The Sleeping Sorceress Read Online Free PDF

fell in the snow and lay motionless they were scarcely aware that they had ceased to move. They understood no difference now between life and death, between existence and the cessation of existence.
    And when the sun rose and warmed their flesh a little they stirred and raised their heads, perhaps in an effort to catch one last glimpse of the world they were leaving.
    And they saw the castle.
    It stood there in the middle of the steppe and it was ancient. Snow covered the moss and the lichen which grew on its worn, old stones. It seemed to have been there for eternity, yet neither Elric nor Moonglum had ever heard of such a castle standing alone in the steppe. It was hard to imagine how a castle so old could exist in the land once known as World’s Edge.
    Moonglum was the first to rise. He stumbled through the deep snow to where Elric lay. With chapped hands he tried to lift his friend.
    The tide of Elric’s thin blood had almost ceased to move in his body. He moaned as Moonglum helped him to his feet. He tried to speak, but his lips were frozen shut.
    Clutching each other, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling, they progressed towards the castle.
    Its entrance stood open. They fell through it and the warmth issuing from the interior revived them sufficiently to allow them to rise and stagger down a narrow passage into a great hall.

    It was an empty hall.
    It was completely bare of furnishings, save for a huge log fire that blazed in a hearth of granite and quartz built at the far end of the hall. They crossed flagstones of lapis lazuli to reach it.
    “So the castle is inhabited.”
    Moonglum’s voice was harsh and thick in his mouth. He stared around him at the basalt walls. He raised his voice as best he could and called:
    “Greetings to whoever is the master of this hall. We are Moonglum of Elwher and Elric of Melniboné and we crave your hospitality, for we are lost in your land.”
    And then Elric’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor.
    Moonglum stumbled towards him as the echoes of his voice died in the hall. All was silent save for the crackling of the logs in the hearth.
    Moonglum dragged Elric to the fire and laid him down near it.
    “Warm your bones here, friend Elric. I’ll seek the folk who live here.”
    Then he crossed the hall and ascended the stone stair leading to the next floor of the castle.
    This floor was as bereft of furniture or decoration as the other. There were many rooms, but all of them were empty. Moonglum began to feel uneasy, scenting something of the supernatural here. Could this be Theleb K’aarna’s castle?
    For someone dwelt here, in truth. Someone had laid the fire and had opened the gates so that they might enter. And they had not left the castle in the ordinary way or he should have noticed the tracks in the snow outside.
    Moonglum paused, then turned and slowly began to descend the stairs. Reaching the hall, he saw that Elric had revived enough to prop himself up against the chimneypiece.
    “And—what—found you . . .” said Elric thickly.
    Moonglum shrugged. “Nought. No servants. No master. If they have gone a-hunting, then they hunt on flying beasts, for there are no signs of hoofprints in the snow outside. I am a little nervous, I must admit.” He smiled slightly. “Aye—and a little hungry, too. I’ll seek the pantry. If danger comes, we’d do as well to face it on full stomachs.”
    There was a door set back and to one side of the hearth. He tried the latch and it opened into a short passage at the end of which was another door. He went down the passage, hand on sword, and opened the door at the end. A parlour, as deserted as the rest of the castle. And beyond the parlour he saw the castle’s kitchens. He went through the kitchens, noting that there were cooking things here, all polished and clean but none in use, and came finally to the pantry.
    Here he found the best part of a large deer hanging and on the shelf above it were ranked many skins and jars of