Depths of Madness - Erik Scott De Bie [124]
Twilight realized he was mistaken. Firstly, Gestal was wrong-or rather, he was right, but he had just slipped and given her the truth. Secondly, his power was failing. The spell was fading, slipping from her mind. Twilight might have smiled.
"What do you choose?"
Twilight did smile. "I choose myself," she said.
Then the demonflesh flowed back. Gestal looked at her for a long time, his breathing increasing in rapidity until he panted, then dissolved into mirth. "You choose death, then?" he asked lightly. "Very well. All is desire, will, and consequence, as I say. And there are consequences for denying our desires." His hand came up, glowing black.
"One plea," Twilight said tightly.
That putrid grin returned. He pointed at the yawning pits- two holes in the stone, from which flames arose. "You want to go into the pits, instead?" He sighed. The blackness died around his hand. "I shall enjoy watching the climax of your fall, as I have watched its course these last days."
"Liet," Twilight said. "I have something to tell him."
The name struck Gestal's ears like a heavy curse, and he recoiled as though stung. He contemplated the floor for several shuddering breaths. Then, gradually, his panting became chuckling, and his chuckling became laughter. When finally he looked up, Gestal's face gleamed and twisted with amusement.
"I shall tell him," he said. "Perhaps I'll let him wake up to see your heart lying on a platter before us. Perhaps I'll even let him taste it."
"He's not watching." Twilight felt doubt. "He knows nothing of you."
Gestal grinned. "Perhaps," he said. Then he reached toward her and intoned a series of harsh abyssal syllables to his foul patron.
"No!" the elf begged. She forced tears-painfully easy. "I must tell him myself. Let me speak to him-your magic binds me. You need not fear. One breath."
"Why?" Gestal asked. "You do not trust me. I cannot blame you. We all lie to ourselves, what's to stop me lying to you… or to him, for that matter?"
"I…" Twilight did not need to lie, but she didn't know if she should say it.
She did it without thinking. "I love him."
Then Gestal's eyes froze, shuddered, and softened. As she watched, the hideous black flesh receded like water across him, and the demon brand hissed and vanished beneath the skin.
Liet awoke, standing opposite a shuddering Twilight. He wore bulky robes that felt heavy and sodden, and his hands were covered in a sticky liquid. He wasted only that heartbeat examining himself, though-his eyes balked over Twilight.
His lover looked horrible. She stood as though stretched by an unseen rack, her blouse and breeches shredded and soaked with red. Blood-there was so much blood-ran from wounds, nose, and mouth. Her right arm hung limply at her side, burned red and black, and her legs looked none too steady. Her black hair had become a tangled jungle of smeared, caked curls.
Light rippled around him, and.he could perceive, out of the corners of his eyes, beams and latticework, as though something was peeling back the walls of reality, unveiling true order. The world seemed to fall into perfect balance-symmetry. Liet couldn't explain the feeling any other way.
" 'Light?" he asked. "Are…"
As he looked upon the pale, streaked face, his heart roiled in a mixture of bewilderment, confusion, and tragic, hopeless love. Anger was coming-why was he angry? Oh, gods-why… He stared unwittingly into the face of his betrayer.
Twilight could not manage words before the air between them shimmered and the room exploded in edifying golden light. The spell binding Twilight's body abruptly failed, dropping her unceremoniously to the floor.
"No!" she shouted. "I've changed my mind! No!"
Liet flew backward in a tangle of flailing limbs as the golden distortion shifted into a hulking black body with three heads and six massive arms, a gigantic sword'clutched in each hand. Ruukthalmuramaxamin was already in the midst of a spell, one that would devour Gestal's body