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Authors: Jack L. Chalker

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Fiction

Horrors of the Dancing Gods (31 page)

BOOK: Horrors of the Dancing Gods
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The dining area was nicely laid out, although by that hour of the morning it had been well picked over. Still, there was much to choose from: the pastries reminiscent of the finest of central Europe, along with juices, countless kinds of tea, and several varieties of coffee.

 

Joel Thebes was there, idly sipping some coffee and looking more deathly and white in the light of day than he had at night. There was a question as to whether he ever changed the white suit or if it was a part of him. It didn't seem dirty, anyway, which implied that he mostly had a lot of identical ill-fitting, rumpled outfits.

 

After the two Husaquahrians had gotten their own breakfasts and brought them over to the table, Thebes got down to business.

 

'The black bird has an incredible history both on Earth and here," he noted, sounding enthusiastic to tell it.

 

Neither of his listeners was like-minded enough to want to hear most of it. "Forget the legends. How'd it get
here?"
Irving asked him.

 

Thebes looked disappointed but sighed and said, "The Knights of Malta made dozens of exact replicas to fool everyone but decided that it was far too dangerous to leave in anyone's hands on Earth. Thus, in the year 1476 the head of the order took the original and wished it and himself to go to the place whence its original wood had been carved, and that, although he was not aware of it, was in this universe and on Yuggoth, in a small valley to the east of Mount Doom. It is of the stock of the original trees of Eden, you see, which is
why it is indestructible and how it gains much of its power. Well, of course, it didn't take very long for the Archbishop to realize where he was and sense all the snakes and such about, but he knew what to do. Using the bird, he created for it a haven there in which none but mortals consecrated of Earth and baptized in his faith would be able to approach and touch, move, or otherwise command the power of the bird. He made a place for it in the valley, and then he walked out of there and faced down the demon hordes attracted to his very presence. It is quite likely he went to his God shortly thereafter."

 

"So even Hell can't touch it?" Poquah said more than asked. "Interesting. And not just a mortal but an Earth mortal anointed by the rituals of his particular church is the only one who can touch or use it? Fascinating."

 

"Baptism," Irving told him. "A priest puts water on your head and blesses you. Some of 'em put your whole body under. This Archbishop dude—he was Roman Catholic, I bet. Almost everybody was back then in Europe.

 

"Yes, certainly, as was I once," Thebes admitted. "It was Dracul who saved Romania and Wallachia from the Ottoman Turks, after all, until he went too insane and decided everybody was a Turk. That saved the region for the Catholic Church, and so it remains to this day, as far as I know. Unfortunately, nobody knew of this step back on Earth, and so countless people spent centuries and fortunes and lives chasing the replicas all over the world, only to always be thwarted. Of course, not even Hell is absolutely certain that this story, too, is genuine and that the one they cannot touch is not a fake as well. I do not believe it is, though. I have now accounted for most of the fakes through history, and how was such a medieval man as the Archbishop able to get here and enforce these restrictions if it were not? The only question is whether he brought one or two fakes here with him as well. Still,
I
am convinced it is there."

 

Poquah considered the legend. "Then this is why Hell needs the likes of us. They can't enter or even see the blasted thing! Not even any of the sorcerers here could, since they were all Husaquahrian-born or are of this world and so lack the requisite baptism. So the question comes, Who is the one who can truly use this treasure if we can reach it?"

 

"Marge was raised Catholic. I know because she told me," Irving noted. "And so was my dad, after all."

 

Thebes looked at him with those bulletlike black eyes and frowned slightly. "But I do not think your Marge can be considered mortal at this point, nor, as I understand it, your father, either. And you were a mere small child."

 

Irving smiled. "But I was old enough, and I was baptized even if we weren't real good churchgoers. Mom was a Baptist, but I know I had a Catholic baptism. That used to be the joke. At one point she dated this minister who was M.E., and he had me baptized there, and at another point I got nearly drowned by the Baptist relatives. They always said if anybody went to Heaven in the family it'd be me, since I got baptized Catholic, A.M.E., and Baptist. Guess all I missed was her takin' up with a Muslim."

 

"That's it, then," Thebes commented. "You alone on this entire world can retrieve it, or so it would seem. Your father and your winged companion are outside chances but unlikely to qualify. It seems that all our efforts must be to get
you
to the bird."

 

"What about you?" Irving asked him. "I mean, you said you qualified, I think."

 

Thebes sighed. "Alas, I do not. You see, I had to sell my soul to get over here. It wasn't worth much, but it was all I had, and it broke any link to God I might have had, however slender. I am not truly mortal anymore myself, either. No, you are certainly it. And that means that you will be a very tempting target to those who would not want you to get anywhere near the thing."

 

Irving felt suddenly very uncomfortable. "Thanks a
lot." He wondered how much truth was in Thebes' story. Certainly the little man was dependent on them to get there, which indicated he couldn't make it on his own, and some of it hung together, but was it
all
the story? What would happen once he or somebody else who could see and remove it took it out of that valley or shrine? Anybody's game again? That was the way a
lot of those kinds of wishes worked.

 

This was going to be pretty damned hairy. If he didn't get it, the bad guys won, and he was going to be targeted by the invaders to stop him. Okay.
That
much he could take. But if he had the thing in his hands, he'd better wish himself out of there and safe—real, real quick—or everybody in creation was gonna be pouncing all over him.

 

"I am not certain that Joe or Marge couldn't do it under those restrictions," Poquah noted. "If they are absolute and as you stated them, then what is the point of Joe's earlier odyssey with his strange companion?
She
surely is born of Husaquahr and a proper halfling, so what made her stepfather believe that she could see and use the McGuffin? A fascinating puzzle, one of many in this affair without an answer. But tell me, since you seem to know everything else around here, have you heard of the nymph and the halfling? Do you know if they still live?"

 

Thebes looked around cautiously and then lowered his voice. "They got here, yes. The word is that they remained on their ship and got off at Innsmouth instead. Not a wonderful place to do it, but it is a very small fishing town surrounded by a fair amount of old-growth forest. Lots of fogs and mists, too. You don't want to meet the folks who live in the town, and certainly you won't stay for long around them, but if they made it the much shorter distance from the dock to the forest, well, a wood nymph would have some power there. There's some pretty mean fairies in these forests, but a nymph would be in her element. Word is that they made it at least that far and vanished into the interior. They were sighted here and there for a thousand kilometers, but there have been no sightings in the entire Mount Doom region and none anywhere else for quite a while. Odds are something's got 'em. Dead? Alive? Impossible to say."

 

"That is the first confirmation that they actually made it ashore whole," Poquah told him. "I am grateful just for that. However, I feel it is best if we depart as quickly as possible for the capital. I am anxious to get this over with, and with every delay and particularly every time we are stuck in one predictable spot, we are vulnerable. When can we leave?"

 

"In two days, certainly," Thebes assured them. 'There is a large party going our way leaving at midday two days from now, and we can certainly join it. It will be the easiest on paperwork and the most comfortable. By river sail, canal, and omnibus we might well be able to reach at least there in no more than two or three weeks."

 

Poquah nodded. "Get it rolling, then."

 

Irving frowned. He knew better than to tell the likes of Thebes that they had a map that could bypass all that and take them directly there. "Um, excuse me, but why do we still have to go
see
this king dude, anyway? From the way you talked, I figure you
got
to know where we have to go, so why waste time?"

 

"But I
don't
know, not exactly," the little man responded. "I can see how it might seem confusing, but that valley is not easily approached, and where inside it the bird might lie is even more of a puzzle. His Majesty knows. It is one of those things passed down from monarch to monarch. Without it we could tromp around in there for weeks and be vulnerable to attack. Besides, with his command, the second half of the journey will be easier. Even the invader can be influenced by him to a degree. No, it is
unthinkable
that we try this without him."

 

Irving shrugged. "Okay, okay, you're the boss for now. I take your word for it. Killin' two days in this creepy town won't be fun, though."

 

"Oh, it is not so terrible in the daytime," Thebes assured him. "You just have to watch your step, as in any big city. There is quite a lot to see, actually. Basilisk Park, the Miskatonic University branch library, the Carnival of Souls, the Illuminati Museum, the Phantom of the Opry, lots of things."

 

Literally
lots of things, Irving thought. "No, I think I'll stick close to the hotel. It seems pretty safe. It might be good, though, to visit some shops and pick up a
few spare things for the trip. We packed
awfully
light."

 

"Two blocks over to the right as you exit," Thebes told "Quite a lot of shops and specialty stores."

 

"I can exchange an ingot for some local currency," Poquah told him. "Perhaps, later, if she is up to it, you might wish to take your young lady with you. I do not think that the several white cotton dresses and those sandals will be sufficient."

 

Things were agreed on, then, and with handshakes all around—Joel Thebes had a shake like a limp, dead fish—they agreed to consult and meet regularly for dinner at the hotel and to prepare to go inland with the expedition in two days' time.

 

As Poquah and Irving walked up to the desk, the boy whispered, "You got
ingots?"

 

"Yes, of course. You never know when they are
useful. I carry them in a sorcerer's pouch. Do not worry. We will not lack for resources."

 

That was certainly clear when, at the cashier, Poquah produced a heretofore invisible leather purse of not very impressive size and reached into it. Although it wasn't much larger than his hand to the wrist, he pulled out a complete bar of unmistakable processed gold and put it on the counter, then made the purse vanish.
Good trick,
Irving thought approvingly.

 

The money for it
was
considerable, and Poquah peeled off several large bills and handed them to Irving. "Do not lose them or have them stolen from you," the Imir warned. "I am not going to budget for incompetence."

 

"I'll be careful," Irving assured him. He looked at the notes, which were all sorts of oddball denominations. Each one had a demon on its face and a scene from one of the circles of Hell on the back. "So what does the big prince get?" he asked Poquah. "A thousand?"

 

"Of course not. He's on one of the most common bills here—the three."

 

Irving fished one out and looked at it. "Looks like pictures of the angels in churches, only bigger and better," he remarked.

 

"Well, that's how he started out, anyway, and how he probably still sees himself. You never know. He may not be a god, but with that kind of power and those legions, he's about the closest thing you'll ever see to one."

 

Larae had not joined them for breakfast but was up and changed, sort of, when they got back. She was wearing a shorter dress, which hung on the hips and went to just be low the knees, but nothing else. She had a
very
nice figure, Irving noted, just as he had known she would.

 

"Does this bother you?" she asked them. "I couldn't manage the full dress, and this is quite traditional and casual in my homeland, although I know that not all cultures are comfortable with it. When this sort of temperature is normal all year, we feel there is no reason to hide ourselves in false modesty."

 

"N—no, it's fine with me," Irving responded. "After all, I just got this loincloth and stuff on. By all means be comfortable. I—I think they are shutting down the breakfast by now, but we might be able to get something if you want it."

 

"That is all right. I can wait. I have not had much of an appetite of late."

 

"I thought I'd go shopping, since we'll need to pick up some things, and if you want to come along, it's fine with me."

 

BOOK: Horrors of the Dancing Gods
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