Hugh Cook - The Walrus and the Warwolf

'Thanks, fans,' said Drake, in a sardonic voice which suggested his nerves were in a much better state than they were.

He began to strut his stuff, waving to the crowd, and blowing kisses in all directions. This posturing performance took him to a tall much-gargoyled pillar of stone standing amidst the sands of the arena just thirty paces from the Door.

Tied to it was a man with purple skin and violet eyes. He wore a purple robe clasped with a golden brooch. Gold hung from his ears. Was it … ? Yes. It was Prince Oronokd. Drake never forgot a truly hated rival. So who was that tied to the other side of the gargoyled post?

It proved to be a high-breasted woman with flaming red hair. Her cloak was also purple, but her skin was the same red as her hair.'Zanya!' shouted Drake.

His voice, hoarse with a regular battle-thirst, cracked as he screamed her name. She looked at him with eyes dull with the horrors of imprisonment, nightmare and threat of death.'Who are you?' she said.

'You know who I am!' said Drake. 'Your lover! Your one and only love! Your true love, aye!'

'I have no love,' said Zanya, in a dull voice. 'I live only for the Flame.''But I love you!' said Drake.

'Are you an emissary from the Flame?' she asked, bewildered at these declarations of love from a total stranger.

'Yes,' said Drake, deciding that full explanations of his undying love for her could wait until later.

And he cut her loose.'My name is Zanya,' she said.

T know,' said Drake. 'Didn't I just shout your name? You are Zanya Kliedervaust, the most beautiful woman in the whole world.'

'The Flame has no use for beauty,' said Zanya, speaking like one drugged or drunk. Or sleeptalking, perhaps.

'You're beautiful regardless,' said Drake. 'And passionate. Gouda Muck told me. He said you dream nightly of lust.'

'Yes,' she said, shocked to realize Gouda Muck had somehow divined her secret at a distance and communicated it to this stranger.

'Gouda Muck sent me here,' said Drake, inventing furiously. 'He sent me to gratify your physical passion and impregnate you with many children.'Zanya swayed on her feet.

'I think we may have a communications problem here,' she said faintly. 'I don't think Gouda Muck could have said quite that. Anyway, arguments later – cut free our fellow worshipper.'And she pointed at purple-skinned Oronoko.

'As you wish, Zanya,' said Drake, who did not think this strictly necessary.

Oronoko, cut free, began to massage his wrists, but added nothing to their conversation since he still spoke no Galish.'Oh, look!' said Zanya. 'Two more striders!'

She pointed to a gate set in the wall of the arena, from which another two lizard-monsters were venturing.

'See that steel arch but thirty paces away?' said Drake. 'It's aDoor to Elsewhere. Run for it!'

They ran toward the Door. But halted abruptly as a dozen savages burst out of it. The savages milled around screaming in a battle-frenzy. The striders came on with huge, loping strides. Running. Animated nightmares.'We're doomed!' cried Zanya.

Then the savages scattered away from the Door. Something had come through that Door. Something big. Twice as tall as a man. As broad in the shoulders as a man's outstretched arms. It carried a great metal rod in its hands.'Watch out!' screamed Zanya. 'A giant!'

'That's no giant,' said Drake. 'That's Whale Mike. As he'd say – he my friend.'

The savages ran, fearing for their lives. But the striders had no such fear. On they came. Drake hauled Zanya into the safety of Mike's shadow. Oronoko followed, not knowing what else to do.'This strange place,' said Mike, looking around.'This very strange place,' said Drake.

Then the first of the striders was upon them. Whale Mike swung his battle-rod. Thwapl The monster's head exploded into a spray of blood and bone. Its headless body went down, limbs flailing, kicking up sprays of sand.

'Oh, great stuff, great stuff!' said Drake. 'Mike, you could just about take on a watermelon stand!''He could just about what?' said Zanya.

'Do battle with a watermelon stand,' said Drake. 'They're fearful dangerous, man.'

'I'm a woman,' she said. 'And you're babbling. And -look, there's crocodiles!'

As Mike dealt death to the second strider, Drake looked where Zanya was pointing and saw a horde of low-slung beasts slithering out of the gate from whence the striders had come.

'Those are crocodiles?' he said, disappointed. T thought they'd be bigger.'

'They're four times man-length,' said Zanya, 'and there's dozens of them. Isn't that enough for you? Where's this Door you were talking about?'

'There!' said Drake, pointing at the silver screen humming in the steel archway.And he hustled her through it.

Oronoko saw them vanish – but held his ground. He was confused. Bemused. He didn't know what to make of it. That, under the circumstances, was pardonable.

'Don't wait around, man!' yelled Jon Disaster. 'This place is bad news!'

And he hustled through the Door, dragging Oronoko with him. The pair found themselves on a beach. With Drake. And Zanya. And a heap of hands and feet. And some discarded spears. Some swords. Oronoko armed himself.

'Where do you think we are?' said Drake. 'Somewhere cold,' said Zanya, shivering in her thin purple robe.

The sea was a grey-thrash wilderness. The beach was brown-scab desolation of sand, rock and fractured rust. The hinterland was a desolation of wind-spiking reeds. Out of the reeds, with a scream, came a dozen warriors. They wore leather breeches and sheepskin jackets.'Run!' screamed Drake.

He hauled Zanya through the Door. And found himself on a marble plinth in a ruin-ringed slade deep in a bitter-chill forest. He was back in the Old City where he had first entered the Circle of the Door.

The muddy clearing was littered with carcasses. Corpses of three dozen warriors dressed in leather breeches and sheepskin jackets. Bodies of sixteen grey armoured monsters slaughtered by those warriors. At the edge of the forest, one poor fellow was yelling his head off as a great yellow slug browsed on his legs.

Drake turned back to the Door. Then stopped. What? Go round again? No, that was crazy. Better to wait here for the others, who couldn't be far behind.

'Welcome to my nightmare,' said Drake to Zanya. 'This is the Old City of Penvash Utter.''Is it?' said Zanya, without much interest.

'Aye,' said Drake. 'My grandfather ruled here once, when my family was still kings and all.'

'Oh,' said Zanya, in her dull sleepwalking voice. Then: 'I'm cold.'

'There's a cure for that,' said Drake, jumping down from the marble plinth. 'As long as you're not fussy.'

Zanya, as unfussy as they come, was soon dressed in leather breeches cut off just below the knees, and a warm sheepskin jacket. She wore her purple cloak over those garments.'Where are we?' she said.

'As I told you,' said Drake. 'In Penvash. The northwest corner of Argan. Understand?'

He was alarmed to find her mind so foggy when the demands of survival were so great.

'Oh,' she said. 'Penvash. I've been here before, I think. In a dream. But. . . what. . . what's that. . . ?'

She pointed at a slug, which was cruising towards them. Very calmly. Other slugs were emerging from the forest. Slowly, they oozed over the dead, absorbing them. The screaming man at the forest's edge stopped screaming. He was dead.

'Those slugs are murder,' said Drake. 'Stay away from them.'One was very close now. 'Shall we run?' said Zanya.

'I'm tired of running,' said Drake. And, to the slug: 'Come on then.'

As the slug came within range, Drake hacked with his sword. The bronze gashed home sweetly. With a hiss, the entire blade sizzled into steam. Drake was left holding the hilt alone. Phlegmatically, the slug oozed forward, oblivious of the weak slurry of yellow spilling from its wound.'Now we run!' yelled Drake.