Destroyer of Worlds

2

Deep in the heart of the forbidding swamplands, Callow finally paused and removed the lantern from inside his jacket. He was afraid of retribution — his knowledge of the persistence of Brothers and Sisters of Dragons was extensive — but he was filled with an eager glee for his own retribution.

Sitting cross-legged next to the soupy water, he examined the Wayfinder's blue flame. 'Oh, the wonder of it all — a genie in the lamp, and a Brother of Dragons to boot. Can you hear me, little man?' He roughly rattled the lantern in front of his face. 'Sadly, I am a mortal like any other, and prone to the melancholies of all men. And yes, the desire for a touch of revenge for being so badly treated. And I have been, oh, how I have been! During that terrible Age of Misrule I was manipulated… possibly brutally coerced… into helping those misshapen monsters, the Fomorii.

'And did the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons forgive and forget? Did they respond to my plight, and offer a friendly hand in answer to my humble admission of my wrongs and my plaintive desire for redemption? No. They punished me, and brutalised me, and eventually took my sad, sad life. And these are Champions of Existence! How ironic. It is through their cruel machinations that events have conspired to keep me trapped in this hideous place.' He paused slyly. 'Or should I say your machinations? It is unfortunate that you will have to pay the price for their sins.'

Callow did an excited jig before calming himself. 'Now how should I do it? Fling the lantern into one of these sucking pools and watch it disappear for ever? Then you would understand the kind of purgatory I have experienced for so long. Or should I smash it and watch the flame flicker and die?' He considered this for a moment, and smiled triumphantly. 'I think that would set my world alight.'

Drawing one of the many razor blades he had secreted about his person, he attempted to carve his name into the lantern, but he could make no mark on the shiny surface and the razor blunted within seconds. He tossed it angrily into the water where something snapped and spat.

'I was just a humble knight of the road when I met that overinflated Pecksniff Jack Churchill,' he muttered to himself. 'No harm to man nor beast. Lover of the byways, lover of people, a helping hand to all I met on my way. And look what he did to me.'

Callow laid the Wayfinder on the ground, took a running jump and slammed both booted feet upon it. A peal of thunder was accompanied by a fizz of blue sparks. He repeated the assault three times before examining it again. The lantern was dented and the glass on one side was cracked.

'Once more,' he muttered. 'This may well look like a lantern, but I know its true shape is different from what I see. Yet here in the Grim Lands it is as vulnerable as anything from the places where the living roam. Yes, I think once more will do. I'll say goodbye to you now, oh genie. Enjoy the great hereafter.'

Laying the lantern down once again, he paced out a long run-up and then, with a grim smile, hurled himself at the Wayfinder. At the point when Callow hung above the lantern, a column of Blue Fire engulfed him and hurled him back to the edge of the swamp water. Callow let out a high-pitched, shocked scream.

It was only when he picked himself up that he realised the flames were cold, and had done little more than propel him away.

'So it's a fight you want,' he said, drawing up his sleeves. 'We'll see how long you can keep that up in this place.'