Songs of the Dancing Gods

good, and we don’t have your iron wrapped, the money secure, and all the rest of the junk ready to go, and she gets here, we’re gonna fail her.”

“Good point,” he admitted, and started work.

“You aren’t even worried about her?”

“Worried sick,” he admitted. “But if she wasn’t my slave but my partner and equal, a mercenary or Amazon or something like that, I wouldn’t have hesitated and you wouldn’t have anguished about it.”

“Yeah, okay. You handle the sword, remember. And wrap it securely.”

He nodded. “I’ll do the iron first. The rest I’ll let you get to, since I want to go down and settle the bill.”

“Holy cats! You’re gonna pay this dump?”

“Sure. I don’t want any blemishes on the record. And if they know we intend to set out before dawn, they won’t wonder why they never saw us leave.”

“Well, I just hope your pegasus can carry everything. Us, too. We’re great for sprinting and medium flights, but these wings won’t match the kind a flying horse would have.”

“The guy I saw flying the thing looked about average. What’s a Kauri weigh, anyway?”

“Dunno. Haven’t had to worry about a scale in years now. Fairy construction is very different from human, though. I’d say forty pounds, give or take. Just a wild guess. Still, it means not having to worry about straps and seat belts.”

“Easily within limits, even with this stuff.” He picked up the newly bought hafiid, then tossed it. “Won’t have to worry about that, thanks to Sugasto. I wish we had a decent magician along, though. I’d love to know if he added anything nasty to that spell.”

“I can read some of it,” she told him, packing away. “Hey— you better take care of that bill now, or you’re either gonna have to fly it down or she’s gonna have to carry somebody the size of the manager.”

“Good point,” he admitted, took out some money, and left the room.

For Mia, the waiting was the worst part. Not because it was so boring in and of itself, but because she had nothing to do but think. Why had he kissed her like that? Why had he kissed her at all, let alone with such—such passion. They had made love, yes, but when they thought themselves married, it had been fun but, well, ordinary. And the last time, it was an act of kindness, she knew, to help her forget her shearing. This one kiss had been different, almost, well, electric. It had been hours now, and she still felt tingly and turned on. It wasn’t the sort of thing that could be so convincingly faked—well, after living with him for months now, it wasn’t something he could fake, she knew.

It couldn’t be physical. The shearing and the removal of all adornments made her looked like an eleven- year-old eunuch.

She was finally snapped out of her confused thoughts by the appearance of a large red-bearded man in furs and horned helmet coming toward the pegasus. The man looked particularly odd because it was still fairly warm out, and he had to be sweltering in that outfit. The reason for his garb was apparent when he went to the shed and started assembling the gear and taking it over to the pegasus.

He’s going to fly off! Too soon! Too soon! she thought, disappointed beyond words. This was all for nothing, just folly.

A soldier approached the man, saluted, and said, “Are you certain you want to risk it? You might not make it until after dark, and you know how bad the pegasus’ night vision is.”

She hadn’t thought of that, either!

“Oh, ya, ya. No problem,” the fur-clad man responded. “Ve only go little ways. Besides, is still full moon.”

And, sure enough, he prepared to go. She watched with a mixture of sunken heart and total failure as the man created his strange saddle, strapped in, rode the pegasus, albeit uncomfortably, as a horse out to the main road, checked something—the wind, she realized, seeing a flag on the shed—waited, then kicked the steed into a gallop, going faster and faster down the road, and, suddenly, those great wings just spread out and the flying horse lifted, flapped a number of times, gained altitude, and then picked a direction and was off. The soldier, too, watched him go, then shut up the shed and secured it, then walked off.

Now what? she wondered to herself, looking around. The sun was very low on the horizon, the shadows long, but it had not yet set, and she would have close to an hour of darkness before moonrise. Some cover, yes, but there were a lot of people—and others—around. Where to go?

Even if she could evade these soldiers and make the front gate, it would matter little. It wasn’t so much the distance, as taking total pot luck on what she’d become. A horse wouldn’t do—it would be considered a stray or runaway and kept there, maybe tied up. She had thought soldier or Bentar, but now she remembered Sugasto’s spell. The were curse usually didn’t affect spells, which was why the ring remained. Sugasto had said that she not only didn’t need to wear clothes, she couldn’t. A naked soldier of whatever race, particularly with a ring in his nose, wouldn’t be much of an improvement over now.

It had seemed so simple a few hours earlier. A lot had somehow seemed so simple a few hours earlier.

What around here could she become that would both allow her to escape this place and also be of some use? She had to find it fast, if it was here at all. The sun was setting, and the moon would surely follow. Not even a Sugasto could change that.

Joe and Marge both knew they’d have to allow some time after moonrise for Mia to make her escape, if, in fact, she had been successful.

Joe, once more a Kauri, waited with Marge for something, anything to appear.

“If she pulled it off, great,” Joe said worriedly. “But, right now, I’d just settle for her getting back here as anything.” He went over and stared out the window into the darkness.

Suddenly this huge face descended as if on a lift until it covered the entire window. Leathery nostrils flared, and two mean black eyes peered out from a skull that seemed made of molten rock.

Having no place to flee, Joe stepped back suddenly and did what he probably would have done even as Joe. He screamed.

Marge, literally on the back wall of the room, got hold of herself and looked at the monstrous face of the nazga.

“Hold it, Joe!” she shouted. “That damned thing’s got a tiny little ring between the nostrils!”

CHAPTER 10 THE ROAD TO HYPBOREYA

When great quests slow and threaten to bore, something will always come along to speed it up. This is not to guarantee a successful or even more rapid end, but certainly a more interesting journey.

—The Books of Rules, XV, 251(d)

The eerily lit landscape sped by below with steady and impressive speed and power; huge, leathery wings beat in slow, steady rhythm like the drums of an oarsman. On the back of the creature, two small reddish figures reclined facing each other.

“Well, you’ve got to admit, there’s plenty of room for our gear and us with no weight problems,” Joe noted. “It hardly feels as if we’re even moving.”

“I feel like I’m riding bottom-side up on the Titanic” Marge responded. “And I hope that’s the only analogy we have to that ship tonight.”

“I’m just debating whether or not I even want to ask for the explanation of this,” Joe said, getting to his feet.