to destroy Serannian?”
Both Hero and Eldin looked at Dass in amazement. “Escape?” said Eldin. “Limnar, you never fail to astound me. Sometimes I think you’re daft as Hero! How in hell can we possibly escape?”
“Damn it, I don’t know,” Dass answered, “but if—just if —one of us does live through this …”
“All right,” said Hero, “listen and I’ll tell you what I think. Zura the woman told me that anyone in the dreamlands who dies a horrible death ends up in Zura the land, as a zombie in her Charnel Gardens. In other words, all her subjects are dead. Well now, during the Bad Days there must have been a fairly regular flow of unhappily defunct folk into Zura, but since then things have been pretty quiet …”
“So?” Eldin pressed, interested despite himself.
“Corpses,” Hero informed, “rot! Zura the woman needs a regular source of supply. The fall of Serannian out of the sky would mean a massive injection of life—excuse me, death—into her Charnel Gardens. I think that that was the initial idea, but since then it’s expanded. Gone to her head. Now she wants to be Queen of Nightmares, mistress of all she surveys. And where the dreamlands are concerned, she wants to survey all!”
“She wants to murder everyone in the land of Earth’s dreams?” Dass gasped.
“That’s the way I read it, yet,” Hero nodded. “And it looks like we’re to be among her first victims. Here she comes now!”
“Him,” said Zura, striding up close and pointing at Eldin. “The ungainly one. See how the ropes chafe him? Poor creature. Him we shall set free from his misery at once … From all misery!”
“Ah, Zura, you’ve come to your senses at last!” cried Eldin. “Hero would be no good to a woman like you. He’s only a pup in my employ. Come now, set me free and we’ll—”
“Silence!” she snapped, and to her crew: “Fetch the dog!”
Kicking and struggling and roaring like a wounded
bull, Eldin was cut loose and dragged across the deck, then prodded with sword-points until he swayed out onto the narrow plank. A wind had come up and The Cadaver was rolling a little, so that Eldin shuffled and danced to keep his balance as he was prodded to the plank’s outer extreme. To get him into position, Zura’s zombie crew used long, sharply pointed poles.
Hero had gone chalk white against the black mast. Straining his neck to watch Eldin’s performance, his muscles never ceased from bunching and cording as he put every effort into bursting free; but all in vain. Dass, too, was distressed almost to tears. “One at a time,” he kept saying over and over. “One at a time, and we don’t stand a chance. And poor Eldin, he’s first to go. One at a time, Hero, one at a time …”
“Oh, for my sword,” roared Eldin as he wavered and teetered at the end of the plank. “Is this any way for a man to go? With empty hand? A man who’s been a fighter all his dream-life?”
Hearing him, Zura nodded to one of her crew and Eldin’s straight sword was produced. She took it, weighed it for a second, gave it into the crumbling hand of a great black Pargan who threw it, without delay, toward Eldin. At that exact moment the ship gave a great heave to starboard as a sidewind caught at her sails. Eldin, thrown off balance, nevertheless reached for the sword and snatched it from the air. That was the end of it. He cast one last despairing glance in the direction of Hero and Dass. For a second only his eyes met Hero’s—then he was gone.
“Damn and blast your foul black heart , Zura!” Hero howled, anguish choking off his words on her name. He gasped a while longer, gulping at the air. Then brokenly, more quietly, he continued. “Throw me down next, Zura. Me …”
“As you wish,” she nodded, ropes of black hair blowing in the wind. She came closer and stood on tiptoe to stare into Hero’s eyes. “But first … a parting kiss?” She licked her lips and held her face up to him.
The
Both Hero and Eldin looked at Dass in amazement. “Escape?” said Eldin. “Limnar, you never fail to astound me. Sometimes I think you’re daft as Hero! How in hell can we possibly escape?”
“Damn it, I don’t know,” Dass answered, “but if—just if —one of us does live through this …”
“All right,” said Hero, “listen and I’ll tell you what I think. Zura the woman told me that anyone in the dreamlands who dies a horrible death ends up in Zura the land, as a zombie in her Charnel Gardens. In other words, all her subjects are dead. Well now, during the Bad Days there must have been a fairly regular flow of unhappily defunct folk into Zura, but since then things have been pretty quiet …”
“So?” Eldin pressed, interested despite himself.
“Corpses,” Hero informed, “rot! Zura the woman needs a regular source of supply. The fall of Serannian out of the sky would mean a massive injection of life—excuse me, death—into her Charnel Gardens. I think that that was the initial idea, but since then it’s expanded. Gone to her head. Now she wants to be Queen of Nightmares, mistress of all she surveys. And where the dreamlands are concerned, she wants to survey all!”
“She wants to murder everyone in the land of Earth’s dreams?” Dass gasped.
“That’s the way I read it, yet,” Hero nodded. “And it looks like we’re to be among her first victims. Here she comes now!”
“Him,” said Zura, striding up close and pointing at Eldin. “The ungainly one. See how the ropes chafe him? Poor creature. Him we shall set free from his misery at once … From all misery!”
“Ah, Zura, you’ve come to your senses at last!” cried Eldin. “Hero would be no good to a woman like you. He’s only a pup in my employ. Come now, set me free and we’ll—”
“Silence!” she snapped, and to her crew: “Fetch the dog!”
Kicking and struggling and roaring like a wounded
bull, Eldin was cut loose and dragged across the deck, then prodded with sword-points until he swayed out onto the narrow plank. A wind had come up and The Cadaver was rolling a little, so that Eldin shuffled and danced to keep his balance as he was prodded to the plank’s outer extreme. To get him into position, Zura’s zombie crew used long, sharply pointed poles.
Hero had gone chalk white against the black mast. Straining his neck to watch Eldin’s performance, his muscles never ceased from bunching and cording as he put every effort into bursting free; but all in vain. Dass, too, was distressed almost to tears. “One at a time,” he kept saying over and over. “One at a time, and we don’t stand a chance. And poor Eldin, he’s first to go. One at a time, Hero, one at a time …”
“Oh, for my sword,” roared Eldin as he wavered and teetered at the end of the plank. “Is this any way for a man to go? With empty hand? A man who’s been a fighter all his dream-life?”
Hearing him, Zura nodded to one of her crew and Eldin’s straight sword was produced. She took it, weighed it for a second, gave it into the crumbling hand of a great black Pargan who threw it, without delay, toward Eldin. At that exact moment the ship gave a great heave to starboard as a sidewind caught at her sails. Eldin, thrown off balance, nevertheless reached for the sword and snatched it from the air. That was the end of it. He cast one last despairing glance in the direction of Hero and Dass. For a second only his eyes met Hero’s—then he was gone.
“Damn and blast your foul black heart , Zura!” Hero howled, anguish choking off his words on her name. He gasped a while longer, gulping at the air. Then brokenly, more quietly, he continued. “Throw me down next, Zura. Me …”
“As you wish,” she nodded, ropes of black hair blowing in the wind. She came closer and stood on tiptoe to stare into Hero’s eyes. “But first … a parting kiss?” She licked her lips and held her face up to him.
The
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