Juna, her tongue hotly enshrined with Blade's, whispered again. «Why am I thus cursed, Blade? I was dutiful, obedient. I gave all my life to Izmia and to Patmos, I was her envoy and her creature in good faith and in intrigue and treachery. And never doubted the right of it-until I saw you. Now I would be but an ordinary woman, free to love the man she chooses, and I cannot. It is bitter.»
He could only nod and hold her close. Aye, it was bitter. And must be done. Quickly now. The head pains were recurring every few minutes; he had not much longer to stay in Dimension X.
But it was Juna who finally said, «If it must be done, Blade, do it now.»
From the catafalque she watched as he took the black pearl in one hand and the sword in the other. With great force he smashed the hilt of the sword against the pearl. It shattered into shards and dust.
Blade put wine in the chalice and three pinches of the pearl dust and returned to the catafalque. Juna took the chalice from his hand and knelt beside him. Blade was near spent and she must perforce suckle him for some moments. Then, with expert fingers, she brought him to climax and caught his spew in the chalice. The effort cost her and her eyes were haunted as she handed him the chalice again and fell back on the catafalque. Blade could not rest.
He mixed the potion in the chalice, stirring it with the sword point, and when it was thick and giving off a faint smoke, he anointed the steel with it, from hilt to point. A patina formed on the sword, dulling the sheen, and from it arose the same faint mist. Blade, sword in hand, turned back to Juna.
She was ready. Legs wide spread, naked, breasts trembling as she breathed and stared narrow-eyed with fear and regret and-or did he only imagine it,?-anticipation.
Blade hesitated. He gazed from the sword to the body of Juna. Was it possible? Even in Dimension X-was it possible?
Juna cried out. «Do it, Blade. Do it now! Else I lose courage.»
Blade lowered the sword point and guided it in between her outflung legs.
Juna arched and flung her head back and screamed once. Her face became a mask through which eyes watched Blade and they were not the eyes of Juna. They changed color, became amber lakes in which smoke swirled and clotted and vanished and came again.$
He kept sharp watch for blood and there was none. Juna-this woman creature who had been Juna, moved and writhed and contorted on the engorging sword. Inch by inch, foot by foot, the steel crept within her body. She engulfed it, swallowed it, welcomed the steel into her inner recesses. Her eyes were golden caverns now in which there flickered the fires of some ecstasy Blade could never know. Her features began to alter, subtly at first, then with speed until be saw not Juna. The blue-eyed maid was gone. He saw-lzmia.
Her body flesh changed color, shimmered with light and flame, flickered through the spectrum. Blade, running with sweat, pressed the sword home until the hilt rested against her flesh, pinned there like some shining ornament. The great sword lay within her body, a body now grown turgid, enhanced in every limb, breasts larger and heavy, legs longer and shoulders wider.
Blade stepped back and stared at her. And knew heryoung Izmial
There remained but one thing to do. He seized the hilt of the sword and plucked it out with a single motion. She screamed loud and writhed and sent the echoes scurrying through the cavern. Blade flung the sword from him.
Izmia stirred and raised herself on the catafalque and looked at Blade. She smiled and lifted her hand to him. Blade-
The roof blew off the world. The volcano cast off its mute and exploded in a delirium of sound. Blazing lava poured into his brain and he heard himself scream in agony as the cavern collapsed around him. The catafalque and the woman vanished in a whirling pinpoint of nothing. Blade ran at an insane pace on a treadmill of loti and on either side was whacked by balloons with phantom faces. He shrank to midget size and the gauntlet stretched to the ends of the universe. Fylfot banners flapped about him like evil wings and a snake, tail in mouth, pursued him like some dreadful hoop with intent to strangle. The balloons turned to faces and floated past-Nob, Hectoris,
w Edyrn, Gongor and Captain Mijax, the lisping evil of Ptol. Blade screamed and ran on and on-and on-
There was no succor, no escape. But yes-for now he ran into the great wide mouth of Izmia. The white teeth were cliffs and the red tongue a path and Blade slipped on the moist surface and fell and was sliding down that gaping maw, that gullet. The mouth closed, the great teeth x snapped, and all was darkness while Blade fell a million miles into a stomach larger than the world. x snapped, and all was darkness while Blade fell a million miles into a stomach larger than the world.
:Their taxi was trapped in Lothbury Street near Copra
4 House. The same newsboy was waving a placard. It had all happened before-nine months ago.
There had been, said Lord Leighton, a time slippage.
.; As a rule his Lordship did not worry about time in]5imension X; it seldom matched that in Home Dimension, but allowances were made and the matter was of no great import. But this time Blade had suffered a severe blow on the head-a hairline fracture of the skull that would heal of itself-and while this had brought on his amnesia it also baffled the computer until the proper adjustment was made. They had nearly given up on Blade.
J, beside him now in the taxi, showed the ravages of those nine lost months. His hair was grayer and skimpier, the lines around his eyes and mouth deeper. On first meeting, when Blade was free to leave the Tower, J had shaken his hand and said, «We thought we had lost you, old boy.» Just that. But there had been tears in the old man's eyes.
The taxi had not moved for some minutes. Blade stared at the newsboy across Lothbury Street. He could read the headline on the placard.
DIANA HAS A BOY
By this time J was aware of the coincidence. He nudged Blade. «Do you remember? We were caught in nearly this same spot-the day we went to the Tower and were so frightfully late. You bought a paper?»
Blade nodded. «I recall. Diana and Sir David Throckmorton-Pell. The hanging judge. The one they call The Rope. She had just run away from him.»
J smiled. «Yes. Not the first time, either. But she came back and they have just had a child. I doubt she will be running away again-not with a child to rear.»
Blade knew then. Sea green eyes, so cold at first and then so warm. Black pants with no lace. 'A Dorset beach and the- long swim out and the game they played and at last the coupling in the depths and the going away, the departures with no goodbyes.
Hercules and Diana. A sea game played once only.
J was saying, «Some of the nastier papers are hinting that Sir David is not the father. Short of libel, of course. But Tony Asquith, in the Mirror, is defending her tooth and nail. Of course everyone knows that Tony is mad for her. One or two of the really sleazy columnists have hinted that Tony himself is the father.»
«No,» said Blade absently.
J stared. «What?»
«I mean,» said Blade, «that I doubt that a fop such as this Asquith seems to be could be the father. Why don't the bastards leave the poor girl alone! And old Sir David, for that matter. This could make all the difference in their lives-they may have a chance now.»
He knew. Just as she would know, no matter how many men she had been with. And that was the end of it. He could never seek her out, nor she him. He felt no real sadness. He had come back from hell to find a bit of immortality bestowed on him. Who could quarrel with that?
The taxi moved on. J watched Blade carefully. Odd, but never before had he noticed that Blade, upon occasion, could look smug.