Castle War! (10 page)

“All right, you play rough. But two can play.”
 

He held out his right hand. A flame sprang to life on his upturned palm. He turned his hand over and the flame spilled to the ground. The grass blazed up, and he stepped back.
 

Thunder cracked, and rain began to fall. The flames did not go out; they leaped up and roared, spreading, making a path for the undergrowth.
 

“You'll find that water won't quench it,” he called. “Only my counterspell will.”
 

The thunder faded and the rain stopped.
 

“Convinced?”
 

(Affirmative!)
 

He waved his hands and the flames died. Pale smoke rose from the clearing.
 

“Now. How about showing me a way out?”
 

The tricorn stood motionless.
 

He searched the edge of the clearing. The path had reappeared.
 

“Fine. I need a little help, though. I want to find a shortcut across the continent. I'm told that a hellwind blows from here to the mountains of Marnass. Will you show me where I can catch this infernal zephyr?”
 

(Reluctant assent.)
 

He mounted. “Good. Lead on, hat rack.”
 

(Indignation.)
 

“Sorry, couldn't resist.”
 

The tricorn raced ahead on the path. He had trouble keeping up, catching only glimpses of the animal's silky white tail as he rounded bends. The forest breathed its cool breath on him, the trees parted, and the way was made clear.
 

After a while he stopped to give the horse a rest. The tricorn foraged in the bushes to one side up ahead. He sat and massaged his aching legs.
 

He heard a babbling and went down into a nearby gully. Finding a clear stream, he kneeled and drank. The water was crisp, pure, sweet. His shimmering reflection caused him to reflect that he was getting old. He recalled an old family saying:
After three hundred it's patch, patch, patch
....
 

Returning, he mounted and resumed the journey.
 

 

At last he came to the edge of the forest. Ahead were badlands colonized by an occasional stunted tree. The tricorn circled around and darted back into the woods.
 

At his back he felt a warning.
 

(Do not return. Ever!)
 

“Thank you. I won't.”
 

He moved forward. The sun beat down on rocks and little else except tufts of dry grass. A ridge of hills cut across the terrain ahead.
 

A lizard scurried across the trail. Nothing else moved. The sky had turned yellow, vague clouds striping it.
 

A wind suddenly rose, whipping up dust. The horse neighed and reared up. It was a strange wind, and blew good to no one except those who would seek to cheat time and space. That was what he sought, and he attuned himself to its flow. It blew at his back and toward the hills, pushing him. The horse leaped into a canter, then broke stride into a run. He reined in and brought the animal back to a proper gait. Better to maintain a steady pace.
 

The ground seemed to go by faster than the horse moved. The effect was disconcerting at first, but soon he had accustomed himself to yet another anomaly.
 

The hills came up and he climbed, the rate of speed paradoxically increasing as the horse followed a pass marked out by gray boulders. Cliffs threw deep shadows across the trail and slides of talus dumped debris in his path, but the horse was magically surefooted. The wind increased, shrieking at his back.
 

He reached the summit, and the rate of the ground's passing picked up even more. The beast ran at freeway cruising speed, impossibly. Then faster, and faster still.
 

He came down into tableland cut by deep arroyos. Cactuslike plants populated the flats. The nearby ground was a blur, distant scenery passing as in a fast-moving train. Still the speed increased.
 

Clouds grouped, turning dark. Lightning cut the sky at the horizon and rain began to fall. The wind was fierce now, whipping at him and churning up a whirling storm of dust. Bits of dirt and tiny pebbles stung his face, and he spoke a short bit of magic-making to ward them off.
 

The sky darkened and lightning struck to either side. Auroral displays lit up the horizon, fingers of fire brushing distant mountains. His speed was incredible now. The horse seemed to leave the ground ... it did leave the ground.
 

Horse and rider rose into the maelstrom.
 

 

 

 

Queen's Dining Hall

 

Sir Gene had stuffed himself, and now felt a bit queasy. He should have known better than to pile food into a prison-shrunken stomach. Looking over the table, however, he could hardly blame himself. One could not ask for more inducement to gluttony. There was food enough here for an army of gourmands. This castle's Incarnadine was a gracious host. Not that his counterpart was incapable of setting a good table—if you didn't mind a few dishes laced with poison. The dinner entertainment consisted of watching the unlucky diners twitch and heave. Great fun, that.
 

So, knowing this lord of the castle to be a decent sort, he had succumbed. But no matter. He would just sit quietly until the spell passed.
 

“Gene, old buddy!”
 

A great white beast barged into the hall. Snowclaw. Sir Gene's groan was barely audible, and he tried to put on a smile. Like it or not, this horrendous shambling creature was supposed to be a friend.
 

“Hello, Snowclaw. So good to see you again.”
 

“What happened to you? We were looking all over.” The beast threw a tremendous broadax down on the table and took a seat across from Sir Gene.
 

“I did some reconnoitering. Not that it was fruitful.”
 

“Did you find out what that world was out there? Looked like Earth, but nobody's sure.”
 

“No, I didn't think it too wise to blunder into some unknown aspect.”
 

“You showed good sense, which is pretty unusual for you. I was ready to crash in there and try to find you, but Linda sort of talked me out of it.”
 

“She can be very persuasive.”
 

“I know. So. Have any idea what's going on?”
 

“Not a clue, I'm afraid.”
 

“I heard Incarnadine can't get back.”
 

“That's what I hear. Pity.”
 

“Yeah. What are we going to do?”
 

Sir Gene answered truthfully: “I don't quite know.”
 

He thought about it. Here was an ally of sorts: Snowclaw, if the beast could be harnessed. As far as Sir Gene could tell, he seemed cooperative enough. This might prove useful.
 

“Maybe we could go get him with that fancy machine you guys saved my rump with a while back.”
 

“Ah ... perhaps. Perhaps we could.”
 

This was going to be tricky going indeed. What machine could the creature be talking about? The castle had few machines. In fact, Sir Gene was familiar with none of any complexity. But this was another castle.
 

“Nah. Somebody would have thought of that already,” Snowclaw said, “and would have done it. There's got to be some problem.”
 

“I suppose so.”
 

“What's-his-name, the little guy—Jeremy would know.”
 

“Yes,” Sir Gene said. “We should go ask him. Um, where do you think he'd be?”
 

“Up in the laboratory? I dunno. I guess.”
 

“The laboratory. Of course. Shall we go?”
 

If the castle had a laboratory, Sir Gene didn't know where it was. Fortunately Snowclaw led the way. This variation of the castle was proving to be very interesting indeed. Machines, laboratories ... what next?
 

Linda came around a corner and nearly collided with Snowclaw.
 

“Watch yourself,” Snowclaw said, chuckling and wrapping Linda up affectionately.
 

“Snowy, you should get turn signals. Where are you guys going?”
 

“To the laboratory,” Snowclaw said. “What's happening up there? Anything?”
 

“Jeremy is cooking something up with ... well, he's got himself a girlfriend up there.”
 

“Yeah? Who?”
 

“Someone new. She's ... it's hard to explain. Anyway, he's busy with the stuff Lord Incarnadine wants him to do.”
 

“What about using the gizmo to go pick Incarnadine up?”
 

“The
Voyager
? Can't. Well, maybe. Jeremy doesn't know yet. There are problems with that idea. I wouldn't get my hopes up.”
 

“That's too bad.” Snowclaw scratched his abdomen with one bone-white claw. “Well, what can we do?”
 

“Nothing much. Just sit tight. Not a lot is happening. We've lost contact with Earth, but that's nothing new. Portal problems we can deal with. It's this weird stuff that Lord Incarnadine said to expect that worries me.”
 

Sir Gene said, “What exactly did he say we should expect?”
 

“Well, something about anti-universes. And then—”
 

Linda looked over Sir Gene's shoulder.
 

“Oh, here comes Tyrene. Maybe he has some news about Mr. Dalton.”
 

Sir Gene turned. When he saw the festering mole on Tyrene's cheek, his hand went to the hilt of his sword.
 

Tyrene was already lunging with his broadsword. Sir Gene stepped back, drew, and beat off the attack. Then, sidestepping as Tyrene passed, he delivered a decapitating blow to the back of the neck, which would have done its job if the blade had not caught the edge of the Guardsman's helmet. The helmet flew and Tyrene went sprawling, stunned.
 

“Lord Incarnadine!”
 

Sir Gene whirled. Incarnadine was standing a few feet away, a smirk curling his lip. Two Guardsmen flanked him, swords drawn.
 

“Very good, Sir Gene. And I suppose you've already dispatched your counterpart.”
 

Sir Gene's eyes darted between Incarnadine and Linda, who looked baffled. Snowclaw also seemed confused. He raised his broadax.
 

Incarnadine squinted. “It is
you
, is it not? You have the requisite dissolute mien about you. I can't imagine two such creatures. No matter. And this”—he turned to Linda—“must be the Lady Linda. My, my. Good teeth, this one. Have you had her yet, Sir Gene?”
 

Linda's mouth was hanging open. She closed it, shook her head, and said, “Wait a minute. What's going on?”
 

“I've just come to pay a friendly visit,” Incarnadine said. “I live in the castle next door.”
 

“Huh?”
 

Sir Gene said, “It's not the Incarnadine you know.”
 

“What do you mean?”
 

“Mirror aspect, my dear,” Incarnadine said. “It's been known to happen. An aspect turns into a mirror of the castle itself. Sometimes a distorting mirror, sometimes not.”
 

Linda shook her head slowly, saying, “You mean you're not the real Lord Incarnadine?”
 

“Oh, come now. Surely you don't think that I would feel I was anything
but
the real Incarnadine. The mirror formed in my castle. Sir Gene here did us the favor of blundering into it, and we followed him. And here he is, and here we are, and ... well, thereby hangs the tale.”
 

“What do you think you will gain by coming here?” Sir Gene asked.
 

“Don't quite know. I've never explored a mirror aspect. Thought it might be fun. By the way, where is the lord of this castle? The
real
Incarnadine, if you insist.”
 

Sir Gene and Linda were silent.
 

“Hm. Doubtless we'll meet eventually. Judging from the intelligence we've gathered, I'd say our forces are superior. And we do have the element of surprise.”
 

The hallway behind Incarnadine had filled with milling Guardsmen.
 

Incarnadine pointed at Snowclaw. “What the devil is that monster doing here? I thought I gave orders never to let...” He broke off suddenly and smiled. “But of course, I forget. Excuse me. Snowclaw, is it not? Yes. Well, no matter.” He turned to the Guardsman next to him. “Kill them all.”
 

“Yes, Your Majesty!”
 

Incarnadine turned away and the Guardsmen edged forward.
 

Sir Gene and Linda backstepped, but Snowclaw stood his ground, broadax raised.
 

The Guardsmen hesitated. They knew the beast they faced.
 

Snowclaw said over his shoulder, “Run, you guys!”
 

Sir Gene took off.
 

“Move!” Snowclaw barked.
 

Linda saw three Guardsmen charge Snowclaw. As she ran she heard the clash of steel and then a scream. At the corner of the intersecting hallway she cast a glance back. Two of the Guardsmen were down and the third was retreating.