SIGN OF CHAOS Read Online Free PDF Page A

observation as it approached.   Unfortunately, this gave me to believe that it kept everything important well protected.   Too bad.
    I did not want to attack in case it was trying to sucker me into something.   I was not aware of its combat tricks, and I did not care to expose myself unduly in order to learn them.   Better to stay on the defense and let it make the first move; I told myself.   But it just kept moving nearer and nearer.   I knew that I’d be forced to do something soon, even if it were only to retreat...
    One of those long, folded front appendages flashed out toward me, and I spun to the side and cut.   Snicker-snack! The limb lay on the ground, still moving.   So I kept moving, also.   One-two, one-two! Snicker-snack!
    The beast toppled slowly to its left, for I had removed all of the limbs on that side of its body.
    Then, overconfident, I passed too near in racing to round its head to reach the other side and repeat the performance while it was still traumatized and collapsing.   Its other extensor flashed out.   But I was too near and it was still toppling: Instead of catching me with its clawed extremity, it hit me with the equivalent of shin or forearm.   The blow struck me across the chest and I was knocked backward.
    As I scrambled away and drew my feet beneath me to rise, I heard Luke say, groggily, “Now what’s going on?”
    “Later,” I called, without looking back.
    Then, “Hey! You hit me!” he added.
    “All in good fun,” I answered.   “Part of the cure,” and I was up and moving again.
    “Oh,” I heard him say.
    The thing was on its side now and that big limb struck wildly at me, several times.   I avoided it and was able to gauge its range and striking angle.
    Snicker-snack.   The limb fell to the ground and I moved in.
    I swung three blows which passed all the way through its head from different angles before I was able to sever it.   It kept making clicking noises, though, and the torso kept pitching and scrabbling about on the remaining limbs.
    I don’t know how many times I struck after that.   I just kept at it until the creature was literally diced.   Luke had begun shouting “Old!” each time that I struck.   I was perspiring somewhat by then, and I noticed that heat waves or something seemed to be causing my view of the distant flowers to ripple in a disturbing fashion.   I felt foresighted as all hell, though-the Vorpal Sword I’d appropriated back in the bar had proved a fine weapon.   I j, swung it through a high arc, which I’d noted seemed to cleanse it entirely, and then I began folding it back into its original compact form.   It was as soft as flower petals, and it still gave off a faint dusty glow...
    “Bravo!” said a familiar voice, and I fumed until I saw the smile followed by the Cat, who was tapping his paws lightly together.   “Callooh! Callay!” he added.   “Well done, beamish boy!”
    The background wavering grew stronger, and the sky darkened.   I heard Luke say “Hey!” and when I glanced back I saw him getting to his feet, moving forward.   When I looked again I could see the bar forming at the Cat’s back, and I caught a glimpse of the brass rail.   My head began to swim.
    “There’s normally a deposit on the Vorpal Sword,” the “ Cat was saying.   “But since you’re returning it intact-“
    Luke was beside me.   I could hear music again, and he was humming along with it.   Now it was the clearing, with its butchered Fire Angel, that seemed the superimposition, as the bar increased in solidity, taking on nuances of color and shading.
    But the place seemed somehow smaller-the tables closer together, the music softer, the mural more compressed and its artist out of sight.   Even the Caterpillar and his mushroom had retreated to a shadowy nook, and both seemed shrunken, the blue smoke less dense.   I took this as a vaguely good sign, for if our presence there were a result of Luke’s state of mind