Slowly, through the death-thick waters, they managed to steer a north-westerly course towards Sorcerers' Isle as douda of steam formed on the ocean and obscured their view.

Hours later they had left the heated waters behind and were sailing beneath clear skies on a calm sea. They allowed themselves to doze. In less than a day they would reach Sorcerers' Isle, but now they were overcome by the reaction to their experience and wondered, dazedly, how they had lived through the awful storm.

Elric jerked his eyes open with a shock. He was certain he had not slept long, yet the sky was dark and a cold drizzle was falling. As the drops touched his head and face, they oozed down it like viscous jelly. Some of it entered his mouth and he lustily spat out the bitter-tasting stuff.

«Moonglum, » he called through the gloom, «what’s the hour, do you know?»

The Eastlander's deep-heavy voice answered dazedly. «I know not. I'd swear it is not night already! »

Elric gave the tiller a tentative push - and the boat did not respond. He looked over the side and it seemed they were sailing through the sky itself. A dully luminous gas seemed to swirl about the hull, but he could see no water.

He shuddered. Had they left the confines of the Garth? Were they sailing through some frightful, supernatural sea?

He cursed himself for sleeping, feeling helpless-more helpless than when he had fought the storm. The heavy, gelatinous rain beat down strongly and he pulled the hood of his cloak over his white hair. From his belt pouch he took lint and tinder and the tiny light was just sufficient to show him Moonglum's half-mad eyes. The little Eastlander's face was taut with fear. Elric had never seen such fear on his friend's face and knew that with a little less self-control his own face would assume a similar expression.

«Our time has ended, » Moonglum trembled, »I fear that we're dead, at last, Elric.»

«Don't prattle such emptiness, Moonglum. I have heard of no after-life such as this.» But secretly, Elric wondered if Moonglum's words were true.

The ship seemed to be moving rapidly through the gaseous sea, being driven or drawn to some unknown destination. Yet Elric could swear that the Masters of Chaos had no knowledge of his boat.

Faster and faster the little craft moved and then, with relief, they heard the familiar splash of water about its keel and it was surging through the salt-sea again. For a short while longer the viscous rain continued to fall and then even that was past.

Moonglum sighed as the blackness slowly gave way to light and they saw again a normal ocean about them.

«What was it, then?» he ventured, finally.

«Another manifestation of ruptured nature, » Elric said with attempted calmness. «Some warp in the barrier between the realm of men and the realm of Chaos, perhaps? Don't question our luck in surviving it. We are again off-comso and, » he pointed to the horizon, »a natural storm seems to be brewing yonder.»

«A natural storm I can accept, no matter how dangerous, » the Eastlander murmured and made swift preparations, furling the sail as the wind increased and the sea churned.

In a way, Elric welcomed the storm when it finally struck them. At least it obeyed natural laws and could be fought by natural means and experience of similar storms in the past.

The rain refreshed their faces, the wind swept through their hair and they fought the storm with fierce enjoyment, the plucky boat riding the waves.

But, in spite of this, they were being driven further and further north-east-towards the conquered coasts of Shazar. almost in the opposite direction to their goal.

The healthy storm raged on until at thoughts of destiny and supernatural danger were driven from their minds and their muscles ached and nicy gasped with the shock of cold waves on their drenched bodies.

The boat reeled and rocked, their hands were sore from the tightness of their grip on wood and rope, but it was as if Fate had singled them out to live, or perhaps for a death not would be less dean, for they continued to ride tile heaving waters.

Then, with a shock, Elric saw rocks rearing and Moonglum shouted in recognition:

'The Serpent's Teeth! »

The Serpent's Teeth lay close to Shazar and were one of the most feared hazards of the shore-hugging traders of the West. Elric and Moonglum had seen them before, from a distance, but now the storm was driving them nearer and nearer, and though they struggled to keep the boat away, they seemed bound to be smashed to their deaths on the jagged rocks.

A wave surged under the boat, lifted them and bore them down. Elric dung to the side of the boat and thought he heard Moonglum's wild shout above the noise of the storm before they were flung towards the Serpent's Teeth.

«Farewell.»

And then were was the terrifying sound of smashing timbers, the feel of sharp rock lacerating his rolling body and he was beneath the waves fighting his way to the surface to gasp in a handful of air before another wave tossed him and grazed his arm against the rocks.

Desperately, encumbered by the life-giving runesword at his belt, he attempted to swim for the looming cliffs of Shazar, conscious that even if he lived he had arrived on enemy soil and his chances of reaching the White Iurds were now almost non-existent.

Elric lay exhausted on the cold Shingle listening to the musical sound that the tide made as it drew back, over the stones.

Another sound joined that of the surf, and he recognised it as the crunch of boots. Someone was coming towards him. In Shazar it was most likely to be an enemy. He rolled over and began scrambling to his feet, drawing the last reserves from his worn-out body. His right hand had. half-drawn Stormbringer from its scabbard before he realised dial it was Moonglum, bent with weakness, standing grinning before him.

«Thank the gods, you live! » Moonglum lowered himself to the shingle and leaned back with his arms supporting him, regarding the now calm sea and the towering Serpent's Teeth in the distance.

«Aye, we live, » Elric said, squatting down moodily. «But for bow long in this ruined land I cannot guess. Somewhere, perhaps, we can find a ship-but it will mean seeking a town or city and we're a marked pair, easily recognised by our physical appearance.»

Moonglum shook his head and laughed lightly. «You're still the gloomy one, friend. Be thankful for your life, say I.»

«Small mercies are all but useless in this conflict, » Elric said. «Rest, now, Moonglum while I watch, then you can take my place. There was no time to lose when we began this venture and now we've lost days.»

Moonglum gave no argument, but allowed himself immediately to sleep and when he awoke, much refreshed though aching horribly, Elric slept until the moon was high and shining brightly in a dear sky.

They trudged through the night, the sparse grass of the coast region giving way to wet, blackened ground. It was as if a holocaust had raged over the countryside, followed by a rainstorm which had left behind it a marsh of ashes. Remembering the grassy plains of his part of Shazar, Elric was horrified, unable to ten whether men or the creatures of Chaos' had caused such wanton ruin.

Noon was approaching with a hint of weird disturbances in the bright-clowded Sky, when they saw a long line of people approaching them. They flattened themselves behind a small rise and peered cautiously over it as the party drew nearer. These were no enemy soldiers, but gaunt women and starving children, men who staggered in rags and a few battered riders, obviously the remnants of some defeated band of partisans who had held out against Pan Tang.

«I think we'll find friends, of sorts, here, » Elric muttered thankfully, »and perhaps some information which will help us.»