Vengeance of the Dancing Gods

Chalker, Jack L –

 Vengeance of the Dancing Gods

CHAPTER I ENCOUNTER ON A LONELY ROAD

If a worshipped idol has power, it shall always emanate from the eyes or the navel, except for gotems, in which case see Vol. XCVIH.

—The Book of Rules, XCLV, 194(d) IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES; IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES.

In point of fact, Husaquahr had been blessed now with good government—as good as it was going to get, anyway —and peace for several years.

In other words, it was pretty damned dull in Husaquahr.

Oh, there were the usual quotient of crimes, magic spells, occasional irritating geases, and a number of blackart wizards and witches lurking about, and the general population was oppressed by a ruling class of one sort or another as usual, but it was minor, petty stuff. There'd be no great new warrior kings to fear and celebrate in song and story through the generations, no wondrous battles, the tales of which would thrill the newer generations for centuries, no epic quests or bold adventures that would make this a time to look back on. Since the defeat and subsequent exile of the Dark Baron and the dispersement of his armies, even those who were most evil in Husaquahr seemed willing to compromise with the good and just have a comfortable old time.

The rider on the black horse was almost invisible in the dusk, wearing as he was a tight black body stocking, 2 VENGEANCE OF THE DANCING GODS black belt, and worn riding boots. He was a small man, both short and slight, and wore only a small dagger for his defense. He looked elfin, although he was of totally human blood, and somewhat boyish; yet any who looked into his cold, penetrating eyes knew both fear and respect.

They were dark eyes, as black as his garb, and they were very old eyes as well. They said to one and all that this was a dangerous man and not ever to be taken lightly.

It had been seven years since he'd stood with the greats and fought with the best of this world the forces of evil and darkness brought forth from Hell itself by the Dark Baron. He had killed many men then and a few since, but never without cause.

It was cool in Husaquahr right now; the gods of the north wind breathed down deeply this year into the southern lands and refused to take their rest, even as the days grew longer. He pulled his cloak a bit more tightly about him to ward off the stinging fingers of wind and saw in the waning light of the setting sun the signs of an approaching stormfront. There was no question as to what sort of front it might be—soon snow would be all that Page 1 Chalker, Jack L - Vengeance of the Dancing Gods would be possible out here. It was already far too late for snow, but someone had forgotten to tell the snow that this was so.

Only an idiot would be out in wastes like this with weather like that coming on, he told himself sourly. There seemed little hope that he could outrun the storm, less hope that there was any place along this route where he could find shelter for the night or the storm's duration, and it was much too far to turn back to the last settlement.

He knew what was behind him; what was ahead certainly offered more hope, since he was ignorant of the details, although perhaps not anything better.

He had taken this ancient road primarily to avoid uncomfortable pursuit. A slight smile came to his face and he reached down to his belt and into a small pouch and brought forth a giant emerald, as large as a lemon and alight with an inner green fire. He would have given JACK L. CHALKER 3 it back, having proved his point and met the challenge, but the priests of Baathazar weren't the sort to be forgiving just for that. He had no use for the thing—he had long ago amassed more money than he knew what to do with and he had the most powerful friends and allies in all the world to bail him out if need be.

Necessity had made him a thief; but once he'd chosen his profession, he'd been bound by the Rules concerning thieves, and the occupation had both shaped and gotten along famously with his personality. He was a thief, and he'd always be one—the greatest thief in all Husaquahr, perhaps the world. The profession was the grandest one offered someone of no means and little magic, for each theft was a challenge, each caper a unique puzzle to be solved. The more impossible it was, the more he was drawn to it as a fly to honey. He had stolen this, the jewel in the navel of the great idol Baathazar, in full view of ten thousand pilgrims and half a dozen high priests with great powers of wizardry. It had been easy—but only in retrospect. He was quite certain, without being egotistical, that no one else could have pulled it off.

Still, he would have returned it to them—sent them a note telling them where to find it, perhaps involving them having to lower themselves to a great indignity to get it; but they would have retrieved it. What was the point.

The thing was worthless to him now.

They had not, however, a true appreciation of his skill and, yes, his integrity as well. They didn't really care if they got the stone back, so long as they got the "desecrator.

of their sacred idol. It wasn't even much of a god, as these things went—one of those left over from the bad old days, supported by a decreasing number of followers.

That, more than anything, was what had made them bad-tempered fanatics. Priests used to all that power now had to undergo a lot of belt-tightening, and they didn't Page 2 Chalker, Jack L - Vengeance of the Dancing Gods tike it one little bit. He was a handy person to take all that frustration out on. In a way, he'd known it from the start and had taken steps to counter it, steps which included 4 VENGEANCE OF THE DANCING GODS this escape route. The one thing he hadn't counted on, though, was snow.

It began soon and quickly built up into an uncomfortable blinding world of white flakes. Within minutes he was no longer certain that he was still on the road, or in which direction he was going, and he knew he'd have to stop soon or perish. This was no weather nor fit place in which to be stuck, whether man or beast. His horse was already complaining and it had no place to go, either.

Chance would not save him now, nor all his skills, and he knew it. Only magic would get him out of a fix like this, and he had very little that really mattered. He wished, at least, he had some power to dry up the snow or conjure a nice inn with good ale and a warm fire. Damn it, he wasn't even dressed for this weather! At the thought, the jewel in the pouch seemed to hum and throb, slowly at first, but with a building force that could no longer be dismissed as mere imagination. He stopped in the midst of the storm and removed it once more, noting its unnatural fire and glow.

Why did a god have a navel to begin with? He wondered about that idly, knowing that he was trying to take his mind off his impending doom. He stared deeply into the jewel's throbbing fire, and suddenly it seemed to him as if the wind were calmed and the storm silenced. There was, all at once, a deathly hush about him and his mount, and he knew in a moment that he was not imagining things.

This was indeed magic, dark magic of the blackest sort, the kind of magic that he would never touch in any other case but this. He didn't know whether or not he'd sell his soul to live—he frankly wasn't certain it was still his to sell—but it was better than the alternative.

He hopped down off his horse and looked around.

There was still near total darkness; yet where he stood no wind blew and no snow fell. There was, in fact, an unnatural warmth which was already melting the snow that had fallen upon the ground on which he stood, turning it to mud.

JACK L. CHALKER 5 He placed the stone on the ground and drew a pentagram around it v/ith his dagger. It wasn't a very large pentagram, but that which he expected to occupy it would fit one the size of the head of a needle if need be. He stepped out of the pentagram and then closed it.

"Ali right, green fire," he called aloud to the thing, "if indeed you are a gateway to elsewhere, then I hear your call. Whoever is bound to you should come through, so Page 3 Chalker, Jack L - Vengeance of the Dancing Gods that we may discuss things..

There was a sudden hissing from the stone, which flared into extraordinary brightness, and then the sound of escaping steam as a thin plume of smoke rose from it until it was perhaps shoulder-high. The steam, which gave off an uncomfortable heat in spite of the raging snowstorm all about him, widened into a turnip shape, expanding to fill the entire area. When it contacted the boundaries of his crude pentagram, it ceased growing and instead solidified.

The demon who showed up was something of a turnip itself.

It seemed to be all face, a comical, Humpty-Dumpty sort of thing whose waist was its mouth, above which sat two huge oval eyes. The head rose into a point, at the top of which was just a shock of purple hair. Below, the thing sat on two huge clawed feet, but seemed to have no legs to speak of. Its arms, coming out of its body just below that tremendous mouth, were short and stubby things of misshapen crimson, ending in long and mottled hands with great black claws at the fingertips. It looked around, spotted him, opened its mouth, and licked its lips with an enormous black tongue. The inside of the mouth was lined with more teeth than a shark's, all pointed and sharp, and beyond those teeth seemed to be a bottomless hole.

This, then, was the source of the priests' powers and the reason why they were nearly frantic to get back the stone.

"You're not one of those mealy-mouthed priests," the 6 VENGEANCE OF THE DANCING GODS demon croaked in a voice so deep and reverberant that it moved the very air. "That means that either their silly faith is overthrown or you're a pretty damned good thief..

"The latter. Sir Demon," the little man responded, bowing slightly. "I could not resist the challenge, although, to be sure, I had no idea I was stealing more than a great gem..

"All great gems have demons assigned to them. You should know that. Otherwise, where do you think all those curses came from?.

"Good point," he admitted. "However, this, I suspect, is a different sort of gem..

"In a way," the demon agreed. "I can certainly see that you've mucked up your getaway. This is no curiosity call..

"Quite right, sir. I need a service, it is true, if the price be not too high..

Page 4 Chalker, Jack L - Vengeance of the Dancing Gods The demon studied him. "What could you offer me, thief? Those in your profession tend to wind up with us anyway, so your soul isn't much of a deal. Still, you never know. What's your name?.

"I am Macore of the Shadowlands," the thief replied.

"Macore, huh? Seems like I heard the name. Hold on a moment while I check..

Instantly the demon vanished, leaving Macore alone once more. No, not quite alone—from the center of the pentagram came forth the lush sounds of massed violins playing a rather pleasant if monotonous melody. It was very nice at first; but as time wore on and both he and his horse began to get very impatient, the strains of the music began to irritate him.

Suddenly the music stopped. Just as abruptly the demon was back. "Sorry to keep you on hold so long, but his Satanic Majesty's filing system is lousy. We have so many customers and prospects these days that he really should automate it, but that would make it too easy for us." His voice took on a mocking tone. "It's supposed to be Hell, remember that!" He sighed, and the sound of it went right through the little thief.

JACK L. CHALKER 7 "Still," the demon continued, "I did find the file.

Thought your name was familiar, too. One of the minor demon princes got sent all the way down to the dungpits a while ago and he ain't stopped wallowing in more than just dung, if you know what I mean. All the time, this self-pitying wail about how he was gonna deliver this world on a silver platter and got cashiered instead of rewarded for it. What's he expect, anyway? It's Hell, after all..

Macore thought a moment. "His name wouldn't be Hiccarph, would it?.

"Yeah. That's the one. So it is the same Macore. Okay, that simplifies everything. What do you wish, thief?.

This was suspiciously too cooperative. "And what is the price?.

"First you tell me what you want, then I'll quote you the going rates. That's simple enough. You keep it simple, I'll keep it cheap. Fair enough?.

"I can ask for no more," Macore responded. Already the temptation was there to ask for whatever he wished, to go for it all, but he knew that this was the trap of demonic bargains. He had no intention of delivering himself totally, now and forever, as a slave to this creature.

"Naturally, I wish safety and security from this storm and from my pursuers. Of course, I mean this in the way that I am thinking it, without loopholes or various things I did not think of when requesting it..