Sweet Jesus, he thought, I have done it now. I should never have left Wyalusing. I should not be here. What will the others think of me, an oaf who can't even hang onto a sword.
He gathered himself for a mighty leap to retrieve the blade, praying that it would not fall so far away he could not get it back.
But the sword, he saw, was not falling. It was still spinning out, a wheel of light that refused to fall, and heading straight for the sloppy-giant. The running giant tried awkwardly to get away from it, but he was too late and slow. The sword edge caught him neatly in the throat and the giant began to fall, as if he might have stumbled in his running and could not stop himself from falling. A great fountain of blood came gushing from his throat, spraying the ground, covering his head and chest. He hit the ground and bounced, slowly folding in on himself, while the sword came wheeling back toward Cornwall, who put up a hand and caught the hilt.
"I told you," Sniveley said, at his elbow, "that the blade had magic. But I did not dream this much. Perhaps it is the swordsman. You handle it expertly, indeed."
Cornwall did not answer him. He could not answer him; he stood, sword in hand, quite speechless.
The loping pack of Hellhounds had suddenly veered off.
"Stand steady," said Hal. "They'll be back again."
Gib said, "I'm not so sure of that. They do not like the sword. They are frightened of it. I wish my ax were as magic as the sword. We would have them then."
"There's something happening," said Mary quietly. "Look, toward the castle."
A ribbon of fog had emerged from one of the castle gates and was rolling swiftly toward them.
"Now what?" asked Hal. "As if we haven't got enough trouble as it is."
"Quick!" said Sniveley. "Get into the fog. Follow it to the castle. Stay in it. The Hellhounds will not dare to enter it. We'll be safe from them."
"But the castle!" Cornwall said.
"We know it's sure death out here," said Sniveley. "For my part, I'll take my chances with the Chaos Beast."
"I agree with Sniveley," said Oliver.
"All right," said Cornwall. "Let's go."
The fog had almost reached them.
"The rest of you go ahead," yelled Cornwall. "I'll take up the rear."
"And I, Sir Scholar," said Gib, "claim a place with you."
They fled down the corridor of fog.
From outside came the frantic, slobbering baying of the cheated Hellhounds.
Running, they reached the castle gate and stumbled through it. Behind them they heard the heavy portcullis slam home.
The castle yard was filled with fog, but now it began to disperse and lift.
Facing them was a row of monstrosities.
Neither group moved. They stood where they were, surveying one another.
No two of the creatures were alike; all were unspeakable. Some were squat, with drooping wings that dragged the ground. Some were semi-human toads with wide mouths that drooled a loathsome slaver. Some were scaled, with the scales falling off in leprous patches. There was one with an enormous belly and a face on the belly. There were many others. All were horrible.
Mary turned and hid her face against Cornwall's chest. Gib was gagging.
Big Belly moved out of line, waddled toward them. The small mouth in the belly spoke. It said, "We seek your help. The Chaos Beast is dead."
27
They had been offered castle room, but had declined it, setting up a camp in the castle yard. There had been plenty of wood to build a fire, and now half a dozen scrawny chickens were stewing in a kettle held on a crane above the blaze.
"It is the only way to cook them," Mary said. "They are probably so tough we couldn't eat them otherwise."
Their hosts had brought them, as well, three large loaves of new-baked bread and a basket of vegetables—carrots, beans, and squash.
And having done that, their hosts had disappeared.
From a far corner of the yard came a startled cackling.
"It's that Coon again," said Hal. "He's after the chickens. I told him there'd be chicken for him, but he likes to catch his own."
The sun had set, and the dusk of evening was beginning to creep in. They lounged about the fire waiting for supper to be done. The castle loomed above them, an ancient heap with mosses growing on the stone. Scrawny chickens wandered about the yard, scratching listlessly. Equally scrawny hogs rooted in piles of rubble. Half the yard was taken up with a fenced-in garden that was nearly at an end. A few cabbages still stood and a row of turnips waited to be dug.
"What I want to know," Cornwall said to Sniveley, "is how you knew we'd be safe inside the fog."
"Instinct, I suppose," said Sniveley. "Nothing I really knew. A body of knowledge that one may scarcely know he has, but which in reality works out to principles. Let us call it hunch. You couldn't have that hunch. No human could have, I did. Something clicked inside me and I knew."
"And now what?" asked Hal.
"I don't know," said Sniveley. "So far we've been safe. I confess I do not understand. The Chaos Beast is dead, they said, and they need our help. But I can't imagine what kind of help they need or why specifically from us. I am troubled, too, by the kind of things they are. They look like offscourings of this world of ours—no little people, no honest monsters, but something else entirely. We hear stories now and then of creatures such as this. Almost never seen. Not really stories, perhaps. More like legends. And you'll be asking me about the Chaos Beast, perhaps, and I'll tell you now I know no more of it than you do."
"Well, anyhow," said Gib, "they're leaving us alone. They brought us food, then went off. Maybe they're giving us time to get used to the idea of them, and if that's the case, I'm glad. I'm sorry about it, of course, but I gag at the sight of them."
"You'll have to get used to them," said Cornwall. "They'll be back again. There is something that they want from us…»
"I hope," said Hal, "they give us time to eat first."
They did. Supper was finished and full night had come. Hal had built up the fire so that it lighted a good part of the yard.
There were only three of them—Big Belly, Toad Face, and a third that looked as if it had been a fox that had started to turn human and had gotten stuck halfway in the transformation.
They came up to the fire and sat down. Foxy grinned at them with a long jaw full of teeth. The others did not grin.
"You are comfortable," asked Toad Face, "and well fed?"
"Yes," said Cornwall. "Thank you very much."
"There are rooms made ready for you."
"We would not feel comfortable without a fire and the open sky above us."
"Humans are seldom seen here," said Foxy, grinning again to show that he was friendly. "Two of you are human."
"You are prejudiced against humans?" asked Hal.
"Not at all," said Foxy. "We need someone who isn't scared."
"We can be just as scared as you," said Cornwall.
"Maybe," Foxy agreed, "but not scared of the same things. Not as scared of the Chaos Beast as we are."
"But the Chaos Beast is dead."
"You still can be scared of a thing when it is dead. If you were scared enough of it while it was alive."
"If you are this scared, why don't you leave?"
"Because," said Toad Face, "there is something that we have to do. The Chaos Beast told us we had to do it once he was dead. He put a charge on us. And we know we have to do it, but that doesn't stop us from being scared to do it."
"And you want us to do it for you?"
"Don't you see," said Big Belly, "it won't be hard for you. You never knew the Chaos Beast. You never knew what he could do."