It seemed to take forever to get anywhere in the forest, and the sun was passing out of sight and influence by the time she was sure of any real progress, yet she felt neither hunger nor thirst, nor did she feel the least bit tired. The tremendous magical radiation went through her, tickling and even slightly burning not only her skin but inside as well, yet she knew it could not harm her. How she knew this, she wasn't sure, but it was a certainty that she was feeding off the radiation, drawing strength and whatever else she needed from it.
Darkness fell, in a land where the trees were so thick they would block the sun in daylight, yet she had no problem with that darkness. In fact, fed by the radiation she could now see as a bright, bluish glow that illuminated everything and bathed it in its eerie light, she saw every object distinctly and without shadow. In many ways it was a clearer vision than normal sight, although a more colorless one.
She knew that, somehow, she'd been delayed until darkness fell, that the magic was strongest then, and that the Kauri, as was the case with a majority of the fairy races, were more in their element.
She heard all sorts of stirrings in the trees; once or twice, she thought she caught girlish laughter from above and sensed the sudden shift of mysterious bodies, but they kept too far away for her to tell who or what was making the sounds. She was beginning to regret leaving her bronze dagger and bow back at the river, though.
And then, with a suddenness that startled her, she broke through the trees and saw the locus of Kauri power.
The clearing was enormous, composed entirely of some gray lava base that seemed permanently rippled, as if built of a frozen river rather than a hard-rock base. It rose slightly for perhaps a half mile, forming a cone-shaped structure, and at its center was a perfectly circular opening through which bubbling, roaring sounds and heavy, sulfurous smoke billowed upward. The crater was not only the source of the radiation but also a source of tremendous heat, and she knew that, somehow, this was a perfect miniature volcano.
Again she heard the girlish laughter, this time behind her, and she whirled and faced five of the Kauri.
The thing that struck her first was that they were absolutely identical; some fantastic, fairy quintuplets. Their basic form was human; all were female and might be called by many voluptuous. Their rounded, cute, sexy faces were marked with large, sensuous lips and huge, playful brown eyes. Yet the faces had a quality that could only be described as elfin, and through short-cropped hair that was a steely blue-black color, slightly more blue than black, protruded two cute, pointed elfin ears.
They were under five feet tall, but not by more than an inch or so. Their skins were a deep orange in color. Looking closer, though, she could see some familiar yet quite nonhuman differences. Their fingers were abnormally long and ended in clawlike nails; their toes, too, were a bit longer and more regular than human toes and ended in similar sharp, pointed, animal like nails, pointing slightly downward. Between digits on both hands and feet was the webbing that had first appeared on Marge back in the mountain town of Kidim. But their most distinctive feature was their wings, sinister and batlike, yet somehow less threatening in deep crimson than in demonic black, although, she saw, the crimson was only on one side;
the back of the wings was a deep purple color. The wings were not merely attached to their backs but seemed to be woven into and between their arms and their bodies, so that, when an arm moved out or forward, the membranes fluttered and acted something like a natural cape. The Kauri just stood there, watching her, not so much with hostility, but with a sort of playful puzzlement on their interminably cute faces, and she sensed she was supposed to make the first move.
Are you the Kauri? she asked.
We better be, dearie, to be here, one of them responded in a voice that was soft and somewhat childlike. So what's it to you?
I was told to come here, she explained lamely, trying to decide how best to put all this. First meetings were always a problem for her. The sorcerer Ruddygore of Terindell said I was a Kauri changeling. I am supposed to complete the change here, rather than let it go in little bits and pieces.
A changeling! another exclaimed, sounding exactly like the first. Well, I'll be damned! Been a long time since we had one of them for a Kauri!
Suddenly there was a tremendous babble of voices—or, as it seemed, the same voice repeated hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times, all at once, and saying different things. She whirled around and saw that the crater was filled with Kauri, all looking and sounding the same and all talking at one another. There was nothing to do but let them run down; nobody could ever get them quiet any other way.
One of the original five broke away from a conversation and came over to her. Well, I sure hope you are a Kauri changeling, she almost shouted over the din.
Marge frowned. Why's that?
The Kauri took her hand and led her back toward the wood for a bit. The grip was feather-light, and the fairy creature moved as if she had almost no weight at all. She still had the moves, though—they all did. If there were fairy hookers, this was their convention.
The combination of forest and the slowly diminishing din, as Kauri ran out of things to say, helped a bit.
Whew! It's always like that around here, the fairy woman told her. I'm Aislee, by the way.
I'm Marge, she responded, glad to find some kind of friend. This is all pretty new to me, so thanks.
Oh, no problem. You got to learn how to cope around here, anyway. I was born around here and it still drives me nuts sometimes.
I'm afraid I don't know enough even to comment on that. In fact, you five were the first Kauri I'd ever seen.
Yeah? Well, I guess that's natural. Most of us stay around here or in the Firehills region and east. It's kinda the pledge, y'know; keeps us pretty bored most of the time.
The pledge?
Aislee nodded. Yeah. You know—we won't do to others if they don't do to us, that kind of thing. They're scared of us and we-'re scared of them, so we take it easy.
You mean nobody ever goes far from Mohr Jerahl?
Oh, some go a long way. We're always in demand, y'know. Conventions, banquets, troop entertainment, that sort of thing. But it's strictly temporary and real limited, y'know.
No, Marge didn't know, but in fits and starts she began to get a picture of just who and what the Kauri were.
The Kauri flew, of course, like many other fairy folk, and were very light and hollow-boned. Still, they were tough— their skin was covered with a substance that had the feeling and texture of felt, while their wings were soft and satiny. This covering protected them from almost everything—it was waterproof, even fireproof, and it somehow acted like a major shock absorber. The Kauri were also extremely fluid in internal construction, so they could bear almost crushing weights without problem—yet they themselves were so light that they had trouble staying grounded in a strong breeze.
While hard to damage or kill—except with iron, of course— they were by nature quite passive and found it impossible to cause permanent injury, let alone to kill anyone or anything.
Although without any magic powers or spells themselves, they were controlled empaths in both directions. The emotions of any human were an open book to them, and they could instantly tell fear, love, sincerity, or falsehood. This had its drawbacks—sorrow would flood into them and they would find themselves crying uncontrollably; hilarity or joy around them would make them so manic they'd be higher than kites. They could, however, project desired feelings to others—humans, certainly, but also many of the fairy folk, particularly the most dangerous It could be conscious, especially in a one on-one situation, but it could also be instinctive. If a threat were perceived—and it usually could be from the empathic input—then they became impossible to harm or kill. The more intense the negative emotion, the more the counter was radiated.
As Marge and Aislee talked, a couple of other Kauri found them and joined in, like excited schoolgirls.
It was obvious that the Kauri
had no self-control over their emotions whatsoever. Emotional seven-year-olds. Marge decided, with the brains and physiques of very adult women.
Naturally, they were in great demand as courtesans, exotic dancers, and everything else that adult physique implied. They could and did mate with practically any male of any species, human, fairy, or animal, and the occasional issue of such matings was an unpredictable hybrid in half the cases, or, of course, a Kauri in the other half. All Kauri were absolutely identical, it seemed, because all descended from an initial mother Kauri back at the start of the world. The laws of genetics often went wild in the magical Kauri world. The Kauri, at least, believed that many of the hybrid races of their world were their children—the centaur, the satyr, the medusae, and just about all other hybrid forms. Changelings, too—those born of one race who turned into another, such as Marge—were their doing, although it was extremely rare that a changeling would become a Kauri.
Marge sat down and relaxed with them, not sure if it was the fairy empathic powers that made her feel at ease or that it seemed she was back with a group of barely post-pubescent girlfriends in junior high school, but not really caring, either. They giggled, they played, and they seemed incapable of staying on a single train of thought for any length of time; but as the hours passed, she did get most of the information she wanted.
In many ways, each of the fairy races embodied some basic, elemental force of nature, and it seemed that these elf-nymphs represented a curious blend of childlike enthusiasm and raw sexuality.
They had no government, no ruling class or council. They could never have gotten organized enough for that, nor could any of them for long follow another's lead. Their lives, in the main, seemed the classic fairy ideal—they awoke, they played, they sang, they danced, they spent all the time having childish fun. Occasionally an emissary from some far-off place would appear at a clearly defined gate to Mohr Jerahl and make them a proposition. In exchange for their limited services at some great occasion or function, they would get—well, nice things. Their wing structure precluded clothing, but they loved jewels and jewelry—the finer crafted and the prettier the better. New songs, dances, games, toys, and puzzles for the whole tribe were also highly prized. There was no order or system— whoever happened to be around and felt like going for whatever offering was tendered just went.
Although they had no active powers of their own—save projecting emotion, and that was best done one-on-one—their passivity was no problem in a violent and magical world. Without their knowing how, any spell or physical overpowering was somehow countered. They absorbed the strength, whether physical, mental, or magical, from the one trying it on them and retained its power for some time—from a few hours to a day or more. They had no idea of the nature of any of their attributes; they were too elemental to have a science. They had not reached their current point through evolution—they had always been as they were now and would always be so—and, therefore, had no interest in the matter. Marge began to realize what Huspeth had meant by saying she must put reason and logic aside and do things instinctively, unthinkingly.
A top-grade sorcerer, of course, could negate their powers, since the very nature of long studies in sorcery was the scientific investigation of magic and its application. Ruddygore knew how the Kauri's incredible defenses worked and so he could methodically prepare a counter to them—but few others could, and only the best would block all the magical loopholes.
Still, the Kauri were as much feared as prized. If they wanted, they could overload a man's emotional centers so much that they could turn him into a virtual love slave, sapping all self-control and free will. At the same time, that strength or power taken from someone was in a way vampiric; the one from whom it was taken lost it, perhaps for good.
There was danger outside, too, even for such as these. Their power was strong only against or with males; with women they had, at best, a localized and temporary effect. The emotional projection still worked, but little else, and that meant that women, particularly those skilled in magic, could harm them.
Marge began to see at least part of Ruddygore's thinking, particularly when she considered only the sorcerer's interests. And why consider more, for that matter? After all, Joe and she had both been very close to death back home and, no matter how much they might resent the sorcerer's machinations concerning them, it was, at least so far, much better than the alternative.
As a team, they had what Ruddygore would be interested in most. As a passive shield, she could protect against much of the magic of this world they were likely to encounter; Joe could certainly handle the rest of the problems. What concerned her was just how much of what was truly her would survive in that partnership.
She was still full of questions, though. If you all look identical, then how do you tell each other apart? she wanted know.
They laughed at the question. It's easy. You just know, that's all, one answered.
You just know, that's all...
The basic schism between human and fairy.
But come, Aislee—at least Marge thought it was Aislee—said to her. We can solve this a lot easier by making you totally one of us. They all got up, and the Kauri added, Uh, you are sure you're Kauri, aren't you?
Marge frowned. As far as I know. At least, that's what the sorcerer told me, and he should know. You should, too, if you can read me as you say.
Oh, yeah, we can tell you believe it, but not whether it's so. There's only one way to find out; and if your wizard slipped up, it will be real trouble.
How do we—do it?
The last mortal part of you has to be taken off, of course. Come on—this should be interesting.
Marge didn't like the tone or the implication here, realizing that to these creatures she was a game, a diversion, a bit of fun and no more.
The crowd of Kauri was still out there, but now they sensed that the big moment had come and lapsed into near-total silence. They were the spectators in the coliseum now, waiting to see the show.
Aislee and the others led her up the gentle cone to the very rim of the crater. The heat and smoke coming from the mass bubbling not far below were secondary to the tremendous, blinding magical radiation at this point.
Well, one of the Kauri prompted, go ahead. Jump in.
She felt doubt and panic flood into her. “You mean—jump in there?”
“That's the only way to do it.”
She swallowed hard, and her mind swirled with tremendous doubts. What if they were testing her? What if they were trying to get rid of her? What if this were some grisly practical joke of bored fairies?
Behind her, she could hear the crowd shouting, Jump! Jump! Go on! Jump! It sounded like some ghoulish cheerleader squad for a virgin sacrificial ceremony and—uh-oh. She'd forgotten that she was biologically virgin now. Virgin plus volcano equals sacrifice...
Jump in, jump in! Rah! Rah! Rah!
She just stood there, petrified with fright, knowing she could not move a step in any direction, not even to run.
Oh, the hell with it. This is getting boring, one of the Kauri next to her muttered. The next thing Marge knew, she felt a violent shove and she was falling, falling right into the boiling, bubbling magma...
There was a shock as she hit the red, bubbling mass that might have a temperature of perhaps two thousand degrees, and an all-encompassing but very brief pain, much like that which an electric shock would give.
And then she was floating, swimming, flying, suspended in the mass but no longer sensitive to it. There was no up, no down, no east, west, north, or south. There was, however, a presence. It was in there with her, all around her and coursing not only through the molten magma but right through her as well. She did not know what it was, but it was undeniably the locus, the source of the magic.
Be at peace, came a powerful, all embracing, motherly voice in her head. She realized that no words had been spoken, since none could be, under these conditions; but the voice was so commanding, so authoritative, y
et so friendly and reassuring that it could not be denied.
It was her long-dead mother's voice.
Mother? her mind shot out, trying to reach it.
I am indeed the mother of the Kauri, of which you are almost one, the voice responded.
Who? What... ?
You are troubled, child. The Kauri are not troubled, for were one to be troubled, the race would be troubled. To be troubled is for threats to person or the race, not otherwise. Mohr Jerahl is a place of peace, of art and dance and fun. The Kauri are the creatures of Mohr Jerahl, and so they must reflect its nature. Come to me in the fire, as all those who venture outside our homeland must, and let me ease your trouble. Relax and think not; come unto me and give me your mind.
The creature, whatever it was, hesitated a moment, as if waiting for her, but she did not, could not, yield to it.
You hesitate. You close your mind to me. Why?
I—I'm afraid, she admitted. A change in form is one thing, but I don't want to be not me any longer!
But you will always be you and no other, the voice of her mother soothed. You come from the world of the Creator. He alone fashioned your soul and its nature, and He alone can refashion it. But the shape of that soul is Kauri, deep down. Your sorcerer knew this when he directed your destiny so.
But the Kauri are of this world, not mine! she protested. How can I have a Kauri soul?
Child, the soul is insubstantial, mystical. It exists on the magical plane and on no other. The fairies—all of faerie— are souls bared, souls distilled, unencumbered by human form and fears, for they exist only in the world of supernature. They exist on the plane of pre-creation, before the universes were formed, at the level of elemental, basic magic. Humanity was made by imposing natural law on the soul; natural form, pain, toil, suffering, mortality—these came later, when the Rebels caused the violation of Eden's perfection. All that is now taken from you. All that was mortal and natural in you was borne away when you entered here. The nature of the soul determines the nature of the person.
Demons of the Dancing Gods Page 4
