Moorcock Michael. Legends from the End of Time: Elric at the End of Time

   The landscape of this world of Chaos changed rapidly as they rode. They galloped through forests of crystalline trees, over fields of glowing flowers, leapt rivers the colour of blood and the consistency of mercury, and their tireless mounts maintained a headlong pace which never faltered. Through clouds of boiling gas which wept, through rain, through snow, through intolerable heat, through shallow lakes in which oddly fashioned fish wriggled and gasped, until at last a range of mountains came in sight.
   "There! " panted Werther, pointing with his own runesword. "Their lair. Oh, the fiends! How can we climb such smooth cliffs?"
   It was true that the base of the cliffs rose some hundred feet before they became suddenly ragged, like the rotting teeth of the beggars of Nadsokor. They were of dusky, purple obsidian and so smooth as to reflect the faces of the three adventurers who stared at them in despair.
   It was Elric who saw the steps put into the side of the cliff.
   "These will take us up some of the way, at least."
   "It could be a trap, " said the Duke of Queens. He, too, seemed to be relishing the opportunity to take action. Although a Lord of Chaos there was something about him that made Elric respond to a fellow spirit.
   "Let them trap us, " said Elric laconically. "We have our swords."
   With a wild laugh, Werther de Goethe was the first to swing himself from his saddle and run towards the steps, leaping up them almost as if he had the power of flight. Elric and the Duke of Queens followed more slowly.
   Their feet slipping in the narrow spaces not meant for mortals to climb, ever aware of the dizzying drop on their left, the three came at last to the top of the cliff and stood clinging to sharp crags, staring across a plain at a crazy castle rising into the clouds before them.
   "Their stronghold, " said Werther.
   "What are these creatures?" Elric asked. "Why do they attack you? Why do they capture the Lady Christia?"
   "They nurse an abiding hatred for us, " explained the Duke of Queens, and looked expectantly at Werther, who added:
   "This was their world before it became ours."
   "And before it became theirs, " said the Duke of Queens, "it was the world of the Yargtroon."
   "The Yargtroon?" Elric frowned.
   "They dispossessed the bodiless vampire goat-folk of Kia, " explained Werther. "Who, in turn, destroyed — or thought they destroyed — the Grash-Tu-Xem, a race of Old Ones older than any Old Ones except the Elder Old Ones of Ancient Thriss."
   "Older even than Chaos?" asked Elric.
   "Oh, far older, " said Werther.
   "It's almost completely collapsed, it's so old, " added the Duke of Queens.
   Elric was baffled. "Thriss?"
   "Chaos, " said the Duke.
   Elric let a thin smile play about his lips. "You still mock me, my lord. The power of Chaos is the greatest there is, only equalled by the power of Law."
   "Oh, certainly, " agreed the Duke of Queens.
   Elric became suspicious again. "Do you play with me, my lord?"
   "Well, naturally, we try to please our guests…"
   Werther interrupted. "Yonder doomy edifice holds the one I love. Somewhere within its walls she is incarcerated, while ghouls taunt at her and devils threaten."
   "The bird-monsters…?" began Elric.
   "Chimerae, " said the Duke of Queens. "You saw only one of the shapes they assume."
   Elric understood this. "Aha! "
   "But how can we enter it?" Werther spoke almost to himself.
   "We must wait until nightfall, " said Elric, "and enter under the cover of darkness."
   "Nightfall?" Werther brightened.
   Suddenly they were in utter darkness.
   Somewhere the Duke of Queens lost his footing and fell with a muffled curse.

9 In which Mrs Persson At Last Makes Contact with Her Old Friend

   They stood together beneath the striped awning of the tent while a short distance away armoured men, mounted on armoured horses, jousted, were injured or died. The two members wore appropriate costumes for the period. Lord Jagged looked handsome in his surcoat and mail, but Una Persson merely looked uncomfortable in her wimple and kirtle.
   "I can't leave just now, " he was saying. "I am laying the foundations for a very important development."
   "Which will come to nothing unless Elric is returned, " she said.
   A knight with a broken lance thundered past, covering them in dust.
   "Well played Sir Holger! " called Lord Jagged. "An ancestor of mine, you know, " he told her.
   "You will not be able to recognize the world of the End of Time when you return, if this is allowed to continue, " she said.
   "It's always difficult, isn't it?" But he was listening to her now.
   "These disruptions could as easily affect us and leave us stranded, " she added. "We would lose any freedom we have gained."
   He bit into a pomegranate and offered it to her. "You can only get these in this area. Did you know? Impossible to find in England. In the thirteenth century, at any rate. The idea of freedom is such a nebulous one, isn't it? Most of the time when angry people are speaking of 'freedom' what they are actually asking for is much simpler — respect. Do those in authority or those with power ever really respect those who do not have power?" He paused. "Or do they mean 'power' and not 'freedom'. Or are they the same…?"
   "Really, Jagged, this is no time for self-indulgence."
   He looked about him. "There's little else to do in the Middle East in the thirteenth century, I assure you, except eat pomegranates and philosophize…"
   "You must come back to the End of Time."
   He wiped his handsome chin. "Your urgency, " he said, "worries me, Una. These matters should be handled with delicacy — slowly…"
   "The entire fabric will collapse unless he is returned to his own dimension. He is an important factor in the whole plan."
   "Well, yes, I understand that."
   "He is, in one sense at least, your protege."
   "I know. But not my responsibility."
   "You must help."
   There was a loud bang and a crash.
   A splinter flew into Mrs Persson's eye.
   "Oh, zounds! " she said.

10 In which The Castle is Assaulted and The Plot Thickened

   A moon had appeared above the spires of the castle which seemed to Elric to have changed its shape since he had first seen it. He meant to ask his companions for an explanation, but at present they were all sworn to silence as they crept nearer. From within the castle burst light, emanating from guttering brands stuck into brackets on the walls. There was laughter, noise of feasting. Hidden behind a rock they peered through one large window and inspected the scene within.
   The entire hall was full of men wearing identical costumes. They had black skull caps, loose white blouses and trousers, black shoes. Their eyebrows were black in dead white faces, even paler than Elric's and they had bright red lips.
   "Aha, " whispered Werther, "the parrots are celebrating their victory. Soon they will be too drunk to know what is happening to them."
   "Parrots?" said Elric. "What is that word?"
   "Pierrots, he means, " said the Duke of Queens. "Don't you, Werther?" There were evidently certain words which did not translate easily into the High Speech of Melnibone.
   "Ssh, " said the Last Romantic, "they will capture us and torture us to death if they detect our presence."
   They worked their way around the castle. It was guarded at intervals by gigantic warriors whom Elric at first mistook for statues, save that, when he looked closely, he could see them breathing very slowly. They were unarmed, but their fists and feet were disproportionately large and could crush any intruder they detected.
   "They are sluggish, by the look of them, " said Elric. "If we are quick, we can run beneath them and enter the castle before they realize it. Let me try first. If I succeed, you follow."
   Werther clapped his new comrade on the back. "Very well."
   Elric waited until the nearest guard halted and spread his huge feet apart, then he dashed forward, scuttling like an insect between the giant's legs and flinging himself through a dimly lit window. He found himself in some sort of store-room. He had not been seen, though the guard cocked his ear for half a moment before resuming his pace.
   Elric looked cautiously out and signalled to his companions. The Duke of Queens waited for the guard to stop again, then he, too, made for the window and joined Elric. He was panting and grinning. "This is wonderful, " he said.
   Elric admired his spirit. There was no doubt that the guard could crush any of them to a pulp, even if (as still nagged at his brain) this was all some sort of complicated illusion.
   Another dash, and Werther was with them.
   Cautiously, Elric opened the door of the store-room. They looked onto a deserted landing. They crossed the landing and looked over a balustrade. They had expected to see another hall, but instead there was a miniature lake on which floated the most beautiful miniature ship, all mother-of-pearl, brass and ebony, with golden sails and silver masts. Surrounding this ship were mermaids and mermen bearing trays of exotic food (reminding Elric how hungry he still was) which they fed to the ship's only passenger, Mistress Christia.
   "She is under an enchantment, " said Elric. "They beguile her with illusions so that she will not wish to come with us even if we do rescue her. Do you know no counter-spells?"
   Werther thought for a moment. Then he shook his head.
   "You must be very minor Lords of Chaos, " said Elric, biting his lower lip.
   From the lake, Mistress Christia giggled and drew one of the mermaids towards her. "Come here, my pretty piscine! "
   "Mistress Christia! " hissed Werther de Goethe.
   "Oh! " The captive widened her eyes (which were now both large and blue). "At last! "
   "You wish to be rescued?" said Elric.
   "Rescued? Only by you, most alluring of albinos! "
   Elric hardened his features. "I am not the one who loves you, madam."
   "What? I am loved? By whom? By you, Duke of Queens?"
   "Sshh, " said Elric. "The demons will hear us."
   "Oh, of course, " said Mistress Christia gravely, and fell silent for a second. "I'll get rid of all this, shall I?"
   And she touched one of her rings.
   Ship, lake and merfolk were gone. She lay on silken cushions, attended by monkeys.
   "Sorcery! " said Elric, "if she has such power, then why —?"
   "It is limited, " explained Werther. "Merely to such tricks."
   "Quite, " said Mistress Christia.
   Elric glared at them. "You surrounded me with illusions. You make me think I am aiding you, when really…"
   "No, no! " cried Werther. "I assure you, Lord Elric, you have our greatest respect — well, mine at least — we are only attempting to —"
   There was a roar from the gallery above. Rank upon rank of grinning demons looked down upon them. They were armed to the teeth.
   "Hurry! " The Duke of Queens leapt to the cushions and seized Mistress Christia, flinging her over his shoulder. "We can never defeat so many! "
   The demons were already rushing down the circular staircase. Elric, still not certain whether his new friends deceived him or not, made a decision. He called to the Duke of Queens. "Get her from the castle. We'll keep them from you for a few moments, at least." He could not help himself. He behaved impulsively.
   The Duke of Queens, sword in hand, Mistress Christia over the other shoulder, ran into a narrow passage. Elric and Werther stood together as the demons rushed down on them. Blade met blade. There was an unbearable shrilling of steel mingled with the cacklings and shrieks of the demons as they gnashed their teeth and rolled their eyes and slashed at the pair with swords, knives and axes. But worst of all was the smell. The dreadful smell of burning flesh which filled the air and threatened to choke Elric. It came from the demons. The smell of Hell. He did his best to cover his nostrils as he fought, certain that the smell must overwhelm him before the swords. Above him was a set of metal rungs fixed into the stones, leading high into a kind of chimney. As a pause came he pointed upward to Werther, who understood him. For a moment they managed to drive the demons back. Werther jumped onto Elric's shoulders (again displaying a strange lightness) and reached down to haul the albino after him.
   While the demons wailed and cackled below, they began to climb the chimney.
   They climbed for nearly fifty feet before they found themselves in a small, round room whose windows looked out over the purple crags and, beyond them, to a scene of bleak rocky pavements pitted with holes, like some vast unlikely cheese.
   And there, rolling over this relatively flat landscape, in full daylight (for the sun had risen) was the Duke of Queens in a carriage of brass and wood, studded with jewels, and drawn by two bovine creatures which looked to Elric as if they might be the fabulous oxen of mythology who had drawn the war-chariot of his ancestors to do battle with the emerging nations of mankind.
   Mistress Christia was beside the Duke of Queens. They seemed to be waiting for Elric and Werther.
   "It's impossible, " said the albino. "We could not get out of this tower, let alone those crags. I wonder how they managed to move so quickly and so far. And where did the chariot itself come from?"
   "Stolen, no doubt, from the demons, " said Werther. "See, there are wings here." He indicated a heap of feathers in the corner of the room. "We can use those."
   "What wizardry is this?" said Elric. "Man cannot fly on bird wings."
   "With the appropriate spell he can, " said Werther. "I am not that well versed in the magic arts, of course, but let me see…" He picked up one set of wings. They were soft and glinted with subtle, rainbow colours. He placed them on Elric's back, murmuring his spell:
   "Oh, for the wings, for the wings of a dove ,
   To carry me to the one I love…"
   "There! " He was very pleased with himself. Elric moved his shoulders and his wings began to flap. "Excellent! Off you go, Elric. I'll join you in a moment."
   Elric hesitated, then saw the head of the first demon emerging from the hole in the floor. He jumped to the window ledge and leapt into space. The wings sustained him. Against all logic he flew smoothly towards the waiting chariot and behind him came Werther de Goethe. At the windows of the tower the demons crowded, shaking fists and weapons as their prey escaped them.
   Elric landed rather awkwardly beside the chariot and was helped aboard by the Duke of Queens. Werther joined them, dropping expertly amongst them. He removed the wings from the albino's back and nodded to the Duke of Queens who yelled at the oxen, cracking his whip as they began to move.
   Mistress Christia flung her arms about Elric's neck. "What courage! What resourcefulness! " she breathed. "Without you, I should now be ruined! "
   Elric sheathed Stormbringer. "We all three worked together for your rescue, madam." Gently he removed her arms. Courteously he bowed and leaned against the far side of the chariot as it bumped and hurtled over the peculiar rocky surface.
   "Swifter! Swifter! " called the Duke of Queens, casting urgent looks backwards. "We are followed! "
   From the disappearing tower there now poured a host of flying, gibbering things. Once again the creatures had changed shape and had assumed the form of striped, winged cats, all glaring eyes, fangs and extended claws.
   The rock became viscous, clogging the wheels of the chariot, as they reached what appeared to be a silvery road, flowing between the high trees of an alien forest already touched by a weird twilight.
   The first of the flying cats caught up with them, slashing.
   Elric drew Stormbringer and cut back. The beast roared in pain, blood streaming from its severed leg, its wings flapping in Elric's face as it hovered and attempted to snap at the sword.
   The chariot rolled faster, through the forest to green fields touched by the moon. The days were short, it seemed, in this part of Chaos. A path stretched skyward. The Duke of Queens drove the chariot straight up it, heading for the moon itself.
   The moon grew larger and larger and still the demons pursued them, but they could not fly as fast as the chariot which went so swiftly that sorcery must surely speed it. Now they could only be heard in the darkness behind and the silver moon was huge.
   "There! " called Werther. "There is safety! "
   On they raced until the moon was reached, the oxen leaping in their traces, galloping over the gleaming surface to where a white palace awaited them.
   "Sanctuary, " said the Duke of Queens. And he laughed a wild, full laugh of sheer joy.
   The palace was like ivory, carved and wrought by a million hands, every inch covered with delicate designs.
   Elric wondered. "Where is this place?" he asked. "Does it lie outside the Realm of Chaos?"
   Werther seemed nonplussed. "You mean our world?"
   "Aye."
   "It is still part of our world, " said the Duke of Queens.
   "Is the palace to your liking?" asked Werther.
   "It is lovely."
   "A trifle pale for my own taste, " said the Last Romantic. "It was Mistress Christia's idea."
   "You built this?" The albino turned to the woman. "When?"
   "Just now." She seemed surprised.
   Elric nodded. "Aha. It is within the power of Chaos to create whatever whims it pleases."
   The chariot crossed a white drawbridge and entered a white courtyard. In it grew white flowers. They dismounted and entered a huge hall, white as bone, in which red lights glowed. Again Elric began to suspect mockery, but the faces of the Chaos lords showed only pleasure. He realized that he was dizzy with hunger and weariness, as he had been ever since he had been flung into this terrible world where no shape was constant, no idea permanent.
   "Are you hungry?" asked Mistress Christia.
   He nodded. And suddenly the room was filled by a long table on which all kinds of food were heaped — and everything, meats and fruits and vegetables, was white.
   Elric moved to take the seat she indicated and he put some of the food on a silver plate and he touched it to his lips and he tasted it. It was delicious. Forgetting suspicion, he began to eat heartily, trying not to consider the colourless quality of the meal. Werther and the Duke of Queens also took some food, but it seemed they ate only from politeness. Werther glanced up at the faraway roof. "What a wonderful tomb this would make, " he said. "Your imagination improves, Mistress Christia."
   "Is this your domain?" asked Elric. "The moon?"
   "Oh no, " she said. "It was all made for the occasion."
   "Occasion?"
   "For your adventure, " she said. Then she fell silent.
   Elric became grave. "Those demons? They were not your enemies. They belong to you! "
   "Belong?" said Mistress Christia. She shook her head.
   Elric frowned and pushed back his plate. "I am, however, most certainly your captive." He stood up and paced the white floor. "Will you not return me to my own plane?"
   "You would come back almost immediately, " said Werther de Goethe. "It is called the Morphail Effect. And if you did not come here, you would yet remain in your own future. It is in the nature of Time."
   "This is nonsense, " said Elric. "I have left my own realm before and returned — though admittedly memory becomes weak, as with dreams poorly recalled."
   "No man can go back in Time, " said the Duke of Queens. "Ask Brannart Morphail."
   "He, too, is a Lord of Chaos?"
   "If you like. He is a colleague."
   "Could he not return me to my realm? He sounds a clever being."
   "He could not and he would not, " said Mistress Christia. "Haven't you enjoyed your experiences here so far?"
   "Enjoyed?" Elric was astonished. "Madam, I think … Well, what has happened this day is not what we mortals would call 'enjoyment'! "
   "But you seemed to be enjoying yourself, " said the Duke of Queens in some disappointment. "Didn't he, Werther?"
   "You were much more cheerful through the whole episode, " agreed the Last Romantic. "Particularly when you were fighting the demons."
   "As with many time travellers who suffer from anxieties, " said Mistress Christia, "you appeared to relax when you had something immediate to capture your attention…"
   Elric refused to listen. This was clever Chaos talk, meant to deceive him and take his mind from his chief concern.
   "If I was any help to you, " he began, "I am, of course…"
   "He isn't very grateful, " Mistress Christia pouted.
   Elric felt madness creeping nearer again. He calmed himself.
   "I thank you for the food, madam. Now, I would sleep."
   "Sleep?" she was disconcerted. "Oh! Of course. Yes. A bedroom?"
   "If you have such a thing."
   "As many as you like." She moved a stone on one of her rings. The walls seemed to draw back to show bedchamber after bedchamber, in all manner of styles, with beds of every shape and fashion. Elric controlled his temper. He bowed, thanked her, said goodnight to the two lords and made for the nearest bed.
   As he closed the door behind him, he thought he heard Werther de Goethe say: "We must try to think of a better entertainment for him when he wakes up."

11 In which Mrs Persson Witnesses the First Sign of the Megaflow's Disintegration

   In Castle Canaria Lord Jagged unrolled his antique charts. He had had them drawn for him by a baffled astrologer in 1950. They were one of his many affectations. At the moment, however, they were of considerably greater use than Alvarez's electronics.
   While he used a wrist computer to check his figures, Una Persson looked out of the window of Castle Canaria and wondered who had invented this particular landscape. A green and orange sun cast sickening light over the herds of grazing beasts who resembled, from this distance at any rate, nothing so much as gigantic human hands. In the middle of the scene was raised some kind of building in the shape of a vast helmet, vaguely Greek in conception. Beyond that was a low, grey moon. She turned away.
   "I must admit, " said Lord Jagged, "that I had not understood the extent…"
   "Exactly, " she said.
   "You must forgive me. A certain amount of amnesia — euphoria, perhaps? — always comes over one in these very remote periods."
   "Quite."
   He looked up from the charts. "We've a few hours at most."
   Her smile was thin, her nod barely perceptible.
   While she made the most of having told him so, Lord Jagged frowned, turned a power ring and produced an already lit pipe which he placed thoughtfully in his mouth, taking it out again almost immediately. "That wasn't Dunhill Standard Medium." He laid the pipe aside.
   There came a loud buzzing noise from the window. The scene outside was disintegrating as if melting on glass. An eerie golden light spread everywhere, flooding from an apex of deeper gold, as if forming a funnel.
   "That's a rupture, " said Lord Jagged. His voice was tense. He put his arm about her shoulders. "I've never seen anything of the size before."
   Rushing towards them along the funnel of light there came an entire city of turrets and towers and minarets in a wide variety of pastel colours. It was set into a saucer-shaped base which was almost certainly several miles in circumference.
   For a moment the city seemed to retreat. The golden light faded. The city remained, some distance away, swaying a little as if on a gentle tide, a couple of thousand feet above the ground, the grey moon below it.
   "That's what I call megaflow distortion, " said Una Persson in that inappropriately facetious tone adopted by those who are deeply frightened.
   "I recognize the period." Jagged drew a telescope from his robes. "Second Candlemaker's Empire, mainly based in Arcturus. This is a village by their standards. After all, Earth was merely a rural park during that time." He retreated into academe, his own response to fear.
   Una craned her head. "Isn't that some sort of vehicle heading towards the city. From the moon — good heavens, they've spotted it already. Are they going to try to put the whole thing into a menagerie?"
   Jagged had the advantage of the telescope. "I think not." He handed her the instrument.
   Through it she saw a scarlet and black chariot borne by what seemed to be some form of flying fairground horses. In the chariot, armed to the teeth with lances, bows, spears, swords, axes, morningstars, maces and almost every other barbaric hand-weapon, clad in quasi-mythological armour, were Werther de Goethe, the Duke of Queens and Elric of Melnibone.
   "They're attacking it! " she said faintly. "What will happen when the two groups intersect?"
   "Three groups, " he pointed out. "Untangling that in a few hours is going to be even harder."
   "And if we fail?"
   He shrugged. "We might just as well give ourselves up to the biggest chronoquake the universe has ever experienced."
   "You're exaggerating, " she said.
   "Why not? Everyone else is."

12 The Attack on the Citadel of the Skies

   "Melnibone! Melnibone! " cried the albino as the chariot circled over the spires and turrets of the city. They saw startled faces below. Strange engines were being dragged through the narrow streets.
   "Surrender! " Elric demanded.
   "I do not think they can understand us, " said the Duke of Queens. "What a find, eh? A whole city from the past! "
   Werther had been reluctant to embark on an adventure not of his own creation, but Elric, realizing that here at last was a chance of escape, had been anxious to begin. The Duke of Queens had, in an instant, aided the albino by producing costumes, weapons, transport. Within minutes of the city's appearance, they had been on their way.
   Exactly why Elric wished to attack the city, Werther could not make out, unless it was some test of the Melnibonean's to see if his companions were true allies or merely pretending to have befriended him. Werther was learning a great deal from Elric, much more than he had ever learned from Mongrove, whose ideas of angst were only marginally less notional than Werther's own.
   A broad, flat blue ray beamed from the city. It singed one wheel of the chariot.
   "Ha! They make sorcerous weapons, " said Elric. "Well, my friends. Let us see you counter with your own power."
   Werther obediently imitated the blue ray and sent it back from his fingers, slicing the tops off several towers. The Duke of Queens typically let loose a different coloured ray from each of his extended ten fingers and bored a hole all the way through the bottom of the city so that fields could be seen below. He was pleased with the effect.
   "This is the power of the Gods of Chaos! " cried Elric, a familiar elation filling him as the blood of old Melnibone was fired. "Surrender! "
   "Why do you want them to surrender?" asked the Duke of Queens in some disappointment.
   "Their city evidently has the power to fly through the dimensions. If I became its lord I could force it to return to my own plane, " said Elric reasonably.
   "The Morphail Effect…" began Werther, but realized he was spoiling the spirit of the game. "Sorry."
   The blue ray came again, but puttered out and faded before it reached them.
   "Their power is gone! " cried Elric. "Your sorcery defeats them, my lords. Let us land and demand they honour us as their new rulers."
   With a sigh, Werther ordered the chariot to set down in the largest square. Here they waited until a few of the citizens began to arrive, cautious and angry, but evidently in no mood to give any further resistance.
   Elric addressed them. "It was necessary to attack and conquer you, for I must return to my own realm, there to fulfil my great destiny. If you will take me to Melnibone, I will demand nothing further from you."
   "One of us really ought to take a translation pill, " said Werther. "These people probably have no idea where they are."
   A meaningless babble came from the citizens. Elric frowned. "They understand not the High Speech, " he said. "I will try the Common Tongue." He spoke in a language neither Werther, the Duke of Queens nor the citizens of this settlement could understand.
   He began to show signs of frustration. He drew his sword Stormbringer. "By the Black Sword, know that I am Elric, last of the royal line of Melnibone! You must obey me. Is there none here who understands the High Speech?"
   Then, from the crowd, stepped a being far taller than the others. He was dressed in robes of dark blue and deepest scarlet and his face was haughty, beautiful and full of evil.
   "I speak the High Tongue, " he said.
   Werther and the Duke of Queens were nonplussed. This was no-one they recognized.
   Elric gestured. "You are the ruler of the city?"
   "Call me that, if you will."
   "Your name?"
   "I am known by many names. And you know me, Elric of Melnibone, for I am your lord and your friend."
   "Ah, " said Elric lowering his sword, "this is the greatest deception of them all. I am a fool."
   "Merely a mortal, " said the newcomer, his voice soft, amused and full of a subtle arrogance. "Are these the renegades who helped you?"
   "Renegades?" said Werther. "Who are you, sir?"
   "You should know me, rogue lords. You aid a mortal and defy your brothers of Chaos."
   "Eh?" said the Duke of Queens. "I haven't got a brother."
   The stranger ignored him. "Demigods who thought that by helping this mortal they could threaten the power of the Greater Ones."
   "So you did aid me against your own, " said Elric. "Oh, my friends! "
   "And they shall be punished! "
   Werther began: "We regret any damage to your city. After all, you were not invited…"
   The Duke of Queens was laughing. "Who are you? What disguise is this?"
   "Know me for your master." The eyes of the stranger glowed with myriad fires. "Know me for Arioch, Duke of Hell! "
   "Arioch! " Elric became filled with a strange joy. "Arioch! I called upon thee and was not answered! "
   "I was not in this realm, " said the Duke of Hell. "I was forced to be absent. And while I was gone, fools thought to displace me."
   "I really cannot follow all this, " said the Duke of Queens. He set aside his mace. "I must confess I become a trifle bored, sir. If you will excuse me."
   "You will not escape me." Arioch lifted a languid hand and the Duke of Queens was frozen to the ground, unable to move anything save his eyes.
   "You are interfering, sir, with a perfectly —" Werther too was struck dumb and paralysed.
   But Elric refused to quail. "Lord Arioch, I have given you blood and souls. You owe me…"
   "I owe you nothing, Elric of Melnibone. Nothing I do not choose to owe. You are my slave…"
   "No, " said Elric. "I serve you. There are old bonds. But you cannot control me, Lord Arioch, for I have a power within me which you fear. It is the power of my very mortality."
   The Duke of Hell shrugged. "You will remain in the Realm of Chaos forever. Your mortality will avail you little here."
   "You need me in my own realm, to be your agent. That, too, I know, Lord Arioch."
   The handsome head lowered a fraction as if Arioch considered this. The beautiful lips smiled. "Aye, Elric. It is true that I need you to do my work. For the moment it is impossible for the Lords of Chaos to interfere directly in the world of mortals, for we should threaten our own existence. The rate of entropy would increase beyond even our control. The day has not yet come when Law and Chaos must decide the issue once and for all. But it will come soon enough for you, Elric."
   "And my sword will be at your service, Lord Arioch."
   "Will it, Elric?"
   Elric was surprised by this doubting tone. He had always served Chaos, as his ancestors had. "Why should I turn against you? Law has no attractions for one such as Elric of Melnibone."
   The Duke of Hell was silent.
   "And there is the bargain, " added Elric. "Return me to my own realm, Lord Arioch, so that I might keep it."
   Arioch sighed. "I am reluctant."
   "I demand it, " bravely said the albino.
   "Oho! " Arioch was amused. "Well, mortal, I'll reward your courage and I'll punish your insolence. The reward will be that you are returned whence you came, before you called on Chaos in your battle with that pathetic wizard. The punishment is that you will recall every incident that occurred since then — but only in your dreams. You will be haunted by the puzzle for the rest of your life — and you will never for a moment be able to express what mystifies you."
   Elric smiled. "I am already haunted by a curse of that kind, my lord."
   "Be that as it may, I have made my decision."
   "I accept it, " said the albino, and he sheathed his sword, Stormbringer.
   "Then come with me, " said Arioch, Duke of Hell. And he drifted forward, took Elric by the arm, and lifted them both high into the sky, floating over distorted scenes, half-formed dream-worlds, the whims of the Lords of Chaos, until they came to a gigantic rock shaped like a skull. And through one of the eye-sockets Lord Arioch bore Elric of Melnibone. And down strange corridors that whispered and displayed all manner of treasures. And up into a landscape, a desert in which grew many strange plants, while overhead could be seen a land of snow and mountains, equally alien. And from his robes Arioch, Duke of Hell, produced a wand and he bade Elric to take hold of the wand, which was hot to the touch and glittered, and he placed his own slender hand at the other end, and he murmured words which Elric could not understand and together they began to fade from the landscape, into the darkness of limbo where many eyes accused them, to an island in a grey and storm-tossed sea; an island littered with destruction and with the dead.
   Then Arioch, Duke of Hell, laughed a little and vanished, leaving the Prince of Melnibone sprawled amongst corpses and ruins while heavy rain beat down upon him.
   And in the scabbard at Elric's side, Stormbringer stirred and murmured once more.

13 In which There is a Small Celebration at the End of Time

   Werther de Goethe and the Duke of Queens blinked their eyes and found that they could move their heads. They stood in a large, pleasant room full of charts and ancient instruments. Mistress Christia was there, too.
   Una Persson was smiling as she watched golden light fade from the sky. The city had disappeared, hardly any the worse for its experience. She had managed to save the two friends without a great deal of fuss, for the citizens had still been bewildered by what had happened to them. Because of the megaflow distortion, the Morphail Effect would not manifest itself. They would never understand where they had been or what had actually happened.
   "Who on earth was that fellow who turned up?" asked the Duke of Queens. "Some friend of yours, Mrs Persson? He's certainly no sportsman."
   "Oh, I wouldn't agree. You could call him the ultimate sportsman, " she said. "I am acquainted with him, as a matter of fact."
   "It's not Jagged in disguise is it?" said Mistress Christia who did not really know what had gone on. "This is Jagged's castle — but where is Jagged?"
   "You are aware how mysterious he is, " Una answered. "I happened to be here when I saw that Werther and the Duke were in trouble in the city and was able to be of help."
   Werther scowled (a very good copy of Elric's own scowl). "Well, it isn't good enough."
   "It was a jolly adventure while it lasted, you must admit, " said the Duke of Queens.
   "It wasn't meant to be jolly, " said Werther. "It was meant to be significant."
   Lord Jagged entered the room. He wore his familiar yellow robes. "How pleasant, " he said. "When did all of you arrive?"
   "I have been here for some time, " Mrs Persson explained, "but Werther and the Duke of Queens…"
   "Just got here, " explained the Duke. "I hope we're not intruding. Only we had a slight mishap and Mrs Persson was good enough…"
   "Always delighted, " said the insincere lord. "Would you care to see my new —?"
   "I'm on my way home, " said the Duke of Queens. "I just stopped by. Mrs Persson will explain."
   "I, too, " said Werther suspiciously, "am on my way back."
   "Very well. Goodbye."
   Werther summoned an air car, a restrained figure of death, in rags with a sickle, who picked the three up in his hand and bore them towards a bleak horizon.
   It was only days later, when he went to visit Mongrove to tell him of his adventures and solicit his friend's advice, that Werther realized he was still speaking High Melnibonean. Some nagging thought remained with him for a long while after that. It concerned Lord Jagged, but he could not quite work out what was involved.
   After this incident there were no further disruptions at the End of Time until the conclusion of the story concerning Jherek Carnelian and Mrs Amelia Underwood.

14 In which Elric of Melnibone Recovers from a Variety of Enchantments and Becomes Determined to Return to the Dreaming City

   Elric was awakened by the rain on his face. Wearily he peered around him. To left and right there were only the dismembered corpses of the dead, the Krettii and the Filkharian sailors destroyed during his battle with the half-brute who had somehow gained so much sorcerous power. He shook his milk-white hair and he raised crimson eyes to the grey, boiling sky.
   It seemed that Arioch had aided him, after all. The sorcerer was destroyed and he, Elric, remained alive. He recalled the sweet, bantering tones of his patron demon. Familiar tones, yet he could not remember what the words had been.
   He dragged himself over the dead and waded through the shallows towards the Filkharian ship which still had some of its crew. They were, by now, anxious to head out into open sea again rather than face any more terrors on The Sorcerer's Isle.
   He determined to see Cymoril, whom he loved, to regain his throne from Yyrkoon, his cousin…

15 In which a Brief Reunion Takes Place at the Time Centre

   With the manuscript of Colonel Pyat's rather dangerous volume of memoirs safely back in her briefcase, Una Persson decided it was the right moment to check into the Time Centre. Alvarez should be on duty again and his instruments should be registering any minor imbalances resulting from the episode concerning the gloomy albino.
   Alvarez was not alone. Lord Jagged was there, in a disreputable Norfolk jacket and smoking a battered briar. He had evidently been holidaying in Victorian England. He was pleased to see her.
   Alvarez ran his gear through all functions. "Sweet and neat, " he said. "It hasn't been as good since I don't know when. We've you to thank for that, Mrs P."
   She was modest.
   "Certainly not. Jagged was the one. Your disguise was wonderful, Jagged. How did you manage to imitate that character so thoroughly? It convinced Elric. He really thought you were whatever it was — a Chaos Duke?"
   Jagged waved a modest hand.
   "I mean, " said Una, "it's almost as if you were this fellow 'Arioch'…"
   But Lord Jagged only puffed on his pipe and smiled a secret and superior smile.