Horrors of the Dancing Gods

'How does the way get open?' Irving asked, genuinely curious.

'That we do not really know, but already there are nightly rituals in the structure. You must get in, and you must close the way as quickly and unobtrusively as possible.'

'Two others went before us,' Marge noted. 'They had an exact map with the location of the object that can close the way to the Ancient Ones. Did they not reach the valley or not get in, or was it that neither one could see it?'

'The companion could see it, halfling or not,' Mephistopheles replied. 'The key is half-human and mortal, and she is almost precisely that. She is also otherwise a total and complete cipher — to us, to them, to herself. They were in fact a complication, and we moved to stop them lest they get the McGuffin and not use it in the way it must be used. We missed. They got into their dominion and beyond ours. We know, however, that they did not get it, for the energy disruption would be easily monitored. The Grand McGuffin remains in its sanctuary. We assume, then, that they are either dead or have suffered an even worse fate at the hands of our mutual enemy.'

Poor Joe, Marge thought, then realized that Joe couldn't die. That meant that falling into the hands of whatever they were was almost dead certain. She almost would have preferred Joe dead. If they had the same kind of powers, or greater, that Hell had, then it might well come down to fighting Joe for the McGuffin — and Joe couldn't die.

'We will marshal our main forces and push through a hole that you can use to enter,' Mephistopheles told them. 'It will be a challenge, but so long as the Rules hold, we can do this — and so far, the Rules still command. A legion of Hell will ride before you, clearing a path straight to the wood, but it cannot enter. Once you are inside the valley, you will be entirely on your own. Use every power of magic and intellect that any of you possess; show no mercy, for they will show you none. Avoid contact with the enemy if you can — we shall keep the pressure on and thus keep their attention upon us for as long as we can. If your companions are caught and their lives or worse threatened, you must be willing to sacrifice them, since all else can be fixed but once the others come through, what difference will your friends' lives make?'

Marge sighed. 'We really don't have all that much. I can't see how we can hope to win.'

'All the signs, all the Rules, say that you are the only ones who might do it. Also, you will find them more deadly and repulsive than filled with strange powers. Their followers devolve; there is emotion and animalism within them more than sheer intellect, even though it is intellect that gets them hooked in the first place, a phenomenon with which I am very familiar myself. Avoid, however, the Dark Faerie who serve them, for they have such power. We do not believe that there are many of these, and they are at least subject to the same restrictions and vulnerabilities as those on your side.'

Irving considered that. 'Then are there iron weapons available here? In deference to these two, I've carried only bronze up to now.'

'It will be provided to you, but do not be overconfident with your iron. As it would have little effect on me, it may not work on the entity, depending on its true nature. Unlike its masters, when it emerged here, it was not of godlike strength and thus was bent to conform to the Rules. They must have known that and prepared for it, even come with some sort of template for serving their aims. The entity would have been energy alone in the Sea of Dreams but would have solidified here. As what we cannot say, but beware of putting too much faith on any one thing. Your best bet is secrecy, dedication, and the McGuffin.'

'Do you know exactly where the McGuffin is?' Poquah asked smoothly.

Mephistopheles was silent for a moment. Finally he said, 'No, but you do. You have the map from the thief?'

It wasn't an admonishment, merely a demonstration and reminder. They were not dealing with just another faerie creature here; this was a creature of Hell, of nearly godlike powers, as comfortable in his own dominion or here as on Earth. Although this was his traditional way of appearing to men, he must in reality have been something incredibly grand and powerful.

He read their thoughts, also child's play for such a one, and asked, 'Do you know the difference between monotheism and polytheism?' Nobody answered, and so he went on.

'Semantics,' he answered. 'One angel can slay an entire army or pick out only the firstborn of a nation. That which you read in the ancient books of the powers of angels is understated; they would be gods in any other pantheon under a chief god, just like Odin or Jupiter or Zeus.'

'Good point, I suppose,' Irving responded after a moment, feeling the power radiate from the strange monk but figuring he had little to lose. 'But if you're that powerful, why don't you go in and we'll stay back here.'

The others gasped at his nerve and impudence, but Mephistopheles wasn't at all disturbed, or at least didn't sound so. 'Quite correct. There are limits. Were there none, we would own you all and not have to work nearly so hard. We need each other. You need us to get you in there past a kind of power you cannot imagine. We need you to go the rest of the way. It is good to notice, however, who allies with whom here. Hell is at the side of human and faerie. You see none of Heaven here. A bit of war or pestilence or disease from us and everyone curses. But if Heaven commands Joshua to kill all the men, women, and children in three cities and bum them to the ground, it's 'praise God!' Our influence here is about the same as on Earth, no more, no less. Their influence would be absolute if they were allowed to materialize here. You'll see their minions. You'll see what this world will easily become under them. And Heaven is content to allow it to happen. Keep that in mind.'

Nobody wanted to argue theology with Mephistopheles under the best of circumstances and particularly not now. Instead, Marge asked, 'So when do we go?'

'The King has given his blessing. My own ruler has sanctioned the plan. The legion even now is being gathered and briefed. Do you wish to go in by day or by night?'

Now it was the military one among them, Poquah, who took over. 'Is there an advantage one way or the other?'

'Not really. We're not dealing with minor creatures like vampires and the like here. Some of the greatest accomplishments of Hell were achieved in bright sunshine. Likewise, they tend to a more normal sort of schedule, with heavy work and such during the day and then reduced activity at night, with little advantage one way or the other in overall powers.'

'Then we should go in near sunset,' the Imir told him. 'This will give us sufficient light to establish ourselves and set up a camp and some, cover if we have opportunities later.'

'So be it. Use today to try and shift yourselves a bit in schedule and prepare. Use tonight for practice. Tomorrow sleep most of the day and then awaken refreshed and prepared,' the demon instructed. 'We will insert you at the gate of the forest tomorrow at one hour before sunset. Meet me on the battlement here precisely at eighteen hundred tomorrow night. Let us end this matter, resolve this grave crisis, and quickly.'

There had been little discussion about what they should and should not bring. They had traveled light up to now, and even cooking would be risky once they were inside, so supplies would be mostly things that were dried or sealed and could be eaten cold or raw. Although the forest was fruit-bearing, there was little likelihood that a large workforce in there would have left much edible.

For Irving they secured a full and well-balanced sword of a nice iron alloy with a plain but quite solid hilt. He wasn't a master swordsman, it was true, but this weapon might well be just as effective handled crudely. Nothing that might withstand it or ward it off was going to be any less clumsy when it did.

For Larae they took a sling, since she claimed to be adept with one, and a spear of light but aerodynamic wood that ended in a serrated and polished stone tip that had been dipped in and coated with a paint high in the mineral magnetite. It would do the same damage, depending on where it struck, whether the object was mortal or faerie. Finally, she selected a sharp dagger that might well be thrown if it could not be plunged, again with an iron alloy blade.

Poquah could not handle the iron, but his own short sword, his bow and quiver, and a sharp boomeranglike device he called a jerun satisfied him as much as anything could. All those familiar with or flout Earth agreed that a nice submachine gun and grenades would be handy, but they weren't very common in those parts.

Marge took nothing, as always, and Thebes seemed more trustworthy without a weapon than with one and not all that much of an asset considering his cowardice in the face of the zombies. Still, he had begged to go,