"Well, I still think we ought to help her, damn it!" the boy cried. "We can't just leave her when we might help."
Marge sighed. "I seem to remember that this is what got Joe going in this same direction. If I didn't know better, I'd say somebody on high has a one-track mind and not much imagination. Okay, I'll see what I can do. There's not a lot of time left, you know. We've already passed the other ship on this line heading back to Husaquahr, which means we're more than halfway there. That'll get us in at worst the day after tomorrow—or, more accurately, the night after tomorrow night, probably an hour after sunset. That doesn't leave us a lot of leeway, and we have to contact her and see if she wants to be helped before we can do anything else."
He was shocked. "Of course she wants to be helped! Why wouldn't she?"
"If she's guilt-ridden for what happened to her parents, or maybe just flipped out by it all and resigned, or maybe not as pure and clean as we thought—there's lots of reasons. She might even just not believe that there is any hope at all and refuse in order to spare us part of her curse."
"And what about Poquah? If we get involved with her, he's gonna throw a fit."
"Let him. He's a warrior and a sorcerer, and his lot is sneaky by instinct. Maybe it's time he put a little of those old skills to work as well as the new. But why bother him until we can speak with her? And if we can't, it's kind of out of our hands."
"We got to get to her, then! One of us! We just got to!"
Marge sighed. "I'm a sucker for this kind of thing myself, and it always causes problems. Oh, well ... I just wish they told us what kind of a curse that fellow Lothar came up with that could even screw up a demon."
As it turned out, it was Marge who had the next chance at contact with the strange girl, and she was glad it was she and not Irving who did. It was pretty easy to see how the kid could be pretty intimidating, but a faerie, a female, and one of unknown but beautiful appearance did engender more curiosity than threat.
Truth to tell, though, Marge was pretty damned happy to see Irving acting like a normal teenage human being. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
It was just before dawn again, as before, but because he'd stayed up so late with Marge the night before and had been so excited, Irving hadn't arisen when he'd intended, and Marge was on her own.
She suspected that the girl came up every morning before dawn, and she could understand why. This ship with all its dangers was probably least dangerous at this very time, when all the possible mischief from the dark had been done and denizens were going to their rest lest the sun strike them but before the kraken and the ghouls and demons of the day began their less threatening but still intimidating shifts. It had to lift the spirits of somebody as stuck as the girl was just to watch the magnificence of the sun break over the horizon, filling the world with warmth, light, and glory.
Marge flew up and settled down comfortably on a bulkhead just behind and above the girl, who was staring out at the sea, watching the first small streaks appear signaling first false, then true dawn.
"It's the best part of the day, isn't it?" she said casually, conversationally, as if speaking to a friend.
The girl jumped, whirled around, then spotted the Kauri with her butterfly wings perched sexily above. "Oh! I did not see you!"
"I'm sorry I startled you. I kinda like this myself, to tell the truth. I'm stuck as basically a night creature, and this ship's pretty damned depressing most of the time. I think if I hear that Tiliki Li Revue one more time, I'll blow this thing up."
"You—you're not one of them?"
"Not hardly. Or at least not exactly. Faerie is faerie, and mostly we're neutral. We sit around and do our own things and watch you folks do your own things and shake our heads. Some take sides, mostly on the dark side. More immediate power even if you face oblivion when the Final Judgment comes, if and when it ever does. The Kauri take no sides in the affairs of mortals or in the Heaven versus Hell battle, but occasionally individuals like me do. I like to think I'm on the good side, but mostly I'm doin' favors for old friends, like now."
"I—I'm one of them. Not that I wish to be or that I had any choice, but sometimes fate does that to people. At the moment my soul is still my own; it is only my body that they own. How long I can keep that is the question I ask myself."
"I got to admit, you have more spells and curses on you than I ever saw before on anybody. Still, you're heading in the right direction, if you can believe it, if you want any crack at getting rid of that shit."
"What?" The girl acted as if she didn't understand the words.
"Yuggoth. I know the reputation, and I think we'll both find it lives up to that, but in all that crud there's something that can make wishes come true, and its power is pretty awesome. My friends and I are after it. That's why we're here."
There had been a glimmer of hope in the girl's face, but at this news, instead of being elated and encouraged, she seemed to deflate into despair once more. "So you're on a treasure hunt," she said simply.
"In a way, yes. But we have some advantages most others don't. For one thing, we aren't after it for ourselves. My companions and I are reasonably satisfied. We're doing it because a good and powerful friend asked us to and because the father of one of us, the boy you might have seen around here, vanished down there trying to help somebody else on the same quest."
"So that's— Uh, so now you're all going down there and you'll vanish, too?"
"I hope not. I've been in this spot before and succeeded. You can't believe the things I've seen and done with some of the same companions and in the service of the same sorcerer."
"Which sorcerer is that?"
"He calls himself Ruddygore of Terindell here. He is on the Council and is overall a good man who's kept a lot of evil from taking over this world. Ever heard of him?"
"I have heard the name mentioned once or twice. I know he is powerful and of the north but little else. I have little use for sorcerers. They are too clever for their own good."
"I understand that one saved you from being sacrificed," Marge noted, trying to verify as much of the story as possible.
"That is true, although I do not know where you heard this. It was not a favor. Had he not intervened, then my parents would still be themselves and I would be dead but my soul would be pure and free. In trying to help me, all of them did themselves harm and me most of all, since I am condemned to a life under these sorts of demons and villains."
Marge was actually impressed with the girl's attitude. Maybe there was somebody here worth saving, just as Irving suspected. "You aren't just looking at sunrises, then? You have thought of throwing yourself into the sea?"
The girl returned a sour chuckle. "It is all I think about, but it is impossible. For one thing, one cannot fall from this boat. It is—prevented. But even if this were not so, I could not. I am under a geas. It prevents me from even doing myself deliberate harm until it is fulfilled."
Marge understood the dilemma more than most. "But if you do fulfill it, you will probably lose your soul."
The girl nodded. "You see that they did me no favor in saving my life. For what? Now they suffer, and I am truly lost."
Marge gave her a thoughtful half smile as the sun broke over the water and said, "Not necessarily. Alone, I can agree with you, but as part of a group you can find some chance of success. It's called joining a Company, and it's very plain in the Rules. If we get what we're after, Ruddygore can use it to reverse even the dictates of Hell. I've seen it done before. Even Hell plays by the Rules here—sort of."
"What makes you think you can succeed where the boy's father failed?"
Marge shrugged. "First, I don't know if he did or if he's just out of sight and stalking it. He's lost from our point of view but probably not from his own. Second, because I've been up against dragons and monsters and evil demonic princes and zombies and the rest, and no matter how hopeless it seemed, we won. Third, because it's in Hell's interest for us to win, too. What we're afte
r solves a problem for them as well. I think they'll help more than hinder us in getting it. It's only after that that we'll need to watch our backs."
"What can the likes of you and your companions do that all the legions of Hell cannot?" the girl asked skeptically.
"A very good question," Marge admitted. "I'm the first to tell you that I don't know the answer to it and that it'll be one of the big surprises at the end of this journey to perhaps find that out. One thing at a time. I'm offering you a chance to come with us. No strings attached, no conditions, and only the obligation of being one of the group, and that is helping where and when you can."
"And this Company is you, the elf, and the boy I have seen?" She didn't exactly sound overwhelmed.
Marge had a certain level of sympathy and understanding for somebody in the girl's predicament—she'd gone through an awful lot at that age—but there was a limit to this. "I just made the offer, and that's all. You can either throw in with us and maybe, just maybe, get out of this if you're a good team player and you work with us, or you can leave, follow your compulsive spells into Yuggoth, and go to your inevitable doom. Never say life isn't full of choices but don't start talking down to gift horses, either. You're just a complication on my job; we'd probably have a little easier time without you and particularly without somebody who feels the way you do toward us. My elfin companion—an Imir, by the way, and quite a dangerous breed—wants us to forget you. The boy wants you included. Since I like the boy and I've been in a few tight spots like yours myself, I'm on his side at the moment, but that's subject to change."
She started to move off her perch and actually turned a bit away from the girl. It was no mock move; she was out of patience and felt absolutely no guilt over her attitude. Given a choice between a chance at life, however slim and improbable, and certain doom, it would take a fool to turn it down. You could get killed traveling with fools through dangerous territory.
"Wait! Please—do not go. Not yet."
It was said so softly and so plaintively that Marge froze, turned, and looked back down at the girl. The Kauri was beginning to feel the lethargy of daylight and knew that it wouldn't be long before she'd have to force herself to stay awake and alert, but this was worth the discomfort.
"I am of the night," she told the girl. "I have no more time today, and I do not audition for the role of helper. The boy thinks like a boy: he sees somebody in trouble, and his innate sense of justice says to help. I see somebody in trouble, and my instinct is to offer some help, too. But neither of us, neither one of us, will audition to please anyone. His father was a king once, and I never called him anything but his first name. Consider yourself on probation here, not us. If you are interested, see the boy today or contact me here either just after dusk or just before dawn. I'll discuss this no more this morning. I need only remind you that we put in to Yuggoth tomorrow night, and the powers that draw you one way and us another will rise even greater."
"No, wait! I—" But it was too late; the Kauri had taken off and flown to the other side of the ship and was gone from sight.
From a point at which all had been predetermined except the details, Larae suddenly had no idea just what to do. The logic that Marge had seen as so simple wasn't quite so simple from her side, even though it was clearly in front of her. If only the boy wasn't involved ... !
She didn't like being out after the sun had set, when things might roam this ship and search for sport, nor did she feel comfortable having a conversation with so many chances of it reaching the wrong ears. But tomorrow morning, here, in the period between false and true dawn, when those same creatures did not want to chance being caught out on deck but when both she and the Kauri could speak, then she would lay it all out and the final decision on this be taken. There was no other way.
Marge was as good as her word and wasn't all that surprised to see the girl show up that final morning at sea.
It wasn't the same nice weather as before, though. Clouds covered the sea to the horizon on all sides save due north, and there were dark and fuzzy patches all over, often glowing as if they had inner fires burning, showing that this was going to be a rough last day, particularly when the gaunts settled in for the morning and the kraken took over. Already the waves were breaking over the bow and the sea looked fierce; where they were headed, it seemed as if it could only get worse. A fitting approach to a legendary land of dread, though, if Marge did say so herself.
Much more disturbing than the weather, though, was the same scene in faerie sight. On that level, the sky was even more animated, the clouds all purple and black and alive, moving about at frantic speeds and seeming to converge on a distant point just to the southwest. Such a sight Marge couldn't remember seeing since the great war that had climaxed her first great adventure here, and even that had had less power than this scene represented.
"It looks like storms," the girl remarked, much subdued from their previous meeting.
"In more ways than one. If you had faerie sight, you might be really chilled. I just wonder if this is normal for these parts or if it, too, is part of this new element. Poquah will know." I'll have to talk to him anyway, since I haven't really mentioned you, yet, she thought a bit nervously.
"I—I wish to join you," Larae told the Kauri. "As you pointed out, there is little choice considering the alternative. I still do not see how this will be done, but I am willing to try, although only under conditions I hope you will not find unusual."
"Conditions?" Hadn't she learned yet that she wasn't in much of a position to make terms?
"Yes. Simple ones. I will be one of you, no more. I will do my part or whatever is asked of me in the course of a journey, but that is all. I do not want the boy to expect more or think in terms of some romantic fable."
Marge nodded. "I see. Actually, I doubt if you have to worry much about that. I know he has an unnatural attraction, but he's also got a spell that keeps him honest, even chaste. There's no guarantee that such a spell will hold up where we're going, but he's no threat on that score, I don't think. If he gets out of control in that department, it'll be from ignorance, not malice, and I'm pretty sure you can defend yourself against the likes of that. Black magic, sorcery—that's something else, but we'll have to cross that bridge if and when we come to it. Fair enough?"
"Fair enough," she agreed. "But what did you mean by him having an unnatural attraction?'
"You didn't feel it when you saw him? Hell, even I felt it, and I'm not supposed to. That's my kind of power, and consciously done, not something somebody has over me. Took help of a magical sort to insulate me. You really don't feel it?"
"Not a thing."
Marge frowned. "That curse of yours—it doesn't have you lusting after women, does it?"
Larae looked shocked, even appalled. "Of course not!"
"Hmmm ... Well, it was a thought. Um, out of curiosity, you want to tell me what this big-shot sorcerer did that screwed even a demon? If there's anything sitting out there that might cause me trouble later, I want to know it now."
"I—it would not affect any of you in any way. It is strictly upon me and is much too embarrassing for me to really talk about, much less reveal. I swear to you that it will in no way affect you or the others unless the boy really does lack self-control. That is the one danger and is why I hesitated before."
"Hmmm ... So I should warn him, I guess. In fact, that might be enough to dampen whatever might be waking up inside him. Curses are really nasty, and he's seen the results of some of them. You've got me curious, but it's your right and I'll take your word that it's nothing that need concern us insofar as our goal is concerned. Okay. That leaves us with what we do immediately after we get off this tub and what happens then. Just what are you supposed to do?'
"I do not know. I was compelled to come this far, but I feel nothing in terms of a specific action at the moment except that I must somehow get to a strange place that exists only in a mind picture of a great mountain out of which has been carved a m
assive gatelike structure that can open to let people enter its darkness. I know what it looks like but not where it is, save that it is in Yuggoth somewhere."
"Well, it's called the Dantean Gate, if that's any help. Dante was the first name of a man from long ago who wrote three books claiming to be accounts of his trip as a living person through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. It was fiction but, like much fiction of this type, appears to have had its dream roots in a real place here. I think you're seeing in your mind where a lot of the poor souls chained below are headed—the gates to Hell."
'The Dantean Gate ... Yes, it sounds right. I must go there and present myself, but I do not wish to go there. Is it by any chance close to where you are headed?"
"I doubt it. If I remember the directions, we're heading straight toward the middle of the continent, then off to the south to a creepy volcanic range. The Dantean Gate is in the jagged mountain range to the far west. Still, you have nothing save the image? Nobody is with you or supposed to meet you?"
DG5 - Horrors of the Dancing Gods Page 18