[Previous Page] [Home Page] [Next Page]

After several leagues the
golden-eyed horse thun-
dered ahead and was
lost to sight.

The spring and drive began
to leave the live boots.
Presently, Mazarian entered
a meadow and saw the horse
riderless, cropping grass.

Mazarian discovered that
his boots hung lax and flaccid-
dead as he kicked them
away, cursing the day and
his ill-fortune, he saw a
tiny man-thing, mounted
on a dragonfly, atop
a nearby rock.

TWK-man, have
you seen a woman
of my race pass-
ing by?

I have seen such
a women.

Where may she
be found?

What may I
expect for the
information?

A vial oil from
my Telanxis bloom?

Good. She left the
trail at the light-
ning-blasted oak
lying a little be-
fore you. She made
for the river valley,
the shortest route
to the lake.

The TWK-man
watched him
go, then
lashed the
vial to the,
dragonfly,
next to the
skein of fine
haft. The
woman had
given him to
thus direct
Mazarian.

A long glade lay before the
magician, sloping gently to
the river. So deep was the
sundown shade that Mazirian
did not see the ebon creature
preparing to leap on his back.

Mazarian sensed the deodand
and sprang to face it.

A Mazarian, you roam the
woods far from home.

I come seeking
deodand. Answer
my questions, and
I undertake to
feed you much
flesh.

You may in any event
Mazarian. Are you
with powerful
spells today?

[Previous Page] [Home Page] [Next Page]