said quite that. Anyway, arguments later – cut free our fellow worshipper.'And she pointed at purple-skinned Oronoko.
'As you wish, Zanya,' said Drake, who did not think this strictly necessary.
Oronoko, cut free, began to massage his wrists, but added nothing to their conversation since he still spoke no Galish.'Oh, look!' said Zanya. 'Two more striders!'
She pointed to a gate set in the wall of the arena, from which another two lizard-monsters were venturing.
'See that steel arch but thirty paces away?' said Drake. 'It's aDoor to Elsewhere. Run for it!'
They ran toward the Door. But halted abruptly as a dozen savages burst out of it. The savages milled around screaming in a battle-frenzy. The striders came on with huge, loping strides. Running. Animated nightmares.'We're doomed!' cried Zanya.
Then the savages scattered away from the Door. Something had come through that Door. Something big. Twice as tall as a man. As broad in the shoulders as a man's outstretched arms. It carried a great metal rod in its hands.'Watch out!' screamed Zanya. 'A giant!'
'That's no giant,' said Drake. 'That's Whale Mike. As he'd say – he my friend.'
The savages ran, fearing for their lives. But the striders had no such fear. On they came. Drake hauled Zanya into the safety of Mike's shadow. Oronoko followed, not knowing what else to do.'This strange place,' said Mike, looking around.'This very strange place,' said Drake.
Then the first of the striders was upon them. Whale Mike swung his battle-rod.
'Oh, great stuff, great stuff!' said Drake. 'Mike, you could just about take on a watermelon stand!''He could just about what?' said Zanya.
'Do battle with a watermelon stand,' said Drake. 'They're fearful dangerous, man.'
'I'm a woman,' she said. 'And you're babbling. And -look, there's crocodiles!'
As Mike dealt death to the second strider, Drake looked where Zanya was pointing and saw a horde of low- slung beasts slithering out of the gate from whence the striders had come.
'Those are crocodiles?' he said, disappointed. T thought they'd be bigger.'
'They're four times man-length,' said Zanya, 'and there's dozens of them. Isn't that enough for you? Where's this Door you were talking about?'
'There!' said Drake, pointing at the silver screen humming in the steel archway.And he hustled her through it.
Oronoko saw them vanish – but held his ground. He was confused. Bemused. He didn't know what to make of it. That, under the circumstances, was pardonable.
'Don't wait around, man!' yelled Jon Disaster. 'This place is bad news!'
And he hustled through the Door, dragging Oronoko with him. The pair found themselves on a beach. With Drake. And Zanya. And a heap of hands and feet. And some discarded spears. Some swords. Oronoko armed himself.
'Where do you think we are?' said Drake. 'Somewhere cold,' said Zanya, shivering in her thin purple robe.
The sea was a grey-thrash wilderness. The beach was brown-scab desolation of sand, rock and fractured rust. The hinterland was a desolation of wind-spiking reeds. Out of the reeds, with a scream, came a dozen warriors. They wore leather breeches and sheepskin jackets.'Run!' screamed Drake.
He hauled Zanya through the Door. And found himself on a marble plinth in a ruin-ringed slade deep in a bitter-chill forest. He was back in the Old City where he had first entered the Circle of the Door.
The muddy clearing was littered with carcasses. Corpses of three dozen warriors dressed in leather breeches and sheepskin jackets. Bodies of sixteen grey armoured monsters slaughtered by those warriors. At the edge of the forest, one poor fellow was yelling his head off as a great yellow slug browsed on his legs.
Drake turned back to the Door. Then stopped. What? Go round again? No, that was crazy. Better to wait here for the others, who couldn't be far behind.
'Welcome to my nightmare,' said Drake to Zanya. 'This is the Old City of Penvash Utter.''Is it?' said Zanya, without much interest.
'Aye,' said Drake. 'My grandfather ruled here once, when my family was still kings and all.'
'Oh,' said Zanya, in her dull sleepwalking voice. Then: 'I'm cold.'
'There's a cure for that,' said Drake, jumping down from the marble plinth. 'As long as you're not fussy.'
Zanya, as unfussy as they come, was soon dressed in leather breeches cut off just below the knees, and a warm sheepskin jacket. She wore her purple cloak over those garments.'Where are we?' she said.
'As I told you,' said Drake. 'In Penvash. The northwest corner of Argan. Understand?'
He was alarmed to find her mind so foggy when the demands of survival were so great.
'Oh,' she said. 'Penvash. I've been here before, I think. In a dream. But. . . what. . . what's that. . . ?'
She pointed at a slug, which was cruising towards them. Very calmly. Other slugs were emerging from the forest. Slowly, they oozed over the dead, absorbing them. The screaming man at the forest's edge stopped screaming. He was dead.
'Those slugs are murder,' said Drake. 'Stay away from them.'One was very close now. 'Shall we run?' said Zanya.
'I'm tired of running,' said Drake. And, to the slug: 'Come on then.'
As the slug came within range, Drake hacked with his sword. The bronze gashed home sweetly. With a hiss, the entire blade sizzled into steam. Drake was left holding the hilt alone. Phlegmatically, the slug oozed forward, oblivious of the weak slurry of yellow spilling from its wound.'Now we run!' yelled Drake.
He snatched up a club, Zanya grabbed a spare spear, and they scarpered into the forest. When they stopped, both panting, Drake realized he was disorientated. Lost, in fact.
He smelt burning. Yes. With Zanya in tow, he followed the smell to a wall of blue crystal fronting a burnt-out stretch of forest which reached away to an identical crystal wall. At least he knew where they were. The crystal walls ran east-west.
'There's a river,' said Drake. 'It runs south to Lorford. That's a town in Estar. That's-'' I know where Estar is,' said Zanya.
Her voice sounded crisper, firmer, as if possession of a battle-spear had awakened her intelligence. Good. The last thing Drake needed right now was for his woman to collapse into a helpless heap of whimpering femininity.
They wentslowly, cautiously, until they reached the river-bank. What now?'Sit down,' said Drake. 'We'll wait for my friends.''Friends?'
'The – the giant you saw with the metal rod. And some other people. We'll waitforthem.'
But, if the others reached the Old City, they'd surely make for the west, not the east to which Drake had been driven by stranger danger. Or maybe Rolf Thelemite or some other hero would lead them round the Circle again, hoping to make for the Castle of Controlling Power if all the green centipedes by Drangsturm were dead or glutted.This was very difficult!
Tiny drops of rain, sieved from low cloud above, fell all around, utterly soundless but very cold. 'Bugger!' said Drake.'The Flame,' said Zanya, 'does not approve of such talk.''Then bugger the Flame,' said Drake.
'You can't say that!' she said, in an animated voice of anger nothing at all like the drugged tones in which she had spoken earlier.'I'll say what I like,' said Drake. 'Bugger the Flame!'
He shouted it. And heard, as if in answer to his shout, a grunt from the forest. Then saw, crunching towards them, a grey monster with spiked head and a collar of natural armour around its neck.'Amonster,' hesaid.
'No,' said Zanya. 'Two monsters. There's another behind it. Look!' She was right. 'Oh no,' said Drake softly.
As the monsters paced toward them, Drake vaulted over the first crystal wall and began to run for the
