“Don’t be so literal!” Matt cried. “Fortune’s a concept; not a person!”
But Lakshmi said, “Not in this world. Let us go to find this Fortune.” Again she called out, “Husband, aid me!” Then she spun into a whirlwind, chanting a verse in Arabic, voice rising higher and higher. Nearby, Marudin’s voice underscored hers with the same words.
“No, wait!” Matt protested. “It was only a figure of speech, a—” Then he broke off, clamping his jaws shut against nausea.
Djinn and djinna chanted, and the world whirled about Matt and Balkis. They were lost inside a multicolored tornado. Balkis, becoming a cat again, yowled and sank in her claws. Matt was glad he’d thought to wrap his robe about his arm this time. Then all he could think of was trying to hold down his last meal as the tornado churned about him, rising, rising interminably …
… then suddenly fell. The whirling slowed and stopped, the scenery steadied around them, and Matt was glad somebody had taken the overdrive off the merry-go-round. Even more slowly, his stomach stopped churning and settled back into place.
Even through his queasiness, habit and caution made him survey his surroundings. They were mostly a blank, gray, curving wall, though as he turned farther, he saw stalactites and stalagmites, some joining to form pinch-wasted pillars. At least he knew he was in a cave.
Then he heard the singing.
“I think I’d better get down,” he whispered to Lakshmi.
“Can you stand?” she asked.
“Only one way to find out.”
Lakshmi let him down by shrinking down to human size, spilling him out of her arms as she went. Balkis abandoned ship, took a few wobbling steps that grew steadier with every paw-padding, and prowled ahead toward the light that came through the assortment of stone icicles and columns ahead of them. Matt tried to follow, but stumbled. Lakshmi caught his elbow and held him up; someone else caught his other elbow. He looked up, surprised, to see Prince Marudin smiling down at him. Matt tried to grin back, took another step, and within ten paces was walking unaided.
As quietly as they could, they followed the sound of singing and the light.
The contralto was singing in several minor keys, which made things interesting if painful to hear. Matt reminded himself that scales and modes were cultural variables and tiptoed ahead, following a curve in the cave. As he came around it, he stopped, staring in astonishment.
The cave opened out into a large chamber, perhaps thirty feet by sixty. An older woman with a head of wild, light-colored curls stepped forward to a multitude of spinning disks fixed to the wall. She stopped half a dozen of them, drew out darts, then set them each spinning again. She backed away, surveying the collection. The whole wall was filled with such disks, all spinning, though Matt couldn’t make out the markings on them. With a nod of satisfaction, the woman raised a dart and sighted along it. She was perhaps in her fifties, and heavy enough to have a double chin and jowls. She wore a great deal too much makeup, cheeks very obviously rouged, eyelashes even more obviously false. Her frowzy hair was so bright a yellow that it seemed to owe more to chemistry than to Nature, and the way the curls were coming undone and straggling spoke of a similar debt to curling papers and irons. She wore cloth draped in a style that might have been Greek or Roman, but might also have been a hodgepodge of ancient fashions, and her singing was sometimes tuneless, sometimes wordless, sometimes bewitching in its loveliness, sometimes filled with poetry and wonder, sometimes completely empty.
The beldame hurled the dart. It struck one of the disks with so sharp a sound that it was clearly going to stay. She clapped her hands, exclaiming with delight, then picked up another dart and sighted for another throw.
“Can this be the dame herself?” Lakshmi hissed in disbelief.
“It can,” Matt said with resignation. “Fortune isn’t what it used to be, you know.”
When she had thrown all the darts, Fortune strode over to the disks to inspect her handiwork more closely. She nodded, chuckling, pleased with the results, then suddenly frowned and clucked her tongue, shaking her head. With a shrug and a sigh, she started choosing darts to pull out and darts to leave in—but as her hand touched one that had lodged in a rather small disk, she looked, then looked again and stared, mouth dropping open. She shut it with a snap and whirled, setting her hands on her hips and staring directly at Matt. “How dare you seek to spy out the workings of Fortune!”
“I have to,” Matt said. “I’m in politics.” He frowned and stepped out from the maze of stalactites. “How could you tell I was here just by looking at your targets?”
“You are one of the folk in this complex!” Fortune pointed to the little wheel. “I could see that a chance remark had made you come visit me!”
A chance remark? Well, yes, he supposed that line from Shakespeare fitted that description.
“How did you think to find me?” the dame demanded.
“We did not think,” Lakshmi said, “only acted.”
The beldame frowned in thought, then nodded. “That is a way to find me, yes—in fact, you’ll find little else by such deeds, save perhaps Doom and Disaster.”
Matt shuddered. “I’d rather not make their acquaintances, if you don’t mind.”
“Would you not?” Fortune asked in surprise. “But you have come close to them so often.”
Matt shuddered; she confirmed what he had suspected. “Uh, any ideas on how to avoid their company?”
“Do you truly wish to?” Fortune’s gaze strayed, becoming misty-eyed and nostalgic. “The dear lads! We were so close once—still are, really … Well!” She turned back to Matt, and to the moment. “Avoid them? Then avoid me! Or build a stout hedge between yourself and myself, if you can!”
“If,” Matt said with a shiver. “How do you recommend I do that?”
“Oh … become a boon companion of Prudence and Forethought.” Fortune made a face at the mere thought of the two. “A dull pair indeed! You know the ways—save money and goods; invest wisely in the present so that you may build a fortune in the future; make friends, doing favors for one another, so many friends that you become a community …”
“Find security,” Matt summarized, then bit his tongue. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to mention your enemy.”
“Oh, Security is no enemy of mine.” Fortune dismissed the remark with a wave. “Indeed, Security is not a person, but a sort of castle you mortal folk seek to build, and I have the most delightful time trying to knock it apart, which I sometimes can. Of course, those who become bosom friends with Prudence have her strength to buttress their walls, and though I can shake their castles, I can knock down very few of them …”
“But you have pulverized mine,” Lakshmi said, face darkening, “shattered my walls and stolen my children! Where are they, rapacious one? Tell, or we shall measure the power of the djinn ‘gainst those of Chance!”
“No, not Chance.” Fortune shook her head with certainty. “You would not want to meet him; he lives in a cavern nearby, and has the teeth of a shark and the tentacles of an octopus; even I cannot stand against him, and you? Or any creature of the waking world? No, no, poor lass! Do not so much as think of it!”
Lakshmi’s head snapped back in shock; then her eyes brimmed with tears. “Where are they, then? If ‘tis you who have sundered them from me, then ‘tis you who can tell me where they are! Do, I pray thee, or I shall have to confront this Chance of whom you speak.”
“Not Chance, never Chance, never.” Fortune came fluttering toward her, arms out to embrace. “Poor dear, poor bereaved lass!” She folded the unwilling djinna into her arms. “Courage, though, for you have regained the husband who was stolen from you already. Ah, if I could tell you where your babes are, I would, but even I know only that Arjasp has spirited them away to Central Asia, and there hidden them—but where I cannot say, for ‘twas done with Shrewdness and Care, whose cloaks shield all from even my eyes!”
She released Lakshmi, plucking a handkerchief from her bosom
and offering it. Lakshmi took it and dabbed at her eyes, pleading, “Tell me, then, since you can see what is to be—will my babes still be in that same hiding place when I find Arjasp?”
“You will not find him—he will find you, for he summons you through your little ones,” Fortune said regretfully. “As to seeing the future, no, I cannot. I have some role in making it, but I cannot see it, for I throw my darts blindly and know not where they will land until I hear them bite into my targets—and it will be some time yet ere I throw the darts for the balance of your quest. I cannot even yet say whether you will come to Arjasp’s court with your companions.” At the concluding word, her gaze drifted and her eyes filled; she took another handkerchief from her bosom and pressed it to her nose as she sniffled. “Companions! Ah, would I could have some! ‘Tis a lonely life, you know, being Fortune.”
“Surely there must be some among those whom you have blessed who would be delighted to visit with you, at least!” Lakshmi protested.
“Few.” The tears were running freely now. “Those whom I have most favored believe in me least—and even those who do, have not the magic to come to me. You, now, you have the magic, but I may not favor you, for my wheels spin and the darts land where they will, so in a few weeks time you, too, may hate me!”
“Surely you could take better aim,” Lakshmi argued.
“I can take aim, yes.” Fortune nodded. “Sometimes that aim holds true. But there are sudden gusts through my cave, from the cavern next to mine—the Winds of Chance—and no matter how carefully I choose, Chance may deflect my darts whenever he wishes.”
“Try, at least,” Matt urged. “If we aren’t too sunk in gloom at the end of our quest—” He let the sentence hang while he gave Lakshmi a questioning glance; she nodded. Matt turned back to Fortune and finished the sentence. “—we’ll stop and visit on our way back, if we’re not too glum to be good company.”
“You will? Oh, bless you, my friends!” The tears dried on the instant, and Fortune seized a throw rug from its place between two stalactites. She gave it a shake, letting it float to the ground. “Come, let us share a bite and a sip before we part!”
The rug landed in place, revealing a silver service laid out for tea, with small trays of tempting biscuits and sandwiches—cucumber, cheese and tomato, and chicken salad. Fortune glanced up at them and misinterpreted their amazement. She clapped her hand over her mouth, then took it away to say, “Oh, my! I had forgotten! Arabian, not English!” She seized the rug, gave it a shake. It snapped in a wave, and when it settled, the service had changed to a small brass pot with a wooden handle protruding from its side, brazen demitasses, and a collection of small brass plates holding little squares of Turkish Delight and baba-au-rhum.
Lakshmi gave a glad cry, and Matt closed his eyes as he inhaled the fragrance—but Balkis shied away, eyeing the service warily.
“Do you not like it?” Fortune asked anxiously. “Love it!” Matt dropped down cross-legged next to the rug. “You just got yourself a guest!”
Fortune smiled with relief and sat gracefully across from him—and Matt realized that she must have lost twenty pounds at least, her gown seemed to have stabilized along classical Greek lines, and her frowzy curls had settled into a neat coiffure. She poured, asking, “What do you think of the weather over the Hindu Kush?”
“Over it is fine,” Matt said. “On it is another matter. The southern slopes seem to be getting a lot of rain, which is fine for India, but the Afghans could probably use a bit more moisture on the northern side.”
“Ah, the poor Afghans!” Fortune sighed, handing a cup to Lakshmi. “Try as I may to hurl my dart toward rain for them, Chance always blows it aside!”
“They survive, though,” Matt said. “A very hardy people. And how has the weather been in Baluchistan this year?”
So it went, a very pleasant half hour, but when they were done and Fortune was lifting the rug to shake the service away, Matt asked, somewhat tentatively, “I don’t suppose you could tell me if my children are with Lakshmi’s?”
CHAPTER 24
“You did not know?” Fortune looked up in surprise. “I had thought that was why you traveled with her! Yes, most certainly all four children are together! After all, both pair were stolen at Arjasp’s behest.”
Lakshmi stared a moment, then turned to Matt. “So it would seem that the Lady Jimena was right, wizard, and our two quests are one.”
“It would seem so, yes.” Matt almost sagged with relief. “Thank Heaven! At least we know where they are now—and, uh, thank you, too, Dame Fortune.” Matt had always trusted his mother’s insights.
“But I thought you knew.” Lakshmi still frowned at him, puzzled. “You said that they were hostages to Fortune.”
“Oh, not to me!” Fortune protested. “To Arjasp, yes, but never to me!” Abruptly, though, she reconsidered, turning away, brow puckered in thought. “Well, yes, I suppose you might say that if you have not built your castle of Security high enough or strong enough, I could knock it over quite easily with a throw of a dart—and since it takes a much bigger castle for a family than for a single person, it is that much harder to build it strong enough to resist me. Therefore those who are married and who are parents must do as Fortune dictates, for their castles are too weak to resist me … Yes, I see. In that sense, your babies are hostages to me—but they will be all your life! For now, the only one who holds them hostage is Arjasp.”
“What do we have to do to get them back?” Matt asked. “Arjasp only required that Alisande leave the Caliph, and she’s done that. Me, I’m trying to track them down, but is that enough?”
“It will be now, yes!” Fortune nodded vigorously. “You have made friends with Fortune, wizard, so you need only keep working, keep striving, and sooner or later some of my darts will favor you.”
“Maybe we could speed that up a little,” Matt said with a slow smile. “How about a game of darts?”
But Fortune only smiled on him with fond pity. “Poor lad, you challenged me to that game the day you were born!”
“Oh?” Matt asked, giving her a leery eye. “How’s my score?”
“Like those of most.” Fortune shrugged. “You have won some and lost some, and won one great score, though it took a great deal of hard work to consolidate what I had sent you—but overall, you are winning.”
“Well, I can’t complain,” Matt said slowly. “I married a queen, and I have two children whom I love. Seems they’re always in peril, though, and that my winnings are very temporary.”
“Everyone’s are, everyone’s are!” Fortune nodded vigorously. “There are one or two who have built enough Security to be safe from my worst darts, but they are rare, rare.”
“And I’m not one of them,” Matt said with a sinking heart.
“You have insisted on true, passionate love, or nothing,” Fortune reminded him. “If you had found nothing, Security would be quite easy to build—but you found true love, and thus set yourself high, where you are exposed to more darts than most. But you have built a different kind of Security, too, not only wealth of belongings, but friends. Indeed, you have helped some people so much that you have become necessary to them—and if they have need of you, they will help you when you have need, and fight to defend you when you are attacked.”
“I haven’t—” But Matt broke off, thinking of Sir Guy, King Rinaldo, Frisson, Sir Gilbert … Could all those people he bad helped have come to depend on him?
Yes. They could.
“You see, your true security is other people.” Fortune smiled upon him. “The more of them who need you, the more who will aid you in your hour of need, even as you have helped this djinna, and she has helped you—so that now you aid one another again.”
Matt and Lakshmi looked at one another as though seeing each other for the first time.
“You, however, have not challenged me,” Fortune said to Balkis. “Come, assume your true form! I know you for what you are; there are no secrets from Fo
rtune.”
Matt looked away, not wanting a queasy stomach after all those Middle Eastern sweets. When he turned back, Balkis stood in human form, glaring out from under her veil at Fortune. “How do all others challenge you at birth, but I did not?”
“Because your mother took your challenge upon her.” A tear formed at the comer of Fortune’s eye. “Poor woman, she died for it.” Balkis looked stricken, and Fortune stared. “You did not know? Poor child, I did not mean to speak so brusquely then! But yes, she died, but before she did, she set you adrift in a basket, begging the water-spirits to care for you—and so they did, and entrusted you to the dryads, who laid a geas upon you that would compel all magical creatures to treat you kindly.”
Lakshmi gave Balkis a sidelong look, reevaluating their relationship.
“So you are one of the few of whom it can be said that you bear a charmed life.” Fortune stepped forward, holding out a dart. “Come, take it! You shall see that you cannot throw it amiss.”
Warily and with every doubt showing, Balkis took the dart.
“Step up to the line, now.” Fortune took her by the elbows and led her into position. “There, now! Throw!”
Still hesitant, Balkis drew her arm back, then hurled the dart. It bit deep into wood, and Fortune bustled over to inspect the wheel in which it had landed. She nodded briskly. “Even as I foretold! You have determined where the three of you will go next.” She turned, smiling broadly as though at some inner joke. “Go, then! Off to find your children, parents—and child, off to discover your destiny!”
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