But that's the way things were supposed to work. In the early days, though, they needed a nudge. That's what the original fairies were for on your own world. Of course, they weren't that needed, and now those who are left are hunted, oppressed, or hiding out and coping. That's part of my job—finding them and bringing them over here, where we still need them. You see, Joe, this world wasn't as thoroughly planned out or carefully formed as yours, so compromises had to be made. Not only are the fairies vital, but the wild card is magic, which fills in the holes, so to speak. It's actually a more awkward system, but it's worked out pretty well so far.
This is all leading somewhere.
Smart lad. First, I want you to remember and accept what I've just said. Marge is still culturally and intellectually of your world, so there's still somebody around to talk to. However, she's also of faerie, an elemental, and that controls her actions and attitudes from here on in.
You talk as if she's some kind of smart bee or something.
Well, that's close. Faerie nature and function is instinctive.
It's in the genes, if you will. The intellect is imposed over that, and is subservient to it. Not that fairies are any dumber than humans—many are far smarter—but they have less control. Instinctive behavior, of which we have almost none, comes first. That's why you're going to have to be both patient and understanding with her, Joe. I don't want you two at each other's throat or mad or upset at one another. I can't afford it.
I'll try. But I notice you keep dancing around the subject without actually coming to it. Don't you think it's about time you stopped discussing the troubles I have and start telling me about the troubles you're going to give me?
Ruddygore grinned, but the grin faded quickly. I'm after the end game, Joe. The coup de grace. The Baron's planning something and we don't know what it is. Whole armies have simply vanished, and we don't think they've been disbanded or used internally—he has far too many troops and far too much magic for that.
And, somehow, you want me and Marge to find out what's going on.
If you could, it would be a bonus, but I have others working on that. No, Joe, if all goes as planned here this week, I'm going to play my own end game, my separate table. Even if we find out what's up and stop it, it will only be another short victory before something else is tried, then another thing and another. But if I can take out the chief player in this game, I can set these demonic plans back for a generation or more, until they find a new Dark Baron and properly corrupt, train, and position him or her. It's the Baron I want, son—nothing else matters as much.
Joe nodded. So you're going to try and smoke him out here, then send us against him. The demon can't interfere, so Marge vamps him and Irving runs him through, huh?
The sorcerer chuckled. I wish it were that simple. I really do. But Marge would be powerless against somebody of the Baron's strength. In fact, that's her biggest danger. Right now she's feeling her powers and she's cocky and overconfident, which is to be expected. But her powers are really quite limited and easily muted—probably by half or more of the delegates arriving here.
That worried Joe. Uh—I've seen the results already of what one of you boys can do when you get irritated.
I'll talk to her. Hmmm... No, that wouldn't do it. I know— I'll set her up.
Huh?
I'll have a couple of old friends get to know her. Either one will become as nasty or obnoxious as the situation permits, and she'll find herself powerless to defend herself. Maybe we'll stick a harmless spell on her, like compulsive singing and dancing or something like that. It will take her down a peg, make her more cautious.
Well, I'll leave that to you. But if she's powerless against the Baron—and I know he could turn me into a toad before I got close—then what are we going to do?
During the convention, I, along with Poquah, Macore, and several others not obviously with me, will pursue various lines of investigation. With any luck, we're going to be able to narrow down the Baron's probable identity.
Good trick. How many real high-class magicians are here? Two thousand?
Closer to ten thousand, but that doesn't matter. The Baron cannot conceal the fact that he is one of the top masters of the art in the world. I took him on, you remember, and I know. He fought me to a draw, and you get where I am today by going head to head in some very serious contests of wills and magical talent. More importantly, all the talent in the world won't help you achieve true command unless you have these contests with the masters. Why, here I'll probably take on a dozen challengers for my Council seat. It's the only way they learn and, eventually, the only way they get on the Council. The Baron got his skills through such sorcerers' battles, since there is no other way to get them. Consider—he became that good, good enough to tie me, without ever having taken me on before. I'd know if he had, believe me. A battle technique's like a fingerprint. And since the only truly powerful wizards I've never taken on are those on the Council who have made the Council after me, I deduce that our Baron is not only a councillor but one of the newer ones.
All right, that makes sense, I guess. So it's one of thir— ah, twelve people.
Uh-huh. And it's easier than that, since six of the twelve do not live in Husaquahr, and I'm certain that the Baron must.
We have pretty good records of where the others were, considering the distances involved and magical transportation means, while the Baron was active here. He simply must be on top of things through his expanding empire, and that means a Husaquahrian. So now it is one of six, and we shall try to narrow that down further as we go here.
Uh-huh. And if you do?
Then it's your turn. I need proof, Joe. I need absolute, incontrovertible proof that the Baron is a tool of a demon prince. Only with that proof will the Council act against one of its own, and only the Council can do the job.
Are you sure even of that? I mean, there are several of the Council working with him, aren't there? Don't a bunch live in lands he controls?
Quite true, but you misunderstand the seriousness of the affair. The more truly evil and corrupt a sorcerer is, the more stake he has in making certain that the covenant between Heaven and Hell remains unbroken. If Hell breaks the covenant, then the Creator's forces are free to do the same, and that means total war to the finish between the two sides. Armageddon. The end of all the universes. And on whose side will those evil and corrupt ones find themselves?
Joe's Sunday school was a little weak, but he thought he had the idea. Uh-huh. So they've got their cushy evilness here, kinda like the Wicked Witch in Oz. They have their own crazy idea of Heaven now, and they won't be anxious to pay the bill.
You have it. I'm convinced Hell, too, doesn't really know about this. I don't think they're ready for the final battle, which, of course, they intend to win by picking their own time and place. Last I checked, old Lucifer's still got his heart set on nuclear war over on your side. But since he started his whole career on disloyalty and treachery, it's little wonder that his underlings echo that, even to him. He's so busy spreading his little bombs all over Earth, he's not paying any attention to our side, and that's his mistake. So you see, Joe, the odds aren't totally stacked against you. It's few people who have both God and the devil on their side. Maybe you can also now appreciate the real stakes. You have a son, I recall?
Joe nodded. Yeah. In Philadelphia. I think about him a lot. That's why I named my sword after him.
So don't let your emotions get the better of you. A lot hangs on you and Marge getting along and working together. I'll have a little chat with her later on in the convention, perhaps after she's learned her lesson.
Joe knew it was a dismissal and he was glad for it. Besides, the coffee was all gone here, but there was more in the parlor, he was sure. Still, one thing bothered him. As he got up and turned to go, he suddenly turned back to the big sorcerer. Uh—you say you're gonna have to fight a bunch of up-and coming sorcerers here?
Ruddygore nodded. That's the way it is.
Any chance you'll lose?
There's always a chance, but I've already looked over this group and it looks like a pretty lean crop this season. Not that some of 'em don't have potential—maybe in twenty or thirty years they'll be up to it, but not now.
Now, don't you get cocky, either.
Point taken, swordsman to magician. Ruddygore snapped his fingers. Oh, I almost forgot. Has Tiana arrived yet?
Joe shrugged. I don't know. I wouldn't know her if I bumped into her.
Oh, if you bump into her, you'll know, Joe, I promise you. You two should get along very well, actually. Ask Poquah for her background when you get a moment.
Okay, I'll do that. See you later?
Perhaps. Perhaps not for some time. Relax and enjoy yourself here. Consider it a vacation with pay and relax. In another week you're going back to work.
I'm going to do just that, Joe assured him and left.
This your first one of these things? Joe asked Macore over coffee and pastry in the parlor.
The little thief nodded. You better believe it. Man, I wouldn't try to hustle any of these babies. Their rooms and belongings have magical guardians. You run a con on 'em, even if it works, and they send out the spirit world to get you wherever you are. Uh-uh. This is one convention that's safe as a holy temple.
So how come you're here?
Macore grinned. I was asked. Well, more than asked. Better you don't know any more, for your own sake as well as mine. If the old boy wants to tell you, then we'll talk.
I think I get the idea. Ruddygore was at least the equal of any of the top sorcerers here, so he could offer major protection to a thief—and a master thief, able to tap magical powers through his boss, would be quite an asset here. Looking for—what? Joe wondered. A suit of ghostly armor? Certainly something, anything, that would lead to the identity of the Dark Baron, probably through the adepts. They wouldn't have as good protection, and they'd be overconfident here. Any adepts working directly for the Baron had to know, and, if they did, there might be something telltale somewhere. Joe didn't envy the little thief his job, but he appreciated the risks involved. For some of these more-than-human sorcerers, death wasn't the worst thing to fear.
They had begun talking about old times when there was a sudden, sharp pounding on the door, and all conversation ceased. Poquah emerged from his own room and went to the door, opening it. After a glance, he admitted the newcomer.
At first sight of her, all other topics were forgotten by Joe. As Ruddygore had said, if he ever bumped into Tiana, he'd know.
She was, quite simply, the most beautiful woman Joe had ever seen; from the expressions on the faces of the others, he wasn't alone in that assessment. It was hard to go beyond that. Everything about her was absolutely perfect—perfect figure, perfect proportions, and a beautiful, sensuous face. Her skin was tanned a deep and very dark brown, matching her eyes, but her lips were curiously light and very enticing. Her jetblack hair hung down almost to her narrow, perfect waist, while her skin was as smooth and blemish-free as polished ebony. She looked, Joe thought, like some stunning Italian movie star; there was a Mediterranean cast to her features, as if she belonged somewhere romping on the beaches of the Riviera, and that thought was enhanced by the fact that she was wearing only a breechclout made of the hide of some furry brown animal and a halter of the same material that did nothing to hide her obvious attributes, as well as a necklace of what looked like gold chain to which small, carved pieces of bone had been attached. From a sword belt, a broadsword nearly the size of Joe's hung in a leather scabbard. The belt was worn loosely, emphasizing the curve of her hips.
Probably the most outstanding thing about her was that she was barefoot, yet stood well over six feet tall. In fact, when Joe stood up, transfixed, he found her to be perhaps a half inch shorter than his own six-six—and he was wearing new sandals.
For a moment, nobody said anything, so she walked briskly into the room and looked around. Well? Is everyone struck dumb? she said irritably, her voice deep and rich. She spoke with a trace of what sounded like a German accent to Joe; but, considering the fact that this was a world with languages different from his, it might only seem that way.
Poquah was quick to recover. Tiana, I presume. I am Poquah, the Master's chief associate. These gentlemen here are Macore, Joseph, and Durin, respectively.
She looked them all over, then settled on Joe and frowned. That is an unusual name here, Joseph. Where are you from?
Philadelphia, he told her.
Oh, that is in the United States of America, I believe, she responded, literally shocking the hell out of him.
Uh, yeah, it is, but how... ?
I was never there, but for seven years I was in hiding in Basel, Switzerland.
This was too much at one time. Switzerland! How? But instantly he knew the answer. Only one person he knew could hide a Husaquahrian in Europe, and that person was in the next room.
I was the oldest daughter of Hapandur of Morikay. When I was but nine years old, he was defeated at a gathering just like this one by that pig Kaladon, whom my father had befriended and treated as a son. She went over, looked at the pastries, took one, then sat down on the couch and sprawled out.
Joe sank back into his chair. Suddenly the coffee didn't seem a strong enough drink right about then. He'd once described Marge's moves as catlike; Tiana was a tigress.
So you had to make a run for it, huh? Macore prompted. Barely five foot five and perhaps a hundred and twenty pounds, he couldn't help feeling like a little child who'd just come across a ten-thousand-gallon chocolate sundae.
She nodded. Yes. Kaladon had dreams that he would marry me as soon as I was old enough, thus legitimizing his rule, since everyone knew the bastard won only by cheating. He actually made advances to me, an innocent of nine!
Joe just followed along, but couldn't help wondering how Tiana could ever have been an innocent nine-year-old.
Well, with the help of some fairies loyal to my poor father, I escaped, but Kaladon pursued. Fortunately, the faerie network got me to Ruddygore, one of my father's few very close friends who could be trusted, and he took me out of reach for a while.
But you came back, Joe noted. Why?
I was discovered. Kaladon is in league with Hell itself; in exchange for certain favors here, ones which involved aiding the Dark Baron, the demons of Earth sought me out and attacked. It seemed pointless to remain there when this was my native land, so I was returned. I have been in hiding since, these past eight years, moving with the wild tribes and studying and training when I could in both the magical and the combat arts. I have grown quite good. That last was said without any trace of boasting, and they believed it.
But now you're back, and in the same hotel as this Kaladon, Macore pointed out. Why? Are you ready to take him on?
No, I do not believe that I am ready for him yet. One day
I will be and I will reclaim what is mine by rights. I was summoned here by Dr. Ruddygore, and, considering what I owe him, I could not refuse. It makes no difference. Kaladon had found me out, anyway, and killed many of those who were closest to me.
Then you are in great danger here, Macore suggested.
Kaladon will know you are here.
He dares do nothing at the convention unless he wishes to challenge Dr. Ruddygore, she told him. And that he is not up to doing under any circumstances.
Quite true, came a voice behind her, and they all turned to see the great sorcerer enter the room, resplendent now in his golden robes. He has already been informed that any move against Tiana will make in me an enemy he can not avoid in this public place.
Ruddy! Tiana cried out joyfully. In a flash she'd gotten up, turned, and actually jumped over her chair, finally reaching and embracing the sorcerer, who, if he'd been of lesser size and bulk, would certainly have been bowled over.
Joe looked at Macore. Ruddy?
The little thief tried to suppress a laugh, and it was clear that Ruddyg
ore was not amused. Still, he tolerated the display and attempted to pass it off. Tiana, it is good to see you once again. I must be going downstairs to find out my schedule, but I can spare a moment. Come—sit just a bit.
She moved obediently back to her chair and settled there. Joe bet a bundle to himself that nobody else could ever get such meek obedience from her. Ruddygore did not sit, but stood facing them all. That spell I sent you—I gather it worked?
She smiled and nodded. Very well indeed. In fact, I passed the usurper in the lobby here and he never recognized me.
Macore looked crestfallen. You mean she really doesn't look like that?
Ruddygore chuckled both at the question and at the mean look Tiana gave the little thief. Oh, my, yes, the sorcerer assured them all. The spell is a particularly powerful and undetectable one, since it's tailored strictly to Kaladon and affects no one else. To him, and to him alone, Tiana looks quite different, although still rather striking. Basically a blond, blue-eyed, and fair-skinned priestess from the northern wastes, if I remember correctly. It's just enough of a change so that she is definitely not Tiana to him in looks, voice, or habit, but close enough that the reactions of those around him will be consistent with what he sees. It's a thin disguise at best, but I don't expect him to crack it easily, since he's very confident that no one can put an undetectable spell over on him. Don't rely on it too heavily, my dear.
I am not worried about him, she said confidently. Not with you around, anyway.
He just shrugged. Well, I must get down there. Tiana, I've had you preregistered as Uma of the Golden Lakes, just as an extra precaution. Why make it any easier on him, after all? I'm also curious to see how long it's going to take him to find you out.
That is fine with me, she told him. I will see you later, then.
With that, Ruddygore turned and, accompanied by Poquah, left the suite.
Have you any luggage coming? Joe asked her.
She shook her head. None. I travel as light as I possibly can. You learn that most of all after eight years in hiding. Always I carry my sword with me, and in the belt is a hidden compartment in which there are some coins and gems. The only thing I don't have with me is my bullwhip. I was forced to abandon it a few weeks ago, so I will have to get another here.
Demons of the Dancing Gods Page 11
