A primordial smell, the dust of ages, the sulfurous smell of the fires that gave birth to the Cosmos itself …
He had it. There were two overriding “odors” to this place, and they seemed to emanate from the same location. He strode off toward it.
The Hall Of The Brain
“Kwip, wake up.Are you okay?”
Kwip’s eyes fluttered, then opened. He saw Linda’s face.
“I’m not in Hell, then?”
“Hell, no,” he heard Gene say.
He sat up and looked about. Jacoby was eyeing him suspiciously.
“What happened?” Kwip asked.
“We were going to ask you that,” Gene said.
Snowclaw dug a finger in his left ear. “My darn ears are still ringing.”
“I think I’m going to be deaf for the rest of my life,” Linda said.
“Huh?” Gene said.
“I said, I think I’m going to be …Oh, be quiet.”
Kwip got unsteadily to his feet. “I’m mystified,” he said. “I’d fetched my rucksack and was walking out again when I heard a hellish din.”
“It came from this chamber,” Gene said. “It was unbearable where we were. I can’t imagine what it was like here.”
“Aye. Fell into a swoon, I did. Thought I was dying.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Aside from feeling a mite shaken, I think not.”
Gene pointed to the jewel. “Maybe it’s none of my business, but did you screw around with that thing?”
“I’m not sure I take your meaning.”
“What was the idea with the pickax?”
“I thought it would be useful in climbing the rock. You seemed to have a bit of trouble up toward the top. But then I lost heart and put the thing in my rucksack to keep against an hour of need.”
Gene shrugged. “Okay. As I said, it’s probably none of my business.”
“No offense taken,” Kwip said with a forced smile.
“Yeah. Well, if you’re okay, the first thing we have to do is —”
“Gene, look.”
“Huh?” Gene saw Linda pointing toward the door and spun around. About a half-dozen helmeted soldiers were already through the entrance, swords drawn. They weren’t castle Guardsmen.
Kwip drew his shortsword and backed off. Gene unsheathed his broadsword and did the same, while Snowclaw advanced casually toward the edge of the circular stone floor.
“There’s only a couple of ’em,” Snowclaw said, beckoning. “C’mon, guys.”
Gene and Kwip exchanged glances, then stopped their retreat. Linda and Jacoby ran to get behind them.
The soldiers had seen Snowclaw immediately, but were only now appreciating how big he was.
“Whattayasay, soldier boys?” Snowclaw called. “How’s the chow in the army these days?”
That slowed them up. One of them, presumably the leader, spoke.
“You! Whoever or whatever you are, put down your weapon!”
“Can’t hear you,” Snowclaw said. “Come closer.”
The soldier advanced. “I said —”
Snowclaw took a wicked practice cut. The broadax whistled through the still air. “What, this thing? I use it to cut my nails. Need yours trimmed?”
Four of them reached bottom and fanned out. The leader and another soldier approached slowly.
“All of you! Put down your weapons. Now!”
“By what authority do you order us about?” Jacoby protested.
“By the grace of His Royal Highness Vorn, Prince and Heir Apparent to the Siege of Hunra, Son of the Goddess-Empress, and Conqueror of the Western Dominions. You are his prisoners.”
“Don’t be silly,” Snowclaw said. “You can’t take us prisoner.”
The leader stopped. “Eh? Why not?”
“ ’Cause you gonna die, hairless. Arrrrrrrrrauuuuuuughhhh! ”
Snowclaw’s charge was lightning fast. The soldiers who’d flanked him barely had time to react. The leader had none. Snowclaw decapitated him neatly, then turned on the noncom, who managed to escape the same fate by stumbling and falling at just the right time. The ax blade missed his skull by a hair’s breadth. He scrambled away from Snowclaw’s follow-up, and by that time two of his comrades had arrived to back him up.
For Gene the suddenness of Snowclaw’s attack was a shock, but when one of the two remaining soldiers came at him, he responded as best he could, though he could do little but clumsily parry his opponent’s expert attacks. It was all he could do to keep running backwards in a big circle.
“Linda, help!”
“What’ll I do?”
“I don’t know! Something!”
“But … but — Oh, wait. How about —”
Gene backed into something hard and hit his head. He winced, looking around. He was inside a huge transparent bubble shaped like a bell jar. He reached out and touched the inner surface. It felt very hard.
The soldier was momentarily nonplussed, but recovered and took a swing at the miraculous shield. The sword blade glanced off sharply and the weapon went flying out of his hand. He hurried to retrieve it.
Gene saw that three other soldiers had come running through the doorway and were making their way down the stone terraces.
“Linda, get me out of here!”
Linda said something, but he couldn’t hear. He shouted and pounded against the inside of the jar. She got the idea, twitched her nose, and the bubble vanished just in time for Gene to fend off his opponent’s renewed attack.
“A crossbow!” Gene yelled.
“What?” By this time Jacoby had dragged Linda all the way back to the black rock.
“I need a weapon! Gimmie a crossbow! Materialize it —” Gene ducked a vicious sideswipe. “Materialize it in my hands!”
“What’s a crossbow?”
“It looks like a bow and arrow but —” He ducked and backed. “Jacoby! Tell her what a crossbow is!”
Instantaneously a crossbow lay cradled in his arms. “Yeah!” he shouted, backing off. The soldier saw what Gene had and broke off his attack.
Gene examined the weapon he held. Although he saw that the bow was cocked and ready, he hadn’t the slightest idea of how a crossbow worked. His opponent realized this, and charged. Still backing away and wishing he’d asked for something different, Gene pointed the thing at him and frantically groped for a trigger or releasing mechanism. His hand found a curved wooden tab on the weapon’s underside. He pressed it. There was a twanging sound as the bowstring snapped. Gene looked up. A metal rod was growing out of the soldier’s throat. The man dropped his sword, choked and spat blood, then fell.
Gene looked at the crossbow. Wicked, he thought, then wondered how the thing was cocked. He noticed a wide metal loop at the front, and it occurred to him that perhaps you were supposed to put your foot in that and somehow —
He heard Linda scream and looked. One soldier held a knife to her throat, while a comrade had Jacoby pinned to the floor.
A voice behind him: “Drop your weapon or your friends will die!”
Gene let the crossbow clatter to the floor. He turned to look at the soldier who’d said it, discovering that the man hadn’t been speaking to him, but to Snowclaw.
The great arctic beast stood near the headless bodies of two of Vorn’s infantrymen, his broadax raised high. Two more soldiers flanked him, swords drawn.
“They will all die!” the first one shouted.
“Snowclaw, you better do what they say,” Gene said. “You, too, Kwip.”
Kwip dropped his sword.
Snowclaw growled, then said, “Aw, Gene, we can take ’em.”
“No way, Snowy.”
Snowclaw snorted and threw down his mighty ax.
The soldiers were looking toward the door. Gene turned and saw a woman in a bright orange gown slowly walking down the terraced slope. She held her arms straight out, each hand holding a long metal rod that pointed forward. Her line of sight was aligned intently between them.