Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

worst. Doing his duty. Dying by inches along with his ship. And sometimes thinking, just a little wistfully, that Frost would have loved this.
    Out in space, the Ashrai were dying in their thousands, but the majority still hurled themselves upon the Enemy in wave after wave. Once there had been millions of them, all their great race born again, but though their numbers were savagely lessened, still they fought on, soaring through open space like fallen angels, harsh and unrelenting, undeterred by the scale or the terrible nature of their foe.
    And brightest of them all, the man called Carrion, shining like the sun as he
    slammed through space, great energies crackling around his power lance as he attacked ships the size of mountains and of moons. He plunged through one side of a ship and out the other, protected by the power running wild within him, awoken by the Ashrai and confirmed by the Maze. He was tired now, in body and in mind, for all the energies he wielded, and only the strength of his will kept them from consuming him. He was mighty and he was powerful, but he was so very small in the face of the Recreated.
    Hazel d'Ark and Captain Silence and the man called Carrion fought the good fight with all their will and with all their heart, and never once thought of retreating. And if they thought of the time they were buying in minutes now, rather than hours, it did not deter them. They looked death in the eye, and were damned if they'd blink first. So they were all rather surprised when every single member of the Recreated host suddenly vanished, and the battle was over.

    Owen Deathstalker ran back through Time, and behind him came the Recreated.
    Back and back he went, that brave and honourable man, through all the times and places of his past, seeing again all the changes he'd been responsible for. It was like running inside a rainbow, all the colors of his world running together, and outside it a great roar of voices, all speaking together. Owen could hear the Recreated howling behind him in rage and fear, and the sound seemed very small. He ran on, building up his speed, and Time slipped past him, faster and faster.
    He paused briefly on the bridge of the Sunstrider, still in orbit around the Wolfling World. The battle against the Recreated had just begun. He saw Hazel, fighting off uncountable enemies, with limited weapons but unlimited courage, and the sight warmed his heart. He would have liked to stop there for a while,
    just long enough to say goodbye, but the Recreated were very close, and he didn't have the time to spare.
    He ran on, faster and faster, the days blurring around him. He felt strong and determined. He felt he could run forever. Let the Recreated chase him. They'd never catch him. He could feel their rage and hatred behind him, like a great fire beating on his back, and he laughed at them, letting his speed level off.
    He didn't want the Recreated to become discouraged and break off their chase. He had to hold them to him, keep them focused only on him, for however much time it took for the baby to work out its answer.
    As so many times before, everything depended on him, Owen Deathstalker, the last hero.
    He wondered vaguely if he'd ever be able to stop. If he'd have to keep running back through Time forever, to keep Humanity safe. Maybe run all the way back, down all the millennia, to the Big Bang itself… so that he and the Recreated could die together in that primal moment, and save the future for Humanity. That was a long path, longer than he could imagine, but he felt he could run that far. If he had to.
    No. It wouldn't come to that. Owen had faith in the baby. However young he was, he was still a Deathstalker, after all.
    On he ran, and familiar faces and places loomed out of the endless rainbow spiraling around him. Wherever he looked, he saw people he knew. Places he had lived or fought in, some vital, some not. It was like trawling back through his memories, able to see everything, but change nothing. Until he saw one face that was too important to let pass by. Owen stopped his race with a jolt, dropping back into present Time, and materialized in a small bare room. And there, in
    that room: Kit SummerIsle, Kid Death. The man who murdered his father.
    The SummerIsle looked around and saw Owen, and was almost startled out of his usual complacency. "Deathstalker! Now this is a surprise. Everyone assumed you were dead. I'm afraid the Royal Wedding's gone ahead without