Chapter 4
"Cered!" Schala screeched, tumbling out of the Gate in the middle of the corridor on the upper floor, closely followed by Marle, Crono and Lucca.
"Desert rose?"
Her husband nearly broke out of Ceredan and Janatzer's room, falling down before Schala and grabbing her trembling shoulders.
"What is wrong, love?" he worriedly demanded.
"Janus, he was lost where I went…" Schala croaked, shivers running through her entire body.
"But he is well here…" Cered said in a soothing voice after a moment of shocked silence.
One thing to give that man, he could control himself almost inhumanly well sometimes.
"We have to help him or Molor will loose!" Marle called, stumbling to her feet.
"Mother?"
Ceredan came out of the same room his father had left, still pale and with tears for a dead brother blemishing his young face.
"Schala, get a grip!" Lucca said, trying to calm the woman, "you have to focus!"
"Yes… yes, you're right…"
Cered gently helped her stand, then the blue-haired woman could walk by herself. They all hurried into Janus and Molor's room.
Marle let out a shriek and so did Ceredan. Lucca almost fainted, Crono backed in horror, Cered paled and Schala nearly dropped dead.
Eerie, damp light fell through the curtain, giving the whole scene a ghostly glow, like a newly opened tomb.
Janus laid stretched out on his bed unconscious, his face pale as a skull. Molor's long, black body was wrapped tightly around the warlock in a seemingly deadly trap. Blood lazily trickled down and spread over the blanket, leaking out from the snake's mouth that almost appeared to be closed over Janus' right upper arm.
"I… I'm sorry, I forgot…" Schala stammered in a weak voice.
Marle spun around and dove back into the corridor, fighting with all her might not to retch. She and everyone else had seen a lot of wounds in their days, but just the way that Molor seemed to have bitten off the arm, still holding it in place with his long teeth, was so disgusting that even the warriors' stomachs wanted to turn.
"The powers bless fate for not bringing Schaliya here…" Cered mumbled in an unsteady voice, quickly turning his son around and pushing Ceredan out of the room.
Assembling the last pieces of mind she could grip Schala stumbled over to the bed and fell to her knees by the horrifying scene.
"I'll have to help Molor…" she croaked, shaking as she gripped the pendant hanging around her neck.
"Thou art in no shape for this, sunlight!" Cered warned, his warm hands gently grabbing her shoulders.
"I know, but I have to, Cered…"
"Shh…"
Whispering calmingly Crono's ancestor pulled up his wife against his familiar, strong heartbeat.
"Thou musteth assemble the power thou hath first, less we will fall."
Leaning against her husband Schala took in a few deep breaths, waiting for her pulse to become slower and her head to clear.
Finally she nodded, but Cered still kept his hands on her shoulders to reassure her strength as the woman once again closed her hands around the magical accessory she wore.
"You can't have him!" she hissed, focusing all her will.
Rays of light from the pendant shot out through the cracks between Schala's fingers.
Cered gently caught the blue-haired body as it slumped; an empty shell. But the fine fingers kept their grip of the magical jewelry.
Magic slashed through the air and met claws, gigantic hands parried wave upon wave of fire.
For some reason Janus' protector had taken his dragon form, but he wasn't larger than a horse. Perhaps it was because of the alien's grip of the mind the war was waged within.
Molor's blood-red wings swept out, the claws on their corners cutting into a floating blob each. Lavos growled in pain and raised a hand.
"Ahh!"
Schala stumbled into the dark world just in time to see her brother powerlessly writhe in pain as a ghostly light flowed out of his hanging form towards the distant combatants.
Molor was thrown backwards and Lavos attacked him with new energy.
"Coward!" the dragon hissed.
"Did you expect me to play fair when I have an expendable source of power?" the parasite smirked.
"Leave him out of this!" Molor roared and lunged at his foe.
Janus' head slowly swung back and forth, spasms going through his lightly transparent body every now and then. Schala rushed over to him, rather floating than running. Helplessly she gazed up at him; he seemed as unreachable as he had been for her mother and Lizard. He wasn't slumping on his knees yet, for the moment he was hanging with his arms stretched out. Almost as if he was put on a cross of death. Schala shuddered at the mental image.
"Janus, can you hear me?" she whispered, afraid that Lavos would attack her if she was discovered.
His eyes were closed, a tortured grimace disrupting his face.
Once again he groaned and struggled as yet another dose of light left him.
He turned a little more transparent and sunk a few inches towards the ground…
Schala's gaze flew to the battle; Lavos was attacking Molor even more furiously, even though the dragon still held his stance he wouldn't hold out for long if Janus' life force kept refilling the demon.
"So that's how…" the princess hissed.
"No!"
The cry sent shivers through Schala's soul and she helplessly reached up for Janus.
"I'm here, what's the matter?" she whispered.
His head wobbled, the grimace growing tortured beyond compare.
"Not Schaliya…" he croaked in a broken voice, "don't let Schaliya…"
"Janus!" Schala called, forgetting carefulness in her fear, "Schaliya isn't here! She's safe! Can you hear me?!"
"Schala… no…"
Slowly Janus' eyes cracked open and he gazed down at her, only a hint of his red irises visible between the slits.
"We have to do something, have to get you out of reach from Lavos!" she whispered, reaching up.
To her relief she could indeed touch him, but it was like putting a hand against a pile of leaves.
"Can't move…" he slurred, "too weak…"
"I don't know anything about these things, Janus!" Schala helplessly croaked, "how can I help you?"
He shook his head; clumsily moving his head from side to side.
"Molor could but… he's busy," he muttered, "you… need my power…"
"But you were drained, how…"
"There's a little left… but I don't have it…"
"What?"
"You wait for your turn!" Lavos roared.
Schala spun around, but his force threw her backwards and out before she could parry. With a shriek she sat straight up in Cered's arms.
"What happened?!" the conscious humans around her shouted in alarm.
"I'm fine, but Molor is loosing…" Schala muttered in a broken voice.
There's a little left, but I don't have it…
"What did he mean?" she whispered in confusion, helplessly massaging her forehead.
"How is Janus?" Cered grimly asked.
"Not good… this isn't my area!"
Schala reached out in despair and grabbed her brother's slumping shoulders.
"Janus know how to work minds, I don't! What did he mean?!" she croaked.
"Mean with what?" Lucca harshly demanded.
"He said we needed his power, that there was a little left but that he didn't have it. I don't know what he meant!"
"Schala…" Cered helplessly said.
"What can I do, Janus?!" the blue-haired woman called to the pale, lifeless face before her, oblivious to everyone else.
'Lady Schala!'
They all jumped at the mental call, it was lightly said clumsy.
'What?' Schala replied, searching for the source of the sound.
'Canst thee hear me?' the female voice asked with relief.
Wait a…
'Lashey?' Schala said in puzzlement.
'Yes, 'tis I. What is happening?'
'How do you do that?' Crono quickly cut in, 'I thought you didn't know any magic.'
'So is the truth,' the empress grimly replied, 'the power is not mine but from the brooch Janus gave me.'
"The brooch…?" Schala whispered aloud.
She straightened up, wild hope lightning her eyes.
"That's what he meant!"
'Lashey, I'm going to teleport you here,' she called in her thoughts, 'Janus and Molor are in grave danger, we need that brooch!'
'Very well, hurry then!' the empress quickly agreed.
Schala's chanting was almost too quick to hear.
Theoretically the teleportation spell didn't work on people that weren't in the caster's closest area, but keeping a firm grip of the mental call Schala managed to establish an anchor.
A swirl of light shot up from the floor in the middle of the room, taking a human form. As she fully appeared Lashey stumbled but managed to keep her balance by grabbing the edge of Janus' desk.
She was older, of course. It had been seventeen years.
Her once freely falling, black hair was put up in a typical Garadian hairstyle; black silk ribbons and jeweled, golden needles keeping it in place. Instead of the simple red dress she had worn all those years ago she now carried a mostly blue, exaggeratedly designed and embroidered cloth. One could surely read a part of the empire's history in the folds.
The most notable thing on her face was a bruise on the left side of her head, almost touching the eye. It was seen through four lines in her pale make-up; almost as if she had torn her fingers over it in rage over the hiding or in despair.
"Here, what canst be done?" she said with a light gasp after the hasty transport.
Almost tearing she ripped her long right sleeve upwards to reveal her hand the little snake-formed brooch in it. The jewelry was glowing tiredly, almost like Janus' eyes when he was troubled.
"Molor is fighting an intruding mind for Janus' soul, but he's loosing since the demon is absorbing my brother's power," Schala quickly explained, "we need to try to help Janus move himself out of reach."
"How shall we do that?" Lashey asked, walking up to the blue-haired woman's side.
Strangely, she didn't seem to shun as much as the others at the sight of the state of snake and warlock. But perhaps she was too determined to help.
"I'll try to figure out why you can use its power later," Schala grimly said and took the empress' hands, "as for now… magic is a great deal of will and imagination of the consequences. I want you to imagine Janus, hanging in a great darkness as if he was crucified on an invisible cross."
"Very well," Lashey nodded, closing her eyes with a frown.
"Keep focusing on that," the princess from Zeal instructed, "we'll focus our power into the brooch. It's going to feel warm when we manage. When you feel that, keep concentrating on Janus but add streams of light reaching out for him. That'll lead our power to him."
'Hopefully,' she silently added.
Lashey just nodded, her frown growing deeper and her hands clutching the brooch. Looking around Schala received determined nods from her friends and family.
They all closed their eyes, concentrating on the brooch.
Its heritage from Janus' hair and own magic made it a connection to the warlock, stronger than anything anyone else ever could have created. But just sending power to it wouldn't help, it would just stay there. So it was up to Lashey to send it onwards.
Schala could of course have tried to channel the power onwards by herself, it could have been a safer way since she at least had experience with magic. But there was a risk that she wouldn't be able to invoke the brooch's power; the empress on the other hand had already proved that she could. Though it was risky, time was running out.
If anyone still had had their eyes opened they would have seen the light that even enveloped Lashey's fine hands and the edges of her sleeves. Slowly the light began to drip down onto the floor, gracefully slithering up on the bed and there flow into the air to rain down over the human body.
Afraid of loosing their chance none of the humans dared opening their eyes for a stretched handful of seconds, forcing more and more of their strength towards the goal they didn't even know could be reached.
But all of a sudden they all looked up in surprise, the light faltering to nothingness within a heartbeat. All because of a raspy voice speaking.
"That's enough."
"Molor?" Schala, Cered, Ceredan, Lucca, Marle and Crono moaned in defeat, nearly dropping to their knees in the devouring hopelessness.
Beaten.
The black head swayed a little just above Janus' chest; the snake seemed a bit disoriented.
"Careful," Lashey gently said, "less thou will crush thyself."
"Easy for you to say," Molor's voice gruffly said.
But there was a softer edge in the words.
Slowly Schala and her allies looked up again.
The snake was very carefully, clumsily unwrapping its body from the human's.
"This isn't easy in case you think so," the raspy voice commented, the cold eyes flicking with concentration.
He gave a short, dry chuckle.
"Molor was right when he said the human language burns his throat…"
"Janus?"
"I had to go somewhere, and this is probably the safest place there is right now," the warlock in the snake's body replied, trying to force a faint smile into existence.
His borrowed lips weren't well suited for it however, and he wasn't really in the best mood either.
"Thank all the powers you're alright!" Schala nearly shrieked, wrapping her arms around the black neck.
"Lightly spoken, Schala…" Janus softly said, leaning his black head against her shoulder.
"We thought you were a goner!" Lucca breathed in relief as Ceredan sunk down on his knees to also hug his saved uncle.
"Well, it's not over yet," the warlock grimly said, shaking his head, "Molor hasn't won yet though he also got power from you."
He glanced up at Lashey as his nephew let him go.
"Thanks, I suppose," he said with the gruff voice once again.
The empress gave him a rather strange, somehow knowing smile.
"Now let me try to work this out," Janus added, a little too quickly.
Nobody commented, wisely, as the warlock carefully moved and finally managed to unwrap his borrowed body from his real one. Somewhat clumsily he slithered down on the floor.
"How do you feel?" Schala worriedly asked, putting her hand on his neck.
He shook his head, opening his mouth a bit in a sort of grimace.
"Could be better…" he bitterly muttered, "Lavos fooling me all these years, Molor risking his soul for me and my mouth is full of the taste of my own blood. Ugh…"
Everyone dove to their knees to catch him as he swayed. Keeping his head low instead of at his friends' knee height Janus grunted a bit.
"I'm just disoriented in this body…" he assured.
"I'll get thee a little water," Cered said and hurriedly left the room.
A cold eye tiredly looked up at Schala; Janus wasn't used to the position of the eyes and turned his whole head to the side to look at her.
"I don't know what good it'll do but I think we better seal my body, just in case."
"I'm not in an idea mood right now, too tired," Schala sighed and rubbed her forehead, "suggestions please?"
"Usual magic won't hold him…"
"We'd need something that not even Janus can break, that would be a good start I suppose," Lucca said.
Schala was silent for a moment. Then she stood, holding up her pendant again.
"Well, it might not hold Lavos but I have something…" she grimly said.
"Heh…" Janus grunted.
"Sorry about this," the blue-haired woman grimaced before she began muttering in a low voice.
On a final wave with her hand red tentacles swept up from the mattress and clung onto the body's wrists and ankles.
The old gift from Dalton.
"I don't know anything stronger than that," she strengthened her apology.
"I think we should get out of here," Marle suggested, looking away from the bloodied holes in the warlock's arm with a shudder.
"Watch out, I can't really control Molor's body," Janus tiredly grunted and tried to slither over the floor.
He managed, but clumsily. Luckily there were no furniture in his way.
Eventually they made their way into Janatzer's room. Though being in the same room as a dead body didn't feel pleasant, leaving him alone felt utterly wrong. And it was the room farthest from the soul battle, at least on the second floor. None trusted Janus to be able to get the borrowed body down the stair without a catastrophe.
During Schala's absence Cered had swept up his dead son in a blanket to make him look a little better. Where the stretcher that Janatzer was lying on had come from, the wife didn't know but it didn't matter.
"Oh dear…" Marle mumbled, "I'm sorry."
Crono and Lucca silently nodded.
"We'll think of something," Schala tried to ensure everyone.
But she wasn't sure at all. Janus had been the only one she knew with enough power and knowledge to perform a resurrection, but now not even their combined power led through him would be enough. The fact that Janatzer had been dead for a while wasn't helping, speed was important when bringing someone back to life in good shape. She didn't want to have a zombie as a son.
Cered came into the room, carrying a bucket of water. Non-ceremonially Janus plunged his whole black head into the liquid to seep it up; he was too exhausted and worried to care about grace.
After a few seconds the humans began to wonder if he was trying to drown himself, but he soon enough came back up and the bucket was pretty much empty.
"Better?" Cered asked.
"A bit," Janus muttered and heavily laid on the floor.
To everyone's surprise he didn't protest when Lashey sat down and began to dry off the remaining water from his head with her long sleeve.
"I am sorry for what happened," the empress said in a bitter voice and glanced at Cered and Schala, "I could not stop my husband when he ordered thy son to the front line."
"It's not your fault," the blue-haired woman gently said.
"This might not be the time," Janus muttered, "but where is Schaliya and Glenn?"
Schala stiffened and looked away, Crono and the women from his hometown stared at the floor.
"Aha," Janus bitterly grunted, "I see. It was true."
"What was true?" Schala whispered.
"You heard me scream in there," her brother grunted, "he was keeping me in the state he desired by showing me what he planned. I had a feeling it could be a vision of a possible future."
"Lizard and mother… they saved you."
"They came, did they?"
Janus shook his head a little.
"That I did not see," he said, "I did see Schaliya come out victorious though, if that's the word. It was almost too much."
He somehow managed to grimace a little.
"Can only hope she'll be alright now."
"What did she…" Lucca began, but fell silent as she heard a crash from the corridor.
They all stiffened and looked up, staring at the door.
Finally Cered held up a hand and clenched his teeth as he walked over to the exit. He slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
For seconds that seemed like ages everything was silent. Then came a blessed familiar voice.
"Damn human legs!"
The door swung open to reveal Cered doing his best to support the heavy, staggering body of Janus. The eyes in the pale face were normal; not engulfed with red light. Rather frustrated though.
"How do you humans manage to walk on these things?" Janus' voice grunted with a tone belonging to none but Molor.