She did not speak. She watched him and Blade felt himself as drowning in the lambent whorls of those amber depths. He shrugged impatiently and scowled.

«Did you summon me to exchange stares, Izmia. It is not a time for games. I will tell you the truth of things as they are on Patmos. Your island is lost unless I can bring Hectoris to private battle and-and thereby hinges everything-defeat him!»

Izmia held up a hand. «I did not send to hear of that. It is no longer my concern.»

Blade gaped. «It is not? Whose, then?»

The golden eyes narrowed. «Yours, glade. In your hands it lies. And in the hands and body of Juna, if it so be that you can save her and bring her to this place and to her heritage.»

Blade was beginning to feel awe and he did not like it. He feigned anger to disguise his uneasiness. «You may have time for such riddles, Izmia. I have not. Dawn comes in a few hours and I must be at North Harbor to face Hectoris.» He bowed curtly. «So by your leave I-« lzmia raised herself on an elbow. She took the bowl from her belly and held it aloft. «You will remain, Blade. You will listen and you will obey. Without question.»

And Blade somehow knew that it would be so.

Izmia pointed. «You will find a chalice in the cabinet yonder. And a vessel of wine. Fetch them to me.»

Blade did so. When he returned Izmia was standing on the catafalque and holding the metal bowl aloft in both hands. Blade put the chalice and the wine at her feet and gazed up at her magnificent naked body and now desire moved in him. His loins tightened.

Izmia smiled down at him and shook her head. «No, Blade. That is over for us. It is the time of my Weird and I must face it. I leave this life and you will bring another to take my place.»

Juna? And how was he to wrest Juna from Hectoris?

Izmia was tipping a powder into the metal bowl. She took a small instrument and scraped and stirred and crushed, using the instrument as a chemist uses a pestle. Her flesh quivered, the huge firm breasts trembling as she moved. An aromatic smell drifted from the bowl to Blade's nostrils.

Izmia held out a hand. «The wine.»

She poured wine into the chalice and stirred it again. There was a frothing, bubbling sound and faint smoke rose from the bowl. Izmia held out the bowl to Blade. «Drink.»

He did so. Without protest. This was Dimension X and things would be as they would be-and in this case Blade knew that he did right. Izmia knew what she was about.

She lay down on the catafalque once again and extended her arms to Blade. «Now come lie with me and you shall hear.»

Blade was moving as though in a dream darkly; the potion removed him one step from reality, slightly blurring the focus of things, and gave him a deep sense of inner contentment and a desire to please Izmia, to do whatever she asked.

Izmia enfolded him in her arms as if he were a babe. Her body was cool and warm at once, and she pillowed his head on her naked breasts and whispered of what he must do. Blade listened, half drowsing, and understood and knew that it must be this way and no other.

When she had finished Izmia held him a moment longer. She kissed him on the lips and, for a moment, there was warmth and life in the golden eyes once again, then it vanished and her eyes grew blank.

«Come now,» she whispered. «It is time.»

She took his hand and led him to yet another cavern. It was small and cold and dank. In its center, like a baleful eye, was a dark pool. The black water, smooth as taut velvet, promised an inky coldness and depth that set the big man to shivering. And yet he was not afraid. It must be done.

Izmia stood unspeaking as Blade stripped off his armor and his heavy sword and belt. When he stood naked at the edge of the pool, she came to him and touched him lightly here and there and her smile was sweetly sad and Blade knew that this was the real farewell. Her hands lingered on him for another moment, then she stepped back and nodded toward the pool.

«Go, Blade. I have explained. You have one chance. You will triumph or perish.»

In the gloom of the little cavern her body shimmered like heat lightning. Blade gave her a long look, took a deep breath, and went headfirst into the pool.

He made his way down through black ice. His eyes were open to no avail-the darkness was total. This was a place that had never known light. It was narrow, little more than a well, and at times he brushed the sides of cold stone.

Blade went down and down and down. There was no bottom. The first faint pains began in his lungs. The pressure was a dark hand crushing him. Down-downdown-

No bottom ever. He was diving into eternity.

Pain growing now. Flame in his lungs. Soon it would be unbearable. Still he swam downward. And down-and down-

Bottom.

His fluttering hands encountered them immediately. The sword and the pearl. Just as Izmia had said they would be-waiting for him all the aeons long.

The pearl was the size of a billiard ball and filled his hand with chill convexity. The sword was long and cumbersome and immensely heavy. Blade grasped them and kicked his way upward. Straight into the slimy coils. lzmia had not warned him of this thing, whatever it was, that held him now. Serpent, 'monstrous worm, water dragon, whatever it was, it had him in a firm grip and the coils were multiplying and tightening all the while. The more Blade fought, the harder he struggled, the deeper he became enmeshed. His lungs, already screaming for air, began to collapse under the terrible squeeze the creature exerted.

For a moment Blade panicked: Fear screamed and shivered through him. Not so much fear of death, or pain, as of the unknown terror of the moment-this loathsome beast that he could not see, this great leechlike nightmare attached and sucking and squeezing at his body. His arms were bound tight into the coils and he could not draw the sword and pain was raving in his brain.

One of the thick coils slipped across his mouth. Blade, without thought, knowing only that this was his one chance, fastened his strong teeth in the- rubbery flesh and bit with all his might. He bit and chewed and ravaged like a wolf feeding. The flesh in his mouth was foul and bitter, noisome and stinking, and yet he felt the thing shudder and the coils relax a bit. Blade, near to being a mindless thing himself now, ravened.on. He savaged the flesh of the thing.

The coils fell away. Blade shot toward the surface, still clutching the sword and the pearl.

Izmia was not there. Blade had known she would not be. She had explained it all to him. He dragged himself out of the pool and lay gasping for a few minutes, then donned his armor and his sword and belt. There was no cause for hurry now. Izmia would wait.

When he had dressed and fully recovered he examined the sword and the pearl. The sword was broad and long, handsomely sheathed in a scabbard that glistened with jewels, and when he drew the steel it glimmered and glistened as though it were from the forge. Blade put the point on the floor and held the sword away from him. The hilt came to the level of his chin.

The pearl was as black as the pool from which it had come. It glowed with dark fire. Blade stroked it with his fingers and it seemed to throb and come alive, to take warmth from his body, to glisten and respond and almost breathe. He hefted it again and again in his hand and regretted the eventual use to which he must put it. It was, on closer inspection, larger than a billiard ball and he knew he'would never see its like again in any dimension. For a moment he regarded both pearl and sword intently, then sighed anti went back to the larger cavern where Izmia awaited him on her catafalque.

She slept. Blade stood by the catafalque, gazing down at the naked beauty of her, dreading what he must do. But he bad vowed and it must be done. He put the sword on the catafalque beside her and placed the great black pearl in the cabinet with the chalice and the wine. He came back and picked up the sword.