'Well,' said Guest staunchly. 'That's what you think, but – '
Then, abandoning speech for action, the Weaponmaster pushed through the wizards and strode into the cave.
'Guest!' yelled Nol.
Heedless on the cry from Ontario Nol, Guest Gulkan walked right into the cave. As he touched his brother, the white fire which had been flickering along Eljuk's limbs abruptly died away to nothing. Whatever force had been levitating Eljuk's body ceased to operate, and the full weight of it fell into Guest's arms. Guest grunted as he took the weight.
'Eljuk?' he said.
Eljuk was still breathing, but he was unconscious.
So Guest quite naturally carried him out of the cave.
As Guest exited from the Cave of the Warp, the wizards fell back before him, regarding him with horror. He was no wizard, but he had ventured into the Warp! He had ventured, and had emerged unscathed! Could he then be human? Guest stood before them, an inscrutable Yarglat barbarian, a creature with huge ears and painfully high cheekbones, the embodiment of alien mystery. He had done what nobody else in recorded history had ever succeeded in doing: he had ventured into the Cave of the Warp without a wizard's training to support him, and had come out alive.
As Guest stood there, a voice of thunder boomed:
'I am Lorzunduk, lord of the Mahendo Mahunduk! Behold! And know your doom!'
The voice cried thus in the High Speech of wizards. On hearing the cry, Sken-Pitilkin promptly collapsed.
'See!' said the thunder. 'The evil Sken-Pitilkin has been killed! You likewise will die!'
Under the circumstances, this seemed so probable, so easily believable, that the wizards broke and ran. Even Ontario Nol fell back before this combination of inexplicable mystery and patent threat.
One wizard ran too slowly, for Guest grabbed and smashed the wizard who was carrying the yellow bottle – knocked him senseless with fist and elbow, tore the bottle from his possession, then wrested from his finger the ring which allowed one to enter and leave the bottle. Guest lowered Eljuk to the ground.
'Shabble!' said Guest.
The bubble of bounce, which had so recently scattered the wizards with a threat couched in the High Speech of wizards – for of course it was Shabble, the world's most reckless ventriloquist, who had breached the morning with a voice of thunder – came drifting toward Guest Gulkan.
Shabble was free-floating in the air, the silver-braided tethering rope having been dropped by the wizard who had been holding it. Shabble responded to the Weaponmaster's summons because long and amicable acquaintance had led the shining bubble to think of Guest Gulkan as a friend. Guest promptly grabbed the tethering rope. Then he strode to Sken-Pitilkin and seized the wizard by the scruff of the neck. The wizard was not dead at all – merely unconscious. Guest twisted the ring on his finger, and was carried into the yellow bottle in company with Sken-Pitilkin and Shabble. With no time to waste, the Weaponmaster released the bubble and let the wizard fall, then used the ring to make a solo return to the outside air.
In that outside air, the wizards were already beginning to rally, with Ontario Nol shouting:
'It was Shabble! It was Shabble who shouted! There's no god, no demon, just Shabble!'
Seeing the wizards were no longer running, Guest did a swift calculation. He had hoped to bundle his brother Eljuk into the yellow bottle then head for the hills. But the wizards were no longer running in panic, so Guest could not help to flee across the mountains.
And he had no time to pick up Eljuk.
'Guest!' yelled Nol. 'Drop the bottle! Drop the bottle, or you're a dead man!'
So.
So Nol had chosen to throw in his lot with the Confederation.
Well.
He'd have to try something better than threats if he wanted to catch Guest Gulkan!
So thinking, Guest began to back into the Cave of the Warp, carrying with him the yellow bottle which contained Sken-Pitilkin and Shabble (and, presumably, the shamefully oversleeping Thayer Levant).
'Guest,' said Nol, advancing to the mouth of the cave. 'Come out of there. I don't know why you're still alive, but I don't expect you to live much longer. It's dangerous in there!'
Guest thought this a singularly futile threat, since he was surely a dead man if he came out of that cave to face the wrath of the wizards.
So thinking, Guest retreated to the very end of the cave, to the rainbow wall which the wizards knew as the Veils of Fire.
'Guest!' yelled Nol, as rainbow-weaving coils of cold fire began to weave around Guest Gulkan's limbs. 'Guest! Guest! Come out of there!'
But, instead, Guest took a single step backwards.
And vanished right through the Veils of Fire.
'Blood of a goat,' said Ontario Nol in disbelief. 'Now I've seen everything.'
Those wizards who had been quick enough in the recovery of their courage to have witnessed Guest Gulkan's departure joined him in his disbelief.
Then one, at last accepting the evidence of his eyes, hawked, and spat, and said:
'Well. It's over. He's dead of a certainty.'
And, the destruction of Guest Gulkan, Sken-Pitilkin, Shabble and the bottle now being entirely assured, nothing remained for the wizards but to pack up and make their return to Drangsturm – and there to report the death of the inscrutable Shabble and the terminal disposition of the renegade wizard Hostaja Sken-Pitilkin.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Warp: the rift in reality into which apprentice wizards venture to pact with creatures of the World Beyond. All such apprentices know there is one thing they must never do: they must never ever tread beyond the Veils of Fire. What lies beyond the Veils of Fire, nobody knows, but this much is for certain: nobody has ever returned alive from an inspection of its mysteries.
With all the insouciant ease of a drunken man stepping off the top of a cliff, Guest Gulkan stepped backwards through the Veils of Fire. Cold-burning rainbow leapt around the Weaponmaster as he stepped backwards. On the third step of his retreat, his back bumped against a wall.
Since he was safely out of sight of the wizards – there was nothing to be seen in front of him but veil upon veil of impetuous rainbow – Guest turned to face the wall. It was a dark, velvety, purple-black wall which yielded slightly beneath his touch. Guest, being the Yarglat barbarian he was, responded to this mystery by subjecting it to an exercise of brute force. He pushed.
Hard. And shouldered right through that purple-black wall.
The world plunged to black.
The world plunged to black as Guest's feet plunged to water, with something fragile smashing and shifting underfoot as he sought for his balance.
He was -
He was standing ankle-deep in cold water in a place which was very dark, very cold and very quiet. He could no longer see the slightest trace of rainbow fire. In fact, he could hardly see anything at all. The largest sound was his own harsh breathing.
Since he was temporarily blind, or near enough to blind, Guest stood absolutely still and listened. As he listened – hearing nothing of consequence – he closed his eyes. A long moment later, he opened them.
Then looked around.
As Guest's eyes began to acclimatize to the gloom, he began to see
… shapes. What kind of shapes? Not ghouls, ghosts, werewolf, vampires, sorcerers or necromancers. Not armored marauders armed with weighted lead and bloody iron. No. These were strange shapes – and their totally unprecedented nature told Guest Gulkan that he was very much out of his depth.
