by Tanya Huff
The door opened onto a second floor balcony about eight feet long by six feet wide in one end of a large rectangular room. To both the left and the right, curved stairs lead down to the floor. The library shelves had been emptied of books, and any lingering odours of paper and dust had surrendered to the swirling clouds of smoke that rose from a dozen incense burners. Motioning for Ciro to be quiet, Magdelene crept forward, peered over the balcony railing, and stiffened.
In the centre of the floor was a multicoloured spiral. In the centre of the spiral, suspended horizontally some four feet above the ground, was an unconscious, seven-foot-tall, green-scaled demon. Standing beside the demon was a short, slight, balding man wearing what were traditionally thought of as wizard's robes.
As Magdelene's jaw dropped, he raised his arms into the air with a flourish worthy of a stage magician. In his right hand he held a dagger and in his left, an ebony bowl. Something green and moist coated the edge of the dagger blade.
"Oh, shit!"
Governor Andropof's head jerked up and around toward the balcony. "Whoever you are, you're too late!" Laughing maniacally, he bent to hold the bowl under the demon's throat and vanished.
The chime of the dagger hitting the floor hadn't quite faded when Magdelene reached the edge of the spiral, Ciro, fighting every instinct, close behind her.
"Where's the governor?" he panted.
"The middle of the Great Lake."
"What's he doing there?"
"Probably treading water." Circling the spiral, Magdelene frowned down at the design.
"Why would he send himself...?"
"He didn't. I did. In another minute he'd have completed the sacrifice, and we don't want that."
"We don't?"
"Trust me." Inspecting the narrowest bit of the pattern, she nodded in satisfaction and stepped over to H'sak's side.
"Magdelene!" Ciro spun around, searching, unsuccessfully, for something to hide behind.
"Relax. This is an exact copy of one of the great locking diagrams from The Booke of Demonkind." She had to admit that the governor had done impressive research, for, as far as Magdelene knew, there were only two copies of that book still in existence, and she had one of them – it had been rather drastically overdue when the library'd burned down, so she'd kept it. "Unfortunately, the author had a tendency to choose art over craft, and all of her illustrations are completely inaccurate. But then, what else can you expect from someone who spells book with an 'e'?"
"Well if the pattern isn't holding the demon, what is?" He couldn't prevent his voice from rising rather dramatically on the last word, although when he noticed he was doing it, he did manage to stop wringing his hands.
"This."
This was a glowing length of delicate silver chain.
"That's the Blazing Chain of Halla Hunta," the wizard explained as Ciro cautiously approached, drawn by the glint of a precious metal.
"Halla who?"
"Ancient warrior; nice buns, no manners. He had the chain forged, link by link, in volcanic fire, specifically to hold demons. It's why I didn't realize H'sak was out of the mirror; the chain's working the same way."
"Is it holding him up as well?" Ciro wondered, leaning closer.
"No. There's a Lombardi Floating Disc under his head and another under his feet, and I'd love to know how Governor Andropof got a pair away from Vince. You didn't...?"
"No."
"Then it looks like you weren't the only thief he employed." Her eyes narrowed as she bent and scooped the dagger off the floor. "This is the Fell Dagger of Connackron, also called Demonsbane. And this..." With her free hand, she removed a cross section of bone from a hollow between the short horns extending out of the demon's forehead. "...is a piece of the thigh bone of Mighty Manderkew. You haven't seen the sacrificial bowl from the destroyed Temple of the Darkest Night have you?"
"It's under..." Ciro waved a hand more or less up and down the length of H'sak's body. "...him."
"Could you get it?"
Common sense suggested he point blank refuse to crawl under an unconscious demon confined by no more than two ounces of silver chain and held off the floor in the centre of an inoperative spiral by artifacts he couldn't see. Unfortunately, common sense got over-ruled by a desire not to look like a wuss in front of an attractive woman. It didn't help that green slime had dripped all over the floor from a wound in the demon's throat.
When he emerged, bowl clasped between sweaty hands, Magdelene took a quick look inside it, sighed with relief, and shook her head. "I don't know whether to be impressed or appalled. Governor Andropof must've been gathering this crap for years."
"Not quite." Recognition steadying his nerves, Ciro managed a matter-of-fact tone. "I stole this last summer from an inn in the Fourth City. They were using it as a serving bowl."
"They have much business?"
"Actually, no."
"Can't say as I'm surprised."
"Was the governor a wizard, then?"
"No. Just a cheap opportunist. The power's intrinsic to the artifacts. Demon blood shed with this knife into that bowl will open the way for one of the Demon Princes to leave the Netherhells. Once he gets here, the piece of thigh bone's a promissory note."
Mouth suddenly dry, Ciro stared into the bowl.
"Relax, I stopped him in time, and H'sak's almost healed." Magdelene rapped the demon almost fondly on the chest with the knuckles of the hand holding the bone. "Of course, after the note's redeemed there'll be a Demon Prince lose in the world."
"He wouldn't just go home?"
"Not likely; demons gain rank through slaughter."
"I didn't know that," he said, wishing he'd never had the opportunity to find out. "Now what?"
"Now, I think you'd better hold these for me." She held out the dagger and the bone. "H'sak seems to be waking up."
"I thought the chain was holding him?!"
"It is. But he was unconscious because he'd had his throat slit." A waggle of the dagger she was still holding out towards him directed Ciro's attention to the demon blood staining the blade. "It takes a lot to kill the demonkind, and unsuccessful attempts make them cranky. Now, if you don't mind, I may need both hands free."
On cue, H'sak's lips drew back off his teeth. A shudder ran the length of his body like a small wave.
"Both hands free," Ciro repeated. "Good idea." Sacrificial bowl from the destroyed Temple of the Darkest Night in his left hand, the Fell Dagger of Connackron and the thigh bone of Mighty Manderkew in his right, he backed out of the pentagram and continued moving back until his shoulder blades hit the wall.
Magdelene glanced up at the impact. "What are you doing all the way over there?"
"I'm a thief," Ciro reminded her. "I'm not good at confrontation."
"Whatever. Just hang onto that stuff until I get time to destroy it."
"Couldn't you just, you know, poof? Like the governor?"
"The governor wasn't a magical artifact. Wizardry doesn't affect them, it's why I had to come after the mirror myself."
"Then how?"
"I was thinking of using a hammer. Now, if you don't mind..." She turned her attention back to the demon.
Ciro watched the eight-inch claws flexing at the end of arms that no longer looked quite so limp and decided that being able to raise even one hand in his own defense was better than nothing at all. He dropped the bone and the dagger into the bowl.
A barely viscous drop of demon blood rolled off the blade.
H'sak jerked. His eyes blazed red. "The way is open!"
In the silence that followed, Ciro was pretty sure he heard his heart stop beating.
"You know," Magdelene told him, "I had pretty much decided that bringing me here and opening the door made up for stealing my mirror."
The demon turned toward her. "You!"
"Who else?"
"There was a man... Oh wait," he snorted, "if there was a man I should've expected you to show up."
"You're in no position
to make smartass comments. A Prince approaches, compelled to answer a summons from the mortal world, and your blood was the instrument of his summoning. He's going to be royally pissed."
H'sak struggled impotently within the chain. "Your death will follow mine, Wizard," he growled. "And I will die happy knowing you are about to be torn limb from limb!"
"Suppose neither of us has to die?"
Ciro, who'd been watching a speck of darkness grow to the size of a dinner plate, cleared his throat as a cold wind began to blow from the center of it. "Uh, Magdelene, you'd better hurry."
"H'sak?"
"You're the most powerful wizard in the world," he sniffed, "you close the way."
"I can't close the way against the Prince's power."
"So?"
"So this is no time to sulk about being stuck in that mirror!"
The demon's lips drew back, exposing a double row of fangs. "I've been forced to endure your singing for almost two hundred years. I think this is a fine time to sulk."
"Suit yourself. Ciro, find the mirror, it has to be in the library." She smiled down at the demon as the thief began to search. "I'm thinking of studying opera."
H'sak cringed. "You win. What's the plan?"
"I release you from the chain so I can use it on his Highness, and you don't attack me from behind until I've finished with him."
"And what if he finishes you?"
"Then at least you're facing him on your feet."
"Deal."
Grasping one end of the chain, Magdelene began to unwind it.
With one eye on the circle of darkness, now the size of a wagon wheel, Ciro sidled toward the pentagram. "I found the mirror," he muttered, lips close to Magdelene's ear. "It's in pieces."
She leaned closer. "Don't tell, H'sak."
"Hadn't planned on it." He took a deep breath and lightly gripped her shoulders. "Magdelene, in case I don't get a chance to say this later, I'm sorry I took your mirror. I'm sorry about putting the bloody dagger in the bowl."
He looked so miserable she couldn't stay angry. Her expression softened. "I'd better send you away."
"Like the governor?"
"Only drier."
"No." The rising wind from the dark gate whipped her hair into her face. He caught a strand and tucked it gently behind her ear. "I'm responsible for this, it's only fair I stay."
Eyes half lidded, Magdelene sighed. "I only regret that..."
"Wizard! You haven't got time!" H'sak kicked his feet, jerking the chain still in Magdelene's hand. "And don't raise those eyebrows at me! You know what you haven't got time for! After two hundred years," he muttered as she took a quick look at the nearly open gate and began to frantically unwind the chain, "you'd think that the novelty would've worn off."
Free, the demon rolled off the Lombardi Discs as the darkness fully dilated. Hooking his claws in the back of Ciro's shirt, he yanked the thief to the far side of the room and dropped him. "The man is out of the way," he hissed as a glittering figure began to take shape in the gateway. "You'll only get one chance. Don't screw it up."
In answer, Magdelene leaned into the wind and snapped the chain out to its full length. Wrapped around H'sak, the links had only gleamed, but now, they blazed. She waited, eyes locked on the materializing Prince, noting the full thick fall of golden hair, the broad shoulders, the rippled stomach, the slender waist, the...
"What are you doing?!" H'sak shrieked. "Waiting to see the whites of his eyes?!"
"Not quite," Magdelene murmured and flicked the chain forward.
The Prince howled with laughter as the delicate links traced a spiral around him from neck to knees. "Foolish little wizard, you cannot hold..." His eyes widened, showing only onyx from lid to lid. "This is impossible! This toy is intended to contain the lesser demons!" He writhed in place. "I am a prince!"
Trying very hard not to be distracted by the writhing, Magdelene held out her arms at shoulder height and brought her palms together. The gate began to close.
The prince stopped struggling. The perfect lines of his face smoothed out as he began to concentrate. The light of the chain began to dim. "You think you have power enough to keep me from this world?" he sneered as link after link went dark. "You think you can defeat m..."
The gate closed.
"Apparently," Magdelene said, twitching her skirt back into place.
Remembering how to use his legs, Ciro leapt to his feet and started forward. "Magdelene, you were magnificen..."
Magdelene turned, knowing exactly what she'd see.
"Now, we make a new bargain," H'sak announced, claws forming a cage around Ciro's head, their tips just barely into the skin of his throat.
Magdelene sighed. "You may find this hard to believe, H'sak, but I'm going to miss you."
The demon frowned. "I have the man."
Folding her arms over the purple vest, she tapped one red leather sandal against the floor.
H'sak withdrew his claws one at a time. Slowly. So that it didn't look as if he were making any sudden moves.
"Thank you."
Ciro's heels thumped back onto the floor, and he swayed in the rush of air that filled the space where the demon had been. "Where did you send him?"
"The Netherhells." She pursed her lips sympathetically at the collar of shallow punctures. "I'd have done it years ago, but I didn't know the way."
"And now you do?" He glanced over to where the gate had been.
"Now I do."
Ciro managed a shaky smile. "That ought to terrify them."
"I don't see why it should," Magdelene protested. "If they don't bother me, I won't bother them. Shall we gather up the bits and pieces and get out of here?"
The guards were still asleep outside the library door. Magdelene woke them, helped them up onto their feet, and made a suggestion Ciro was rather glad he hadn't heard given the reaction of two strong men.
No one tried to stop them from leaving the building. No one paid them any attention at all until they were past the civic fountain.
"My eyes see Her!"
"Hard work and chastity," sighed the most powerful wizard in the world. "I don't think so." She squeezed Ciro's hand, and disappeared.
A heartbroken wail went up from the crowd. A weeping woman grabbed the thief's arm. "You were with Her! Tell us, tell us, will She return?"
Gently, but firmly, he disentangled himself. And then he smiled. "You can bet on it."
* * * *
It took her a week to notice.
Ciro winced at the crack of displaced air and hoped the neighbours weren't home. This was exactly the sort of thing to get a normally quiet man an undeserved reputation. "Good afternoon, Magdelene."
"Don't good afternoon me, Ciro Rasvona, you little shit! You stole the gold hieroglyph of my name!"
He got slowly to his feet and held out his hand, the small gold plaque lying across his palm. "What," he asked, "can I possibly do to make amends?"
Cut off in mid-rant, Magdelene looked down at the plaque, up at the thief, and the corners of her mouth turned up into her best smile. "I'll think of something," she promised, stepping forward. "That had better be a lock pick in your trousers, 'cause you don't seem very happy to see me... oh, wait a minute... my mistake.
"I also took that big blue pearl," he murmured when he could catch his breath.
"And the crystal gryphon?"
"No, but I'm willing to go back for it..."
[Publisher’s note: “Mirror, Mirror, on the Lam” is the third story in chronological order. To go to the fourth chronological story, jump to “Third Time Lucky.” To continue in written order, proceed to the next page.]
Author’s Note for "We Two May Meet"
Of all the stories in this collection, "We Two May Meet" ended up with the most vigorous tweaking. Although the content remains unchanged, the actual writing was significantly smoothed out and about five hundred words were added. I can only hope – because I certainly don't remember – that the original was
this sketchy due to word count limitations rather than just general sketchy writing. (When a writer is asked to do a story for an anthology, they're given the required word count, usually a range between, say, 3,500 and 8,000 words. WTMM was 8,300 words before I started expanding things.)
This, the seventh and last of the Magdelene stories, was written for the DAW 30th Anniversary Fantasy Anthology. It was due September 30th, 2001 – which means I started writing it right after 9/11. About three quarters of the way through, I realized it was a story about survivor guilt.
We Two May Meet
Magdelene was beside herself when she woke that first morning home from Venitcia – which wasn't really surprising as she'd never been much of a morning person. If truth be told, she was more of a mid-afternoon, heading into cocktail hour kind of a person.
What was surprising was that the self she was beside appeared to be snoring.
* * * *
"Mistress?" Kali's red eyes widened as two wizards walked into the kitchen – identical but for the fact that one had her thick chestnut hair pulled back into a tight bun and seemed to be wearing an outfit in which all the items not only complemented each other, but covered her from neck to knees. The demon housekeeper turned to the other wizard, whose hair fell in the usual messy cascade and who was wearing a vest and skirt in virulently opposing shades of green. "Mistress, there are two of you."
"No." Magdelene crossed the kitchen and pulled a mug embossed with the words the most powerful wizard in the world off the shelf. "There's still only one of me. I just seem to have gone to pieces."
Kali sighed, but said, as was expected, "Well, pull yourself together."
"Not without a cup of coffee."
"Very funny," the second Magdelene snorted. "But neither misplaced humour nor your unseemly addiction to that beverage is getting us any closer to solving our problem!"
"We've managed to determine that she's my un-fun bits," the first Magdelene informed the demon, sinking into a chair and reaching for a muffin.
"I hope you're not having butter on that!"
"Also my nagging, uptight bits."
"Mistress, how did this happen?"
