***
Maintaining a steady pace, Professor Einstein raced up the next stairwell. Soon, the sounds of gunfire faded into the distance. Shaking his head to clear it of unwanted thoughts, Professor Einstein concentrated on watching for traps as he climbed the steps. It was obvious by now that William Owen was a powerful sorcerer, and while Alexander's sword possessed an extensive list of spells, Professor Einstein lacked essential basic training in the occult arts. That placed him at a crucial disadvantage. But whatever the cost, Einstein knew that he must be victorious. There were too many lives depending upon the outcome, for him to fail!
At the top of the stairs, the professor found another bronze door, this time unlocked and slightly ajar. The room beyond pitch black, and not a sound could be heard aside from his own breathing. What, no sign saying 'insert booby-trap here'?
Keeping flat to the wall, Professor Einstein squeezed through opening without touching the portal or the door itself. Reaching the other side, the professor expected to see some sort of a hidden explosive charge, or a spring-loaded bear trap, but instead there was only bucket balanced atop the door. The slightest touch to the door and the bucket would fall dashing out its contents. Whatever those were, he wanted no part of them.
Sniffing hard to try and detect any telltale odors from the bucket, the professor almost gagged on the foul reek of fresh blood filling the air. Good lord, I haven't smelled anything that bad since working at the sewage plant in Bombay, India! Covering his nose with a handkerchief, Professor Einstein glanced at his clothing, but the earlier rush of water in the booby-trapped stairwell had washed him clean of the demon blood. So where was this awful stink coming from?
Raising the glowing sword higher, the professor could see that he was standing in an alcove set between two carved pillars. Advancing past them, he saw silvery beams coming from the ceiling. Looking upward, he beheld the triple moons shining weakly through a transparent dome.
Glancing downward, Einstein saw that the marble floor was inlaid with a huge mystical rune in the shape of an engorged squid that pulsed like a living thing in the moonlight. Good enough. There could be no further doubt that this was his goal: the temple of the Squid God, as he had seen it atop the black mountain. But if this was their temple, then where were Owen and his cadre of worshipers? Was he too late? Had the Squid God already been born?
Squinting at the ebony shadows outside his circle of light, Einstein demanded maximum illumination. The sword responded by increasing its glow to a nearly blinding level. As the temple became filled with the clear white light, the professor almost gagged at the sight of all the dead bodies lining the walls. The horrible reek he smelled came from the dozens - no, the hundreds - of corpses stacked like cordwood between the external pillars forming a sort of crude wall around the temple.
Every robed man and woman had a slit throat. Rivulets of dark crimson dribbled onto the marble floor to trickle into the rune and flow along the lines like burgundy wine in an aqueduct. Suddenly, the professor had a flashback to the blood on the floor of the exhibit hall of his museum. He took a glance through the cracked monocle and saw thick, evil magic everywhere. Fresh spilled blood must be a prime ingredient for the summoning of magical power for these heathen lunatics. Professor Einstein snorted at the phrase. Lunatic. Never before had the word been used so accurately.
Stepping over the trickles of blood, the professor moved onto the rune. The illusion of empty air shimmered away to reveal a large stone altar draped in a tapestry adorned with strange mystical symbols. Placed prominently on top of that altar of evil was a bubbling iron cauldron, connected to the rune by strands of silver wire. But was the rune powering the cauldron, or vice versa? Trying the monocle once more, the professor cursed as the glass shattered from the overload of dark forces in the area. Blast! He cast it away, and licked a cut finger.
Expecting attack from everywhere, Professor Einstein eased closer to the altar. The silver-blue moonlight changed to a silvery-green. The professor went motionless. Had he just triggered some spell, or spoiled it? There was no way to tell. Then again, since his task was to stop the ceremony of the rebirth, perhaps some plain, old fashioned smashing about would do the trick. Tally-ho!
As Professor Einstein leveled the sword to unleash general destruction, a lightning bolt crackled down from the ceiling to knock the blade from his hand. Einstein cried out in pain as the sword went tumbling through the air and hit the floor with a loud clatter. Immediately, its golden aura began to fade.
Massaging his stinging hand, the professor spat a curse as William Owen floated out from inside one of the support columns to land near the altar. The Dutarian High Priest was wearing a hooded black robe edged in the finest filigree. On a gold chain about his neck hung a duplicate of the rune on the floor, and in his right hand was a tall staff made of carved human bones.
Horrible! But then Professor Einstein spied a medical plaster on Owen's neck covering the wound he had received from the bullet fired by Lord Carstairs. In spite of all his magic, this is only a mortal man, Einstein reminded himself, sneaking a hand into his pocket. And anything that can be hurt can be killed.
"So you made it here alive. Well done, old man," Owen sneered, clenching his undamaged left hand into a tight fist to shake it at the professor. "I really didn't think you and the royal lump would get this far. Yes, indeed, I must admit that you do remind me of a blind whore."
Raising both eyebrows, Professor Einstein stared back at the man in total confusion.
"I've got to hand it to you," the High Priest finished with a fiendish cackle.
"Spoken like the true lower class trash you are," the professor spat contemptuously. Then, moving fast, Einstein threw a fistful of gold coins at the priest as a distraction and desperately dove for the fallen sword.
Sliding across the bloody floor, Professor Einstein was almost to the sword when a blue flash engulfed him like an explosion. He was brutally thrown aside. Tucking and rolling as he had been taught by his old judo master in Japan, the professor smoothly rose to a standing position, pressed against the wall of human flesh that was jammed between the stone pillars.
"You can forget that wretched toy," Owen continued, lowering the crackling staff. "While I find you pitiful, I have a healthy respect for the Sword of Alexander. You taught me about its abilities, remember? Such a pity that you couldn't find the ancient sword of Dutar. With that you might have actually stood a chance against me."
"A camel and your mother," Professor Einstein snarled, hoping to trigger a blind rage. An angry opponent was a weak opponent. That bit of wisdom came from the Oxford Snooker Club: winners of the Grand Master Award for ten straight years. Or was it Sun Tzu? Blast, he often got the two confused.
"Oh yes, they do it often," Owen snickered. "And what's more, I like to watch."
"Well, those that can't do…" the professor said, leaving the astonishingly rude sentiment unfinished.
Going livid, the Dutarian High Priest shouted in a strange language, and a lambent field of rainbow light enveloped the professor. Unexpectedly feeling as if he weighed a ton, Einstein was forced to his knees, and discovered that he could no longer draw in a breath. His temples began to pound as a burning sensation filled his laboring chest. With fumbling hands, the heaving professor ripped open his collar, but to no avail. The temple started to become blurry.
"Goodbye, Professor Einstein," William Owen snarled, as the rainbow glow increased around the explorer until the light seemed to fill the universe.
Chapter Twenty-Three
With both lungs pumping furiously, Professor Einstein spit his last breath at the High Priest in a virulent curse. Unexpectedly, the pressure suddenly dissipated and the professor was able to draw in a breath of cool, reeking air.
Feeling his strength rapidly return, Einstein attempted to duplicate the gesture that was filling his mind, and as he did, the rainbow glow around him vanished completely.
Gurgling in shock, Owen staggered backwards and cl
utched a fistful of his own hair. "Impossible!" the High Priest croaked, attempting to hide behind his magical wand. "Incredible!"
"Neither, you simpering dolt," Professor Einstein wheezed menacingly. Slowly standing, the professor touched the battered bronze crown still on his head. "Apparently, your cowardly attack has awakened the Crown of Alexander, and it yearns to once more battle against evil."
Suddenly radiating a protective bronze shine, a rather tan-looking Professor Einstein took a determined step forward. "Which means you, old boy," he added in dire explanation.
"It's a trick," Owen muttered, and thrust his wand forward. A shimmering blue beam lanced from the tip to hit the bronze field fluctuating around Einstein. But it only ricocheted off to strike the floor and leave a thick patch of ice.
Rolling up his sleeves, Professor Einstein listened to the voice astride his head, and made a fast series of complex finger movements. Across the temple, the Sword of Alexander rattled alive, and then flew through the air to land in the professor's outstretched hand with a firm smack.
With both of the magical items awake and reunited, the professor could mentally hear them converse. The magic book from the nameless city had played fair. The sword working together with the crown constituted a single weapon. How very interesting! The professor briefly wondered if something similar to this had been the origin of the legend of Merlin. Had he been a wizard, or merely the voice of the crown that King Arthur wore? Now, there was a neat puzzle to solve some other day!
Duck to the left!
Moving fast, Professor Einstein dodged an incoming barrage of ice balls from the wand of the High Priest. Whew, that was close.
Thank you, he thought at the crown.
No problem. Now, have at thee!
What? Oh. "En garde ! " Professor Einstein snarled at his enemy.
As Owen shifted about like a boxer ready to slip a punch, Einstein spun the sword in a complex pattern and cut loose a dazzling beam of force. As it shot across the temple, a swirling pattern of crackling energy appeared about the gesturing High Priest. The ray was deflected to strike a marble pillar, vaporizing a massive chunk of stone. Weakened beyond endurance, the column fell, and a score of corpses tumbled away to reveal the mountain crater outside. On the horizon, the triple moons were just starting to align themselves in a straight row, one behind the other.
Oddbotkins, a conjunction here must mean a full moon on the true Earth! the professor deduced. This is it! The rebirthing will commence at any moment!
So kill him, the crown urged.
Most sensible advice. I shall!
After rummaging about in his robes, William Owen dropped some acorns on the floor. He then pulled an Adams .32 pocket-pistol and fired, but the Sword of Alexander blocked the incoming lead with childish ease.
Gesturing with both his free hand and the sword, Professor Einstein tried to freeze the mouth of his enemy, but the Staff of the Squid God neutralized the conjure. Shouting incantations at each other, the two men advanced. Blinding polychromatic lights filled the temple. Death spells collided with the sound of slamming anvils. Mesmerisms swirled hypnotically in the boiling air, and each man just barely missed having his sanity stolen by the other. Clothing burst into fire, only to regenerate precisely behind the moving bands of flame.
Flying knives swirled about the two combatants in a hurricane of edged death. A slimy blob appeared next to the professor, but it was promptly eaten by a miniature Tyrannosaurus Rex . Banshees raked sonic claws across aching eardrums, countered with wads of magical cotton. Deadly Black Mambo snakes slithered across the glass-dome of the ceiling, only to be killed at the mere touch of a Golden Arrow frog hopping about.
Soon, the bloody floor crawled with deadly insects, and fanged leprechauns got crushed underfoot. Passing angels clucked disapprovingly at the wanton display of violence, while summoned demons merely laughed and took photographs. Briefly, the angry ghost of Red John Bonater appeared, waving a naked scimitar, but the avenging specter vanished a heartbeat later as the High Priest opened a transdimensional portal and sent the spirit hurtling down into the fiery abyss of Hell. A split second later, the transdimensional vortex opened wide again, and the pirate was kicked out.
"No sailors or actors allowed!" a demon shouted, and slammed the portal shut permanently.
A giant transparent hammer pounded ineffectively on Owen's head, while an ethereal mousetrap snapped without damage on the Professor Einstein's adamantine body. Arrows shot from their open palms, cannon balls volleyed from their knees, and steam shot from their ears as the scholars battled for control of the world. The priest and the professor alternately grew and shrank in size to distort each other's aim. Waves of unreality crashed about the men. Sparkling darkness swallowed throbbing sunlight. In the air above the combatants, a giant pair of hands thumb-wrestled in deadly sincerity. Balls of blue fire bounced madly about the room. Lightning bolts crackled everywhere.
The hundreds of dead Squid God worshipers arose as a zombie army, but a thundering avalanche of kosher salt poured into the temple, and sent them tumbling into the crater. Yet the ethereal maelstrom did not even ruffle the hair of the wildly gesturing enemies. The temple shook at the passage. The partially open door in the alcove slammed shut, dislodging the bucket on top. It crashed to the floor releasing its watery contents, the fluid hissing and sizzling as acid began to dissolve the marble.
The sound caught Einstein's attention for a moment, and he gasped in horror at his reflection in a patch ice on a column. He looked older! Years older. Apparently channeling this much magical force through his physical form was taking a terrible toll. The professor was aging at a phenomenal rate. His bushy gray hair was receding from a wrinkling brow. Liver spots now dotted both hands, and every joint began to hurt with advanced rheumatism. Even his vaunted eyesight began to blur, and the voice from the crown started to dim. This magical battle was literally sucking the life out the professor, yet there was no other choice. He had to fight on.
Working together, the crown and sword of Alexander countered a fresh wave of attacks from the snarling Owen, and then blocked a returning series of death spells. Next, the temple was rocked by a powerful earthquake. The floor started to crack open wide before it was repaired by a giant translucent staple gun. That was when Professor Einstein noticed that the High Priest of Dutar had not aged one single bit from the battle. How could anybody still be fresh and young after this level of expenditure? On that subject, the crown was ominously silent.
Feeling his teeth starting to loosen, Einstein knew that he had to do something deuced clever soon, or else Owen could simply wait until the professor died of old age and win by default. But what could he try that had not failed already?
Maintaining the attacks, Professor Einstein tried to analyze the situation, replaying the previous fight in his mind. The answer came immediately. The rune on the floor! That had to be it! No matter what was happening, Owen refused to move from his original position. On the other hand, Professor Einstein had run around quite a bit in order to dodge various attacks. But Owen would rather take damage rather than leave the immediate vicinity of the mystic rune. What to do? What could he do?
Meanwhile, transparent vipers tried to spit poison at Owen, only to be consumed by a giant mongoose. Then a golden wolf ate the mongoose. A red bear consumed the mongoose, only to be squashed by a belly-flopping golden whale, the impact cracking the marble floor.
Concentrating on the rune, Professor Einstein observed a slim wire leading from the boot of the High Priest to the edge of the mystic symbol. Hell's bells, the clever bugger must actually be siphoning off magical energy from the ethereal matrix within the rune! Every attack by the Sword of Alexander is fueling the High Priest's continued youth! In spite of everything, Einstein had to admit it was a damn clever strategy, and one that he could do nothing about.
Getting tough, the bronze crown decided to switch tactics, so it offered a new battle plan. Maintaining a shimmering shield with the out-
thrust palm of his left hand, Professor Einstein leveled the sword at Owen, and from its tip, a massive power beam erupted. It struck the staff of the High Priest, and tried to alternately burn-boil-bore its way through. In response, Owen grabbed the seal of the Squid God hanging about his neck, and the bone staff stiffly resisted. Using more and more of his life force, Professor Einstein increased the attack. As a stream of vitriolic gold splashed against an immaterial barrier of shimmering blue, the temple became awash in the lethal vibrations of the Technicolor battle.
Looking frightened, Owen muttered defense conjures, as his staff now began to smolder slightly. Then the defensive aura about the High Priest started to shrink, and the man gasped for breath, literally cooking the awful heat. Knowing that he was on the verge of victory, Einstein grinned in delight, but then staggered as he felt a hammer-blow to his chest. He recognized the symptoms of a coming heart attack. Bloody hell, not now! But a wave of weakness washed over the aging professor, and he fell to his knees, barely able to keep the sword erect.
Unexpectedly released, Owen clutched the Great Seal, and redoubled the output of his own staff. The temple shuddered under the iridescent by-products of the irresistible force meeting the immovable object in a dazzling pyrotechnic display. The marble cracked, and the tapestries draped over the altar vanished in a sheet of flame, the additional heat only increasing the fierce bubbling in the cauldron of blood.
With sweat pouring from his pain-wracked body, Professor Einstein struggled to maintain some kind of defense against the brutal ethereal assault. The temperature of the temple was steadily rising. With a flash, a pool of lava surrounded the professor, the little island of marble floor directly beneath his feet shrinking in the molten stone.
Grinning in triumph, Owen laughed uproariously. Raw hatred of the mocking foe welled from within Professor Einstein as inspiration came. Horrified, the bronze crown vetoed the outlandish idea, but the professor refused to listen this time, and charged.
THAT DARN SQUID GOD Page 24