(eng) Mickey Zucker Reichert - Bifrost Guardians 03 by Dragonrank Master (1989 DAW)

Author:Dragonrank Master (1989, DAW) [Master, Dragonrank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8: Masters of the Mind

"What is life? A madness. What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story. And the greatest good is little enough: for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams."

—Pedro Calderon de la Barca Life is a Dream

Larson rolled over in his sleep. Immediately, darkness enfolded his consciousness. He found himself in blackness as thick, heavy, and tangible as pitch. All memory escaped him. He stood, blind and disoriented, heart pounding with apprehension. He tensed to a crouch, felt the searing presence of enemy eyes watching, unseen, from the impenetrable night. Somehow they could see him, he had no doubt.

Suddenly, a wolf howled behind him, a wordless, exultant song of evil. Larson whirled. Pain hammered his body; his chest spasmed, making every breath painful. A second howl sounded, louder, contemptuous, and directly across from the first. He spun again. Before he could react to the dull chorus of aches, another howl rent the air to his right, closer now. Larson twisted toward it. He backstepped, clawing the air behind him for a barrier against which to press his back. His fingers met empty space, and another howl shattered the silence directly behind him.

Larson leaped in surprise. His foot came down on a root. His ankle rocked sideways, and he tumbled to the ground. He floundered through darkness to his hands and knees, tensed to rise, and found himself gazing into blazing crimson eyes. He screamed, staggered back, and again tripped over the root, now behind him. He fell, hard, on his spine and stared up at a row of saliva-slicked, yellowed teeth, each as long and sharp as a saber.

Larson threw back his head and bellowed with fright. He lurched away from the creature, sparking a fresh wave of agony through his chest and hip. Foul breath struck his face, and he saw that the beast, and all its teeth, had swerved with him. Pain. Larson panted. Damn this pain. If this is a dream, why do I feel so much goddamned pain? The thought electrified him. All fear drained away. His sense of self returned, hot and strong within him, and he recognized the pain as the bruises from his battle with Fenrir. He clambered to his feet, oblivious to the wolf which threatened him with jaws widely-hinged. "You've lost, Fenrir! This time, you're not real. You're nothing but an intruder in my dreams tonight, and I know you cannot hurt me." Larson's words echoed through the vast cavern of his mind.

The darkness fell away, revealing the heavily-muscled form of the Fenris wolf. Clotted blood darkened one shoulder, but its red eyes glowed with life. It growled, deep in its throat. "Allerum. Even in your own thoughts, I am stronger than you!" As it spoke the last syllable, it sprang toward Larson's dream-form, lashing at the twisted coils of thought.

Despite his bold words, Larson dodged aside instinctively. The wolf struck a glancing blow which knocked him to the ground. The fall stole his breath and his courage.

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