“Of course, you must not ignore any of the three faces of the Great Mother.”
I didn’t argue theology with her. We had found we did not agree on matters of worship. “You’ve never spoken of Mother Bane as one of your Gods.”
“Because it is not wise to do so.”
“Why do the Loltuns sacrifice women to Her altar?”
“It is a matter of theological interpretation.”
“Interpretation?”
“Yes.” She seemed reluctant to speak further, so I let the subject drop. Celandine was not happy that I could argue her into a corner using her own sacred tomes. The black road erupted from the damp meadow grass without marker or warning. It seemed to be made of solid rock, black as if the earth had bled. Legend said that Pelrith of the Red Eye forged the road. And seeing it lying there on the shore of the lake, I believed in demigods calling things forth from the earth. I urged Ulliam forward.
The moment his hooves hit the road, I felt it. The road was dead; no earth-magic sang through it. The horse Celandine was leading shied at the black surface. I moved Ulliam to calm it before the horse she was riding could bolt as well. We rode into Lolth three abreast, with the skittish horse in the middle.
I noticed bumps in the smooth surface of the road, but there was no pattern to them. I dismounted and walked Ulliam until I came to a bump that seemed higher than the others. I knelt and ran a mailed hand over the blackened lump. My eyes could not puzzle it out at first, then suddenly, it was clear. A human skull gaped from the road, barely covered in the black rocklike stuff. And I could not force the image from my mind.
Celandine called, “What is it?”
“Bones. Human bones.”
She made the sign against evil again.
I mounted Ulliam, and we rode on. My eyes were drawn with a horrible fascination to each half-hidden shape as we rode. We traveled on the burial mound of hundreds.
We came to the border guard then. There were only four of them, but two shone magic to my eyes. And I knew that I shone as well. But there was nothing illegal about being a wizard; at least I didn’t think there was. A female wizard might have been stopped, but healers do not shine like wizards. Celandine would seem merely a woman until she healed someone. When she laid hands, she glowed like the full moon.
One man came from behind the wooden gate. He stood in front of me. “Well, you must be an ice elf.”
It was a rather rude way to begin, but I had been prepared for that. It was a killing insult in Varell, but I had been five years from there. It wasn’t the first time someone had called me elf to my face. It would not be the last. “I am Bevhinn Ailir, and this is my wife, Celandine.”
His eyes turned to the healer, and he said, “Oh. She’s a beauty.” He walked over to her and put a hand on her knee, massaging it. Celandine glared at him.
The hand began to creep up her thigh, and she yanked her horse backward. It bumped the man, and he backed away smiling. He said, “You could make money off this one. She would bring a fair price every night you stay in our country.”
“She is a wife, not a whore.”
He shrugged. “There isn’t that much difference, now, is there?”
“There is where I come from.”
“Yes, the Varellians and their reverence for females. You and your queen.”
I had had about enough of this. “Can we pass, or must we stand here and be insulted?”
He frowned at that and said, “I’d keep that fancy armor hidden. There are those who would take it from you.”
I smiled at him, forcing him to stare into my alien eyes. “It is good armor, but surely men aren’t eager to die for a suit of armor they would never fit into.”
He returned the smile and said, “I would love to see one of your Varellian women. You’re pretty enough to eat yourself.”
I said, voice low, “Your two friends over there can tell you I’m a wizard. And this wizard has grown very tired of you.” I flexed a hand for dramatic emphasis, and he backed away. Truth was, an earth-witch wasn’t big on instant magic, but they didn’t know that. With my power tied to the spring, I sparkled like a sorcerer. It was a good time of year to bluff.
The gate opened, and he called after us, “May you run afoul of a black healer.”
I answered back over my shoulder, “And may the next wizard you torment blow your head off.”
Forest stretched on either side of the road. The birds and beasts didn’t know they had crossed a border. In truth, it looked much like the wild lands where we had spent the winter, except for the road.
Farmland opened on either side of the road, fighting back the trees; the smell of fresh-plowed earth was strong and good. The soil was a rich black. I felt an urge to crumble the dirt in my hands and feel its growing power, but I resisted. Ulliam danced nervously under me.
Forest returned, hugging each side of the road. But no blade of grass, no wildflower dared to encroach upon the black road. It was late in the day when we heard a loud cracking noise, like a cannonball striking wood. The horses pranced in fright, and even Ulliam shivered under me. There was a tearing sound, as if the earth itself were being pulled apart. We rode cautiously toward the sounds.
A wide path had been freshly cleared from the forest. Trees with jagged trunks lay in heaps on their sides. Stumps lay in a second heap, earth-covered roots bare to the sky. Stooping to pull another great stump from the ground was a demon. His skin was night-black. Muscles bulged along his back and arms. His ribbed bat ears curled tight with his effort as he strained upward. The roots ripped free of the earth. He put the stump in the pile with the rest. He caught sight of us on the road, and we all stared at each other. A silver necklace glittered round his neck. The cold eye of a diamond the size of a hen’s egg winked out from it. From here it glowed with magic.
Celandine looked at me. Was this our demon’s help, or was the token inside the demon? I hoped it wasn’t the latter. I didn’t see myself slitting the gullet of a greater demon.
A man stepped out of the trees. He was thin, and a scraggly beard edged his pointed chin. He said, “Be on your way. You’re distracting him.”
“I am sorry, good farmer, but I have never seen a greater demon before.”
A look of incredulity passed over his face. “You swear by Loth’s bloody talons that you’ve never seen a greater demon?”
“I swear.”
He smiled then, friendly. “Well, you have started out with a greater demon named Krakus. He’s been ensorcelled to the farmers hereabout for over fifty years. He’s cleared most of the fields along this road.”
I stared at the demon, and there was something in his smooth yellow eyes that said hatred. A hatred deeper than anything I could feel.
“Good farmer, are you never afraid of him breaking free?”
“No, the enchantment on him is strong enough.”
“What would happen if he ever was freed?”
The farmer looked back at the demon, the smile gone. “Why, he’d kill me and everyone else he’d worked for.”
“Where do you keep the demon when he’s not working? Does he go back to the pits from which he came?”
The man found the question very funny. “Why, you don’t know anything about demons. An ensorcelled demon can’t leave the place he’s been put, just can’t leave. We keep him chained at night near where he’s working.”
I shivered under the gaze of those sullen yellow eyes. “I hope you keep a guard on him at night, farmer.”
“Oh we do, but nothing to worry about. He’ll still be pulling stumps fifty years from now.” The farmer walked back into the cleared area and slapped the demon lightly on the arm. “No, we couldn’t lose such a good worker. Get back to work, Krakus.” The demon turned without a word or a snarl and stood before a full-grown tree. With one gesture and a flash of sorcery he felled the tree, blasting it off a few feet above the ground. The farmer went to sit in the sunshine. Our interview was over.
Celandine and I rode in silence for a short time, then she asked, “Do you think that is the demon who will help us?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know. Then what are we doing here? What good is prophecy if you don’t know what it means?”
“None, I suppose.”