'Sick?' said Nol.
'You know,' said Guest. 'Like all of us were at Ibsen-Iktus, you know, the first night in Qonsajara.'
'Your sickness was caused by climbing too high too fast,' said Nol. 'Here we have gone slowly, hence height is not a problem.'
'But Eljuk's so quiet,' said Guest.
'What would you expect?' said Nol somberly. 'Of course he's quiet! He's preparing himself for tomorrow.'
'Tomorrow?' said Guest.
'We should be there tomorrow!' said Nol. 'At the Warp. At the Place of Testing. Then – Guest, many try, but few succeed.'
'Why?' said Guest. 'What happens? These, these Tests, what makes them kill people?'
'That is not for you to know,' said Nol.
And the eminent wizard of Itch quite refused to talk about it any further.
That evening, Guest Gulkan tried to discuss the matter of Eljuk's Tests with Sken-Pitilkin.
'It's those – those Mahendo Mahunduk things,' said Guest.
'That's what it is, isn't it? They'll kill him!'
'Quiet!' said Sken-Pitilkin, in shock. 'Quiet, lest a wizard hear, and kill you!'
It had now been so long since Sken-Pitilkin had heard Guest speak of the Mahendo Mahunduk that he had hoped the Weaponmaster to have forgotten all about them. The Mahendo Mahunduk, the sometime soldiers of the Revisionary Gods, were creatures of destruction who were half-demon and half-deity. Their old masters were dead, or else had evolved, since evolution is one of the fatal flaws to which the gods are prone; and so the Mahendo Mahunduk were at liberty to make alliances with wizards.
As a slave can enter the service of an emperor, and gain a measure of power and protection from his association with such a dignitary, so too can a wizard make an alliance with one of the Mahendo Mahunduk. But, just as a cruel and demanding emperor may subject a candidate slave to a potentially destructive test of will, so too do the Mahendo Mahunduk test all candidate wizards.
To make contact with the Mahendo Mahunduk, a candidate wizard must enter the Warp in the Shackle Mountains; and this, as Sken-Pitilkin painstakingly explained to Guest, exposed the Confederation to danger.
'For,' said Sken-Pitilkin, 'to maintain its strength, the Confederation needs an infusion of new blood. Were anyone to use armed force to close the road to the Place of Testing, then the Confederation would have no means to replenish its strength. Hence the secrets of the Warp are exceptionally sensitive.'
'But,' objected Guest, 'it is widely known that wizards make pilgrimage to the Shackle Mountains.'
'Perhaps,' said Sken-Pitilkin. 'But further publicity will be less than welcome. If you preach to the world of the Mahendo Mahunduk then the Confederation will kill you.'
'I was hardly preaching!' protested Guest.
'Be deaf, dumb and mute,' said Sken-Pitilkin. 'Else you will be die in these mountains, and soon.' Guest Gulkan obeyed.
But the Weaponmaster was far from happy at being told to shut up and do nothing. While Guest Gulkan had stoically endured the long journey from Drum to Drangsturm, his subsequent interrogation by ethnologists and the longeurs of Sken-Pitilkin's trial, the cumulative effects of these insults to his autonomy had bred in his breast a savage frustration. Guest Gulkan had desired to make himself the conqueror of the Circle of the Partnership Banks, or at least of some small portion of that Circle. To that end, he had quested for the x-x-zix, had dared himself into the Stench Caves, had gone head-to-head with
Aldarch the Third and Anaconda Stogirov, had contended against Great Gods and demons, and had put himself through more torment than most people endure in a lifetime.
And what was the end result of all this?
Why, the end result of this was the total perversion of all his expectations – so that, rather than ruling an empire, he found himself tagging along behind a band of wizards, a refugee dependent on the charity of Ontario Nol, a ragged swordsman without power or authority or status or recognition.
And now, as a crisis neared, as his brother Eljuk looked likely to die, as Sken-Pitilkin looked certain to die, as Shabble was to be wastefully consigned to whatever destruction waited behind the Veils of Fire, why, Guest Gulkan's sole role was apparently to be a gawking spectator.
Now Guest no longer had the confidence to believe that he could successfully challenge the strength of a parcel of wizards armed and ready for action – but, as his frustration mounted to a head, he began to think himself ready to take on the world regardless, even if his certain doom was to be the result.
The next day, with Guest still brooding darkly on the collapse of his hopes and the many insults which had been done to his dignity, the travelers labored to the top of a sharp ridge, and found themselves looking across a steep but narrow valley.
'On the other side of this valley,' said Ontario Nol, 'is the Cave of the Warp.' Guest Gulkan looked across the valley and saw not one cave but an array of gaping holes opening to realms of darkest shadow.
'It looks like a perfect lair for dragons,' said the Weaponmaster.
'Dragons would not live here,' said Ontario Nol. 'They must live near their food. Hence you will find them near the sea, where they can fish for the whale; or close to our cities, where their food runs two-legged; or else living near volcanoes or similar, for they can diet upon sulphur at a pinch.'
Having received that intelligence, Guest Gulkan studied the prospect further, then said:
'These caves have been artificed by the hands of men.'
'What makes you think that?' said Ontario Nol.
'The spacing is regular,' said Guest, holding out his hand and measuring the gap between each cavemouth with his fingers.
'Nothing in nature is so regular of formation.'
'The caves were made,' acknowledged Ontario Nol. 'But I would not say that they were necessarily made by men.'
'By who, then?' said Guest. 'Gods? Demons?'
'I cannot say,' said Nol.
'Why not?' said Guest.
'Because,' said Nol, 'I do not know.'
And, with that, the wizard of Itch headed downward into the valley.
By evening, the travelers had reached the cave of the Warp, which proved singularly disappointing. It was a big cave, true, but no monsters lurked in the velvety blue-black of its shadows.
Instead, at the far end of the cave – some fifty paces from the opening, in Guest's judgment – there was a wall of interwoven rainbow. This twisted slowly, sinuously, throwing off occasional sprays of lights.
'That,' said Ontario Nol, in portentous tones, 'is the Veils of Fire. Many have ventured beyond those Veils, but none have returned to tell the tale. Tomorrow, Sken-Pitilkin will take Shabble beyond those Veils, and both will die.'
'So you say,' said Guest, who was effortlessly unimpressed by this cave and its Veils.
'I say it because it is the truth,' said Nol. 'Now come away.
And stay well away from this cave, for sometimes the denizens of these shadows have reached out to kill those who idly outside by the entrance.'
'Is that so?' said Guest.
'It is so,' affirmed Nol, and drew Guest away from the cave, and compelled him to the campsite which the wizards were setting up a stone's throw distant from that cavern.
By this time, Guest was more than half-convinced that the wizards were the victims of a communal hallucination; and that, if anyone had truly died inside that cave, then their deaths had more to do with autosuggestion than with the Mahendo Mahunduk or any similar creatures.
That night, Guest Gulkan did not sleep. Neither did most of the rest of the adventurers. The wizards for the most part sat muttering through their Meditations. For them, the Cave of the Warp was a place of the utmost significance, whatever Guest might think of it, and to be in its presence awakened old dedications, old ambitions, so that the most slovenly amongst them was compelled to fresh endeavor.
Eljuk sat apart, keeping a solitary vigil, and when Guest approached him Ontario Nol was quick to head him off.
