The Chronicles of Corum (14 page)

"Welcome to my little shop." Shool’s voice came from behind him. He turned. This time he confronted a beautiful girl of about fifteen. The chuckle that came from the young throat was obscene.

Corum looked around the large room. It was dark and it was cluttered. All manner of plants and stuffed animals filled it. Books and manuscripts teetered on crazily leaning shelves. There were crystals of a peculiar color and cut, bits of armor, jeweled swords, rotting sacks from which treasure, as well as other, nameless, substances, spilled. There were paintings and figurines, an assortment of instruments and gauges, including balances, and what appeared to be clocks with eccentric divisions marked in languages Corum did not know. Living creatures scuffled amongst the piles or chittered in comers. The place stank of dust and mold and death.

"You do not, I think, attract many customers," Corum said.

Shool sniffed. "Tliere are not many I should desire to serve. Now ..." In his young girl's form, he went to a chest that was partially covered by the shining skins of a beast that must have been large and fierce in life. He pushed away the skins and muttered something over the chest Of its own accord, the lid flew back. A cloud of black stuff rose from within and Shool staggered away a pace or two, waving his hands and screaming in a strange speech. The black cloud vanished. Cautiously, Shool approached the chest and peered in. He smacked his lips in satisfaction. ".. . here we are!"

He drew out two sacks, one smaller than the other. He held them up, grinning at Corum. "Your gifts."

"I thought you were going to restore my hand and my eye."

"Not 'restore,' exactly. I am going to give you a much more useful gift than that. Have you heard of the Lost Gods?"

"I have not."

"The Lost Gods who were brothers? Their names were Lord Rhynn and Lord Kwll. They existed even before I came to grace the universe. They became involved in a struggle of some kind, the nature of which is now obscured. They vanished, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, I do not know. But they left a little of themselves behind." He held up the sacks again. "These."

Conim gestured impatiently.

Shool put out his girl's tongue and licked his girl's lips. The old eyes glittered at Corum. "The gifts I have here, they once belonged to those warring Gods. I heard a legend that they fought to the death and only these remained to mark the fact that they had existed at all.” He opened the smaller sack, A large object fell into his hand. He held it out for Corum to see. It was jeweled and faceted. The jewels shone with somber colors, deep reds and blues and blacks.

"It is beautiful," said Conim, "but I ..."

"Wait," Shool emptied the larger sack on the lid of the chest, which had closed. He picked up the object and displayed it.

Corum gasped. It seemed to be a gauntlet with room for five slender fingers and a thumb. It, too, was covered with strange, dark jewels.

'That gauntlet is of no use to me," Corum said. "It is for a left hand with six fingers. I have five fingers and no left hand."

"It is not a gauntlet. It is Kwll's hand. He had four, but he left one behind. Struck off by his brother, I understand . . ."

"Your jokes do not appeal to me, Sorcerer. They are too ghoulish. Again, you waste time."

"You had best get used to my jokes, as you call them, Master Vadhagh."

"I see no reason to."

"These are the gifts. To replace your missing eye—I offer you the Eye of Rhynn. To replace your missing hand—the Hand of Kwll!"

Corum's mouth curved with nausea. “I’ll have nothing of them! I want no dead being's limbs! I thought you would give me back my own! You have tricked me, sorcerer!"

"Nonsense. You do not understand the properties these things possess. They will give you greater powers than any of your race or the Mabden has ever known! The eye can see into areas of time and space never observed before by a mortal. And the hand—the hand can summon aid from those areas. You do not think I would send you into the lair of the Knight of the Swords without some supernatural aid, do you?"

"What is the extent of their powers?"

Shool shrugged his young girl's shoulders. "I have not had the opportunity to test them."

"So there could be danger in using them?"

"Why should there be?"

Corum became thoughtful. Should he accept Shool's disgusting gifts and risk the consequences in order to survive, slay Glandyth, and rescue Rhalina? Or should he prepare to die now and end the whole business?

Shool said, "Think of the knowledge these gifts will bring you. Think of the things you will see on your travels. No mortal has ever been to the domain of the Knight of the Swords before! You can add much to your wisdom, Master Corum, And remember—it is the Knight who is ultimately responsible for your doom and the deaths of your folk . . ."

Corum drew deeply of the musty air. He made up his mind.

"Very well, I will accept your gifts."

"I am honored," Shool said sardonically. He pointed a finger at Corum and Corum reeled backward, fell amongst a pile of bones, and tried to rise. But he felt drowsy. "Continue your slumbers, Master Corum," Shool said.

He was back in the room in which he had originally met Shool. There was a fierce pain in the socket of his blind eye. There was a terrible agony in the stump of his left hand. He felt drained of energy. He tried to look about him, but his vision would not clear.

He heard a scream. It was Rhalina.

"Rhalina! Where are you?"

“I—I am here—Corum. What has been done to you? Your face—your hand . . ."

With his right hand he reached up to touch his blind socket. Something warm shifted beneath his fingers. It was an eye! But it was an eye of an unfamiliar texture and size. He knew then that it was Rhynn's eye. His vision began to clear.

He saw Rhalina's horrified face. She was sitting up in the bed, her back stiff with horror.

He looked down at his left hand. It was of similar proportions to the old, but it was six-fingered and the skin was like that of a jeweled snake.

He staggered as he strove to accept what had happened to him. "They are Shool's gifts," he murmured inanely. "They are the Eye of Rhynn and the Hand of Kwll. They were Gods—the Lost Gods, Shool said. Now I am whole again, Rhalina."

"Whole? You are something more and something less than whole, Corum. Why did you accept such terrible gifts? They are evil. They will destroy you!"

"I accepted them so that I might accomplish the task that Sbool has set me, and thus gain the freedom of us both. I accepted them so that I might seek out Giandyth and, if possible, strangle him with this alien hand. I accepted them because if I did not accept them, I would perish."

"Perhaps," she said softly, "it would be better for us to perish."

The Third Chapter
 Beyond The Fifteen Planes

"What powers I have, Master Corum! I have made myself a God and I have made you a demi-God. They will have us in their legends soon."

"You are already in their legends." Corum turned to confront Shool, who had appeared in the room in the guise of a bearlike creature wearing an elaborate plumed helmet and trews. "And for that matter so are the Vadhagh."

"We'll have our own cycle soon, Master Corum. That is what I meant to say. How do you feel?"

"There is still some pain in my wrist and in my head."

"But no sign of a join, eh? I am a master surgeon! The grafting was perfect and accomplished with the minimum of spells!"

"I see nothing with the Eye of Rhynn, however," Corum said. "I am not sure it works, sorcerer."

Shool rubbed his paws together. "It will take time before your brain is accustomed to it. Here, you will need this, too." He produced something resembling a miniature shield of jewels and enamelwork with a strap attached to it. "It is to put over your new eye."

"And blind myself again!"

"Well, you do not want to be forever peering into those worlds beyond the Fifteen Planes, do you?"

"You mean the eye only sees there?"

"No. It sees here, too, but not always in the same kind of perspective."

Corum frowned suspiciously at the sorcerer. The action made him blink. Suddenly, through his new eye, he saw many new images, while still staring at Shool with his ordinary eye. They were dark images and they shifted until eventually one predominated. "Shool! What is this world?"

"I am not sure. Some say there are another Fifteen Planes which are a kind of distorted mirror image of our own planes. That could be such a place, eh?"

Things boiled and bubbled, appeared and disappeared. Creatures crept upon the scene and then crept back again. Flames curled, land turned to liquid, strange beasts grew to huge proportions and shrank again, flesh seemed to flow and reform.

"I am glad I do not belong to that world," Corum murmured. "Here, Shool, give me the shield."

He took the thing from the sorcerer and positioned it over the eye. The scenes faded and now he saw only Shool and Rhalina—but with both eyes.

"Ah, I did not point out that the shield protects you from visions of the other worlds, not of this one."

"What did you see, Corum?" Rhalina asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Nothing I could easily describe."

Rhalina looked at Shool. "I wish you would take back your gifts, Prince Shool. Such things are not for mortals."

Shool grimaced. "He is not a mortal now. I told you, he is a demi-God."

"And what will the Gods think of that?"

"Well, naturally, some of them will be displeased if they ever discover Master Corum's new state of being. I think it unlikely, however."

Rhalina said grimly, "You talk of these matters too Hghtly, Sorcerer. If Corum does not understand the implications of what you have done to him, I do. There are laws which mortals must obey. You have transgressed those laws and you will be punished—as your creations will be punished and destroyed!"

Shool waved his bear's arms dismissively. "You forget that I have a great deal of power. I shall soon be in a position to defy any God upstart enough to lock swords with me."

"You are insane with pride," she said. "You are only a mortal sorcerer!'"

"Be silent, Mistress Rhalina! Be silent for I can send you to a far worse fate than that which you have just escaped! If Master Corum here were not useful to me, you would both be enjoying some foul form of suffering even now. Watch your tongue. Watch your tongue!"

"We are wasting time again," Corum put in. "I wish to get my task over with so that Rhalina and I can leave this place."

Shool calmed down, turned, and said, "You are a fool to give so much for this creature. She, tike all her kind, fears knowledge, fears the deep, dark wisdom that brings power."

"We'll discuss the heart of the Knight of the Swords," Corum said. "How do I steal it?"

"Come," said Shool.

They stood in a garden of monstrous blossoms that gave off an almost overpoweringly sweet scent. The sun was red in the sky above them. The leaves of the plants were dark, near-black. They rustled.

Shool had returned to his earlier form of a youth dressed in a flowing blue robe. He led Corum along a path.

"This garden I have cultivated for millenia. It has many peculiar plants. Filling most of the island not filled by my castle, it serves a useful purpose. It is a peaceful place in which to relax, it is hard for any unwanted guests to find their way through."

"Why is the island called the Home of the Gorged God?"

"I named it that—after the being from whom I inherited it. Another God used to dwell here, you see, and all feared him. Looking for a safe place where I could continue with my studies, I found the island. But I had heard that a fearsome God inhabited it and, naturally, I was wary. I had only a fraction of my present wisdom then, being little more than a few centuries old, so I knew that I did not have the power to destroy a God."

A huge orchid reached out and stroked Corum's new hand. He pulled it away.

"Then how did you take over his island?" he asked Shool.

"I heard that the God ate children. One a day was sacrificed to him by the ancestors of those you call the Nhadragh. Having plenty of money it occured to me to buy a good number of children and feed them to him all at once, to see what would happen."

"What did happen?"

"He gobbled them all and fell into a gorged slumber.”

"And you crept up and killed him!"

"No such thing! I captured him. He is still in one of his own dungeons somewhere, though he is no longer the fine being he was when I inherited his palace. He was only a little God, of course, but some relative to the Knight of the Swords. That is another reason why the Knight, or any of the others, does not trouble me too much, for I hold Pliproth prisoner."

"To destroy your island would be to destroy their brother?"

"Quite."

"And that is another reason why you must employ me to do this piece of thievery. You are afraid that if you leave they will be able to extinguish you."

"Afraid? Not at all. But I exercise a reasonable degree of caution. That is why I still exist."

"Where is the heart of the Knight of the Swords?"

"Well, it lies beyond the Thousand League Reef, of which you have doubtless heard."

"I believe I read a reference to it in some old Geography. It ties to the north, does it not?" Corum untangled a vine from his leg.

"It does."

"Is that all you can tell me?"

"Beyond the Thousand-League Reef is a place called Urde that is sometimes land and sometimes water. Beyond that is the desert called Dhroonhazat. Beyond the desert are the Kamelands where dwells the Blind Queen, Oorese. And beyond the Ramelands is the Ice Wilderness, where the Brifcling wander."

Corum paused to peel a sticky leaf from his face. The thing seemed to have tiny red lips which kissed him, "And beyond that?" he asked sardonically.

"Why, beyond that is the domain of the Knight of the Swords."

"These strange lands. On which plane are they situated?"

"On all five where the Knight has influence. Your power to move through the planes will be of no great use to you, I regret."