Demons of the Dancing Gods (45 page)

told them.

"You couldn't get near her?"

"Oh, I located her, all right. The trouble is, Kaladon seems

to be in the same room with her at all times. The moment I

try to break the spell, he's going to be aware of it. Incidentally,

you might be interested to know that, although the physical

changes remain, inside here she reverts to her old height, which

was still considerable."

Joe nodded. "That's a relief. But if Kaladon never leaves

her side, we've got problems. How long will it take you to

break the spell?"

"Only a minute or so. But that is a very long time if he

knows immediately and can react. The lines of magic from me

to her will be instantly recognizable to him and traceable back

to me."

Joe thought a moment. "Well, we're in no position to have

him called away. That means we have to distract or confuse

him... Hmmm... Yeah. Why not? I've been Marge twice, so

why not?"

"Why not what?" Marge asked him.

"Poquah, how hard is it going to be to sneak me into a place

of concealment near where they're likely to be at sunset?"

JACK L. CHALKER

247

"They handle business in a magnificently appointed throne

room," the Imir replied. "Their bedchambers are right behind.

A large study and apartment, actually. They take their meals

there as well. Why?"

Joe told him his plan, and both Marge and Poquah were

aghast at it.

"Still and all, it's an interesting try," the Imir said at last,

"and our technical advisor recommends trying it if it is at all

possible. I have a few spells of concealment and nonrecognition

I've used before and just used now. I can get you in, and myself

as well. But the Creator have mercy if you so much as sneeze."

"I'll take the chance," Joe replied. "Just be ready."

"Above all, do not look at her if you can avoid it," Poquah

told him. "It is possible, even probable, that the conversation

spell does not operate in here, when she is human and normal

size, but we can't take any chances."

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Poquah set up a watch and waited until the receiving room

was clear of business and both Kaladon and Tiana had retired

to the rear apartment for lunch. With the aid of Poquah's magic,

Joe found himself able to reach the room with no trouble and

he was impressed with the way it looked—like some reception

area from the age of kings, with grand tapestries behind the

velvet-lined throne of solid gold. He got behind the tapestries

all right, then settled down as best he could for the long wait.

Poquah would have to remain outside until after dark, lest Joe's

curse go the wrong way. Even now there was a fifty-fifty chance

of real problems.

Throughout the afternoon, it was maddening to hear the

voices of both Kaladon and Tiana, the latter on the throne just

in front of Joe, but he held onto what patience he could. As

the afternoon wore on, though, he certainly wished he could

go to the bathroom.

Tiana sounded wonderful but imperious. There was a lot of

work to be done and lots of people to be seen. Joe was certain

that the only reason he had escaped detection was because it

would simply never occur to Kaladon that such a thing was

even possible.

Several times, sometimes for long periods, Tiana would

leave the throne, and many times both of them would leave

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the room and then return, causing Joe a great deal of worry.

He had no clock, no window, no way at all to know what the

situation was, and he could only wait and listen and hope.

Still and all, it worked. Tiana was, in fact, sitting on the

throne at sunset, while Kaladon was tending to some paperwork

across the room. Joe knew immediately that the change had

occurred, smiled, leaned down, and picked up the small gold

charm he'd taken in with him but not worn. "Go," he whispered

into it, hoping that only the one on the other end would hear.

He then got up, brushed back the impossibly long silver hair,

and stuck the little gadget in his ear.

Outside, a door opened, and a man's voice said humbly,

"Begging your worshipful Highness' pardon, but there is an

Imir outside."

Kaladon was quick to get suspicious. "What? How did he

get in?"

"I—I don't know, sir. I assumed—"

"You assumed9. I should—no, wait. Send him in and leave

us. I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

"As you wish, your Worship," the adept responded, then

bowed to the woman on the throne and left.

Poquah entered without disguise, looking as impassive as

ever. Nothing had ever seemed to disturb him, and he didn't

appear to understand the meaning of fear. He bowed to the

throne and to Kaladon. "I am Poquah, your Worships, formerly

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in the service of the late, sainted Ruddy gore."

Here we go, Joe thought, knowing every possible meaning

of fear.

"So you are Poquah," Kaladon responded. "I have heard a

lot about you. How did you enter this castle without permission?"

"But, your Worship;" I had permission," the Imir replied.

"Whose?"

The Imir pointed to the throne where Tiana sat, impassive

as the fairy. "Hers," he said.

Kaladon turned to look, and as he did, Tiana rose and started

toward him...

Then two Tianas were there, side by side, walking toward

him.

"Wha—what trick is this?" Kaladon screamed, and Poquah

watched the thin yellow band connecting him to the real Tiana.

Watched as it wavered, moved, and seemed unable to choose

between the two absolutely identical Goddesses.

The Imir struck. It was something that even Joe could see,

because he had the same relative abilities as Tiana at this point;

although, since his soul was different, he did not have her great

magical powers.

Tiana herself seemed to frown and rock to and fro. Kaladon

became suddenly concerned with reestablishing his umbilical

link, completely forgetting Poquah, who was rapidly rewriting

the magical script.

Once the link had been broken, even for a few seconds,

Poquah's opening had begun changing the rest of the pattern

that bound Tiana so tightly, so that Kaladon's link with the big

woman would not rehook to her. Instead it wavered, then attached

itself to the one pattern it could grab hold of—Joe.

Realizing his problem, Kaladon screamed and rushed headlong

into the Imir, bowling him over onto the floor.

Tiana shook her head as if to clear it and blinked several

times, as if awakening from a strange and terrible dream. She

looked around in complete confusion, then saw the two fighting

on the floor.

The yellow umbilical was attached to Joe, but it had no

pattern with which to mate and so it only tickled a little. Tiana

gazed very confusedly at him, gave a gasp at seeing herself,

but did not know what to do, so she just stood there. Joe quickly

moved around to the other side of her, in the process knocking

the yellow magic band away as if it were a cobweb.

The protective spells taught him by Boquillas worked well,

but the Imir was no match for Kaladon and was quickly brought

to heel. He lay there unconscious on the floor, and Kaladon

picked himself up, then looked with a snarl of satisfaction at

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the twin Goddesses before him. He stretched out his hand, and

from it flowed a pattern of yellows, greens, and reds, completely

covering one of them and freezing her into immobility,

while the other stared wide-eyed, then seemed to realize exactly

what was going on.

"First the impostor, then the Imir," Kaladon snarled. "Here

is the pattern. Do it! I command you!"

"She would if she could, usurper, but she is only a double

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of me!" the unbound Tiana on the left said. "But thank you

for the pattern!"

It shot out from her in blinding lights. Joe could only watch,

unable to move or do anything at all, but no help from him

was needed. Kaladon was trapped in the complex mass of colors

and textures. They held him, froze him, and bound him all at

once, and then they started slowly to constrict, ever slowly but

steadily, until the veins began to pop from his skin. Vessels

burst under the pressure, bathing the frozen man in his own

blood and continuing to contract until the pattern met, then

dissolved, leaving a gruesome mess on the rug.

As Kaladon died, the spells binding Joe seemed to snap and

then dissolve away. He could think and move once more and

he let out a loud sigh.

Poquah groaned, rolled over, and made his way to his feet.

Both Tianas just looked at him. Finally he got hold of himself,

glanced over at the pulpy mass and, for one of the very few

times in his life, he gave a slight grin. It quickly vanished when

he realized it, and he turned to the two large women standing

there.

"What is this all about?" Tiana wanted to know. "I do not

remember anything since I was forced into Kaladon's presence

..." She suddenly paused. "Oh, God! It was not a dream,

was it? This strange religion, all those people..."

The Imir nodded. "Not a dream. In fact, a more humane

version of the system might be just what Husaquahr needs. I'm

not at all sure that it can be properly dismantled with so many

on the Council in on it."

"Quite right, my friend," came a voice from the door, and

in walked Esmilio Boquillas. "The spells hold, for they are

Tiana's, not the late, unlamented Kaladon's, and she doesn't

even know how to undo them."

Tiana was confused. "What? Who?"

The other Tiana grinned a very uncharacteristic Tiana grin.

"I'm Joe, Tiana. This is a night with a full moon. Remember?"

She gasped. "Then that explains it! And you, sir?"

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Boquillas smiled and bowed. "Esmilio Boquillas, Count of

Marahbar, at your service."

"How'd you get here so quickly?" Joe asked him. "The

whole outer castle is guarded."

JACK L. CHALKER

251

Boquillas chuckled. "Poquah did it. You see, while I can

no longer cast spells, I can be the easy recipient of them. It

was a trifle. I had him cast several good spells on me for practice

weeks ago."

Marge entered from the back of the room, looking confused,

and stopped at the sights she saw.

Joe eased away from Tiana and over to a side where two

rapiers were mounted decoratively on the wall. Boquillas glanced

over at him and grinned. "Oh, you have guessed it. Yes, indeed,

my friends, we shall yet build perfection in this world. One of

those spells you used in freeing Tiana, my dear Imir, also

subjected her to my direction. Come! Come! Do not feel dejected!

The Dark Baron's plans come to fruition at last, that's

all. There is nothing you can do about it."

Joe took both rapiers from the wall and checked out the heft

and balance. "I think there is. Baron," he said in Tiana's sweetest

voice. "I think you should have been in this room rather

than assuming your scenario."

Boquillas' face clouded. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you'd better take this rapier, you bastard!

Poquah did no more than break the link before he was otherwise

engaged. He cast no spells on Tiana—she used Kaladon's

own!" He tossed the rapier to the man, who caught it deftly.

"Joe!" Tiana cried. "No! It is not necessary! With Poquah's

aid, there is no problem!"

"I can handle him without you," the Imir responded, and

Boquillas looked nervously at the two of them.

"No! This is necessary!" Joe told them. "Just get out of the

way, all of you! It's time for this murdering bastard to meet

his fate in the real world!"

Boquillas glanced over at the real Tiana. "If I order you to

fling the same spell on her—er, him—that you used on Kaladon,

I don't suppose you'd obey, would you?"

"Not a chance, old man," she responded.

He shrugged, raised the rapier in a salute, then leaped at

Joe.

Joe was fortunate that Tiana was about the same height as

he normally was and that her body was also trained as a swordswoman,

with the proper muscles and reflexes. Although he

had to remember to protect his chest a bit better, he had height

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DEMONS OF THE DANCING GODS

and reach on the older man, as well as youth. He also, unfortunately,

had six feet of flowing hair that threatened to trip him

up.

Boquillas was no slouch as a swordsman, either. In fact,

he was nearly brilliant, and they dueled back and forth across

the chamber with little effect to either combatant.

Ultimately, though, the Dark Baron's strategy held true, as

he forced Joe into a series of gymnastic moves that could not