Horrors of the Dancing Gods

LOOSE ENDS

"IS HE REALLY DEAD THIS TIME?^" MARGE ASKED MACORE, turning up her nose at the mass of charred and rotting flesh and limbs on the altar.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he is," the thief responded. "Of course, you never know about the likes of him or the Sea of Dreams. If enough people start believing in him, he may be impossible to kill completely. On the other hand, what's the difference? You got to figure that he's stuck in the Sea of Dreams, and there's gonna be nobody else there but lots of superpowerful godlike beings all of whom received a bill of goods by him and then got double-crossed. I think if he does survive in some form, he'll quickly be nostalgic for the old lake-of-eternal-fire business. Out of our hair for good, anyway."

Marge kissed him. "But how in the world did you manage to turn up here just in the nick of time, and with an iron-based sword?"

He shrugged. "I was late. What can I say? I got hung up, and everybody started doing things before I figured. Next time warn me and I won't oversleep."

"That's not what I mean! Why and how are you here in the first place?"

"Oh, I've always been fairly close. I told you I have a lot of contracts and old debts down here. I came across on the same ship you did. Had one hell of a time staying out of sight"

"Then that was you!" Poquah breathed. "So!"

Macore nodded. "You're getting to be too much a creature of habit, Poquah. I read you like a book then. In fact, I got so confident, I even decided I could risk briefing Junior there so long as he didn't realize it was me. I spotted the girl in my disguise as a minor demon and figured she'd be a hell of a lot better off with you."

"That explains it! I thought he was being warned off!" Marge exclaimed.

"I had to give that impression, but I knew no son of Joe's would leave a pretty damsel in distress. Something in the Rules about that, I think. Besides, I did want you all to know the situation with her before you made your decision." He drew a deep breath and continued.

"Anyway, after that I was able to stick pretty close for a while, but Ruddygore decided that you were going on the straightforward path and drawing all the attention, see. That let me get here direct while you all went off to Castle Rock. Man! That was some show punching you all through! Seeing you come in like a rocket from Hell guarded by its legions was the height of absurdity. Damn near split my gut."

"Very funny, We were walking into this bastard's trap, and you were laughing," Marge grumped.

"Awwww… It's not all that bad. I figured, he, wasn't out to kill you. He coulda done that anytime, and he was clearly out for revenge instead. So long as you were alive, we could always fix what was wrong later."

"Fix! What…?"

"The McGuffin, of course. I stole it maybe four, five days ago. Those two never even knew. Neither did Boquillas. I'll tell you how I did it sometime, if I don't write my memoirs. Damn! I'm still good!"

"You stole the McGuffin three days before we got here?" Even Irving was appalled. "And we did all this for nothing?"

"Not for nothing, certainly. I wish I coulda been here early enough to have seen old Joel's face when he found out I'd switched birds, though." He dropped the smile and got serious. "Look, it's more complicated than you think. The McGuffin has great power, but it has really strong limits. You can feel that evil vortex yet, can't you? Ruddygore still hasn't completely got it closed. It's kind of nasty, since everything you do with it also has all sorts of other consequences. It has a kind of ruthless logic to it."

"But he'll get it closed, right?"

"Sure he will. And he'll get us out of here, too. He got me back here with the swords and all sorts of stuff." He paused. "Look, we also wanted Boquillas, which is trickier than you might expect. You can't kill with that thing, for one example._, So, dealing with the Baron, maybe once and for all, was a priority. Second was Joe and her friend. Without Boquillas out of the way, we couldn't get 'em completely out of the Baron's clutches, I told you, it's complicated, but it'll work out."

"So what do we do until he does work it out? We're still surrounded by a nasty enemy throughout this forest, we've got virtually no supplies, and there's little left to protect us. Not to mention that both Joe and his friend there are gonna give us little Boquillases any time now."

Macore shrugged. "I only take orders. But I know we'll be protected if we stick around here, and I have some supplies for a couple of days. Maybe we can just start renewing a few old ties, huh? Ruddygore's not gonna leave us in the lurch. Not now."

A lot of sorcery and spells had flown around in those minutes, particularly the last ones, as they discovered when they all tried to relax and get their bearings during the day and evening that followed. The worst thing in fact was keeping Macore from telling or, worse, singing the entire saga of Gilligan's Island to them.

Irving found that his power, his spells, seemed to have vanished completely. He was certain that something else had changed about him, even though the others couldn't see anything and he couldn't put his finger on it. There had been an initial blast from Boquillas, and it had certainly done something.

Larae had been changed the most, although again it had only exaggerated what was already there. She really couldn't figure out what she was going to do now. "In effect, I am a halfling, like her, now," she noted, pointing to Alvi. "The thing is, I don't really mind it, not anymore. I talked to her a little, and she had gotten to that same point, what with playacting for a long time, then getting sick of pretending and just being whatever she was. I am tired of it, too. It is just — God! I am getting turned on, and this time I can really feel it! That is my tragedy, Irving, in the end. I am in love with you. Very much so. Enough so that I can understand why you cannot feel the same about me."

He sighed. "When I watched you go after that idol, to risk that much, swing out, hanging by your feet, and snag that thing, couldn't begin to tell you what I felt. Truth is, I do love you, but it's got to be what they call star-crossed lovers. I want you, but I need Marge — or, rather, what Marge used to be. I don't think she'd be real good for me anymore as she is. If you can get by that, I can get by the rest. Deal?"

"Deal. But I am not going to pretend anymore to be what I am not. Whatever I am, I am."

He sighed. "Well, maybe Ruddygore can straighten it out"

"What about your dad?"

"That's a lot harder for either of us to get by," Irving admitted. "I think I want old Santa Claus around before I deal with it too much."

Marge was catching up on things with Joe.

"They caught us very near this spot," Joe told her. "We'd come through some really mean spots and gotten out of some desperate times, particularly running low on food, water, and anything to buy, but we made it, or so we thought. Did it the hard way, vamping a little, doing a few odd jobs making some sick plants well, that kind of thing. But once here, boom! Right into Boquillas, who was so beside himself, it was pitiful. He told me what he was going to do, how he was going to lure you all here, all the stuff.

And then he changed us to what you see, literally half plants, rooted us, and raped us both repeatedly while leaving us on guard with compulsions to stop anybody from trying anything. We completely lost track of everything, I have to tell you. I don't know how long we've been here or anything else." She looked at Marge. "You haven't stayed a good girl, either, I see."

"Nope. And I don't know if it's the condition or what, but I don't care. That's the amazing part. I really don't mind. Until this last business I've had more fun like this than I ever had as a Kauri."

"But you seduce and enslave men and eventually consume their souls."

She shrugged. "Well, there's a downside to everything, I guess. The thing is, there's a ton of bums out there who deserve it. You know. Believe me, you know. Most any native on this continent is fair game, and a fair number elsewhere. The difference between me and a born Succubus is that I came from somewhere and something else, and I remember it. I liked the Kauri well enough, but they were so one-dimensional, so goody two-shoes, their lives so regimented and controlled, I was losing myself, my identity. This brought if back. I've got to tell you, I need it and if I don't control it, I'll flip out and take it, so that's something I got to watch out for, but so long as I get my priorities and targets straight, I think I can handle this and not hurt anybody who doesn't deserve hurting. The vampire who only sucks blood from the bad guys, that kind of thing. I'm not on automatic like the others, so what happens from this point's on my account."

"I hope you can handle it as easily as you say," Joe told her.

"What about you? What will you do when you get uprooted?"

Joe sighed. "I don't know. I see Irving, and I want_, to be Conan the Barbarian all over again. Poor kid — he's got worse shit than I ever dreamed. His girlfriend's a guy, and his daddy's a woman. How the hell has he turned out as good as he has?"

Marge nodded. "Sure would make a great Donahue."

It was suddenly different. The change was so dramatic that it woke several of them up, yet there wasn't anything obvious that had changed. No great sounds had been shut off, no brilliant flares had illuminated them, no eruptions or fires. But… something.

"The vortex is gone," Poquah said at last. "They have closed it down and sealed it off."

"Yeah, and look!" Irving said, pointing to the old altar stone. "No remains!"

It was true. Every last chunk of the final stage of Esmilio Boquillas had gone as well.

Still, it was Marge who summed up the situation. "What a strange, strange adventure this has been! And now, at the end of it, evil has triumphed over evil! Ain't that one for the Book of Rules!"

A few hours later, emerging from the woods on a great sedan chair borne by four huge stonelike creatures, came Throckmorton P. Ruddygore in full evening dress, top hat, spats, and cane.

"Well, well, well!" he said, brightening at the sight. "So all's well that ends well, eh?"

"Too deep a subject for me, and too many wells," Marge snapped. "Hello, Ruddygore. You surprised at my condition?"

"Oh, my, no! I assumed it would happen. Thought it might be useful. Would you like to be changed back?"

"Talk to you later," she told him. "For now, let's hang loose and stay where we are."

His eyebrows didn't go up even at that. "Very well. Ah! Down, boys! Easy, please. Ah! Thank you."

They lowered the chair to ground level, and he emerged, the triumphant victor as usual.

"You don't have the black bird," Irving noted.

"Don't need it," he responded. "I'm wired in, as it were, at least for a while and at a certain level. Don't worry — the only problems that might result from this are mine if I blow the kind of wish spells it is capable of doing. Right now the real thing is sitting in the middle of the damnedest sports field I have ever seen but very, very safe, I assure you."

"Maybe. Where's Joel Thebes?"

"He lit out this morning," Lame told him.

Irving wasn't reassured by that. "Are you sure he can't get to that bird? That's all his life means to him."

"I am not so certain of that," Larae told him. "He went off this morning muttering something about the 'one ring over all, one ring to bind them,' if you know what that means."

"I think I do," the sorcerer told her. "Well, he's already in the right place for something related to it, anyway," he noted. "I just hope he has all his forgers. Now, tell me the truth — what can I do for the two of you?"

"You mean Larae isn't obvious?" Irving asked him.

"Um, yes, I see what you mean. Hmmm. Fascinating math on that spell. Makes me dizzy trying to follow it. No, there's not much I can do about that. It's worse than a djinn spell! My word! That's precisely what we were so worried about if they got through and why it took so long for an object of our universe to close up an opening to theirs."

"You mean you can't do anything?' Irving was suddenly so crushed that he was close to tears.

"Not what you are thinking, no," the sorcerer responded. "The whole thing is so complex that it would probably kill her at best. About the only thing I can do is some of the superficial stuff. Give you, poor girl, a look closer to your original self and ease the restrictions."

"I'd like that if Irving doesn't mind," Larae told him. "This is — impressive — but it just isn't me."

"No, no, I like the original fine," Irving assured her.

'Well, I'll see to that much, and you are certainly welcome at Terindell. There are many resources there, and perhaps one day we can find something your demon covets more than keeping that curse on you. In the meantime I'll help as best I can. Excuse me, now, though. I must see the prodigal."

"Um — Ruddygore?" Irving said hesitantly.

"Yes, Irving?"

"I been thinking — a lot. About a way around this. It's — hard on me. Gives me the willies, but I figure you can fix that. But I decided that if there was no way for Larae to become fully a girl again, then maybe the one thing Boquillas threatened to do really is the best thing. Leave me just like I am, but down here give me what she should have. That way we'd at least be able to do things right."

Ruddygore thought about it. "That is a big decision to make, Irving, and it is not one I am inclined to go along with now, with you at sixteen years old and in a certain stage of emotional development. While complex, though, it is not something that requires the McGuffin to do — obviously. So I am going to refuse it for now in your own interest — in both of your interests, really. If, over time, this proves to be the best or even the only solution and you still want it, then we might look at it again, but I am not inclined to grant it right now. You are close and good friends and companions now. Stay that way. Let us see where it leads."

Irving had taken such a leap with the offer that being turned down was as much letdown as relief. Still, what could he do?

As Ruddygore left them to go over to Joe, who couldn't exactly travel much in her situation, Larae just stared at Irving and tears flowed from her eyes. She wasn't sure that she wanted Irving to do that, either, but the idea that he'd think of that and ask for it locked her love in stone.

Ruddygore was much less pleased by the request but decided to talk it out with Joe. First, though, the sorcerer examined the delicate condition of the two half plants.

"Oh, my! Well, we'll certainly ensure that this doesn't hatch! Even without it, though, you're pretty well planted, aren't you?"

"You said it." Joe looked over at Irving and Larae. "Can you help them?"

"Not like they and I and certainly you would want it," Ruddygore admitted. "I can't really help her situation without killing her. Do you know he asked for the reverse to be done to him so they could be a true couple?"

Joe was aghast. "And did you say yes?"

"No, I refused. Sixteen-year-olds shouldn't be allowed to castrate themselves on the second date. But if this goes a year or two or more and he wants it even more, it will be difficult not to do it. In the meantime I can ease it a little for him. From almost, oh, right now, he will no longer mind her situation. It will still be there and a barrier, but he will no longer have that hang-up about it, period."

"Oh, boy! There go the grandkids," Joe commented. "Still, I'd love to see his mother's face if she knew about this! It would almost—not quite but almost—be worth it!"

"You never know. I'm not making him prefer boys unless he normally would anyway. All I'm doing is allowing him to accept a situation and live with it comfortably without harm and getting the most from it. He'll still like girls, and if he finally finds one that's all female, well, you never know. If they really are an enduring love match, though, you might still get the grandchildren at some point — Only he might not be the father but the mother."

"That's not helping my thoughts about that."

"Well, then, think about something else. What do you want for you?"

"I didn't know I had much choice. I'd like to get uprooted, that's for sure."

"That's not a problem. Or, rather, it actually is a problem but not one we won't be able to solve. I may have to rotate both of you in planters to Terindell for a few weeks so I can solve some of that tricky math. Maybe run it through the supercomputer over on Earth just to ensure we don't have any traps there. But what then?"

'What are my options?"

"The McGuffin is pretty limited in some areas. I can't make you mortal again, but within faeriedom, as it were, I can run a whole range of choices, male and female, type after type. There is only one problem with that."

"Yeah?"

"If you are no longer a wood nymph, you will lose your connection to the Tree of Life, You will, in other words, become not exactly mortal but able to be killed for good as we did with our old friend here. And iron will kill."

"Hmmm… Makes it kind of tough, doesn't it? But it's no more risk than I used to have. Well, I'm not gonna get unpotted for a while, right? So I got some time to decide,"

"That is certainly true. And what of your companion here? I have been unable to identify her father or find out the slightest thing about her."

"Not even where she was born and raised? I thought that would be pretty easy to find."

"Joe, there is no such place. Not in Husaquahr, anyway. And those soldiers who have been after her don't seem to match anything known. I can say this after examining her, even from this distance: I don't think she's a halfling at all. I think that everything we see is a disguise, even her memories."

"What! You mean she's hiding out and on the run and she is already disguised like that? Who would disguise somebody like that? And why would she keep it up, even with us both planted here?"

"Oh, what you see is what you get," Ruddygore assured Joe. "She fully believes in Alvi and in this reality. I'm just saying it's not real. Someone with a very odd way of thinking and a true fear of discovery constructed this whole business to hide whatever's obscured beneath all this. As you say, none of it makes the least bit of sense."

"Her father, or stepfather, or whatever drove her here with the map in hopes that the McGuffin could change her into a normal girl."

"True, and it could, but if, it did, whatever is being hidden would be doubly so — and, so hidden, it may never come out."

"But what's the use of hiding something if it can never come out?' Joe wondered.

"Interesting concept, isn't it? I can think of several ideas. One is a resource — something valuable, perhaps information, hidden until and unless needed but so dangerous or treacherous that if it is not needed, it is better never to know. That would explain the interest in her from all over. Another is a timed situation — something, whether it's knowledge or a transformation or a situation or whatever, that will lay dormant and unknown until a date and time or certain condition, after which it will emerge regardless of the form. Other related concepts come equally to mind. We'll work on it."

"But for now you don't want to change her," Joe noted.

"No. I'd like to try and see if I can discover what is hidden. The danger is that others now know what she looks like, and she is extremely difficult to miss or mistake. We may be able to deal with that as illusion."

"Wait a minute! Then what you're saying is that except for me and a little attitude adjustment for the kid, nobody is asking anything from the bird? That we're all gonna wind up pretty much as we are now, give or take a bit?"

"I'm beginning to suspect exactly that," Ruddygore admitted. "However, look on the bright side. We defeated the, great evil once again, we kept the alternate evil from coming through, we've put excitement back in both your life and Marge's, rescued — somewhat — a damsel in deep distress and found her a protector, given Irving somebody to go slay dragons with or whatever he winds up doing, and we really leave only one loose end: your friend there. That's not all that bad."

"Maybe not, but it's not one, it's two. When I headed for Macore's, I found myself in a fantasy ghost town of sorts facing a weird creature in disguise who said they knew who I was and would follow my progress. All I can remember is a weird kind of Hopi getup and a fake Irish brogue a mile wide and an inch deep. I never saw him again, but I don't know who or what that was, either."

"Oh, I think I can explain that one. That was Esmilio. More than anything he wanted you, both for primary revenge and as bait for your son and the others. Sure, you were helping the girl, but he couldn't be certain that you would actually commit to Yuggoth for the sake of a baffling girl he, too, knew nothing about. So he simply baited the hook a bit sweeter so that you would be too intrigued not to come. With all this crud flooding the world, it was easy enough to send that vision right to you."

"I hope you're right. I'd hate to think that some little twerp in a mask and blanket and lousy accent was gonna pop up later and tweak my nose again."

"Anything's possible, but I would be very surprised. So, back on track now, anyway, eh?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Ruddygore sighed and looked at the nymph. "Joe, I don't want to influence you in any way, but what I offer is a onetime thing. The McGuffin is not going to be destroyed or sent out of reach — I've learned my lesson on that—but it will be put away in a very, very secure place that even I will not be able to reach on my own. Choose right for yourself. Not for what you think may be right for Irving. The boy's sixteen now, and he's already gone without you. He'd have been happy with you just the way you are, I assure you. You can have any choice you wish that we can grant, but make it the right one for yourself."

Joe sighed. "Well, we'll see, won't we?"

"Indeed we will. For, of course, we have left a major loose end, and the Rules are very specific on that sort of thing. Volume 17, one of the early ones, page 141, section 32(e).

"A saga is not truly or properly ended if even one major loose end remains unresolved."

"Oh, boy!" Joe sighed. "Here we go again…"