Thrice Bound

by Roberta Gellis

  "Ah, here she is," Persephone said.

  Hekate turned quickly in the direction where Acteon had disappeared. Coming toward her was a small girl, quick and light as a bird in her movement. She had curly hair, cut quite short, and large, luminous, dark eyes. Smiling, she came right to the foot of the dais and asked how she could help Hades and Persephone.

  "We have a strange problem here, Eurydice," Hades said. "This young man—" he gestured at Kabeiros "—is a shape-shifter, but outside of these caves he is locked into the form of a black dog."

  "Locked in?" Eurydice's voice was light as her step, soothing and pleasant. She turned and took Kabeiros' hand. "I never heard of such a thing, but then, I never met a shape-shifter until I came into the underworld." She stared earnestly into Kabeiros' eyes and then shook her head. "I can feel nothing wrong. Your body is sound."

  "It is not my body but my organ of power that is affected," Kabeiros said.

  Eurydice closed her eyes. After a moment she said, "Yes. Yes. I . . . there is a film, a web . . ." She shuddered and opened her eyes, then suddenly, with a little gasp, let go of Kabeiros' hand and stepped back.

  "You know what spell is crippling him, don't you?" Hekate asked softly. "Can you remove it?"

  "It shouldn't need to be removed." Eurydice's voice was high and frightened. "It should die of itself. It should never have attached itself to his power." She swallowed. "I have no idea how such a thing happened."

  Hekate's heart fluttered. She was torn between hoping that Eurydice was lying about not knowing how the spell could be bound to the power source within a person and knowing that if she was lying she would deny having such a spell. Her only hope of convincing Eurydice to open up to her was to deal with the matter in private. She must convince Eurydice of her need for the spell and the need for Eurydice to remove the spell from Kabeiros, neither of which would be possible if she exposed Eurydice as knowing a draining spell. That knowledge wouldn't be welcome, even in the caves of the dead where the spell probably wouldn't work.

  "Eurydice," Hekate said gently, "Kabeiros needs his freedom. He has lived bound to me and to the form of a dog for a very long time. Won't you examine his problem and see if you can devise a spell that will remove this curse from him?"

  "I never devised a spell in my life," Eurydice breathed, large eyes even larger with fright. "My finding and my healing, those are Gifts. And I have the power to work magic spells also, but I can only use those I have learned. I . . . I don't know how to devise a spell."

  Hekate smiled. "That I can teach you, if you are willing to learn. Will you come aside with me and Kabeiros? I fear we have already taken far too much of Lord Hades' and Lady Persephone's time. I can see their people are growing impatient for their attention."

  "Not impatient," Hades said. "The dead are very patient, but they have their problems, as do those of the upper world and to each his own problem is the most important. Eurydice, you know you are free here to do as you please. Are you willing to go aside with Hekate and Kabeiros?"

  "Oh, yes," Eurydice said, her voice stronger. "If I can help, of course I must."

  "And if you need power, child, you only need to tell me," Persephone said, "and I will feed you."

  Hekate wondered who could need power when the whole cavern was nearly drowned in it, but she said nothing. She remembered how surprised Kabeiros had been when she saw the veins of earth-blood in the other caverns so long ago, and remembered also that the Olympians didn't seem aware of the sea of earth-blood in which they lived. Perhaps it was just as well. She shuddered to think what Olympians would do with unlimited power. Then she remembered something else, that Hermes had brought them and might well be growing impatient, not being one of the dead.

  She looked around for him and saw him talking earnestly to Acteon. "I'm sorry to keep you so long, Hermes," she said, coming close and touching his arm. "Can I use your spell to leap home from here? If so, you need not wait for me and Kabeiros. We will be a while longer, I fear."

  "It doesn't matter," Hermes said. "Acteon tells me that a saurima has been bedeviling the moss gatherers in one of the upper caverns, so a-hunting we will go. If you get hungry or thirsty, Hades will arrange for food and drink from the upper world to be brought to you. They have a store of such things for invited guests."

  Hekate nodded, thanked him, and said that when he wanted her he would find her in Eurydice's quarters. Then she went back to where Eurydice and Kabeiros waited. He was assuring her that he didn't blame her for his plight.

  "It was a man who cast the spell on me," he said, "and Hekate thinks that he may have done something even more foul. He may have stolen the body of a younger man and sent that man's spirit to perish in his outworn flesh."

  "That is terrible, terrible," Eurydice whispered. "Oh, sometimes I understand why the Greeks hate magic so. It must seem to them that the only safety lies in extirpating the ability completely."

  "Throwing out the baby with the bath water?" Hekate suggested, smiling. "By destroying all magic, they also destroy healing, which does much good."

  She won a small smile from Eurydice, who then led them to the right and back behind the dais to enter the open side of the bronze gate. To the right was that gleam of brighter light that betokened an open door; women's voices and laughter came from there. Hekate's head turned in that direction, but Eurydice touched her arm and led her to the left.

  "Arachne and her weavers are in those rooms. They seldom close the door when Hades holds court." Eurydice smiled a small, mischievous grin. "I think they have a few very keen-eared women and they listen to what goes on."

  "It hardly seems worthwhile," Hekate said. "The court is open. Why not attend it if they're curious?"

  Eurydice shrugged and grinned. "Perhaps it makes them seem more mysterious . . . you know, shut away weaving but they still know everything." Hekate laughed and Eurydice smiled again. Pointing to the door to the corner room, she added, "Koios' chamber. It is closest to Hades' own rooms, which are down the square corridor we passed. He is so crippled, poor Koios. Sisyphus is next, but he is rarely here."

  "Sisyphus." Hekate frowned. "I've heard that name."

  "Oh, yes. He got into a terrible quarrel with Zeus and . . ." She stopped, folded her lips, went on. "He's much better off here. He's the chief miner, and aside from Hades telling him what ores are in greatest demand he does pretty much as he pleases. Mostly he lives near the mines. Orpheus and I are at the far end so Orpheus can practice. In the beginning, we were out in the general living quarters, although near the great hall so I could be summoned for healing, but everyone stopped what they were doing to listen every time Orpheus began to play, so Hades moved us in here."

  She opened the door as she spoke. Hekate stepped in and then aside, Eurydice followed, touching a column of stone near the door that immediately came alight. Last came Kabeiros who shut the door behind them. Eurydice spoke a soft word, and a myriad of tiny sparks lit the ceiling. The room was now bright as day.

  "How lovely," Hekate said.

  "Hades sets the spell, but I don't know what kind of spell—there don't seem to be any special commands or symbols—and then a key word is all one needs to cause the lights to come awake."

  "That's the way it is for all magic that comes from a Gift," Hekate said.

  Eurydice smiled again, gesturing toward a small table with a polished top that had four stools around it, and said, "Sit, please."

  On the other side of the small room two comfortable chairs with leather seats and backs faced each other, but there were only two, and Hekate understood why Eurydice had chosen the stools around the table. She went to one. Eurydice sat next, and Kabeiros sat next to her, across from Hekate.

  "I know the draining spell too," Hekate said softly.

  Eurydice drew a sharp breath and hugged her arms around herself. "I never told anyone. And I never used it, except that once. Never."

  Hekate nodded acknowledgement and acceptance. "I believe you, or you wouldn't be
so beloved of Hades and Persephone. I have never used it either. But I also got the spell from Baltaseros or, I should say, from his grimoire."

  "Then you know everything about the spell that I do, Lady Hekate." Eurydice shivered. "He was draining me. You don't know how terrible that is."

  Only Hekate did know. She had seen it happen to her mother, seen her life drawn out of her drop by drop until poor Asterie was no longer really a person. But she didn't speak, not wanting to distract Eurydice.

  "He found me in a village not far from Lysamachia," the girl continued, eyes fixed on her knotted hands on the table. "And he told me he would make me his apprentice and teach me much magic that I didn't know. I went with him, like a fool, all unwarded. And he put a compulsion on me so that I couldn't leave and whenever he needed more power, he drained me. He—" she lifted her dark eyes and they glittered with rage and revulsion "—he forced me into his bed too."

  Hekate covered Eurydice's hands with her own and Kabeiros leaned forward and patted her shoulder.

  "I pretended to be completely broken, following him about and pressing attention and service on him. He liked . . . No, I don't think I need tell you that—"

  "I don't think we need to hear it. We met Baltaseros, Kabeiros and I, and know what kind of creature he is."

  Eurydice sighed. "He grew accustomed, contemptuous of me, and he was often drunk or drugged and careless. I found the grimoire." She hesitated, almost smiled. "It had some very good spells in it—a freezing spell that I have often used. It is wonderful if one must set a bone or cut out a putrid place. The victim never feels any pain. And a look-by-me spell . . . And then I found the draining spell."

  She fell silent, her face white, her lips dry.

  "And you had to get away. And you used it on him. I don't blame you, Eurydice, but I need to know—I will tell you why before you tell me. I need to know how you made the draining spell permanent. All these years—ten? twenty?—and Baltaseros still has no more power than the totally unTalented. He knows the spells, but he cannot even light a candle with magic."

  "No," Eurydice cried, shaking her head. "I didn't. I swear I didn't. I used the spell just as it was in the grimoire . . . oh, I think I did. I was so frightened and in such pain. He was mounted behind me, hurting me dreadfully, making me grip him so he could thrust harder . . . and I just said it. I said it twice . . ." Her voice broke and she began to sob. "Oh, poor Baltaseros. He was disgusting, horrible, but I never meant to punish him so dreadfully as that. I just meant to drain him so deeply that he would be unable to pursue me for a few days, and then I ran south, into the Cheresonesos and there I met Orpheus and found a new life."

  "Do you remember the spell you spoke, Eurydice?"

  The girl looked at her with haunted eyes. "How could I forget?" she whispered.

  Hekate sighed. "I know the spell from the grimoire and I know it exactly. I . . . There is a compulsion on me that prevents me from ever forgetting a spell. Tell me the spell you used so I can see in what way the spells differ or if it was the double casting that made the difference . . ."

  Eurydice withdrew her hand from Hekate's clasp and cast an angry glance at Kabeiros. "No! It is bad enough to drain the power from a person, but to do so forever . . . No. I won't help you do that!"

  "It's nothing to do with Kabeiros," Hekate said hastily. "We aren't seeking revenge for the hurt done him, I swear it."

  "Then why is he here?" Eurydice asked coldly.

  Hekate blinked. "He is here because we are always together." She had to stop for a moment and swallow as the thought came that free, he would leave her. "And because I knew you had the spell and thought you might know a way to remove it as well as cast it."

  "I told you," Eurydice said. "I only know spells I have been taught. There was no removal spell in the grimoire, and why should there be? The draining only lasts as long as one embraces the victim. When caster and victim part, the victim slowly recovers . . ." She looked stricken. "Or so I thought." She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath. "I always recovered when he left me."

  "So it seemed to me it would be from reading the spell and from studying its parts. Naturally I haven't cast it. But I need a spell that . . . from which the victim will never recover."

  "No!" Eurydice said, leaning away from them.

  "It's not for myself. I don't want the power!" Hekate shuddered and swallowed sickly. "It's blood-magic power. I couldn't bear it."

  "Hekate," Kabeiros said. "Begin at the beginning and tell her."

  She looked at him, face pallid.

  "No child is responsible for its parents," he said with a half smile.

  "There is a very, very strong and very, very evil sorcerer in a land called Ka'anan. That man was my father . . . is my father . . ." Hekate began.

  She told Eurydice how Perses had drained her mother, what he had planned to do to her so that she had been forced to flee and take sanctuary in the caves of the dead where she had met Kabeiros and why many years later they had returned to the caves of the dead, what she discovered Perses had done to seize power in Byblos, and for a long time how he had seemed to be satisfied but that he now planned to slaughter at least a hundred people to drink their life-force so he could prolong his own life in the stolen body of an innocent.

  "I cannot permit that. I cannot! Still, he is my father," Hekate concluded. "I cannot simply kill him, nor can Kabeiros kill him for me—the Kindly Ones are too clever to be deceived by such a ruse. All I can do is take away his power and any ability that he might in the future regain his power, which will render him harmless. I beg you to help me, Eurydice. I swear on my poor mother's soul, on my favor from the Mother of us all, on whatever you wish me to swear on, that I will never use the spell on any other person or being, or that, if a case equally monstrous arises that would necessitate its use, that I will come here and explain to you and gain your permission before I use the spell."

  In the beginning Eurydice had listened almost in silence, except for a brief expression of dismay now and again. However, toward the end of the tale, she had begun to look very thoughtful.

  "You say that now this Perses plans to slaughter hundreds to prolong his life and you cannot bear it, but he has already done so one or two at a time and you . . . looked the other way. Why is this different?"

  Hekate stared at the seemingly young woman, her short curly hair and soft mouth childlike, her luminous eyes sad . . . old . . . but she didn't speak. Only what little color had been in her face as she told her story drained away. The hand lying on the table trembled; Kabeiros put his over it firmly.

  "You are a very powerful mage," Eurydice added softly. "You know more magic and in some ways have more power than the gods of Olympus. Zeus himself does your bidding without argument and has made no attempt to drive you out, although I know that Zeus does not love magic. So why have you watched your father torture and destroy . . . hundreds . . . over the years and done nothing? Because they were themselves evil? Did their crimes make his less? But many were not evil. Many were only poor and helpless—"

  "Stop," Kabeiros said, getting up and going to where he could stand beside Hekate and put an arm around her. His eyes were very bright, fixed on Eurydice, his lips drawn back, and his voice carried a touch of the snarl of an angry dog. "She has helped as many as he has hurt. And it was only a little time ago that we found the spell for which she had searched since she fled Perses."

  Eurydice blinked at him. "I don't hurt unless I must to heal," she said. "I cause pain when I treat a wound or set a broken limb. But my purpose is to help."

  "Because I am afraid," Hekate said. She clutched Kabeiros' arm tighter around her, shivering. "Don't tell me it's ridiculous. Do you think I don't know it? I know how strong I have grown both in power and knowledge. And you are right, Eurydice. I don't fear Zeus or any of the other Olympians. Oh, I know that if they combined they could overwhelm me, but I also know that if I give them no reason to hate me, they will leave me in peace. Perses would not."
<
br />   "No, but there is only one of him," Eurydice said.

  "And I will be there, Hekate," Kabeiros promised, leaning down as if he would enfold her with his body. "I will savage him, distract him. And Dionysos will cloud his mind with panic."

  "You are speaking reason," Hekate cried, pushing back the stool and getting to her feet, turning and trying to shrink more deeply into Kabeiros embrace. "In this there is no reason." Her wild cry sank to a whisper as she admitted, "I am afraid! I am afraid! And if I fear, my spells will fail . . . I will forget them . . . I will misspeak them so they lash back at me." She turned in Kabeiros' arms to face Eurydice again, screaming, "Don't you understand? I am afraid."

  "Yes," Eurydice said softly. "I do understand. Some healings take me too deep and I fear I will lose myself, so I understand. But now it is too late for you to find other reasons to avoid a confrontation. You must face that fear and master it." She paused and looked down at her own hands, knotting and unknotting on the table. Then she said, "Some day you will. Sit down, and I will give you the spell that I used against Baltaseros."

  CHAPTER 25

  With considerable mental agility Hekate managed to avoid thinking about what Eurydice had forced her to expose. She had always admitted that she was afraid of her father; she had said so to Kabeiros several times over the years. Perses was a great mage and only the worst kind of fool would not fear him. She had admitted being afraid of Medea and cautious about Aietes and the Olympians. What she had not admitted was that the fear of Perses went much deeper. It was like a black fungus growing in every hidden corner of her soul.

  Some day she would have to confront him . . . Yes, but that day wasn't yet and she filled her mind with peripheral matters—not so far from the confrontation with Perses as to rack her with guilt, but far enough away that the dread moment still seemed quite distant.