DEATH OF A SORCERER 

Copyright 1995 by Wendy Welch Lee.  Characters copyright their respective
companies and used without permission.

*** 

"Xerxes, if this is successful, I'll be the most powerful sorcerer to 
have ever lived," Mozenrath commented jauntily to his familiar as he 
descended the stairs.

He was lugging a huge book down the stairs.  So large it nearly 
unbalanced him several times, it was bound in black leather and sealed 
with silver locks.  He was breathing hard by the time he reached the 
bottom of the stairs and had to lean against the wall a moment to catch 
his breath.  

He pushed away from the wall and by the dim glow of the lamp Xerxes 
carried in his teeth, he found the bookstand and dropped the book onto 
it.  A cloud of dust stirred up by the impact made him sneeze.

He leaned on it a moment before pushing his hair out of his face.  He took
a deep breath and stepped back.  A few words of arcana, a pass of his hand
over the book and the locks sprang open.  He opened the book to the place
marked and read over the spell.  He nodded then went around the bookstand.

He gestured with his right hand and the floor began to glow.  Dimly at 
first, then the light burst forth to spear its way toward the ceiling 
high above.  A five-pointed star in a circle appeared on the black 
marble at his feet.  With other gestures and more words spoken in a 
rough language, symbols appeared in the proper places. 

Mozenrath circled the glowing pentcle as he examined his handiwork.  He 
made an adjustment here and there, all the time careful not to break the 
circle.  

When he was satisfied with the symbols and wards of power, he returned 
to the bookstand.

"This is it, Xerxes," he said, barely able to contain his excitement.  
"The most horrible creature known to exist and I'll have the power to 
control it."  He leaned back and looked at his familiar.  "Are you 
ready?"

Xerxes bobbed up and down in agreement, setting the light to flickering. 
Mozenrath rubbed his hands together and began reciting the spell.

*Yli maf giben o 
llae ra ew 
Eme vol uoy 
Uoye voli!!!*

He repeated the spell the requisite number of times as required, 
accompained by the proper gestures.  At first nothing happened, but then 
a wisp of smoke trailed from the center of the pentagram.  He continued 
pouring his heart and soul into the spell and the wisp became a cloud.  
A wind sprang up and twisted the cloud into grotestque shapes as it 
thickened.  Oily and greasy, it was a sickening purple color with 
streaks of green.  It started to assume a horrid form, vaguely human but 
larger and with a misshapen head and what appeared to be a tail.  The 
cloud obscured it from view and allowed only glimpses of its true form.

The cloud continued to gain substance as Mozenrath chanted.  It grew and 
grew, even as it became more and more real.  Finally, with a sickening 
*pop!* it became real.  Mozenrath stopped chanting and leaned against the 
bookstand and panted with exertion as he watched the birthing of this demon
he had called forth.

The cloud dispersed and revealed the creature's true form.  Mozenrath's 
eyebrows shot up as someone started singing.

*"Dah dah dah 
dah dah dah..."*

Mozenrath clutched his hands to his head as the terrible sound wormed 
its way into his brain.  "NO!" he screamed.  He fell to his knees as the
thing kept singing.  

He looked up at the horror he had created and stared at it with fear plain
in his large eyes.  Purple and green, it looked like nothing he had ever
seen before.  One huge dental appliance gave it an expression like a
grinning death's head.  Its eyes were flat and lifeless and it swayed back
and forth as it sang:

*"I love you,
You love me..."*

The creature stopped singing and looked down at him.  "Hi," it said with 
an insane giggle.  "My name is Barney.  Want to be my friend?"  It 
reached down a misshapen paw and Mozenrath scurried away, out of reach.  
His eyes went wide as it followed him.  He shook his head in disbelief 
when it stepped over the circle and started for him.

"No, no, no!" he cried as he scrambled to his feet and retreated up the 
stairs.  "Stop!  I command you!  You must do what I say!"

"But I just want to be friends," it said in that insane voice.  "Friends 
don't tell each other what to do; they ask."  It started up the stairs 
after him.

Mozenrath backed up the stairs and tried to blast the thing, but somehow 
his magic didn't affect it.  It was out of his control and trying to 
consume him!  He tripped on his cloak and slid down the steps towards 
it.  Before he could recover himself, it was upon him, picking him up in 
a bone-crushing grip.  

He struggled and managed to break the thing's hold on him, but as he 
tried to get away up the stairs, his foot twisted and he slipped over 
the edge of the stairs.  He hung in mid-air a moment before plunging to 
the cold marble floor below.

Xerxes screeched, and dropped the lamp.  It crashed on the floor as
he zipped over to his master and hovered over him.  Mozenrath lay
motionless on the floor as the great purple demon looked down at him.  

"I guess he didn't want to be friends after all," the thing said.  It 
shrugged and turned and continued up the stairs.  Xerxes looked back to 
his lifeless master and buried himself under the cloak as the screams and
wails of terror from the Mamluks drifted from above.  There came that
hideous song once again, like a death chant for the Lord of  the Black
Sands.  Xerxes shivered as he made out the words:

*"I love you, you love me..."*
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