The Corridors of Time Read Online Free

of mares can
     only be guarded by a stallion – not a gelding.’
    ‘Could be. But a hereditary aristocracy has been tried, and look at its record.’
    ‘Do you think your
soi-disant
democracy has a better one?’
    ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he said. ‘I’d like to be a decadent aristocrat. I just can’t afford to.’
    Her haughtiness dissolved in laughter. ‘Thank you. We were in danger of becoming serious, were we not? And here come the oysters.’
    She chatted so brightly through the meal, and afterward up on the throbbing deck, that he hardly noticed how adroitly she
     had turned the talk away from herself.
    They drove off at Nyborg, on across Fyen, through Hans Christian Andersen’s home town of Odense – ‘But the name means Odin’s
     Lake,’ Storm told Lockridge, ‘and once men were hanged here, in sacrifice to him.’ And at last they crossed the bridge to
     the Jutish peninsula. He offered to take the car, but she refused.
    The land grew bigger when they swung northward, less thickly populated, there were vistas of long hills covered with forest
     or with blooming heather, under a dizzyingly high sky. Sometimes Lockridge glimpsed
Kaempehoje,
dolmens surmounted by rough capstones, stark in the lengthening light. He made some remark about them.
    ‘They go back to the Stone Age, and I hope you remember,’ Storm said. ‘Four thousand years and more ago. Their like may be
     found all down the Atlantic coast and on through the Mediterranean. That was a strong faith.’ Her hands tightened on the wheel;
     she stared straight before her, down the flying ribbon of road. ‘They adored the Triune Goddess, they who brought those burial
     rites here, Her of Whom the Norns were only a pallid memory, Maiden, Mother, and Hellqueen. It was an evil bargain that traded
     Her for the Father of Thunders.’
    Tires hissed on concrete, the split air roared by open windows. Shadows lay deep in the folded uplands. A flight of crows
     winged from a pinewood. ‘She will come again,’ Storm said.
    Lockridge had begun to expect such passages of darkness through her. He made no reply. When they turned toward Holstebro,
     he checked the map and realized with a clutch athis throat that they didn’t have far to go – not unless she meant to skate across the North Sea.
    ‘Maybe you’d better brief me now,’ he suggested.
    Her face and voice were alike uninterpretable. ‘There is little to tell you. I have already reconnoitered. We need expect
     no trouble at the tunnel entrance. Further along, perhaps —’ Intensity flashed forth. She gripped his arm so hard that her
     fingernails pained him. ‘Be prepared for surprises. I have not told you every detail, because the attempt to understand would
     engage too much of your mind. If we meet an emergency, you must not stop to wonder, you must simply react. Do you see?’
    ‘I – I reckon so.’ It was good karate psychology, he knew. But— No, damnation, I’m committed. Crazy, stupid, quixotic, whatever
     you want to call me, I’m on her side – with no more advance warnin’ than this – whatever happens!
    The blood raced in him. His hands felt cold.
    Not far beyond Holstebro, Storm turned off the pavement. A dirt road snaked west among fields that presently gave way on the
     right side to a timber plantation. She pulled over to the shoulder and stopped the engine. Silence flowed across the world.

CHAPTER THREE
    Lockridge stirred. ‘Shall we —’
    ‘Hush!’ Storm’s hand chopped at his words. From the glove compartment she took a small thick disc. Colors played oddly over
     one face. She shifted it about, her head bent between sable wings of hair to study the hues. He saw her relax. ‘Very well,’
     she muttered. ‘We can proceed.’
    ‘What is that thing?’ Lockridge reached for it.
    She didn’t hand it over. ‘An indicator,’ she said curtly. ‘Move! The area is safe
now.’
    He reminded himself of his resolution to go along with anything she wanted.