A whinny, and Karthin was unhorsed. He fell heavily on the steps, and the hounds closed in. Marrha cried out and plunged straight for him through the thick of the beasts; but the big man rose, eyed his attackers, and calmly, methodically, cut one to pieces while his huge fist smashed the face of another into a ruin of phosphor and brains.

His hand smoked as the flesh began to dissolve. He examined it, shrugged, and dealt similarly with another hound.

But above the clatter of hooves and the demented chorus of the hounds, Alouzon heard a steady, rhythmic beating, felt a turgid pulsation in the air. At first, she thought it was a police helicopter-and indeed, looking up, she saw approaching strobe and search lights-but as the beating and pulsation increased, she recognized them for what they really were: the flap of immense wings.

With a scream, a huge white head suddenly reared up above Haines Hall, and pallid wings lofted the White Worm over the rooftops. Astride it, carrying a parody Dragonsword in its hand like the severed head of a defeated enemy, was the Specter.

The hounds broke off their attack and retreated. Whining, frightened, they rolled on their backs and pawed at the air submissively as their master approached; and when a quick hand signal from Marrha regrouped the First and Second Wartroops and sent them cantering towards the steps of the hall, Kyria saw her chance. While the hounds lay open and exposed, she blanketed the lawn with a wave of incandescence that turned them to cinders in a heartbeat.

The Worm screamed at the sight, its talons clawing at the roof of Haines Hall. Marrha reached the landing halfway up the steps, and Alouzon grabbed her hand. "This is going to be tight," she said. "Get everyone up the stairs and through the pa.s.sage. You'll have to make it all the way to Gryylth before the sun rises here, and you've only got a few minutes."

Marrha sent the men and women ahead, and Santhe took over the command, leading the warriors and horses through the door of the hall. At- a touch from Kyria, the phosphor vanished from Karthin's hand and arm. He bowed to her, grabbed the bridle of his horse, and led it away. But he stopped at the top of the steps, waiting. He would not desert his wife.

Marrha had stayed at Alouzon's side. For a moment, she glared defiantly at the Specter, then turned to Alouzon. "And what about you, my friend?"

"I've . . ." This was it. She could not escape this final confrontation. "I've got things to do here. You'll have to go on without me."

Marrha's voice shook. Alouzon heard anger and fear both. "My friend Alouzon . . ." said the captain. "I . . ."

"Goon."

The Worm had spread its wings and gained alt.i.tude, and now it stooped towards the figures on the steps. A bolt from Kyria smashed it back into the air, and its wings flailed as it fought for balance.

Alouzon leaned out from Jia's back, opened her arms, and hugged the captain. "Marrha," she choked, "this is goodbye."

"I will stay and fight with you, Alouzon. Karthin too."

The Worm righted itself and hung, hovering. The Specter lifted its sword, and a distant howling drifted over the campus, mingling with the wail of approaching police sirens. The helicopters circled, searchlights stabbing down at the field. The dawn was brightening, the sun nearing the rim of the world.

"You can't do anything," said Alouzon. "I have to do this myself.'' She was shaking with terror, but she hugged Marrha all the tighter and hoped that the captain would not notice. "I'll get the Specter out of here. You get everyone through, and you tell Wykla I love her and that she made the right choice. But I have to go now. I might live through this, and if I do, I'll be around. I'll always be around. But you probably still won't see me again."

Understanding suddenly dawned on Marrha, and she stared into Alouzon's face.

"It's true, Marrha." Alouzon choked out the words. "I'm Her."

"My G.o.ddess!"

Alouzon kissed her. "I love you, Marrha. Now go on. Take off."

Marrha gave Alouzon a last hug, backed her horse, and lifted her sword in salute. "Do what you must, my friend," she said, her face radiant. "And never forget that Your children love You.'' And with that she turned her horse and galloped up the steps. Karthin swung into the saddle at her approach, and he followed her into the building, dipping his head slightly to clear the top of the door. Alouzon heard the clatter of hooves on the inner stairs.

The howls continued. A surging luminescence appeared in the darkness of d.i.c.kson Court.

Kyria spoke suddenly, dropping her arm. "Solomon." Her tone was calm, almost loving.

The Specter's head snapped up, its empty glare swinging about like the helicopter searchlights. The" luminescence faded, as did the howls. "You again," it said. "You'll never learn. But you can't stop me now. You haven't got the b.a.l.l.s."

But Kyria spoke again, and the love in her voice increased. "Come," she said softly. "It is time to give this up. You have to. It is killing you."

The Specter blinked at her tone. Even in this cynical reification of everything that Suzanne had despised in Solomon, her government, and the Vietnam War, something was obviously responding to the voice of a once-loved woman out of a quiet New England past. "Who are you?" it said warily.

Kyria held herself tall. "I am your wife."

Alouzon stared. Kyria was trying to undo a lifetime of horror with simple affection and love. It was as if the sorceress had reached an existence in which she could pity even the Specter.

Darham had said it, too: compa.s.sion.

Was that what the Grail demanded? Alouzon shuddered at the thought. She was not sure she was capable of it.

But the thing on the back of the Worm jerked its gaze away from Kyria, the void in its eyes suddenly uncertain, troubled. "Leave me alone," it said petulantly. "You want to feed me those pills again?"

Kyria lifted her hands. "I can learn, you can learn. Come."

With a cry, though, the Worm flapped up and reached out with an adamantine claw. Kyria had left herself open, defenseless, gambling on the hope that, through her reconciliation with what Solomon had been, the Specter might be tamed. But the Specter was not her creation: it belonged to Alouzon, and to a certain extent to Solomon himself. It could play out a part in a dialog, but it would remain unaffected by her love.

The Worm reached. The Specter lifted its sword.

But both were struck by something that exploded from the doors of Kinsey Hall like a sunrise, and a vast, golden light dazzled the eyes of void that were closing on the sorceress. Dindrane had returned, and now she stood at the top of the stairs, the healing energies of a Vayllen priestess coursing through her staff.

Dazed, the Specter fell back only to be struck again, for now Silbakor, black as iron, darted in from the south and slashed talons across its face.

The Specter flailed. Alouzon slid to the ground and handed Jia's reins to Kyria. "Beat it."

Kyria nodded. "I will. I can do no more here, and my king will need me in the battles that lie ahead." She smiled graciously at Alouzon for an instant, curtsied deeply, and then, leading Jia, entered the building.

Alouzon did not wait for the Specter to re-orient itself, for she knew that, together with the Worm, it would be able to counter Silbakor's defense and follow her wherever she went. But that, for now, was what she wanted. The army would be safe, Helwych would be in trouble, and the Specter would be pursuing bait considerably more attractive than five hundred warriors, harpers, and healers.

Still, she had no idea what she herself was going to do, and since she needed as much of a head start as she could get, she sheathed her sword and took off across the campus at a run. Clad as she was only in shorts and a light blouse, her steps were light, and the rubber soles of her sneakers clapped rhythmically on cement walkways and patches of gra.s.s as she made for her car.

But another set of footsteps-light, sandaled-was following, gaining on her. Alouzon suddenly discovered that Dindrane was at her side.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

"a.s.sisting my G.o.ddess," came the reply. "Where are we going?"

"To my car, but the gate-"

Dindrane shook her head and pointed at the long shadows that were streaking the campus. The sun had risen: the pa.s.sage into Gryylth was no more.

Accompanied by the priestess, pursued by the Specter and by the rising sounds of sirens and police helicopters, Alouzon sprinted across d.i.c.kson Court and rounded the corner of Murphy Hall. There, waiting in the parking lot, was her Volkswagen. She shoved Dindrane into the pa.s.senger seat and scrambled behind the wheel, afraid that, at any moment, she might feel a blast of hot breath on her back-as deadly as a claymore mine-followed by the crunch of opalescent teeth.

The sky was turning to the gray of smog and haze as she pulled out of the lot. The VW squealed down -Circle Drive East and out onto Hilgard just as the black-and-whites were pulling onto the campus, the officers in them more concerned with frantic reports of hounds, Dragons, and armed warriors than with what were obviously two student types heading home after an all-night study session.

But once on Hilgard, Alouzon poured on the gas, and the VW, protesting, sped down the street. Eventually, she knew, her speed and her erratic driving-not to mention the inevitable attacks from the Specter-were going to attract attention, and the police would close in. But for now she was concerned only with putting as much distance as she could between herself and the h.e.l.lish vision of war and slaughter that was beginning to search for her.

Dindrane watched owlishly as Alouzon sped up the ramp of the northbound San Diego Freeway. The priestess' hands, slick with nervous sweat, were tight on her staff, but her expression was trusting.

Alouzon swung immediately into the fast lane, urged the VW up to top speed. She glanced at Dindrane. "Sorry about this."

The priestess nodded. "My Lady," she said formally, "whatever comes is acceptable."

The unconditional trust shook Alouzon, but she kept her right foot pressed to the floor. "I love you, Dindrane."

"And I you, Great Lady."

This early, the freeway was mercifully clear, and Alouzon had no difficulty keeping her speed up by switching lanes and pa.s.sing slower vehicles. But while she drove, she was calculating. A ten-gallon tank of gas, freshly filled, and twenty-five miles to the gallon. Two-hundred fifty miles then, at least. Far enough to make, say, San Luis Obispo, or maybe even Monterey. But what then? The Specter did not have to worry about gas, or about eating, or, in fact, about anything save killing a certain Alouzon Dragonmaster and bringing to a final, hopeless conclusion the tale of blood and destruction that had started with hound attacks on Vaylle and the bombing of Bandon.

A crash. The VW careened to the side. Alouzon fought with the wheel and barely succeeded in pulling out of a fatal skid. Sweeping ahead and out to the right, gaining alt.i.tude after its attack, the Worm was beating great wings and swinging around for another pa.s.s in spite of Silbakor's efforts to intercept it.

Dindrane struggled to turn around. "How can I get to the rear of this . . . automobile?''

Speeding, pa.s.sing cars, braced for another clanging impact from the Worm's talons, Alouzon explained how to recline the seat. Dindrane nodded, flopped it back, and clambered into the rear. Darting a quick look upward, Alouzon noticed that the Worm's claws had left dents and holes in the roof.

Another crash, but not from the Worm: Dindrane had smashed the rear window with her staff. A pause, and then the sudden sense of warmth and health that infused the car told Alouzon that the priestess was drawing energy into the consecrated wood.

"Steady, G.o.ddess ..."

With a soundless concussion that was so ephemeral that Alouzon sensed it with her mind more than her body, Dindrane's staff flared and sent a bolt of healing straight at the white face and eyes of void sweeping in from behind. A scream from the Worm told of a direct hit.

" 'Tis backing up," said the priestess proudly.

The VW strained up the slope of the pa.s.s, its speed, maddeningly, decreasing. Alouzon dropped to a lower gear, and die automobile responded with a lunge. "Thanks."

" 'Tis my duty, G.o.ddess."

"Well, thanks anyway."

The Worm and the Specter were undeterred. Mounting abruptly into the sky, they struggled once again with Silbakor, and the Great Dragon's belly was sliced open by the Specter's sword. Blood welled out, and pieces of Dragon were shredded into the air, pinwheel-ing against the dawn like chunks of night.

The Worm plummeted down on the VW. Alouzon swerved across three lanes, but the talons found her hood, lifted, and threw the VW onto its back. The car skidded madly up onto the shoulder of the road and bounced off the guard rails, then, with a shriek of metal on asphalt, it lost speed and finally dumped itself off the pavement and onto the bare dirt, righting itself with a final lurch.

Alouzon's vision was swimming. She blinked stupidly at the mountains and the sky.

And from somewhere close by came a voice: "... weather service indicates no let up in the heat wave before the weekend. High today is expected to be a sizzling one hundred and five, with a low tonight in the mid-eighties ..."

She blinked again, shook her head, found herself staring at the dashboard radio. The voice and a trickle of blood winding its way down the side of her nose told her that she must have struck the on/off switch! with her forehead.

"... KHJ News Radio time is seven-thirty . . ."

Her hands were not working, and she lay as one anesthetized. Memories and thoughts drifted through her mind, random and incoherent. She saw bits and pieces of Gryylth, of an army of healers and warriors forming up and a.s.saulting the slopes of Kingsbury Hill. She saw the grinning faces of hounds and the impa.s.sive, vacant eyes of the Gray faces. And-lastly and most strangely-she saw the rotting features of Solomon Braithwaite, still and dead in his coffin.

The professor's eyes opened suddenly and fixed her with their glazed stare. Alouzon cried out and struggled towards consciousness, but the withered corpse-hands grabbed her and held her. "I told you I'd help you, girl," said the dead man in a voice like the rustle of rotting leaves. "Take advantage of it."

"H-how?"

The gla.s.sy eyes bored into her. "I'm here, dammit. Use your pathetically over-educated head."

"... and, turning to local news headlines: the body of the unknown woman found in the wreckage of the house of noted feminist author and lecturer Helen Ad-dams has been identified as that of Suzanne Leah h.e.l.ling, a graduate student at UCLA. "

The vision faded. The VW came back. Dindrane was sprawled beside her, and the sound of far-off screaming was paradoxically loud. Forcing her hands to grab the steering wheel, Alouzon hauled herself up and stared through the windshield. Thirty feet away, Silbakor was grappling with the Worm, and the Specter was cutting into the Great Dragon with its sword.

"Police say they know of no connection between the two women, and the cause of the destruction of the house is still unknown.''

Bruised and cut, Dindrane was struggling back to her senses. '' A-Alouzon?''

"Right here."

"That voice Alouzon switched off the radio, reached for the ig- nition key. The engine coughed into life. "Don't worry about it."

"O G.o.ddess-"

Pain and fright had shortened Alouzon's temper, and she was tired of Dindrane's insistent formalities. "Call me Alouzon, dammit. Now hang on: this is gonna be rough."

Dindrane scrambled into her seat. After revving the engine for a moment, Alouzon popped the clutch, and the VW suddenly surged forward in a cloud of dust. The Worm, about to deliver a killing stroke to the struggling Dragon, jerked its head up at the sudden motion; but before it could move, Alouzon smashed the car straight into it.

The Worm was thrown off balance; and not only did it dump the Specter on the ground, but-wings flailing, head reared back-it left itself open for a lunge from Silbakor, and the Dragon's black teeth tore a gaping rent in the pale throat. Ichor and mucus spilled out onto the bare ground, smoking where they touched. Crippled, screaming, the Worm floundered.

Satisfied that she had given Silbakor a fighting chance, Alouzon guided the VW back onto the freeway. The car was damaged, but it was still mobile, and, lurching and coughing, it picked up speed.

She looked up through the windshield. Police helicopters were circling. Ground forces would be on their way.

I'm dead, Solomon had said once. I'm supposed to know a few things.

Alouzon drove on. "Didn't you say once that the G.o.d dies and is reborn, Dindrane?"

"Indeed. Surely. But Solomon . . ." The priestess pa.s.sed a hand over her face, struggling with her griefs. "But Solomon was a man, and not a very good one at that."

I'm supposed to know a few things.

"Maybe so," said Alouzon, "but I think he had more to him than we gave him credit for." The front alignment of the VW had been thrown completely off, and the car shuddered down the asphalt as though shaken by a terrier; but Alouzon forced herself to accelerate. "I think he's still got some things to do. You might find that your devotion wasn't so misplaced after all."

She prayed that her words-and her suspicions- were right. For now she was following Solomon's advice and his offer of help. She was heading for the cemetery where he was buried.

* CHAPTER 22 *

Heartbeats before the sun rose over the eastern plains of Gryylth and severed all connection with Los Angeles, Kyria and Jia ran out of the gate in the Camrann Mountains. Panting, her robes soaked with sweat of her magical and physical exertions, the sorceress collapsed into the arms of Santhe and Marrha.

"I was afraid we had lost you, beloved," said Santhe. His strong arms upheld her, and his smile, though strained, was as much a tonic as the cup of water he held to her lips.

She drank. "No," she said between breaths. "Almost, but not quite."

"What of Alouzon and Dindrane?"

"They stayed behind to draw the Specter away from us."

Santhe looked grave. "They are truly heroes."

"Dindrane, perhaps, is a hero," said Marrha. "But Alouzon is a G.o.ddess."