Third Time Lucky: And Other Stories of the Most Powerful Wizard in the World

by Tanya Huff

  "Mistress, the way has been opened."

  Not even the most powerful wizard in the world can jerk erect in a hammock with impunity.

  "I should have strengthened the wards," Magdelene muttered as the demon untangled her. "If the ones around the garden didn't stop her, how could I expect those to?"

  "As much my fault as yours, Mistress. I said nothing to you about her rapid control of the house."

  Magdelene waved that away. "I knew about it. The child's power is incredible, and she gains control daily."

  "Then you think she lives?"

  The wizard paused in the doorway and allowed herself a small grin. "I think she's a royal pain in the ass to somebody else at this very moment. They'll want to use her power, not destroy it. You start cooking, I'll change into something warmer, and then I'll see about kicking some ass myself." She paused and waved a gate into the coral wall. "Big brother's about due. Might as well make it easy for him."

  As Magdelene ran into the kitchen some moments later, Joah’s older brother entered the garden. Kali turned from the stove, but Magdelene waved her back. She grabbed a couple of muffins and headed for the confrontation.

  * * * *

  Zayd stared suspiciously around. The place looked ordinary enough, but he didn't trust wizards. He'd dealt with the shamans of his father's court, and he knew where wizards were concerned things were seldom as they seemed. He had no intention of letting this wizard take him by surprise. He would grab the child and go, and if anyone or anything tried to stop him… He gripped his broad-bladed spear tighter.

  Magdelene watched a rivulet of sweat run over the corded muscles of his stomach to disappear behind his embroidered, linen loincloth. He looked to be about twenty years older than Joah; tall and sleekly muscular. His skin was a little darker and, just now, glistened in the sunlight. She smiled. Even in the midst of disaster, Magdelene could appreciate the finer things in life.

  "If you’re looking for Joah," she said at last, rolling her eyes as Zayd leapt backward and dropped his spear into a fighting stance, "she isn’t here."

  "Where is the wizard?" Zayd demanded.

  Magdelene polished off a muffin and bowed.

  "You?" He recovered faster than most. "What have you done with my sister, Wizard?"

  "I haven't done anything with her, but about two hours ago she wandered into the Netherworld." Magdelene stopped his charge, freezing him in a ridiculous and very uncomfortable position. "Now, you can stay like that for a while, or you can believe me when I say I had nothing to do with it and help me go bring her back."

  Zayd considered it and found he believed her. Not even a wizard would send another to the realm of the demonkind and then risk her own life with a rescue. "If you're going after her," he said grimly, "I'm going with you." No sooner did the words leave his mouth than the hold on him released and he dropped face first to the dirt. He scowled up into laughing, grey eyes.

  "Sorry," she said, holding out her hand. "I forgot that would happen."

  That he didn’t believe, and he got to his feet without her help. Still, he realized that a man who attacks the most powerful wizard in the world should expect a little discomfort, and he held no grudge. He brushed himself off and met her eyes squarely. "What I can do, I will. Command me."

  Magdelene bit her lip and got her thoughts back to her unfortunate apprentice.

  "Goddess," she muttered, "you’d be proud of me now." She headed for the house, indicating that Zayd should follow. "First of all, we'll find you some warmer clothes. You'd freeze in what you have on. The Netherworld is always cold, and I think they lower the temperature more for me. They know I hate it and…" She paused at his exclamation. "Oh. That’s Kali."

  Kali nodded and took a pie from the oven.

  Zayd looked from the demon to the table groaning under its load of food. He was willing to accept the demon, most wizards kept a familiar, but he had a little trouble when Magdelene slid into a chair and began to eat.

  "My sister lies in the Netherworld and you fill your stomach?"

  "Energy," Magdelene explained around half a fish. "Any energy I use in the Netherworld I have to take with me." She slathered a baked squash in butter. "Kali, when you’ve drained those noodles, take Zayd to Ambro's old room. There's clothes there that should fit him."

  Kali faced her mistress in shock. "But Ambro's room is lost."

  Magdelene studied a sausage with unnecessary intensity, refusing to meet the demon's eyes. "Third door on the left," she said, memories lifting the corners of her mouth. "Go."

  The third door on the left opened into a large, pleasant room, obviously once occupied by a musician. A table, still holding sheets of paper scrawled over with musical notations, stood by the window; the chair pushed back as though the composer had just left. A harp with two broken strings rested against the wall, and a set of cracked pipes peered out from under the unmade bed.

  Kali flipped open a small trunk and silently handed Zayd trousers, shirt, and boots. She glared around the room, snorted, began to leave. Then she stopped in the doorway and pinned the warrior with her gaze. "Man," she growled, "do you make music?"

  Zayd took an involuntary step away from the fire in the demon's eyes, but his voice was steady as he answered. "No."

  "Good." On any other face, Kali's expression would be called a smile. She closed the door on Zayd's question.

  When Zayd returned to the kitchen, Magdelene was just finishing charging her powers. His jaw dropped in astonishment. In the short time he'd been out of the room, enough food for a large family had been devoured by one medium-sized wizard.

  "Magic," Magdelene explained, and belched. She stood and stretched, looking Zayd over. The clothes, even the boots, fit perfectly. He held his huge spear in his right hand, and his dagger now hung from a leather belt. Magdelene nodded in satisfaction. Joah's brother was a formidable-looking man. They just might stand a chance. She picked up a large pouch and slung it across her shoulders. "All right then, let's get going."

  The hall outside the kitchen was not the one Zayd remembered. This one was large and square, and flooded with sunshine from a circular skylight. Each of the four walls held a door. The one they'd passed through, he assumed, led back to the kitchen, but he wasn't willing to bet on it. He jumped as Kali glided up behind him and dropped a serviceable, brown jacket over his shoulders. He shrugged into it, thinking he’d never worn so many clothes in his life.

  Almost too fast to follow, the demon twitched a bright orange cape off Magdelene's turquoise and red clothing and replaced it with one of neutral grey. "No need to annoy them unnecessarily, Mistress," she said in reply to the wizard's raised eyebrow. "They are demons, but they are not colour blind." Her hands rested for a moment on the wizard's shoulders. "Be careful."

  "If I can." Magdelene raised her hand to stop the demon's reply and then continued the gesture, beckoning Zayd. "Let’s go."

  "Go where?" Zayd spread his hands. "You've drawn no circles, burned no incense, sacrificed no goats. How do you expect us to travel to the Netherworld?"

  Magdelene threw open the door she stood beside. "I thought we'd take the stairs."

  * * * *

  The stairs went down a very, very long way. Twice they stopped to rest, and once Magdelene picked a jar of pickles of the shelves that lined the walls and crunched as they walked. Zayd declined. He'd peered into a jar earlier on and was sure that something had peered back.

  And down.

  And down.

  And down.

  At the bottom of the stairs, where the stone walls glistened with a silver slime that was not quite frost, their way was blocked by an immense, brass-bound door. Runes burned into the wood told, in horrific detail, the tortures that would befall the mortal who dared to pass. Embedded in the stone above the door was the living head of a demon.

  As the travellers approached, it drew in its grey and swollen tongue and announced with a great spattering of mucus, "Abandon hope all ye who…" Then through the
scum encrusting its eyes, the demon saw who it addressed. "Oh gee, sorry, Magdelene. I didn't realize it was you." And the door swung open on silent hinges.

  "Come on." Magdelene grabbed Zayd's arm and pulled. "All he can do is drool on you."

  The door closed behind them with the expected hollow boom.

  Grey and bleak and cold, prairies of blasted rock stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions.

  "Wizard! The door!"

  There was no door.

  "Don't worry." She gave his arm a comforting squeeze and released it. "The door will be there when we need it. The demonkind are usually very good about getting me out of their domain." And she smiled at a secret thought. It wasn't a very nice smile.

  Zayd dropped to one knee and studied the gravel at their feet. "I don't understand it," he muttered as he stood. "She should have left tracks in this."

  "The door never opens in the same place twice," Magdelene explained, wrapping her cloak tightly against the biting wind. "The Netherworld follows only its own laws, and sometimes not even those. Joah could've entered ten inches from here or ten miles. Reach inside to the blood tie and feel which direction we have to go."

  "To the what?"

  Magdelene brushed his eyes closed with her left hand and with her right turned him slowly around. Her voice dropped so low it became almost more a feeling than a sound. "Find the tie that binds you. Find the cord of your father's blood that links your life to hers. Reach for the part of Joah that is you." When Zayd's body no longer turned under her hands, Magdelene dropped them and stepped back.

  Zayd's eyes flew open, searching for the crimson line he knew stepped from his heart to Joah's. The Netherworld lay desolate and empty before him. He took a step and felt a gentle tug on the cord he couldn't see. His teeth flashed in a sudden feral smile. "We can find her, Wizard."

  It was impossible to judge distance when the landscape never changed, and time lost meaning when the light remained a uniform grey. Only aching muscles and extremities growing numb from the cold gave them any indication of how far or how long. Magdelene's eyes were hooded, and she hummed as she walked. Zayd followed the cord, rejoicing that the pull grew stronger, and giving thanks that the way had, so far, not been blocked.

  "It's the humming," Magdelene explained. "It keeps the lesser demons away."

  "I'm not surprised," Zayd admitted. In any other circumstances he'd be well away from the tuneless drone himself.

  Magdelene, who had a pretty good idea of what Zayd was thinking, only smiled and went on warning the demonkind of who walked their land.

  They'd eaten twice of their supplies in Magdelene's satchel when four horsemen appeared on the horizon. Magdelene and Zayd stood their ground as horses and riders thundered towards them. In less time than should have been possible, the dark rider was flinging herself off the pale horse and into Magdelene's arms.

  The most powerful wizard in the world extracted herself from Death's embrace and caught the bloodless hands firmly in her own. "Calm down," she advised. "I'm glad to see you too, but I'm not trying to knock you over."

  Death grinned and backed up a step. "You're looking well," she said in such a disappointed tone that both women broke down and roared with laughter.

  Zayd found himself meeting the gaze of the rider on the black horse who rolled his eyes in cadaverous sockets and shrugged bony shoulders.

  Finally, the laughter faded to giggles. One arm wrapped companionably about Magdelene's waist, Death wiped her streaming eyes and noticed Zayd. "Oooo nice," she crooned, jostling Magdelene with her hip. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

  "Not on your life," Magdelene crooned back.

  That set them off again.

  Pestilence buried his head in his hands and groaned, but Famine was made of sterner stuff. Boney fingers beat against an equally skeletal thigh. "Put a sock in it, ladies," he boomed. "We have work to do."

  "Okay, okay." Death flipped a hand at her companions and fought to get her mirth under control.

  Magdelene steadied herself against Death's shoulder and enquired innocently, "So, where are you headed?"

  "Well, we…"

  "Don't tell her!" War used the flat of her sword to pry the women apart and push Death towards her horse. "Remember what happened the last time!"

  Famine and Pestilence shuddered at the memory, and Death shrugged. "Sorry."

  "Never mind." Magdelene winked up at her. "Maybe next time."

  Then the riders were gone.

  Zayd emptied his lungs and tried to work the tension out of his shoulders. "You have weird friends, Wizard," he muttered.

  "Have an oatcake," was the wizard’s reply.

  * * * *

  The palace appeared to have sprung up between one heartbeat and the next. It was never on the horizon, never in the distance; it was just suddenly there. Made of the same dull grey stone as the rest of the Netherworld, it wasn't difficult to believe that the structure had sprouted from the ground like some particularly foul species of fungus.

  Magdelene noted the seal etched over the door and sighed philosophically. "Well, it could have been worse."

  She turned to Zayd and, for the first time, something in her eyes made the warrior believe she could indeed be what she was called.

  "Your sister is the guest of Lord Rak'vol." Her tone made the name a curse. "One of the five demon princes." She waved a hand at the cold desolation around them. "Here, I can only contain his powers. You must defeat him."

  "I do no magics," Zayd growled.

  Magdelene's voice was grim. "Neither will he, but he'll still have his physical strength, and that fight is yours."

  Zayd looked up at the prince's seal, leaned his spear against the wall, and began to strip off his clothes. He shook free the ends of his loincloth, tucked his dagger back under the fold, and stood as Magdelene had first seen him in the garden. "If I fight," he said, "I do it on my terms." Ignoring the cold, he began to murmur the warrior's chant.

  A knocker of bone on the palace's door boomed a summons impossibly loud when dropped. The doorman was familiar; the red eyes, ivory horns, and features bore a startling resemblance to Kali's. A lower look, however, showed this demon to be very obviously male.

  "You're here at last." He reached out a taloned finger to stroke the wizard's cheek. "But you'll have to get by me to get in." His chuckle was obscenely caressing. "The prince awaits, and you have no power to spare. What will you do to Muk to pass my door?" Gestures made the demon’s preference plain.

  Magdelene's eyes narrowed to slits. "Zayd," she said, and stepped aside.

  A demon's knees are no more protected than a man's, and beneath the copper-bound butt of Zayd's spear, they crushed in much the same way.

  Magdelene stepped over the writhing body and into the building. Zayd followed. Shrill shrieks of pain followed them both.

  Torches that smoked and flickered lit the way, making even more unpleasant the inlay work of gold and gems that ran along the wall. They came to the end of the corridor, turned, came to a branching, turned, came to a dead end.

  "If he thinks he can keep me out with this," Magdelene growled, glaring at the wall, "he can think again." She took Zayd's hand. "Close your eyes," she commanded. "Let me lead you."

  "I’d rather see where I’m walking, Wizard."

  "Suit yourself," Magdelene snapped, and walked into the wall she faced.

  Zayd closed his eyes as his hand and lower arm followed the wizard into the stone. Some moments later, when she released him, he opened them again.

  The room they stood in was lovely; brilliant tapestries hung on the walls, thick carpets covered the floor, the light was soft and golden. On a pile of brightly-coloured cushions, a young woman lay sleeping. Her skin was a rich, dark brown with warm velvety shadows and glowing highlights. Her body was an artist's dream and graceful even in repose. Just as the beauty that was to be hers as a woman had shown in the face of Joah the child, the innocence of the child showed in
the face of the woman.

  "Joah?"

  "Joah," Magdelene confirmed.

  Zayd took a step towards his sister, who slept on unaware. "Has he...?"

  "No, he hasn’t." Rak'vol answered for himself. "But he will."

  The demon prince was taller than the warrior, but not by very much. Broader through the shoulders, but only barely. Curls like copper silk tumbled down his back. Skin the colour of fresh peaches stretched over sculptured muscle. His face was beautiful without being soft. Above a generous mouth, amber eyes were amused.

  "The more human evil looks," Magdelene said softly to Zayd, "the more dangerous it is."

  Rak'vol laughed and tossed his head. "You were a fool to come here, Wizard," he said, friendly, chiding.

  "Once, there were six demon princes," the wizard replied. "Now, there are five."

  The perfect smile broadened. "Kan'kon was an idiot. He challenged where you were strongest. This is my domain, and I am stronger here." His eyes began to darken, and he turned to Zayd. "I assume you have come to fight for the fair maiden?"

  "Don't look in his eyes!" Magdelene cried, jolting Zayd from what was intended to be a fatal hesitation.

  The battle joined.

  Zayd needed every advantage his spear provided. In spite of his human appearance, Rak'vol moved with inhuman speed, using hands and feet as deadly weapons. Zayd took a kick to the thigh that would have broken the bone had it not been partially blocked. As it was, the muscles knotted in pain. He let the leg collapse and, as he twisted, dragged the blade of his spear along the demon’s ribs.

  The blood on the steel sizzled, and the metal began to melt and run. Zayd froze in horror as his spear became a wooden staff.

  Rak'vol chuckled as his wound closed. "The wizard may hold my power..." He waved a magnanimous hand at Magdelene, who stood, eyes closed, hands clenched, ignoring them as she ignored the crimson drops that fell from her ears. "...but she cannot change what is bred in bone and blood. What has never lived cannot harm the demonkind. You are welcome to do what you can with that stick of course."