Elric_ The Stealer of Souls - Michael Moorcock [140]
“We have forgotten it for good reason, mortal. The Balance has tipped to such an extent in our favour that it is no longer adjustable. We triumph!”
Elric used this pause to collect himself. Sensing his renewed strength, Stormbringer responded with a confident purr.
The dukes also sensed it and glanced at one another.
Arioch’s beautiful face seemed to flare with anger and his pseudo-body glided down the steps towards Elric, his fellow dukes following.
Elric’s steed backed away a few paces.
A blot of living fire appeared in Arioch’s hand and it shot towards the albino. He felt cold pain in his chest and he staggered in the saddle.
“Your body is unimportant, Elric. But think of a similar blow to your soul!” The façade of patience was dropping from Arioch.
Elric flung back his head and laughed. Arioch had betrayed himself. If he had remained calm, he would have had a greater advantage, but now he showed himself perturbed, whatever he had said to the contrary.
“Arioch, you aided me in the past, aided me to live. You will regret that!”
“There’s still time to undo my folly, upstart man!” Another bolt came streaking towards him, but he passed Stormbringer before it and, in relief, saw that it deflected the unholy weapon.
But against such might they were surely doomed, unless they could invoke some supernatural aid. But Elric dared not risk summoning his runesword’s brothers. Not yet. He must think of some other means. As he retreated before the searing bolts, Moonglum behind him whispering almost impotent charms, he thought of the vulture-lions he had sent back to Chaos. Perhaps he could recall them—for a different purpose.
The spell was fresh in his mind, requiring a slightly changed mental state and scarcely changed wording. Calmly, mechanically deflecting the bolts of the dukes, whose features had changed hideously to retain their previous beauty but take on an increasingly malevolent look, he uttered the spell.
“Creatures! Matik of Melniboné made thee,
From stuff of unformed madness!
If thou wouldst live, then aid me now.
Come hither, or Matik’s brew again shall be!”
From out of the rolling darks of the plaza, the beaked beasts prowled. Elric yelled at the dukes. “Mortal weapons cannot harm you! But these are beasts of your own plane! Sample their ferocity!” In the bizarre tongue of Melniboné, he ordered the vulture-lions upon the dukes.
Apprehensively, Arioch and his fellows backed towards the steps again, calling their own commands to the giant animals, but the things advanced, gathering speed.
Elric saw Arioch shout, rave, and then his body seemed to split asunder and rise in a new, less recognizable shape as the beasts attacked. All was suddenly ragged colour, shrill sound and disordered matter. Behind the embattled demons, Elric saw Jagreen Lern running back into his palace. Hoping that the creatures he had summoned would hold the dukes, Elric rode his horse around the boiling mass and galloped up the steps.
Through the doors, the two men rode, catching a glimpse of the terrified Theocrat running before them.
“Your allies were not so strong as you believed, Jagreen Lern!” Elric yelled as he bore down upon his enemy. “Why, you foolish latecomer, did you think your knowledge matched that of a Melnibonéan!”
Jagreen Lern began to climb a winding staircase, labouring up the steps, too afraid to look back. Elric laughed again and pulled his horse to a stop, watching the running man.
“Dukes! Dukes!” sobbed Jagreen Lern as he climbed. “Do not desert me now!”
Moonglum whispered. “Surely those creatures will not defeat the