We returned to the village for the night. "How was it?" the villagers asked.
"They told me 'demon conquest,'" I said angrily. "For this I have to give them all my information for five years."
Heads nodded. "That is the kind of bargain they drive."
"Why didn't you warn me that their Answer would be no good?"
"But it is good! It is only your understanding that is bad. Once you understand it, it will help you a lot."
"Well, right now we need a place for the night," I said sourly.
"I have a spare bed for you and your wife," a matron said. "And feed for your horses, if you will have them give my children a ride."
I looked at MareAnn. She nodded. "Done."
The children squealed with delight as the horses took them up over the trees and around. But I saw tears in MareAnn's eyes.
When we were alone in the bed I asked her about that, for she was normally cheerful. "I would like to have children like that," she said. "I never realized how appealing they are when they're having fun."
"But you can have children," I said. "All you have to do is—"
"Summon the stork," she finished bleakly. "And lose my unicorns."
We weren't using the unicorns now, but I appreciated her point. She faced a most expensive trade-off. I knew how painful that could be, now.
I put my free arm around her. "I'm sorry, MareAnn."
She wept into my shoulder, and I felt very protective. The price of innocence was becoming apparent.
Chapter 5
Dana
A shape loomed. "Excuse me, please."
"I think you have the wrong room," I said, annoyed by the interruption. "This bed is occupied." I had never really liked cold nights before, but now I delighted in them, for they brought MareAnn innocently close for warmth. A third person in the bed would have been too much warmth, however.
"You are the one who went to the oracle today?" It was a girl; I could tell by the dulcet voice. My irritation, surprisingly, began to fade. Perhaps more warmth would be satisfactory.
Still, I kept my voice reasonably sharp. "Yes. But right now we prefer not to converse with others."
"And they told you something about demons?"
Mare Ann tuned in to the proceedings. "Who are you?"
"I am Dana. I may be able to help you interpret that Answer."
Suddenly both of us were interested. We sat up in the bed, making room for another. "How so?" I asked.
She sat beside me. It was mostly dark, but I could tell by the way she shifted her weight and the touch of her thigh against mine and her musky perfume that she was an attractive woman. If only I had a better notion what a grown man might do with such a creature! "I know something about demons."
"You know what 'demon conquest' means?" MareAnn asked eagerly.
"No, but I can inquire if you wish."
"How can you do that?"
"I know the demons. They will tell me if they plan to conquer anything soon."
"You know demons?" I asked. "Aren't they mean folk?"
"They can be," Dana agreed. "But they can't hurt me."
"Why not?" I asked, becoming quite curious about this strange woman.
"Because I am a demoness myself."
MareAnn and I jumped. "You?" I asked, now trying to edge away from her. A demon or demoness could assume any form, including that of a person, but that did not mean that there was any other resemblance to a person. Demons were completely callous to the welfare of living folk. "We don't seek any quarrel with you!"
"Nor I with you," Dana said. "You see, I have a problem, and I thought we might be able to help each other."
"How can a demoness have a problem?" I asked, marveling at how much like a living person she seemed. Her body was warm, not cold, and solid rather than vaporous. This was my first direct contact with this species, and it was surprising me in unexpected ways. "You can assume any shape you desire, and you don't have to eat or sleep unless you want to."
"My problem is that I have a conscience."
"But demons don't have souls, so they can't have consciences," I protested. "I mean, they are made of soul material, so maybe it's bodies they lack, but the effect—" I broke off, because it was pointless to babble about the nature of demons to a demoness. She would quickly discover how little I knew about her kind.
"I have a soul."
"But—"
"I don't know how it happened. Maybe a soul got loose from a mortal, and I got caught in it or it got caught in me. I was a normal carefree female demon, and then suddenly I wasn't, because I was concerned about right and wrong. I could no longer play the demon games, because many of them aren't nice. So I went to the oracle to ask how to get rid of the soul, and the priest made me bring a basket of precious stones from the earth in payment, and then they told me that I would have to marry the King of Xanth."
"Marry the King!" I exclaimed. "Ebnez would never marry a demoness! Demons have been banned from association with kings ever since one messed up King Gromden in the seventh century."
"Yes, the Answer does not seem to be of much use to me," Dana said sadly. "I thought if I helped you, you might tell the King I'm not such a bad sort, and maybe he would change the rule and—"
I shook my head. "King Ebnez is a very righteous man. I could tell him, but there's really no hope of—"
"That is all I can ask of you: to tell him," she said. "In return I will do anything you want, provided it does not violate my conscience."
"How do we know you really have a soul?" MareAnn demanded. "I mean, demons can't be trusted about anything."
"Maybe a unicorn could tell if she's innocent," I said.
Dana laughed. "I'm not innocent! I was a normal demoness for centuries before I got souled. I couldn't get near a unicorn."
"Well, we can't afford to trust you without proof," MareAnn said.
"There's a soul sniffer in the North Village," Dana said. "I will fly there with you, if you wish."
"Exactly how can you help us?" I asked. The North Village was a long way away, and this might just be a demon ruse to make us waste our time with a long trip or to lure us into some trap. "It will have to be more than just asking the demons whether they plan to attack."
"I understand you are doing a survey."
"Yes."
"And that you expect trouble trying to talk with the Maenads."
"Yes. That's why we went to the oracle."
"I could assume your likeness and question the Maenads, or anyone else you wish. They can not hurt me."
Suddenly she was making sense! "Let's go to that magic sniffer, tomorrow," MareAnn said. "If Dana proves out, she can be a big help."
So it was decided. The demoness faded out, and we slept, warmly. Next morning we mounted the horses and flew swiftly north, and Dana paced us in the form of an extinct reptilian bird, needing no steed. She resumed human form when we landed, so that no one would know her for what she was.
There was indeed a soul sniffer at the North Village, which was in other respects a thoroughly unremarkable hamlet. But it wasn't a person or animal, as I had expected; it was a place. "Go down the path to the west to the Key Stone Copse," the village elder told us. "There is a key there which only a person with a soul can use to open the door.''
"That's all?" I asked. "Just a door?"
"Just a door," the man agreed.
"What's beyond it?"
"We're not sure."
"You're not sure?" I found this hard to believe. "Haven't you gone there to see?"
"There used to be a nice valley with wonderful orangeberry patches; our women and children went often to pick them. But the last three who went, two months ago, did not return. We fear that the door has become one-way, so we are now staying clear of it.”
"But maybe those folk are in trouble!" I said. "Someone should go and see!"
He merely shrugged and turned away. So much for community spirit.
"Sometimes I wonder whether souls are
as positive as they are supposed to be," MareAnn muttered. "Maybe his has gotten old and worn."
We rode the horses along the path to the west. Soon we came to a dense thicket whose trees and thorny branches were so tangled that we could not see through, and certainly could not pass. The only possible way through was a stone door- set in it. On a hook on the door hung a large wooden key.
I lifted the key from its hook, and paused. "Suppose they only think this is limited to folk with souls? Maybe anyone can use it, and it's no real test."
"Oh, it's valid," Dana said. "All the demons know of it."
"But you're a demon, and you could be lying—no offense," I said.
"No offense," she agreed. "I could bring a friend to test it—another demoness."
I wasn't sure about this, but had nothing better to offer. I replaced the key. "Do it."
She disappeared. In a moment she reappeared. Beside her was another demoness, who was just as shapely in her human form. Male demons, I understood, delighted in horrendous fearsome forms, while female demons preferred voluptuous partly clothed forms. My experience was confirming the latter case. "This is my friend Metria," Dana said.
"I'm not your friend!" Metria protested. "Demons don't have friends!"
"Demons without souls don't have friends," Dana said. "Perhaps I should say that I am your friend, because I will not betray you, but you are not my friend, because you will betray me in the normal demon fashion."
"That's right," Metria agreed. "How can you look at your cat in the mirror, talking like that?"
"Look at my what?"
"Your feline, tiger, torn, kitty—"
"My puss?"
"Whatever. You aren't talking like a demon at all!"
"Yes. But I'm trying to get rid of my soul by helping these good human folk. I appreciate your coming here to—"
"I came only because there's a chance to make fools of you and these mortal idiots. I love a good laugh at someone else's expense."
Dana turned to me. "I chose D. Metria because she always tells the truth, as you can see."
"But how can she be truthful, when she has no soul?" Tasked.
"A soul does not necessarily make one truthful," Dana said. "Many human folk are liars. It merely gives them a conscience, so that they suffer when they do wrong."
"Yes, I find that the truth is the sharpest knife with which to cut people," Metria said. "Nothing shakes folks' values like the truth!"
I looked at MareAnn. She spread her hands. It was evident that our values were being shaken.
"Well, let's get on with it," I said. I reached for the key again.
"Wait, we should have the demons try it first," MareAnn said. "It's Dana who is being tested, not us."
Dana reached for the key. "No, Metria should try it first," I said.
"Fine with me," Metria said. She reached for the key. Her fingers closed on it, but passed right through it. "I can't seem to get a tentacle on this thing," she said, disconcerted.
"A what?" I asked.
"Appendage, extremity, limb, mitt, paw—"
"Oh, a hand," I said.
"Whatever. This key is an illusion; I can't touch it at all."
"That's the way it works," Dana said. "I thought you understood."
Metria glared at her. "You may be an old bag of a century or two, but I appeared only a decade or two ago. I never heard of a phantom key."
Dana glanced at us. "She tells the truth about everything except her age. That's not considered lying, in females."
"Of course it isn't!" Metria agreed. "Women have a right to be any age they want."
"That's true," MareAnn said.
I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to admit to having been ignorant about this female privilege.
"Well, you try it," Metria said, glaring at Dana.
Dana reached for the key. Her fingers closed on it. She lifted it from the hook. She brought it down to the lock.
"Wait," I said. "Let me make sure that really is the key." I held out my hand.
Dana gave it to me. I brought it to the lock, inserted it, and turned it. It resisted, seeming to want to come back out of the lock without completing its action, as if there were a spring behind it. I pushed it in farther, and maintained pressure, so as to complete the turn.
The door moved without moving. That is, it fogged out, and I stumbled through, because I had been pushing against the key. In a moment I was through, yet the door remained in place.
I caught my balance and turned back. There was the door. I put my hand against it, and found it solid. The key was gone from my hand.
But there it was, hung up on the hook on this side of the door. It had magically returned after being used.
But if it was now on this side, then what was on the other side? Could only one person be on this side at a time?
I reached for the key—and had to jump back, because Dana Demoness suddenly popped through, colliding with me. It was a painless collision, because she was marvelously well padded in front.
"Oops," she said, and turned to smoke. I smelled her pleasant essence as it brushed by my nose. Then she reformed a bit away. "It changed so fast!"
I knew the feeling. But I had another question. "The key—how could you use it, when it was on this side?"
"It was back on its hook on the other side," she said. "There must be two keys."
"MareAnn's alone with Demetria," I said, starting to be alarmed.
"Metria doesn't hurt folk physically. She does it all verbally or with illusion. She's probably tired of this game now." Dana looked around. "Odd that we can't get through that thicket wall. Normally, solid things are no barrier to demons. There must be special magic here, making it a demon-proof glade."
Then MareAnn stumbled through. I caught her before she fell. "It was so—" she started.
"I know," I finished.
Then the three of us turned to look at where we were. The thicket arched up high overhead, forming a dome that blocked the direct rays of the sun without cutting off the light; brilliance wafted down to touch the ground. On the ground orangeberry bushes grew, covered with fat berries.
"What a lovely place!" MareAnn exclaimed. "Let's eat some berries before we depart."
We walked to the bushes and started picking and eating. Dana did too. "I never realized what fun eating could be," she said. "Of course the food does me no good, so I shouldn't waste it."
"What happens to what you eat?" I asked, my curiosity manifesting again.
"I just hold it inside me as long as I'm solid. When I turn vaporous—" She fogged. "It drops out." Sure enough, a pile of chewed berries plopped to the ground.
We picked and ate with a will. The berries were delicious. Then MareAnn screamed.
"What?" I asked, hurrying over to join her.
She pointed. There, lying half hidden under the bushes, was a collection of bones.
Dana came across. "Oops," she said. "Those are human bones. Now we know what happened to those last three villagers: they died here."
"Are the berries poisonous?" I asked, abruptly horrified for more than one reason.
"Not that I know of," Dana said. "We demons are pretty good with poisons, and I didn't taste any."
"Then what made them die?" MareAnn asked, shuddering.
"Maybe there's an ogre in here," I said, looking around much more nervously than before.
"Let's get out of here," MareAnn said.
We started back toward the door. But there, between it and ourselves, was a pack of ferocious animals. They had the heads of wolves and the bodies of spiders, and were about half man height.
"Wolf spiders!" Dana exclaimed. "They can't hurt me, but they are surely dangerous to you."
"Now we know how the villagers died," I said grimly, feeling for my knife. But it seemed quite inadequate to the defense.
Five spiders advanced in the line. One remained behind to guard the stone door. Evidently they were experienced in trapping prey. Their technique and the
bones indicated that.
MareAnn clung to me. "Oh, Humfrey, what can we do? I can't summon the horses here; they can't get in!"
I drew my knife. It seemed even less adequate than before. For one thing, I was no fighter, and for another, the blade was only as long as one of the enemy fangs. Even if I got in a lethal strike, that would stop only one spider.
Could we flee? No, the glade was entirely enclosed. This was an ideal hunting ground for the wolf spiders.
We would just have to fight and die, as the villagers had before us. "Stay behind me," I said. "Maybe I'll be able to occupy them long enough for you to sneak to the door." It was an almost futile hope, but the best that offered.
"Oh, Humfrey, I love you," she said.
"You two are acting as if I'm not here," Dana said. "Both of you get behind me."
Numbly, we did so. She assumed the form of a fierce fire-breathing dragon. She swung her head toward the nearest spider and fired out a jet of flame.
But the spider merely leaped aside, and the flame missed. Meanwhile the others closed in from the sides. It was obvious that not even a dragon could stop them all. A dragon could not guard all sides at once.
"A basilisk!" I whispered. "Can you do that?"
"Shield your eyes," the dragon whispered back. Then it became a tiny lizard with wings.
Mare Ann and I clapped our hands to our eyes. It was death to meet the gaze of a bask!
But could the demoness actually kill with her glance? Fire was essentially nonmagical, and she could generate that by forming the innards of a dragon, but the death glance was magical, and demons didn't possess that type of magic. If the spiders caught on—
The basilisk hissed and swung its little head toward the spiders. The spiders did several double takes, then scrambled out of the way. The bluff was working!
Then one spider, perhaps a smidgen smarter than the rest, balked. He had seen the demoness, and then the dragon, and then the bask. He was catching on that it might be illusion. If he called the bluff, we would be in trouble again.
Dana-bask glared at him. He met her gaze. He did not die. He opened his wolf mouth to sound the charge.
Question Quest Page 7
