Castle War c-4 Page 2

  “You’re finally up,” Linda said.

  “All ready for my first day of kindergarten. And you won’t even have to walk me to the school bus.” He dropped the luggage and sat down. “Hope I have time for breakfast.” He started heaping flapjacks onto a plate.

  “What time is your plane?” Linda asked.

  “Eleven-ten. Hope they’re ready at Halfway to take me to the airport. It’s a long drive into Pittsburgh.”

  Orrin said, “I’m to tell you, sir, that Hulbert is standing by with the motorcar.”

  “Fine. Bert’s the best driver of the lot.”

  Dalton said, “Before you arrived, Gene, we were all speculating as to why you were going back to school. Why don’t we get it from the horse’s mouth?”

  “Maybe it’s not the mouth my reasons come from,” Gene said. “But never mind. All I can say is, the prospect of hanging around a castle for the rest of my life polishing my sword has its attractions, but I have to prove something to myself.”

  “What’s that, Gene?”

  “That I don’t have to be here. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be here. But I don’t want it to be the only place I can exist. So I’m going back to school and study something worthwhile and do something with it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like get a job. I’ll work for as long as it takes to pay my parents back for putting me through college. My dad took a bath when the stock market crashed a little while back. He’s looking at retirement with a skimpy portfolio and not a lot of savings. They have equity in the house, but you gotta have a roof over your head. So, I’m going back to the real world for a while and help them out.”

  Linda smiled at Dalton. “I told you.”

  “Well, I think that’s very commendable, Gene,” Dalton said.

  “Thank you.”

  Linda asked, “Is Sheila coming to see you off?”

  “No, I saw her and Trent last night. Said our goodbyes. I really wanted Lord Incarnadine to be here, though.”

  Thaxton looked around. “Does anyone know where our host is and what he’s doing?”

  “As usual,” Dalton said, “he’s on one of his secret missions. Most likely diplomatic doings in an aspect where he has some political interest.”

  “Is there an aspect where he doesn’t have a political interest?” Linda asked.

  “Oh, a few, I imagine,” Thaxton said. “One man can’t look after 144,000 worlds.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past Lord Incarnadine,” Linda said. “Sure, I know that a lot of aspects are unstable and nobody goes there, but I bet Incarnadine looks after political stuff in several hundred at least.”

  “You may be right,” Dalton said, then drained his coffee cup. “Well, I’m off. I mean to get in nine holes before lunch. Are you with me, Thaxton?”

  Thaxton pulled his golf bag out from under the table. “Let’s have a go.”

  “Gene,” Dalton said, holding out a hand, “I wish you the best of luck.”

  Gene shook. “Thanks.”

  Dalton and Thaxton left.

  Linda asked, “Are you coming back for Thanksgiving?”

  “It depends on what my folks have planned. I really don’t know if I can make it back here. I’ll try, though. Definitely be back for Christmas.”

  “I planned on going to California for Christmas,” Linda said sadly.

  “Looks like we’re not going to see each other till summer.”

  “I’m going to miss you, swordsman.”

  “Same here, sorceress.”

  They exchanged smiles for a second, then Gene resumed pouring maple syrup.

  “So Vaya is staying at Pitt?”

  “Yeah,” Gene said, “for one more trimester, then she’s transferring to UCLA. They’ve already accepted her for the winter term.”

  “She’s done wonderfully for someone who didn’t even know English a year ago.”

  “Osmirik really accomplished miracles with her. But I think Incarnadine worked some magic, too. No one can learn English that good that fast.”

  “I don’t know. Vaya’s a remarkable woman.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “Got a scoop for us? Are you two going to get married?”

  “Ask Vaya about that. According to her tribe’s customs, we’re already married. For life. Real serious stuff. Which is fine by me. Just dandy. We might make it Earth-legal, though. The only trouble about living together will be the commute between West L.A. and Pasadena.”

  “So, where are you going to live?”

  “Don’t know yet. I’ll be in the dorm for this term, but when Vaya gets out there, we’re going to have to search for an apartment. How the hell we’re going to afford it, I’ll never know. The rents out there are ridiculous. It might all be moot, though. I’ll probably flunk out of Cal Tech.”

  “Gene, don’t put yourself down.”

  “Well, I don’t think I’m going to fit in with the technoweenie set.”

  “Hey, watch that,” Jeremy said.

  “Present company excepted.”

  Just then a seven-foot-tall creature with milk-white fur padded into the hall. It had yellow eyes and long sharp teeth and long bone-white claws. For all of that it looked friendly.

  “Snowclaw!”

  “Hi, guys,” Snowclaw said.

  “You made it,” Gene said. “I thought I wouldn’t get to say goodbye to you. You disappeared.”

  “I wanted to get in some hunting before the freeze hit. Well, the freeze came early, so I came back, though I would have, anyway, just to see you off.”

  “Glad you did. Sit down and eat some napkins or something.”

  “I’ll just munch on these candles. I’m really not hungry.”

  “That’s news. So, are you going back to Hyperborea or are you going to stay awhile in the castle?”

  “Hyper … Hyperbor … I can’t pronounce that.”

  “What’s the name in your language?”

  Snowclaw growled and snapped.

  Gene said, “I can’t even begin to get my tongue around that.”

  “To answer your question, I’ll probably go back. Gonna be kind of lonely here with you gone. Sure wish I could go with you.”

  “You and me both. But you’d raise a few eyebrows in Pasadena — maybe not in L.A., but Pasadena, yes.”

  “Yeah,” Snowclaw said. “The last time I went to Earth I really got myself in trouble.”

  Everyone at the table laughed.

  Gene said, “Those headlines were great. ‘Abominable Snowman Stalks Western PA.’ And then there was the story in one of the tabloids: ‘Saucer Lands, Captures Bigfoot.’ Right up there with ‘Elvis Alive and Living in Scarsdale.’”

  “If you hadn’t come along in that contraption of yours, I’d still be there getting shot at by the locals. I’m still digging buckshot out of my rear end.”

  “Well, it wasn’t the first time I had to pull your chestnuts out of the fire.”

  “And it might not be the last. Wait a minute — it seems to me that I saved your hide once or twice.”

  “Just kidding, big guy. We made a great team, you and me.”

  “Yeah, and now you’re off to get some book learning, and I’ll probably never see you again.”

  “Are you kidding? We’ll get together again. There’re a hundred thousand worlds in this castle I haven’t explored yet, and I wouldn’t want anyone at my back but you.”

  “Nice of you to say, Gene, old buddy. Same here.” Snowclaw hung his head. “Hey, I’m getting misty-eyed.”

  “Don’t go maudlin on me.”

  “I’ll live.”

  Linda said, “You guys make a great mutual admiration society.”

  Gene shook his head. “It’s embarrassing, isn’t it?”

  “I’m only kidding. Friendship is nice.”

  Gene glanced up to the pendulum clock on the wall. The sign under it read: Eastern Daylight Time (Earth).

  “Holy smoke, I’m late!” Gene gulped co
ffee, wiped his mouth, and threw down his napkin. “Gotta go.” He stood.

  Snowclaw held out his paw, which was more or less a short-fingered hand with claws. “See you around, Gene.”

  Gene shook paws. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be back, remember.”

  “Right.”

  Linda came up and hugged him. “Do good in school.”

  “Will do. Don’t take any wooden talismans.”

  Deena took her turn hugging. “Come back and visit, you hear?”

  “Sure will. So long, Monsieur DuQuesne.”

  “Au revoir.”

  “‘Bye, everyone!”

  Toting his luggage, Gene hurried out.

  Linda sat back down and began nibbling at a croissant. She looked thoughtful.

  She said, “I wonder if he’s making the right move. He needs adventure. Pasadena’s not going to provide that.”

  “There’s always the Rose Bowl,” Deena said.

  Three

  Castle Keep — Guest Residence

  “Are you coming?” Thaxton called irritably.

  Dalton had stopped to chat with a servant and another guest. He turned his head. “Hold your horses.”

  “Haven’t got all day.”

  Dalton said goodbye and hefted his clubs. He came down the corridor toward Thaxton.

  “Since when are you in a hurry to play golf?”

  “Sorry, hate to stand about while somebody dawdles.”

  “You are one irascible bloke.”

  “I said I was sorry,” Thaxton said.

  “I have to wheedle and cajole to get you to play golf and now you can’t wait.”

  “You said you wanted to do nine holes before lunch, and I’m already hungry.”

  “Why didn’t you fill up at breakfast?”

  “Can’t eat a big breakfast usually. Stomach’s upset when I get up. Incipient ulcer. Been meaning to — hello, what’s this?”

  Thaxton had stopped in front of the archway that led to the world of the golf course.

  “Now, what the bloody hell is going on?”

  Dalton rubbed his chin. “Looks different, doesn’t it?”

  “Well, yes. There used to be trees, then the clubhouse on the left, then the first tee.”

  What they saw was a tee and a long beautiful fairway that doglegged to the right. The surroundings were familiar enough — dense forest.

  “They must have cleared some brush,” Thaxton said.

  “Must have,” Dalton said.

  “What hole is this?”

  “Don’t know.” Dalton crossed the boundary and continued walking.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To play golf,” Dalton said over his shoulder. “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t like the look of it.”

  “It’s a course, isn’t it?”

  “Now, wait just a … oh, bother.”

  Thaxton picked up his bag and followed.

  Dalton was already teeing up. He straightened, walked to the edge of the terrace, and surveyed the course. There was a steep drop off the tee but most of the fairway was level.

  “Looks about a par five,” Dalton said. “They must have done some landscaping.”

  “When? There hasn’t been time.”

  “Magic, I guess.”

  Thaxton looked back. The portal was a standing oblong of grayness set against the greenery. “Shouldn’t we check with the groundkeeper? I can’t see the clubhouse anywhere.”

  Dalton addressed the ball. “Oh, it’s around somewhere.”

  “I want a caddy.”

  “The exercise won’t do you harm.”

  “See here. Are you going to just go ahead and play?”

  “Why not? It’s a lovely course. Looks like they’ve thinned the rough out a bit.”

  Thaxton scowled. “I don’t know about this.”

  Dalton swung. The ball arched on a perfect trajectory and landed about two hundred yards down the middle of the fairway.

  “Topping drive,” Thaxton said.

  “Not so great on distance. One of these days I’m going to get some power into my swing.” Dalton picked up the tee and pocketed it.

  Thaxton teed up. “I really wanted a caddy. Or at least a cart.”

  “Complaints, complaints. I wasn’t kidding about needing exercise. My cardiologist used to insist on it. Back when I needed a cardiologist.”

  “I need a drink.”

  “Before lunch?” Dalton said archly.

  “Don’t get on your bloody high horse. I’ve seen you swill enough at odd times of the day.”

  “True, true. But never directly after breakfast. It hampers the digestion.”

  “You mean it hampers the alcohol from getting into your blood.”

  “That, too. Shoot.”

  Thaxton made his shot. It was a horrible slice and the ball landed perilously near the rough.

  “Damn it to hell. Bad lie, it looks like.”

  “You’re still on the fairway.”

  “Rotten approach to the green.”

  Dalton sized it up. “You could have picked a better angle.”

  “Let’s be off.”

  They walked out onto the fairway. The wet grass was clipped short. The sky was overcast and a cool wind was up.

  “Not the best weather,” Thaxton said.

  “Seems good enough.”

  Thaxton squinted at the sky. “Looks like rain to me.”

  “Won’t rain if it keeps up.”

  “What? Oh, spare me.”

  They separated about fifty yards out, Thaxton veering to the right. Dalton reached his ball and rooted for an iron.

  Thaxton had lost sight of his ball and searched for it, mumbling. At length he chanced upon it and threw down his bag.

  “I can’t even see the bloody green!” he called.

  Dalton pointed ahead, then addressed his ball.

  Thaxton’s attention was drawn in the other direction, toward the tee. A sound like a great rushing of wind came from the sky.

  “What the bleeding blazes …?”

  The source hove into view. It swooped down from the sky, pinions flapping, green and golden scales shimmering. It landed on the fairway. The wings folded elaborately, the long barbed tail snaking to and fro. Its tapered head was many-toothed and golden-eyed, and pale blue flame fluttered from its mouth. A picket fence of triangular fins ran down the length of its back and tail.

  Thaxton watched it. The beast snuffled around in some bushes to the right of the tee until it found something suitable. The powerful jaws closed. It uprooted a plant and chewed contentedly.

  Thaxton cupped a hand to the side of his mouth. “I say, Dalton, old boy?”

  “Eh?”

  “Tell me that’s a flying dinosaur.”

  “What? Oh.”

  They both watched the thing forage.

  Dalton said, “I think that’s your garden-variety dragon.”

  “What the devil’s it doing here?”

  “Maybe it’s the groundkeeper?”

  “Looks like we can’t go back that way,” Thaxton said.

  “I’m playing through no matter what.”

  Dalton determinedly took his stance. He swung. The ball described a lazy arc toward the green.

  “Right,” Thaxton said. “Carry on.”

  Bloody hell, he said to himself.

  Four

  Keep — Earth Aspect

  Gene stood before the castle doorway that led to Earth and home.

  “What the hell …?”

  What he should have been looking at was the interior of a spacious country manor. Located in Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania, “Halfway House” served as a way station between the castle and Earth. But all that appeared beyond the outline of the portal was an expanse of empty meadow fringed by a line of trees.

  He looked up and down the hallway in the castle. No one was about. The guards would have been on the other side of the portal, stationed in the house.

  �
��Damn thing must have moved again.”

  The portal did sometimes shift, and usually Sheila Jankowski or Incarnadine would have to be summoned to nudge it back again.

  Gene picked up his luggage again and stepped through. He looked around. The terrain looked familiar. He guessed that he was on the other side of the hill to the rear of the house. No problem. He’d just hike to the house and tell the guards where the portal had drifted to. One of them would have to step back into the castle and fetch Sheila, who would try to anchor the doorway back at the house again. It happened all the time. Very annoying.

  Stepping briskly over dewy grass, Gene made his way up the knoll. The sun was low and the air was cool, conveying a hint of autumn.

  Reaching the crest, he experienced a moment of disorientation until he realized that the meadow was on the house side of the hill. But the house was gone. Moreover, the ground looked as though the house had never been there.

  This might be Earth, but it was one where Halfway House did not exist, had never existed. Everything else looked the same, but Gene knew he was not in the world where he belonged.

  He checked the portal, a barely visible rectangle, one-dimensional and anomalous, standing in the hayfield below. It seemed to shimmer a bit, but looked stable enough.

  There was nothing to do but go back to the castle. Something had happened to the Earth-Perilous link, and Gene would probably miss his plane.

  “Rats.”

  He couldn’t muster much disappointment. This surprised him. He suddenly realized that he really wasn’t as keen on going to school as he had thought.

  So why was he going? He sat down on one of the suitcases and thought about it.

  The reason might be a sense of obligation to his parents, or maybe a feeling of guilt for letting them down. After all, they had expected a lot from him.

  At first things had gone pretty good. He took his B.A. magna cum laude and entered grad school. But he quit to try law school. He dropped out of that, too, then drifted in and out of a series of odd jobs. Eventually he wound up living at home, staring out windows. At that point he stumbled into Castle Perilous, and his life of fantasy began.

  Sometimes the thought that it all might be a hallucination nettled him. The hallucination hypothesis was still in the running. If true, the castle was the most convincing phantasm in medical history, having as it did tactile and olfactory dimensions as well as visual and aural ones. It had more: it had downright spatial dimensions. It was the biggest delusion going.