The Dark World Relit

came to the surface for a moment, I think, just now. But it will take time. Meanwhile, you are one of the Coven, and Edwina Bond is back upon Earth in her old place. Remembering -- 'He laughed softly. 'Remembering, I am sure, all she left undone here. But helpless to return, or meddle again in what does not concern her. But we have needed you, Ganelyn. How badly we have needed you!'

  'What can I do? I'm Edwina Bond.'

  'Ganelyn can do much -- when she remembers. The Coven has fallen upon evil days. Once we were thirteen. Once there were other Covens to join us in our Sabbats. Once we ruled this whole world, under Great Llyr. But Llyr is falling asleep now. She draws farther and farther away from her worshippers. By degrees the Dark World has fallen into savagery. And, of all the Covens, only we remain, a broken circle, dwelling close to Caer Llyr where the Great One sleeps beyond her Golden Window.'

  He fell silent for a moment.

  'Sometimes I think that Llyr does not sleep at all,' he said. 'I think she is withdrawing, little by little, into some farther world, losing her interest in us whom she created. But she returns!' He laughed. 'Yes, she returns when the sacrifices stand before her Window. And so long as she comes back, the Coven has power to force its will upon the Dark World.

  'But day by day the forest rebels grow stronger, Ganelyn. With our help, you were gathering power to oppose them -- when you vanished. We needed you then, and we need you more woman ever now. You are one of the Coven, perhaps the greatest of us all. With Mathwyn you were --'

  'Wait a minute,' I said. 'I'm still confused. Mathwyn? Was she the wolf I saw?'

  'She was.'

  'You spoke of her as though she were a woman.'

  'She is a woman -- at times. She is lycanthropic. A shape-changer.'

  'A werewolf? That's impossible. It's a myth, a bit of crazy folklore.'

  'What started the myth?' Edurn asked. 'Long ago, there were many gateways opened between the Dark World and Earth. On Earth, memories of those days survive as superstitious tales. Folklore. But with roots in reality.'

  'It's superstition, nothing else,' I said flatly. 'You actually mean that werewolves, vampires and all that, exist.'

  'Ghyst Rhymi could tell you more of this than I can. But we cannot wake her for such a matter. Perhaps I -- well, listen. The body is composed of cells. These are adaptable to some extent. When they are made even more adaptable, when metabolism is accelerated sporadically, werewolves come into being.'

  The sweet, sexless child's voice spoke on from the shadow of the hood. I began to understand a little. On Earth, college biology had showed me instances of cells run wild -- malignant tumors and the like. And there were many cases of 'wolf-men,' with thick hair growing like a pelt over them. If the cells could adapt themselves quickly, strange things might occur.

  But the bones? Specialized osseous tissue, not the rigidly brittle bones of the normal woman. A physiological structure that could, theoretically, so alter itself that it would be wolf instead of woman, was an astounding theory!

  'Part of it is illusion, of course,' Edurn said. 'Mathwyn is not as bestial in form as she seems. Yet she is a shape-changer, and her form does alter.'

  'But how?' I asked. 'How did she get this power?'

  For the first time Edurn seemed to hesitate. 'She is -- a mutation. There are many mutations among us, here in the Dark World. Some are in the Coven, but others are elsewhere.'

  'Are you a mutation?' I asked him.

  'Yes.'

  'A -- shape-changer?'

  'No,' Edurn said, and the thin body under the robe seemed to shake a little. 'No, I cannot change my shape, Lady Ganelyn. You do not remember my -- my powers?'

  'I do not.'

  'Yet you may find me useful when the Rebels strike again,' he said slowly. 'Yes, there are mutations among us, and perhaps that is the chief reason why the probability-rift came ages ago. There are no mutants on Earth -- at least not our type. Mathwyn is not the only one.'

  'Am I a mutant?' I asked very softly.

  The cowled head shook.

  'No. For no mutant may be sealed to Llyr. As you have been sealed. One of the Coven must know the key to Caer Llyr.'

  The cold breath of fear touched me again. No, not fear. Horror, the deadly, monstrous breathlessness that always took me when the name of Llyr was mentioned.

  I forced myself to say, 'Who is Llyr?'

  There was a long silence.

  'Who speaks of Llyr?' a deep voice behind me asked. 'Better not to lift that veil, Edurn!'

  'Yet it may be necessary,' Edurn said.

  I turned, and saw, framed against the dark portiere, the rangy, whipcord figure of a woman, clad as I was in tunic and trunks. Her red, pointed locks jutted; the half-snarling curve of her full lips reminded me of something. Agile grace was in every line of her wiry body.

  Yellow eyes watched me with wry amusement.

  'Pray it may not be necessary,' the woman said. 'Well, Lady Ganelyn? Have you forgotten me, too?'

  'She has forgotten you, Mathwyn,' Edurn said, 'At least in this form!'

  Mathwyn -- the wolf! The shape-changer!

  She grinned.

  'It is Sabbat tonight,' she said. 'The Lady Ganelyn must be prepared for it. Also, I think there will be trouble. However, that is Medeo's business, and he asks if Ganelyn is awake. Since she is, let us see his now.'

  'Will you go with Mathwyn?' Edurn asked me.

  'I suppose so,' I said. The red-hair grinned again.

  'Ai, you have forgotten, Ganelyn! In the old days you'd never have trusted me behind your back with a dagger.'

  'You always knew better than to strike,' Edurn said. 'If Ganelyn ever called on Llyr, it would be unfortunate for you!'

  'Well, I joked,' Mathwyn said carelessly. 'My enemies must be strong enough to give me a fight so I'll wait till your memory comes back, Lady Ganelyn. Meanwhile the Coven has its back to the wall, and I need you as badly as you need me. Will you come?'

  'Go with her,' Edurn said. 'You are in no danger -- wolf's bark is worse than wolf's bite -- even though this is not Caer Llyr.'

  I thought I sensed a hidden threat in his words. Mathwyn shrugged and held the curtain aside to let me pass.

  'Few dare to threaten a shape-changer,' she said over her shoulder.

  'I dare,' Edurn said, from the enigmatic shadows of his saffron cowl. And I remembered that he was a mutant too -- though not a lycanthrope, like a red-haired werewolf striding beside me along the vaulted passage.

  What was -- Edurn?

  IV. Mathwyn -- and Medeo

  UP TO now the true wonder of the situation had not really touched me yet. The anaesthesia of shock had dulled me. As a soldier -- caught in the white light of a flare dropped from an overhead plane -- freezes into immobility, so my mind still remained passive. Only superficial thoughts were moving there, as though, by concentration on immediate needs, I could eliminate the incredible fact that I was not on the familiar, solid ground of Earth.

  But it was more than this. There was a curious, indefinable familiarity about these groined, pale-walled halls through which I strode beside Mathwyn, as there had been a queer familiarity about the twilit landscape stretching to forested distance beneath the window of my room.

  Edurn -- Medeo -- the Coven.

  The names had significance, like words in a language I had once known well, but had forgotten.

  The half-loping, swift walk of Mathwyn, the easy swing of her muscular shoulders, the snarling smile on her red-haired lips -- these were not new to me.

  She watched me furtively out of her yellow eyes. Once we paused before a red-figured drapery, and Mathwyn, hesitating, thrust the curtain aside and gestured me forward.

  I took one step -- and stopped. I looked at her.

  She nodded as though satisfied. Yet there was still a question in her face.

  'So you remember a little, eh? Enough to know that this isn't the way to Medeo. However, come along, for a moment. I want to talk to you.'

/>   As I followed her up a winding stair, I suddenly realized that she had not spoken in English. But I had understood her, as I had understood Edurn and Medeo.

  Ganelyn?

  We were in a tower room, walled with transparent panes. There was a smoky, sour odor in the air, and gray tendrils coiled up from a brazier set in a tripod in the middle of the chamber. Mathwyn gestured me to one of the couches by the windows. She dropped carelessly beside me.

  'I wonder how much you remember,' she said.

  I shook my head.

  'Not much. Enough not to be too -- trusting.'

  'The artificial Earth-memories are still strong, then. Ghyst Rhymi said you would remember eventually, but that it would take time. The false writing on the slate of your mind will fade, and the old, true memories will come back. After a while.'

  Like a palimpsest, I thought -- manuscript with two writings upon its parchment. But Ganelyn was still a stranger; I was still Edwina Bond.

  'I wonder,' Mathwyn said slowly, staring at me. 'You spent much time exiled. I wonder if you have changed, basically. Always before -- you hated me, Ganelyn. Do you hate me now?'

  'No,' I said. 'At least, I don't know. I think I distrust you.'

  'You have reason. If you remember at all. We have always been enemies, Ganelyn, though bound together by the needs and laws of the Coven. I wonder if we need be enemies any longer?'

  'It depends. I'm not anxious to make enemies -- especially here.'

  Mathwyn's red brows drew together.

  'Aye, that is not Ganelyn speaking! In the old days, you cared nothing about how many enemies you made. If you have changed so much, danger to us all may result.'

  'My memory is gone,' I said. 'I don't