by Rik Hunik
Chapter 4
Roland stepped inside and the entrance door shut behind him, plunging him into darkness except for a glow of red light spilling out from under a door straight ahead. He walked toward the light with the gun leading the way.
The door was a meter wide, with a rounded top, like a tombstone, and when he touched it the door swung open smoothly, pouring crimson light into the corridor. He flexed his fingers, regripped the revolver and stepped into the room.
The door shut behind him. He wished they would quit doing that.
Pillars of gold and silver, entwined with wreaths of flowers made with precious stones, glittered and shone with the colors of sunset. The light streamed from an incredible chandelier on a chain of gold hanging from the four-meter-high ceiling. Thirteen candles surrounded a gigantic pearl, hollowed out and almost transparent, that contained a red gemstone that radiated intense light and a pleasant warmth.
Cloth rustled.
Roland tore his eyes away from the hypnotic orb, but they took several moments to adjust after the glare. The sound repeated. Across the room, seven or eight meters away, against what Roland figured had to be the far wall of the tower, a figure rose from a couch. Roland blinked and started to raise the pistol.
"Roland?"
The soft voice sounded like Berdine's. He blinked again. It looked like her and when she came closer he saw the love in her eyes and knew that it truly was her. He took her into his arms for a brief hug that was made awkward by the gun, and because he turned her so he could scan the rest of the room over her shoulder.
There were a couple of doors, and to one side was a wide staircase curving up along the outside wall in a counterclockwise direction. Near the couch was a table, lit by candles. An assortment of food and drinks had been set out in an attractive display.
"Oh Roland," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "I'm so happy to see you, but you shouldn't have come."
"How could I not come?" He gently pushed her away so he could look at her. "I made it this far, didn't I?"
She nodded.
"Are you okay?"
"They haven't hurt me yet, but I'm scared."
"Where's Ellen?"
"Somewhere higher in the tower." She pointed to the staircase. "I heard her when they first brought me here but I haven't heard or seen her since." Roland held her tight while she muffled a sob into his shoulder.
"What happened?"
"When I came into this world I heard Ellen crying and I saw King Fester standing by that shrine, holding her. When I tried to get to her his minions grabbed me. He laughed as he took her away and then his minions brought me here. How did you find me?"
Roland quickly outlined Mervin's help and his own trip to the tower. When he finished his story his throat was dry from talking and his eyes were drawn to the laden table again. "I'm thirsty," he said, spotting a can of his favorite beer, with its familiar white, blue and red label, condensation misting the sides.
Berdine opened her mouth but said nothing and the expression of sadness that crossed her face didn't register on Roland as he walked stiffly to the table and picked up a the can. Cold droplets ran onto his fingers, and it felt so cool he could almost taste the refreshment. The tab popped with a crisp, satisfying snap and he raised the can toward his lips for a long drink.
Mervin's repeated warnings, playing through his mind, finally impinged on his consciousness. With a sudden effort of will Roland turned his head away, breaking the enchantment with the can so close he could feel the coolness on his cheek, and dashed the can to the floor, spreading foaming beer across the dark stone. "I'll drink not a single drop, nor eat a single crumb, while I remain in Elfland."
Berdine's relief was written plain across her face and she let out a huge sigh, but before either of them could speak they heard the thumping of heavy feet running down the stairs, as if the falling beer can had been a signal.
"It's King Fester," Berdine said in a loud, fear-filled whisper.
Roland experienced a sudden urge to hide behind the couch but he quelled it and stood his ground, holding the gun in both hands, aiming at the staircase as Fester, an obese, gray-skinned humanoid about a meter and a half tall, came charging into view. Long, greasy, black hair poked wildly from under the edge of a thin, gold crown, red sparks shot from his fiercely blazing eyes, he snorted fire and smoke, and as he came raging down the stairs he appeared to grow to tremendous size.
Roland was so startled he forgot to shoot until a gun blazed in Fester's hand and he realized he was under attack, and that Fester's increase in size had been some kind of illusion. He fired back too hastily and missed, so he took more careful aim, but as he squeezed off his second shot he felt Fester's second bullet whip through his hair as it zipped past, distracting him just enough that his golden bullet hit Fester in the upper right arm instead of the heart.
The impact knocked Fester off balance, sending his third shot wild. Roland got too excited and missed.
Fester's next shot creased Roland's arm but he was concentrating so hard it didn't faze him. His shot took Fester in the chest, knocking him backwards, tripping him over the steps where he lay, no longer seeming at all large. Roland lowered his gun and stepped closer to finish Fester with a clean head shot.
Fester suddenly sat up and snapped a shot at Roland. In the split second before the round hole of Fester's gun barrel vanished behind a muzzle-flash, Roland saw that Fester was wearing a bullet-proof vest much like his own. The bullet with Roland's name on it slammed into his chest, sending him flying back, and Fester's next bullet zipped over him as he sprawled onto the floor.
I'm dead, he thought, until he tried to breathe and the pain told him otherwise. The red lamp poured its ruddy light down into his eyes. When he finally sucked some air into his lungs he saw Fester standing at his feet, aiming his gun at Roland's head. Roland saw his finger tighten on the trigger and knew he could not move in time.
Click. Click click. Fester's gun was empty.
The gun seemed to weigh as much as a cannon but Roland raised it even so and shot Fester as he drew his sword. The goblin king staggered back from the impact but his vest saved him from serious injury.
Roland aimed very carefully before he shot again. The gold slug tore through the gold chain and the chandelier fell, right on top of Fester. The orb shattered with a sound like a thousand champagne glasses breaking at once, the red jewel bounced and rolled, then dimmed to a dull glow, leaving the chamber lit by only a handful of candles.
Roland struggled to his feet, dumped the brass from his revolver, frantically dug the final bullet from his pocket and loaded it.
Fester groaned.
Roland kicked Fester's gun away, then reached down for his sword and tossed it across the room. With one hand he lifted one side of the chandelier off Fester and shifted it aside. Dark blood oozed from a mean gash on Fester's head and Roland thought he saw the white gleam of bone through the scalp. The blow probably would have killed a human, but Fester groaned again and, with considerable effort, sat up.
Roland aimed the gun right between Fester's eyes, pulled the hammer back and said, "Where is my daughter? I want her back."
Fester's eyes, now glowing only a dim red, crossed as he focussed on the business end of Roland's gun. Roland's finger tightened on the trigger.
"Don't shoot, don't shoot. She's upstairs, I'll take you to her."
Roland backed off a few steps and kept his gun aimed at Fester's head while the Goblin King struggled to his feet. "Now take off that vest," Roland ordered.
The red in Fester's eyes flared up but he did as he was told, though not very quickly because he had trouble using his wounded right arm. Roland also divested him of an assortment of slender, very sharp knives. He wasn't sure he got them all.
"Let's go."
