A Logical Magician

5

With a curse, Roger Quinn slammed down the telephone. Life was bad enough these days serving a bloodthirsty demigod without having to deal with incompetent employees. Sometimes he wondered how the world continued to function as well as it did. He paused for a second, then decided he had answered his own question.

For years, he had known that most people were incredibly inept. Now, to his dismay, he was learning that the denizens of the supernatural plane were no better. If anything, considering the fact that they were creations of mankind’s dreams and desires, they performed even worse than their makers. Grinding his teeth in annoyance, Roger set off to find his master, the Crouching One, Lord of the Lions. He shuddered to think of the demigod’s reaction to the news. There would be hell to pay. Literally.

As usual, Roger found the Crouching One in the library, scanning another volume of the encyclopedia. The ancient god had an insatiable thirst for knowledge and could absorb information at an incredible rate. In the past month, it had gone through dozens of history and anthropology texts, and now was working its way through Roger’s reference shelf. Needing neither sleep nor food, the demigod spent all of its time reading or scheming to take over the world. It did not like being disturbed while involved in either activity.

Dressed conservatively in a dark wool suit, black tie and white shirt, the Lord of the Lions appeared to be nothing more than a distinguished elderly gentleman. It seemed remarkably unremarkable, until you saw its eyes. They glowed startling yellow with an inner fire. On its infrequent trips from the mansion, the demigod wore dark glasses.

“Yes?” it hissed, clearly not pleased by his presence. “What do you want?”

“The call came in from Chicago,” said Roger nervously. “They got the girl. And her father too.”

The demigod’s eyes blazed a little brighter. It nodded, looking pleased. “Exactly as I planned. I told you nothing could go wrong. The modern world cannot cope with ancient sorcery.”

The Crouching One waved one hand in dismissal. “Now, go, and leave me alone. I do not like being disturbed while I am reading.”

Licking his lips, Roger cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m afraid that wasn’t all the news.”

“What do you mean?” No mistaking the creature for human now. Its voice was like ice. “Tell me.”

“When the Border Redcaps broke into Merlin’s office, there was another person there. A human.”

“So?” said the Crouching One. “That was nothing surprising. You told me the magician was a seer. That he was meeting with a client is no concern of ours.”

Roger exhaled, his eyes gaze flickering around the room, trying to avoid the yellow glare of the demigod’s eyes. “At the time, the Redcaps thought the same thing. They knocked the man unconscious and left him there. They had specific orders not to kill anyone unless absolutely necessary.”

Blue flames crackled above the Lord of the Lions’s brow. “Enough wasting time. Get to the point.”

“The visitor never reported the attack to the police. Nothing unusual in that. Most people don’t like to get involved if they can avoid it. But, according to our spies, he questioned both the guard in the lobby and a news vendor outside the building about the Redcaps.” Roger’s voice cracked as he reached the point of no return. “And, we’ve since learned that he’s carrying a talisman of great power.”

“A talisman,” said the Crouching One, its voice a bare whisper. “The magician gave him an enchanted token. You are sure of this fact?”

Roger nodded glumly. “He’s displayed it four times already. We’re not sure exactly what it did, but each time it was used, the charm emitted a powerful burst of magic. Our sensitives recognized the discharge immediately.”

“A lone man, armed with a talisman,” said the Lord of the Lions, sounding curious. And slightly worried. “You think the old wizard summoned him to stop us?”

“I’m not the god here,” said Roger stiffly. “You’re the one who answers all the questions.” His tone left no doubt what he thought of that arrangement. “I do remember you telling me that every time a challenge to order arises, so does a champion of the status quo. This guy could be the opposition.”

“Quite possible,” said the Crouching One. “Did the Huntsman question the magician, or his daughter?”

“That’s not been possible,” said Roger. “They’ve been unconscious since their abduction. Despite all attempts to wake them, the pair have remained asleep. Von Bern suspects a reflexive spell, one that takes effect immediately on captivity. It prevents the prisoners from revealing any secrets. And, torture is singularly ineffective when the victim is comatose.”

“Bah,” grumbled the Lord of the Lions, sounding disgusted. “In my day, things were a lot easier. None of this sneaking around in the shadows nonsense. I was a god. My followers worshipped me. They treated me with respect. When I spoke, the world trembled. I was feared.”

“I know, I know,” said Roger, shaking his head. He was tired of listening to the demigod’s complaints. Over the past few weeks, the Lion God had repeated its catalog of woes hundreds of times. It took very little to start its complaining. No more virgin priestesses. No more blood sacrifices. No more holy wars. The list went on and on. God or not, the Crouching One was a colossal bore.

“Well, best that we assume the worst,” declared the Lord of the Lions. “I remember how all of us gods laughed at that character, Gilgamesh. What a pest he turned out to be. And then, of course, there was Moses. Nobody expected that sanctimonious busybody would cause such trouble.”

“Moses?” repeated Roger, his mouth open in astonishment. “You knew Moses?”

“All of the Immortals knew Moses,” said the Crouching One. “He was our bane—the first link in the chain of events that banished me and all those like me from the face of the Earth. Damned Hebrew was a lot more dangerous than he looked.”

The Lord of the Lions smiled its special smile, the smile that gave Roger the shakes every time he saw it. The catlike smile, ancient and mysterious, without a trace of humor—or humanity. “But now I am back, and I won’t be fooled so easily a second time. Not at all.”

Blue sparks flashed as the demigod rubbed its hands together. “Call back our allies in Chicago. Let them put out the word to all those who roam the night. This mortal champion must be found and destroyed. He must be crushed before he can interfere with our plans. I want him dead. Now.”

“They might not be able to locate him so easily,” said Roger, edging back to the door. When the Crouching One started playing with hellfire, it was time to leave. “And, if he’s this champion like you think, he might not be a pushover.”

“Perhaps,” said the Lord of the Lions. “Perhaps. But, he can be traced by the talisman in his possession. Von Bern will know how to do that at least. Night will soon fall in Chicago. The forces of darkness are strongest in the midnight hours. The German and his allies will not fail me.” The demigod clenched its hands into fists. “They dare not fail me.”

“Yes, sir,” said Roger, scurrying out of the room. “Yes, sir.”

He dashed for the telephone. For the moment, he was in the clear. Von Bern and his stooges had let this champion escape. He was their responsibility.

Roger shivered. Dealing with the Lord of the Lions always left him shaken. He had raised the entity by mistake and was stuck paying for his mistake. Only death could sever his ties with the evil demigod.

Like an echo, that thought reverberated through his mind. Carefully, analytically, Roger reviewed his conversation with the Crouching One. According to the basic principles of science, the final result of any operation was guaranteed if the initial conditions of the experiment were duplicated exactly.

Roger smiled. It was time for him to do some reading. About Moses.