wrenching of his mind as the casting was broken uncompleted. He tried to turn, to use his magic against the one who had so sorely harmed him. Then that part of Sigildark's brain that had been trying to warn him burst forth into his consciousness: 'Fool, fool, fool!' The prone man had not been where he should have been when the thunderfire calling began! These thoughts were a most unfortunate distraction for the mage. Sigildark should have been fleeing for his life.
Gord released his hold on the imbedded dagger in order to use both hands to grip the longsword. With the double grasp, he brought the blade up and down so quickly that he caught the mage in half-turn. Charm, spell, amulet, enchantment, talisman — none of the protections worn, carried, or placed upon his person were proof against that attack.
The dull ebon of the sword's blade scythed to cut through cloak and robe and girdle. It cut skin and flesh and innards, too. Sigildark grabbed at his stomach, pushing back the sausagelike things that tried to slide forth through the awful wound. Standing thus, partially bent and unaware of all else, Gord struck and delivered the coup de grace to the malign spell-binder, cleaving his head from his body, and Sigildark's rotten soul went from him that instant. Although Gord didn't know it, Infestix did soon enough, and even that one quailed despite his glee at having such a prize.
There was a hooting, a whining behind him, so Gord brought his sword up and spun, ready to defend himself. He was in time to witness the demise of Krung, albeit only the death of the netherfiend's material form used to convey the monster on this plane. As If by whim alone, the young champion who opposed Tharizdun and all his vile servitors came to stand beside the netherfiend as it slowly expired. The thing seemed to recognize Gord. It spat a weak glob of disgusting spittle and stuck out its obscene tongue.
'I tasted your blood, little man,' Krung rasped in a high pitch, the voice hardly strong enough to carry now. 'It was as good as that of your friends aboard
'Will you, now?' Gord asked, bringing the tip of Blackheartseeker out to touch the monster's hideous snout.
As if suddenly energized, the dying netherfiend found strength to draw back from the sword, eyes gleaming, fearful. 'No, Masterful One. I lied. Forgive me, please! I will be yours to command — I will do anything!'
'Don't you like to be near the weapon of a 'Masterful One'?'
'It is too wonderful to bear,' Krung responded. Meanwhile it was slowly bringing its left hand to a place where it could tear out its own throat and finish its quasi-death here.
Gord saw the motion and struck. Krung's arm, severed at the elbow, flopped and writhed with clenching fingers before the fiend's eyes. 'And no need to worry, vile thing! Let your fear be sure and certain. I know what you are, what you did, who you serve. Better still, for me, netherfiend, I know what this blade will do to you!'
Krung's eyes bulged and its mouth gaped to make some utterance, but Blackheartseeker struck too quickly. The dull black of its blade glowed with a purplish sheen for an instant as it drew into itself the force that was Krung; then the sword was dead ebon again.
'Gods!' Chert spat, seeing the very form of the monstrous horror from the pits shrink and wither before his gaze. The sword's power had drained the vital forces from the netherfiend, leaving a withered husk that a mere touch turned into dry dust. 'Its soul?' he asked shakily, looking at Gord with uncertainty.
'Annihilated,' Gord replied emotionlessly. 'It is as if it… Krung… that's what it called itself, you know… never existed. That thing has no being anywhere now — here, the pits, or in the endless spheres of probability. It is nothing!' The latter was uttered with vehemence, for the young thief recalled his slain friends Barrel, Dohojar, and the rest as he spoke. Gord had now had satisfaction upon the slave involved in the matter. Now he wanted the master. Gravestone. Turning to look at Gellor, Gord asked, 'Where are Timmil and Allton?'
Chert replied, wiping sweat from his brow as he spoke, for he had fought against the netherfiend fiercely and bore a number of bruises and wounds to prove it. The mage told me they were going above,' the hillman rumbled, 'to seek out the hand of Nerull who has been the one behind all this.'
All four sets of eyes turned to look at the great disc that loomed high above their heads. Gellor's enchanted eye, though, saw more than even the young champion's supernatural vision could discern. 'That place fairly dances with evil and throbs with the power of the magical traps and defenses which protect it — and the one whose lair it is!'
'I see neither the priest nor Allton,' Greenleaf interjected. 'They too must have seen the dangers.'
'They should have bided until we had done with those two,' Gord said flatly, glancing at what remained of Krung and the decapitated body of Sigildark. 'Now our force is divided, and the enemy has a prime opportunity to deal with us piecemeal. Shit! How do we hasten above to join them?'
Chert looked blank, and the druid was silent, pondering. Gellor, however, spoke up again. 'My sight of things shows that our companions must have ventured up that spiral there,' he told Gord, pointing to a faintly visible staircase about a hundred paces distant. Its darkly luminous steps appeared to twist upward as it hung on thin air. 'The aura I see would indicate that the dweomer and malign wardings there have been neutralized to some extent. Can you manage what remains, Curley?'
Greenleaf looked uncertain, but Gord interjected at this point. 'I have sufficient imbued energy to resist an accursed spell which might lie in wait for us along the path, my friends. Come on; follow closely. We must find Timmil and Allton before they come to grief!'
The four made a grim picture as they headed for the helix of stone slabs that was their chosen means to ascend to the suspended platform above. Bristling with magical weaponry and enchantments to enhance their innate abilities, few evil opponents, indeed, would readily step forth to confront them. Although already somewhat bloodied by the foes that had tried to stand in their way, these four brave ones seemed quite unaware of their wounds, undaunted by what terrible enemies still lay ahead.
'Were we but in the natural world,' Greenleaf said by way of apology to his young friend. 'I would be of more service with my castings, Gord — Gellor, too, I think,' he added, giving a sideways glance at the troubador.
'True, Curley,' Gellor confirmed. 'Our muscular giant there would find it more to his taste, too!'
Chert laughed softly and swung Brool to make the great axe sing. 'I like the clean air and open land, true; but Brool has no objection to slaying demons or devils wherever they are found.' The big hillman laughed again.
Setting foot on the first step, Gord signaled the other three to silence. Without a further word, they ascended the weird stairway.
Chapter 10
It was night. Worse: dark as a tomb. No, worse than that: the ultimate lightlessness. 'I am blinded.' Gord announced matter-of-factly, keeping the apprehension he felt from showing in his tone.
Chert jostled him from behind. 'I too, comrade,' he rumbled.
'Perhaps I can cast a spell to bring us some illumination,' Greenleaf ventured.
'Hold!' The command from Gellor stopped everyone in mid-step. 'I can see with the aid of my dweomered ocular,' he told his companions. 'We stand on a little table atop a pinnacle which vanishes in the distance below. Make no move!'
'Pinnacle?' Gord asked uncertainly.
'Aye. Around is a void which seems bottomless. Far, far below I see a dim, black vortex. At the hazard of supposition, that could well be an opening to the anti-plane,' the bard told them, referring to the total negative, that place where they would be annihilated in an Instant.
'You are right, Gellor. My dark sword tingles in my grasp as it brings such force to itself. That, at least, is a boon to us.'
'Turd-snacking wizard's trap!' Chert grated angrily, hating the absolute powerlessness he felt in his blind state. 'At least whatever comes hereafter will be a lesser challenge.'
Greenleaf spoke agreement to that, but then added, 'Are we trapped with no place to go — ahead or back?'
'Behind there is nothing,' Gellor informed them all. 'But I see another transparent pinnacle ahead. It is about
