“I will leave alive, and so will my men,” Jason said firmly. “Nothing will stop us.”

“Merzano shall,” she cried, casting a handful of powder. “If you will not stay, then die at the hand of the Protector of the Enchanted Islands.”

There was a puff of acrid green smoke when the powder struck the floor. It billowed toward the ceiling, then settled back to form a column of dense green swirling mist about three eters high and as wide. Flashes of red light burst from the sides of the mists.

“Merzano, Protector of the Enchanted Islands, answer the cry of your Enchantress. Protect these islands from the intrusions of this alien warrior from beyond the mists. Strike him down so that none will follow his path. His warriors have been subjugated in accordance to the rules of Dagon and Derceto; let their leader now follow the path chosen for those who will not obey the Enchantress. Destroy him.”

Jason’s hand fell to his waist and settled around the hilt of the Sword of Thoran. What sort of evil beings were these that the Enchantress had summoned? He prayed that the amulet and the Sword of Thoran would combine to ensure his safety once again.

The mists swirled, slowly dispersing. A towering shadowy figure stood in the middle. The mists cleared more. Jason gasped as the nightmare shape of the Protector was revealed.

It towered three eters into the air, balanced on several slimy tentacles. Instead of two arms, six sprouted from around the body, each equipped with a ferocious weapon—each different, each lethal if it struck his unprotected body. One carried a sword with a razor-sharp, double-edged blade, another a double-sided axe as large as the Axe of Thoran. There was a large metal ball covered with long metal spikes, a spear with a blade almost half an eter long. A large wooden club with heavy metal studs and three balls connected by a metal chain completed the arsenal.

The creature’s head, squat and ugly, was on the end of a long flexible neck that appeared able to swivel and follow the action on any side it choose without having to turn its body.

“Why don’t you run, Warrior?” the Enchantress mocked.

“I never run from a nightmare,” Jason said, stalking toward the creature, his eyes carefully studying it for any weak point. The head swiveled, following him as he circled it. As he came opposite each arm, it tried to cut him down. He remained just out of reach, the mighty sword at the ready.

Suddenly he was there no more, hidden by the cloak of invisibility.

The Enchantress screamed in frustrated anger. Her prey had escaped. Her scream was echoed by the Protector as first the spear arm and then the arm with the three balls and chain fell to the ground, severed at the shoulder. The other arms swung their weapons in random, seeking the unseen enemy.

“Show yourself,” the Enchantress screamed. “How can the Protector fight if you remain hidden?”