"You jest," Red said. "You are pulling my wing."

"Perhaps a sample for your edification?"

With that, the Harskeel produced a small bra.s.s bowl from its purse and held it out for the bat to inspect.

Red took the bowl and looked at it carefully. "This is empty," the bat said. He rapped a knuckle against the metal, producing a hollow clink. "I see no blood."

The Harskeel retrieved the bowl. "I wished you to be a.s.sured there was no trickery involved." The Harskeel pushed its shirt-sleeves back, showing its arms to be bare, and held the small bra.s.s bowl cupped in its hands. It began to speak quietly in a language that it knew none around it could understand.

The Harskeel finished its incantation.

The bowl began to fill. Dark liquid welled quickly, reaching the brim of the bowl and forming a meniscus.

The Harskeel handed the bowl to Red, who sniffed it.

"Why, it smells just like-"

"-blood," the Harskeel finished. "Go ahead, taste it."

Red looked at the blood and his feeding tube started to flick out, then stopped, "How do I know it is not poisoned?"

The Harskeel smiled. "You do not. However, why should I bother? If I had wanted you dead, I could have easily had you impaled upon three pikes earlier."

Red considered this. "That makes good sense." He extruded his feeding tube and inserted it into the bowl of liquid. Faster than it had come, the blood vanished.

"Why, this is excellent! The best I have ever tasted!"

"So glad you liked it."

"This spell, what would it take to obtain it? And how much of this nectar can it produce?"

"I thought you might get to that. The spell has limits, of course. You might get as much as, oh, six or seven barrels." "Sevenbarrels ? How... how wonderful! We could feast a hundred of us on that."

"Of course the spell will recharge itself after a few days, and be able to make that much more each time."

"I must have it! Ask anything!"

The Harskeel grinned. Truly these bats were not adept at trading. In fact, the spell would produce a half dozen barrels of blood, but only once. Were this fluid not consumed rapidly, it would clot within a matter of hours, making it totally useless. Of course by the time the bats found that out, the Harskeel planned to be long gone.

"I am following someone who escaped via this body of water," the Harskeel said. "I require a boat, and someone who can tow it as well."

"That's all?"

"I am a generous sort."

Red glanced at the empty bowl. "Well, I must confess that there is little free wood in the caves. Boats are normally made from wood."

"I care not if the craft is made from dung, so long as it floats."

"Hmm. I am certain that we can come up with what you require. I shall convey this offer to my brothers and we will most a.s.suredly manage something. You, ah, will wait right here until I return?"

"Indeed I shall."

"I shall hurry." Red gathered himself to leap into flight, then paused. "You might want to tell Zate to stay his pike."

The Harskeel laughed. "No problem, Red, my friend."

With that, the bat zipped into the air and darted away.

The Harskeel watched the bat flit off through the nearest exit. It was very pleased with itself. A small spell that would buy him the barbarian's capture was cheap enough. If all of the bats were as gullible as Red, the transaction would be as smooth as a looking gla.s.s. They could be easily bluffed and tricked; Zate's skill with a pike, for instance, was such that he would be most lucky to hit a man-sized target at two paces, much less a flying bat at five times that distance. Pikes were not meant to be thrown; it would take a stronger man than Zate to manage such a task.

"This river seems to go on forever," Elashi said.

"Aye," Conan responded. "And it seems also to be curving to our right."

"Best hope we come to a stopping point soon," Tull said. "Look."

Conan and Elashi followed the direction of Tull's pointing finger. Conan saw what the man meantimmediately, although Elashi did not. "What?" she asked. "I see nothing amiss."

"The fish rides lower in the water," Conan said. "Observe the'steps' I cut out."

Indeed, it was obvious that their boat was sinking, albeit slowly; several of the steps nearest the edges of the great fish were under the water.

"Why is it doing that?" Elashi asked.

Conan shrugged. He knew little of such things.

Tull said, "Perhaps other fishy predators were at the bottom during the night. Or perhaps our mount is becoming waterlogged."

"Can we do anything about it?"

"Find a good spot to start walking, I should think," Tull said. "Although we can probably get another day or two out of it before it goes under for good."

An hour later Conan shook his head. "I like this not," he said.

"What now?" Elashi asked.

"We have turned almost back in the same direction whence we came."

"I see no signs of that. How can you know this?"

Conan shrugged again. He had an innate sense of direction, had had it as long as he could remember. It was possible for him to get lost, of course, but some inner guide usually oriented him quickly, no matter what the surroundings.

"Well, it does not really matter, does it? Anyone following us will have to take the same waterway. So it loops and twists a bit, so much the better-we shall be harder to find and see for that."

Conan did not speak to this. Perhaps Elashi was right. He had no logical reason to feel trepidatious; still, some atavistic sense stirred within him, and he prepared himself for the worst.

Rey was surprised as he entered the breeding cave of the Bloodbats: the place was virtually empty.

Well, of living things, in any event. The floor showed signs of a fairly active stour: the dessicated bodies of several Blind Whites and men lay strewn carelessly about, as well as a number of slain bats. Hmm. It seemed that his prey had pa.s.sed this way. But... where were the bats who normally clung to the walls and ceilings? There were only a few of them dead upon the floor, and the wizard could not imagine the remainder abandoning their cave over such trifles. A little blood never bothered the bats.

Rey laughed, amused by his own joke. Blood did not bother the bats. That was a good jest! He would have spoken it aloud, but he realized that his escort of cyclopes would likely see little humor in it. Stupid creatures, one and all, and fit only for thralls. Yes, well, that was all fine and good, but he had business to which he must attend. The bats had obviously gotten off somewhere to do something, and he would likely discover that purpose eventually.

Besides, that was not the primary reason for his trip by any means. No, and the presence in the cave of dead men other than those he sought did not seem a benevolent augury. One had to wonder who they were and how they had gotten here, and in what way were they connected to the ones Rey sought. That a connection existed he doubted not at all. He had not lived as long as he had by trusting coincidence any farther than he could pitch a cyclops one handedly.

Rey waved, and the pair of cyclopian chair-carriers bent and lifted his sedan from the ground. Well, he would get to the root of it soon enough.

In that grating-over-rock voice her thralls had, the advance worm returned to tell Chuntha of the carnage in the bats' breeding cave. That news did not bother the witch a whit, but the worm also bespoke a more unpleasant fact: the wizard had moved through the cave, along with a number of one-eyes carrying large amounts of cargo.

Chuntha shifted uneasily on the worm she rode. This boded ill. Something was definitely out of order in the caves if that sluglike wizard would bother to stir his indolent self and go venturing about. That he wanted to steal her barbarian she knew; the lengths to which he would go to thwart her surprised her somewhat.

The witch's resolve hardened. So be it. If the wizard wanted a fight, fine. She would give it to him. She was no fragile wisp to be blown away by his hot air. She would see about this!

Her mount responded to the pressure of Chuntha's knees and began his segmented glide once again.

The other worms initiated their own crawls, and the party moved on.

Perhaps two-score bats arrived at the Harskeel's location, dragging by lines behind them what appeared to be several large wooden doors.

The bat named Red flitted down to stand before the Harskeel. "Your boat," he said.

The Harskeel observed the ancient planking. "You call these things a boat?"

The bat shrugged. "You said it need merely float."

"It must also hold my weight and that of my men."

"If it does not, no matter. We shall fly above and support the difference as we tow the thing."

The Harskeel considered that. In point of fact, it had little choice, were it to continue its pursuit of Conan and his companions. With the bats towing the "boat," surely they would make good speed. "Very well,"

the Harskeel said. "Let us a.s.semble it and make ready to depart."

Red smiled, showing his needle-pointed teeth. "We would fly much faster were we not so hungry." The Harskeel grinned. So, the creatures were not quite as trusting as he had at first thought. Ah, well.

No matter. "Have you a container?"

"As it happens, there is a depression in the rock, just over there." Red pointed with a wing tip. "The cleft at the bottom of the declivity should hold about a barrel's worth of liquid, if I am any judge of such things."

"When it comes to liquid, I bow to your expertise," the Harskeel said. "Come, then, and allow me to offer you some nourishment."

The bats flocked around the Harskeel as it filled a hole in the rock with blood. After they had finished drinking, all of the bats agreed that it was quite the best-quality meal they had ever had. Promises from the witch and wizard meant nothing compared to this, they said. They were the Harske'el's friends forever!

"Tell me more about this witch and wizard," the Harskeel said.

Gladly, the bats replied. Anything for such a fine friend. Anything at all.

Eleven.

The pa.s.sage in which the three steered the slowly sinking fish narrowed, although Conan could see that it widened considerably up ahead. A few moments later, they attained the wider pa.s.sage. Almost immediately Conan knew that something was wrong. He glanced around and saw the cause of his worry.

Behind them was the mouth of the narrow pa.s.s through which they had just emerged. Next to it was a similar opening. Conan stopped his paddling.

"What is it?" Tull asked.

"Observe," Conan said, pointing with the paddle.

Tull and Elashi turned to look behind them.

"Uh~oh," Tull said.

"What is the matter?" Elashi asked. "I see nothing but two large holes in a wall. Is there some pursuit?"

Conan said, "Do you not recognize this place? You were set on entering one over the other not so long ago."

Elashi shook her head. "Whatare you babbling about?"

The big Cimmerian nodded at the twin pa.s.sages behind them. "We have made a loop," he said.

"Yesterday we entered that pa.s.sage on the left. Now we have returned to the same spot. If there is any pursuit, likely it will come from the direction in which we now travel."

"Oh!" Elashi said. "Oh, dread."

Dread indeed, Conan thought. It seemed that there would be no way out of the underground via this waterway. "What are we to do now?" Elashi asked.

"I think it best we beach this stinking fish corpse and resume our travels on foot," Conan answered. "As I recall, there were a series of small openings on the wall only an hour or so ahead."

Tull said, "Aye, right, lad. Our boat should get us that far."

"The faster, the better," Conan said.

Both men dug their makeshift paddles into the water deeply. The sodden fish moved slowly, but move it did.