“That is so. You were saying that you escaped from the room wherein the Brain resides.”
“Yeah, but now we’re lost again.”
“ ‘We’?”
“Well, yeah, my friends, but as you can see, we got separated.”
“Hey, Linda!” came Snowclaw’s voice.
Linda whirled, searching. “Snowy! Where are you?”
“Hold on!”
A moment later Snowclaw materialized in the corridor. He flashed a toothy grin. “Hey, how about that? Neat trick, huh?”
“Fabulous! You got your talent!”
“Ain’t it something? By the way, I found Gene.”
Linda jumped up and hugged him. “You wonderful guy! Where is he?”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain, but I just left him to get to you. I can jump right back, but I don’t exactly know where he is in relation to here — if you know what I mean.” He put Linda down and sniffed, looking around. “Hey, who did doo-doo all over the floor?”
“Never mind. Let’s find Gene.”
“That’s gonna take some doing.”
“You say you don’t know where he is, but you can get there by doing your disappearing act?”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you jump back to Gene and tell him to start yelling. We’ll do it too.”
“Right.” Snowy poked a milky claw at Osmirik. “Who’s this dude?”
“This is — I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Osmirik, scribe to the House of Gan.”
“He’s on our side, Snowy. Nice to meet you, Os …”
“Osmirik.”
“Sorry. I’m Linda Barclay, and this is Snowclaw. Very pleased to meet you, Osmirik.”
“The honor is mine, Mistress Linda Barclay, and … Snowclaw.” Osmirik bowed deeply.
“Okay,” Snowclaw said. “I’ll jump back.” He closed his eyes briefly, turned his body slightly to the right, took two steps and vanished.
“Wow,” Linda said admiringly. “Neat.”
“I believe I can find your friend,” Osmirik said.
“You can?”
“We all have our talents, do we not? I seem to have been endowed with certain olfactory gifts ordinarily reserved for dumb beasts.”
“Olfactory? You mean you can smell Gene from here?”
“No, but the creature who just left us has a most unusual odor. He is in that direction.” Osmirik pointed to his right.
“Speaking of unusual odors …”
After Osmirik had bathed in the travertine tub Linda had thoughtfully conjured, he rubbed himself down, put on the clean tunic and tights she had also conjured, then stepped out from the partition.
“I hope I do not catch my death of ague. I was taught that it is not advisable to immerse one’s body.”
“It’s not only advisable, it’s desirable. And fun.”
“Especially with another person,” Gene said.
Linda spun around. Gene had his arms wrapped around Snowclaw. “Hey, it worked, Snowy.”
“Whattaya know,” Snowclaw said. “I don’t know how, though.”
“Apparently you have a teleportation field around you,” Gene said. “On second thought, why wouldn’t a chunk of the floor go with you too?” He shook his head. “No, it’s magic. You just have the ability to teleport things, including your own body.” He looked toward Osmirik. “Hi, there.”
Osmirik bowed.
Deepest Levels
The caverns were deep and dark. Jacoby was fearful, but he trusted the voice. No harm would befall him as long as he persevered in his sacred mission. He passed through chamber after chamber, a strange radiance lighting his way, moving with him. As far as he could tell, the light had no source. It simply illuminated the area about him within a ten-foot radius. The caves themselves were visible by virtue of an innate luminescence in the rock.
The strange light knew the way. Jacoby followed it.
He passed a pool of dark, smoking liquid, a large bubble erupting on its viscous surface. The bubble broke, splattering, and steam vented from the hole that had formed until the black substance seeped back to close it off.
He entered a narrow crypt, dark recesses cut into its walls. From them came rustling sounds, clicking sounds. A pair of red eyes regarded from a shadowy niche as he hurried through.
All around him was a sense of presence, of discreet movement, of waiting and watching. But nothing challenged him, no one bothered him.
Something multilegged with a pointed snout came scampering out of an intersecting tunnel. It saw Jacoby and stopped so abruptly that it nearly went tumbling. It did a hasty about-face and scuttled back into darkness.
Jacoby breathed again and put a hand over his thumping heart. “Good God,” he said quietly. He filled his lungs, exhaled, and moved on.
He came to an open area where a water-carved rock bridge arched over a deep chasm, at the bottom of which lay a phosphorescent yellow lakelet, concentric ripples crossing and recrossing its oily surface. Silence here, save for the echoing plop of dripping water. He crossed the span, not daring to get close enough to the edge to look over. On the other side the light led him to the left along a narrow ledge, and then into a short tunnel. He emerged into another enormous room. This one was many-leveled, with galleries high up in the walls. The way led across the main floor, winding among weird rock formations. The moving light made the twisted forms around him writhe with life. Malformed faces silently howled at him, bony hands reached out.
Jacoby was out of shape, and out of breath. “Please,” he said to anyone who would hear. “I must stop … I must rest. Just for a moment.”
The moving pool of light stopped.
“Thank you, Holy One, thank you.” He chose a flat stone ledge and seated himself. He rested for two minutes, trying to control his breathing. Then he got up and pushed on. Toward the end of the chamber he encountered a wide pit and had to walk around it. As he did so, he looked in. Foul-smelling currents of air washed over him. At the bottom lay an odd configuration of tissuelike material, and he was nearly past it when he realized what it was: a huge mouth, black inhuman lips parted to reveal the ragged stumps of mottled, yellow teeth. Jacoby gave a yell and dashed away. A rumbling, snarling sound came from deep within the cavity.
Another tunnel brought him into a vast open area through which an underground river flowed, its dark waters silent, deep, and inexorably moving. A little way upstream a stone pier jutted out from shore. Jacoby walked to its end and stood, listening. Silence, except for the faint suck and gurgle of shore-lapping water. Before him the river extended to outer darkness. He could not see the other side.
He let out a long, eschatological sigh. Choosing one of the cylindrical stone mooring posts, he sat down and awaited Charon’s boat.
Lower Levels
Gene shook his head after hearing Osmirik’s story. “So she means to loose the dragon and rule the
