Demons of the Dancing Gods

by Jack L. Chalker

  With that. Marge, who flew and had only one piece of baggage, undipped her sunglasses from the necklace and put them on. They started into the wood, keeping just to the right of the road in the brush.

  The forest was full of the sounds of tens of thousands of birds awakening to meet the new day and of insects changing shifts from night to day, but the road remained deserted. The trees, however, began taking on a sinister appearance as the three travelers pushed deeper into the seat of power, with huge trunks looking like the ghosts of tortured souls. Vines and underbrush, too, grew thicker and harder to navigate. Many seemed to have thorns or brambles that caught and scratched.

  I think we're going to have to risk the road, at least for this part, Tiana said.

  Joe shrugged. It's a little rugged, I agree; but—what? That last was caused by a nearby bush with long, vinelike branches, one of which managed to snake around Joe's foot and start pulling. He found himself suddenly crashing to the forest floor as yet another branch, then another, threw themselves around whatever parts of him they could, and all then began pulling him toward the large plant. With a yell, he managed to draw his sword, but had some trouble keeping enough balance to slash away at the tendrillike branches that held him. Tiana rushed over, trying to keep out of reach of more of the things herself, and grabbed him under his shoulders, creating a tug of war with the plant.

  Hey! Let go and push me up! he shouted. She did, and Irving came down again and again, slicing through the vines and causing the bush to issue loud, high-pitched screams. Suddenly all vines were withdrawn, and he managed to get to his feet. Only Tiana prevented him from rushing in to take the sword to the bush itself.

  There are too many of them! she shouted at him, and he calmed down and saw that what she said was true.

  Let's get over to the road, he suggested nervously. Marge—take the high road as far up as you can without getting into the trees. Better they not see you until they have to.

  Marge nodded and rose into the air, then paced her companions there as they limped out to the road. Joe found he had some fairly nasty welts where the vines had grasped him, but they began to fade almost immediately. Tiana looked at them and said, Perhaps it is well after all that you have this curse. The poison those things have is often strong enough to paralyze a horse.

  I'll be all right, he assured her, standing and stretching. But anybody we meet on the road, I'll face with the sword, I think. I don't like those green uglies.

  With Marge softly humming, We're off to see the Wizard, they started nervously down the road.

  Joe felt better after a while and chuckled dryly. You know, here I am surrounded by sexy naked ladies, and the only thing I can think of right now is that I haven't eaten anything since we left that damned boat. Must be really getting to me, though— I could swear I smelted something cooking right now.

  Tiana sniffed the air. You are not imagining things. It seems to be coming from just over there. Let us see what this could be.

  They walked over and saw a small path through the trees and brush leading back to what looked like a fairly large, two storey Victorian house. Or, rather, it looked like a cast of one. It was perfect in every detail, but clearly it was a solid block of some dark brown substance. They approached it cautiously; then Joe went up to the front steps, sniffed, and said, puzzled, Gingerbread?

  Both Tiana and Marge approached and checked it out, then they nodded. Gingerbread. Marge giggled. It really is a huge gingerbread house.

  Yeah, but for whom? First time I saw two tons of gingerbread in my whole life, Joe noted.

  Tiana was the only one who did not find it amusing. This is one of Esmerada's famous creations. It appeals to her warped sense of humor.

  Huh?

  She creates these things, then sentences those taken for crimes to work on them. Soon there will be prisoners here, forced to eat according to their offenses.

  Forced to eat? You mean it's not poison or something?

  Tiana shook her head. No, not poison. But do not take it so lightly. For a major crime, you could be sentenced to eat out an entire living room, parlor, and two bedrooms. With a minor witch inducing a spell of gluttony, you could literally stuff yourself to death. It has been a traditional punishment with her ever since her great-grandmother was killed by a pair of bratty kids.

  Hmmm... Well, Joe said, I don't know about punishment, but I feel hungry enough to eat out a room or two myself. Shall we try it from the back? They'll never miss it.

  Tiana shrugged. We must have something. Why not? Marge, will you watch, just in case the prison gang approaches?

  Marge did, not being able to suppress a bad case of giggles, and they had gingerbread for breakfast. It wasn't very nutritious, but it was filling, and a small creek that ran through the clearing provided a little water with which to wash it down.

  I suppose that somewhere around are the poisoned apple groves, Marge commented when they were done.

  They are to the north, Tiana told her matter-of-factly. Not all are poisoned, though. There is one, for example, that is the most powerful aphrodisiac known. A fair amount of business is done by selling those throughout the region.

  Sounds like fun, Joe remarked.

  Esmerada has been known to feed them exclusively to people in adjoining cells of the tower dungeon, within sight of each other but just out of reach. They kill themselves trying to get at one another.

  Pleasant character. Was she here when your father was on top?

  Tiana nodded. Oh, yes. Witchwood was then essentially a buffer, and it was simply regarded as an autonomous region. The road was guaranteed, HI exchange for Esmerada's having her own way in the balance of the place. Once this was the seat of power for a great region and the place of learning for all black arts witches, but my father more or less limited her activities. Still, he thought they were as friendly as two great powers ever get, and there was a general compromise. She gained the Council with his help and support, as part of the deal which protected her and her order from others in Husaquahr. And look at how she repaid him!

  Well, let's see how—oops! Somebody's coming! Quickly the three of them checked out the brush, picked their spots, and barely got under cover in time. Joe hoped fervently that there were no more nasty vines around or other unpleasant surprises.

  The big surprise was what was passing along the road. They had expected an occasional Bentar patrol, but this was a fairly long column of twos, all human and obviously very military, yet all wearing ordinary clothing and carrying standard knapsacks or bedrolls on their saddles. With varying growths of hair and beard, they looked very much like the sort of people who might be met anywhere in this world, despite their bearing.

  When they had passed, the trio emerged from hiding. Joe scratched his head and frowned. Now what the hell was that?”

  There is no way to tell, the big woman responded, but clearly they are heading for the river and are in disguise. Something is going on, I will say that.

  Do you suppose it fits with the shortage of boats on the River of Sorrows ? Marge put in. The pirates caused the delay upstream, but we had to wait almost a week for ours from Zhimbombe. The Marquewooders just about said that the Barony was in league with the pirates. They have all this, so it's not the cargo they were really after. Maybe it's the riverboats they want.

  Now why would they want riverboats? Joe asked her. They'd have to take 'em apart and shove them overland to get them to any place useful to them.

  That may be, but it's still an idea. The Zhimbombean boat looked just like a worn-out Marquewoodian one. Maybe they're using their own boats for something else, huh?

  Yeah—but for what? he mused. Something's funny here.

  They pressed on, speculating but unable to add anything to the mystery. They still lacked too many pieces of the puzzle, and that was supposed to be Ruddygore's problem, anyway. They had other jobs.

  They finally found a spot concealed from the road that seemed safe enough to use as a camp and got s
ome sleep. Joe stood first watch, then Tiana, and finally, as shadows fell again upon the wood. Marge took her turn. It was well into the night before all were rested enough to continue, and the two humans were feeling very, very hungry.

  As they made their way again along the road. Marge suddenly called, Joe—look out! Above you!

  He stopped, turning and drawing his sword at the same time, and saw a menacing black shape leap at him from the treetops. Marge's warning had been well timed, and the thing missed Joe's dodging form and virtually impaled itself on his sword.

  It twitched a few times, then was still, and they all stared at it. An impaka, Tiana told them. It is a vicious, meat eating rodent. . Joe looked around nervously. Do they hunt in packs?

  No, they are usually solitary hunters. This one is a male and is probably a forager for a den. We might meet others, but we might not. Still, this is a very good omen for us.

  How's that?

  They are tough and gamy, but they taste very much like a cross between rabbit and squirrel.

  Joe looked at its nasty snout and dirty black hair and wondered just how hungry he was. Still, with Marge's scouting, they found a safe-looking spot and some branches for a crude spit. Tiana, using a spell she called a very simple thing, made a fire and then instructed Joe in the proper skinning and mounting of the beast.

  Although they were nervous about the fire being seen and reported, both Joe and Tiana were too hungry to care at that point, and the thing yielded close to eight pounds of meat. Marge found a plant with a bell-like flower that was stiff and permanently open, it seemed, and managed to locate and fill two bells with water and fly them back to the camp.

  Satiated, they proceeded along the road once more through the night, occasionally having to dodge an isolated patrol. They were aware of strange sounds within the wood and odd chants.

  Once in a while, white ball-like things floated through the trees deep inside the forest.

  Although they went mostly by night and slept most of the day, Tiana showed an uncanny ability near dawn and sunset to become perfectly still, often for up to an hour, waiting for a small animal or bird to come near, then quickly pounce and capture it. She came up with several rabbits, squirrels, a few unfamiliar but edible small animals, and even two fair-sized birds. When Marge and Joe asked about it, she simply told them to spend several years among the barbarian tribes of the north. There one learned such things or one starved.

  After more than three days of this, they reached the center of Witchwood and the Dark Tower. It lived up to its name in every respect and seemed not only ancient but downright sinister.

  The fortification surrounding it was shaped like a five-pointed star and rose about ten feet from the ground. There were gates in the wall at each of the inner angles, but it was clear from the paths to them that only two were actually in any sort of use these days. The walls themselves were patrolled by nasty looking Bentar sentries and by what sounded like a roving pack of equally nasty guard dogs. The tower itself stood in the center of the fort, rising over three hundred feet into the air. Here and there, windows were occasionally lighted with an inner glow.

  Marge tried flying up to the top and approaching the uppermost window, but she found that, as soon as she got to the start of the fortification part, there seemed to be an invisible wall that was impenetrable by living beings of any sort. This, then, was the sorcerous barrier that could be crossed only with the permission of those inside.

  Joe sighed when told the news. So what do we do now? Go up and knock?

  She is much too clever to fall for that, Tiana responded. Our identities, or at least our descriptions, must be known to them. She would understand in a moment our objective if we did that.

  That would go for being taken prisoner, too, then, Marge put in. So what do we do?

  Tiana suddenly had a thought. Joe—how long has it been since you were bitten? The moon looked almost full last night.

  He thought about it. Let's see... Two days later, we were still in Sachalin, then three days down the lake, another three laying over in Zichis, then four down to Tochik...

  Seven more stuck in that hole, then five downriver, Marge continued the count. How many is that?

  Twenty-four, Tiana told them. And we have now been five more in this land. Tonight will be the first night of the full moon, then. Marge—can you not see the curse coming forward?

  Marge looked at Joe, and, sure enough, in the bottommost part of the magic band, there was a faint but discernible black pattern. Yeah. What have you got in mind?

  First we spend the day here, within sight of the tower. Let us see who and what goes in and out of those gates. When we know that much, we can better make our plans.

  They did as she suggested, finding an uncomfortable but adequate concealment near the gate facing them, while Marge, grumpy about being kept up all day but nonetheless curious, staked out a convenient tree near the other gate. In midafternoon they met to compare notes.

  Well, let's see, not counting the dozen or so witches on broomsticks flying in and out from the top of the tower, we have a half-dozen Bentar, two ogres, five humans, and four fairies of unknown but various types, Marge summed up. Where does that get us?

  In, perhaps, Tiana said. I do wish we knew the exact time of sundown, though. It would be a great help. She looked at the sky. Perhaps three more hours. The moon is already full, so the transformation- will be directly at sundown, which is a help. Marge—more work, I fear. We must pray that the good spirits remain with us and that a target of opportunity presents itself.

  They fell back about a quarter of a mile from the tower and waited while Marge continued to scout the area. She returned as sundown was almost upon them and they had just about given up being able to put the plan into operation that night. Rider coming. Bentar on a big black horse. I think it's one of those that left earlier today.

  Tiana nodded. It will have to do. Joe, get into position. I'm going to lure it your way if possible.

  Joe drew his sword and got behind a tree just inside the forest. Tiana and he had gone over this many times, but he was still uncertain about it and still apprehensive about all that could go wrong. The sun was almost gone, and it would be cutting things very close indeed, even if all went well.

  The Bentar came along the road, dressed in full armor, a huge, muscular, man-shaped bird with nasty eyes. It was looking pretty well straight ahead, but Tiana made enough of a commotion to attract it by the simple expedient of seeming to trip over a vine and cursing.

  The Bentar officer glanced quickly in her direction and did not hesitate. Dismounting and drawing its sword at the same time, it proceeded cautiously into the woods, being as quiet as a creature as large as it was could be.

  Tiana had gotten up and taken cover behind a tree, but she was careful to leave just a part of leg exposed to view. The Bentar, after checking the area, suddenly spotted it; while the great birdlike head remained expressionless as always, a tiny forked tongue ran out of its mouth and along its beak in anticipation. Slowly, carefully, the Bentar soldier crept toward the tree that almost concealed her, passing several other trees at the same time. After it passed one particularly large specimen, Joe, still unseen, brought down the flat of his sword on top of the Bentar's bronze helmet, and the creature toppled over, groaned once, then lay still.

  Tiana quickly rushed over to the fallen soldier, checked, and nodded to Joe. Hurry, she told him.

  I'd still rather be the Bentar, he muttered, but he went out to the road all the same. They had gone over and over this, and the way they were doing it was the safest and surest way to do what had to be done.

  Marge held and pacified the large horse, but backed off when Joe approached. He looked around nervously, not quite knowing what to expect, or even whether this wasn't something rather stupid. It certainly looked dark enough to him, if this curse thing were really true. He just stood there, petting the horse, and hoped that all would go well.

  There was a sudden, o
dd blurring of vision and the fleeting feeling that he was on fire; then it was over. Marge rushed out, looking very happy, and she and Tiana hurriedly removed the saddle, pack, and bridle from the Bentar's horse—and put them on Joe, who was now that horse's twin.

  Only his prior experience as a bull, when he'd had an encounter with a Circean, kept him calm and cool. In point of fact, being a horse felt, well, right somehow.

  The two women barely got the original horse out of sight before there was a great stamping and cursing in an inhuman language issuing from the brush. Joe turned his horse's head and saw the Bentar, dizzy and rubbing its head, manage to make its way out to the road. It headed for what it believed was its horse. Just before mounting, it turned unexpectedly and shouted, in the universal language, back at the forest, All right—you have had your little victory! Enjoy it! None of you shall leave Witchwood alive, and your fate will be most unpleasant! With that the Bentar mounted the horse and urged it slowly forward.

  Joe had been uneasy that he wouldn't know how to react, but he found that his duplicate horse's body felt like and reacted just like the original. They approached the gate nearest the ambush spot, and the Bentar reined him in and called out, Guards! Open the gate! I have important news! This was followed by several under-the-breath curses in the odd-sounding Bentar tongue, but Joe didn't think he needed a translation.

  Despite the sorcerous protections, the place was as well guarded as any fort, and two sentries appeared atop the wall with crossbows aimed at the outsider, while a small peephole in the gate itself slid back to reveal a pair of eyes, then slid shut again. There were muffled commands given, dogs barked furiously, and the double gate of bronze and wood opened inward. The Bentar rode into the castle at this, and Joe was relieved to find no barrier to his own passage. He had been worried about what constituted an invitation and had feared that he would be stopped at the entrance while the Bentar sailed through.

  They entered a courtyard that was larger than Joe had expected by what could be seen from the forest. Two female grooms ran to take the bridle and halter as the Bentar dismounted. The soldier then went immediately to a nearby tower entrance and stalked inside, while the grooms led Joe to a stable had been prepared. He was mildly annoyed that he'd found that the wipe and brush felt really good, and he started in on the hay without thinking about it. In fact, it wasn't until he'd eaten his fill and relieved himself in true horse fashion that he bothered to think much at all. He tried the welcome invitation, but found that only a contented neighing issued forth; that brought a curious groom, who petted his head and fed him a lump of sugar, but nothing else. There seemed little to do but try to catch some sleep and hope both that he awakened before dawn and that the Bentar didn't want to go back out that night on him.