Castle Perilous (21 page)

The great arctic beast stood near the headless bodies of two of Vorn's infantrymen, his broadax raised high. Two more soldiers flanked him, swords drawn.

“They will all die!” the first one shouted.

“Snowclaw, you better do what they say,” Gene said. “You, too, Kwip.”

Kwip dropped his sword.

Snowclaw growled, then said, “Aw, Gene, we can take 'em.”

“No way, Snowy.”

Snowclaw snorted and threw down his mighty ax.

The soldiers were looking toward the door. Gene turned and saw a woman in a bright orange gown slowly walking down the terraced slope. She held her arms straight out, each hand holding a long metal rod that pointed forward. Her line of sight was aligned intently between them.

She reached the circular floor and walked past Snowclaw, oblivious to him and the mangled bodies. Arms folded, Snowclaw regarded her in puzzlement. She walked on, moving in the direction of the dark boulder. The rods began to vibrate violently. She took a few more steps, and then the rods flew from her hands.

Gene ducked as they streaked by. He heard a clinking sound and looked toward the base of the rock. The two silver rods clung to the stone as if to a great magnet.

“So,” the woman said. She stood regarding the rock, then elevated her gaze to the jewel atop it. “Of course . . . of course.”

Presently her attention was drawn to Gene. She looked him up and down, then asked, “Who are you?”

“The name's Gene Ferraro.”

“How did you find this chamber?”

“Just wandered in. Why?”

She did not answer, moving past him toward Linda and Jacoby. She looked the fat man over, then turned to Linda. “Are you a virgin?”

“Huh?”

“Have you known men?”

“What kind of — ”

“Answer the question or it will go badly for you.”

“It's none of your darned business.”

Melydia slapped her face. “I ask you again. Are you a virgin?”

Linda was shocked, unbelieving. “No! Okay? No, I'm not.”

“I thought not. Pity. A female is always preferable, but I suppose I can make do with the boy.” She turned and cast her eyes about the cathedral-like chamber. “I was beginning to think that there was no way into this room.” Frowning, she noticed the elevator door high in the wall. “That is most strange.”

“Look, what do you want with us?” Gene said.

She walked slowly back toward him. “What were you doing in this place?”

“I already told you that. We're lost. We want to go back to our own world. We were trying to find it.”

“Odd, then, that you should be here in the Hall of the Brain.”

“Is that what you call this cross between St. Peter's and Madison Square Garden? As I said, we're here by accident. You were right about this room not having a door. We had to create one to get in. We had no idea what was here.”

“Indeed? And what of the disturbance we heard a while ago? Was that your doing?”

“Not ours,” Gene said. “We were nearby when it happened, but we don't know what it was or what caused it.”

“I see.” Melydia turned and headed toward Snowclaw. “And what manner of hell-spawned beast is this?”

“What's it to you, lady?” Snowclaw answered.

Melydia's right hand came out from the folds of her gown and performed a few quick motions.

Snowclaw howled and threw himself against the iron bars of the cage that had suddenly materialized around him.

Melydia took a deep breath. “I surprise even myself. Ordinarily I would need an hour to bring forth an object of that size, but in this place . . .” Her eyes sought the ceiling. Her whisper came softly. “Incarnadine, thy fate is sealed!”

“Move back!” one of the soldiers told Gene.

Ten minutes later Gene, Kwip, Linda, and Jacoby were bound, hands behind them, but were free to walk. The soldiers had searched them for hidden weapons. They had rummaged through Kwip's backpack and discovered dried meat and journey cake. They divvied it up and were now taking a meal break.

Melydia drew one infantryman aside. “Take them wherever you wish, as long as it is away from this place. Do not wander far, as you might lose your way. Kill them all.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She went to the Stone.

“Do you hear me?”

I hear. You have found it.

“I have found you as well.”

Indeed? I sense your closeness.

“Hear me. A while ago you underwent an unusual perturbation. Did you perceive it?”

Yes.

“Do you know what it was, or what caused it?”

It was . . . a loss.

“A loss? Of what?”

A long silence, then: Alas, I cannot say.

“Very well. It may not be important.”

I will soon be free.

“You will. And you will remember your liberator, heed her, and do her bidding.”

It is difficult to say. Only one has ever commanded me. His name is no longer in my memory.

“Ervoldt commanded you.”

A slight tremor vibrated the floor.

I remember! I recall the day. It was he who put me here, in this place that is not a place. It was he who enthralled me.

“Yes, and it is I who will set you free.”

 

 

 

Family Residence

 

there was nothing left to do but rest.

He lay abed and pondered what might have caused the spasm of a short while ago. The castle periodically underwent minor convulsions, but that one had been different. He had never experienced its like. Try as he might, he could not convince himself that Melydia had been responsible, although her spell-casting might commence at any moment.

He was loath to contact the voice, but decided it would have to be done.

“Attend me,” he spoke.

He was surprised when the voice did not respond within a reasonable time.

“Attend me,” he commanded.

I hear.

“You did not come when summoned.”

I was otherwise engaged.

“How can this be possible?”

Another speaks to me.

“Indeed? This is unusual.”

You are no longer the only one, son of Ervoldt.

He laughed. “I see you are being well tutored.”

I have forgotten many things. I must learn.

“Why?”

In order to regain my former existence.

“Yes, of course. Enough of this. I wish to know the nature of the paroxysm you experienced a short while ago.”

I do not know what it was. The other has also asked.

His eyebrows rose. “I see. And what did you tell her?”

What I told you.

He nodded.

Also . . .

He waited. “Yes?”

That it was a loss. I can characterize it better now. It was insignificant, but it was a loss nonetheless.

He sat up. “Can you tell me what was lost?”

A long pause. Then, Part of what constitutes me. I am no longer the sum of my parts. I am less.

“Indeed? This is news. Can you elaborate further?”

No.

“Do you know your name?”

A single bead of sweat formed on his forehead as he waited.

Finally, No. Still am I nameless, still am I in thrall. But the time will come when I will once more beat the air with my wings.

“Before that time comes, tell me this. Could the loss have been the result of a taking away of something?”

Yes! That was it. What I have lost was taken from me.

Breath slowly went out of him. “Good,” he said. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

He rose and left the room. In the next he turned to the right and exited through an arch, coming into a third room with a few tables and benches, a large fireplace at its farther end. He stopped and faced an area of wall demarcated by two stone pilasters.

He extended his arms and touched both index fingers together. Then he drew his arms apart.

The portion of wall described by the pilasters disappeared, revealing the interior of a charmingly furnished apartment. The two Guardsmen on the other side of the portal came to attention. They saluted as he walked through. He nodded.

“How goes it?” he asked one.

“All's well, sire.”

“Is my family up and about yet?”

“It is still early morning here, sire.”

“Pity to wake them, but I must. I'm running out of time.”

“You will prevail, sire.”

He smiled. “I believe you.”

He moved through a large sitting room that opened onto a veranda and bright blue morning. Next were several utility rooms, and then a long hallway, at the end of which two more Guardsmen stood flanking an intricately carved wooden door. They saluted, then one man carefully opened the door for him. He stepped through, and the door closed quietly behind him.

He checked the children's suite first. His son had thrown off the bed covers. He spread a blanket over the sleeping boy, then went into his daughter's room. She lay on her back, sunlight making her small, oval face glow with radiant innocence. He touched his lips to her forehead, then smoothed her long dark hair. He moved to the window and adjusted the blind so that the light wouldn't wake her.

He walked quietly into the master bedroom. His wife was sitting up in bed, smiling at him.

“I heard you.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No, I was awake.” She held out her arms. “Come.”

They lay together quietly for a moment.

At length she said, “It's over?”

“Not quite.”

“Then there is no change? We'll lose the castle?”

“That may be.”

She rolled to her side and faced him. “I don't care. We have a good life here.”

“We do. But that is not the issue.”

“What is, then? You are vice-regent here. Is that not enough power, enough wealth?”

“Dearest, it's hardly a question of lust for riches or power.”

She frowned. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

“Don't be.”

“I never wanted to be queen. I care nothing for that wasteland and its drafty old castle. I'm sorry. I don't.”

“I know. It doesn't matter.”

“You love it so. It's such a pity. I cry for you.”

“Do not. I have not lost it yet.”

“Oh, she is evil beyond measure, beyond understanding.”

“She is mad, poor woman.”

“Poor woman? How can you think her deserving of pity when — ”

He covered her mouth and made a shushing sound.

She was silent.

He removed his hand, kissed her cheek and said, “I must go.”

“So soon?”

“Something has come up. A matter that needs my closest attention. Actually, it is a bit of hope.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. But I will know more after some investigation.”

He got up and went to the open window, looked out. A bright low sun threw spider webs of light across the sea, and the breakers churned and foamed in sparkling silver and blue-green. Nearby a tall palm swayed in the salt breeze.

He turned toward the bed. She knelt with her thighs wide, a stripe of morning light across her high breasts, her dark eyes sad and pleading. He held out his arms and she sprang from the bed and came to him. They embraced in sunlight.

“Stay,” she said. “Let that world end, if it must.”

“You don't mean it,” he said, caressing her soft skin.

“Of course not. But may I not have my secret wishes?”

“I have mine,” he said. “In my arms now.”

“My belovèd!”

They moved to the bed. Because he thought it might be the last time, he cherished every touch, every throb of fire, every thrust of her hips against his, every sound she made, and all the love she had to give him.

Afterward she lay with eyes closed. He got up and dressed, making few sounds. For a few moments he regarded her lithe sun-browned body stretched out across the sheets. Then he turned to go.

“Incarnadine.”

He stopped. “Yes, my love?”

She was sitting up. “How many worlds do you inhabit? How many lives do you lead?”

He grinned. “If I had more than one life, my dearest bride, I would give them all to you.”

Her smile faded as he left.

 

 

 

Lower Levels

 

“beware the girl. She is a witch.”

There were only five soldiers left and four prisoners to dispose of. But they were an efficient unit. One stayed behind to guard Melydia and the servants.

They marched double file, a soldier and a prisoner, the sergeant-major, who now commanded, in the lead with Linda. Leaving the Hall of the Brain, they walked the passageway that circumscribed it, then took one of the corridors that radiated outward.

Gene was thinking furiously. He knew Linda was too. He hoped she could come up with something. He had no doubt that time was rapidly running out. These guys weren't going to buy them lunch, that was for sure. These guys didn't buy anyone lunch, or drink Perrier with a twist of lime, or put on their Asics Tigers in the morning and run five miles, or talk about their Porsches or their BMWs, any of that stuff. They didn't ordinarily do much but eat, sleep, and kill, with a little rape thrown in for savor.

They turned left at a cross tunnel, proceeding down it until they came to a small alcove.

“This is far enough,” the sergeant-major barked. He drew his sword. “Let's be about it.”

My God, Gene thought as the soldier guarding him pushed him toward the alcove, they are actually going to kill us.

A deep-throated growl came from farther down the tunnel.

The sergeant-major whirled. Out of the shadows bounded a tawny, full-maned lion in royal rage, its bared teeth white and gleaming, though not as brightly nor as fearsomely as the dentition belonging to the saber-tooth tiger that stalked angrily behind him.

However, it was the leopard that ran past both of them and tore out the sergeant-major's throat. Then the scene in the tunnel became two-dozen episodes of Wild Kingdom running at once.