For an instant, the light was as blinding as a magnesium flare, and in that moment the creature was upon me.
It pinned my arms to my sides, and its horns struck against my visor, once, twice…
Then I threw my strength against those arms, and their grip began to weaken.
I dropped Grayswandir, and with a final heave broke the hold it had upon me.
In that moment, however, our eyes met.
Then we both struck, and we both reeled back.
“Lord of Amber,” it said then, “why do you strive with me? It was you who gave us this passage, this way…”
“I regret a rash act and seek to undo it.”
“Too late—and this a strange place to begin.” It struck again, so quickly that it got through my guard. I was slammed back against the wall. Its speed was deadly.
And then it raised its hand and made a sign, and I had a vision of the Courts of Chaos come upon me—a vision that made my hackles rise, made a chill wind blow across my soul, to know what I had done.
“You see?” it was saying. “You gave us this Gateway. Help us now, and we will restore to you that which is yours.”
For a moment I was swayed. It was possible that it could do just what it had offered, if I would help.
But it would be a threat forever after. Allies briefly, we would be at each other‘s throats after we got what we wanted—and those dark forces would be much stronger by then. Still, if I held the city. . .
“Do we have a bargain?” came the sharp, near-bleat of the question.
I thought upon the shadows, and of the places beyond Shadow . . .
Slowly, I reached up and unbuckled my helm . . .
Then I hurled it, just as the creature seemed to relax. I think Ganelon was moving forward by then.
I leaped across the chamber and drove it back against the wall.
“No!” I cried.
Its manlike hands found my throat at about the same instant mine wrapped about its own.
I squeezed, with all my strength, and twisted. I guess it did the same.
I heard something snap like a dry stick. I wondered whose neck had broken. Mine sure hurt.
I opened my eyes and there was the sky. I was lying on my back on a blanket on the ground.
“I‘m afraid he‘s going to live,” said Ganelon, and I turned my head, slowly, in the direction of his voice.
He was seated on the edge of the blanket, sword across his knees. Lorraine was with him.
“How goes it?” I said.
“We‘ve won,” he told me. “You‘ve kept your promise. When you killed that thing, it was all over. The men fell senseless, the creatures burned.”
“Good.”
“I have been sitting here wondering why I no longer hate you.”
“Have you reached any conclusions?”
“No, not really. Maybe it‘s because we‘re a lot alike. I don‘t know.” I smiled at Lorraine.
“I‘m glad you‘re very poor when it comes to prophecy. The battle is over and you‘re still alive.”
“The death has already begun,” she said, not returning my smile.
“What do you mean?”
“They still tell stories of how the Lord Corwin had my grandfather executed—drawn and quartered publicly—for leading one of the early uprisings against him.”
“That wasn‘t me,” I said. “It was one of my shadows.”
But she shook her head and said, “Corwin of Amber, I am what I am,” and she rose and left me then.
“What was it?” asked Ganelon, ignoring her departure. “What was the thing in the tower?”
“Mine,” I said; “one of those things which was released when I laid my curse upon Amber. I opened the way then for that which lies beyond Shadow to enter the real world. The paths of least resistance are followed in these things, through the shadows to Amber. Here, the path was the Circle. Elsewhere, it might be some different thing. I have closed their way through this place now. You may rest easy here.”
“That is why you came here?”
“No,” I said. “Not really. I was but passing on the road to Avalon when I came upon Lance. I could not let him lie there, and after I took him to you I became involved in this piece of my handiwork.”