Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [57]
She drew a deep breath. “Well, I’m grateful for your aid, sir.”
He inclined his head. “Now had we better not move on towards the Marador Gate? There are more, if less unexpected, dangers ahead of us in the Shark’s Gullet. The map marks ‘em.”
“Would that I had a weapon at my side,” said Elric, feelingly. “I would be more confident, whether it were an illusion or no!” But he marched beside the others as they moved on towards the mountain.
The cat remained behind, licking his paws and cleaning himself, for all the world like an ordinary domestic creature which had killed a pantry-raiding mouse.
At last the ground began to rise as they reached the shallow foothills of the Shark’s Jaws and saw ahead of them a great, dark fissure in the mountains, the Gullet which would lead them through to the next land of their journey. In the heat of the barren wilderness the pass looked cool and almost welcoming, though even from here Elric thought he could see shapes moving in it. White shadows flickered against the black.
“What manner of people live here?” he asked Oone, who had not shown him the map.
“Chiefly those who have either lost their way or become too fearful to continue the journey inwards. The other name for the pass is the Valley of Timid Souls.” Oone shrugged. “But I suspect it is not from them that we shall be in danger. At least, not greatly. They’ll ally themselves with whatever power rules the pass.”
“And the map says nothing of its nature?”
“Only that we should be wary.”
There came a noise from behind them and Elric turned, expecting threat, but it was only Whiskers, looking a little plumper, a little sleeker, but back to his normal size, who had at last caught up with them.
Jaspar Colinadous laughed and bent to let the cat leap onto his shoulder. “We have no need of weapons, eh? Not with such a handsome beast to defend us!”
The cat licked his face.
Elric was peering into the dark pass, trying to determine what he might find there. For a moment he thought he saw a rider at the entrance, a man mounted on a silvery-grey horse, wearing strange armour of different shades of white and grey and yellow. The warrior’s horse reared as he turned it and rode back into the blackness and Elric knew a sensation of foreboding, though he had never seen the figure before.
Oone and Jaspar Colinadous were apparently unaware of the apparition and continued with untiring stride in the direction of the pass.
Elric said nothing of the rider but instead asked Oone how it was that they had all walked for hours and felt neither hungry nor weary.
“It is one of the advantages of this realm,” she said. “The disadvantages are considerable, however, since a sense of time is easily lost and one can forget direction and goals. Moreover it’s wise to bear in mind that while one does not appear to lose physical energy or experience hunger, other forms of energy are being expended. Psychic and spiritual they may be, but they are just as valuable, as I’m sure you appreciate. Conserve those particular resources, Prince Elric, for you’ll have urgent need of them soon enough!”
Elric wondered if she, too, had caught sight of the pale warrior but, for a reason he could not understand, was reluctant to ask her.
The hills were growing ever taller around them as, subtly, they moved into the Shark’s Gullet. The light was dimmer already, blocked by the mountains, and Elric felt a chill which was not altogether the result of the shade.