Distance seemed to be important, when she wasn't close it was possible to obtain a degree of detachment and now, lying on the edge of a beach of glittering sand, Dumarest watched the girl as she sported in the surf.
A lovely woman and one who dispensed madness so that when they were close he was helpless to do other than obey her wishes.
Turning he looked at the sky, a bowl of clear azure tufted with fleecy cloud, the sun a glowing ball of lambent yellow fire. The clouds shifted as he concentrated, merging to form a pattern, a construction of lace which shielded the glare of the sun and sent patches of shadow scurrying over the sand. A triumph, but it brought no satisfaction. If anything it demonstrated the magnitude of his power. A few clouds, the wash of the sea, the shape of the dunes-all things of no importance. Yet when he tried to oppose her will Iduna was always the victor.
"Earl!" She came running toward him over the sand. "Earl, come and join me!"
A vision of loveliness, white skin glowing with a rich, soft sheen, dappled with the pearl of water which also graced the dancing tresses of her hair. The uptilted breasts bounded in their pride and her thighs were twin columns of artistic yearning. Naked, unblemished, unashamed. A woman who reached her hands toward him.
"Come, Earl. Let us ride the waves."
A moment and then he was standing on a narrow, pointed board riding the rolling crest as the wave surged to break on the shore. To be back again this time with the girl, her arms locked around his waist as, legs straddled, he maintained his balance on the shifting support. To fall and spout water and laugh and be back again on the long, smooth slope of a breaker.
Pleasure without pain. Joy without effort.
And later, when the heat of her body had consumed him and they lay on a bed of scented heather there was time for talk and words hung like glittering spangles in the sultry summer air.
"This is wonderful!" Iduna stretched, satiated, muscles writhing beneath velvet skin, eyes half-closed in sensual delight. "Earl, you must never leave me. You don't want to leave me, do you? No, of course you don't. You will stay and be my consort and together we shall rule. Rule and have fun."
Live and play games and after? When she had tired of the games?
"Don't you ever miss anyone, Iduna? Your father, for example?"
"Daddy comes to visit me often. We talk and then he goes away but he always comes back when I need him."
"Anyone else? A friend? A-" Dumarest broke off, knowing it was useless. What she wanted she created and if the people were less than real what difference did it make? They were her conception of reality and so far more satisfying than any other. In her universe Gustav would never scold, her friends never be less than attentive, her lovers other than ideal. "Travel, then," he said. "Have you never wanted to travel? To see other worlds and other ways of living?"
"I have traveled."
To Katanga over the Juntinian Sea. To the Burning Mountains and the Eldrach Jungles. To lands of make-believe inhabited by deliciously frightening monsters and patroled by true and loyal guards.
"Really travel, I mean," said Dumarest. "To take a ship and visit another world. One with a different sun and new cultures. To see strange things and beautiful sights. To have adventures."
"I have them." Her hand reached out to touch him. "I have everything I want, Earl."
Even himself in her image. Dumarest saw his body and knew it had changed. The skin was roseate, the scars vanished, the muscle firm and the proportions now arranged in a pattern not designed by a life of arduous activity. His face too now held softness where once harsh reality had set its mark.
"Earl!"
He fought her attraction as he had before, biting on the inner flesh of his cheek, resisting the sweet temptation to yield, to enjoy the moment, to forget everything but the joy of pleasure. For a moment the woman at his side seemed to waver, to become young and gawky and awkward as she lifted herself on the heather, then the moment had passed and Iduna was beautiful again.
"Earl, why be so foolish?" she said quickly. "All this talk of travel-why should you bother? What could you find you haven't here with me? A castle, lands, servants, fine clothing, good food, all the sweets you can eat and think of the wonderful games we can play. Look, you can be King of the Castle if you want and…"
He leaned back, letting her words drift over him, using the one great advantage he had over the girl he had come to find. The hard-won experience of years which had hammered an iron resolve into his being. A maturity and determination which Iduna had to lack. A reluctance ever to yield his fate to another.
And he could recognize the trap which had closed around him.
While in Iduna's universe he was helpless to be other than a puppet moving to her whims. To escape her domination he had to establish his own superiority. But how? And even if he did would things be as they seemed?
"Earl, you-" She blinked as he gestured her to be silent. "What is it? Earl?"
"A message," he said. "I am receiving a message."
"From Earth? Earl, I am tired of you playing that silly game. There is no such world."
"There is if I say so."
"No, there is only if I say so." Her face, suddenly, was ugly. "And I say that you will never mention that place again."
"Earth," he said.
"Earl!"
"Earth! Earth! Earth!"
"You're horrible!" Her face wrinkled as her eyes filled with tears. "Everything was so nice and now you've spoiled it all. I hate you!"
"Earth!" he said again. "Earth! Earth! Earth!"
A boy playing a childish game, obtaining a childish revenge by demonstrating his infantile defiance. Dragging her down to his depicted level, keeping her off balance with adult calculation.
"Stop it!" Her voice rose in a raucous scream. "Stop it, I tell you! Stop it at once!'"
"Earth! Earth! Earth!"
The word a bullet fired again and again at her defenses. An irritation which grew until it dominated her being. Dumarest saw her face change, become young, spiteful, twisted with angry passion.
Then it was gone with the sky, the heather, the sea and glittering sand. The sun and breeze and the scent of flowers. All vanished in a flash to be replaced by a writhing mist in which something screamed.
And the thing which screamed was himself.
Dumarest turned, feeling agony sear every nerve, and together with the physical pain came a mental torment which sent him to double and keen and stare as he threshed and spun in the clammy mist. A vapor which burned like acid and held torments unseen but real and things which lived in his body and mind and increased his agony so that he became something less than human in a blind, primitive, mewing, screaming parody of a man.
The dungeon to which all who offended Iduna were sent.
The place he had seen with himself contained in it-the product of a vagrant thought which had anticipated later events or perhaps Iduna had always carried its concept in the back of her mind and his incarceration would be his punishment had he not played her game.
He had been warned and had ignored the warning and now must pay.
But he was free of her domination.
The pain was bad but he could live with agony which did not kill and it would only take a thought to escape. A little concentration and the mist would vanish and the pain and he would be his own master and able to plan and… and…
The pain! Dear God, the pain!
The screaming went on and he made no effort to stop it.
Made no effort either to halt his weaving and turning in the stinging mist. To have done either would rob his mind of the power to concentrate on a single, overwhelming thought. To escape. To move from this dungeon and Iduna's vengeance and go somewhere else. To escape… escape…