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Updated: June 16, 2025
Sather Karf nodded. "Perhaps. And perhaps your group was also right, Bork. It seems that the world-egg has hatched." His eyes lifted and centered on the doorway. Hanson puzzled over their words briefly as he closed the door and went out with Nema. He'd probably have to do something about his name, but the rest of the conversation was a mystery to him. Then he dismissed it.
"Hatching is probably always horrible from inside the shell," Bork answered. "Do you still want to join us? No, I thought not. Well, then, let's go back. We might as well try to eat something while I think about what to do with you." Malok and most of the others were gone when they reached the cave again.
Bork fell to work with some scraps of food, cursing the configurations of the planets as his spell refused to work. Then suddenly the scraps became a mass of sour-smelling stuff. Bork made a face as he tasted it, but he ate it in silence. Dave couldn't force himself to put it in his mouth, though he was hungry by then. He considered, and then snapped his fingers. "Abracadabra," he cried.
When he had tired himself out, I communicated what his Highness had so nobly commanded to be done, and prayed him to relate all he knew and could remember of this detestable sorceress, Sidonia von Bork. He sighed deeply, and then went on talking for about two hours, giving me all his recollections just as they started to his memory. I have arranged what he then related, in proper order.
The man called Bork halted the series of rapid passes he had been making, flexing his fingers with a grimace. The spinning egg began to drop at once, but he let out a long, keening cry, adding a slight flip of his other arm. Outside, something like a mist drew near and swirled around them. It looked huge to Dave, but must have been a small thing in fact.
A few men were just planning to leave, and they looked at Dave suspiciously, but made no protest. One, whom Dave recognized as the leader with the snetha-knife, scowled. "The risings are almost due, Bork," he said. Bork nodded. "I know, Malok. I've decided to let Dave Hanson watch. Dave, this is our leader here, Res Malok."
He suspected Bork was putting the spell on her for her own good, and he agreed that she was better out of all this. "Now where were we?" Bork asked. "Oh, yes, I was trying to convert you and knowing I'd failed already. Of course, I don't know that they killed you first but those are their methods. Take it from me, I know. I was the youngest Ser ever to be accepted for training as a Sather.
When we returned home weary enough in the evening, a letter arrived from Otto von Bork, inviting him the following day to a bear-hunt; as he intended, in honour of the nuptials of his eldest daughter Clara, to lay bears' heads and bears' paws before his guests, which even in Pomerania would have been a rarity, and desiring him to bring as many good huntsmen with him as he pleased.
The huge bird braked savagely, barely stopping before they were under its feet. From its back, a ladder of some flexible material snaked down and men began descending. The first were mandrakes in the uniform of the Satheri, all carrying weapons with evil-looking blades or sharp stickers. The last man off was Bork. He came toward Hanson and Nema with a broad grin on his face.
Bork seemed surprised at Hanson's tone. "There have always been such columns connecting the world and the sky. What else would keep us from falling?" Hanson swore. He might have guessed it! The only wonder was that simple rods were used instead of elephants and turtles.
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