TEN - ENTER THE LOBSTER

“Moira,” the wind moaned. “Moira, Moira, Moira, Moira.”

It keened around the towers. Frigid fingers clutched at the banners and tugged at the windows. It could not find purchase against the wizards' spells, but it kept on.

Moira went to the window and tried to look out, but a dark formless thing beat upon the pane, as if to strike her, and she turned away.

“Is it getting worse?” she asked Bal-Simba.

“It gets no better. That in itself means it will get worse. Like a starfish on an oyster. It pulls and pulls and eventually the oyster weakens.”

The dragon hesitated. Then perhaps I should go out there,” Moira said.

“And give our enemy the advantage he seeks? An unwise move, My Lady.”

“Then what shall we do?”

“Work Wait. Perfect the spells to drive this thing from our door.”

The dragon did not turn its head. “I wish Wiz was here.”

Bal-Simba sighed. “So do I, My Lady. So do I.”

Their first warning was the way sounds changed. Careless footsteps or dislodged pebbles rang sharper and more hollowly. Wiz was still trying to puzzle out the difference when they came around a bend in the tunnel and stepped out into a new world.

The cavern was immense. Stalactites and sheets of flow stone rippled from ceiling to floor in pastel pinks and yellows. They made weirdly distorted shadows in the light from Wiz's glow globe. In spite of the steady illumination the shadows seemed to flicker and dance in eerie motion. The air was heavy with damp and utterly still. Occasionally a foot would dislodge a pebble and the sound would ring through the emptiness.

They picked their way along for perhaps two hundred paces and then, suddenly, there was no floor before ' them.

It took a minute for Wiz to make a coherent picture out of the sense impressions, like staring at an optical illusion. Finally the elements snapped into focus and he realized they were standing at the edge of a cliff thickly coated with onyx flowstone. By directing the magic light out over the darkness he could see that the face was a steep cascade of the same orange, pink and white material as the surface they were standing on. He could not see the other side and the light did not show him the bottom, but his magic detector pointed straight out across the emptiness.

“It looks like we're going to have to climb down,” he said to the others.”

Tine,” Malkin said, shedding her pack and unhooking a coil of rope from it “I'll go first.”

Wiz wasn't exactly overjoyed at the prospect of climbing down a slippery cuff in the dark, but he felt he had to assert himself as leader. “Why you?”

Malkin looked up at him. “Because you're a klutz. Now help me find a rock to tie off on.”

That was true enough that Wiz didn't argue. But he was a little surprised she knew the word.

Malkin selected a convenient boulder, looped the rope around it and secured it with a particularly complicated looking knot. Keeping the rope taut in one hand she stepped back and admired her handiwork.

“All right everyone, I'll go first. Be sure to keep tension on the rope and whatever you do don't let it go slack and then jerk it.”

“Why not?” asked Danny.

“Because if you do the knot comes undone. That's how we get the rope down when we're at the bottom.”

Danny looked at the knot again.

“It's perfectly safe,” Malkin assured him. “The next person to go down stands by the rope and keeps the tension on. Just keep doing that and we'll be fine.”

The thief rigged a harness from a shorter piece of rope and attached it to the main rope with a peculiar looking knot.

“I'll take a light with me and signal for the next one to follow,” she said, and with that she stepped backwards into the blackness and disappeared from view.

Danny kept tension on me rope as she worked her way down. The others watched the rope twitch as Malkin worked her way down the cuff face. Finally it lay still and they heard her call up to them.

“Okay. It's about a hundred paces down. There's plenty of rope and its an easy descent. Come on down one by one.”

Since he couldn't lead, Wiz figured the leader's next logical place was as rear guard. He let Danny and then June go down. Glandurg disdained the rope and scrambled down the cliff face like a fly. At last the rope was still again. Wiz picked up Malkin's pack, slung it over one shoulder and started to work his way down the cuff.

In the back of Wiz's mind a small voice kept telling him all this was wrong. You don't find limestone caves beneath volcanoes. Halfway down the rope Wiz decided this was arrant pedantry and told the small voice to shut up.

The rope finned and steadied as someone took hold of it from the bottom. With that aid Wiz made good time the rest of the way down.

Thanks,” he said as his feet touched the ground Behind him the rope holder snorted Wiz turned to look His first impression was of Malkin in a silver fright wig. His second impression was of a lot of teeth, claws, flaming red eyes and really awful breath.

He yelled and ducked as the thing took a swipe at him. He rumbled for his staff, but the thing was too close, so he settled for tripping backwards and going flat on his back. The thing closed in for the kill and the world bunked.

The protection spell, Wiz thought. The protection spell kicked in. His second thought was that he wasn't wearing the magic ring, so he must have been stunned by his fall and before he had time for a third thought, a liquid voice broke in.

“Oh, I hope you are all right. Not damaged in any way? Here, let me help you up.”

Thanks,” Wiz said, taking the preferred hand.

It wasn't a hand, exactly. It was a claw. A very large claw. At the other end of the claw was a lobster—about thirty feet of lobster.

“Uh, thanks,” Wiz said again.

The lobster waved an antenna. “Think nothing of it. All in a day's work, I can assure you.” Its voice was a warm rich baritone, not at all the way Wiz had expected a lobster to sound. Although come to that, Wiz realized, he didn't really have an idea how a lobster should sound. Terribly sorry about that,” the lobster went on. Those creatures have no manners at all, not to mention absolutely no taste! Tasteless.”

The lobster gave Wiz's hand a little squeeze before releasing it “On, and you're molting too,” the lobster said delightedly. “How wonderful. You're especially tender at this stage.” The lobster sighed. “And the sheik are such a bother.”

It occurred to Wiz that he might not be out of trouble yet.

“Uh, where are my friends?”

“Oh, they're off chasing the rest of those things. They attacked them, you know.” A sniff of disdain. Tasteless. Utterly tasteless. No matter how much garlic and herbs you use, it's like eating old leather.”

Wiz remembered the guardroom with the dismembered skeletons.

“Now you, on the other hand! Oh, think how wonderful you'll smell all boiled up with lemon pepper and a bouquet garnish of herbs.”

Wiz scrambled back up the slope away from the huge claws. “Look, can't we talk about this?”

“But it is the function of humans to be served up on a plate with garlic butter and surrounded by parsley,” the lobster protested as it moved toward him. It paused. “Ah, you don't happen to have any parsley with you? Pity. I'm out.”

The lobster extended his enormous pincers and advanced on Wiz. “Now, I assure you, your nervous system is so primitive you won't feel a bit of pain.”

“I'll be the judge of that,” Wiz said, continuing his backwards scramble. “Did anyone ever tell you it's impolite to eat your acquaintances?”

The lobster sighed gustily through its gills, giving Wiz a whiff of iodine-scented “breath.” “You humans have the most curious notions. We have always believed that a little light conversation before dinner allows you to fully appreciate the meal. But not too much. Come on now, into the pot you go.”

Wiz kept backing up. There wasn't anyplace to run to and the lobster seemed to move over the rocky ground more easily than he did.

“You're being quite unreasonable, you know.” The lobster sounded almost hurt. “After all, humans eat us.”

“But you give us heartburn.”

That,” said the lobster smugly, “is the advantage of a superior constitution. We don't get heartburn.”

A fireball whizzed over the lobster to splatter against the cavern wall above them.

“Oh, drat!” said the lobster and scuttled backwards at astonishing speed as Malkin, Danny and the others came up the tunnel.

“Boy, am I glad to see you guys!” Wiz said as the rest of the party gathered around him.

“We had a little butt-kicking to do,” Danny explained

“What was that?” Malkin demanded. “The Enemy?”

“No, that was a lobster. I think it was here before the Enemy took over. Local color you might say.”

“I'd like to color him,” Malkin retorted fiercely. “Boil him in a pot until he's bright red.”

“Yeah, well the feeling is mutual,” Wiz told her.