Mazirian the Magician Read Online Free PDF Page B

make my task a pleasant one … But I will fulfill your requirements as best I can.”
    â€œGood,” said Pandelume. “Now I must instruct you. Kandive wears this amulet hidden below his singlet. When an enemy appears, he takes it out to display on his chest, such is the potency of the charm. No matter what else, do not gaze on this amulet, either before or after you take it, on pain of most hideous consequence.”
    â€œI understand,” said Turjan. “I will obey. Now there is a question I would ask — providing the answer will not involve me in an undertaking to bring the Moon back to Earth, or recover an elixir you inadvertently spilled in the sea.”
    Pandelume laughed loud. “Ask on,” he responded, “and I will answer.”
    Turjan put his question.
    â€œAs I approached your dwelling, a woman of insane fury wished to kill me. This I would not permit and she departed in rage. Who is this woman and why is she thus?”
    Pandelume’s voice was amused. “I, too,” he replied, “have vats where I mold life into varied forms. This girl T’sais I created, but I wrought carelessly, with a flaw in the synthesis. So she climbed from the vat with a warp in her brain, in this manner: what we hold to be beautiful seems to her loathsome and ugly, and what we find ugly is to her intolerably vile, in a degree that you and I cannot understand. She finds the world a bitter place, peopled with shapes of direst malevolence.”
    â€œSo this is the answer,” Turjan murmured. “Pitiable wretch!”
    â€œNow,” said Pandelume, “you must be on your way to Kaiin; the auspices are good … In a moment open this door, enter, and move to the pattern of runes on the floor.”
    Turjan performed as he was bid. He found the next room to be circular and high-domed, with the varying lights of Embelyon pouring down through sky-transparencies. When he stood upon the pattern in the floor, Pandelume spoke again.
    â€œNow close your eyes, for I must enter and touch you. Heed well, do not try to glimpse me!”
    Turjan closed his eyes. Presently a step sounded behind him. “Extend your hand,” said the voice. Turjan did so and felt a hard object placed therein. “When your mission is accomplished, crush this crystal and at once you will find yourself in this room.” A cold hand was laid on his shoulder.
    â€œAn instant you will sleep,” said Pandelume. “When you awake you will be in the city Kaiin.”
    The hand departed. A dimness came over Turjan as he stood awaiting the passage. The air had suddenly become full of sound: clattering, a tinkling of many small bells, music, voices. Turjan frowned, pursed his lips: A strange tumult for the austere home of Pandelume!
    A woman’s voice sounded close by.
    â€œLook, O Santanil, see the man-owl who closes his eyes to merriment!”
    There was a man’s laughter, suddenly hushed. “Come. The fellow is bereft and possibly violent. Come.”
    Turjan hesitated, then opened his eyes. It was night in white-walled Kaiin, and festival time. Orange lanterns floated in the air, moving as the breeze took them. From the balconies dangled flower chains and cages of blue fireflies. The streets surged with the wine-flushed populace, costumed in a multitude of bizarre modes. Here was a Melantine bargeman, here a warrior of Valdaran’s Green Legion, here another of ancient times wearing one of the old helmets. In a little cleared space a garlanded courtesan of the Kauchique littoral danced the Dance of the Fourteen Silken Movements to the music of flutes. In the shadow of a balcony a girl barbarian of East Almery embraced a man blackened and in leather harness as a Deodand of the forest. They were gay, these people of waning Earth, feverishly merry, for infinite night was close at hand, when the red sun should finally flicker and go black.
    Turjan melted into the throng. At a