After only a few dozen more paces, the passage turned sharply and opened into a large and beautiful cavern. The four of them arrived at the entranceway at virtually the same time, and at that instant a woman’s voice boomed out.
“Welcome, strangers!” The speaker was standing in the center of the oval place, arms spread wide in greeting. “Since my little tricks failed to dissuade you, I have no choice but to surrender myself to your mercies, trusting that you will not slay or abuse me!”
This statement seemed preposterous to Gord, for the glowing, blue horror which towered before them appeared capable of rending the huge cave bear to bits. Further, he could not understand why this gruesome monster spoke with a female voice through its lipless, fanged mouth. Perhaps this was an irony of condition, for never before had he seen anything so foully evil, ugly, and terrible. The dulcet voice made the horror of this demon more awful still.
“May I come from this place of safety, sirs?” it continued. “Have I your pledge that you will not hurt me?”
“Stay where you stand, woman!” Curley Greenleaf ordered. “If you move from that little isle in your lagoon, we will surely slay you, even naked and helpless as you appear.” Gord, feeling himself becoming confused, nudged the druid at this point, but Greenleaf ignored the contact and went on.
“We seek a cataboligne, a demon of fearsome power. If you are not such, prove it by telling us where this fiend lurks, and we might spare you.”
“Aren’t you cold?” interjected the barbarian as he stared at the figure in the center of the cavern.
Now Gord’s head was swimming. Woman? Naked and helpless? Lagoon? Cold? What were his companions talking about? The scaled and wrinkled demon that leered from huge, horizontal-pupiled eyes at bear and men was certainly naked of clothing. But it was most certainly not female, as far as human standards went, and from where Gord stood, the thing seemed comfortable as its splayed, clawed feet rested on the rock of the cavern’s hard surface-a floor that displayed not the slightest trace of water, but which was strewn with a welter of bones, skulls, and other undefinable litter.
Gord tentatively put his free hand on Greenleaf’s shoulder as if to shake the druid awake from a dream. “Have you gone daft?” he asked, but before he could speak further, the demon interrupted him, and both of his fellow adventurers had their attention riveted on the figure in front of them.
“Oh, yes!” said the thing in the cavern sweetly. “I will tell you where that nasty cataboligne is! It hurts me, and I hate its evil. I will gladly show you the way to its lair, a place not too far from here… unless brave men fear to have a naked and defenseless woman accompany them.” With that, the demon took a small step toward the four.
Yurgh growled softly, but he did not seem frightened and did not move forward to meet the thing. Curley and Chert seemed likewise unafraid-but Gord was horrified by the approach of the cataboligne!
As he fought to retain control of his reason in the face of his terror, Gord noticed for the first time that the sword in his hand seemed to be pulsing, and in an eye-blink he put everything together in his mind: The demon had somehow placed a glamour upon his companions, a magic that made them think they were facing an unclothed woman of harmless aspect. But the power of Gord’s weapon overcame the dweomer of the demon for him and enabled him to see the creature for what it really was!
Without dwelling further on the matter, Gord rapped the druid sharply on the left arm, using the flat of his blade. “Clear your brain, man!” he shouted, no longer tentative in the least. “The godsdamned demon comes for us!”
The cataboligne had been fixing its gaze on the bear, taking small, cautious steps toward it with the evident intention of finishing the giant ursine before going after the men. But then the earless, egg-shaped head jerked up at the sound of Gord’s desperate warning, and the terrible eyes locked on the young thief. An unspeakable fear filled Gord, and the wash of it weakened his muscles and made his knees knock together. He almost dropped his sword-but as his fingers loosened, the hilt somehow stuck fast in his hand. The demon continued to stare at Gord, but in the space of two or three seconds the feeling of terror passed and he felt himself able to move again.
“At the bastard thing, for your lives!” he shouted, and with that cry he darted a couple of steps forward, ready to do battle.
The effect of Gord’s actions freed the others from the illusion they had been beholding, as evidenced by their immediate reactions. Yurgh roared with ear-splitting ferocity, stood erect, and shuffled forward on his back legs. The druid swung a hammer free from his left wrist where it had been thonged, loosed it toward the demon in a single, whirling motion, and then held his ground near the chamber entrance. The barbarian stepped up to close quarters with the terrible foe, battle-axe held ready to strike.
All of the demon’s intended victims were now bent on destroying the thing, but the monster was not unprepared for this turn of events. Distracted for a split-second by the bear’s roar, the cataboligne failed to avoid the thrown warhammer-but even as it was struck on the body by the whirling weapon, the demon was acting to again put its attackers at a disadvantage. The blue radiance it gave off became a brief, eye-searing blue flash-and then all light was gone, including that from the lodestone on Chert’s helmet. The cavern was plunged into total darkness.
“Come close, demon dog, and feel Brool!” The cry came from Chert, standing off to Gord’s right between the thief and the bear. Although he was blinded, a low humming sound indicated that the barbarian was swinging his great battle-axe to and fro before him.
The demon’s response was a hideous, chilling laughter, a sound like a dozen insane children in demented glee.
Gord found that he could see clearly despite the blackness, although colors were not as they should have been. It took a moment for his brain to learn how to deal with things-and by then it was almost too late!
“To your right, Chert!” screamed Gord. “The thing is moving between you and Yurgh!” He saw Chert turn in response to his warning, just as the demon pivoted to face Gord, glaring banefully, and pointed at him with a scaled, claw-fingered hand. Instinctively, Gord took evasive acrobatic action, not a second too soon. Gray light issued from the cataboligne’s eyes, first striking the place where he had been and then following the path of his leap and roll. Before he could rise from his half-prone position, Gord felt the strange radiance touch him. A terrible wave of pain passed through him; then his muscles were convulsed by a vicious cramping, and he couldn’t move. Paralyzed, Gord could only watch what transpired next.
As the demon was spending its power on Gord, the druid had been at work. Thanks to a spell guided by Greenleaf’s elven eyesight, the cataboligne was now limned with a pale radiance, and both barbarian and bear could see its form outlined in pale green phosphorescence. Chert was closer and struck immediately.
“Brool bites!” he bellowed, leaping forward and burying his axe in the demon’s scaly thigh. The big barbarian was dwarfed by the towering cataboligne, but the blow caused the demon to shriek in pain. As Chert drew back the blade, the demon sent a stream of ugly, blue darts from its fingers. These missiles struck the barbarian, and he reeled backward.
What the demon intended next was uncertain, for a snarling form struck it in fury, and cataboligne and cave bear were locked in a tearing, clawing, biting, roaring melee. The bear’s rush actually overbore the demon, and the two combatants rolled and fought locked together thus. Chert, still staggering from the effects of the strike he had absorbed, followed their path as they thrashed about the chamber, being careful not to be crushed beneath these titanic opponents but staying ready to strike with his axe again when he could get a clear target.