Like So Much Dust

Like So Much Dust

chapter 7

I

I’m exhausted. And scared. Please, let’s just hide somewhere.”

Lilia ignored Vera’s glum appeal, having heard it scores of times before. She had even grown sick of threatening the woman. And it wasn’t in her nature to soothe people’s fears.

More than an hour ago, she’d told the doctor, “We’ll be at our destination soon, so just wait a little longer.” It was safe to say Vera had cause for grumbling. A number of times they’d encountered the castle’s soldiers and monsters. All the soldiers had been slain, and they’d managed to make it past the monsters to get this far. Lilia no longer knew how far they’d walked, how many stairs they’d climbed, or how many times they’d changed moving sidewalks. She’d done well to make it this far with the doctor, who hadn’t stopped shaking since Lourié had gone missing.

“Well, we’re here. The Promised Land!” the Huntress said, taking Vera by the arm and giving a toss of her chin toward the door ahead of them.

“Where are we?”

“Gilzen’s bedroom.”

Vera reeled. Unable to regain her bearing, she was about to drop to her knees. Her fear and shock were so great she’d fainted.

Quickly catching Vera, the Huntress shook her violently. When the doctor managed to open her eyes, she told her, “The next time you shut your eyes, I’ll bite you!” and revealed her fangs. They were the real thing.

Vera froze, but she didn’t look away. Instead, her teeth chattered as she said, “What’ll we do if Gilzen’s in there? There’ll be hell to pay!”

Was this the same brave doctor? Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Wherever we go, there’ll be hell to pay,” Lilia replied. “Besides, this isn’t Gilzen’s main bedroom. It’s just one of five other resting places he has. The owner’s not home, and they say there’s no better place for a burglar to hide than in the king’s chambers!”

“But—”

“Enough! Come on! You’re really pissing me off!”

She knew under normal circumstances she’d have long since abandoned the doctor. But she couldn’t do that because of her instructions from the gorgeous young man. Though she’d also been bitten by Gilzen, she’d barely come under his influence. The same should’ve been true for D. Yet whenever Lilia’s eyes fixed on that gorgeous visage, his patinaed voice came back to her. The harder she tried to drive it away, the more vividly it came back. Lilia had the feeling she’d become a slave to his mysterious beauty, body and soul.

She checked the surveillance devices with an electronic sensor fastened to her belt. Even if the master of the house wasn’t in, the defenses should still be active. The sensor informed her that the surveillance devices were not operating. It wasn’t that she didn’t find that strange, but Lilia was also thoroughly exhausted.

Having Vera wait there, she gave the door a determined push. It opened easily. The bedroom was so opulent it made Lilia’s eyes bug. Naturally, there were no windows or mirrors. The bed was a golden coffin.

“That’s odd.”

She’d actually uttered the words this time.

Vera stiffened. “What . . . What is?”

“I don’t know. I just sense something. This was probably a mistake. Let’s get going.”

“Huh?”

She turned to the doctor, who convulsed with fear—and then saw a shadowy figure standing by the door.

“Just perfect,” Lilia muttered, weariness rising from the bottom of her heart.

The creature garbed in bizarre armor could only be an alien foe.

As she pushed Vera out of the way, Lilia simultaneously drew her longsword. The sword dashed out like the wind, batting away the iron arrow that was flying at her. Another came—and she instinctively dodged it. As she dived off to the right, she extended her left arm. The gas-powered arrow launcher that covered it from the elbow to the wrist sent an iron arrow at the alien’s solar plexus. Though they weren’t as heavy as the alien’s, her arrows could reach supersonic speeds.

The alien’s longsword flashed out, batting away one arrow, but a second one scored a direct hit. When the enormous figure dropped roughly to one knee, Lilia sailed through the air to attack with her sword. It parried, but too late; the power from the Noble blood Lilia had received drove both the parrying blade and her own into the alien’s head. The alien howled.

“Gah!”

Covering her ears, Lilia reeled backward. The alien’s cries had become supersonic waves that tortured her eardrums.

The instant she desperately planted her unsteady feet, Lilia was assailed by a horizontal slash. Gritting her teeth against the terrific pain, she felt dizzy as she made a panicky leap back. Her waist struck something. The coffin! Her upper body arched back far, splayed across the coffin’s lid. The enormous figure filled the Huntress’s field of view. It was leaping toward her. She was in no position to dodge the longsword it had raised high.

Once again, dizziness dragged Lilia into darkness. Fighting it for her very life, she opened her eyes.

The cause of a second scream from the alien had left it hunching over her. The two of them were locked in a sort of embrace atop the coffin, but Lilia shoved it off for all she was worth. It rolled right off her without offering any resistance. A long spear jutted from its back.

The twitching body quickly grew still. After ten thousand years, death had come to take this visitor from another world.

Lilia looked at the Grim Reaper. Another figure stood in the doorway. Its gigantic form was identical to that of the recently deceased. Perhaps it was Gilzen’s DNA in her blood that told her the figure’s nature in a flash.

“Which kind are you? Plain old-fashioned alien? Or are you one of Gilzen’s servants?” she asked as she felt the blood dripping from her midsection. The stench of blood pricked her nose.

“You are an intruder in Duke Gilzen’s resting place,” the featureless figure said. That gave her the answer.

“Hey, we’re on the same side then, aren’t we?” she said, pointing the tip of her sword at the foe on the floor.

Tilting its head a bit to one side, the new foe said, “On the same side? You are an enemy of Duke Gilzen.”

“No, I’m totally under his control, you know? Say, where is Duke Gilzen now?”

A strange killing lust swelled from every inch of the alien. The crossbow on its back crept up toward its shoulder.

“Wait just a second. I’m on the same side you are!”

“On the same side?” it asked again, but its murderous intent didn’t lessen.

“Yeah—look!”

Lilia lowered her scarf. It was unclear whether or not the alien looked at the teeth marks she exposed.

“Why have you come here?”

“I spotted this creep,” Lilia said, looking down at the corpse. “Tailing it led me here. I think it must’ve noticed that this was Duke Gilzen’s bedroom. It sure is a good thing you came along.”

There was the whirr of what sounded like a motor, and the alien’s crossbow changed its location. It pointed right at Lilia’s heart.

“Just a sec—what’s all this?”

“Those teeth marks aren’t Duke Gilzen’s.”

“Oh, aren’t you the observant one.”

Lilia thought her blood would freeze solid. Given the speed of the crossbow, there was no chance of dodging its arrow.

Her world darkened unexpectedly. Apparently the effects of the alien’s scream still lingered. Staggering, the Huntress slumped against the coffin. Her left hand brushed something hard. If she were shot through the heart, would she still be able to counterattack? She wasn’t sure that she could.

But no arrow was fired at her.

What in the—?

Her foe was shaken. A second later, her Huntress instincts told her why.

“What’s the matter?” Lilia asked with feigned intimacy. “Go ahead and shoot already! That is, if you don’t mind the off chance that you’ll hit the coffin of your precious Duke Gilzen.”

The alien didn’t know what to say. The crossbow on its shoulder trembled, manifesting the alien’s vacillation.

“If you don’t say anything, I’m not going anywhere. Want to try and make me move?”

The alien’s right hand went for the longsword on its hip. It quickly switched to the firearm on its left side. Removing that, too, the enormous figure stepped forward. It intended to get rid of Lilia with its bare hands. It headed right for her with broad strides. The floor quaked.

Just as the alien’s gigantic form filled her field of view, Lilia shouted, “Come and get me!” Grabbing something with her left hand, she pulled it out and made a thrust straight ahead.

Though it tried to stop, the enormous form’s inertia wouldn’t allow it. The same long spear it’d driven through one of its own kind now pierced the pit of its owner’s stomach. Thanks to the added weight and speed of the creature, it poked out through its back. Loosing an unholy cry, the alien arched backward.

Her ears already covered, Lilia dashed over to the doctor. Vera was slumped on the ground after hearing the supersonic waves. The enemy was still groaning. Lilia gave the woman a kick. She came around for a second, then fainted again.

“Oh, damn you!” the Huntress growled, grabbing Vera by the arm and standing her up. Still, the doctor was unsteady on her feet. Lilia threw her over her shoulder. The Huntress’s wound screamed at her.

She ran for the door. The enemy was desperately trying to extract the spear. She didn’t expect that blow to prove fatal. Sooner or later it would pull the thing out and come after them.

Lilia went through the doorway. She ran haphazardly down the corridor. Overhead, there was the sound of flapping wings closing on them from behind. Before she could lie flat on the floor, she felt impacts on her right shoulder and through Vera’s body over her left. The doctor let out a scream.

When her body was hoisted into the air, Lilia didn’t resist. To the contrary, she found it a welcome change. The flying creatures were no doubt carrying prey back to their nest. While she couldn’t exactly say this was preferable to doing battle with the alien, she’d also have had a hard time denying it. Also, it was easy.

They skimmed along just shy of the ceiling, and then suddenly the whole world opened up. Daylight and snowflakes surrounded them. A tremendous feeling of release coursed through the Huntress’s body. They were outside! They’d soared all the way up to the castle’s summit. Far off through the blustering snow, mountain peaks and the land around them came into view.

Suddenly they began to descend. The vast rooftop was drawing nearer. Atop it Lilia could make out a round nest fashioned from timbers and iron beams. Looking up at them were chicks—they were the size of human children, somewhere between a bird and a beast in appearance.

“Thanks for the ride!” Lilia exclaimed, changing to a backhanded grip on the sword in her right hand and jabbing backward with it decisively. Her thrust was instinctive, but it made contact. The bird let out a definite cry, then released the two of them.

They fell ten feet. Lilia had estimated the fall wouldn’t be too bad. Fighting back the impact reverberating through her gut, she straightened herself up and broke into a run. Beside her, dark brown forms spread enormous wings as they took to the air. They’d smacked right into the nest. Even the weird chicks were trying to flee in confusion.

“Sorry,” Lilia whispered, and then she dashed toward the opposite side of the roof. When she got there, she took Vera off her shoulder and sucked in a deep breath. Snowflakes blew at her.

“That feels good,” she said, letting the truth slip out.

From down at her feet, she heard Vera whimper, “What happened? Where are we?”

“Up on the roof. It’s okay, I think we’ve been saved.”

“But the snow—we’ll freeze!”

“You’re a doctor, right? Why’s dying the only thing you ever think about? We’ve got to keep moving toward life!”

Lilia spread her right hand. Squeezing the snow that accumulated on it, she made a small lump that she popped into her mouth. A chill spread through her, numbing her all the way up to her head.

“Proof that I’m alive.”

Her muttered remark was inspired by a hazy gray shape she made out fifteen to twenty feet away. An exit hatch from the roof. After a bit of rest, all the women had to do was go down through it. Of course, if they rested too long, they’d turn into snowmen.

Lilia thought about eating another piece of snow. Squeezing it together, she brought it up to her mouth. Her hand halted. She didn’t even feel the chill from the ball of snow against her lips.

The shape of the exit hatch had changed. Something stood in front of it. Something that spread its massive wings. Suddenly its wings flew off to the right. And with them went its long beak and body.

“Give me a break,” Lilia murmured, because the thing that’d just thrown the bird out of the way was a creature that’d been brought here in its talons—reason told her that must be the case.

It had already freed itself from the long spear. Undoubtedly it would need little time to heal its wounds. Upright and proud, like a temple guardian, it walked toward Lilia with a gait that made it clear the creature brimmed with confidence and a desire for slaughter.

It was the alien loyal to Gilzen.

II

“What am I going to do?” Lilia murmured, and then she laughed. Perhaps at the rock bottom of despair, there was nothing left but laughter.

“It came . . . Came right after us, didn’t it . . .”

Vera’s words didn’t even bother her.

“It’s no use . . . We’ve had it . . . We’ll be killed . . .”

“Yeah, probably. Just give up, okay?”

Lilia wasn’t being snide. That seemed to be the natural answer.

This brought about a change in the situation. Vera suddenly stood up and started climbing across the castle wall. She was aided by old-fashioned loopholes for bows and guns. Putting her hands and feet into them, the doctor already had one leg over the edge by the time Lilia turned around.

“Is she crazy?” the Huntress muttered, putting her own feet into the loopholes and grabbing hold of the doctor’s ankle with her outstretched hand. Just as her fingers stretched for another hold on Vera, she found herself leaning away from the wall, bent at the waist. Behind her, the alien had its longsword raised to strike. A cry rang out. There was the sound of something slashing through the wind, then sinking into the castle wall. Should Lilia have been happy to have dodged that fearsome blade, or scared because she’d now lost her balance?

The doctor and the Huntress plunged headlong down into a world where the blizzard danced wildly. The impact was surprisingly light, but deep. The pair had landed in the snow. Working their arms and legs like mad, they crawled back toward the surface. They were soon out.

Looking up at the castle, Lilia could see the roof about sixty feet above them. If all this snow hadn’t slid off the back side of the roof and accumulated there, they probably would’ve been killed on impact.

“I can’t believe it. I wonder which one’s blood I have to thank for this?” the Huntress muttered to herself, and just then, Vera screamed right behind her.

“Coming from the castle—”

“What?”

Lilia turned her gaze back toward the castle, where she witnessed a puff of snow shooting up a few yards from them. She was at a loss for words. The swirling snow burst apart. It went without saying what emerged from the newest hole in the snow.

“That bastard just doesn’t give up!”

Lilia got to her feet, longsword in one hand.

It came at her from the right. She blocked its blow. The impact left her shaky. The blade the creature drew made a horizontal swipe at her torso. That, too, she parried, but she hadn’t managed to plant her feet. She was sent flying a good fifteen feet, where she sank into the snow.

“Vera!”

The enemy was closing on the doctor. Lilia pulled a knife from a sheath she wore on her right hip and tossed it. It landed right beside the doctor. Whether Vera noticed it or not was the question.

The enemy raised its longsword to strike. Unable to make a sound, the woman quaked, and her body blurred. It wasn’t due to the snow. Once again, the high-speed vibrations had come over Vera.

Before her foe, who grunted in confusion and hesitated for a moment, the woman returned to her normal form. Her eyes gleamed. These weren’t the eyes of a woman who could do nothing but cower. Her left hand reached into the snow beside her. Slipping under the enemy’s blade with perfect timing when it was thrust at her with deadly intent, Vera stabbed Lilia’s knife into her foe’s abdomen.

The enemy hunched forward. A blow with average human strength probably would’ve bounced off the alien’s armor. However, the high-speed vibrations had caused a change in the doctor, imbuing her slim arms with superhuman strength.

As Vera stepped away from her toppled foe, Lilia raced over to her. The deep snow caught at her feet. When she finally reached the doctor and took a position in front of her like a shield, her own knife sank into the snow before her. The enemy had recovered. Kicking up snow, it charged at them.

“Are you up for this?” Lilia asked.

“Of course!” Vera replied.

“Good!”

The two of them dove in opposite directions. The longsword that swung down between them cut ten feet into the snow. The weapon whipped around to the right. Lilia was the target. The alien had decided it would be best to get rid of her first, and it wasn’t mistaken on that count.

A black arrow flew out of nowhere. Unerringly true, it penetrated the alien’s chest from behind. The enemy was normally on guard against sneak attacks, but these two women were overly formidable opponents. It couldn’t afford to ignore them—and that had allowed an enemy behind it to make a move.

Lilia and Vera were equally surprised. They could’ve understood if that had happened inside the castle, but now they were outside. Who could’ve . . . ? Then they realized something. Before they’d reached the castle, someone had slain the mountain folk with arrows. Hadn’t that been Lourié’s father?

There were strident sounds. A second and third arrow had been batted down. At a distance that was impossible to judge due to the blizzard, Lilia was able to detect a hazy form.

Letting out a single groan, the enormous figure charged toward it. The sight of it struggling to pull one leg after another from the thigh-deep snow as it closed on its opponent was comical in spite of the alien’s rage and murderous intent. When it had advanced thirty-five or forty feet, a figure popped up at the alien’s feet and drove the long spear in his right hand up through the enormous creature’s crotch. It was difficult to say whether the weapon penetrated the alien so deeply due to the strength of the spear or the force of its wielder. It had struck the enemy in a vital spot. The enormous figure trembled. Green blood poured down like a waterfall on the spear wielder.

On seeing that, the doctor shouted, “Dust?”

It was unclear to the women where he’d been or what he’d been doing. The bald bodyguard let go of what was apparently a homemade spear and tried to extricate himself from the snow. The snow collapsed. When the man stopped moving, this time the enemy thrust its blade deep into his chest. Dust arched backward. The sword blade rose for another thrust.

A gunshot rang out. The right half of the alien’s face had been blown away.

Vera threw herself at the creature’s legs. Reeling unsteadily, the enemy swung its blade around. Vera bent backward. The snow that fell on her back was stained red.

The gigantic figure advanced, moving right toward the doctor’s cries.

Above the alien’s head, a crimson flower sailed through the air. The instant her leap went into its descent, Lilia delivered the coup de grâce she was aiming for. Her blade came down with every ounce of her strength behind it—and her foe’s head split all the way down to its chest. She put her weight behind the sword. In a single motion she split the creature all the way to the crotch. When she pulled her green-gore-spattered form up from the snow, the body of the foe she’d split vertically slowly spread down the middle, then flopped down in the white snow. It didn’t move a muscle. The alien fiend had finally been destroyed.

By the time Lilia had dashed over to them, both Dust and Vera were barely breathing. Lilia desperately fought back a sigh. To be killed so easily now—what had they been fighting for all this time, then?

“Sorry you had to see me . . . not quite at my most civilized,” Vera suddenly whispered in a surprisingly steady tone.

“Don’t say that—you only did what was right,” Lilia said kindly. She couldn’t even believe she was saying these words. Was it the influence of the young man’s blood? Or was it just—

“How about . . . Dust?”

In a pained voice the village guard replied, “I’m still kicking, Vera—and thanks. For covering for me like that, I mean.”

“The least I could do . . . by way of apology. I . . . Three years ago . . . I let your daughter . . . die.”

“Don’t talk!” Lilia told the woman as her eyes were drawn to the shadowy figure approaching from up ahead.

“It’s okay . . . Let me say this . . . Three years ago . . . grade-school children from the village climbed the mountain . . . And I went along as the doctor . . .”

And then, a mountain tiger had attacked them. Although the teacher and bodyguards had fought the beast, a seven-year-old girl had lost her life.

“The girl . . . was killed right beside me . . . And I couldn’t budge an inch . . . I was so scared . . . She was Dust’s daughter!”

Lilia looked down.

“It’s okay now . . . You protected me . . .” Dust said gently. As if those words were all he had to offer the dead.

Vera shook her head from side to side. Tears fell from her eyes.

“Lilia . . . the coward you saw . . . that was the real me . . . But I . . . I really didn’t want to die . . . I still don’t . . .”

“You were the brave little doctor, right up to the end,” Lilia said, taking Vera’s hand and giving it a shake. She could feel no throb of life in the cold hand.

“I want to live . . .” Vera said flatly. “To live . . . longer . . . And I want to treat . . . children in the village when they’re sick . . . I’m the doctor . . .”

Her voice swiftly grew thin. The strength drained from her body.

“Vera . . .” Dust murmured. He gazed at Lilia. “I wanted to tell you this . . . but Vera and I . . . We were husband and wife . . . But when that happened to our daughter . . . we broke up . . .”

Lilia didn’t say anything. The tragedy of three years earlier had dragged on, and here it would finally end. Dust shut his eyes. Taking his right hand, Lilia wrapped it around Vera’s hand that she’d been holding.

“Goodbye,” she said. There was nothing else to say.

But someone else had something to add. From beside Lilia, a voice said, “It’s still too early for that!”

III

The instant their blades locked together, the Hunter felt that Gilzen’s strength surpassed his own. But D had greater speed. Parrying the Hunter’s blow, Gilzen put his weight behind his blade and forced it back through D, but the man in black broke free and made a slash at the Nobleman with ungodly speed. Gilzen groaned. Beneath his rent cape his clothes too were split open, and fresh blood spilled from him.

As if to crush that disgrace, Gilzen lashed out with his blade. Clangs rang out from steel on steel to the accompaniment of showers of sparks, and every time the figures in gold and black changed direction like the wind, their murderous intentions shifted as well.

“Urrh!”

With a cry that sounded like his abdomen was about to burst, Gilzen struck at the Hunter, and D parried. Gilzen smashed into the Hunter shoulder first. A normal human D could’ve easily deflected, but this was someone with the monstrous strength of a vampire—and D was knocked backward, impacting on a stone wall. As his body sank, he made a horizontal swipe of his sword. Having casually pressed forward, Gilzen found his right knee devastated, sending him reeling backward.

“Gaah!”

While he listened to a howl worthy of a beast, D also heard the grinding sound of sliding stonework behind him.

Gilzen smirked at him.

“Did you bump the door controls? Have a good look, D! See what the interior of my reactor is like.”

Not turning, D reached back with his left arm and held out the palm of his hand. Behind him was a white-hot river of slime. From an unknown source to an equally unknown destination, the goop that could only be described as boiling sludge coursed from right to left.

“This is no nuclear reactor!” Gilzen said. “Initially I used nuclear power from a light water reactor, but through torture I obtained the secrets of the aliens’ energy. D, this is the core of a galactic drive!”

It was a writhing, foamy river of white-hot slime that crept by, bubbles bursting—but D didn’t know whether or not it flowed all the way to the far side of the Milky Way. However, when the young man pulled his left hand back after no more than the span of a breath, his expression contained only a beautifully frightening air of the supernatural and nothingness.

“If you were to fall into it, you’d be banished to the ends of the galaxy. What say you, D? Will you not calm yourself and aid me in my aims?”

D leapt into the air. As he avoided the blade being swung straight down at him, the Hunter also changed the angle of his own attack, and Gilzen rubbed his empty hand against his right cheek. Wiping up some of the blood that spilled from his deeply carved flesh, he put his fingers in his mouth and licked them.

“Just what I would expect from the Sacred Ancestor’s sole success. When I first laid eyes on you, even I had to wonder if perhaps he had truly chosen the correct path.”

The duke’s eyes had begun to give off a terrible light. Blood light.

“Oh, my!” the hoarse voice said, sounding frightened. For a new air had begun to spill from Gilzen, one both unknown and unimaginable.

“However,” Gilzen continued, “I regret that now. I’m forced to by the alien power that fills every inch of me. Look, D, at the wounds you dealt.”

The Nobleman didn’t need to tell him. D had seen with his own eyes how the wounds to Gilzen’s abdomen and knee, as well as the one the Hunter had just left on his cheek, had all vanished without a trace. Even considering the Nobility’s startling regenerative powers, such a recovery was impossible.

“Oh, how it fills me! The energy of another world, fostered on the far side of the universe. D, experience it and die!”

The Nobleman spun himself around as he swung his sword hard at the Hunter, but this was no longer the same Gilzen. Still poised to parry, D was sent flying backward a great distance. The blade didn’t touch him, yet his black garb split open in a straight line. Not only that, but the Hunter’s blood went flying as well.

As D landed, the hoarse voice said to him in a cramped tone, “Cut you in exactly the same place, didn’t he?”

Before it had finished speaking, Gilzen charged forward with a deadly flurry of blows—D parried or dodged them, but was driven back to the brink of the boiling sludge.

“Have at you!”

Striking from a high position, the sword blade suddenly swished down low, shooting up from below in a scooping motion. Blood spouted from D’s right knee. It had been a blow neither his fighting instincts nor his reflexes had been able to stop. As the Hunter staggered, heat struck his back.

“No place left to go!” Gilzen jeered. In his eyes, D was no longer an opponent. The Nobleman’s eyes had the look of a huntsman who stands before a wounded beast. Confidence, frenzy, and murderous intent were there—and he raised his sword beside his head like a bat. And then he switched the blade to his left hand with unbelievable speed, to be driven straight down—right at Gilzen’s feet.

The shadow cried out. It was a cry of agony to make anybody’s hair stand on end.

“G-Gilzen . . .”

“Imagine finding you still lurking about, Mother,” Gilzen said unpleasantly, never taking his eyes off D. His face had begun to depart from human lines, but expressions only a human face could wear surfaced on it, alternating between looks of love and hate. “Your son has become a new sort of Noble, fundamentally changing the very nature of the Nobility. All the old things are fated to be disposed of. That includes you, dear Mother.”

The shadow’s voice could no longer be heard. Gilzen stepped off to the side. A small shadow remained at his feet. It quivered two or three times, then moved no more.

“I’ve done away with my mother,” Gilzen said proudly. “The one who held me back, the traitor who schemed to have me banished to the far reaches of the Frontier! D, don’t even think of asking how I could do such a thing to my own mother.”

Once more, the Noble raised his sword by the side of his head. D held his blade out straight in front of him, aligned with Gilzen’s eye.

“I’ll have your head, D. Know that the blood that drips from it will create a new chapter in the history of the Nobility.”

The figure that charged forward was an enormous mass of energy. D didn’t flee, but rather ran forward too. As they passed each other, the cutting sounds overlapped. When D turned to look back, his left arm was missing from the elbow down. However, Gilzen had slumped over badly.

“D . . .” he groaned, green blood flowing from his mouth. Then his head fell off—right into the stream of white sludge. When the splashes from the torso that followed it had subsided, D finally let the strength drain from his body and simply gazed at the sludge.

“He said that was the energy of the galactic drive,” the hoarse voice murmured. “Will Gilzen’s damned head and body be carried to the ends of the universe?”

D turned around. “I must thank you,” he said in a low voice.

There was no one before him.

“Why didn’t you hit me with a psychic attack?”

A voice issuing from nothing replied, “My aim from the beginning was the duke.” The source of the voice had to be the man known as Budges.

The instant the two combatants had made their final exchange, Gilzen’s movements had frozen in an unnatural manner, and in that heartbeat D’s blade had flashed out.

“You’ve seen how the duke acted,” Budges continued. “That’s why I did it.”

“And it never occurred to you to take me out while you were at it?”

“You left me no opening. Besides—”

“Yes?”

“I once had an audience with the Sacred Ancestor. He was so much like—”

The voice stopped there. D’s eyes had given off blood light.

“Oh, those eyes . . . Just a glare from them makes even bodiless me feel like I’m being physically torn apart. Come to think of it . . . Could you really be . . . Could your highness be . . .”

Returning his blade to its sheath, D bent down and retrieved his left arm from where it lay at his feet. He lined up the wounds.

“What’s this?” the hoarse voice cried out, and a tiny face surfaced in the palm of the Hunter’s left hand. It furrowed what might’ve been its brow, or perhaps just more wrinkles.

The arm wouldn’t fuse at the elbow.

“What the hell!”

“It’s the way Gilzen cut me,” D replied stoically. Anyone who didn’t know the young man’s true nature would’ve thought this exchange some sort of joke or parlor trick. “It’ll reattach sooner or later. It’s just that it may take a day, or a week, or a month.”

“That ain’t good. In the meantime, if you were to get—” The left hand suddenly held its tongue. It’d recalled the presence of the formless being. “At any rate,” it continued, “Gilzen’s been slain. Meaning your work should be finished. Let’s get going.”

“I have something to do first,” D said, putting his left arm into an inner pocket of his long coat. “I heard that Jeanne had the child. Where are they?”

“Come with me,” the formless voice told him.

wJust as Gilzen had said, Lourié was in one of the castle’s rooms with Jeanne. It was the infirmary. Jeanne continued to give makeshift medical care to the large number of wounded soldiers, while Lourié learned by watching her, and also pitched in.

“This child is more suited to doctoring than I!” Jeanne said proudly, rubbing the top of the boy’s head. “So much so that I’d love to keep him here in the castle to focus on treating the injured. How would you like that?”

When she smiled at him, Lourié backed away. Her fangs frightened him.

“I’m joking. Go with him,” she said, pushing the boy in D’s direction. Jeanne then asked, “What do you intend to do about the castle?”

“I’ve done what I was hired to do,” D said softly. “You can live here or move somewhere else, whichever suits you. But if I’m asked to slay the lot of you, I will be back.”

“It seems it would be best if we went back to sleep, wouldn’t it?”

In response to Jeanne’s remark, Budges said, “It certainly would. If we sleep for a million years, the world will probably change some more. Perhaps the time of the Nobility will have returned.”

“Or maybe no one will even remember ’em.”

Jeanne’s eyes were riveted to the breast of D’s long coat. As if in response to her scrutiny, whistling tinged with poorly feigned nonchalance rang out.

“Good point,” Jeanne said in a weary tone. “No one would remember us. Maybe there wouldn’t even be anyone left at all.”

D turned without saying a word. The boy followed after him. The two of them went down the corridor without a backward glance. It was then that Lourié recalled something and proceeded to tell D all about it.

IV

The snow still swirled in savage confusion, turning the roof of the castle into a white peak. At the top of that mountain a diminutive form climbed through the snow to place a pair of small wooden plaques. Folding his hands together before the modest grave markers, Lourié recited a short and simple prayer before going back down the snowy incline to D. The snowstorm was returning the sparkle to the world. Dawn was near.

“That keeps my promise to Mr. Crey.”

“I’m going down the mountain,” the Hunter told the boy. “I don’t have time to look for your father now, but I’m sure someone else will be coming up here.”

The Nobles who’d returned to life wouldn’t be left to their own devices. Humans were no longer powerless. Perhaps D envisioned the future destruction of the castle.

Lourié nodded. “I know. I’ll come up again on my own. Besides, I get the feeling I know what I should do just from having been up here.”

D gazed quietly at the rosy-cheeked boy. “When I visit the village again someday,” he said, “I’ll probably find a fine doctor here.”

Sobbing a little, Lourié said, “But I’m not all that smart!”

Something that bordered on the miraculous occurred, though the boy probably didn’t realize it. D extended his right hand and rubbed the boy’s head.

“I don’t know how smart you are, but you’re brave,” he said. It was a low and cold tone, yet still gentle. “Braver than anyone.”

Lourié grinned. His little face was filled with pride. I’ll never forget this, his expression declared. He’d never forget what he’d coaxed from the Hunter—he’d seen D’s smile.

D turned toward the exit from the roof.

“Shall we go?”

“Sure.”

The two of them walked back across the roof. After they’d advanced five or six paces, the door opened and a figure bounded out. It was Jeanne. Half her body was stained with fresh blood.

Seeing the two of them, she shouted, “The duke!”

Lourié froze.

“He took down Budges—run for it!”

From the crack in the door a stark light coursed out, piercing the warrior woman’s heart from behind before stabbing into the ground at D’s feet. It looked more like a long icicle than a spear. The exit from the roof burst outward. It wasn’t an explosion. It’d been blown apart by internal pressure.

Deflecting the flying shrapnel with a single wave of his long coat, D gazed at the enormous golden figure who sailed down onto the roof. His landing made the roof shudder.

Standing there with an icicle gripped in his right hand and a longsword in his left was none other than Duke Gilzen. But how completely he’d changed! Every human feature of his face was warped, with a great chasm stretching from his right eye to his forehead. On the left side of his face the lips were pulled up higher, and the few teeth that remained in his mouth gave a sense less of idiocy and more of ghastly insanity. A twisted hand reached out toward D, and as the figure, badly stooped at the waist, pressed forward on similarly misshapen legs, he was more reminiscent of a spider than a human being.

Where had the galactic drive led Gilzen, and why had it brought him home?

“Back again, Gilzen?” D said, pushing Lourié toward a mound of snow and drawing his sword.

But wait, D! Right now, you lack the left hand that bolsters your regeneration. If you were to fall now, critically wounded, and that limb were carried off, God would be calling a certain gorgeous Hunter back to his reward.

Gilzen extended his icicle spear. Though it looked like ice, it was a collection of free-floating molecules from the air, coalesced into a long spear that was harder than iron. D knocked it away. His blade shattered.

Gilzen also had a sword. When the Nobleman made a diagonal swipe at D, the Hunter parried the sword with his right fist. Catching the blade between his index and middle fingers, he stopped it. As Gilzen was no ordinary Noble, but rather had become a fiend of the universe, it was truly an ungodly display of skill by the Hunter. However, look at how the sword blade split the area between the fingers, slicing through D’s hand almost to the wrist!

Gilzen hauled back with the icicle spear. D had no left hand with which to block it. Letting out a cry that might’ve been a curse on those who were cast out into the Milky Way, and that also seemed likely to drive all who heard it insane, Gilzen tried to thrust his spear forward.

Something happened. It was something to rival even the cosmic terror that lurked in the memory of the Milky Way—a miracle, even. Blood light shot from D’s eyes—and it seared Gilzen’s eyes and brain.

Still sunk in a snowbank, Lourié saw the thing that’d been Gilzen stagger and back away. As if frightened by some tremendously huge power.

D jumped clear, swinging his right hand sharply. Flying from it to pierce Gilzen’s chest was the sword Gilzen had used to split D’s right hand. As the giant grabbed it by the hilt and tried desperately to pull it out, D sprang at his chest. Gilzen instantly vanished. He’d used his ability to teleport. And it put him right behind D. However, D wasn’t there. He, too, had vanished.

Gilzen suddenly stood stock still in astonishment—and D appeared right by his chest. The Hunter’s bloodied hand seized the hilt that jutted from the Nobleman’s chest, and D pushed with all his might. The blade of the sword protruded from the duke’s back.

Gilzen’s body was enveloped by purplish smoke. Within the smoke, a sort of mass began falling away in chunks. Chunks of skin. Of flesh. The disintegration of Duke Gilzen had begun.

“He’s melting?” Lourié said, his eyes riveted—and with good reason. In its death throes, the enormous body let off countless jets of wildly dancing purple smoke, and when they touched the castle walls or floor, the stony material was instantly reduced to sludge.

“D—if the castle melts and the snow melts, the village will be flooded!” the boy wailed mournfully.

“D—D!” called out a voice that could only be Gilzen’s. “Ah, D! I am undone. How did you slay me? The light in your eyes—was that, could it be, a power the Sacred Ancestor gave you? D, I didn’t ultimately triumph over the Sacred Ancestor, did I? Please, tell me that’s not sooo!”

His voice grew thin, and the giant collapsed. Purplish smoke enveloped his golden cape, dissolving it. It, and everything else.

D ran over to Lourié, tucked him under one arm, and raced for the castle wall.

“Shut your eyes—here we go!”

The two of them jumped.

On the same drift of snow where Lilia and Vera had previously landed, D lightly came to rest. He should’ve sunk down past his knees, but the snow didn’t even come up to his ankles. It was a matter of the way D carried himself.

“D—the village!”

It was unclear what the Hunter made of Lourié’s words, as he didn’t so much as move an inch.

Shrouded in purple smoke up to its very zenith, the castle was swiftly vanishing like something out of a nightmare. As it collapsed, it touched the snowy slope where D and the boy stood—and at that instant, a dazzling light colored the world. Even D had to lower the brim of his traveler’s hat, while Lourié was briefly blinded.

When the world finally began to etch itself into the boy’s retinas again, he said, “The castle’s gone?”

Gilzen’s castle had vanished without a trace.

“And no avalanche or flood, either,” D remarked.

He was right. The snowfield where the castle had stood had only collapsed a bit around the edges, but otherwise retained its original shape. The disappearance of the castle was like waking from a dream, and it had occurred without the need for any energy at all.

As he stood there dumbfounded, Lourié noticed that D had turned around and was facing the other way. The composed relief that filled the boy’s heart at first allowed him to sense the presence of someone behind him. Could it be—

“Dad?”

Though snow continued to fall, there was no wind. Four figures stood behind a veil of white silk gauze. One of them stepped forward, taking on definite shape and color. It was Lilia. The boy stared at her, and then his gaze focused on the remaining three figures. Expectation, curiosity, and fear whirled in his eyes.

“Is my father there?”

“Could be,” Lilia said, grinning thinly. “Haven’t asked him his name, but I suppose the face bears some resemblance. No, that’s probably just my imagination. D, those two in the back are Vera and Dust.”

Not a word from the Hunter.

“The man the boy thinks is his father seems to have the same condition I do. While he was bitten by Gilzen, he didn’t become a servant, but kept wandering outside the castle. He knew how he’d be treated if he were to go back among people, and more than that, he wasn’t sure he could control his own actions. He says he doesn’t remember when or how he came to be here. He also forgets whether or not he had any kids.”

Lourié looked up at the Hunter. “Goodbye, D,” he said.

D’s hand closed on the boy’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, D,” said a shadowy figure through the snow.

“The doctor . . .” Lourié began before calling out her name.

“Dust and I will guarantee the child’s safety. We’d like Lourié here to—”

The boy swallowed hard.

“We were bitten by a man who came up the mountain with your father. But it’s okay; we stopped at the victim stage. And neither Dust nor I have come under the control of that man.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Please, believe it. I have an idea, D: Come stay with us for three days. After that, we’ll disappear into the mountains. If you think we’re acting strangely—or any time you like—please go ahead and kill us.”

“What’ll you do in those three days?”

“Teach this child what I know,” Vera said, her voice quavering with hope. “I can’t go back to the village any longer. I’ll live in the mountains with Dust. We know Gilzen’s been destroyed, but we just can’t go back to being human. Probably because of his alien blood. But it could be years before the next doctor comes to our village. In the meantime, this child will be their doctor. D, I was bitten by this man here, but he was bitten by Gilzen! Being a doctor, I was able to absorb the alien medical knowledge that Gilzen’s blood carried. In three days, I’ll be able to help the child master medical techniques unknown to mankind.”

Snow struck D and the boy on the cheeks. The wind had begun to blow.

“Just three days, D. And someday he’ll go to the Capital. When he does, the human race will begin to learn a new kind of medicine. At the hands of this child—won’t that be wonderful?”

“Leave it to us, D,” the figure who was apparently Dust said, nodding.

D’s response came quickly. “What’ll you do?” he asked Lourié.

The boy’s decision was also swift. “I’m going with them,” he said with a firm nod. He was a child of the Frontier, and though he was afraid, he still had hope and believed in himself.

“I think I’ll keep you company.”

The two of them started walking. Lourié turned and looked, raising one hand to the rooted Lilia.

“Goodbye, miss.”

Waving back with a wry grin, Lilia could only watch through the gusting snow as the tall man’s shadowy form faded from view.

“This isn’t the end, you know,” Lilia said, putting her right hand against the white scarf. “I’ll thank you to remember who gave me one of these kisses. Someday, we’ll meet again somewhere out on the Frontier. When we do, if I’ve become one of the Nobility, I’ll die by your hand.”

The Huntress’s voice melted into the snow.

All the human shapes were swallowed up by the whiteness, and shortly thereafter the sole remaining figure turned around and buried herself in the snow that even now continued to fall.

the end