Demons of the Dancing Gods (28 page)

and hissed at him. The creature was a rather sickly blue and

covered in scales, and Joe had no time to reflect on what the

hell the thing might be. The gleaming sword in its humanoid

right hand told him his job, and Irving came up to parry a

blow. They were joined.

He concentrated on fancy footwork and positioning as usual

and let Irving do the work. This thing, whatever it was, was

no pushover, though; it was incredibly strong, and he reeled

under the force of its blows, even as Irving parried them. Still,

he had greater maneuverability and was able to jump once he

got the rhythm of the attacker's sword strokes. He leaped sidewise

and let Irving sweep out of the way; the creature missed,

and its own momentum carried it forward. Joe brought his great

sword down quickly and sliced right through the creature's

scaly neck. Greenish ichor squirted out from the gaping wound,

and the creature roared and reeled backward, dropping its sword.

Joe pressed forward, plunging Irving into the creature's abdomen

several times and drawing even more green blood.

Satisfied, he turned and saw Tiana taking on a squat, solid

humanoid. The thing was a head shorter than she, but totally

hairless and built like a tank, with huge, clawed hands grasping

a lethal-looking sword. Joe paused to note the expression of

sheer joy on her face as she swung her sword again and again,

matching the pirate blow for blow. She was good, he decided.

At that moment, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his back

and cried out, whirling at the same time; this maneuver brought

him face to face with a thing he could only think of as a fourarmed

creature from the Black Lagoon. Each of its four hands

held a weapon, but one held a broken-off staff, telling Joe that

he had been pierced with a spear.

Too mad really to feel the wound, he screamed and swung

Irving up and at the creature, who lifted one of its two swords

to parry.

This was a tough adversary, since it could use all four arms

separately and had the strength to wield its own broadsword

with only one hand. Joe knew that this sort of creature was

deadly to most opponents, but he'd been trained by an equally

ugly, four-armed monster named Gorodo and he knew the

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tricks, moves, and weak spots.

The creature, too, was damned good; in the hack, slash,

and move attack Joe employed, trying to get position, he suffered

a wound for every one he scored—but soon two of the

thing's arms were flopping on the deck, and it was roaring in

pain and flinging its swords wildly in front of itself in a hopeless

defense. Joe easily moved under the swords and struck deeply

again and again into the thing's armored chest, so strong his

anger and so powerful his sword that the armor proved no

protection at all.

The creature howled in agony, dropping both swords, and

Joe rushed it, pushed it against the rail, then shoved it over.

He heard a thud rather than a splash and took the time to look

over the side. The creature had struck the pirate ship and now

lay sprawled on the deck.

He turned again and saw Tiana engaging a large, toughlooking

human swordsman. Praying that it wasn't a crew member,

he looked for more game. His eyes went up to the aft

pilothouse, where he saw a hairy man climbing the ladder to

the wheel. It was clear that, if the pilot was still up there, he'd

been felled by a bolt or an arrow. Using his sword as a passage

through the deck fighting, Joe made for the ladder himself.

Any doubt that the man now up on the wheelhouse level

was a pirate was dispelled as the fellow shouted down to the

pirate craft to pull away, then headed for the wheel.

Joe appeared almost in front of him; for a moment, the two

just stared at each other. The pirate, Joe saw, was as cold and

nasty-looking a character as he'd ever faced, but the man didn't

seem to have any weapon. "Come out from behind that wheel

or die there!" Joe challenged.

The pirate chuckled and spat. "Goodbye, barbarian!" he

snapped and raised his hand in a motion suggesting he was

about to throw something. Joe ducked as a small fireball sped

past him, right through the spot where he'd just been standing.

Joe knew now that he was dealing with at least a low-level

adept and was at risk, but he couldn't wait for reinforcements.

The pirate was already turning the wheel hard, bringing the

Tolah about and separating it from the convoy. Crouching, Joe

made his way around the back of the wheelhouse and prepared

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to rush the pirate. Taking a deep breath, he stood and moved

into the wheelhouse with a cry that stopped in mid-utterance.

The wheelhouse was empty.

"Nice try, barbarian. Now it's time to die," the pirate said

from behind him. Idly, the man made the tossing motion, and

Irving, with its own life, began to parry the little fireballs as

they came.

Joe at the same time eased back to the door on the other

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side and quickly ducked around, then pressed himself against

the cabin wall. He wasn't sure what to do now.

The pirate walked calmly out from behind the wheelhouse

and looked at him, grinning. "Nice work. Too bad I can't afford

any prisoners. With a little seasoning, you'd be one hell of a

pirate yourself."

Joe tensed and turned to face the man standing only a few

yards from him, trying to figure out if he could throw Irving

with enough speed and force so that the adept would be unable

to parry.

Suddenly a figure seemed to appear from nowhere and come

to rest between them, facing the adept. It was small enough

that the two men could see right over the newcomer.

"Marge!" Joe cried. "Watch it!"

She spread her wings and looked at the pirate adept. "Want

to practice on me first?"

"Out of my way, fairy, or you bum!" the pirate snarled.

"Go ahead."

This time both hands went up, and from the pirate's palms

came a tremendous surge of yellow energy. It struck Marge

fully, and Joe cried out, "No!"

Suddenly the pirate adept stopped and stared at the Kauri,

his expression of confidence fading with his magical energy

bolts, to be replaced by a look of sheer fright. "No! Don't!"

he cried.

Joe was behind Marge and so could not fully see what the

adept was seeing, but he could see a huge field of yellow energy

shoot from her back at the pirate. The man screamed and was

suddenly enveloped in crackling flames. He fried on the spot.

Marge put down her wings, turned, and grinned at Joe, who

was just gaping at her. "I thought you couldn't fight," he

managed.

The grin grew broader. "But I can defend. He attacked me,

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and he got exactly what he gave. Gee—that was kinda neat.

I didn't even use all of it, you know. Let me see whether I

can release the rest of it down below." She walked to the front

of the wheelhouse and looked down at the fight, which was

certainly now going the merchant's way but was still pretty

fierce. Extending her wings again, she picked out those she

could who had to be pirates. Little spurts of yellow energy shot

from her; down below, humans and nonhumans alike yelled

and screamed in pain. It wasn't nearly enough to kill, only to

sting or bum, but the shock of getting hit with a bolt was

enough to distract the pirates from the people who were cheerfully

trying to kill them and who took full advantage of their

added worry.

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Joe went back to the wheelhouse. He had no idea how to

run one of these things, but he saw the rest of the convoy a

thousand yards distant and going away. At least, he knew

enough to bring the wheel around so that the Tolah was heading

back toward its friends. He only hoped that somebody was left

down there who knew how to find the brakes on the thing.

That proved an easy task to tell, since the sight of many of

their people being killed and of Joe in the wheelhouse was too

much for the pirates, who began to break off, close in as a

group, and make for the rail where their corvette was lashed.

"Marge—you got any juice left?" he yelled.

She turned. "A little, I think. Why?"

"Fly down there and zap the two lines holding their boat to

this one! They'll have to swim for it!"

"Gotcha!" With that she was off, over the side and out of

his sight. A moment later he felt a bump and, looking over,

he could see the mast of the pirate ship begin to move away

from the Tolah. He grinned. "Good girl!"

Suddenly he saw a thick plume of inky black smoke appear

near that pirate mast. Marge flew back up to him and landed,

looking very satisfied with herself.

"They're on fire!" he almost shouted.

She nodded. "I wondered how much juice I had, so after I

zapped the ropes, I saw all this crap on their deck they use for

the fireballs. It was real easy to light."

He looked down again and saw the remaining pirates leaping

over the side. "Damn! Too bad we can't get 'em all, or at least

one, alive."

DEMONS OF THE DANCING GODS

154

"I'm not sure there's much chance of that," Marge replied.

"They had to climb to the top of the rail, which is about five

feet, then jump clear of the running board or whatever it is. I

make it a jump of maybe twelve feet and I think the water here

is only two or three feet deep. The way we're still swinging

around, they'll all still be stuck headfirst in the mud when we

run over them."

CHAPTER !I

ZH1MBOMBE

A percentage of all seats of magic shall be dark towers, said

percentage to be not less than twenty percent of all such seats of

power at any given time. Practitioners of the black arts shall be

given preference for these locations.

—Rules, IV, 203(b) & (c)

BOTH MARGE AND TIANA LOOKED HIM OVER BACK ON THE

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Pacah and did a joint shaking of heads. Joe was almost covered

in blood, much of it his own, and Marge swore that she had

seen a crewman on the Tolah pull the working end of a spear

out of his back; yet when the blood was washed off, there

seemed not a sign or mark on him, front or back.

"It's a spell, I think," he told them at last, "although just

how much I want to push it, I'm not really sure. I don't want

to test it by getting my skull crushed or my head lopped off or

anything like that, but it seemed to do its job here. Trouble is,

a weapon still hurts just as much going in as it always did,

damn it."

Both women studied him, skepticism written all over their

faces. Finally Marge said, "I've just run through the entire

spectrum and I can't see a spell anywhere. Joe—are you holding

something back from us?"

JACK L. CHALKER

155

He sighed. "Well, you'll find out about it sooner or later,

anyway. Urn, would it be clearer if I told you that only things

made of silver can cause hard wounds or kill me?"

"A werewolf!" Tiana exclaimed, slightly shocked.

"A were Pekingese, more likely, unless I miss my guess,"

Marge responded. "Is that it?"

He nodded. "Only it's not a werewolf or a weredog." Giving

up, he told them what Ruddygore and Poquah had made plain

to him. "So, you see, I didn't even want to come on this crazy

mission. I've been trying not to think about it since I found

out."

"Well, you said you wanted a little magic," Marge reminded

him. "Looks as if it's handy magic at that. Either the spear or

the sword into your belly might have done you in during that

fight back there—or you'd probably be badly infected, at least.

As it is, you're sitting here chewing on an apple and feeling

fine."

He looked over at Tiana, who seemed very uncertain about

this whole business. Aside from a very small nick on the arm,

she'd fought through without any problems and without the aid

of a magic sword, too. Still, it was she he was most worried

about. "Does all this make a difference to you?" he asked her

nervously.

She shook her head wonderingly. "I—I do not know. On

the face of it, certainly not, but when the moon is full... I

' do not know. The curse is transferable, and who knows how

much self-control you might have?"

/ "A fair amount," he replied. "That's why it's so rare. That

Peke wouldn't have bitten me if I hadn't stepped on its tail. I

think it's something I'm just going to have to endure, like

people with malaria. We'll have to see."

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"Maybe it will even come in handy," Marge said thoughtfully.

"In a way, it already has done so."

Tochik was another version of Zichis, although it spread on