And The Devil Will Drag You Under (1979) (8 page)

Of course,
she
wouldn't have to, but she couldn't do the deed herself.

A pretty puzzle.

And time was running out, too-not only an hour every Zolkarian day, but she was now a walking time bomb in this culture who dared not even show herself in public.

The boy went out with some of the coins from the morning's work and returned with some homemade bread, mustard, and sliced meat. The stuff tasted awful, but they were all starving, and there was nothing left at the end of the meal.

Still, the first problem remained. Under the Holy Covenant, how could you gain something that the owner didn't want you to have?

Then, suddenly, she had the answer. "Of course!" she murmured, and snapped her fingers. "I really
do
feel dumb now, Shadow of the City, for not seeing it at the start. It's been right in front of us all along!"

He didn't understand; more, the fact that a woman had come up with something
he
didn't understand dis-turbed him.

"If I can get to the Holy Elder, speak to him even briefly, I can get the jewel," she told them confidently.

The boy seemed to brighten a bit. "But how are you gonna get to him? You had enough problems before-and now . . ." He let the thought trail off, but it was a good point. No matter how she ultimately solved the acquisition problem, she first had to get to the demon.

One at a time,
she thought. "The Holy Elder is also bound by the Holy Covenant, is he not?"

she pressed eagerly.

They both nodded. "Of course," the boy responded. "He is the only man completely without sin."

"Then my scheme will work," she responded con-fidently. "If only I can get inside that temple."

"Don't see how," the boy said glumly.

Wait a minute!
she thought suddenly.
Maybe I'm going at this too hard, making mountains
where they don't exist.
Study the Holy Covenant, the Holy Spirit had told her. The Covenant!

That was the key again. She looked at Shadow of the City.

"What is Mogart paying you for this?" she asked. His eyebrows rose. "Who?"

"My-ah, boss, I guess. The spirit. What's to be your reward?"

The boy sighed. "All the cubes of onyx in the cere-mony are to become gold," he told her. "But only when you get back with the jewel." He looked up at her, a strange expression on his face.

"Don't you see? With that much gold, I can buy my way into a trade and stay free!"

She nodded, considering that. She understood now what all this meant to him, and that he'd help no matter what. However, one final thing was still troubling her. "Shadow of the City? Why does the Great Spirit allow you to deal with and serve other spirits? I would think doing so would be against the rules."

He chuckled. "It would if we were doing anything crazy like selling our souls or doing acts for the spirits against the Holy Covenant. But we're not. We're just guides."

And that was true. The Holy Covenant was quite literal and specific, but it allowed for nothing outside the experience of its framer, be it the Holy Spirit or some alien, world-building University Department. Spirits just weren't in the script, so what he did was permissible.

She sighed. "It'll be dusk soon. That'll be the best time for me to act, I think. We're going to settle this whole business before the night is out."

"How are you gonna get into the temple?" the boy asked.

She smiled. "I'm going to climb those stairs out there and go up to that big wooden door and knock." She explained the rest to him, and he considered it.

"That just might work," he admitted. "So all we have to do is give you cover and protection until you get up there."

She nodded. "Then just go home. If I'm unsuccess-ful, you'll never see me again. If I succeed, I guarantee you I'll make certain you get your gold."

The girl, who had said absolutely nothing all day but had through the conversation of the other two figured out most of what was going to go on, sighed. "Nothin' to do but wait for dark." She then lay down on a small patch of grass and seemed to go to sleep. Both the boy and Jill McCulloch stared at her for a moment.

4

It was dusk. Already it was so dark in the alleyway that they could barely see one another, and they almost hurt themselves climbing over dimly seen junk and one another to reach the street.

The boy went first, peered around, then turned to Jill. "All right, let's go. Only a few people around."

She would have preferred none, but she took a deep breath, exhaled, and walked out into the street boldly and determinedly, walked across and into the little park, the children shadowing her at a slight distance.

Suddenly a man came into view, noticed her, and called, "Hello, there!"

That was a cue for the girl, who ran straight at the man and went into her full begging and pleading act.

Jill walked on as the girl's pleadings and the man's protestations rose behind her. She had reached the steps, dark and foreboding in the gathering gloom, and she started up, not even trying to think of how far it was to the torch that flickered near the door so far away. It seemed as if she climbed forever; she had no idea of the number of steps and once or twice had to rest a little and catch her breath, all the time cursing herself slightly under her breath for getting out of condition.

Just when it seemed she'd never make the top, sud-denly there she was, on a broad, flat porch in front of the heavy oaken door gilded with gold. She stood there a second, then turned one last time to look at the city and the park below. She couldn't make out much in the gloom, although the city itself shone with lights from thousands of dwellings. Definitely a big place. She hoped that the kids had made it home.

The die was cast now. There was no turning back. Either she had guessed correctly or she had had it.
Either way, here goes,
she thought determinedly, walked up to the door, and pounded on it with all her might. She pounded for quite some time, until she was afraid that there was no one in the temple itself to hear her, but she kept at it. Finally she heard the sound of something rattling on the other side. Quite suddenly and unexpectedly, a small block of wood was pulled out of the door to the side, just above her, revealing an eyehole.

"Daughter, by what right do you demand entrance to the most holy temple at this hour?" a gruff and angry voice asked.

"In the name of charity, mercy, and the Holy Spirit," she responded confidently. "I was directed here by the Holy Spirit himself, in a matter of great urgency for the Holy Elder involving the lives of countless people. I must gain entrance and an audience with him."

The man on the other side considered that. "His Holiness has audiences on Magdays. Come back then."

She wasn't to be easily put off. "This matter is of the greatest urgency, and the Holy Spirit himself di-rected me here. You know that what I say must be true by Holy Covenant. A matter of life and death for many people will not wait until Magday. I demand entrance!"

That's telling him!
she thought smugly. She felt better now, convinced that she was on the right track. But still the door remained shut.

She could hear others now, grumbling and calling in the interior as to what was the matter, and muffled replies from the man behind the door, but she couldn't make out the words. So glad to be on the offensive after feeling so long a helpless victim, she wasn't about to wait for the resolution of their argument.

"Have you, a keeper of the holy temple, so little regard for the Holy Covenant?" she shouted at the peephole. "Is it possible that even within the most holy temple there are those who lack charity, mercy, or compassion for others? If it be so, then may the Great Spirit strike you down now, for to live in a world without such things would be worse than death!"

That idea seemed to unnerve the man. "All right, all right, just hold on," he grumbled, and she could hear fumbling with latches. Suddenly the door swung open on well-oiled hinges with barely a sound, and a blast of cool air struck her and made her shiver.

A man stood there, dressed not in the robes of the common city dwellers but in a robe of the deepest red, gilt-edged with silver and gold, and wearing not san-dals but heavy professional boots. His head was cov-ered in a hood of the same material as the robe, making his face a dark mystery.

"Enter, daughter, and we'll see what we can do," said the man. His mysterious visage and the darkness and coolness beyond made her heart skip a beat, but she didn't let it show. She strode confidently into the chamber, head high, right up to the man.

He wasn't just big, he was huge. She had to crane her neck just to look into the hood, and that didn't help much. It was as if he wore a black mask.

"Now, then," he said in that gruff voice of his, "just what is all this about? What is your name, daughter, and the reason for such unwomanly behavior and dis-honorable nakedness?"

"My name is Jill McCulloch. I am from another world than that of Zolkar, and I come on a mission of mercy for my people that only the Holy Elder himself can help resolve. Every minute that I delay is a minute less for my people. I must see His Holiness as soon as possible!"

There was no reaction or expression from the hooded man for a moment, then he sighed. "All right. What you say is manifestly impossible and against all logic and reason, but the fact that you say it and in the name of the Holy Spirit tells me that it must be true. His Holiness is in meditations now; following this, I will convey to him what you have told me. Then it will be up to him to make the final decision. I can do no more." He turned. "Follow me," he said, and she had no choice but to follow.

Behind her, the great door shut apparently of its own volition, silent until it hit the latches but then booming and echoing around the interior. She regretted later that she was able to see nothing of the temple itself.

They went down dark, damp corridors dimly lit by small torches for quite a way. The temperature grew slightly colder as they descended some stairs and en-tered a small room. Inside was a straw cot, a tiny fireplace that put out little heat, and just about nothing else.

"Your word that you will wait here," the man insisted.

She nodded. "I will sit here until I see the Holy Elder," she replied defiantly and lay back on the cot. When the other had gone, she tried to make some sort of makeshift blanket out of her ample hair and exhaled loudly.

Well, I'm in,
she
thought to herself.
Now to go the rest of the way.

Despite the chill and the atmosphere of the place, the release of tension and the long day overcame her, and she drifted in spite of herself into a light sleep.

She was conscious, suddenly, of someone in the room and awoke with a start. A man stood there, dressed much as the other had been and also masked, but he was slightly smaller and had a higher voice. She noted that the fire was out and the small candle burned quite a bit lower than she had remembered. But she had no idea how long she had slept.

Some of her initial confidence had worn off, but she was still game. She wanted out of this crazy place, and soon-no matter what.

"His Holiness will see you," the man told her, then turned and walked out. The cold stone felt like ice but she quickly followed.

They descended further into the labyrinth of stone, and the lower they went the colder it became. She had no idea where they were going or what was at the other end, but she knew for a certainty that she would develop pneumonia if this kept up any longer.

Finally they reached a small door, and her guide stopped and knocked softly three times. For the first time Jill reflected on the absence of other people-they had passed none-and, just as interesting, the lack of even the remote sounds of other people.

The guide knocked again, whereupon they heard a muffled response which the red-garbed man took to be assent. He pulled open the door and entered, Jill fol-lowing, through a back antechamber and into a large room that was surprisingly different than anything she had seen in Zolkar. It was a large room, with a big roaring fireplace, woven rugs on the floor and also on the walls, and a great deal of comfortable-looking furniture, padded chairs and raised tables included.

It looked like a staid board room from her world; it was out of place here.

The guide mistook her amazement for ignorance. "You sit on those," he told her, pointing to red-upholstered chairs. "Choose one, sit in it, and wait."

She shrugged. It was warmer in here by far, although certainly cooler than she'd like, and she chose a large stuffed chair near the fire. She relaxed, feeling more normal and comfortable than she had in a long time, then turned to ask the guide how long the wait would be-and discovered that he had vanished. She was alone in the room.

She looked around. Or was she alone? It was a large place, and there was a lot of furniture and stuff here. She had the odd feeling that she was being examined.

Then from across the room, a door opened and a little man stepped through. He wore the same gilded robe and boots as the others, but his robe was the purest white, like white silk. He walked funny. Although his face, too, was hard to see, she knew, just from the size of the man and his gait, that this was, in fact, the man she wanted to see.

Study the Holy Covenant, the voice of the Holy Spirit had told her, and she had, and now here she was. Now if her plan would only continue to hold up!

The white-robed man approached and took a chair facing hers.

"Mogart sent you, of course," said the demon.

His statement caught her a little off guard, but she recovered quickly. His voice was the same as Mogart's, only different-a little softer, a little kinder, which was very good indeed.

She nodded to the demon. "Yes, he did."

"To steal my little gem," the Holy Elder said rather than asked.

"For the gem, yes," she admitted, "but not to steal it. For you to give it to me, freely and of your own will."

The demon chuckled. "Now,
why
on all the earths should I do that? He's been trying to get enough of the things to get himself off that miserable little exist-ence plane of yours for thousands of years. Got a few, too, in his time, but never got enough and never managed to keep them. He's a rogue and a scoundrel, my dear. Just to assuage his boredom, he has been the source of uncounted misery on your world-demonism, possession, devil worship-you name it and he's behind it. He has an incredibly powerful mind, more powerful than perhaps any other I have known-but it's crossed the border, crossed it millennia ago, that border between greatness and madness. No, my dear, I cannot think of any circumstances under which I would give you the gem-it is, after all, also
my
only way home to the University."