Абрахам Меррит - Dwellers in the Mirage

The blade of Lur parried the stroke, swept in…bit deep…and Evalie fell…Lur leaped toward me…I watched her come, not moving, not caring…there was blood upon her sword…Evalie's blood…

Something like a flash of light touched her breast. She halted as though a hand had thrust her back. Slowly, she dropped to her knees. She sank to the rock.

Over the rim of the platform leaped the dog–wolf, howling as it ran. It hurled itself straight at me. There was another flash of light. The dog–wolf somersaulted and fell—in mid–leap.

I saw Sri, crouching. One of his javelins was in Lur's breast, the mate to it in the dog–wolf's throat…I saw the golden pygmy running to Evalie…saw her rise, holding a hand to a shoulder from which streamed blood…

I walked toward Lur, stiffly, like an automaton. The white wolf tried to stagger to its feet, then crawled to the Witch–woman, dragging itself on its belly. It reached her before I did. It dropped its head upon her breast. It turned its head, and lay glaring at me, dying.

The Witch–woman looked up at me. Her eyes were soft and her mouth had lost all cruelty. It was tender. She smiled at me.

"I wish you had never come here, Yellow–hair!"

And then—

"Ai—and—Ai! My Lake of the Ghosts!"

Her hand crept up, and dropped on the head of the dying wolf, caressingly. She sighed—

The Witch–woman was dead.

I looked into the awed faces of Evalie and Dara. "Evalie—your wound—"

"Not deep, Leif…Soon it will heal…it does not matter…"

Dara said:

"Hail—Dwayanu! It is a great thing you have done this day!"

She dropped on her knees, kissed my hand. And now I saw that those of mine who had survived the battle in the temple had come up on the platform, and were kneeling—to me. And that Ouarda lay beside Tubalka's anvil, and that Sri too was on his knees, staring at me, eyes filled with worship.

I heard the tumult of the drums of the Little People…no longer on Nanbu's far side…in Karak…and closer.

Dara spoke again:

"Let us be going back to Karak, Lord. It is now all yours to rule."

I said to Sri:

"Sound your drum, Sri. Tell them that Evalie lives. That Lur is dead. That the gate of Khalk'ru is closed forever. Let there be no more killing."

Sri answered:

"What you have done has wiped out all war between my people and Karak. Evalie and you we will obey. I will tell them what you have done."

He swung the little drum, raised his hands to beat it I stopped him.

"Wait, Sri, I shall not be here to obey."

Dara cried: "Dwayanu—you will not leave us!"

"Yes, Dara…I go now to that place whence I came…I do not return to Karak. I am done with the Little People, Sri."

Evalie spoke, breathlessly:

"What of me—Leif?"

I put my hands on her shoulders, looked into her eyes:

"Last night you whispered that you would go with me, Evalie. I release you from that promise…I am thinking you would be happier here with your small folk…"

She said, steadily:

"I know where happiness lies for me. I hold to my promise…unless you do not want me…"

"I do want you—dark girl!"

She turned to Sri: "Carry my love to my people, Sri. I shall not see them again."

The little man clung to her, cast himself down before her, wailed and wept while she talked to him. At last he squatted on his haunches, and stared long at the shattered gate of the Kraken. I saw the secret knowledge touch him. He came to me, held up his arms for me to lift him. He raised my lids and looked deep into my eyes. He thrust his hand in my breast, and placed his head on my breast, and listened to the beating of my heart. He dropped, bent Evalie's head to his, whispering.

Dara said: "Dwayanu's will is our will. Yet it is hard to understand why he will not stay with us."

"Sri knows…more than I do. I cannot, Dara."

Evalie came to me. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Sri says we must go now, Leif…quickly. My people must—not see me. He will tell them a tale upon his drum…there will be no fighting…and henceforth there will be peace."

The golden pygmy began to beat the talking drum. At the first strokes the hosts of other drums were silent. When he had ended they began again…jubilant, triumphant…until in them crept a note of questioning. Once more he beat a message…the answer came—angry, peremptory—in some queer fashion, incredulous.

Sri said to me: "Haste! Haste!"

Dara said: "We stay with you, Dwayanu, until the last."

I nodded, and looked at Lur. Upon her hand the ring of Khalk'ru sent out a sudden gleam. I went to her, lifted the dead hand and took from it the ring. I smashed it on the anvil of Tubalka as I had the ring of Yodin.

Evalie said: "Sri knows a way that will lead us out into your world, Leif. It lies at the head of Nanbu. He will take us."

"Is the way past the Lake of Ghosts, Evalie?"

"I will ask him…yes, it passes there."

"That is good. We go into a country where the clothing I wear would be hardly fitting. And some provision must be made for you."

We rode from the temple with Sri on my saddle, and Evalie and Dara on either side. The drums were very close. They were muted when we emerged from the forest upon the road. We went swiftly. It was mid–afternoon when we reached the Lake of the Ghosts. The drawbridge was down. There was no one in the garrison. The Witch–woman's castle was empty. I searched, and found my roll of clothes; I stripped the finery of Dwayanu from me. I took a battle–ax, thrust a short sword in my belt, picked javelins for Evalie and myself. They would help us win through, would be all we had to depend upon to get us food later on. We took food with us from Lur's castle, and skins to clothe Evalie when she passed from the Mirage.

I did not go up into the chamber of the Witch–woman. I heard the whispering of the waterfall—and did not dare to look upon it.

All the rest of that afternoon we galloped along the white river's banks. The drums of the Little People followed us…searching… questioning…calling…"Ev–ah–lee…Ev–ah–lee… Ev–ah–lee…"

By nightfall we had come to the cliffs at the far end of the valley. Here Nanbu poured forth in a mighty torrent from some subterranean source. We picked our way across. Sri led us far into a ravine running steeply upward, and here we camped.

And that night I sat thinking long of what Evalie must meet in that new world awaiting her beyond the Mirage—the world of sun and stars and wind and cold. I thought long of what must be done to shield her until she could adjust herself to that world. And I listened to the drums of the Little People calling her, and I watched her while she slept, and wept and smiled in dream.

She must be taught to breathe. I knew that when she emerged from this atmosphere in which she had lived since babyhood, she would cease instantly to breathe—deprivation of the accustomed stimulus of the carbon–dioxide would bring that about at once. She must will herself to breathe until the reflexes again became automatic and she need give them no conscious thought. And at night, when she slept, this would be trebly difficult. I would have to remain awake, watch beside her.

And she must enter this new world with eyes bandaged, blind, until the nerves accustomed to the green luminosity of the Mirage could endure the stronger light. Warm clothing we could contrive from the skins and furs. But the food—what was it Jim had said in the long and long ago—that those who had eaten the food of the Little People would die if they ate other. Well, that was true in part. Yet, only in part—it could be managed.

With dawn came a sudden memory—the pack I had hidden on Nanbu's bank when we had plunged into the white river with the wolves at our heels. If that could be found, it would help solve the problem of Evalie's clothing at least. I told Dara about it. And she and Sri set out to find it. And while they were gone the soldier–women foraged for food and I instructed Evalie upon what she must do to cross in safety that bridge which lay, perilous, between her world and mine.