Skeleton Key

by Piers Anthony

  The children, caught in the middle of this strange interchange that only some of them could follow at all, retreated quietly to the edges of the room. Could these really be Demons manifesting in local hosts?

  Squid thought to them, so that they would understand some of what was happening. Capital D Demons are vastly greater than any human form can emulate. We are seeing only the tiniest fraction of their essence, like single motes of dust in a galaxy of hundreds of millions of stars. Their appearance and dialogue are approximate, as I translate them for you. In reality they are not remotely this crude. They are forces of nature, eternal and infinitely powerful. Just as Fornax is Antimatter, Xanth is the force of Magic. They existed long before we gave them names.

  The two minor Demons looked at each other. “It was a counter-trap,” Dwarf said ruefully.

  “That’s why they returned after being warned away,” Robot agreed. “They brought a hidden Demoness to catch us.”

  “But where did she come from? That’s a male host.”

  “Not really,” Squid said. “Larry is the male body of a female person. Fornax stayed with the female, Laurelai.”

  “So the trap is sprung, and we have our culprit,” Fornax said, satisfied. “Now you children can take your toys home, the miscreants are dealt with, and the mission is accomplished.” She gestured, and the two Dwarf Demons vanished.

  But then her body twisted and stretched as if being deformed like taffy, as it became male again. “Not yet,” Larry’s voice said.

  “What?” Fornax asked, wrestling the voice back.

  “I am the Demon Chaos,” Larry’s voice said. “Begone, slattern.”

  “There is no Demon Chaos,” Laurelai’s voice protested.

  “You think? Then what of this?” A bolt of lightning speared out, curved overhead, and returned to strike the body, which became completely male.

  “Calling backup,” Fornax’s voice said through the smoke as the body fuzzed. The Demons were fighting over the host!

  “Here,” Magnus said in a new voice. “I am the Demon Nemesis, lord of Dark Matter. Unhand my wife, blackguard.”

  More lightning speared out, and Larry reappeared. “I don’t care who you are. You are in my power.”

  “What is this?” Nemesis asked as Fornax reappeared in Laurelai. “Does this idiot really think he can stand off two Demons?”

  “I am going to abolish you,” Chaos said, reappearing. “All of you. I just needed to attract you to my lair.”

  A new form appeared: that of a donkey headed dragon. “What is going on here?” he demanded.

  “I am Chaos. Who are you?”

  “I am the Demon Xanth. You have been raiding my demesnes, stealing my magic, and I am putting a stop to it, now that we have caught you red-handed.” Indeed, as he spoke, Larry’s hands turned red.

  More lightning shot out, framing the room. “You have it backwards, ass face. You, all of you, have been raiding my demesnes, and now at last, I shall put a stop to it. All I needed was the pretext, at long last, and you have provided me that.”

  Squid was silent now. This was amazing! It seemed that four full Demons had manifested here, and the new one was treating the established ones with contempt. How could this possibly be?

  It continued. More Demons arrived, until there were ten of them. Nine familiar ones, according to the memory Squid was provided, and the stranger who called himself Chaos.

  Nemesis assumed the role of spokesman, the other Demons allowing it. “We do not lightly tolerate the arrogance of ignorance. On what basis do you assume the right to assert yourself among us?” This was only approximately the import of his communication, but Squid was obliged to interpret it in her minuscule-mortal terms, and to continue sending a mental translation out to the other children so that they could grasp it too. They were like atoms observing a battle among dragons.

  “I am the original Demon,” Chaos ranted. “The rest of you have been impinging on my territory, carving out your pirate demesnes, all of them stolen from mine. For millennia I have suffered your insults, but now I can abolish all of you in one fell swoop and return reality to its pristine original state. You fell into my counter–counter trap, and have committed yourselves to the fray. All of you are doomed.”

  “You didn’t exist,” Nemesis said. “Now, you appear and think to have things your way? Unlikely.”

  “I existed long before you did, Dark Matter,” Chaos said. “Now I will show my strength. Observe.”

  The room dissipated, along with the castle surrounding it. There was not open sky, but open space. They were looking out at the universe, the myriad galaxies spinning around their axes. Squid realized that she was seeing an accelerated picture, so that motions that took millions of years to happen in regular life seemed to be happening immediately. “This is the abomination I will destroy.”

  “Not while I exist,” the Demon Earth said. “I am Gravity. I hold things together, at every scale.”

  “Then hold that together,” Chaos said. He pointed at a distant minor galaxy. It suddenly exploded, its strings of stars unwinding. “See? No gravity.”

  Earth focused, and the galaxy rewound itself.

  “And that one.” Chaos indicated another, on the other side of the universe. It, too, flew apart.

  Earth focused again, and it came back together.

  “And those.” Three more galaxies tore themselves apart.

  Earth concentrated, and they held together. “I can stop you,” Earth said. “Gravity is my bailiwick. No outsider can overrule me in my own domain.”

  “But you must stay focused, or you will lose it all,” Chaos said.

  “I can stay focused as long as you can. We’re both Demons.”

  “That is only one aspect,” Demon Jupiter said. “Regardless whether galaxies hold together, matter still does, because of my Strong Force. It holds the fundamental atoms together.”

  “Yes, that,” Chaos said. “Observe.” He looked at another galaxy. A portion of it dissipated into fine mist. “No strong force. No solid matter.”

  Now Jupiter focused, and the galaxy mended.

  “And those.” Six more galaxies started to dissolve.

  Jupiter concentrated, and their decomposition ceased.

  But Squid saw that Earth was still focusing to maintain his gravity. Chaos was opposing two other Demons in their domains simultaneously. That would be unimaginable, were it not actually happening.

  This continued, until all the other nine Demons were concentrating to hold on to their domains. Chaos could not destroy them, but neither could the other Demons retain them without continuously concentrating. It was like holding down a table full of papers in a stiff wind: it could be done, but it absorbed a person’s whole attention.

  The Demons were at an impasse. Chaos could not destroy the works of the others, but neither could they stop him from attacking. He was as strong as all the others combined. It was pointless to continue striving when there could be no decision.

  “Compromise,” the Demon Xanth suggested. “A Demon Wager in the standard format, designed to be absolutely fair, decided by the random chance of the actions of an ignorant mortal. All parties to abide by the decision, whatever it may be. The issue is the fate of the universe: whether it continue as it is, or be abolished.”

  “Agreed,” Chaos said. Squid was surprised, but then saw that it made sense. This gave him a fifty fifty chance to prevail, with much less effort. It was better than a perpetual impasse.

  “Make it three trials,” the Demon Neptune suggested. “Of different natures.”

  “Agreed.” Clearly Chaos wanted to get the matter settled.

  “Two out of three wins the issue.”

  “Agreed,” Chaos said. “Select a suitable mortal and venue.”

  “I propose Squid, here in Caprice Castle,” Fornax said. “She ha
s perspective beyond the ordinary, because of her nature. She understands different sides.”

  Squid’s body seemed to turn to ice. No!

  “Agreed.”

  But of course she didn’t have a choice. She had known it from the start of this story, when she had been selected to be the protagonist. The fate of the universe depended on her, regardless of her wishes. “I am mortal, but I’m not ignorant,” she argued desperately. “I have seen the wager being set up. I know the stakes.”

  They ignored her. “And give her a weapon,” the Demon Mars said. His was the Electromagnetic Force. “One that will not betray her and will always be ready at hand, so she can defend herself from surprise attack.”

  “Agreed. But her opposition must have a similar weapon, to keep it fair.”

  A wall filled with mounted knives appeared before Squid: big ones, small ones, swords, daggers, dirks.

  “I don’t want a knife!” Squid protested.

  The knives were replaced by clubs of every size and description, all neatly mounted for the display.

  “Or a club!”

  The clubs faded, to be replaced by Mundane pistols, rifles, shotguns, machine guns, and specialty firearms.

  “Or guns!”

  The wall went blank. “What, then,” Mars asked. “You must choose a weapon.”

  Squid thought fast. “The question,” she said, “with insight to make it the right one for the occasion. And it’s fine if my opponent has a similar weapon. And when asked, it has to be honestly answered.”

  “The Word as a Weapon. Good choice. Done.”

  Then the scene dissolved, and Squid found herself alone in the castle. No Demons, no captive adults, no children. Just the bare halls.

  How was this a contest? She didn’t even know how to make the castle move. So maybe she was ignorant after all, in a way that counted.

  She walked through it, finding nothing but eerie emptiness. What was she supposed to do or understand or accept or oppose? She had no idea. Was it that there was something she had to find, and if she failed, she’d lose? At least she could look.

  She could not sense them, but knew that the Demons and the mortals were watching. None of them could affect her decision or indecision in any current way, by the rules of the Wager, but their fates and her own depended on it, whatever it was. So of course they were paying attention.

  She found nothing on the ground floor or the cellar. All was quiet and barren. So she mounted the steps to the upper floors, checking every chamber. Nothing. She didn’t know what she had expected, if she had expected anything at all, but it certainly wasn’t this.

  Nothing was left except a circular stairway to the highest chamber, so she climbed that. Finally, she came to the topmost turret and gazed out the stone loophole that passed for a window. The castle hovered above the sea. It was a long way down. This was a kind of embrasure, with crenels or gaps in the battlement. She could easily jump through a crenel and plunge down into the water and swim away, but that would mean abandoning the Wager and forfeiting the issue. She could not do that.

  So what was left? She had searched the castle, and if there was anything to find, she had failed to find it. Had she already lost the first trial? Well, she would just have to look again.

  Then she got a notion. Why not use her awareness of people? Others had to be thinking about her.

  She tried to tune in, but there was mental silence. Her ability to tune in on other minds was blocked, probably because she had to figure this out on her own. Except for one faint signal. Someone was, maybe bound and gagged, trying to call to her, but stifled. Where?

  She oriented on it and got a direction. It was actually close by, in a stone storage cell down the stairway just below the turret. The mind was struggling with horror, perhaps at being confined. Now there was also a weak murmur, as of a stifled sob. Someone was trapped. This had to be what she was supposed to find.

  Squid saw a closed stone door, the kind that could be opened from the outside but not the inside. She took hold if it and pulled. Slowly it opened.

  Inside was—

  “Win!” she cried gladly, seeing her friend standing there.

  The girl shook her head. “Not exactly. You should have left that door alone.”

  There was something off about her voice. And her mind.

  Then Squid recognized the horror of it. “The Sea Hag!”

  “I am not happy to make your acquaintance,” the Hag said.

  “But you were banished to the Void, where nothing escapes!”

  “I was freed by a Demon, and given this fine young body. All I have to do to keep it is eliminate you.”

  Now Squid understood her vision. It was not her friend Win she had to fight, but the horror that had taken over her body. Win was still in there, of course, but cruelly suppressed by the evil spirit that now governed her body. That was the stifled sob she had picked up on: Win. The Hag seldom, if ever, let go of a body before it was old, crippled, or dead. Win was doomed. It would actually be a kindness to kill her.

  Kill me, Win begged. I can’t stand this horror.

  Squid appreciated her position. The Hag would make her body do appalling things. After Noe had been possessed by the Hag a year ago, she had wanted to commit suicide because of the foulness of the memory, even after the Hag departed. But could that be all? Was killing the body of her friend the test of her mettle, the sacrifice necessary to preserve the universe? That could not be right.

  “No. I’m not going to fight my friend.”

  “As if you have a choice, my precious. I will kill you.” And the Hag leaped at her, fingers extended in claws.

  Squid softened her limbs where the fingers clutched, so that they slid off. She turned to the side, so that the Hag lunged on past her and came up against the opposite wall. She clung there half a moment, reorienting.

  “What else did the Demon promise you?” Squid asked, remembering her weapon of the Question. This might be relevant. “A nice young body isn’t enough, if the universe ends.”

  “I will be Queen of Xanth,” the Hag answered, as she had to.

  “You can’t be Queen, either, if the universe ends.”

  “He will save just enough of Xanth for me to govern. This nice body and my little kingdom. That’s enough.”

  “But—”

  “Enough of this stalling!” the Hag screeched. “I’m going to blow you away!” and a blast of air came from her, pushing Squid against the wall. She couldn’t approach the woman, couldn’t get hold of her.

  That was right; the Sea Hag could use the host’s talent. She could blow with hurricane force if she chose. She could literally blow Squid out of the castle, or blow her into a wall so hard it killed her.

  This was dangerous. Squid needed time to figure things out.

  Squid fled back up the steps, but the Hag pursued her, preceded by her wind. Could Squid somehow get behind her, where there was no wind? That might be her most likely chance.

  She reached the parapet. Now the crenels of the battlement seemed unconscionably wide. It would be all too easy to get blown through there!

  “Got you cornered, you alien creature,” the Hag said. “If you have any last words, stifle them. I’ve got a kingdom to win.” She revved up her wind, ready to blow Squid away.

  Squid ran to the side, trying to circle her, to get behind. But the Hag kept facing her, aware of that danger. The Hag had hundreds of centuries experience dealing with enemies, because everyone was her enemy, for good reason. No chance there.

  Now was the time, her only chance. “Why do you think the Demon will honor his word to you, and give you a kingdom?”

  And the Hag had to answer honestly; it was part of the weapon of the Question. “Because it is fair payment for my service to him in eliminating you. It is easy enough for him to do. A mere detail. He’s a Demon.�
��

  “But suppose he is lying about that detail?”

  “Why would he?”

  And the key question. “Would you lie in such a situation, to get your way conveniently with no continuing obligation?”

  The Hag paused. Of course she would lie, and she judged others by herself. So by her own definition, the Demon’s promise was meaningless. In her distraction, the wind died down.

  Squid flung herself across the space between them and wrapped her arms around the body. Then, before the Hag could react, she heaved her to the battlement and leaped through the crenel, carrying them both into the air.

  “What are you doing?” the Hag screeched. “Killing us both?” It had never occurred to her that Squid would want to jump off the parapet.

  “Maybe,” Squid said as they fell.

  Then they hit the water and plunged below. Squid maintained her hold on the other, so that they both went deep.

  The Hag was from the sea, but she was in a host that could not breathe water. Squid, being a cuttlefish, could. So while the Hag struggled vainly for air, Squid breathed the water through her gills. She could handily outlast the other body, waiting for it to drown. She was killing her friend. Even if Squid let go of her now, there would not be time for the body to reach the surface and breathe before it drowned.

  At last, seeing the hopelessness of it, knowing that she had lost the fight, the Hag elected at least to save her spirit. She left the body and drifted away through the water. She would be returned to the Void, a loser. Squid had won.

  Except that in the process she was also killing her friend.

  But she didn’t have to. Had the Hag done her homework she would have learned that Squid could breathe both air and water simultaneously. Now she breathed the water in with her gills, put her mouth to Win’s mouth, and breathed air out, giving her mouth-to-mouth respiration. And swam for the surface, taking them both there.

  Their heads finally popped above the water. “Thanks!” Win gasped. “For both! You got rid of the Hag, and you saved my life.”

  “We’re siblings,” Squid said, “and friends. How could I do less?”