"My name is Sandy," said the woman, still smiling at Gordon. "You're the first person I've met since I, uh, I arrived here, wherever here is." She looked around at the sea, then gazed once again at Gordon.
Gordon sat up and leaned forward.
"Sandy? Your name is Sandy? Do you live in this world?"
"Not on your life. I just sort of popped in and have been wandering around for days. I found this raft and floated down a river and found myself in this lake."
"But, but, how did you get here. I mean, in this world?"
Sandra Brickle frowned, then smiled again, but only momentarily.
"I was in my apartment. I remember looking at some little brooch and saying the words written there, then I found myself on a mountain. I climbed down the mountain and walked for days it seemed. Then I found a stream and followed it. I always assume that waterways are good bets when you're lost, don't you? Anyway, my stream ended by going over a cliff, so I climbed down and ... well, come to think of it, I'm not exactly sure how I got down that cliff. I guess I had a little help from a certain Ghost. So I then found a bigger stream, the River of Monash, and this raft was on the shore and I floated for days until, until -"
Sandra began to cry, holding her face in her hands and sobbing and Gordon reached out and Sandra reached out and they held each other for some time, saying nothing, and the raft rolled gently in the cool blue-green waters of the Chalma Sea. Then he pushed her away, carefully.
"Did you say something about a ghost?" Gordon asked.
"Ghost? Yes, and she was really very kind."
"Was she beautiful? Was she sort of - how shall I say it - ghostly?"
"Yes, quite ghostly. She came and went, just like that. A vision, a light which appeared and ... Beautiful? " Sandra pulled her robe about her and pouted. "Yes, I guess you'd say she was beautiful."
They stared in silence at each other, Sandra wanting desperately to be held tightly, safely in his arms.
"I've been frightened," Sandra moaned. "For days I've not seen any living creature except for black creatures in the sky. I had assumed ... I just thought ... a dream, this was all just a dream. But now I know. I'm stuck here, wherever here is. I'm so glad you're here, too."
She looked up at Gordon Chaplain and he drew her near and caressed her cheeks wet with tears and whispered gently. "It's okay. We'll find our way back. I have an idea." He raised his arm and pointed toward the far shore where rose the Mountains of Mune. "See those mountains? We've got to get to them and talk to, well, to somebody who lives there, I think."
Sandra gazed through watery eyes, holding tightly to his chest, and asked: "Who lives there?"
Gordon paused only for a moment before answering. "The King of Light."
Gordon lifted himself from the water where he had kicked for hours, pushing the craft before him. Night had fallen, black and silent, and now they rested from their efforts to steer the small raft toward the shore at the base of the mountains. A cool wind swept across the raft and Gordon shivered and Sandra held him close and he felt the warmth of her body and together they lay, in each others arms, and Gordon felt the rush of blood, of passion, and he kissed her gently and Sandra kissed him eagerly for she had been long alone and afraid. With one quick motion she drew her robe aside and pulled his body to her breast, panting, sobbing. Gordon held back but she eagerly followed, and he fell backward upon the raft and she ripped the shirt from his chest and fell enthusiastically upon him, kissing his neck, caressing his thighs, running her hand eagerly across his throbbing organ, and they moaned in the delight of their bodies ... and the raft rolled violently in the cool blue-green waters of the Chalma Sea.
When the first bright lines of light rose from beyond the distant shore and the sky turned to gold, Gordon awoke to find Sandra clinging to him, yet asleep. He gazed onto her face until her eyes opened and she blushed a hue of rose that lit her cheek and she buried her head in his chest.
"I'm not that kind of girl, you know. It's just that I've had such a dream before and I always wake up, right away and ..."
He placed his finger across her lips and whispered. "I know, I understand. Yet, it was right. Didn't you think it was right?"
She did not speak, but smiled and raised her head and kissed him gently in affirmation, pulling her robe about her as though to hide her shame. Gordon fell slowly to her side so that they lay together, holding each other, breathing heavily and, with a single mind, they made love once more in the still sweet hours of the dawn.
It was Sandra who first saw the dark line form above the cliffs, like black trees rising slowly from the rim, from horizon to horizon. She pointed and Gordon pulled himself from the water and stared.
"Jesus! I think they're Beasts of Filope, gathering before the Dark Lord, getting ready for, for -"
Sandra looked terrified. "Beasts? Dark Lord? What do you mean? Getting ready for what?"
Gordon turned his head slowly and saw the terror in her eyes and began, quietly, explaining the intent of the leader of the dragons of Monash to invade the world of Man. He held her closely as he spoke and did not see the horde rise up from the cliffs and stream across the Chalma Sea toward them, as a cloud of black smoke rising from the fires of hell.
"Look! They're coming toward us!" Sandra cried.
Gordon looked at the approaching horde, then toward the distant shore. "We'll never make it to the shore in time. But we've got to try."
He slipped again into the water and began to kick fiercely, and Sandra slipped into the water beside him and the small raft leaped forward.
The Beasts of Filope were overhead when the raft crashed upon the rocks just offshore and Gordon and Sandra swam and a harsh cry rose above them and the first black brute descended, its dark shadow cast before the two. Without need for words they dove and the beast cried out and rose once more to the horde which waited, screeching. When the two bodies rose again, gasping to the surface, a beast fell upon them, its talons extended, its red maw luminescent in the morning light, but the two bodies vanished once more beneath the cool waters of the Sea of Chalma and the beast screamed in anger.
When Gordon rose for breath he was standing in shallow water and he pulled Sandra to her feet by his side and together they raced to the shore, but the shore was lined with beasts by the score, crying out, screaming with rage. The two stopped, looked back. The raft was gone. The sky was black with creatures. They fell to their knees, exhausted. There was no escape.
Then came the hum of distant thunder, a rumble that shook the ground, and bright flashes rose jagged from the mountain before them and descended to the shore and they could hear the cries of anguish and smell the burning as the beasts rose shrieking from the beach.
In minutes it was over. Several dead and charred bodies lined the shore and the black horde retreated before the rippling light which rose from the mountain and Gordon and Sandra climbed wearily upon the warm sand and rested.
"I think your friend, in the mountain, came to our rescue," said Sandra.
"He's not exactly my friend, but you may be right about his rescuing us. Anyway, I think we should climb to the top and thank him, don't you?"
Gordon smiled, a weak and tired smile, but Sandra laughed loudly and flung herself upon him and they fell upon the sand and laughed, a laugh of relief, of pain, of love and understanding and a bond that would not easily be broken.
"First things first," whispered Sandra. "Our words of appreciation, to your friend in the mountain, they can come later. But first, the beautiful and brave Sandra Brickle will delight and enchant you with her abundant talents." Her robe fell to the sand. "Abundant, yes?"
She began feverishly to unbutton his shirt and Gordon closed his eyes. Would she never be satisfied? Was it Sharlain that evoked this passion? Would he survive it? He smiled and fell backward upon the sand and Sandra kissed him violently.
He managed to whisper: "You said you weren't that kind of girl." But Sa
ndra was not listening. Neither saw the wispy shape that rose from the sands. The Ghost of Chalma stood for only a moment, then vanished again leaving only a smile upon the sand.
*****
Eba-evin stood on the edge of the cliff and gazed out over the Sea of Chalma and Daniel of Woller stood by his side, silent. Then the great dragon roared and rose into the air and the horde cried out behind him and he turned and shouted.
"The time has come! We have the World of Sharlain, now we will have the World of Man!"
From the edge of the cliff to beyond the rising peak of the Abyss, the black armies of the Dark Lord shouted their approval: Beasts of Filope, dragons of Monash, armies of Woller and the fierce Ardens of Wilo-ard. Eba-evin rose and circled the black horde, nostrils aflame, dark wings beating. From the depths of the Abyss came a roar and the fires of hell erupted and the ground shook and Eba-evin soared to beyond his armies and they followed and he lead them to battle. Half the horde rose into the air on beating wings, and the warriors of Woller and of Wilo-ard began their march.
Beside Daniel of Woller stood his queen, Katherine of Woller.
"He goes to engage the armies of the other world, by the Mountain of the Golden Tower," he said quietly, without emotion.
"And ignores the anger of the Mune. Foolish," answered Katherine.
"Perhaps the light from the mountain was not of the King. Perhaps -"
"Fool! Ten beasts have died from this light, these bolts flung with anger from the mountain. Eba-evin ignores the King. That is folly."
Daniel was about to speak but Katherine marched to the edge of the cliff and looked across the Sea of Chalma, myriad points of light glinting from its surface, the distant horizon clothed in dark mountains still glowing from the battle with the beasts. Then she swung about and marched resolutely down the hill toward the waiting army of Woller.
The amber sky faded to starless black and the long shadows enveloped the land and the armies of the Dark Lord halted their march, the flying creatures nesting restlessly on the slopes of a rocky hill, the Ardens sitting about fires flickering in the night.
Daniel sat on a ledge overlooking the darkened plain, a small fire burning by his side. As far as he could see there were small fires and a curious murmur as the armies of the Prince of Darkness bedded down. When he saw Eba-evin approach he jumped to his feet and bowed, only slightly. Daniel was, after all, a Prince of the Kingdom of Woller and commanded respect, but Eba gave none for he neither feared nor respected any man or beast.
"At the first ray of light I shall guide my armies through a Door," said Eba with a flourish of his wings, shaking his head, thin tendrils of flame whispering from his nostrils. "We shall arrive in Dragomir and destroy the forces of Man before the day has ended." He threw back his great head and roared with laughter and the Ardens nearest him drew back in fear and the roar carried to the farthest fires and all that heard shivered.
"But the King of Light, do you not fear his wrath?" asked Daniel.
Eba leaped into the air and screamed in anger.
"I am the Prince of Darkness and I am the King of Light! I fear no thing!"
"But, the light from the Mountain. They killed -"
"Silence! When I have destroyed the armies of Man I will level the Mountains of Mune, for I will be Lord over all worlds and no false God will stand in my way! The old Age has ended and a new Age begins!"
Daniel was about to speak once more, but Eba was angry and Daniel hesitated and lowered his head to appease the Dark Lord and the great dragon hovered for a moment then dropped to his side.
"Daniel of Woller," spoke the dragon of Monash. "When the morrow ends and we are victorious on the plains of Dragomir, you will guide my armies through a Door of Monash and take the lands of Man for none can withstand the -"
"Foolishness!" came a voice from the dark.
The dragon commander of Monash, the Dark Lord, Eba-evin spun about, his wings rising to his sides, his neck coiled, his nostrils flaring. "Who speaks such to the Prince of the World?"
A slim figure approached and it was Katherine of Woller and she was beautiful in the flickering light of the fire.
"You have angered our God, Mune, the creator of Sharlain, and he will not abide your -" began Katherine.
"There is no God but Eba-evin!" shouted the great dragon and he cried out: Borgo-nom achewan. No-nopawno agerwan and vanished.
"Katherine, you must not anger Eba-evin," whispered Daniel, "for he will surely remember your harsh words."
"Daniel, we have lived in the world of Man and know their strength. Eba cannot defeat them." She paused, then continued in a whisper. "Perhaps he will win a battle against the army which has entered Sharlain, but he will not win against all the forces of Man."
Daniel dropped to the ground and sat with his head hung low, his hands clasped about his knees. He spoke: "Yes, you are right in this. But he will not listen. And Woller? What will become of the Kingdom of Woller?" He looked up at Katherine, a dark frown on his face, his eyes appealing. He looked so small, insignificant, this Prince, and Katherine went to him and sat by his side and caressed him.
"Daniel, Prince of Woller, you know what we must do." Daniel nodded and she spoke again. "We have spoken often of this. We must return to the world of Man, there to live out our lives, far from the anger of Eba-evin, far from the vagaries of Sharlain. Our life there was good. It can be good once more."
She stroked his head and Daniel closed his eyes and wept.
*****
Clayton Chaplain stared with dismay at Choo-lan. The tall Arden was stripped to the waist and now knelt by the door, mumbling and raising his hands to stroke his head, his hair as green as the forest that encircled the clearing. Then his captor leapt to his feet and turned to face Clayton.
"I must go now, for Eba gathers the armies of Wilo-ard and I must lead my warriors to battle."
"And me? Wh-what do you intend to do wi-with me?" stuttered Clayton, still staring at the figure silhouetted against the early light of day streaming through the door. For three days, Sharlain days, had Clayton lain on the straw mats, eating of the yellow fruit and green shoots and gray tubers which had daily been placed before him. Gloria had been taken to Eba-evin by a dragon of Monash, leaving him alone with Choo-lan, leader of the warriors of Arden. For the last day there had been much commotion, groups of Ardens had gathered, brandishing their long spears and shouting and then, one by one, the groups had left. Now few remained and those few were gathered just beyond the rim of the clearing. They too would leave and he would be left to die. Was that his fate? He waited for Choo-lan, the most big of all Ardens, to speak.
"Choo-lai will feed you. When the battle is won I will return. Then Eba will decide."
Clayton watched as the tall Arden turned and left, walking quickly to the head of his warriors then beyond and they followed and soon only the whisper of the wind spoke of his solitude deep within the forest at the foot of the Mountains of Mune. Clayton sighed and slumped and closed his eyes. When the battle is won. What battle? Choo-lai? Who was he, or it? Where was Gloria? Gordon? He had slept little and his questions sapped his strength and he fell asleep, prone on the straw, his feet still tied to the post, his hands bound, and he dreamed of the world of Man, far from Sharlain.
Clayton Chaplain awoke to the sweet voice of a slim Arden kneeling by his side, stroking his forehead. Collawna-poi, thio chero she whispered, and she held out the yellow fruit so that he might eat from her hand. He struggled to an upright position and found that his hands had been freed. He gazed in wonder at the beautiful girl before him. She blushed, her eyes lowered, her slim body wrapped in a light green film, her long hair shimmering green. Clayton gulped once, then leaned forward and ate from the fruit in her hand and the young girl blushed once more for his hands were free and he could take the fruit into his own hand, but he did not. Clayton continued to gaze, eating from her hand until the fruit was nearly gone, then he took her hand and opened it
and ate from her palm the last of the yellow fruit and she held her head lowered, a pink blush still upon her cheek as he kissed her hand, licked the sweet juices, taking her fingers one by one into his mouth.
"Oh God, you're beautiful," he managed to say at last. "I mean, uh, I think you're a lovely girl." Clayton, holding his breath, now let it out in a low sigh. "Who are you?"
"I am Choo-lai, and I am your servant," whispered the young girl, her head still lowered, her blue eyes gazing intently up at Clayton.
"My servant? You mean, you mean you'll do as I ask?" Choo-lai nodded. "Then can you loosen these ropes that tie my feet?" Clayton shook his head and frowned. "That's stupid, sorry, I can do it myself." He looked at his freed hands, then at the vines that bound his feet to the post and began to untie the binding. Choo-lai coughed slightly and Clayton stopped and saw that she held a short knife and he shivered, but she handed him the knife and he took it and cut the cords and jumped unsteadily to his feet. Choo-lai backed away and Clayton ran to the door and saw that the clearing was empty but for a few old female Ardens gathering wood. He was about to run, then turned and looked back at Choo-lai, sitting still upon the straw in the small hut, and he went to her and offered his hand and raised her to her feet.
"Why did you free me? Won't Choo-lan be angry? When he returns, won't you be in trouble?"
The young girl blushed and spoke softly. "I have watched you, tied like an animal, while my keeper took the food I brought for your use and placed it before you. I watched as you ate. I watched as you slept." She paused, looked frightened, continued. "The battle is against your people and you must warn them before the armies of the Prince of Darkness destroy them."
Clayton looked down upon the young girl, her filmy gown clinging to her slim body, her eyes now opening to his. He began to speak, but could say nothing.
"You must go, quickly," she urged.
"Where? And what will happen to you?"
"To the Mountain of the Golden Tower," she whispered, then lowered her eyes.
"And you?" asked Clayton, concern evident in his voice, his hand reaching out and stroking the shining green tresses.