“Hey look, if you want, I’ll marry the bitch.”
The man froze, his eyes wide. “You will?”
“Hell, yeah, if you’ll keep your shirt on.”
The man looked skeptical. “What sort of dowry will you demand?”
“Make it easy on yourself. Nothing, if you want. Or her hope chest, what do I care?”
“Done. You have my blessing.”
Three events happened then, almost but not quite simultaneously.
One: Snowclaw’s voice came out of thin air.
“Gene! I’m coming, pal!”
Two: a short, chubby young woman in a blue hooped gown and décolletage came bursting through the double doors in the left wall of the outer room. Following close behind was a thin, dissolute young man dressed in lavender pantaloons, hose, and white puffed-sleeve blouse. At the sight of Gene, an outraged father, and the unexplained hole in the drawing room wall, his pale eyebrows rose. He lifted a monocle.
“How very interesting,” he said.
“Father!” the girl shouted indignantly, her multiple chins quivering. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Turning, the man said, “Corabella?” Then he saw the count and drew a sharp breath. “You!”
Three: Snowy materialized in a dead run and slammed into Corabella’s father, sending him cartwheeling across the room.
Snowy was a little disoriented. “Hi, Gene,” he said. “Hey, I really did it!”
Corabella screamed. On Gene’s side of the portal the walls turned milky and began to waver.
“Snowy, quick!” Gene reached across and tugged at a handful of Snowclaw’s fur. Snowy got the idea and leaped across the boundary.
Darkness.
“Snowy?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Where are we?”
“The portal shut, and this room’s a dead end. Jesus, that was another close one.”
“You’re probably going to ask me where the hell I came from.”
“Well, now that you mention it,” Gene said.
“I was in that cage right up until a few seconds ago, and now I’m here. Just before that happened, I could see you. I wanted to help you, and suddenly I was here, helping you.”
“Congratulations! You got your magic power. Teleportation!”
“No kidding? Hey, that makes me a real magician, don’t it?”
“It sure does, big fella. Now, if we can get out of this hole.”
As if on cue, an oblong of light materialized to the left — an opening, leading into familiar castle architecture.
“Here we go,” Snowclaw said. “By the way, what was that scene all about? Looked like fun.”
“Seventeenth century Italy, maybe, but nobody’s ever said anything about time travel, so it must’ve been some goofy variant. I don’t know. We gotta find Linda.”
“I think I can do just that,” Snowclaw said.
Donjon, Then Chapel
Jacoby stopped to examine a few of the curious torture devices that filled the room. He had known immediately what they were, though he was not certain how most of them worked or what torments they were designed to inflict. Some of them looked positively diabolical in intent. Looking them over, he felt a curious ambivalence — an amalgam of dismay and approval. These were but tools in the ungloved fist of power. There was no mercy in this room, only the certainty of punishment for trespasses against the ruling order. There was no compromise, and no escape.
He strode through a block of cells. The straw in them looked fresh, and he wondered when the facility had last housed prisoners. Everything looked perfectly functional, ready for use. But that was no different from the usual state of things here; he had never seen anything in the entire castle that looked worn-out or dilapidated, even though the place was reputed to be thousands of years old.
He left the donjon and searched for stairs. He had had his fill of the cellar. Besides, he needed food. He regretted losing Linda. No one had seen the cook for the last few days, but the Guests’ dining room had been laid out with enough nonperishable items to last for weeks. If he could get up there —
The floor began to shake, and the stone walls shimmered. Jacoby dived to the floor, buried his head in his arms and rode out the disturbance.
When he thought it safe, he climbed to his feet and looked about. The tremors seemed a little less intense in this area of the castle, thank heaven for that. He was in a large high-ceiling chamber. It was dark, and he had to squint to pick out some detail in the far wall. He saw what looked like enormous cast-iron doors, similar to those on great cathedrals. He walked toward them.
Suddenly, a thin bright vertical line of light appeared between the doors and began to widen. Slowly, ponderously, the enormous entrance swung open, revealing an interior flashing with yellow-orange light.
“COME FORWARD!”
Jacoby’s heart froze. It was the loudest, most terrifying voice he had ever heard. Stiffly, he turned and started running, but there was nothing but darkness back where he’d come from. He stopped and slowly turned to face the hellish light.
“WE BID YOU ENTER. OBEY NOW, OR INCUR OUR UNSPEAKABLE WRATH.”
Jacoby tottered forward. The color drained from his face, and beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead like condensation on a pitcher of ice water.
He passed through the huge iron doors into a vast cathedral. Looking toward its farthest end, he beheld what had summoned him. He sank to his knees and averted his eyes.
“WE ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR OBEISANCE. ARISE, SERVANT, AND BE INFORMED OF A BUSINESS OF GREAT MOMENT.”
Jacoby got up on shaky legs. He could not bring himself to look directly at the beatific visage behind the plumes of smoke and the tongues of fire.
“KNOW THAT SOON, VERY SOON, THIS HOUSE SHALL FALL. IT WILL VANISH, AND WITH IT ALL WHO DWELL WITHIN. TELL US NOW WHY THIS FATE SHOULD NOT BEFALL SUCH A ONE AS YOU.”
Jacoby nearly swallowed his tongue before he could get out, “Oh, Great One … if there were any way that I might be spared —”
“THERE IS. YOU WILL BE CHARGED WITH A TASK. UPON ITS COMPLETION YOUR WORTHINESS WILL BE JUDGED ACCORDINGLY.”
Jacoby’s eyes were desperate. “Anything, Great One! Anything!”
“YOUR WILLINGNESS PLEASES US. DO YOU STILL BEAR THE FRAGMENT OF THE BRAIN OF RAMTHONODOX?”
Jacoby fumbled in his suit, finally bringing forth the crystal. “Here it is, Great One — I did not steal it! I swear. In fact, I took it from the thief himself! He —”
“THE MATTER IS OF NO GREAT IMPORT. WE ARE WILLING TO FORGIVE PAST TRANSGRESSIONS IN LIGHT OF SERVICES PERFORMED ON OUR BEHALF. ATTEND US. YOU WILL PROCEED AT ONCE TO THE NETHERMOST REGIONS OF THE CASTLE. YOUR FOOTSTEPS WILL BE GUIDED ALONG THE PROPER PATH. YOU WILL BE CONDUCTED AWAY FROM THIS HOUSE TO A PLACE OF SAFETY. THERE YOU WILL AWAIT OUR PLEASURE. YOU MUST HENCEFORTH GUARD THE FRAGMENT WITH YOUR LIFE, OR YOUR DOOM IS SEALED. SPEAK NOW, AND TELL US YEA OR NAY.”
“Yea!” Jacoby squeaked. “Oh, yes! I shall be infused with holy purpose! Nothing shall divert me, O Great One! Even if —”
“ENOUGH. BEHOLD.”
The glossy floor quaked, heaved, then shattered, a huge crack appearing and widening rapidly. Smoke and occasional bursts of flame issued from the jagged chasm that soon gaped wide.
Jacoby fell on his buttocks. “Good Lord! ” And then, muttering bitterly, “This is absurd!”
“ARISE,” the voice commanded. “COME FORWARD.”
He got up and moved reluctantly to the edge of the pit. A rough stone stairway descended into it.
“YOUR JOURNEY MAY BEGIN. THE WAY WILL BE MADE CLEAR, AND YOU WILL BE UNDER OUR PROTECTION AT EVERY STEP. DISCHARGE THIS OBLIGATION, AND YOU WILL FIGURE HIGH IN THE NEW ORDER.”