Evidently so — 'What conspiracy?' Zane demanded.
'That I may not tell you,' the Magician said. 'How can I help you if I don't know what you want?'
'I have told you what I want. My daughter's salvation.'
'Some way you have to guarantee it!' Zane said, glancing meaningfully at the Love stone. 'Your daughter is obviously only a pretext for some more sinister scheme. What do you really want?'
The Magician stared at the floor for a moment as if considering. 'I want what every halfway decent man wants: the belief that his life has in some small or devious fashion benefited the cosmos. My use of black magic has so weighted my soul that my daughter had to assume a share of my evil in order to put me in technical balance. Now she, too, is in peril. But she should have time to redeem herself, if our ploy is successful.'
'She can take some of your evil?' Zane asked, surprised. 'I thought every soul had to be judged on its own merits.'
'It does, ordinarily. But sophisticated magic can alter cases, and this case has been altered. At the moment, both of us are in balance.'
Zane looked at Luna again. Her face was unlined and innocent. He was relieved to know that the evil in her soul was not truly hers; she was basically a good girl. He was well aware that physical beauty bore no certain relation to the condition of a person's soul, but he still felt more at ease when the two matched.
Now the girl leaned over her father. 'It is time. Father,' she said. 'I'll never know your equal.' She kissed him. Then she straightened up and faced Zane. 'Death, bring thy sting,' she said, and turned away.
Zane started his countdown timer again. He walked up to the Magician, who had abruptly settled into the final seizure, and drew out his soul. Quickly he folded it and put it away.
Still facing opposite, Luna spoke. 'My father made an agreement with you. I will honor it without the use of the Love stone. You will understand if I do not pretend any personal joy in the matter. Come this way.' She walked toward the doorway through which she had entered.
The Deathwatch was counting down for the next client, but Zane paused. 'You father, whom you professed to love deeply, has just died,' he said, shocked. 'How can you think of a thing like — like that — at this moment? Where is your grief?'
She halted, but did not face him. 'I can do what my father asked me to do because I respect his judgment above that of any other person. When I realized that his death was upon him, I invoked the enchantment he had prepared for this occasion. I put on a gem that eliminated incapacitating emotion. After you depart, I will remove that stone and suffer as much as I can stand before I have to don the gem again. My grief will run its course in measured stages. But my grief is not yours, and while I am with you, I shall not share it with you.'
Zane shook his head, appalled at this explanation. 'I don't claim to be a good man or a good Death. Mostly I have been satisfied to take what I can get. I was a fool not long ago and threw away my chance to love and marry a wonderful woman — '
'Fate arranged that loss, at my father's behest,' Luna said. 'You need feel no responsibility there.'
So that, too, had been no coincidence! Zane was shaken, but plowed on. 'Now I'm going to be a fool again. I have not done your father any genuine service I know of and, in any event, don't deserve the sort of attention you — '
Luna turned back to face him. She seemed prettier than ever. Her eyes were pearl as they fixed on his. No, she had not been bluffing about her ability to impress a man! 'Yes, you are correct, of course. You don't want false rapture. Use the Love stone; then my passion will be genuine. I should not have tried to avoid that. I will also, if you wish, use it on you, so that your reservations will dissipate.'
'That's not what I meant!' Zane exclaimed, embarrassed. 'I don't deserve the attention or the love of a woman like you. Keep the Love stone; I will not abuse your nature by using it. Maybe when I was a living man I would have done so, but now I am Death, with an important responsibility, and I must honor the dignity of the office as I perceive it. I will leave you to your grief.' He turned to the exit, half-cursing himself for his perversity. This was not typical behavior for him; why hadn't he simply taken the proffered payment?
'Why?' she asked. He could tell by the sound of her voice that she had turned again. They were both facing away, the dead Magician's body between them.
Zane himself wasn't sure. He had spoken of the dignity of his office — but not long ago he had tried to give up that office. 'I — look, I admit you're the kind of woman I like. The kind any man would like. You set out to impress me and you certainly did. You didn't seem like much when — when you weren't trying — well, right now I'm sure you're everything I might want, but — I guess it's what your father said. I want to make something good of my life, or of my office, while I still have the chance. Otherwise, what's the point? If I had been good before, I wouldn't have come to the point of death myself so soon. I'm trying to be good now, for what it's worth, so at least I can think of myself as halfway useful for something. To — to take advantage of you — especially at this time — I know that would — I did something like that once in life, and it remains a blot on my soul — well, it's just not the way I think someone as important as Death should be. So I'm going to try to play the part the way I think it should be played, even though I'm not — I know I'm not a worthy actor.'
'You are going counter to my father's wish,' she said. 'He scheduled his death to bring you here so you would meet me. Fate took that other woman from you so that you would be free for me. I am owed to you in a very real sense.'
'I have met you. I don't think you owe me anything for what Fate did. Maybe I'm on the rebound from that love I threw away before it started. Maybe I'm just angry at being managed. I think I would — I don't know. Maybe your father misjudged me.'
'Maybe he did,' she agreed. 'Still, I must acquit my own debts and try to honor his will. I would be false to my father's memory if I did otherwise. Would you settle for a date?'
'If I start seeing a woman of your quality, I'll soon want too much.'
'You can have too much.'
'I — no, I mean Death should not be distracted.'
'Then come when you're off duty.'
Zane felt guilty, but also sorely tempted, 'One time,' he agreed. 'One time.'
Nothing more was to be said. Zane opened the door, picked up his scythe, and went out to his horse.
He mounted. 'On to the next, steed,' he said.
The stallion leaped into the sky. Dawn was just arriving here, and a bank of clouds to the east was starting to glow. Mortis trotted over clouds as if they were sand, flying without wings, then plunged down through them somewhere on the day lit portion of the globe.
But it was not land below. The horse came down on the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. His feet touched and held; naturally this animal could run on water!
Ahead, the cloud cover dipped to intersect the water: a storm. The stallion galloped right at it. Zane viewed the lash-whipped waves with increasing alarm. The person who held the office of Death was immortal only as long as he was not killed. Suppose he drowned? The sea was becoming mountainous, the waves already surging higher than his head, and much higher nearer the storm.
'I don't like this,' he said. 'Who will replace me if I drown here?' That wasn't really his worry, however. He didn't care who next assumed the office; he didn't want to vacate it.
He didn't? Then why had he tried, so ineptly, to get his client to turn on him and kill him? What did he really want?
He wasn't sure, but suspected it related to some personal aspect. He could accept his own demise more readily if he deliberately handed the office to a chosen successor than if an inanimate ocean washed him out. It was control and self-esteem at the root of his disquiet.
A spot near the saddle horn blinked. Zane touched it — and the horse became a double-hulled speedboat, cutting through the fringe of the storm.
Wonders never ceased! 'You are some creature. Mortis!' Zane exclaimed.
But the waves were so horrendous that the craft was soon tilting precariously. The pale boat was steering itself aptly, to avoid being swamped, but the sea seemed determined to outmaneuver it.
'I prefer you as a horse!' Zane cried as the craft crested a pinnacle and tilted sickeningly forward. He punched the blinking button on its control panel.
The horse returned, galloping along the shifting contour of the wave. Yes, this was definitely better! The animal could not be swamped or overturned. 'I couldn't manage without you. Mortis,' Zane said, hanging on
