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…'

Вы читаете Horrors of the Dancing Gods
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