PART THREE

Is there a brave lord birthed by Fate

To wield old weapons, win new estates

And tear down walls Time sanctifies,

Raze ancient temples as hallowed lies,

His pride to break, his love to lose,

Destroying his race, his history, his muse,

And, relinquishing peace for a life of strife,

Leave only a corpse that the flies refuse?

The Chronicle of the Black Sword

1 At the Court of the Pearl

Again Elric experienced that strange frisson of recognition at the landscape before bun, though he could not remember ever seeing anything like it. Pale blue mist rose around cypresses, date palms, orange trees and poplars whose shades of green were equally pale; flowing meadows occasionally revealed the rounded white of boulders and in the far distance were snow-peaked mountains. It was as if an artist had painted the scenery with the most delicate of washes, the finest of brushstrokes. It was a vision of Paradise and completely unexpected after the insanity of Falador.

Queen Sough had remained silent since she had answered Elric's question and a peculiar atmosphere had developed among the three of them. Yet all the uneasiness failed to affect Elric's delight at the world they had entered. The skies (if skies they were) were full of pearly cloud, tinged by pink and the faintest yellow, and a little white smoke rose up from a flat-roofed house some distance away. The barge had come to rest in a pool of still, sparkling water and Queen Sough gestured for them to disembark.

"You will come with us to the Fortress?" asked Gone.

"She does not know. I do not know if it is permitted," said the Queen, her eyes hooded above her veil.

"Then I shall say farewell now," and Elric bowed and kissed the woman's soft hand. "I thank you for your assistance, madam, and trust you will forgive me for the crudeness of my manners."

"Forgiven, yes." Elric, looking up, thought Queen Sough smiled.

"I thank you also, my lady." Done spoke almost intimately, as to one with whom she might share a secret. "Know you how we shall find the Fortress of the Pearl?"

"That one will know." The Queen pointed towards the distant cottage. "Farewell, as you say. You can save her. Only you."

"I am grateful for your confidence also," said Elric. He stepped almost jauntily onto the turf and followed Gone as they made their way across the fields to the little house. "This is a great relief, my lady. A contrast, indeed, to the Land of Madness!"

"Aye." She responded a trifle cautiously, and her hand went to the hilt of her sword. "But remember, Prince Elric, that madness takes many forms in all worlds."

He did not allow her wariness to let him lose his enjoyment. He was determined to restore himself to the peak of his energies, in preparation for whatever might lie ahead.

Gone was first to reach the door of the white house. Outside were two chickens scratching in the gravel, an old dog, tethered to a barrel, who looked up at them over a grey muzzle and grinned, a pair of short-coated cats cleaning their silvery fur on the roof over the lintel. Gone knocked and the door was opened almost immediately. A tall, handsome young man stood there, his head covered by an old bur-noose, his body clad in a light brown robe with long sleeves. He seemed pleased to see visitors.

"Greetings to you," he said. "I am Chamog Borm, currently in exile. Have you come with good news from the Court?"

"We have no news at all, I fear," said Gone. "We are travellers and we seek the Fortress of the Pearl. Is it close by here?"

"At the heart and the centre of those mountains." He waved with his hand towards the peaks. "Will you join me for some refreshment?"

The name the young man had given, together with his extraordinary looks, caused Elric again to rack his brains, trying to recall why all this was so familiar to him. He knew that he had only recently heard the name.

Within the cool house, Chamog Borm brewed them a herbal drink. He seemed proud of his domestic skills and it was clear he was no simple farmer. In one corner of the room was heaped a pile of rich armour, steel chased with silver and gold, a helm decorated with a tall spike, that spike decorated with ornamental snakes and falcons locked hi conflict. There were spears, a long, curved sword, daggers -weapons and accoutrements of every description.

"You are a warrior by trade?" said Elric as he sipped the hot liquid. "Your armour is very handsome."

"I was once a hero," said Chamog Borm sadly, "until I was dismissed from the Court of the Pearl."

"Dismissed?" Gone was thoughtful. "On what charge?"

Chamog Borm lowered his eyes. "I was charged with cowardice. Yet I believe that I was not guilty, that I was subject to an enchantment."

And now Elric recalled where he had heard the name. When he had arrived in Quarzhasaat he had in his fever wandered hi the market places and listened to the story-tellers. At least three of the stories he had heard had concerned Chamog Borm, hero of legend, the last brave knight of the Empire. His name was venerated everywhere, even hi the camps of the nomads. Yet Elric was sure Chamog Borm had existed-if he had ever existed-at least a thousand years earlier!

"What was the action of which you were accused?" he asked.

"I failed to save the Pearl, which now lies under an enchantment, imprisoning us all in perpetual suffering."

"What was that enchantment?" Oone asked quickly.

"It became impossible for our monarch and many of the retainers to leave the Fortress. It was for me to free them. Instead I brought a worse enchantment upon us. And my punishment is contrary to theirs. They may not leave, and I may not return." As he spoke he became increasingly melancholy.

Elric, still astonished at this conversation with a hero who should have been dead centuries before, could say little, but Oone seemed to understand completely. She made a sympathetic gesture.

"Can the Pearl be found there?" Elric asked, conscious of the bargain he had made with Lord Gho, of Anigh's impending torture and death, of Oone's predictions.

"Of course." Chamog Bonn was surprised. "Some believe it rules the whole Court, perhaps the world."

"Was this always so?" Oone asked softly.

"I have told you that it was not." He looked at them both as if they were simpletons. Then he lowered his eyes, lost in his own dishonour and humiliation.

"We hope to free her," said Oone. "Would you come with us, to help us?"

"I cannot help. She no longer trusts me. I am banished," he said. "But I can let you have my armour and my weapons so that part of me, at least, can fight for her."

"Thank you," said Oone. "You are generous."

Chamog Borm grew more animated as he helped them choose from his store. Elric found that the breastplate and greaves fitted him perfectly, as did the helmet. Similar equipment was found for Oone and the straps tightened to adjust to her slightly smaller body. They looked almost identical in then- new armour and something in Elric was again struck, some deep sense of satisfaction that he could hardly understand but which he welcomed. The armour gave him not only a greater sense of security but a sense of deep recognition of his own inner strength, a strength which he knew he must call upon to the utmost in the encounter to come. Oone had warned him of subtler dangers at the Fortress of the Pearl.

Chamog Borm's gifts continued, in the shape of two grey horses which he led from their stable at the back of the house. "These are Taron and Tadia. Brother and sister, they were twin foals. They have never been separated. Once I rode them into battle. Once I took up arms against the Bright Empire. Now the last Emperor of Melniboné will ride in my place to fulfill my destiny and end the siege of the Fortress of the Pearl."

"You know me?" Elric looked hard at the handsome youth, seeking deception or even irony, but there was none in those steady eyes.

"A hero knows another, Prince Elric." And Chamog Borm reached out to grip Elric's forearm in the gesture of friendship of the desert peoples. "May you gain all you wish to gain and may you do so with honour. You, too, Lady Oone. Your courage is the greatest of all. Farewell."

The exile watched them from the roof of his little house until they were out of sight. Now the great mountains were close, almost embracing them, and they could see a wide, white road stretching through them. The light was like that of a late summer afternoon, though Elric could still not be sure if it was sky above them or the distant roof of a vast cavern, for the sun was still not in evidence. Was the Dream Realm a limitless series of such caverns or had the dreamthief mapped the entire world? Could they cross the mountains, or the Nameless Land beyond and begin again to travel through the seven gates, ultimately arriving back at the Land of Dreams-in-Common? And would they find Jaspar Colinadous waiting for them where they had left him?

The road, when they reached it, proved to be of pure marble, but the horses' hooves were so well shod they did not slip once. The noise of their galloping began to echo through the wide pass and herds of gazelles and wild sheep looked up from their grazing to watch them pass, two silver riders on silver horses on their way to do battle with the forces who had seized power at the Fortress of the Pearl.

"You have understood these people better than I," he said to Oone, as the road began to twist upward towards the centre of the range and the light had grown colder, the sky a bright, hard grey. "Do you know what we might expect to find at the Fortress of the Pearl?"

She shook her head in regret. "It is like understanding a code without knowing what the words actually relate to," she told him. "The force is powerful enough to banish a hero as potent as Chamog Borm."

"I know only the legend, and that from a little I heard in the Slave Market at Quarzhasaat."

"He was summoned by the Holy Girl as soon as she realised that she was under further attack. That is what I believe, at any rate. She did not expect him to fail her. Somehow, indeed, he made matters worse. She felt betrayed by him and banished him to the edge of the Nameless Land, there perhaps to greet and assist others who might come to help her. That is no doubt why we are given all the appurtenances of the hero, so that we may be as much like heroes as he."

"Yet we know this world less well. How may we succeed where he failed?"

"Perhaps because of our ignorance," she said. "Perhaps not. I cannot answer you, Elric." She rode close to him, leaning from her saddle to kiss that part of his cheek exposed by the helmet. "Only know this. I will betray neither her nor, if I can help it, you. Yet if I must betray one of you, I suppose it will be you."

Elric looked at her in bafflement. "Is that likely to be an issue?"

She shrugged and then she sighed. "I do not know, Elric. Look. I think we have come to the Fortress of the Pearl!"

It was like a palace carved from the most delicate ivory. White against the silver sky, it rose above the snows of the mountain, a great multitude of slender spires and turretted towers, of cupolas, of mysterious structures which seemed almost as if they had been arrested in mid-Sight. There were bridges and stairways, curving walls and galleries, balconies and roof-gardens whose colours were a spectrum of pastel shades, a myriad of different plants, flowers, shrubs and trees. In all his travels Elric had only seen one place that was the equal to the Fortress of the Pearl and that was his own city, Imrryr. Yet the Dreaming City was exotic, rich, even vulgar-a romantic fancy compared to the complicated austerity of this palace.

As they approached on the marble road, Elric realised that the Fortress was not pure white, but contained shades of blue, silver, grey and pink, sometimes a little yellow or green, and he had the notion that the entire thing had been carved from a single gigantic pearl. Soon they had reached the Fortress's only gate, a great circular opening protected by spiked grilles which came from above and below and both sides to meet at the centre. The Fortress was vast but even its gate dwarfed them.

Elric could think of nothing to do but cry out. "Open in the name of the Holy Girl! We come to do battle with those who imprison her spirit here!"

His words echoed through the towers of the Fortress and through the jagged peaks of the mountains beyond and seemed to lose themselves in the heights of a cavern's roof. In the shadows beyond the gateway he saw something scarlet move and then vanish again. There came the smell of delicious perfume, mixed with the same strange ocean scent they had noticed when they first reached the Nameless Land.

Then the gates had parted, so swiftly that they seemed to melt into the air, and a rider confronted them, his humourless chuckling by now all too familiar.

"This is what should be, I think," said the Pearl Warrior.

"League yourself with us again, Pearl Warrior," said Oone, with all her considerable authority. "It is what she desires!"

"No. It is so that she shall not be betrayed. You must dissolve. Now! Now! Now!" His head was flung back as he screamed these last words, for all the world like a dog gone rabid.

Elric drew a sword from its scabbard. It shone with the same silver light that poured from the Pearl Warrior's blade. Gone followed his example, though more reluctantly.

"We shall pass now, Pearl Warrior."

"Nothing will here! I want your freedom."

"She shall have it!" said Oone. "It is not yours, not unless she bestows it upon you herself."

"She says it is mine. I will be that. I will be that!"

Elric could not follow this strange conversation and he chose not to waste time with it. He urged his silver horse forward, the blade glaring in his hand. So balanced was this sword, so familiar to his grip, that he felt for a moment that it was somehow the natural contrast to his runesword. Was this a sword forged by Law to serve its purposes, just as Stormbringer had, by all accounts, been forged by Chaos?

The Pearl Warrior guffawed and widened his awful eyes. Death was in them. The death of the world. He lowered the same misshapen lance he had brandished at them before and Elric saw it was encrusted with old blood. The warrior held his ground and the lance was suddenly threatening Elric's eyes so that the albino had to throw himself to one side to avoid its points, striking upward as he did so and feeling a greater resistance to his blow than anything he had felt before. The Pearl Warrior seemed to have gained strength since their last encounter.

"Ordinary soul!" The lips twisted in this insult, clearly as disgusting as any the Pearl Warrior could conceive. And he began to chuckle again, this time because Oone was riding at him, her sword stretched out full before her, a spear held in her other hand, her reins between her teeth. The sword drove forward, the spear swung back as she poised to throw. Then sword and spear struck the Pearl Warrior at the exact same moment so that his breastplate cracked like the shell of some great crustacean and was pierced by the sword.

Elric marvelled at this strategy which he had never witnessed before. Oone's strength and coordination were almost beyond credibility. It was a feat of arms warriors would speak of for a thousand years to come, which many would try to emulate and would die in the trying.

The spear had done its work in breaking open the Pearl Warrior's armour and the sword had completed the action. But the Pearl Warrior had not been killed.

He groaned. He cackled. He floundered. His sword came up as if to protect his chest from the blow already struck. His great horse reared and its nostrils flared with fury. Oone turned her own mount away. Her sword had left its tip in the Pearl Warrior's body. She was reaching for a second spear, for her dagger.

Elric drove forward again, his own spear aimed at the cracked armour, hoping to follow her example, but the blade struck the ivory and was turned. Elric lost balance long enough for the Pearl Warrior to take the advantage. The sword struck the steel of Elric's armour with a noise that made a cacophony within his helmet and brought bright sparks flashing like a fire. He fell onto his horse's neck, barely able to block the next thrust. Then the Pearl Warrior shrieked, the eyes growing still wider, the mouth gaping red and the foul breath steaming from it, while blood poured from under the gorget between his helmet and his breastplate. He fell towards Elric and the albino realised that the haft of a spear was sticking from his chest in exactly the same place where Oone had broken the creature's armour. , "This will not remain so!" cried the Pearl Warrior. It was a threat. "I cannot do that thing!"

Then he tumbled in a heap from his horse and clattered like old bones onto the flagstones of the courtyard. From behind him an ornamental fountain, representing a fig tree in full fruit, began to spurt water, filling the surrounding trough and overflowing until it touched the body of the Pearl Warrior. The riderless horse began to scream, turning round and round, rearing, foaming, then it galloped out through the gate and back down the marble road.

Elric turned the heavy corpse over to make sure that no life was left in the Pearl Warrior and to inspect the shattered armour. He remained admiring of Oone's manoeuvre. "I have never seen that done before," he said, "and I have fought beside and against famous warriors."

"A dreamthief must know many things," she said, by way of acknowledgement of his praise. "I learned such tactics from my mother, who was a greater battle-woman than I shall ever be."

"Your mother was a dreamthief?"

"No," said Gone absently as she inspected her ruined sword and then picked up the Pearl Warrior's, "she was a queen." She tested the weight of the dead creature's blade and discarded her own, trying it in her scabbard and finding that it was a little too wide. Carelessly she stuck it in her belt and unhooked the scabbard, throwing it upon the ground. The water from the fountain was around their ankles now and was disturbing their horses.

Leading the steeds, they passed under a heart-shaped arch and into another courtyard. Here, too, fountains played, but these were not flooding. They seemed carved out of ivory, like so much of the Fortress, and represented stylised herons, their beaks meeting at a point above then- heads. Elric was reminded vaguely of the architecture of Quarzhasaat, though this had none of the decadence of that place, none of the look of senile old age which characterised the city at its worst. Had the Fortress been built by the ancestors of the present lords of Quarzhasaat, the Council of Six and One Other? Had some great king fled the city millennia before and journeyed here to the Dream Realm? Was that how the legend of the Pearl had come to Quarzhasaat?

Courtyard after courtyard, each in its own way of extraordinary beauty, followed until Elric began to wonder if this path was merely leading them through the Fortress to the other side.

"For such a large building it's somewhat underpopulated," he said to Gone.

"We shall find the inhabitants soon enough, I think," Oone murmured. Now they ascended a spiral causeway which led around a huge central dome. Although the palace had such a mood and look of austerity, Elric did not find its architecture cold and there was something almost organic about it, as if it had been formed from flesh, then petrified.

Their horses still with them, the sound now muffled by luxurious carpet, they moved through halls and corridors whose walls were hung with tapestries and decorated with mosaics, though they saw no pictures of living things, only geometrical designs.

"We near the heart of the Fortress, I think," Oone told him in a whisper. It was as if she feared to be overheard, yet they had seen no one. She looked beyond tall columns, through a series of rooms seemingly lit by sunshine from without. Following her gaze, Elric had the impression of blue fabric wafting through a door and vanishing. "Who was that?"

"All the same," said Oone to herself. "All the same." Her sword was drawn again, however, and she signed to Elric to imitate her. They entered another courtyard. This one seemed to be open to the sky-the same grey sky they had first seen in the mountains. Gallery after gallery rose up all around them, many storeys to the top. Elric thought he saw faces peering back at him, then something liquid struck his face and he almost inhaled the sickly red stuff which covered his body. More of it was pouring down on them from every part of the gallery and already the courtyard was knee deep in what seemed to Elric to be human blood. He heard a muttering overhead, soft laughter, a cry.

"Stop this!" he shouted, wading to the side of the chamber. "We are here to parley. All we want is the Holy Girl! Give her spirit back to us and we shall leave!"

He was answered by a further shower of blood and he hauled his horse towards the next door. There was a gate across it. He tried to lift it. He tried to bounce it free of its mountings. He looked to Oone, who, wiping the red liquid from herself, joined him. She reached out her long fingers and found some kind of button. The gate opened slowly, almost reluctantly, but it opened. She grinned at him. "Like most men, you become a brute when you panic, my lord."

He was hurt by her joke. "I had no idea I should find such a means of opening the gate, my lady."

"Think of such things in future and you will stand a better chance of survival in this Fortress," she said.

"Why will they not parley with us?"

"They probably do not believe that we are ready to bargain," she said. Then she added: "In reality, I can only guess at their logic. Each adventure of a dreamthief is different from the others, Prince Elric. Come." She led them on past a series of pools full of warm water from which a little steam rose. There were no bathers in the pools. Then Elric thought he saw creatures, perhaps fish, swimming in the depths. He leaned forward to look, but Oone pulled him back. "I warned you. Your curiosity could bring your destruction and mine."

Something threshed and bubbled in the pool and then was gone. All at once the rooms began to shake and the water foamed. Cracks appeared hi the marble floors. Their horses snorted with fear and threatened to lose their footing. Elric himself almost toppled down into one of the fissures which had opened. It was as if an earthquake had suddenly struck the mountains. Yet as they dashed hastily for the next gallery, which opened onto a peaceful lawn, all signs of the earthquake had vanished.

A man approached them. In bearing, he resembled Queen Sough, but he was shorter and older. His white beard hung upon a surcoat of gold cloth and in his hand he held a salver on which were placed two leather bags. "Will you accept the authority of the Fortress of the Pearl?" he said. "I am the seneschal of this place."

"Who do you serve?" Elric asked brusquely. His sword was still hi his hand and he made no effort to disguise his readiness to use it.

The seneschal looked bewildered. "I serve the Pearl, of course. This is the Fortress of the Pearl!"

"Who rules here, old man?" Oone asked him pointedly.

"The Pearl. I have said so." .

"Does no one rule the Pearl?" Elric was mystified.

"No longer, sir. Now, will you take this gold and go? We have no wish to expend more of our energies upon you. They flag, but they are not exhausted. I think you will be dissolved soon."

"We have defeated all your defenders," said Gone. "Why should we want gold?"

"Do you not desire the Pearl?"

Before Elric could answer, Oone silenced him with a warning gesture.

"We come only to secure the release of the Holy Girl."

The seneschal smiled. "They have all made that claim, but what they want is the Pearl. I cannot believe you, lady."

"How can we prove our words?"

"You cannot. We already know the truth."

"We have no interest in bargaining with you, Sir Seneschal. If you serve the Pearl, who does the Pearl serve?"

"The child, I think." His brow furrowed. Her question had confused him, yet to Elric it had seemed so simple. His admiration for the dreamthief's skill increased.

"You see, we can help you in this," said Oone. "The child's spirit is imprisoned. And while it is imprisoned, so are you held captive."

The old man offered the bags of gold again. "Take this and leave us."

"I do not think we shall," said Oone firmly, and she led her horse forward, past the old man. "Come, Elric."

The albino hesitated. "We should question him more, Oone, surely?"

"He could not answer more."

The seneschal ran at her, swinging the heavy bags, the salver falling to the floor with a clang. "She is not! It will hurt! This is not to be. Pain will come! Pain!"

Elric felt sympathy for the old man. "Oone. We should listen to him."

She would not pause. "Come. You must."

He had learned to trust her judgement. He, too, pushed past the old man, who beat at his body with the bags of gold and wailed, the tears pouring down his cheeks and into his beard. It took a different courage to perform that particular action.

There was another great curving doorway ahead of them, all elaborate lattice-work and mosaic, bordered by bands of jade, blue enamel and silver. Two large doors of dark wood, hinges and studs of brass, blocked their way.

Oone did not knock. She reached gently towards the doors and placed her fingertips against them. Gradually, just as with the other gate, the doors began to part. They heard a faint noise from within, almost a whimper. The doors opened wider and wider until they were completely back on their hinges.

For a moment Elric was overwhelmed by what he saw.

A grey-gold glow filled the great chamber which had been revealed to them. The glow came from a column about the height of a tall man which was topped by a globe. At the centre of the globe shone a pearl of enormous size, almost as big as Elric's fist. Short flights of steps led up to the column from all sides, and around these steps were what at first appeared to be ranks of statues. Then Elric realised that they were men, women and children, dressed in all manner of costumes, though most of them in the styles favoured in Quarzhasaat and by the desert clans.

The old man came stumbling behind them. "Do not hurt this!"

"We defend ourselves, Sir Seneschal," Oone told him without turning to look at him. "That is all you need to know from us."

Slowly, still leading the silver horses, still with their silver swords in their hands, the light from the pearl touching their silver armour and their helmets and making these, too, glow with soft radiance, they made their way into the chamber.

'This is not to destroy. This is not to defeat. This is not to despoil."

Elric shivered when he heard the voice. He looked over towards the distant walls of the room and there was the Pearl Warrior, his armour all cracked and slimed with blood, his face a terrible bruise, the eyes seeming alternately to fade and take fire. And sometimes they were Alnac's eyes.

The warrior's next words were almost pathetic. "I cannot fight you. No more."

"We are not here to hurt," said Gone again. "We are here to free you."

There was a movement amongst the still figures. A blue-gowned veiled woman appeared. Queen Sough's own eyes had a suggestion of tears. "With these you come?" She indicated the swords, the horses, the armour. "But our enemies are not here."

"They will be here soon," said Oone. "Soon, I think, my lady."

Still baffled, Elric looked behind him, as if he would see their enemies. He made a movement towards the Pearl at the Heart of the World, merely to admire a marvel. At once all the figures came to life, blocking his path.

"You will steal!" The old man sounded even more wretched than before, even more impotent.

"No," said Oone. "It is not our purpose. You must understand that." She spoke urgently. "Raik Na Seem sent us to find her."

"She is safe. Tell him she is safe."

"She is not safe. Soon she will dissolve." Oone turned her gaze on the whispering throng. "She is separated, as we are separated. The Pearl is the cause."

"This is a trick," said Queen Sough.

"A trick," echoed the wounded Pearl Warrior, and there was a faint chuckle from his spoiled throat.

"A trick," said the seneschal, and held out the bags of gold.

"We come to steal nothing. We come to defend. Look!" Oone made a circular movement with her sword to show them what they had evidently not yet seen.

Emerging through the walls of the chamber, their hands filled with every imaginable weapon, came the hooded, tattooed soldiers of Quarzhasaat. The Sorcerer Adventurers.

"We cannot fight them," said Elric quietly to his friend. "There are too many of them." And he prepared himself for death.

2 The Destruction in the Fortress

Then Oone had mounted her silver horse and raised her silver sword. She called out: "Elric, do as I do!" and urged the stallion into a canter so that its hooves rattled like thunder in the chamber.

Prepared to die with courage, even at the moment of apparent triumph, Elric climbed into his saddle, took a spear in the hand that held the reins and with his sword already swinging charged against the invaders.

Only as they crowded around him, axes, maces, spears and swords lifted to attack, did Elric understand that Oone's action had not been one of mere desperation. These half-shades moved sluggishly, their eyes were misted, they stumbled and their blows were feeble.

The slaughter now became sickening to him. Following her example, he hacked and stabbed from side to side, almost mechanically. Heads came away from bodies like rotten fruit; limbs were sliced as easily as leaves from a stick; torsos collapsed under the thrust of a spear or sword. Their viscous blood, already the blood of the dead, clung to weapons and armour and their cries of pain were pathetic to Elric's ears. If he had not sworn to follow Oone, he would have ridden back and let her continue the work alone. There was little danger to them as the veiled men continued to pour through the walls and be met by sharp steel and cunning intelligence.

Behind them, around the column of the Pearl, the courtiers watched. These clearly did not know what a mediocre threat the two silver-armoured warriors confronted.

At last it was done. Decapitated, limbless bodies were piled all around the hall. Elric and Oone rode out of that slaughter and they were grim, unhappy, nauseated by their own actions.

"It is done," said Oone. "The Sorcerer Adventurers are slain."

"You truly are heroes!" Queen Sough came down the steps towards them, her eyes bright with admiration, her arms outstretched.

"We are who we are," said Oone. "We are mortal fighters and we have destroyed the threat to the Fortress of the Pearl." Her words had taken on a ritualistic tone and Elric, trusting her, was content to listen.

"You are the children of Chamog Borm, Brother and Sister of the Bone Moon, Children of Water and Cool Breezes, Parents of the Trees..." The seneschal had dropped his bags of gold and was shaken by his weeping. He wept with relief and with joy and Elric saw how much he resembled Raik Na Seem.

Oone, down from her horse again, was embraced by Queen Sough. Meanwhile, a shuffling and cackling announced the approach of the Pearl Warrior.

"This is no more for me," he said. Alnac's dead eyes had nothing but resignation in them. "This is for dissolution..." And he fell forward onto the marble floor, his armour all broken, his limbs sprawling, and there was no longer any flesh on him, only bone, so that what was left of the Pearl Warrior resembled little more than the inedible remains of a crab, the supper of some sea-giant.

Queen Sough came towards Elric, her arms outstretched, and she seemed much smaller than when he had first encountered her. Her head hardly reached to his lowered chin. Her embrace was warm and he knew she, too, was weeping. Then her veil fell away from her face and he saw that she had lost years, that she was little more than a girl.

Behind Queen Sough the Lady Oone was smiling at him as astonished understanding filled him. Gently he touched the girl's face, the familiar folds of her hair, and he drew in a sudden breath.

She was Varadia. She was the Holy Girl of the Bauradim. She was the child whose spirit they had promised to free.

Oone joined him, placing a protective hand upon Varadia's shoulder. "You know now that we are truly your friends."

Varadia nodded, looking about her at the courtiers, who had assumed their earlier frozen stances. "The Pearl Warrior was the best there was," she said. "I could summon none better. Chamog Borm failed me. The Sorcerer Adventurers were too strong for him. Now I can release him from his exile."

"We combined his strength with our own," said Gone. "Your strength and our strength. That is how we succeeded."

"We three are not shadows," said Varadia, smiling, as if at a revelation. "That is how we succeeded."

Oone nodded agreement. "That is how we succeeded, Holy Girl. Now we must consider how to bring you back to the Bronze Tent, to your people. You carry all their pride and history with you."

"I knew that. I had to protect it. I thought I had failed."

"You have not failed," said Oone.

"The Sorcerer Adventurers will not attack again?"

"Never," said Oone. "Not here, nor anywhere. Elric and I will make sure of it."

And then Elric realised in admiration that it had been Oone, in the end, who had summoned the Sorcerer Adventurers, summoned those shades for the last time; summoned them so that she might demonstrate their defeat.

Oone looked at him and warned him with her eyes not to say too much. But now he realised that all that they had fought, save perhaps a little of the Pearl Warrior and the Sorcerer Adventurers, had been a child's dreams. The hero of legend, Chamog Borm, could not save her because she knew he was not real. Similarly, the Pearl Warrior, chiefly her own invention, could not save her. But he and Oone were real. As real as the child herself! In her deep dream, in which she had disguised herself as a queen, seeking power but failing to find it, just as she had described, she had known the truth. Unable to escape from the dream, she had yet recognised the difference between her own invention and that which she had not invented-herself, Oone and Elric. But Oone had had to show that she could defeat what remained of the original threat, and in demonstrating the defeat, she freed the child.

And yet they were still within the dream, all three of them. The great Pearl pulsed as powerfully as before, the Fortress with all its mazes and intertwined passages and chambers was still their prison.

"You understood," Elric said to Oone. "You knew what they spoke of. The language was a child's language-a language seeking power and failing. A child's understanding of power."

But again Oone, with a glance, cautioned him to silence. "Varadia knows now that power is never discovered in retreat. All one can hope to do by retreating is to let one power destroy another or hide as one hides from a storm one cannot control, until the force has passed. One cannot gain anything, save one's own self. And ultimately one must always confront the evil that would destroy one." It was almost as if she herself were in a trance and Elric guessed that she repeated lessons learned in pursuit of her craft.

"You did not come to steal the Pearl but to save me from its prison," said Varadia as Oone took her young hands and held them tightly. "My father sent you to help me?"

"He asked our help and we gave it willingly," said Elric. At last he sheathed the silver sword. He felt slightly foolish in the armour of a fairy-tale hero.

Oone recognised his discomfort, "We shall give all this back to Chamog Borm, my lord. Is he permitted to return to the Fortress, Lady Varadia?"

The child grinned. "Of course!" She clapped her hands and through the doorway to the Court of the Pearl, walking proudly, still in the clothes of his banishment, came Chamog Borm, to kneel at the feet of his mistress.

"My Queen," he said. There was strong emotion in his wonderful voice.

"I return to you your armour and your weapons, your twin horses, Tadia and Taron, and all your honour, Chamog Borm." Varadia spoke with warm pride.

Soon Elric and Oone had discarded the armour and again wore only their ordinary clothes. Chamog Borm was in his silver-and-gold-chased breastplate and greaves, his helmet of gleaming silver, his swords and his spears in their sheaths at hip and on horse. His other armour he bound to the back of Tadia. At last he was ready. Again he kneeled before his Queen. "My lady. What task wouldst thou have me accomplish for thee?"

Varadia said deliberately: "You are free to travel where you will, great Chamog Borm. But know only this-you must continue to fight evil wherever you find it and you must never again allow the Sorcerer Adventurers to attack the Fortress of the Pearl."

"I swear."

With a bow to Oone and Elric, the legendary hero rode slowly from the Court, his head high with pride and noble purpose.

Varadia was content. "I have made him again what he was before I called him. I now know that legends in themselves have no power. The power comes from the uses that the living make of the legend. The legends merely represent an ideal."

"You are a wise child," said Oone admiringly.

"Should I not be, madam? I am the Holy Girl of the Bauradim." Varadia spoke with considerable irony and good humour. "Am I not the Oracle of the Bronze Tent?" She lowered her eyes, perhaps in sudden melancholy. "I shall be a child only a little longer. I think I shall miss my palace and all its kingdoms..."

"Something is always lost here." Oone placed a comforting hand on the child's shoulder. "But much is gained also."

Varadia looked back at the Pearl. Following her gaze, Elric saw that the entire Court had now vanished, just as the crowds had vanished on the great staircase when they had been attacked by the Pearl Warrior just before they first met Lady Sough. He now realised that in that guise she herself had guided them to her own rescue, as best she could. She had reached out to them. She had shown them the way in which they could, with their wits and courage, accomplish her salvation.

Varadia was ascending the steps, her hands outstretched towards the Pearl. 'This is the cause of all our misfortune," she said. "What can we do with it?"

"Destroy it, perhaps," said Elric.

But Oone shook her head. "While it remains an undiscovered treasure thieves will constantly seek it. This is the cause of Varadia's imprisonment in the Dream Realm. This is what brought the Sorcerer Adventurers to her. It is why they drugged and attempted to abduct her. All the evil comes not from the Pearl itself but what evil men have made of it."

"What shall you do?" asked Elric. "Trade it in the Dream Market when you next go?"

"Perhaps that is what I should do. But it would not be the means of ensuring Varadia's safety in the future. Do you understand?"

"While the Pearl is a legend, there will always be those who will pursue the legend?"

"Exactly, Prince Elric. So we shall not destroy it, I think. Not here."

Elric did not care. So absorbed had he become in the dream itself, the revealing of the levels of reality existing in the Dream Realm, that he had forgotten his original quest, the threat to his life and that of Anigh in Quarzhasaat.

It was for Oone to remind him. "Remember, there are those in Quarzhasaat who are not only your enemies, Elric of Melniboné. They are the enemies of this girl. The enemies of the Bauradim. You have still a further task to accomplish, even when we return to the Bronze Tent."

"Then you must advise me, Lady Oone," said Elric simply, "for I am a novice here."

"I cannot advise you with any great clarity." She turned her eyes away from him, almost in modesty, perhaps in pain. "But I can make a decision here. We must claim the Pearl."

"As I understand it, the Pearl did not exist before the lords of Quarzhasaat conceived of it, before someone discovered the legend, before the Sorcerer Adventurers came."

"But it exists now," said Oone. "Lady Varadia, would you give the Pearl to me?"

"Willingly," said the Holy Girl, and she ran up the remaining steps and took the globe from the plinth and threw it to the ground so that shards of milky glass shattered everywhere, mingling with the bones and the armour of the Pearl Warrior, and she took the Pearl in one hand, as an ordinary child might grasp a lost ball. And she tossed it from palm to palm in delight, fearing it no longer. "It is very beautiful. No wonder they sought it."

"They made it, then they used it to trap you." Oone reached up and caught it as Varadia threw it to her. "What a shame those who could conceive of such beauty would go to such evil lengths to own it..." She frowned, looking about her in sudden concern.

The light was fading in the Court of the Pearl.

From all around them came an appalling noise, an anguished groaning; a great creaking and keening, a tortured screaming, as if all the tormented souls in all the multiverse had suddenly given voice.

It pierced their brains. They covered their ears. They stared in terror, watching as the floor of the Court erupted and undulated, as the ivory walls with all their wonderful mosaics and carvings began to rot before their eyes, crumbling and falling, like the fabric in a tomb suddenly exposed to daylight.

And then, over all the other noises, they heard the laughter.

It was sweet laughter. It was the unaffected laughter of a child.

It was the laughter of a freed spirit. It was Varadia's.

"It is dissolving at last. It is all dissolving! Oh, my friends, I am a slave no longer!"

Through all the falling filthy stuff, through all the decay and dissolution which tumbled upon them, through the destroyed carcass of the Fortress of the Pearl, Oone came towards them. She was hasty but she was careful. She held one of Varadia's hands.

"Not yet! Too soon! We could all dissolve in this!"

She made Elric take the child's other hand and they led her through the crashing, shrieking darkness, out of the chamber, down through the swaying corridors, out past the courtyards where fountains now gushed detritus and where the very walls were constructed of putrefying flesh which began to rot to nothing even as they went by. Then Oone made them run, until the final gateway lay ahead of them.

They reached the causeway and the marble road. There was a bridge ahead of them. Oone almost dragged the other two towards it, running as fast as she could possibly run, with the Fortress of the Pearl tumbling into nothing, roaring like a dying beast as it did so.

The bridge seemed infinite. Elric could not see to the further side. But at length Oone stopped running and allowed them to walk, for they had reached a gateway.

The gateway was carved of red sandstone. It was decorated with geometrical tiles and pictures of gazelles, leopards and wild camels. It had an almost prosaic appearance after so many monumental doorways, yet Elric felt some trepidation hi passing through it.

"I am afraid, Oone," he said.

"You fear mortality, I think." She pressed on. "You have great courage, Prince Elric. Make use of it now, I beg you."

He quelled his terrors. His grip on the child's hand was firm and reassuring.

"We go home, do we not?" said the Holy Girl. "What is it you do not want to find there, Prince Elric?"

He smiled down at her, grateful for her question. "Nothing much, Lady Varadia. Perhaps nothing more than myself."

They stepped together into the gateway.

3 Celebrations at the Silver Flower Oasis

Waking beside the still sleeping child, Elric was surprised to feel so refreshed. The dreamwand, which had helped them attain substance in the Dream Realm, was still hooked over their clasped hands and, looking across the child, he saw Oone beginning to stir.

"You have failed, then?"

It was Raik Na Seem's voice, full of resigned sadness.

"What?" Oone glanced at Varadia. Even as they watched, her skin began to shine with ordinary health and her eyes opened to see her anxious father staring down at her. She smiled. It was the easy, unaffected smile with which Oone and Elric were already familiar.

The First Elder of the Bauradim Clan began to weep. He wept as the seneschal of the Court of the Pearl had wept; he wept in relief and he wept in joy. He took up his daughter in his arms and he could not speak for the gladness in his heart. All he could do was reach one hand out towards his friends, the man and woman who had entered the Dream Realm to free his child's spirit, where it had fled to escape the evil of Lord Gho's hirelings.

They touched his hand and they left the Bronze Tent. They walked together into the desert and then they stood face to face, staring into one another's eyes.

"We have a dream in common now," said Elric. His voice was gentle, full of affection. "I think the memory will be a good one, Lady Gone."

She reached to hold his face hi her hands. "You are wise, Prince Elric, and you are courageous, but there is a certain kind of ordinary experience you lack. I hope that you are successful in finding it."

"That is why I wander this world, my lady, and leave my cousin Yyrkoon as Regent on the Ruby Throne. I am aware of more than one deficiency."

"I am glad we dreamed together," she said.

"You lost your true love, I think," Elric told her. "I am glad if I helped you ease the pain of that parting."

She was baffled for a moment, then her brow cleared. "You speak of Alnac Kreb? I was fond of him, my lord, but he was more a brother to me than a lover."

Elric became embarrassed. "Forgive my presumption, Lady Gone."

She looked up into the sky. The Blood Moon had not yet waned. It cast its red rays onto the sand, onto the gleaming bronze of the tent where Raik Na Seem welcomed his daughter back to him. "I do not love easily in the way you mean." Her voice was significant. She sighed. "Do you still plan to return to Melniboné and your betrothed?"

"I must," he said. "I love her. And my duty lies in Imrryr."

"Sweet duty!" Her tone was sarcastic and she took a step or two away from him, her head bowed, her hand on her belt. She kicked at the dust the colour of old blood.

Elric had disciplined himself against his heart's pain for too long. He could only stand and wait until she walked back to him. And now she was smiling. "Well, Prince Elric, would you join the dreamthieves and make this your living for a while?"

Elric shook his head. "It is a calling which requires too much of me, my lady. Yet I am grateful for what this adventure has taught me, both about myself and about the world of dreams. I still understand only a little of it I am still not wholly sure where we travelled or what we encountered. I do not know how much in the Dream Realm was the Lady Varadia's creation and how much was yours. It was as if I witnessed a battle of inventors! And did I contribute? I do not know."

"Oh, without you, believe me, Prince Elric, I think I would have failed. You have seen so much of other worlds! And you have read more. It does not do to analyse too closely the creatures and places one encounters in the Dream Realm, but be assured that you made your contribution. More, perhaps, than you'll ever know."

"Can reality ever be made from the fabric of those dreams?" he wondered.

"There was an adventurer of the Young Kingdoms called Earl Aubec," she said. "He knew how potent a creator of reality the human mind can be. Some say he and his kind helped make the world of the Young Kingdoms."

Elric nodded. "I've heard that legend. But I think it is as substantial as the story of Chamog Borm, my lady."

"You must think what you wish." She turned away from him to look at the Bronze Tent. The old man and his daughter were emerging. From somewhere within, the tent drums began to beat. There came a wonderful chanting, a dozen melodies linked together, interwoven. Slowly all the people who had remained at the Bronze Tent keeping vigil over the body of the Holy Girl began to gather around Raik Na Seem and Varadia. Their songs were songs of intense joy. Their voices filled the desert with the most gorgeous life and made even the distant mountains echo.

Oone linked her arm in Elric's, a gesture of comradeship, of reconciliation. "Come," she said, "let us join the celebrations."

They had only walked a few more paces before they were lifted on the shoulders of the crowd and soon they were borne, laughing and infected by the general joyousness, over the desert towards the Silver Flower Oasis.

The celebrations began at once, as if the Bauradim and all the other desert clans had been preparing for this moment. Every kind of delicious food was prepared until the air was rich with an enormous variety of mouth-watering smells and it seemed all the great spice warehouses of the world had been made to release their contents. Cooking fires blazed everywhere, as did great brands and lamps and candles, and from out of the Kashbeh Moulor Ka Riiz, overlooking the great oasis, rode the Aloum'rit guardians in all the glory of their ancient armour, their red-gold helmets and breastplates, their weapons of bronze and brass and steel. They had huge forked beards and massive turbans wound around the spikes of their helms. They wore surcoats of elaborate brocade and cloth-of-silver and their high boots were embroidered with designs almost as intricate as those on their shirts. They were proud, good-humoured men who rode at the sides of their wives, who were also armoured and carried bows and slender spears. All had soon mingled with the enormous crowd who had erected a large platform and placed a carved chair upon it and sat the smiling Varadia in the chair so that all could see the Holy Girl of the Bauradim restored to her clan, bringing back their history, their pride and their future.

Raik Na Seem still wept. Whenever he saw Oone and Elric he grasped them and pulled them to him, thanking them, telling them, as best he could, what it meant to him to have such friends, such saviours, such heroes.

"Your names will be remembered by the Bauradim for all time. And whatever favour you shall ask of us, so long as it be honourable, as we know it shall, then we shall grant it to you. If you are in danger ten thousand miles away you will send a message to the Bauradim and they will come to your aid. Meanwhile you must know that you have freed the spirit of a good-hearted child from dark captivity."

"And that is our reward," said Oone, smiling.

"Our wealth is yours," said the old man.

"We have no need of wealth," Oone told him. "We have discovered better resources, I think."

Elric agreed with her. "Besides, there is a man in Quarzhasaat who has promised me half an empire if I but do him a small service."

Oone understood Elric's reference and laughed.

Raik Na Seem was a little disturbed. "You go to Quarzhasaat? You still have business there?"

"Aye," said Elric. "There is a boy who is anxiously awaiting my return."

"But you have time to celebrate with us, to talk with us, to feast with myself and Varadia? You have scarcely exchanged a word with the child!"

"I think we know her pretty well," said Elric. "Enough to think highly of her. She is indeed the greatest treasure of the Bauradim, my lord."

"You were able to hold conversations in that gloomy realm where she was held prisoner?"

Elric thought to enlighten the First Elder, but Oone was quick to interrupt, so familiar was she with such questions.

"Some, my lord. We were impressed by her intelligence and her courage."

Raik Na Seem's brow furrowed as another thought occurred to him. "My son," he said to Elric, "were you able to sustain yourself in that realm without pain?"

"Without pain, aye," said Elric. Then he realised what had been said. For the first time he understood what good had come about from his adventure. "Aye, sir. There are benefits to assisting a dreamthief. Great benefits which I had not until now appreciated!"

With relish now Elric joined in the feasting, treasuring these hours with Oone, the Bauradim and all the other nomad clans. Again he felt as if he had come home, so welcoming were the people, and he wished that he could spend his life here, learning their ways, their philosophies and enjoying their pastimes.

Later, as he lay beneath a great date palm, rolling one of the silver flowers between his fingers, he looked up at Oone, who sat beside him, and said: "Of all the temptations I faced in the Dream Realm, this temptation is perhaps the greatest, Oone. This is simple reality and I am reluctant to leave it. And you."

"We have no further destiny together, I think." She sighed. "Not in this life, at any rate, or this world, perhaps. You shall be first a legend, then there will be none left to remember you."

"My friends will all die? I shall be alone?"

"I believe so. While you serve Chaos."

"I serve myself and my people."

"If you would believe that, Elric, you must do more to achieve it. You have created a little reality and perhaps will create a little more. But Chaos cannot be a friend without it betraying you. In the end, we have only ourselves to look to. No cause, no force, no challenge, will ever replace that truth..."

"It is to be myself that I travel as I do, Lady Gone," he reminded her. He looked out over the desert, over the tranquil waters of the oasis. He breathed in the cool, scented desert air.

"And you will leave here soon?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," he said. "I must. But I am curious to know what reality I have created."

"Oh, I think a dream or two has come true," she said cryptically, kissing nun on the cheek. "And another will come true soon enough."

He did not pursue the question, for she had taken the great Pearl from the pouch at her belt and held it out to him.

"It exists! It was not the chimera we believed it to be! You still have it!"

"It is for you," she said. "Use it how you will. But that is what brought you here to the Silver Flower Oasis. It is what brought you to me. I think I will not trade it at the Dream Market. I would like you to have it. I think it might be yours by right, Elric. Be that as it may, the Holy Girl gave it to me and now I give it to you. It is what Alnac Kreb died because of, what all those assassins died to possess..."

"I thought you said that the Pearl did not exist before the Sorcerer Assassins sought to find it."

"That is true. But it exists now. Here it is. The Pearl at the Heart of the World. The great Pearl of legend. Have you no use for it?"

"You must explain to me..." he began, but she cut him short.

"Ask me not how dreams take substance, Prince Elric. That is a question that concerns philosophers in all ages and all places. I ask you again-have you no use for it?"

He hesitated, then reached out to take the lovely thing. He held it in his two palms, rolling it back and forth. He wondered at its richness, its pale beauty. "Aye," he said. "I think I have a use for it."

When he had placed the jewel in his own pouch, Oone said very softly: "I think it is an evil thing, that Pearl."

He agreed with her. "I think so, too. But sometimes evil can be used to counter evil."

"I cannot accept that argument" She seemed troubled.

"I know," he said, "you have already said as much." And then it was his turn to reach towards her and kiss her tenderly upon the lips. "Fate is cruel, Oone. It would be better if it provided us with one unaltering path. Instead it forces us to make choices and then never to know if those choices were for the best."

"We are mortals," she said with a shrug. "That is our particular doom."

She stroked his forehead. "You have a troubled mind, my lord. I think I will steal a few of the smaller dreams which make you uneasy."

"Can you steal pain, Oone, and turn it into something to sell in your market?"

"Oh, frequently," she said.

She took his head in her lap and began to massage his temples. Her look was tender.

He said sleepily: "I cannot betray Cymoril. I cannot..."

"I ask no more of you but that you sleep," she said. "One day you will have much to regret and you will know real remorse. Until then, I can take away a little of what is unimportant."

"Unimportant?" His voice was slurred as she gradually stroked him into slumber.

"To you, I think, my lord. Though not to me..."

And the dreamthief began to sing. She sang a lullaby. She sang of a sickly child and a grieving father. She sang of happiness found in simple things.

And Elric slept. And as he slept the dreamthief performed her easy magic and took away just a few of the half-forgotten memories which had spoiled his nights in the past and might spoil those yet to come.

And when Elric awoke that next morning, it was with a light heart and an easy conscience, only the faintest memories of his adventures in the Dream Realm, a continuing affection for Oone and a determination to reach Quarzhasaat as soon as possible and take to Lord Gho what Lord Gho most desired in all the world.

His farewells to the people of the Bauradim were sincere and his sadness in parting was reciprocated. They begged him to return, to join them on their travels, to hunt with them as Rackhir, his Mend, had once hunted.

"I will try to return to you one day," he said. "But first I have more than one oath to fulfill."

A nervous boy brought him his great black battle-blade. As he buckled on Stormbringer the sword seemed to moan with considerable satisfaction at being reunited with him.

It was Varadia, clasping his hands and kissing them, who gave him the blessing of her clan. It was Raik Na Seem who told him that he was now Varadia's brother, his own son, and then Oone the Dreamthief stepped forward. She had decided to remain a while as a guest of the Bauradim.

"Farewell, Elric. I hope that we may meet again. In better circumstances."

He was amused. "Better circumstances?"

"For me, at any rate." She grinned, contemptuously tapping the pommel of his runesword. "And I wish you well with your attempts to become that thing's master."

"I am its master now, I think," he said.

She shrugged. "I'll ride with you a little way up the Red Road."

"I would welcome your company, my lady."

Side by side, as they had done in the Dream Realm, Elric and Gone rode together. And, although he did not remember how he had felt before, Elric knew a certain resonance of recognition, as if he had found his soul's satisfaction, so that it was with sadness that eventually he parted from her to go on alone towards Quarzhasaat.

"Farewell, good friend. I'll remember how you defeated the Pearl Warrior in the Fortress of the Pearl. That is one memory I do not think will ever fade."

"I am flattered." There was a touch of melancholy irony in her voice. "Farewell, Prince Elric. I trust you will find all that you need and that you will know peace when you return to Melniboné."

"It is my firm intention, madam." A wave to her, not wishing to prolong the sadness, and he spurred his horse forward.

With eyes which refused to weep she watched him ride away up the long Red Road to Quarzhasaat.

4 Certain Matters Resolved in Quarzhasaat

When Elric of Melniboné rode into Quarzhasaat he was limp in his saddle, hardly controlling his horse at all, and the people who gathered around him asked him if he was ill, while some feared that he brought plague to their beautiful city and would have driven him out at once.

The albino lifted his strange head long enough to gasp out the name of his patron, Lord Gho Fhaazi, and to say that all he lacked was a certain elixir which that nobleman possessed. "I must have that elixir," he told them, "or I will be dead before I have accomplished my task..."

The old towers and minarets of Quarzhasaat were lovely in the fading rays of a huge red sun and there was a certain peace about the city which comes when the day's business is done and before it begins to take its pleasures.

A rich water-merchant, anxious to find favour with one who might soon be elected to the Council, personally led Elric's horse through the elegant alleys and impressive avenues until they came to the great palace, all golds and faded greens, of Lord Gho Fhaazi.

The merchant was rewarded by a steward's promise to mention his name to the nobleman, and Elric, now mumbling and whimpering to himself, sometimes groaning a little and licking anxious lips, passed through into the lovely gardens surrounding the main palace.

Lord Gho himself came to meet the albino. He was laughing heartily at the sight of Elric hi such poor condition.

"Greetings, greetings, Elric of Nadsokor! Greetings, white-faced clown-thief. Oh, you are not so proud today! You were profligate with the elixir I gave you and now you return to beg for more-in worse condition than when you first arrived here!"

"The boy..." whispered Elric, as servants helped him from the horse. His arms hung limply as they carried him on their shoulders. "Does he live?"

"In better health than yourself, sir!" Lord Gho Fhaazi's pale green eyes were full of exquisite malice. "And in perfect safety. You were most adamant about that before you set off. And I am a man of my word." The politician stroked the ringlets of his oily beard and chuckled to himself. "And you, Sir Thief, do you also keep your word?"

"To the letter," muttered the albino. His red eyes rolled back hi his head and it appeared for a second that he died. Then he turned a painful gaze in Lord Gho's direction. "Will you give me the antidote and all that you've promised? The water? The wealth? The boy?"

"No doubt, no doubt. But you have a poor bargaining position at present, thief. What of the Pearl? Did you find it? Or are you here to report failure?"

"I found it. And I have it hidden," said Elric. "The elixir has..."

"Yes, yes. I know what the elixir does. You must have a fundamentally strong constitution even to be able to speak by now." The Quarzhasaati supervised the men and women who carried Elric into the cool ulterior of the palace and placed him on great tasselled cushions of scarlet and blue velvet and gave him water to drink and food to eat.

"The craving grows worse, does it not?" Lord Gho took considerable pleasure at Elric's discomfort. "The elixir must feed off you, just as you appear to feed off it. You are cunning, eh, Sir Thief? You have hidden the Pearl, you say? Do you not trust me? I am a nobleman of the greatest city in the world!"

Elric, all dusty from his long ride, sprawled on the cushions and wiped his hands slowly on a cloth. "The antidote, my lord..."

"You know I shall not let you have the antidote until the Pearl is in my hands..." Lord Gho was expansively condescending as he looked down on his victim. "To tell you the truth, thief, I had not expected you to be as coherent as you are! Would you care for another draft of my elixir?" "Bring it if you will."

Elric appeared to be careless, but Lord Gho understood how desperate he must actually be. He turned to give instructions to his slaves.

Then Elric said: "But bring the boy. Bring the boy so that I may see he has come to no harm and hear from his own lips what has taken place while I have been gone..."

It's a small request. Very well." Lord Gho Fhaazi signed to a slave. "Bring the boy Anigh."

The nobleman crossed to a great chair, placed on a small dais between brocaded awnings, and slumped himself down in it while they waited. "I had scarcely expected you to survive the journey, Sir Thief, let alone succeed in finding the Pearl. Our Sorcerer Adventurers are the bravest, most skillful of warriors, trained in all the arts of sorcery and incantation. Yet those I sent, and all their brothers, failed! Oh, this is a happy day for me. I will revive you, I promise, so that you can tell me all that happened. What of the Bauradim? Did you kill many? You will recount everything so that when I present the Pearl to obtain my position I can give the story that goes with it.

This will add to its value, you see. When I am elected, I shall be asked to retail such a story many times, I am sure. The Council will be so envious..." He licked his painted red lips. "Did you have to kill that child? What was the first thing you witnessed, for instance, when you reached the Silver Flower Oasis?"

"A funeral, as I recall..." Elric showed a little more animation. "Aye, that was it."

Two guards brought in a wriggling boy who did not seem greatly overjoyed when he saw Elric stretched upon the cushions. "Oh, master! You are more wretched than before." He stopped his struggling and tried to hide his disappointment. There were no marks of torture on him. He seemed not to have been harmed.

"Are you well, Anigh?"

"Aye. My chief problem has been in passing the time. Occasionally his lordship there has come to tell me what he will do if you fail to bring back the Pearl, but I have read such things on the walls of the lunatic stockades and they are nothing new to me."

Lord Oho scowled. "Be careful, boy..."

"You must have returned with the Pearl," said Anigh, glancing around him. "That is so, eh, my lord? Or you would not be here?" He was a little more relieved. "Are we to go now?"

"Not yet!" growled Lord Oho.

"The antidote," said Elric. "Do you have it here?"

"You are too impatient, Sir Thief. And your cunning is matched by mine." Lord Gho giggled and raised an admonishing finger. "I must have some proof that you possess the Pearl. Would you give me your sword as surety, perhaps? You are, after all, too weak to wield it. It is of no further use to you." He reached a greedy hand towards the albino's hip and Elric made a feeble movement away from him.

"Come, come, Sir Thief. Be not afraid of me. We are partners in this. Where is the Pearl? The Council congregates this evening at the Great Meeting House. If I can bring them the Pearl then... Oh, I shall be powerful by tonight!"

"The worm is so proud to be king of the dunghill," said Elric.

"Do not anger him, master!" cried Anigh in alarm. "You have still to learn where he hides the antidote!"

"I must have the Pearl!" Lord Gho grew petulant in his impatience. "Where have you hidden it, thief? In the desert? Somewhere in the city?"

Slowly Elric raised his body on the cushions. "The Pearl was a dream," he said. "It took your killers to make it real."

Lord Gho Fhaazi frowned, scratching at his whitened forehead and showing further nervousness. He looked suspiciously at Elric. "If you would have more elixir, you had best not insult me, thief. Nor play any game. The boy could die in an instant, and you with him, and I would be in no worse a position."

"But you would better yourself, my lord, I think. With the price of a place on the Council, I think." Elric seemed to gather strength and now he was upright on the luxurious velvet, signing for the boy to come towards him. The guards looked questioningly at their master, but he shrugged. Anigh walked, his brow furrowed with curiosity, towards the albino. "You are greedy, my lord, I think. You would own the whole of your world. This pathetic monument to your race's ruined pride!"

Lord Gho glared at him. "Thief, if you would recover yourself, if you would take the antidote to make you free of the drug I gave you, you will be more polite to me..."

"Ah, yes," said Elric thoughtfully, reaching into his jerkin. He pulled out a leather pouch. "The elixir which was to make me your slave!" He smiled. He opened the pouch.

Onto his extended palm now rolled the jewel for which Gho Fhaazi had offered half his fortune, for which he had sent a hundred men to their deaths, for which he had been prepared to abduct and kill one child and imprison another.

The Quarzhasaati began to tremble. His painted eyes rounded. He gasped and bent forward, almost fainting.

"It is true," he said. "You have found the Pearl at the Heart of the World..."

"Merely a gift from a friend," said Elric. The Pearl still displayed on his hand, he rose to his feet and put a protective arm around the boy. "In obtaining it I found that my body lost its demand for the elixir and therefore has no need for your antidote, Lord Gho."

Lord Gho hardly heard him. His eyes were fixed on the great Pearl. "It is monstrous big... Even larger than I had heard... It is real. I can see it is real. The colour... Ah..." And he stretched towards it.

Elric drew his hand back. Lord Gho frowned and looked up at the albino with eyes that were hot with greed. "Did she die? Was it, as some said, in her body?"

Anigh shivered at Elric's side.

Full of loathing, Elric's voice was still soft. "No one died at my hand who was not already dead. As you are already dead, my lord. It was your funeral I witnessed at the Silver Flower Oasis. I am now the agent of the Bauradim prophecy. I am to avenge all the grief you brought to them and their Holy Girl."

"What? The others all sent their soldiers, too! The entire Council and half the candidates had sects of Sorcerer Adventurers seeking the Pearl. Every one. Most of those warriors failed or were killed. Or were executed for their failure. You killed no one, you said. Well, so there's no blood on your hands, eh. All's for the best. I'll give you what I promised, Sir Thief..."

Trembling with lust, Lord Gho extended his plump hand to take the Pearl.

Elric smiled and to Anigh's astonishment let the nobleman lift the Pearl from his palm.

Breathing heavily, Lord Gho caressed his prize. "Oh, it is lovely. Oh, it is so good..."

Elric spoke again, just as levelly as before. "And our reward, Lord Gho?"

"What?" He looked up absently. "Why yes, of course. Your lives. You no longer need the antidote, you say. Excellent. So you may go."

"I believe you also offered me a large fortune. All manner of wealth. Great stature amongst the lords of Quarzhasaat?"

Lord Gho dismissed this. "Nonsense. The antidote would have sufficed. You are not the type of person to enjoy such things. Breeding is required if they are to be used wisely and with appropriate discretion. No, no. I will let you and the boy go..."

"You will not keep your original bargain, my lord?"

"There was talk-but no bargain. The only bargain involved the boy's freedom and the antidote to the elixir. You were mistaken."

"You remember nothing of your promises...?"

"Promises? Certainly not." The ringletted beard and hair quivered.

"...and mine?"

"No, no. You are irritating me." His eyes were still upon the Pearl. He fondled it as another might fondle a beloved child. "Go, sir. While I am still pleased with you."

"I have many oaths to fulfill," said Elric, "and I do not break my word."

Lord Gho looked up, his expression hardening. "Very well. I am tired of this. By this evening I shall be a member of the Six and One Other. By threatening me, you threaten the Council. You are therefore enemies of Quarzhasaat. You are traitors to the Empire and must be disposed of accordingly! Guards!"

"Oh, you are a foolish fellow," said Elric. Then Anigh cried out, for unlike Lord Gho, he had not forgotten the power of the Black Sword.

"Do as he demands, Lord Gho!" shouted Anigh, fearing as much for himself as for the nobleman. "I beg you, great lord! Do what he says!"

"This is not how a member of the Council is addressed." Lord Gho's tone was that of a baffled, reasonable individual. "Guards-take them from my hall at once. Have them strangled or cut their throats-I care not..."

The guards knew nothing of the runesword. They saw only a slender man who might have been a leper and they saw a young, defenceless boy. They grinned, as if at a joke of their master's, and then drew their blades, advancing almost casually.

Elric pressed Anigh behind him. His hand went to Stormbringer's hilt. "You are unwise to do this," he told the guards. "I have no particular wish to kill you."

Behind the soldiers one of the servants opened the door and slipped out into the corridor. Elric watched her go. "Best copy her," he said. "She has some idea, I think, of what will happen if you threaten us further..."

The guards laughed openly now. "This is a madman," said one. "Lord Gho is well rid of him!"

They came at Elric in a rush and then the runesword was howling in the cool air of that luxurious chamber-howling like a hungry wolf freed from a cage and longing only to kill and to feed.

Elric felt the power surge through him as the blade took the first guard, splitting him from crown to breastbone. The other tried to change direction from attack to flight, stumbled forward and was impaled on the blade's tip, his eyes horrified as he felt his soul being drawn from him into the runesword.

Lord Gho cringed in his great chair, too frightened to move. In one hand he clutched the great Pearl. His other hand was held palm outward as if he hoped to ward off Elric's blow.

But the albino, strengthened by his borrowed energy, sheathed the black blade and took five quick strides across the hall to mount the dais and stare down into Lord Gho's face, which twisted in terror.

'Take the Pearl back. For my life..." whispered the Quarzhasaati. "For my life, thief..."

Elric accepted the offered jewel, but he did not move. He reached into the pouch at his belt and drew forth a flask of the elixir Lord Gho had given him. "Would you care for something to help you wash it down?"

Lord Gho trembled. Beneath the chalky substance on his skin his face had gone still paler. "I do not understand you, thief."

"I want you to eat the Pearl, my lord. If you can swallow it and live, well, it will be clear that the prophecy of your death was premature."

"Swallow it? It is too large. I could hardly get it into my mouth!" Lord Gho sniggered, hoping that the albino joked.

"No, my lord. I think you can. And I think you can swallow it. After all, how else would it have got into the body of a child?"

"It was-they said it was a-a dream..."

"Aye. Perhaps you can swallow a dream. Perhaps you can enter the Dream Realm and so escape your fate. You must try, my lord, or else my runesword drinks your soul. Which would you prefer?"

"Oh, Elric. Spare me. This is not fair. We made a bargain."

"Open your mouth, Lord Gho. Who knows? The Pearl might shrink or your throat expand like a snake's. A snake could easily swallow the Pearl, my lord. And you, surely, are superior to a snake?"

Anigh whispered from the window where he had been staring with studied gaze, unwilling to look upon a vengeance he regarded as just but distasteful. "The servant, Lord Elric. She has alarmed the city."

For a second a desperate hope came into Lord Gho's green eyes and then faded as Elric placed the flask on the arm of the great chair and drew the runesword part-way from its scabbard. "Your soul will help me fight those new soldiers, Lord Oho."

Slowly, weeping and whimpering, the great Lord of Quarzhasaat began to open his mouth.

"Here is the Pearl again, my lord. Put it in. Do your best, my lord. You have some chance of life this way."

Lord Gho's hand shook. But eventually he began to force the lovely jewel between his reddened lips. Elric took the stopper from the elixir and poured some of the liquid into the nobleman's distorted cheeks. "Now swallow, Lord Gho. Swallow the Pearl you would have slain a child to own. And then I will tell you who I am..."

A few moments later the doors crashed inward and Elric recognised the tattooed face of Manag Iss, leader of the Yellow Sect and kinsman to the Lady Iss. Manag Iss looked from Elric to the distorted features of Lord Gho. The nobleman had failed completely to swallow the Pearl.

Manag Iss shuddered. "Elric. I heard that you had returned. They said you were close to death. Clearly this was a trick to deceive Lord Gho."

"Aye," said Elric. "I had this boy to free."

Manag Iss gestured with his own drawn sword. "You found the Pearl?"

"I found it."

"My Lady Iss sent me to offer you anything you desired for it."

Elric smiled. "Tell her I shall be at the Council Meeting House in half an hour. I shall bring the Pearl with me."

"But the others will be there. She wishes to trade privately."

"Would it not be wise to auction so valuable a thing?" said Elric.

Manag Iss sheathed his sword and smiled a little. "You're a cunning one. I do not think they know how cunning you are. Nor who you are. I have yet to tell them that particular speculation."

"Oh, you may tell them what I have just told Lord Gho. That I am the hereditary Emperor of Melniboné," said Elric casually. "For that is the truth of the matter. My Empire has survived rather more successfully than yours, I think."

"That could incense them. I am willing to be your friend, Melnibonéan."

"Thanks, Manag Iss, but I need no more friends from Quarzhasaat. Please do as I say."

Manag Iss looked at the slaughtered guards, at the dead Lord Gho, who had turned a strange colour, at the nervous boy, and he saluted Elric.

"The Meeting House in half an hour, Emperor of Melniboné." He turned on his heel and left the chamber.

After issuing certain specific instructions to Anigh concerning travel and the products of Kwan, Elric went out into the courtyard. The sun had set and there were brands burning all over Quarzhasaat as if the city were expecting an attack.

Lord Gho's house was deserted of servants. Elric went to the stables and found his horse and his saddle. He dressed the Baraudi stallion, carefully placing a heavy bundle over the pommel, then he had mounted and was riding through the streets, seeking the Meeting House where Anigh had told him it would be.

The city was unnaturally silent. Clearly some order had been given to uphold a curfew, for there was not even a city guard on the streets.

Elric rode at an easy canter along the wide Avenue of Military Success, along the Boulevard of Ancient Accomplishment and half a dozen other grandiosely named thoroughfares until he saw the long low building ahead of him which, in its simplicity, could only be the seat of Quarzhasaati power.

The albino paused. At his side the black runesword crooned a little, almost demanding a further letting of blood.

"You must be patient," said Elric. "Could be there will be no need for battle."

He thought he saw shadows moving hi the trees and shrubberies around the Meeting House but he paid them no attention. He did not care what they plotted or who spied on him. He had a mission to fulfill.

At last he had reached the doors of the building and was not surprised to find them standing open. He dismounted, threw the bundle over his shoulder and walked heavily into a large, plain room, without decoration or ostentation, hi which were placed seven tall-backed chairs and a lime-washed oak table. Standing in a semi-circle at one end of the table were six robed figures wearing veils not unlike certain sects of the Sorcerer Adventurers. The seventh figure wore a tall, conical hat which completely covered the face. It was this figure who spoke. Elric was not unsurprised to hear a woman's tones.

"I am the Other," she said. "I believe you have brought us a treasure to add to the glory of Quarzhasaat."

"If you believe this treasure to add to your glory, then my journey has not been fruitless," said Elric. He dropped the bundle to the ground. "Did Manag Iss tell you all I asked him to tell you?"

One of the Councillors stirred and said, almost as an oath: "That you are the progeny of sunken Melniboné, aye!"

"Melniboné is not sunken. Nor does she cut herself off from the world's realities quite as much as do you." Elric was contemptuous. "You challenged our power long ago, and defeated yourselves by your own folly. Now through your greed you have brought me back to Quarzhasaat when I would as readily have passed through your city unnoticed."

"Do you accuse us!" A veiled woman was outraged. "You who have caused us so much trouble? You, who are of the blood of that degenerate unhuman race which couples with beasts for its pleasures and produces"-she pointed at Elric-"the like of you!"

Elric was unmoved. "Did Manag Iss tell you to be wary of me?" he asked quietly.

"He said you had the Pearl and that you had a sorcerous sword. But he also said you were alone." The Other cleared her throat. "He said you brought the Pearl at the Heart of the World."

"I have brought it and that which contains it," said Elric. He bent down and tugged the velvet free of his bundle to reveal the corpse of Lord Gho Fhaazi, his face still contorted, the great lump in his throat making it seem as if he had an enormously enlarged Adam's apple. "Here is the one who first commissioned me to find the Pearl."

"We heard you had murdered him," said the Other with disapproval. "But that would be a normal enough action for a Melnibonéan."

Elric did not rise to this. "The Pearl is in Lord Gho Fhaazi's gullet. Would you have me cut it out for you, my nobles?"

He saw at least one of them shudder and he smiled. "You commission assassins to kill, to torture, to kidnap and to perform all other forms of evil in your name, but you would not see a little spilled blood? I gave Lord Gho a choice. He took this one. He talked so much and ate and drank so copiously I thought he might well have succeeded in getting the Pearl into his stomach. But he gagged a little and I fear that was the end of him."

"You are a cruel rogue!" One of the men came forward to look at his would-be colleague. "Aye, that's Gho. His colour has improved, I'd say."

This jest did not meet with the leader's approval.

"We are to bid for a corpse, then?"

"Unless you wish to cut the Pearl free, aye."

"Manag Iss," said one of the veiled women, lifting her head. "Step out, will you, sir?"

The Sorcerer Adventurer emerged from a door at the back of the hall. He looked at Elric almost apologetically. His hand went to his knife.

"We would not have a Melnibonéan spill more Quarzhasaati blood," said the Other. "Manag Iss will cut the Pearl free."

The leader of the Yellow Sect drew a deep breath and then approached the corpse. Swiftly he did what he had been ordered to do. Blood poured down his arm as he held up the Pearl at the Heart of the World.

The Council was impressed. Several of the members gasped and they murmured amongst themselves. Elric believed they had suspected him of lying to them, since lies and intrigues were second nature to them.

"Hold it high, Manag Iss," said the albino. "It is this that you all desired so greedily that you were prepared to pay for it with what was left of your honour."

"Be careful, sir!" cried the Other. "We are patient with you now. Name your price and then begone."

Elric laughed. It was not pleasant laughter. It was Melnibonéan laughter. At that moment he was a pure denizen of the Dragon Isle. "Very well," he said, "I desire this city. Not its citizens, not any of its treasure, nor its animals, not even its water. I would let you leave with everything you can carry. I desire only the city itself. It is, you see, mine by hereditary right."

"What? This is nonsense. How could we agree?" *

"You must agree," said Elric, "or you must fight me."

"Fight you? There is only one of you."

"There is no question of it," said another Councillor. "He is mad. He must be put down like a crazed dog. Manag Iss, call in your brothers and their men."

"I do not believe it is advisable, cousin," said Manag Iss, clearly addressing Lady Iss. "I think it would be wise to parley."

"What? Have you turned coward? Has this rogue an army with : hun?"

Manag Iss rubbed at his nose. "My lady..."

"Call in your brothers, Manag Iss!"

The captain of the Yellow Sect rubbed at one silk-clad arm and he frowned. "Prince Elric, I understand that you force us to a challenge. But we have not threatened you. The Council honestly came here to bid for the Pearl..."

"Manag Iss, you repeat their lies," said Elric, "and that is not an honourable thing to do. If they meant me no harm, why were you and all your brothers standing by? I saw almost two hundred warriors in the grounds."

"That was a precaution only," said the Other. She turned to her fellow Councillors. "I told you I thought it was stupid to summon so many so soon."

Elric said evenly: "Everything you have done, my nobles, has been stupid. You have been cruel, greedy, careless of others' lives and wills. You have been blind, thoughtless, provincial and unimaginative. It seems to me that a government so careless of anything but its own gratification should be at very least replaced. When you have all left the city I will consider electing a governor who will know better how to serve Quarzhasaat. Then, later perhaps, I will let you back into the city..."

"Oh, slay him!" cried the Other. "Waste no more time on this. When that's done we can decide amongst ourselves who owns the Pearl"

Elric sighed almost regretfully and said: "Best parley with me now, madam, before I myself lose patience. I shall not, once I have drawn my blade, be a rational and merciful being..."

"Slay him!" she insisted. "And have done with it!"

Manag Iss had the face of a man condemned to more than death. "Madam..."

She strode forward, her conical hat swaying, and tugged the sword from the scabbard. She raised the blade to behead the albino.

He reached out swiftly. His arm was a striking snake. He gripped her wrist. "No, madam! I am, I swear, giving you fair warning..."

Stormbringer murmured at his side and stirred.

She dropped the sword and turned away, nursing her bruised wrist.

Now Manag Iss reached for his fallen blade, making as if to sheath it, and then, with a subtle movement, tried to bring the weapon up and take Elric in the groin, an expression of resignation crossing his terrified features as the albino, anticipating him, sidestepped and in the same action drew the Black Sword, which began to sing its strange demonic song and glow with a terrible black radiance.

Manag Iss gasped as his heart was pierced. The hand that still held the Pearl seemed to stretch out, offering it back to Elric. Then the jewel had rolled from his fingers and rattled on the floor. Three Councillors rushed forward, saw Manag Iss's dying eyes and stepped backward.

"Now! Now! Now!" cried the Other, and, as Elric had expected, from every cranny of the Meeting House, members of the various sects of Sorcerer Adventurers came, their weapons at the ready.

And the albino began to grin his horrible battle-grin, and his red eyes blazed and his face was the skull of Death and his sword was the vengeance of his own people, the vengeance of the Bauradim and all those who had suffered under the injustice of Quarzhasaat over the millennia.

And he offered up the souls he took to his patron Duke of Hell, the powerful Duke Arioch who had grown sleek on many lives dedicated to him by Elric and his black blade.

"Arioch! Arioch! Blood and souls for my lord Arioch!"

Then the true slaughter began.

It was a slaughter to make all other such events pale into insignificance. It was a slaughter that would never be forgotten in all the annals of the desert peoples, who would learn of it from those who fled Quarzhasaat that night-flinging themselves into the waterless desert rather than face the white laughing demon on a Bauradi horse who galloped up and down their lovely streets and taught them what the price of complacency and unthinking cruelty could be.

"Arioch! Ariochl Blood and souls!"

They would speak of a white-faced creature from Hell whose sword poured with unnatural radiance, whose crimson eyes blazed with hideous rage, who seemed possessed, himself, of some supernatural force, who was no more master of it than were his victims. He killed without mercy, without distinction, without cruelty. He killed as a mad wolf kills. And as he killed, he laughed.

That laughter would never leave Quarzhasaat. It would remain on the wind which came in from the Sighing Desert, in the music of the fountains, the clang of the metal-workers' and jewellers' hammers as they fashioned their wares. And so would the smell of blood remain, together with the memory of slaughter, that terrible loss of life which left the city without a Council and an army.

But never again would Quarzhasaat foster the legend of her own power. Never again would she treat the desert nomads as less than beasts. Never again would she know that self-destructive pride so familiar to all great empires in decline.

And when the slaughter was finished, Elric of Melniboné slumped in his saddle, sheathing a sated Stormbringer, and he gasped with the demon power which still pulsed through him and he took a great Pearl from his belt and held it to the rising sun.

"They have paid a fair price now, I think."

He tossed the thing into a gutter where a little dog licked congealing blood.

Above, the vultures, called from a thousand miles around by the prospect of memorable feasting, were beginning to drop like a dark cloud upon the beautiful towers and gardens of Quarzhasaat.

Elric's face held no pride in his achievement as he spurred his horse for the West and the place on the road where he had told Anigh to await them with enough Kwani herbs, water, horses and food to cross the Sighing Desert and seek again the more familiar politics and sorceries of the Young Kingdoms.

He did not look back on the city which, in the name of his ancestors, had been conquered at last.

5 An Epilogue at the Waning of the Blood Moon

The celebrations at the Silver Flower Oasis had continued long after the news came of Elite's vengeance-taking on those who would have harmed the Holy Girl of the Bauradim. The news was brought by Quarzhasaatim, fleeing from the city in an action which had no precedent in all their long history.

Oone the Dreamthief, who had stayed at the Silver Flower Oasis longer than was necessary and who was yet reluctant to leave and go about her proper business, learned of Elric's vengeance without joy. The news saddened her, for she had hoped for something else to happen.

"He serves Chaos as I serve Law," she said to herself. "And who is to say which of us is the worse enslaved?" But she sighed and threw herself into the festivities with a force which was less than spontaneous.

The Bauradim and the other nomad clans did not notice, for their own pleasure was intensified. They were rid of a tyrant, of the only thing in the desert lands that they had ever feared.

"The cactus tears our flesh so that we shall be shown where water is," said Raik Na Seem. "Our troubles were great, but thanks to you, Oone, and Elric of Melniboné, our troubles turned to triumphs. Soon some of us will visit Quarzhasaat and set out the terms on which we intend to trade in future. There will be a welcome equality about the transaction, I think." He was greatly amused. "But we will wait until the dead are decently eaten."

Varadia took Oone's hand and they walked together beside the pools of the great oasis. The Blood Moon was waning and the silver petals of the flowers were shining brighter still. Soon the Blood Moon must wane and the flowers shed their petals and then it would be time for the people of the desert to go their different ways.

"You loved that white-faced man, did you not?" Varadia asked her friend.

"I hardly knew him, child."

"I knew you both very well, not so long ago." Varadia smiled. "And I am growing rapidly, am I not? You said as much yourself."

Oone was forced to agree. "But there was no hope for it, Varadia. We have such different destinies. And I have scant sympathy for the choices he makes."

"He is driven, that one. He has little in the way of ordinary volition." She pushed a strand of honey-coloured hair away from her dark features.

"Perhaps," said Oone. "Yet some of us can refuse the destiny that the Lords of Law and Chaos set out for us and still survive, still create something which the gods are forbidden to touch."

Varadia was sympathetic. "What we create remains a mystery," she said. "It is still hard for me to understand how I made that Pearl, creating the very thing my enemies sought in order to escape them. And then it became real!"

"I have known this to happen," said Oone. "It is those creations that a dreamthief seeks and earns a living from." She laughed. "That Pearl would bring me a good wage for a long time if I took it to market."

"How is it that reality is formed from dreams, Oone?"

Oone paused and looked down into the water which reflected the faint pink disc of the moon. "An oyster, threatened by intrusion from without, seeks to isolate that threat by forming the thing around it that eventually becomes a pearl. Sometimes that is how it happens. At other times the will of humanity is so strong, the desire for something so intense, that they will bring into existence that which was thought until then to be impossible. It is not unusual, Varadia, for a dream to be made reality. This knowledge is one of the reasons why my respect for humanity is maintained, in spite of all the cruelties and injustices I witness in my travels."

"I think I understand," said the Holy Girl.

"Oh, you will understand all this very well in time," Oone assured her. "For you are one of those capable of such creation."

A few days later Oone was ready to ride away from the Silver Flower Oasis, towards Elwher and the Unmapped East. Varadia spoke with her for the last time.

"I know you have a further secret," she said to the dreamthief. "Will you not share it with me?"

Oone was astonished. Her regard for the girl's sensitive intelligence increased. "Do you want to talk more about the nature of dreams and reality?"

"I think you carry a child, Oone," said Varadia directly. "Is that not so?"

Oone folded her arms and leaned against her horse. She shook her head in frank good humour. "It is true that all the wisdom of your people is accumulated in you, young woman."

"The child of one you have loved and who is lost to you?"

"Aye," said Oone. "A daughter, I think. Maybe even a brother and a sister, if the omens are properly interpreted. More than pearls can be conceived in dreams, Varadia."

"And will the father ever know his offspring?" gently asked the Holy Girl.

Oone tried to speak and discovered that she could not. She looked away quickly towards distant Quarzhasaat. Then, after a few moments, she was able to force herself to answer.

"Never," she said.

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