sick. The language Meshurek was muttering was a form of ancient Gorethrian. The exact sense of it escaped Ashurek, but it seemed full of implications of horror, like a nightmare that cannot quite be remembered except for a sensation of terrible dread.
Meshurek was summoning something.
Ashurek was transfixed, fascinated and horrified, at the door; he could find no power to speak or move. His skull felt like lead. He did not understand what was happening, had no power to alter or stop it. For the first time in his life, he felt fear.
In front of his brother, silver light flared and a figure appeared as if from another dimension. It had a perfectly symmetrical human body that shone with a dazzling argent light; but the light was not beautiful. It burned Ashurek’s eyes like acid, and through the glare he saw his brother ducking and edging back like a cowed servant waiting to be struck.
The room – or his head – was filled with a thrumming like an iron bell vibrating in response to distant thunder. Ashurek felt his skull would surely crack open with the strain. My brother – he thought – what have you done?
Then the being spoke.
Its voice sounded like metal and cobwebs. A voice that could make a word into a real object, a poisoned needle that would slide into the listener’s skin and pin him to some dreadful fate. And it was also hypnotic, and persuasive.
‘You have called me again, Prince Meshurek. How can I help you?’
‘Meheg-Ba,’ the Prince gasped as if in physical distress, ‘I want – I want assurances. Did you hear them earlier?’
‘Hear what, O Meshurek? Calm yourself. Explain,’ said the being. Its broad silver face was stretched in a leer, and the mouth gleamed red as if full of blood.
‘The people – cheering Ashurek my brother. Tomorrow he is to be made High Commander. How much louder they will cheer then… I…’
‘Meshurek, now that you have called me to your service, I can see or hear anything you want me to. Once summoned, I can wander freely on Earth to do your bidding. What assurance can I give you?’
‘I want them to cheer me, not him!’ Meshurek almost shouted, his voice ravaged by fear and greed. ‘The people should love and worship me. I am to be their Emperor – not Ashurek!’
The silver being let out a hiss like an echo of laughter. ‘One thing I cannot do, my Prince, is make people like you. Only you can do that. But listen, I can give you all the power you desire – you know that, for that is the true reason you first summoned me.’
The creature stretched out magnesium-white hands and placed them on Meshurek’s shoulders. ‘You and I together shall be invincible. With such power, I promise you will not care that you are not loved!’
Meshurek’s shoulders shook as though he was laughing. ‘Yes, Meheg-Ba. I trust you. I can make them worship me on a whim!’
‘It was a happy day when you thought to summon me. Now you are destined to be the world’s most powerful man – and the bargain was so simple. All I require in return is the loyalty of you and your family, and to be unleashed upon the world – in your service, of course.’
Ashurek reeled back from the door. In panic – made more terrible because he had never experienced panic before – he stumbled and lurched down corridor as if blind drunk until, somehow, he gained the safety of his own rooms. A minute later the thrumming in his head subsided and he knew the creature had returned to wherever Meshurek had called it from.
Shaking, so weak with dread and terror he could no longer stand, he lay upon the bejewelled and brocaded cover of his bed. He did not understand what he had seen, but it was obvious that Meshurek had ensnared himself in some terrible evil.
Why? he cried to himself. For power? But he is going to be Emperor anyway, by birthright. No – Ashurek could not conveniently ignore the truth any longer. Orkesh was right; their brother was not better. He believed that everyone hated
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