Another aperture appeared suddenly in the wall ahead, this one revealing a scene of dense jungle. Gene halted in his tracks and put out an arm to hold his companions back.
“Wait a minute. This looks like trouble.”
They stood and watched. Birdcalls echoed in the treetops, the undergrowth rustled here and fidgeted there, and tropical sun streamed green and gold through the high jungle canopy. But not much else happened.
“What were you saying about heart-pounding adventure?” Linda asked.
“Yeah … well.” Gene pushed his broadsword back into its scabbard. “We’re really getting the proverbial horns of the dilemma right in the butt. If we hide out in one of these wild aspects, we’ll be safe from the Bluefaces, all right. But you can bet the damn thing’ll close up and leave us stranded.”
“Great choice,” Linda said. “Die in some weird place, or stay here and get taken prisoner.” She gave a tiny shudder. “If they take prisoners. I wonder if they think humans are good to eat.”
Snowclaw said, “I’ve often wondered myself.”
The great white beast’s hairless companions regarded him gravely.
Abstractedly Snowclaw stroked the blade of the huge longsword that Linda had conjured for him. Then he flashed his teeth, chuckling impishly. “Just kidding, friends.”
“Maybe we’ll just have to take the chance and hole up in one of these,” Sheila said, pointing toward the jungle.
“It’s a thought,” Gene said. “But not this one. We need one with some signs of civilization.”
“That, I think, is going to be hard,” Linda said. “Did you ever notice that most aspects are either uninhabited, deserted, or, if they do have civilization, it’s primitive?”
Gene thought about it. “Yeah, now that you mention it. I’ve seen some strange things, briefly glimpsed through aspects here and there. But for the most part, you’re right. If the aspect is easily accessible, there’s usually nothing there except picture-postcard stuff. Pretty, but of no use. There must be a reason for it.”
“Just think if the portal to Earth were, say, in the middle of New York City.”
“Right, this castle would be co-op apartments by now. Maybe that’s the reason that portals to worlds with advanced civilizations are so rare. Maybe the castle was designed that way in order to protect it from invasion from within, so to speak.”
“Makes sense,” Linda said.
“Come on, let’s get going.”
They moved away from the jungle aspect. Farther down the corridor they passed two large empty halls, one at either hand.
Gene thought awhile, then said, “Yeah, it makes sense. But what happened with the Bluefaces? Did the castle’s defenses — whatever they are — break down? Or does this kind of thing happen periodically?”
“If this place is as old as they say it is,” Linda said, “it would have been invaded long ago.”
Gene shrugged. “Maybe it was. Maybe Lord Incarnadine is an invader himself.”
“Haven’t you ever talked to any of the servants? They all say —”
“Yeah, I know. They all say Incarnadine’s been lord of Perilous for hundreds of years. And before that his dad was lord for a thousand years. I know — I’m just throwing hypotheses against the wall and seeing if any of ’em leave a stain.” He ruminated for a few more paces. “Thing is, I have seen cities and high-tech-looking stuff through a few of the floating aspects, most of which look mighty hard to cross.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t figure it out.”
“Halt!”
They had just begun to cross through an intersecting tunnel. Swords already drawn, four Bluefaces were double-timing down the left branch, breaking into a charge when Gene and his companions came into view.
“Run!” Gene yelled, turning Sheila around and shoving her back down the corridor. Linda and Snowclaw needed no prompting. They ran, passing the two empty halls and the jungle aspect, but before they reached the crossing passageway ahead, three more Bluefaces turned the corner, snarling and waving swords.
Linda skidded to a stop. She had less than five seconds to arrive at a magical solution to the problem. She fought an urge to panic and closed her eyes, hoping the decision she made would be the right one.
Snowclaw turned to fight the first group of Bluefaces and Gene raced to meet the threesome. Snowy’s first victory was swift. His left hand struck like the head of a snake, tearing out the throat of the leader. He neatly sidestepped the falling body to bring his longsword to bear on the second creature.
Sheila backed against the wall and squatted, hands covering her head, mind gone numb with fear. Peeking between fingers, she saw Gene clash swords with two Bluefaces as a third maneuvered for position in the narrow hallway. Gene held his own for a spell, but three-on-one proved too much even for Gene’s expert swordcraft. He backstepped, fending off all three now, parrying and riposting, his blade a silver blur. Snowy was similarly boxed in, his three opponents giving him a hard time.
Then something strange happened. Sheila blinked her eyes and looked again. Either she was seeing triple, or there were three Genes. And Snowclaw seemed to have suddenly acquired two comrades-in-arms who looked exactly like him.
With a helpless groan, Sheila covered her eyes again as the whang and clank of swordplay filled the corridor. When she looked again, the situation was even more confused. Now there were more Bluefaces, and still more duplicates of Gene and Snowclaw.
“A duel between us, sorceress!” one Blueface called out. He was standing back from the melee, and appeared to be speaking to Linda, who stood calmly in the middle of things.
“You got it, Blueface!” Linda answered. She stuck her tongue out.
From that point on, things got very bizarre indeed. The number of combatants seemed to increase every few seconds. In a short time the passageway became the scene of an armed engagement of major proportions, spilling over into the great rooms on either side. New sorts of combatants appeared: knights in armor, Roman legionnaires, and Greek hoplites crossed swords with an outrageous assortment of monsters. Tentacles snaked, talons raked, and claws tore, all to the tune of singing steel. The noise was deafening. Sheila dove to the floor and flattened herself against the wall. When someone or something stepped on her ankle, she gave a yelp and crawled off.
Someone grabbed her arm and yanked her halfway up. It was Gene.
“Get to the aspect and jump through!” he yelled. “And keep down!” He let her go.
Sheila crawled, keeping her head down but watching out for stamping feet and other, stranger extremities. She was kicked once in the leg, then took the heel of a boot in her ribs. She doubled up with pain; and then got her foot mashed. Whimpering, she rose to a crouch and hobbled away. She stumbled, fell, and got up again.
Someone seized her wrist and spun her around. It was a Blueface, sword raised and ready to strike. Sheila stood transfixed, hypnotized by the gleaming blade above her. She had never really considered what it would be like to be struck by a sword. The blade was huge and looked wickedly sharp, sharper than the Japanese knife in those ubiquitous TV commercials where the guy cuts a beer can open and then dices an avocado. She was now up against the awful prospect, the impending reality, of having that blade slice through her flesh. The amazing thing was that she couldn’t scream. She simply stood there in this frozen instant, acutely conscious of her fate, almost dispassionately wondering if there would be much pain.
She never got the opportunity to find out. Another blade flashed round from behind and took the creature’s head clean off, leaving its neck a pulsing fountain of purple blood. Almost in slow motion, the body dropped at her feet. Snowclaw — which one? — grabbed her arm and shoved her in the direction of the portal.