That's a damned harpy! Atropos thought.
"Oops," Niobe murmured. "The magic threads won't stop that; it's immortal."
Maybe I can use self-defense, Clotho thought.
"No good. You could strike it or throw it aside, but its filth would still get on you. It can't actually hurt us, even if we do nothing, but it could make us sickeningly unclean."
The ugly creature lumbered toward them through the air. It had the face and dugs of an old woman, and the body of a vulture. The close-set, wrinkle-shrouded eyes peered out at Niobe. For a moment the harpy hovered, surprised, a perfumed stench washing down from the wingbeats.
"What are you doing here, Lachesis?" it demanded. The teeth were long and yellow. "This is none of your affair, you meddlesome ilk!"
"It is my affair, you putrid hen!" Niobe retorted. "Now give way, or I'll lasso you with a thread." It was a bluff, but she hoped the harpy wouldn't know that.
"No thread of yours will hold me, spider-face!" the harpy screeched. "Turn aside, or I'll poop on you!"
It was no empty threat! But Niobe knew she had to reach the senator before the demon from Hell did. She couldn't afford delay.
Give me the body! Atropos thought. I know how to handle that sort!
Niobe turned it over. Atropos took form. She strode from the walk, across the lawn to a nearby garden shed.
"Oh, so it's Atropos now!" the harpy screeched, following. "Whatcha think you're doing, you old black slave?"
"I'm going to clear out some trash," Atropos said. She reached the shed and took hold of a weathered broom inside it.
"Go sweep it out, like the stupid stoop-labor hag you are!" the harpy screeched, its stringy hair flinging out as it whirled to fly above Atropos' head. "Here, I'll make you feel right at home by emptying the pot on you!"
"The white folks used to set the dogs on us when we came to clean their houses," Atropos said, hefting the broom. In her competent hands the broom moved almost like a weapon. "Know what we did then?"
"You got chewed up?" the harpy asked with a raucous cackle, following it with the kind of racial epithet no one but a harpy would use.
"We let those bitches have it in the tail!" Atropos said. She swung the broom in a mighty and accurate arc. The bristles caught the harpy in the tail just as it was letting go its poop, and knocked it spinning.
The creature landed claws-up on the ground, screeching piercingly. Atropos, undaunted, strode toward it, broom aloft. The harpy scrambled to its feet and pumped its wings furiously, launching clumsily into the air. It fled, wanting no more of this.
Atropos returned the broom to the shed. "A woman does leam a thing or two in the course of a working life," she muttered with satisfaction.
She certainly did! Niobe resumed the body and proceeded the rest of the way to the house.
As she came to the door, it burst open and the demon itself charged out. It was about seven feet tall, had a hairy body, a long and tufted tail, horns, and a prominent masculine appendage. It pounced on Niobe, wrapping its long arms about her and opening its mouth so wide that the remaining features were squeezed back into oblivion. The huge pointed teeth descended toward her face.
"Oh, come off it!" Niobe snapped, disgusted. "You can't bite me!"
Indeed, the demon's teeth came down to touch her forehead, and stopped. Her flesh was invulnerable.
The demon growled and squeezed her, trying to crush in her ribcage, but the compression had no effect. She was proof against that, too.
Then the demon thought of something else. It brought up its clawed hind feet and raked along the front of her body. Her clothing ripped asunder, but her flesh was unscathed. "You can't even scratch me, you fool. I am proof from physical injury by any creature your infernal master can send."
The demon brought its foot up again, ripping her clothing the rest of the way. Now it hung on her by the sleeves, leaving her front exposed. The demon did not release her, but loosened its grip enough to enable it to glance down at her body. It snorted steam.
Then she realized what it was up to. It intended to rape her!
The thing could probably do it. She was secure from physical injury, but not from emotional injury. As experience had long ago shown her, she could participate in sexual congress; it represented no physical abuse of her body. The demon was stronger than she was; it could hold her for this act.
Now she struggled, but her arms remained captive at her sides. She tried to run, but the demon lifted her off the ground. Its member was growing; in a moment it would do what it intended. At the least, she would be utterly humiliated.
Maybe I can fight it! Clotho thought.
How? Atropos responded. It's immune to our attack, too; we can't even bite it.
At least let me try!
Niobe, as desperate as any of them, gave her the body. The demon paused, startled at this change, but did not let her go. Then, perceiving that the captive had grown more attractive, it renewed its effort. Clotho twisted desperately, managing to swing her body away a little. Then she brought up her right knee in a savage strike at the demon's groin. She scored—but the creature did not even gasp. It was, as Niobe had warned, invulnerable.
My turn! Atropos thought.
Clotho turned the body over to her. Again the demon paused, noting the change, but again it resumed its design after a moment. It changed its grip, to force the body closer, and used its nether claws to grasp the legs and wedge them apart.
"Damn!" Atropos swore. "I thought I could slide away on the thread—but I can't fling out any strand while my arms are pinned!"
The demon grinned. It had known this.
Suddenly Niobe knew what was required. We're all fools! she thought. Give me back the body!
Atropos gave it to her. Niobe assumed control just as the demon's hot flesh nudged hers.
She shifted to spider form. Suddenly she had eight limbs and was much smaller. Fate could be any size arachnid she wished. She slipped out of the surprised demon's grasp and dropped to the ground.
The demon tried to stomp her. Niobe simply stood there and let the clawed foot come down on her body. When the foot rose again, she remained unhurt. The spider was as impervious as any of the human forms.
She reverted to her natural form. The demon grabbed for her again, but this time she had the vial of holy water out. As the demon's arms clasped her, she put the vial to her own lips and sipped the fluid. "Kiss me, demon," she murmured, putting her face forward.
The demon's head jerked back as it smelled the water, but she pursued it. Her arms now clasped its body, preventing its escape exactly as it had prevented hers before. She jammed her mouth against its mouth and spat out the water.
Kiss of death! Clotho thought.
It was indeed. The demon's flesh melted where the water touched. The lips dissolved and dribbled down the chin, which was rapidly eroded by that fluid. The flesh of the cheeks and tongue puddled, leaving the teeth bare, like those of Thanatos. Then the gums faded away, and the jaw fragmented, and one by one the teeth fell out. The destruction proceeded up the face, eating away the nose and then the eyeballs. Now the thing's brain came into view, smoking at the outer surface as the effect touched it. The whole brain blackened, then went up in smoke.
Now THAT is the way to deal with a rapist! Atropos thought.
After that, the rest of the body went more quickly, dissolving into vapor from top to bottom, like a gross cigar burning. At last all that remained was the noxious cloud of smoke.
But as the smoke dissipated, something moved. The demon's right foot remained; it hadn't dissolved, and had been hidden by the swirling vapors. Her kiss of death had reached its limit.
Niobe reached for her vial again. What harm can one foot do? Clotho thought.
"Any part of a demon is bad news," Niobe said tersely. She put some holy water on her fingers and reached for the foot.
The thing scrambled across the step, using its claws to hitch itself forward. It was trying to escape. Niobe sprinkled it by s
napping her wet fingers outward, and puffs of smoke erupted where the drops struck. The foot fell off the edge of the step, into the grass. She pursued it, sprinkling more water, but the fragment disappeared.
"I hope I got it all," she muttered.
Can't be more than a toe left, Atropos thought.
"Demons aren't like mortal folk," Niobe said darkly. "Pieces of them can survive."
Can one toe hurt us? Atropos thought. How?
Niobe shrugged. "I don't know. But I hope that thing is all gone, now."
Well, let's see what's inside, Clotho thought. Like Atropos, she did not take the toe of one demon seriously, and Niobe had to admit she was probably a bit paranoid about demons. One had killed Cedric, another had killed Blanche, another had tried to eliminate Luna and Orb, and now one had tried to rape her. She had reason—but what, indeed, could one demon toe do?
Niobe pinned her torn dress together as well as she could, and strengthened it with strategically placed strands of thread. Then she walked on into the senator's house.
A young man stood in the hall. His clothing hung on him, enormously baggy. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings. He was staring at himself in the full-length hall mirror.
She was too late!
She sighed. "Senator?"
He answered without looking at her. "Yes, of course I'll have to resign my office. There would be talk, gossip, perhaps an investigation. I couldn't afford that! I might even have difficulty proving my identity. After all, I've just lost forty years!"
"You're—not staying on?" This surprised her.
"Of course not. It just isn't feasible. I'll have to make a new life. But it's worth it! Forty more years, starting with everything I already know!"
"But don't you owe Satan?"
"He asked no price. It's a gift, no strings."
"But the burden of evil on your soul—"
"No evil attaches to the acceptance of a gift freely proffered, when I provide no political favor in return. And I won't; I'm dropping out of politics."
This amazed her. If the senators weren't staying in office, how could they do Satan's bidding, twenty years hence? It didn't make sense!
At least she had destroyed the demon. There would be no more bribes of restored youth. She extended a thread and slid up it to Purgatory.
They discussed it at the Abode as they rechecked the threads. As they fathomed the changing pattern, the situation came clear. The senators had been bribed indirectly—by being freely given what they most desired. In order to enjoy it, they had to vacate their offices. That meant there would be appointees to complete the terms— and Satan surely controlled those appointments. The new senators would all be young and competent and would give no sign of their true loyalty—until that day, some twenty or so years hence, when Satan required it, to negate Luna's position and give the final victory to Satan. A long-term plan, a real sleeper—but it seemed it was already in place. In a vote as close as that one was destined to be, four changed votes would be more than enough. Five, counting the senator who had just been eliminated here.
The new threads were not yet in place, however, for the appointees had not yet been appointed; that process would take a few days. But, search the Tapestry as she might, Niobe could find no way to nullify it. Satan had made his play, and could readily defend it against any effort she might take. The five old senators had already been bribed to vacate and could not be unbribed; youth was already theirs.
"There has to be a way!" Niobe exclaimed. "We can't just give up the world to Satan, even if it is twenty years away."
She checked quickly with the other Incarnations, but none of them had an answer. At last she went to the person most concerned: her granddaughter Luna.
Luna took it in stride. She was a truly beautiful woman now, despite the distortion of her hair color. "My father told me that something like this might come up," she said. "He left a message for that occasion."
"My son anticipated this?" Niobe demanded, surprised.
"He was a most accomplished Magician," Luna reminded her. "Perhaps the best of his generation—and he spent the last thirty years of his life researching this very problem. He used to apologize to me for his neglect—but he really didn't neglect me. We were very close."
As Niobe and her son had not been. But that was ancient history. "What is the message?"
Luna fetched a small blue topaz, a pretty but not truly precious stone. She set in on a small shelf before a white screen and turned on a special light. The stone fluoresced, sending a pattern of blue shadows across the screen.
"It's a magic stress on the molecules of the topaz," Luna explained. "I just need to get it in focus and find the right angle; most of the facets are nonsense, but the right one will display the message. The Magician set it up that way so that no one would accidentally read the message before it was time. Premature divulgence would alert Satan, you see." She turned the stone, and the pattern on the screen changed.
She turned it again, and suddenly several lines of fuzzy print appeared on the screen. "Ah—there it is! Now for the focus." She moved the light, and gradually the print clarified; in a moment it would become legible. Then something rolled across the shelf and collided with the topaz. The stone slid out of position, and the image was lost.
"The demon's toe!" Niobe exclaimed. She brought out the vial and dumped the remaining holy water on it. The thing vanished in a puff of smoke.
Luna recovered the stone. "Good thing the creature didn't hurt it," she said. She set it in place, and refocused the beam of light.
Only blank blue showed on the screen. Surprised, Luna turned it to a new facet, but no pattern showed. "It's been erased!" she exclaimed in dismay. "The magic is gone!"
"The demon did it!" Niobe cried. "Its mere evil touch canceled the good magic!"
And we wondered what one toe could do! Atropos thought, chagrined.
Niobe exchanged a stricken glance with her granddaughter. Now they had lost the vital message!
"Is there any backup stone?" Niobe asked after a moment.
"No. None for this occasion. The Magician didn't want it to be obvious—"
"That's what I thought," Niobe said heavily. "Satan must have known or suspected about the stone and given his demon a secondary instruction to erase it when it had the chance. Now it has done so."
"Now it has done so," Luna agreed.
"So now only the Magician knows the message."
"And he is dead."
Niobe embraced the young woman, and they both cried the tears of hopelessness.
Then Niobe straightened, lifting her chin. "But I am an Incarnation! I can go to my son in Purgatory and ask him directly!"
"Yes!' Luna cried, her gray eyes lighting. "My father did not know you would become Fate again! He focused on me."
They embraced and cried again, this time with renewed hope. Then Niobe rode a thread back to Purgatory to seek her son.
But when she checked the computer for the specific location of his soul, she received another shock.
MAGICIAN KAFTAN'S SOUL IS NO LONGER IN PURGATORY, the screen said.
"You mean his penance is finished? He has gone on to Heaven already?"
NO. AN ERROR IN HIS CLASSIFICATION WAS DISCOVERED. HIS DAUGHTER HAD BORROWED SOME OF HIS BURDEN OF EVIL. SHE IS DESTINED FOR HEAVEN, BUT HIS TRUE BALANCE WAS NEGATIVE.
Why would Luna have done a thing like that? Niobe wondered. But she had a more immediate problem. "Negative? Then—"
YOUR SON IS NOW IN HELL.
Niobe stared at the screen in horror. She was sure th was the real information, as she had taken steps to se that none of Satan's illusions interfered this time.
The only person who knew how to nullify Satan's victory—was in Satan's power.
Chapter 15 - MAZE SQUARED
Back at the Abode, they hashed it over. "We know there is a solution," Niobe said. "We just don't know what it is."
"And chances are, we won't find it on our own," Atropos sa
id. "Maybe, if we were all experienced, we'd know it, but by the time we get experienced enough to know, it'll be too late."
"We're still in Satan's trap," Clotho agreed.
"Not entirely," Niobe said. "If all three of us were new, that might be true; but I did have thirty-eight prior years of experience. I know Satan's power is not complete. There has to be something he's hiding from us."
"The solution!" Clotho exclaimed wryly.
"Too bad we can't go to Hell and ask the Magician what his message was," Atropos said.
Niobe pounced on that. "Maybe we can! Incarnations have special powers!"
They checked with Thanatos, who confirmed it. "I have been there," he said. "But only in spirit. The physical body has to be left behind. All the things there are spirits, but they seem solid, as they do in Purgatory. But Satan wouldn't let you visit anyone there."
"But then how did you go there?"
"I was invited on a tour."
Oh. She knew about that sort of thing. Still—
"Can he stop a mother from visiting her son?" she asked.
All three of them paused at that. Who would know? Clotho thought.
"Gaea," Niobe said. "The Green Mother understands everything about human nature and then some."
They went to Gaea. "Satan cannot stop you, in this instance," she said. "But he will not help you. This represents a conflict between Incarnations, and your chance of success would be half."
"But I can do it?" Niobe asked.
"You can cut off your foot, too, but you might not want to." Gaea smiled coldly.
"If I do this—if I go to Hell—I stand to win the salvation of man—or at least enable my granddaughter to. What do I stand to lose?"
"Your soul," Gaea said grimly.
"But I'm an Incarnation! Satan can't touch my soul!"
Gaea shook her head. "You must put your soul on the line to gain entry to Hell. If you win your objective, you keep your soul. But if you fail, your soul is forfeit. Hell is not child's play, Lachesis!"
Niobe sighed. "It certainly isn't!"
Well, that lets that out, Atropos thought. A good soul locked in Hell—
"How do I set it up?" Niobe asked.
Incarnations of Immortality Page 99
