They left very quickly, not bothering to take their leader’s body or his mount.
He breathed deeply, tasting the mountain air. Then he resumed his Journey.
The cave was high on the descending slope, its entrance hidden by gnarled brush. He unsaddled his mount, set the beast free, and entered the cave mouth. The way was narrow at first and he had to stoop, but soon there was ample head room, though not much light. He walked in darkness awhile, finding his way from memory, his fingers lightly brushing the smooth rock walls. At length he saw light ahead, coming from a side passage. He turned the corner and beheld cut-stone walls, jewel-torches lighting a way into the castle.
After taking shortcuts which only he knew, he arrived at his chambers. He went inside, locked the door, shed his costume and donned another, that of a castle functionary.
The voice spoke to him again.
You have returned.
“Yes. Are there any further developments?”
I feel there must be. I sense an impending end to my bondage. Someone calls to me, I know not who.
“Have more memories returned to you?”
Not many. I feel, though,that it is only a matter of time.
“Do you know your name?”
There was silence, then: No.Will you tell me?
“No, but there are those who will.”
He left by a secret panel, threading his way through narrow passages until he came to a dead end. He shoved against a large stone block and it moved, swiveling on a central fulcrum. He pushed it open a crack and paused, looking out, then stepped into the hallway. The stone swung back and became a blank wall again.
A door lay to the left. He opened it and went inside.
The library was vast and many-volumned, shelves rising several stories to the corbeled ceiling. He strode across the main floor and entered an area where free-standing stacks stood in rows. He walked down the central aisle, turned left at the thirty-fourth row, and followed the shelf to its end, coming out into an aisle running along the wall, against which was set a row of carrels. He chose one and seated himself. He withdrew the scroll from his tunic, took it out of its sheath, undid the ties and opened it.
He took a deep breath, scanning the first few lines. It was written in a script he couldn’t immediately decipher, but a translation spell would take care of that.
Wearily, he rubbed his eyes. He had only an inkling of what he was after. A key; he needed a key to unlock a mystery — then to close it up again, once and for all.
Perhaps the answer lay in this ancient book. Perhaps not. Time would tell, and he had so very, very little of it.
Keep — Somewhere
They’d been wandering now for at least a day. Last “night” they’d bedded down in a storage room full of odds and ends. “Today” they’d encountered evidence of recent flooding.
Gene waded through the puddle of brackish water. The carcass of another large sea animal lay beached nearby, an oily gray mass in the shadows. It stank.
“I wonder if it was a tidal wave that slopped through one of the portals, or something else,” he said.
Linda and Snowclaw avoided the puddle. Linda’s nose wrinkled at the smell. “What else?”
“An incredibly huge aquarium that sprang a leak, here in the castle somewhere?”
“That’s silly.”
“In this place? Nothing is.”
Snowclaw said, “It’s probably what you said, Gene. A leak through a portal.”
Gene whistled and said, “What an incredible place to live. Imagine! You could be sitting around, darning socks or something, and all of a sudden —”
The far wall of the chamber disappeared, revealing a blasted alien landscape. A violent air current nearly swept them into the portal as pressure differences adjusted. Soon the air flowed the other way and waves of heat assailed them.
“Oh, hell,” Gene complained. “The way out was through that wall. Now we’ll have to double back. And there ain’t nothing back there.”
Linda looked nervously out at the dark rocks and bleached sand. “That doesn’t look like a very nice place. I’m for going back.”
Gene sniffed. “Air’s breathable, but it looks hotter than hell out there. I guess we can’t explore it. Unless …” He began walking toward the portal.
“Gene! Where are you going?”
“I’m going to take a quick look. It sort of reminds me of parts of Utah. Maybe —”
Something large bounded through the opening and entered the chamber. It was twice as tall as Gene and ran on two powerful hind legs. Its head was somewhat reptilian, though the eyes, unnervingly intelligent, were set close enough together to afford accurate depth perception. Its skin was beet red and looked rough and dry. It had a long, supple tail, and the claws on its short but sinewy fore limbs curved wickedly. It saw Gene and stopped in its tracks.
So did Gene, but he hit a wet spot and slipped, falling on his buttocks.
The beast eyed him, its blunted snout parting to reveal a gleaming set of caninelike teeth. Then a voice emanated from the cavity: “Look like food, but it speak.” Its voice was several registers lower than human, but intelligible. Taking two steps closer, it said, “You food?”
The beast towered over Gene, who struggled to his feet. “Hi, there!” he squeaked in an almost hysterical giggle.
“Smell like food,” the beast observed.
“Uh … uh … uh …” Gene backed stiffly away.
The beast’s yellow eyes moved from side to side, taking in the chamber, Linda, and Snowclaw. The latter had begun slowly moving toward the thing, broadax raised.
“I not see this cave before. I smell much food.”
Still backing off, Gene drew his sword and pointed it lamely at the beast.
The animal said, “I think you food. I eat.” It sprang forward.
Snowclaw was a blur and a howl. The beast broke off his charge at Gene and turned to meet him, raking forward with its great claws. But in an instant Snowclaw had run by, and the beast’s talons clawed nothing but air. It halted, looking puzzled. A great, raw gash had opened up across its chest, oozing grayish-purple ichor. The beast searched from side to side, then whirled.
Gene saw the great tail sweeping around at him and threw himself flat on the floor. The thin whiplike tip whistled inches over his head. He got up and ran.
The thing charged at Snowclaw, who had begun running in a wide arc back toward it. The beast ran a curving course to intercept, but at the last possible second Snowclaw executed an impossible pivot and leaped in the other direction, making a lightning-quick swipe with the ax. He raced back to the other end of the chamber. The beast did not follow. It turned slowly. Another incision gaped wide, this one running straight across its throat.
“No food?” it gurgled, its visage registering a faintly perplexed expression. It took three unsteady steps forward, then collapsed with a floor-shaking thud and lay unmoving.
Gene and Linda were peeping out from behind the stanchion of the arched doorway.
“You okay, Gene?” Snowclaw asked.
Gene stepped out. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“You were lucky. You wouldn’t’ve had a chance against that thing.”
“I know. You were …” Gene shook his head in wonder. “Incredible.”
“Aw, it was nothing. I’ve tackled worse than him.”
“Fantastic.”
“I’m a hunter, you know.”
Gene looked at Linda, then hugged her, burying his face in her blond hair. Linda hugged him back.
They parted, and Gene said, “I almost couldn’t move. I was totally petrified.”