Incarnations of Immortality

by Anthony, Piers

  Then, abruptly, the image brightened. The woman became Niobe, in color, though tinged with the red of the wine's eye. The four youths barged into the scene, ghostly yet clear. The early stages of the molestation were reenacted. Niobe felt Cedric wince as the wine was poured over her figure's head; he had the same bad associations that she did.

  "So this is your 'no reason,'" the Prof murmured, glancing at the youths.

  At the height of the struggle, Cedric entered the picture. Now, seeing him more objectively, Niobe was even more impressed with his demeanor. He had indeed been growing; he seemed inches taller than he had been the day of his marriage, and was now a young giant of a man. He was so handsome in his righteous anger that a nimbus seemed to surround him. Or was that the wine-haze?

  Niobe saw now that Cedric had actually invited them to grab his arms, and had deliberately accepted the first blow. She saw the youth who had struck him pull back, shaking his right hand as if it had been hurt. Then Cedric started to fight, and in moments it was over. Bare-knucks champ? Surely so!

  The scene ended and the vapor dissipated into invisibility. But the evidence was in. "Clean out your rooms," the Prof directed the youths. "You will be discharged from this institution with prejudice; your illicit wine has condemned you." They scrambled up and sheepishly departed.

  The Prof turned to Cedric. "You were intelligent to provide them the initiation of the combat; now there will be no question of abuse of your power. You were aware that folk of your prowess are enjoined from abusing it?"

  Cedric nodded soberly. "I knew I had cause, but if I killed anyone—"

  "You had cause, and you did not kill anyone," the Prof agreed. "I commend you on your discretion. Now take your wife to the guest house; she is in need of cleaning and comfort."

  Indeed, now that the threat was over, Niobe was suffering a reaction. She had almost been raped—and Cedric had been set upon by four men! Never before in her life had she been exposed to violence like this. She put her face in her hands, and discovered it wet with tears, reddened by wine. She tried to wipe them away, but they just got worse, and soon she was openly sobbing.

  Cedric picked her up and carried her to the guest house. She felt his arms like flexible steel, and his chest and stomach like iron; he was seventeen now, coming into the flush of his physical potential. Growing...

  She had locked in the image of a boy, and never observed the emerging man.

  He set her carefully down on the bed of the guest house. "I will fetch the nurse," he said, concerned. "You are hurt."

  But she clung to him. "Cedric, I need you!" she cried.

  "I love you!"

  He paused. "You're upset, Niobe, with reason. A bath and some rest—"

  She drew him down, desperately. "I've been such a fool, and I reek of wine! Forgive me, Cedric!"

  "There is nothing to forgive," he said gently. But he allowed himself to be brought down to her until he was lying beside her on the bed. "You have always been perfect, Niobe," he added, murmuring into her ear.

  She rolled onto him, hugging him close. Her tear-wet lips found his and she kissed him with a passion that astonished her. Her breast was suffused with reaction and emotion; she could not get enough of him. He responded, as he had to, to the fire other desire, kissing her in return.

  Suddenly she laughed. Startled, he lifted his head to look at her questioningly.

  She sat up, reached for his shirt, and unbuttoned it. "There!" she said, smiling. "I have had the first blow."

  Slowly he smiled. "But this is no fight."

  "Isn't it? We have been trying to do this for most of a year, and have always been defeated by our own reticence. Cedric, you have fought for me, most valiantly and effectively, and now you have won me. Take your spoils!"

  "Spoils!" he muttered wryly. "You are the woman I love."

  "And you are the man I love!" she replied gladly. "I want to be yours—completely."

  He kissed her. Then he undressed her. Her blouse was sticky with drying wine, and her hair was matted with it, but she knew better than to pause for even a minute to clean up. Now was the time to strike!

  Now Cedric looked at her body. She smiled and reached up to him. She knew that her reaction was no more important than his and that their physical interaction was only a portion of their emotional one. For the first time she truly desired him, and for the first time he believed he deserved her.

  Still, he was inexperienced, as was she. She helped him as much as she could without seeming aggressive and, when he hesitated, she held him and kissed him passionately; when he sought to come into her and found the way obscure and paused in confusion, she thrust herself at him and abated the obscurity herself. It hurt—but with the pain came an unutterable pleasure and a closeness she had never before known. "Cedric... Cedric..." she whispered, and gently bit his bare shoulder.

  Yet simultaneously she found herself in the bog, by the water oak, seeing it from three sides. From one side she viewed it with the freshness of youth and innocence, as if seeing it for the very first time. From another side she viewed it with the cynical eye of experience, understanding its nature and appreciating it for what it was. From the third side she viewed it with the significance of age. She had an endless memory of it in all its seasons, spun out into an eternal thread and wound about her distaff, the small staff on which her yarn was wound for spinning. She was aware of its entire history. Yet the three views were one, faceted, neither merged nor separated; all three views comprised the impression of the whole, like colors or contrasts. She understood that tree!

  Somehow, too, there was a fourth view, but shrouded, and she knew that it was one she never wanted to see, for it was completely horrible. Yet it, too, was part of the whole, the painful aspect of a generally positive reality.

  Then the moment of ultimate rapture passed, fading into a more general but pleasant awareness. She remained locked in Cedric's embrace as the great tide ebbed. Impulsively, she kissed him again. "Now I am possessed," she whispered. The word had a triple or quadruple layer of meaning, relating to property, sexual expression, and diabolical awareness. Her vision of the water oak seemed to have fragmented her consciousness, so that what had seemed simple now seemed marvelously complex.

  In due course Cedric, fulfilled, fell asleep. Now Niobe became aware of her discomfort. She got up, carefully cleaned herself, washed her hair, and applied some healing salve. She did not want Cedric to think he had hurt her, though it was a pain that changed her life. Then she checked the bed and spied the stain of blood on the sheet; how was she to conceal that? Certainly she did not want that going through the college laundry, betraying to the staff not only what they had been up to, but that it had been the first time. So she fetched a sponge, dampened it, and worked on the stain until it had faded to the point ofunidentifiability. Now, at last, she could relax.

  She lay down—and Cedric stirred. She took his hand, kissed it, and murmured a soothing word to him, and he drifted off again. She was relieved; she loved him, but right now she wanted to sleep.

  In the morning she returned home, leaving Cedric to his studies and his phenomenal new memories. But she did not allow much time to elapse before she visited him again. It was not that she had suddenly become a sexual creature—she had been advised by her mother that no woman could match the appetite of any man in this respect—but that she missed him and wanted to be with him as much as possible. Her tidy house no longer satisfied her. She wanted it to be animated again by Cedric's presence. She was indeed in love.

  They made love again in the guest house, and this time it was easier because they were slightly experienced. Also, as she thought wryly, she was broken in. Again she responded almost as rapidly and emphatically as he, despite her mother's cautions, for love propelled her. Again, at the climactic moment, she had a vision.

  This time, as she stood before the water oak, she saw a spider climbing an invisible strand. I can do that, she thought. She reached up and caught hold of her own
invisible strand and climbed it, for she had four hands and four feet. In fact she was a spider, the ultimate spinner and weaver. What a web she would make! But then the ecstasy abated, and she was human again, relaxing in the embrace of her beloved.

  She thought to ask him whether he, too, had visions in that moment, but she desisted, fearing that it would seem that she was bored with lovemaking. She wasn't; in fact it seemed more likely that her visions represented a transcendent overflow of pleasure. When a system was stimulated beyond its rated capacity, it could short out or blow off; could this be why the images were so far removed from the present experience?

  She had no decent answer—but she would be glad to explore the matter further. She liked making love to Cedric, and she liked the visions, even if the thematic connection between the two was tenuous. "Oh, Cedric!" she exclaimed, hugging him again. "I'm so glad we found each other at last!"

  "You're still the perfect woman," he said, and fell asleep.

  "You foolish man," she murmured fondly, and nibbled on his ear.

  Cedric completed his first year of college with outstanding grades and came home for the summer. He now knew more than Niobe did about the wetlands, and she was fascinated by the lore he had acquired. He would squat by a stagnant pool and scoop out a handful of glop and show her how the algae in it emitted little spells of nausea to discourage such interference. It was true; when she came close to the handful, she felt like retching, but when she stepped back she felt all right. Of course the smell might account for it—but it didn't help to hold her nose, so she was satisfied that it was, as he said, magic. He was able to identify the exact species of water oak near their cabin, and the variety ofhamadryad too. He knew where the timid forest deer hid and what their preferred forage was. "I owe it all to you, Niobe," he said generously. "You showed me the wetlands!"

  "I'll cry, I'll cry when the wetlands are dry," she agreed, smiling. How little had she realized what her innocent song would start!

  And of course they made love again, for the first time at home, erasing their prior failures here. Once more she launched into vision—but this time it was sinister. She saw the face of a saturnine man—and that man's mouth curled into a sneer, and he winked at her. She screamed and snapped from the vision to find Cedric frozen in midmotion, horrified that he had somehow hurt her.

  "No, no," she reassured him immediately. "It wasn't you! I had a bad dream."

  "You were asleep?" he asked incredulously.

  Then she had to tell him of the visions, for the misunderstanding would be worse than the reality. He admitted that he did not have such visions, but had heard of those who did. "Mostly women," he concluded.

  "Oh? How do you know about women?" she asked archly.

  "My text in human biology," he said. "It's one of the freshman required courses."

  So she was, after all, typical. "But the awful face— why would I see that, when I'm having such joy of you?"

  He shrugged. "Maybe we should stop those visions."

  "Oh, Cedric, I don't want to stop—"

  "I said visions, not love!" he said, laughing. He was no longer shy about sex; once he had gotten into it, he liked it. "I'll try to sing to you, next time."

  The notion appealed to her. The rapture of his magic superimposed on that of the loveplay—the ultimate experience!

  They tried it, and it worked. He did not even have to sing aloud; if he ran the song through in his mind, the orchestra played for her, and no visions came, no matter how transported she was by the experience.

  So it went through the summer. In the fall it was time for college again, and she packed him off with genuine regret. But he had a real future, once he completed his education, and she refused to deny him that. She would suffer through the separation and visit him often.

  But it was harder on her than she had anticipated. She felt chronically out of sorts, and sometimes ill. Then she got nauseous in the mornings. What was wrong with her?

  Suddenly she realized: she wasn't ill—she was with child.

  Chapter 3 - SHOOTING DEER

  She had to tell him, of course. She did so on the next visit. Cedric was amazed at what he had wrought, and pleased. "I'll be a father!" he exclaimed, as if this were a completely unique experience.

  "Well, it isn't as if you didn't try for it," she reminded him.

  "I guess that will have to stop now," he said regretfully.

  "No, not yet. Just—carefully."

  They were careful. The winter passed, and the baby expanded within her. When Niobe reached the eighth month, her mother came to stay with her and midwife the birth if it occurred early, for there was no convenient hospital. Cedric was ready to quit college and come home, but Niobe made him remain to complete his courses; he had gone too far to throw it away now. So it was that, before he turned eighteen and just before he made it home for the summer, Cedric became the father of a healthy son.

  He was pleased—but he knew there was a price. Niobe had been able to make do alone, but she would no longer be able to do that. Cedric had to retire from college and become a full-time family man. He was ready—but she knew he also regretted it. It had been clear that if he had continued his program at the college, he could have become a professional, perhaps even a professor in due course. He could still be one—but now there would be a delay, and by the time he could return, years hence, the situation could have changed. So it was a calculated risk for Cedric's career. Almost, she wished she had not conceived so quickly.

  "It doesn't matter," Cedric said. "A man's got to do what he's got to do in the time he has, and I want to be with you."

  "That's sweet," she said, and rewarded him with a kiss. Still, she felt guilty.

  "Prof told me that if he'd had a wife who looked like you, she would have had a baby just as fast," he added.

  "Still, you have such a good career awaiting you; you must return to it as soon as possible."

  "We'll see," he said.

  But when she thought of the baby, her mood swung the other way. Junior was an absolute joy! She knew from the first hour that he would be a genius like his father— and he would have proper schooling from the outset. Oh, she had such dreams for Junior!

  Cedric took care of things, pretty well running the household until she was back on her feet. Then, as time opened up, he began spending time in the swamp. He was making a chart of the local ecology—the trees, the smaller vegetation, the animals, the insects, the algae, the waterflows, and the observable interactions between them.

  Hunters roamed the forest, in and out of hunting season, poaching game. Cedric came across the remains and grew angry. "If the deer shot back, the hunters would be less bold!" he exclaimed. Then he paused in realization. "Maybe I can arrange for the deer to shoot back!"

  Niobe laughed—but he was serious. He was a wetlands major, not a magic major, but he got a tome of spells and searched through it, trying to find one that could be adapted to his purpose. If magic could bounce an arrow or a bullet back on its origin, so that the hunter in effect shot himself—

  But magic was no subject for amateurs, any more than science was. It required years of study to master the basic precepts and stem discipline; even then it had its special hazards. Cedric was smart, but more than intelligence was needed. "I just don't have the time!" he exclaimed, frustrated.

  "You're welcome to take all the time you want, dear," Niobe said. She was nursing Junior and hated to see Cedric upset. When he was annoyed, she tended to echo the feeling involuntarily, and it seemed to change the milk and make Junior colicky, and if there was one thing worse than an upset husband, it was a colicky baby.

  Cedric paused as if weighing something momentous. "Of course," he agreed, and went outside. Had she somehow offended him? Her husband seemed more nervous, irritable, and generally tense than he had been. Maybe she should try to hire a maid for the chores so that Cedric could, after all, return to college. She knew what a sacrifice he was making and she wanted to set things right. Th
eir love was so wonderful that she hated to have any strains put on it.

  But when she broached the matter, later in the day, Cedric would have none of it. "I'm through with college!" he declared. "My destiny is here."

  "But the Prof said you have such potential! I think he wants you to become a—"

  He put his big hand on hers. She felt a stirring of the music in him, but this time it was a strange, discordant, disturbing sound. "It would not be worth the cost," he said. "Prof understands."

  She experienced a kind of dread, but could not fathom its cause. The flickering image of a demonic face came to her, and one of the water oak, three of whose views were positive, the fourth an unglimpsed horror. What cost? Separation from her? Yet Cedric had endured that before and prospered. Why had he changed his mind?

  "Cedric—is something wrong?"

  "Of course not," he said quickly.

  She didn't believe him, but realized that he would not tell her the truth. That disturbed her further, and she had to stop nursing Junior. She was sure it wasn't any fault in Cedric's love for her; that was unfailing. He was a father new, a proven man, yet sometimes even now she would be working at the loom, and would look up to discover him watching her with a touching expression of adoration. No, he loved her and wanted to be with her. StillShe laid Junior in the crib. "Cedric, we could move closer to the college so you could commute—"

  He took her in his arms and kissed her. "This is our home. I love you—and the wetlands. My life is here."

  So it seemed. She did not try to argue further, and indeed their life together was good. They resumed making love as she recovered from childbearing, and Cedric was enormously gentle and, he sang to her, and in those moments it seemed that nothing else mattered.

  As Niobe grew stronger, she started taking Junior for walks outdoors, for fresh air was good for babies. He seemed to like the wetlands, especially the huge water oak. Niobe would sit at the foot of the tree and sing, and Junior would listen. The hamadryad got used to the new arrival and came to like Junior. She didn't quite trust Niobe, for adults had a long and bad history of cynicism toward wild magic, but when Niobe set the baby in his carrier by the tree and retreated a reasonable distance, the dryad would come down and play with him. Niobe was thrilled; very few mortals could approach any of the wilderness creatures, either natural or supernatural, and it was a mark of special favor when one could. Maybe Junior would grow up to be a world-famous naturalist! Certainly there was no threat from the dryad; Cedric had assured her of that, and she believed it. In the dryad's presence Junior was always alert and smiling.