He arrived this time at a different location, in a Magic Lantern Cloud, coming to rest on the surface of a lovely Earthlike planet. Here space was not densely crowded with stars, so it was evident that distinct days and nights were feasible. Stately oak trees shaded the greensward, and daffodils grew in pleasant clusters.
Immediately before him stood a marvelously lovely young woman. Her hair was long but curly, like a mass of golden shavings, and she wore a long and modest dress that could not conceal her aesthetic contours. Her eyes were gray-blue, her lips red, and her hands and feet were quite dainty. She was staring at Norton with an attitude of faint surprise and dismay.
“Hello,” he said experimentally.
“But I meant to conjure a steed!” she exclaimed indignantly. She held up her right hand, one of whose delicate fingers bore a large and obviously magic ring.
“It seems your conjuration glitched,” Norton said apologetically. “I’m just a man.”
“A demon, belike!” she snorted. She stamped her petite foot angrily. “The magic works but once a day; now it is wasted, and I am stranded afoot. What use have I for a mere man?”
Why was it that the prettiest young women were the least interested in men? “Uh, maybe I can help you find another steed.”
She studied him appraisingly, as if he might after all be of some use. “Be that a magic ring you wear?”
He glanced at Sning. “Yes, in a manner of speaking.”
“Then do you use it to conjure me a steed to replace the one you usurped,” she commanded imperiously.
“But it’s not that kind of ring.”
Her eyes fairly flashed fire. “What manner of man are you, to tease a maiden so? You owe me a steed!”
Norton wasn’t sure about that, but she was so pretty and sure of herself that he really did not want to disappoint her. He would have to show her the nature of his ring. “Sning- “
Sning uncoiled from his finger and slithered across his hand and dropped to the verdant ground. He expanded as he did so, becoming a regularly sized green snake, and then a python, and finally a monster a foot in diameter.
“Sirrah!” the Damsel exclaimed, drawing a gleaming dagger. “Ye shall not consume me without a fight!”
“Oh, Sning doesn’t eat people,” Norton said uncertainly. “He’s friendly. I think he’s offering himself as a steed.” He was amazed at this development; he had never suspected that Sning could change size. Maybe it was a talent limited to visits to contraterrene worlds, where the rules might differ.
“Fool would I be indeed to trust my tender flesh to the back of that fell reptile!” she cried.
“I’m sure it’s safe. Here, I’ll show you.” Norton approached the monstrous Sning and climbed clumsily onto an elevated loop. The snake’s flesh was firm and dry and slightly resilient, quite comfortable, and not slippery. Norton had no trouble maintaining his perch. “See-Sning will carry you anywhere you need to go. Miss- “
“Excelsia,” she said. “And who be ye?”
“Norton.” Fresh from his dialogue with Orlene, he did not care to go into the Chronos business yet. He wondered, irrelevantly, what her rule was for the use of “you” and “ye,” as it did not seem consistent.
“I’ll not ride that creature alone, sirrah!” Norton shrugged. “I’ll ride with you, of course.” He had not intended to separate from Sning anyway. “You can take another coil.”
Warily she approached a loop behind his own. She mounted, sitting demurely sidesaddle. “But where are the reins?”
“I think he’s under voice control. Where are you going?”
She cocked her head prettily. “Why, I had not decided.”
“You wanted to conjure a steed without having a destination?”
Cute annoyance fleeted across her face. “Well, usually I fetch in a handsome unicorn, and we decide together.”
A unicorn. It figured. Back on Earth such creatures were hideously expensive, and the prospective owner had to show a pedigree as detailed as that of the animal before being permitted the purchase. Unicorns, like dragons, had gone underground during the so-called enlightened period, having their horns amputated, which, of course, robbed them of most of their magical powers. But they still bred true, and now there were some fine breeds openly displayed. It had been a similar story with winged horses. In time there would be greater numbers of them; but at present, rarity put a premium on all such magical steeds. Here, it seemed, such animals were more common.
“Why not go to the unicorn corral, or whatever, and fetch one now?”
Excelsia issued a tinkling peal of laughter. “Sirrah, no one fetches a unicorn other than by compulsion of magic charm, and then it can only be accomplished by a lovely virgin like me.”
Oh. Just so. “Well, maybe some other type of steed. One you can keep from day to day so you don’t have to conjure a new one each time you want to ride.”
Again she cocked her head, considering. She did not seem to be unusually intelligent, but her beauty made up for that. “There be only one magical steed a person can keep, and that one be already under the spell of the Evil Sorceress.”
“What steed is that?”
Her face became rapturous. “The Alicorn.”
“The what?”
“He be a winged unicorn, the finest equine flesh extant, the adoration of every fair and innocent maiden. For that steed I would give anything.”
“Anything?”
She glanced sharply at him, making a moue. “What was that thought, sirrah?”
Norton reddened. “It’s just that-as I understand it- if you gave that gift that only you can give, you wouldn’t be able to keep the Alicorn.”
“True,” she agreed shortly. “But it makes no nevermind; for no one can capture the Alicorn anyway.”
“Well, let’s explore this. Exactly what are the barriers to acquisition?”
She frowned. “What was that word?”
“Acquisition. That is, capturing the Alicorn.”
“Oh. First there be the Evil Sorceress, who must be slain ere the preserve be approached. Then- “
He didn’t like this. “Slain? Isn’t there a gentler way?”
“Who intrudes on her territory but slays her not, she turns to slime.”
Point made! “One can’t reason with her?”
“Reason with that bi- “She paused. “I fear I know not the applicable term.”
“Of course you don’t,” he agreed gently. , “Have you ever tried to reason with a woman?” she demanded challengingly.
“I’m sure I wouldn’t get far,” he conceded, and that mollified her. “Assuming we get by the Evil Sorceress, what other barriers are there?”
“The Evil Estate be fraught with hostile creatures and unkind spells. It be virtual death merely to set foot within it.”
She was serious, and that made him nervous, but he felt obliged to learn whatever he could about this. “We might not set foot,” he said. “We could ride Sning in, so only his coils would touch the ground.”
“There be that,” she agreed, pleased. “Let’s assume we get safely into the Evil Estate. Then what?”
“The Guardian Dragon,” she said.
“Dragon?” Gawain the Ghost had trained him in dragon slaying, but from that training Norton had gleaned a profound respect for the battle prowess of the species. It was best to avoid a dragon!
“Huge, enormous, and tremendous,” she said, her attractive eyes narrowing with anticipated horror. “A big monster, very large, and of formidable size. He slays all who dast approach. He patrols the region around the Alicorn’s pen, and none may pass unchallenged.” She glanced obliquely at him. “Unless you, kind sir, perchance-?”
“As it happens,” Norton said unwillingly, “I’ve had some training in dragon fighting. But of course I’ve never actually- “
“Oh Joy!” she exclaimed, clapping her little hands with maidenly delight. “Then we can pass the monster!”
Norton wanted to demur, but her expression of pleasure was so gratifying that he left the qualification unvoiced. It was very hard for a reasonable man to disappoint a lovely woman. “So if we should somehow get to the Alicorn- “
“Then still be the victory not ours,” she said, “for he be the wildest of creatures. Fire snorts from his nostrils and sparks from his mane, and were he not cruelly tethered in place, he would bound into the sky and vanish from human ken forever.” Her gaze lowered, a token of sorrow at the loss.
“Is there any way to tame him so he will stay voluntarily with you?”
“Aye, there be a Word of Power. Utter it, and he be tame.”
“What Word is that?”
She shrugged tragically. “Alas, I know not!”
“Well, first things first. How does one kill the Evil Sorceress?”
“For that, methinks only the Enchanted Sword will do.”
That sounded good; it helped to have magic when interacting with a dragon. “Where is that?”
She shrugged again. It was an intriguing motion, the way she performed it. “I know not, sirrah. It is said that the Sword will appear only to a truly worthy Hero, lifted from deep water by a hidden hand.”
Norton sighed. He surely did not qualify for that Sword! He should have known there would be a catch. Also, he saw no water near-and if there had been any, how would he know which deep water, where?
Sning brought his head around to look at him. “You have an answer?” Norton inquired. Then, quickly: “Don’t answer in the usual way!”
Sning’s face was not structured for smiling, but he tried. It would be some squeezing, in his present form! Then he nodded his huge head, once.
“You can lead us to the Enchanted Sword?”
Nod.
“Great! Go to it, then!”
Sning returned his head to the front and commenced motion. Now his coils undulated, so that Norton and Excelsia bobbled up and down as if on merry-go-round steeds-and sideways, too. At the bottom of a loop their feet dragged in the greensward, so Norton hefted his heels to the top of the coil and rode with his knees bent before him. Whatever magic kept him on seemed to have no trouble with that. But when Excelsia tried to lift her own feet higher, her voluminous skirt tended to fall away from her shapely legs, embarrassing her. Norton pretended not to notice; certainly she had no cause to be ashamed of flesh like that, however.
Sning coursed rapidly through the forest, field, and fen, and drew up at a large mud-puddle.
“This?” Norton asked, dismayed. “No shining, still, mysterious, deep water lake?”
Sning pointed his nose firmly at the puddle.
How far reality differed from myth! Norton resigned himself and dismounted. He approached the puddle. His feet sank squishily into its margin, and he worried that it might be quicksand. “Wait!” he told himself. “I shouldn’t be afraid of sand! It’s the essence of the symbol of my office!”
“Office?” Excelsia inquired, perplexed. “Never mind.” He brought out his Hourglass and waved it at the sand. Instantly his footing firmed. He put the Hourglass away again and trod on up to the edge of the puddle.
As his toes touched the obscure murk, there was a ripple in the center. Slowly an object pushed up. It was a weed-strewn, filthy old sword with a rusty blade.
Well, he was no King Arthur; he probably didn’t rate a first-class accommodation. Norton leaned forward and grasped the handle of the Sword. The thing seemed stuck, so he had to exert considerable force to lift it clear of the mud.
No wonder! The hand that had brought the weapon up did not let go. As Norton heaved, he drew forth not only the Sword but the mud-soaked little man holding it. The man was garbed in archaic clothing topped by a large, floppy hat. “Who’re you?” Norton asked, surprised, as he swung the Sword over land, dangling the man.
“I’m the Sword Elf, of course,” the man said grumpily. “You sure took your time rescuing me.”
“Was that what I was doing?”
“Sure,” the Elf said, brushing ineffectively at his coating of mud. “I only use the Sword as bait so someone will pull me out of that black hole.”
Myth was taking a further beating! “How long have you been in there?”
“Oh, a century or two. Hard to keep proper track of time in the dark. But they sure don’t make Heroes like they used to.”
“Are you telling me this Sword is a fake? That it’s not enchanted?”
“It’s enchanted, all right,” the Elf said. “Do you think anyone would bother with a fake sword?”
“This will slay the Evil Sorceress?”
“Sure. That’s what it’s for.”
“How is it against dragons?”
“Adequate. Dragons have counterspells, diminishing the effect. Of course, it helps if you know how to use a sword and how to tackle a dragon. The most devastatingly enchanted weapon in the world won’t do much in the hands of an ignoramus.”
“Good enough.” Norton was willing to take things at face value, since this seemed to be a face-value world. He would have to trust in the quality of the training Gawain had provided him and in the potency of the Sword’s enchantment. He walked back to Sning.
The Elf followed, mounting a third coil. It seemed Norton had picked up another companion.
“Well, let’s tackle the Evil Sorceress,” Norton said. There didn’t seem to be much else to do except carry on with the episode, and if he encountered something lethal- well, he would be returned to his mansion in Purgatory so that he could proceed with his job. But he was so constituted that he had to make an honest try to improve things here; he couldn’t simply quit.
Sning got under way, zooming across hill and dale and around mountain and moor. Norton enjoyed the scenery; this was indeed his type of exploration. “This be almost as good a ride as on a normal steed,” Excelsia confessed. She had found out how to tuck her skirt in around her bent knees so that nothing showed, unfortunately. In due course the Evil Estate hove into view. On it stood a great old stone castle with a few window slits and tall, dark towers. Snow topped its lofty turrets, though the climate was pleasant enough at ground level. It was surrounded by giant, ugly trees. It looked like the bleakest and e vilest of places.
They slid up to the ring of trees. Immediately a great, gnarled branch swung down menacingly. Norton swung his Sword up to intercept it-and the blade sliced through the wood as if it were soft cheese.
The tree made a groan as of bending in a cruel gale wind and whipped its stump away. Reddish sap dripped from the wound. Norton looked at the Sword with new respect. Where the contact with the wood had cleaned away the mud and rust, the blade virtually gleamed. This was, indeed, an excellent weapon!
They slithered on past the trees without farther challenge. “Serves ya right, woodhenge!” the Elf called back, and the trees shuddered woodenly with impotent rage.
But now they faced the gloomy Evil Castle itself. A chill draft seemed to issue from it. Norton wondered whether he really wanted to do this. By the look of it, this was no pleasant resort and no pleasant deed he had to perform. He might get trapped in there, unable either to complete or to terminate his mission, so he couldn’t return to Earth. Could the Alicorn really be worth it?
But already Sning was drawing up to the somber front portal. Then the snake shrank to his former size, forcing them to dismount. Norton put down his hand, and Sning slithered up and curled around his finger again. “We have to go inside?” Norton asked with resignation.
Squeeze. “We can’t simply go around the castle and tackle the Dragon directly?”
Squeeze, squeeze.
Norton sighed. Probably there were guards in the castle who could riddle passers-by with arrows or spells. “I don’t much like this business.”
“But you are a Hero!” Excelsia protested brightly.
“Onward and Upward!”
“Suppose the Evil Sorceress turns us all to slime?”
“She can’t do that while you hold the Enchanted Sword,” the Elf said. “First she must disarm you.” That was good to know. Norton braced himself and led the way to the front portcullis.
It lifted as he approached. “Oh, it seems we’re expected,” he said. That did not encourage him.
He stepped forward-but Sning squeezed his finger twice, rapidly, and he paused. “A trap?”
Squeeze. He glanced up at the gleaming spikes of the portcullis.
“What goes up can come down, I’m sure.”
Squeeze.
“Very well. I’ll spring the trap.” He stepped up to the trough in the stone floor where the deadly iron spikes of the portcullis normally rested. Then he leaped across.
The spikes slammed down with horrible force. A cloud of rock dust billowed up. This was exactly what Norton had expected, but the sheer ferocity of it unnerved and angered him.
He turned and struck at the portcullis with his Sword, adrenaline giving him strength. Again the blade cut through as if touching only cooked noodles. In a moment he hacked out an opening, so the others could step through. Now more of his blade was clean and shining. His supposed Heroism was being recorded by the brilliance of the blade. The castle shuddered and groaned; its fangs had been cut. They entered a dark and unpleasant hall. Light flickered from a guttering torch at the far end.
“Any more traps here?” Norton asked Sning.
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
“Any immediate threat to life or limb?”
Squeeze, squeeze.
He decided to chance it. “Keep close together,” he told the others.
Excelsia and the Elf were happy to oblige. They crowded in so close to him that he worried about insufficient elbow room if he had to use the Sword. He didn’t want to cut any of his companions! On the other hand, Excelsia was an extremely attractive woman, pleasant to be this close to. Now that he had given up on Orlene, he was becoming more aware of that sort of thing-not that he had ever been unaware.
Then they heard the tromp, tromp, tromp of a giant. Damsel and Elf crowded in even closer. “Sning, are you sure... ?”
Squeeze.
The tromping came to the intersection of halls at the torch. Norton braced himself to face the giant-and saw nothing. The tromping continued toward them. No giant, just the noise of one.
No, not quite true. The boots of the giant were there. They were tromping along by themselves.
The three of them stared at the marching, empty boots. Was that footwear animated by magic or did it contain an invisible giant? It did make a difference. Mere shoes they could probably ignore, but an invisible giant was likely to be troublesome.
The boots halted immediately before them. The noise stopped. Now the boots looked exactly like discarded apparel.
Norton set himself and poked the point of his Sword toward the knee of the theoretical giant. He encountered no opposition. He sliced across the tops of both boots. Nothing. It seemed they were, after all, only boots.
He tucked the Sword in his belt and reached for a boot. He put his two hands on it and tried to pick it up. The thing would not budge; it was as if a giant did indeed have his foot in it.
Norton stood and turned back to the others. “I suppose- “
He was interrupted by a swift kick in the rear. He was boosted into the air and moved a yard down the hall. One of the boots had booted him!
He caught his balance and rubbed his bruised posterior. The Elf was trying without complete success to restrain a smirk, and even innocent Excelsia seemed amused. Norton himself didn’t happen to find it very funny, but realized that it would not profit him much to lose his temper. “Let’s just go around these.”
The Elf obliged, walking to the side. The boots came to life again, walking swiftly to get in front of the little man. The Elf stopped, not wanting to get kicked himself. Getting kicked oneself was never a laughing matter.
“Maybe if we jumped over,” Norton suggested.
“Sure,” the Elf agreed. “You first.”
Norton considered where he would get kicked if caught in the act of jumping over the boot and decided not to risk it.
Excelsia tried another approach. She walked to the left, where no boot was. But suddenly a pair of giant gloves or gauntlets arrived, hovering in mid-air about bead height. The right one closed in a fist before Excelsia’s face, then extended its massive forefinger and waggled it warningly. She emitted a frightened squeak and stepped back.
Now the boots were before the Elf, to the right, and the gloves before the Damsel, to the left. Norton strode up the center-and the right boot and left glove moved to close the gap. He, too, was blocked.
Well, at least it was clear what Sning had meant about there being no immediate threat or trap in the hall. The disembodied boots and gloves were neither-but they were effectively blocking progress. There would be no problem if the party simply retreated.
But retreat meant failure, and Norton had had enough of that. He became ornery. He drew his Sword again. “Out of my way, objects, or pay the penalty!”
Nothing moved. He stepped forward-and the right boot swung up in a kick. Norton sliced down with the Sword and cut it in half. The two fragments fell to the floor and lay there, twisting about like a dismembered reptile.
“Ooo,” Excelsia said with sympathetic horror. “You killed it!”
“I gave it fair warning,” Norton said. He stepped forward again and cut the fingers off the glove that grabbed for him. It, too, fell writhing to the floor. Excelsia twisted her own fair fingers as if afraid they would separate, but did not protest again. Even delicate Damsels had to yield to practicality on occasion.
The other boot and glove attacked. Norton got the boot, but the glove caught him in a stinging slap to the side of the head that sent him careening into a wall. The glove came at him again, forming a fist that aimed at his nose; this time he got the blade up, and the glove split itself against the Sword and plopped to the floor.
It took Norton a moment to recover his equilibrium, for that blow had had giant force! Next time he encountered something like this, he would act more ruthlessly.
“Ooo, you’re hurt!” Excelsia said, dabbing at his face with a dainty handkerchief. The dabbing did not do much good for his face, but her attention uplifted his spirit.
They proceeded on to the torch. As they reached it, Sning squeezed Norton’s finger three times: warning.
He paused. How he wished Sning could speak directly!
“Danger, maybe,” he said.
Elf and Damsel looked around. “Where?” Excelsia asked.
Norton shrugged. “Sning warned me. There’s something.”
“Listen, Mac, we can’t dawdle here forever,” the Elf said.
“You dawdled for a century in that mud-puddle,” Norton pointed out. “What’s the hurry now?”
“A critter can build up a lot of impatience in a century,” the Elf said. “I’m going ahead.” He marched past the torch, into the cross-passage.
The torch flared monstrously, sending out blinding brilliance. Norton covered his eyes as he stumbled back, but the damage was done; for the moment he couldn’t see a thing.
Gradually his sight cleared. He looked about-and found himself alone in the passage. Excelsia and the Elf were gone.
Alarmed, he looked for them-but they remained lost.
The fragments of the boots and gloves were gone, too. That gave him a notion. “Sning, am I in the same hall I was in before?”
Squeeze, squeeze.
“I blundered into another passage while blinded?”
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. “I got moved to a new passage, or got closed off from the other passage?”
Squeeze.
“By the action of the Evil Sorceress?”
Squeeze.
“Are the others in immediate danger?”
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
Damn those indefinite answers! “Their safety-does it depend on what I do?”
Squeeze.
He was improving his touch! “Can I find them?”
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
“Not till I deal personally with the Sorceress?”
Squeeze.
That was what he had suspected. The Evil Sorceress had perceived him as the leader and had separated him from the others, and now intended to test him alone. Divide and conquer. If he prevailed, his companions would be safe; if he did not...
“Then I will deal with her immediately.”
Squeeze.
Norton strode ahead, past the torch, shielding his eyes as he did so, but this one did not flare up. However, as he entered this new hall he discovered a pack of half a dozen grotesque little monsters, gnarled goblin things. They charged.
The fastest one came at him first. It was globular in shape, with tiny legs and arms, its whole torso consisting of a ferocious face dominated by a huge mouth rimmed with inward-pointing teeth. No need to question the little monster’s intent; it would chomp a bite out of any anatomy it reached.
Norton pointed his Sword at it, and the monster gaped its maw to swallow the Sword point first. The blade slid right through the back of its head-body, slitting it into halves. Defeated, the thing puffed into bad-smelling smoke. But already the next two monsters were on him. Norton slapped at one with the side of his blade, knocking it into the other. The second gaped its maw and took a bite out of the first. In a moment the two had become one- and Norton ran his Sword through that one. These things were easy enough to dispatch, but he was sure he would have been in painful trouble if either of them had gotten through to chomp him.
Soon he had polished off the remaining three, though one did take a piece out of his boot. He walked on down the hall, turned a corner-and there were five more little monsters and a hovering glow. He dispatched the monsters as they came at him, then stood before the glow.
What was this?
Squeeze.
“Safe to touch?”
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. “Safe to leave alone?”
Squeeze, squeeze. So he reached out with his left hand, holding the Sword ready in his right, and touched the glow. It flickered- and became a round bed with a lovely woman draped on it. Her hair was shining silver, her eyes silver too, and so were her long nails. She wore a harem-style outfit that showed off precisely as much flesh as she wished it to, and it seemed she was generous in both anatomy and wish.
She gazed at him from beneath long silver lashes. “Well, now, Hero,” she said huskily, inhaling.
“Uh-I take it you are the Evil Sorceress?”
“The same,” she breathed. She had remarkable breath control.
“And I found you by capturing the glow?”
“Naturally.” She shifted her décolletage. “You don’t seem so horrendous to me.”
“The legend was doubtless exaggerated.”
“But I must slay you, lest you turn me into slime?” She nodded, sending a ripple through her flesh. “However, there is no need to rush it, Hero.” She shifted position on the bed, and more flesh showed.
Sning squeezed his finger warningly. Yes, he was supposed to slay her.
“Here, I will bare the target for you,” she said, shrugging partway out of her upper clothing, so that her front was exposed. “The point right here.” She touched a spot between her amazing breasts.
But how could he? This was no toothy little monster; this was a living, breathing (!) human being, lovely beyond belief, and he was no murderer.
Squeeze!
“I can’t,” Norton said, dropping the Sword. “I knew you couldn’t do it,” the Evil Sorceress murmured as the Sword clattered on the floor. “You are an innocent male fool.” She lifted one sleek arm, her forefinger coming to point at him.
Sning uncurled convulsively and sprang through the air to land on her outstretched hand. The little snake buried his tiny fangs in the Evil Sorceress’finger.
“Oh, snot!” she exclaimed, jerking her finger aside as she felt the puncture. A silvery flash jumped from it, just missing Norton, and struck the ceiling. Immediately the ceiling turned to slime and began to drool down toward the floor.
“Oooh, you little creep!” she screamed at Sning. “I’ll bite your head off!” And she brought her hand to her mouth, where sharply pointed teeth now showed between the blood-red lips.
But Sning was already wriggling away. He dropped to the bed and thrashed toward Norton. The Evil Sorceress slammed her fist down at the little snake’s body and grabbed for him with her claws. She gouged out chunks of bedding, but Sning squiggled aside and off the bed, landing on the Sword. The Sorceress flopped on her front and grabbed for him again; the Sword glowed menacingly as her hand came near it, and she had to desist. She could not touch the Sword, so Sning was safe.
Already Sning’s poison was taking effect. Norton had understood that the little snake’s bite would not kill a human being, yet it seemed it was more potent against a truly evil person. The Evil Sorceress’finger glowed red and swelled like a sausage. But the change in the rest of her was more striking.
Her lovely facial features melted into homely ones. Her breathtaking bare bosom became baggy, her stunning cleavage a wrinkled crevice. Her sleek arms and smooth fleshed thighs became flabby limbs. Now, stripped of her enchantment, she was revealed as an ugly old crone.
Shocked, Norton watched as she died. This was almost as bad as the dissolution of the Bern had been during his visit to the space opera of the globular cluster, far away. He marveled at the transformation from beauty to ugliness; how could he ever have found that thing attractive? Another part of him was more cerebral; why, he wondered, was it so much easier to watch an ugly old crone die than a lovely young woman? The two were separated only by age. He knew that goodness and evil could not be judged by appearance, yet his mind felt more comfortable now that he knew the Evil Sorceress was in reality ugly.
The transformation continued. After turning ugly, the Evil Sorceress began to melt. She dissolved into a puddle of slime, exactly as had the Bern.
Then the castle itself melted. Chunks of it dissolved and collapsed. Norton had to dodge a segment that fell from above. The walls thinned and sagged.
Hastily he scooped up Sning and the Enchanted Sword and scrambled to escape the developing ruin. Soon he was able to spot Excelsia and the Elf in their separate chamber; they had been hard pressed by the mouth monsters, but had survived by diligent exercise of her stiletto and his active boots.
Norton forged across to join them. “Come on-we’ve got to get out of here before the whole thing falls on us!”
“About time you showed up!” the Elf grumped. They scrambled out, dodging the slimy chunks. As they made it to the greensward at the rear patio, the entire remainder of the castle fell in with a grotesque sucking sound.
“Ugh!” Excelsia exclaimed expressively. “Good thing you slew the Evil Sorceress,” the Elf said. “I knew we were going to get slimed if she won.”
“I didn’t slay her, actually,” Norton confessed. “I lacked the nerve. Sning did it.” The Damsel cocked her head at him. “You are no Hero?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“But he’s an honest man,” the Elf said. “The Enchanted Sword goes for that kind, too, in a pinch.” Unpersuaded, Excelsia turned away. Norton stood diminished in her eyes. They continued into the estate. The land here was lovely, with pleasant little paths winding along among fruit trees. “Oh, let’s pause for refreshment!” Excelsia said, reaching for a bright red apple. Squeeze, SQUEEZE! Norton jumped across and dashed the apple from her hand. “Poison!” he cried. Indeed, the moment the apple touched ground, it smoldered as if being eaten from inside by some horrible acid, then burst into flame. Excelsia stared at it, wide-eyed. “Yes, of course,” she agreed faintly. “Everything belonging to the Evil Sorceress would be poison to ordinary folk. So silly of me to forget.”
“What about the Alicorn?” Norton asked. “Oh, he does not belong to her,” she said quickly. “He is her captive, not her creature.” That seemed to make sense. They walked on through the poisonous orchard. Soon the terrain opened out into a circular valley whose center was a mound. On the mound was a palisade-an enclosure surrounded by a tight fence of sharpened stakes that hid whatever was inside. But Excelsia knew. “Therein-the Alicorn!” she breathed rapturously. There was, however, a more immediate concern. From the far side of the mound galloped a horrendous red Dragon. This was one of the centipede variety; it had fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs and a long spiked tail, while black smoke snorted from its mouth. Norton stepped forward. “This is my job,” he said. It wasn’t that he relished the prospect of doing battle with the Dragon; it was that he knew it was better to face the thing than to be run down from behind. Gawain had taught him that. “Never let a dragon see your rear,” the ghost had cautioned. “It will either toast it or take a bite out of it, or both.” Also, Norton was sure Excelsia would be easy and delectable prey for the Dragon, and he couldn’t permit her to be hurt. If he got killed here, he would be wafted back to Earth, unharmed-he had the word of the Father of Lies on that. But the Damsel had no such assurance. The word of the Father of Lies. There was something about that notion that bothered him. The Dragon swerved to meet him head-on. It was therefore a stupid creature; the smart ones were more careful, taking time to scout and sniff, for scarce was the man who braved such a monster without the benefit of some potent enchantment. All the background Gawain had drilled into him was coming to the fore now, and for the first time he really appreciated it. So much of dragon fighting was tactics! One had to grasp the nature of the beast and exploit its weaknesses; a man was smarter than a reptile, usually, and that could count. The Dragon was indeed large, as the Damsel had warned him. Its mass was elephantine. It blew out a tongue of orange flame-and Norton jumped aside. Gawain had prepared him for this, too; fire-breathers always blasted first, hoping to toast their prey conveniently before coming within range of the prey’s defenses. This was virtually instinctive; they were not smart enough to reason it out. But they had to inhale deeply first-and so Norton had watched for the expansion of the torso and had moved the moment the contraction occurred. It was as if he had been in this business all his life, thanks to the ghost. An instant after the fireshot, the Dragon was beside him, snapping at the spot where Norton had stood. Naturally Norton had dodged aside again, avoiding the teeth. It was amazing how easy it was. Of course, he had the benefit of much smaller mass, so could move much less predictably than the behemoth could. He knew what to do now; he rammed the point of the Sword into the monster’s passing ear. This was intended to penetrate to the creature’s token brain and kill it.
Unfortunately, Norton’s reflexes weren’t as good as his knowledge. He failed to allow sufficiently for the Dragon’s velocity, and the Sword struck behind the ear and sliced away several scales and severed a neck muscle or two. Blood gouted as the Sword jerked clear of the wound.
Pain-maddened, the Dragon braked all fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs and screeched to a halt. Norton knew he was in for it; a careless man seldom got a chance for a second stroke. The Dragon whirled, becoming unconscionably agile for its mass, and brought its head about to snap at Norton’s tasty rear.
Norton whirled himself, slicing desperately at the Dragon’s nose. He scored, but not perfectly; the blade lopped off the tip. But that didn’t stop the creature, which thrust the bloody snout at him and knocked him down.
On his back, Norton made one more attempt. He whipped the Sword up to stab at the monster’s eye. This time his aim was good, for the Dragon was almost stationary. The point sank into the huge orb and found the tiny brain behind. One ordinary blade could not have done it, for the orb was surrounded by bony armor, but this one’s enchantment sliced through the bone.
The Dragon went crazy. Its brain wasn’t much, but it did need the thing to work its jaws and similar sundry tasks. It yanked its head up, blood jetting from the eye socket and splattering Norton. The great body threshed. Norton rolled out of the way. The creature flopped over onto its back and lay there, with all fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs twitching in the air. The Dragon was in its death throes-but its blind reflexes could still kill Norton.
“Oh, you’re so brave, after all!” Excelsia exclaimed, clapping her hands. She approached Norton, evidently thinking to embrace him; then she saw the gore on him and desisted, wrinkling her pert nose distastefully. “Couldn’t you have done it a little more neatly?” she asked plaintively.
Norton brushed himself off as well as he could and slid the blade of the Sword along the greensward to clean it. Now it shone more brightly than ever, and he wasn’t sure it was only the cleaning that accounted for this. It certainly was an excellent weapon.
“Well, one hurdle to go,” the Elf said briskly. “Let’s get on with it.”
Norton, battered, tired, and gunked with gore, would have preferred a rest break. Heroism wasn’t an ideal life! The final challenge-the steed no one could tame! He hoped the Damsel wasn’t headed for disappointment. Women liked horses-but a unicorn was no ordinary horse, and the Alicorn was no ordinary unicorn. This creature could be more dangerous than the Dragon.
They marched up the mound to the palisade. There was no gate in it; the wall of stakes formed a tight enclosure. Inside was grim silence.
“Sirrah, use your blade to open a gate,” Excelsia told Norton. “I shall not be barred from my steed!”
Norton put his hand on the hilt of the Sword, then hesitated. “A gate that let us in would also let the Alicorn out,” he said. “Maybe we should peek over the top first.”
“That’s using your noggin,” the Elf agreed. “In fact, let’s poke up a hat.”
“A hat?” Excelsia asked, her fair brow furrowing. The Elf removed his hat from his head. His skull was almost bald, now that it showed. “Balance it on the end of the Sword.” Norton extended the Sword, and the Elf set the hat on the tip.
Norton lifted the hat slowly up beside the palisade, while Excelsia tapped her dainty foot impatiently, “This be sheerest nonsense, sirrah! What think ye a hat can see?”
The palisade points were about eight feet above the ground. Norton elevated the hat beyond that point-and abruptly there was a ferocious squeal, and a spear thrust through the hat and withdrew.
Spear? No, that was the horn of the Alicorn! Norton brought down the hat, lifted it from the Sword, and gravely handed it back to the Elf. The Elf held it before his little face and sighted through the twin holes in it at the Damsel. No one spoke.
That was one unfriendly equine creature in there! They retreated a reasonable distance and considered. “Probably the Evil Sorceress abused him,” Norton suggested. “That made the Alicorn mean.”
“Nay, he be merely untame,” Excelsia said, but her voice lacked conviction. That strike had been too swift and sure, too vicious, after such complete silence. The Alicorn had to have been listening to them, pacing them, biding his time, concealing his awareness until he had the chance to strike. Had he been able to understand their dialogue, he would have known the hat trick was coming, but he was only a cunning animal. Cunning and savage. “That animal will kill ye, lassie,” the Elf warned her. “Oh, no, unicorns never harm my kind,” she insisted. “This be no ordinary unicorn,” he reminded her.
The Damsel acknowledged this logic by bursting into maidenly tears. “Oh, woe!” she cried. “How may I tame the untamable?”
Norton exchanged a glance with the Elf. Obviously they had to come up with something. “Isn’t there supposed to be a magic Word?” Norton asked.
Excelsia brightened instantly. “The Word! We must find the Word!”
The Elf frowned. “If there be a Word, why did not the Evil Sorceress use it to tame the beast?”
“She didn’t know it!” Excelsia said.
“Neither do we.”
“But we shall find it!”
Norton sighed to himself. The Evil Sorceress had had years to search out the Word and had evidently failed. How could they succeed in an hour?
But the Damsel was threatening to cloud up again. “I guess we’ll just have to guess at it,” he said. “We can stand outside the enclosure and shout words until we come to the right one.”
“Why didn’t the Evil Sorceress do that?” the Elf asked. “She didn’t think of it!” Excelsia said eagerly. Again Norton was doubtful. The Evil Sorceress had struck him as smart and ruthless. She had surely wanted to ride the Alicorn, otherwise she would not have held him captive. Her power would have been enhanced if she could have used that magical steed. Yet she had failed.
Was there really a magic Word? Or was that only a myth?
He looked at Excelsia and knew he couldn’t tell her there was no Word. So they would have to try it.
They stood in a line and called words at random. “Valor!” the Elf cried bravely. “Beauty!” Excelsia bespoke prettily. “Uncertainty...” Norton muttered doubtfully.
The other two glanced sharply at him, and he was abashed.
They tried another round. “Courage!” the Elf cried. “Modesty,” Excelsia murmured. “Time,” Norton said.
Again the other two glanced askance at him. “Well,” he said awkwardly, “the Word could be anything. Maybe the Sorceress only tried conventional words. How do we know? Maybe‘ time’was it.”
Indeed, the silence continued inside the enclosure. “We are at risk of taming him without knowing it,” the Elf said. “We must test it.”
“We know how,” Norton said. He borrowed the Elf’s hat again and poked it up above the palisade.
Nothing happened. “Can it be?” Excelsia asked, her eyes glowing and her bosom heaving with hope.
Norton wasn’t sure. “Let’s try something else.” He cast about, and finally removed his shirt and draped it on the blade of the Sword. Then he poked that up, wiggling it to make it seem lifelike.
The horn speared it.
“That infernal creature tried to trick us!” the Elf said indignantly. “He pretended to be tame and then struck.”
“And he was too canny to fall for the same lure twice,” Norton agreed. “We have a real problem here.”
Even the Damsel was sobered by this. “We must get closer to him,” she decided. “So we can see him react to our words.”
It was a good suggestion, but impractical. They could not see the Alicorn without entering this enclosure, and that would be suicidal before they discovered the Word.
“Why does not the beast break down the wall?” the Elf asked irritably. “He plainly has the means.”
Excellent question! If the Alicorn could spear a target above the palisade, he could surely spear the palisade itself.
But Excelsia had the answer. “He be tethered, of course. So he can’t fly out.”
“Then why have an enclosure at all?” the Elf asked. He seemed to have a considerable practical streak. Excelsia cocked her head and shrugged. But this time Norton had the answer. “To keep the Dragon out. The Evil Sorceress wouldn’t have wanted those two creatures fighting. With the Alicorn tethered, he would be at a disadvantage against the Dragon and might get eaten. That must be why he doesn’t punch holes in the fence or kick it down. He doesn’t want the fires of the Dragon to come in. Not while he can’t escape. And the Dragon was too stupid to realize he could bash or burn down the palisade.”
The Elf nodded. “Then we can take down the wall.” No sooner realized than done. Norton hacked out a section and stood clear as it fell outward with a resounding crash. Now at last they had a view of the interior.
The Alicorn stood there-and a magnificent creature he was. He stood about seventeen hands at the shoulder, with two enormous white wings rising from that shoulder region and a gleaming black horn at his forehead. The rest of him was a burnished red, not the shade of blood but the hue of fire. He fairly gleamed, and his eyes stared back at them with a disconcerting awareness. Dumb animal? Unlikely!
He was indeed tethered. A silver chain was locked to his right hind leg and anchored to a silver stake. Silver, of course, was resistant to magic; that was why the Alicorn could not break it. The Evil Sorceress had stooped to mundane means to pen him.
“Oh, you Noble Creature!” Excelsia exclaimed, walking toward the Alicorn with arms outstretched. “All my young, pretty, innocent, and genteel life I have longed for the like of you!”
“Don’t do that!” Norton cried, suddenly realizing that the Damsel was mesmerized by the beauty of the beast. But she was already stepping within range.
The Alicorn never hesitated. He lowered his horn and leaped to the limit of his tether. The terrible horn stabbed right through the Damsel’s body and withdrew so rapidly that the Alicorn seemed hardly to have moved. But now there was blood on the horn, and Excelsia collapsed, her blood pouring out. She had been speared neatly through her maidenly heart.
Norton was frozen for an instant in shock. Then he drew his Sword and charged the Alicorn.
“Don’t do that!” the Elf cried, exactly as Norton had. But he, too, was too late. Norton stepped within range.
The Alicorn charged, the deadly horn leveling. The Sword sliced down. The blade severed the horn at its midpoint.
Blood gouted from the stump of the horn. The creature stiffened, then collapsed beside the woman, mixing his blood with hers.
“You fool!” the Elf cried. “Now ye have two deaths for one-and what be gained?”
Norton gazed at the bodies. For a moment he seemed to see Orlene, collapsed at her piano. What had he gained, indeed! He had been as much a fool as Excelsia had been and had only magnified the damage by his thoughtless violence. This gallant quest of his-he had converted it to disaster. Some fantasy hero he was!
Of course, he realized that he was not a fantasy hero. He was Chronos, Master of Time, with a job to do back on Earth. Why had he allowed the Devil to distract him like this? He should never have deluded himself about his position.
Chronos? Of course-there was the answer! He brought out the Hourglass and turned the sand red. He reversed time for the immediate region and willed the sand to flow up. That left himself out of the change.
The Alicorn trembled, then righted himself, collapsing to his feet. Blood gouted back into his horn. The severed end of the horn flew back into place. A moment later, the Damsel was unpunctured, and walked blithely backward out of the compound. Then the palisade became unbacked. Since Norton had excluded himself from this reversal, he was both standing apart and participating, backward. So he moved to rejoin his prior self, merging, then stilled the sand and returned to normal time. All was well again.
“Never have I seen the like!” the Elf exclaimed. “You are a Sorcerer!”
Oops-he had forgotten to include the Elfin the reversal. The little man had seen it all and remembered it. Well, it wasn’t as if there was supposed to be any secret. “I’m not a sorcerer; I’m Chronos.”
“What are you talking about?” Excelsia demanded.
“It’s complicated to explain,” Norton said.
“Then don’t bother. Go ahead and hack down the wall.”
The Elf pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. “Damsel, ye know not what ye ask.”
“I want to see that divine steed!” she insisted.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Norton said.
“But we know he’s tethered!”
“Better explain. Wizard,” the Elf said.
“Wizard?” Excelsia demanded. “Riddles again, belike?”
“I am afraid,” Norton said carefully, “that if I open this wall and let you see the Alicorn, you will be so smitten by him that you will walk right into his horn and perish.” She opened her mouth for an angry retort, but stalled out before speaking. Evidently this was the type of thing she knew she was prone to do.
“Still, we do need to see this creature,” the Elf said, his practical streak taking hold again, “so we can verify the Word. Maybe if we tie her up- “
“What?” Excelsia screeched undaintily. “Perhaps if she merely promises not to go near the Alicorn until we’re sure it’s safe,” Norton suggested diplomatically.
Excelsia pouted. “Oh, all right!”
The Elf shook his head bemusedly. “If only ye knew, Damsel!”
“Never mind,” Norton said quickly. “It never happened.”
“What never happened?” she demanded.
“I’ll bring down the fence,” Norton said. “Remember, Excelsia, you promised- “
“Tis a mess of foolishness o’er naught,” she grumped.
Nevertheless, he chopped much more carefully at the wall than he had before, so as to open a smaller hole and be on guard against her passage.
The Alicorn stood as before. To the stallion, this was before; no awareness of his prior fate remained in his memory. The double disaster had been undone. The beast was still magnificent-but now Norton and the Elf had firsthand evidence as to why the Evil Sorceress had not approached him. Without the Word, approach was death.
What was that Word? They had to come up with it- and Norton was sure that no random search would do it. If there was a Word, it had to be well hidden.
Excelsia peeked through the hole and saw the Alicorn. “Ooooo!” she exclaimed melodiously, starting forward.
Norton moved to intercept her, and she stopped. “I was not going in there,” she said somewhat insincerely. “He’s so beautiful. All my young, pretty, innocent life- “
“Let’s try words again,” the Elf suggested. “Do we have any better way?”
“Do we?” Norton echoed. He was not pleased with himself. He had met the Damsel, acquired the Enchanted Sword, slain the Evil Sorceress-approximately-and the Dragon, and now was balked by what should have been the simplest aspect of this adventure: speaking a Word to an animal.
Squeeze.
Could it be? “Sning-you say there is?”
Squeeze.
“You know it?”
Squeeze.
“A way we can learn the Word quickly?”
Squeeze.
“Well, let’s get to it!” He looked up at the other two. “Sning can help us find the Word. All I have to do is find the right questions to ask him.”
“That’s one mighty useful snake,” the Elf remarked.
“Even if he weren’t, I would value him,” Norton said. “He was given to me by one I- “
Squeeze! SQUEEZE! SQUEEZE! Norton froze. He trusted Sning’s warning-but what was its nature? Had he been about to say something wrong?
Squeeze.
Oh, yes-he kept forgetting that he did not have to speak his questions aloud. You object to my speaking of your value to me? he thought.
Squeeze, squeeze.
Is there some other threat?
Squeeze.
Some new monster approaching?
Squeeze, squeeze.
Norton pondered. The Elf and the Damsel watched him, mutually perplexed. They judged him to be an odd one. Some error in what I’m saying?
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
This was difficult! Something all right to think, but not to speak?
Sning hesitated, then gave one squeeze. What could that be? Norton glanced at the Elf. “I was about to say something wrong, so Sning warned me. But I haven’t figured out what- “
“The Word,” the Elf said wisely.
“The Word!” Norton and Excelsia repeated together, and Sning squeezed affirmatively.
“But why should it be wrong to-?”
“Ah, we have all been fools!” the Elf cried. “Know ye not that the power of a Word adheres to him who speaks it? If you had spoken it- “
Now Norton understood. “Then the Alicorn would be tamed by me- “
“And by no one else,” the Elf agreed. “I knew, but I forgot. A century of mud on my brain may have dulled it.‘ Tis folly for us all to be crying out words; only the lass must speak that one to the steed. She be the one who wants him.”
“I had somehow thought the Alicorn would be completely tamed,” Norton said. “So anyone could approach him.”
The Elf spat to the side. “Who would want a completely tame steed? That were as tasteless as a completely tame woman! He must be tame only for his master. Mistress.”
Norton nodded. A steed no one could steal, who would be as wild to strangers as he was now, unless cautioned by the one he respected. That did make sense. Perhaps the Alicorn was tame now for a former master, who had died or gotten lost. “If I discover the Word and whisper it to Excelsia, and then she speaks it aloud to the Alicorn-?”
Squeeze.
Now he had it straight. But one thing still bothered him. “If Sning knows the Word, the Evil Sorceress must have known it, too. I mean, she was a Sorceress and she had magical sources of information. Yet she never used the Word. She must have had reason.”
Excelsia had stood silently all the while, adoring the Alicorn through the hole in the fence. Now she looked at Norton. “She surely would have used it if she could!”
“True, Sning?”
Squeeze.
“She knew it and could not say it?”
Squeeze.
“There’s no actual danger in using the Word-apart from making sure the right person uses it?”
Squeeze.
“And once that person uses it, it can’t be used again, so no one else can take away the Alicorn’s loyalty?”
Squeeze.
Until, perhaps, that person died, leaving the Alicorn free again. It was a firm commitment.
Squeeze.
Norton shook his head. “The Evil Sorceress certainly would have wanted to use it. Was she physically incapable of pronouncing it?”
Squeeze, squeeze.
“Emotionally incapable?”
Squeeze.
“Ah!” Excelsia exclaimed, clapping her hands. “I can guess what Word she could not say! The one that countered her nature!”
“She was a creature of hate,” the Elf agreed. Norton thought back to the moment of Sning’s first warning on this subject. He had been commenting about Sning, who had been given to him by Orlene, the one he-
Excelsia marched up to the Alicorn. The beast braced, ready for his devastating attack. “Love!” she cried. The Alicorn shuddered. Then he furled his wings and bowed his head until the terrible horn touched the battered earth.
“It could be a ruse!” Norton warned.
Squeeze, squeeze.
Excelsia approached the stallion and put her small fair hand on his muscular shoulder near where one of his wings sprouted. “Love,” she repeated softly. He lifted his head and brought his nose around to nuzzle her neck. He had indeed been tamed.
She stooped to untie the knotted silver chain from his hind leg. Her human hands could do what neither his hooves nor his horn could. In a moment he was free- but he did not move. He waited for her directive.
The Elf walked toward them. Instantly the Alicorn was alert. His wings unfurled and his horn took a bead on the intruder. A small puff of fire showed at his nostrils.
“It’s all right, Alicorn,” Excelsia said. “These are my friends.”
The creature relaxed. If she said it was all right, it was all right, for her word was his law. But woe betide the one she did not speak for!
Excelsia jumped up on the steed’s back, managing to achieve a sidesaddle position though there was no saddle. Norton knew how difficult it could be to mount a standing horse without the aid of a stirrup. Perhaps she had a little magic of her own-the magic of Damsel with Equine.
“Oh, I’m so happy!” Excelsia cried, waving to Norton and the Elf. “Onward and upward, Alicorn!”
The Alicorn spread his great white wings, pumped them, and launched himself into the air. There was hardly any downdraft; most of his impetus was magic. In moments Damsel and stallion were high aloft.
“Well, the job’s done, the adventure complete,” the Elf remarked. He held out his hand. “You won’t be needing the Enchanted Sword any more.”
Norton stared at the diminishing speck in the sky. Somehow he had expected more thanks for his effort than this. “I suppose not.” He handed the Sword over.
The Elf took it by mid-blade and held it up over his head, horizontally. A mud-puddle began to form around his feet. Slowly he sank into it.
“But I thought you didn’t like mud!” Norton protested.
“I don’t,” the Elf agreed, sinking further. “But that’s fantasy for you. The Damsel gets to fly, while the Elf gets stuck in the mud.”
Something caught the comer of Norton’s eye. He looked around. The slain Dragon was reviving!
“Hey, wait, Elf! I have further use for that Sword!”
The Elf’s descent into the widening puddle paused. “What for? You’re finished with the Quest.”
“The Dragon! He’s not quite dead!”
“Of course he’s not quite dead! He’s immortal! He dies only for an hour, then he resumes his post. Naturally he’ll be somewhat irritated by the loss of the Alicorn he guarded-but that’s a new Quest.”
“But that means I need a weapon!”
“Nah. You won’t be staying long. Otherwise you’d be worrying about when the Evil Sorceress revives. It takes her two hours,‘ cause she’s worse; but when she does, hoo man!”
Norton looked wildly at the fallen castle. Sure enough, it was beginning to re-form from the mound of slime. “None of this destruction was permanent? It’s all coming back?”
There was no response. He looked-and the Elf was gone. Only his hat and the Enchanted Sword remained above the mud, and in a moment they, too, sank out of sight.
Norton felt very much alone. Now he was without weapon or companions-and the Dragon was climbing to its fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs, larger than ever and quite annoyed. Norton would have to cross the Dragon’s path to escape this region.
Squeeze.
Suddenly he felt better. “Sning! I’ve still got you!” Then he drifted from the planet and zoomed back toward his own realm. This visit was over-none too soon.