Roger Zelazny - Wizard World 1 - Changeling

The grenade! Heave one down the well! Fall flat! Cover your head!

He did as he was told. The grenade was in his hand, then in the air. As he threw himself forward behind the pedestal, he caught a glimpse of an enormous, bright, feather-crowned head rising above the low wall, of huge unblinking eyes, dark as pits, turned in his direction, a green excrescence, like a blazing emerald, set in the brow above them. Then an explosion shook the building.

A large block fell from the ceiling at the corner to the left of the stair, followed by a fall of gravel and dirt, dust particles dancing in the light rays. The orange basket tumbled from its rest, the rod rolling from it. It struck the lower step of the small pyramid, bounced and came to rest beside Mouseglove's elbow.

You've got it! Take it and run!

He looked about, discovered it, seized it, scrambled to his feet.

Too late! he replied, the rod in his left hand, the blade in his right. It's not dead!

An explosive hissing drowned the final rattlings of the stonefall. The orange, red and pink-bonnetted head was swaying as if disoriented, but moving steadily in his direction, too rapidly for him to escape it.

Strike at the jewel between the eyes!

He darted backward, raising the blade, knowing he would have but one chance.

As the serpent struck, so did he.

They burst into the dawn, retching and gasping, ears ringing, pulses pounding. Pol leaned forward and looked down at beaches running back to a line of lush tropical growth.

Down, Moonbird! We can barely hang on!

Moonbird dropped lower, slowing.

On the beach?

Yes. I want to bathe, to eat, to walk.

"Pol, I can't--"

"I know. Neither can I. Just another minute."

Moonbird settled gently. They slid off and lay unmoving on the sand. After a time, Pol reached out and touched Nora's hair.

"You did well," he said.

"You hung right in there, too." She patted Moonbird. "Good show." Then, "Where are we?" she asked.

How much farther?

We will reach it before the sun stands in the high places.

Good.

"We'll be there by noon," he said to Nora.

After a time, they undressed and bathed in the ocean, then cleaned their garments while Moonbird hunted and ate things that squealed a lot back among the trees. Their own breakfast was more silent as they watched the sun-dappled waves and the fire-splashed clouds.

"I would like to sleep for an awfully long time," she finally said.

"We have been rather busy."

"When this is over, what are you going to do?"

"If I live," he said, "I would like to read the rest of the books in my father's library."

"And with that knowledge--what?"

"I look upon it as an end, not a means. I don't know what I'll do then. Oh, I want to rebuild Rondoval, of course, whether I stay or move on."

"Move on? To where?"

"I don't know. But I once traveled a golden road that went by wondrous places. Perhaps one day I'll walk it further and see more things."

"And will you be coming back if you do?"

"I think I must. Your land seems more like home to me than any other place I've ever lived."

"It's nice to have such choices," she said.

"If I live," he said.

When Moonbird returned, they stretched, brushed off sand and mounted, holding hands. The sun was higher and the jungle seemed greener now. They rose again, and soon Moonbird was bearing them south.

It was nearly noon when they sighted the stepped pyramid, approached it and began to circle.

You may be too late, Moonbird stated.

What do you mean?

Among the trees there are ships like the one you broke on the island.

I don't see...

I see their heat.

How many are there?

I count six.

I wonder how long they have been here? It could be an ambush.

Perhaps. What should I do?

I have to have that piece--

An explosion shook the pyramid.

"What--?" Nora began.

Go low and pass it fast. I want a better look.

Moonbird circled, positioned himself and began to fall. Pol studied the jungle, still unable to detect the vessels of which the dragon had spoken. As they descended, he turned his eyes toward the pyramid itself. Clumps of dirt slid down its sides, and a minor cave-in had occurred at one point. A cloud of dust rose like smoke above the structure.

They passed through the dust and swept in tow, regarding the pyramid and the trees beyond it. Nothing stirred. Moonbird commenced climbing once again.

"Gods!" Nora shouted above the wind. "What is it?"

A small man in dark garments had just emerged, running, from an opening in the far side of the pyramid. Moments later, a gigantic feathered head followed him out, to rise, swaying, tongue flashing like fire or blood. It continued to emerge, at great length, with such rapidity that the likelihood seemed strong that it would soon foil upon the man.

Moonbird! Stop! Go back! The jade strand--That man has the rod!

Moonbird was already braking, turning, growing warmer.

It is the serpent of the well! I have always wanted to meet him... You must slide off and run as soon as I strike. Take those things you would preserve.

Strike? No! You can't!

I must! I have waited ages for this! It is also the only way to save the man with your thing of power.

Pol struck him with his fists, but it seemed unlikely that Moonbird even felt the blows.

"Get ready to jump down and run!" he cried to Nora, slinging his guitar case, grabbing at the basket of water bottles.

The serpent heard the shout and turned its head upward. Moonbird landed upon its back a moment later. Pol slipped off to the right and began running. A great roaring and a loud hissing rose up behind him. He felt a wave of heat. He saw the giant serpent body twisting toward him. He dodged it, looking about for Nora as he moved. She was nowhere in sight. But the small man with the rod had stumbled and picked himself up again. They sighted one another at the same time, and Pol realized that it was Mouseglove.

"Nora!" he shouted. "Can you see her?"

Mouseglove gestured toward the trees on the other side of the scaly turmoil. Nora had apparently jumped or been thrown in the opposite direction from Pol. He began circling, running toward Mouseglove, well past the place where Moonbird, caught in a colorful coil, had begun to spew smoldering liquids upon his twisting adversary. Ignition followed, and he smelled burning feathers as he ran. At about the same moment, he caught sight of Nora, surrounded by a large body of short, stocky men resembling those he had seen upon Anvil Mountain. Several of them lay unmoving among the grasses and Nora's left shoulder was bloodied. He saw there were dark cords wrapped around her, and that she was being pushed off among the trees.

At that moment, the reptilian combatants rolled toward them and they fled.

They came together among the high growth to the east, gasping, leaning upon vine and fungus-decked trees.

"Hurry!" Pol said, extending his hand. "The rod! I need it!"

Mouseglove passed it to him, a thin, long section, sculpted with clouds, the moon, stars and a celestial palace set above them, angelic spirits passing through the high places. Pol dropped it twice before he succeeded in fitting it into place at the end of the other sections. The feeling of power that washed over him as he did so was immense. It steadied his hands as it made his head swirl. He straightened.

"We have to go after her," he said, facing back toward the sounds of crashing and roaring. He pointed to the left of that place. "We can move faster if we return to the clearing, stay away from the fight, skirt the jungle."

Mouseglove nodded and put up his hand.

"I don't think we'll succeed, but I believe that she is safe for now, anyway."