Bearing an Hourglass

by Piers Anthony

  She gazed at him from beneath long silver lashes. "Well, now, Hero," she said huskily, inhaling.

  "Uh—I take it you are the Evil Sorceress?"

  "The same," she breathed. She had remarkable breath control.

  "And I found you by capturing the glow?"

  "Naturally." She shifted her décolletage.

  "You don't seem so horrendous to me."

  "The legend was doubtless exaggerated."

  "But I must slay you, lest you turn me into slime?"

  She nodded, sending a ripple through her flesh. "However, there is no need to rush it, Hero." She shifted position on the bed, and more flesh showed.

  Sning squeezed his finger warningly. Yes, he was supposed to slay her.

  "Here, I will bare the target for you," she said, shrugging partway out of her upper clothing, so that her front was exposed. "The point right here." She touched a spot between her amazing breasts.

  But how could he? This was no toothy little monster; this was a living, breathing (!) human being, lovely beyond belief, and he was no murderer.

  Squeeze!

  "I can't," Norton said, dropping the Sword.

  "I knew you couldn't do it," the Evil Sorceress murmured as the Sword clattered on the floor. "You are an innocent male fool." She lifted one sleek arm, her forefinger coming to point at him.

  Sning uncurled convulsively and sprang through the air to land on her outstretched hand. The little snake buried his tiny fangs in the Evil Sorceress' finger.

  "Oh, snot!" she exclaimed, jerking her finger aside as she felt the puncture. A silvery flash jumped from it, just missing Norton, and struck the ceiling. Immediately the ceiling turned to slime and began to drool down toward the floor.

  "Oooh, you little creep!" she screamed at Sning. "I'll bite your head off!" And she brought her hand to her mouth, where sharply pointed teeth now showed between the blood-red lips.

  But Sning was already wriggling away. He dropped to the bed and thrashed toward Norton. The Evil Sorceress slammed her fist down at the little snake's body and grabbed for him with her claws. She gouged out chunks of bedding, but Sning squiggled aside and off the bed, landing on the Sword. The Sorceress flopped on her front and grabbed for him again; the Sword glowed menacingly as her hand came near it, and she had to desist. She could not touch the Sword, so Sning was safe.

  Already Sning's poison was taking effect. Norton had understood that the little snake's bite would not kill a human being, yet it seemed it was more potent against a truly evil person. The Evil Sorceress' finger glowed red and swelled like a sausage. But the change in the rest of her was more striking.

  Her lovely facial features melted into homely ones. Her breathtaking bare bosom became baggy, her stunning cleavage a wrinkled crevice. Her sleek arms and smooth fleshed thighs became flabby limbs. Now, stripped of her enchantment, she was revealed as an ugly old crone.

  Shocked, Norton watched as she died. This was almost as bad as the dissolution of the Bem had been during his visit to the space opera of the globular cluster, far away. He marveled at the transformation from beauty to ugliness; how could he ever have found that thing attractive? Another part of him was more cerebral; why, he wondered, was it so much easier to watch an ugly old crone die than a lovely young woman? The two were separated only by age. He knew that goodness and evil could not be judged by appearance, yet his mind felt more comfortable now that he knew the Evil Sorceress was in reality ugly.

  The transformation continued. After turning ugly, the Evil Sorceress began to melt. She dissolved into a puddle of slime, exactly as had the Bem.

  Then the castle itself melted. Chunks of it dissolved and collapsed. Norton had to dodge a segment that fell from above. The walls thinned and sagged.

  Hastily he scooped up Sning and the Enchanted Sword and scrambled to escape the developing ruin. Soon he was able to spot Excelsia and the Elf in their separate chamber; they had been hard pressed by the mouth monsters, but had survived by diligent exercise of her stiletto and his active boots.

  Norton forged across to join them. "Come on—we've got to get out of here before the whole thing falls on us!"

  "About time you showed up!" the Elf grumped. They scrambled out, dodging the slimy chunks. As they made it to the greensward at the rear patio, the entire remainder of the castle fell in with a grotesque sucking sound.

  "Ugh!" Excelsia exclaimed expressively. "Good thing you slew the Evil Sorceress," the Elf said. "I knew we were going to get slimed if she won."

  "I didn't slay her, actually," Norton confessed. "I lacked the nerve. Sning did it." The Damsel cocked her head at him. "You are no Hero?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  "But he's an honest man," the Elf said. "The Enchanted Sword goes for that kind, too, in a pinch." Unpersuaded, Excelsia turned away. Norton stood diminished in her eyes.

  They continued into the estate. The land here was lovely, with pleasant little paths winding along among fruit trees. "Oh, let's pause for refreshment!" Excelsia said, reaching for a bright red apple.

  Squeeze, SQUEEZE!

  Norton jumped across and dashed the apple from her hand. "Poison!" he cried. Indeed, the moment the apple touched ground, it smoldered as if being eaten from inside by some horrible acid, then burst into flame.

  Excelsia stared at it, wide-eyed. "Yes, of course," she agreed faintly. "Everything belonging to the Evil Sorceress would be poison to ordinary folk. So silly of me to forget."

  "What about the Alicorn?" Norton asked.

  "Oh, he does not belong to her," she said quickly. "He is her captive, not her creature."

  That seemed to make sense. They walked on through the poisonous orchard. Soon the terrain opened out into a circular valley whose center was a mound. On the mound was a palisade—an enclosure surrounded by a tight fence of sharpened stakes that hid whatever was inside. But Excelsia knew. "Therein—the Alicorn!" she breathed rapturously.

  There was, however, a more immediate concern. From the far side of the mound galloped a horrendous red Dragon. This was one of the centipede variety; it had fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs and a long spiked tail, while black smoke snorted from its mouth.

  Norton stepped forward. "This is my job," he said. It wasn't that he relished the prospect of doing battle with the Dragon; it was that he knew it was better to face the thing than to be run down from behind. Gawain had taught him that. "Never let a dragon see your rear," the ghost had cautioned. "It will either toast it or take a bite out of it, or both." Also, Norton was sure Excelsia would be easy and delectable prey for the Dragon, and he couldn't permit her to be hurt. If he got killed here, he would be wafted back to Earth, unharmed—he had the word of the Father of Lies on that. But the Damsel had no such assurance.

  The word of the Father of Lies. There was something about that notion that bothered him.

  The Dragon swerved to meet him head-on. It was therefore a stupid creature; the smart ones were more careful, taking time to scout and sniff, for scarce was the man who braved such a monster without the benefit of some potent enchantment. All the background Gawain had drilled into him was coming to the fore now, and for the first time he really appreciated it. So much of dragon fighting was tactics! One had to grasp the nature of the beast and exploit its weaknesses; a man was smarter than a reptile, usually, and that could count.

  The Dragon was indeed large, as the Damsel had warned him. Its mass was elephantine. It blew out a tongue of orange flame—and Norton jumped aside. Gawain had prepared him for this, too; fire-breathers always blasted first, hoping to toast their prey conveniently before coming within range of the prey's defenses. This was virtually instinctive; they were not smart enough to reason it out. But they had to inhale deeply first—and so Norton had watched for the expansion of the torso and had moved the moment the contraction occurred. It was as if he had been in this business all his life, thanks to the ghost.

  An instant after the fireshot, the Dragon was beside him, snapping at the spot where N
orton had stood. Naturally Norton had dodged aside again, avoiding the teeth. It was amazing how easy it was. Of course, he had the benefit of much smaller mass, so could move much less predictably than the behemoth could. He knew what to do now; he rammed the point of the Sword into the monster's passing ear. This was intended to penetrate to the creature's token brain and kill it.

  Unfortunately, Norton's reflexes weren't as good as his knowledge. He failed to allow sufficiently for the Dragon's velocity, and the Sword struck behind the ear and sliced away several scales and severed a neck muscle or two. Blood gouted as the Sword jerked clear of the wound.

  Pain-maddened, the Dragon braked all fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs and screeched to a halt. Norton knew he was in for it; a careless man seldom got a chance for a second stroke. The Dragon whirled, becoming unconscionably agile for its mass, and brought its head about to snap at Norton's tasty rear.

  Norton whirled himself, slicing desperately at the Dragon's nose. He scored, but not perfectly; the blade lopped off the tip. But that didn't stop the creature, which thrust the bloody snout at him and knocked him down.

  On his back, Norton made one more attempt. He whipped the Sword up to stab at the monster's eye. This time his aim was good, for the Dragon was almost stationary. The point sank into the huge orb and found the tiny brain behind. One ordinary blade could not have done it, for the orb was surrounded by bony armor, but this one's enchantment sliced through the bone.

  The Dragon went crazy. Its brain wasn't much, but it did need the thing to work its jaws and similar sundry tasks. It yanked its head up, blood jetting from the eye socket and splattering Norton. The great body threshed. Norton rolled out of the way. The creature flopped over onto its back and lay there, with all fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs twitching in the air. The Dragon was in its death throes—but its blind reflexes could still kill Norton.

  "Oh, you're so brave, after all!" Excelsia exclaimed, clapping her hands. She approached Norton, evidently thinking to embrace him; then she saw the gore on him and desisted, wrinkling her pert nose distastefully. "Couldn't you have done it a little more neatly?" she asked plaintively.

  Norton brushed himself off as well as he could and slid the blade of the Sword along the greensward to clean it. Now it shone more brightly than ever, and he wasn't sure it was only the cleaning that accounted for this. It certainly was an excellent weapon.

  "Well, one hurdle to go," the Elf said briskly. "Let's get on with it."

  Norton, battered, tired, and gunked with gore, would have preferred a rest break. Heroism wasn't an ideal life! The final challenge—the steed no one could tame! He hoped the Damsel wasn't headed for disappointment. Women liked horses—but a unicorn was no ordinary horse, and the Alicorn was no ordinary unicorn. This creature could be more dangerous than the Dragon.

  They marched up the mound to the palisade. There was no gate in it; the wall of stakes formed a tight enclosure. Inside was grim silence.

  "Sirrah, use your blade to open a gate," Excelsia told Norton. "I shall not be barred from my steed!"

  Norton put his hand on the hilt of the Sword, then hesitated. "A gate that let us in would also let the Alicorn out," he said. "Maybe we should peek over the top first."

  "That's using your noggin," the Elf agreed. "In fact, let's poke up a hat."

  "A hat?" Excelsia asked, her fair brow furrowing. The Elf removed his hat from his head. His skull was almost bald, now that it showed. "Balance it on the end of the Sword." Norton extended the Sword, and the Elf set the hat on the tip.

  Norton lifted the hat slowly up beside the palisade, while Excelsia tapped her dainty foot impatiently, "This be sheerest nonsense, sirrah! What think ye a hat can see?"

  The palisade points were about eight feet above the ground. Norton elevated the hat beyond that point—and abruptly there was a ferocious squeal, and a spear thrust through the hat and withdrew.

  Spear? No, that was the horn of the Alicorn! Norton brought down the hat, lifted it from the Sword, and gravely handed it back to the Elf. The Elf held it before his little face and sighted through the twin holes in it at the Damsel. No one spoke.

  That was one unfriendly equine creature in there! They retreated a reasonable distance and considered. "Probably the Evil Sorceress abused him," Norton suggested. "That made the Alicorn mean."

  "Nay, he be merely untame," Excelsia said, but her voice lacked conviction. That strike had been too swift and sure, too vicious, after such complete silence. The Alicorn had to have been listening to them, pacing them, biding his time, concealing his awareness until he had the chance to strike. Had he been able to understand their dialogue, he would have known the hat trick was coming, but he was only a cunning animal. Cunning and savage.

  "That animal will kill ye, lassie," the Elf warned her.

  "Oh, no, unicorns never harm my kind," she insisted.

  "This be no ordinary unicorn," he reminded her.

  The Damsel acknowledged this logic by bursting into maidenly tears. "Oh, woe!" she cried. "How may I tame the untamable?"

  Norton exchanged a glance with the Elf. Obviously they had to come up with something. "Isn't there supposed to be a magic Word?" Norton asked.

  Excelsia brightened instantly. "The Word! We must find the Word!"

  The Elf frowned. "If there be a Word, why did not the Evil Sorceress use it to tame the beast?"

  "She didn't know it!" Excelsia said.

  "Neither do we."

  "But we shall find it!"

  Norton sighed to himself. The Evil Sorceress had had years to search out the Word and had evidently failed. How could they succeed in an hour?

  But the Damsel was threatening to cloud up again. "I guess we'll just have to guess at it," he said. "We can stand outside the enclosure and shout words until we come to the right one."

  "Why didn't the Evil Sorceress do that?" the Elf asked.

  "She didn't think of it!" Excelsia said eagerly. Again Norton was doubtful. The Evil Sorceress had struck him as smart and ruthless. She had surely wanted to ride the Alicorn, otherwise she would not have held him captive. Her power would have been enhanced if she could have used that magical steed. Yet she had failed.

  Was there really a magic Word? Or was that only a myth?

  He looked at Excelsia and knew he couldn't tell her there was no Word. So they would have to try it.

  They stood in a line and called words at random. "Valor!" the Elf cried bravely. "Beauty!" Excelsia bespoke prettily. "Uncertainty..." Norton muttered doubtfully.

  The other two glanced sharply at him, and he was abashed.

  They tried another round. "Courage!" the Elf cried. "Modesty," Excelsia murmured. "Time," Norton said.

  Again the other two glanced askance at him. "Well," he said awkwardly, "the Word could be anything. Maybe the Sorceress only tried conventional words. How do we know? Maybe 'time' was it."

  Indeed, the silence continued inside the enclosure. "We are at risk of taming him without knowing it," the Elf said. "We must test it."

  "We know how," Norton said. He borrowed the Elf's hat again and poked it up above the palisade.

  Nothing happened. "Can it be?" Excelsia asked, her eyes glowing and her bosom heaving with hope.

  Norton wasn't sure. "Let's try something else." He cast about, and finally removed his shirt and draped it on the blade of the Sword. Then he poked that up, wiggling it to make it seem lifelike.

  The horn speared it.

  "That infernal creature tried to trick us!" the Elf said indignantly. "He pretended to be tame and then struck."

  "And he was too canny to fall for the same lure twice," Norton agreed. "We have a real problem here."

  Even the Damsel was sobered by this. "We must get closer to him," she decided. "So we can see him react to our words."

  It was a good suggestion, but impractical. They could not see the Alicorn without entering this enclosure, and that would be suicidal before they discovered the Word.

  "Why does
not the beast break down the wall?" the Elf asked irritably. "He plainly has the means."

  Excellent question! If the Alicorn could spear a target above the palisade, he could surely spear the palisade itself.

  But Excelsia had the answer. "He be tethered, of course. So he can't fly out."

  "Then why have an enclosure at all?" the Elf asked. He seemed to have a considerable practical streak. Excelsia cocked her head and shrugged.

  But this time Norton had the answer. "To keep the Dragon out. The Evil Sorceress wouldn't have wanted those two creatures fighting. With the Alicorn tethered, he would be at a disadvantage against the Dragon and might get eaten. That must be why he doesn't punch holes in the fence or kick it down. He doesn't want the fires of the Dragon to come in. Not while he can't escape. And the Dragon was too stupid to realize he could bash or burn down the palisade."

  The Elf nodded. "Then we can take down the wall." No sooner realized than done. Norton hacked out a section and stood clear as it fell outward with a resounding crash. Now at last they had a view of the interior.

  The Alicorn stood there—and a magnificent creature he was. He stood about seventeen hands at the shoulder, with two enormous white wings rising from that shoulder region and a gleaming black horn at his forehead. The rest of him was a burnished red, not the shade of blood but the hue of fire. He fairly gleamed, and his eyes stared back at them with a disconcerting awareness. Dumb animal? Unlikely!

  He was indeed tethered. A silver chain was locked to his right hind leg and anchored to a silver stake. Silver, of course, was resistant to magic; that was why the Alicorn could not break it. The Evil Sorceress had stooped to mundane means to pen him.

  "Oh, you Noble Creature!" Excelsia exclaimed, walking toward the Alicorn with arms outstretched. "All my young, pretty, innocent, and genteel life I have longed for the like of you!"

  "Don't do that!" Norton cried, suddenly realizing that the Damsel was mesmerized by the beauty of the beast. But she was already stepping within range.

  The Alicorn never hesitated. He lowered his horn and leaped to the limit of his tether. The terrible horn stabbed right through the Damsel's body and withdrew so rapidly that the Alicorn seemed hardly to have moved. But now there was blood on the horn, and Excelsia collapsed, her blood pouring out. She had been speared neatly through her maidenly heart.