The Warlock Rock (16 page)

"Sensations," Magnus mused, his gaze on Wenna. "The songs speak of pleasures you wish to enjoy, but have been told you must not—until you are wed."

Wenna flushed, and Alno sat up, annoyed. "Is there nothing to life for thee, save rules and orders?"

"I but spoke of marriage," Magnus said easily, and Alno started to retort, but noticed the women looking at him, and closed his mouth with a snap.

The point is taken, Fess's voice said. Yes — if the words of the song justify the behavior they wish to practice but have been taught not to, they will wish to believe those words. From there, it is only a very small step to persuade oneself that they are true.

"Yet surely," Cordelia protested, "these songs are but entertainment." Fess was silent.

"The song bade them eat lotus, sister," Geoffrey pointed out.

"Aye." Orin smiled. "I told thee it spake truly."
Page 91

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Yes, Geoffrey, came Fess's voice again, that is the final stage in the persuasive process — the call to action. The song ends with an imperative— and it is heeded.

"Thy lotus," Cordelia said, seized by a sudden notion. "Doth it enhance the music?" Johann sat up, leaning close to her. "Why, how couldst thou have known?" Yes, Cordelia— once they have begun to eat lotus, it dulls

their thinking processes, and makes them much more suggestible.

"For that it bids thee do what thou dost wish to be told to do," Geoffrey answered. "Tis simply a matter of telling thee what thou dost want to hear, and mixing into it what someone else doth wish thee to do." Alno sat bolt upright. "Why, how is this?"

"It is the source of thine 'insight,'" Magnus inferred. " 'Tis given thee in the music, and thou dost make it thine own."

He was met with a full chorus of denials. "Nay, not so!"

"What we believe, we have seen of ourselves!"

"None have taught us—we have learned of our own!"

"Learned, forsooth!" Gregory cried, exasperated. "Thou dost but repeat what the stones tell thee!"

"And is there not truth in the rocks that endures?" Alno challenged.

"Truth in words that have been fed thee like bran in a manger?" Cordelia retorted.

"What need for an army?" Geoffrey said, with a laugh. "I could take a city with but a handful of men, had I music like this to precede me!"

"Conquest!Battle ! Rule!" Johann's face darkened. "Canst thou think of naught but strife?"

"Why, if I do not think of it, another will," Geoffrey gibed. " 'Tis sad, but 'tis the way of men, is't not?

There will ever be one who will not let others bide in peace, when he could bring them under his sway!"

"Thou shalt not do so to us!" Johann rushed him, hands out to grasp his neck. Geoffrey twitched aside, and Johann sailed into the river with a huge splash.

"A rescue, a rescue!" Yhrene cried. "He cannot swim!" Then Orin fell on Geoffrey like a wall.

Magnus leaped to pull him off, but a chance elbow caught him under the jaw. Then the big youth's body heaved as Geoffrey slipped out from beneath, scrambling to his feet; but the wiry Alno seized him, kicking and biting. Frowning, Geoffrey twisted around, catching Alno's collar and wrist in a lock that
Page 92

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

should have given him unbearable pain; but the lanky lad only whined, his eyes bulging, and tried to swivel the bound thumb into Geoffrey's eye as his knee slammed into Geoffrey's groin. Geoffrey emitted a loud groan, folding but pulling Alno down with him, the two of them holding one another up. Then Magnus caught the wiry one and threw him aside into the water, and swung back to prop up his brother. "Art thou well?"

"Hurting, but not hurt," Geoffrey groaned again and forced himself to bend and stretch, biting down to stifle the pain. "I must… before I am set…"He rested a moment, panting, leaning on Magnus's shoulder.

"What of… Orin?"

"He sleeps, though not entirely willingly."

"Oh, help Alno!" Adele cried. "He too cannot swim!"

"An I must, I must." Gregory sighed, and stared at Alno's thrashing form. Slowly, it rose out of the water and drifted back to the raft.

"Thou art witchfolk," Adele whispered.

"She saith it with fear," Geoffrey muttered, "she, who hugs things of magic to her bosom for their sweet sounds!"

Magnus turned, frowning. "What of the first man overboard?"

"He is here, brother." Cordelia stood, arms akimbo, glaring at Johann, who floated thrashing and squalling in midair. "Nay, thou'It not come down till thou art done seeking to strike out!"

"Why, who art thou to give commands!" Yhrene demanded in indignation. Cordelia stood stiff with surprise for a moment, then turned slowly to Yhrene, her eyes narrowing.

"Why, I am she who hath hauled thy lad from the river! Shall I let him go?"

"How like the old folk they be," Adele said contemptuously, "to think that mere might doth give them right to command."

"Aye," Cordelia spat, "even as Johann sought to sway my brother by sweet reasoned discourse! Nay, wherefore should I uphold a hypocrite?"

Johann hit the water with a champion splash again. But he managed to catch the edge of the raft this time and hauled himself up, spluttering and blowing.

"Oh, poor darling!" Yhrene cried, dropping to her knees and helping him pull himself onto the raft.

"I… I wish them gone," Johann gasped, and managed to push himself upright. He stood before the Gallow-glasses, soused but commanding, "We need no witchfolk here. Get thee hence!"

"Aye." Alno came dripping up behind him. "Go! If thou canst not be tranquil and enjoy sweet sensation with us, go!"

"Even so," Johann agreed. "This raft is for none but they who love peace!"
Page 93

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Love the lotus, thou dost mean," Geoffrey grated, still bent and clasping Magnus's shoulder. "And the music. Nay, my sibs, let us go. They shall have the life they have earned."

"Earned, earned!" Wenna exploded. "Dost thou never think of aught but earning?"

"Nay, we never do," said Magnus, "just as thou dost never think of gravity."

"Why, wherefore should I wish to be grave?"

"Thou hast no need—yet wilt thy feet stay on the ground."

"If they are there at all," Cordelia added.

Wenna glared at her, not wanting to admit her own lack of comprehension. "Thou dost not think an air of gravity would help thee fly!"

"Nay, certes," Cordelia retorted, "though the sort of flying thou dost seek will make thee gravid." Wenna flushed with anger, finally understanding. She was about to start clawing, when the raft jarred against the shore.

Johann stared. "How came we here?"

Gregory looked up from his station by the edge of the raft, all innocence. "A trick of the current, belike."

"Or a current trick." Johann's eyes narrowed. "Nay, assuredly we have no need of thy kind! Get thee hence!"

Magnus bowed with a flourish. "Ever are we glad to please those whom we respect."

"Aye," Geoffrey agreed, looking about, puzzled, "but where shall we find any?" Johann reddened. "Begone!"

"Thou art of acute perception," Geoffrey growled. "We have." He glared at the raft, and it slid off into the current so suddenly that Wenna and Johann fell, and the others rocked on their feet, crying out. Cordelia rounded on Geoffrey. "That was ill-done! Couldst thou not have let them depart with dignity?"

"I am somewhat preoccupied with mine aches," Geoffrey rasped, still bent. "Why, dost thou think they would mind?"

"Certes thou dost not think so poorly of them!"

Geoffrey shrugged, and nodded toward the raft. "Behold, sister." Cordelia looked. Johann had fallen close enough to Wenna so that he was able to reach out to touch her—and he was doing so, as their lips met.

"Why, the scoundrel!" Cordelia gasped, scandalized. "Was he not Yhrene's lad?"
Page 94

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"At that moment," Magnus allowed. "Yet what cares he which lips he doth kiss?"

"He is a lad for all lasses," Geoffrey muttered.

Cordelia turned away, her face flaming.

Magnus glanced at her, concerned.

"I must walk, or I'll be lamed awhile," Geoffrey groaned. "Brother, give aid."

"Gregory!" Cordelia scolded. "Do not stare! Nay, do not even look at what they do! Turn thine eyes away!"

Gregory looked up, surprised, then turned away with a shrug.

Magnus relaxed. "We'll have naught more to do with the floating world, I warrant."

"Aye, forsooth," Cordelia agreed. "It seemed pleasant enough whiles I did tarry there, but its folk care so little for what they do that they cannot be trusted."

"For what they do," Geoffrey grated, "or for one another, or their duties. Nay, I am schooled."

"Aye," Magnus agreed. "To them, honor's a mere scutcheon—and thus ends their catechism."

Meanwhile, the elder Gallowglasses continued their part of the quest. The sun set, turning the sky into rose and pink, reaching long streamers out toward Rod and Gwen as they hiked toward it.

"I had felt tired," Gwen said, "and a-hungered—but now, by some happenstance, I do feel invigorated, and mine hunger has abated."

"A bait that I would have taken," Rod said, "and dealt with the trap if I'd had to. But I know what you mean—I'm ready to greet the day. Only it's dusk."

"Could it be the music that hath done it?" Gwen asked.

"Can you call it music?" Rod returned.

"Whatever 'tis, 'tis wondrous," Gwen answered.

And it was—a magical blending of sound that almost seemed to lift them and lend wings to their heels. They walked on into the sunset with a spring in their steps. Almost without realizing it, they joined hands. But the pinks went on much longer than they should have; surely the sun must have set long ago!

Nonetheless,

Page 95

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

all the sky was rosy still, and Rod suddenly realized that everything around them was pink-hued too.

"Gwen—we're looking at the world through rose-colored glasses!" Gwen looked about, eyes widening. "So it would seem— yet we wear no spectacles. How comes this, my lord?"

"Don't ask me—you're the magic expert." Rod grinned. "Why worry, anyway? Let's just enjoy it." For a second, he could have sworn the breeze whispered in his ear, " Tis but entertainment." But he knew it must have been his imagination.

"Rose-colored glasses, indeed," Gwen said after a while. "The pinks have deepened."

"Yes, they have," Rod mused. "In fact, some of them have turned a definite red." Then suddenly, the music that had been all about them was in front of them, and scarlet light glimmered through a screen of leaves ahead.

"What have we here?" Gwen murmured.

"Go gently," Rod whispered.

Together, they stole up to the screen of leaves, and peered in.

It was a throne room—it had to be. There was a huge chair on a high dais, which could only have been a throne, and a mass of courtiers treading the measure before it. They were all different shades of red—ruby, scarlet, deep rose— and the man who sat on the throne was crimson, with a crown of red gold adorned with rubies. He nodded and beat time with his sceptre, for it was rock music they danced to—and even the tallest of them could scarcely have reached Rod's knee.

"I thought that I knew all of the Wee Folk, or at least knew of all their kingdoms," Gwen whispered, "yet ne'er have I heard of these."

"They may not have been here before," Rod whispered back. "After all, that music they're dancing to wasn't here before, either. Maybe they came with it."

The courtiers bowed and curtsied, rose and swirled, and the crimson king nodded and smiled over all, delighting in his subjects' bliss.

' 'Twould be shame to trouble them," Gwen whispered. "Come, my lord, let us go." They stole away, leaving the king and all his court to their endless ball. But as they went farther and farther into the wood, the tones of color deepened and changed—maroon, then purple, and finally indigo—and the music became slower, even rather sad, but with a strident beat that lifted the spirits before they could sink too low.

"I am saddened." Gwen leaned her head on Rod's shoulder. "I have no reason to be, I know—yet I am."

Page 96

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Must be the music that's doing it." Rod held her close, trying to cradle her as they walked. "I feel it too. Lean on me, love—it makes it better."

"I shall," she murmured. "Thou must needs support me now."

"I promised to once, in front of a congregation of elves, didn't I?" Rod smiled. "We really must get around to a church wedding one of these days."

"Would not our children be scandalized, though?" she murmured.

"Are you kidding? You'll have all you can do to keep Cordelia from making the arrangements." She lifted her head, smiling up into his eyes. "Thou canst ever buoy me up when I sink, Rod Gallowglass. Mayhap 'tis that for which I love thee."

"Well, you manage to put up with some awfully rough changes in my temperament," he reminded her.

"You're not the only one who's moody now and then."

"Now most of all," she said. "Come, speed my steps. We must move out from this place of blue hues, or it will sadden us to death."

"Only a little farther now," he murmured. "It's getting darker."

"Can that be good?"

"Of course. It has to get darker before it can start getting lighter, doesn't it?" She gave him a thin smile in answer, but her face was growing pale. With a stab of anxiety, Rod noticed that she had become heavier, as though some weight were dragging her down. Looking up, he saw that all the leaves had fallen, and bare branches glimmered in starlight. Off to his right, a dark lake lay like the gathering place of lost hopes, a well of despair, and Rod shuddered and pushed on, half-carrying his wife now. Her feet still moved, but her eyes had closed, and she was murmuring as though in a fever. All around them, the music still strummed with a steady beat, but a slow one now, sad and lonely. High above it, like an arpeggio, came a long, eerie howling that sank and died into a gloating laugh. It was distant, but it made Rod shiver. He pushed on, walking a little faster. Finally, the haunted woodland sank behind them—but they were in a place that was bleaker still, a barren land broken by harsh upthrusts of rock, sharp-edged and unworn, like flints new-broken in a new-made world. Light glimmered on their points and edges, but starlight only. It didn't bother Rod, really—he had grown up on an asteroid, and to him, it seemed almost like home. Yes, quite like Maxima, or perhaps even Luna, between sunset and earthrise—the dark side of the moon. Rod took a deep breath and actually relaxed a little—it might be stark, but at least it was clean. That other place had felt of sickening and decay.