Piers Anthony - Castle Roogna

"Are you really going to help the King?" Dor asked. "I mean, if we break the siege here?"

"Yes. To please the lady. And to please you."

Still Dor was troubled. "There is something else I must tell you."

"You are about to risk your life in the defense of my castle. Speak without inhibition."

"The lady…is doomed to die young. I know this from history."

The Zombie Master's hand froze, with a translucent piece of puzzle held between gaunt ringers. The piece changed from warm red light to cold blue ice. "I know that you would not deliberately deceive me."

Maybe he had spoken too uninhibitedly "I would be deceiving you if I failed to warn you. She-maybe death is not the right word. But she will be a ghost for centuries. So you will not be able to-" Dor found himself overcome by remorse at what he could not prevent. "I think someone will murder her, or try to. At age seventeen."

"What age is she now?"

"Seventeen."

The Magician rested his head against his band. The puzzle-piece turned white. "I suppose I could make a zombie of her, and keep her with me. But it wouldn't be the same."

"She-if you're helping the King to please her-or to please any of us-we'll all be gone within the year. So it may not be worth it, to-"

"Your honesty becomes painful," the Zombie Master said. "Yet it seems that if I am to please any of you, I must do it promptly. There may not again in my lifetime be opportunity to please anyone worth pleasing."

Dor did not know what to say to this, so he simply put out his hand. The Magician set down the puzzle-piece, which had turned black, and shook Dor's hand gravely. They returned to the puzzle, speaking no more.

The puzzle, Dor wondered-for his mind had to get away from the grim prior subject. How could this puzzle be the tapestry, when they were all within the tapestry? Was it possible to enter this forming picture, by means of a suitable spell, and find another world within it? Or had the tapestry been merely a gateway, the entry point, not the world itself? Was it coincidence that he should be assembling this particular picture at this juncture? The Zombie Master was the key to this whole quest, the vital element-and he had the tapestry, the key to the entry to this world. Yet he had given it to Jumper. How did this relate?

Dor shook his head. Such mysteries were beyond his fathoming. All he could do was…what he could do.

Chapter 8

Commitment

That night Dor and Jumper departed the castle on the spider's line. It would have been possible to convey Millie out in the same manner, but they cared neither to subject her to the risk nor to desert the Zombie Master, even had circumstances been otherwise. There were Mundane sentries posted; Millie would have screamed, and that would have been disastrous. As it was, Dor trusted Jumper's night vision to thread them through the dark foliage, and they managed to pass without being detected. Soon they were deep in the jungle, beyond the Mundane ring of troops.

"We'd better start with the lord of the jungle," Dor said. "If he goes along with it, most of the rest will. That is the nature of jungles."

"And if the lord does not cooperate?"

"Then you will use your safety line to yank me out of his reach, in a hurry."

Jumper affixed a dragline to him, then carried the other end. In an emergency, the spider would be able to act quickly. Dor found himself wishing he had a silk-making gland; those lines were extremely handy.

The spider found him a rock in the dark. "Where is the local dragon king?" Dor demanded of it.

The stone directed him to a narrow hole in a rocky hillside. "This is it?" Dor inquired dubiously.

"You'd better believe it," the cave replied.

"Oh, I believe it!" Dor said, not wishing to antagonize the residence of the monster he hoped to bargain with.

"And if you care to depart uncooked, you'd better not wake the monarch," the cave said.

Jumper chittered. "That small cave has a large mouth."

"What?" the cave demanded.

Dor gulped. "I have to wake him." Then he put his hands to his mouth and called. "Dragon! I must parlay. I have news of interest to you."

There was a snort from deep within the cave. Then a plume of smoke wafted out, white in the blackness, followed by a rolling growl. The scent of scorch suffused the air.

"What does he say?" Dor asked the cave. "He says that if you have news of interest, come into his parlor. Your life depends on the accuracy of your advance promotion."

"His parlor?" Jumper chittered. "That is an ominous phrasing. When a spider invites-"

Dor had not bargained on this. "In there? In the dragon's cave?"

"See any other caves, man-roast?" the cave demanded.

Jumper made another soft chitter. "Huge mouth!"

"I guess I'd better go down," Dor said. "I have better night vision; let me go," Jumper chittered.

"No. You can't use objects to translate the dragon's speech, and I can't jump into trees and string a line to the castle wall. I must talk with the dragon. You must be ready to bear the news." He swallowed again. "In case my mission fails. You can communicate with Millie, now, by signals."

Jumper touched him with a foreleg, the pressure expressive. "Your logic prevails, friend Dor-man. I shall listen by this entrance, and return alone if necessary. I will draw you up by the dragline if you call, rapidly. Have courage, friend."

"I'm scared as hell." But Dor remembered what the gorgon had said about courage: that it was a matter of doing what needed to be done despite fear. He was bleakly reassured. Maybe technically he would be a dead hero, instead of a dead coward. "If-if something happens, try to salvage some piece of me, and keep it with you. I think the return spell will orient on it, and carry you home when the time is up. I wouldn't want you to be trapped in this world."

"It would not be doom," Jumper replied. "This world is a novel experience."

More of an experience than Dor had bargained for! He took a breath, then slid into the cave's big mouth. The interior was not large enough to permit him to stand, as the throat constricted, but that did not mean the dragon was small. Dragons tended to be long and sinuous.

The passage curved down and around, so black it was impossible to see. "Warn me of any drops, spikes, or other geographic hazards," Dor said.

"There are none, other than the dragon," the wall replied. "That's more than enough."

"I wish there were a little light," Dor muttered. "Too bad I gave away my wishing ring."

The dragon growled from below. "You want light?" the wall translated. "I'll give you light!" And tongues of bright flame snaked up the passage.

"Not that much!" Dor cried, cringing from the heat.

The flames subsided. It was evident that the dragon understood human speech, and was not blasting him indiscriminately. That was both reassuring and alarming. If there was anything more dangerous than a dragon, it was an intelligent dragon. Yet of course the smartest dragon would be most likely to rise to leadership in the complex hierarchy of the wilderness. Provided it also possessed sufficient ferocity.

Dor emerged at last in the stomach of the cave. This was the dragon's lair. The light waxed and waned, here, as the monster breathed and the flames washed out of his mouth. In the waxing the whole cave glittered, for of course the nest was made of diamonds. Not paltry ones like those of the small flying dragon Crunch the ogre had cowed; huge ones, befitting the status of the lord of the jungle. They refracted the light, reflected it, focused it, and broke it up into rainbow splays. Colors cascaded across the walls and ceiling, and bathed the dragon itself in re-reflected hues. Crunch the ogre would never beard this monster in his den!