Songs of the Dancing Gods dg-4

by Jack L. Chalker

  “I’m glad to see you found your true calling,” Joe responded sourly. “The Wicked Bimbo of the North.”

  She laughed. “I owe that to you and Ruddygore and the others, too,” she said. “All those years, all that enormous effort, all for the noblest of ends. Then I was exiled to Earth, and saw so many political and economic systems, all launched for noble purposes, and I saw homelessness, starvation, misery, and despair. Some worked better than others, but not a one of them really worked any better than our own systems here. In disgust, the demoted demons and I decided to wipe it all away, but you stopped that, and I’m so very happy you did, my darlings. For the first time, I’m totally honest, even with myself, and totally free of those hang-ups. Now, for the first time, I can look myself in the mirror and know that I’m doing what I do and choosing what I choose for no other reason than because being bad is so much more fun!”

  She frowned, staring suddenly at Mia, who was staring back, furious at Boquillas. “Why darling, that suits you just wonderfully, looking like that! One of my little ideas that’s turned out so nicely. I never had much liking for women when I was a man and, now that I am a woman, I find I like other women even less than before. What a wonderful comeback, darling, and I had nothing to do with it! Ruddygore himself went to great lengths to insure you would sink to slavery.”

  “I have always been a slave, you witch! You should know! You killed Tiana, my mistress!” Mia shouted.

  For a moment Boquillas looked genuinely puzzled and confused, but then she stared at Mia, then at Joe, reading the small spells Ruddygore had woven, and broke into laughter. “Oh, my! That is amusing!” she managed after a bit. “My dears, I didn’t kill Tiana, let alone import some royal slave bimbo. How could I? You had the Lamp, which was the only way across at the time. Ruddygore wanted to insure that you would be lean, mean, and totally loyal and unwavering to the mission.

  “You are Tiana, my sweet. You always have been.”

  “No!” Mia wailed. “It is not true!”

  But Joe almost instantly realized that it was true. So many more things made sense if it was, and there was no getting around the transportation problem that Boquillas so neatly pointed out. There was no way that a Mia could have fooled him so thoroughly and for so long those first few months back. And, before they returned, Ti could read quite well, even English. Ruddygore again, playing with and manipulating everyone as pawns in his grand game. The Rules had not reduced her to this; Ruddygore had created the conditions so that upon landing this result was inevitable.

  It became suddenly obvious, the whole plot. Her intuitive skills with weapons, for example. And what was it to Ruddy-gore, who could mess with both their memories and perceptions, to give her the dance, maybe taken from some strippers he’d seen in San Francisco, or some of the basic skills, like mending and tailoring? Why a slave? Because, otherwise, she could not be pared down to the tough essentials to get her to this point, and certainly not to aid in the destruction of the way back.

  And all that so that they could stand there, captive of their worst enemy?

  The “Mia” personality, so nicely adjusted by Ruddygore’s spells, rebelled against the truth, but Boquillas was ready for that. “Let me simply disentangle those rather simple little spells that blinded you both. Won’t take a second, and it clears away all that messy stuff.”

  Tiana stopped protesting and suddenly gasped. “Then it is true,” she said simply.

  Boquillas smiled. “Of course it is. And you will be very, very helpful to me. You see, as our palace slave, in reality the role you were handed by Ruddygore’s fiction, compelled to obedience, you will be my closest advisor and critic. With you advising me, dressing me, prompting me, there will be no question in anyone’s mind that I am the one and only original Tiana. And after I am in control and beyond threat, you will continue to be there to serve me and do whatever I command, living life at its lowest while watching me live yours.”

  “So you plan to be the one in Tiana’s body,” Joe said.

  She nodded. “Of course. I can’t be you, since I’d lose what powers I have regained, and, as I said, I rather like being this way. In fact, I shall be sad to leave this body for the more, ah, statuesque proportions of Tiana, but we can’t have everything, can we?”

  “I see. And what about me?”

  She gave that wicked Boquillas smile once more. “But that’s so simple, Joey baby! It’s the most delicious part of all of it! We’ll just slip little old you back into that marvelous body you had, whose statues don’t do you justice, and you’ll be right there, unimpeachable, convincing, truly returned, reinforcing my own image, with your great sword living as absolute proof that it’s you. You’ll leave the decisions to me, of course, but you mostly did that when you were reigning with her anyway.”

  “You bastard! What makes you think I’ll do anything of the sort?”

  “Oh, Joey baby! As a man who was just taken in by the simplest little old spell in Creation, you really don’t think you have a choice, do you? If old Ruddypuss can convince you that this girl is not Tiana, how much simpler will it be to build a scenario in your mind that I am? And you’ll be much too lovesick to do more than forgive and accept whatever I decide to do. Why, you have to create love potions and charms just to get into Witchcraft 101. Besides, if all else fails, there’s always your son to hold you, isn’t there? There are all sorts of possibilities with the boy!”

  He knew at once that Boquillas was right and that they’d all been had, even Ruddygore. Boquillas had understood that in the critical first week they returned unannounced, they’d be under a microscope by politicians, courtiers, and top-ranked sorcerers. Sugasto couldn’t exactly be around in the nearest closet to bail her out; with her powers still limited, she would at that point be as vulnerable as he would be. After consolidating power, though, and gathering it in, she’d be able progressively to eliminate anyone who might challenge, and Sugasto would take most of Husaquahr without even firing a shot.

  Now that was a thought!

  “You mean you’ll spend all the time in the great palace as a puppet, doing what Sugasto wants,” he noted. “You have changed, Boquillas. This plot is up to your usual standards, but it’s all so you can become somebody else’s stooge.”

  She waved a hand, and many of the yellow bands of magic flowed back into her. He could move again—but not toward her. He could not touch her or make a move in her direction.

  “Come over to the window. Yes, that’s it. Come here and look out and tell me what you see.”

  He went to the window and looked. Just beyond the tower were other gardens, and, beyond them, the ice pack, and in the distance…

  “The Devastation,” he said.

  She nodded. “I think you understand some of it now, or you wouldn’t have been able to cross it. A brilliant stoke, by the way, that I admit I didn’t anticipate. You forget that I have the old bodies with many of your patterns. The moment you set foot on this ground, a standing spell informed me that you had arrived.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  She pointed a slender arm decked with jewels out at the far-off phenomenon. “They’re still there, you know. The battle in full cry. Not just the souls, everything, perfectly preserved. Now, what do you think would happen if this volcano we’re sitting on, a complementary phenomenon to the Devastation you might have guessed, went off? The flow would only reach the edges of the Devastation in most spots, but imagine the heat that would be given off—and the whole frozen valley would warm in proportion. On this world, it would be like the loosing of thousands of hydrogen bombs would be on Earth; An evil that even Hell fears would be loosed once more upon this world.”

  “Is that what you want? Still trying to bring about the final war between good and evil?”

  “Oh, darling, of course not! Not anymore. I’ve outgrown that, as I told you! But if it’s not me, then it’s them. Sugasto is so conventional, you see. Power-crazed, yes, but his vision is so boring. You see, there is
one way to restore all my powers. Only one way. The entire Council, which now includes dear Suggy, would have to reverse their combined spells. Even though not really on it anymore, it would require Ruddygore as well. With my powers” back, in that situation, I would be both temporal and spiritual ruler. My powers would be near absolute. Did you see the tree in the middle of the lava pit?”

  He nodded, sickened at her ambitions. “I saw it.”

  “It is one of the trees, the original trees, from the Origin of Humanity. Sugasto and the others believe it is the Tree of Knowledge which condemned humanity, as do others, but it is not. It is the Tree of Life. Eat of it, and nothing at all may harm you. With my powers and that fruit, I’ll be a true goddess. I shall walk about my world, worshiped as the one who is truly divine. My reign shall be forever!”

  He felt a cold chill. “How do you know which tree it is, or if it’s really one of those?”

  “Because, dear one, I’ve done my homework. It is what that battle was about out there. Two Powers, perhaps beyond anything we know, battling to become a third face, not Heaven, not Hell, but beyond and beside it, equal to both. That’s why they got together to stop them, lest one side win and truly become a god.” She shrugged. “I think even supreme beings have Rules, too.”

  “There’s only one hole in your grand design,” Joe argued. “Why would Ruddygore and the Council restore your powers? I think they’d rather die first.”

  “Indeed? Ruddygore, perhaps, but he knows that, if that were to happen, I’d be freed of the need for him. The others? Die for principle? How amusing you are! The only reason Ruddygore has remained so long is that he has never found a worthy successor, and he won’t. But, you see, he has no choice, and neither will Sugasto. They will all do my bidding, since to toy with me or cast obedience spells upon me or try to do away with me is genocide! I have it rigged, you see—carefully placed mechanisms deep beneath this place, where even I at this point cannot find them. They will blow, this place will blow, the volcano will blow. The heat will melt the Devastation, and the world as we know it will end. Given a choice of that, or restoring me and being allowed to pass on, which do you think your old sorcerer will choose?”

  “Aren’t you afraid Sugasto will stop you? He might not be too pleased at this himself.”

  “Sugasto, at least, already knows that I’ve wired the place. Right now he thinks we’re partners, destined to be a new god and goddess. He doesn’t think much of women, you know. His own male ego, which I perfectly understand, blinds him to the possibilities.”

  Joe turned away from the windows, feeling a cold chill, and saw that heavily armed, mean-looking Bentar now filled the room.

  A way out, he kept thinking. The Rules require I have a way out!

  He turned back to Boquillas. “Can you answer me one simple question?”

  “Of course, darling! A wife to be should have no secrets from her husband!”

  “Why are all the zombies gathered around watching Gilligan’s Island?”

  She chuckled and shrugged. “Beats me. I, of course, recharged the batteries with a spell to see what someone had on those tapes. I was astonished when I saw what was on them, of course, and, even more, I was absolutely stunned to discover that it seemed to draw every zombie in the palace like a magnet. So far, I haven’t worked out an effective method for turning it off. The spell provides continuous power, and, so far, the zombies will do nothing except prevent anyone from shutting it down. It is a fascinating thing, is it hot? Sugasto will have to take care of it when he returns tomorrow. Inconvenient, but little else. It’s even handy to have something to block Sugasto’s powers a bit. I suspect it’s some broadcast frequency interference that’s acting like a drug to them, but it may be that a zombie retains just barely enough intelligence that it simply entrances them.”

  Joe hoped the technical explanation was right. Although he wasn’t feeling all that smart right now, he’d watched the show in the old days now and then himself and found it occasionally funny. He didn’t want to think about what that might say should the second explanation be true.

  “Take his sword and lock him in the tower room!” Boquillas ordered the Bentar. “And watch him! He can be tricky and quite resourceful. The one who lets him escape shall feel my anger! The girl I will keep here. She has much to tell me.”

  The lead Bentar reached for the sword, then withdrew. “My lady, we cannot take that sword! It’s iron! And so, too, is the belt lined with it!”

  Boquillas sighed. “Details, details. Oh, very well.” She withdrew the rest of her spells from him, then walked over to him and began playfully undoing the belt. This is it! he thought.

  Joe struck the sorceress with a strong blow, knocking her senseless halfway across the room, then had Irving in his hand in moments. Mia—Tiana—struggled against her magical bonds, still in force, but could not help him.

  Suddenly he was in the midst of roaring, howling Bentar and was in a fierce duel. In spite of their numbers and ferocity, the Bentar did not press in, facing the only thing that they were truly afraid of— iron!

  He pressed them back and got to the open door, but now they were between him and Mia—Tiana. “I’ll be back!” he shouted and ducked out the door.

  Boquillas struggled to get up from the floor, feeling her jaw. “After him, you idiots!” she screamed. “I want him alive! Better to risk iron than me later!”

  Joe undid the swordbelt and let it drop. He was naked and exposed, with just Irving in his hand, but it gave him total freedom of movement. The bronze swords of the Bentar had cut him in several places, but he was beyond feeling pain. He tried to head up the stairway, hoping at least to get to the bodies, but the stairwell was filled with troopers armed with swords, knives, maces, and other unpleasant stuff. He’d never make it up through that mob, damn it! He had to get clear, wait until he could think!

  He bounded down the stairs, leaping the railings, and came eventually to the main entry hall. All the forces he hadn’t seen coming in seemed to be flowing out from all directions except the inner circle. Slash! Hack! Cut! Men and Bentar screamed, limbs flew. Although his body now bled from a hundred wounds, he was still on the go. He made the circle corridor and started to run, but, just past the first archway out to the crater, he faced a horde of men charging toward him. Turning back, he saw the others coming down the hall in a full rush.

  He ducked back through the arch and down to the crater walk.

  Man! It was hot! Even the stones around the narrow walkway burned his feet.

  He started to run one way, then another, but soldiers of all kinds seemed to be popping out or blocking just about every exit he could see! The only possible exit was where those blank-eyed monsters were watching television, but he couldn’t get to that! He suddenly felt like Dorothy at the end of The Wizard of Oz, trapped on the battlements with great forces all around and no bucket of water to throw.

  Boquillas poked her head out of one of the upper tower windows. “You can’t win, Joe! Those human soldiers there—see their lances and bolts? Silver-coated, Joe! I know the secret of your longevity! Give it up! Give one of them the sword and surrender! This time there is no way out! Who knows, you might always escape from the tower, right?”

  ’He took his eyes off the closing forces for a moment and saw her up there, and suddenly from that tower window flew red and yellow magic strings, aimed right at him!

  He jumped up on the side of the low crater wall, barely six inches thick, and watched the spells hit right where he’d been and explode with a big puff of smoke.

  “Give it up, Joe, and come down from there!” Boquillas yelled to him. “There is no way out! There is no escape this time!”

  He looked at all the forces around him, saw the silver tips, then saw that Boquillas was readying yet another bolt, while, behind him, the heat and terrible, almost choking sulfurous fumes rose from the bubbling and churning two-thousand-degree lava far below, and realized that Marge had been right, but that the Rules were
often cruel.

  Holding Irving almost like a javelin, he hurled it with full force into the mob of soldiers, where it penetrated and speared two Bentar and one human soldier before it came to rest.

  Then, as Boquillas’ new spell left her hands, he took a deep breath, and jumped backward into the pit.

  Not trusting his sudden horrible scream of anguish, cut off in midsound, they all rushed to the edge of the pit and looked down.

  There was nothing there. Nothing, and no one, except the bubbling, hissing lava.

  CHAPTER 13

  THE END OF THE WORLD BLUES

  No conclusion of an epic saga is complete without a wizard’s battle.

  —The Books of Rules, XV, 397(a)

  The small ring in Tiana’s nose suddenly crackled a bit, and she felt an irritating, slightly painful tingling there that soon passed.

  Boquillas stared out the window at the sight she’d just witnessed, unable really to believe it. “He’s dead,” she muttered, amazed to her core. “He really killed himself.”

  “Noooo!” Tiana cried, even though she knew from the reaction in her nose ring that it was true, and tears began flowing down her face.

  Boquillas sighed, turned away from the window, and came back to Tiana. “Somehow,” the sorceress said, almost to herself, “I never thought he was the martyr type. Stupid! I would have made him a demigod.”