by Allan Cole
Novari dropped her eyes. “Me,” she said.
“Did the wizard do all this on his own?” I asked.
“No,” Novari said. “He’d made a bargain with a demon. A rogue, who’d broken away from his brothers.”
I’d guessed as much. The demon sounded like Lord Elam, a powerful wild demon I’d encountered in the WesternSeas.
“What happened to the demon?” I asked.
Novari laughed. There was no music this time. Only harsh cynicism. “What else?” she said. “The wizard killed him. He tricked the demon when he was done and stole his powers to add to his own.”
“Now the wizard was not only powerful,” I said. “But he had you.”
“Yes. He had me,” Novari said. “But to get me, he had to put my essence through several stages. First he created a magical lyre, because the lyre is the most pleasing and sensitive of all musical instruments. A breeze can pluck song from the strings. Even a soft breath. And the music it produces stirs emotion, commands it under some hands.
“Then he used the instrument to create a magical bird. A Lyre Bird. For its beauty. And its ability to mimic the voice of any creature in all the world.
In its magical state the lyre bird understands the deepest motivations and cares and sorrows of those it is close to.
“Finally he used the Lyre Bird to make me. A spirit whose primary form is a woman. Although I can shift among the three - lyre, bird and mortal - at will.”
“And so you were created to service the prince,” I said.
Novari answered: “Yes, to service the prince. But my most important duty was to serve the wizard.
“When the prince made me his sexual slave, he also enslaved himself. I could - and did - bring him every delight. I was all the wizard promised and more. There was no sex act I refused to perform or even suggest. From the moment of first penetration each day - when I bit my lip from the pain of being deflowered - I became more bawdy and imaginative by the hour. And by day’s end I’d participated in the foulest of acts.
“But the next day I was fresh again. Innocent in the eyes of my prince. Ready to be seduced and deflowered once more.
“As the perfect courtesan I serviced his pride as well. I praised his imagined strengths, ignored or denied his too many failings. He trusted me totally, for I was all things to him.
“Part of the spell used to create me required that I must always be truthful, so he even trusted me more. Of course, truth can wear many costumes. Some more pleasing than others. And my wizard master made certain I was skilled in the art of coloring the truth to fit his aims.
“At the wizard’s instructions I sparked ambition in the prince. I fanned that spark until it was a willing blaze. The prince set out to be a great conqueror. Armies marched. War spells were cast. And many a kingdom was forced to lower its banner and hoist his own.
“All this he accomplished without ever leaving the pleasure palace. I kept him happy. I kept him pliant. While the wizard directly waged the wars and ruled his growing kingdom.”
“And then it went wrong,” I said.
“Oh, yes,” Novari said. “Fairly swiftly, too. The wizard overextended the armies and the kingdom suffered a humiliating defeat. Several enemy monarchs united, invaded the realm and captured the prince and his wizard.”
“And you?” I asked. “Did they catch you as well?”
Novari’s features darkened at some shameful memory.
“Of course,” she said. “I was a possession. How could I flee?”
“What did the kings do?” I asked.
“They held trials and convicted the prince and his wizard of crimes against nature and the gods. I was a big part of that trial, portrayed as the evil enchantress - the succubus - who possessed the prince to bend him to the wizard’s will.
“The public hated all of us. But they seized on me as a symbol to hate most of all. I was blamed for all their monarch’s sins.
“All of us were found guilty and condemned.
“The prince was the lucky one. He was killed quickly, without pain.
“The wizard was tortured for many weeks. Then they cast a spell to keep him alive while they cut him to pieces and forced me to eat him scrap by scrap.”
She stopped. Her chest heaved. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Then she sighed and the sigh became the most mournful music I’d ever heard.
It wrenched at my heart, strummed my emotions as if they were musical strings.
I cast a shield and the lyre’s sigh faded.
I said, “And then?”
She seemed not to notice my cold tones.
“And then they raped me,” she said, flat.
“Mass rape.
“And I was a virgin for every man who assaulted me.”
Another long silence broken only by the crackling fire.
I said nothing. I refused to imagine the humiliation and pain she’d suffered. But I knew she spoke the truth. And that realization was as powerful as if she’d conjured a great spell to rock me.
I said, mouth suddenly dry, “But they didn’t kill you,” I said. “Somehow you survived.”
Novari smiled, grim. “Before, I was always under the wizard’s power. I was incapable of doing any magic that he did not command. I had no control over anything...”
She touched her breast. “Not my body.”
She touched her head. “Not my mind.”
She caressed the air. A soft sprinkle of strings. “Not my magic.”
Novari let the sound fade, then: “But while I was... being tortured... I found a spark of myself. And from that spark I forged a will. And I took something - a small something - from every man who raped me. I added that to my store, gathering strength and self purpose. I cast a spell causing much pity. I made it bigger until the pity became a certainty that anyone who slew me would suffer a terrible curse for killing such a beautiful spirit as myself.
“Even so, there was still strong feeling against me that I couldn’t overcome. So the wizards gathered to seek a solution. They couldn’t kill me. But I must cease to be a danger to anyone.
“So they took me to a small rocky island where I was exiled for all time. They advised me to take on my spirit form so I wouldn’t die from the elements or starvation.
“There I remained until not many years ago. I was a solitary spirit wisping across a bleak island a mortal would need no more than ten minutes to cross. I knew every inch of that island to the point of madness. Many times I so despaired that I nearly took on mortal form so I would die. But I knew that wouldn’t end my exile. For much wrong had been done to me.
“And I would be condemned forever to be an angry ghost, raging eternally against nothing.”
She looked at me. “Can you imagine anything worse?”
I shook my head. I honestly couldn’t.
Novari said, “With that peace denied me, I turned all my efforts on my magical abilities. I became quite good. Quite powerful.”
She giggled. “After all, I had plenty of time for improvement.”
I said, “And brooding.”
Novari nodded, solemn. “Oh, that I did. I brooded for centuries.”
“And you swore revenge?”
“Yes,” she said, flat.
“Those who harmed you are long dead,” I said.
Novari shrugged. “I have more ambition than mere revenge in me now,” she said.
“You’re using King Magon to carry out those ambitions?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“As a succubus?” I asked. “I mean, that’s what they accused you of. But that’s what you are, am I right?”
“More or less,” she said. “It’s more complicated than a simple yes or no.”
“How did you come upon King Magon?” I asked.
Novari grinned. “He came to me, actually,” she said. “He was a minor warlord who was trying to make a name for himself. He visited the island during a pirating expedition he’d raised.”
“And yo
u entered his dreams and possessed him,” I said.
She giggled, girlish. “It’s not all that bad for him,” she said.
“And he just happened to wander onto your island?” I said, doubting such a coincidence.
Novari shook her head. “I caused him to,” she said. “Not him, specifically. But someone like him.”
“How?” I asked. “You said you were far away. Too far for such a spell to reach.”
“I cast the spell before a storm,” she said, with just a touch of pride shining through.
“I’ve learned to use storms for such things.”
Now I understood what had happened when the ice storm caught us by surprise at AnteroBay. Still, a spell to lure a fool from his distant home is quite different from the magical firestorm she’d hurled across the land.
I was certain no single wizard could accomplish anything like it.
“Now, you’ve heard my story,” Novari said.
I didn’t answer. I stared into the fire - waiting.
The long seconds ticked away. She became frustrated.
“Don’t you want to ask me anything else?” she snapped.
“Yes,” I said.
Again I waited.
She squirmed. Then: “What a maddening woman! Ask me! Ask what you will.”
“Where are my men?” I demanded.
She sighed. “Is that all you can think of? Your precious men?”
“They are that,” I said. “To me anyway.”
“What about yourself?” she asked. “Aren’t you interested in what plans I might have in store for you?”
I shrugged. “I’ll worry about that after I’ve seen to the welfare of my people.”
She raised an eyebrow, mocking. “Such loyal concern touches me,” she said. “Pity they aren’t so loyal in return.
“One of them has betrayed you already.”
I didn’t question the truth of her declaration, as bitter as it was.
I made a sour face. “There’s always one,” I said. “I assume you’re accusing Lord Searbe. My Evocator.”
“The very one,” she said, eyes glittering.
“I’m surprised it’s only one, actually,” I said. “You’re a succubus, after all. That’s what you do. Magically seduce men... Or women.”
Novari’s lips parted, moist, mocking. “You know me, sister,” she said, arch.
“More than I want to,” I said.
She pouted. “You needn’t be cruel,” she said. “Besides, your precious Evocator didn’t need seduction. He was willing the instant my captains seized him.”
I leaped at this breech. “You admit it!” I snarled. “You admit you deliberately attacked my people. Slaughtered them. Tortured one until he died. And kidnapped another.”
I sneered. “And you speak to me of cruel wizards and kings!”
Instead of becoming angry, Novari flushed, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t cause it out of cruelty. It was necessary.”
“Torture was necessary?” I snarled.
“That was not my fault,” she snapped. “He was supposed to be brought to me unharmed. The men who took him were savages. They got out of hand. And if it’s any satisfaction to you, it cost them their lives. Your Evocator has been revenged.”
I nearly lost my temper. Not by half, he hadn’t!
As the anger rose to scorch my throat I felt her tense, felt the ethers swirl as she drew in power to strike me first if I should be so foolish as to attack.
I fought for control. Regained it. And felt her tension drain away.
I said, mildly as I could, “What has Lord Searbe told you? If it’s the purpose of my mission, why that was to see what kind of a threat your slavish king was to us. That’s not so innocent a purpose as I first claimed, to be sure. But it’s hardly a crucial revelation.”
Novari laughed, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, he babbled about all those things right off,” she scoffed. “Frankly, the particulars of your expedition were of no interest to me.”
“Then what did interest you?” I asked.
“Why you, of course,” she said. “Rali Emilie Antero. Soldier. Wizard. Adventurer. And more importantly, a woman.”
She leaned forward, eager. “I had to meet such a woman,” she said, glowing with excitement. “To dare and accomplish so much. As a mortal, not a spirit. Why, when I learned of you I knew immediately you are the one I’ve longed for all my life.”
A light hand touched my knee. “We could do such great things together, Rali,” she said. “Such great things!”
I pushed her hand away. I laughed, harsh. “If you see me as your life’s mate,” I sneered, “you have a poor way of wooing me. I suppose you can’t help it. You’re so used to relying on magical seduction you make a horrible comedy out of pleading your love as a mortal.”
I curled a lip. “But you tried magic first, didn’t you?” I accused. “You tried to invade my dreams. You came to me as my brother. And then as my brother’s wife, my dear friend. Then you had the gall to try to use my own dead mother against me.
“But you failed! In all attempts.”
She nodded. “That pleased me,” she said. “It would have spoiled it if I could have overcome you so easily by sorcery.”
“And so now you fall back on such charming tools as threats and intimidation?” I mocked.
“Look beyond my clumsiness if you can, Rali,” she pleaded. “In those matters I’m still very much a child. I have no social skills beyond a girl’s training for court.
“I am those hundreds upon hundreds of young girls with awkward ways and awkward expressions that it took to make me.
“My magical powers are so great you might mistake me for your equal in human experience. I’m not, Rali. But I can grow. I can learn.
“Give me that chance!”
She glowed with youthful sincerity, with a tender heart too easily and innocently displayed.
I sipped my brandy and turned my eyes to the fire, saying nothing.
She sat quietly for a time, hands gracefully folded in her lap.
Then she said, “I’ve come upon a great thing.”
I remained silent.
“I had hundreds of years to experiment and learn by those experiments,” she went on. “I had no books, no teachers, no term of apprenticeship. The island was barren of all life, other than shellfish in the pools and the fish in the seas. In other words, I only had raw nature to work with.
“I had light, heat, cold, air, earth, water and the forces created from their... motion. I’m uncertain of that word. But motion is the only one I can think of that describes the particles I sense flowing this way and that in all elements.”
I couldn’t help but let my eyes be drawn back to her. Her discussion was treading into the realm Janos Greycloak opened. Greycloak, who thought all natural and magical forces were merely different expressions of a single force acting in different ways.
How could she have come upon an insight so grand that until Greycloak no other had considered it? And in complete isolation at that?
“You know what I’m talking about, don’t you, Rali?” she said.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Your loyal Evocator told me you would,” she said. “He told me all about Orissa. Janos Greycloak. Your brother and mother and family. The Far Kingdoms. Your battle with the Archons. All of it. It was quite a stirring tale. Inspiring, as well.”
Lord Searbe, I thought, had been a busy little coward these past few days.
She shifted subjects. “You know there are other worlds, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Lord Searbe said you’d entered some in your battle with the Archons.”
“If you know,” I said, “why ask?”
“I can draw on those worlds for power,” she said.
“That’s what magic is,” I said, shrugging. “We reach into the Otherworlds and draw out the means to cast our spells.”
“No, I
mean real power. I mean enough to blast a mountain.”
“You can’t do that,” I said. “You said yourself that you used natural forces such as an already brewing storm to carry your biggest spells. And you can’t focus that. It’s sort of like casting bits of paper into the wind. You have to have a blizzard of those bits to make certain you hit your target. Like an shower of arrows on opposing troops.”
