Vengeance of the Dancing Gods

by Jack L. Chalker

  "I understand. Don't worry. The Kauri are nothing if not careful about such things."

  "Well, it only takes one slip and the tremendous power you'll feel over there, as you are, may blind you to your dangers and limitations. I can give you, and Poquah as well, spells to protect you against the routine iron of Earth, but it is only limited protection and iron will still burn, scar, and even kill if it penetrates your skins. So much contains iron there that you'll have to be on constant guard."

  Joe's eyebrows rose and he looked at the Imir. "You're coming, too?"

  "I am a wizard of considerable strength who has spent some time on Earth," Poquah replied calmly. "My powers are more than sufficient for concealment and will also aid, I suspect, in locating and penetrating the plot. I am just below the power threshold established by the wish. Why? Do you object?"

  Joe remembered the Imir's courage and dedication in their previous bouts with the Baron. "No, of course not. Glad to have you."

  "I assume that what goes for Joe goes for me as well," said Tiana, feeling left out.

  Ruddygore sighed. "No, my dear, I'm afraid it doesn't. You can't go."

  She stood up angrily, a very formidable sight. "I am going!"

  "You cannot. Even if we could find some way to fake the Goddess's departure for what might prove a great length of time, and even if we could convince the Council to allow the risk of your not getting back, it still won't work."

  "I was born here, yes, but I was raised and educated in Europe! I am as much of Earth as these two!"

  "Not quite, but, yes, I'll grant you that you would be a valuable addition; but, you see, it just isn't possible. The wish Dacaro used against wizards blocks power, not skill. You are over the wizard threshold, my dear. You are too powerful. The wish prevents you, not I."

  She looked at Joe, stricken, and Joe looked back with equal anguish. In more than five years they'd been an inseparable team. "Then I won't go, either," Joe said flatly.

  The anger and frustration seemed to subside in Tiana. "Yes you will, my love," she responded with a wistful sigh. "You must. Not only is this far bigger than just the two of us, but I think the Rules and your own nature command it. If you could go, and did not, it would eat at you forever. If none of them came back, you would not be able to live with yourself, wondering. I could not stand to see that happen to you. You will go."

  Joe still looked uncertain. "We'll see," he muttered under his breath.

  "There is a gray area here that must be addressed," Ruddygore told them. "The Rules apply here, and they apply to all of us, but they do not apply to Earth. That means we won't need an unwieldy seven or more for our company, but it also means that Marge will remain a Kauri, bound by Kauri rules as well as her own nature, and the same for the others. This is also true, to a degree, for Dacaro and Boquillas, particularly when interacting with ones from here. I would not be too concerned about it, though. It certainly will not be Marge who takes on Dacaro in the end."

  "Yeah, well, that's the point, isn't it?" Joe snapped. "I mean, you're gonna drop us over there cold, at which time we somehow have to find out where in a country three thousand miles wide and two hundred million strong they're hiding, then take on a super-powerful wizard with no wizard to match, all without being picked up and locked away in some looney bin by the cops. It's crazy!"

  "Actually, it's more like two hundred and fifty million people," the wizard replied casually, "but I think we can narrow down the odds a bit. I am not without resources and an organization of my own there, although I will admit it's weaker in the United States than in Europe. You will have help, anyway, and money—as much as you need. I admit, however, to not having a good plan on how to face down Dacaro. That is why I think you and Marge should take a preliminary trip down the River of Dancing Gods. I think we should have a consultation with the Oracle of Mylox, which will accomplish two purposes. First, it will tell us if this deed is possible. That much of a straight answer we can expect, anyway. Beyond this, we might or might not learn more. Oracles are always right but they aren't very dependable and are always obscure."

  Joe looked at Tiana, then at Marge. "Oh, great. Just where is this Oracle, anyway? I never heard of him."

  "Oh, he's quite famous, but, alas, a bit expensive and somewhat inconvenient to reach. He lives on a small tropical island about a hundred miles or so due south of the river's mouth, and it's difficult to get to and often difficult to return from."

  "If it's that bad, I could fly down alone," Marge offered.

  "No," Ruddygore replied, "that won't do. For one thing, it's too far out for you to fly without a rest stop. The sea's rough from the bottom of the continent to there, and the only bit of rock is quite hostile. More compelling, however, is that the Oracle's predictions are only truly reliable when requested by a mortal, not one of fairy blood. Someone must go who is not of the fairy races and who is also going on the expedition. I think that pretty well singles out Joe as things stand now."

  "There is more to it than that," Tiana noted. "You said there were two reasons, and I suspect I know the second. Joe is bait."

  Ruddygore nodded. "I'm afraid so. Whether one of those in this room last night is in league with Boquillas or whether it's someone of rank not on the Council is irrelevant. The Baron knew who would be sent against him from the moment he put this plan into operation. The fact that Macore was chosen to do the deed tells us that whoever we're dealing with on this side knows us rather well. There were spies on you, probably from the moment Macore freed Dacaro, Joe, and once they see you heading south, it will be no puzzle at all to them where you're going and why. Sooner or later they will make an attempt at you both, and then we'll either have our villain revealed or we will be able to trace the attackers. You must appear in every way to be alone, but they will not be the only ones keeping a sharp eye on you. When they strike, help will not be far."

  "Then I will at least go with them to the Oracle!" Tiana proclaimed.

  "No, my dear, you will not, even if you must be prevented by spell from doing so. I have been forced into an agreement with the Council that both of you shall not be put simultaneously at risk. Don't worry. Joe can take care of himself, and you will be reunited before the Company leaves for Earth."

  "Yeah, sure." Joe sighed, secretly relieved at this. He wouldn't like to have her there to be used as a threat against him in a fight, he knew. "Don't worry. Hell, maybe the Oracle will tell us it's a waste of time."

  Ruddygore stood up and looked at them, grim-faced. "If so, a darkness, will fall over this land which will make us yearn for death or even Armageddon, to gain some release."

  Chapter 6

  Nostalgia Trip

  Anyone bound by these Rules of magic and behavior shall remain bound to them, even if in a plane where the Rules do not apply in and of themselves. This Rule is mandatory until death. After death, it is optional.

  —Rules, III, 106(d)

  TIANA WAS WORRIED, BUT SHE HAD HER DUTIES AND SHE was stuck with them, and so she reluctantly returned to Castle Morikay, there to prepare for the opening of the vitally important Lavender Festival, after a long and tearful farewell to Joe. He, at least, knew that some of those tears were less from separation than from a desire to chuck it all and go with them, no matter what. It was clear, not only to the two of them, but to Ruddygore as well, that the demigod situation simply could not be tolerated much longer. Something had to be done to get rid of the need for that.

  Poquah best knew and understood Ruddygore's Earthly organization and he also knew Earth. He was, therefore, sent on ahead to set things up and ease the transition of the others when they arrived. The Imir believed with Ruddygore that the faster this was done the better, and so the preliminary detective work and evaluation was under his direction.

  He hoped that the rest of the Company might be determined by what the Oracle had to say, although, if not, he had a few ideas in reserve. What he did not like was too much delay. He had no idea what grandiose scheme had been ha
tched by his old enemy, but he did not underestimate him.

  So it was that Joe and Marge were pretty much alone as they walked down the long path from Castle Terindell on the bluff to the small dock just down from the junction of the river Rossignol with the great Dancing Gods. Marge needed no baggage, of course, but did wear a belt hung loosely on her hips which supported a small leather case. In it were two pairs of the sleek but gogglelike sunglasses Ruddygore had ordered made for her long ago so that she could remain awake and alert in daylight. Even with them, her daylight vision was quite poor, since her eyes were those of a nocturnal creature, but at least she could function and not become comatose.

  Joe, too, traveled light, although not quite that light. It was now spring, and they were heading south into subtropical and even tropical climes, so he felt little need for heavy furs and boots, preferring to stick to his ornate sword belt, which held his great magic sword in a snug but easily reached scabbard, and a simple brown loin cloth. With his long, straight, black hair and reddish brown skin, he looked very much like an idealized version of his Apache ancestors.

  He stopped and looked over and down at Marge. "Seems like old times again, doesn't it?"

  She smiled. "Yeah, it does that, all right. I still can't help thinking like a target, though. I heard of these oracles, and even if any of 'em can really predict anything, you never can figure 'em out until it's too late, anyway, so what good are they?"

  "Well, the old boy seems to think that this will be different. Anyway, it feels good just to have a little action again. I've been bored to death."

  The boat was a small luxury sailing vessel that could operate well both in shallow and deep waters. Ruddygore had described the captain as an old water rat, but they weren't prepared to be greeted by a creature who stood nearly six feet tall and looked for all the world like a giant brown rat with broad, flat feet and tiny humanlike hands. The giant rat wore a blue and red jacket on which epaulets had been sewn at the shoulders; in between its huge rodent's ears perched a small sailor's cap with polished bill. If the thing weren't so imposing, and if it didn't smell, close up, like twenty gallons of stagnant water, it would look almost comical, Joe thought.

  Marge whispered, "He's a Pahadur. Be polite."

  "He's not of the faerie, is he?" Joe whispered back.

  "No. Just one of the several hundred nonhuman races around."

  Joe could only feel upset at his shock and his ignorance. He'd seen a number of nonhuman races, and even fought a few, but his real knowledge of most of this world and its creatures was abysmally poor. For all the perspective Morikay and Wolf Island provided, he might as well have been in Philadelphia.

  The captain had a gritty, rasping, unpleasant voice that came from somewhere far beyond the snout, deep in the throat.

  "Welcome aboard the Piebald Hippogryph!" he said. "I'm Captain Ely." He stuck out a small, gray-pink, taloned hand.

  Joe took it without hesitation. He wasn't used to shaking hands with giant talking rats, but he'd been several years now in the social and diplomatic circuit. "Glad to meet you."

  "I'm glad the ship's not named the Bounty," Marge mumbled.

  "Is this your ship. Captain?" Joe asked, either not hearing or ignoring the comment.

  "No, it's actually owned by a bunch of little old ladies who had to invest their quilting money in a tax shelter, but for all intents and purposes it's mine. We run charters to various points up and down the river system. You don't get luxury like this on the average vessel," Bly bragged.

  And, in fact, he wasn't kidding. There was far more room below than either of them would believe—two very well-appointed staterooms with large beds with feather mattresses and a dining and lounge area off of which was a well-designed galley. The area was presided over by a very beautiful young woman whom Ely introduced as Audra. Only the fact that not only Audra's eyes were green, but her skin and hair as well, suggested that she was something other than human.

  "I can see your question, and it's a common one," she told them without it having to be spoken. "I am a wood nymph. I had just lost my tree in a fire and had switched to another when they came to lumber the area. I was in hibernation at the time and wasn't marked or registered, so they took the new tree and used it in building this boat."

  "You mean you're stuck, attached to this boat?" Marge asked, a bit taken aback by the comment.

  "Oh, yes, at least until it is totally destroyed. I don't mind. At least it gives me some chance to see the world and earn my keep, and I meet a lot of interesting people. It could have been worse. I mean, they could have used only half of the tree."

  Marge shuddered. The idea of severed limbs appearing all over the place was unnerving.

  Bly took them back topside. "She literally lives inside the ship itself, or in its timbers," he told them. "Makes it easy, considering the limited crew's quarters, and real convenient. She's happy, and we get free maid service. Only trouble is, she's a lousy cook, since she just sits up here and takes in the sun for a couple of hours and gulps down some water. She tries following recipes; but if you've never eaten food, how the hell can you ever learn how to do it right?"

  "You won't need much on my score," Marge told him. "I eat fruit and take juices now and then, maybe even some wine, but nothing else."

  "Well I eat, and a lot," Joe noted. "However, I'll take your advice and do my own cooking, if Audra will let me in the galley for it."

  "Oh, sure. She's used to it. She'll stand there and take all sorts of notes trying to figure it out. Ah! Here's our pilot!"

  The face and form of yet another pretty young woman appeared; she was holding onto the side of the ship, apparently just back from a swim. When she hauled herself aboard, though, and sat on the rail, a long, fishlike tail, cream-colored like her skin, extended down from her waist. Joe had seen mermaids before in Husaquahr, but never this close up. He had always imagined the tails as dark and scaly.

  "Tura, meet our passengers," Bly called to the mermaid.

  "Hi! Glad to know you!"

  There were introductions around, and Joe began to wonder just what sort of cruise this was going to be. Certainly he was glad that Tiana was off at Morikay. What would she say on discovering that he was to be in close quarters for several days with a Kauri, a wood nymph, and a mermaid, with his only competition a giant rat? Mermaids, he knew, were always female, but mated solely with human men—but only at one time in the year and for the duration of getting pregnant.

  This, then, was the crew of the Piebald Hippogryph.

  "Anything to report, luv, before we get under way?" Bly asked the mermaid.

  "No, it's pretty clear. Steer forty degrees to the main channel, then follow it. There was a herd of wild hippocampus grazing on the river bottom about nine leagues south, just off the main channel, but I wouldn't worry about them."

  Bly looked at his two passengers. "Very well, then. Any luggage or other gear to be stowed?"

  "We're clear," Joe told him. "We tend to travel light."

  "Very well, then. It's a pretty easy trip going downriver. The current's strong and gets stronger from here south, and I use the sails more as a brake than as power. We'll run until dusk every day, then tie up at a settlement, if it's convenient, or along the shore, if it's not. Barring bad weather or unforeseen accidents, we should hit Marahbar in about ten days."

  They mostly got out of the way as the mermaid again went over the side and Bly cast off the lines fore and aft, then went leisurely to the large wheel located in the rear. As he said, he didn't even bother to set any sail at this point, although it was clear from the look of a forward line that something or someone was pulling the ship away from the dock and pointing it in the right direction.

  As soon as they got into the main channel of the Rossignol, the line went suddenly slack, and Tura hauled herself back aboard, looking a little winded. She glanced over, saw Joe and Marge sitting on deck, and smiled.

  "In main ports they have trained hippocampus to do the tug
work, but out here it's just little old me," the mermaid said, between deep breaths.

  She didn't look that strong, but Joe reminded himself not to underestimate a mermaid's strength or power in the water again.

  Tura was well accustomed to moving along the ship, using the rails and other projections. She sat down near them and stretched out her long tail. "Fish out of water," she commented apologetically.

  "You stay on board when not working?" Marge asked her.

  "Sometimes, yes. Everybody thinks of us as related to the fish, but we're air-breathing mammals, just as humans are."

  "But don't you—dry out—after a while?" the Kauri asked.

  "Oh, sure. Don't you? But this is skin, not fish. I've got layers of protection underneath it that you don't, so I don't have to worry about water temperatures and the like, at least not much, but the skin's the same. I'm pretty awkward out of the water, but there's no harm in it any more than with Joe, say. Worst problem up here in bright sunlight is that it's so bright I don't see as well."

  Marge, who had her goggles on, chuckled. "I know what you mean. Maybe you ought to get a pair of these made. Without them, I'm totally blind and out like a light up here in the day."

  "Say! What are you, anyway? I don't think I ever saw somebody of your race before."

  "I'm a Kauri."

  The mermaid stared at Marge, then looked at Joe, and gave a knowing smirk. "Oh...."

  "Hey! It's not that way!" Joe protested. "We're old friends and partners, that's all."

  The mermaid looked startled. "Why not?"

  "Huh? What do you mean?"

  "Why not that way? You one of them muscle boys who only likes other muscle boys or something?"