Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [63]
Oone gestured. “And there may be those who would hamper us. It is now clear, Prince Elric, that our mission is suspected and that certain forces could well have the intention of stopping us at any cost.”
“You think the Sorcerer Adventurers have followed us?”
“Or preceded us. Leaving at least something of themselves here.” She was peering cautiously towards the city.
“It seems such a peaceful place,” said Elric. The more he looked at the city the more he was impressed by the architecture, all of the same greenish stone but varying from yellow to blue. There were vast buttresses and curving bridges between one tower and another; there were spires as delicate as cobwebs yet so tall they almost disappeared into the roofs of the cavern. It seemed to reflect some part of him which he could not at once recall. He longed to go there. He grew resentful of Oone’s guidance, though he had sworn to follow it, and began to believe that she herself was lost, that she was not better suited to discover their goal than was he.
“We must continue,” she said. She was speaking more urgently now.
“I know I would find something within that city which would make Imrryr great again. And in her greatness I could lead her to dominate the world. But this time, instead of bringing cruelty and terror, we could bring beauty and good will.”
“You are more prone to illusion than I thought, Prince Elric,” said Oone.
He turned on her angrily. “What’s wrong with such ambitions?”
“They are unrealistic. As unreal as that city.”
“The city looks solid enough to me.”
“Solid? Aye, in its way. Once you enter its gate it will embrace you as thoroughly as any long-lost lover! Come then, sir. Come!” She seemed seized by an equally poor temper and strode on up an obsidian road which twisted along the hill towards the city.
Startled by her sudden change, Elric followed. But now his own anger was dissipating. “I’ll abide, madam, by your judgment. I am sorry…”
She was not listening to him. Moment by moment the city came closer until soon they were overshadowed by it, looking up at walls and domes and towers whose size was so tremendous it was almost impossible to guess at their true extent.
“There’s a gate,” she said. “There! Go through and I’ll say farewell. I’ll try to save the child myself and you can give yourself up to lost beliefs and so lose the beliefs you currently hold!”
And now Elric looked closer at the walls, which were like jade, and he saw dark shapes within the walls and he saw that the dark shapes were the figures of men, women and children. He gasped as he stepped forward to peer at them, observing living faces, eyes which were undying, lips frozen in expressions of terror, of anguish, of misery. They were like so many flies in amber.
“That’s the unchanging past, Prince Elric,” said Oone. “That’s the fate of those who seek to reclaim their lost beliefs without first experiencing the search for new ones. This city has another name. Dreamthieves call it the City of Inventive Cowardice. You would not understand the twists of logic which brought so many to this pass! Which made them force those they loved to share their fate. Would you stay with them, Prince Elric, and nurse your lost beliefs?”
The albino turned away with a shudder. “But if they could see what had happened to earlier travelers, why did they continue into the city?”
“They blinded themselves to the obvious. That is the great triumph of mindless need over intelligence and the human spirit.”
Together the two returned to the path below the city and Elric was relieved when the beautiful towers were far behind and they had passed through several more great caverns, each with its own city, though none as magnificent as the first. These he had felt no desire to visit, though he had detected movement in some and Oone had said she suspected not all were as dangerous as the City of Inventive Cowardice.
“You called this world the Dream Realm,” he said, “and indeed it’s well-named, madam, for it seems to contain a catalogue of dreams, and not a few nightmares.