"Hah!" snorted the Tigerman. "I see time was of the essence." He winked at Ganelon's bare hide. The silver-haired giant flushed.

"No tune to look for my harness," he grunted unhappily. "Quang stuck his nose in the door and ran off squeaking to sound the alarm. So I escaped like this!"

"How do we get past the metal men?" huffed Grrff a few moments later. "We turn them off," said Ganelon. "Phadia told me how."

Lin Carter The door loomed before them, a slab of crimson metal set flush with the stone wall. The Omega Triskelion was blazoned huge across the double leaves of the portal, black enamel on scarlet metal.

Before the door, metal men were ranked. Motionless as so many empty suits of armor they stood, their arms thrust out before them, terminating in hooks, claws, scythes, power drills, hammers and axes. As the three escapees came pelting down the stair towards them, suddenly they became animate, clanking to attack position. The drill-arms started up with a whirring sound.

"If you know how to do it, you'd better do it now," rumbled Grrff, eyeing the Automatons warily.

Ganelon stepped forward until the hook-arm of the foremost Automaton almost touched his naked chest.

"Turn yourselves off!" he roared.

The metal men collapsed on all sides, leg-joints clattering, like a cast of wooden puppets whose strings are simultaneously cut. s.n.a.t.c.hing up Phadia in his arms, Ganelon wove through the mound of lifeless metal, grasped the handle of the door and jerked. It came open with a groan of rusty metal, revealing a yawning blackness.

"Does anybody know where we're going?" asked Grrff, as they lingered for a moment at the mouth of the Cavern.

"Does anybody care?" grunted Ganelon, as he stepped across the threshold- THE CAVERN OF.

A THOUSAND.

PERILS.

The moment they stepped across the threshold, the doorway dwindled and vanished far behind them. Huddled against Ganelon's breast, the boy gasped and cowered.

They had taken one step only. Since the hyperspatial tube collapsed s.p.a.ce in upon itself, that one step might have been the equivalent of a hundred miles, or a thousand. Or a million! It was enormously risky: they had no idea of where they were, or of where the next step might take them. To the Isles of Quadquoph, or the far side of the Moon, or Beta Draconis! Presumably, when powerful and cunning sorcerers like the Illusionist or Zelmarine used the labyrinth, they had some knowledge of how to get to where they wanted to be.

Ganelon stood motionless, straining every nerve. Beneath his bare soles he felt gritty cavern floor, naked stone, wet and sandy. His nostrils, however, reported the heady odor of jungle orchids and decaying leaves, while the wind that blew upon his nakedness was sharp dry and chill as Arctic winds. He could see nothing at all: impenetrable blackness veiled his sight.

"I'm af-f-fraid!" the boy whimpered, burying his face in against Ganelon's breast.

"Hush!" said the giant fondly. "Don't you think we all are? Grrff!"

114 Lin Carter "Right beside you, big man," said that worthy, "and beginning to wish he had stayed behind to take his chances with the Red Magic legionnaires."

"We'd better go carefully, from here on in," counseled the giant. "Half a step difference between us could separate us by thousands of miles. Hold onto me and take a step when I do." The big furry paw fastened itself to his upper arm. "Together now! One-big- step-"

Seawater, bluely-green, closed around them. Instinctively, all three hyperspatial travelers held their breaths. Pale sand squelched underfoot, strewn with glimmering moony pearls and human skulls, mossy with sea-growths. In the distance the elfin-slim coral towers of a marine city leaned against the tides, flashing with huge gems. Mounted on enormous, goggle-eyed sea-horses, a troop of sea-folk sped towards them, waving tridents angrily. They were male and female, naked with green hair like seaweed floating out behind them; minute, pearly scales glittered with highlights on smooth thigh, breast, shoulders.

They took another big step- Jagged peaks zoomed above them, standing against wind-torn cloud-wracks like tall chimneys. Each was crowned with a huge nest. Scrawny female figures with flying hair and beaked faces shrieked and gobbled down at them, waving long skinny arms which terminated in hooked claws. A loud halloo came down the wind: gaunt man-birds, black wings spread, came soaring down, angry eyes flashing, beaks snapping. They staggered to keep their footing in the winds which streamed about them, drying the sea-bottom .wetness hi moments. Grrff tried to say something but the wind s.n.a.t.c.hed his words away.

They took another wide step- Forest greenery closed in about them, leaves dark green and silvery where floods of moonlight poured 115.

through ragged branches. Gnarled, ancient trees grew all about; green aisles ran in all directions, thick with red and yellow mushrooms. Small, stunted figures ran squeaking to hide behind knotted roots and to peer out at the strangers. The gnomes had huge noses, tiny squinting eyes, and thick, bedraggled beards like moss. Some puffed on huge meerschaum pipes, others clutched quaint musical instruments they had been tootling on mere moments before. They squeaked and peered, waving tiny fists in a threatening manner. Suddenly hooves drummed through the forest still: a huge manlike figure, but faceless, black as tarnished silver, crowned with slender needles of ice, rode through the underbrush to rein before them. He was mounted upon a milk-white Unicorn whose arched, n.o.ble neck, blazing ruby eyes and long, spiral-fluted horn of purest gold flashed before them like something from a fantastic dream. The black-silver man with no face gestured towards them with a long sceptre of crystal or ice. They took another step- Flames roared up, gold and crimson. Hot, scorching winds smote them, stinking of sulphur and brimstone. Beneath their feet, stone glowed hotly, threaded with sluggish, crawling rivulets of bubbling lava. Huge, lumpish figures rose amid the seething flames, peering out at them with astonishment, heavy jaws hanging wide, blunt tusks gleaming. The fire-ogres had armored skins like crocodiles, horns grew at brow and temple, elbow, knee and shoulder. Their heavy, splay-feet were those of monstrous lizards. One ogre burst bellowing through the curtain of flames, whirling a whistling club around his head broken from a stalagmite. He howled, gushing steam from his mouth, and loped towards them.

They took another step- Parched and dry, the desert sands stretched from horizon to horizon under seven burning suns of metallic indigo, canary yellow, olive green, grayish purple, and three other colors for which the dazed, bewildered 116 Lin Carter travellers had no names. Stone colossi marched across the desert, hundred-foot-high figures of manlike marble, but headless, who walked with a grating, gritty sound of stone rubbing against stone. From whence they came and to what unthinkable destination the stone monsters were bound was equally unknown. With each step the ponderous giants took, the desert drummed and sand jumped. A black shadow, edged with penumbra of seven colors, fell over them. They stared up wildly to see a vast stone foot coming down- and took another step themselves.

They stood on ice, slick as gla.s.s. Above the immense glacier, northern lights flickered, forming an undulating, ghostly luminous banner. Frost sprinkled them from head to foot: their three breaths steamed before them like white plumes. A distant yelping echoed across the plain of ice. In a moment, a slithering horde of white reptiles with vicious red eyes and long alligator tails came swarming into view around icy pinnacles of glimmering green. The ice-dwelling reptiles were yer-xels; Ganelon had fought them before on Mount Droom so he knew that, wherever they were, at least they were back to Gondwane. Hissing like so many tea-kettles, the white lizards cames squirming towards them, claws skittering on the ice.

They took another step- Dim green gloom closed about them now; a stone roof soared far above, supported by pillars that looked like stalagmites, and probably were. The cavern was un-thinkably immense, cool and dim and echoing. But, at least, it seemed uninhabited. Still holding Phadia cuddled against his breast, Ganelon staggered. The sudden transitions from hot to cold, wet to dry, left him numb and feeling somehow pummeled.

They peered about them, cautiously. Nearby a great mound of boulders like a rocky hill loomed up, dim and glittering with lots of sharp rocky ridges. Beyond arched the cavern wall, gleaming with eerie phos- 117 ph.o.r.escence. Underfoot, gems crunched. At first the three mistook them for pebbles, but then Grrff stopped, bent down, scooped up a pawful and let them trickle through his digits. A glinting cataract of chatoyants, beryls, garnets, amethysts and alexandrites.

"A duke's ransom!" he hurled, eyes following the dazzling stream. Ganelon wearily set the boy down, cautioning him not to stray. Phadia knelt and gathered up a handful of coins. They were old and tarnished-coins of copper, silver, gold, electrum, platinum, and metals blue, green, black, for which he had no name. Some were round, others square or oval; some bore portraits either profile or full-face; the inscriptions were in languages he could not read. The floor of the cavern was completely covered with coins and gems, as far as the eye could reach. And it was an awfully large cavern.

Ganelon turned and looked behind him. Their last step had carried them through a stone archway whose keystone bore the Omega Triskelion symbol. They were out of the labyrinth and safe for a while, it seemed.

He sat down on a rounded boulder, smooth with lichens, to catch his breath.

"I guess we're safe here," he said moodily. Something had happened to him under the Mind Probe, but the whirl of events had moved so swiftly that he had not yet had leisure time to evaluate it."Hmph! But where is here?" gruffed the Tigerman, looking about him skeptically.Stretched out on his tummy, kicking his heels in the air, small chin resting on folded hands, Phadia peered drowsily into the glitter of heaped gems. Their lights sent a flicker of enchantment across his pretty, girlish face."Maybe this is dragon treasure," he suggested dreamily, "and we're in a dragon's cave!'*Grrff snorted, twitching his whiskers."Nonsense, cub! Fairy-tale-stuff! There are no dragons left in Gondwane ..."118 Lin CarterThis isn't Gondwane, said a huge voice, making them all jump. It was a deep, grumbly voice with a lot of hissing in it: sort of the kind of voice thunder might make if it tried to hiss at the same time. None of them had ever heard a voice remotely like it before, and the alarming thing was they could not see whom it was that had spoken.

Then the big, dim, sharply-ridged hill in front of them opened one huge eye, like a bright green full moon and winked at them!

This is a Dragon's cave, said the voice again. And this time they saw that it did come from the hill. Only it wasn't a hill, it was- And I'm the dragon, said the Dragon.

18. THE OLDEST ONE.

Phadia jumped to his feet and tried to stuff the fingers of both hands into his mouth, eyes wide and unbelieving. Ganelon hefted the bent copper bar wherewith he had fought his way from Varesco's laboratory to the prison-yard, and wished for his Silver Sword. And, as for GrrfiE, the burly Tigerman growled deep in his chest, hackles rising on his nape, razory black claws bared, eyes glowing sulphurously through the dim greenish gloom.

The craggy hill in front of them opened a second great moon-eye with which to observe them interestedly. The monster was big as a house, big as a blockfull of houses, but it did not seem to be interested in dinner; at least, not at the moment. Some gigantic prehistoric monster, some huge lizard, some sentient saurian strayed here from Earth's forgotten prime? Whatever it was, they had little hopes of fighting it.

Manlings, here in my lair? it murmured in that hissy, thunderthroated voice. How -wondrous strange! Has been a thousand ages, aye, and more, since last Dzi-mdazoul had manlings as his guests ... put up thy copper club, Silverhair! Dzimdazoul hath ever been that friendly with thy kind, to win him place within thy legendry.

They began to relax, joint by joint, nerve by nerve. Something behind or underneath the words themselves stole fright from them, bit by bit. They began to stare at the great Dragon, open-mouthed with amazed and wide-eyed wonderment, as the enormous friendly crea 120 Lin Carter ture regarded them with luminous, unwinking, philosophical and faintly humorous gaze.

They could see Dzimdazoul more clearly now, their eyes having adjusted to the dim green gloom. He had a broad head with prominent brow-ridges that curved above the great moon-like eyes, and a long, wrinkled, scaly snout with large nostrils from which exhaled a whiff of sulphurous steam as he breathed. When he grinned, as he did in a manner meant to be friendly, he exposed fangs longer than a man's arms. The size of him, the scaly length, was preposterous-mythical!

The dragonish breed had long-since vanished from Gondwane by their age, lingering only in legend and in a few remnants of the race, dwarfed and mute, which lurked in crypts and caverns much like this one. But this was one of the Old Dragons, the great dragons of the Prime, and huger than any living thing had any right to be.

Curiously enough, it was little Phadia who was the first to lose his fear of Dzimdazoul. Smiling with shy wonder, he crept forward and seated himself timidly on one of the Dragon's paws which were stretched out before him. The Dragon regarded the boy with friendly inquisitiveness, c.o.c.king his great head first on one side, then the other, like some enormous dog. A man-child, is it? he hissed affably. "Yes, sir," said the boy in a very small voice. The Dragon chuckled-an unnerving sound like several avalanches rumbling down a very tall mountain.

Hath more courage, the lad, than either of yon great burly louts, Dzimdazoul chuckled. Or be it common-sense? Aye, you've nought to fear from old Dzimdazoul, little men! I was a friend to your kind when your first ancestors came furtively out of the forests; clad in hair, were ye then, not unlike yonder cat-man there, with wee small tails, and ye chattered like the monkeys ye had been, not long before.

Ganelon blinked. His master had taught him about the theory of evolution, so he had some notion of the age of the Earth and of the human race. What the 121.

great reptile had said in its lazy, hissing rumble was purely incredible.

"Are you . . . can you be ... that old, great one?" he asked dazedly. The Dragon grinned, wrinkling his leathery old snout. Then his green moon-eyes grew dreamy, as if he looked back down the long interminable ages since Creation.

/ am the First Dragon, he said sleepily; 7 am the Old One, the oldest of the Old Things . . . the Demiurge made me first, after the Earth itself; 'twas Deos-Ptah, or somesuch like that, was his name . . . laldabaoth came later, then all the other G.o.ds who have ruled Old Earth from my time to thine. Do Zul and Rashemba rule thy world still, or be it young Galendil now? . . . / have slept the last million years away, here in mine cozy Deep, and be somewhat out of touch with Time! Ah, well, no matter ...

Can I in truth be as old as that, you ask, Silverhair? ... 7 am the oldest, the most ancient, of all living things. I remember the wars of Troy and the drowning of Atlantis. I watched the little brown men as they built the pyramids ... 7 knew Aristotle and Charlemagne, and once I saw Alexander from a distance, riding down the long, long road to India. Already was I past the middle of my youth when the first nomad hunters strayed into the uncharted wilderness that was prehistoric Europe; and when 1 was very, very young, 1 saw Father Adam driven out of Paradise by a stern and beautiful angel with a sword of flame! Oh, 1 am very old; I am older than the Moon; I am nearly as old as Old Earth itself . . . and I am older by far than the race of man. I have forgotten more things than man has ever learned, because I am older than man. I remember things even the mountains have forgot.

Very little of what the Old Dragon said meant anything to any of them, for the realms and kings of Earth's youth had long since faded from man's memory, before ever Gondwane was formed out of the coming-together of the drifting continents. But Ganelon under 122 Lin Carter stood a little of it, just enough to feel awe. He spoke up and asked the Dragon just how old he was.

The great eyes twinkled at him humorously.

/ really do not know! I have forgotten long ago; but very much older than you would think reasonable. I remember Julius Caesar and Hannibal, and I once saw Semiramis riding in a procession full of dancing girls and feather-fans. I can remember what Salisbury Plain looked like before Stonehenge. I watched the fall of Babylon and the burning of Persepolis, and I once discussed the circ.u.mference of the world with Ptolemy. I remember the first ship and the first city. I think 1 can remember the discovery of fire, but I'm not quite certain whether it was a caveman named *Og who discovered it, or another named Ak; Og had blue eyes and yellow hair, as I recall; he was probably a Cro-Magnon......

The voice of the Old Dragon lulled them into a dreamy daze; curled up on Dzimdazoul's paw, Phadia was fast asleep, his thumb tucked into his mouth, worn out from the excitements of the day. Ganelon and Grrff sat on the cavern floor, listening as the Old Dragon talked of things long ago and far away, another world, another age. Grrff understood little of what the great creature said, but listened anyway, enthralled.^ / remember before the poles changed; I remember Ultima Thule. And I knew Hercules, or rather, one of the forty wandering heroes whose various exploits got mixed up in the story of Hercules. I saw the Crusades; 1 knew Roland, yes, and Oliver; I watched the Ice Age come and go......./ saw the first dog, while the Northern Lights glimmered overhead and the ice lay deep across Europe.

I used to spend my winters in the palace of Prester John. I saw the Huns come riding out of Asia, and the Mongols, and the Turks; the Tartars, too. I remember the death of the last mastodon and of the last wooly mammoth.

And I remember Siegfried.

123.

"How is it, Grandfather, that you have lived so long?" asked Ganelon sleepily.

/ was the first living thing which the Demiurge made, after the creation of the world itself-Theos-Pater, was that his name?-7 think he loved me for that I was his first; at any rate, he let me live longer than any other thing. In the Beginning there were only Behemoth and Leviathan and I. Leviathan lived in the sea; Behemoth roamed the great plains; and I resided in the caverns underneath the world....... they died young, my mighty brothers. There was not enough in the world for them to eat, so Dyaus-Ptah, or -whatever his name was, took their lives away from them. But I was his first living creature, and he could not bear to take my life back; so he arranged it that I fed only on gems and precious minerals, whereof the world hath a great plenty......

then, I think, he just forgot about me, and laldabaoth never knew I was even there . . . later on, of course, I found my way Here.

"Where is 'here'?" murmured Silvermane, sleepily. "This isn't Gondwane, is it?" The Old Dragon shook his heavy head ponderously.

This is the Halfworld: some call it Faerie. 'Tis a midregion outside of the world, yet part of it in a certain sense. And connected with many other worlds as well. Here death cannot ever come, because we are outside of Time and beyond the reach of Change. Here Arthur sleeps, and Charlemagne and Barbarossa, and Ogier; and here Merlin dreams the world away, lonely in Brociliande- The deep, hissing, thunderous voice slowed to a halt. The Old Dragon peered down at them with huge, curious, wise eyes; they were asleep, all three. The Tigerman slept on his back, his paws lifted before his furry chest. He snored, a kind of purring sound.

Sleep, now, little ones ... 7 had forgotten how easily you manlings weary . . . sleep! No harm can come to you here, and I will watch over your rest, said the Old Dragon.

ON THE PURPLE.

Lin Carter -5bGondwane 025d -The Enchantress of World's End-9.jpg Aboard the Bazonga the Illusionist and his party were also fast asleep, worn out from the long night's travels and adventures. Not daring to disturb the slumbering humans, the Bird flew on into the north, although by now the poor befuddled creature was beginning to suspect that she was doing something wrong.

Poy was behind them, and Cham. The Sea of Gla.s.s glimmered beneath her keel, that vast expanse of sand which once had been a desert or the bottom of a vanished sea, before an exploding contraterrene meteorite had fused it to one sparkling flatness of crystal. The Bird circled low, peering down curiously, admiring her reflection in it.

The Sun came up; still the same Sun of our own day, but older now, redder and cooler, a dimming star-candle, guttering towards extinction. A billion years, more or less, and Old Earth's last and final dawn would break . . .

It was the sunlight in his eyes that roused the old magician from his sleep. He woke, and stretched, and scratched himself and spat over the side. He looked around him, rheumy-eyed, wishing he were back in his own soft bed at Nerelon, with Fryx to bring him his morning cocoa- Beneath them an illimitable plain of thick purple gra.s.ses rolled to the horizon.

He jumped, cursed in three extinct languages and one 125.

ultra-terrestrial one, and clutching the edge of the c.o.c.kpit, stared down with horror.

The Bird winked at him in her rear-vision mirror.

" 'Awake! for morning in the-' "

"You mechanistic imbecile! You moronic vehicle, you-! You sub-cretinous contraption-what, have, you, DONE?" he fumed, waving a futile gloved fist.

She blinked owlishly, and somehow, into her immobile cast-bronze countenance there stole a

woebegone expression."I knew it! I just knew it! If anything goes wrong beautiful Bazonga ... the only Bazonga in all the wide world, but do they care? Not a sniff, not a pinch, not a whisper!-" she wailed hi a hollow voice.

Xarda jerked awake and stared about, blank-eyed, one small fist going for her second-best sword,

salvaged from then* luggage, back at the inn."Wha? Where? Have at thee, varlet' Caitiff rogue-* she broke off and stared at the magician, wide-eyed. "Where are the enemy?"

The magician c.o.c.ked a thumb in the direction of the Bazonga. The Bird a.s.sumed an injured expression (somehow, don't ask me how) and uttered a loud sniff."That's the en$my," the magician snarled. "At least,. she seems to be working for the wrong side! Look whereshe's taken us"-and he gestured below. Xarda lookedover the side at league upon league of long violet gra.s.s.

"Isn't this-?""The Purple Plain!" the Illusionist said, scathingly. "We're way north of Yombok, even. Scores of leagues from where we wanted to be! It isn't possible that Ganelon could have gotten this far on his own. I am convinced the poor boy was taken captive by the Dwarves, who turned him over to the tender mercies of the Red Enchantress. She's been trying to get her hands on him since last year, when she tried to buy him from the Hegemon of Zermish."

The Bird hung her head, snuffling to herself, a woebegone expression in her eyes.126 Lin Carter"-Blame everything on me," she whined. "Go on! - Do. I don't care; I just don't care . . ."The Illusionist, fuming, brought his tirade to a halt. Grumbling and grexing under Ms breath, he glared at the shamefaced Bazona.

"Stop whimpering," he grouched. "Can't be helped now. We'll just have to turn around and go back to . . . now what's the matter?" he demanded suspiciously, as the Bird looked even sorrier.

"Well, you see ... I wan't really watching while I flew ... it was dark and all ... night, you know! . . . and I'm . . . well ... uh ..." "What? You're what?"

"I'm not at all sure which way is 'back,'" she confessed in a very small, frightened voice.

Xarda and the Illusionist stared at each other blankly. Then they turned and looked south. Endless leagues of gra.s.s, the dim glitter of the Gla.s.s Sea, and the dull, lumpy ridges of anonymous mountains was all they could see.

"Well, the Land of Red Magic could be that way . . ." began Xarda, tentatively.

"Sure. Or that way, or even that way," grumbled the old magician wearily. "I knew I shouldn't have gone to sleep and left this mindless, scatter-brained creature to her own devices!"

"No use crying over spilt water over the dam," said Xarda, getting her clich6s somewhat mixed. "What's to be done about it, that's the question."

Prince Erigon, from the back seat, cleared his throat politely.

"I say, maybe we could ask for directions?" "From whom?" asked the Illusionist, gloomily. "Well, there's a city over there, east of us . . ." "There is? Where?" The Illusionist craned around to look. Sure enough, some two or three miles away, built right in the very midst of the interminable gra.s.sy plains, stood the towers and ramparts of a curiously futuristic metropolis, all made of bright metal that sparkled prettily in the morning sun.

127.

"I say, that's odd. The maps show no city anywhere around here. The Purple Plain forms a natural barrier between the many countries of Greater Zuavia and the upper borders of Northern YamaYamaLand; there's nothing on the Plains themselves, except for wandering herds of Indigons and an occasional Youk. At least, there's not supposed to'be . . ."

"Maybe that was so, the last time you were hi these parts, magister," said Xarda practically. "But there's certainly something there now."

"So there is," the old magician mused. "Well, I haven't been up north for ten thou-. . . for quite a few years, I mean. I suppose somebody could have built a city here, during the interim. Heaven knows a lot of people have been rendered homeless by the Ximchak Barbarians, further north . . . still, it does seem odd!"

"Well. Let's go over and take a look at it. From the air, I mean," said Xarda, getting bored from inaction. "We don't have to land if the people look unfriendly or dangerous. What do you say?"

The Illusionist scratched his chin with the tip of one forefinger, eddying the lavender vapors that perennially masked his features from view. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "Everytime we land in a strange city, seems like we get into trouble. Look at Chx. Horx, too, for that matter; of course that was before we met you, my dear, but still ..."

"If you hadn't landed in Horx, and if Ganelon hadn't gotten into trouble trying to help me, I'd be a slave of the Holy Horxites right now," she said, with a touch of reproof. "So forgive me if I can't quite regard your experiences in Horx as an unqualified disaster-" "Of course, my dear, I didn't mean-" "Are we going to float here all day, while you silly humans just talk?" squawked the Bazonga bird restively. Now that they were no longer angry at her foolish flying in the wrong direction, it had not taken the ebullient vehicle long to recover her usual good spirits.