Elric_ The Sleeping Sorceress - Michael Moorcock [36]
And so he pressed further into the labyrinth, taking a hundred twists and turns in the darkness before he paused again.
He had noticed that he was growing warmer. Now, instead of feeling horribly cold, he felt uncomfortably hot. He was sweating. He removed some of the upper layers of his rags and stood in his own shirt and breeks. He had begun to thirst.
Another turning and he saw light ahead.
“Well, Stormbringer, perhaps we are free after all!”
He began to run towards the source of the light. But it was not daylight, neither was it the light from the portal. This was firelight—of brands, perhaps.
He could see the sides of the tunnel quite clearly in the firelight. Unlike the masonry in the rest of Nadsokor, this was free of filth—a plain, grey stone stained by the red light.
The source of the light was around the next bend. But the heat had grown greater and his flesh stung as the sweat sprang from his pores.
“AAH!”
A great voice suddenly filled the tunnel as Elric rounded the bend and saw the fire leaping not thirty yards distant.
“AAH! AT LAST!”
The voice came from the fire.
And Elric knew he had found the Burning God.
“I have no quarrel with you, my lord of Chaos!” he called. “I, too, serve Chaos!”
“But I must eat,” came the voice. “CHECKALAKH MUST EAT!”
“I am poor food for one such as you,” Elric said reasonably, putting both his hands around Stormbringer’s hilt and taking a step backward.
“Aye, beggar, that thou art—but thou art the only food they send!”
“I’m no beggar!”
“Beggar or not, Checkalakh will devour thee!”
The flames shook and a shape began to be made of them. It was a human shape but composed entirely of flame. Flickering hands of fire stretched out towards Elric.
And Elric turned.
And Elric ran.
And Checkalakh, the Burning God, came fast as a flash fire behind him.
Elric felt pain in his shoulder and he smelled burning cloth. He increased his speed, having no notion of where he ran.
And still the Burning God pursued him.
“Stop, mortal! It is futile! Thou canst not escape Checkalakh of Chaos!”
Elric shouted back in desperate humour. “I’ll be no-one’s roast pork!” His step began to falter. “Not—not even a god’s!”
Like the roar of flames up a chimney, Checkalakh replied, “Do not defy me, mortal! It is an honour to feed a god!”
Both the heat and the effort of running were exhausting Elric. A plan of sorts had formed in his brain when he had first encountered the Burning God. That was why he had started to run.
But now, as Checkalakh came on, he was forced to turn.
“Thou art somewhat feeble for so mighty a Lord of Chaos,” he panted, readying his sword.
“My long sojourn here has weakened me,” Checkalakh replied, “else I would have caught thee ere now! But catch thee I will! And devour thee I must!”
Stormbringer whined its defiance at the enfeebled Chaos god and blade struck out at flaming head and gashed the god’s right cheek so that paler fire flickered there and something ran up the black blade and into Elric’s heart so that he trembled in a mixture of terror and joy as some of the Burning God’s life-force entered him.
Eyes of flame stared at the Black Sword and then at Elric. Brows of flame furrowed and Checkalakh halted.
“Thou art no ordinary beggar, ’tis true!”
“I am Elric of Melniboné and I bear the Black Sword. Lord Arioch is my master—a more powerful entity than you, Lord Checkalakh.”
Something akin to misery passed across the god’s fiery countenance. “Aye—there are many more powerful than me, Elric of Melniboné.”
Elric wiped sweat from his face. He drew in great gulps of burning air. “Then why—why not combine your strength with mine? Together we can tear down the portal and take vengeance on those who have conspired to bring us together.”
Checkalakh shook his head and little tongues of fire fell from it. “The portal will only open when I am dead. So it was decreed when Lord Donblas of Law imprisoned me here. Even if we were successful in destroying the portal—it would result in my death. Therefore, most powerful of mortals, I must fight