“I don’t need money,” I muttered. “You can’t stop hunger with gold.”
“I forgot to mention that if you accept the proposition, you will be taken anywhere you please. Or perhaps you simply don’t need money at all? You have enough emeralds in your bag to buy a small country, and the title to go with it. What else could you want? Or perhaps you do want something else? Tell me, and if it lies within the Master’s power, you shall have it. You must agree that’s a fair price. You can have anything you like, all you have to do is forget about the Rainbow Horn.”
“Immortality?” I blurted out at random.
“Immortality? Perhaps…” He gave me a suspicious glance.
“Who is the Master? Why doesn’t he want the Rainbow Horn to leave Hrad Spein?” I asked, deciding to stop beating about the bush and get down to basics.
“All right, we have plenty of time and the Master said I could answer a few questions. Not in a hurry to get anywhere, are you?”
The golden eyes glittered, but I didn’t bother to answer.
“My lord is the Master of this world. He created Siala from a shadow of the Primordial World, he is—”
“A Dancer in the Shadows!” I blurted out.
“Now I see that your question about immortality really was just a test. You have found out a great deal.… Unfortunately.”
A test? But I hadn’t been trying to test him. I’d just said it.
“Correct, thief. A very long time ago the Master was a Dancer in the Shadows and he created this world. I see you already know much more than we assumed. But that’s not surprising; after all, you’re a Dancer in the Shadows, too.”
I started.
“Don’t try to deny it, thief. You are a Dancer, otherwise I wouldn’t give you the time of day.”
“I don’t deny it.”
Well, I was no fool. Why would I put my head in the noose? If it was to my advantage to be a Dancer, then I’d be one. If he called me an ass, I wouldn’t have objected.
“All right then. You’re a Dancer, and that’s the only reason why you’re being offered a choice. There’s no point in killing you anyway: Until you reach one of the Great Houses, you’re immortal anyway. You’ve seen them, haven’t you?”
“Who?”
“The Master’s first children. The Fallen Ones.”
I realized he was talking about the bird-bears and I nodded.
“They were the firstborn, and the Master gave them powers almost equal to his own. They took this gift and tried to become the new Masters of the world. They decided to play the Game. So then the Fallen Ones were cast down and imprisoned in the heart of the Palaces of Bone.”
“I still haven’t heard what the Rainbow Horn has to do with all this.”
The Messenger sighed.
“The Master couldn’t destroy his firstborn, and he simply plunged them into sleep. But one not so very fine day the Second Race, those you are accustomed to calling ogres, accidentally awoke the evil slumbering in Hrad Spein. And that was when the ogres created the Rainbow Horn. It was created a lot earlier than is usually thought. The artifact restrained the Fallen Ones, it prevented them from escaping and taking possession of the primordial power of this world. All they could do then was wait for the chains to break. The Rainbow Horn was not made just to neutralize the Kronk-a-Mor, the primary magic: Its other purpose—not to let the Fallen Ones into Siala—was far more important. The ogres paid dearly for their curiosity. They created an artifact and saved the world, but the price was the death of their own race. That is why the creatures you call ogres are no more than animals now. In saving the world, they lost their reason and fell under the power of the primary magic. As long as the Rainbow Horn remains here, the Fallen Ones will not be able to escape into the world of Siala.”
“The Rainbow Horn hasn’t been in Hrad Spein for all that long. Not for all the thousands of years you’ve been talking about.”
“True. While it was with the elves, everything was well, and if not for a certain party opposed to the Master, nothing would have happened. But I’m not going to tell you everything. Just remember what happened when the Order tried to use the artifact to stop the Nameless One.”
“I remember that very well, the renegade magician said he was told what to do by the Master!”
“Are you blind, Harold? The Master has nothing to do with it. At least, not the Master of Siala.”
I was left with my jaw hanging open again.
“Surprised? Every world has its own Master, and the Dancers constantly play the Game. While one tries to save his own world, another tries to change it for the worse. The Game is the struggle to test a world’s right to life.”
“And whose plaything is the Nameless One?”
“It’s not good to know too much. So, what is your answer?”
“Your Master serves evil, Messenger!”
And that was when he laughed. It was jolly, genuine laughter. He laughed and he laughed, on and on without stopping. He laughed until the very echo was weary of repeating his laughter.
“What is evil, thief? Enlighten me! What is good? Who can determine what either of them is? Where is the elusive boundary between good and evil?”
“Your Master tried to kill me and my friends!”
“And that is evil?” he asked with a mocking chuckle. “So evil is different for everyone? If a man wants to kill you, that is evil. If the same man gives you a gold piece, saves your life, and kills someone else, is that good? Answer me, thief.”
I didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t really expecting an answer.
“An orc kills a woodcutter and, of course, from the viewpoint of the man’s family, a terrible evil has been committed. But from the viewpoint of the orc, his act was one of great goodness; he has saved the sacred trees from the depredations of man. You see, thief, evil becomes good and good becomes evil, as soon as you look at them from the opposite bank of the river of Life! They tried to kill you, but you were lucky, as lucky as the darkness! The Master started wondering who you really were after our dear Lafresa’s spell failed. And after you found your way into his house, survived my blow, and prevented the bonds of the Key from being broken, everything fell into place. A Dancer in the Shadows does not kill another Dancer.”
“Lafresa and her people seem to have forgotten about that, though.”
“She acts on her own responsibility. The Master did not have time to warn her.”
Or he didn’t want to. In any case, I didn’t believe a single word of the story about the Rainbow Horn.
“We’ve settled the matter of the attempts on your life. What else can you call evil?”
“The Master released the demons from the darkness.”
“What of it? You have no understanding of the Game; you cannot understand why the demons were needed. Or what part they will play in this story.”
“Then explain it to me!”
“Oh no, Harold! I promise that you will have good reason to remember the demons, and you will understand why the Master was right to release them and to bring the Horse of Shadows to Avendoom.”
“If he brought it, then why did he try to take it back in such a hurry?”
“The Horse had done its job, and another Master—”
“Are you trying to tell me there’s a whole crowd of Masters wandering around Siala?” I exclaimed, without realizing that I’d interrupted him.
“Oh come now! There is only one Master, but there is also the one who plays the Game.”
“Why does he do that?”
“Why? Such is the Game.”
“The Game?” I echoed.
“What are you so surprised about? Life is boring for those who create worlds, and sometimes they play Games. That’s all there is to it. And it’s not for you to go complaining about demons. As I recall, if not for a certain unknown scroll discovered by chance, they would still be scampering around Avendoom. You see, you also have taken part in the Game. And now it is continuing, and the Rainbow Horn is the trump card. The Master is trying to
