x-zix? Of course it had been! And why? Perhaps – this was Guest's dire thought – perhaps Sken-Pitilkin had not been intent on winning the wishstone. Perhaps Sken-Pitilkin had bethought himself of the Shabble which lived on Untunchilamon.
So…
If Sken-Pitilkin had seen Iva-Italis on Alozay, and if Sken-Pitilkin had then gone to Untunchilamon, then might it not be that the wizard's true intent had ever been to introduce Shabble to the demon Italis? Guest could not help but think that, while a Shabble in isolation was not necessarily particularly dangerous, a Shabble in combination with a demon – or in combination with all the demons of the Circle of the Partnership Banks – might prove an alliance capable of dominating the world.
'We will not be contending with Shabble,' said Guest grimly.
'Rather, we will be contending with Sken-Pitilkin, for I fear him in conspiracy against us.'
'How so?' said Qinplaqus.
'I fear that Sken-Pitilkin may have deliberately sought out Shabble on Untunchilamon with the sole purpose of introducing that delinquent to the demon on Alozay,' said Guest. 'I fear that Shabble and the demon may now league with Sken-Pitilkin, matching their powers with his powers of flight, and producing a world- dominating combination.'
'Then,' said Lord Onosh, with the ferocity which befits a Yarglat warlord, 'we must hurry to Alozay and cut off Sken-Pitilkin's head!'
But it was not till three days had passed that they were conveyed at last to the Bralsh in covered palankeens.
By this time, Yubi Das Finger had obtained clearance from all the Banks through which Witchlord and Weaponmaster would travel on their way home. They were free to travel.
Plandruk Qinplaqus then assigned Thayer Levant to Guest Gulkan's service, partly so Levant could later bring Qinplaqus an independent account of the activities of Witchlord and Weaponmaster, and partly because Qinplaqus thought that Levant might be of use to those Yarglat barbarians.
After all, had it not been for Levant's audacity and endurance, the x-x-zix would never have reached Dalar ken Halvar and the mazadath would not have been saved for Guest Gulkan.
Instead, both those treasures would have fallen to the Mutilator of Yestron.
Levant was not particularly keen to again be of service to Guest, for the Weaponmaster had proved singularly ungrateful for the magnificent service which Levant had rendered him. The shifty- eyed knifeman was beginning to think he had had quite enough of this adventuring business, and that it was time for him to be thinking of settling down in his native Chi'ash-lan, or perhaps in Dalar ken Halvar itself.
But Qinplaqus was adamant.
Levant must go!
'Then we will take Levant,' said Guest. 'And we will leave you the cornucopia which we won from the Stench Caves of Logthok
Norgos. On our behalf you may use it to generate wealth, piling up the treasure which we may need for the financing of our future wars.'
So spoke the Weaponmaster. For his part, the Witchlord Onosh was not at all sure that he wished for Plandruk Qinplaqus to take charge of the cornucopia. Nevertheless, the offer could not be unsaid, so the cornucopia was handed over to Qinplaqus. But – to the mutual dismay of both Witchlord and Weaponmaster – the thing had been corrupted by over-use.
For it proved capable of generating nothing but an outflux of black slime, regardless of what was put into it – silver, gold, grapes, chocolate, sand, water, urine, cockroaches, mice, kittens, steel, copper, zinc.
A great disaster, this!
So died all visions of world-conquering wealth; and, depressed at realizing they had won no profit from their raid on the Stench Caves, Witchlord and Weaponmaster prepared to leave Dalar ken Halvar.
In accordance with the insistence of Plandruk Qinplaqus, Thayer levant accompanied Witchlord and Weaponmaster as they traveled to the Bralsh. There, the three adventurers were admitted to its weirding room; and stepped onto the marble plinth in that weirding room; and stepped through the archway sustained by that plinth; and found themselves in the Singing Dove Pensions Trust of Tang.
Again through the Door, and they were in the Taniwha Guarantee Corporation of Quilth. Another passage through that humming silver screen took them to the Orsay Bank of Stokos. Then to a room of hanging skeletons – the weirding room of the Morgrim Bank of Chi'ash-lan.
The next step would take them home.
Home to Alozay, the ruling island of the Safrak archipelago.
Witchlord and Weaponmaster braced themselves. Levant saw their bracing, anticipated swordplay, and sighed.
They stepped through the Door.
And found themselves in the weirding room in the uppermost chamber of the mainrock Pinnacle, the great spike of rock which dominated the island of Alozay.
And there -
Chapter Forty-Two
Alozay: ruling island of the Safrak archipelago of the Swelaway Sea. On Alozay stands the mainrock Pinnacle, home to the Door of the Safrak Bank. This Bank was formerly ruled by Lord Sod, who is now a hostage on Alozay, which has been ruled by the dralkosh Bao Gahai in the absence of the Witchlord Onosh. Also in residence on Alozay is Guest Gulkan's scholarly brother, Eljuk
Zala Gulkan, he who is disfigured by a birthmark which dribbles from the corners of his mouth then spills to a merging at his neck; and Ontario Nol, a wizard of the order of Itch, who has long been Eljuk's tutor.
Through the Door came Witchlord and Weaponmaster, with Thayer Levant trailing but a footfall behind them, and there they found Shabble waiting for them.
Lord Onosh was so disconcerted that he almost turned and fled back through that Door. For, though Guest had by this time described Shabble often and at length, the Witchlord was hard put to maintain his composure when he found that the truth of this flying ball lived to the tale which Guest had told.
'Hello,' said Shabble, speaking in the Toxteth which was used by so many of Alozay's inhabitants.
But Lord Onosh made no reply.
Shabble drifted through the air toward the Witchlord. The fist-sized bubble pressed itself against the Witchlord's cheek, rolled up the Witchlord's face, bumped over the ridges of the Witchlord's slanting forehead, shone a tightly-focused beam of light into the mysterious recesses of the Witchlord's bat-wing ears, then rolled down his back, ducked between his legs, and slid upward through the air till they were (so to speak) face to face once more.
'Welcome to my island,' said Shabble. 'I welcome you. You and my son.'
Then Shabble turned on Guest Gulkan.
Shabble drifted through the air to hang hot and humming by the Weaponmaster's ear. Shabble was warm, warm as a cat's yawn, a bath-sponge sea. The warmth was suggestive of magma. Guest thought of scar tissue, of welted burns, of buckled flesh, of molten distortion, of hot-poker pain.
'You have a ring on your finger.'
'A ring?' said Guest.
'A pretty ring,' said Shabble. 'Light within and light without. I have heard of this ring. Yilda!'
At that, one of Shabble's people approached. A woman. A hardbitten woman named Yilda, whom Guest had last seen on Untunchilamon. At that time, he had scarcely remarked her face, for he had not thought her made for great destiny. But obviously he had been wrong.
'Give her the ring,' said Shabble. 'Do not – do not! – swallow it. The corpse master Uckermark is somewhere in this rock, and his skill is ample for dissection.'Guest knew this Uckermark also. The thus-named corpse master had been another of the denizens of Untunchilamon, another of those people whom Guest had never expected to
