Castle for Rent

Sixteen Keep — Near the South Tower

“This looks promising,” Gene said as he peered across the threshold of an attractive aspect. There was sunshine out there, and green grass, some trees, and a small pond. It looked like the grazing meadow of a small farm,sans cattle. He sniffed the air and could have sworn he smelted fresh-cut hay. But there were no buildings visible, and something told him this was not an inhabited aspect.

“Trouble is,” he added, “it’ll look just as inviting to the Bluefaces.”

Linda said, “Maybe we’ll be safe if we get far enough away from the portal.”

“But we don’t want to get too far away from the castle. We might not be able to make it back.”

“True. But we haven’t found a better aspect so far. Aren’t those apple trees over there?”

“Maybe,” Gene said. “Looks like the wrong season for apples, though. I vote no. Anyone disagree?”

No one did. Gene and Linda walked away from the portal, Snowclaw and Sheila following.

“At least we haven’t seen Bluefaces for a good while,” Sheila commented.

“Damn, I wish I knew what I was looking for,” Gene said, preoccupied with his thoughts.

“What would you be looking for,” Linda asked, “if you knew what you were looking for?”

“An aspect that could turn up some kind of fancy, high-tech weapon that would be effective against the Bluefaces.”

“The way I understand it,” Sheila said, “technology doesn’t work in the castle.”

“Depends on what you mean by technology,” Gene said. “I’ve heard tell of aspects where it’s pretty hard to tell magic from technology. Maybe something from one of those worlds would do the trick.”

“Everybody keeps saying that there are some pretty weird aspects,” Linda said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Fat chance,” Gene said glumly. “I think we’re sunk. We’ve lost the castle.”

“It wasn’t ours to begin with,” Linda said.

“No, but it was the only home we had.”

Sheila said, “My usual luck. I just start getting used to the place, and we get chased out. Thing is, I can’t decide whether it’s any great loss.”

“The castle’s a mixed blessing, Sheila,” Gene said. “But it’s given me one thing I lacked back in the real world. Adventure. Real, heart-pounding, thrill-a-minute, no-holds-barred adventure. They don’t make that in the mundane world. They just make boredom, periodically relieved by stark terror.”

Another aperture appeared suddenly in the wall ahead, this one revealing a scene of dense jungle. Gene halted in his tracks and put out an arm to hold his companions back.

“Wait a minute. This looks like trouble.”

They stood and watched. Birdcalls echoed in the treetops, the undergrowth rustled here and fidgeted there, and tropical sun streamed green and gold through the high jungle canopy. But not much else happened.

“What were you saying about heart-pounding adventure?” Linda asked.

“Yeah … well.” Gene pushed his broadsword back into its scabbard. “We’re really getting the proverbial horns of the dilemma right in the butt. If we hide out in one of these wild aspects, we’ll be safe from the Bluefaces, all right. But you can bet the damn thing’ll close up and leave us stranded.”

“Great choice,” Linda said. “Die in some weird place, or stay here and get taken prisoner.” She gave a tiny shudder. “If they take prisoners. I wonder if they think humans are good to eat.”

Snowclaw said, “I’ve often wondered myself.”

The great white beast’s hairless companions regarded him gravely.

Abstractedly Snowclaw stroked the blade of the huge longsword that Linda had conjured for him. Then he flashed his teeth, chuckling impishly. “Just kidding, friends.”

“Maybe we’ll just have to take the chance and hole up in one of these,” Sheila said, pointing toward the jungle.

“It’s a thought,” Gene said. “But not this one. We need one with some signs of civilization.”

“That, I think, is going to be hard,” Linda said. “Did you ever notice that most aspects are either uninhabited, deserted, or, if they do have civilization, it’s primitive?”

Gene thought about it. “Yeah, now that you mention it. I’ve seen some strange things, briefly glimpsed through aspects here and there. But for the most part, you’re right. If the aspect is easily accessible, there’s usually nothing there except picture-postcard stuff. Pretty, but of no use. There must be a reason for it.”

“Just think if the portal to Earth were, say, in the middle of New York City.”

“Right, this castle would be co-op apartments by now. Maybe that’s the reason that portals to worlds with advanced civilizations are so rare. Maybe the castle was designed that way in order to protect it from invasion from within, so to speak.”

“Makes sense,” Linda said.

“Come on, let’s get going.”

They moved away from the jungle aspect. Farther down the corridor they passed two large empty halls, one at either hand.

Gene thought awhile, then said, “Yeah, it makes sense. But what happened with the Bluefaces? Did the castle’s defenses — whatever they are — break down? Or does this kind of thing happen periodically?”

“If this place is as old as they say it is,” Linda said, “it would have been invaded long ago.”

Gene shrugged. “Maybe it was. Maybe Lord Incarnadine is an invader himself.”

“Haven’t you ever talked to any of the servants? They all say —”

“Yeah, I know. They all say Incarnadine’s been lord of Perilous for hundreds of years. And before that his dad was lord for a thousand years. I know — I’m just throwing hypotheses against the wall and seeing if any of ’em leave a stain.” He ruminated for a few more paces. “Thing is, I have seen cities and high-tech-looking stuff through a few of the floating aspects, most of which look mighty hard to cross.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t figure it out.”

“Halt!”

They had just begun to cross through an intersecting tunnel. Swords already drawn, four Bluefaces were double-timing down the left branch, breaking into a charge when Gene and his companions came into view.

“Run!” Gene yelled, turning Sheila around and shoving her back down the corridor. Linda and Snowclaw needed no prompting. They ran, passing the two empty halls and the jungle aspect, but before they reached the crossing passageway ahead, three more Bluefaces turned the corner, snarling and waving swords.

Linda skidded to a stop. She had less than five seconds to arrive at a magical solution to the problem. She fought an urge to panic and closed her eyes, hoping the decision she made would be the right one.

Snowclaw turned to fight the first group of Bluefaces and Gene raced to meet the threesome. Snowy’s first victory was swift. His left hand struck like the head of a snake, tearing out the throat of the leader. He neatly sidestepped the falling body to bring his longsword to bear on the second creature.

Sheila backed against the wall and squatted, hands covering her head, mind gone numb with fear. Peeking between fingers, she saw Gene clash swords with two Bluefaces as a third maneuvered for position in the narrow hallway. Gene held his own for a spell, but three-on-one proved too much even for Gene’s expert swordcraft. He backstepped, fending off all three now, parrying and riposting, his blade a silver blur. Snowy was similarly boxed in, his three opponents giving him a hard time.

Then something strange happened. Sheila blinked her eyes and looked again. Either she was seeing triple, or there were three Genes. And Snowclaw seemed to have suddenly acquired two comrades-in-arms who looked exactly like him.

With a helpless groan, Sheila covered her eyes again as the whang and clank of swordplay filled the corridor. When she looked again, the situation was even more confused. Now there were more Bluefaces, and still more duplicates of Gene and Snowclaw.

“A duel between us, sorceress!” one Blueface called out. He was standing back from the melee, and appeared to be speaking to Linda, who stood calmly in the middle of things.

“You got it, Blueface!” Linda answered. She stuck her tongue out.

From that point on, things got very bizarre indeed. The number of combatants seemed to increase every few seconds. In a short time the passageway became the scene of an armed engagement of major proportions, spilling over into the great rooms on either side. New sorts of combatants appeared: knights in armor, Roman legionnaires, and Greek hoplites crossed swords with an outrageous assortment of monsters. Tentacles snaked, talons raked, and claws tore, all to the tune of singing steel. The noise was deafening. Sheila dove to the floor and flattened herself against the wall. When someone or something stepped on her ankle, she gave a yelp and crawled off.

Someone grabbed her arm and yanked her halfway up. It was Gene.

“Get to the aspect and jump through!” he yelled. “And keep down!” He let her go.

Sheila crawled, keeping her head down but watching out for stamping feet and other, stranger extremities. She was kicked once in the leg, then took the heel of a boot in her ribs. She doubled up with pain; and then got her foot mashed. Whimpering, she rose to a crouch and hobbled away. She stumbled, fell, and got up again.

Someone seized her wrist and spun her around. It was a Blueface, sword raised and ready to strike. Sheila stood transfixed, hypnotized by the gleaming blade above her. She had never really considered what it would be like to be struck by a sword. The blade was huge and looked wickedly sharp, sharper than the Japanese knife in those ubiquitous TV commercials where the guy cuts a beer can open and then dices an avocado. She was now up against the awful prospect, the impending reality, of having that blade slice through her flesh. The amazing thing was that she couldn’t scream. She simply stood there in this frozen instant, acutely conscious of her fate, almost dispassionately wondering if there would be much pain.

She never got the opportunity to find out. Another blade flashed round from behind and took the creature’s head clean off, leaving its neck a pulsing fountain of purple blood. Almost in slow motion, the body dropped at her feet. Snowclaw — which one? — grabbed her arm and shoved her in the direction of the portal.

“Move, Sheila!”

She ran, but more fighting blocked her way. She cut to the right, sidestepped left, then stooped and ducked between the legs of a strange giant creature covered in yellow feathers. The incongruous thought of Sesame Street’s Big Bird came to her, unbidden, as she caught sight of an opening and sprinted for the portal.

She tripped over something and fell. A man in tunic and crested bronze helmet helped her to her feet, then saluted with his sword, turned, and rejoined the fighting. Sheila looked down at the body she had tripped over.

It was Gene, and he was dead, his skull split open and a huge gash in his neck. Sheila screamed and kept screaming.

Someone took her arm and shook her violently.

It was Gene. “Let’s go!”

Dumbfounded, she swung her gaze back and forth between Gene’s twin bodies, living and dead.

“Forget it!” he said. “Come on!”

As she was being dragged down the corridor, she couldn’t take her eyes off Gene’s paradoxical dead body. But she soon lost sight of it as the battle closed in around her. The next few seconds were lost to complete disorientation. Then there was light and a sudden wave of heat — it was like running out of an air-conditioned building on a blistering-hot day. The castle was gone and she was outside, in the middle of a humid and fragrant rain forest. The portal was an upright rectangle, like an odd movie screen, standing in the undergrowth, and through it she could see inside the castle. The fighting raged on.

“Run! Hide!”

Gene was shaking her, yelling into her ear.

“Get lost! Run!”

She was about to ask about Linda when she was rendered speechless by the sight of Gene’s form suddenly growing blurred and indistinct. Then he disappeared altogether, and she was left standing alone. Astonished, she whirled around, again and again, her bewildered eyes searching frantically for any sight of him.

But he was gone. He had simply vanished.

He reappeared just as quickly. He and Linda came through the gateway at a run.

But before Sheila could register shock, they disappeared as inexplicably as the first Gene had done.

They were followed by Snowclaw, who also vanished without fanfare and without a trace. Two more of Snowclaw’s doppelgangers repeated the trick, each blinking out of existence shortly after crossing the threshold.

Then another Gene-and-Linda set came through. This one did not disappear.

“Here she is!” Gene yelled as he ran by. “Let’s go, Sheila!”

He grabbed Sheila’s arm and dragged her along. Sheila tripped, staggered, then found her footing. Gene let go of her arm and she ran after them.

Eventually they pulled ahead and she lost them in the sea of vegetation. She dashed on through the thick undergrowth, leafy tentacles grabbing at her feet, overhanging vines whipping at her face and snagging her clothing. She stopped and looked wildly about. Someone grabbed her sleeve and yanked her down.

It was Gene, crouched with Linda behind some bushes.

“Shhh!”

Sheila peered back at the portal. As she watched, several Bluefaces crossed over and promptly dematerialized. Then Snowclaw came running through. Apparently he was the genuine article. He stayed hugely real.

Gene jumped up and waved at him, whistling.

Snowclaw caught sight of Gene and started forward. A Blueface came charging out of the portal, saw Snowclaw, and jumped him from behind. Snowclaw rolled to the ground to avoid a wicked slash, and in so doing, shot out a foot to trip the creature up. The Blueface went down. There was a brief scuffle on the ground, then both creatures sprang to their feet, swords flashing in the tropical sunlight.

By the time Gene got there to help, the Blueface lay on the ground, wanting the top half of its skull. Gene led Snowy back to the hiding spot.

The foursome watched the portal for five full minutes. No one else came out. All was quiet.

“Maybe that last one was the only survivor,” Gene said. “The only real one, that is.” He found a tree trunk and leaned against it. “How are you guys?”

Linda said, “I wasn’t in much danger. That Blueface was a strong magician, though. If we hadn’t ducked out, I don’t know.” She shook her head ruefully.

“Sheila?”

Horror-struck, she was staring at Gene. “Gene, I … I saw you. You were —”

“Yeah, I know. It was pretty interesting.”

Sheila’s mouth hung open. She worked her jaws, trying to form words in reply.

Gene shrugged. “Well, philosophically speaking —”

Sheila burst into tears, and presently she found that Gene was holding her. She hugged him, pressing her face against the braided leather of his breastplate.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Gene was saying, but she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

“Oh, no!”

Blinking back tears, Sheila looked at Linda.

Linda’s face was ashen. “The portal’s gone,” she said.