Gene laughed. “I thought you said you couldn’t make it back in the real world?”
“Well, maybe I did, and maybe I can’t. But it’s no big thing one way or the other. Actually I never really —”
Snowy was silenced by a horrible, blood-chilling yell that seemed to echo throughout the castle. They all stopped, stunned by the sound of it.
It took a few moments before any of them could speak. “My God,” Linda whispered, her face gone a bit gray. “Gene, what was it?”
“Uh … I hope I never find out. This way.”
Gene led them down a short hallway that made an L to the left. After peeking around the corner, he beckoned to his companions, and they followed him up another short corridor, passing a stairwell.
The horrible yowl came again, and this time it seemed to boom from around the corner ahead. They hastily backtracked and took the stairwell, which led up. But more strange cries assailed their ears up on the next floor, so they climbed six more flights until the sounds diminished.
Linda gasped, “Think … think we’re safe?”
“I dunno,” Gene said, a little out of breath.
More bellowing came to their ears, but from a distance.
“Maybe,” Gene said. “Whatever that is, I do not want to meet up with it.”
“You mean with them,” Sheila said. “It sounds like there are hundreds of them, all over.”
“I don’t want to think about that today,” Gene said airily. “After all, tomorrow is another day. I think.” He slapped himself on the face. “Shut up, you’re babbling.”
“I’m going nuts, too,” Linda said. “Gene, I’m scared. I want to get out of here.”
“Righto! We’ll take the first portal.” He looked around and gave a sardonic grunt. “Wouldn’t you know, when you
Sheila began, “I think … ” Then she trailed off.
They waited. Then Gene said, “What is it, Sheila?”
Sheila closed her eyes, holding her breath. She held it for a good fifteen seconds. Then she breathed out and opened her eyes, looking disappointed. “Thought I had it. For a second there, anyway.”
“Keep working on it. I’m for heading that way, folks, but if anyone has a better idea, I believe in democracy and the principle of one man, one vote. Or one being, one vote.”
Everyone accepted Gene’s autocracy and followed him down the dim corridor. They crept along, wary of every shadow, Sheila hanging on to a tuft of Snowy’s fur.
Gene saw something ahead and stopped, holding out a hand. A strange, hulking shadow lay across the floor, the thing it shadowed obviously standing just around the corner. The thing, whatever it was, stood motionless.
They flattened against the wall and froze. Sheila could hear her heart banging against her sternum like some wild frightened thing. She felt only numbness and an overwhelming sense that they would never get out of the castle alive. This was it; this was the end of her life. And she could not bring herself to be frightened.
Silence hung like a boulder precariously balanced. Then a rumbling murmur came from around the corner. It rose in pitch to become something far removed from a human voice yet somehow akin to it, eventually turning into an evil chuckling, a mocking laugh.
Then the form stepped out from behind the corner. The eyes of it were evil, and held them all. It raised its fiery sword.
Linda screamed. Gene’s hand went to his sword but he had trouble pulling it free, as if his arm had suddenly turned to rubber.
Snowy charged past and engaged the thing. Metal clashed and sparks flew. Snowy exchanged a few strokes with it before the blade of his longsword snapped in two, singing its distress as it glanced off the wall and clattered to the floor. The demon swung viciously and Snowy jumped, doing two quick backward somersaults before rolling to his feet. A long diagonal line of singed fur ran across his chest, wisps of smoke rising from it.
“Run, everybody!” Snowy yelled.
They needed no coaxing. Sheila ran as fast as she had ever run in her life, even passing up Snowclaw. A demonic howl came at their backs and sped them on.
It took some time to realize that the demon had stopped chasing them, possibly because the answering cry of one of his comrades came from up ahead. Two huge wooden doors lay at the end of an alcove to the left, and they all ducked through into a huge room full of books. One of the doors had a hole in it, looking to have been battered in. Gene and Snowy slammed the doors shut, then began piling heavy wooden tables in front of them, laying the first on its side to block the hole in the door.
Soon the pile of tables and chairs mounted beyond the top of the doors. Snowy was about to throw the last of the oak tables on top of the pile when there was a flash and the pile flew to splinters amid a shower of sparks. The smoke cleared, revealing two demons with fiery swords standing just outside the doorway. They bellowed triumphantly and jumped forward.
A huge steel door materialized in front of them, sealing off the entrance.
“That ought to hold the bastards!” Linda screamed, then burst into tears.
Gene held her, watching the door, listening to the loud banging sounds that had begun, coming from the other side.
“They’ll cut through that steel eventually,” he said.
“It’s two feet thick,” Linda said, drying her eyes. “Oh, Gene, they’re the evilest things in the world. Horrible, horrible —”
“They won’t get us, Linda. I promise. I won’t let them.”
They all backed away from the door. Sheila clung to Snowclaw, wanting to lose herself in the forest of his warm fur. She noticed the smell of burnt hair and ran her hand across the burn along his chest.
“Snowy, you’re hurt.”
“Nah, just got singed a little.”
More horrendous banging sounded, but the door seemed to be holding for the moment.
It hit Sheila suddenly. She couldn’t put it into words if she tried for a year, but something had happened. She understood the magic of the castle. It was like noticing a huge feature of the landscape for the first time, something so big and obvious that you wondered why you hadn’t noticed it before.
She let go of Snowclaw. “Gene! I have it figured out! I can summon the portal!”
Gene nodded understandingly. “Do so. Like, immediately.”
“Uh … oh. Yeah, sure!”
Sheila looked around. The library was huge. The main floor held rows and rows of open shelves stacked with books. There were more shelves spaced around the walls, interspersed with study nooks and carrels. Above were two stories of galleries, with more shelving and still more books. Other, smaller side rooms let off the main floor, and she crossed to one of these, stopping in front of the high pointed arch that formed its entrance. The arch would make a good frame for the edges of the portal.
Now all she had to do was summon the portal. Easy in principle, but now that she thought about it, her general knowledge of the castle’s magic would have to be refined and adapted for this particular job. It would take some time.
A fearful crash sounded, and the steel doors shook.
Sheila turned back to her task. She would have to learn her new magic
Twenty-seven
Estate
As Incarnadine, lord of the Western Pale, sprinted for the woods, he wondered which way of dying would be the quickest and least painful: being crushed to death under huge reptilian feet, being burned to char, or being eaten alive, torn apart in the maw of the gargantuan creature that was now chasing him. The question was
