Stunned, the professor stared at the six foot six, two hundred and fifty pound slab of muscle. "You played an elf? How the deuce could you play an elf?"
"Superbly," Lord Carstairs said, twirling an imaginary cape about his shoulders.
Trying not to show his annoyance, the professor kept a neutral expression. He often had the same problem with Mary. Actors! They are almost as balmy as novelists.
Looking over the great expanse of the ragged mountains, Lord Carstairs abruptly turned, and returned to the very edge of the chasm. "Hail, guardians of the bridge!" Carstairs bellowed, through cupped hands. "We need to speak!"
Fanning himself with the crown, Professor Einstein stopped and frowned. "What in God's name are you doing, lad?" he demanded.
"Asking directions," the lord answered over a shoulder.
Without bothering to turn their bodies, the four knights rotated their heads. "Yes, Puck?"
Oh, they heard that, eh? Damn . "By any chance, do you know the whereabouts of the Dutarian Squid God?" Lord Carstairs asked politely.
"Actually, we are trying to find its temple," Professor Einstein clarified. "It's supposed to be somewhere around here, and we would like to get there before the squid awakens."
A faint rattling could be heard from the guardians. "Y-you m-mean, the c-c-c-colossus is about to rise?" Their strange multiple voices reached a high note on the last word.
"Why, yes," Lord Carstairs answered truthfully. "Is that a problem?
With a clatter of armor, the four knights coalesced back into one figure that drew itself stiffly erect. "Gotta go," it said, and vanished in a puff of orange smoke.
"Oh, bloody buggering hell!" the professor complained, jamming the crown back on his head. "Every time I start to feel good about this mission, something like that happens!"
"At least we now have a clear path of escape if necessary," Lord Carstairs said cheerfully, turning towards the mountains again. "Positive thinking, sir. That's the ticket!"
"Oh, do shut up, lad."
Proceeding along a wide ravine, Lord Carstairs led the way as the two followed a meandering path. Small arroyos branched off from the main passageway constantly, and the side paths were ideal locations for an ambush. Checking their weapons, Einstein and Carstairs tried to watch in every direction for more sentries, guards, booby-traps, and anything else they could think of that might bar the way. But there were only the broken rocks, and the low moaning wind.
Sloping upward, the rocky path curved along the exterior of the steep mountain, forming a spiral to the very pinnacle where they found a dark cave. Digging into a pocket, the professor pulled out a miner's candle purchased in the city. Shaking the candle vigorously, Einstein made the hexed wick obediently burst into a tall flame. Just as a precaution, Carstairs did the same with another candle.
But entering the cave, the men found that the candles were insufficient for the task of illuminating the vast interior of the mountain passage. They were not in a tunnel, but a subterranean cavern. Its upper reaches were lost in shadows and stalactites, and stalagmites hid the presence of nasty holes in the rocky ground that almost seemed to have been designed to break the ankles of unwary travelers.
Proceeding with extreme care, Einstein and Carstairs walked in the center of the cave. The footsteps of their boots, oddly, failed to make any echoes. They moved in utter silence. The effect was most disturbing, and the explorers moved slightly closer together for protection. As they followed a bend in the cave, the dying light of the setting sun was cut off completely, and the darkness became pitch black. Suddenly, the explorers were standing in a small halo of candlelight amid the eerily still passageway.
"Well, it could be worse," Lord Carstairs said, trying to enliven the mood.
"Really? How?" Professor Einstein asked, just as a gust of wind from nowhere blew out both of the candles.
"Never mind, sir," Lord Carstairs said from the darkness. "Damn, mine isn't working. Shake your candle, Professor."
"I am, lad, but nothing is happening!" Professor Einstein replied angrily. "Do you have another?"
"Not that I can easily reach."
"Bollox. Wait a second, maybe I have something better than a candle. Hold on."
For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, the cave became bathed in a golden glow as the professor drew the Sword of Alexander. The two men sighed in relief, and then froze motionless at the sight of dozens of winged demons hanging upside-down from the ceiling in countless rows upon rows. Snapping open their slated yellow eyes, the inverted hellspawn looked directly down at the started explorers, who stared right back at them in equal surprise.
"By The Great Squid!" a big demon screamed, gesturing with its talons. "It's them! The Englishmen we were told about: Lord Einstein and Professor Carstairs!"
"I think that's Professor Einstein…" another demon sniffed primly.
"Who cares? Kill them!" a horned demon interrupted, brandishing a barbed trident. "Rip out their hearts and drink their blood!"
Dropping from the vaulted ceiling, the snarling demons spread their wings and flew to the attack, screaming exactly like a bunch of bats out of Hell.
Chapter Twenty-One
"For Queen and country!" Lord Carstairs yelled, triggering his weapon. The roar of the Vulcan mini-gun filled the cavern.
The fusillade of steel tore into the demons. The explosive charges hurled black blood, flesh, and rock splinters about in a horrid spray. As a cloven hoof thrust downward, Professor Einstein jerked aside, swinging his sword in response. At the touch of the enchanted blade, the creature burst into flames. But more demons replaced those who died, and the battle raged on in rapidly increasing levels of violence.
***
In a side alcove, a fat demon, wearing a light blue, two-piece leisure suit, stopped banking the fire beneath his evening meal. Dripping butter, the live spider roasting on the spit gave a sigh of relief. Curious, Vognol the demon waddled toward the main tunnel. What is that bizarre noise? Could it be another wayward traveler? He glanced at the meal roasting above the sulphurous flames. It was always nice to have more company for dinner!
Humming a heretical hymn from the fifteenth century, Vognol reached the main tunnel just in time to get smacked in the face by a lump of meat. Scraping off the slab, he was startled to realize it was the face of Brindrexil, one of the few demons who knew how to play a decent game of bridge.
"Brindrexil!" Vognol cried. "What in Heaven is going on?"
The disembodied demon face scowled. "Trouble! Go tell the boss!"
Tucking his friend into a pocket, Vognol started to go, but could not resist the urging of his streak of curiosity. He crept forward to steal a glimpse of the battle. Peeking around a stalagmite, Vognol saw the last of his brethren annihilated by a noisy device strapped to a large pink human wearing a metal bowl on his head. Then Vognol's narrow eyes widened to human normal as he recognized the two mortals. It was Lord Einstein and Professor Carstairs! Oh yes, this is definitely not the place to be right now. Turning tail, Vognol tucked the barbed appendage into another pocket of his suit and scuttled off. The High Priest of the Great Colossus would pay a good price for this sort of information!
***
Drenched in black blood, Lord Carstairs busily scanned the roof of the cavern for more inhuman foes, but the ceiling appeared to be empty, at last. "All clear here, Professor!" he called.
"Just a moment, lad." Doing a perimeter sweep of the ground in case of any flank attacks, Professor Einstein saw a fat little demon racing away down a side passage. Purely out of reflex, the professor raised his sword arm and shouted, "Stop!"
Obediently, the Sword of Alexander pulsed with light. A lance of flame leapt from its tip to engulf the escaping monster. With a crackling flash, the demon was vaporized. Only the gray ash of its weird clothing remained to float gently to the rocky floor.
"All right, that should be the last of them," Einstein stated confidently, waggling the sword in victory.
; "I must say, Professor, that flame lance was a jolly good trick," Lord Carstairs said, resetting the safety on his mini-cannon. "What else can that bally sword of yours do?"
"To be honest, I have no idea, lad. That was as much a surprise to me as it was to you." Respectfully, the professor inspected the blade. "I wonder if Alexander had this built to do anything else that we should know about?"
"A pity it didn't come with an instruction booklet similar to the one that came with my gun," Carstairs observed.
Turning the glowing blade about for inspection, the professor frowned. "That's true - you got instructions. But if this is as sophisticated a magical device as your gun is a technological device… Sword, what can you do?"
There was a ripple in the air, and a floating papyrus scroll formed before Professor Einstein. Slowly, the scroll spread wide and began to unroll. Gilded words formed in ancient Macedonian on the ancient paper. The syntax was odd, but the professor, who had little trouble reading the list, was quite impressed. No wonder Alexander the Great had conquered the known world!
"This is astounding, lad!" Einstein cried in delight. "Come and see for yourself! What can't this sword do? It is indeed a weapon fit for the king of the world!" Softly, almost as an afterthought, the professor added, "So why in Hell am I holding it?"
Glancing about the dim cavern, Lord Carstairs could only see Professor Einstein standing there, holding the sword.
"What is astounding, sir?" the lord asked pointedly.
"What? Don't you see anything?" asked the professor, halting the scroll with a thought.
Stepping over a demon corpse, Carstairs moved through the floating paper. "Nothing unusual, sir."
"Interesting," Professor Einstein muttered, his mind whirling with the limitless possibilities of this new information. "Very interesting, indeed!"
Lord Carstairs began to tap his boot impatiently, and the professor quickly explained what was happening.
"Fantastic!" the lord said at last. "It seems logical that since the sword was designed to unite the world in peace, which was the true dream of Alexander, then it must be more than eager to wage war on those who would enslave the world."
"Thus I am its master purely by default," Einstein murmured. Then he stiffened as a silent voice shouted into his mind.
"Beg pardon, sword. I am its chosen champion by default," the professor quickly corrected. "Fair enough, I suppose. The enemy of my enemy, and all that."
"Let us push on, sir," Lord Carstairs said, checking the feed on his mini-gun. " Carpe diem!"
"Oh, stop with all the Latin, would you lad?"
"Do you prefer Swahili?"
"Oh yes, please, that would be lovely."
With the shining sword leading the way, Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs probed deeper into the hellish cave, bypassing a small campfire with a very unhappy spider tied to a rotating spit. They set the insect free, and it joyously sang their praises before limping away for home, leaving in its wake a squishy trail of herb-flavored butter.
After stomping out the fire, the explorers pushed onward, and soon saw a dim light coming from around a sharp bend. Hugging the wall in case of attack, Einstein and Carstairs listened for any breathing or movements past the turn, and then boldly stepped around the corner.
Down a short passage was the mouth of the cave, the opening filled with an unearthly light. Exercising extreme care, the men crept forward, and stepped out of the mountain cavern and onto a small ledge. A dry, lifeless breeze tugged at their clothing, as a dour-faced Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs surveyed the great valley spread before them. The landscape was illuminated by the cold blue light of the triple moons. Upon closer inspection, they saw that valley was circular, and rather resembled the mouth of an extinct volcano. Scarred and jagged, the world below was composed of only crumbling rock and burnt soil. Bare twisted trees, little more than gnarled sticks, were scattered about like the long-dead corpse of a once great forest.
Drifting along the bottom of the crater were misty tendrils of swirling fog that were eerily similar to the clouds of the transdimensional vortex. Perhaps this was the wellspring of those evil portals. Not a creature could be seen moving in the forlorn crater. There wasn't even the lonely wail of vampire bat to break the horrid silence. Never had the two men imagined a land so totally devoid of faith, hope, or love. It was worse than Liverpool.
In the center of the crater was an oily-appearing lake, its dirt shoreline lapping at the base of a titanic obsidian peak that rose high into the midnight sky. There was no visible road or pathway to the summit, yet atop the forbidding ebony spike stood a marble building with Doric columns. At first glance, it appeared to be built in the style of ancient Rome. But upon closer inspection, Einstein and Carstairs could see that the domed roof was decorated with eerie staring eyes, and the marble columns were detailed to resemble writhing tentacles.
"Behold, the temple of the Squid god," Professor Einstein said, speaking as if torn between relief and disgust. "Exactly as we saw it from inside the transdimensional tunnel."
"Ghastly place. A most fitting home for the beast," Lord Carstairs agreed, using a tone of voice that he normally reserved for the operators of opium dens.
"Quite so, lad," the professor agreed. "I feel the need for a hot bath just from looking at that lake."
Advancing to the edge of the rocky ledge, Lord Carstairs looked down the side of the mountain. Directly beneath them was smooth stone extending for countless yards. Taking a gold coin from his pocket, he flicked it over the cliff. Closing his eyes in concentration, the lord softly counted as the coin fell, patiently waiting to hear the ring as it hit bottom so that he could calculate the distance. But either the coin never reached the bottom of the crater, or the ground was so far away that he could not hear the sound.
"How ever will we get down?" he wondered aloud. "The demons obviously flew."
"I'd say that we must climb down, lad," Einstein said gruffly. "At least it will be easy going. Plenty of handholds."
"True," the lord agreed cautiously. "However, during our descent, we will be highly visible. And if we're attacked by more winged demons, we would be at a marked disadvantage clinging to the side of a bally mountain."
"Quite so," Professor Einstein said with a frown, and then laughed through his nose.
"All right, what trick do you have planned?" Carstairs asked, pushing back his steel hat. "Any chance we can also fly down?"
"Me? Oh, yes, but not you. So we'll have to use a disguise spell," the professor said, mentally summoning the scrolling papyrus once more. "Yes, that will do nicely. I can conjure an optical illusion of the two of us masked as winged demons. Normally, the sword could not do this for somebody other than the wielder, but if we're smeared with fresh demon blood, this will be easily accomplished."
"If that is the only component required, sir," Lord Carstairs replied, gesturing at his blood-soaked military uniform, "then I am more than ready."
Tugging at his clothing, the professor scowled at his clean tunic and pants. Not a bloody drop of inhuman blood on the whole outfit. Drat!
"However, I am not similarly anointed, lad," Einstein countered, starting back into the cave. "And I had best hurry, before this dry atmosphere leaches away what moisture there is from the corpses."
"Well, it was certainly nice of the creatures to supply us with so much raw material to work with," Lord Carstairs added, squinting to make his eyes adjust to the dimness. "Although they hardly did so willingly."
Inside the cavern, the men found a particularly juicy corpse. They used a torn wing as a sort of brush to paint the professor all over, not forgetting his back and scabbard. The brackish liquid was very sticky and dried quickly, so they had to move fast. Once Lord Carstairs was satisfied with the professor's condition, Einstein checked the lord over and did a little touch-up work to make sure that Carstairs was also liberally smeared. Finally ready, Professor Einstein waved the sword, but nothing seemed to happen.
"Oh I say," Lord Carstairs frowned in annoyance. "The spell only worked on you, but I am unaffected."
"No, it only worked on you," the professor started to say, but stopped as enlightenment struck. "Oh, of course! Others see us as demons, but we see our true selves!"
"Indeed? Well, I am looking at a little old demon carrying a stick."
"And I observe a gigantic demon carrying a log."
"Good show, then!" Lord Carstairs said, gesturing at the ledge. "Shall we go?"
Returning to the outside, the professor sheathed the sword, once they were in the moonlight. The men waited for a few precious minutes to see if the illusion would hold with the weapon in its scabbard. When there was no apparent change, Einstein and Carstairs eased themselves over the edge of the cliff and started climbing down the side of the volcanic ridge.
***
A few hours later, they reached the layer of strange mist near the bottom. Experimentally, the lord dropped a coin through and heard it hit the ground this time. Then the professor tested the composition of the mist by dipping the toe of his boot into the fog and withdrawing it quickly to see if there was any change in the leather. The boot appeared to be unaffected, so Einstein and Carstairs climbed down into the mysterious mist. But the explorers still wisely held their breath until they came out the other side and reached clear air once more. Ah, better.
The bottom of the crater was only a few yards away. They reached the ground without any incident, aside from a few scraped knuckles. Flexing their aching hands, Einstein and Carstairs studied the weird mist floating over their heads. It was constantly moving as if stirred by unfelt winds, and the vapor shone with the reflected moonlight casting an almost ghostly illumination across the crater. Spotting the fallen coin atop a boulder, Lord Carstairs suddenly felt the frugal presence of his long-deceased father. He retrieved the gold to tuck it away in a pocket.
"Waste not, want not, eh, lad?" the professor chuckled.
"Well, we are here to save the world," Lord Carstairs said, securely buttoning the pocket in his military uniform. "But afterwards, life goes on."
THAT DARN SQUID GOD Page 22
