But what was above that doughnut was a surprise.
"Wizard," Angelique said softly, "what is that darkness all about?"
It was dead black, flat, total darkness, without the slightest hint of light. It seemed to dim everything near it.
"The void," I answered. "That's what lies outside of space and time."
"Then what," Frisson said, "is that great curve that rises above us", it was like a huge corkscrew, rising up over the rim of the doughnut, slanting upward into the void and out of sight.
"Yonder lies your path," the Gremlin informed him. Angelique frowned. "Yet how are we to come to there,"'
"Through yonder gate." The Gremlin pointed. On the far side of the circle, the wall curved inward, forming the mouth of another tunnel.
"If we must, we must," Gilbert growled. "Lead on."
"Even so," the monster murmured; but he had taken scarcely one step when a huge roar sounded, a roar that shook the very walls, a roar that pained our ears and hit us with almost physical force.
"There are impediments," the Gremlin murmured. Forth it came from the darkness of the tunnel mouth - a monster who stood upright on hooves and switched an oxtail, whose body swelled into the deep, muscular chest of a bull, merging into huge, human arms and shoulders. The mouth opened and loosed another closely, I realized there was no muzzle, but only a great russet beard roar; I thought, at first, that it was a lion's head. Then, looking more and mustache, and that the face was human, though with a huge mane of tawny hair.
But those were fangs inside that human mouth - fantastically elongated canines.
Angelique moaned and shrank back against me; I reached out a protective arm.
"Wizard," Gilbert said, "what manner of creature is that?"
"He is the Bull," the Gremlin answered, "and he is set to slay any who come herein."
Chapter Eighteen
The Bull charged, arms reaching out for easy meat.
"Scatter!" I shouted, leaping away to my left, Angelique darting with me. Gilbert dashed off to the right, and Frisson leapt out ahead, then veered around in a circle.
The Bull turned to follow him.
But the Rat Raiser popped up in front of the monster, crying, "Hold! Show me your permit!"
The Bull screeched to a halt, forgetting Frisson in its amazement at the sheer arrogance of this overweening human. Then it lowered its head, shoulders rising, and let out a bellow of tripled rage, lunging toward the bureaucrat.
The Rat Raiser turned and fled, crying, "Summon the men-at-arms!
"Why, then, here am I!" Gilbert cried, and threw himself at the Bull's hocks in a perfect flying tackle. The monster slammed down like a tidal wave hitting shore, letting out a roar like an earthquake. I winced, and hoped there'd be enough of Gilbert left to hold a ceremony over.
One way or another, the squire had bought us some time, enough for me to search my memory.
But Frisson got in there before me:
Something glimmered in the center of the circle, glimmered and took form, that of a tall, voluptuous woman in a chiton, blond hair piled high, with a face of pure innocence. She whirled and ran, revealing smooth ivory thighs.
Of course, if you looked closely, she was a little translucent. Maybe transparent - the Bull saw right through her, anyway. He stampeded straight past the illusion, shaking the whole chamber with his bellow, and the Gremlin gibed, "You have mistaken quite, if You wish a female for his taste."
And, suddenly, the illusion-woman wasn't there any more; in its place was a young and shapely heifer, slender - for a cow - and, even to my eyes, somehow alluring. She sauntered out between the humans and the Bull, who dug in his hooves and jolted to a halt, its eyes fairly bulging. The heifer turned, switching her tail in his face, ambling away from me and my companions.
Bewitched, the Bull followed.
Gathering my wits, I dashed over to Gilbert, but the squire had pulled himself together and was sitting up, shaking his head. I stopped by him with a sigh of relief. "You okay?" Gilbert looked up with a frown. "What is 'okay'?"
"Uh-sound, in this instance,"
"Aye." Gilbert caught my arm and pulled himself up. "Sound, and ready for another round. Where is our foe?"
Another wall-shaking roar answered us. We whirled and saw that the Bull had finally caught the heifer - but she had turned into a Spanish fighting Bull, head lowered and pawing the earth. The halfhuman Bull bellowed his bafflement and rage, and charged. Somehow, he missed.
And, somehow, the Spanish Bull was a heifer again, scampering away with a playful moo. But the Bull, fully aroused, roared his wrath and pounded hot-hoof after her.
I saw our chance. "Now! While he's too mad to think at all!"
"Even as you say." Gilbert hurled himself forward again.
"Hey, no!" I cried, appalled; but the squire did even better than before. He landed in a crouch right in front of the Bull and, with its next step, surged upward, arms wrapped around the monster's knees, pitching upward with his full strength, slinging the Bull high and hard. The monster's bellow took on a note of bafflement; it flailed about as it flew, and Gilbert turned with it, hands still on its hooves, then slammed it down with all his might. The Bull hit the ground with an impact that shook the whole cavern, and Frisson yanked off his wooden shoe, leapt in, and swung hard. The crack! of wood on bone was almost as loud as the roar, and I winced, hoping the Bull wasn't dead even as I wondered if I'd have to conjure up a new shoe for Frisson.
But the Bull only sagged, pushing itself halfway up, then tilted over and fell heavily again. He lifted his head, looking about, then rolled over to his belly and got his legs under him.
"He has a hard head," Frisson noted, pulling his shoe on again.
"Yet he will recover, and soon." The Gremlin was there by me.
"Quickly, Wizard! Conjure tea!"
"Tea?!" I stared, totally taken aback.
"Aye, tea and scones, with a silver service and a linen cloth! Quickly! Lose no time!"
"But what good will tea and ..."
"Do you not hear me? I tell you, I know this Bull! High tea, and promptly, for even now he regains his senses!"
I gave up trying to make sense out of it, and recited:
The air thickened; then light glittered off shiny surfaces, and a linen picnic cloth was there, with cups and saucers next to a bonechina teapot. Hot scones nestled in a linen napkin lining a silver basket; another held crumpets, with butter dish and jam pot close by.
"Maiden, pour!" the Gremlin urged.