"No," Dilvish answered.
"That is a refreshing change, at any rate. Would you be offended if I were to ask your objective? I'm doing something in the manner of a survey—"
"I've come to kill Jelerak."
Meliash stared at him. "If you do not wish to answer, of course I have no power to require—" he began.
"I have answered," Dilvish said, rising. "If he is in there, I'll face him. If he is not, I'll look for clues as to his whereabouts and try again."
He turned back toward the wood.
"Thank you for the meal," he said.
He felt Meliash's hand upon his shoulder.
"I believe you," he heard him say. "But I am not certain that you realize what you are facing. Supposing you do make it through, and supposing he should indeed be inside, or you run him to ground elsewhere. Even weakened, he is the most dangerous sorcerer in the world. He will blast you, wither you, transform you, banish you. None have ever faced his wrath and survived."
"I have faced his wrath. That is why I want him to face mine."
"I find that difficult to believe."
Dilvish shrugged off Meliash's hand.
"Believe what you would. I know what I am about."
"You think even Elvish magic would prove sufficient?"
"I may have something stronger."
"What?" asked Meliash, following him as he began to move away again.
"I've said all that I care to," Dilvish replied. "Thanks again for the refreshment. I will be going on now."
Meliash halted, watched him return to the wood. It seemed that a few words were spoken there—at first in Dilvish's voice. The reply that followed came in deeper tones. Then heavy footfalls moved off toward his left, and for a moment he saw the outline of a great black beast, Dilvish mounted upon it. In that moment, the light fell upon it in such a manner that it appeared to be made of metal. The hoofbeats became more rapid, circling the camp, heading west toward the changing land.
Meliash fumbled at the leathery pouch as he moved back toward the table. Seating himself, he withdrew the crystal and placed it before him upon the flattened pouch. He spoke softly, firmly. He waited, then repeated the words. After a pause, he commenced a third iteration.
The crystal cleared before he had finished, however, showing a long, thin face seined with wrinkles, tufted top and bottom with white, framing a black, shifty right eye beside a dead white one. This face was frowning. The lips moved. Meliash felt the word:
"Yes?"
"Did I disturb you, Rawk?"
"Indeed you did," said the other, glancing back over his shoulder. "What do you want?"
"Society business. This job I'm on…"
"It requires you consult the records?"
"I'm afraid so."
Rawk sighed.
"Okay. She'll keep. What do you need to know?"
Meliash raised his hands. He made a gesture.
"That was once a countersign to our recognition signal," he said.
"Things were a lot younger then," the other replied. "I remember…"
"If you can recall exactly when that one was in use, I would like you to search the archives for the membership records of that period. See if we had a brother named Dilvish. Elf. One of the lower circles, I'd guess. If so, did he tend toward either extreme? Also, is there reference to a metal horse or similar beast? I'd like to know anything at all that we have on him."
Rawk produced a quill, flourished it and jotted.
"All right. I'll do that and get back to you."
"Another thing."
"Yes?"
"While you're at it, see what we have on a current member—Weleand of Murcave."
Again the quill.
"I will do that. The first one sounds somehow familiar. I can't say why."
"Well, let me know."
"What is the situation there?"
"It seems unchanged."
"Good. It may settle itself."
"I've a feeling it won't."
"Good luck, then."
The crystal grew dark.
Meliash replaced it and went to regard the misted-over area which screened the castle. A lone rider on something heavy and black was moving away from him, fading.
Chapter 3
Black halted. Dilvish peered over the green scarf which muffled half his face, his right hand on the hilt of his larger blade, head turning.
"What's the matter?" he inquired.
"Not matter. Something less tangible," replied his mount.
"Is there something I should be doing about it?"
"Not really. I have detected a reality ripple—moving this way. All we need do is wait. It will pass shortly, missing us."
"What would happen if we did not wait?"
"You would be burned to ashes."
"We will wait. It is good that you have a feeling for these things."
"It may be somewhat less than perfect, however, in a place such as this. These are not ordinary spells, you know."
"Then Meliash was correct?"
"Yes. Those are the emanations of a magical being."
"It takes one to know one?"
"As they say…"
Dilvish felt a sudden blast of heat, and the landscape before him rippled and wavered. As this occurred, the wind died and the air grew clearer. Dilvish glimpsed shining spires, dark, moving forms, stripes of blue soil or rock, towering dust devils, fountains of blood—all far ahead, all for but a few moments—and could not tell whether they were mirage or substance. Then the wave passed. Winds dragging streamers of dust broke the prospect.
"Cling tightly now!" cried Black, and they moved forward at an incredible pace.
"Why the rush?" Dilvish shouted as they swept across the still-warm land, but his words were caught and carried away by the wind.
Their speed increased until Dilvish was forced to crouch low, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. The wind was now a single, immense roar all about him. After a time, it was like a silence, and in his mind he went back, back past his adventures since his return, beyond the hellfire, into the moist green land where the twilight fought the rainbow. He seemed to hear a voice singing, accompanied by one of the older instruments, an ancient song he had all but forgotten. The singer was a slim, fair woman with green eyes. There was a smell of wildflowers…
The sound of the wind broke in upon his reverie. They were slowing. He raised his head. After a moment, he opened his eyes.
They were moving upward, and Black's pace continued to decrease. Soon they came to a halt upon a hilltop beneath a brilliant sky. The wind was still. All about, below them, a fog drifted, churning in places. It was as if they stood upon an island in the midst of a foamy sea. Far off before them, the Castle Timeless stood, diminutive—a study in pink, lavender, gray, and shadow—in morning's oblique light.
"Why the speed?" Dilvish asked.
"There was more than one wave," Black replied. "I had to cross before the next one reached the area."
"Oh. Then we can rest here awhile and choose the best route."
"Not for too long. This hilltop is about to explode, becoming a mud volcano. But I have already determined the next leg of our journey, at least for a little distance. It seems it will be clearest if we bear to the right as we descend."
Dilvish became aware of vibrations beneath them.
"Perhaps we ought to be moving on."
"Behold the Castle Timeless," Black remarked, staring ahead.
Dilvish glanced forward once again.
"A place out of time," Black continued. "Long have I wished to view it."
The trembling of the ground became more pronounced.
"Uh… Black…"
"Built by the Elder Gods themselves, for some arcane purpose; destined, it is said, to circuit all of time; alterable, I have heard, but indestructible—"
"Black!"
"What?"
"Move!"
"Excuse me," he said. "I was transported. Esthetics."
Low
ering his head, Black plunged down the hillside into the fog, his eyes glowing like coals. The ground was shaking steadily now, and in the portions of which he had view, Dilvish could see cracks appearing, widening. Wisps of smoke rose from several of these, moving to mingle with the fog. The winds rose again about them, though not as strongly as before.
Leaping among large, cube-shaped green rocks in a very unhorselike fashion, Black bore steadily to the right as the ground leveled and the fog was abated in patches. The sound of a terrific explosion reached them and splatters of hot mud rained nearby, though only a few fell upon them.
"In the future," Dilvish remarked, "I would prefer not cutting things quite that closely."
"Sorry," Black replied. "I was caught up in a beautiful moment."
He leaped a hedge of flames which sprang up before them, and for a time raced parallel to the course of a black and boiling river, down through a canyon where screams too high-pitched to be human filled the air. Along the river's bank, black flowers swayed, hissing and spitting. Tiny points of light rose above the dark waters and drifted off, to explode with soft popping noises, emitting noxious odors amid showers of sparks. The ground continued to shake and the dark waters overleaped their banks in places, staining the rocks and the land about with tarlike films. A winged, monkey-faced thing the size of a large bird flew at them, shrieking, talons outstretched. Dilvish cut at it several times, but it eluded his blade. Finally, it passed too near Black's head. He breathed a flame upon it and it fell to the ground to be stepped on.
The river vanished into a steaming cavern, wails echoing within it. The ground split before them and Black leaped the chasm. It closed behind them with a grinding sound, and rocks and sand were shaken down upon them from a height to the left.
The far mouth of the canyon was hung with a screen of blue fires. Dilvish drew his cloak more tightly about him and Black increased his pace. As they rushed through, Dilvish shuddered at an intense cold, rather than the heat he had expected. Looking down, he discovered that both he and Black had become a rich cobalt color. His limbs felt stiff, almost brittle.
"It will pass! It will pass in moments!" Black cried.
It did pass, somewhere within a yellow cloud-bank, but this took longer than a few moments. They stood shuddering within a protective circle Black had raised, and the color and stiffness were slowly leached away. The winds were minimal here. Dilvish exercised his fingers and massaged his hands and biceps.
"So much for the easy part," Black remarked after a time.
"I hope that you are joking."
Black scarred the ground with a cloven hoof.
"No," he answered. "I am afraid that the emanations are stronger closer to the center of things."
"Have you any special plan of attack for that area?"
"Every protective spell I know is upon us," he said, "but that can only be one line of defense. Tualua, who dreams and hurts within, is so much stronger than I am that any direct encounter could overwhelm them. I must count on my perceptions, my speed, and our combined strength and ingenuity."
"I was afraid that was the case."
"They have served us well thus far."
"Then why are we moving—circle and all?"
"We are not moving."
"I think we are."
Black raised his head and stared through the fogs. The ground beneath them seemed firm enough now, but…
"Something does seem to be happening," he finally admitted. "The farthest rock I can see appears to be changing its position. I am going to risk a small spell. It may achieve nothing, it may rebound upon us, its effect may be distorted. But I would like to stir up the wind to clear the prospect —long enough to view our situation in better perspective."
"Go ahead."
Dilvish braced himself and waited. Black muttered in Mabrahoring. The errant gush which had been buffeting them settled, took on a uniform direction for a few moments, then shifted. It was several minutes after that that a steady wind came at them from the right. Black had grown silent by then, and both of them remained motionless, staring ahead.
Gradually, the fog bank began a leftward movement. A faint, lightninglike flicker occurred within it. It began to grow thin in patches, but the drifting vapors filled these areas almost immediately.
Then, as they watched, it all seemed to break loose and race away, revealing a dark prospect under sunny skies…
They were moving. Everything seemed to be moving in relation to the distant castle itself, which stood revealed again, salmon pink and orange. Only some things were moving faster than others…
They were drifting toward their right. The features of the landscape immediately before them also seemed to be drifting toward the right, and those more distant appeared to be moving faster. At a greater distance, however, bright rocks and sparkling glassy trees were racing leftward.
"I don't understand…" Black began.
The land had acquired ripples. The area where they rested, which had been low, was now rising. Dilvish, at a higher eye level than Black, was first to see and understand.
"Gods!" he exclaimed.
Far below and ahead was an enormous circular opening in a depressed area. The landscape was winding itself about it, spiraling inward; possessed of an abnormal plasticity, rocks and shrubs, logs and litter were all drawn toward that great dark hole and swirled about it, to vanish over its edges, along with the entire surface layer of soil upon which they rested.
"It's like a whirlpool…" Dilvish said, turning his head to look behind him.
In that distance also, things were moving in the opposite direction. Only…
"At least we are nearer the outer edge than the center," he said. "We had better get away quickly, though."
Black reared and remained upright for long seconds. Then he dropped heavily to the ground and turned to face the north. He began to move, breaking the circle which guarded them.
"This may work to our advantage," he offered. "We are being borne westward as we head toward the turning edge. By the time we depart the disturbed area, it will have carried us nearer to our goal."
He increased his pace.
"It sounds good, said Dilvish, "but I wonder… ?"
"What?"
"When we get to the edge—the place where this land platform ends and the stable ground begins…"
"Yes. I see what you mean."
Black moved even faster.
"That dark, curving line farther ahead…" Black said as he half rose again. "The ground does seem to be in turmoil there."
They raced on toward the dark band. Stray wisps of fog were blown past them. A low, growling sound now reached their ears.
"It does seem fairly wide."
"Yes."
The vibrations came to them. Ahead, a river of grinding rocks and soil seethed, crunching, like a boiling moat. As they drew nearer, the sounds grew louder. The ground began to dip and rock beneath Black's hoofs, and he slowed, finally halting perhaps fifteen paces from the place where the turmoil began.
Dilvish dismounted and moved slowly forward. A sudden dropping and recovery of the land threw him to one side, but his elfbooted feet moved with uncanny precision to preserve his balance. A log flashed by within the area of turbulence, moving as though it rode atop a horizontal avalanche. It struck a slower-moving stone with a dull sound, upended, and was ground to splinters before his eyes. Stooping, Dilvish seized a head-sized stone and raised it to shoulder level. This he cast out before him. It skipped several times before it was borne away atop the rush to his right. Dilvish stood waiting for a time, adjusting his footing in response to the landswells; then he took hold of another stone and repeated the performance, with the same results. He took a step forward. Several larger stones passed. He looked up and to his left, to where the castle seemed to be inching from left to right along the horizon. He took two more steps, then halted again.
"You might be able to," Black called, "if you time it just right. I'll keep watch for the prop
er steppingstones and call out to you. The elfboots should carry you."
Dilvish shook his head and turned back.
"No," he said, mounting again. "We have to go together."
"It is too far for me to leap."
"Then we wait until something large comes along."
"Risky. But it would seem to be the only way. All right."
Black reared again and peered upstream.
"Nothing suitable in sight."
He turned on his hind legs until he was facing back in the direction from which he had come.
"I can see the area we left. It's a lot nearer the hole."
"I can see a big rock coming."
Black turned and dropped almost immediately. The castle was now directly ahead and drifting to the right.
"Hold very tightly," Black said. "If I fall, try to spring from my body and keep going."
Black moved into a new position facing the dark and grumbling river of debris. The ground beneath them was raised, lowered, raised again. Dilvish leaned forward and squeezed until his legs ached. He turned his head to the left. He heard a distant booming sound, almost like a giant's laugh. He saw a sheet of flame fall from the heavens, disappearing at some point far ahead. Castle Timeless glistened like an amethyst now. The ground rocked gently, and there came a sound as of a massive gong being repeatedly struck, followed by a shattering noise, as if an entire wall of windows had suddenly given way somewhere. The dark river continued its crashing, its rumbling.
"Here it comes," Black announced.
Dilvish saw the half-submerged boulder again, rounding the bend with some difficulty, pushing toward them…
He tried to judge its pace. He closed his eyes and opened them again. A streamer of fog wound its way past.
"Now!" Black cried.
Suddenly they were moving. Dilvish thought it was too soon. The rock appeared as if it were caught for a moment and sinking further. Its surface seemed to offer no purchase for even the most careful feet…
They were in the air.
Involuntarily, Dilvish closed his eyes again. His teeth were jolted by the force of the contact. Black's body twisted beneath him, and he thought that they were slipping, falling.
The Complete Dilvish, The Damned Page 25
