Bearing an Hourglass (27 page)

The Elf spat to the side. “Who would want a completely tame steed? That were as tasteless as a completely tame woman! He must be tame only for his master. Mistress.”

Norton nodded. A steed no one could steal, who would be as wild to strangers as he was now, unless cautioned by the one he respected. That did make sense. Perhaps the Alicorn was tame now for a former master, who had died or gotten lost. “If I discover the Word and whisper it to Excelsia, and then she speaks it aloud to the Alicorn—?”

Squeeze.

Now he had it straight. But one thing still bothered him. “If Sning knows the Word, the Evil Sorceress must have known it, too. I mean, she
was
a Sorceress and she had magical sources of information. Yet she never used the Word. She must have had reason.”

Excelsia had stood silently all the while, adoring the Alicorn through the hole in the fence. Now she looked at Norton. “She surely would have used it if she could!”

“True, Sning?”

Squeeze.

“She knew it and could not say it?”

Squeeze.

“There’s no actual danger in using the Word—apart from making sure the right person uses it?”

Squeeze.

“And once that person uses it, it can’t be used again, so no one else can take away the Alicorn’s loyalty?”

Squeeze.

Until, perhaps, that person died, leaving the Alicorn free again. It was a firm commitment.

Squeeze.

Norton shook his head. “The Evil Sorceress certainly would have
wanted
to use it. Was she physically incapable of pronouncing it?”

Squeeze, squeeze.

“Emotionally incapable?”

Squeeze.

“Ah!” Excelsia exclaimed, clapping her hands. “I can guess what Word she could not say! The one that countered her nature!”

“She was a creature of hate,” the Elf agreed.

Norton thought back to the moment of Sning’s first warning on this subject. He had been commenting about Sning, who had been given to him by Orlene, the one he—

Excelsia marched up to the Alicorn. The beast braced, ready for his devastating attack. “Love!” she cried.

The Alicorn shuddered. Then he furled his wings and bowed his head until the terrible horn touched the battered earth.

“It could be a ruse!” Norton warned.

Squeeze, squeeze.

Excelsia approached the stallion and put her small fair hand on his muscular shoulder near where one of his wings sprouted. “Love,” she repeated softly. He lifted his head and brought his nose around to nuzzle her neck. He had indeed been tamed.

She stooped to untie the knotted silver chain from his hind leg. Her human hands could do what neither his hooves nor his horn could. In a moment he was free—but he did not move. He waited for her directive.

The Elf walked toward them. Instantly the Alicorn was alert. His wings unfurled and his horn took a bead on the intruder. A small puff of fire showed at his nostrils.

“It’s all right, Alicorn,” Excelsia said. “These are my friends.”

The creature relaxed. If she said it was all right, it was all right, for her word was his law. But woe betide the one she did not speak for!

Excelsia jumped up on the steed’s back, managing to achieve a sidesaddle position though there was no saddle. Norton knew how difficult it could be to mount a standing horse without the aid of a stirrup. Perhaps she had a little magic of her own—the magic of Damsel with Equine.

“Oh, I’m so happy!” Excelsia cried, waving to Norton and the Elf. “Onward and upward, Alicorn!”

The Alicorn spread his great white wings, pumped them, and launched himself into the air. There was hardly any downdraft; most of his impetus was magic. In moments Damsel and stallion were high aloft.

“Well, the job’s done, the adventure complete,” the Elf remarked. He held out his hand. “You won’t be needing the Enchanted Sword any more.”

Norton stared at the diminishing speck in the sky. Somehow he had expected more thanks for his effort than this. “I suppose not.” He handed the Sword over.

The Elf took it by mid-blade and held it up over his head, horizontally. A mud-puddle began to form around his feet. Slowly he sank into it.

“But I thought you didn’t like mud!” Norton protested.

“I don’t,” the Elf agreed, sinking further. “But that’s fantasy for you. The Damsel gets to fly, while the Elf gets stuck in the mud.”

Something caught the corner of Norton’s eye. He looked around. The slain Dragon was reviving!

“Hey, wait, Elf! I have further use for that Sword!”

The Elf’s descent into the widening puddle paused. “What for? You’re finished with the Quest.”

“The Dragon! He’s not quite dead!”

“Of course he’s not quite dead! He’s immortal! He dies only for an hour, then he resumes his post. Naturally he’ll be somewhat irritated by the loss of the Alicorn he guarded—but that’s a new Quest.”

“But that means I need a weapon!”

“Nah. You won’t be staying long. Otherwise you’d be worrying about when the Evil Sorceress revives. It takes her two hours, ’cause she’s worse; but when she does, hoo man!”

Norton looked wildly at the fallen castle. Sure enough, it was beginning to re-form from the mound of slime. “None of this destruction was permanent? It’s all coming back?”

There was no response. He looked—and the Elf was gone. Only his hat and the Enchanted Sword remained above the mud, and in a moment they, too, sank out of sight.

Norton felt very much alone. Now he was without weapon or companions—and the Dragon was climbing to its fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs, larger than ever and quite annoyed. Norton would have to cross the Dragon’s path to escape this region.

Squeeze.

Suddenly he felt better. “Sning! I’ve still got you!”

Then he drifted from the planet and zoomed back toward his own realm. This visit was over—none too soon.

–10–

Satan was waiting for him again as he returned. “Did you enjoy yourself?” the Prince of Evil inquired politely.

Norton looked at him narrowly. “You don’t know?”

“My dear associate! How could I?”

“You sent me there. You ought to be able to tell how things are. Otherwise how could you be sure you weren’t sending me to my doom?”

“One Incarnation can not harm another.”

“Without the other’s consent. If you placed me in a challenging situation and I failed to meet that challenge, would that constitute my consent for harm?”

“There is no danger to you in the fantasy scheme! It is nothing but a living adventure.”

“I thought that was rather convenient,” Norton said. “I arrive just in time for a classic fantasy adventure, complete with Damsel in Distress, Enchanted Sword, sturdy Elf, Evil Sorceress, Dragon, and Alicorn. True chance would have had me land in a barren wilderness. And my prior trip, too—with spaceman, Bem, psi powers, shape-changing, and wreck on an alien planet. Another arranged adventure.”

“Well, My clients would not be interested in dull vacations,”
Satan pointed out. “I try to reward them well for their services to Me. Heaven, you know, is a pretty dull place; My settings have the excitement of challenge and success.”

“So others have interacted with Bat Dursten and his Bems, and with Excelsia and her Alicorn?”

Satan looked modestly uncomfortable. “Or reasonable facsimiles thereof,” he agreed. “There is no harm in it, and a scripted adventure is, after all, an aspect of My specialty: an interesting and amusing fabrication.”

“Yes, I remember. You are the Father of Lies.”

“Certainly. Fiction is but an accepted lie, and so it is My business. People have been brainwashed into supposing that there can be no benefit in lies, but lies of this nature can be exceptionally rewarding. If you would care to visit other settings, such as the Wild West, or Mystery Sleuth, or Complex Historical, or Torrid Romance—”

“The antimatter frame has quite a spread of habitats!”

“Indeed. Plenty of room for all My favored friends.” Satan leaned forward persuasively. “There are many scenarios within each setting, too. If, for example, you found Excelsia attractive, We could arrange for her to—”

“Never mind that.” Norton had indeed found her attractive, but didn’t care to have Satan know it. “If you have such an excellent way to reward your minions, why do you need to bother with me? Your friend in your past—”

“Ah, you checked him? Did you discover any flaw in the life I contemplate for him?”

“No. I just don’t follow your motive. Why not send him to delights in the globular cluster or the Magic-Lantern Cloud, instead of taking all this trouble with me?”

Satan shrugged. “I suppose I could. But I have promised him a happy life in this world and I always keep My promises.”

Norton hesitated. He did not trust the Father of Lies, yet this particular case did seem to check out. “I’ll give it further consideration.”

Satan stood. “As you wish, Chronos.” He turned about
in place and, somehow, by the time he completed the turn, he was gone.

Norton took a meal and a snooze. He wasn’t sure how much objective time had passed, in whatever direction, or what day it might now be beyond his mansion, but he himself had been quite active.

In due course Clotho showed up. She stepped into his arms immediately and kissed him, then hesitated. “Or is this too soon for you now, in your lifeline?”

Norton realized that there had been, or would be—depending on viewpoint—a romance between them. He still loved Orlene but knew that was over. He had been intrigued by Excelsia, but did not want to get involved in such fashion with a creature who played roles for Satan. Clotho he trusted. “I think it is right for me now,” he said. “But it’s newer to me than to you.”

“There was a time when it was otherwise,” she said, smiling. “This will be my pleasure.”

Indeed, she led him through a quite satisfactory liaison, for she was conversant with what pleased him, including some things he hadn’t known before would please him. He realized he was going to enjoy experiencing the other encounters she remembered. His separation from his past was now virtually complete. Clotho was excellent medicine … except for those knowing eyes.

Then they set up for the day’s work. For this, Clotho shifted to Lachesis, who glanced at him obliquely while pretending to be ignorant of what her other aspect had just been doing. Then she put her spread-fingered hands together to draw out the first cat’s cradle of crossed threads. She paused. “That’s odd.”

“You have a tangle?”

“A crossed set, where there shouldn’t be.” She frowned, trying to make it out.

“That reminds me. Satan wants a favor, and I checked it, and it seems all right. But maybe I should consult with you, just in case it disturbs your threads.”

She looked up from her network. “That would be wise. Satan must never be trusted. He builds deceit upon deceit, until reality disappears.”

“It’s a favor for a man about twenty years in your past. He had a chance to meet and marry a lovely and wealthy young woman, but missed it and committed suicide instead. Satan wants to reverse that so the man can have a good life.”

“Suicide,” she said. She shifted to Atropos. “That’s my department,” the old woman said. “And Thanatos’. I schedule the terminations, he executes them.” She moved her fingers in intricate patterns, conjuring threads. “Specific space-time address?”

Norton gave it. She zeroed in. “Got it. There’s the severed thread. He—great Heaven!”

“What’s the matter?”

“That’s Thanatos!”

“Yes, he would have collected the soul.”

“Not that. This life—it’s the mortal man who assumed the current office of Thanatos, just as you assumed the office of Chronos. He didn’t suicide; he killed the prior officeholder. That’s how that office changes hands.”

“They murder their predecessors?” Norton asked with horror.

“Thanatos deals in death,” she said grimly. “Nevertheless, the current Thanatos is a good one—perhaps one of the best. He cares for his clients in a way that others of his office did not; and he did balk Satan in a critical situation, thereby preserving the scheme of the world as we know it. It would be disastrous to allow Satan to eliminate him!”

“I thought Satan couldn’t harm other Incarnations!”

She collapsed her network of threads and put one withered hand on his. “Dear boy,” Atropos said. “Satan never allows himself to be bound by any law he can circumvent, and he is the ultimate master of circumvention. There are ways and ways.”

“But how—?”

“If you take his minion to that nexus and the minion persuades the man named Zane to buy the Lovestone and win the lovely young woman—” Her old eyes seemed to sparkle. “You young men do like lovely young women,
don’t you! I can’t imagine what for.” When he did not respond, she resumed making her point. “Then he will indeed be happy. He will have an excellent life. But he will, by the same token, not assume the office of Thanatos. Then Thanatos will not save the Magician’s daughter Luna from Satan’s mischief, and she will not be on hand to balk him in that most critical political nexus not far hence.”

“I don’t remember any—”