‘I don’t know how it got in,’ said Gracus softly, ‘but it tore its fingers to the bone trying to get out. There must be another entrance. Hidden.’
For some time they searched the walls, seeking a disguised doorway. But there was nothing. Bodalen felt a great weariness settling on him and his headache worsened. He started for the doorway, but his legs gave way and he slumped to the floor. Fatigue overwhelmed him, and he saw Gracus stumble to his knees before the spinning crystal.
‘We must … get out,’ said Bodalen, trying to drag himself across the gleaming golden floor. But his eyes closed and he fell into a deep, and at first dreamless, sleep.
Awareness came to him slowly. He could see a cottage, I built by a stream, a cornfield beyond it, blue mountains, hazy in the distance behind it. There was a man walking behind a team of oxen. He was ploughing a field.
Father.
No, not Father. Father is Karnak. He never ploughed a field in his life.
Father.
Confusion flowed over him like a fog, swirling, unreal. He looked up at the sun, but there was no sun, just a spinning crystal high in the sky, humming like a thousand bees.
The man with the plough turned towards him. ‘Don’t spend your day lazing, Gracus!’ he said.
Gracus? I’m not Gracus. I am dreaming. That’s it! A dream. Wake up!
He felt himself rising from sleep, felt the awareness of flesh and muscle. He tried to move his arm, but it seemed lodged, trapped. He opened his eyes. Gracus was lying beside him. Close beside him. He must be lying on my arm, thought Bodalen. He tried to roll, but Gracus moved with him, his head lolling, his mouth open. Bodalen struggled to rise. He felt an unaccustomed weight on his right side and swung his head. There was another man lying there.
And he had no head.
I am lying on his head, thought Bodalen, panic gripping him. He surged up. The body on the right rose with him. Bodalen screamed. The headless body was part of him, the shoulders bonded to Bodalen’s flesh.
Sweet Heaven! Calm down, he told himself. This is still a dream. Just a dream.
His left arm had disappeared, embedded into and merging with Gracus’ shoulder. He tried to pull it clear, but the limp body of the Brotherhood knight merely moved closer. Their legs touched – and bonded.
The crystal continued to spin.
Across the room Bodalen saw the bodies of the other knights, melding together, twisting as if involved in some silent, unnatural orgy. And between them, lying still on the golden floor, was the huge skeleton.
Bodalen screamed again.
And passed out.
*
It awoke with no memory, but stretched its huge muscles and rolled to its belly, its three legs levering it upright, its two heads striking the golden ceiling. Rage suffused the beast, and one of the heads roared in anger. The other remained silent, grey eyes blinking at the light from the crystal.
Two other beasts were still asleep.
The crystal spun, blue lights dancing between the golden bowls.
The beast shuffled towards it, reaching out with its three great arms. A massive finger touched the flickering blue fire. Pain swept along the immense limbs, burning the creature. Both heads roared now. One arm swept out, striking the crystal, dislodging it, sending it hurtling towards the far wall. The blue flames died.
And all the lights dimmed and faded.
The near-darkness was comfortable, reassuring. The beast slumped down to its haunches. It was hungry. The smell of burnt meat came from the hall beyond. It moved to the doorway, and saw a small dead creature lying on the floor. The corpse was part-clothed in hide and metal. The meat was still fresh and the beast’s hunger swelled. It tried to move forward but its great bulk could not pass through the doorway. Rearing up, it began to tear at the exposed blocks above the metal frame. The other beasts joined it, adding their strength.
And slowly the great rocks began to crack and give.
*
Kesa Khan opened his eyes and smiled. Miriel was watching him, saw the gleam of triumph in his eyes. ‘We can move now,’ he said, with a dry laugh. ‘The way is made smooth.’