The Eyes of the Overworld (2 page)

Cugel strode down a sweep of circular stairs into a great hall. He stood enthralled, paying Iucounu the tribute of unstinted wonder. But his time was limited; he must rob swiftly and be on his way. Out came his sack; he roved the hall, fastidiously selecting those objects of small bulk and great value: a small pot with antlers, which emitted clouds of remarkable gases when the prongs were tweaked; an ivory horn through which sounded voices from the past; a small stage where costumed imps stood ready to perform comic antics; an object like a cluster of crystal grapes, each affording a blurred view into one of the demon-worlds; a baton sprouting sweetmeats of assorted flavor; an ancient ring engraved with runes; a black stone surrounded by nine zones of impalpable color. He passed by hundreds of jars of powders and liquids, likewise forbore from the vessels containing preserved heads. Now he came to shelves stacked with volumes, folios and librams, where he selected with care, taking for preference those bound in purple velvet, Phandaal's characteristic color. He likewise selected folios of drawings and ancient maps, and the disturbed leather exuded a musty odor.

He circled back to the front of the hall past a case displaying a score of small metal chests, sealed with corroded bands of great age. Cugel selected three at random; they were unwontedly heavy. He passed by several massive engines whose purpose he would have liked to explore, but time was advancing, and best he should be on his way, back to Azenomei and the booth of Fianosther …

Cugel frowned. In many respects the prospect seemed impractical. Fianosther would hardly choose to pay full value for his goods, or, more accurately, Iucounu's goods. It might be well to bury a certain proportion of the loot in an isolated place … Here was an alcove Cugel had not previously noted. A soft light welled like water against the crystal pane, which separated alcove from hall. A niche to the rear displayed a complicated object of great charm. As best Cugel could distinguish, it seemed a miniature carousel on which rode a dozen beautiful dolls of seeming vitality. The object was clearly of great value, and Cugel was pleased to find an aperture in the crystal pane. He stepped through, but two feet before him a second pane blocked his way, establishing an avenue which evidently led to the magic whirligig. Cugel proceeded confidently, only to be stopped by another pane which he had not seen until he bumped into it. Cugel retraced his steps and to his gratification found the doubtlessly correct entrance a few feet back. But this new avenue led him by several right angles to another blank pane. Cugel decided to forego acquisition of the carousel and depart the castle. He turned, but discovered himself to be a trifle confused. He had come from his left — or was it his right? … Cugel was still seeking egress when in due course Iucounu returned to his manse.

Pausing by the alcove Iucounu gave Cugel a stare of humorous astonishment. “What have we here? A visitor? And I have been so remiss as to keep you waiting! Still, I see you have amused yourself, and I need feel no mortification.” Iucounu permitted a chuckle to escape his lips. He then pretended to notice Cugel's bag. “What is this? You have brought objects for my examination? Excellent! I am always anxious to enhance my collection, in order to keep pace with the attrition of the years. You would be astounded to learn of the rogues who seek to despoil me! That merchant of clap-trap in his tawdry little booth, for instance — you could not conceive his frantic efforts in this regard! I tolerate him because to date he has not been bold enough to venture himself into my manse. But come, step out here into the hall, and we will examine the contents of your bag.”

Cugel bowed graciously. “Gladly. As you assume, I have indeed been waiting for your return. If I recall correctly, the exit is by this passage …” He stepped forward, but again was halted. He made a gesture of rueful amusement. “I seem to have taken a wrong turning.”

“Apparently so,” said Iucounu. “Glancing upward, you will notice a decorative motif upon the ceiling. If you heed the flexion of the lunules you will be guided to the hall.”

“Of course!” And Cugel briskly stepped forward in accordance with the directions.

“One moment!” called Iucounu. “You have forgotten your sack!”

Cugel reluctantly returned for the sack, once more set forth, and presently emerged into the hall.

Iucounu made a suave gesture. “If you will step this way I will be glad to examine your merchandise.”

Cugel glanced reflectively along the corridor toward the front entrance. “It would be a presumption upon your patience. My little knick-knacks are below notice. With your permission I will take my leave.”

“By no means!” declared Iucounu heartily. “I have few visitors, most of whom are rogues and thieves. I handle them severely, I assure you! I insist that you at least take some refreshment. Place your bag on the floor.”

Cugel carefully set down the bag. “Recently I was instructed in a small competence by a sea-hag of White Alster. I believe you will be interested. I require several ells of stout cord.”

“You excite my curiosity!” Iucounu extended his arm; a panel in the wainscoting slid back; a coil of rope was tossed to his hand. Rubbing his face as if to conceal a smile, Iucounu handed the rope to Cugel who shook it out with great care. “I will ask your cooperation,” said Cugel. “A small matter of extending one arm and one leg.”

“Yes, of course.” Iucounu held out his hand, pointed a finger. The rope coiled around Cugel's arms and legs, pinning him so that he was unable to move. Iucounu's grin nearly split his great soft head. “This is a surprising development! By error I called forth Thief-taker! For your own comfort, do not strain, as Thief-taker is woven of wasp-legs. Now then, I will examine the contents of your bag.” He peered into Cugel's sack and emitted a soft cry of dismay. “You have rifled my collection! I note certain of my most treasured valuables!”

Cugel grimaced. “Naturally! But I am no thief; Fianosther sent me here to collect certain objects, and therefore —”

Iucounu held up his hand. “The offense is far too serious for flippant disclaimers. I have stated my abhorrence for plunderers and thieves, and now I must visit upon you justice in its most unmitigated rigor — unless, of course, you can suggest an adequate requital.”

“Some such requital surely exists,” Cugel averred. “This cord however rasps upon my skin, so that I find cogitation impossible.”

“No matter. I have decided to apply the Charm of Forlorn Encystment, which constricts the subject in a pore some forty-five miles below the surface of the earth.”

Cugel blinked in dismay. “Under these conditions, requital could never be made.”

“True,” mused Iucounu. “I wonder if after all there is some small service which you can perform for me.”

“The villain is as good as dead!” declared Cugel. “Now remove these abominable bonds!”

“I had no specific assassination in mind,” said Iucounu. “Come.”

The rope relaxed, allowing Cugel to hobble after Iucounu into a side chamber hung with intricately embroidered tapestry. From a cabinet Iucounu brought a small case and laid it on a floating disk of glass. He opened the case, gestured to Cugel, who perceived that the box showed two indentations lined with scarlet fur, where reposed a single small hemisphere of filmed violet glass.

“As a knowledgeable and traveled man,” suggested Iucounu, “you doubtless recognize this object. No? You are familiar, of course, with the Cutz Wars of the Eighteenth Aeon? No?” Iucounu hunched up his shoulders in astonishment. “During these ferocious events the demon Unda-Hrada — he is listed as 16-04 Green in Thrump's Almanac — thought to assist his principals, and to this end thrust certain agencies up from the sub-world La-Er. In order that they might perceive, they were tipped with cusps similar to the one you see before you. When events went amiss, the demon snatched himself back to La-Er. The hemispheres were dislodged and broadcast across Cutz. One of these, as you see, I own. You must procure its mate and bring it to me, whereupon your trespass shall be overlooked.”

Cugel reflected. “The choice, if it lies between a sortie into the demon-world La-Er and the Spell of Forlorn Encystment, is moot. Frankly, I am at a loss for decision.”

Iucounu's laugh almost split the big yellow bladder of his head. “A visit to La-Er perhaps will prove unnecessary. You may secure the article in that land once known as Cutz.”

“If I must, I must,” growled Cugel, thoroughly displeased by the manner in which the day's work had ended. “Who guards this violet hemisphere? What is its function? How do I go and how return? What necessary weapons, talismans and other magical adjuncts do you undertake to fit me out with?”

“All in good time,” said Iucounu. “First I must ensure that, once at liberty, you conduct yourself with unremitting loyalty, zeal and singleness of purpose.”

“Have no fear,” declared Cugel, “my word is my bond.”

“Excellent!” cried Iucounu. “This knowledge represents a basic security which I do not in the least take lightly. The act now to be performed is doubtless supererogatory.”

He departed the chamber and after a moment returned with a covered glass bowl containing a small white creature, all claws, prongs, barbs and hooks, now squirming angrily. “This,” said Iucounu, “is my friend Firx, from the star Achernar, who is far wiser than he seems. Firx is annoyed at being separated from his comrade with whom he shares a vat in my workroom. He will assist you in the expeditious discharge of your duties.” Iucounu stepped close, deftly thrust the creature against Cugel's abdomen. It merged into his viscera, took up a vigilant post clasped around Cugel's liver.

Iucounu stood back, laughing in that immoderate glee which had earned him his cognomen. Cugel's eyes bulged from his head. He opened his mouth to utter an objurgation, but instead clenched his jaw, rolled up his eyes.

The rope uncoiled itself. Cugel stood quivering, every muscle knotted.

Iucounu's mirth dwindled to a thoughtful grin. “You spoke of magical adjuncts. What of those talismans whose efficacy you proclaimed from your booth in Azenomei? Will they not immobilize enemies, dissolve iron, impassion virgins, confer immortality?”

“These talismans are not uniformly dependable,” said Cugel. “I will require further competences.”

“You have them,” said Iucounu, “in your sword, your crafty persuasiveness and the agility of your feet. Still, you have aroused my concern and I will help you to this extent.” He hung a small square tablet about Cugel's neck. “You now may put aside all fear of starvation. A touch of this potent object will induce nutriment into wood, bark, grass, even discarded clothing. It will also sound a chime in the presence of poison. So now — there is nothing to delay us! Come, we will go. Rope? Where is Rope?”

Obediently the rope looped around Cugel's neck, and Cugel was forced to march along behind Iucounu.

They came out upon the roof of the antique castle. Darkness had long since fallen over the land. Up and down the valley of the Xzan glimmered faint lights, while the Xzan itself was an irregular width darker than dark.

Iucounu pointed to a cage. “This will be your conveyance. Inside.”

Cugel hesitated. “It might be preferable to dine well, to sleep and rest, to set forth tomorrow refreshed.”

“What?” spoke Iucounu in a voice like a horn. “You dare stand before me and state preferences? You, who came skulking into my house, pillaged my valuables and left all in disarray? Do you understand your luck? Perhaps you prefer the Forlorn Encystment?”

“By no means!” protested Cugel nervously. “I am anxious only for the success of the venture!”

“Into the cage then.”

Cugel turned despairing eyes around the castle roof, slowly went to the cage and stepped within.

“I trust you suffer no deficiency of memory,” said Iucounu. “But even if this becomes the case, and if you neglect your prime responsibility, which is to say, the procuring of the violet cusp, Firx is on hand to remind you.”

Cugel said, “Since I am now committed to this enterprise, and unlikely to return, you may care to learn my appraisal of yourself and your character. In the first place —”

But Iucounu held up his hand. “I do not care to listen; obloquy injures my self-esteem and I am skeptical of praise. So now — be off!” He drew back, stared up into the darkness, then shouted that invocation known as Thasdrubal's Laganetic Transfer. From high came a thud and a buffet, a muffled bellow of rage.

Iucounu retreated a few steps, shouted up words in an archaic language; and the cage with Cugel crouching within was snatched aloft and hurled through the air.

Cold wind bit Cugel's face. The cage swung back and forth. From above came a flapping and creaking of vast wings and dismal lamentation. Below all was dark, a blackness like a pit. By the disposition of the stars Cugel perceived that the course was to the north, and presently he sensed the thrust of the Maurenron Mountains below; and then they flew over that wilderness known as the Land of the Falling Wall. Once or twice Cugel glimpsed the lights of an isolated castle, and once he noted a great bonfire. For a period a winged sprite came to flap alongside the cage and peer within. It seemed to find Cugel's plight amusing, and when Cugel sought information as to the land below, it merely uttered raucous cries of mirth. It became fatigued and sought to cling to the cage, but Cugel kicked it away, and it fell off into the wind with a scream of envy.