Bearing an Hourglass

by Piers Anthony

  Norton was frozen for an instant in shock. Then he drew his Sword and charged the Alicorn.

  "Don't do that!" the Elf cried, exactly as Norton had. But he, too, was too late. Norton stepped within range.

  The Alicorn charged, the deadly horn leveling. The Sword sliced down. The blade severed the horn at its midpoint.

  Blood gouted from the stump of the horn. The creature stiffened, then collapsed beside the woman, mixing his blood with hers.

  "You fool!" the Elf cried. "Now ye have two deaths for one—and what be gained?"

  Norton gazed at the bodies. For a moment he seemed to see Orlene, collapsed at her piano. What had he gained, indeed! He had been as much a fool as Excelsia had been and had only magnified the damage by his thoughtless violence. This gallant quest of his—he had converted it to disaster. Some fantasy hero he was!

  Of course, he realized that he was not a fantasy hero. He was Chronos, Master of Time, with a job to do back on Earth. Why had he allowed the Devil to distract him like this? He should never have deluded himself about his position.

  Chronos? Of course—there was the answer! He brought out the Hourglass and turned the sand red. He reversed time for the immediate region and willed the sand to flow up. That left himself out of the change.

  The Alicorn trembled, then righted himself, collapsing to his feet. Blood gouted back into his horn. The severed end of the horn flew back into place. A moment later, the Damsel was unpunctured, and walked blithely backward out of the compound. Then the palisade became unbacked. Since Norton had excluded himself from this reversal, he was both standing apart and participating, backward. So he moved to rejoin his prior self, merging, then stilled the sand and returned to normal time. All was well again.

  "Never have I seen the like!" the Elf exclaimed. "You are a Sorcerer!"

  Oops—he had forgotten to include the Elf in the reversal. The little man had seen it all and remembered it. Well, it wasn't as if there was supposed to be any secret. "I'm not a sorcerer; I'm Chronos."

  "What are you talking about?" Excelsia demanded.

  "It's complicated to explain," Norton said.

  "Then don't bother. Go ahead and hack down the wall."

  The Elf pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. "Damsel, ye know not what ye ask."

  "I want to see that divine steed!" she insisted.

  "I don't think that's wise," Norton said.

  "But we know he's tethered!"

  "Better explain, Wizard," the Elf said.

  "Wizard?" Excelsia demanded. "Riddles again, belike?"

  "I am afraid," Norton said carefully, "that if I open this wall and let you see the Alicorn, you will be so smitten by him that you will walk right into his horn and perish." She opened her mouth for an angry retort, but stalled out before speaking. Evidently this was the type of thing she knew she was prone to do.

  "Still, we do need to see this creature," the Elf said, his practical streak taking hold again, "so we can verify the Word. Maybe if we tie her up—"

  "What?" Excelsia screeched undaintily. "Perhaps if she merely promises not to go near the Alicorn until we're sure it's safe," Norton suggested diplomatically.

  Excelsia pouted. "Oh, all right!"

  The Elf shook his head bemusedly. "If only ye knew, Damsel!"

  "Never mind," Norton said quickly. "It never happened."

  "What never happened?" she demanded.

  "I'll bring down the fence," Norton said. "Remember, Excelsia, you promised—"

  "Tis a mess of foolishness o'er naught," she grumped.

  Nevertheless, he chopped much more carefully at the wall than he had before, so as to open a smaller hole and be on guard against her passage.

  The Alicorn stood as before. To the stallion, this was before; no awareness of his prior fate remained in his memory. The double disaster had been undone. The beast was still magnificent—but now Norton and the Elf had firsthand evidence as to why the Evil Sorceress had not approached him. Without the Word, approach was death.

  What was that Word? They had to come up with it—and Norton was sure that no random search would do it. If there was a Word, it had to be well hidden.

  Excelsia peeked through the hole and saw the Alicorn. "Ooooo!" she exclaimed melodiously, starting forward.

  Norton moved to intercept her, and she stopped. "I was not going in there," she said somewhat insincerely. "He's so beautiful. All my young, pretty, innocent life—"

  "Let's try words again," the Elf suggested. "Do we have any better way?"

  "Do we?" Norton echoed. He was not pleased with himself. He had met the Damsel, acquired the Enchanted Sword, slain the Evil Sorceress—approximately—and the Dragon, and now was balked by what should have been the simplest aspect of this adventure: speaking a Word to an animal.

  Squeeze.

  Could it be? "Sning—you say there is?"

  Squeeze.

  "You know it?"

  Squeeze.

  "A way we can learn the Word quickly?"

  Squeeze.

  "Well, let's get to it!" He looked up at the other two. "Sning can help us find the Word. All I have to do is find the right questions to ask him."

  "That's one mighty useful snake," the Elf remarked.

  "Even if he weren't, I would value him," Norton said. "He was given to me by one I—"

  Squeeze! SQUEEZE! SQUEEZE! Norton froze. He trusted Sning's warning—but what was its nature? Had he been about to say something wrong?

  Squeeze.

  Oh, yes—he kept forgetting that he did not have to speak his questions aloud. You object to my speaking of your value to me? he thought.

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  Is there some other threat?

  Squeeze.

  Some new monster approaching?

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  Norton pondered. The Elf and the Damsel watched him, mutually perplexed. They judged him to be an odd one. Some error in what I'm saying?

  Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

  This was difficult! Something all right to think, but not to speak?

  Sning hesitated, then gave one squeeze. What could that be? Norton glanced at the Elf. "I was about to say something wrong, so Sning warned me. But I haven't figured out what—"

  "The Word," the Elf said wisely.

  "The Word!" Norton and Excelsia repeated together, and Sning squeezed affirmatively.

  "But why should it be wrong to—?"

  "Ah, we have all been fools!" the Elf cried. "Know ye not that the power of a Word adheres to him who speaks it? If you had spoken it—"

  Now Norton understood. "Then the Alicorn would be tamed by me—"

  "And by no one else," the Elf agreed. "I knew, but I forgot. A century of mud on my brain may have dulled it. 'Tis folly for us all to be crying out words; only the lass must speak that one to the steed. She be the one who wants him."

  "I had somehow thought the Alicorn would be completely tamed," Norton said. "So anyone could approach him."

  The Elf spat to the side. "Who would want a completely tame steed? That were as tasteless as a completely tame woman! He must be tame only for his master. Mistress."

  Norton nodded. A steed no one could steal, who would be as wild to strangers as he was now, unless cautioned by the one he respected. That did make sense. Perhaps the Alicorn was tame now for a former master, who had died or gotten lost. "If I discover the Word and whisper it to Excelsia, and then she speaks it aloud to the Alicorn—?"

  Squeeze.

  Now he had it straight. But one thing still bothered him. "If Sning knows the Word, the Evil Sorceress must have known it, too. I mean, she was a Sorceress and she had magical sources of information. Yet she never used the Word. She must have had reason."

  Excelsia had stood silently all the while, adoring the Alicorn through the hole in the fence. Now she looked at Norton. "She surely would have used it if she could!"

  "True, Sning?"

  Squeeze.

  "She knew it and coul
d not say it?"

  Squeeze.

  "There's no actual danger in using the Word—apart from making sure the right person uses it?"

  Squeeze.

  "And once that person uses it, it can't be used again, so no one else can take away the Alicorn's loyalty?"

  Squeeze.

  Until, perhaps, that person died, leaving the Alicorn free again. It was a firm commitment.

  Squeeze.

  Norton shook his head. "The Evil Sorceress certainly would have wanted to use it. Was she physically incapable of pronouncing it?"

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  "Emotionally incapable?"

  Squeeze.

  "Ah!" Excelsia exclaimed, clapping her hands. "I can guess what Word she could not say! The one that countered her nature!"

  "She was a creature of hate," the Elf agreed. Norton thought back to the moment of Sning's first warning on this subject. He had been commenting about Sning, who had been given to him by Orlene, the one he—

  Excelsia marched up to the Alicorn. The beast braced, ready for his devastating attack. "Love!" she cried. The Alicorn shuddered. Then he furled his wings and bowed his head until the terrible horn touched the battered earth.

  "It could be a ruse!" Norton warned.

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  Excelsia approached the stallion and put her small fair hand on his muscular shoulder near where one of his wings sprouted. "Love," she repeated softly. He lifted his head and brought his nose around to nuzzle her neck. He had indeed been tamed.

  She stooped to untie the knotted silver chain from his hind leg. Her human hands could do what neither his hooves nor his horn could. In a moment he was free—but he did not move. He waited for her directive.

  The Elf walked toward them. Instantly the Alicorn was alert. His wings unfurled and his horn took a bead on the intruder. A small puff of fire showed at his nostrils.

  "It's all right, Alicorn," Excelsia said. "These are my friends."

  The creature relaxed. If she said it was all right, it was all right, for her word was his law. But woe betide the one she did not speak for!

  Excelsia jumped up on the steed's back, managing to achieve a sidesaddle position though there was no saddle. Norton knew how difficult it could be to mount a standing horse without the aid of a stirrup. Perhaps she had a little magic of her own—the magic of Damsel with Equine.

  "Oh, I'm so happy!" Excelsia cried, waving to Norton and the Elf. "Onward and upward, Alicorn!"

  The Alicorn spread his great white wings, pumped them, and launched himself into the air. There was hardly any downdraft; most of his impetus was magic. In moments Damsel and stallion were high aloft.

  "Well, the job's done, the adventure complete," the Elf remarked. He held out his hand. "You won't be needing the Enchanted Sword any more."

  Norton stared at the diminishing speck in the sky. Somehow he had expected more thanks for his effort than this. "I suppose not." He handed the Sword over.

  The Elf took it by mid-blade and held it up over his head, horizontally. A mud-puddle began to form around his feet. Slowly he sank into it.

  "But I thought you didn't like mud!" Norton protested.

  "I don't," the Elf agreed, sinking further. "But that's fantasy for you. The Damsel gets to fly, while the Elf gets stuck in the mud."

  Something caught the corner of Norton's eye. He looked around. The slain Dragon was reviving!

  "Hey, wait, Elf! I have further use for that Sword!"

  The Elf's descent into the widening puddle paused. "What for? You're finished with the Quest."

  "The Dragon! He's not quite dead!"

  "Of course he's not quite dead! He's immortal! He dies only for an hour, then he resumes his post. Naturally he'll be somewhat irritated by the loss of the Alicorn he guarded—but that's a new Quest."

  "But that means I need a weapon!"

  "Nah. You won't be staying long. Otherwise you'd be worrying about when the Evil Sorceress revives. It takes her two hours, 'cause she's worse; but when she does, hoo man!"

  Norton looked wildly at the fallen castle. Sure enough, it was beginning to re-form from the mound of slime. "None of this destruction was permanent? It's all coming back?"

  There was no response. He looked—and the Elf was gone. Only his hat and the Enchanted Sword remained above the mud, and in a moment they, too, sank out of sight.

  Norton felt very much alone. Now he was without weapon or companions—and the Dragon was climbing to its fourteen or sixteen pairs of legs, larger than ever and quite annoyed. Norton would have to cross the Dragon's path to escape this region.

  Squeeze.

  Suddenly he felt better. "Sning! I've still got you!" Then he drifted from the planet and zoomed back toward his own realm. This visit was over—none too soon.

  Chapter 10 - GAEA

  Satan was waiting for him again as he returned. "Did you enjoy yourself?" the Prince of Evil inquired politely.

  Norton looked at him narrowly. "You don't know?"

  "My dear associate! How could I?"

  "You sent me there. You ought to be able to tell how things are. Otherwise how could you be sure you weren't sending me to my doom?"

  "One Incarnation can not harm another."

  "Without the other's consent. If you placed me in a challenging situation and I failed to meet that challenge, would that constitute my consent for harm?"

  "There is no danger to you in the fantasy scheme! It is nothing but a living adventure."

  "I thought that was rather convenient," Norton said. "I arrive just in time for a classic fantasy adventure, complete with Damsel in Distress, Enchanted Sword, sturdy Elf, Evil Sorceress, Dragon, and Alicorn. True chance would have had me land in a barren wilderness. And my prior trip, too—with spaceman, Bem, psi powers, shape changing, and wreck on an alien planet. Another arranged adventure."

  "Well, My clients would not be interested in dull vacations," Satan pointed out. "I try to reward them well for their services to Me. Heaven, you know, is a pretty dull place; My settings have the excitement of challenge and success."

  "So others have interacted with Bat Dursten and his Bems, and with Excelsia and her Alicorn?"

  Satan looked modestly uncomfortable. "Or reasonable facsimiles thereof," he agreed. "There is no harm in it, and a scripted adventure is, after all, an aspect of My specialty: an interesting and amusing fabrication."

  "Yes, I remember. You are the Father of Lies."

  "Certainly. Fiction is but an accepted lie, and so it is My business. People have been brainwashed into supposing that there can be no benefit in lies, but lies of this nature can be exceptionally rewarding. If you would care to visit other settings, such as the Wild West, or Mystery Sleuth, or Complex Historical, or Torrid Romance—"

  "The antimatter frame has quite a spread of habitats!"

  "Indeed. Plenty of room for all My favored friends." Satan leaned forward persuasively. "There are many scenarios within each setting, too. If, for example, you found Excelsia attractive. We could arrange for her to—"

  "Never mind that." Norton had indeed found her attractive, but didn't care to have Satan know it. "If you have such an excellent way to reward your minions, why do you need to bother with me?—Your friend in your past—"

  "Ah, you checked him? Did you discover any flaw in the life I contemplate for him?"

  "No. I just don't follow your motive. Why not send him to delights in the globular cluster or the Magic-Lantern Cloud, instead of taking all this trouble with me?"

  Satan shrugged. "I suppose I could. But I have promised him a happy life in this world and I always keep My promises."

  Norton hesitated. He did not trust the Father of Lies, yet this particular case did seem to check out. "I'll give it further consideration."

  Satan stood. "As you wish, Chronos." He turned about in place and, somehow, by the time he completed the turn, he was gone.

  Norton took a meal and a snooze. He wasn't sure how much objective time ha
d passed, in whatever direction, or what day it might now be beyond his mansion, but he himself had been quite active.

  In due course Clotho showed up. She stepped into his arms immediately and kissed him, then hesitated. "Or is this too soon for you now, in your lifeline?"

  Norton realized that there had been, or would be—depending on viewpoint—a romance between them. He still loved Orlene but knew that was over. He had been intrigued by Excelsia, but did not want to get involved in such fashion with a creature who played roles for Satan. Clotho he trusted. "I think it is right for me now," he said. "But it's newer to me than to you."

  "There was a time when it was otherwise," she said, smiling. "This will be my pleasure."

  Indeed, she led him through a quite satisfactory liaison, for she was conversant with what pleased him, including some things he hadn't known before would please him. He realized he was going to enjoy experiencing the other encounters she remembered. His separation from his past was now virtually complete. Clotho was excellent medicine... except for those knowing eyes.

  Then they set up for the day's work. For this, Clotho shifted to Lachesis, who glanced at him obliquely while pretending to be ignorant of what her other aspect had just been doing. Then she put her spread-fingered hands together to draw out the first cat's cradle of crossed threads. She paused. "That's odd."

  "You have a tangle?"

  "A crossed set, where there shouldn't be." She frowned, trying to make it out.

  "That reminds me. Satan wants a favor, and I checked it, and it seems all right. But maybe I should consult with you, just in case it disturbs your threads."

  She looked up from her network. "That would be wise. Satan must never be trusted. He builds deceit upon deceit, until reality disappears."

  "It's a favor for a man about twenty years in your past. He had a chance to meet and marry a lovely and wealthy young woman, but missed it and committed suicide instead. Satan wants to reverse that so the man can have a good life."

  "Suicide," she said. She shifted to Atropos. "That's my department," the old woman said. "And Thanatos'. I schedule the terminations, he executes them." She moved her fingers in intricate patterns, conjuring threads. "Specific space-time address?"