Horrors of the Dancing Gods (48 page)

Marge was catching up on things with Joe.

"They caught us very near this spot," Joe told her. "We'd come through some really mean spots and gotten out of some desperate times, particularly running low on food, water, and anything to buy, but we made it, or so we thought. Did it the hard way, vamping a little, doing a few odd jobs making some sick plants well, that kind of thing. But once here,
boom!
Right into Boquillas, who was so beside himself, it was pitiful. He told me what he was going to do, how he was going to lure you all here, all the stuff.

And then he changed us to what you see, literally half plants, rooted us, and raped us both repeatedly while leaving us on guard with compulsions to stop anybody from trying anything. We completely lost track of everything, I have to tell you. I don't know how long we've been here or anything else." She looked at Marge.
"You
haven't stayed a good girl, either, I see."

"Nope. And I don't know if it's the condition or what, but I don't care. That's the amazing part. I really don't mind. Until this last business I've had more fun like this than I ever had as a Kauri."

"But you seduce and enslave men and eventually consume their souls."

She shrugged. "Well, there's a downside to everything, I guess. The thing is, there's a ton of bums out there who
deserve
it. You
know.
Believe me, you know. Most any native on
this
continent is fair game, and a fair number elsewhere. The difference between me and a born Succubus is that I came from somewhere and something else, and I remember it. I liked the Kauri well enough, but they were so one-dimensional, so goody two-shoes, their lives so regimented and controlled, I was losing myself, my identity. This brought if back. I've got to tell you, I need it and if I don't control it, I'll flip out and take it, so that's something I got to watch out for, but so long as I get my priorities and targets straight, I think I can handle this and not hurt anybody who doesn't deserve hurting. The vampire who only sucks blood from the bad guys, that kind of thing. I'm not on automatic like the others, so what happens from this point's on my account."

"I hope you can handle it as easily as you say," Joe told her.

"What about you? What will you do when you get uprooted?"

Joe sighed. "I don't know. I see Irving, and I want
to be Conan the Barbarian all over again. Poor kid—he's got worse shit than I ever dreamed. His girlfriend's a guy, and his daddy's a woman. How the hell has he turned out as good as he has?"

Marge nodded. "Sure would make a great
Donahue."

It was suddenly different. The change was so dramatic that it woke several of them up, yet there wasn't anything obvious that had changed. No great sounds had been shut off, no brilliant flares had illuminated them, no eruptions or fires. But ...
something.

"The vortex is gone," Poquah said at last. "They have closed it down and sealed it off."

"Yeah, and look!" Irving said, pointing to the old altar stone. "No remains!"

It was true. Every last chunk of the final stage of Esmilio Boquillas had gone as well.

Still, it was Marge who summed up the situation. "What a strange, strange adventure this has been! And now, at the end of it, evil has triumphed over evil! Ain't
that
one for the Book of Rules!"

A few hours later, emerging from the woods on a great sedan chair borne by four huge stonelike creatures, came Throckmorton P. Ruddygore in full evening dress, top hat, spats, and cane.

"Well, well, well!" he said, brightening at the sight. "So all's well that ends well, eh?"

"Too deep a subject for me, and too many wells," Marge snapped. "Hello, Ruddygore. You surprised at my condition?"

"Oh, my, no! I
assumed
it would happen. Thought it might be useful. Would you like to be changed back?"

"Talk to you later," she told him. "For now, let's hang loose and stay where we are."

His eyebrows didn't go up even at that. "Very well. Ah! Down, boys! Easy, please. Ah! Thank you."

They lowered the chair to ground level, and he emerged, the triumphant victor as usual.

"You don't have the black bird," Irving noted.

"Don't need it," he responded. "I'm wired in, as it were, at least for a while and at a certain level. Don't worry—the only problems that might result from this are mine if I blow the kind of wish spells it is capable of doing. Right now the real thing is sitting in the middle of the damnedest sports field I have ever seen but very, very safe, I assure you."

"Maybe. Where's Joel Thebes?"

"He lit out this morning," Lame told him.

Irving wasn't reassured by that. "Are you
sure
he can't get to that bird? That's all his life means to him."

"I am not so certain of that," Larae told him. "He went off this morning muttering something about the 'one ring over all, one ring to bind them,' if you know what that means."

"I think I do," the sorcerer told her. "Well, he's already in the right place for something related to it, anyway," he noted. "I just hope he has all his forgers. Now, tell me the truth—what can I do for the two of you?"

"You mean Larae isn't obvious?" Irving asked him.

"Um, yes, I see what you mean. Hmmm . Fascinating math on that spell. Makes me dizzy trying to follow it. No, there's not much I can do about
that.
It's worse than a djinn spell! My word! That's precisely what we were so worried about if they got through and why it took so long for an object of our universe to close up an opening to theirs."

"You mean you can't do
anything?'
Irving was suddenly so crushed that he was close to tears.

"Not what you are thinking, no," the sorcerer responded. "The whole thing is so complex that it would probably kill her at best. About the only thing I can do is some of the superficial stuff. Give you, poor girl, a look closer to your original self and ease the restrictions."

"I'd like that if Irving doesn't mind," Larae told him. "This is—impressive—but it just isn't me."

"No, no, I like the original fine," Irving assured her.

'Well, I'll see to that much, and you are certainly welcome at Terindell. There are many resources there, and perhaps one day we can find something your demon covets more than keeping that curse on you. In the meantime I'll help as
best I can. Excuse me, now, though. I must see the prodigal."

"Um—Ruddygore?" Irving said hesitantly.

"Yes, Irving?"

"I been thinking—a lot. About a way around this. It's—hard on me. Gives me the willies, but I figure you can fix that. But I decided that if there was no way for Larae to become fully a girl again, then maybe the one thing Boquillas threatened to do really
is
the best thing. Leave me just like
I
am, but down here give me what
she
should have. That way we'd at least be able to do things right."

Ruddygore thought about it. "That is a big decision to make, Irving, and it is
not
one I am inclined to go along with now, with you at sixteen years old and in a certain stage of emotional development. While complex, though, it is
not
something that requires the McGuffin to do—obviously. So I am going to refuse it for now in your own interest—in
both
of your interests, really. If, over time, this proves to be the best or even the only solution and you still want it, then we might look at it again, but I am not inclined to grant it right now. You are close and good friends and companions now. Stay that way. Let us see where it leads."

Irving had taken such a leap with the offer that being turned down was as much letdown as relief. Still, what could he do?

As Ruddygore left them to go over to Joe, who couldn't exactly travel much in her situation, Larae just stared at Irving and tears flowed from her eyes. She wasn't sure that she wanted Irving to do that, either, but the idea that he'd think of
that
and ask for it locked her love in stone.

Ruddygore was much less pleased by the request but decided to talk it out with Joe. First, though, the sorcerer examined the delicate condition of the two half plants.

"Oh, my! Well, we'll certainly ensure that
this
doesn't hatch! Even without it, though, you're pretty well planted, aren't you?"

"You said it." Joe looked over at Irving and Larae. "Can you help them?"

"Not like they and I and certainly you would want it," Ruddygore admitted. "I can't really help her situation without killing her. Do you know he asked for the reverse to be done to him so they could be a true couple?"

Joe was aghast. "And did you say yes?"

"No, I refused. Sixteen-year-olds shouldn't be allowed to castrate themselves on the second date. But if this goes a year or two or more and he wants it even more, it will be difficult not to do it. In the meantime I can ease it a little for him. From almost, oh, right now, he will no longer mind her situation. It will still be there and a barrier, but he will no longer have that hang-up about it, period."

"Oh, boy! There go the grandkids," Joe commented. "Still, I'd love to see his mother's face if she knew about this! It would
almost—
not
quite but
almost—
be
worth it!"

"You never know. I'm not making him prefer boys unless he normally would anyway. All I'm doing is allowing him to accept a situation and live with it comfortably without harm and getting the most from it. He'll still like girls, and if he finally finds one that's all female, well, you never know. If they really are an enduring love match, though, you might still get the grandchildren at some point—Only he might not be the father but the mother."

"That's not helping my thoughts about that."

"Well, then, think about something else. What do you want for
you?"

"I didn't know I had much choice. I'd like to get uprooted, that's for sure."

"That's not a problem. Or, rather, it actually
is
a problem but not one we won't be able to solve. I may have to rotate both of you in planters to Terindell for a few weeks so I can solve some of that tricky math. Maybe run it through the supercomputer over on Earth just to ensure we don't have
any
traps there. But what then?"

'What are my options?"

"The McGuffin is pretty limited in some areas. I can't make you mortal again, but within faeriedom, as it were, I can run a whole range of choices, male and female, type after type. There is only one problem with that."

"Yeah?"

"If you are no longer a wood nymph, you will lose your connection to the Tree of Life, You will, in other words, become
not exactly mortal but able to be killed for good as we did with our old friend here. And iron will kill."

"Hmmm ... Makes it kind of tough, doesn't it? But it's no more risk than I used to have. Well, I'm not gonna get unpotted for a while, right? So I got some time to decide,"

"That is certainly true. And what of your companion here? I have been unable to identify her father or find out the slightest thing about her."

"Not even where she was born and raised? I thought that would be pretty easy to find."

"Joe, there is no such place. Not in Husaquahr, anyway. And those soldiers who have been after her don't seem to match anything known. I
can
say this after examining her, even from this distance: I don't think she's a halfling at all. I think that everything we see is a disguise, even her memories."

"What! You mean she's hiding out and on the run and she is
already
disguised like that? Who would disguise somebody like
that?
And why would she keep it up, even with us both planted here?"

"Oh, what you see is what you get," Ruddygore assured
Joe. "She fully believes in Alvi and in this reality. I'm just saying it's not real. Someone with a very odd way of thinking and a true fear of discovery constructed this whole business to hide whatever's obscured beneath all this. As you say, none of it makes the least bit of sense."

"Her father, or stepfather, or whatever drove her here with the map in hopes that the McGuffin could change her into a normal girl."

"True, and it could, but if, it did, whatever is being hidden would be doubly so—and, so hidden, it may never come out."