The Series Boxed Set

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by Piers Anthony


  Sylvie and Nylon, on my fingers, were silent, not wishing to call any avoidable attention to themselves. I suspected the same was true of Sinbad and the Thief, on Medea’s fingers.

  “I came to proffer a deal,” Medea said.

  Hades eyed her. I saw her clothing become transparent wherever his gaze progressed. Had any of her assets been false, as is the case with some women, they would have been exposed. “I am more than surfeit with experienced women.”

  “But not with mortal ones,” Medea said. “All your whores are long since dead, however they may appear.”

  “True. I long for mortality and inexperience. There is precious little naivete here, and that is highly perishable.” He seemed sad for a moment. “But let me hear you out, sorceress. What is the deal you propose?”

  “I will trade Sinbad the Sailor and the Thief of Baghdad for my beloved Jason. It is a good deal for you, as both are mortal while Jason is not.”

  I saw the rings on her fingers twitch: the two named men were objecting. Not that she cared.

  “I am intrigued,” Hades said. I had the feeling that he was playing cat and mouse with her, one of the very few males who could. What was he up to?

  “And I want to take Aladdin back with me, as my second love slave,” Medea said.

  Hades glanced at me. “Is Aladdin not married, and with a competent concubine he wraps around his finger?”

  Ouch.

  “What of it?”

  Ouch again. Neither of those two gave half a rotten fig for our sentiments.

  Hades smiled. “You might after all be fun to play with, sorceress. But I am jaded. It will be more entertaining to douse you in honey and chain you out for the ants to eat. After the first century I will think of something else to do with you.”

  “Then consider my second offer. You like virginal mortals? These days no girl over thirteen will qualify, nor would she come to you if she did. But there is one who would.”

  I felt an ugly chill. Where was Medea going with this?

  “Who? Speak, woman, while you still have a tongue.”

  “Her name is Myrrh. Not only is she young, pretty, and physically innocent, she is telepathic. You would find her completely delightful.”

  “No!” Duban and I said almost together before Medea even completed her speech, and there was a surge of outrage from Myrrh herself. I had thought she was now out of range, but maybe not quite.

  “Unfortunately that particular mortal girl was caught on the wrong side of the Gate,” Hades said. “I could not summon her, regardless, as I lack power over the mortal realm, and she would not come to me voluntarily. She is not yours to bargain with.”

  “You have but to threaten to torture Duban, here, and she will make the deal immediately to spare him.”

  Hades considered. “True?” he asked Myrrh.

  “No!” Duban said.

  I felt the horror and the tears as Myrrh answered. True. She was young, but she truly loved Duban.

  And of course the Lord of Hades would do it, in his utter cynicism, to win his innocent mortal victim. Myrrh would do it to save Duban. Medea knew this, and so did Hades. Now we knew why the sorceress had communed with Myrrh: to get her measure.

  “Perhaps we do have a deal,” Hades said. “But there remain some trifling details.” He snapped his fingers. “Jason.”

  Jason appeared. He was a handsome man in Greek attire. “Master.”

  “Your ex-wife Medea wishes to take you with her to the mortal realm. Do you care to go?”

  “She killed my beloved!” Jason said. “And my children. Bring her here so I can torture her myself.”

  Hades glanced at Medea, amused. “It seems he spurns you again, sorceress.”

  “Bind him to me,” Medea said evenly. “I don’t want him as an independent man; I want him as my obedient love slave. The same way I want Aladdin. They can both curse me as long as they satisfy my lust.”

  “I wouldn’t touch you, granddaughter of a dog!” Jason swore. “Except to whip your sorry hide.”

  “There may be whipping, yes,” the sorceress murmured. “But not of that nature.” She licked her lips.

  Now I knew the nature of Medea’s interest in me. It was a turnoff, quite apart from my loyalty to Jewel and Nylon.

  Thank you, Nylon thought.

  “Since the group of you entered my domain voluntarily, you are in my power,” Hades said. “So it seems the deal is mine to make. The three of you and the two female rings will be freed unharmed, Jason the Greek will be bound to Medea, and the girl Myrrh will meet you at the gate and enter in your place.” He glanced at Medea. “Satisfactory, canine granddaughter?”

  Medea opened her mouth, but I spoke first. “No!”

  Hades glanced at me with mild curiosity. “You are under the impression that you have some say in this matter?”

  “I demand that we settle this in another manner,” I said. “As is the right of kings.”

  “And this manner is?”

  “Trial by personal combat, me versus you, with scimitars.”

  “Now this is really interesting,” Hades said, not at all fazed. “A good individual combat for high stakes is always entertaining. The minions of hell will enjoy the spectacle. But we will need two things.”

  “Seconds,” I said immediately. “To make sure the sides are fair and there is no cheating. Duban will be mine.”

  “Of course. I will take as my second—” He paused. “Medea.”

  The sorceress was startled. “We are not on the same side!”

  “We don’t need to be, granddaughter. You just need to do the best job you can.”

  She considered. “I—suppose so. There is precedent.”

  “What is the other thing?” I asked suspiciously.

  “We need to redefine the terms. If you win, all of you go free and Medea gets Jason too. If I win, I get Myrrh—and Medea. As my love slaves.”

  “How can I second you when I don’t want to be your love slave?” Medea demanded.

  Hades stroked his beard. “I suppose that is a problem. Also, the sides would be unfair, as you have considerably more experience in sorcery than the boy does. But there is a simple fix for both problems.”

  I really did not trust this. “What fix?”

  “We will exchange seconds. Medea will support you, and the boy will second me. He is honest, so will do his best in that temporary role. That will make the sides approximately even. Agreed?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but could not think of anything effective to say.

  “Agreed,” Medea said.

  Agreed, Myrrh thought.

  “Agreed,” Duban said. That last surprised me most.

  A circular arena formed around us. A huge audience of demons and damned souls was already in place. It seemed the fight was on.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “However,” Hades said, “You neglected a detail. You, as the challenger, have the right to combat. I, as the challenged, have the right to select the weapons.”

  He was right. I nodded, grimly.

  “And I may elect to take more than the two mistresses. To the victor belong the spoils, as someone will sometime say.”

  I did not answer. This was his domain. He could cheat if he wanted to. But that meant that I could in turn modify a term or two of the deal if I discovered a way to do it. Small comfort at the moment, but it just might make a difference.

  Hades summoned one of his lesser demons.

  At least, I assumed it was lesser since it was a good deal shorter than the winged monstrosities who flew us to Hades’ palace. It approached Hades cautiously, and I soon saw why: in a blink of an eye, a fiery sword appeared in the god’s hand. The sword flashed and the head of the demon promptly fell free. Hades caught it neatly and dropped it into a sack that next magically appeared in his hand. He casually tied it off as other demons dragged the headless body away. I couldn’t help but notice that the head in the bag was cursing and spitting and trying its best t
o use its horns to gouge the hand that held it.

  “Our ball,” said Hades, flipping the sack up and catching it.

  I was aware of running contests, archery contests, wrestling contests and mock battle contests, but never one that involved a “ball.” Balls, usually made up of rubber from trees and imported into my kingdom, were for kids to play with. To roll around and kick. Not for adult games.

  “What do you propose?” I asked, as the “ball” continued snapping and snarling inside the bag.

  Hades motioned to a stone hoop hanging vertically from inside the arena. “The rule is simple, King Aladdin. The ball must travel through the hoop five times. The first to do so wins.”

  “You are a powerful god,” I said. “I hardly see how this is fair.”

  “I’m not known for fairness, but I do have, let’s say, a competitive streak. Very well, the arena will be magic-free.” Just as Hades spoke these words, Duban and Medea disappeared. When I blinked and looked again, they had reappeared opposite each other just outside of the arena. Hades continued, “Only our seconds can perform magic on our behalf. Your son for me. Medea for you.”

  “And if I win?”

  “You won’t, but if, by some strange fluke, that you do, then I will grant you your freedom. Oh, and let’s relieve you of your nymphs, too.” He snapped his fingers and the rings disappeared from my hand, to reappear as Sylvie and Nylon standing next to Medea.

  With the removal of the nymphs, my telepathy also disappeared, and for the first time in a long, long time, I felt truly alone.

  Not entirely alone, came Myrrh’s words. I’m still here. Hades has no control over me. At least, not yet.

  I understood the implication in her words. It was up to me...and perhaps Medea, to somehow defeat the ruler of the Underworld in a game I was unfamiliar with, while opposing my own highly gifted son.

  I will do my best, Myrrh, I thought back. Or die trying.

  She seemed touched by my sentiments. She paused, collected herself, then added: And if need be, my liege, I can relay Nylon’s, Sylvie’s or even Jewel’s thoughts.

  I nodded. That could be helpful, but I suspected that I was going to have to rely on my own wiles and athleticism here, limited as they might be. Despite what my wife might think of me, I had always been a fleet-footed scamp, well before my days of discovering the magical lamp. Back when I had to rely on my street smarts and quick feet.

  Hades next dropped the snarling ball in the dirt and ordered us to march off twenty steps. Demons of all shapes and sizes swirled around the arena, flitting between the humans who were chained together. All watching the spectacle below. All watching me take on the God of the Underworld.

  Hades was still a head taller than me—and nearly twice as wide. A formidable foe by any right. And as the chanting began in the crowd—a combination of hissing and shrieks—Hades gave me a wicked grin, then dashed forward. Toward the demon head. The ball.

  The game had begun.

  * * *

  “It’s begun,” Myrrh reported to the others. She was leaning against the gate, her forehead pressed into the cold iron. She was seeing through Aladdin’s eyes, and it wasn’t pretty. “It’s a ball game to five, and Aladdin is already down two to nothing.”

  “Oh, camel dung,” said Jewel. “And what of Duban?”

  “He’s secretly being controlled by Hades. The god of the Underworld is far too clever. Or thinks he is. He’s taken over Duban’s will, forcing him to fight against his father. Worse, he’s tapped into Duban’s latent talents, and is utilizing them in ways that Duban never thought possible. In effect, he just turned our boy into a world-class wizard, of the likes few have ever seen.”

  Jewel paced before the great iron gate, running her hand through her hair. She was having trouble wrapping her brain around the fact that her only son was currently in hell, being manipulated by Hades himself, in a fight—if not to the death, then for all eternity.

  “Aladdin has been sitting on the throne for far too many years to outplay Hades,” she said. “We’re going to have to bring in some reinforcements.”

  “But who?” Myrrh was presently too distracted by the demented ball game to telepathically see where Jewel was going with this.

  For an answer, Jewel stopped pacing and removed an amulet from around her neck. To most, it appeared to be just another royal emerald of spectacular size and shape. But Jewel knew differently.

  When they departed the magical Kingdom of Djinnland, King Lamprey—the djinn who was once trapped in Aladdin’s lamp—had presented her with the gift...and instructions.

  She recalled the instructions now, and rubbed the massive amulet three times. To her shock, although she really shouldn’t have been shocked, a deep male voice suddenly spoke from behind her.

  “Queen Jewel, it’s a pleasure seeing you again.”

  She gasped and turned, and so did Myrrh. “Lamprey!” said Jewel. “You came.”

  Lamprey bowed slightly. “Of course, my lady. Aladdin gave me back my kingdom. I am bound to him now through the heart.” Next the powerful djinn took in his surroundings. “Aw, I see our favorite king has found a way to get himself into even more mischief. May I presume he’s behind this gate to hell?”

  “Yes, playing a ballgame with Hades himself.”

  “And let me guess: his immortal soul is at stake?”

  “Yes. His among many others.”

  The djinn looked over at the girl. “And what’s the score, Myrrh?”

  “It’s presently three to nothing. Aladdin is taking a beating.”

  Lamprey nodded. “And who has the key to the gate?”

  “It’s with Cerberus. One of the heads swallowed it.”

  “Of course,” said Lamprey, laughing. “And where is that old dog?”

  “Down here, my lord,” barked the beast, his telepathy carrying the meaning.

  Lamprey leaned over the edge and chuckled to himself, then looked back at Jewel. “It appears that you summoned me just in time,” he said. “Besides, I have an old score to settle with the god of the Underworld.”

  “An old score?”

  “The old devil caused much mischief in Djinnland, a land where he was not welcome. Now, let’s fetch this key and save Aladdin.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “But is this legitimate?” Jewel asked. “Isn’t it supposed to be just the two of them as prizes, Myrrh and Medea?”

  “It was, but Hades modified the rules,” Lamprey said. “That, by the divine order of things, is a tort, and Aladdin now may similarly modify them. Technically he needs to request my support.” He glanced at Myrrh, who closed her eyes, focusing.

  “A what?” Jewel asked. “I am not familiar with this tortoise.”

  “A tort. A wrongful act apart from breach of contract,” Lamprey explained. “Such as a pie maker not being allowed to pee in the pie even if the customer did not think to request that it be pure.”

  Jewel nodded appreciatively. “Hades peed in Aladdin’s pie by changing the stakes of the contest. It was supposed to be just Myrrh and Medea as mistresses, not the whole lot of us.”

  “Exactly. The Lord of Hades has gotten away with arrogance for too long there in his subterranean kingdom, and thinks he can ignore the fundamental rules of honor combat. We shall re-educate him.”

  “I have informed Aladdin,” Myrrh reported. “He formally requests your support.”

  “That will do,” Lamprey said. “The background conventions have been honored.” He flew down into the gulf, picked up huge Cerberus with no seeming effort, and carried him back to the upper level. The dog seemed satisfied to be carried; obviously the two had met before, and respected each other.

  “But the key won’t come out for days,” Jewel said, eyeing the big body.

  “With your permission, friend,” Lamprey said to the dog.

  Cerberus opened the mouth of the head that had swallowed the Key. Lamprey put a hand in, and reached on down inside the dog’s throat, all the way to his
stomach. In a moment he pulled it out again, holding the Key. It dripped with digestive juices, but was intact. Lamprey tapped the nearby wall, a jet of clear water came out, and he rinsed the Key and handed it to Jewel with a small flourish. The little fountain ceased.

  “Thank you,” she said, pretending this was routine. “So now we can get in. What then? I doubt we can reach Aladdin fast enough to save him.”

  “We won’t save him,” Lamprey said. “We won’t even be on the scene. He will save himself. We have but to be inside Hades so that we are in the same venue. The demons will not be paying attention. It will be a picnic.” He smiled. “Complete with sandwiches.”

  “With what?”

  “They may not have been invented in this period. But who’s counting?” A big hamper appeared in his hands, overflowing with choice morsels and beverages.

  Jewel did not argue the case. She put the Key to the lock, turned it, and the Gate opened. They entered as a group: Lamprey, Jewel, Myrrh, Cerberus, and Nydea.

  Inside was a rather pleasant landscape. They were in a clearing in a forest, the ground covered by very short thick grass. “The default state,” Lamprey explained. “When the demons are not focusing on making it horrible. They wile away the dull hours by playing golf. It provides them practice with their vilest language.”

  “Playing in the gulf?”

  “Golf. A decadent western sport, not yet invented, that men love, consisting of using sticks to knock little balls into holes.”

  “Isn’t that like sex?” Nydea asked, smiling.

  “Close enough. Now have your picnic while I focus on Aladdin. He is behind four to nothing, so it is time. Myrrh, get back in touch. Time is brief.”

  “Do that,” Jewel agreed as she and Nydea unpacked the hamper. Cerberus joyfully went to pay homage to the nice tree trunks.

  * * *

  I was behind four to nothing. One more point and I would be done for. I had no idea what to do, as I was hopelessly clumsy at this crazy game.

  Aladdin. It was Myrrh’s thought, much stronger and clearer than before. You must do a conversion. Open your mind to me so I can channel it.

 

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