glittered. I saw no welcome in them.
Oona exchanged a few words with the figure. Cautiously he came out of the tower and glided towards us. It was hard to tell from the long, stony face if we were recognized or not. The Off-Moo spoke slowly, in Greek:
'Gaynor did this to us. He feared we would try to stop him in his ambitions. And he feared rightly. But he has made exceptional alliances with certain of the Lords of the Higher Worlds and so gained the knowledge of how to defeat us and with what.'
'How many of you has he killed?' Elric spoke with the direct bluntness of a professional soldier.
'That remains to be seen, sir. I am Scholar Crina. I was not here when Gaynor attacked. When I returned I found our city much as you find it now. My departing colleagues were able to inform me that the weight of barbarians overwhelmed them. But before that something else occurred.'
'Where are the barbarians now?' I asked. I was shivering, still soaked through.
'Do you know?'
'They marched away, ' was all he would say.
'Where's this Gaynor?' Elric asked brusquely. 'Presumably his will is what it always was?'
'He has done what he needed to do here.'
'And what was that?'
'He has stolen our Great Staff and now marches against the Grey Fees.'
'Impossible, ' said Oona. 'The staff is useless in his blood-soaked hands. It could as easily destroy him as aid him. No one would take such a risk. Nobody would be so foolish as to chance such destruction.'
'No one except Gaynor, ' said Elric.
'What does he expect to gain from invading the Grey Fees?' I asked.
Scholar Crina answered that question. 'Enormous power. Power over the forces of creation themselves. This was what he first offered us, if we would help him. Naturally we refused him.'
'The gods would never allow it.'
Scholar Crina seemed amused. 'No sane being would. But there is a theory that the Lords of the Higher Worlds themselves are no longer entirely sane, as disturbing changes take place throughout the multiverse. A conjunction comes. All the realms will realign within the great field of Time. New destinies will be decided. New realities. Yours is not the only story. There are others. Other lives. Other dreams. All lead to the same great supernatural moment. Nothing is as certain as it was. Even loyalties to Law and Chaos are no longer permanent. Look at Gaynor. He employs both Law and Chaos in his attempt to make himself the ruler of worlds. Once such things were impossible for mortals. But now, it seems, even mortal power increases and becomes less stable.'
'Gaynor does not mean to destroy himself, ' said Oona. 'He no doubt believes he is invulnerable now that he bears your Great Staff.'
'He claims to be king of the world. And it is true that his possession of our Great Staff gives him the confidence to march upon the Grey Fees. But to what end? What can he hope to achieve, save complete destruction of the multiverse?'
'He reminds me of a certain dictator in my own country, ' I said mildly. 'His madness, his poor grasp on reality seems to be what drives him. His addiction to power is so great, he will destroy whole realms in order to satisfy his craving.'
Scholar Crina lowered his eyes. 'He has no ordinary sense of self-interest. Those are the most dangerous people of all to gain control of a civilization.'
'Echoes, ' said Oona thoughtfully to herself. 'On how many planes, do you think, is a version of this story being played out? We believe we have volition, but we can do little to change the consequences or the direction of our actions, because those consequences and actions are taking place, with minuscule differences expanding to vast differences, on countless levels of the multiverse.'
Elric showed no interest in her philosophy. 'If Gaynor can be stopped on this plane, ' he said, 'then presumably his defeat will be echoed, as his victories are?'
She smiled at him. 'Well, Father, if anyone was best fitted to change his own destiny, then it is you.'
Neither Elric nor I knew exactly what she meant, but I shared his sense of determination.
'Gaynor's power was too great for us, ' said Scholar Crina.
'But your Staff, ' said Oona. 'How could he have taken that from you?'
'The Staff itself appears to have allowed it, ' said Scholar Crina simply. 'We have always known it had volition. That is how it came to us.'
They were referring to the malleable artifact-bowl, child, staff-I had witnessed the Off-Moo manipulating in that first ceremony. Or had they been the manipulators? Were they perhaps the manipulated? I remembered how it had changed shape. At whose volition?
'Does it always take the form of a staff?' I asked him. I recalled all the shapes it had made.
'We know it as the Runestaff, ' he said. 'But it takes several forms. It is a staff and a cup and a stone and is one of the great regulators of our realities.'
'Is that what my people know as the Grail?' I remembered von Eschenbach and some of our own family legends. 'Were you its guardians?'
'In this realm, ' he said. 'And in this realm we have failed.'
'You mean various versions of the Grail inhabit other realms?'
Scholar Crina was regretful. 'Only one Great Staff exists, ' he said. 'It represents the Balance itself. Some say it is the Balance. Its influence extends far beyond any realm in which it is kept.'
'My family was once said to guard the Grail, ' I told him. 'But it was removed from our keeping. Presumably we also failed in our trust.'
'The Runestaff has the power to change form and to move on its own volition, ' Scholar Crina told me. 'Some say it can take the shape of a child. Why should it not, since it can presumably assume any form it likes? In this way it preserves and defends itself. And thus preserves those who respect and defend it. It is not always obvious what form it has taken.'
'In what form does Gaynor possess it?' Oona wanted to know.
'The form of a cup, ' he said. 'Of a fine drinking vessel. With that and the two swords he now carries, he has more power to change the destiny of worlds than any other mortal before him. And because the gods themselves hardly understand what is happening, he could succeed. For it is well known that a mortal will eventually bring about the destruction of the gods.'
I paid little attention to this last. It had the smack of legend and superstition about it, yet at the same time a frisson of recognition went through my body. I tried to recall where I had heard a similar story, one which was couched in the mythology of my own age and people, the story of the Holy Grail and its ability to cure the world's pain. That legend also had a mortal changing the destiny of his world. I checked myself. I felt as if I was receiving an overdose of Wagner. My own tastes were for the clearer waters of Mozart or Liszt, whose appeal was as much to the intellect as to the emotions. Was that what I recognized? Had I somehow found myself in a very complicated Wagnerian opera? I shuddered at the thought. Yet even the momentous events of the Ring Cycle were as nothing compared to what I had already witnessed.
I turned to Oona. 'You said something of my particular relationship with the Grail. What did you mean?'
'Not everyone is privileged to serve it, ' she said. Her manner was grim. She did not seem optimistic. I think she had not expected Gaynor to get this far.
A strange stink filled the air. A mixture of a thousand different odors, none of them pleasant. The smell of evil.
I still could not see how Gaynor had so thoroughly defeated the Off-Moo and said as much to the scholar.
'You do not yet know, ' he said, 'if Gaynor has defeated us. The game, after all, is not over.'
I kept my own counsel, but as far as I could see this aspect of the game at least was well and truly won.
Elric wanted to know where Gaynor was, whether it was possible to catch up with him on foot.
'He moves towards the Grey Fees with his army. He believes he can take the power of the multiverse for himself. It is a delusion. But his delusion will destroy us all, unless someone challenges him.' Scholar Crina seemed to glance inquiringly at me.
But it was Prince Elric who answered. 'I have been insulted and humiliated by that creature. I have been
