"What would you have of me, old woman?"

This creature could surely not be one with the Power Women- "Right," the word struck into Mereth's aching head like the point of a spear. "Power sweeps in both ways. All things balance. What would you have of me-I ask it again. And I am not patient- Think what you would ask-sc.r.a.ping around on a slate wastes time. If we deal together, something must be done about that."

Mereth clasped her hands tightly together. She had walked daily with fear in the war days, but this was something else-she might be chained in some cell while a flood of filth rose about her. Only she must force herself to discover what monster had been brought into Lormt.

"Who are you?" She shaped the thought with difficulty-painfully.

"I am Vorsla, Starqua, Deden, Karn-" Smooth flow of thought paused. Mereth's eyes were on her own tightly clasped hands. She refused to meet those other gray ones.

The voice spoke again in her mind. "Ufora."

Involuntarily a short guttural sound escaped Mereth's throat.

"Yes, oh, yes! When you were little did your dam never strive to threaten you with that name? Ufora of

the darkest woods, she could make you one with a tree chosen by a logger, or with a jumper already

entangled with the Skinner, the Eater?"

Mereth forced herself upright in the chair. Could this creature read more thought than that intended for communication? Quickly she readied another question.

"What do I do here?" The woods demon continued, "Well, I emerged from the Long Sleep as you see

me-a small one easily abused by others, a throw-away of the war. It has taken me too long to become truly myself." The girl touched the crushed linen covering her breast. "Only now after the letting of blood do I fully remember. These dolts of upper dwellers believe they won the ancient war at last by closing the Gates to the worlds of another level. We remain, we, who were sleeping away the flooding of endless years. So, again we were free to fold time. There have been openings left for those unguessed, in which to build their nests anew. So will Ufora do!"

The slight body on the bed moved, pulled up to its knees and slewed around. It plucked at the thick, odorous bandages until it was free. Smooth skin, shown much more darkly against the bedclothes, covered a body in which bones were no longer visible.

Mereth fought desperately against the pain in her head, throbbing as if words were beating a drum

within her skull.

The seeming girl s.n.a.t.c.hed up the uppermost sheet and was winding it about herself. She tied two ends together and knotted them, patting the knot when finished.

"Now-" She had spoken only the one word aloud. Standing with her head tilted a little to one side, as if listening, she remained quiet for a moment or two. Then her face twisted into a mask of rage. "So-" she spoke at last. "They would-" She started toward the door but her bulky covering slowed her. Mereth made a determined effort. Her staff, wielded as a spear, thudded home on the other's ribs. The girl screamed, caught at the bed for support, then collapsed to the floor. At once the door flew open with such force it crashed against the wall. Mistress Bethelie gave one glance at Mereth and then centered her attention on the girl, who was snarling at the old woman and visibly working her fingers in a pattern between them.

Bethelie caught at the heavy bunch of keys swinging from her own girdle, snapped it loose and crashed the jangling ball against the girl's hands with good aim. Mereth sat back weakly in her chair. She was finding it very difficult to breathe and her head pain seemed to draw a veil, clouding her vision; however, she could still hear Mistress Bethelie's precise voice:

"Iron, cold iron, to you, evil s.l.u.t-iron!"

The ringing words followed Mereth into darkness.

Never, since her venture with the Magestone, had Mereth felt herself so removed from real and daily

life. There was no sense of transition from the small room, of rising from the chair and making her way through the halls and the great courtyard into the open. A will, which she did not claim as her own, possessed her. Nor did she see anyone on that misty journey. In the huge edifice of Lormt, she might have been totally alone.

Then, with no warning, the walls and restored towers vanished. Mereth was no longer alone, though those about her had a tenuous look. Before her now stretched the sharply sloping, rock-studded land where the skirmish with the villagers had been fought. The sod had been torn away and, not too far away, more of it was yielding to rakes not meant for a farm laborer's cultivation. They were larger than customary and the p.r.o.ngs wider, scratching up clods of earth with vicious points more like weapons than farming implements.

It was near to this activity that the major part of a large a.s.sembly was to be found. Mereth blinked once and again, trying to rid her eyes of the cloying mist. Lord Duratan stood there with Wessel and two other one-time Borderers whom she knew to be expert archers. A step or so beyond stood Lady Nalor holding a drawn sword whose weight was obviously burdening her.

And- That force, which had brought Mereth here, thrust her forward at a quicker pace. Fear like one of the sudden mountain ice showers, struck her full faced. A bundle, resting on the ground between Nalor and the yet undisturbed turf, stirred. She who claimed to be Ufora got to her feet. Her face was like a mask carved from greenish ice of the higher mountain slopes. She tried hard to raise her arms, but her wrists

were drawn tightly together. Though there was no strong light, the day being gray, yet flashes glittered.

The captive was in irons- Iron, cold iron- Nalor was chanting. Now and again Duratan tossed at Ufora a fistful of crushed herbs. Once, twice

Ufora tried again to raise her hands. The lips of her masklike face twisted. She might have been seeking

to utter words of some dark ritual of her own.

Then-the seeming girl lifted her head a fraction and the dark eyes in her oddly green face fastened on Mereth, meeting those of the elder woman-

Ufora was instantly before her, fettered arms inching out to her. She could see them-impossibly reflected in the creature's eyes. If one pressed there-and there-the bonds would loosen. Mereth knew what the other strained to force her to do.

Three times her own hands came up and out toward the iron-encircled wrists. Three times her own will prevailed and they fell again, but she grew weaker, her head filled with such pain as she was sure would overcome her.

There was no hesitation in Nalor's chant. Her words held no meaning for Mereth. Only there were others!

"Anchor's up, ye sons of Gry- To the sails-let us fly!"

A man's voice, deep from the throat, armed with courage, about to sail on a final voyage.

Deep in her resonated the words she could not voice- "Wind and sail Cannot fail Men with the Light.

Not even-"

The song she could not voice aloud was fading within her. Rolf, he-. She shut away that memory

fiercely. But-but-he had freed her! The staff, her ever-ready companion, lifted. She could no longer sense those dark eyes holding her in thrall. They were light-oddly flat.

Nalor's words were lifting upward in a single, final trumpet-voiced phrase.

The strange girl retreated, still facing Mereth and Nalor. Her foot caught as a noose of roots suddenly snaked out. She screamed, stooping to batter thin green stems ending in yellow flowers with petals that had the shape of sword blades.

Before the watchers could move the land did so. A great crevice gaped and from it arose a thin netting of fine roots to close ominously about the girl. Again the ground shook, preparing to close its doom-crack.

Nalor moved; into that heaving growth she tossed a ball, only to s.n.a.t.c.h a second one-then a third, which Duratan held out to her. Close, the earth did at last! Mereth shuddered as shrill screams slowly faded away-death cries of that which should never have lived.

Thus pa.s.sed the Latter Battle of Lormt, fought and won, and though the sages housed there sought often

to find record of its like in the chronicles they prized, they did so in vain. However, Mereth related the tale to Maid Mouse of the Learned Ones and what she heard in reply, she never told, save that talk by thought became a gift to which she fiercely clung, so dearly was it won.

Mything in Dreamland

A Myth Adventures in Dreamland Story Robert Asprin and Jody Lynn Nye The dark green roof of the forest stretched out endlessly in every direction. To most, it would look like an idylic paradise. To me, it was a major problem.

I gazed out over the ma.s.sed pine trees, wondering what kind of wilderness we'd gotten stuck in. A few

bare crests, like the one I was sitting on, protruded above the treeline, but they were miles away. None of it looked familiar, but no reason why it should. There were thousands of dimensions in existence, and I'd only been to a few.

At the very least, it was an embara.s.sment. Here I was, considered publicly to be a hotshot magician, the

great Skeeve, utterly lost because I'd tripped and fallen through a magic mirror.

I went through my belt pouch for the D-hopper. I was sure it was there somewhere. I wasn't alone, of course. Behind me, my partner and teacher, Aahz, paced up and down impatiently.

"I told you not to touch anything in Bezel's shop," the Pervect snarled. When a native of the dimension called Perv snarls, other species blanch. The expression shows off a mouth full of four-inch razor-honed fangs set in a scaly green face that even dragons consider terrifying. I was used to it, and besides, I was pretty much to blame for his bad mood.

"Who'd have thought anybody could fall through a looking gla.s.s?" I tried to defend myself, but my

partner wasn't listening.

"If you had paid attention to a single thing I've said over the last however many years it's been . . ." Aahz held up a scaly palm in my direction. "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Garkin at least should have warned you."

"I know," I said. "It's my fault."

"It's just basic common sense when it comes to magik. Don't eat anything that says 'Eat me.' Don't drink