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By Root 498 0

the doorway of the temple. That energy which had already destroyed this realm also gave a semblance of life to the creeping half-things which now confronted Elric and von Bek. Captain Quelch, claiming that he had no weapon, had gone to stand with the children, his arms out in a parody of protection. “Good luck with that elephant gun, old man,” he said to Count von Bek, who lifted the weapon to his shoulder, took careful aim, squeezed the trigger and, in his own words, “put a couple of pounds of Purdy’s best into the blighters.” There was a hideous splash of ichor and soft flesh. Elric stepped away fastidiously as his companion again took aim and again pounded the horrible creatures back from the door. “Though I think it fair to warn you, Prince Elric, that I only have a couple more of these left. After that, it’s down to the old Smith and Wesson, I’m afraid.” And he tapped the pouch at his belt.

But the weapon was needed elsewhere as, against all the windows high in the walls, there came a rattling of scales and a scratching of claws and von Bek fell back to cover the centre while Elric stepped forward, his black runesword moaning with anticipation, pulsing with dark fire, its runes writhing and skipping in the unholy metal, the whole terrible weapon independent within the grip of its wielder, possessed of a profound and sinister life of its own, rising and falling now as the white prince moved against the Chaos creatures, drinking their life-stuff. What remained of their souls passed directly into the deficient body of the Melnibonéan, whose own eyes blazed in that unwholesome glory, whose own lips were drawn back in a wolfish snarl, his body splashed from head to foot with the filthy fluids of his post-human antagonists.

The sword began to utter a great, triumphant dirge as its thirst was satisfied, and Elric howled too, the ancient battle shouts of his people, calling upon the aristocracy of hell, upon its patron demons, and upon Lord Arioch, as the malformed corpses piled themselves higher and higher in the doorway, while von Bek’s weapons banged and cracked, defending the windows.

“These things will keep attacking us,” called von Bek. “There’s no end to them. We must escape. It is our only hope, else we shall be overwhelmed soon enough.”

Elric agreed. He leaned, panting, on his blade, regarding his hideous work, his eyes cold with a death-light, his face a martial mask. “I have a distaste for this kind of butchery,” he said. “But I know nothing else to do.”

“You must take the sword to the centre,” said a pure, liquid voice. It was the girl, Far-Seeing.

She left the group, pushing past an uncertain Captain Quelch and reaching fearlessly out to the pulsing sword, its alien metal streaming with corrupted blood. “To the centre.”

Von Bek, Captain Quelch and the other children stared in amazed silence as the girl’s hand settled upon that awful blade, drawing it and its wielder through their parting ranks to where the corpse of the old man lay.

“The centre lies beneath his heart,” said Far-Seeing. “You must pierce his heart and drive the sword beyond his heart. Then the sword will sing and you will sing, too.”

“I know nothing of any sword song,” said Elric again, but his protest was a ritual one. He found himself trusting the tranquil certainty of the girl, her deft movements, the way she guided him until he stood straddling the peaceful body of the master wizard.

“He is rich with the best of Law,” said Far-Seeing. “And it is that stuff which, for a while, will fill your sword and make it work for us, perhaps even against its own interests.”

“You know much of my sword, my lady,” said Elric, puzzled.

The girl closed her eyes. “I am against the sword and I am of the sword and my name is Swift Thorn.” Her voice was a chant, as if another occupied her body. She had no notion of the meaning of the words which issued from her. “I am for the sword and I replace the sword. I am of the sisters. I am of the Just. It is our destiny to turn the ebony to silver, to seek the light, to create justice.”

Von Bek leaned forward.