you gone daft?” he asked, but before he could speak further, the demon interrupted him, and both of his fellow adventurers had their attention riveted on the figure in front of them.
“Oh, yes!” said the thing in the cavern sweetly. “I will tell you where that nasty cataboligne is! It hurts me, and I hate its evil. I will gladly show you the way to its lair, a place not too far from here… unless brave men fear to have a naked and defenseless woman accompany them.” With that, the demon took a small step toward the four.
Yurgh growled softly, but he did not seem frightened and did not move forward to meet the thing. Curley and Chert seemed likewise unafraid-but Gord was horrified by the approach of the cataboligne!
As he fought to retain control of his reason in the face of his terror, Gord noticed for the first time that the sword in his hand seemed to be pulsing, and in an eye-blink he put everything together in his mind: The demon had somehow placed a glamour upon his companions, a magic that made them think they were facing an unclothed woman of harmless aspect. But the power of Gord’s weapon overcame the dweomer of the demon for him and enabled him to see the creature for what it really was!
Without dwelling further on the matter, Gord rapped the druid sharply on the left arm, using the flat of his blade. “Clear your brain, man!” he shouted, no longer tentative in the least. “The godsdamned demon comes for us!”
The cataboligne had been fixing its gaze on the bear, taking small, cautious steps toward it with the evident intention of finishing the giant ursine before going after the men. But then the earless, egg-shaped head jerked up at the sound of Gord’s desperate warning, and the terrible eyes locked on the young thief. An unspeakable fear filled Gord, and the wash of it weakened his muscles and made his knees knock together. He almost dropped his sword- but as his fingers loosened, the hilt somehow stuck fast in his hand. The demon continued to stare at Gord, but in the space of two or three seconds the feeling of terror passed and he felt himself able to move again.
“At the bastard thing, for your lives!” he shouted, and with that cry he darted a couple of steps forward, ready to do battle.
The effect of Gord’s actions freed the others from the illusion they had been beholding, as evidenced by their immediate reactions. Yurgh roared with ear-splitting ferocity, stood erect, and shuffled forward on his back legs. The druid swung a hammer free from his left wrist where it had been thonged, loosed it toward the demon in a single, whirling motion, and then held his ground near the chamber entrance. The barbarian stepped up to close quarters with the terrible foe, battle-axe held ready to strike.
All of the demon’s intended victims were now bent on destroying the thing, but the monster was not unprepared for this turn of events. Distracted for a split-second by the bear’s roar, the cataboligne failed to avoid the thrown warhammer-but even as it was struck on the body by the whirling weapon, the demon was acting to again put its attackers at a disadvantage. The blue radiance it gave off became a brief, eye-searing blue flash-and then all light was gone, including that from the lodestone on Chert’s helmet. The cavern was plunged into total darkness.
“Come close, demon dog, and feel Brool!” The cry came from Chert, standing off to Gord’s right between the thief and the bear. Although he was blinded, a low humming sound indicated that the barbarian was swinging his great battle-axe to and fro before him.
The demon’s response was a hideous, chilling laughter, a sound like a dozen insane children in demented glee.
Gord found that he could see clearly despite the blackness, although colors were not as they should have been. It took a moment for his brain to learn how to deal with things-and by then it was almost too late!
“To your right, Chert!” screamed Gord. “The thing is moving between you and Yurgh!” He saw Chert turn in response to his warning, just as the demon pivoted to face Gord, glaring banefully, and pointed at him with a scaled, claw-fingered hand. Instinctively, Gord took evasive acrobatic action, not a second too soon. Gray light issued from the cataboligne’s eyes, first striking the place where he had been and then following the path of his leap and roll. Before he could rise from his half-prone position, Gord felt the strange radiance touch him. A terrible wave of pain passed through him; then his muscles were convulsed by a vicious cramping, and he couldn’t move. Paralyzed, Gord could only watch what transpired next.
As the demon was spending its power on Gord, the druid had been at work. Thanks to a spell guided by Greenleaf’s elven eyesight, the cataboligne was now limned with a pale radiance, and both barbarian and bear could see its form outlined in pale green phosphorescence. Chert was closer and struck immediately.
“Brool bites!” he bellowed, leaping forward and burying his axe in the demon’s scaly thigh. The big barbarian was dwarfed by the towering cataboligne, but the blow caused the demon to shriek in pain. As Chert drew back the blade, the demon sent a stream of ugly, blue darts from its fingers. These missiles struck the barbarian, and he reeled backward.
What the demon intended next was uncertain, for a snarling form struck it in fury, and cataboligne and cave bear were locked in a tearing, clawing, biting, roaring melee. The bear’s rush actually overbore the demon, and the two combatants rolled and fought locked together thus. Chert, still staggering from the effects of the strike he had absorbed, followed their path as they thrashed about the chamber, being careful not to be crushed beneath these titanic opponents but staying ready to strike with his axe again when he could get a clear target.
“Move!”
That word came from Greenleaf, who shouted in Gord’s ear at the same instant that the thief’s muscles came back to life. He had not felt the druid’s initial touch, but now the healing magic had worked, and he could fend for himself again!
“Thank you,” was all he could get out before the druid dashed off to go to the barbarian’s side. Gord stood and moved carefully to gain a position where he could attack without fear of interfering with his friends. Within a few steps, the last vestiges of stiffness left his limbs, and he felt as fit as he had before.
Gord could see that Curley Greenleaf was touching Chert, just as he had ministered to Gord moments earlier. At that moment the bear gave an awful roar, shuddered, and lay still. The scaly demon stood up, pulling free from the embrace of the mortally wounded Yurgh. The cataboligne was torn by tooth and claw in several places, and yellow-green ichor dripped from its wounds. Throwing its head back in triumph, the cataboligne howled a cry of victory. Filled with bloodlust, it ignored the men and reached down to break and crush the bear. Just then, Chert struck again.
The first swing of his humming axe only grazed the demon’s right arm that was reaching for Yurgh’s motionless body. But the barbarian recovered quickly, and the weapon’s backswing took the demon on its other arm, putting a deep gash in it. The demon bellowed again, but this time its shout was not triumphant.
“Come on, you blue bugger, fight me!” Chert challenged.
The demon accepted, spinning with catlike speed and swiping its uninjured arm in a clawed blow which tore into the barbarian’s chest, unbalancing him and allowing the towering monster to use its wounded arm to strike and hold Chert. The demon’s long claws sank into his flesh, but the barbarian was not finished. He worked his right arm free and struck again.
“Brool!” he managed to cry, as the battle-axe again impacted on the demon’s severely wounded left arm. This time the blade bit true, and the limb was severed from the monster’s body. With a shriek, the cataboligne leapt off and away from Chert, grabbed up its lost arm, and held it up against the place from which it had been severed. As Gord watched with a mixture of fascination and horror, the demon’s sickening ichor flooded over and into the twitching arm, and a blurring seemed to occur around the wound. The demon was reattaching its lost limb!
Gord was moving up to stab the monster while its attention was elsewhere, but before he was close enough to do so, a sheet of roaring flame sprang up between him and the demon. It was said that such creatures revel in fire, but evidently this one didn’t. The thing roared in anger when the flames appeared, but continued to concentrate on repairing its arm.
At first the fire seemed hesitant to approach the demon’s body, almost as if something prevented it from coming near. The crackling fire danced in a ring encompassing the monster, and all the while it kept working on its arm. The flames went out for a second and then reappeared, this time in a blazing mass that enveloped the thing and threatened to consume it-but too late! Now whole again, the creature raised its arms and brought them down, and as they lowered, the flames dimmed and began to die. Scorched and smoking, the demon strode forward away from the last licking tongues of fire. As the last of the flames died, so did the greenish luminescence that had swathed the demon, again making the thing invisible to those without special sight.
Not hampered by the lack of light, Greenleaf advanced toward the monster, stopping less than a spear’s
