Vanishing Tower - Michael Moorcock [3]
Moonglum shouted over the noise of the water: "We'll not reach Stagasaz by nightfall now!"
Elric nodded. "We'll make camp below the rapids. There."
The snow was still falling and the wind drove it against their faces so that it became even more difficult to pick their way along the narrow track that now wound high above the river.
But at last the tumult began to die and the track widened out and the waters calmed and, with relief, they looked about them over the plain to find a likely camping place.
It was Moonglum who saw them first.
His finger was unsteady as he pointed into the sky towards the north.
"Elric. What make you of those?"
Elric peered up into the lowering sky, brushing snowflakes from his face.
His expression was at first puzzled. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed.
Black shapes against the sky.
Winged shapes.
It was impossible at this distance to judge their scale, but they did not fly the way birds fly. Elric was reminded of another flying creature—a creature he had last seen when he and the Sealords fled burning Imrryr and the folk of Melniboné had released their vengeance upon the reavers.
That vengeance had taken two forms.
The first form had been the golden battle-barges which had waited for the attack as they left the Dreaming City.
The second form had been the great dragons of the Bright Empire.
And these creatures in the distance had something of the look of dragons.
Had the Melnibonéans discovered a means of waking the dragons before the end of their normal sleeping time? Had they unleashed their dragons to seek out Elric, who had slain his own kin, betrayed his own un-human kind in order to have revenge on his cousin Yyrkoon who had usurped Elric's place on the Ruby Throne of Imrryr?
Now Elric's expression hardened into a grim mask. His crimson eyes shone like polished rubies. His left hand fell upon the hilt of his great black battleblade, the runesword Stormbringer, and he controlled a rising sense of horror.
For now, in mid-air, the shapes had changed. No longer did they have the appearance of dragons, but this time they seemed to be like multicoloured swans, whose gleaming feathers caught and diffracted the few remaining rays of light.
Moonglum gasped as they came nearer.
"They are huge!"
"Draw your swords, friend Moonglum. Draw them now and pray to whatever gods rule over Elwher. For these are creatures of sorcery and they are doubtless sent by Theleb K'aarna to destroy us. My respect for that conjurer increases."
"What are they, Elric?"
"Creatures of Chaos. In Melniboné they are called the Oonai. They can change shape at will. A sorcerer of great mental discipline, of superlative powers, who knows the apposite spells can master them and determine their appearance. Some of my ancestors could do such things, but I thought no mere conjurer of Pan Tang could master the chimerae!"
"Do you know no spell to counter them?"
"None comes readily to mind. Only a Lord of Chaos such as my patron demon Arioch could dismiss them."
Moonglum shuddered. "Then call your Arioch, I beg you!"
Elric darted a half-amused glance at Moonglum. "These creatures must fill you with great fear indeed if you are prepared to entertain the presence of Arioch, Master Moonglum."
Moonglum drew his long, curved sword. "Perhaps they have no business with us," he suggested. "But it is as well to be prepared."
Elric smiled. "Aye."
Then Moonglum drew his straight sword, curling his horse's reins around his arm.
A shrill, cackling sound from the skies.
The horses pawed at the ground.
The cackling grew louder. The creatures opened their beaks and called to one another and it was very plain now that they were indeed something other than gigantic swans, for they had curling tongues. And there were slim, sharp fangs bristling in those beaks. They changed direction slightly, winging straight