For Love of Evil (45 page)

No, suddenly he had a better idea! He could lead the Incarnation into a special trap, and settle the matter immediately. He surely had a better notion of the river channels than the Incarnation did, for Parry had dictated their courses. He had inherited a Hell that was archaically and inconsistently organized, and seen to its improvement; even though he had not paid much attention to such details in centuries, he knew as much as he needed to.

He shifted to a slimmer, faster form of fish, and began to gain. Here in the polluted water that was enchanted to prevent damned souls from fleeing Hell, conjuring magic did not work well; that was why Parry could not escape that way, and why the Incarnation could not banish him back to the Void. They had to settle matters right here.

The Incarnation saw this, and modified his own form. He became a slimmer, faster shark. He began to gain again. He was probably enjoying the chase, believing that the end was inevitable. After all, there was nowhere within the confines of Hell that any soul could escape the Incarnation of Evil.

But Parry knew where he was going. He dodged and turned, staying just ahead of the shark's jaws, then abruptly swerved into a tributary stream.

This was the Phlegethon, the River of Fire. Flames hovered over its surface, and its waters were boiling hot. But even as he entered. Parry modified to the form of a firefish, which thrived in such heat. The Incarnation, caught by surprise, paused, then did likewise, simply copying Parry's form.

That strategy would enable the Incarnation to follow him anywhere, and the Incarnation's greater strength would ensure a closing of the gap between them. But Parry had gained a critical bit of time. Perhaps more important, he had established that he had to be closely followed, and by a like form, or he would escape. That would gain him a reprieve, but not victory; the Incarnation would simply reorient on his soul and chase him down again, like a cat playing with a mouse. Assuming the Incarnation had mastered the soul-tracing magic. If by chance he had not-

He looped swiftly back, swimming downstream and giving the Incarnation the temporary slip. But in a moment the other fish was back on his trail. Obviously the Incarnation had a lock on his identity, and could sniff him out anywhere. So much for that faint hope.

He reentered the Acheron, modifying his fish form again. The Incarnation followed, matching both course and detail.

Then Parry dodged into the Kokytus, the frozen river. He modified his form to handle the cold, becoming a small ice fish. The Incarnation did likewise, hardly losing time.

This time Parry did not double back. He forged upstream, under the ice, dodging boulders in the water, trying to hide in the tricky nether currents. But the Incarnation was not to be deceived. He followed every bypath, coming steadily closer. There could be no escape into the headwaters, for Parry would be slowed, or he would have to change form and leave the river, and would be caught when he tried.

As he swam, he made a spell. It was a quiet one that did not affect his form or his nature, and he hoped it went unnoticed. This was the critical stage; if the Incarnation caught on to where Parry was leading, or what the effect would be, or how to nullify it as Parry had just done, then all would be lost. But the Incarnation lacked experience in Hell; Parry was counting on that.

Abruptly he swam into a new tributary, one whose waters were not frozen. He intensified his spell, though the effort slowed him.

The Incarnation followed, his jaws opening. Once he caught hold. Parry would not be able to escape. They both knew that. This was the finale.

Then the Incarnation slowed, seeming dazed. He began to swim aimlessly. He moved to the side to nibble at a succulent bit of vegetation.

Was it a ruse? Or was it the finish? It would soon enough be evident.

Parry reversed, and swam downriver. There was no pursuit. He came to the River Kokytus needing no further modification for the cold. He swam all the way back down to the River Acheron before venturing to the shore and changing back to his human form.

He climbed to the bank. "I, Satan, reclaim My office," he proclaimed. He felt the power returning to him. He had been in time. He was once more the Incarnation of Evil.

He conjured himself to the center of Hell. Ozymandias looked up from his desk. "My Lord, You have returned," he said respectfully, as if it were a routine occurrence. "But if I may inquire-?"

"I led him into the River Ledie," Parry explained. "I used a spell to protect myself from its property of forgetfulness. It may be that he did not know that spell, or realize where he was."

"That may be," Ozymandias agreed. "Have You new orders, Satan?"

"Revert to My standing ones," Parry said. "Whatever damage the usurper has done, reverse it."

"As You wish." Then, slowly, Ozymandias smiled. He was glad to have the old order back.

Thanks to the help of Niobe and Nox, Parry was back in office. That was a considerable gratification-yet there was emptiness, too, for he knew that his change in circumstance could not restore to him his love. He had lost both Jolie and Orb; that had been understood when the other Incarnations helped him to recover. He had a mission to accomplish, and he would try his best, knowing the others would give no further quarter and expected none. But he would have traded it all for the other. Indeed, had traded it all for the other, one month ago.

After a busy day of reorganizing and reestablishing. Parry retired alone. He did not need sleep, but he hoped to obtain some anyway. Perhaps it would help dull the emptiness.

Then someone came to him. He realized immediately that it was an undamned soul, for it shone in a manner no damned soul could. How had it been admitted to Hell? The guardians should not have permitted it, and Ozymandias would never have authorized it. Only another Incarnation could-

The figure came close. It was a woman of shapely proportion. "Parry," she said.

What? He recognized that voice! Yet it was impossible.

She drew off her hood, showing her honey hair, and then her face. Her eyes were gray-green.

Parry stared, for a moment too amazed to speak.

"Yes, it is I," Jolie said. "I have returned to you, my love."

"But-I married another-I thought-"

Her expression changed. "Parry, you know that Gaea can never have a relationship with Satan, though she be technically married to him. That marriage must remain unconsummated, so that there is no question of undue influence. But there is no need for my marriage to you to be so. I love you as she does. Will you accept me back?"

He got up and enfolded her. "Oh, Jolie, yes! I thought you were forever lost. I do still love you-but I love her, too. If you can accept that-"

"I can accept that," she said, and kissed him.

For a moment his mind wandered, piecing out what had happened. Things fell abruptly together. Orb had taken the drop of blood containing Jolie's soul. Jolie could animate a living body, if given leave by the host of the body. There was only one person who would know that, and who would give that leave. One who loved him as Jolie did, and could not come to him. One whom he could never possess, because they were forever on opposite sides.

"But I can stay only the night," Jolie said. "And not every night. And it must be secret. A tryst others do not know about."

"A tryst," he agreed. "And-when you leave Me-if you would convey My thanks to the one whose body you borrow for what she-"

"She knows." For that time only the voice was that of an Incarnation. But the love in it was unchanged.

He kissed her once more, knowing that he had been doubly blessed. He would never be lonely again.

End of Anthony, Piers - Incarnations of Immortality