Vengeance of the Dancing Gods

by Jack L. Chalker

  Of course, they and a few others knew of the one other time, when these same men and women faced down the Dark Baron in his castle and stripped him of his membership and his powers, but this sort of gathering was unprecedented.

  There was Ruddygore, of course, now Chairman of the Council and host to the gathering, still taking some delight in showing off his priceless collection of pink flamingos and plaster-of-paris statues gleaned from Earth; and the lovely and two-faced queen of the witches, Esmerada, who'd only survived the Baron by switching sides. Here, too, was Fajera, the huge black-robed figure from the continent of Murri far to the south of Husaquahr, and the scholarly Docondian, the lean and dangerous Sargash, the ancient gray-robed Mathala, and all the others—the thirteen most powerful men and women of their world, and, perhaps, of any world.

  Joe and Tiana, too, were there, along with many others both human and of the faerie. All had great power in the world of one sort or another.

  Of all those invited. Marge was the last to arrive, circling the great castle and remembering all that had happened to her since arriving here. She took a turn over the great River of Dancing Gods which here joined with the Rossignol and widened into the greatest moving body of water any had ever known, yet still a thousand miles from its mouth. It was nostalgia and the beauty of the scene that made her hesitate; she no longer could even understand shyness or other social inhibitions.

  Finally she dipped down, flying over the moat and outer castle and then into one of the brightly lighted windows fronting on the reception.

  "Ah! A Kauri!" someone commented. "The old boy spares nothing."

  Joe was polishing off a glass of good dark ale when he heard the comment, and he turned and saw her. It was impossible for him to know if this was just any Kauri or Marge—they all looked absolutely identical—but she spotted him, smiled, and winked, and he felt pretty certain. Tiana had always been uncomfortable with Marge around, but she knew better than to be anything but calm and gracious now.

  Joe walked over to her, towering over the tiny fairy form. "Hello, Marge," he said a bit uncertainly. "It's been a long time."

  For the first time Marge realized that it must have been a long time. Although Joe was still strong and in the best of shape, she noticed now a few gray hairs among the black and a certain etching of lines in the face. It shocked her a bit, since she was coming from a place where time meant nothing and the only close friends she had never aged.

  "Hi, Joe. I guess it has been long. You lose track of time after a while. You're still looking good, though."

  "I'm getting bored and lazy," he told her. "You got the best of the deal, believe me." He paused a moment. "I'm sort of surprised to see you here, to tell the truth. The old man asked for you specifically?"

  She grinned. "He couldn't help it. The Rules guaranteed three adventures, and we've only had two. But if this involves Earth, it's something the two of us are best able to handle anyway."

  "Maybe," he responded hesitantly. He still had trouble reconciling her fairy nature with anything practical. The Kauri were enormously powerful but only in defense. None could so much as stick out a foot to trip someone or slap a face or stick a pin in somebody's rear. Not that they had to, so great were their defensive powers, but those powers defended only them, not anyone they might be with.

  "Do you know the details of this?" she asked him.

  "Not much. Ruddygore's supposed to brief everyone at a meeting here tonight. All I know is that Dacaro's free because of some demon and he and a fortune in gold have gone to Boquillas on Earth. The Baron has as much knowledge of magic as Ruddygore, and Dacaro has the power and strength to use it. Imagine that team set loose on Earth with no scruples. Hell's help, and a population that doesn't even really believe in magic."

  She nodded, but said nothing, just looking around at the assembled dignitaries. "Looks like a rogue's gallery, if I ever saw one, right here. Two-thirds of the people here are more in Hell's grasp than Boquillas."

  And she wasn't wrong in that. The fact was, the ruling powers were a mixed bag of personalities and many, if not most, were magicians of the blackest sort—the kind of folk who'd cheerfully torture small children and kill and maim whole populations of innocents without losing a moment's sleep. It was thought that no one, not even Ruddygore, could reach such a height of power and position without a driving egocentrism that surpassed all normal human understanding.

  In fact, the only thing any of the Council really feared was that Heaven and Hell would come together for the final conflict, the Armageddon that would settle forever the fate of all the universes. Until then, unless they were careless, as Tiana's father had been, or upset the balance of power among the wizards, as Boquillas had tried to do, they were incredibly powerful and nearly as immortal as, and far less vulnerable than, the fairy folk. It was a Heavenly attack they feared, which would end their power and perhaps bring them the true death, and so the more evil they were, the more they feared the final conflict. They liked things just the way they were and wanted the due bill as far down the road as possible.

  Those who were not wizards generally stuck to themselves, feeling somewhat uncomfortable around such true power, and bided their time until Ruddygore was ready for them.

  He entered with a flourish, in full flowing robes of sparkling gold, and was instantly the center of attention, greeting everyone with friendly informality and the usual banalities and acting for all the world as if this were a happy and well-planned occasion. It was only when he got to Marge that the act seemed to slip a bit.

  "I'm quite happy to see you. Marge. I hope this won't interfere with your new life too much."

  "Don't worry," she responded lightly. "Every once in a while it's good to have an adventure."

  He winked and was off again on the rounds of the room. Finally winding up at the pastry tray, he took seven or eight and a half-bottle of vintage champagne and settled down in his big, plush, oak chair, which he'd cleverly managed to place on a slight riser near one end of the room, so that it not only gave him a total view of the occupants but also somewhat resembled a throne. Everyone quieted down rather quickly as it was noticed that he was now simply sitting there and examining them thoroughly. In a minute or so, there was silence.

  "Most of you know the reason we're here already," the big sorcerer said at last, "although perhaps not all the details. We are faced with a minor crisis and a major decision and we'd better get to it. This is an informal party, not a formal Council meeting, and I hope to gain a consensus rather than force through any record votes."

  That was clever, Tiana thought. It meant that they might well vote to go against Hell, while being able to deny that they were on Ruddygore's side later on if things went wrong.

  "You all are the ranking wizards of this world of ours, such as it is," Ruddygore continued, "and the leaders of some of the most powerful of fairy races who still have some membership on Earth. Also here are some with long records of service against the Baron and whose help we might need, depending on what is decided."

  He paused a moment and took a drink of the champagne, then went on.

  "Now, as you all know, Esmilio Boquillas was sentenced to a total loss of power by the Council, and that sentence was carried out in accordance with the Rules. When, afterward, he continued to present a threat to us, the Rules called for a duel to the death with him; but, as we had stripped him of his powers, this would have been murder. As you also know, the Rules specifically forbid that sort of thing when a ranking wizard is rendered powerless by an action of the Council. This left me no choice but to exile him to Earth, feeling that there, where technology rules and there are no really major ranking magicians, he'd no longer be any threat to us. As it turned out, this was a mistake, but it was a mistake made because of mandated Rules. In other words, we are responsible, as Rule makers, and so we have both the authority and the ethical imperative to act in this matter. What we must decide first is whether or not we have the duty to do so and the will.
"

  "Perhaps you'd better first give us your idea of what he's up to," the witch queen Esmerada suggested.

  "Well, I have no clear ideas on that. We now know that he retains some sort of organization here, on this side, and that he can somehow reach them, perhaps through Hell and perhaps through magical means. This matter of the Lamp was carefully planned down to the smallest detail, and it had to have been planned from this side, if only because a number of traps in my vault chambers have been changed since anyone was in there who survived. Someone recruited top thieves and somehow forced them or convinced them to try, and each one had some sort of spell or charm that fed data back to a master wizard here. They all failed, but the information got out, and each one got farther than the last. The fact that the Baron still has powerful allies even in Husaquahr, along with a means of communication, means that he is a direct threat. The fact that his ally must be a wizard of the top rank makes it our concern directly."

  They didn't like that, none of them. The implication was clear that one of the very wizards in the room was in fact in league with the Dark Baron.

  "Still, what concern is that of the Council?" the dark wizard Fajera asked. "Boquillas is powerless and cannot cross the Sea of Dreams any more than we can, wish or no wish. What damage he will do is on Earth, which is outside our province."

  "Perhaps not," the huge wizard responded. "First of all, Boquillas now has a wizard close to top rank, if not equal to us, at his beck and call, and the Baron retains his tremendous knowledge of magic and spells. This is a two-pronged attack, but it is not aimed necessarily at Armageddon on Earth, although that might well be its result. Earth is well nigh defenseless against our kind of power as we are against that of Earth. Were it just Earth, I wouldn't have called this meeting, but it's not. The workings of Hell set up great storms across the Sea of Dreams, and those storms are lashing out at the breakwaters of our own world. Hell is doing so well, in fact, that Earth is in an incredible mess. It will take very little to push down our barriers so that the evil washes once more into our lands and lives, but even that is not a real concern.

  "The real concern," he added, with menace in his voice, "is that this is being waged on both fronts with Hell's cooperation. Armageddon is but a single decision away on Earth. So far they have resisted all pressures and provocations, but it might not take much to tip the balance."

  "But the Baron would be as unlikely as any of us to cause it!" the fat Careska protested. "He has as much to lose as we, particularly now that he has access to some power to protect himself!"

  "Perhaps, but you forget that our Baron is an idealist and easily swayed," Ruddygore responded. "I assure you that the injustices of Earth make us look like a chorus of angels in the earliest Garden. He and his allies here might well be fooled into thinking the objective is more limited. He is also, of course, a failure, an agent of Hell who totally failed at his objectives and caused great embarrassment and trouble to the powers that be down there. This is a way to rehabilitate himself, get back in their good graces. Certainly Hell is not going to press for the final battle unless it thinks it can win, and the signs are now quite favorable for it. It doesn't matter—the danger is there and it is real, and we, by our actions and our Rules, set it up. The only thing that remains is what we do about it. We can wash our hands of it and do nothing, in which case our nice little system is doomed to crack and fall, and armies will again march and destroy—and we might turn around and find Armageddon at any moment. Or we can act now, preemptively. I say we can't take the chance nor shirk our responsibilities. I say act and now! What say you?"

  There was dead silence for a moment, although each of the wizards seemed to sink deeply into thought and occasionally make side glances at the others.

  "I take your silence for consent. The next question is what to do about it."

  A regal-looking but ancient dwarf none had even noticed spoke up in a deep, rumbling voice. "Go over there and kill the bastard. He is mortal now."

  Ruddygore nodded. "Thank you, King Ewedol, for saying the unspeakable. I concur. Boquillas alone is a defenseless human being. He must be killed, and without mercy. Without him, Dacaro will be formidable but manageable as he will not have that vast store of knowledge and experience the Baron brings. With Boquillas dead, I will once again be freed to cross the Sea of Dreams and deal with that slimy little bastard personally."

  "So whom are you going to send over there to do the deed?" the red-robed Sargash asked him. "It is one thing to say that you will kill him, but he is certain to be better protected than your vault! Those from here will remain bound by the Rules, while his Earthly allies and demonic friends will not, and none may be wizards of the top rank."

  "Quite true," the Council leader agreed. "I am aware of the problems. I am also aware that any we send will be known as soon as they arrive, if not before. For that reason, the Company I shall form for this task will be done entirely by me. Some of its members will be obvious to any here, but some will not."

  "Why not just take your damned Lamp and wish him dead?" the dwarf king growled.

  "A good question. The Lamp is old, and of limited effectiveness, although it is still quite powerful. Unfortunately, its reach will not extend across the Sea of Dreams in either direction. To be used against someone or something on Earth, it must be on Earth, and that presents even greater problems, as it really wasn't designed for there. On Earth it is erratic, unpredictable, and very limited. To be useful at all there, the Lamp would have to be no more than a few feet from the object of the wish. Did you not all wonder why Dacaro didn't just take the Lamp? It's because the thing can no longer travel by its own power across the Sea of Dreams, and to carry it over the Sea would have put him at risk to my own powers and agents." He looked around. "Are we agreed, then?" Again there was dead silence, which pleased the big sorcerer.

  "All right, then. In the meantime, I intend to find and stop the wizard on our side and put an end to him—or her. This person is no less dangerous to us and the future than was Boquillas, and will remain no less dangerous, even if we deal with the Baron. I do not intend any more loose ends. Had Hell not interfered, I would have crushed the Baron on the castle walls. Hell will not save this person this time!"

  By the next evening, all had left to return to their own domains, leaving only Joe, Tiana, and Marge as outsiders in Castle Terindell. Ruddygore had spent the day seeing the others off and consulting with the rulers of the fairy races who had also been present, the latter because he feared their use as hostages or pawns by the Baron. He seemed well satisfied.

  Now, in far less formal company, they sat around the same great room with its walls filled, floor to ceiling, with the red-bound volumes of the Books of Rules, waiting for the signal to go. Poquah joined them, as silent and impassive as usual. The Imir was a wizard probably equal in strength and power to Dacaro, but he was of the faerie. In an otherwise equal contest between him and a human wizard, however, he would lose. That was the way of magic.

  Ruddygore entered, looking tired and drawn, but he seemed far more relaxed with just Joe, Tiana, Marge, and Poquah about. "It's been a difficult time," he told them wearily. "Still, it's nothing compared to the tasks laid out to accomplish. This will be far trickier than outwitting an army or even fighting a demon, which you might have to do."

  "When do we leave?" Tiana asked him.

  "We do not," the wizard replied. "The Company must be carefully balanced, using a number of complex factors. Certainly it is necessary that Joe and Marge go, as they are originally from Earth. They know how to cope there, and will not be taken aback by the cultures and technology there. Also, at last report the Baron was in the United States, which makes it even more imperative. Unfortunately, the Baron knows this as well as I do, and Joe, you will never be an invisible sort. Remember, too, that the Baron knows of your were nature. He will know how to kill you and he'll not make any mistakes on that score again."

  Joe nodded. "I'm ready for that. He still has to f
ear every living thing during the three nights of the full moon while I'm there, and if he has to steal that much gold for a bankroll, he can't arm everybody working for him with silver bullets."

  "I agree. But that suspicion factor will make it triply difficult to get to him during those periods. Still, it's a massive psychological factor. He'll never hide so well that he won't quake in terror at every fly on the wall or spider in the woodwork."

  "Yeah, but what about Marge? I mean, she's pretty much of a standout in the good old U. S. of A. Very few girls there have wings, for example."

  Ruddygore grinned and looked knowingly at Marge. "I gather you have never actually sampled the joys of Kauri."

  Joe flushed and Tiana gave a real hard look to both him and to the wizard. "Of course not!" the big man growled.

  "Then you don't know that the Kauri work their magic by appearing to their—client—not as themselves, but as the idealized woman of his dreams. They do not change, but to everyone else they appear to be someone else, and they can do this at will. Right, Marge?"

  "That's about it. That's what makes this sound like fun."

  "Well, it isn't!" Ruddygore snapped back. "This is deadly and serious. The odds are very much against any of you surviving, let alone accomplishing this mission."

  She shrugged. "One thing at a time."

  Ruddygore sighed, accepting her faerie outlook because it was useless to change it. "There are, of course, a few problems with you. Marge. For one thing, none of the fairy folk photograph at all. Any of the Baron's agents who takes a photograph of you, or looks at a video image, will not see you and will immediately know that you're one of their quarry. For another, your guise is transparent to any wizard or anyone else with very strong second sight. Fortunately, few have the sight on Earth and many of them only have it when they're drunk or on some drug or other. But Dacaro will certainly not be fooled for an instant, and we can assume Boquillas has made provision by this time not to be fooled, either. And don't ever forget that both know you, Boquillas in particular, and know the powers and limits of Kauri."