Hugh Cook - The Witchlord and the Weaponmaster

"Then why can't this Scarth claw away this force field?" said Sken-Pitilkin.

"Because," said Iva-Italis, "a force field of the kind of which we are talking about can only be destroyed by the application of metal. Iron will do, or steel. Bronze. Tin.

Whatever. But it must be metal!"

"Then I will remember to leave my wooden sword at home," said Guest.

"Do that," said Iva-Italis. "Go, now! Go! Do as you have vowed to do! Rescue the Great God! And you will be a wizard within the week!"

"The week!" said Guest. "You too know of this business of weeks!"

"It is true," said Iva-Italis, "for I am mighty in knowledge, and anything a wizard knows I know too. Go now! And do well!"

So Guest and Sken-Pitilkin departed from the Hall of Time, paying no heed to the cobwebbed time pods which were set about its walls, and occupied themselves with preparations for their journey. Guest found the time to seek out his brother Morsh Bataar, and to question him about his alleged wife; and Morsh inspired Guest's jealousy by confessing that he had indeed married one of the women of Ema-Urk, and that he had his own small sheep farm on that island, and had sired two sons.

"I will likewise have sons," said Guest, "for my wife Penelope will bear them for me. Once I have the powers of a wizard, I am sure I will be able to overcome her barrenness."

Comforted by this thought, the Weaponmaster occupied himself by choosing gear, and by climbing up and down the stairways of the mainrock Pinnacle to put a keen fighting edge on his fitness. And, once his father had recovered from his transitory illness, the questing heroes gathered together.

Need the heroes be named?

There was Witchlord and Weaponmaster; there was the servile Thayer Levant; and there were the wizards Pelagius Zozimus and Hostaja Sken-Pitilkin. Guest had wanted to bring with the wizard Ontario Nol, but Sken-Pitilkin had vetoed this.

"If your demon is telling the truth," said Sken-Pitilkin,

"then we have strength sufficient for our mission. And if your demon is lying, then the mere addition of another wizard will not help us if we have to fight the city of Obooloo as a whole."

"Of course the demon's telling the truth!" said Guest. "It wants to have Jocasta liberated!"

"Doubtless," said Sken-Pitilkin grimly. "But if the task were so simple, then one suspects it would have been performed long ago. Anyway, let us be going!"

So the questing heroes passed through the Circle of the Partnership Banks to the city of Obooloo, where they enjoyed the hospitality of the Sanctuary of the Bondsmans Guild on the heights of the great rock Achaptipop.

There Sken-Pitilkin improvised a kind of air-raft, a primitive flying device sufficient to sustain the weight of the heroes and moderate their descent from Achaptipop to the central courtyard of the Temple of Doom.

When all was ready, the heroes gathered by the edge of Achaptipop, and, aided by Sken-Pitilkin's air-raft, they floated gently down to the central courtyard of the Temple of Blood. In the gloom of night, they located the archway on the courtyard's eastern flank. The arch opened onto a tunnel of uncommon darkness, a tunnel which could have doubled as part of the gut of a whale.

The heroes drew their swords and ventured into that darkness.

It was an uncommonly moist darkness, which smelt alternately of the sewer and the brothel. As he shuffled forward through that absolute blackness, the Weaponmaster Guest started to find it difficult to keep his balance. A momentary dizziness beset him, and found himself breathing swiftly, too swiftly.

"We should have brought a lamp," said Thayer Levant.

"Hush!" said Guest, who thought that Levant's rightful mission on this quest was to hew firewood, draw water and peel potatoes, not to pass comment on the plans and performance of his social superiors. Thayer Levant did hush, though in all truth the knifeman felt himself well-qualified to pass comment. Levant had traveled the Circle of the Partnership Banks for a great many years as the servant of Plandruk Qinplaqus, hence thought himself an expert on that Circle and its cities; and, to him, his companions on this present quest were but rank amateurs in the art of traveling the world.

Once Levant had hushed, the silence became oppressive. Each of the questing heroes could hear the steady scrapage of boots against stone, the clinkage of metal, and the tiny sounds made by their tongues and their teeth, by the creaking of their kneecaps and the hush-wash of their breathing.

In the black and oppressive hush, wash after wash of smells assailed them. From somewhere came the smell of dung; then that of camphor; then a sweet, sickly perfume of the kind favored by women of ill repute, or by young women who have yet to learn the art of sophisticated restraint in matters of self-enhancement. In that darkness -

"Stop," said the Witchlord Onosh.

All stopped.

"What is it?" said Guest.

"Something," said Lord Onosh.

"What?" said Guest.

"Hush! Not so loud!" said his father.

"What is it?" said Sken-Pitilkin.

"A light," said the Witchlord.

It was a dull, red light which lay ahead of them. It was so dull it was almost impossible to see. Sken-Pitilkin stared at it for a long moment, then abruptly strode forward. The light moved.

"The light's moving!" cried the Witchlord.

"Because," said Sken-Pitilkin, with scathing scorn, "it is in my hand. That's why it's moving."

Then Sken-Pitilkin returned to his companions, bearing in his fist a stick of incense, which he waved rigorously before letting it fall. Like a dying star, the incense lay on the stones.

"Light," muttered Lord Onosh. "I wish we had light."

Then the Witchlord bethought himself of the ring of ever-ice which he had taken from Banker Sod long, long ago on his first conquest of the island of Alozay. Lord Onosh now customarily wore that ring on a chain slung around his neck. Bethinking himself of that light, he produced it: but its feebleness could scarcely do more than illuminate his own face.

Not to be outdone, Guest Gulkan produced his mazadath. That amulet was a light more powerful than the Witchlord's ring of ever-ice, but it was insufficient to light the path.

"Hush down your lights," said Pelagius Zozimus. "They can but betray us. They cannot serve us."

Both Witchlord and Weaponmaster accepted this admonishment from the slug-chef Zozimus, and, concealing their futile lights, they pushed on down the tunnel until they saw a familiar green glow ahead.

That steady-burning jadeness was sure sign of the presence of a demon. Or so thought these questing heroes! As it happens, they were right, though some experts hold that the eyes of a basilisk burn with just such a cold and steady green; and certain mariners aver that a kraken encountered at night will be seen to emanate a similar baleful light; and one of the brands of the moonpaint which comes from the city of Injiltaprajura is most definitely a thus-shaded green.

Still, in the confidence of encountering a demon, Guest Gulkan and his companions advanced, and found themselves in a vaulted octagonal chamber. Ranked around the walls of that chamber were niches in which stood timeprison pods identical to those of Alozay's Hall of Time – some occupied, others not.

"Time pods," said Thayer Levant.

"And a demon," said Sken-Pitilkin.

Indeed, in the center of that chamber stood a jade-green monolith identical in outward form to Icaria Scaria Iva-Italis, demon of Safrak. Thanks to a briefing from Iva-Italis, Guest Gulkan knew this to be the demon Ungular Scarth, a servant of the Great God Jocasta.

Illuminated by the green frostlight of the demon Ungular Scarth was the Great God Jocasta. As advertised, the Great God was a doughnut the size of a man's head. It was floating in the air within two shells of light. The inner shell of light was a dull red, the red of iron which has lately been removed from a furnace, and is cooling. The outer shell was blue – a sharp-burning blue which hurt the eyes and made Guest Gulkan think of the sun, and of teeth. (Why teeth? He could not tell, but that outer shell of blue-burning light made him think most decisively of saliva and teeth).