, and how I'd
enjoy sliding a blade dipped in caasak poison between his ribs, I couldn't
possibly defeat him now that he has powers from Tethyr himself. He's a
disciple of the god of thieves, which makes him deadlier than any
Nightshade. And he's got Bloodbane to boot. What makes you think I'd even
stand a chance against him?" Constantine asked.
   "Have you heard of golden galactorrhea?" Kahket asked.
   "Mythic milk? You came all the way to hell to ask me about male
lactation? What does that have to do with anything?" Constantine asked.
   "Golden galactorrhea must come from a very specific kind of man: someone
who can produce royal jelly. We are combing the world for such a substance,
and I'm offering a reward that is sure to attract attention. When we find
it, we shall incorporate it into your reincarnation. Only a small quantity
is needed. Surely there is an alchemist that has this on a shelf somewhere,
left over from before the cataclysm that broke the world."
   "What will it do?" Constantine asked.
   "It will make your new body nigh unkillable with bladed weapons. A cut
will heal over instantly, even one produced by a cibrian blade. Does this
intrigue you?" Kahket asked.
   After a moment, he said, "It does."
   "Good," Kahket replied. She turned and bowed once more to the
Gorgon. "Great one, you have heard our conversation. Do I have your
permission to take this soul through reincarnation in exchange for what I
have promised?"
   "I shall await your gift," Atropos said. "Make sure that you follow
through with your promises, and yes I agree to the exchange. When his new
body dies, Constantine will return here to my gallery of statues. Time
matters not in this place. So in a sense, I come out the winner in this
bargain."
   "I will keep my promise to you, great and powerful Gorgon. As Zandine is
my husband I thus swear it on his almighty power. And as for you," she said
turning to Constantine, "When our summons for your soul arrives, do not
refuse. For you will be born into a body greater than anything you can
possibly imagine, and I shall make you my foot soldier of death."
   Constantine grinned and said, "I can't wait to see the surprised look on
that little cunt's face as I start to cut his fingers off one by one, and
he realizes that daddy's come back for him and this time there's no
escape."


				   *****

The complete novel is now available to read at
http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/discussion-board-for.html under the label
"The Orb of Winter" if you care to read ahead.

Are there any artists out there willing to draw some pics for my story? If
so, please email me.  There is an "Orb of Winter" map now in both the NEWS
section of my website and in the FORUMS of my website.

If you go to my website directly from this posting, you will want to begin
with "CHAPTER Seventeen" and skip to the three asterix.