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The stranger rose to his feet and raised the sword high above his head, defying the amazed and delighted passengers as he screamed at the top of his voice:

"Heeshgeegrowinaz! "

"Good afternoon, " said Mistress Christia. She reached in her purse for a translation pill and found one. "I wonder if you would care to swallow this — it's quite harmless…"

"Yakoom, oom glallio ", said the albino contemptuously.

"Aha, " said Mistress Christia. "Well, just as you please."

The Duke of Queens pointed towards the other socket. A huge, whirring beetle came sailing from it. In its back was someone he recognized with pleasure. "Mrs Persson! "

Una brought her air car alongside.

"Is he in your charge?" asked Werther with undisguised disappointment. "If so, I could offer you…"

"I'm afraid he means a lot to me, " she said.

"From your own age?" Mistress Christia also recognized Una. She still offered the translation pill in the palm of her hand. "He seems a mite suspicious of us."

"I'd noticed, " said Una. "It would be useful if he would accept the pill. However, if he will not, one of us…"

"I would be happy, " offered the generous Duke of Queens. He tugged at his green and gold beard. "Werther de Goethe, Mrs Persson."

"Perhaps I had better, " said Una nodding to Werther. The only problem with translation pills was that they did their job so thoroughly. You could speak the language perfectly, but you could speak no other.

Werther was, for once, positive. "Let's all take a pill, " he suggested.

Everyone at the End of Time carried translation pills, in case of meeting a visitor from Space or the Past.

Mistress Christia handed hers to Una and found another. They swallowed.

"Creatures of Chaos, " said the newcomer with cool dignity, "I demand that you release me. You cannot hold a mortal in this way, not unless he has struck a bargain with you. And no bargain was struck which would bring me to the Realm of Chaos."

"It's actually more orderly than you'd think, " said Werther apologetically. "Your first experience, you see, was the world of my skull, which was deliberately muddled. I meant to show what Confusion was the Mind of Man…"

"May I introduce Mistress Christia, the Everlasting Concubine, " said the Duke of Queens, on his best manners. "This is Mrs Persson, Bishop Castle, Gaf the Horse in Tears. Werther de Goethe — your unwitting host — and I am the Duke of Queens. We welcome you to our world. Your name, sir…?"

"You must know me, my lord duke, " said Elric. "For I am Elric of Melnibone, Emperor by Right of Birth, Inheritor of the Ruby Throne, Bearer of the Actorios, Wielder of the Black Sword…"

"Indeed! " said Werther de Goethe. In a whispered aside to Mrs Persson: "What a marvellous scowl! What a noble sneer! "

"You are an important personage in your world, then?" said Mistress Christia, fluttering the eyelashes she had just extended by half an inch. "Perhaps you would allow me…"

"I think he wishes to be returned to his home, " said Mrs Persson hastily.

"Returned?" Werther was astonished. "But the Morphail Effect! It is impossible."

"Not in this case, I think, " she said. "For if he is not returned there is no telling the fluctuations which will take place throughout the dimensions…"

They could not follow her, but they accepted her tone.

"Aye, " said Elric darkly, "return me to my realm, so that I may fulfil my own doom-laden destiny…"

Werther looked upon the albino with affectionate delight. "Aha! A fellow spirit! I, too, have a doom-laden destiny."

"I doubt it is as doom-laden as mine." Elric peered moodily back at the skull as the two air cars fled away towards a gentle horizon where exotic trees bloomed.

"Well, " said Werther with an effort, "perhaps it is not, though I assure you…"

"I have looked upon hell-born horror, " said Elric, "and communicated with the very Gods of the Uttermost Darkness. I have seen things which would turn other men's minds to useless jelly…"

"Jelly?" interrupted Bishop Castle. "Do you, in your turn, have any expertise with, for instance, blackbird trees?"

"Your words are meaningless, " Elric told him, glowering. "Why do you torment me so, my lords? I did not ask to visit your world. I belong in the world of men, in the Young Kingdoms, where I seek my weird. Why, I have but lately experienced adventures…"

"I do think we have one of those bores, " murmured Bishop Castle to the Duke of Queens, "so common amongst time travellers. They all believe themselves unique."

But the Duke of Queens refused to be drawn. He had developed a liking for the frowning albino. Gaf the Horse in Tears was also plainly impressed, for he had fashioned his own features into a rough likeness of Elric's. The Prince of Melnibone pretended insouciance, but it was evident to Una that he was frightened. She tried to calm him.

"People here at the End of Time…" she began.

"No soft words, my lady." A cynical smile played about the albino's lips. "I know you for that great unholy temptress, Queen of the Swords, Xiombarg herself."

"I assure you, I am as human as you, sir…"

"Human? I, human? I am not human, madam — though I be a mortal, 'tis true. I am of older blood, the blood of the Bright Empire itself, the Blood of R'lin K'ren A'a which Cran Liret mocked, not understanding what it was he laughed at. Aye, though forced to summon aid from Chaos, I made no bargain to become a slave in your realm…"

"I assure you — um — your majesty, " said Una, "that we had not meant to insult you and your presence here was no doing of ours. I am, as it happens, a stranger here myself. I came especially to see you, to help you escape…"

"Ha! " said the albino. "I have heard such words before. You would lure me into some worse trap than this. Tell me, where is Duke Arioch? He, at least, I owe some allegiance to."

"We have no-one of that name, " apologized Mistress Christia. She enquired of Gaf, who knew everyone. "No time traveller?"

"None, " Gaf studied Elric's eyes and made a small adjustment to his own. He sat back, satisfied.

Elric shuddered and turned away mumbling.

"You are very welcome here, " said Werther. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to meet one as essentially morbid and self-pitying as myself! "

Elric did not seem flattered.

"What can we do to make you feel at home?" asked Mistress Christia. She had changed her hair to a rather glossy blue in the hope, perhaps, that Elric would find it more attractive. "Is there anything you need?"

"Need? Aye. Peace of mind. Knowledge of my true destiny. A quiet place where I can be with Cymoril, whom I love."

"What does this Cymoril look like?" Mistress Christia became just a trifle over-eager.

"She is the most beautiful creature in the universe, " said Elric.

"It isn't very much to go on, " said Mistress Christia. "If you could imagine a picture, perhaps? There are devices in the old cities which could visualize your thoughts. We could go there. I should be happy to fill in for her, as it were…"

"What? You offer me a simulacrum? Do you not think I should detect such witchery at once? Ah, this is loathsome! Slay me, if you will, or continue the torment. I'll listen no longer! "

They were floating now, between high cliffs. On a ledge far below a group of time travellers pointed up at them. One waved desperately.

"You've offended him, Mistress Christia, " said Werther pettishly. "You don't understand how sensitive he is."

"Yes I do." She was aggrieved. "I was only being sympathetic."

"Sympathy! " Elric rubbed at his long, somewhat pointed jaw. "Ha! What do I want with sympathy?"

"I never heard anyone who wanted it more." Mistress Christia was kind. "You're like a little boy, really, aren't you?"

"Compared to the ancient Lords of Chaos, I am a child, aye. But my blood is old and cold, the blood of decaying Melnibone, as well you know." And with a huge sigh the albino seated himself at the far end of the car and rested his head on his fist. "Well? What is your pleasure, my lords and ladies of Hell?"