“Darkhorse is other I. It… he has a new name.”
“A name?”
What sort of mind did this creature have, Gerrod wondered, that it could read his thoughts well enough to learn his speech but not understand various terms and ideas? Master Zeree had described a similar situation with Dark-horse, but not how irritating it could be. There were already too many emotions vying for mastery over the warlock without one more addition.
“What… is… a… name?” With each word, the hole grew larger. Gerrod now found himself truly having to worry that he would be devoured, swallowed, or whatever the case might be if the creature continued its growth.
“A name is what you call something. I am Gerrod. If you talk to me, you might mention my name so that I will know that you are speaking to me.”
“Gerrod, you are amusing, Gerrod. Gerrod, what else do you know, Gerrod? Gerrod, come and Gerrod entertain me further, Gerrod!”
“That’s not what I meant.” He wondered if it mattered that his visage was still covered by his hood. Would his annoyance and fear register to this bizarre horror?
The hole chose that moment to swell further. Gerrod tried to wave himself away.
“Why do you do that? Why do you wiggle your appendages so?”
“You… your body would swallow me! If you get any closer, I’ll die-” It could hardly understand that term. Gerrod hurriedly sought another. “I’ll be no more. I won’t be able to entertain you again!”
The blot paused, but its tone did not encourage the young Tezerenee. “You… fear… me.”
He could not deny it. “I do.”
“I like its taste.” The dweller from the Void seemed to consider things. At the very least, it was both still and silent for several breaths. “You are more entertaining than the other things I have met!”
“Others?”
“I absorbed them! It was fun, but this is more fun! I think I shall play with you!”
“Play?” Try as he might, Gerrod could not keep the quiver from his voice. Could it be that the spell, unable to fix upon one creature, had brought him instead to one akin to what he sought? How else to explain his meeting this brother of Darkhorse’s so soon after his debacle?
Was it that soon? Had not Dru Zeree said that time was not a consideration in the Void? How long had he actually been there?
I will not allow panic to rule me! he thought, teeth gritted. I have to get away from this thing before it loses interest in me and decides to… to… The warlock found he could not bring himself to complete his thought.
“Do something else for me!” the hole demanded.
What did he know about Darkhorse that he could use to divert the creature’s attention? “Can you make yourself take up less area?” He indicated with his hands what he meant. “Can you make yourself this big, for instance?”
The blot was suddenly the very size he had indicated. Gerrod blinked in astonishment at the speed with which the dweller reacted to his suggestion. He had known that the shadow steed was swift to react to things; Zeree had made that clear. What had not been clear was how swift those reactions were. He would have to be careful about what he did. Gerrod could not allow the monstrosity to know what was happening.
“Now what?” bellowed the blot, its voice still reverberating with harsh consistency in the human’s ears.
Now what? indeed! Have it become a horse like its brother? No, that would likely rely on the dweller’s searching through the warlock’s thoughts for an image of a horse. Gerrod had no desire to allow this entity to go rooting around his mind. It might not leave him the same.
A shock tore through his system, so abrupt that Gerrod had no time to brace himself for it. He screamed loud and full and could not say when he at last was able to stop.
“Entertain me, I said.” The cold tone left no doubt as to where the agony had originated.
“You-”
“The other little things like yourself, they were entertaining for a time! I found they did interesting things when I touched them like that! I learned much from them! I learn much from you! I even have a name now!” It giggled, a disquieting sound. “I fooled you I did! A good game, wasn’t it? Here you explain to me what a name is and I had one all the time!”
Mad… inhuman, utter madness! It babbles like an idiot, but an idiot who could easily erase my existence whenever it chooses, the Tezerenee thought, his panic, despite his efforts, gaining too great a foothold. How could he divert the insane creature long enough to find a way out of this emptiness? There had to be something in what Dru Zeree had told him about Darkhorse!
“You were very clever,” he finally told the hole. “You had me tricked completely. You were almost as clever as Dark-the other I you mentioned. He was very, very clever.”
The blot stirred, swelling in size again. Gerrod wondered if he had gone too far. A notion had formed, but Gerrod was not certain whether it had any merit yet. Much of his success would lie in the dweller’s arrogant yet childlike ignorance.
“I formed other I! Was that not most clever of all? How could other I, this Darkhorse creature, be more clever?”
The warlock’s ears pounded. He clapped his hands over them and shouted back, “There are many ways to be clever! Some are more wondrous than others! Let me tell you the story!”
As if understanding his pain, the eternal’s voice grew soft, almost subdued in tone. More and more, Gerrod was coming to respect Darkhorse for what he had become. This horror, on the other hand… “What is a ‘story’?”
Gerrod hesitated. “Are you playing with me again? If you are, I won’t bother telling you what a story is!”
“I am not playing with you! What is a story? Is it fun? I want fun! I understand fun!”
“It can be very fun.” He would have liked to debate its concept of fun, but, being Vraad, Gerrod knew that his own folk, when ruling Nimth, had often acted just as sadistic, just as mad, while “enjoying” themselves. “A story is a… Suppose I told you about other I’s clever trick and how I know of it. That would be a story of sorts.” It would also be the opening he needed. There was something in Master Zeree’s tale that could help him… and he had nearly let it pass!
“Your other voice hides! Why?”
He stiffened. The creature had almost caught his thoughts, his “other voice.” “It has to hide before I can tell you a story. That… that is the way I am!”
The blot shrank again, evidently satisfied with the explanation. Gerrod felt as if he teetered on the edge of the proverbial precipice; his adversary was an unpredictable quantity. Any move, any wrong word, could spell the warlock’s end.
“Do you want to hear my story?”
“It might prove amusing! I like to be amused, you know! How does a story begin?”
Gerrod breathed a sigh of relief. “Sometimes they begin with words like ‘Once there was…’ or ‘Long ago… ‘. This one begins ‘There was a man named Dru Zeree… ‘.”
He went into the story, editing, as best he could under the circumstances, any mention of how the outsider Zeree had found himself here or how the sorcerer and his newfound companion had left this place. While he told the tale, Gerrod tried to mull over his own manner of escape. Vraad sorcery had not worked for Zeree. Might-he hesitated to even consider it-might the magic of the founders’ world work here? He was capable of it, Gerrod knew that much, but to finally give in to it…
His unnerving companion remained quiet throughout the story. The hooded Vraad put aside his other worries and concentrated again on the creature, for the tale was nearly complete. It was being entertained, that much was obvious. Would it follow through on his suggestion? Did it suspect what he had in mind and was simply playing with him?
“… and when the other I burst forth, he was a new creature, a wonderful, huge beast who called himself Darkhorse!” What would his father think of him, floating in limbo telling stories in order to preserve his life?
“I have a name! Do you want to know what it is?” The blot sounded so much like an anxious child that Gerrod almost laughed despite the danger to him.
“What is it?”
