Tales of the Dying Earth

by Jack Vance

  "After him!" bawled Ildefonse. "He must not escape!"

  The magicians gave chase to the fleet archveult. Across the Scaum hills, past Were Woods ran Xexamedes; like hounds after a fox came the magicians. Xexamedes entered Were Woods and doubled back, but the magicians suspected a trick and were not deceived.

  Leaving the forest Xexamedes approached Rhialto's manse and took cover beside the aviary. The bird-women set up an alarm and old Funk, Rhialto's servitor, hobbled forth to investigate.

  Gilgad now spied Xexamedes and exerted his Instantaneous Electric Effort—a tremendous many-pronged dazzle which not only shivered Xexamedes but destroyed Rhialto's aviary, shattered his antique way-post and sent poor old Funk dancing across the sward on stilts of crackling blue light.

  3

  A linden leaf clung to the front door of Rhialto's manse, pinned by a thorn. A prank of the wind, thought Rhialto, and brushed it aside. His new servant Puiras, however, picked it up and, in a hoarse grumbling voice, read:

  NOTHING THREATENS MORREION

  .

  "What is this regarding Morreion?" demanded Rhialto. Taking the leaf he inspected the minute silver characters. "A gratuitous reassurance." A second time he discarded the leaf and gave Puiras his final instructions. "At midday prepare a meal for the Minuscules— gruel and tea will suffice. At sunset serve out the thrush pate. Next, I wish you to scour the tile of the great hall. Use no sand, which grinds at the luster of the glaze. Thereafter, clear the south sward of debris; you may use the aeolus, but take care; blow only down the yellow reed; the black reed summons a gale, and we have had devastation enough. Set about the aviary; salvage all useful material. If you find corpses, deal with them appropriately. Is so much clear?"

  Puiras, a man spare and loose-jointed, with a bony face and lank black hair, gave a dour nod. ' 'Except for a single matter. When I have accomplished all this, what else?"

  Rhialto, drawing on his cloth-of-gold gauntlets, glanced sidewise at his servant. Stupidity? Zeal? Churlish sarcasm? Puiras' visage offered no clue. Rhialto spoke in an even voice. "Upon completion of these tasks, your time is your own. Do not tamper with the magical engines; do not, for your life, consult the portfolios, the librams or the compendiary. In due course, I may instruct you in a few minor dints; until then, be cautious!"

  "I will indeed."

  Rhialto adjusted his six-tiered black satin hat, donned his cloak with that flourish which had earned him his soubriquet "the Marvellous." "I go to visit Ildefonse. When I pass the outer gate impose the boundary curse; under no circumstances lift it until I signal. Expect me at sunset: sooner, if all goes well."

  Making no effort to interpret Puiras' grunt, Rhialto sauntered to the north portal, averting his eyes from the wreckage of his wonderful aviary. Barely had he passed the portal by, when Puiras activated the curse, prompting Rhialto to jump hastily forward. Rhialto adjusted the set of his hat. The ineptitude of Puiras was but one in a series of misfortunes, all attributable to the archveult Xexamedes. His aviary destroyed, the way-post shattered, old Funk dead! From some source compensation must be derived!

  4

  Idefonse lived in a castle above the River Scaum: a vast and complex structure of a hundred turrets, balconies, elevated pavilions and plea-saunces. During the final ages of the 21st Aeon, when Ildefonse had served as preceptor, the castle had seethed with activity. Now only a single wing of this monstrous edifice was in use, with the rest abandoned to dust, owls and archaic ghosts.

  Ildefonse met Rhialto at the bronze portal. "My dear colleague, splendid as usual! Even on an occasion like that of today! You put me to shame!" Ildefonse stood back the better to admire Rhialto's austerely handsome visage, his fine blue cloak and trousers of rose velvet, his glossy boots. Ildefonse himself, for reasons obscure, presented himself in the guise of a jovial sage, with a bald pate, a lined countenance, pale blue eyes, an irregular yellow beard—conceivably a natural condition which vanity would not let him discard.

  "Come in, then," cried Ildefonse. "As always, with your sense of drama, you are last to arrive!"

  They proceeded to the great hall. On hand were fourteen sorcerers: Zilifant, Perdustin, Herark the Harbinger, Haze of Wheary Water, Ao of the Opals, Eshmiel, Kilgas, Byzant the Necrope, Gilgad, Vermou-lian the Dream-walker, Barbanikos, the diabolist Shrue, Mune the Mage, Hurtiancz. Ildefonse called out, "The last of our cabal has arrived: Rhialto the Marvellous, at whose manse the culminating stroke occurred!"

  Rhialto doffed his hat to the group. Some returned the salute; others: Gilgad, Byzant the Necrope, Mune the Mage, Kilgas, merely cast cool glances over their shoulders.

  Ildefonse took Rhialto by the arm and led him to the buffet. Rhialto accepted a goblet of wine, which he tested with his amulet.

  In mock chagrin Ildefonse protested: "The wine is sound; have you yet been poisoned at my board?''

  "No. But never have circumstances been as they are today."

  Ildefonse made a sign of wonder. ' The circumstances are favorable! We have vanquished our enemy; his IOUN stones are under our control!"

  "True," said Rhialto. "But remember the damages I have suffered! I claim corresponding benefits, of which my enemies would be pleased to deprive me."

  "Tush," scolded Ildefonse. "Let us talk on a more cheerful note. How goes the renewal of your way-post? The Minuscules carve with zest?"

  "The work proceeds," Rhialto replied. "Their tastes are by no means coarse. For this single week their steward has required two ounces of honey, a gill of Misericord, a dram and a half of malt spirits, all in addition to biscuit, oil and a daily ration of my best thrush pate."

  Ildefonse shook his head in disapproval. "They become ever more splendid, and who must pay the score? You and I. So the world goes." He turned away to refill the goblet of the burly Hurtiancz.

  "I have made investigation," said Hurtiancz ponderously, "and I find that Xexamedes had gone among us for years. He seems to have been a renegade, as unwelcome on Jangk as on Earth."

  "He may still be the same," Ildefonse pointed out. "Who found his corpse? No one! Haze here declares that electricity to an archveult is like water to a fish."

  "This is the case," declared Haze of Wheary Water, a hot-eyed wisp of a man.

  "In that event, the damage done to my property becomes more irresponsible than ever!" cried Rhialto. "I demand compensation before any other general adjustments are made."

  Hurtiancz frowned. "I fail to comprehend your meaning."

  "It is elegantly simple," said Rhialto. "I suffered serious damage; the balance must be restored. I intend to claim the IOUN stones."

  "You will find yourself one among many," said Hurtiancz.

  Haze of Wheary Water gave a sardonic snort. "Claim as you please."

  Mune the Mage came forward. "The archveult is barely dead; must we bicker so quickly?"

  Eshmiel asked, "Is he dead after all? Observe this!" He displayed a linden leaf. "I found it on my blue tile kurtivan. It reads, 'NOTHING THREATENS MORREION.' "

  "I also found such a leaf!" declared Haze.

  "And I!" said Hurtiancz.

  "How the centuries roll, one past the other!" mused Ildefonse. "Those were the days of glory, when we sent the archveults flitting like a band of giant bats! Poor Morreion! I have often puzzled as to his fate."

  Eshmiel frowned down at his leaf. " 'NOTHING THREATENS MORREION'—so we are assured. If such is the case, the notice would seem superfluous and over-helpful."

  "It is quite clear," Gilgad grumbled. "Morreion went forth to learn the source of the IOUN stones; he did so, and now is threatened by nothing."

  "A possible interpretation," said Ildefonse in a pontifical voice. "There is certainly more here than meets the eye."

  "It need not trouble us now," said Rhialto. "To the IOUN stones in present custody, however, I now put forward a formal claim, as compensation for the damage I took in the common cause."

  "The statement has a specious plausibility," remarked Gilgad. "Essen
tially, however, each must benefit in proportion to his contribution. I do not say this merely because it was my Instantaneous Electric Effort which blasted the archveult."

  Ao of the Opals said sharply, "Another casuistic assumption which must be rejected out-of-hand, especially since the providential energy allowed Xexamedes to escape!"

  The argument continued an hour. Finally a formula proposed by Ildefonse was put to vote and approved by a count of fifteen to one. The goods formerly owned by the archveult Xexamedes were to be set out for inspection. Each magician would list the items in order of choice; Ildefonse would collate the lists. Where conflict occurred determination must be made by lot. Rhialto, in recognition of his loss, was granted a free selection after choice five had been determined; Gilgad was accorded the same privilege after choice ten.

  Rhialto made a final expostulation: "What value to me is choice five? The archveult owned nothing but the stones, a few banal adjuncts and these roots, herbs and elixirs."

  His views carried no weight. Ildefonse distributed sheets of paper; each magician listed the articles he desired; Ildefonse examined each list in turn. "It appears," he said, "that all present declare their first choice to be the IOUN stones."

  Everyone glanced toward the stones; they winked and twinkled with pale white fire.

  "Such being the case," said Ildefonse, "determination must be made by chance."

  He set forth a crockery pot and sixteen ivory disks. "Each will indite his sign upon one of the chips and place it into the pot, in this fashion." Ildefonse marked one of the chips, dropped it into the pot. "When all have done so, I will call in a servant who will bring forth a single chip."

  "A moment!" exclaimed Byzant. "I apprehend mischief; it walks somewhere near."

  Ildefonse turned the sensitive Necrope a glance of cold inquiry. "To what mischief do you refer?"

  "I detect a contradiction, a discord; something strange walks among us; there is someone here who should not be here."

  "Someone moves unseen!" cried Mune the Mage. "Ildefonse, guard the stones!"

  Ildefonse peered here and there through the shadowy old hall. He made a secret signal and pointed to a far corner: "Ghost! Are you on hand?"

  A soft sad whisper said, "I am here."

  "Respond: who walks unseen among us?"

  "Stagnant eddies of the past. I see faces: the less-than-ghosts, the ghosts of dead ghosts. . .. They glimmer and glimpse, they look and go."

  "What of living things?"

  "No harsh blood, no pulsing flesh, no strident hearts."

  "Guard and watch." Ildefonse returned to Byzant the Necrope. "What now?"

  "I feel a strange flavor."

  Byzant spoke softly, to express the exquisite delicacy of his concepts. "Among all here, I alone am sufficiently responsive to the subtlety of the IOUN stones. They should be placed in my custody."

  "Let the drawing proceed!" Hurtiancz called out. "Byzant's plan will never succeed."

  "Be warned!" cried Byzant. With a black glance toward Hurtiancz, he moved to the rear of the group.

  Ildefonse summoned one of his maidens. "Do not be alarmed. You must reach into the pot, thoroughly stir the chips, and bring forth one, which you will then lay upon the table. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Lord Magician."

  "Do as I bid."

  The girl went to the pot. She reached forth her hand. At this precise instant Rhialto activated a spell of Temporal Stasis, with which, in anticipation of some such emergency, he had come prepared.

  Time stood still for all but Rhialto. He glanced around the chamber, at the magicians in their frozen attitudes, at the servant girl with one hand over the pot, at Ildefonse staring at the girl's elbow.

  Rhialto leisurely sauntered over to the IOUN stones. He could now take possession, but such an act would arouse a tremendous outcry and all would league themselves against him. A less provocative system was in order. He was startled by a soft sound from the corner of the room, when there should be no sound in still air.

  "Who moves?" called Rhialto.

  "I move," came the soft voice of the ghost.

  "Time is at a standstill. You must not move, or speak, or watch, or know."

  "Time, no-time—it is all one. I know each instant over and over."

  Rhialto shrugged and turned to the urn. He brought out the chips. To his wonder each was indited "Ildefonse."

  "Aha!" exclaimed Rhialto. "Some crafty rascal selected a previous instant for his mischief! Is it not always the case? At the end of this, he and I will know each other the better!" Rhialto rubbed out Ildefonse's signs and substituted his own. Then he replaced all in the pot.

  Resuming his former position, he revoked the spell.

  Noise softly filled the room. The girl reached into the pot. She stirred the chips, brought forth one of them which she placed upon the table. Rhialto leaned over the chip, as did Ildefonse. It gave a small jerk. The sign quivered and changed before their eyes.

  Ildefonse lifted it and in a puzzled voice read, "Gilgad!"

  Rhialto glanced furiously at Gilgad, who gave back a bland stare. Gilgad had also halted time, but Gilgad had waited until the chip was actually upon the table.

  Ildefonse said in a muffled voice, "That is all. You may go." The girl departed. Ildefonse poured the chips on the table. They were correctly indited; each bore the sign or the signature of one of the magicians present. Ildefonse pulled at his white beard. He said, "It seems that Gilgad has availed himself of the IOUN stones."

  Gilgad strode to the table. He emitted a terrible cry. "The stones! What has been done to them?" He held up the net, which now sagged under the weight of its contents. The brooding translucence was gone; the objects in the net shone with a vulgar vitreous glitter. Gilgad took one and dashed it to the floor, where it shattered into splinters. "These are not the IOUN stones! Knavery is afoot!"

  "Indeed!" declared Ildefonse. "So much is clear."

  "I demand my stones!" raved Gilgad. "Give them to me at once or I loose a spell of anguish against all present!"

  "One moment," growled Hurtiancz. "Delay your spell. Ildefonse, bring forth your ghost; learn what transpired."

  Ildefonse gave his beard a dubious tug, then raised his finger toward the far corner. "Ghost! Are you at hand?"

  "I am."

  "What occurred while we drew chips from the pot?"

  "There was motion. Some moved, some stayed. When the chip at last was laid on the table, a strange shape passed into the room. It took the stones and was gone."

  "What manner of strange shape?"

  "It wore a skin of blue scales; black plumes rose from its head, still it carried a soul of man."

  "Archveult!" muttered Hurtiancz. "I suspect Xexamedes!"

  Gilgad cried, "So then, what of my stones, my wonderful stones? How will I regain my property? Must I always be stripped of my valued possessions?"

  "Cease your keening!" snapped the diabolist Shrue. "The remaining items must be distributed. Ildefonse, be so good as to consult the lists."

  Ildefonse took up the papers. "Since Gilgad won the first draw, his list will now be withdrawn. For second choice—"

  He was interrupted by Gilgad's furious complaint. "I protest this intolerable injustice! I won nothing but a handful of glass gewgaws!"

  Ildefonse shrugged. "It is the robber-archveult to whom you must complain, especially when the drawing was attended by certain temporal irregularities, to which I need make no further reference."

  Gilgad raised his arms in the air; his saturnine face knotted to the surge and counter-surge of his passions. His colleagues watched with dispassionate faces. "Proceed, Ildefonse," said Vermoulian the Dream-walker.

  Ildefonse spread out the papers. "It appears that among the group only Rhialto has selected, for second choice, this curiously shaped device, which appears to be one of Houlart's Preterite Recordiums. I therefore make this award and place Rhialto's list with Gilgad's. Perdustin, Barbanikos, Ao of the Opals, and I mysel
f have evinced a desire for this Casque of Sixty Directions, and we must therefore undertake a trial by lot. The jar, four chips—"

  "On this occasion," said Perdustin, "let the maid be brought here now. She will put her hand over the mouth of the pot; we will insert the chips between her fingers; thus we ensure against a disruption of the laws of chance."

  Ildefonse pulled at his yellow whiskers, but Perdustin had his way. In this fashion all succeeding lots were drawn. Presently it became Rhialto's turn to make a free choice.