The courts of chaos by Roger Zelazny

laughter then.
    “He was quite decent about it.”
    “I’ll bet. But then, he hadn’t much choice once you’d done it. Fat lot of good it will do you.”
    “It’s doing me fine,” I said, swinging it lightly in his direction.
    He fluttered away from it.
    “Hey! That was not funny!” I laughed.
    “I thought it was.” I walked on by.
    For a long while, I made my way through a marshy area. An occasional gust of wind would clear the way nearby. Then I would pass it, or the fogs would shift over it once again. Occasionally, I seemed to hear a snatch of music-from what direction, I could not tell-slow, and somewhat stately, produced by a steel-stringed instrument..
    As I slogged along, I was hailed from somewhere to my left:
    “Stranger! Halt and regard me!”
    Wary, I halted. Couldn’t see a damned thing through that fog, though.
    “Hello,” I said. “Where are you?”
    Just then, the fogs broke for a moment and I beheld a huge head, eyes on a level with my own. They belonged to what seemed a giant body, sunk up to the shoulders in a quag. The head was bald, the skin pale as milk, with a stony texture to it. The dark eyes probably seemed even darker than they really were by way of contrast.
    “I see,” I said then. “You are in a bit of a fix. Can you free your arms?”
    “If I strain mightily,” came the reply.
    “Well, let me check about for something stable you can grab onto. You ought to have a pretty good reach there.”
    “No. That is not necessary.”
    “Don’t you want to get out? I thought that was why you hollered.”
    “Oh, no. I simply wanted you to regard me.”
    I moved nearer and stared, for the fog was beginning to shift again.
    “All right,” I said. “I have seen you.”
    “Do you feel my plight?”
    “Not particularly, if you will not help yourself or accept help.”
    “What good would it do me to free myself?”
    “It is your question. You answer it.”
    I turned to go.
    “Wait! Where do you travel?”
    “South, to appear in a morality play.”
    Just then, Hugi flew out of the fog and landed atop the head. He pecked at it and laughed.
    “Don’t waste your time, Corwin. There is much less here than meets the eye,” he said.
    The giant lips shaped my name. Then; “He is indeed the one?”
    “That’s him, all right,” Hugi replied.
    “Listen, Corwin,” said the sunken giant. “You are going to try to stop the Chaos, aren’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do not do it. It is not worth it. I want things to end. I desire a release from this condition.”
    “I already offered to help you out. You turned me down.”
    “Not that sort of release. An end to the whole works.”
    “That is easily done,” I said. “Just duck your head and take a deep breath.”
    “It is not only personal termination that I desire, but an end to the whole foolish game.”
    “I believe there are a few other folks around who would rather make their own decisions on the matter.”
    “Let it end for them, too. There will come a time when they are in my position and will feel the same way.”
    “Then they will possess the same option. Good day.”
    I turned and walked on.
    “You will, too!” he called after me.
    As I hiked along, Hugi caught up with me and perched on the end of my staff.
    “It’s neat to sit on old Ygg’s limb now he can’t-Yikes!”
    Hugi sprang into the air and circled.
    “Burned my foot! How’d he do that?” he cried.
    I laughed.
    “Beats me.”
    He fluttered for a few moments, then made for my right shoulder.
    “Okay if I rest here?”
    “Go ahead.”
    “Thanks.”
    He settled.
    “The Head is really a mental basket case, you know.”
    I shrugged my shoulders and he spread his wings for balance.
    “He is groping after something,” he went on, “but proceeding incorrectly by holding the world responsible for his own failings.”
    “No. He would not even grope to get out of the mud,” I said.
    “I meant philosophically.”
    “Oh, that sort of mud. Too