Thongor and the Wizard of Lemuria by Lin Carter Read Free Book Online Page A

cavern’s floor rose to meet them in glassy humps formed by centuries and aeons of those slow, calcareous drippings. Here and there amid the fantastic stone forest, pits of fire glowed, and occasionally Thongor saw a jet of the yellow flame which rose from the volcanic world of fire that burned far below Lemuria, and which, prophets claimed, would someday destroy the continent, sinking it beneath the sea.
    “Come.”
    Thongor followed the wizard, who led him through the stalagmites. Weird light from the firepits painted their rounded glassiness with flickering, fantastic colors. Alertly glancing around, and with one hand resting lightly on the pommel of his broadsword, Thongor strode after the wizard.
    It was like a maze in which one who did not know his way would soon become lost and might well wander for many hours. Sharajsha led him through the stone forest and beyond, where a deep channel cut through the cavern floor. Through this channel a sluggish trickle of hot lava flowed like a river of liquid fire. The slow fluid was cherry-red, and tiny yellow flames flickered about its wrinkled, mud-like surface. The heat rose to smothering temperatures and clouds of thick oily smoke made Thongor’s eyes smart. A stone arch spanned the glowing stream, and by this natural bridge they crossed the river of fire. Beyond the lava river the cavern floor rose in a wall. It had been carved into a shallow flight of steps leading to a great iron door set into the wall and rust-red in color. Rude gryphons cut from the same rock as the floor flanked the stair. Thongor glimpsed strange yellow gems set like eyes within the rough stone heads. Was it his imagination, or did a weird spark of intelligence flicker within the jewels? With a prickling of his flesh, he sensed that at a word the wizard by his side could summon life into those monstrous stone bodies, calling them to his aid.
    Sharajsha pressed an iron ring against the portal, and with a groan of giant hinges, the huge valves of the gate opened slowly.
    Within, the solid mountain had been hewn into a long hall. At its further end, a dais of seven steps was set against the wall and bore a great throne-like chair of dead-black stone. A long wooden table stood in the center of the hall. Candelabra of pure gold flickered at either end. Benches were drawn before it. The walls were broken with curtained doorways leading off into other chambers of the subterranean palace, and here and there along the wall and between the doorways, cabinets and chests of wood bore strange secrets. A great circular pit of roaring fire stood before the dais.
    “Be welcome in my home,” the wizard said.
    * * * *
    Hours later, Thongor and his host feasted at the table in the underground hall. Invisible servants had bathed Thongor’s tired body in scented warm water. Soothing salves had cleansed and healed his cuts and wounds. He had slept away most of the afternoon and early nightfall on a soft bed, waking with a ravenous appetite.
    Thongor’s suspicions were relaxing. And the wizard spread a fine table. Roast bouphar swam in rich, steaming gravy, with succulent, although nameless, fish from subterranean streams. Bowls of weird jungle fruit and platters of sweetmeats were there, and he washed down all with fine wines of classic vintage.
    As they feasted, they talked. The wizard listened to his adventures with a wry half-smile. He expressed great curiosity over the mechanism of the airboat, and strongly desired to see it.
    “I am not unfamiliar with this Oolim Phon,” he said thoughtfully. “His mastery of the alchemystical art has come to my knowledge. But he errs in lending his wisdom to the service of an ambitious, warlike Sark such as this Phal Thurid—whose reputation I am also aware of, and his plans to conquer the seacoast cities. Magic is knowledge. Knowledge possessed by ambition is power. And such power, placed in strong hands, could bring all of Lemuria beneath one bloody tyranny. But tell me more