To Rescue Tanelorn (37 page)

“Know you what it says, Elric?” Duke Avan murmured, joining them.

“Aye—but it’s cryptic enough. It says: ‘If thou hast come to slay me, then thou art welcome. If thou hast come without the means to awaken the Jade Man, then begone…’”

“Is it addressed to us, I wonder,” Avan mused, “or has it been there for a long while?”

Elric shrugged. “It could have been inscribed at any time during the past ten thousand years…”

Moonglum walked up to the wall and reached out to touch it. “I would say it was fairly recent,” he said. “The paint is still wet.”

Elric frowned. “Then there are inhabitants here still. Why do they not reveal themselves?”

“Could those reptiles out there be the denizens of R’lin K’ren A’a?” Avan said. “There is nothing in the legends that says they were humans who fled this place…”

Elric’s face clouded and he was about to make an angry reply when Moonglum interrupted.

“Perhaps there is just one inhabitant. Is that what you are thinking, Elric? The Creature Doomed to Live? Those sentiments could be his…”

Elric put his hands to his face and made no reply.

“Come,” Avan said. “We’ve no time to debate on legends.” He strode across the floor and entered another doorway, beginning to descend steps. As he reached the bottom they heard him gasp.

The others joined him and saw that he stood on the threshold of another hall. But this one was ankle-deep in fragments of stuff that had been thin leaves of a metallic material which had the flexibility of parchment. Around the walls were thousands of small holes, rank upon rank, each with a character painted over it.

“What is it?” Moonglum asked.

Elric stooped and picked up one of the fragments. This had half a Melnibonéan character engraved on it. There had even been an attempt to obliterate this.

“It was a library,” he said softly. “The library of my ancestors. Someone has tried to destroy it. These scrolls must have been virtually indestructible, yet a great deal of effort has gone into making them indecipherable.” He kicked at the fragments. “Plainly our friend—or friends—is a consistent hater of learning.”

“Plainly,” Avan said bitterly. “Oh, the
value
of those scrolls to the scholar! All destroyed!”

Elric shrugged. “To limbo with the scholar—their value to me was quite considerable!”

Moonglum put a hand on his friend’s arm and Elric shrugged it off. “I had hoped…”

Moonglum cocked his head. “Those reptiles have followed us into the building, by the sound of it.”

They heard the distant sound of strange footsteps in the passages behind them.

The little band moved as silently as it could through the ruined scrolls and crossed the hall until they entered another corridor which led sharply upward.

Then, suddenly, daylight was visible.

Elric peered ahead. “The corridor has collapsed ahead of us and is blocked, by the look of it. The roof has caved in and we may be able to escape through the hole.”

They clambered upward over the fallen stones, glancing warily behind them for signs of their pursuers.

At last they emerged in the central square of the city. On the far sides of this square were placed the feet of the great statue, which now towered high above their heads.

Directly before them were two peculiar constructions which, unlike the rest of the buildings, were completely whole. They were domed and faceted and were made of some glasslike substance which diffracted the rays of the sun.

From below they heard the reptile men advancing down the corridor.

“We’ll seek shelter in the nearest of those domes,” Elric said. He broke into a trot, leading the way.

The others followed him through the irregularly shaped opening at the base of the dome.

Once inside, however, they hesitated, shielding their eyes and blinking heavily as they tried to discern their way.

“It’s like a maze of mirrors!” Moonglum gasped. “By the gods, I’ve never seen a better. Was that its function, I wonder.”

Corridors seemed to go off in all directions—yet they might be nothing more than reflections of the passage they were in. Cautiously Elric began to continue further into the maze, the five others following him.

“This smells of sorcery to me,” Moonglum muttered as they advanced. “Have we been forced into a trap? I wonder.”

Elric drew his sword. It murmured softly—almost querulously.

Everything shifted suddenly and the shapes of his companions grew dim.

“Moonglum! Duke Avan!”

He heard voices murmuring, but they were not the voices of his friends.

“Moonglum!”

But then the little man faded away altogether and Elric was alone.

He turned and a wall of red brilliance struck his eyes and blinded him.

He called out and his voice was turned into a dismal wail which mocked him.

He tried to move, but he could not tell whether he remained in the same spot or walked a dozen miles.

Now there was someone standing a few yards away, seemingly obscured by a screen of multicoloured transparent gems. He stepped forward and made to dash away the screen, but it vanished and he stopped suddenly.

He looked on a face of infinite sorrow.

And the face was his own face, save that the man’s colouring was normal and his hair was black.

“What are you?” Elric said thickly.

“I have had many names. One is Erekosë. I have been many men. Perhaps I am all men.”

“But you are like me!”

“I am you.”

“No!”

The phantom’s eyes held tears as it stared in pity at Elric.

“Do not weep for me!” Elric roared. “I need no sympathy from you!”

“Perhaps I weep for myself, for I know our fate.”

“And what is that?”

“You would not understand.”

“Tell me.”

“Ask your gods.”

Elric raised his sword. Fiercely he said, “No—I’ll have my answer from you!”

And the phantom faded away.

Elric shivered. Now the corridor was populated by a thousand such phantoms. Each murmured a different name. Each wore different clothes. But each had his face, if not his colouring.

“Begone!” he screamed. “Oh, gods, what is this place?”

And at his command they disappeared.

“Elric?”

The albino whirled, sword ready. But it was Duke Avan Astran of Old Hrolmar. He touched his own face with trembling fingers, but said levelly, “I must tell you that I believe I am losing my sanity, Prince Elric…”

“What have you seen?”

“Many things. I cannot describe them.”

“Where are Moonglum and the others?”

“Doubtless each went his separate way, as we did.”

Elric raised Stormbringer and brought the blade crashing against a crystal wall. The Black Sword moaned, but the wall merely changed its position.

But through the gap now Elric saw ordinary daylight. “Come, Duke Avan—there is escape!”

Avan, dazed, followed him and they stepped out of the crystal and found themselves in the central square of R’lin K’ren A’a.

But there were noises. Carts and chariots moved about the square. Stalls were erected on one side. People moved peacefully about. And the Jade Man did not dominate the sky above the city. Here, there was no Jade Man at all.

Elric looked at the faces. They were the eldritch features of the folk of Melniboné. Yet these had a different cast to them which he could not at first define. Then he recognized what they had. It was tranquility. He reached out his hand to touch one of the people.

“Tell me, friend, what year…?”

But the man did not hear him. He walked by.

Elric tried to stop several of the passers-by, but not one could see or hear him.

“How did they lose this peace?” Duke Avan asked wonderingly. “How did they become like you, Prince Elric?”

Elric almost snarled as he turned sharply to face the Vilmirian. “Be silent!”

Duke Avan shrugged. “Perhaps this is merely an illusion.”

“Perhaps,” Elric said sadly. “But I am sure this is how they lived—until the coming of the High Ones.”

“You blame the gods, then?”

“I blame the knowledge that the gods brought.”

Duke Avan nodded gravely. “I understand.”

He turned back towards the great crystal and then stood listening. “Do you hear that voice, Prince Elric? What is it saying?”

Elric heard the voice. It seemed to be coming from the crystal. It was speaking the old tongue of Melniboné, but with a strange accent. “This way,” it said. “This way.”

Elric paused. “I have no liking to return there.”

Avan said, “What choice have we?”

They stepped together through the entrance.

Again they were in the maze that could be one corridor or many and the voice was clearer. “Take two paces to your right,” it instructed.

Avan glanced at Elric. “What was that?”

Elric told him.

“Shall we obey?” Avan asked.

“Aye.” There was resignation in the albino’s voice.

They took two paces to their right.

“Now four to your left,” said the voice.

They took four paces to their left.

“Now one forward.”

They emerged into the ruined square of R’lin K’ren A’a.

Moonglum and one Vilmirian crewman stood there.

“Where are the others?” Avan demanded.

“Ask him,” Moonglum said wearily, gesturing with the sword in his right hand.

They stared at the man who was either an albino or a leper. He was completely naked and he bore a distinct likeness to Elric. At first Elric thought this was another phantom, but then he saw that there were also several differences in their faces. There was something sticking from the man’s side, just above the third rib. With a shock, Elric recognized it as the broken shaft of a Vilmirian arrow.

The naked man nodded. “Aye—the arrow found its mark. But it could not slay me, for I am J’osui C’reln Reyr…”

“You believe yourself to be the Creature Doomed to Live,” Elric murmured.

“I am he.” The man gave a bitter smile. “Do you think I try to deceive you?”

Elric glanced at the arrow shaft and then shook his head.

“You are ten thousand years old?” Avan stared at him.

“What does he say?” asked J’osui C’reln Reyr of Elric. Elric translated.

“Is that all it has been?” The man sighed. Then he looked intently at Elric. “You are of my race?”

“It seems so.”

“Of what family?”

“Of the royal line.”

“Then you have come at last. I, too, am of that line.”

“I believe you.”

“I notice that the Olab seek you.”

“The Olab?”

“Those primitives with the clubs.”

“Aye. We encountered them on our journey upriver.”

“I will lead you to safety. Come.”

Elric allowed J’osui C’reln Reyr to take them across the square to where part of a tottering wall still stood. The man then lifted a flagstone and showed them steps leading down into darkness. They followed him, descending cautiously as he caused the flagstone to lower itself above their heads. And then they found themselves in a room lit by crude oil lamps. Save for a bed of dried grasses the room was empty.

“You live sparely,” Elric said.

“I have need for nothing else. My head is sufficiently furnished…”

“Where do the Olab come from?” Elric asked.

“They are but recently arrived in these parts. Scarcely a thousand years ago—or perhaps half that time—they came from further upriver after some quarrel with another tribe. They do not usually come to the island. You must have killed many of them for them to wish you such harm.”

“We killed many.”

J’osui C’reln Reyr gestured at the others who were staring at him in some discomfort. “And these? Primitives, also, eh? They are not of our folk.”

“There are few of our folk left.”

“What does he say?” Duke Avan asked.

“He says that those reptile warriors are called the Olab,” Elric told him.

“And was it these Olab who stole the Jade Man’s eyes?”

When Elric translated the question the Creature Doomed to Live was astonished. “Did you not know, then?”

“Know what?”

“Why, you have been
in
the Jade Man’s eyes! Those great crystals in which you wandered—that is what they are!”

When Elric offered this information to Duke Avan, the Vilmirian burst into laughter. He flung his head back and roared with mirth while the others looked gloomily on. The cloud that had fallen across his features of late suddenly cleared and he became again the man whom Elric had first met in Chalal.

Moonglum was the next to smile and even Elric acknowledged the irony of what had happened to them.

“Those crystals fell from his face like tears soon after the High Ones departed,” continued J’osui C’reln Reyr.

“So the High Ones did come here.”

“Aye—the Jade Man brought the message and all the folk departed, having made their bargain with him.”

“The Jade Man was not built by your people?”

“The Jade Man is Duke Arioch of Hell. He strode from the forest one day and stood in the square and told the people what was to come about—that our city lay at the centre of some particular configuration and that it was only there that the Lords of the Higher Worlds could meet.”