The wizards and the warriors

And Hearst remembered the inscription mapped over the countryside around the volcano: Here Be Dragons.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

'No closer,' said Comedo. 'No closer, or I swallow it.' He kissed the ring.

Miphon took another step forward. Comedo grinned and parted his lips, stretching a thread of saliva to breaking point. His tongue lolled out to accept the glistening gold. Suddenly he snapped his mouth shut and gulped. Miphon swore. Comedo plucked the ring from his mouth and capered up and down: a grotesque figure of dust and blood, blood and tatters. He was, Miphon was sure, quite mad. i fooled you then, didn't I? Your heart squeaked nicely, nay? A mouse, and I stepped on it. I fancy that, for Miphon's fancy's fool, the mute word's moron. Nay?'

Then suddenly the pretense of humour was gone: 'Now down on your knees and grovel! Or I'll swallow it.'

Miphon shook his head, and said, as he might say to a dog or a horse: 'Soft now, soft, I'm no harm to you, soft now, easy.'

Slowly, carefully, as if easing out over thin ice, he began to close the distance. Comedo lept away, and shouted: 'Belly down to the dust or I'll swallow the ring.'

'Swallow it then,' said Miphon, suddenly angry. He drew a knife. 'Swallow it, and I'll rip you from vent to gills.'

'That blade may kill, but hardly the hand that holds it.'

'You're still walking, but that doesn't make you immortal.' i'm mad,' said Comedo. 'You mustn't hurt me. I'm mad, I can't help it.'

An extravagant cringing fear had replaced Comedo's arrogance. He was like… like what? Like a patch of sky in which any sort of weather might manifest itself. Princes have the opportunity to create the kind of reality that suits them. i won't hurt you,' said Miphon, regretting his outburst of anger.

'You couldn't anyway,' said Comedo, suddenly fierce, drawing a blade and snarling. 'Magic doesn't work in the bottle, does it? Blade against blade, I can take you. No contest. Now what will you tell your toenails if I go outside with the ring and leave you counting days to years – forever!'

'Try it,' said Miphon.

'Not today,' said Comedo. 'I'm a prince, not a prince's fool, my princely fool. But the swords won't be waiting outside forever. The dragon will munch them down, soon if not later. I saw the dragon from the shores of the lake. It flew from my dreams: practising. Wonderful! Bones crunch slowly. I wish I could watch.'

Miphon watched Comedo as one might watch a scorpion. The subdued green light from the walls of the bottle allowed him to see everything clearly here, for they were in the neck of the bottle. Downstairs the rooms would be gloomier. How many rooms were there? How many chambers? Miphon had no idea. He had never studied the magic of enchantment of bottles: it was old lore, now commanded, to the best of his knowledge, only by the order of Varkarlor.

Suddenly Comedo ran for the spiral staircase that led downwards. Miphon chased him down the stairs, and found himself in a storeroom a hundred times the size of the room above. Firestones studded the ceiling, shedding light on massive barrels of water, ale and wine, on sacks bulging with potatoes and onions, on fish smoked and salted, dried meat, pickles, hams, bunches of herbs and dried figs.

'Come and get me,' said Comedo, with a giggle. 'Come and get me.'

'I will,' said Miphon grimly.

This was getting too dangerous. He should have knifed Comedo in the room above. Would Hearst have hesitated, or Gorn, or Alish? Even Blackwood would not have hesitated under the circumstances. Comedo dangled the ring over a drop-hole.

'Don't drop it down there!' said Miphon.

'Why not?'

'We'll never see it again.'

Miphon knew all about the drop-holes. They would have a common opening located beneath the overhang of a tower at one of the wizard castles – in the case of this bottle, most probably Castle Vaunting. Anything thrown into one would finish up in the flame trench which circled the castle.

'We don't need to see it again,' said Comedo. 'We already know what it looks like.'

Miphon lunged at Comedo, who skipped back, snatched something from a shelf and hurled it at Miphon. It shattered at Miphon's feet: a jar of pickled pigs' trotters. Comedo threw another one. Miphon ducked. The jar clipped a barrel and burst in a shower of ceramic shards.

'Come on then,' said Comedo.

Miphon threw a jar at him.

'Missed,' said Comedo.

The prince danced away down another flight of stairs. The chase ended in a totally bare room. It was much larger than the one above, but was split in two by a massive stone wall which was fantastically carved with figures of wizards, warriors, dragons, and creatures of the Swarms. In the wall was a single doorway, flanked by twisting stone pillars.

There were no firestones here, but the bare floor was patterned with a filigree tracery of green light which supplemented the dull glow from the outer walls., 'You can't run much further,' said Miphon. 'Give it to me.'

Comedo backed toward the doorway. Miphon followed him cautiously. The other half of the room was also bare and featureless, apart from a stairway leading downwards. Miphon tried to circle round Comedo to cut off his escape down that stairway.

'Don't hurt me,' said Comedo. 'Oh don't hurt me.'

'Give me the ring,' said Miphon. 'Now!'

Comedo's fingers opened, and the ring fell to the stone floor. It rolled round and round in ever-diminishing circles, then fell, shivered and was still. Comedo backed away. Miphon stalked toward the ring, now ready to kill Comedo if he tried to grab it back. But Comedo kept retreating, with fear, despair and terror written on his torn and bloodstained face. Miphon scooped up the ring.

Comedo skipped back through the doorway and threw a lever hidden in the decorative carvings on the other side of the wall. A huge portcullis crashed down between him and Miphon, blocking the doorway. Miphon stood there unbelieving. Comedo had tricked him. Just like that. He had managed it so easily, so easily.

Comedo laughed.

'Now you'll grovel,' said Comedo. 'Now you'll grovel, now, down on your slime on your belly, because it's mine now. Mine!'

For a moment Miphon was dismayed, then he smiled. Of course! One turn of the ring would dissolve his body into mist, which would reassemble outside the bottle.

'You forget,' said Miphon. 'I've got the ring.' 'Have you now?' said Comedo. 'Have you now? Take a closer look, Mr Wizard. Take a closer look.' Miphon held up the ring to study it by the dim green underseas light. But one ring looks much like another. He jammed it on a finger and turned it. Nothing happened.

'Do you want the magic ring?' said Comedo. 'Do you want it?'

Miphon walked to the portcullis. On the other side, Comedo grinned at him. Comedo opened his mouth, and fingered a ring out of the dark wet shadows within.

'You're my prisoner now,' said Comedo.

Miphon put his hands to the cold metal bars of the portcullis. He tried to shift it. He might as well have tried to move a mountain.

'You need me,' said Miphon, thinking quickly now. 'You could die from your injuries. They're starting to rot already. I can tell. You're going to die if you don't get my help.'

'Pox doctor!' i tell you, if you don't get my help -"

Comedo shouted Miphon down, screamed at him, alternating rage with sarcasm, bitterness and spite. Miphon's bluff had failed. Turning, he walked away toward the staircase that led downwards deeper into the bottle.

'Run then,' said Comedo. 'Run then. You'll be back, when you get tired of drinking your own piss. You have to eat, you know. I'll feed you – once you've eaten. I've got you now. I'll have you licking out the inside of my nostrils before I'm finished with you.'

At the head of the stairs there was a hatch which Miphon could close and bolt after him. He did so, shutting out the sound of Comedo's ranting. Water, yes, he would need water: he was already thirsty, his throat dusty from that long slide down the scree slope.