Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [80]
“Aye. Is there danger in the realm we left?”
“Perhaps. Queen Sough, are we far from the Nameless Gate? How can we continue?”
“By means of the moth-steeds,” she said. “The waters always rise here and I have my moths. We have only to wait for them. They are on their way.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. “It was that rabble which could have been yours. No more. But I cannot anticipate, you see. Every new trap is mysterious to me, as to you. I can navigate, as you navigate. This is together, you know.”
Against the horizon there were rainbow lights winking and shimmering, like an aurora. Queen Sough sighed when she saw them. She was content.
“Good. Good. That is not late! Just the other.”
The colours filled the sky now. As they came closer Elric realized that they belonged to huge, filmy wings supporting slender bodies, more butterfly than moth, of enormous size. Without hesitation the beasts began to descend until the three of them as well as the barge were engulfed by soft wings.
“Into the boat!” cried Queen Sough. “Quickly. We fly.”
They hurried to obey her and at once the barge was rising into the air, apparently carried on the backs of the great moths, who flew beside the canyon for a while before plunging down into the abyss.
“I watched but there was nothing,” said Queen Sough by way of explanation to Elric and Oone. “Now we shall resume.”
With astonishing gentleness the creatures had deposited the barge on the river and were flying back up between the walls of the canyon again, filling the whole gloomy place with brilliant multicoloured light before they vanished. Elric rubbed at his brow. “This is truly the Land of Madness,” he said. “I believe it is I who am mad, Lady Oone.”
“You are losing confidence in yourself, Prince Elric.” She spoke firmly. “That is the particular trap of this land. You come to believe that it is yourself, not what surrounds you, that has little logic. Already we have imposed our sanity on Falador. Do not despair. It cannot be much longer before we reach the final gate.”
“And what is there?” He was sardonic. “Sublime reason?” He felt the same strange sense of exhaustion. Physically he was still capable of continuing, but his mind and his spirit were depleted.
“I cannot begin to anticipate what we shall find in the Nameless Land,” she said. “Dreamthieves have little power over what occurs beyond the seventh gate.”
“I’ve noticed your considerable influence here!” But he did not mean to hurt her. He smiled to show that he joked.
From ahead they heard a howling, so painful that even Queen Sough covered her ears. It was like the baying of some monstrous hound, echoing up and down the abyss and threatening to shake the very boulders loose from the walls. As the river bore them round the bend they saw the beast standing there, a great shaggy wolflike beast, its head lifted as it howled again. The water rushed around its huge legs, foamed against its body. As it turned its gaze upon them the beast vanished completely. They heard only the echo of its howling. The speed of the water increased. Queen Sough had removed her hands from the tiller to block her ears. The boat swung in the water and bounced as it struck a rock. She made no attempt to steer it. Elric seized the long arm but in spite of using all his strength he could do nothing with the boat. Eventually, he, too, gave up.
Down and down the river ran. Down into a gorge growing so deep that soon there was scarcely any light at all. They saw faces grinning at them. They felt hands reach out to touch them. Elric became convinced that every mortal creature who had ever died had come here to haunt him. In the dark rock he saw his own face many times, and those of Cymoril and Yyrkoon. Old battles were fought as he watched. And old, agonizing, emotions came back to him. He felt the loss of all he had ever loved, the despair of death and desertion, and soon his own voice joined the general babble and he howled as loudly as the hound had howled until Oone shook him and yelled at him and brought him back from