Songs of the Dancing Gods

CHAPTER 3 HARD ANSWERS, BIGGER QUESTIONS

Due to the long night, they had slept until past midday; even so, when Tiana awoke, she saw that Irving was still asleep. Clearly while his father’s suspicions were confirmed by this, and it was something she, too, worried about, she decided that it was best if it be kept a minor mystery from the big man. Joe still sprawled on the blanket, snoring away, so she gently awoke the boy, put a finger to her lips, and gave him a knowing wink.

He sat up fast, looked around, saw his father still asleep and relaxed. “Thanks,” he whispered to her.

“You’ve had your little fun, now go to work,” she whispered in reply. “You still have most of the money, I assume?”

“Yeah, sure. Right here. I didn’t use much. Uh—you think this is enough?”

She poured out the haul and looked it over. In among the masses of copper were a number of coins of silver and gold. “Oh, yes. More than enough, I think. Enough, too, to buy a decent breakfast.”

The boy started to pack up, working around the still sleeping Joe, and Tiana rummaged around in her pack and found what amounted to little more than a string bikini made of colored beads, then slipped it on so it hung on her hips. Then she started doing her normal routine of exercising, which included just about every bend and gyration even her body was capable of doing and repeating it over and over. It was unsettling to be talking to a woman who, seemingly without effort, balanced on the toes of one foot while raising the other leg almost straight even with her body against her head, over and over. It hurt just to look at it. The fact that she could also hold a normal conversation while doing this sort of thing was, well, unsettling.

The boy turned away and continued packing up the camp. “I still can’t get over how little most girls are dressed in this place. There’s more skin and tits here than a skin flick,” he remarked.

“It’s vanity, mostly, based on one of the Rules,” she told him. “It goes something like, ‘Weather permitting, all beautiful women will be scantily clad.’ The thing is, ‘beauty’ is nearly impossible to define, even for a bureaucrat. Some women whose looks are beyond question fall under that compulsion, but most do not. On the other hand, most women like to think that they are under that compulsion, and even those who don’t also tend to follow it, including many who shouldn’t.”

“Huh?”

“Otherwise, you’re sort of going around advertising that you think you’re plain or ugly,” she explained. “And, frankly, many women don’t really have the body for it. They need some well-placed clothing to look their best—but most won’t, anyway.”

“And that’s every place?”

“Oh, there are lots of places where the rule has no practical effect—cold climates, high places, places with lots of nasty insects or cutting vegetation. In those places, you undress for formal occasions! But in this broad region, which covers much of Husaquahr, it’s subtropical or downright tropical, and that’s the way things are.”

“Man! That’s still weird! It almost seems like you all are puttin’ up ads sayin’, ‘Come and get me.’ ”

“It’s not that bad, mostly because almost everybody does it. It’s normal, and whatever’s normal, no matter how different or strange, people get used to and take for granted in a hurry. It’s sort of like some ancient cultures in your own world, where a woman who was overdressed and usually veiled was a prostitute, since the clothing was used to hide her identity and maybe titillate the customers. Most original tropical cultures wore few clothes unless the missionaries or conquerors got to them. And, like them, there’s the sad fact of being in a world without science or machines governed by Rules that keep things as they are.”

“Yeah, this place could stand some fans and some television.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. You’re lucky to be his son and not his daughter here. Unless a woman has magical powers, or is of royal blood, she usually doesn’t count for much here. For most folks here, life is short and hard. You need a lot of babies here, because most babies die before they get a chance to grow up. Most girls are already married and having kids by age thirteen or fourteen. Women get no education and are mostly wives and laborers in homes and fields. It’s mostly that way on Earth, too, even now, although those who live in countries where women have some freedom like yours forget that. Of course, most of the men don’t get educated here, either. Here, some sort of trade for them, however menial, is all-important.”

“You got educated,” he noted.

“I was of royal blood. The Rules are different. And, with my parents murdered, I was hustled off to Earth for protection by Ruddygore. I had the best education, the best schools, the best things money could buy. It was only by happy chance that I could marry for love rather than politics.”

“Yeah? So what did it get you? You can’t remember half the schoolin’ you got—you keep sayin’ how more ’n’ more just slips away, and you’re goin’ around this place barefoot and close to bare-ass naked, dancin’ for coins thrown by horny geeks.”

She shrugged. “I think about that sometimes, but, the fact is, I think most street dancers dream of being princesses or queens, and most princesses or queens find the life so boring and so meaningless they fantasize about being dancers. Right now I’m having more fun than I ever did the other way. It might not be the life I’d pick, but it’s better than the one I had.”

“Yeah, for now,” the boy responded sagely. “But, sooner or later, this life’s gonna go sour, and there ain’t gonna be no way for you to go back to bein’ queen again. One of these days you’re gonna wake up and suddenly see that you ain’t slummin’, you ain’t playin’ poor, that’s what you are.”

Joe stirred. “Huh? Wuzzit?” He groaned, rolled over, tried to sit up, made it on the second attempt, and opened his eyes blearily. “Don’t you two ever sleep!”

“Sure, and we did,” Tiana told him. “It’s not morning, love, it’s afternoon, and if we want to make any time at all today we’d better pack up and get started.”

“Huh? No breakfast?”

“We’ll have to get some on the way. We’re cleaned out as it is, but we’ve got a little money now.”

Irv frowned. “You sure it’s safe to go through that town again?”

“Sure, so long as we skirt the riverfront,” Joe answered, still half asleep. He rummaged in his pack and pulled out a small cloth satchel. Opening it, he removed four identical-looking loincloths, picked the one that looked cleanest, and put it on.

Tiana did not mount or prepare her horse. She usually finished up her morning routine with a brisk run of eight to ten kilometers. She wouldn’t have that much this morning, so she was taking what she could get, and at a real run. Those extremely long legs were pure muscle, and she meant to keep them that way. They actually had to urge their horses to a trot to keep up with her.

The port town looked different by daylight, but not improved. It was pretty seedy, really, with buildings of ramshackle wood and well-worn adobe intermixed with no thought or plan. It also smelted of garbage and feces and collective human sweat and was thick with all sorts of bugs, most particularly flies and roaches.

Through it all, the population was about. Away from the port and markets, the hard-packed dirt streets were filled with human traffic; carts going this way and that, donkeys, and lots of bare-chested women in colorful slit skirts, often with one or two small babies strapped to a front halter or carrier on their backs and other naked, dirty-looking toddlers bringing up the rear, carrying huge loads on top of their heads this way and that, trying to avoid the omnipresent horse dung that was always in the streets. The centers of each neighborhood were the communal wells with their pumps and pools held by crumbling adobe masonry. The women there all had kids, and it seemed like every other one was pregnant, even the ones with small crying babies.

It had taken Irving weeks to stop gagging every time he was around places like this. Somehow, all those sword-and-sandal epics on TV had never gotten to what those places smelled like. Now, though, he was almost getting used to it, and, in fact, he was no longer ogling every bare breast he saw, either. Tiana had a point about what was normal one place or another. The amazing thing was that it took so little time to get used to a new normality.

Most of the cafes and bars only opened during normal mealtimes, but they were able to find a small place off one of the squares with a big well that had some leftover stuff from lunch and was willing to let them have it cheap. Without refrigerators, you couldn’t keep much long around here. A trio of girls, the oldest of whom looked to be ten or eleven, seemed to do most things. It had also seemed odd to Irv at first that kids his age and even younger got served beer or wine, but, early on, when he saw a couple of little kids pissing in one of the wells, he understood and didn’t touch regular water again if he could help it.

Of course, when they had come over, Ruddygore had worked some sort of magic that had given him the immunity he’d have if he’d been born and grown up here, and that helped, but there was still a lot of sickness and a lot of young deaths here, and nobody was immune from the galloping runs.

Tiana, at least now, was a total vegetarian; she didn’t even drink milk or eat eggs. If it didn’t grow in the ground, she didn’t touch it. Fortunately, his father had no such problems, and in that, he most certainly decided, like father, like son. He, for one, didn’t know how the hell she got all that energy off cow fodder.

The proprietor was a fat little lady named Esaga who looked a lot older than she probably was. She wore only a rope tied loosely about her waist, with modesty coming from a utilitarian towel hanging over the front and another in back. She had the biggest boobs Irv thought he’d ever seen, and, even though she was really roly-poly, there was no question that she was pregnant and well along in it, too.

“I see what you mean about the ones that shouldn’t,” Irv whispered to Tiana.

“Oh, I doubt if that’s the reason,” she responded in the same low tone. “Most likely she’s got fires going for cooking in back and, considering how hot it is even out here in front, she’d drop from heat back there if she wore much more. The big thing to remember is, here, it doesn’t matter.”

“Madame,” Joe called to Esaga. “How far upriver is it to the ferry across? Do you know?”

“Mercy, sir, I couldn’t tell ya,” she responded in a deep, rich voice. “I been borned and riz right here and never had no time t’go no place else. Keepin’ this place stocked and a-goin’ every day of the week and seein’ t’my kids keeps me too busy fer much else. There’s a prefect house a block down and to the left, there, though. They’d know if anybody does.”

Even Joe had never quite gotten used to that, and Irving thought he never would. Nobody gave you anything here, least of all the government. You worked or you starved, and your kids did, too. Those had to be her daughters working here—they looked like sisters. How many kids had she had, and from what age? And how many survived to grow up? And what did their old man do other than knock up his old lady?

It didn’t seem right, somehow. Worse, it seemed pretty damned rough.

Joe’s soft heart made him try to overpay the very tiny bill, but they would have none of it. To them, tipping was charity, and if they had nothing else, they had their pride and their honor.

And that, of course, was what made this screwy world work in the end. They might not have much or be much, but they took pride in what they did have and what they earned, and so did most others. It was the one noticeable thing that seemed everywhere here, standing out even more because of the lack of such a sense back home. Hell, even the crooks had a code of honor here. In a way, it was the one thing about them that was superior to anybody he’d known back home. Finally, they did manage to give them a little extra money for some extra leftovers and an urn of wine; provisions for the journey north to the ferry.

The prefect house was like a small police station—very small, it turned out. The one guy on duty, sweltering in his threadbare but perfectly maintained fancy uniform, was pretty helpful. Yes, there was a ferry, about twelve miles north if you followed the river road. There were certainly others farther up, but even he hadn’t been farther than the first one and had certainly never ridden on it. No, he didn’t know where it went, but it was definitely somewhere in the Kingdom of Marquewood, since that was all the other shore, and it had to go somewhere worth going or they wouldn’t have a ferry there. He had a map of his own of High Pothique, or at least the coastal section, and all that showed was that they were farther south than they thought they were.

Admitting the point, Joe asked, “Any dangers or warnings about the route come down?”

“No, not close to here. There are reports of problems near the northern border, but you will not be going anywhere near that far. As for Marquewood, I cannot say. They say there’s lots of fairy folk along the river over there, and you never know about them. We haven’t had an incident along the route in either direction for a day or more’s ride in—well, since the War.”

“Suits us fine,” he told the prefect, and left. “He says it’s clear riding,” he told Tiana and the boy. “Let’s head ’em up and move ’em out.”

They set out right away, and soon left the town far behind.

“The way the sundial in the square back there pointed, I don’t think we’ve got much more than four hours more of sunlight, thanks to our late start,” Joe said to them. “I’m not too thrilled trying to take this river road at night, the way it twists and turns. I say we make what time we can, then camp and get an early start tomorrow. No telling how long a wait it’ll be to get on the boat.”

Every couple of miles along the road there was a small spur leading down to a flat, mossy area almost at the river. These in, fact were rest stops, so to speak, where you could use the river to relieve yourself, build a fire to cook and to eat, or make camp if you were caught short on the trail by sunset. Sunsets came very quickly in this pan of Husaquahr, and the nights tended to be very, very dark.

After their first pit stop, Tiana said, “No telling how much standing around we’ll have to do tomorrow, so I’m gonna run the distance today. Too much riding makes me stiff.”

“Well, we’re not in any real hurry, so don’t get too far ahead,” Joe warned her. “You never know who or what’s around on roads like this.”

“Don’t worry so much,” she scolded him. “If you’re that nervous, keep up with me!”

“Man! I’m tired just watchin’ her go!” Irv said bemusedly. “How can anybody get that way on lettuce and fruit salad?”

Joe laughed. “I don’t know. She was never like that before. She was like six-two or -three, two hundred and sixty pounds. You saw the statues. She was something of a fitness nut even then, though. Hell, I think she could’a lifted me.”

“She ain’t all that short now, for a girl.”

“Talking averages, no, five-six isn’t short, but it’s three-quarters of a foot shorter than she was. And, of course, the body’s totally different. It’s still her inside, though, and I’d trust her judgment most of the time, except when she’s dancing, anyway.”

Irving looked out at the broad river, more majestic-looking than ever, the distant green shore showing little detail. Suddenly he frowned, stared, and looked again. “There are girls-women—out there!”

Joe turned and looked, not seeing them at first, then finally catching what the boy had seen.

“Holy Hell! Did you see that?” Irv cried. “A big fish just jumped out and right on top of one of them!”

Joe laughed. “No, it only looked that way. Those aren’t women, they’re river mermaids. Contrary to the old legends, mermaids are mammals like us and breathe air. River mermaids mostly have that bluish cast to their bodies and light underbellies, kind of like dolphins. Ask your stepmother about mermaids sometime. She was one of the salt water kind once, in between then and now.”

Irving could just stare for a moment. “Jeez! Just when you start gettin’ used to this place, somethin’ like that pops up and hits you in the face! Mermaids! Wow! Uh—are there any mermen?”

“Not that I know of, but I couldn’t be dead certain on that. I think they mate with regular men, like you or me. They’re supposed to be able to hypnotize you or something so they’re irresistible. But they only have daughters and they’re always mermaids. Don’t get any bright romantic ideas at your age, though. They do it in the water, and it’s even odds the guy drowns in the end.”

Irving gulped. “Uh—thanks for the warnin’.”

“There’s all sorts of things that live out there in and beneath that river,” Joe told him. “A lot of ’em aren’t that pleasant, and even the ones that are might have little flaws like that. You run into any of the nonhuman races, never make the mistake of thinking that they’re just funny-looking people or people with odd abilities or powers. They’re not. They think different, live different, and have a whole different way of seeing things than we do, and most of ’em haven’t got a lot good to say or think about humans. Our people pretty much wiped out their people back on Earth, and they know it, and since death to them is final, they don’t ever want to give us much of a chance here.” There was little traffic on the river road; they passed only a few people going in the other direction, mostly men on horseback, looking as if they were heading home from someplace, and some folks with carts heading in with produce for the town they’d left. Each one reported seeing Tiana and that she was in good shape.

One fellow had come off the ferry. “Yeah, it’s decent,” he told them. “Pricey, though. The next crossing’s almost seventy miles north or fifty miles south and they know it. A Marquewood boat and fairy-run. That means only gold.” “A fairy ferry!” Irv laughed. “What kind?” “You wait and see, youngster,” the man responded. Joe ignored the exchange. “What’s the rate?” “Two gold apiece one way, three round trip. That’s with horse, of course. One and a half and two without, but I wouldn’t advise it. They charge plenty for horses on the other side, too, and it’s a long walk to anywhere else.”

Joe whistled. “We’re short, then.”

“There’s some brokers at the landing, but they’ll steal you blind,” the man warned. “Best if you can sell something ahead of time.”

“Any towns between here and there?”

“No, it’s only about an hour and a half ahead of you. No use hurrying there, though. They don’t run at night and they’re on their last trip of the day by now.”

“Where’s it go?”

“Daryia. Nice little town, but just inland is a main junction for most anyplace in Marquewood.”

“Huh. If it’s as costly as you say, and we’re this far down, I might be better going the extra two days’ distance north and taking the shorter run. I’ve taken that one before.”

“Wouldn’t recommend it,” he responded. “Not much government authority up in that area, and a lot of nasties lurking around. Still got those damned zombies about, you know.”

That got Joe’s attention fast. “Zombies? You mean the Master of the Dead is still going?”

“Sure. Where have you been? His advance stopped about six months ago, and he actually withdrew a bit, consolidating his gains, but he’s still powerful and nobody’s been able to take anything back yet. It’s a miracle he stopped his advance at all, but he’s sure to start up again sooner or later. Rumor has it he reached the limit of how many of the walking dead he could control or maybe how big an area of “em he could control. Sooner or later he’ll make a deal with some principalities or others and get what he needs, though, mark my words! I sure wouldn’t be going north right now!”

They pressed on, but Irving wanted to know the details.

“His name is Sugasto, and sooner or later I’ve got a score to settle with him,” Joe told the boy. “I met the dirty weasel on our first quest here. An oilier traitor I don’t think I’ve ever met. Even the old Dark Baron was a gentleman compared to this guy. Ruling over corpses is only one of his tricks, but a good one. Hard as hell to kill somebody who’s already dead. His other little trick of snatching your soul from your body and putting it in a jar is one reason why Tiana’s in the body she’s in and caused us all sorts of problems. That was a trick he even taught the Baron. If you get close to him, your soul will wind up in one of his wine cellars and he’ll be free to play games with your body. Funny. Old Ruddygore said he would be easy to take care of with the Baron out of the way. I don’t like the sound of it.”

“Why not?”

“Well, that second ferry’s just below Castle Terindell on the Marquewood side. If Sugasto’s got control down about to the other side there, that means he’s only stuck because of Ruddy-gore, and that means that he’s pretty much got our old patron in a stalemate and he’s trying to figure a way to break it before going further. I don’t want to run into him just yet. The last time I was but for the count in a bottle, and when Marge found the bottles of all of us, they didn’t have any labels on them. We wound up being poured back into the wrong bodies, and the one I drew was one I don’t want to have to detail.”

He worried about Tiana being out of sight ahead, but just before sunset she came back to them down the trail, breathing hard but not looking out of sorts at all. They took the next turnout to the river, and set up camp for the night. While doing so, Joe gave Tiana the news from the traveler.

“Well, then, we must take this ferry,” she told them. “We don’t dare get near his territory right now, particularly if somebody recognizes us, and we must assume he’s got a pretty good intelligence service.”

Joe sighed. “Well, converting the silver and the copper, we’ve got maybe four gold pieces. We’re two short, and if those traders at the landing are the kind that usually are at places like that, we’ll get no more than one for a horse, bur pay three on the other side to get somebody else’s horse, and it’s another sixty or seventy miles easy to Terindell once we get over.”

She thought about it. “Well, if we sell them one of the horses, and with the silver converted, we should make it. I can run part way and double up with Irving, here, for the distance. Of course, there’s usually a bar or cafe at these landings, too. Maybe I could dance.”

“Uh-uh. Not on this side, anyway,” Joe responded quickly. “No chance of a getaway if things get wild. We might take our chances over there, but not here.”

She shrugged. “Well, we’ll see what the situation is when we get there.”

They built a small fire and had some of the provisions, and Joe was already yawning. “Damn! Too big a night last night and not enough sleep after. I’m ready to fall over right now!”

“You go ahead, then,” she told him. “I want to wind down a little more yet, then I’ll join you.”

By this time the entire region was in pitch darkness; there was no moon, and the stars provided very little decent illumination.

Joe was soon snoring away as usual, but Irving was having problems getting to sleep. He was just starting to drift off when he heard something and came awake. Dimly, by the thin light the dying fire gave, he could see Tiana putting a bridle on her horse. He got up and went over to her.

“What’s up?”

“Shhh… Don’t wake Joe. If I’m lucky he’ll never know I’ve gone and I’ll be back long before he wakes up.”

“But where are you going?” he whispered.

“Up to the landing. It’s only about a half-hour by horse. I know—I saw the boat leave before I came back from the bluff just ahead.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“No. Stay here. Get some rest, and watch over the provisions.”

“But—what you gonna do?”

“Never mind. I’11 make a deal with you. I didn’t go anywhere but to sleep tonight, and you came straight back to camp last night. Period. Okay?”

She had him there.

“But—”

“No buts. I want to get a move on. I’ve just been waiting until he was out. Don’t worry. This is my turf, as you say.”

Irving watched her ride off, not quite knowing what to do. The fact was, this wasn’t her turf; she didn’t know that place ahead, but he knew the kind of people most likely to be around there at night. They’d run from them last night. She was off doin’ some fool thing with nobody to protect her at all.

It felt, well, dishonest, somehow. Sure, he’d had his little thing last night, but it wasn’t the same. He was a guy, and she was, well, married.

Now he had three choices: follow her on the quiet and see what was what and be there to bail her out if she needed it, do as she said, or wake Dad and betray her—and himself. He’d rather not face his father on that, even if he was an adult by Husaquahrian standards at thirteen, so the last one was out. Besides, he might be pissed off at her, too. But he couldn’t just, well, sit here, even if he didn’t like the idea of riding this road in the dark.

He got his horse, put on a bridle and blanket, and headed off in the direction of the landing as quietly as possible.

She beat him by a fair amount of time, of course; he was very cautious, knowing he didn’t have much experience in riding and yet wouldn’t be much good to her if he fell off the road and in the river and killed his horse or maybe broke his own neck. Her horse was tied up at the landing when he approached it.

It wasn’t all that much. A few small buildings, hardly a big deal. The biggest of them was apparently the pawn shop or whatever the equivalent was here; it probably also sold souvenirs. The other place was lit up, though, and from the sounds it appeared to be some kind of bar or nightclub. He tethered his horse away from the landing and crept down to it, then peered inside.

It was a bar, or, rather, what they called an inn here—a small bar and restaurant area, with a few rooms for rent either in back or upstairs. She was in there all right, and she was having a good old time with three or four guys, both doing some playful dancing and getting real suggestive with them. She was lying there at one point, real suggestive and seductive on this table, and one guy was feeding her grapes and stuff!

He knew now exactly what her Majesty was doing, and he didn’t know what to do about it. If Mama could be believed, which was always a question, she’d broken up with Dad after finding out he had a whole string of girls on the road. Of course, she wasn’t no slouch in that department, either, but the only memories of her like that was after the split. Dad had kind of admitted some of it, but claimed Mama was never a one-guy woman and they both knew it straight out at the start and that she’d taken up with this guy who was superjealous and she’d taken the new guy’s side in things and that led to the split. He wasn’t sure, but he sure never liked it the way it was while he was growing up.

He was so mixed up in his feelings he didn’t know quite what to do, so he went back to his horse, sat down on a rock, and just waited. Finally, he got so bored he dozed off, and only woke up when he heard another horse neigh. He jerked himself awake and saw her out there getting on her horse and turning it back toward him. He might have beaten her back to camp if he wanted to risk the ride, but the questions inside him forced him to wait.

She was startled to see him, but instantly she knew the whole story without his saying a word.

“Well,” she sighed, “I could say it was the Rules for me, and I think it might well be the truth, because I really do love your father deeply and yet I have no guilt or shame about this at all. It might also be something inside me wanting to get even with him.”

“Huh? He cheated on you?”

“Many times, when we were ruling together. It was nearly impossible for him to keep his hands off all those pretty young things who are attracted to strength and power, and with all the scheduling demands it wasn’t that hard for him, either. I’m not so sure that wasn’t one reason I wanted to end that phase of our life.”

“But you never cheated on him—then?”

“Eventually. Not right away, but, after a while, I started playing the same kind of games, partly in revenge, partly because he was getting such a workout with them he had little energy left for me. The difference was, I knew not only that he cheated, but with whom and when. He didn’t know about me. His male ego wouldn’t let him in any case unless he caught me in bed with somebody, and I was much too discreet for that. After a while, I got to like it. The variety, no complications, that kind of thing. But I was always, as you say, hung up with others then. I’m not any more. The other thing is, as I discovered tonight, I can’t just give it away, except to him. That’s some Rule someplace, no question.”

“You been doin’ this all along since we got here, then?”

“No, I’m in full control of myself. This was the first time. I’m not so sure about him, though, although he’s probably been good because you’re with us. I’m just sorry you had to find out, particularly like this. I guess I must not seem much of a change to you, and certainly not a good example. That I feel bad about.”

“Well, I dunno… What if he finds out?”

“He probably will someday, and then I’ll pull the Rules on him—everybody does it because nobody knows what the Rules really say—and he’ll feel free and that’ll be that. But I’d just as soon not right now. I don’t plan on this as a regular habit unless he forces me. I did it for just one good reason—pure practicality.”

“You did it for money.”

She nodded, holding out a hand. He reached out and into his outstretched palm dropped two gold and two silver pieces. “Jeez!” he said. “That’s two and a quarter horses! Was that all of them or are you really that good?”

“Never mind, smartass. Let’s get back and get some sleep. Tomorrow you can find the extra pieces you didn’t notice, maybe hidden away in a fold of the bag or whatever.” She grew very serious. “Look, it’s important to me that you understand this. I love your father. I would never leave him, and I wouldn’t want to be with any other man like this. I don’t know what happened between him and your mother because he never talks about it except in vague terms, but if we split up, it’ll be him taking the walk out of male ego, not me. I’m sorry, but the situation’s just different here.”

“All right, I’ll shut up about it,” he assured her, “but only this once. You keep sneakin’ off with these strangers in strange places with no backup and sooner or later somebody’s gonna get you good. People just ain’t that different over here as you like to think they are.”

Not too different at all, he thought, as they rode back in silence, except that these folks have a ready excuse for the wrong things they do. Except that at least these two cared what he felt, and that was something. Something he very much needed, and didn’t want to lose.

When Irving had asked what sort of fairies ran the ferry, the man had told him to wait and see. Now, as it came in, he still wasn’t quite sure. It was a big thing, flat but raised up, with a real hull, and there was a huge single sail on a mast in the center controlled by some kind of rope-and-pulley system that extended to the sides of the ship and seemed to go down into the water. There seemed to be lots of some sort of large fish, maybe dolphins, ahead of it in the water as if scouting the way, but, aboard, there appeared to be no wheel, no wheelhouse, and no apparent crew!

As it drew closer, it was clear that the big fish or whatever they were in front were on lines, like a team of horses attached to a big wagon, and that they were in fact steering the boat that way, although the main propulsion came from the manipulations of the single sail. And there was someone, or something, atop the lead fish, almost invisible from any distance because the creature’s coloration seemed to match or reflect the water.

Now the boat was angled so that the current would take it into shore, the sail slowly folded inward so that it was no longer driving.the boat, and, for a moment, the rider was against the dark background of the boat hull rather than the water. The outline was of an impossibly beautiful girl, almost a cartoon of a sexy girl, only her skin seemed weird, as if she were somehow made of glass or plastic and filled with water.

“A water nymph!” Joe exclaimed. “I never knew they did any work they didn’t have to!”

Tiana nodded. “But what’s pulling and steering? Mermaids?”

At that moment the “fish” team, freed of its tension for a moment, sounded as one, and from the water emerged the ugliest, most fearsome, monstrous heads Irving had ever seen, almost a cross between a lion’s head and maybe the Creature from the Black Lagoon. They roared with a terrible sound that more than fit their horrible visage.

“Hippogryphs!” Joe exclaimed. “Nymphs who never did anything in their lives riding and guiding a beast that I never knew could be tamed! They’ve got to be tame, though. She wouldn’t have the strength to guide them against their wills!”

The water nymph stood atop the lead beast, reins in hand, like a performer in some big water show, pulling this rein and that until the beasts were to one side, out of the way of the boat, which then passed them. The team moved in and started nudging the boat into the landing.

There was no dock as such; just a mud flat that went gently down into and under the water. The boat ran right up on the flat and seemed to dig a little trench as it stuck fast in the shallow mud. Now a couple of human boys, maybe eight or nine years old, who had been sitting on a piece of wood, ran up and started unfastening the front end of the boat, which dropped with a crash onto the mud and created a ramp from the exterior. As soon as the people, horses, and carts inside started to come off, all sorts of adults seemed to pop up from all over the place hawking just about everything and keeping an incessant set of pleas to buy this or that or, “You’ll need this,” as the travelers disembarked.

“It’ll be interesting to see how they collect the fares,” Tiana commented. “Water nymphs must be pretty much in contact with the water at all times or they’ll start to dry out.”

If Joe had been at all aware of the previous night’s activities, he did not let on to either of them, and seemed perfectly happy to accept Irv’s contention that there was more in the purse than he’d thought. He really began to wonder about his Dad, though; he knew that Joe had lightning reflexes and could pop up out of an apparently sound sleep, sword in hand, at the merest sound of danger. For the simple life, the boy thought, things were sure getting complicated, with everybody keeping secrets from everybody else.

Now it was their turn to be besieged by the vendors as they loaded back on. It was kind of the honor system on who got on first, but it wasn’t much of a crowd and the line was pretty much self-enforcing.

Irving looked inside and wasn’t sure he liked it. “Hey! This tub’s sinkin’!”

An old guy with a thick gray beard taking a cart aboard chuckled. “Don’t worry about it none, son. They decide if the water comes in or stays out. Just you wait!”

The small boys who’d unfastened the ramp now waded into the water and got hold of ropes floating there on the surface. Then they ran back and attached hooks on the ropes to an assembly at each end of the ramp and gave a shout. Something pulled on the ropes from the sea, raising the ramp, which hit a wooden catch at the top of each side and clicked into place. The boat lurched this way and that, and suddenly was floating free. The deck had only a few inches of water in it, but now the water seemed to coalesce in clear spots and from those spots arose, almost oozed, the shapes of two of the water nymphs. They had an unnerving, Other-Worldly perfection to them, and they looked exactly alike, each about four feet of total feminine sensuality.

“Don’t touch the hair, boy,” the old man cautioned in a low tone. “It’s like sea nettles. Stings like crazy.”

“Welcome to the Daryia ferry,” they said in unison, in truly musical, singsong voices. “Please give us your fares now as we pass among you. After we are squared away, the water will recede and there is fodder in the forward hold for the animals which is included in the fare.”

“I wonder what happens if you don’t have the fare?” Irv mused.

“Then they take you,” the old man replied.

That was not a comforting thought.

Even up close, the fairy nymphs seemed weird, like beautiful but extreme sculptures made of glass. Irv, like all the other men, couldn’t really take his eyes off the creatures.

When one got to them, Joe, who’d appropriated the money pouch, fished out six gold pieces and dropped them in the nymph’s palm. The pieces sat there a moment, then seemed to sink into her hand, and you could watch the golden coins go down through her into the water and then to who knew where?

“I’ve never heard of nymphs running a ferry before,” Tiana commented. “Nor tamed hippogryphs, either.”

The nymph shrugged. “It beats lying around all day being seductive,” she responded. “It’s an old troll ferry that was abandoned during the War. We looked at it and decided that sitting around looking sexy for a few thousand years had grown kinda old, so we did it. The hippogryphs are not tame. They’re partners.”

Joe thought some reply to that was called for, but, for the life of him, he couldn’t think of one. Finally, Tiana commented, “It’s nice to see some independent businesswomen here for a change.”

As soon as all the fares were collected, the nymphs melted into the water, and, true to their word, the water itself began to drain out somewhere, until the deck was as dry as a bone.

From what was now the front came a series of splashes and an eerie, hypnotic siren song, and the boat began moving in earnest.

Although the crossing should have taken no more than twenty-five or thirty minutes, it was tricky in the crosscurrents of the big river, and there were constant adjustments this way and that.

Finally, Joe muttered, “What I want to know is what they do with their money.”

“Perhaps it is best not to know that one,” Tiana replied. “Even nymphs might like pretty baubles, and who knows how they live under the water, but what and where does a hippogryph go to spend it?”

Irv just shook his head in wonder. Maybe this place wasn’t so much like home after all.

He went over and jumped up on some of the side-bracing so he could look out at the passing scene. The ferry landing was already receding in the distance, and they Were about to clear the bend and go out into the mainstream of the river itself.

As soon as they did clear, he could look back and up and saw, or thought he saw, the point near the next bend where they’d spent the night. Looking the other way, Marquewood still wasn’t much, although, beyond the trees, he thought he saw the roofs of some buildings that perhaps marked the town.

The river itself was amazing, both as a main highway for the entire continent and for supporting lives and livelihoods of both humans and nonhumans. It had an abundance of fish; he’d watched some being caught from small jerry-built piers near the landing, and while the fish looked, well, pretty strange, they were still fish and it was still pretty much what would be expected.

Just in front of them, a small school, or whatever they’d call them, of mermaids popped up out of the water and shouted and waved, not to him or the passengers, but to the strange nymph who was both captain and teamster up ahead. Up close, the mermaids’ skins did have a rather bluish cast not evident from shore, and their hair was a much darker blue, but they still looked remarkably like a bunch of schoolgirls out in the river for a swim.

Part of the reason the trip took so long was the number of small islands that had been built up by the river’s deposits near the bend, forcing them to thread their way through small inlets separating the mounds. And yet, even the small islands were covered with trees and bushes and the nests of exotic tropical birds. Some mermaids were sunning themselves on a big rock at the end of one of the islands, and on shore a number of dark shapes seemed to writhe and then go into the water. Alligators, maybe? Or something else as weird as barking, bearded fish.

Here and there some water nymphs would rise to the surface and seem to walk on or even slightly above the water, shouting things in their operalike singsong voices to those handling the boat. Somehow, it drove home just how vulnerable land-dwelling humans like him were on this thing. Not only did this river have all the dangers of any tropical river or even any deep river, except maybe the ton of pollution Earth added, but it was also home to a number of races as intelligent in their own way as humans were, but as different as night and day from humans as well. There might be whole civilizations living beneath these waters, with who knew what powers and what kind of lives?

Finally, they began to come in to the opposite shore; the one they left now seemed eerily lost in a late morning mist. The town itself was still mostly masked, starting on a bluff well up from the river landing and sheltered by thick, almost junglelike vegetation.

He wanted to see how they came in, but a yell from Joe ordered him down and he reluctantly obeyed. He quickly saw why; the bumps and jolts of the operation might well have shaken him off the side or, if he’d leaned too far forward, into the river itself.

“We’ve still got a little money,” Joe told him, “so we’ll catch a bite to eat here and get what news we can of the route. I want to find out if there’s anything nasty between here and Terindell.”

“We’re not stayin’ here tonight, then? I figured it might be time for another dance,” the boy responded.

“It might be, but it’s still fairly early, and we can make it halfway there, if we keep on, and all the way by tomorrow night. Five or ten miles north and I’ll be in country I know well, which helps a lot.”

“You still worried ’bout that zombie guy, huh? He’s way over on the other side now.”

“He’s on both sides—bet on it. And he’s been down farther than this and a little inland before, so I don’t want to take any chances. Not too many years ago, a demon-led army was literally at the gates of Terindell, and not too long ago, some of the towns between here and there were under Sugasto’s control. If he had to pull back because he was reaching his limit, then we’re still within his limit now. I don’t underestimate the S.O.B. I keep doing that and almost dying or worse as a result. And he’s got a particular set of scores to settle with us, just as we do with him. Last time he controlled things; the next time I want to set the conditions.”

The town, like the vegetation, was rather different than the High Pothique ones he’d been in, but the basics were the same. Gone was any trace of adobe; buildings here were of stone and wood, with thick straw or bamboo or even, in a few cases, red slate roofs. The people seemed a bit more prosperous, although that was like going from zero to almost one on a scale of ten, and had a different look about them. It wasn’t a big difference, but the folk of High Pothique looked more Arabic, while these looked more European, their complexions more tan than olive, their features more like die typical white folks he knew back home.

The men tended to wear white cotton in a uniform, baggy style, often with soft leather boots, and about half tended to wear broad-brimmed, rounded white hats. The women, on the other hand, made those of High Pothique seem almost overdressed, most of them wearing little more than varicolored cotton string bikini bottoms or petite cotton loincloths. They tended to be fatter, or chunkier, on average than those of High Pothique, and most all of them wore oversized earrings, bracelets, and the like of bone or copper or something else, and almost all of them tended to cut their hair real short, almost in a man’s trim cut. Like those of High Pothique, they tended to carry huge amphoras or boxes on their heads, and, also like High Pothique, most seemed to be pregnant, carrying babies as well, and having lots of naked kids around.

It didn’t smell much better, either.

Most of the small cafes were just preparing for lunch, though, so it was possible to get hot, thoroughly cooked food, which always made Irving feel a bit better. Cooking still killed little nasties that wanted at your insides. As usual, he let his father order, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know what some of the stuff was. At this level of cooking, anyway, it all tasted pretty much like whatever it was cooked in, anyway.

Joe picked up his tankard and looked at them. “Two days to real beds and decent food,” he said. He gestured in a sort of a toast. “To the end of the road,” he added, and drank.

The proprietor, over here a man, told them that they’d have to clear border entry at the crossroads; the only road out of town led to there, so it was the border station, to avoid crimping the town’s economy more than any other reason. Travelers who cleared the border here might tend to hurry on past; those who knew they would yet have to usually stopped and spent something. And, of course, going the other way, travelers to High Pothique tended to come here and spend the night before the journey.

The border people would have information on all the roads and routes.

Unlike High Pothique, which seemed pretty loose about its guards and such, this station was almost like a small military stockade built of formidable stone. The blue-and-gold flag of Marquewood flew atop a large pole, and the bordermen were dressed more like soldiers, in uniforms that matched the flag.

Irving looked over next to the flag and tried unsuccessfully to suppress laughing. Standing just beneath it was a huge marble statue of a nude man and woman, bigger than life, looking back at them.

“No wisecracks,” Joe warned. “Besides, we’re going to have enough problems remembering that we’re suddenly nobodies here.”

A soldier, with a trim, brown mustache and military bearing, came up to him. “Do you have any papers?”

“No, sir, although we are all citizens of Marquewood. Although my parents were from a far-off place, I was born in, and am going home to, Terdiera; the lady is of Sachalin origin.”

The soldier nodded, then looked at Irving. “You, young sir, are not of Marquewood, surely.”

“My son,” Joe answered hastily. “I travel a lot in my work.”

The soldier looked at Joe, then the boy, then shrugged. “Apparently so. And from where did you journey?”

“High Pothique, entirely. A well-earned holiday, you might say. Now I am returning to my employer.”

“I see. And who might that be?”

“Ruddygore of Terindell, of course.”

The soldier started a bit. “You work for the sorcerer?”

“Legally, no. But he has first claim on my services.”

The soldier nodded and went to Tiana. “You are of Sachalin?”

“I was born in that city, my lord.”

“And what are you to these two?”

“My lord, I am his slave and mistress,” she responded, pointing to Joe.

The response startled Irving. Hell, she was his wife, wasn’t she? But it seemed to satisfy the guy. Maybe it was an image thing, he decided, or one more of them damned Rules.

“Name and family?”

“My lord knows that upon becoming a slave I gave up my name and family. I am called by whatever name my master chooses, and for now he calls me Ti, after the Blessed Goddess.”

“You were acquired in High Pothique.”

“No, my lord, in Marquewood.”

He nodded, then asked a few specific questions about the far-off city, which she answered perfectly and without hesitation, knowing the place well. He seemed satisfied. “Very well.” He wrote something and handed it to Joe.

“This is your customs entry for the horses and slave,” the border guard told the big man. “She seems to be of Marque-wood and her accent is right, so I will allow her in free of duty. However, if you plan on leaving the kingdom again with her and returning, you should have her fitted with a nose ring to validate her country of origin or you could wind up paying duty.”

Now the borderman walked back to Irving, who had been watching all this with increasing horror. At least he had been properly briefed for his own questions.

“You are not born here?”

“No, sir, first time. I am of age, and my father is taking me to be trained by the one who trained him.”

The border patrolman walked back to Joe. “All seems in order, sir. Left to Terdiera. You are cautioned that most of the route is Royal Preserve—no poaching.”

“Any problems?” Joe asked him. “The last time I was through the Master of the Dead was working down almost past here.”

“He withdrew his forces northward as far as we can tell upon the sorcerer’s return,” the soldier told them. “Your route should be safe, although there are reports of hidden enemy encampments in these parts and occasional bits of nastiness—-cemeteries getting up and taking walks, that sort of thing. Stay on the road and camp only in and around the towns and you should have no trouble. The Majin fairies have been moved in between Hotsphar and Terdiera as they are loyal and have proven resistant to the enemy’s powers, but from a few miles north of here until perhaps the old tollhouse at Grotom Wood there’s been reports of firesprites and possible banshee presence, so don’t camp in there even after dark. Otherwise, no problems.”

Joe nodded, and they moved through the opening to the crossroads and turned left.

“I wonder what that guy considers a problem?” Irving asked no one in particular.