jerky, creaking movements and moldering aspect froze the adventurer solid where he stood framed in Zura’s doorway. The thing had a short, wide-bladed sword in its claw of a hand, and as Zura pointed at Hero and screamed a command, so it lurched forward.
Galvanized into action, Hero ducked under the zombie’s arc of steel and caught at the stringy wrist which controlled the sword. A moment more and he had wrested the weapon free—the entire hand, too!—and with a single sweep decapitated the cadaver which had been Zura’s “lover.” Collapsing, the body of the poor thing fell against him and threw spindly arms about his neck. With a cry of horror and loathing Hero tried to
disengage himself, only to be surrounded in a moment by the rest of ship’s graveyard crew. No longer having room to move, still he surged and bounded in their midst as they took away his sword and heaped themselves upon him. He found himself forced to his knees, saw the bright gleam of a blade where bony hand lifted it above his head, and—
“Hold!” came Zura’s command, her voice ringing loud and clear over the creak of leathery joints and the clacking of bones. “No, no, lads, don’t kill him. Not that way, at least. I want him to come to me as a corpse, but he can’t come without his head, now can he? So let’s play a little game with our guests instead, should we? That most delightful of all games.” Her voice became a dangerous purr: “Poor David, did my perfumes make your head spin? Well, what better way to clear a dizzy head than a short walk in the sweet, clear air, eh?”
She laughed and made to chuck Hero under his chin where he was held in tight restraint, but he jerked back his head with a growl of disgust. Zura’s eyes hardened and her lips curled into a sneer. She turned swiftly and pointed to the ship’s rail. “Get out the plank!” she snapped her orders to the zombie crew. “There’s no shorter, sweeter walk in all the dreamlands than that!”
While Hero was roped back into position alongside his colleagues at the base of the mainmast, a narrow plank was dragged into view and made fast to the deck so that one end projected far out over the abyss of air. Limnar Dass had regained consciousness by now and his eyes were taking in all of the activity at the ship’s rail. To Hero he said:
“This game she plans for us. Do you know it, my friend?”
“I’ve heard of it,” Hero gloomily answered. “A so-called
‘sport’ of olden-day pirates in the waking world. This must be Zura’s version. But better by far than some of the games she likes to play.”
Eldin snorted his disgust. “When I saw her drag you away into her cabin there, I said to myself, ‘well, that’s us in the clear. She’ll be so taken with him that we’ll all three be set free.’ Huh! I might have known you’d let me down again. It would be a different story if she’d chosen me.”
“Would it?” said Hero. “Let me tell you, old lad, you’d be far better off with a leper in the final stages of disintegration. Our little Zura there is a mobile cesspit!”
“Hero,” answered Eldin. “let’s not fool each other now, not in what promises to be our final hour. Truth to tell, I’d rather live in a damn cesspit than walk that plank!”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Hero shook his head.
“Damn me, I know my own mind!” snarled the other. “Don’t tell me what I would or—”
“Why don’t you two shut up!” hissed Dass. “If you must fight, save it until they cut us free of this mast. Personally, if I’m to die I’ll take as many of these zombies with me as I can.”
“The crew doesn’t mean a thing without Zura,” Hero informed. “She’s the threat. If you’ve got to die a martyr—certainly if you want to save Serannian—Zura’s the one to kill.
“What did you find out?” Dass urgently questioned. “Quickly, for one of us might yet escape to carry a message back to Kuranes. Have you discovered why Zura wishes
Galvanized into action, Hero ducked under the zombie’s arc of steel and caught at the stringy wrist which controlled the sword. A moment more and he had wrested the weapon free—the entire hand, too!—and with a single sweep decapitated the cadaver which had been Zura’s “lover.” Collapsing, the body of the poor thing fell against him and threw spindly arms about his neck. With a cry of horror and loathing Hero tried to
disengage himself, only to be surrounded in a moment by the rest of ship’s graveyard crew. No longer having room to move, still he surged and bounded in their midst as they took away his sword and heaped themselves upon him. He found himself forced to his knees, saw the bright gleam of a blade where bony hand lifted it above his head, and—
“Hold!” came Zura’s command, her voice ringing loud and clear over the creak of leathery joints and the clacking of bones. “No, no, lads, don’t kill him. Not that way, at least. I want him to come to me as a corpse, but he can’t come without his head, now can he? So let’s play a little game with our guests instead, should we? That most delightful of all games.” Her voice became a dangerous purr: “Poor David, did my perfumes make your head spin? Well, what better way to clear a dizzy head than a short walk in the sweet, clear air, eh?”
She laughed and made to chuck Hero under his chin where he was held in tight restraint, but he jerked back his head with a growl of disgust. Zura’s eyes hardened and her lips curled into a sneer. She turned swiftly and pointed to the ship’s rail. “Get out the plank!” she snapped her orders to the zombie crew. “There’s no shorter, sweeter walk in all the dreamlands than that!”
While Hero was roped back into position alongside his colleagues at the base of the mainmast, a narrow plank was dragged into view and made fast to the deck so that one end projected far out over the abyss of air. Limnar Dass had regained consciousness by now and his eyes were taking in all of the activity at the ship’s rail. To Hero he said:
“This game she plans for us. Do you know it, my friend?”
“I’ve heard of it,” Hero gloomily answered. “A so-called
‘sport’ of olden-day pirates in the waking world. This must be Zura’s version. But better by far than some of the games she likes to play.”
Eldin snorted his disgust. “When I saw her drag you away into her cabin there, I said to myself, ‘well, that’s us in the clear. She’ll be so taken with him that we’ll all three be set free.’ Huh! I might have known you’d let me down again. It would be a different story if she’d chosen me.”
“Would it?” said Hero. “Let me tell you, old lad, you’d be far better off with a leper in the final stages of disintegration. Our little Zura there is a mobile cesspit!”
“Hero,” answered Eldin. “let’s not fool each other now, not in what promises to be our final hour. Truth to tell, I’d rather live in a damn cesspit than walk that plank!”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Hero shook his head.
“Damn me, I know my own mind!” snarled the other. “Don’t tell me what I would or—”
“Why don’t you two shut up!” hissed Dass. “If you must fight, save it until they cut us free of this mast. Personally, if I’m to die I’ll take as many of these zombies with me as I can.”
“The crew doesn’t mean a thing without Zura,” Hero informed. “She’s the threat. If you’ve got to die a martyr—certainly if you want to save Serannian—Zura’s the one to kill.
“What did you find out?” Dass urgently questioned. “Quickly, for one of us might yet escape to carry a message back to Kuranes. Have you discovered why Zura wishes
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