Grim said gently, "Look, honey. I'm a stranger here myself. You're
the first normal looking thing I've come across--and even you are
several shades above average." He let his eyes drift over her, and she
straightened angrily.
"I am the Black Priestess of Kohonnes. I am Tlokine."
"Okay, okay. Don't get sore. Come on down and let's be friends."
Something in his amused blue eyes decided her. She let a smile turn up
the corners of her wide red mouth and came down gracefully.
"That's better," Grim chuckled. "Tell me all about this place."
"This is Stormland. The god Kohonnes made it by sending out his breath
and creating it. And when he is angry he sends his breath again--and
his world reshapes itself nearer to his heart's desire."
Grim stared at her oddly. "You cribbed that from Omar. Shows you _do_
know something about the Earth. And the sun? And Kohonnes, what is he?"
"Kohonnes is the creator of Stormland. He made me and Althaya and
her people. He made the sun, too. His breath goes out and reshapes
everything. If you want to avoid the anger of Kohonnes, you stand
within the red markers. He never harms anyone in there."
* * * * *
Grim looked where her finger pointed. On the lower edges of the rock
cliff he could see bright crimson splashes as though paint had been
slapped on the stone. The red band formed a huge oval. He saw the tall
needles lifting from the cliff. It was not rock as he had thought
before the crash. It was a metal spire ending in a globe of interlaced
wires and metal ribbons.
"Looks like an energy broadcaster," he muttered. Then he turned toward
the girl. "Where can I see this Kohonnes of yours? What's he like?"
"He is All. He guides his people and shows them the way to a better,
easier life. But some of his people do not want to wait--they want to
be as powerful as Kohonnes before they are ready. And Althaya--the Red
One--she is worse than any of them. Even now she is in special favor
with the All. She knows somehow _before_ the breath-storms come. She
can walk freely across Stormland. I and others like me must run between
the markers, for we are never sure when the god may breathe again."
Grim felt he was in the middle of a surrealistic nightmare. He wondered
if he were dead, still crumpled up in his wrecked spacer. Or better,
dreaming. He looked at the obscenely humped ground, and shook his head.
"Honey, you have a plenty mixed-up man on your hands. If I could see
this Kohonnes, talk with him--"
Tlokine smiled and nodded. "I will take you to him. I feel sure he will
be glad to see you."
"I hope," whispered Grim under his breath.
* * * * *
_It was gloomy in the black-walled Temple. The girl with the red hair
fanning down across her naked back shuddered. She could never quite
overcome that stab of superstitious fear_--
"_I am displeased, Althaya. I had counted on better things from you._"
"_Your will is the Law, Kohonnes._"
"_See to it, then._"
_The girl bowed low until her crimson hair fell down over her head
to the basalt floor. She seemed subservient, but there was a ruthless
smile on her hidden lips._
* * * * *
Grim Thorssen found this world a land of magic. Twice now, in his
journey to the god Kohonnes, he had sought refuge within the red ovals
with Tlokine. He had seen shapes rear up from loamy ground, assume fey
forms and dissolve, as a sea-wave rises and breaks against a cliff.
Trees enchanted themselves before him; became tall, towering rods of
wood; became thin, twisting things crawling along the grasses. It was
like watching a world in its borning birthpangs. It was beautiful and
eerie and frightening, all at once.
"They used to tell tales of magicians to me when I was a boy," he said
to Tlokine. "I feel as though I'd been transplanted right into one of
those stories."
"It is Kohonnes' breath," answered the girl, putting a hand on his
shoulder to get to her feet. "But hurry now. We must go fast. Althaya
may be riding with her men in this region."
They went fast and lightly. They ate of red fruit hanging from round
branches, and drank from silvery brooks gurgling among dark rocks.
On the morning of the fourth day, they heard hoofbeats growing into a
thundering tattoo behind them. Tlokine and Grim turned and looked at
the same instant.
A lovely girl with red hair waving in the breeze rode a big white
stallion at the head of ten men clad in leather armor, with needle-like
longswords dangling at their waists. Their horses' hooves pounded them
up to the man and girl waiting tensely on the ground.
The redhead reined in her horse, laughed mockingly down at the
black-haired Tlokine. She cried, "I warned you, black one. I told you
Kohonnes favored me."
Grim saw despair on Tlokine's face, and fright beneath it. Althaya
whispered, "Now I will give you back to the Breath ... on one of my own
altars!"
The redhead looked past Tlokine; saw Grim, and stared. Her puzzled
green eyes raked him from the soles of his space-boots to his thick,
tawny hair. Grim saw her eyes fill with curiosity over the gold and
black Fleet uniform, over the stars-and-bars emblazoned in gilt thread
on his chest and sleeve.
"Who are you?" she asked suddenly.
"Grim Thorssen. Commander in the Interstellar Fleet."
She shook her head. She said, "I don't know what to do with you.
Perhaps Ran--" Althaya paused and looked frightened. Biting her full
lower lip, she looked quickly around her. Then she waved a hand at
Tlokine and Grim, saying to her men, "Take them."
Grim would have fought, but the odds were too great. He shrugged his
shoulders philosophically and let his wrists be bound. Then he swung up
behind one of the men-at-arms on the broad croup of his horse.
* * * * *
The sun drew golden glints from the smooth dun walls of the tiny castle
on the black rocks. All around the base of the cliff was splashed
the red color that denoted a zone of safety from the change and the
storm that swept the countryside around it. The little cavalcade
pounded across the wooden drawbridge that extended across the little
red-splashed gully and into the dark cobblestoned courtyard beyond.
Althaya looked at Grim as he slipped from behind the saddle. She
said, "Come with me, man." Obediently he followed her beneath a broad
archway, along a cool corridor and into a small room.
She turned and walked up close to him. Her deep brown eyes were
disturbing under the long red lashes. She saw his perturbation and
smiled. She said, "You like Althaya?"
Grim chuckled, "Any man would like you, gorgeous. But why the buildup?
You're too pretty to need a sop for your vanity."
She looked around her, came even closer so that Grim was assailed by
her perfume and smooth white arms. She said, "There is a man living in
my castle, a man called Black Randolph--ah, you know him?"
"He is a pirate. I've followed him for eight years and never caught up
with him."
She looked at him oddly. "He was wrecked on Stormland. I rescued him
from the storm. He stays here, seeking the secret of what causes the
Change to come across my world. With it he says he can go out into his
own land and be a king. He wants me to help him."
"And?"
Althaya shuddered. "I am afraid of him. He is hard. Ruthless. I have
watched you. You can be a hard man, too. If you and I were to learn the
secret of the Force--instead of Black Randolph--"
The Viking throwback laughed. "What you mean to say, beautiful, is that
you think I'd be easier to manage than Black Randolph--once we got to
be kings."
She slapped him hard across the face, and her face writhed in passion.
She whispered, "For that you'll go to my torture-knives, you _passat_!"
Grim laughed, "Don't play it so thick, Red. A woman only gets as mad as
that when a man turns her down because she isn't intriguing enough--not
because he won't go spacebad with her."
Althaya laughed harshly. Her green eyes approved him. Her bare
shoulders lifted casually.
Grim said, "But while we're on the subject, what _is_ the force that
makes the change?"
"Kohonnes does it. He is the god of all this world."
"Is he a man? A beast? What?"
She shook her red head. "Kohonnes is made of metal. He has a thousand
eyes that glow. He--"
"A machine," mused Grim. "But what kind of a machine does what this one
will? And--who operates it?"
"Kohonnes. I do not know what a machine is, but Kohonnes is the All.
He--"