THE JADE MAN’S EYES

(1973)

…Now there was a certain sorcerer of Pan Tang called Theleb K’aarna. Elric, whose vengeful emotions had already brought much grief to himself and others, bore a grudge against the sorcerer and spent three years in pursuit of him until he was at last tracked to Bakshaan, a city rich enough to make all the other cities of the North East seem poor, where, in a melancholy adventure, he was slain at last.

…Short-statured Moonglum, of the red-hair and wide grin, wanted to head south-east for the peaceful lands of Ilmiora, but Elric was drawn back to the Southern Continent where he spent the winter squandering his treasure in the cities of Argimiliar, seeking an impossible consolation…

—The Chronicle of the Black Sword

CHAPTER ONE

OF ALL THE cities of the Young Kingdoms the city named Chalal was deemed the most beautiful. Some said that it ranked with Imrryr, the Dreaming City of Melniboné, but those who had seen both said that Chalal’s beauty was more humane.

Chalal had been built on both banks of the river Cha which ran through the country of Pikarayd, laid out by a line of artist kings according to the original conception of Mornir the First. Its broad avenues were overlooked by monuments, statues and widely spaced buildings of singularly delicate architecture. White marble, polished granite and alabaster shone in the clear, bright air and there were fine lawns, gardens and evergreens, fountains and mazes, all designed by the greatest artists of the Young Kingdoms through many generations. Chalal was Pikarayd’s greatest treasure and for a long while the country had been pauperized to create it.

It happened that one springtime two strange men came to Chalal. They rode their weary Shazarian horses along the quays of marble and lapis lazuli beside the fast-flowing river. One was very tall, with a bone-white skin, crimson eyes and hair the colour of milk and he carried a huge, scabbarded broadsword at his side. The other was short with red hair and a sardonic expression on his face. He bore two swords, one of which was long and curved while its mate was scarcely bigger than a dagger.

Both the men had evidently been traveling for some time, for their clothes were dusty and their features grimed. They might have been unsuccessful merchants or mercenaries who were between wars. But some who saw them enter Chalal recognized the tall man and guessed who his companion was. Those who did recognize the newcomers did not greet their arrival with any pleasure for Elric of Melniboné was known as a murderer, a traitor and a killer of his own kin who brought horror and destruction wherever he went.

Moonglum of Elwher grinned as they passed a glowering face near one of the many lovely bridges which crossed the Cha.

“I do not think we are welcome here, Elric.”

Elric shrugged and gave a half smile. “Who can blame them for not wanting us here to disturb the tranquility of their city?”

Moonglum grinned through his mask of dust. “Mayhap they are willing to pay us to go elsewhere? Our purses sag like the stomachs of starved cows thanks to your extravagance. Chalal is said to be an expensive city. Every traveler must pay a tax towards the upkeep of all this beauty.”

“They’ll have trouble obtaining that tax from us. Come, let’s cross this bridge and seek a hostelry we can afford.”

They turned their horses and began to trot over a bridge of carved granite decorated with statues of Pikarayd’s mythical heroes.

They were almost halfway across when Moonglum pointed ahead. A company of horsemen were riding at great speed towards the bridge. They were clad in gilded armour and heavy white cloaks drifted out behind them. Their leader had a full helm with a crest of scarlet plumes. His visor was shut and completely hid his face. Politely, Moonglum and Elric drew their own horses aside to let the cavalry pass. The leader acknowledged this action with a salute as he went by and then jerked his helm round to regard Elric as if in recognition. Then the horsemen had ridden past and continued up a broad avenue between chestnut trees whose leaves had just begun to open.

“That knight must have seen you before,” Moonglum said. “By the style of his arms he was not of Chalal. I pray he’s not one of those who bears a grudge against you.”

“There are many such,” Elric said carelessly, “but none has ever managed to satisfy his vengeance.”

“They would be fools to try while you bear the Black Sword.”

“Aye.” Elric sighed and pretended to take an interest in the workmanship of an archway under which they now rode.

         

They spent the next several hours in searching for an inn but could not find one they could afford for even one night. There were no poor quarters in Chalal, no hostelries which catered for those with little money. Their enquiries revealed that the nearest township was a good two days’ ride away.

Night fell and Moonglum’s expression grew increasingly downcast.

“We must find an income, friend Elric,” he said. “Could you not magic us a treasure?”

“I have no skill in such conjurings,” Elric replied absently.

“Then we must seek employment. Merchants come and go from here. Perhaps they would pay us to protect their caravans. If we want to quarter where the traders stay we might…”

“Do what you will, Moonglum.” Elric dismounted from his horse and led it towards a great marble monument that had been erected upon a lawn of small, white flowers. The horse began to crop at the flowers and Elric settled himself with his back at the base of the monument. “I’ll sleep here. The night is warm enough.” He wrapped his weather-stained cloak about him and closed his eyes.

Moonglum knew that it was impossible to talk to his friend when he sank into one of these moods. He hesitated for a moment, and then rode off towards the river.

         

The night grew colder and Elric awoke shivering from a dark dream. Clouds had covered the moon and it was hard to see more than a few feet in any direction. He got up and stretched his arms. Then he saw the lights. There were about a dozen of them bobbing along the road towards him. He leaned against the monument and watched them with curiosity. He soon saw that the lights were lanterns carried by horsemen dressed in leather caps and jerkins, bearing oval shields, swords and staves. When they saw Elric they dismounted and approached him in a body, opening their lanterns so that light fell upon him.

The leader peered at Elric whose face was hidden in the cowl of his cloak.

“What do you here, stranger?”

“I was attempting to sleep,” Elric replied. “But you and your weather have prevented that between you.”

“Why do you not sleep in one of the hostelries yonder?”

“Because I cannot afford their prices,” Elric said reasonably.

“Have you paid the Traveler’s Tax?”

“I have not.”

The leader had a red, belligerent face and now it frowned deeply. “Then you have broken two of Chalal’s few laws already and doubtless there are others you have broken which we shall yet discover.”

“Doubtless. Now be about your business, friend, and I will attempt to continue my sleep.”

“You are addressing an official of the Watch,” said the man pursing his lips. “It is my duty to collect the Traveler’s Tax and to arrest vagrants who offend the eye of those who come to look upon Chalal’s beauty.”

“I would advise you to forget your duty in this instance,” Elric said softly. “I care nothing for the laws of mankind and these laws of yours seem of even smaller importance than most. Begone!”

“By Valsaq, you’re impertinent! I’m a tolerant man. I might even have had mercy on you if you had agreed to leave at once. But now…”

Elric pushed back his cloak and put his hand on Stormbringer’s hilt. The sword stirred slightly. “I tell you to go,” he said grimly. “You will surely die if I draw this blade!”

The captain of the Watch smiled and indicated the dozen men behind him. “Do not be foolish, stranger. Your penalty will be light if you suffer us to arrest you without resort to our swords. But if you should kill one of us you will be imprisoned for life, working in the masons’ yards dragging great stones hither and yon with a whip to make you work harder…”

“I will kill all of you if this sword’s unsheathed,” Elric promised. “Know you that I am Prince Elric of Melniboné and I bear the Black Sword!”

The captain’s red face blanched. Then he straightened his shoulders. “Nonetheless I must perform my duty. Men—”

“What is this undignified altercation? Captain, are you aware that you address my friend, Prince Elric?”

The captain turned, evidently in relief to stare at the newcomer who had just ridden up. He was a man of about forty with a square, handsome face, dressed in gilded armour over which was arranged a white cloak. A helm crested with scarlet feathers was on his head. It was the man who had recognized Elric earlier that day. But Elric had never seen him before.

“He cannot pay the Traveler’s Tax, my lord,” the captain said weakly. “I had no choice but to…”

The horseman drew a small purse from his belt and flung it to land at the captain’s feet. “There is the tax—and more.”

The captain of the Watch bent and picked up the purse. He opened it and peered inside. “Thank you, my lord. Come, men.” Hastily he backed away and returned to where he had left his horse. The Watch rode off leaving Elric looking at the man in gilded armour who smiled at the albino’s surprise.

“I thank you, sir,” said Elric. “I had no wish to kill them. But…”

The knight gestured towards Elric’s horse. “Will you mount and ride with me? I would be honoured if you would be my guest for this night.”

“I am not one who seeks charity, sir.”

“I know that, my lord. It is I who seek your aid. I have been searching for you for several months.”

“What is the nature of the aid you desire?”

“Perhaps you will allow me to explain that over a meal at the house I have taken in Chalal. It is not too far distant.”

Elric liked the look of the man and responded to his courtesy. “Thank you,” he said. “I would be grateful.” He went to his horse and mounted it. Then they rode off together down the avenue until they came at last to a house with a low wall that was covered in vines of several different hues. They passed through a gate and in the courtyard a groom took their steeds. They entered a door, walked along a short passage and came to a warm, well-lit room where a table had been laid for a meal. Somewhere food was cooking and the smell made Elric realize how little he had eaten recently. At the table one man was already seated. He grinned when he saw Elric and he got up.

“Moonglum!”

“Greetings, Elric. Our host’s men sought me out as I haggled with a merchant who seemed unaware of the danger his caravan would face if unprotected by us. I told him where I thought he might find you. I am glad he discovered you so swiftly. I have been waiting to eat for an hour!”

The knight handed his helmet to a servant and other servants began to divest him of his breastplate and greaves, handing him a loose, brocade robe which he put on.

As they seated themselves he said, “I am Duke Avan Astran of Old Hrolmar in Vilmir.”

“I have heard of you, my lord.” Elric helped himself to the salad offered him by a servant. Duke Avan Astran was known as a great adventurer whose journeyings across the world had made his city rich. “You are famous for your travels.”

Duke Avan smiled. “Aye. I have explored most of the world. I have been to your own Melniboné and I have ventured east, to Master Moonglum’s lands—to Elwher and the Unknown Kingdoms. I have been to Myyrrhn, where the Winged Folk live. I have traveled as far as World’s Edge and hope one day to go beyond. But I have never crossed the Boiling Sea and I know only a small stretch of coast along the Western Continent that has no name. You have been there, I believe?”

“I was there once, when the sea-lords made their fateful massing, but I have not been there since.”

“Would you go there?”

“There is nothing to make me wish to do so.”

From across the table Elric glanced at Moonglum’s face which had suddenly become alert, almost worried. He looked at Duke Avan’s expression and tried to decipher it. He returned his attention to his food.

“You have never explored the interior of the Western Continent?” Duke Avan continued.

“No.”

“And yet you know there is some evidence that your own ancestors originally came from that mainland?”

“Evidence? A few legends, that is all.”

“One of those legends speaks of a city older than dreaming Imrryr. A city that still exists in the deep jungles of the West.”

“You mean R’lin K’ren A’a?” Elric pretended a lack of interest he no longer felt.

“Aye. A strange name. You pronounce it more fluently than could I.”

“It means simply ‘Where the High Ones Meet’ in the ancient speech of Melniboné.”

“So I have read.”

“And,” Elric cut into veal in a rich, sweet sauce, “it does not exist.”

“It is marked on a map I have.”

Deliberately, Elric chewed his meat and swallowed it. “The map is doubtless a forgery.”

“Perhaps. Do you recall anything else of the legend of R’lin K’ren A’a?”

“There is the story of the Creature Doomed to Live.” Elric pushed the food aside and poured wine for himself. “The city is said to have received its name because the Lords of the Higher Worlds once met there to decide the rules of the Cosmic Struggle. They were overheard by the one inhabitant of the city who had not flown when they came. When they discovered him, they doomed him to remain alive for ever, carrying the frightful knowledge in his head…”

“I have heard that story, too. But the one that interests me is that the inhabitants of R’lin K’ren A’a never returned to their city. Instead they struck northward and crossed the sea. Some reached an island we now call Sorcerers’ Isle while others went further—blown by a great storm—and came at length to a large island inhabited by dragons whose venom caused all it touched to burn…to Melniboné, in fact.”

“And you wish to test the truth of that story. Your interest is that of a scholar?”

Duke Avan laughed. “Partly. But my main interest in R’lin K’ren A’a is more materialistic. For your ancestors left a great treasure behind them when they fled their city. Particularly they abandoned an image of Arioch, the Lord of Chaos—a monstrous image, carved in jade, whose eyes were two huge, identical gems of a kind unknown anywhere else in all the lands of the Earth. Jewels from another plane of existence. Jewels which could reveal all the secrets of the Higher Worlds, of the past and the future, of the myriad planes of the cosmos…”

“All cultures have similar legends. Wishful thinking, Duke Avan, that is all…”

“But the Melnibonéans had a culture unlike any others. The Melnibonéans are not true men, as you well know. Their powers are superior, their knowledge far greater…”

“It was once thus,” Elric said. “But that great power and knowledge is not mine. I have only a fragment of it…”

“I did not seek you in Bakshaan and later in Jadmar because I believed you could verify what I have heard. I did not cross the sea to Filkhar, then to Argimiliar and at last to Pikarayd because I thought you would instantly confirm all that I have spoken of—I sought you because I think you the only man who would wish to accompany me on a voyage which would give us the truth or falsehood to these legends once and for all.”

Elric tilted his head and drained his wine-cup.

“Cannot you do that for yourself? Why should you desire my company on the expedition? From what I have heard of you, Duke Avan, you are not one who needs support in his venturings…”

Duke Avan laughed. “I went alone to Elwher when my men deserted me in the Weeping Waste. It is not in my nature to know physical fear. But I have survived my travels this long because I have shown proper foresight and caution before setting off. Now it seems I must face dangers I cannot anticipate—sorcery, perhaps. It struck me, therefore, that I needed an ally who had some experience of fighting sorcery. And since I would have no truck with the ordinary kind of wizard such as Pan Tang spawns, you were my only choice. You are a wanderer, Prince Elric, just as I am. You were a wanderer before Imrryr fell as well as after. Indeed, if it had not been for your yearning to travel, your cousin would never have usurped the Ruby Throne of Melniboné while you were absent…”

“Enough of that,” Elric said bitterly. “Let’s talk of this expedition. Where is the map?”

“You will accompany me?”

“Show me the map.”

Duke Avan drew a scroll from his pouch. “Here it is.”

“Where did you find it?”

“On Melniboné.”

“You have been there recently?” Elric felt anger rise in him.

Duke Avan raised a hand. “Many have come and gone amongst the ruins of Imrryr since she fell, my lord. Most sought treasure. I sought, in that particular case, knowledge. I found a casket which had been sealed, it seemed, for an eternity. Within that casket was this map.” He spread out the scroll on the table. Elric recognized the style and the script—the old High Speech of Melniboné. It was a map of part of the Western Continent—more than he had ever seen on any other map. It showed a great river winding into the interior for a hundred miles or more. The river appeared to flow through a jungle and then divide into two rivers which later rejoined. The “island” of land thus formed had a black circle marked on it. Against this circle, in the involved writing of ancient Melniboné, was the name R’lin K’ren A’a. Elric inspected the scroll carefully. It did not seem to be a forgery.

“Is this all you found?” he asked.

“The scroll was sealed and this was embedded in the seal,” Duke Avan said, handing something to Elric.

Elric held the object in his palm. It was a tiny ruby of a red so deep as to seem black at first, but when he turned it into the light he saw an image at the centre of the ruby and he recognized that image. He frowned, then he said, “I will agree to your proposal, Duke Avan. Will you let me keep this?”

“Do you know what it is?”

“No. But I should like to find out. There is a memory somewhere in my mind…”

“Very well, take it. I will keep the map.”

“When did you have it in mind to set off?”

“We’ll ride to the coast tomorrow. My ship awaits us. From there we sail round the southern coast to the Boiling Sea.”

“There are few who have returned from that ocean,” Elric murmured sardonically. He glanced across the table and saw that Moonglum was imploring with his eyes for Elric not to have any part of Duke Avan’s scheme. Elric smiled at his friend. “The adventure is to my taste.”

Miserably, Moonglum shrugged.

CHAPTER TWO

The coast of Lormyr disappeared in warm mist and the Vilmirian schooner dipped its graceful prow towards the west and the Boiling Sea.

Only once before had Elric ventured into this sea and then he had flown high above it on a bird of gold and silver and brass, seeking the bleak island on which stood the magical palace of Ashaneloon—Myshella’s palace. Standing on the poop deck Elric stared ahead into the writhing mist and tried not to think of Myshella and the dreams and emotions she had awakened within him. He wiped sweat from his face and turned to see Moonglum’s worried countenance.

“You still keep patience with me, Master Moonglum. Your warnings are always well-founded and yet I never heed them. I wonder why that is.”

Moonglum raised his gloomy eyes to regard the taut sails of the schooner. “Because you desire danger as other men desire love-making or drinking—for in danger you find forgetfulness.”

“Do I? Few of the dangers we have faced together have helped me forget. Rather they have strengthened my memories, improved the quality of my sorrow…” Elric drew a deep, melancholy breath. “I go where danger is because I think that an answer might lie there—some reason for all this tragedy and paradox. Yet I know I shall never find it.”

“Yet that is why you sail to R’lin K’ren A’a, is it not? You hope that your remote ancestors had the answer you want?”

“R’lin K’ren A’a is a myth. Even should the map prove genuine what shall we find but a few ruins? Imrryr has stood for ten thousand years and she was built at least two centuries after my people settled on Melniboné. Time will have taken R’lin K’ren A’a away.”

“And the Jade Man?”

“If the statue ever existed, it could have been looted at any time in the past hundred centuries.”

“And the Creature Doomed to Live?”

“A myth.”

“But you hope that it is all as Duke Avan says…?”

“No, Moonglum. I fear that it is all as he says.”

         

The wind blew whimsically and the schooner’s passage was slow as the heat grew greater and the crew sweated and murmured fearfully. And upon each face was a stricken look. Only Duke Avan seemed to retain his confidence. He called to his men to take heart, that they should all be rich soon and he gave orders for the oars to be unshipped and the men stripped down to man them, revealing skins as red as those of a cooked lobster. Duke Avan made a joke of that. The Vilmirians did not laugh.

Around the ship the sea bubbled and roared, and they navigated by their crude instruments alone, for the steam obscured everything. Once a green thing erupted from the sea and glared at them before disappearing.

They ate and slept little and Elric rarely left the poop deck. Moonglum bore the heat silently and Duke Avan went about the ship encouraging his men, seemingly oblivious of the discomfort.

“After all,” he pointed out to Moonglum, “we are only crossing the outer reaches of the sea. Think what it must be like at the middle.”

“I would rather not. I fear I’ll be boiled to death before another day has passed.”

“Nonsense, friend Moonglum, the steam is good for you. There is nothing healthier!” Duke Avan stretched seemingly with pleasure. “It cleans all the poisons from the system.”

Moonglum offered him a withering look and Avan laughed. “Be of better cheer, Master Moonglum. According to my charts—such as they are—a couple of days will see us nearing the coasts of the Western Continent.”

“The thought fails to raise my spirits very greatly,” Moonglum said and went to find his cabin.

         

But shortly thereafter the sea grew slowly less frenetic and the steam began to disperse and the heat became more tolerable until at last they emerged into a calm ocean beneath a blue sky in which hung the golden sun. The spirits of the crew rose and they buried the three men who had succumbed on a little yellow island where they found fruit and a spring of fresh water. While they lay at anchor off the island Duke Avan called Elric to his cabin and showed him the ancient map.

“See! This island is marked there. The map’s scale seems reasonably accurate. Another three days and we shall be at the mouth of the river.”

Elric nodded. “But it would be wise to rest here for a while until our strength is fully restored and the morale of the crew is raised higher. There are reasons, after all, why men have avoided the jungles of the West over the centuries.”

“Certainly there are savages there—some say they are not even human—but I’m confident we can deal with those dangers. I have much experience of strange territories, Prince Elric.”

“But you said yourself you feared other dangers.”

“True. Very well, we’ll do as you suggest.”

         

On the fourth day a strong wind began to blow from the east and they raised anchor. The schooner leaped over the waves under only half her canvas and the crew saw this as a good omen.

“They are mindless fools,” Moonglum said as they stood clinging to the rigging in the prow. “The time will come when they will wish they were suffering the cleaner hardships of the Boiling Sea. This journey, Elric, will benefit none of us, even if the riches of R’lin K’ren A’a are still there.”

But Elric did not answer. He was lost in strange thoughts, unusual thoughts for him, for he was remembering his childhood, the mother he had never known and his father. They had been the last true rulers of the Bright Empire—proud, insouciant, cruel. They had expected him—perhaps because of his strange albinism—to restore the glories of Melniboné. Instead he had destroyed what was left of that glory. They, like himself, had had no real place in this new age of the Young Kingdoms, but had refused to acknowledge it. This journey to the Western Continent, to the land of his ancestors, had a peculiar attraction for him. Here no new nations had emerged. The continent had, as far as he knew, remained the same since R’lin K’ren A’a had been abandoned. The jungles would be the jungles his folk had known, the land would be the land that had given birth to his peculiar race, moulded the character of its people with their sombre pleasures, their melancholy arts and their dark delights. Had his ancestors felt this agony of knowledge, this impotence in the face of the understanding that existence had no point, no purpose, no hope? Was this why they had built their civilization in that particular pattern, why they had disdained the more placid, spiritual values of mankind’s philosophers? He knew that many of the intellectuals of the Young Kingdoms pitied the powerful folk of Melniboné as mad. But if they had been mad and if they had imposed a madness upon the world that had lasted a hundred centuries, what had made them so? Perhaps the secret did lie in R’lin K’ren A’a—not in any tangible form but in the ambiance created by the dark jungles and the deep, old rivers. Perhaps here, at last, he would be able to feel at one with himself.

He ran his fingers through his milk-white hair and there was a kind of innocent anguish in his crimson eyes. He was the last of his kind and yet he was unlike his kind. Moonglum had been wrong. Elric knew that everything that existed had its opposite. In danger he might find peace. And yet, of course, in peace there was danger. Being an imperfect creature in an imperfect world he would always know paradox. And that was why in paradox there was always a kind of truth. That was why philosophers and soothsayers flourished. In a perfect world there would be no place for them. In an imperfect world the mysteries were always without solution and that was why there was always a great choice of solutions.

It was on the morning of the third day that the coast was sighted and the schooner steered her way through the sandbanks of the great delta and anchored, at last, at the mouth of the dark and nameless river.

CHAPTER THREE

Evening came and the sun began to set over the black outlines of the massive trees. A rich, ancient smell came from the jungle and through the twilight echoed the cries of strange birds and beasts. Elric was impatient to begin the quest up the river. Sleep—never welcome—was now impossible to achieve. He stood unmoving on the deck, his eyes hardly blinking, his brain barely active, as if expecting something to happen to him. The rays of the sun stained his face and threw black shadows over the deck and then it was dark and still under the moon and the stars. He wanted the jungle to absorb him. He wanted to be one with the trees and the shrubs and the creeping beasts. He wanted thought to disappear. He drew the heavily scented air into his lungs as if that alone would make him become what at that moment he desired to be. The drone of insects became a murmuring voice that called him into the heart of the old, old forest. And yet he could not move—could not answer. And at length Moonglum came up on deck and touched his shoulder and said something and passively he went below to his bunk and wrapped himself in his cloak and lay there, still listening to the voice of the jungle.

         

Even Duke Avan seemed in a more introspective mood than usual when they upped anchor the next morning and began to row against the sluggish current. There were few gaps in the foliage above their heads and they had the impression that they were entering a huge, gloomy tunnel, leaving the sunlight behind with the sea. Bright plants twined among the vines that hung from the leafy canopy and caught in the ship’s masts as they moved. Ratlike animals with long arms swung through the branches and peered at them with bright, knowing eyes. The river turned and the sea was no longer in sight. Shafts of sunlight filtered down to the deck and the light had a greenish tinge to it. Elric became more alert than he had ever been since he agreed to accompany Duke Avan. He took a keen interest in every detail of the jungle and the black river over which moved schools of insects like agitated clouds of mist and in which blossoms drifted like drops of blood in ink. Everywhere were rustlings, sudden squawks, barks and wet noises made by fish or river animals as they hunted the prey disturbed by the ship’s oars which cut into the great clumps of weed and sent the things that hid there scurrying. The others began to complain of insect bites, but Elric was not troubled by them, perhaps because no insect could desire his deficient blood.

Duke Avan passed him on the deck. The Vilmirian slapped at his forehead. “You seem more cheerful, Prince Elric.”

Elric smiled absently. “Perhaps I am.”

“I must admit I personally find all this a bit oppressive. I’ll be glad when we reach the city.”

“You are still convinced you’ll find it?”

“I’ll be convinced otherwise when I’ve explored every inch of the island we’re bound for.”

So absorbed had he become in the atmosphere of the jungle that Elric was hardly aware of the ship or his companions. The ship beat very slowly up the river, moving at little more than walking speed.

A few days passed, but Elric scarcely noticed, for the jungle did not change—and then the river widened and the canopy parted and the wide, hot sky was suddenly full of huge birds crowding upwards as the ship disturbed them. All but Elric were pleased to be under the open sky again and spirits rose. Elric went below.

The attack on the ship came almost immediately. There was a whistling noise and a scream and a sailor writhed and fell over clutching at a grey, thin semi-circle of something which had buried itself in his stomach. An upper yard came crashing to the deck, bringing sail and rigging with it. A headless body took four paces towards the poop deck before collapsing, the blood pumping from the obscene hole that was its neck. And everywhere was the thin whistling noise. Elric heard the sounds from below and came back instantly, buckling on his sword. The first face he saw was Moonglum’s. The red-haired man looked terrified and was crouching against a rail on the starboard side. Elric had the impression of grey blurs whistling past, slashing into flesh and rigging, wood and canvas. Some fell on the deck and he saw that they were thin discs of crystalline rock, about a foot in diameter. They were being hurled from both banks of the river and there was no protection against them.

He tried to see who was throwing the discs and glimpsed something moving in the trees along the right bank. Then the discs ceased suddenly and there was a pause before some of the sailors dashed across the deck to seek better cover. Duke Avan suddenly appeared in the stern. He had unsheathed his sword.

“Get below. Get your bucklers and any armour you can find. Bring bows. Arm yourselves, men, or you’re finished.”

And as he spoke their attackers broke from the trees and began to wade into the water. No more discs came and it seemed likely they had exhausted their supply.

“By Chardros!” Avan gasped. “Are these real creatures or some sorcerer’s conjurings?”

The things were essentially reptilian but with feathery crests and neck wattles, though their faces were almost human. Their forelegs were like the arms and hands of men, but their hindlegs were incredibly long and storklike. Balanced on these legs, their bodies towered over the water. They carried great clubs in which slits had been cut and doubtless these were what they used to hurl the crystalline discs. Staring at their faces, Elric was horrified. In some subtle way they reminded him of the characteristic faces of his own folk—the folk of Melniboné. Were these creatures his cousins? Or were they a species from which his people had evolved? He stopped asking the questions as an intense hatred for the creatures filled him. They were obscene: sight of them brought bile into his throat. Without thinking, he drew Stormbringer from its sheath.

The Black Sword began to howl and the familiar black radiance spilled from it. The runes carved into its blade pulsed a vivid scarlet which turned slowly to a deep purple and then to black once more.

The creatures were wading through the water on their stiltlike legs and they paused when they saw the sword, glancing at one another. And they were not the only ones unnerved by the sight, for Duke Avan and his men paled, too.

“Gods!” Avan yelled. “I know not which I prefer the look of—those who attack us or that which defends us!”

“Stay well away from that sword,” Moonglum warned. “It has the habit of killing those its master likes best.”

And now the reptilian savages were upon them, clutching at the ship’s rails as the armed sailors rushed back on deck to meet the attack.

Clubs came at Elric from all sides, but Stormbringer shrieked and parried each blow. He held the sword in both hands, whirling it this way and that, ploughing great gashes in the scaly bodies.

The creatures hissed and opened red mouths in agony and rage while their thick, black blood sank into the waters of the river. Although from the legs upward they were only slightly larger than a tall, well-built man, they had more vitality than any human and the deepest cuts hardly seemed to affect them, even when administered by Stormbringer. Elric was astonished at this resistance to the sword’s power. Often a nick was enough for the sword to draw a man’s soul from him. These things seemed immune. Perhaps they had no souls…

He fought on, his hatred giving him strength.

But elsewhere on the ship the sailors were being routed. Rails were torn off and the great clubs crushed planks and brought down more rigging. The savages were intent on destroying the ship as well as the crew. And there was little doubt, now, that they would be successful.

Avan shouted to Elric, “By the names of all the gods, Prince Elric, can you not summon some further sorcery? We are doomed else!”

Elric knew Avan spoke truth. All around him the ship was being gradually pulled apart by the hissing reptilian creatures. Most of them had sustained horrible wounds from the defenders, but only one or two had collapsed. Elric began to suspect that they did, in fact, fight supernatural enemies.

He backed away and sought shelter beneath a half-crushed doorway as he tried to concentrate on a method of calling upon supernatural aid.

He was panting with exhaustion and he clung to a beam as the ship rocked back and forth in the water. He fought to clear his head.

And then the incantation came to him. He was not sure if it was appropriate, but it was the only one he could recall. His ancestors had made pacts, thousands of years before, with all the elementals who controlled the animal world. In the past he had summoned help from various of these spirits but never from the one he now sought to call. From his mouth began to issue the ancient, beautiful and convoluted words of Melniboné’s High Speech.

“King with Wings! Lord of all that work and are not seen, upon whose labours all else depends! Nnuuurrrr’c’c of the Insect Folk, I summon thee!”

Save for the motion of the ship, Elric ceased to be aware of all else happening around him. The sounds of the fight dimmed and were heard no more as he sent his voice out beyond his plane of the Earth into another—the plane dominated by King Nnuuurrrr’c’c of the Insects, paramount lord of his people.

In his ears now Elric heard a buzzing and gradually the buzzing formed itself in words.

“Who art thou, mortal? What right hast thee to summon me?”

“I am Elric, last ruler of Melniboné. My ancestors aided thee, Nnuuurrrr’c’c.”

“Aye—but long ago.”

“And it is long ago that they last called on thee for thine aid!”

“True. What aid dost thou now require, Elric of Melniboné?”

“Look upon my plane. Thou wilt see that I am in danger. Canst thou abolish this danger, friend of the Insects?”

Now a filmy shape formed and could be seen as if through several layers of cloudy silk. Elric tried to keep his eyes upon it, but it kept leaving his field of vision and then returning for a few moments. He knew that he looked into another plane of the Earth.

“Canst thou help me, Nnuuurrrr’c’c?”

“Hast thou no patron of thine own species? Some Lord of Chaos who can aid thee?”

“My patron is Arioch and he is a temperamental demon at best. These days he aids me little.”

“Then I must send thee allies, mortal. But call upon me no more when this is done.”

“I shall not summon thee again, Nnuuurrrr’c’c.”

The layers of film disappeared and with them the shape.

The noise of the battle crashed once again on Elric’s consciousness and he heard with sharper clarity than before the screams of the sailors and the hissing of the reptilian savages and when he looked out from his shelter he saw that at least half the crew were dead.

As he came on deck Moonglum rushed up. “I thought you slain, Elric! What became of you?” He was plainly relieved to see his friend still lived.

“I sought aid from another plane—but it does not seem to have materialized.”

“I’m thinking we’re doomed and had best try to swim downstream away from here and seek a hiding place in the jungle,” Moonglum said.

“What of Duke Avan? Is he dead?”

“He lives. But those creatures are all but impervious to our weapons. This ship will sink ere long.” Moonglum lurched as the deck tilted and he reached out to grab a trailing rope, letting his long sword dangle by its wrist-thong. “They are not attacking the stern at present. We can slip into the water there…”

“I made a bargain with Duke Avan,” Elric reminded the Eastlander. “I cannot desert him.”

“Then we’ll all perish!”

“What’s that?” Elric bent his head, listening intently.

“I hear nothing.”

It was a whine which deepened in tone until it became a drone. Now Moonglum heard it also and looked about him, seeking the source of the sound. And suddenly he gasped, pointing upward. “Is that the aid you sought?”

There was a vast cloud of them, black against the blue of the sky. Every so often the sun would flash on a colour—a rich blue, green, or red. They came spiraling down towards the ship and now both sides fell silent, staring skyward.

The flying things were like huge dragonflies and the brightness and richness of their colouring was breathtaking. It was their wings which made the droning sound which now began to increase in loudness and heighten in pitch as the huge insects sped nearer.

Realizing that they were the object of the attack the reptile men stumbled backwards on their long legs, trying to reach the shore before the gigantic insects were upon them.

But it was too late for flight.

The dragonflies settled on the savages until nothing could be seen of their bodies. The hissing increased and sounded almost pitiful as the insects bore their victims down to the surface and then inflicted on them whatever terrible death it was. Perhaps they stung with their tails—it was not possible for the watchers to see.

Sometimes a storklike leg would emerge from the water and thrash in the air for a moment. But soon, just as the reptiles were covered by the insect bodies, so were their cries drowned by the strange and blood-chilling humming that arose on all sides.

A sweating Duke Avan, sword still in hand, ran up the deck. “Is this your doing, Prince Elric?”

Elric looked on with satisfaction, but the others were plainly disgusted. “It was,” he said.

“Then I thank you for your aid. This ship is holed in a dozen places and is letting in water at a terrible rate. It’s a wonder we have not yet sunk. I’ve given orders to begin rowing and I hope we make it to the island in time.” He pointed upstream. “There, you can just see it.”

“What if there are more of those savages there?” Moonglum asked.

Avan smiled grimly, indicating the further shore. “Look.” On their peculiar legs a dozen or more of the reptiles were fleeing into the jungle, having witnessed the fate of their comrades. “They’ll be reluctant to attack us again, I think.”

Now the huge dragonflies were rising into the air again and Avan turned away as he glimpsed what they had left behind. “By the gods, you work fierce sorcery, Prince Elric! Ugh!”

Elric smiled and shrugged. “It is effective, Duke Avan.” He sheathed his runesword. It seemed reluctant to enter the scabbard and it moaned as if in resentment.

Moonglum glanced at it. “That blade will want to feast soon, Elric, whether you desire it or not.”

“Doubtless it will find something to feed on in the forest,” said the albino. He stepped over a piece of broken mast and went below.

Moonglum looked at the new scum on the surface of the water and he shuddered.

CHAPTER FOUR

The wrecked schooner was almost awash when the crew clambered overboard with lines and began the task of dragging it up the mud that formed the banks of the island. Before them was a wall of foliage that seemed impenetrable. Moonglum followed Elric, lowering himself into the shallows. They began to wade ashore.

As they left the water and set foot on the hard, baked earth, Moonglum stared at the forest. No wind moved the trees and a peculiar silence had descended. No birds called from the trees, no insects buzzed, there were none of the barks and cries of animals they had heard on their journey upriver.

“Those supernatural friends of yours seem to have frightened more than the savages away,” Moonglum murmured. “This place seems lifeless.”

Elric nodded. “It is strange.”

Duke Avan joined them. He had discarded his finery—ruined in the fight, anyway—and now wore a padded leather jerkin and doeskin breeks. His sword was at his side. “We’ll have to leave most of our men behind with the ship,” he said regretfully. “They’ll make what repairs they can while we press on to find R’lin K’ren A’a.” He drew his light cloak about him. “Is it my imagination, or is there an odd atmosphere?”

“We have already remarked on it,” Moonglum said. “Life seems to have fled the island.”

Duke Avan grinned. “If all we face is as timid, we have nothing further to fear. I must admit, Prince Elric, that if I had wished you harm and then seen you conjure those monsters from thin air, I’d think twice about getting too close to you! Thank you, by the way, for what you did. We should have perished by now if it had not been for you.”

“It was for my aid that you asked me to accompany you,” Elric said wearily. “Let’s eat and rest and then continue with our expedition.”

A shadow passed over Duke Avan’s face then. Something in Elric’s manner had disturbed him.

         

Entering the jungle was no easy matter. Armed with axes the six members of the crew (all that could be spared) began to hack at the undergrowth. And still the unnatural silence prevailed…

By nightfall they were less than half a mile into the forest and completely exhausted. The forest was so thick that there was barely room to pitch their tent. The only light in the camp came from the small, sputtering fire outside the tent. The crewmen slept where they could in the open.

Elric could not sleep, but now it was not the jungle which kept him awake. He was puzzled by the silence, for he was sure that it was not their presence which had driven all life away. There was not a single small rodent, bird or insect anywhere to be seen. There were no traces of animal life. The island had been deserted by all but vegetation for a long while—perhaps for centuries or tens of centuries. He remembered another part of the old legend of R’lin K’ren A’a. It had been said that when the gods came to meet there not only the citizens fled, but also all the wildlife. Nothing had dared see the High Lords or listen to their conversation. Elric shivered, turning his white head this way and that on the rolled cloak that supported it, his crimson eyes tortured. If there were dangers on this island, they would be subtler dangers than those they had faced on the river.

The noise of their passage through the forest was the only sound to be heard on the island as they forced their way on the next morning.

With lodestone in one hand and map in the other, Duke Avan Astran sought to guide them, directing his men where to cut their path. But the going became even slower and it was obvious that no creatures had come this way for many ages.

By the fourth day they had reached a natural clearing of flat volcanic rock and found a spring there. Gratefully they made camp. Elric began to wash his face in the cool water when he heard a yell behind him. He sprang up. One of the crewmen was reaching for an arrow and fitting it to his bow.

“What is it?” Duke Avan called.

“I saw something, my lord!”

“Nonsense, there are no—”

“Look!” The man drew back the string and let fly into the upper terraces of the forest. Something did seem to stir then and Elric thought he saw a flash of grey among the trees.

“Did you see what kind of creature it was?” Moonglum asked the man.

“No, master. I feared at first it was those reptiles again.”

“They’re too frightened to follow us onto this island,” Duke Avan reassured him.

“I hope you’re right,” Moonglum said nervously.

“Then what could it have been?” Elric wondered.

“I—I thought it was a man, master,” the crewman stuttered.

Elric stared thoughtfully into the trees. “A man?”

Moonglum knew his friend well. “You were hoping for this, Elric?”

“I am not sure…”

Duke Avan shrugged. “More likely the shadow of a cloud passing over the trees. According to my calculations we should have reached the city by now.”

“You think, after all, that it does not exist?” Elric said.

“I am beginning not to care, Prince Elric.” The duke leaned against the bole of a huge tree, brushing aside a vine which touched his face. “Still there’s naught else to do. The ship won’t be ready to sail yet.” He looked up into the branches. “I did not think I should miss those damned insects that plagued us on our way here…”

The crewman who had shot the arrow suddenly shouted again. “There! I saw him! It is a man!”

While the others stared but failed to discern anything Duke Avan continued to lean against the tree. “You saw nothing. There is nothing here to see.”

Elric turned towards him. “Give me the map and the lodestone, Duke Avan. I have a feeling I can find the way.”

The Vilmirian shrugged, an expression of doubt on his square, handsome face. He handed the things over to Elric.

They rested the night and in the morning they continued, with Elric leading the way.

And at noon they broke out of the forest and saw the ruins of R’lin K’ren A’a.

CHAPTER FIVE

Nothing grew among the ruins of the city. The streets were broken and the walls of the houses had fallen, but there were no weeds flowering in the cracks and it seemed that the city had but recently been brought down by an earthquake. Only one thing still stood intact, towering over the ruins. It was a gigantic statue of white, grey and green jade—the statue of a naked youth with a face of almost feminine beauty that turned sightless eyes towards the north.

“The eyes!” Duke Avan Astran said. “They’re gone!”

The others said nothing as they stared at the statue and the ruins surrounding it. The area was relatively small and the buildings had had little decoration. The inhabitants seemed to have been a simple, well-to-do folk—totally unlike the Melnibonéans of the Bright Empire. Elric could not believe that the people of R’lin K’ren A’a had been his ancestors. They had been too sane.

“The statue’s already been looted,” Duke Avan continued. “Our damned journey’s been in vain!”

Elric laughed. “Did you really think you would be able to prise the Jade Man’s eyes from their sockets, my lord?”

The statue was as tall as any tower of the Dreaming City and the head alone must have been the size of a reasonably large building. Duke Avan pursed his lips and refused to listen to Elric’s mocking voice. “We may yet find the journey worth our while,” he said. “There were other treasures in R’lin K’ren A’a. Come…”

He led the way into the city.

Very few of the buildings were even partially standing, but they were nonetheless fascinating if only for the peculiar nature of their building materials, which were of a kind the travelers had never seen before.

The colours were many, but faded by time—soft reds and yellows and blues—and they flowed together to make almost infinite combinations.

Elric reached out to touch one wall and was surprised at the cool feel of the smooth material. It was neither stone nor wood nor metal. Perhaps it had been brought here from another plane?

He tried to visualize the city as it had been before it was deserted. The streets had been wide, there had been no surrounding wall, the houses had been low and built around large courtyards. If this was, indeed, the original home of his people, what had happened to change them from the peaceful citizens of R’lin K’ren A’a to the insane builders of Imrryr’s bizarre and dreaming towers? Elric had thought he might find a solution to a mystery here, but instead he had found another mystery. It was his fate, he thought, shrugging to himself.

And then the first crystal disc hummed past his head and smashed against a collapsing wall.

The next disc split the skull of a crewman and a third nicked Moonglum’s ear before they had thrown themselves flat amongst the rubble.

“They’re vengeful, those creatures,” Avan said with a hard smile. “They’ll risk much to pay us back for their comrades’ deaths!”

Terror was on the face of each surviving crewman and fear had begun to creep into Avan’s eyes.

More discs clattered nearby, but it was plain that the party was temporarily out of sight of the reptiles. Moonglum coughed as white dust rose from the rubble and caught in his throat.

“You’d best summon those monstrous allies of yours again, Elric.”

Elric shook his head. “I cannot. My ally said he would not serve me a second time.” He looked to his left where the four walls of a small house still stood. There seemed to be no door, only a window.

“Then call Arioch,” Moonglum said urgently. “Anything.”

“Arioch? I am not sure…”

Then Elric rolled over and sprang for the shelter, flinging himself through the window to land on a pile of masonry which grazed his hands and knees.

He staggered upright. In the distance he could see the huge blind statue of the god dominating the city. This was said to be an image of Arioch—though it resembled no image of Arioch Elric had ever seen manifested. Did that image protect R’lin K’ren A’a—or did it threaten it? Someone screamed. He glanced through the opening and saw that a disc had landed and chopped through a man’s forearm.

He drew Stormbringer and raised it, facing the jade statue.

“Arioch!” he cried. “Arioch—aid me!”

Black light burst from the blade and it began to sing, as if joining in Elric’s incantation.

“Arioch!”

Would the demon come? Of late the patron of the kings of Melniboné refused to materialize, claiming that more urgent business called him—business concerning the eternal struggle between Law and Chaos.

“Arioch!”

Sword and man were now wreathed in a palpitating black mist and Elric’s white face was flung back, seeming to writhe as the mist writhed.

“Arioch! I beg thee to aid me! It is Elric who calls thee!”

And then a voice reached his ears. It was a soft, purring, reasonable voice. It was a tender voice.

“Elric, I am fondest of thee. I love thee more than any other mortal—but aid thee I cannot—not yet.”

Elric cried desperately: “Then we are doomed to perish here!”

“Thou canst escape this danger. Flee alone into the forest. Leave the others while thou hast time. Thou hast a destiny to fulfill elsewhere and elsewhen…”

“I will not desert them.”

“Thou art foolish, sweet Elric.”

“Arioch—since Melniboné’s founding thou hast aided her kings. Aid her last king this day!”

“I cannot dissipate my energies. A great struggle looms. And it would cost me much to return to R’lin K’ren A’a. Flee now. Thou shalt be saved. Only the others will die.”

And then the Duke of Hell had gone. Elric sensed the passing of his presence. He frowned, fingering his belt pouch, trying to recall something he had once heard. Slowly, he resheathed the reluctant sword. Then there was a thump and Moonglum stood panting before him.

“Well, is aid on the way?”

“I fear not.” Elric shook his head in despair. “Once again Arioch refuses me. Once again he speaks of a greater destiny—a need to conserve his strength.”

“Your ancestors could have picked a more tractable demon as their patron. Our reptilian friends are closing in. Look…” Moonglum pointed to the outskirts of the city. A band of about a dozen stilt-legged creatures were advancing, their huge clubs at the ready.

There was a scuffling noise from the rubble on the other side of the wall and Avan appeared, leading his men through the opening. He was cursing.

“No extra aid is coming, I fear,” Elric told him.

The Vilmirian smiled grimly. “Then the monsters out there knew more than did we!”

“It seems so.”

“We’ll have to try to hide from them,” Moonglum said without much conviction. “We’d not survive a fight.”

The little party left the ruined house and began to inch its way through what cover it could find, moving gradually nearer to the centre of the city and the statue of the Jade Man.

A sharp hiss from behind them told them that the reptile warriors had sighted them again and another Vilmirian fell with a crystal disc protruding from his back. They broke into a panicky run.

Ahead now was a red building of several storeys which still had its roof.

“In there!” Duke Avan shouted.

With some relief they dashed unhesitatingly up worn steps and through a series of dusty passages until they paused to catch their breath in a great, gloomy hall.

The hall was completely empty and a little light filtered through cracks in the wall.

“This place has lasted better than the others,” Duke Avan said. “I wonder what its function was. A fortress, perhaps.”

“They seem not to have been a warlike race,” Moonglum pointed out. “I suspect the building had some other function.”

The three surviving crewmen were looking fearfully about them. They looked as if they would have preferred to have faced the reptile warriors outside.

Elric began to cross the floor and then paused as he saw something painted on the far wall.

Moonglum saw it too. “What’s that, friend Elric?”

Elric recognized the symbols as the written High Speech of old Melniboné, but it was subtly different and it took him a short time to decipher its meaning.

“Know you what it says, Elric?” Duke Avan murmured, joining them.

“Aye—but it’s cryptic enough. It says: ‘If thou hast come to slay me, then thou art welcome. If thou hast come without the means to awaken the Jade Man, then begone…’”

“Is it addressed to us, I wonder,” Avan mused, “or has it been there for a long while?”

Elric shrugged. “It could have been inscribed at any time during the past ten thousand years…”

Moonglum walked up to the wall and reached out to touch it. “I would say it was fairly recent,” he said. “The paint is still wet.”

Elric frowned. “Then there are inhabitants here still. Why do they not reveal themselves?”

“Could those reptiles out there be the denizens of R’lin K’ren A’a?” Avan said. “There is nothing in the legends that says they were humans who fled this place…”

Elric’s face clouded and he was about to make an angry reply when Moonglum interrupted.

“Perhaps there is just one inhabitant. Is that what you are thinking, Elric? The Creature Doomed to Live? Those sentiments could be his…”

Elric put his hands to his face and made no reply.

“Come,” Avan said. “We’ve no time to debate on legends.” He strode across the floor and entered another doorway, beginning to descend steps. As he reached the bottom they heard him gasp.

The others joined him and saw that he stood on the threshold of another hall. But this one was ankle-deep in fragments of stuff that had been thin leaves of a metallic material which had the flexibility of parchment. Around the walls were thousands of small holes, rank upon rank, each with a character painted over it.

“What is it?” Moonglum asked.

Elric stooped and picked up one of the fragments. This had half a Melnibonéan character engraved on it. There had even been an attempt to obliterate this.

“It was a library,” he said softly. “The library of my ancestors. Someone has tried to destroy it. These scrolls must have been virtually indestructible, yet a great deal of effort has gone into making them indecipherable.” He kicked at the fragments. “Plainly our friend—or friends—is a consistent hater of learning.”

“Plainly,” Avan said bitterly. “Oh, the value of those scrolls to the scholar! All destroyed!”

Elric shrugged. “To limbo with the scholar—their value to me was quite considerable!”

Moonglum put a hand on his friend’s arm and Elric shrugged it off. “I had hoped…”

Moonglum cocked his head. “Those reptiles have followed us into the building, by the sound of it.”

They heard the distant sound of strange footsteps in the passages behind them.

The little band moved as silently as it could through the ruined scrolls and crossed the hall until they entered another corridor which led sharply upward.

Then, suddenly, daylight was visible.

Elric peered ahead. “The corridor has collapsed ahead of us and is blocked, by the look of it. The roof has caved in and we may be able to escape through the hole.”

They clambered upward over the fallen stones, glancing warily behind them for signs of their pursuers.

At last they emerged in the central square of the city. On the far sides of this square were placed the feet of the great statue, which now towered high above their heads.

Directly before them were two peculiar constructions which, unlike the rest of the buildings, were completely whole. They were domed and faceted and were made of some glasslike substance which diffracted the rays of the sun.

From below they heard the reptile men advancing down the corridor.

“We’ll seek shelter in the nearest of those domes,” Elric said. He broke into a trot, leading the way.

The others followed him through the irregularly shaped opening at the base of the dome.

Once inside, however, they hesitated, shielding their eyes and blinking heavily as they tried to discern their way.

“It’s like a maze of mirrors!” Moonglum gasped. “By the gods, I’ve never seen a better. Was that its function, I wonder.”

Corridors seemed to go off in all directions—yet they might be nothing more than reflections of the passage they were in. Cautiously Elric began to continue further into the maze, the five others following him.

“This smells of sorcery to me,” Moonglum muttered as they advanced. “Have we been forced into a trap? I wonder.”

Elric drew his sword. It murmured softly—almost querulously.

Everything shifted suddenly and the shapes of his companions grew dim.

“Moonglum! Duke Avan!”

He heard voices murmuring, but they were not the voices of his friends.

“Moonglum!”

But then the little man faded away altogether and Elric was alone.

CHAPTER SIX

He turned and a wall of red brilliance struck his eyes and blinded him.

He called out and his voice was turned into a dismal wail which mocked him.

He tried to move, but he could not tell whether he remained in the same spot or walked a dozen miles.

Now there was someone standing a few yards away, seemingly obscured by a screen of multicoloured transparent gems. He stepped forward and made to dash away the screen, but it vanished and he stopped suddenly.

He looked on a face of infinite sorrow.

And the face was his own face, save that the man’s colouring was normal and his hair was black.

“What are you?” Elric said thickly.

“I have had many names. One is Erekosë. I have been many men. Perhaps I am all men.”

“But you are like me!”

“I am you.”

“No!”

The phantom’s eyes held tears as it stared in pity at Elric.

“Do not weep for me!” Elric roared. “I need no sympathy from you!”

“Perhaps I weep for myself, for I know our fate.”

“And what is that?”

“You would not understand.”

“Tell me.”

“Ask your gods.”

Elric raised his sword. Fiercely he said, “No—I’ll have my answer from you!”

And the phantom faded away.

Elric shivered. Now the corridor was populated by a thousand such phantoms. Each murmured a different name. Each wore different clothes. But each had his face, if not his colouring.

“Begone!” he screamed. “Oh, gods, what is this place?”

And at his command they disappeared.

“Elric?”

The albino whirled, sword ready. But it was Duke Avan Astran of Old Hrolmar. He touched his own face with trembling fingers, but said levelly, “I must tell you that I believe I am losing my sanity, Prince Elric…”

“What have you seen?”

“Many things. I cannot describe them.”

“Where are Moonglum and the others?”

“Doubtless each went his separate way, as we did.”

Elric raised Stormbringer and brought the blade crashing against a crystal wall. The Black Sword moaned, but the wall merely changed its position.

But through the gap now Elric saw ordinary daylight. “Come, Duke Avan—there is escape!”

Avan, dazed, followed him and they stepped out of the crystal and found themselves in the central square of R’lin K’ren A’a.

But there were noises. Carts and chariots moved about the square. Stalls were erected on one side. People moved peacefully about. And the Jade Man did not dominate the sky above the city. Here, there was no Jade Man at all.

Elric looked at the faces. They were the eldritch features of the folk of Melniboné. Yet these had a different cast to them which he could not at first define. Then he recognized what they had. It was tranquility. He reached out his hand to touch one of the people.

“Tell me, friend, what year…?”

But the man did not hear him. He walked by.

Elric tried to stop several of the passers-by, but not one could see or hear him.

“How did they lose this peace?” Duke Avan asked wonderingly. “How did they become like you, Prince Elric?”

Elric almost snarled as he turned sharply to face the Vilmirian. “Be silent!”

Duke Avan shrugged. “Perhaps this is merely an illusion.”

“Perhaps,” Elric said sadly. “But I am sure this is how they lived—until the coming of the High Ones.”

“You blame the gods, then?”

“I blame the knowledge that the gods brought.”

Duke Avan nodded gravely. “I understand.”

He turned back towards the great crystal and then stood listening. “Do you hear that voice, Prince Elric? What is it saying?”

Elric heard the voice. It seemed to be coming from the crystal. It was speaking the old tongue of Melniboné, but with a strange accent. “This way,” it said. “This way.”

Elric paused. “I have no liking to return there.”

Avan said, “What choice have we?”

They stepped together through the entrance.

Again they were in the maze that could be one corridor or many and the voice was clearer. “Take two paces to your right,” it instructed.

Avan glanced at Elric. “What was that?”

Elric told him.

“Shall we obey?” Avan asked.

“Aye.” There was resignation in the albino’s voice.

They took two paces to their right.

“Now four to your left,” said the voice.

They took four paces to their left.

“Now one forward.”

They emerged into the ruined square of R’lin K’ren A’a.

Moonglum and one Vilmirian crewman stood there.

“Where are the others?” Avan demanded.

“Ask him,” Moonglum said wearily, gesturing with the sword in his right hand.

They stared at the man who was either an albino or a leper. He was completely naked and he bore a distinct likeness to Elric. At first Elric thought this was another phantom, but then he saw that there were also several differences in their faces. There was something sticking from the man’s side, just above the third rib. With a shock, Elric recognized it as the broken shaft of a Vilmirian arrow.

The naked man nodded. “Aye—the arrow found its mark. But it could not slay me, for I am J’osui C’reln Reyr…”

“You believe yourself to be the Creature Doomed to Live,” Elric murmured.

“I am he.” The man gave a bitter smile. “Do you think I try to deceive you?”

Elric glanced at the arrow shaft and then shook his head.

“You are ten thousand years old?” Avan stared at him.

“What does he say?” asked J’osui C’reln Reyr of Elric. Elric translated.

“Is that all it has been?” The man sighed. Then he looked intently at Elric. “You are of my race?”

“It seems so.”

“Of what family?”

“Of the royal line.”

“Then you have come at last. I, too, am of that line.”

“I believe you.”

“I notice that the Olab seek you.”

“The Olab?”

“Those primitives with the clubs.”

“Aye. We encountered them on our journey upriver.”

“I will lead you to safety. Come.”

Elric allowed J’osui C’reln Reyr to take them across the square to where part of a tottering wall still stood. The man then lifted a flagstone and showed them steps leading down into darkness. They followed him, descending cautiously as he caused the flagstone to lower itself above their heads. And then they found themselves in a room lit by crude oil lamps. Save for a bed of dried grasses the room was empty.

“You live sparely,” Elric said.

“I have need for nothing else. My head is sufficiently furnished…”

“Where do the Olab come from?” Elric asked.

“They are but recently arrived in these parts. Scarcely a thousand years ago—or perhaps half that time—they came from further upriver after some quarrel with another tribe. They do not usually come to the island. You must have killed many of them for them to wish you such harm.”

“We killed many.”

J’osui C’reln Reyr gestured at the others who were staring at him in some discomfort. “And these? Primitives, also, eh? They are not of our folk.”

“There are few of our folk left.”

“What does he say?” Duke Avan asked.

“He says that those reptile warriors are called the Olab,” Elric told him.

“And was it these Olab who stole the Jade Man’s eyes?”

When Elric translated the question the Creature Doomed to Live was astonished. “Did you not know, then?”

“Know what?”

“Why, you have been in the Jade Man’s eyes! Those great crystals in which you wandered—that is what they are!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

When Elric offered this information to Duke Avan, the Vilmirian burst into laughter. He flung his head back and roared with mirth while the others looked gloomily on. The cloud that had fallen across his features of late suddenly cleared and he became again the man whom Elric had first met in Chalal.

Moonglum was the next to smile and even Elric acknowledged the irony of what had happened to them.

“Those crystals fell from his face like tears soon after the High Ones departed,” continued J’osui C’reln Reyr.

“So the High Ones did come here.”

“Aye—the Jade Man brought the message and all the folk departed, having made their bargain with him.”

“The Jade Man was not built by your people?”

“The Jade Man is Duke Arioch of Hell. He strode from the forest one day and stood in the square and told the people what was to come about—that our city lay at the centre of some particular configuration and that it was only there that the Lords of the Higher Worlds could meet.”

“And the bargain?”

“In return for their city, our royal line might in future increase their power with Arioch as their patron. He would give them great knowledge and the means to build a new city elsewhere.”

“And they accepted this bargain without question?”

“There was little choice, kinsman.”

Elric lowered his eyes to regard the dusty floor. “And thus they were corrupted,” he murmured.

“Only I refused to accept the pact. I did not wish to leave this city and I mistrusted Arioch. When all others set off down the river, I remained here—where we are now—and I heard the Lords of the Higher Worlds arrive and I heard them speak, laying down the rules under which Law and Chaos would fight thereafter. When they had gone, I emerged. But Arioch—the Jade Man—was still here. He looked down on me through his crystal eyes and he cursed me. When that was done the crystals fell and landed where you now see them. Arioch’s spirit departed, but his jade image was left behind.”

“And you still retain all memory of what transpired between the Lords of Law and Chaos?”

“That is my doom.”

“Perhaps your fate was less harsh than that which befell those who left,” Elric said quickly. “I am the last inheritor of that particular doom…”

J’osui C’reln Reyr looked puzzled and then he stared into Elric’s eyes and an expression of pity crossed his face. “I had not thought there was a worse fate—but now I believe there might be…”

Elric said urgently, “Ease my soul, at least. I must know what passed between the High Lords in those days. I must understand the nature of my existence—as you, at least, understand yours. Tell me, I beg you!”

J’osui C’reln Reyr frowned and he stared deeply into Elric’s eyes. “Do you not know all my story, then?”

“Is there more?”

“I can only remember what passed between the High Lords—but when I try to tell my knowledge aloud or try to write it down, I cannot…”

Elric grasped the man’s shoulder. “You must try! You must try!”

“I know that I cannot.”

Seeing the torture in Elric’s face, Moonglum came up to him. “What is it, Elric?”

Elric’s hands clutched his head. “Our journey has been useless.” Unconsciously he used the old Melnibonéan tongue.

“It need not be,” said J’osui C’reln Reyr. “For me, at least.” He paused. “Tell me, how did you find this city? Was there a map?”

Elric produced the map. “This one.”

“Aye, that is the one. Many centuries ago I put it into a casket which I placed in a small trunk. I launched the trunk into the river, hoping that it would follow my people and they would know what it was.”

“The casket was found in Melniboné, but no-one had bothered to open it,” Elric explained. “That will give you an idea of what happened to the folk who left here…”

The strange man nodded gravely. “And was there still a seal upon the map?”

“There was. I have it.”

“An image of one of the manifestations of Arioch, embedded in a small ruby?”

“Aye. I thought I recognized the image, but I could not place it.”

“The Image in the Gem,” murmured J’osui C’reln Reyr. “As I prayed, it has returned—borne by one of the royal line!”

“What is its significance?”

Moonglum interrupted. “Will this fellow help us to escape, Elric? We are becoming somewhat impatient…”

“Wait,” the albino said. “I will tell you everything later.”

“The Image in the Gem could be the instrument of my release,” said the Creature Doomed to Live. “If he who possesses it is of the royal line, then he can command the Jade Man.”

“But why did you not use it?”

“Because of the curse that was put on me. I had the power to command, but not to summon the demon. It was a joke, I understand, of the High Lords.”

Elric saw bitter sadness in the eyes of J’osui C’reln Reyr. He looked at the white, naked flesh and the white hair and the body that was neither old nor young, at the shaft of the arrow sticking out above the third rib on the left side.

“What must I do?” he asked.

“You must summon Arioch and then you must command him to enter his body again and recover his eyes so that he may see to walk away from R’lin K’ren A’a.”

“And when he walks away?”

“The curse goes with him.”

Elric was thoughtful. If he did summon Arioch—who was plainly reluctant to come—and then commanded him to do something he did not wish to do, he stood the chance of making an enemy of that powerful, if unpredictable entity. Yet they were trapped here by the Olab warriors, with no means of escaping them. If the Jade Man walked, the Olab would almost certainly flee and there would be time to get back to the ship and reach the sea. He explained everything to his companions. Both Moonglum and Avan looked dubious and the remaining Vilmirian crewman looked positively terrified.

“I must do it,” Elric decided, “for the sake of this man. I must call Arioch and lift the doom that is on R’lin K’ren A’a.”

“And bring a greater doom to us!” Duke Avan said, putting his hand automatically upon his sword-hilt. “No. I think we should take our chances with the Olab. Leave this man—he is mad—he raves. Let’s be on our way.”

“Go if you choose,” Elric said. “But I will stay with the Creature Doomed to Live.”

“Then you will stay here for ever. You cannot believe his story!”

“But I do believe it.”

“You must come with us. Your sword will help. Without it, the Olab will certainly destroy us.”

“You saw that Stormbringer has little effect against the Olab.”

“And yet it has some. Do not desert me, Elric!”

“I am not deserting you. I must summon Arioch. That summoning will be to your benefit, if not to mine.”

“I am unconvinced.”

“It was my sorcery you wanted on this venture. Now you shall have my sorcery.”

Avan backed away. He seemed to fear something more than the Olab, more than the Summoning. He seemed to read something in Elric’s face which even Elric did not know.

“We must go outside,” said J’osui C’reln Reyr. “We must stand beneath the Jade Man.”

“And when this is done,” Elric asked suddenly, “how will we leave R’lin K’ren A’a?”

“There is a boat. It has no provisions, but much of the city’s treasure is on it. It lies at the west end of the island.”

“That is some comfort,” Elric said. “And you could not use it yourself?”

“I could not leave.”

“Is that part of the curse?”

“Aye—the curse of my timidity.”

“Timidity has kept you here ten thousand years?”

“Aye…”

They left the chamber and went out into the square. Night had fallen and a huge moon was in the sky. From where Elric stood it seemed to frame the Jade Man’s sightless head like a halo. It was completely silent. Elric took the Image in the Gem from his pouch and held it between the forefinger and thumb of his left hand. With his right he drew Stormbringer. Avan, Moonglum and the Vilmirian crewman fell back.

He stared up at the huge jade legs, the genitals, the torso, the arms, the head, and he raised his sword in both hands and screamed:

“ARIOCH!”

Stormbringer’s voice almost drowned his. It pulsed in his hands; it threatened to leave his grasp altogether as it howled.

“ARIOCH!”

All the watchers saw now was the throbbing, radiant sword, the white face and hands of the albino and his crimson eyes glaring through the blackness.

“ARIOCH!”

And then a voice which was not Arioch’s came to Elric’s ears and it seemed that the sword itself spoke.

“Elric—Arioch must have blood and souls. Blood and souls, my lord…”

“No. These are my friends and the Olab cannot be harmed by Stormbringer. Arioch must come without the blood, without the souls.”

“Only those can summon him for certain!” said a voice, more clearly now. It was sardonic and it seemed to come from behind him. He turned, but there was nothing there.

He saw Duke Avan’s nervous face, and as his eyes fixed on the Vilmirian’s countenance, the sword came round and plunged towards the duke.

“No!” cried Elric. “Stop!”

But Stormbringer would not stop until it had plunged deep into Duke Avan’s heart and quenched its thirst. The crewman stood transfixed as he watched his master die.

Duke Avan writhed. “Elric! What treachery do you…?” He screamed. “Ah, no!”

He jerked. “Please…”

He quivered. “My soul…”

He died.

Elric withdrew the sword and cut the crewman down. The action had been without thought.

“Now Arioch has his blood and his souls,” he said coldly. “Let Arioch come!”

Moonglum and the Creature Doomed to Live had retreated, staring at the possessed Elric in horror. The albino’s face was cruel.

“LET ARIOCH COME!”

“I am here, Elric.”

Elric whirled and saw that something stood in the shadow of the statue’s legs—a shadow within a shadow.

“Arioch—thou must return to this manifestation and make it leave R’lin K’ren A’a for ever.”

“I do not choose to, Elric.”

“Then I must command thee, Duke Arioch.”

“Command? Only he who possesses the Image in the Gem may command Arioch—and then only once.”

“I have the Image in the Gem.” Elric held up the tiny object. “See.”

The shadow within a shadow swirled for a moment as if in anger.

“If I obey your command, you will set in motion a chain of events which you might not desire,” Arioch said, speaking suddenly in Low Melnibonéan as if to give extra gravity to his words.

“Then let it be. I command you to enter the Jade Man and pick up its eyes so that it might walk again. Then I command you to leave here and take the curse of the High Ones with you.”

Arioch replied, “When the Jade Man ceases to guard the place where the High Ones meet, then the great struggle of the Upper Worlds begins.”

“I command thee, Arioch. Go into the Jade Man!”

“You are an obstinate creature, Elric.”

“Go!” Elric raised Stormbringer. It seemed to sing in monstrous glee and it seemed at that moment to be more powerful than Arioch himself, more powerful than all the Lords of the Higher Worlds.

The ground shook. Fire suddenly blazed around the form of the great statue. The shadow within a shadow disappeared.

And the Jade Man stooped.

Its great bulk bent over Elric and its hands reached past him and it groped for the two crystals that lay on the ground. Then it found them and took one in each hand, straightening its back.

Elric stumbled towards the far corner of the square where Moonglum and J’osui C’reln Reyr already stood, their bodies crouched in terror.

A fierce light now blazed from the Jade Man’s eyes and the jade lips parted.

“It is done, Elric!” said a huge voice.

J’osui C’reln Reyr began to sob.

“Then go, Arioch.”

“I go. The curse is lifted from R’lin K’ren A’a and from J’osui C’reln Reyr—but a greater curse now lies upon your whole plane. I journey now to Pan Tang to answer, at last, the Theocrat’s prayers to me!”

“What is this, Arioch? Explain yourself!” Elric cried.

“Soon you will have your explanation. Farewell!”

The enormous legs of jade moved suddenly and in a single step had cleared the ruins and had begun to crash through the jungle. In a moment the Jade Man had disappeared.

Then the Creature Doomed to Live laughed. It was a strange joy that he voiced. Moonglum blocked his ears.

“And now!” shouted J’osui C’reln Reyr. “Now your blade must take my life. I can die at last!”

Elric passed his hand across his face. He had hardly been aware of the events of the past moments. “No,” he said in a dazed tone. “I cannot…”

And Stormbringer flew from his hand—flew to the body of the Creature Doomed to Live and buried itself in its chest.

And as he died, J’osui C’reln Reyr laughed. He fell to the ground and his lips moved. A whisper came from them. Elric stepped nearer to hear.

“The sword has my knowledge now. My burden has left me.”

The eyes closed.

J’osui C’reln Reyr’s ten-thousand-year life-span had ended.

Weakly, Elric withdrew Stormbringer and sheathed it. He stared down at the body of the Creature Doomed to Live and then he looked up, questioningly, at Moonglum.

The little Eastlander turned away.

The sun began to rise. Grey dawn came. Elric watched the corpse of J’osui C’reln Reyr turn to powder that was stirred by the wind and mixed with the dust of the ruins. He walked back across the square to where Duke Avan’s twisted body lay and he fell to his knees beside it.

“You were warned, Duke Avan Astran of Old Hrolmar, that ill befell those who linked their fortunes with Elric of Melniboné. But you thought otherwise. Now you know.” With a sigh he got to his feet.

Moonglum stood beside him. The sun was now touching the taller parts of the ruins. Moonglum reached out and gripped his friend’s shoulder.

“The Olab have vanished. I think they’ve had their fill of sorcery.”

“Another one has been destroyed by me, Moonglum. Am I forever to be tied to this cursed sword? I must discover a way to rid myself of it or my heavy conscience will bear me down so that I cannot rise at all.”

Moonglum nodded, but was silent.

“I will lay Duke Avan to rest,” Elric said. “You go back to where we left the ship and tell the men that we come.”

Moonglum began to stride across the square towards the east.

Elric tenderly picked up the body of Duke Avan and went towards the opposite side of the square, to the underground room where the Creature Doomed to Live had lived out his life for ten thousand years.

It seemed so unreal to Elric now, but he knew that it had not been a dream, for the Jade Man had gone. His tracks could be seen through the jungle. Whole clumps of trees had been flattened.

He reached the place and descended the stairs and laid Duke Avan down on the bed of dried grasses. Then he took the duke’s dagger and, for want of anything else, dipped it in the duke’s blood and wrote on the wall above the corpse:

This was Duke Avan Astran of Old Hrolmar. He explored the world and brought much knowledge and treasure back to Vilmir, his land. He dreamed and became lost in the dream of another and so died. He enriched the Young Kingdoms—and thus encouraged another dream. He died so that the Creature Doomed to Live might die, as he desired…

Elric paused. Then he threw down the dagger. He could not justify his own feelings of guilt by composing a high-sounding epitaph for the man he had slain.

He stood there, breathing heavily, then once again picked up the dagger.

He died because Elric of Melniboné desired a peace and a knowledge he could never find. He died by the Black Sword.

         

Outside in the middle of the square, at noon, still lay the lonely body of the last Vilmirian crewman. Nobody had known his name. Nobody felt grief for him or tried to compose an epitaph for him. The dead Vilmirian had died for no high purpose, followed no fabulous dream. Even in death his body would fulfill no function. On this island there was no carrion-eater to feed. In the dust of the city there was no earth to fertilize.

Elric came back into the square and saw the body and for him, for a moment, it symbolized everything that had transpired here and would transpire later.

“There is no purpose,” he murmured.

Perhaps his remote ancestors had, after all, realized that, but had not cared. It had taken the Jade Man to make them care and then go mad in their anguish. The knowledge had caused them to close their minds to much.

“Elric!”

It was Moonglum returning. Elric looked up.

“I met the only survivor on the trail. Before he died he told me the Olab had dealt with the crew and the ship before they came after us. They’re all slain. The boat is destroyed.”

Elric remembered something the Creature Doomed to Live had told him. “There is another boat,” he said. “It lies at the west end of the island.”

It took them the rest of the day and all of that night to discover where J’osui C’reln Reyr had hidden his boat. They pulled it down to the water and inspected it. It was a sturdy boat, made of the same strange material they had seen in the library of R’lin K’ren A’a. Moonglum peered into the lockers and grinned at what he saw there. “Treasure! So we have benefited from this venture, after all!”

“The jewels will not feed us,” Elric said. “It is a long journey home.”

“Home?”

“Back to the Young Kingdoms.”

Moonglum winked at him. “I saw some cases of provisions amongst the wreckage of Avan’s schooner. We’ll sail round the island and pick them up.”

Elric looked back at the silent forest and a shiver passed through him. He thought of all the hopes he had had on the journey upriver and he cursed himself for a fool.

There was something of a smile on his face as they cast off, raised the sail and began to move with the current.

Moonglum displayed a handful of emeralds. “We are poor no longer, friend Elric!”

“Aye,” said Elric. “Are we not lucky, you and I, Moonglum?”

And this time it was Moonglum’s turn to shiver.