The Enchantress of World's End

Dumped into the circular orifice which opened in the gleaming metal flanks of the central ziggurat, Ganelon and his two comrades went tumbling headfirst down a slick, smooth slide. This incline carried them down into the bowels of the structure in a giddy, swooping ride that curved and twisted in the most bewildering manner. For the most part, the slide led them through regions of lightless gloom; but at intervals they shot forth into the blue-white glare of artificial lamps. During such periods they went dizzyingly past, or through, or around levels filled with incomprehensible machinery. There were giant engines, motors whose bulk dwarfed the largest mammals, and confluences of colossal pipes and tubes which resembled nothing so much as titanic pumping stations.

After some time then* trip ended most abruptly as the slide terminated in mid-air, hurtling them onto an immense inflated cushion or gas-bag obviously designed to minimize injury.

No sooner had they struggled to their feet than lassos fell around them, lightening with a jerk. Staring up, they were surprised to see a number of disreputable-looking, rather ruffianly figures suspended above them, clinging to an aerial network of bright-blue metal pipes and tubes. They were a rag-tag, roguish lot, clad in the filthy tatters of former finery, wild greasy locks flying around pinched faces. Quite obviously, these dilapidated vagabonds were stationed here to seize or subdue any chance visitors to the moving metropolis who might happen to drop in, as you might say. It was equally obvious that the scrawny rogues counted heavily on their prey being stunned and dazed by their swooping, veering journey down the steep inclines.

In the present case they had erred, at least as far as the burly Tigerman went. Like all of his feline ancestors, Grrff had the ability to land on his feet and his sense of balance was innate, as was his natural-born resistance to vertigo. Voicing a rumbling roar of outrage, the brawny Karjixian writhed out of his bonds in a trice. He had lost his ygdraxel to the magnetic tendrils, but being unarmed never phased the jungle warrior. Reaching up, he seized a hold of the lasso cords and gave them a vigorous pull, snatching two squeaking ragamuffins from their precarious perch in the piping. They fell squalling and bouncing onto the gas-cushion and Grrff sprang upon them, buffetting them senseless with his heavy paws.

Ganelon was dizzy and disoriented from his headlong trip down the greased shoot, but he was only a moment or two behind the Tigerman’s example. One powerful jerk of his arms and four of the raggedy starvelings were plucked from their places above. The others, shrilling curses, clambered away from the debacle with the ungainly agility of monstrous spiders, abandoning their hapless cronies to whatever fate lay in store for them.

Ganelon quickly subdued his four captives in much the same manner as had Grrff and, turning to see how Phadia fared, was pleased to discover that the resourceful lad had whipped out his knife and had cut himself free. Of them all, only Phadia had not been disarmed by the magnetic tendrils which had captured them.

Gripping his captives by the scruff of the neck, Ganelon floundered to the edge of the immense inflated cushion and slid down it to the floor of the huge, basement-like room in which the greased slides had deposited them. Grrff came at his heels, kicking his unconscious catch along ahead of him, and Phadia brought up the rear.

“A fine welcoming committee!” fumed Grrff, his usually amiable temper severely ruffled for once. “If these skinny varlets be an example of the local citizenry, then we have fallen into a lair of bandits!” He gave his unconscious captives a furious shake, then began searching them curiously.