Songs of the Dancing Gods

running away and contemplating suicide when Joe had picked her up as a hitchhiker on a lonely stretch of West Texas highway just before being picked up himself by Ruddy-gore. She had, in effect, unknowingly hitched a ride to Husaquahr, where she’d turned into what she was now: a Kauri, a flying fairy race with a rather unique function.

Like almost all members of the nymph family, the Kauri were natural, near compulsive seductresses, but, unlike most of the rest, who had some role in the management of one or another aspect of nature, the Kauri “weeded people” as they called it. Natural empaths, they could sense and were attracted to deep depression and other black moods in others, and, through seduction, they could take on and remove those heavy emotional loads, converting the energy into food. Because they had to absorb whatever came along, they tended to be the most intelligent of the nymph family, so Marge, in fact, had lost none of her memory or IQ; because part of their talents came in a sort of hypnotic hold over mortals, they could seem to look like any female the subject desired, so Marge had lost none of her personality and cunning. Like all nymphs, however, they were passive by nature, and rarely even able to defend themselves against an attack, although Marge had managed it, briefly, on one or two occasions. When you’re being grabbed by a rotting corpse, even instinct can sometimes be overcome.

And, alone among the nymph family, they could fly.

Joe told her about Ti, and what they had been asked to do.

She whistled. “Wow! That’s as mean a kick as this world’s thrown yet.”

“It’s like a pact with the devil, though,” he noted. “Don’t destroy the body and she’s still a slave but Sugasto wins. Destroy the body, and she’s lower than nothing forever. They’re not going to pull any more soul snatches with her even if they find out about her; being as she is would suit them just fine.”

’ “There’s still more, though, isn’t there? I can tell, remember. Your emotions are an open book here.”

“All right,” he sighed. “You alone would understand my problem. But I don’t want anyone else knowing, not even Ti.”

“My race always keeps its secrets.”

“Use your fairy sight. Look inside me, down to my soul, and look very hard for something unusual.”

“I can no more see a human soul than you can.”

“That’s what I mean. Look and don’t just see what you expect to see.”

She looked, and, for a moment, frowned, then saw it and gave a slight gasp. “You went fairy! I’ll be damned! Even the Lamp can’t change a fairy soul!”

He nodded. “So you have the package. Mum on that last part. Not only is it damned embarrassing to me, considering, but I don’t want any enemy finding it out and getting ideas. Silver, the right sorcery, and burning could do it. And,” he added hesitantly, “I particularly don’t want Irving to ever know, I just don’t think he could handle it.”

Marge sighed. “Man, you’re taking so much baggage on this trip you’re half whipped before you start! It’s a good thing I showed up when I did. No wonder you’ve been sending out those distress vibes!”

“Where we’re going to wind up it’s pretty cold,” he warned her. “You sure you’re up to that? You’ve never been in that kind of weather before.”

She shrugged. “We’re a hot race; plenty of warmth to spare. Just keep that dwarf-forged steel sword of yours away and I’ll be fine.”

“You really don’t have to go just for us, you know.”

“For you? Don’t forget, I’m the one who had that zombie horde sicced on me, and had to ignore that bastard’s sniggering laugh. It seems like we’re gonna have to endure that damned Baron to Judgment, but maybe we can send Sugasto straight to Hell!”

“Glad to have you as always. All we lack is Macore, but he’s off somewhere searching for Gilligan’s Island.”

“Oh, no! I always used to warn my students that TV could rot innocent minds, but I never really thought it went that far!” She paused. “Where’s Ti now?”

“In Terdiera with one of Santa’s elves getting together initial supplies and such for the trip. It’s going to be a long journey and much of it could be ugly. We don’t know what a Sugasto administration might be like, but I can guess.”

She nodded. “We’ve heard all sorts of rumors. A lot of bad fairy folk have gravitated to him, not to mention people, and he’s got a near lock on the dwarf kings, being able to blockade their trade if they don’t play ball with him, as well as gnomes, trolls, you name it. And, of course, he’s got two-thirds of the witches and warlocks in Creation with him and who knows how many overambitious magicians with real or imagined grudges. When a land comes under the control of evil here, it even takes on an evil life of its own. It’s in the Rules, I think. This won’t be any picnic, and you’re the only sword arm we’ve got.”

“Don’t you think I know it,” he told her. “Come on—I’m going to introduce Irving to Gorodo.”

“Oh, joy. He’ll just love that,” she responded, following him out.

Love, joy, awe, and all the other such descriptives did not begin to describe Irving’s first reaction to Gorodo. Abject terror, perhaps, was closest.

For one thing, someone who is nine feet tall, about five hundred pounds of pure muscle, and also has nine- inch fangs and a body covered with blue fur wasn’t exactly anybody’s idea of a teddy bear.

Joe was never sure just what Gorodo was; a member of the troll family, most likely, but in all his travels he’d never seen another like him. There were all sorts of stories about Ruddy-gore’s Master Armorer, most contradictory, all totally unbelievable, and all admitted to by the huge creature, but he remained the meanest, solidest enigma in Marquewood.

A long, taloned finger pointed at Joe. “You’ve really let yourself go to seed since I last had you,” the creature rumbled in a voice so deep it seemed to shake the ground. “You oughta let me get you back in real shape.”

Irving looked up at his father nervously and said, “I think maybe being a farmhand’s a real neat idea…”

“Nonsense!” the blue giant roared. “Ain’t nothin’ free in this world, boy, or the next, neither! No pain, no gain! But you stick with me a few months and really work at it and I’ll have you able to outrun and outfight anybody here. You stick with it, and there’s no place in Husaquahr you’ll fear to go and no enemy you won’t vanquish, and all the turd-wallowers will rum and wish they was you!”

“His bark’s worse than his bite, right?” Irving whispered hopefully.

“No, they’re about the same, son,” his father replied. “But he’s right. You’ve seen Ti. You want to be a male version of her?”

“Hell, no! Ain’t no way this boy’s gonna be no slave!”

“Well, there’s the only insurance you have right there. You know I’ve got to go away for a while, and why you can’t come with me. Imagine armies of him, only not on your side but out to get you. You want to be free and independent in this world, there’s the price of admission.”

“You plucked me outa Philly for this?”

Joe thought of the neighborhood, the gangs with their cocaine runners and needles and the rest, the number of potentially good kids living in squalor and dead in their teens, born and raised to lose. “Yes, son, I did.”

“Your father survived me and all I threw at him and came out a real man” Gorodo said. “Then he went out and eventually married a princess and took over an empire, then threw it away when he decided it wasn’t no fun anymore. That’s the kind of freedom I give, boy! The kind most folks only dream about. Lion or antelope, boy, there ain’t but two kinds. Be a turnip— that’s easy! Or be the one what eats turnips for lunch!”

“This,” Irving breathed, “ain’t gonna be no fun at all.”

CHAPTER 6 DON’T IT MAKE MY BROWN EYES BLUE