Conan ran a strip of rag down the length of bloody sword and thought again of the unpleasantly warm jewel he had stolen-or was that stolen back?-that now nestled in a pouch hidden beneath his cuirass. What had the archer called it?

The Ka Stone. That was it.

He grunted and sheathed his sword. It was a cursed thing, he knew that much. He’d seen enough of those to last any man a lifetime. But then, it also wasn’t his problem. It was Nybastes’ problem. Conan smiled as he thought of the coin pouch that the fat Kothian had promised him. Wine and women for weeks.

“Share the joke?”

Conan turned, his smile fading. The archer-Hawkeye, he called himself-stood grinning at him, bow held lengthwise across his shoulders.

“No joke.” Conan shrugged.

“Yeah, you don’t look like you laugh much.”

“Cimmerians are somber by nature.”

“I haven’t thanked you yet for getting us this job...” Hawkeye said. Conan gave a bark of laughter.

“Ha! I didn’t do it for you! The Kothians don’t hire individual guards anymore.”

"Yeah..." Hawkeye looked around. "Look, when we get to Kush, I'd like to go with you to see this Nybastes guy-”

“Do as you will, archer. I’ll not say no.” Conan clasped his sword hilt and shook it slightly. “But play me false, and I’ll-”

“Point made, big man.” Hawkeye held up his hands and grinned. Conan grunted and turned on his heel. As he strode away, Zelda joined Hawkeye.

“Brute,” she said. Hawkeye shook his head.

“Not as much as he plays.”

“Why are we here, Barton?” Zelda asked suddenly, stroking Glaucon’s jaw. “It’s been bothering me-”

“Me too.” Hawkeye shaded his eyes and looked up, watching as the vultures began to circle. “Could have been an accident. Never can tell with this cosmic whammy stuff. Or it could be something having to do with Chthon, some plan of his-its-I don’t know. Probably explains why we can understand the folks here-”

“So to speak,” Zelda murmured.

“Yeah. Regardless, we’re not sticking around to find out. I’d bet my last arrow that we can use the Ka Stone to send us home. If the Sphinx will help. Which is a big ‘if’ I admit...” Hawkeye looked down, frowning. “But unless we can flag down Kang, that’s our best option so far.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Zelda sounded dubious. “Might be easier just to take our chances here, though...”

---

Meroe. Capital city of Kush.

“Nybastessss...”

Nybastes the merchant flinched as the oily, silken voice echoed throughout the room. It was a horrible sound, that voice. It reminded him of snakes coiling in the dark. He swallowed and put down his wine goblet.

“Did they-”

“No.”

Nybastes cursed. The bandits had been cheap enough to hire, but his thrifty soul quailed at the wasted money. It quailed more at the thought of what consequences failure might bring.

“And your master?”

“Unhappy.” The voice sounded amused. “But he understandsss...”

“Of course he does,” Nybastes said, bitterly. “He’s faced the Cimmerian before, hasn’t he?”

“You know not of what you ssspeak, Nybastessss.” There was a tone of warning there and Nybastes heeded it. He took a shaky gulp of wine and watched the shadows in the corner of his room undulate.

“More bandits, then? There are plenty of penniless swords between here and the city gates. Even the Cimmerian cannot be lucky all the time.”

“Yesss, hire your ssswords and we will do the sssame...”

“You? But I thought-” Nybastes fell silent as the shadows dissipated as if they had never been. He drained his goblet and rubbed his face tiredly. It was a devil’s bargain sure enough and one he’d almost ruined when he’d unwittingly hired the Cimmerian. He didn’t know what the barbarian had done to anger his mysterious benefactors, but when they’d heard his name, they’d nearly killed Nybastes in their rage.

They’d do worse to the Cimmerian though. Poor brute.

Nybastes poured himself another cup of wine and stared out the window. Conan had sent word, as promised. If he didn’t die in the hills, he’d reach Meroe in four days.

It never paid to underestimate men like that.

A few minutes later, Nybastes summoned his servant and sent him to look for a certain person. One who was in Meroe on other business, but who would surely be in need of the coin Nybastes could provide. And one who could be trusted to kill the Cimmerian, if all else failed.

---

Elsewhere, three days from Meroe.

The man who would be called the Sphinx in another time and another place, staggered and fell. His body was weakening, and quickly. He was not in his proper time or his proper place and he was dying.

And it was all Rama-Tut’s fault.

Graying fists clenched, he pushed himself up, crimson eyes blazing. He reared back, arms raised, and bellowed in frustration. It was a weak bellow, but nonetheless it echoed through the hills.

It had been an idiotic plan, and he cursed himself for being talked into it. Two Ka Stones, stones from different realities, merged and blended into a God Machine, a device that could shatter time itself and rewrite everything to the liking of the wielder.

And now one of the stones was in the hands of a demon and the other...the other? The other was his. He would get it back. And then, then he would show the beast who had dared oppose them what the price of such folly was.

The sorcerer would pay. He and his petty god. And then this world would be his.

“Do you hear me, Thoth-Amon? Do you hear me, Set? The SPHINX WILL DESTROY YOU!”

---

Stygia. The Temple of Set.

“Do you dream, pilgrim of time? Or do you merely slumber on, oblivious?” the man called Thoth-Amon said softly, fingers trailing down the surface of the crystal prison that contained the contorted shape of the man known to some as Rama-Tut. The High-Priest of Set stepped back and rubbed idly at the large ruby ring on his finger.

“My guess? The latter. Being ripped out of time has that effect on a being,” a high-pitched voice said slyly. Thoth-Amon turned and grimaced at the sight of the tiny, hooded and robed figure that limped towards him, eyes gleaming in the darkness of its hood.

“Vile dwarf. He is useless to us, thanks to you.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” the creature said. “Set may yet find a use for him, though, O’ Mighty Thoth-Amon.” A giggle erupted from the hood. “As will my own master...”

“Aye,” Thoth-Amon said, eyes narrowed. “Set and Chthon are brothers true, e’en in this day and age, Dwarf.”

“Goooood.” The Dwarf hopped from one foot to the other, shuffling beneath his robe. “Let it never be said that Chthon doubted his brother!”

“No,” Thoth-Amon said, frowning. “Let it never be said.”

The Dwarf capered past the priest and up the stairs towards Rama-Tut’s petrified form. Thoth-Amon watched the creature and repressed a grunt of disgust. The servants of Chthon were ever foul in both body and mind. His own master was more beautiful of purpose. The sorcerer-priest rubbed his ruby ring, a section of the magic stone that the Dwarf had helped him acquire with the aid of the Sons of Set.

If Nybastes could acquire the other, then perhaps the Dwarf could be discarded of...once and for all. There might be familial bonds between Elder Gods, but between their servants their was only the bitterest of rivalry. At least in this place and time. Maybe it wasn’t so in the age the Dwarf came from. But Thoth-Amon did not trust him regardless.

Yes, the Dwarf would have to be disposed of. And when Thoth-Amon had the second Ka Stone, he would see to it personally.

---

The road to Meroe. Five days out.

Conan rode silently, dark eyes scanning the forested hills. Night was falling, but that, if anything, only made him more alert. The black tribes were regular pillagers of the caravans from Koth and Nubia. He knew this because in his younger years he had led quite a few of those raiders himself.

“Worried?” Hawkeye asked.

“No.” Conan didn’t look at the Avenger. Hawkeye nodded.

“Ready, then?”

“Aye.”

“Don’t talk much, do you?”

“No.”

“You’re fun to be around, you know?” Hawkeye said. Conan shot him a glare. Hawkeye ignored it. For his part, he enjoyed needling the barbarian. Conan reminded him, strangely enough, of Captain America. Both men were warriors and leaders, and expected others to follow them. Granted, Cap smiled every so often, but the similarities were there. Eyes that had seen a lot of unpleasant things.

“If you think to make me lower my guard-” Conan snarled. Hawkeye laughed.

“Buddy, I might want that rock, but not enough to tangle with you!”

“So you say, but-”

An arrow slammed into the rump of Conan’s horse, sending it a paroxysm of wild bucking. Conan was thrown from his saddle and he hit the ground hard and rolled to his feet, sword singing from his sheath.

Hawkeye turned in his saddle, firing an arrow into the figures whooping out of the hills. Riding stolen ponies, the Kushian brigands swarmed around the caravan, firing bows and hurling spears.

Hawkeye leapt out of the saddle and popped to his feet, firing as he sought cover. Two Kushians flipped off of their ponies and third swept past, spear cutting for the Avenger’s heart.

Conan cut the head from the spear, then did the same to its wielder. Kicking the body from the saddle, Conan swung up, teeth bared in a grimace. “Guard yourself archer! You must live if you want to claim this stone!”

“Yeah, I-” Hawkeye began, then turned as something behind him hissed. Conan’s eyes widened and Hawkeye’s jaw dropped as the shadows under the wagon he crouched behind suddenly boiled and struck out at him, nebulous tendrils darting for the archer’s throat!

---

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

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Next issue: But not next issue! Sorry folks, but it’s time to catch back up with the other Whackos next issue as they battle the twin menaces of the Emissaries of Evil and the Big Wheel! Be here in thirty for ’GRINDER’!

 

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