"We do not move backward to change what Entropy did?" Gellor inquired with some concern.

"How often must I reiterate it? There is no forward nor back," Chronos said with some irritability evident. "Besides, I would be in violation of my own standards if I tried to change occurrences such as that which are of timely sort. It occurred, and that is that. Now come along!"

The ancient proctor stepped off with a lively step. The three heroes followed. Although it seemed as if they walked on a treadmill, for the sandy soil beneath their feet seemed unchanging, the scene around them changed and flowed swiftly. Every so many paces the appearance of the Master of Time altered as well. At first he grew younger, seeming to become a man of but seventy or so years, then but sixty. What caused the mutation was impossible to judge, for things all around sped past so swiftly that the three saw only a blur of color, heard a babble of sound occasionally, as well as smelled fleeting hints of varied odors, and that confused their senses greatly. Then Proctor Chronos began to grow. He thickened, shot up inches, then became quite fat, and finally the Master of Time was a giant who still stumped along heavily before Gord, Leda, and Gellor.

"He grows vaster still," Leda whispered in Gord's ear as they went on.

"It is because the region of the multiverse we now travel has a very intense concentration of time."

The bard couldn't help overhearing the exchange. He was somewhat uncertain of exactly what his young friend referred to. "A concentration? That is contrary to the concept of time, Gord. Time is a measure of equal or unequal intervals which record data, the lives of creatures, and so forth."

"That is so, but that does not contradict what I told Leda. Time is intense here because it is measured at fine and precise intervals as well as at irregular but important ones. It is concentrated too, meaning that there are many streams present," the young champion added with a touch of smugness.

"Stop that, Gord," Leda scolded. "You can behave as a sage might because you know our destination. If you had informed Gellor and me, then you wouldn't have the advantage. I believe you keep us in the dark to make just such points."

She was only jesting, but Gord cringed in mock suffering from the admonition. "Please, no more. I am contrite. Do take note, though, that on past occasions the wise and learned troubador has used similar opportunities to make me appear a — "

"Never mind, dear lady," Gellor said haughtily. "This former pupil — and he was a slow and thick one, let me tell you — merely shows off to demonstrate ability beyond his instructor's ken. His example is sufficient to allow the discerning mind a true and stark depiction of the relative merits of our widely diverse mental—"

"Gellor!" This time Leda was shaking her finger. "Now you are being the pedant, and insufferably so, too. What has gotten into you two?"

"I merely sought to lighten the mood," Gellor said sheepishly.

Gord was solemn again, after grinning at his friend's ranting. "We act so, my love, because the burden of what is before is too heavy to bear continuously."

"Oh ... of course. I had almost forgotten about Tharizdun just now."

"Excellent," boomed the voice of Proctor Chronos. "I plan to see that time takes no note of that . . . 'maggot,' as Champion Gord has named him .. . soon now."

The Master of Time was standing before them, a veritable colossus of middling years and muscles that would have shamed the strongest of the titans. "Although Lady Tolerance and I do not always see eye to eye, as you human folk put it, she is a charming and wonderful hostess."

"We are not seeking entertainments," Gord snapped without thinking.

"No? Well, I remind you that she is also a most powerful— "

"That is enough from you, Chronos! The voice came from a female figure of similar build to the Master of Time. "I will speak for myself in my own domain, thank you." Then, as if to show she meant no offense, the lady took Proctor Chronos by his arm and led him into the formal garden that seemed to have simply appeared instantly before the group. "Come along. Champion Gord, Heroine Leda, and Hero Gellor. You are all most welcome visitors to the House of the Fifth Dimension."

The woman — being, correctly, although she appeared now as a giant human because it suited the situation — told the three that she was the ruler of Probability, the fifth dimension. "I observed what was likely to happen, and sent Chronos to your aid, Gord, when you and your comrades were there in.

"You did no such thing!" the Master of Time countered. "It was I who suggested that you allow a greater possibility of equivalence, and thus the compact of the exchange of the relic for the girl was negated."

"I thank you both," Gord said. "We are here for an important reason which is yet before us. Tharizdun now roams free in the cosmos. He gains strength, gathers power, and soon he will come to search me out for it seems I am the only obstacle between him and total subjugation of all things."

"We know that" Chronos said. "But Lord Entropy unbalanced the contest."

Lady Tolerance raised her hand. "Not quite so. The possibility of the entity doing that was there, and it occurred. It was interference, though, and too much so. Entropy has meddled in the whole affair far beyond the boundaries of plausibility. Thus you are here in my house, and thus can I give you some assistance."

"Will you then distill history so that no interference occurred?"

"No more than Chronos here would, no. I am Lady Tolerance, after all. I must allow all things, even those which are inimical to my very existence such as multiple probabilitles existing simultaneously. The Lord of Entropy is one such opposer, and the most deadly, I must add. Some imagine that old Chronos might be, but I spin out new lines and he busily marks and measures them. Probability and alternatives allow him to both be ever busy and persistent too."

"Exactly so, my lady. Time does dwindle away in some aspects of the multiverse, but this wise and generous one sustains new branches."

"Well, at least a mark and dIvide, allowing the new if the cause is sufficiently diverse to warrant another difference. Sometimes I simply allow an action to have effect only within the limited space allowed by the four lower dimensions, you know."

"Limited? You imply some lesser status, I think!" Chronos began to berate their hostess, and soon both were involved in a heated dispute. The matter was one of existence, with probability and time so intermixed that soon neither of these beings seemed able to untangle the mesh of their webs of argumentation. Time fostered probability in that given a sufficiently long interval anything, or almost anything, could and would occur. Chance, on the other hand, both measured and confined time. Did absolute uniformity negate chance and thus engender time? Only temporarily, for uniformity was subject to Entropy's assaults more readily than chaotic diversity. And so it went.

Although the three of them had seated themselves in the chairs that were in the garden of Lady Tolerance, it was disconcerting to witness the dispute, for as she argued the mistress of probability tended to emphasize her points by altering the setting. That included the garden and chairs too. "Aahemmm!" Gord finally coughed, sitting uncomfortably upon a six-legged stool that was at least seven feet high. "There is still the matter of Tharizdun. . . ."

Lady Tolerance uttered an exclamation of annoyance. It was directed at herself. Gord suddenly found himself sprawling in a vast sofa, his companions likewise seated, and the setting surrounding them was some weird and improbably futuristic one. Crystalclear glass walled them in, plants were everywhere in sight, being set into strange barrels and tubs, dweomered illumination sprang from milk-hued globes and metal-headed objects of serpentine form. Low tables of metal and glass, wicker furniture, malformed paintings, odd pottery in strange shapes serving as a curious touch.