the world of the shadows it created it would cease to be, and he would stand in darkness once more.
For a time he feared he had entered a gigantic cavern and had gone astray there; but a ribbon of white appeared before him, and he held it with his eyes and continued to advance. When, after a long while, he came upon it, he saw that it was a large black pond with lights like fish scales glimmering upon it, cast from the faintly glowing fungus that covered the walls and roof of the cavern.
As he circled the pool, heading for a patch of great darkness beyond its opposite shore, there came a thrashing within the water. His blade was in his hand as he turned.
Having now been discovered, he spoke the words which caused an illumination to appear above the pool. A large ripple arrowed in his direction, as though a great bulk moved beneath it. From either of its sides now, a clawed tentacle rose, black and dripping, and extended itself ii his direction.
He squinted against the light he had created and raised up his blade for a double-handed blow.
He spoke the quickest charm he knew to grant him strength and accuracy. Then, as soon as the nearest tentacle came within striking range, he swung and cut through it. It fell near his left
boot, still writhing, struck against him and caused him to fall.
At this, he counted himself fortunate. For as he fell, the second tentacle slashed through the space his head and shoulders had occupied a moment before.
Then a round face, perhaps three feet in diameter, blank-eyed and crowned with a mass of writhing strands as thick as his thumb, exploded above the water, opened a large hole in its lower portion and moved toward Jack.
Not rising from where he lay, Jack swung the blade and pointed it directly at the thing, holding it with both hands, and he repeated words from the Key as rapidly as his mouth could form them.
His blade began to glow, there came a sputtering sound, then a stream of fire began to flow from the point of the weapon.
Jack moved the blade in a slow circle and the stench of burning flesh soon reached his nostrils.
Still, the creature continued to advance, until Jack saw the whiteness of its many teeth. Its good tentacle and the stub of its severed one flailed wildly, striking dangerously near. The beast gave a hissing, spitting sound. At that moment, Jack raised the blade, so that the fire fell upon the things that writhed on top of it.
With a sound that was almost like a sob, it threw itself backward into the pool.
Its bulk raised a wave that washed over Jack. But before it struck him and the beast vanished into the depths, he saw the creature's backside; and it was not the coldness of the water that caused him to shudder.
Rising then, he dipped his blade into the pool and repeated a spell to intensify a thousandfold the power he had called into the weapon. With this, the blade began to vibrate in his hands so that he could scarcely hold it. Yet he braced himself and stood there, the light blazing above and the stilled tentacle beside him.
The more he feared the power he had summoned, the longer it seemed that he stood there, and perspiration covered him like a sudden extra warm garment.
Then, with a hissing that was near to a shriek, half the creature's bulk rose with a rush of waters above the pool's center. As it vanished below once more. Jack did not move, but maintained his stance until the pool began to boil.
The creature did not rise again.
Jack did not eat until he had circled the pool and entered the far tunnel; and he knew that he dare not sleep. He strengthened himself with drugs and continued on.
Coming to a region of fires, he was attacked by a hairy man-beast and its mate. But he stepped into shadow, mocking them as they strove to reach him. Not wishing to waste time with torment and death, however, he renounced this pleasure and caused the shadows to transport him to their farthest limit.
The region of fires was vast, and a moment later when Jack stood at its far edge, he knew he was nearing his goal. There, he prepared himself for the next place of danger he must pass.
After a long walk, he began to detect the odors, reminding him of the Dung Pits of Glyve and something even more foul. He knew that soon he would be able to see again, though there would be no light and, consequently, no shadows into which he might escape. He rehearsed the necessary things.
The odors increased in intensity, until he fought with his stomach to retain what it held.
Then a gradual vision came into his eyes, unlike normal sight.
He saw a dank land of rocks and caverns, and all over it a certain mournful brooding lay. It was a still place, where mists twined slowly through the air and among the rocks, where faint vapors hung over large puddles of still water, where the odors and mists and vapors clotted together a brief distance overhead, to rain an occasional silent moment, redistributing the filth across the land. Beyond these things, there was nothing to be seen; and a bone-touching chill was everywhere.
He moved as quickly as he dared.
Before he had gone a great distance, he detected the slightest of movements to his left. He saw that in one of the normally still puddles a tiny, dark creature covered with warty protuberances had hopped forth and now sat staring at him, unblinking.
Drawing his blade, he touched it lightly with its tip and took a rapid step backward, expecting what might occur. The air exploded as the creature was transformed. It lowered above him on crooked, black legs; it had no face, no apparent depth of body, but existed as if it were drawn in outline with the darkest of inks. Those were not feet it stood upon. Its tail twitched as it spoke.
"Give me your name, that comes this way," said the voice that chimed like the silver bells of Krelle.
"None may have my name ere I have his," said Jack.
A soft laughter emerged from the outline of a horned head.
Then, "Come, come now! I wish to hear a name," it said. "I have no patience."
"Very well, then," said Jack; and he spoke one.
It fell to its knees before him.
"Master," it said.
"Yes," Jack replied. "That is my name. Now must you obey me in all things."
"Yes."
"Now I charge you by that which I spoke, to bear me upon your back to the ultimate bounds of your realm, leading downward, until you are able to pass no farther, nor any others of your kind. Nor will you betray me to any of your kin or comrades."
"I will do as you have said."
"Yes."
"Repeat it back to me as an oath."
This was done.
"Bend now lower that I may mount you and you be my steed."
He leaped onto the creature's back, reached forth, caught hold of either horn.
"Now!" he said; and it rose and began to move.
There was a clatter of hooves and a bellows-like exhalation. He noted that the texture of the thing beneath him was not unlike that of a very soft cloth.
The pace quickened and the landscape began to blur whenever he attempted to fix his eyes... . And then there was silence.
He became conscious of a black movement about him, and his face was fanned by breezes that came and went with the regularity of pulse-beats. He realized then that they were aloft, and that those were great black pinions that swept them above the noxious land.
They travelled for a long while, and Jack wrinkled his nose, for the reek of the beast exceeded that of the countryside. They moved at a great speed, but he saw that similar dark shapes occasionally passed in the region of the upper air.
Despite their speed, the journey seemed interminable. Jack began to feel that his strength would fail, for his hands began to ache now even more than they had when he had boiled the black pool. He feared sleep, for his grip might fail him. So he thought upon many things to keep him awake. Strange, he thought, how my greatest enemy did me my greatest favor. Had the Lord of Bats not driven me to it, I would never have sought the power I now contain, the power that made me ruler, that gave me full revenge and Evene ... Evene ... I still am not fully pleased with the terms by which I hold you. Yet ... What other way is there? You deserved what I did. Is not love itself a form of a spell, where one is loved and the other loves, and the one who loves is compelled to do the other's bidding? Of course. It is the same thing... . And he thought then of the Colonel her father, and of Smage, Quazer, Blite, Benoni, the Baron. All of them paid now, all of them paid. He thought of Rosalie, old Rosie, and wondered whether she still lived. He resolved to inquire after her one day at the Sign of the Burning Pestle on the coach road by the ocean. The Borshin. He wondered whether the deformed creature had somehow survived, and still sought his trail somewhere, with but one burning imperative within his twisted body. He was truly the Lord of Bats' last weapon, his last hope for revenge. Like the explosion of a geblinka pod, this made his mind return to things he had not thought upon for a long while: the computers and The Dugout, the classes and that girl-what was her name?-Clare! He smiled that he remembered her name, although her face was but a blur now. And there was Quilian. He knew he would never forget Quilian's face. How he had hated the man! He chuckled at having left him in the hands of the pain-crazed Borshin, who had doubtless mistaken Quilian for himself. He remembered that mad drive across the country, fleeing the light, heading darkside, not knowing whether the print-outs he carried did indeed contain The Key That Was Lost, Kolwynia. The thought of his exultation when he tested it. Although he had never revisited the light, he now felt a strange nostalgia for those days at the university. Perhaps it is because I am outside .now, he thought, and regarding this as an object; whereas then I was a part of the object itself... . And always his thoughts returned to the towering figure of Morningstar atop Mount Panicus...