Chapter 8: CultChapter 8: Cult

ale was both thrilled and tormented when Havoc returned. She had been busy, setting up a route of her own to pursue, and especially with the mental disease she had deliberately contracted. Ennui and Throe, the bodyguard, had been of great help, but that had been no easy course.

Yet it was worthwhile, because once she learned to control it, and to extend the existing shield of her thoughts, it was a phenomenal tool for interper-sonal dealings. But none of this seemed to matter much, once she knew that Havoc was back.

She dared not meet him alone, but could not stay away from him. So she met him with Ennui and Throe, who were pledged to keep them apart by whatever means were necessary. What an irony, that she could not embrace the man she loved.

They intercepted him at the base of the elevator. He was with the girl Bijou, who looked healthy and satisfied. She surely was, having had Havoc to herself all this time.

Hello, Gale. It was the girl, addressing her mentally. And with that thought was a freighting of emotion that almost overwhelmed her. Bijou loved Havoc, completely and selflessly, but was dedicated to leaving him when his conve-382 Key to Havoc

nience called for it. She was deeply envious of Gale, the one Havoc loved in return, but bore her no ill will.

Gale opened her arms, and her thoughts, and Bijou stepped into them both. They embraced, and cried together, sharing their complementary agonies of love necessarily denied, needing to say nothing more. They had become sisters in emotion.

Meanwhile Ennui was embracing Havoc. She loved him too, but in a qualitatively different way. Their friendship had started with an oath, but broadened into a bond somewhere between parent/child and sibling, with more than a tinge of passion in the background. Ennui, especially, would do anything for Havoc. Gale now understood why: it was the magic of the changelings. But absolutely real, regardless.

"I've got to kiss him!" Gale said.

Ennui glanced at her with compassion. "You may do so. But if you get the urge to do anything more, Throe will grab Havoc, and Bijou will grab you, pulling the two of you apart, and I will wedge between. You will not resist.

You understand."

"We understand," Havoc said.

Then they came together, and embraced, and kissed, and the longing of another month's separation surged up around them like a fiery flood, and the planet wobbled crazily on its axis. She had never longed for him more intensely than at this moment, and his longing embraced her more closely than his arms. They had to be one.

Gale found herself facing Ennui, whose hair and clothing were disheveled. Gale's arms were held back behind her, and her own clothing was badly askew. Havoc stood behind Ennui, and Throe behind him, holding him back similarly. They were all breathing hard.

They had indeed tried to go farther, in the heat of their mutual desire, and the others had indeed stepped in to prevent it. Gale knew it had been necessary, because her groin was burningly wet, and she had felt Havoc's imperative erection without having to see it.

My fault, Swale thought. That passion overwhelmed me, and I tried to take him.

I couldn't help myself.

Gale knew how it was. "I don't think we can kiss any more," she told Havoc as Bijou released her from behind.

"Not unless they build two cages for us, so only out lips can touch," he agreed ruefully. "Gale--" He didn't need to continue; his mind was pouring it out.

"Stop it, you two," Ennui snapped. "You'll have us all copulating on the Piers Anthony 383

floor."

They laughed, but it was a reaction more of understanding than of mirth.

"Maybe we can hold hands," Gale said, unable to contemplate being entirely separate from Havoc, even if only by a few feet.

They tried it. Throe stood before Havoc, and brought Havoc's right arm under his own. Bijou stood before Gale, taking her left arm similarly.

Ennui stood in the middle, taking their hands in each of hers and putting them together before her. There was an almost electric tingle as their fingers touched and linked, and their arms tightened convulsively, but the framework held.

Grouped in that manner, they rode the elevator up to the king's apartment. "What a price we pay, for doing what we believe is right," Havoc murmured.

"When Gale's mission is done, and Swale has gone her own way, you can be together," Ennui said.

"But if we still can't marry--" Gale said.

"You can still be his lover. That's often the better relationship."

"Not for us," Havoc said, and Gale agreed.

"But half a loaf is better than none."

"We want it all," Gale muttered.

They reached the top. They disengaged, though the others had to actually pry the two sets of fingers apart. Then they marched into the apartment, with Havoc to the left of the group, and Gale to the right.

"I need to go on my mission," Gale said. "Bijou, I think you will have to be me a while longer."

"I'll come with you, and learn your story," the girl said.

"That may be best," Ennui agreed.

The two of them peeled off and went to the Lady Aspect's suite. She welcomed Bijou in the manner of an equal, a graciousness Gale noted and appreciated. Then they talked, keeping it mostly verbal in deference to Aspect, but also because it helped to organize their sometimes chaotic thoughts and keep them simple enough to follow.

Some of what Bijou had to tell was routine, for Havoc: his indefatigable strength, fighting off brigands, indulging joyfully in sex, and insisting on battling a dangerous golem personally. Some was interesting: preventing a forest spider from attacking by remembering Gale's own experience with Yellow, siring a village woman's fourth (and not enjoying it!), and going on a lake in a

peddle boat. Some was alarming: the water bomb, the avalanche, and the semen trap of the female golem. It had been a fine adventure, overall.

384 Key to Havoc

"He's falling in love with you," Gale said sadly.

"Oh, no, Lady Gale!" the girl protested. "I love him; I can't help it, but he loves you."

The Lady Aspect interceded. "A man is not limited to a single love. He can, and often does, love several. They are not exclusive."

"But he knows I must finish my time here, and depart and marry. I asked only that he sire my fourth, after I lose the wire, so I can have that much

of him, the rest of my life."

"A nice compromise," the Lady Aspect said. "But what if the Lady Gale is unable ever to marry him? Would he marry you?"

The girl stared at her, her jaw slack. It was in her mind: she had literally never dreamed of that.

"And then I would become his lover," Gale said wryly. "Half a loaf."

"It can be worthwhile," Aspect said, sad in her turn. "I would have traded places with the Lady Symbol, were it possible."

"That's another thing," Bijou said suddenly. "We think Symbol's another changeling."

They explored that, surprised. "It does make sense," Gale said. "She has those qualities."

"Symbol is a fine woman," Aspect said seriously. "But I think you should keep Bijou close to Havoc, lest he be with Symbol. You do not want the competition of a changeling, now that we know their nature."

"True."

"But I never--" Bijou protested.

Gale smiled, though it was painful. "That's why I prefer you with him. I will never truly lose him to you."

"But--but marriage--"

"Common folk do become queens," Aspect said. "I did. And though I could not hold King Deal's love completely, neither did I lose it completely, and it was an excellent life." She glanced at Gale. "And still is very good, thanks to Havoc."

"And you would be able to bear three by him," Gale said to Bijou, "and have them recognized."

Their dialogue continued, but Bijou was largely lost to it. Her prospective horizons had been enlarged beyond her fondest imagination. Gale found that she liked the girl; she was straightforward and loyal, and Havoc did appreciate her very well. She had not said so, but her peripheral thought had given her away: she had tried to sacrifice her life for him, when the water bomb threatened. She had also volunteered her life in marriage to a Brown Piers Anthony 385

Chroma man, as the prize if Havoc lost his contest in the arena. That kind of devotion was not to be lightly dismissed.

Gale did not delay her mission; it was too painful being close to Havoc without daring to touch him. The false king was moved out with his affec-tionate bath girl, and Havoc resumed wearing the crown. Bijou, again made up to resemble Gale, accompanied him on public appearances, and in the bedroom. She was doing an excellent job, perhaps because the mind disease enabled her to take hidden cues from Havoc, when he removed his crown, or from one of the others, and no outsider suspected her identity. So it seemed best for Gale to go, hoping that once the matter of the torture cult was settled,

she would be able to embrace Havoc again, safely.

I'm sorry to have caused you so much mischief, Swale thought. She was becoming steadily more human as she associated with Gale, though she still had a distance to go before she could be considered a normal woman.

But you may enable us to locate the one who is trying to kill Havoc.

I hope so.

So it was that she joined a trade caravan whose route would intersect that of another caravan that was going in the direction she needed to go.

Swale knew the way, but she had traveled spiritually, not limited to the human paths. She had gone direct, across water, over mountains, and through jungles.

Gale would have a rather more arduous journey. So it would be a compromise between direct and practical, and would take some time. But they would get there.

What they would do once there, Gale wasn't sure. Havoc was equipped to charge in and wipe out a nest of enemies with a swift net and sword, but Gale, though no weakling as a woman, was nevertheless far from being a man. She would try to get close enough to read some minds, and then return to report to Havoc. She was under strict orders not to risk her safety. But they both knew that her safety could not be assured. It was a balancing of dangers: that to her, and that to Havoc if they did not discover the identity of

his enemy.

She met the caravan master. He was of course called Trader. He was a jolly and portly man who had obviously done well over the years. "I am Red River Girl, for this trip," she said. "I understand you can use an entertainer."

He nodded, appraising her. "What kind of an entertainer are you?"

"I sing ballads and act parts."

"You have an instrument?"

"Hammer dulcimer."

"You are competent with it?"

386 Key to Havoc

"Quite." Indeed, she was the best player on this instrument in her village of origin, and the surrounding territory. For the past two years she had instructed others in its technique.

He seemed doubtful. "You do not provide sexual comfort for needy men?"

Don't go for that, Swale advised. You'll have to sleep in the day.

"I do not," Gale agreed.

"Too bad. We can provide you only safety and sustenance."

"That will do."

"If you change your mind, we can add a fair stipend in trade goods and a softer bed."

"You will have to get another girl for that."

He shrugged. "Here is your bunk." He showed her a spot on the back of a wagon loaded with rolls of fine cloth. "It is best to use it only when the

wagon is parked; those rolls are heavy, and are apt to shift position on the bumps."

"I'll walk," she agreed.

"I will introduce you to the mess personnel."

They were soon on their way. Trader did hire a comfort girl, who did get a better bunk, but Gale was satisfied. Just as Swale had warned, the poor girl was busy almost all night, and had to sleep by day on the bumpy wagon. Even that was frequently interrupted as the wagon tenders and trading hands found spare moments for indulgence. She was certainly working for her keep.

So was Gale, of course, but her job was easier. The first night on the trail the caravan circled its wagons on a cleared site, posted guards, and settled

down for the evening. Gale was fed early so that she could entertain while the others ate.

She stood on a small temporary platform in the center of the closed circle and announced herself. "I am Red River Girl, and here is my theme song." She sat on the edge and let her bare legs dangle. They were good legs, and the men closest were taking notice. She put her small dulcimer in her lap.

She played it with tiny hammers attached to the fingers of her left hand. The theme was magically amplified, and carried throughout the circle.

Most of the men of the caravan had been paying only partial attention, focusing on their food and the details of the day. Now their attention focused on her.

"I need a volunteer," Gale said. "A handsome man. All he needs to do is sit beside me and follow my cues--and only my cues."

There was a pause. Then Trader stepped forth. "This first night I will Piers Anthony 387

do it. I can follow cues."

Gale saw in his mind that he was protecting her. Some young males were all right; others were not. He knew the difference, but suspected she did not. She appreciated the gesture.

There was a rumble of laughter. Trader was anything but a handsome man. He was of middle age, oblong of face, and portly to the verge of fatness. But he had a good heart.

Trader sat on the edge of the platform beside her, to her right. She played the melodic theme again, and spoke. "We believe this song originated in a valley through which a river from a Red Chroma flowed, so there was magic in it and along its banks. But some believe that it is even older, and dates from the world far across the sky where we came from. We may never know for sure, but the feelings it expresses remain real for us, regardless of our Chroma." Indeed, it was a ballad so old that its origin was lost in the mists of time.

She turned her head toward Trader, addressing him as she broke into song. "From this Chroma they say you are leaving. When you go, may your darling go too? Would you leave her behind unprotected, when she loves no other but you?"

Her voice was professionally good, as was her playing. She had their full attention. She was a pretty girl with a pretty voice, and knew it. "Come and sit by my side if you love me. Do not hasten to bid me adieu. But remember the Red River Valley, and the girl who has loved you so true."

She spoke to Trader, loud enough for the audience to hear: "Eyes front."

Then she put a hand on his arm, as if beseeching him. Trader stared straight ahead, as if oblivious, while the men of the audience chuckled appreciatively.

As if any man would be stupid enough to ignore such a girl!

She sang again, almost into his left ear.

"I have promised you darling that never

Will a word from my lips cause you pain.

And my heart it will be yours forever

If you will only love me again."

And she kissed his ear. There was a small sigh of longing from the audience, and the comfort girl frowned; Gale was both increasing her business and making the men less satisfied, because that girl could not compete with the romance Gale was inspiring.

She went on through the song, embracing the stolid Trader with her 388 Key to Havoc

right arm, leaning into him, touching his shoulder with her tender bosom, festooning him with strands of her flowing hair. These loving gestures were interspersed with verbal cautions to keep his hands to himself (they were), remove his smirk (his face was sober), and to keep his clothing on (it was), and the audience was enjoying the mock reprimands hugely. The presentation was an outstanding success.

But Gale was hurting inside. The sentiment of the song was too close to her own situation. Havoc loved her, but had to leave her. She understood, but it was nevertheless painful. Her heart would be his forever, if only he could be with her.

But after this mission, I'll be gone, Swale thought. Then you can be with him.

But could she? She remembered an old comment, about a tie in a contest being like kissing one's sister. Man and woman together, but no passion and no future in it. She was closer to Havoc than a sister; they were like twins.

They could embrace, they could have sex, but she would never dare remove the wire. They could not marry, any more than siblings could. They could be lovers, but they could not have children, not even a fourth. Their relationship

was doomed to be forever sterile. How could she live with that? It hardly mattered that Havoc felt the same way; it didn't change the reality.

You can take another lover. He has.

Havoc of course loved sex. Gale loved it with him. Elsewhere she could take it or leave it. It was easier to leave it. But the succubus had hit on another distress: Havoc did have a girl, and the girl loved him and supported him completely. So he was not as lonely as Gale. Gale could do the same, but there was no man in sight who might appeal in that manner. If she encountered one, she would consider. But she knew that there was no man like Havoc.

The caravan moved on. It was late in the Air Season, which some called Fall, and soon would be the Void Season, which some called Winter, as Charm swung from Vivid toward Void. The irregular flares of the dark sun guaranteed that the weather would be unstable, and they were delayed several times by storms. But in due course they reached Gale's immediate destination: the Sulvan Sea. This was a body of water the size of a continent, and site of the largest Translucent Chroma territory. The volcano was deep under the sea, but was reputed to be very large, because the sea was formed from its emissions. Some water volcanoes were high, and jetted streams of hot water that flowed into magic rivers, but this one was hidden by its own ambiance.

Gale, in canvas trousers and a water resistant vest against the wet sea breeze, looked out across its expanse. She could not see the far shore, which Piers Anthony 389

wasn't surprising, but it surprised her nevertheless. She had seen ponds and lakes, but never anything approaching this. It was just so huge!

The trading path turned to follow the shoreline, which was the border between Chroma. The wagons of the caravan proceeded along it. But there was another path, of a different kind, that crossed the surface of the sea. It looked as if there were a transparent mat laid along it, smoothing down the wavelets in that one region. It led straight out to the horizon, and was the one

she had to take.

It's scary, seeing it this way, Swale thought. One misstep and you'll drown.

I can swim.

Not better than the sharks.

The succubus was right: this was nervy business.

Trader paused, standing beside Gale. "This is where we separate. We return this way in two weeks. Will you be here?"

"I hope so."

"If you are not, we will not be able to wait."

"I understand."

"But we would like to have you with us again. Your music--" He shrugged.

"Thank you. It has been a pleasure journeying with you."

"It has been a pleasure having you along. Now I must give you something."

"Trader, we agreed there was to be no stipend."

"No stipend," he agreed. "But last night a messenger came, carrying only a small package. He said it was for you. I said I would give it to you, and

he rode on. Here it is." He produced a little nondescript box tied by a ragged piece of string. "He said that no one but you must open it. I have no reason to fear it, but lady, I am by nature suspicious of anonymous gifts. Would you prefer me to open it in your presence?"

"But if it contains something deadly, that will put you in danger. You hardly owe me any such gesture."

"True. And surely it is merely a trinket sent by some shy admirer. Still--"

"Thank you, but I think it proper to take my own risks. I will open it in your presence, however. Then if it turns out to be unwelcome, you will know to distrust any future such gift to any member of your caravan."

He nodded. She was sure he did have a concern, but he was also driven by curiosity. He handed her the package.

She took it and removed the string, tucking it into a pocket; she didn't like to waste anything that might be useful again. Though the box looked like 390 Key to Havoc

cardboard, it was actually of smooth wood, well made. Inside was something yellow.

She put her hand in, cautiously. The dragon seed did not buzz, so she picked up the object. It was a model of a yellow spider. With its seven legs spread, it was about the size of her fist. The size Yellow had been in the early

days of their association. Every detail was correct.

"Lovely," she breathed.

"That's an unkind joke!" the trader protested.

"No, it's a memento of a fond memory. I know who sent this."

"You have a fond memory of an ugly spider? Who would know that?"

"A childhood sweetheart." She stroked the spider's furry torso.

"He wishes to win you back?"

"No, he knows he can't marry me, or even possess me."

"Why would he take such trouble to send you such a gift, then?"

"To show he still cares." She returned the spider to its box, and put the box into her backpack, not willing to consider it further lest she dissolve into

tears. "Thank you for delivering this. I do appreciate it."

"You are welcome, Red River Girl. I must return to my caravan."

"Yes, of course. I regret having delayed you."

He hesitated. "This region--it is not safe for a woman alone. Not one such as you. If you come, on your return trip, and see our recent tracks, and can signal us, I will send a man back for you."

"Thank you, Trader," she said, touched. It was a nice gesture. She knew from his mind that his generosity was partly because he found her sexually appealing, but also partly because she was about the age of his daughter, about whom he felt guilt for prolonged absences, and partly because her presence had made normally quarrelsome wagoneers and drovers relatively passive. So she was a net asset to the caravan, and was certainly worth her keep.

But she did not care to let him know about her ability to read minds, so she kissed him on the cheek, and set forth on the sea path.

It was slightly spongy, but firm enough. She could see the off-white sand descending beneath the water's surface, and small fish gliding through.

Then the bottom faded in gloom, and she lengthened her stride. She had to reach the Translucent Chroma before the weather changed. She didn't want to be caught on this path in a storm. It would be too easy to get blown off the enchanted way.

He's watching your tight rear end.

"How do you know without using my eyes?" she asked, sure that her words would not carry far.

Piers Anthony 391

I don't need to look. I know men and I know your rear. Why do you think women are made the way we are?

Point made. Gale lowered her mind mask. Sure enough, there was her tight bottom flexing with its propulsive motion. The only mind in range was Trader's, so it was definitely him.

Let me do it.

Gale relinquished control of the body, and Swale took over. Gale felt the subtle shifting and rearranging of balance and tension. Suddenly the image in the mind behind expanded, becoming sharper, and the clothing dissolved from around it.

There was a splash. Startled, Gale paused and turned. Trader was picking himself up. He had, it seemed, taken an inadvertent step along the sea path. The water had not supported him, and he had fallen in.

"That was mean," she told Swale.

Couldn't resist.

But it has shown her one thing: the water path was for her alone. That meant that the folk of Translucent knew she was coming, and perhaps knew her business. That was good.

The path curved. She could tell because the rising wind was making ragged ripples everywhere except there. She walked along it with escalating mixed feelings. It was an easy path, being level, and that was good. But it traversed dark depths that made her increasingly nervous. She could swim, but she was getting pretty far from shore, and the water was surely cold.

You're forgetting the sharks.

"I was trying to."

Worse, a storm was sweeping in. She saw the mass of clouds banking up, and a column of grayness that suggested falling rain. The path was wending toward it.

Maybe we had better hurry.

Gale agreed. She leaned forward and broke into a jog. She was afraid the path might weaken or give way, but it held. She ran as fast as she reasonably could, and liked the feeling of the workout. She had picked up from Havoc the need to exercise, honing her body to better performance and keeping it in shape as a thing of beauty. The pack weighed her down, but she could handle it. However, she would need a more supportive bra if she did this often.

If anyone's watching from in front, he's getting his money's worth.

"Is everything sexual to you?" she panted.

Yes.

392 Key to Havoc

It was a fair answer for a succubus. Gale ran on, pleased with the way her body was performing. She had not lost much conditioning.

She came to a rise. Startled, she looked again: it was a large wave, rolling under the path. She crested it and ran down into the vale beyond--and saw a landscape, or rather a seascape. There were shrubs and boulders on an irregular surface. Just like land, except that these were formed from water.

She turned her head to look back toward shore, but couldn't see it. The sea rose up in a series of hills that walled it off. Ahead was a valley, and through that valley meandered a river.

A river? On the sea?

Oh, sure. This is the Translucent Chroma. Everything's made of water.

"But how can a river be on the sea?" she asked plaintively.

It can be anywhere it wants.

Gale walked down to the river. The path crossed it on a glassy bridge.

She knelt and put a finger to it. It was cold and wet. But what had she expected? It was water.

She stood and resumed walking. The storm had disappeared. The bushes were being replaced by trees. Still curious, she walked across to touch the trunk of what might be a water oak. It was solid, though translucent like everything else. It had branches, twigs, and leaves she could touch that felt exactly like the trees of nonChroma. It wasn't frozen; it was air temperature.

You left the path.

Oops! But she hadn't fallen in. Apparently she had entered the Translucent Chroma territory proper, and the Sulvan Sea had become solid. It all would have seemed quite ordinary, if she hadn't seen the broad expanse of the sea ahead, and known that it couldn't be ordinary.

She returned to the path and walked on along it. Surely it led where she was going, in its own time.

Soon she saw a house made of glass, or solidified water. She went to the door and knocked. The translucent panel felt and sounded just like wood.

In a moment, the door opened. A translucent man stood there. He was not invisible in the manner of Symbol, but she could see through the thinner parts of his clothing and his body. "May I help you?" he inquired, sounding just like a man. His eyes as they studied her were just like those of a typical

man, too.

"Greeting. I am Gale of Village Trifle, on a mission for the king. I need to enlist the help of the Translucent Chroma."

"Then you have come to the right place. Come in Gale, and tell me about it. I am Placebo."

Piers Anthony 393

"Appreciation." She stepped in past him as he held the door.

He's a handsome young lout. But what's that name?

So he was, now that she was adapting to his monochromatic translucency. He was of man height and build, with short hair and a compact face.

Somewhat like her mental picture of the man the Red River Girl sang to.

"You must be tired," Placebo said. "Have a chair." He indicated a padded translucent chair.

She sat in it, and it was comfortable. He brought a footstool, and she put her feet on it. That was more comfortable.

"Would you like something to eat? To drink?"

Gale was nonplused. "This isn't really a social call. You don't have to cater to me."

Placebo looked abashed. "It gets lonely here. I'm just so glad to see someone. Maybe I get too enthusiastic. I apologize."

There was no buzz from the dragon seed. He was telling the truth. "No need," she said quickly. "I just expected more formality."

"Maybe a glass of milk? We have excellent sea cows, and more than enough."

He wants to please you.

"In that case, all right."

He fetched a glass of water. She sipped it--and it tasted like milk. Oh--

it was milk, translucent like everything else here.

Placebo sat down opposite her. "Now what is your mission for the king? I didn't mean to delay your report."

But now Gale preferred to go slow. She still wasn't quite accustomed to the environment of translucency, and the evident friendliness of the young man gave her additional pause. "If I may--can we talk a moment? Before getting down to business."

He smiled winningly. "I'll be happy to talk, Gale. I haven't seen anyone in days, let alone a lovely woman."

"Let's exchange namings. I admit to being curious about yours."

"Of course. I was raised near to the Translucent Volcano, where magic is especially strong. But though the other children had magic, I seemed to have only the simple routine abilities, like modest illusion, modest levitation,

modest conjuration and the like. I couldn't mind read at all, which of course made me a laughing stock. But one day our village had visitors from the Blue Chroma. We children tried not to stare; we had never seen blue people before. They had almost no magic--that is, theirs wouldn't work in the heart of our Chroma--so they needed assistance to get around. I was assigned to 394 Key to Havoc

help a girl my own age, eight. She was--once I got used to her color, she was pretty. Her name was I think Bluette, though I'm not sure, because all otherChroma names sound alike to me. She asked me to float her to the roof so she could look around. She didn't know that it was all I could do to float a pebble to waist height; a whole person to roof height was way beyond my means. I tried to explain, but she didn't understand. `You're Translucent, in the heart of the Water Chroma. Of course you have great powers of magic.

Now stop teasing me and boost me up.' So I, abashed, made the attempt--

and lifted her and myself right to the top of the house. I had never had power like that, yet there it was, as if routine. Then Bluette was hungry--she was a rather demanding girl, but I was bemused by her prettiness and just wanted to please her--and she ordered a plate of cookies. I tried to explain that I could conjure only a few crumbs, but she stared at me imperiously.

Ì'll

tell my folks you were mean to me, and they'll tell your folks, and then they'll

ream your rump.' So I made an effort, and conjured a huge plate of cookies.

Bluette was surprised that they were translucent, but when she tried one, it was her favorite flavor, so she was satisfied. And I was privately amazed, again. How was it that I could suddenly perform these feats, when I never could before? There were not even our specialty; none of the other children had power such as I had suddenly shown. But I had little time to ponder that, because Bluette was already making more demands, and I was scrambling to fulfill them. In the process I performed more magic than I had ever dreamed possible. Everything except mind reading; she never asked for that, and I doubt I could have done it anyway, because that had always been completely blocked from me. And it was worth it, not just for the magic, but because I did manage to please her, and before she left she got me into a game of Tickle

& Peek and I got to see her blue legs all the way up to--"

He broke off, suddenly realizing that he was saying way too much. He flushed, turning a darker translucent. "I'm sorry, I am embarrassed, I talk too

much, I apologize, I'll stop."

He's a prize. I haven't seen such naïveté since Lad Student on the other tour. It's sort of touching.

Gale leaned forward and took his hand. "Don't stop, Placebo. I will be as candid, in a moment. I find what you are saying most interesting."

"You do?" he asked, boyishly amazed. "You're not just saying that?"

"I'm not just saying that. Do continue." She did not let go of his hand.

"But I forgot myself so far as to describe-"

"Girls do have legs, and we show them to boys we like. Tickle & Peek is merely the pretext. Continue."

Piers Anthony 395

Thus encouraged, he resumed. "All the way up to her thighs. Even the curve of her--her bottom. It was so amazing to see it in blue, just like a real

one. And she seemed as curious about my body as I was about hers, though translucent is ordinary, of course. So I had the much better bargain. Then it was time for her to return to her family. She kissed me, and I floated us down to the ground. That was all, with her; I never saw her again, though I'll never

forget her. Those blue legs-" He shrugged. "But later I had time to really wonder what had happened. I tried to float a rock up over my head, and it rose only an inch. I tried to conjure another plate of cookies, and got only a crumb. I was back to normal. So how had it been possible? It couldn't have been Bluette, because she had no magic in our Chroma; she had depended on me. She had believed in me, and I had done it. I asked my father, and he said it was the placebo effect, which means that something isn't really potent, it just works because people think it will. Bluette was sure I could do it, and so

I could. And so I came by my name, Placebo, and now--" He stared at her, stricken. "Oh, damn! Now I've told you, and you know I can't do real magic, so there won't be any such effect. I knew I should have kept my fool mouth shut."

What a charmer! I could seduce him while wearing a chastity belt.

Gale squeezed his hand. "If you did it when you were with her, and she had no magic, your name is a misnomer; you must have done it yourself."

"Yes, but she believed. That's the effect. If I had only let you believe--"

"Let me tell you about my naming." Gale did not care to tell him that with her ability to read minds, it didn't matter what he had or hadn't told her;

she would have known anyway. She told him about her own Naming, which included the story of the yellow spider, and the way she helped it survive, and

then Yellow helped her by saving her from being molested or worse, and how she had covered by sending Yellow away and saying that a wind had made the noise others overheard. So she came to be Gale, in part because she wasn't really believed.

"And as for Tickle & Peek," she said, "I played that many times with my friend Havoc, who is now king. We showed each other everything, leaving no secrets from each other. Later we became lovers, but now we can't be. And that relates to my mission here."

"I will help you if I can," Placebo said sincerely.

"I was investigating something at the Temple. Someone sent a succubus after me. We fought, and I captured the succubus. Now she will show me where the enemy who sent her is. It is just beyond the Translucent Chroma demesnes, and the party I seek is dangerous. So I need the help of Translu-396 Key to Havoc

cent magic, and I need a guide, because though the succubus knows where it is, she never used an ordinary route. She floated through earth, water, and air

directly to me."

"Who is this enemy?"

"We call it the torture cult. It--"

Placebo frowned. "I know of it. We do not like it as our neighbor, but have not had cause to act against it. As a matter of propriety, we do not act without reason."

"Now you have reason: the king wants it abolished, and wants to know why it sent the succubus after me. We don't think it can be our enemy, so much as acting for that enemy. So we need information from it. Will you help?"

"Of course I will help! I am here to handle the concerns of our visitors, and the king's word is law."

"But don't you have to verify my identity, and make contact with the king to verify my mission?"

"No. We already knew that a king's representative was being sent. We did not know why. Now I know that too. It is my assignment to help you accomplish your mission. As a private matter."

"But don't you have to conduct me to your Chroma authorities? To get their authorization?"

"No. I already have their authorization. They want it accomplished without publicity, as they understand that this is the way the king wants it.

I

will take you to the torture cult. But I must warn you of two things. First, it

is some distance from here, which will require a fair trek, because we aren't supposed to use magic in the approach. The use of magic would immediately alert the torture cult, and it would have time to organize a protest which might cause the Chroma representatives to rescind the authorization. They do not like publicity about any Chroma taking serious action against others."

"I appreciate that. We do want it handled quietly, which is why my mission is unofficial."

"Yes. The second thing is that I was supposed to have sufficient magic to help you. But I made the error of explaining too much about my name, and now I will have very little magic. It would be better for you to have another guide. But that would entail delay and complication. Yet it may be better to do that, rather than go into that dangerous place without sufficient support. I can't even read minds, so will not be able to warn you of the approach of hostile people or creatures. I may be the worst person of my Chroma for your purpose."

Piers Anthony 397

Gale pondered briefly. She had expected to have some significant Chroma magic supporting her. Should she risk this? What do you think, Swale? she asked the succubus.

How can you trust me not to lead you into doom?

You want to recover your body, and be fairly treated. I remain your best hope.

If you truly believe that, you would free me, trusting me to remain with you.

I will free you, if you wish.

No! They might summon me, and I would go, unable to resist.

You can't remain where you are indefinitely. For one thing, my cycle--

You have no cycle while I am here.

Gale was startled, realizing that it was true. She should already have cycled, and had not.

"Are you all right?" Placebo inquired.

Gale smiled. "Your simple question put me into deeper conjecture than I expected. I do not want to go foolishly into danger, yet time is important."

"I wish I had stopped my mouth in time! They told me only that a woman would arrive. I just--I expected a dour spinster. Your mien unsettled me."

Go with him. He's cute and harmless.

That was Gale's conclusion. "I regret unsettling you. But I do believe that you can perform that magic when you have reason. Meanwhile I prefer not to use any magic we don't have to, because I understand that attracts attention. I will accept you as my guide."

"I understand. Of course it is better to be safe. I--" He did a double take. "You will?"

She squeezed his hand. "Yes.

"But it really isn't wise to--I mean, there are dangers. This is no simple excursion."

Shut him up: flash him your cleavage.

Good idea. Gale's free hand quietly undid a fastening. "There are dangers in waiting, too. So I think it best to move right along."

"Maybe the elders will respond more quickly than usual. I could send--"

He lost his voice, for Gale was leaning forward, seemingly coincidentally, and her partly open shirt was showing the separation of her breasts. It was a very nice view, as she saw it reflected in his mind; she had found just the right angle, wherein suggestion provided more exposure than the actually visible arc segments. She was playing Peek with him, without Tickle. In some ways 398 Key to Havoc

that was more effective.

You have the finest body I ever saw. I wish I could have been there when you used it with that hunk Havoc. But that was before I came to you.

"I'm so glad you agree," Gale said to Placebo, committing him. "Let's get started immediately."

"Yes, of course," he said vaguely, the arcs distracting him. "I'll leave a message for my replacement." He got up and turned away, but the after-image of a smooth mountain valley remained in his mind.

But he's not the same as Lad Student, Swale concluded. He's about twenty, and should be married. I wonder why he isn't?

Gale had the answer to that from his mind: he needed to complete his tour of duty first. As with Havoc, some things pre-empted marriage. He had volunteered for such duty partly because he felt as yet unready to marry.

That's weird--a Translucent Chroma man having no mind reading, when that's their specialty. He must be a freak.

That was an interesting point. How could he have so much of the magic of other Chroma, sometimes, but never any of his own? Then an answer occurred to her: because his magic responded only to the expressed beliefs of others. If he could read their minds, they would never have to express themselves. He was dependent on what they said, and so could be deceived about their real beliefs--and that deception, whether intentional or coincidental, gave him his power. His liability was a key to his strength.

That must be it! You're smart to figure it out like that. I never would have.

But Swale had called her attention to the matter. Gale had almost missed the significance.

Gee. The succubus was pleased.

Placebo returned with a translucent pill. "This is water vapor. Necessary magic. It will enable you to travel through our Chroma, by making our water seem like air to you. So you will not be able to swim, but will be able to

breathe. It will last a week, or until you re-enter your normal environment; here are more spells, for use at need." He gave her a small bag. "To use one, merely hold it before you and invoke it. It requires only a moment."

"Thank you." She put the bag in her pack, then held up the pill. The dragon seed did not buzz. "Invoke."

It puffed into vapor, and the vapor expanded to surround her. She felt her body changing. The sensation was weird, but not unpleasant.

It almost like having sex.

Swale was always there with a sexual metaphor. But she was right; the Piers Anthony 399

vapor was infusing her body, penetrating it, enhancing it, like a good sexual experience.

"I feel very solid," Gale said, surprised.

"Yes," he agreed, taking a similar pill himself. "The magic actually makes you far more solid, so that water seems like air. You will not float."

She could appreciate why. She felt as if made of cast iron. But she was able to move well enough, as long as she kept her balance.

Soon they were on their way. The back door of the house opened into a closed translucent yard, and there were steps wending down into the darkness. As they entered the water, much of the weight eased, and she felt normal again.

And you're breathing water now.

So she was. It did indeed seem just like air. She knew that water was not thick air, so there must be more to the spell than solidification. She was just

glad it worked well.

"There will be light soon," Placebo said. "But if you wish, I will take your hand and guide you until we come into it."

Swale could see in the dark, which meant that Gale could also, but again, she preferred not to advertise that. She was increasingly glad that the man could not read her mind. Could the Translucent authorities who assigned Placebo to this mission have been aware of that? She took his hand and paced him down the steps.

You know, you can't risk sex with Havoc. But this youth doesn't matter; you could chance it with him.

Not while I have the seaweed in me. That would interfere with his access, just as it does with your escape.

Oh, that's right. Too bad.

But the succubus' preoccupation with sex had its effect. Havoc had another girlfriend, because it would be unnatural for him to be with an appealing woman without indulging himself. Gale had leave to do much the same, if she wanted to. Did she want to? Increasingly, she thought she might. Sex was not the constant lure for her that it was for Havoc (and all other men, as their minds revealed), but neither was it something to be dis-dained. She loved it with Havoc, but could probably enjoy it with another man, if she liked the man. If they faced a long, dull trek, it could be a diversion. She would keep it in mind.

I think maybe Placebo is not expendable, after all. He's too cute and nice. But what can you do with me? If you free me, and I remain with you, I might still suck out his soul. So much as I hate to say it, I think I should not

400 Key to Havoc

be with you when you have sex. Unless it's with a brute intent on rape. Then I can destroy him with a clear conscience.

Gale hadn't thought of that. If she were in mortal danger from a man, she could invite rape, and so abolish him. Unless the succubus could not do it, after all.

Oh, I can do it. My concern is that I don't want to have to do it. And I'm afraid

I'm primed to have to do it, to any man who enters you and blasts off.

Otherwise I could

really have a fling, in your good body.

So it still couldn't be risked. Gale put aside the subject of sex and looked around as they descended the seemingly endless flight of steps. There was not much to see; the water around them was a graying fog.

Water? That was right: she was breathing it now, but it remained what it was. It did seem just like air, and she wasn't floating in it either; it was just as

if she were walking on dry land. Presumably there was nothing in the water, so she was seeing nothing.

Then a fish passed by. It was hard to see, because it was translucent, but its motion disturbed the water so that its location and approximate shape were evident. It seemed to be flying, but of course it was swimming.

Weird. I've been through the Sulvan Sea many times, but through your eyes it's strange. I think I never really looked at it before.

Gale made a belated connection. The Sulvan Sea. That's where Sulvan seaweed comes from!

To be sure. I never could cruise the seaweed beds. That's not the only thing in this sea, by a considerable shot. I never walked the depths, so that will be new to me too.

At last they reached the bottom. As they stepped onto the sea floor, it seemed to come to life. There was a path ahead lined by glowing gray pebbles.

It wound through a landscape of dimly lighted shapes.

"It is a fair walk," Placebo said. "I fear it will be dull."

So do I.

"Just so we don't get lost."

"That we won't. I will guide you to the village nearest your destination, and then there will be a cross-country trek. In between is just a lot of walking, unless you would prefer to draw on magic."

"No magic. I want to be as quiet as I can."

"This is as I understood. Many people and creatures use the magic of adaptation, so that does not attract attention. But the magic of rapid transport is another matter." He pointed to the side. "There is a safety hatch. If there is a threat from a monster, we must go to one of those as quickly as Piers Anthony 401

feasible."

"Monster?" Gale was uneasy. "They shouldn't be able to attack us, should they?"

"Not so. We are more solid, not less, so if they touch us, we feel like rock to them. Small fish will simply bounce off us, but large ones could knock us down. Most will pass us by, but some do prey on phased creatures, so we must be aware."

"You tolerate predators who prey on people?"

"Yes. We have a policy of letting creatures be, but sometimes they don't let us be. So we try to avoid them. If they start raiding villages, then we gather

strong magic and fight them. The paths between villages are open territory.

Normally it's enough to be alert. Most villagers can of course hear them coming mentally, and know their intentions."

"If I tried to walk this path alone, I'd run afoul of a monster," Gale said.

"That seems likely. But I am familiar with this region, and there should not be trouble."

"That is reassuring." Gale was aware that there were limits to the warnings of the dragon seed; if she were caught too far from a refuge when a monster came, the warning might not be enough.

The scenery, once she got used to its translucency and glowing outlines, was roughly similar to that of the upper realm. There were small plant outlines, and bush outlines, and tree outlines. There were flowers formed of pastel lights. Some trees gave off enough light to cast shadows; they were like

miniature suns. Others had patterns of darkness that were inverted flowers.

Small fishy creatures swam between them, going from flower to flower.

One fish swam across to inspect them. Placebo took it in his hand and gently moved it out of the way. Its tameness suggested that folk were not in the habit of molesting fish along this path.

What's the significance of that spider Havoc sent you?

Gale had forgotten about that for the time being. She appreciated the gift, but knew that Havoc always had a purpose. It could not be as simple as a memento of their childhood. I'll have to take it out and study it, when I am alone.

There's bound to be something special about it.

Even so, it was nice. Havoc knew how she had loved Yellow, and how the spider had saved her from ugly mischief. This model might be crafted to save her similarly, once she understood it.

"Hold," Placebo said, stopping.

Gale stopped beside him. "There's a problem?"

"Not exactly. There's a spy eye."

402 Key to Havoc

"A what?"

"There." He pointed. "It's spying us."

She saw it. A floating globe with an eye-like aperture. It did seem to be looking at them. "Is it dangerous?"

"No, not in itself. They just look. But the question is, why is it looking at us? We should not be of interest."

"What interests a spy eye?"

"Whatever its master wishes to know about. Maybe it's just passing curiosity, and it will move on in a moment."

They waited, and soon the eye departed. They resumed walking. But it made Gale uneasy. The unknown enemy had known of her prior mission, and this suggested that it knew of her present one. Mischief could follow.

A wind started up. Gale realized that it was merely a current in the water, but it felt like wind. "There's my namesake," she said, trying to be cheerful.

"Stiff wind."

"Maybe we should stop at the next campsite. It is getting late, and it is not easy to travel at night. The nocturnal predators can be worse than the daytime ones."

"How do you tell day from night, down here?"

"The sun trees dim when the light above dims. They conduct sunlight from above, and radiate it for the others; they are a keystone species."

"A what?"

"A keystone species. One that is vital to the rest of the life around it. If the sun trees were lost, most of the rest of the plants would die, and the creatures that depend of them would be lost also."

"Oh--like the manna tree."

"The what?"

She explained about the complex of vegetation that maintained good weather for creatures during very bad weather.

"That's fascinating," he said enthusiastically. "I must go above to observe one, when I can."

"You are interested in natural species?"

"Every species is natural. So are we. Yes, when my tour of duty as an interface is done, I hope to marry and settle down to cultivate exotic plants.

There are so many, with such unusual magic, if we just take the time to see."

Gale was getting to like this man. "Interface?"

"The folk of the other Chroma tend to think of us as different, because we don't live on the land. Just as the blue girl thought I was odd. So we try to

make any visitors welcome, so that they can better understand us, and appre-Piers Anthony 403

ciate our environment. This is my month on duty as interface to the nonChroma entrance. It was pretty dull, until they told me to be ready for a female nonChroma visitor, and to do for her whatever she needed."

"It must still be pretty dull, having to plod along the bottom."

"Oh, no, Gale! Your very presence makes everything else interesting."

There was the changeling effect: he couldn't help liking her. Since she couldn't prevent it, she didn't try. "I will try not to be a burden."

You will never be a burden to his imagination. Non-Translucent arcs are still floating around his awareness.

It was true. Gale had given the man too deep a flash of her bosom. She tended to underestimate the effect her body had on men. But she was learning, thanks to the mind reading.

"There's a camp."

All she saw was one of the safety hatches. But that turned out to be it.

They lifted the circular lid, and climbed down a ladder into a cave chamber.

This had a bin of translucent vegetables, a crock of water, and a mat.

"But isn't there water all around us?" Gale asked.

Placebo smiled. "Yes and no. In our phased state, we can't drink the water around us, even if it were not too salty. So this is phased water. It would seem like stone to natural creatures."

"Oh." She looked at the mat. "This is for sleeping?"

"Yes. It's not fancy, but there are not many travelers who go afoot. We can--" Then more of the situation registered. "Usually there are married couples, or parents and children, on pleasure tours. I didn't think--"

Again, his mind was innocent. "It will do," she said reassuringly.

He smiled, and set about preparing the vegetables. Gale let him do it, curious how competent he was in this respect.

You've got to get rid of me.

I'm not going to have sex with him.

Sure you are. But not until I'm out of you.

Gale pondered. I can't let you go, or risk having you with me, when, if. What else

is there to do?

Get more Sulvan seaweed. Weave it into a net. That will hold me.

Gale was surprised, but the dragon seed did not buzz. "Placebo, I can do that. Would you do me a favor?"

"Of course," he said eagerly.

"Fetch me some strands of Sulvan seaweed."

"But that's for--" He broke off, too embarrassed to inquire further.

"I'll find some." He climbed the ladder and out the hatch.

404 Key to Havoc

No wonder the blue girl found him easy to manage. But he does have a certain charm.

"Yes, he does," Gale murmured aloud. She was beginning to understand the appeal a pretty and innocent girl had for a man, because this handsome and innocent man was having similar effect on her.

Gale took over the preparation of the vegetables. She was getting used to their translucency, and was able to distinguish potatoes, carrots, squash, lettuce, and others. There was a burner that appeared to run on water, though she was sure it was either flammable fluid or magic. She shaped a meal.

Placebo was not yet back, so she sat on the mat and waited. She took out the box with the yellow spider, and studied the model carefully. Its basic substance seemed to be brown stone; the yellow fur was fastened on outside.

Where did Havoc go?

"To the Brown Chroma," she answered, realizing the significance. "They make golems."

I've heard of them. They make them out of brown stone, and bond with them.

"How does a person bond?"

I think you just focus hard.

Gale focused on the spider. Suddenly she felt herself relating to it, seeming to get inside it. She felt its seven legs, and its five faceted eyes. She saw

through those eyes.

This is weird!

"Surely no weirder than you using my body."

But yours is a human female body. I know that type. This is a spider body. Yuck!

Gale smiled. "I see that you don't love spiders the way I do. Anyway, this isn't a real spider; it's a golem. I know Havoc wouldn't send me something just on a whim; this will be useful."

You have a lot of confidence in Havoc.

"Yes. I love him."

Look, Gale, I don't want to make you mad. But I've had some experience with men. It can be unwise to love one unskeptically.

"Havoc's different."

But he's got a girlfriend who spreads her legs wide just at the thought of him, and those other women I saw at the king's residence aren't far behind.

He's aware of them all.

"Yes, Havoc likes women. But he's true to me, as I am to him."

He's plumbing them!

Piers Anthony 405

"Of course. The bath girl, anyway; he won't touch any other as long as she's around."

So now his girlfriend is reserving him to herself? That's not ideal news for you.

"Yes it is. Because she has a certain resemblance to me. He likes her because he can pretend she's me."

This is naiveté. He likes her for herself too.

"Yes, I suppose so. He's a decent guy. He wouldn't touch her if he didn't respect her."

And what about when this "respect" grows to love?

"He'll love her too. But she'll never replace me in his heart."

This touching faith has been the death knell for countless women. Suppose he marries her?

"Yes, he may have to. Because he may never be able to marry me."

Then, suddenly, Gale was crying, overwhelmed by grief for what might have been.

Damn! I forgot. I didn't mean to--I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. I'm not used to being halfway decent or sensitive, the way you are.

Gale smile through her tears. "A succubus apologizing. That's got to be unusual."

You don't know you can't marry him. So you're both changelings. That doesn't necessarily mean you're too closely related.

"What are the odds?"

Maybe one in three that you're not too closely related.

"And maybe one in ten. We can't risk it until we know."

But you can be his lover. As they said, that may be the closest association.

"I want to bear his children! Three of them. And the fourth from a man like him."

Yes. Now Swale was pensive, thinking of her own prospects. So maybe you'll find out about the changelings, and it will be okay.

"Let's get back to the golem spider." Gale tried to dry her face, and lifted two forelegs to her mandibles. "Oops." She was still identifying with the spider's body. She had not really been talking aloud, but thinking in speech.

It was tricky at first, walking on seven legs and seeing with five eyes, but the golem was magically competent, and translated her four limbs to its seven without complication. The eyes similarly rendered their images to sections of her two eyes; she saw different views in each section. It was like looking at

a melange. But once she adapted, it was handy being able to see in all direc-406 Key to Havoc

tions at once. No one could sneak up on this creature.

Look at those teeth!

It did indeed have ferocious tusks, that should be able to inflict a painful wound even to a large creature. If she had to distract an animal or person, that would do it. "This little golem seems more useful every moment."

She continued to practice with it, becoming increasingly nimble. The spider was able to walk up a vertical wall, and even on the ceiling, if she used

the spurs on the feet correctly. When it fell it wasn't hurt. It was able to extend a line of web that would readily support its weight, and to stick it to a

surface, and to climb that line.

I'm impressed. If you get in trouble, that golem will get you out.

"And I may get in trouble," Gale agreed.

But it's not enough. The torture cult--you should not go there alone.

"Maybe I can use the golem to spy on them without exposing myself."

I hope so, Swale agreed dubiously.

There was a sound at the entrance. Placebo was returning. Gale reverted to herself, picked up the spider, and put it in its box, and put the box in

her pack. It wasn't that she regarded the translucent man as an enemy so much as her preference to keep special information to herself.

He dropped down to the floor, somewhat disheveled. "I had to search farther than I expected, but I found it." He proffered her several good strands

of seaweed.

"Thank you." She accepted them, and put them in her pack. "I have the meal ready."

He went to the lavatory to clean up, while she set out the meal.

You're going to do it.

"If I can't marry Havoc, I'll need to explore other options," she said silently. "He'll understand."

But this innocent youth is hardly worth your while.

"He'll make a sufficient diversion."

He'll fall in love with you.

That set Gale back. The succubus was right: her intimate attention would capture the heart of the guide. Was that fair to him? "I guess I'd better not."

They ate the meal, and talked. "I scouted the way to the torture cult,"

Placebo said. "It should be all right, if nothing happens."

"What could happen?"

"It parallels a chasm for a distance. If a storm should come--"

"How can there be a storm at the bottom of the sea?"

"Strong currents can stir things up, and affect us the way strong winds Piers Anthony 407

would above. But the weather seems calm."

"That's good." Gale washed the dishes in the phased water. Then she stood in the center of the shelter. "Let me entertain you."

"Oh, you don't have to--"

She lifted her dulcimer and fitted the little hammers to her fingers. "I will sing and dance for you."

"Oh." His mind showed both disappointment and relief. He appreciated her qualities as a lovely woman, but was quite shy about personal relations.

She held the dulcimer to her side, and played it. This occupied her hands, so that her body had to carry the physical part of the dance. But she did the Damsel & Dulcimer dance, which was crafted for exactly this situation. Her legs and hips carried most of it, and her head some of it, as she swung her hair around. She hummed the theme, and the instrument amplified it, as she spun and tapped the floor with her feet.

He's falling for you already.

So he was. It was the changeling effect, but knowing it didn't make her able to mute it. She was simply too appealing to men.

She ended the dance. Placebo was rapt. "You are so lovely," he said.

You're going to do it.

Yes, she was. What was there to lose? But she had to play fair. "Placebo, you know that our association is temporary. After this mission, I will return to my own realm, and we will not see each other again."

"Yes, of course. And I shall do my utmost to see that you return safely.

Though without my magic--"

"I'm sure it will prove to be sufficient. We must share close quarters, and I think it only fair to give you something for your assistance."

"Oh, you don't have to--" His hopes and fears were wild.

"I want to." She took the Sulvan seaweed and went into the lavatory.

Weave it into a loose net bag. I will not be able to escape even the slackest web.

Gale did so. Then she held the bag at her cleft, and reached through it with two fingers to pull out the wad of seaweed inside her. She nudged it into the bag.

Swale followed. Gale felt her presence diminish. Her companion of the past fortnight was gone.

Gale closed the bag and tied it shut. She poked a finger into it. "Are you there?" she murmured.

Yes.

408 Key to Havoc

"I can still talk with you like this?"

Yes. But only when you reach inside to touch me.

"It's not unkind imprisonment?"

And you really do care about that! No, I'll just sleep. But when you're done, I'd like

to be with you again, if I may.

"You may. I still need your guidance."

Gale put the bag in the pack, set it in the corner, and emerged to join the man. "I set two strictures on you," she told him. "First, to understand throughout that this is not a permanent relationship between us; it is only a passing affair."

"I understand," he said, and he did, though there was a strong background of regret.

"Second, do not toy with anything of mine--clothing, possessions, whatever. Leave them alone." So he would not inadvertently free the succubus.

"Of course." And he meant it.

"Then come to me."

Hesitantly, he came to her, his shyness making him slow. She embraced him, kissed him, and brought him down to the bed mat. She undressed him, and herself, and saw their two bodies together, so different. Hers was what she thought of as human color, off shades of white, brown, or green. His was translucent, like a mannequin made of glass. She could see it without difficulty, but it had no color as such, just translucency. Still, it was all male,

and handsomely formed.

He remained hesitant to act, though he had a rigid translucent erection, so she bade him lie on his back, and she addressed him with strokes of her hands and then with strokes of her body, passing one leg over his thighs and her breasts over his chest. She kissed him again. When his desire became almost unbearable, to him and to her, she eased him into her and clasped him close. "Go!" she said, rolling him on top of her.

He climaxed so quickly that it was over before he was fairly on her. That was too fast for her, and now he was fading. "Stay," she said, still holding him

close. And sure enough, the power of youth, imagination, and first experience in due course brought him to power again, and she was able to enjoy several climaxes of her own while he worked to achieve his second. That was more like it. It was a trick she had learned from her experience with Havoc: take the edge off, then enjoy the slow continuation.

After that, she let him go. They cleaned up, and returned to the mat to sleep.

In the night he woke from a dream of rapture, and desired more, but Piers Anthony 409

didn't dare voice it. He didn't know she could read his mind. Rather than let his frustrated longing become hers, she rolled into him and took him into her again. This time she did not prolong it; his passion was satisfied in a moment,

and he relaxed blissfully. She returned to sleep. She did not mind obliging him, and it was the simplest way to stifle his thoughts that could otherwise disturb her. She suspected that it was much like that between the bath Girl and Havoc. Sex, once decided on, was best handled expediently.

But how she wished it could have been with Havoc! She could do it with another man, she could enjoy it, she could climax, but only with Havoc did it truly transport her. Love made all the difference.

In the morning she woke before Placebo and cleaned and dressed first; no need to set him off again, as she knew would be the case if she remained next to him. Anything at all could set a man on the sexual course, and it could

be hard to turn him off it, but a naked woman was guaranteed. He would think of sex every time he looked at her, but would not expect it as long as she was clothed and vertical.

She pondered, then fetched the seaweed bag from her pack. She poked in her finger. "Are you all right?"

Yes. May I rejoin you now?

"Yes, I think it's safe." Gale put the bag to her cleft and worked the tie loose. In a moment she felt the entry of the succubus. The faint infusion was like another kind of sex.

It's good to be back. I've gotten accustomed to traveling with you. It's not bad in that

bag, but I can't do anything. I can pick up some of what's going on outside, but with no

participation possible, it's frustrating.

"I don't have to keep you confined."

Don't risk it! The torture cult may be just waiting to summon me, or make me steal

a soul.

Again, the warning seemed fair. "I must admit, I have come to like your company. You have a cynical perspective that I probably need."

I think it's your determined niceness that appeals to me. I have come to know you,

Gale, so I know you are not faking it. You're smart, and tough when you need to be, but

when you have an option, you're nice. That's really why you gave Placebo that night, when

you didn't have to: to make him happy.

"I suppose so. He's a decent innocent man, and cute in his fashion. I realized that I could give him a lot more than it would cost me."

When you reach the torture cult, you'll need my cynicism. They are not nice people.

Gale was sure of that. "I wish I didn't have to keep you captive."

I know you do. That makes it no real burden.

410 Key to Havoc

"Are we becoming friends?"

There was an odd sensation. Then Swale's thought came. Yesterday you cried. Now it's my turn. Gale, I'd love to be your friend. But I can't be, because I may

betray you. I don't want to, but I may do it. You can't afford to trust me.

Again, she was probably right. "Maybe after this mission, things will be different."

But then I'll either have my own body back, or I'll be dead. We'll be done with each

other, either way.

And right a third time. "I'll do my best to get you your body back. But not because I want to be rid of you. Because I know it's best for you."

I know that's your motive. And I think your decency is rubbing off on me. I'm not

nearly as mean spirited as I was.

That had been apparent. "I don't think you were mean spirited. You were deliberately corrupted by the torture cult, so you would do what it wanted.

Now you're reverting to your original state."

That's such a lovely thought. Again Gale felt the woman's emotion.

Placebo woke. "I overslept!" he said, chagrined.

"You had a hard night."

He stared at her a moment, then began laughing. "It was never hard long, before you softened it. You are such a creature! I wish--"

"You know I can't stay," Gale reminded him.

"I know it." He got up and set about organizing himself.

He's a conquest, all right. I felt three releases in the night. Four, I mean; there was

one hours later. They drove me crazy. I think I am programmed to take the soul of any

man who lets me. But I couldn't reach his. Or yours.

"Mine?" Gale asked subvocally, startled.

You went off three, four times, like so many pulses, just before his second.

They were

different from his, but I clutched for them too, just as desperately. I think it doesn't matter

what soul I take. Maybe when they primed me, they never thought a woman would go off.

I think I'm just as dangerous to you as to him.

"Thanks for the warning." Gale felt weak with the realization of the possible narrowness of her escape. It did make sense: a succubus normally seduced a male, so would collect only male souls. An incubus would seduce a female, and could not afford to climax before he caused her to do so, so he would get only female souls. But in special circumstances, or with homo-sexual encounters, that could change. So probably either could take either, but seldom had the opportunity.

I didn't realize it, until you actually had sex. Don't trust me, Gale.

"I won't," she agreed.

Piers Anthony 411

Placebo emerged from the lavatory. "You are a lovely woman," he remarked. He was referring to the whole of her, mental and emotional as well as physical.

Agreed.

"Thank you." What else could she say?

They resumed travel. As he had said, the light trees were brightening, sharing their life-giving light with other plants, and there were surely similar

interactions in the soil as the vegetable world cooperated for survival. She had seen it on land, so wasn't surprised by it under water. Nature was a wonderful thing, when one took time to appreciate its qualities. Havoc loved it, and studied it constantly. Which reminded her of him again.

The path wound through unfamiliar vegetation, but Gale knew from Placebo's mind that much of it would have been dangerous for an uninformed intruder. Plants did know how to protect themselves, and most of them preferred to be left alone. The man was doing a good job of keeping her well away from threats, so that it seemed as though there were none. She appreciated that.

The dragon seed buzzed. Gale looked around, trying not to be obvious--and saw another spy-eye moving away. "Someone is observing us," she said.

"Maybe it's coincidence."

"Maybe," she agreed, ill at ease. "It was another spy-eye."

He looked around, but the eye was gone. "Let me check around. Maybe something is near."

"I don't think there'll be anything to see."

"Still, it's best to be sure. You should be safe if you wait here."

He means well.

Gale nodded. "I'll wait."

Placebo left the path, and soon disappeared amidst the assorted tall plants.

Gale followed his mind for a while, but the range of her mind perception was limited, and he was soon gone that way too.

This was the second time they had been spied on, but the dragon seed had not buzzed the first time. This was surely mischief.

A wind stirred. Actually it was a current, but Placebo had been right: it felt like wind. It quickly built up to a gale.

That fits. Gale in a gale.

"But where's it coming from? I don't trust this." She lay down on the ground, trying to get out of the wind.

That floating eyeball spotted you. Now the enemy is striking.

412 Key to Havoc

That was exactly Gale's concern. Somehow the enemy always seemed to know where she and Havoc were. Was it able to track their minds, or did it have some other way to identify them?

The gale was still intensifying. The air/water was getting cloudy as the bottom was stirred up. "I can't stay here," Gale gasped. "I'll be blown away."

Right into that chasm.

Indeed, the gulf was uncomfortably close. Gale crawled toward the largest tree-trunk she saw. But the wind caught at her, shoving her toward the brink. She tried to dig her fingers into the ground, but the soil off the path was spongy and didn't hold.

Placebo appeared, forging through the discoloration. His mouth opened.

He was calling to her, but the words were lost in the storm.

Then the wind picked her up and hurled her over the brink. She screamed as she fell into the dark chasm.

Something took hold of her. Her flying shirt and skirt smoothed out, and she floated in place, oblivious to the awful wind. What was happening?

Placebo reappeared. He was floating too. He beckoned to her, and dropped to a ledge. She followed. There was a cave slanting into the wall.

They drifted into it, getting out of the wind.

Suddenly her weight returned. She landed hard on the rock, grunting.

He reached out to steady her. "We're safe now."

"What happened?" Flustered, she tucked herself back together.

"I levitated us to this shelter. It was the only safe place I could find immediately."

She looked at him. "You used magic."

"I had to. You were falling--" He broke off, surprised. "I used magic!"

"I told you you would, when you needed to."

You did tell him, but you didn't really believe it.

"But this wasn't the placebo effect!" Placebo protested. "It was real magic."

Gale ignored Swale's accurate comment. She was feeling emotionally numb, but knew she needed to lock in her point. "Precisely. You can do it, when you have to."

He peered out into the gulf. "Evidently so. But I didn't believe it. When I saw you go over--"

"You acted. I am very glad you did. I was otherwise lost."

"That storm--it came up so suddenly. If I had realized--"

"I think it was intended to blow me away, literally. Something doesn't like me."

Piers Anthony 413

"The torture cult?"

"Maybe. Does it have water magic?"

"No. It depends on us for transport to the surface. Otherwise it is confined to its caves."

"So there must be some other power going after me. Could it be some Translucent Chroma magician?"

"No! We wouldn't do that. If we didn't want you to pass, we would have kept you out of the water."

"Then someone else must have the power to use your magic."

His mouth opened, but he could not speak. He was faced with unac-ceptable alternatives.

But you made your point. Now all you have to do is survive your journey.

Gale nodded to herself. She had evoked Placebo's magic, but also verified that her enemy had more formidable magic, and was becoming more open about using it. How likely was it that she would be able to complete her journey, let alone investigate the torture cult?

There was a stirring in the depths of the cave. Gale saw a tentacle reaching out of the darkness. "What is that?"

He looked. "A squid. A nocturnal predator. This cave is dark enough for it to be active in day time. We must get away from here."

Gale looked out over the brink, into the gulf. "We can't just knock its tentacles aside?"

"No. We don't want to hurt it, or let it hurt us."

More of the squid was coming into sight. The thing was huge. She counted nine tentacles, and they grew to be massive at their bases. She also saw a formidable beak. She backed away from it, but there was little standing room left on the cave ledge.

"Is there a passage to the surface?" She meant the surface of the seafloor.

"There usually is. But it would be behind the squid." He looked into the gulf. "I'm not sure my magic is working."

The squid lunged, surging forward. Gale screamed and stepped away from it--and her rear foot came down on nothing. She fell into the gulf.

Again.

Then Placebo was with her, catching her in his arms. He slowed to a stop, supporting her. But they were now well down in the gulf, and there was a strong current in it, carrying them along to the side.

"Where are we going?" Gale asked, not easy about this either.

"I'm stable now, not using any more magic. I had to use it, to catch you.

But maybe this is all right."

414 Key to Havoc

"All right?"

"This current is bearing us rapidly toward our destination. We can save time without using extra magic, just by letting it do so."

"But the enemy already knows where we are, so the use of magic may not matter."

"That's true," he said, surprised. "Still, it's an easy way to travel."

Gale wasn't so sure. "What is that thing bearing down on us?"

He looked. "Uh-oh. That's a black shark."

The shark accelerated, opening its mouth as it closed on them, showing a circle of black teeth.

Then they were forging upward, as Placebo's magic took hold. Gale felt her hair blown back by the wind. They reached the top of the gulf, passed above it, and dropped to the ground beside it.

"Thank you," Gale said, kissing him. "Very nice magic."

Placebo flushed dark translucent and set her down. They had had sex the past night, but it was as if he had never been thanked before. "I didn't know I could do it," he said.

He can do it because the very notion of harm to you transforms him.

"Fortunately I did know," Gale said. She was quite satisfied about the need to reassure him about his magic.

They seemed to have outdistanced the predators. Gale wondered whether they had been sent by the enemy, or had appeared randomly. It was hard to tell--which was perhaps the point. The enemy wanted her demise to seem accidental.

Placebo stumbled, and barely caught himself. This time it was Gale who jumped to support him. "Are you all right?"

"Sorry. I'm not used to invoking that much magic."

"It tires you?"

"Yes. Magical exertion is like physical exertion. It takes a while to recover."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I don't have direct experience with magic myself."

"It's all right."

But it wasn't all right; his mind showed that he was suddenly extremely weak.

"Is there a rest stop close?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Then we'll stop there." She put her arm around his waist and steadied him as he walked. He tried to protest, but not strongly; he did need the help.

Piers Anthony 415

They reached the stop, and climbed in. She made him lie down while she attended to the food. He soon slept. She worked his clothes off and replaced them with a blanket; then she washed the clothes and hung them out to dry, along with her own. Again she marveled at the way the underwater domain had become so like the land domain, even in the homey little details.

He's such a charmer. He trusts you.

"Not without reason," Gale said. "I'll have to bag you again."

Of course. They went into the lavatory and attended to it. Gale left the seaweed bag in her pack, as before, then went out to complete her routine business. Placebo slept on, so after a while she lay down beside him, sharing his blanket.

In due course he woke and found her there. "What time is it?" he asked, confused. Naturally he did not remember getting naked with her under a blanket.

"Late afternoon. You needed a rest."

"But I'm--you're--"

"So we are." She turned into him, her breasts and thigh coming into contact with equivalent parts of his body.

That was all it took. It a moment he was embracing her, and inside her, and his ecstasy spread across to her mind and sufficed for them both. This was the easy way to have sex: sharing his passion instead of generating her own.

As he faded, he looked at her. "You know you don't have to do this. I will guide you regardless."

"I appreciate your exercise of magic on my behalf. You tired yourself, so I'm helping restore you."

He did not argue the case. He got up, cleaned up, and joined her in the evening meal. Then they lay down again for the night. She felt his guilt for his renewed desire.

"Yes," she said, before he asked, and they clasped again. It was really very easy to reward and satisfy a man, especially when she wanted to. But still

she wished it could have been Havoc she satisfied. Placebo was a fine young man; he just wasn't the one she loved.

"I will guide and protect you to the best of my ability," he said. "But my duty is limited to our travel through the Translucent Chroma. I can't go into the cult cave with you."

"I understand." She knew how much he wanted to go with her, but he had to stay within his mandate. He was an honorable young man, and would not violate his trust. In addition, his magic, however powerful when belief or 416 Key to Havoc

necessity invoked it, would not operate outside his Chroma.

In the morning they prepared for the last day of travel. Because Gale could not be sure whether Placebo would want sex again at dawn, for all that dawn was hardly the same down here, she didn't restore Swale. She was right; he did, and she obliged him immediately. He didn't have to tell her: he was in heaven despite knowing that soon they would part and never meet again.

Even as they donned their packs for the resumption of the journey, the desire came upon him, and she simply stepped into him clothed, drew aside the necessary, and accommodated him vertically, then did a quick cleanup. She was getting good at this. But she had not time to fetch the succubus before they were on their way. She hoped Swale did not feel neglected.

There had been a time when she thought Havoc had sex too much on the mind, because he was so much more interested in it than she was. But experience and observation had shown her that he was merely typical of young men, and now that she could read minds, she realized that the urge for sex was simply a basic component of the male estate, like competitiveness and pride. All men judged all women they encountered as prospective sexual partners, and made their decisions so swiftly that they weren't even conscious of having done it, unless the verdict was positive. Most verdicts were negative, but when they met Gale, it was always positive. Their taste for it was limited only by the ability of their bodies to revive after performance. Only by hiding her face and body could she avoid inciting their desire.

Swale would have agreed emphatically. The succubus was like a female male in her constant urgency for sex. This insight helped Gale understand her internal companion.

They reached the village Placebo had mentioned: Wetback. The houses were made of solidified water, not ice, and were of course translucent. It hardly mattered, because a translucent person was invisible inside a translucent house. Apart from that it seemed just like a typical village, with folk going about their separate activities, tilling their seaweed fields, herding their

domesticated fish, and tending to their translucent children.

"We can go on this afternoon," Placebo said. "It's only an hour from here."

Gale had a notion. "Let's stay here the night."

He glanced at her, surprised. "I thought you wanted to proceed as quickly as possible."

"I did. But I reconsidered."

He shrugged. "Wetback Village will of course provide you with a room.

I'll see to it."

Piers Anthony 417

"Provide us with a room."

He didn't argue. There was a glad lift to his feelings as he understood that she was giving him one more night of bliss. Soon they were seeing the village headman. "In return, I will entertain your children," Gale said.

"We do not ask our guests to entertain us," he demurred.

"If your children do not like music, they are not the kind I have encountered."

"You are a musician?"

"Yes."

Soon Gale had an audience of children and a few adults. She set up her dulcimer, donned the finger hammers, sang. "Black, red, green is the color of my true love's hair. His eyes are something wondrous fair. The whitest face and the grayest hands. I love the ground whereon he stands." It was one of the old ones, said to predate colonization in some form, but always popular.

As she sang, she imagined herself as the woman of the song, and realized that this village of natural mind readers were responding to that, too.

She had their attention, as she knew she would. She was a pretty girl despite her oddity of appearance, and she sang well, and it was a nice song.

She went on to others, and they loved them all. Her audience swelled. By the time she got to Red River Girl, and asked the headman to be her volunteer love, they were all enraptured. Even the adults laughed as she reminded him to keep his eyes and his hands to himself. "You're good," he murmured. She knew it.

Naturally they made a banquet, and many people came to talk with her, including a number of young men. "I'm with Placebo," she said gently, and they looked at him enviously. They knew what he was experiencing, because they could read his mind as readily as she could; he was the only one who could not read other minds.

At one point the headman sent her something she had not encountered before: a closed thought. You are treating Placebo like a child. It was a compliment, recognizing that she had given joy to a person who had been tacitly isolated by his inability to read other minds. Normal Translucent Chroma women had avoided him for that reason. It had not before occurred to Gale how lonely Placebo's life must be; he was innocent for good reason. She had given him something he could not get at home. The headman approved.

In the early evening they retired to the house provided. "You were ter-rific," he said. "I had no idea you could do that."

"It wasn't relevant until I saw the children." She peered through the translucent wall. "Can others see us?"

418 Key to Havoc

"Does it matter?"

She laughed. "No. They surely have no doubt why we are here together." She dropped her clothing and lay on the bed.

"You're letting them know I'm your lover!" he said, gratified. He did not realize, or perhaps preferred not to realize, that everyone in the village already

knew he was her lover, and would be able to tune in on the proof of it this night. Gale had never been much for public sex, but in this case she was satisfied to do it.

"But this may be the last time," she said. "I want to get up before dawn, to sneak up to the torture cult cave."

"Oh. I will wake you." He joined her on the bed, and they made half translucent love. She didn't know what would happen on the morrow, but she feared it, and wanted to make the most of this night. She did.

It seemed barely a moment before he was gently squeezing her shoulder, waking her. "Two hours before dawn."

She banished sleepiness. "Thank you." She got up, dressed quickly, ate quickly, and they were on their way within half an hour. She remained without the succubus, though it would have taken only moments to restore her.

Gale just wasn't sure, this close to their destination, so had not taken that step.

The village was quiet. They walked out, taking an obscure path Placebo knew. There was a main path, for the delivery of supplies, but this one had fallen out of use long before and was largely forgotten. There was no light, and she did not have Swale's night vision, so was dependent on Placebo's guidance. Hand in hand, they made their way.

No bad weather came, and no monster attacked them. Had they succeeded in avoiding the torture cult's observation? Gale wasn't at all sure.

But

this seemed to be her best chance. She wasn't sure exactly how she would spy on the cult without exposing herself to danger; Havoc had been uncharacter-istically vague on that. But she would do her best.

Suddenly they were there. It was a muddy hole in the sloping sea floor.

She felt the mud stirring as she felt around its edges.

"This is a back way in," Placebo murmured. "It feeds into their cellars, which are their highest level. Translucent magic ends there; you will become normal by landwalker definition. When you emerge, you will need to take another water pill, lest you drown. I will wait here; I must not enter. If you lose your pills, I will give you one of mine."

"I understand."

"Gale--" He was struggling with the pain in his mind, fearing for her Piers Anthony 419

safety.

She kissed him quickly. "I'll be all right. I'll see what I can see, and hear what I can hear, and return soon. But if I don't, then you are free to go.

Don't wait more than a day."

He did not reply, but his mind showed that he intended to wait indefinitely, unable to let her be lost. He would have done that even if he didn't love her. Now she understood why Havoc did not want to be unkind to the bath girl; it was not right to do this to innocent and feeling people. Yet it was

a consequence of the process of the king's governance.

She moved on into the cave. It led only a short way into the ground before it was barred by a stout metal door. There was a wheel mounted on the door. She put her hands on the wheel and turned it, first one way, then the other, and found that the counterclockwise rotation was easier. After several rotations, she heard something click, and the wheel would not continue. So she pulled it toward her, and the door swung open.

Beyond was a short continuation of the cave, becoming a metal tunnel blocked by a second door. She went to that and tried its wheel, but it would not budge. Then she realized that she was being dull; it was an air filled region

beyond, so it could not simply open to the sea. She was still breathing water, but the folk beyond this barrier were not. She turned back, and saw another wheel on the near side of the first door. She pulled on it, swinging the door shut, and locking it in place by turning the wheel clockwise.

The dragon seed buzzed.

Gale paused. The seed was obviously warning her of danger--but she already know this mission was dangerous. Was there anything specific? There seemed to be nothing here other than the chamber bounded by the two doors with their wheels. So it must be general: the seed was aware of the threat she was walking into. But she really had no choice; to accomplish her mission, she had to do it.

She returned to the inner wheel. Now it turned. When it released, it swung suddenly away from her, and the water poured out. She was swept along with it, skidding across the stone floor. For as it happened, she suddenly became a landwalker again, and the water was water. She was on her bottom in a coursing puddle, inside the torture cult's hideout.

"Welcome to our humble demesnes, Gale of Trifle."

Her head snapped around. There stood a man in boots and helmet. She recognized him immediately from the memory images of Swale: this was Shrapnel, the torture master. She hadn't fooled him at all.

She scrambled up and ran for the water-lock. But the second door was 420 Key to Havoc

closed now, and the wheel would not respond to her effort to turn it.

"Now we can do this one of two ways," Shrapnel said, using the standard predator-prey mode of address. "Pleasant or unpleasant. Do you have a choice?"

Gale knew she was fairly trapped. The man's mind was a horror of viciousness, and she didn't want to touch it; she raised her shield as far as possible, to keep that monstrosity out. Its very processes of thought threatened to contaminate her, in much the way Swale's initial siege of horrors had.

She would have to play this through, seeking some unlikely avenue of escape before the physical horrors started. "Do I?"

"The unpleasant way is for you to agree to cooperate, and become a succubus to replace the one you cost me. One hundred young male souls, and you will be free."

Better to engage him in dialogue while she looked for her opening. "What is the pleasant way?"

"For you to attempt to resist accommodation, so that I will have the pleasure of torturing you until your will is broken. Then not only will your soul go out as a succubus, your body will remain for my private personal enjoyment while you are on your missions."

The worst of it was that he wasn't fooling. The seed had not buzzed.

He meant pleasant or unpleasant for him, not her. She lowered her mind shield enough to pick up the confirmation. He did like to torture lovely women, and to reduce them to abject despair. He liked it when they resisted, because that gave him greater opportunity to savor the delicious process of making them hurt.

There would be no reasoning with this monster. He was like a six-legged cat playing with a mouse, crippling it one leg at a time and offering it

the seeming hope of escape. It could take the mouse days to die, and it could take a woman much longer. Especially if the physical torture was mostly illusion-memory.

She had discovered how to nullify the tortures Swale knew. Maybe she could do the same here. For a while.

But that would be only as a last resort. It would be better to escape, and quickly. That meant taking out the torture master.

Gale leaped at him, drawing her hidden knife. She didn't test the leather armor, knowing it would protect him; she went for the eyes. Blind him, and half the battle was won.

But the blade sheered off, missing him. He had a protective spell. Caught unprepared, she lost her balance--and the man's hands shot out to catch her Piers Anthony 421

wrists. "What a nice surprise. You have elected to fight."

She leaped, using his hands for leverage as she brought her feet up to club him in the crotch. But the leather held, so that her effort merely pushed him back a step.

"Oh, yes, sheer delight! Kiss me, my exquisite honey." He drew her in toward him.

She tried to butt him with the top of her head, but the spell bounced it off. So she let him bring her mouth to his--and she bit at his lip. And couldn't. Shrapnel succeeded in kissing her half open mouth, and touching inside her lip with his vile tongue. She couldn't touch him, but he could touch

her. He surely had had much practice at this sort of thing, and had covered all

the bases.

He drew her in further, and transferred his hands to her back so as to press her body against his. The contact revolted her, even though it was only his armor she was touching. She struggled, but could not budge.

"Yes, I could rape you now, but that would be too sudden. I want to savor the whole of you first. So let's get to it."

He carried her out of the chamber, down a spiral ramp, and into--the torture chamber. Exactly as Swale's memory had it. There were three other women manacled to the walls. So it was real! Gale had believed that it was all a false memory, but she must have misinterpreted the buzzes of the dragon seed. That did happen on occasion.

Shrapnel forced one of Gale's arms up over her head. It touched a manacle, which automatically clamped about her wrist. Then he did the other arm similarly. Her legs remained free, but she was now chained to the wall, pressing against her backpack. Her feet touched the floor, but she had to stand up straight to prevent the manacles from pressing against her raised hands.

He drew a large knife. He was going to start cutting her immediately!

She tried to kick him away, but he merely stepped inside her foot and wedged his hip against her lifted leg. "So eager," he murmured, moving his crotch against hers suggestively. "Fear not, my lovely, it will happen, in good time.

But I want you to do some proper screaming first."

He slid the point of the knife across the clothed surface of her bosom, then made it dig in between her breasts. The cloth parted, and the shirt peeled away on either side. He cut it to her waist, and slit it to the sides and

along the sleeves so that it came off her front and dropped down behind.

Then he cut through her bra without touching the flesh, and let it fall similarly. He reached around her and cut the straps of her backpack, letting it 422 Key to Havoc

drop behind her feet. He continued until she was completely naked.

"Ah, yes, my sweetheart, you are the fairest form yet. You will be a considerable asset to my practice."

"I'll never be that," she retorted.

"You assume you have a choice, my dear." He looked around. "I think it is time for the preliminary course. You will find it edifying." He turned away, leaving her hanging.

Shrapnel walked to the farthest hanging victim, a lovely nude brunette nonChroma girl. He took up a whip. "Are you ready wench?" he demanded.

"No," she said tearfully, knowing what was coming.

He struck her with the whip. She screamed as it cracked across her face, cutting her cheek open.

Gale, watching, was struck by two things. First, this was exactly the same as the vision Swale had shown her. Second, the woman had no mind.

She wasn't real. Gale was trying to read it, and finding only blankness there.

This was a mere dummy model, given seeming animation by surface illusion.

The two other hanging women were also mannequins, crafted shapes without animation or life. So though Swale's memory had not been entirely false, the tortured women were. Rather, they were golems, like her spider. There must be someone out of sight, animating them in turn, but she couldn't pick up that mind second-hand.

This was a play, following a script. For the benefit of the fourth woman: herself. This was how Swale had been tamed. But the torture master didn't know that Gale could read minds; she had so far acted like a completely typical innocent woman, fortunately.

Still, she was manacled to the wall, and in time Shrapnel would get to her.

Then he would be able to rape her, and torture her in other ways. So this chamber was only half bluff.

Meanwhile the woman was screaming as the whip crisscrossed her body, cutting it so that blood flowed and dripped to the stone floor. It was a most effective image. But Gale knew she couldn't afford to be distracted. She needed to save herself.

The pack remained at her feet. In it was the golem spider--and the bag containing Swale. Gale focused, bonding with the spider, and in a moment she was looking at the inside of the box. She worked the legs, but couldn't open the box from inside. Why hadn't she thought of that?

Shrapnel finished with the first victim. He moved on to the second, a lovely bare green girl. He drew his knife. "Are you ready, strumpet?" She averted her face, so that her green tresses covered it.

Piers Anthony 423

He sliced across her belly, not deeply, opening a bleeding cut. She screamed horribly. "Are you ready?" he repeated. Gale would have been truly appalled, had the bath girl not shown her in a mental picture how the golem Havoc defeated had bled when cut in the neck; bleeding was part of their magic, when animated.

Gale returned her awareness to her human body. She lifted one foot and worked her toes into her pack. She had to move slowly, so as not to attract the attention of the torture master. The box was near the top of the pack.

She pushed against its side and lid, until it opened.

Shrapnel proceeded with gusto, carving the green girl's right breast off.

This might be all for show, but he loved it, and was capable of doing it to a real girl--at such time as he had one who was expendable. The golems, she gathered from peripheral thoughts, he took to a repair chamber where they were glued and painted and restored as necessary, so they would be ready for work the next day.

Gale returned to the spider. The golem pushed the box the rest of the way open and squeezed out. Then it looked around with five eyes to spy the Sulvan seaweed bag. It caught hold of the bag with two hooked feet, and dragged it up and out of the pack.

"Are you ready?" The girl was not, so Shrapnel continued carving until her screams became faint and stopped. Then he went on to the third woman, a white Chroma, right across from Gale. "Are you ready, whore?"

And he had a servant girl to do their partial animations during the torture sessions, to make them appear lifelike. She of course felt none of their pain, but made them cry and scream realistically. What a dirty show!

The spider climbed up Gale's leg, hauling the bag. It reached her crotch, and labored to place the bag at her cleft and work it open.

The third woman shook her head. Shrapnel gestured to the side, and the hellhound bounded in.

The bag's tie loosened. The succubus came up out of it and into Gale, investing her womb. It's good to be back. What's happening?

Gale filled her in with a rapid series of mental images.

Swale borrowed her eyes and stared at the grotesque rape in progress immediately before her. The creature was wedging its huge organ into the tight cleft of the white girl, who was screaming continuously. You mean that's not real? She's just a dummy?

Gale assured her that was so.

All this time I thought it was real torture! The villain fooled me completely.

Swale

was chagrined. I'm from the Brown Chroma. I know about golems. What an idiot I 424 Key to Havoc

was not to think of that!

"The golems are painted other colors," Gale pointed out. "You had no reason to suspect their presence here, way beyond their origin. And you had plenty of other distractions."

But the hellhound is real.

Gale touched its mind and realized that was true. It was an animal bred for frequent and violent sex; every day it had to have it, or be distended by its

own burgeoning fluid and in increasing pain. In that respect it was the ultimate male. It preferred living women, bound and helpless, but would address any living thing it caught. It was not smart, so did not realize that the manacled

woman shape was not genuine. The aperture of the golem was too narrow, putting the wolf into a frenzy of effort, but it had no choice; its urgency would not wait.

The hound's being tortured too, Swale thought.

"Shrapnel is a mean man," Gale subvocalized. "He makes everyone around him suffer."

Gale guided the golem spider back to the backpack, but did not confine it to its box. It might be needed again. Then she explained her strategy to the

succubus: "I want to lure him into raping me, so you can capture his soul.

What will you do with it, once you have it?"

I'm supposed to carry the souls, bound by magic, to one of the male bodies in a

chamber elsewhere in the complex.

"These are men? That doesn't seem secure."

No, they are kept in suspended animation, or some similar state, magically, so they

can't go anywhere. There's a whole roomful of them, men without souls. A hundred of

them. I think they are supposed to become an army, when animated by captive souls. But

I don't know.

Actually, Swale was picking up the notion of an army from Gale's reaching of the periphery of Shrapnel's mind. All she had known before was that these bodies represented storage for the souls she captured. So far she had gotten nine, before being diverted to go after Gale. "How do you deliver the soul there?"

I go to the next unoccupied man, and lock on to his member when the servant girl lifts

it up for me, and I feed the soul into it. The soul travels up through the pipe to his prostate,

and takes residence there. Just as a succubus goes to the woman's womb. It can't escape,

because it lacks the magic I was given, to travel freely as a soul. It can't rouse the man,

because those bodies are magically drugged to be unconscious. So it curls up and sleeps there,

as far as I know.

Gale was beginning to make sense of this. Shrapnel had somehow ob-Piers Anthony 425

tained a collection of male bodies without souls, and was slowly infusing them with captive souls so they could one day be reanimated. When the roster was complete, he would rouse and train and send out his army, to invade some vulnerable region. Building his empire. Woe betide the village Shrapnel ruled! He might make wholesale use of the men and women there, converting them into a larger army of soldiers and prostitutes, so that he could conquer a more extensive region. Eventually he hoped to become lord of the planet, if not diverted by the wonderful prospect of a limitless supply of real women to torture.

"We need to be rid of Shrapnel," Gale said. "So I'll lure him, and you take him out and lock him in a zombie body."

Gladly. I owe him endless torture.

The hound had finally finished with the pseudo woman and retired to its den to recharge for the morrow. Now Shrapnel turned to face Gale again.

"Are you ready?"

Had she not discovered that the three prior tortures were mock, Gale would have been sickened and terrified into capitulation, as had been the case with Swale. As it was, she was disgusted and angry. The show was fake, but it was graphic, and it was no fun watching a mannequin seemingly tortured.

She knew that what this brute wanted from her was her cooperation in becoming a succubus, to help him forward his larger scheme. She needed to make him believe that he could achieve that cooperation. But he expected resistance at the outset, so she had to resist enough to lull his suspicions.

With luck she could tempt him to his doom. Soon, she hoped, because the blood had drained from her raised arms, and the manacles were bruising her wrists. It was no joy standing here naked, either.

"No!" she said. "I know what you want, so you won't mutilate me, because that would ruin my body. Those other woman couldn't handle what you wanted, so they were expendable, but you can't expend me. So no, I'm not ready, and I'll never be ready, you ugly monster."

"You're a spitfire," he said, satisfied. "You'll be a great asset when harnessed."

"No I won't! I'll never work for you, you walking turd. You don't have the gumption to be a real man; you even have to have your doggie do your fornication for you."

Beautiful.

Shrapnel was annoyed. He expected defiance, but she was striking harder than he liked. "You are before me naked and chained. I can have my will of you at any time."

426 Key to Havoc

"I don't think so. I think you torture women because you can't face their sexuality. You can't get your little thing up. You can't have your will of any woman, certainly not me." As she spoke, she writhed, nominally trying to free herself, but in the process accentuating her breasts and thighs.

"I want to tame you, you barbarian lass, so that you will come to desire my favor above all else. You will beg me for satisfaction, when you are my mistress."

Gale forced a laugh. "You couldn't tame a fresh puppy! I could beg you all day and you wouldn't be able to oblige, you piddling excuse for a man."

She tossed her head so that her hair flung out and down, covering portions of her breasts in what she hoped was a tantalizing manner.

It's working. You've got his imagination, and you're making him mad. He's just about ready to rape you.

Indeed, the man was fumbling with the armor at his crotch. "You think I'll let you go if I use you. That's not so. You'll hang here until you are ready

to do my will. You will eat and drink and urinate and defecate right here, until

you are ready, regardless what I do with you in the interim."

The notion of having to perform bodily functions without facilities or the use of hands disgusted her, as it was supposed to. But so did the idea of tempting him into sex. She would do what she had to do. "You're bluffing!

You'll let me hang here because you have no interim." She wriggled again, and read the effect in his mind. His desire for her was now quite strong. He was really turned on by the sight of a beautiful naked woman in chains.

"Meanwhile, maybe I will call your bluff." He brought out his member, which was ready for action. True to her description, it was not large.

"And maybe you'll melt into impotence," she said sneeringly.

"We shall see." He stepped toward her, holding his member, orienting it.

Remember, he has to climax. Then I've got him.

Then a different thought crossed his mind. "I almost forgot. You're the king's lover, sent here by him. You could be booby-trapped." He stepped back, putting his member away.

Damn!

The ploy was lost; Gale read it in his mind. She was booby-trapped, but not the way he thought. She didn't see how she could convince him otherwise, so she went the opposite route. "Yes, Havoc sent me to destroy you, you pitiful excuse for a nothing. Now I am here, and you are doomed."

"I hardly think so. Did it not occur to you that your barbarian man has taken a new lover, and needs to be rid of you? What better way than by sending you to certain captivity or death. I understand the girl is only sixteen,

Piers Anthony 427

no spitfire, and is beautiful and endlessly obliging. No wonder he prefers her to you."

He had described the bath girl well. Rather than entertain the notion that he could be right about the rest, Gale kicked at him; but her foot glanced

off the armor at his crotch, as it had before. It was his victory; he had goaded

her into reacting. She knew she should shut up, but she just couldn't let the insult pass, for fear there was truth in it. "Havoc loves me. Even now he is acting to blot you out."

"With what army? My detectors indicate no advance against this fortress, only routine service calls."

Gale was curious despite herself, and she was after all trying to gather information. "Your detectors? Those were your spy-eyes?"

He was surprised. "Spy eyes? I have none." He was speaking the truth.

She was surprised in turn. "But there were spy eyes out there, watching me, and guiding attacks against me, to stop me from getting here."

Shrapnel smiled grimly. "You must have another enemy." Again, he was speaking the truth.

"You are more than enough enemy for me, you drag of snot. Let me go, and I will do you the favor of cutting your ugly face off."

He stood back, contemplating her. "I think I need to be certain you are secure. I can't trust you while you control your own body. So I shall have to separate your soul first, and put it in an otherwise wasted body."

"You're bluffing again. You have no female body free, and you can't put a female soul in a male body."

"Interesting that you should know that. You must have learned it from the succubus I set after you. How did you destroy her?"

He thinks I'm dead!

"I trapped her inside me, then bagged her in Sulvan seaweed. She won't bother me again."

"Then her body is free for your use." He walked to the place where a ring projected from the floor. He pulled on it, and the lid of a nether chamber came up. Below lay the wasted brown body of a woman.

That's me! Swale thought, horrified. I'm dying!

So it seemed. The hair was a matted mop separating from the skull, framing a sunken face whose brown teeth gaped like those of a skeleton. The eyeballs stared blindly out from sockets like half dehydrated grapes. The flesh of the limbs had shriveled around the bones, and the breasts were empty bags. Only the belly had any volume, and that seemed to be because of internal gases of decomposition. A putrid smell rose from it, confirming 428 Key to Havoc

this.

I was beautiful once, Swale moaned. I have been destroyed. My body will never recover.

Gale had to agree. Surely only a spell of stasis prevented the body from disintegrating entirely, and it would soon die in any event. The torture master

had not after all taken care of it; he had let it rot. That was probably his punishment for a slave who failed to return, for any reason. Perhaps, also, the

body without the soul was impossible to rouse, so couldn't be used even for menial chores.

"You can remain with me," Gale said internally.

But how will you survive? He will never let you go, even after you are ready to do his

bidding.

"Havoc will rescue me."

Havoc sent you into this trap! He has another girlfriend. He's rid of you.

"No, Havoc loves me." But Gale was aware how hollow her reassurance seemed. Why should anybody believe in a barbarian's good faith?

"So you still believe the king will save you," Shrapnel said. "You are praying to him to come to your rescue."

Gale realized that in her distraction, she had spoken aloud. "Yes," she said bravely. "Havoc will never let harm come to me."

He laughed, this time with some real feeling. "What a trusting innocent!

He told you to come and spy on me, and he would secure your safety--and you believed him? You will be better off to believe me, you creature of faith, for I have too much contempt for you to bother lying."

And the dragon seed did not buzz. This required some interpretation, because the man was trying to deceive her about the nature of the tortured golems. It might be that she already knew their nature, so Shrapnel was not fooling her there, and what else he said was true. Only if the net effect of his

statement was deceiving her would the seed buzz.

Gale did believe in Havoc. She knew him as no other person did, and trusted him. Somehow he would save her from this awful den.

It must be nice to have faith like that, however unjustified.

Gale fought off the doubt. "I will never cater to you, you cracked crock of spittle. Havoc will come for me." Yet it was growing difficult to maintain her certainty.

Shrapnel considered. "There just might be something in what you say.

There are a thousand ways to get rid of an outworn lover, and sending her to an enemy is not the most convenient. There must be some kind of mischief in you, and I must weed it out before I use you. So I shall have to separate Piers Anthony 429

your soul now."

"Only by killing me, you maggoty hulk. And you don't want to do that, and waste my body and my soul."

"Correct: I don't want to do that. But I now suspect it could be dangerous to wait on your eventual conversion. So I must draw on another re-source." He lifted one hand in a signal.

A figure walked into the chamber. It was a tall handsome young man, naked and muscular. "Master."

"Put her in there," Shrapnel said, indicating Swale's remnant of a body.

The man glanced there, and nodded.

Oh, glory! It's an incubus! I didn't know he had one.

An incubus. One who would have sex with her, bring her to orgasm, and suck out her soul. And put it in the incipient corpse of Swale's body.

Leaving her own body in a state of emptiness, suitable for whatever passive use he wished to make of it.

"How can I stop it?" she asked the succubus desperately.

You can't. He'll get into you, and his magic member will radiate such pleasure it will

incite you to climax, and then he'll take you.

"But he shouldn't be able to touch me."

That's right. I forgot. He has to tempt you into coming to him. Maybe you do have

a chance, if you can resist his blandishments.

"I can resist them."

That won't be easy. They are very seductive.

Meanwhile the incubus was standing before her, his dark eyes oddly appealing. "You are extremely lovely," he said, and his voice had a timbre that

sent an involuntary thrill along her spine. She found herself smiling at him, and inhaling, and trying to move her hips toward his. He was the sexiest man she had ever encountered. "Thank you," she replied, making her voice dulcet.

"Who are you?"

There was a buzz. "My name is Berm," he said.

A horrible shock went through Gale's body. It was Swale's reaction. My brother!

Her brother! How could this be? Gale was nonplused. How could Swale be expected to wipe out her brother?

So Gale tried to stall off the action by questioning him. "How did you come to assume this role?"

"I was in search of my sister, who had been captured by brigands," he replied, seeming to have no hesitancy. "But when I traced her to this enclave, and tried to rescue her, I was captured myself, and required to assume this 430 Key to Havoc

duty. So now I capture female souls for my master's purpose."

Wait a moment. Your dragon seed buzzed when he spoke his name.

Doesn't that mean he lied?

"Did it? I didn't notice. I must have been too distracted."

Ask him again.

Good idea. Gale shook her head, as if having trouble understanding.

"You are Berm, the brother of someone you searched for?"

"Yes." The seed buzzed again.

So he's lying, Swale thought with tremendous relief. I can go after him. I should have known: he hardly glanced at my body there, and didn't care. Berm would have

freaked out. So he's fair game, and I'll take him.

"You can? An incubus?"

Yes. But it will be a close call. He will be no innocent pushover. He has to be a

demon soul in the body of a living man, animating it. Subject to its limitations while he

uses it. We have to make him climax before you do. Then I'll have him before he has you.

"But how does he know about your brother?"

That I would like to know. And I'll find out if I capture him and have him in my

power.

Gale addressed the incubus again. "You mean to capture my spirit, so I will have to become a succubus?"

"Yes, of course. This should be fun, because you are a most attractive figure of a woman. I have had to seduce a number of mediocre bodies, and I don't enjoy that as much."

"But doesn't it bother you to do this to a living person? To destroy her life?"

He shrugged. "No. I enjoy it."

He's definitely not my brother.

"Get on with it," Shrapnel said impatiently from the side. "I want to defuse whatever danger this woman represents."

"There is a problem," the Incubus said. "I may not touch her; she must touch me. But she is confined and can't come to me."

"Stand where you are, close to her."

The incubus stepped up very close. Gale flattened herself against the wall, avoiding contact.

"Handmaid," Shrapnel said.

A young woman appeared. She was clothed, and moderately attractive.

That bitch! Swale thought. She's his servant and mistress by choice. She resented me from

the start, because she thought he would replace her with me, once I capitulated. Actually he

didn't, because he couldn't trust a succubus, but still she hated me. She surely hates you too,

Piers Anthony 431

because he truly desires you for his mistress, and you are beautiful. But she does his bidding

implicitly, eager for his favor.

"That's not the half of it," Gale responded silently. "She's the one who repairs the tortured golems, so that they can suffer more next day. In fact, she

animates them during the tortures, so that they seem alive. She knew you were being deceived all along."

I'll kill her!

"All in good time. I think she's got mischief for me at the moment."

Handmaid approached Gale. She stood on her left side and wedged her right hand between Gale's back and the wall, forcing her torso forward, pushing her into the incubus.

"Hey--that's not my volition!" Gale protested.

"It doesn't matter," Shrapnel said. "You are doing the moving."

Curses! He's found a loophole.

Handmaid shoved harder, getting her elbow behind. Gale banged involuntarily into the man's still body. Her breasts flattened against his chest, and

her belly pushed his erect member against his belly. She knew she should recoil at the contact, but she found it physically thrilling. He was warm and supple and so awfully masculine.

Don't do it!

Gale caught herself standing on her toes, trying to raise her cleft enough to get on top of his member. She had never before had such a strong physical urge to do what her mind knew was wrong. It was almost like the sex she had had with Placebo, when she picked up his mental lust and felt it as her own.

But in this case there was no mind she could read; the spirit of the incubus seemed to have none left over for anything other than his immediate business. It was purely his physical presence that stimulated her. Swale was right:

she must resist all the way, lest she give away the counter-trap. She dropped her heels to the floor.

"Move away," Shrapnel said. Both Handmaid and incubus withdrew.

Then Shrapnel brought out a small wand. "Lift your feet," he grunted to Gale.

"Forget it, thug," Gale snapped.

Shrapnel touched the wand to her right foot. Pain lanced through flesh and bone. She yanked up her foot involuntarily, and he slid a stone block into place where her foot had been.

"Now the other foot," he said.

She tried to balk, but the wand forced her to haul it away. Now both legs were lifted, and she was hanging cruelly by her arms.

432 Key to Havoc

"Stand close," Shrapnel told the incubus. The man obeyed, moving as close as he could without actually touching Gale's flesh.

She had to put her feet down, to support her body. They landed on the blocks. She was now slightly higher than the incubus.

"Move her out." Handmaid shoved her arm back behind Gale, forcing her into the man's body with its erect penis. She felt his member drop into the slight hollow where her thighs met her torso, and lodge right at the brink of her female aperture. She tried to clamp her legs together, but instead they parted, in another involuntary reaction.

Still, there was not entry, and the incubus could not move to effect it.

He had to be passive. Shrapnel got down again and pulled the blocks out from under her feet. She tried to stand on her toes so as not to drop onto the ready member, but Shrapnel touched her on the shoulder with the wand, and she jammed down to escape it. But the force of her descent was such that the incubus' member was shoved too far back.

Shrapnel methodically repeated the process, raising her onto the blocks, moving the incubus in, then having Handmaid shove her out, and making her drop down again. The third try did it, and she found herself coming down on the incubus, surrounding the tip of his erect member with her cleft, and feeling that member slowly slide into her, wholly through her own motion. Despite her effort to balk, the excitement of the incubus was such that her cleft

was wet with desire, and offered no resistance. The irony was that a very significant part of her mind wanted it to happen. The member was simply delightful to enclose.

Her toes touched the floor. She could not get all the way down; she was impaled on his member, which was now firmly into her, and radiating phenomenal pleasure, just as Swale had warned. It was all she could do to refrain from bouncing around, to make it stroke her inside and bring her to the terrible pleasure it promised.

Handmaid drew back, as her assistance was no longer needed. "Go to it, bitch," the servant girl said, watching avidly. "Dance on him."

Gale felt fury that this traitorous lackey should get to goad her as well as betray her. But this was not the time to dwell on that. The last thing she needed to do was cooperate with the incubus.

Do it.

"Do it? But that will set me off. I'm dangerously close to it now."

Think cold showers. Think torture. Think ice inside you, numbing sensation.

But

do bounce--to set him off.

Oh, yes: he had to climax, not her. Gale tried, but her body screamed Piers Anthony 433

seduction. It wanted to wrap itself around that rigid member and draw the implosion of pleasure that was promised.

Then Swale helped. She made an image of the green girl getting her breast cut off. That froze Gale, turning her off any thought of climax, even though she knew that the green girl wasn't real. Now she could bounce with impunity, for the vital mental component of her desire had been stilled. She did so.

"Ah, you are getting into it," the incubus said, satisfied.

"Yeah," Handmaid agreed. "Ride him, bitch."

Seduce him!

"Yes!" Gale breathed. She reached for his lips with hers, and kissed him.

After all, it wasn't as if their contact wasn't already as intimate as it could get.

She lifted one shoulder as well as she could, hauling up the breast below it, and then the other, making her breasts move against his chest. She heaved up her legs, hooking her bare toes behind him. She clenched her internal muscles in the way that had always set Havoc off immediately. It had been one of their games: he had tried to take his time, and she had forced him to erupt early--then smilingly rebuked him for rushing. Then he had insisted on a replay of the match, and succeeded in setting her off before he climaxed a second time. She had never thought that she would be turning that technique into a battle for her soul.

Then she felt the climax coming. Oh, no--she had lost sight of the tortured girl and begun to enjoy the process, and now she had tipped the balance and was falling into the intense bliss of doom. She tried to stop it, to

conjure images of torture, but they transformed into images of urgent passion. Helplessly she felt it build and build, until it overflowed all bounds and

geysered powerfully, pulse after pulse, jet after jet, soaking her interior with its

hot essence.

Got him!

The incubus slumped. His softening member slid out of her, and he fell to the floor. What had happened?

Handmaid screamed.

Then she became aware that Swale was gone. And realized that it had not been her orgasm she had felt, but his. It had dominated his limited mind as his member spurted inside her. He hadn't realized what was happening until it was too late to stem the tide--just as it had seemed to be the case with

her. With the transfer of feeling by the mind reading, it had seemed to be her own orgasm. But it wasn't, for now she hung on the wall, her body unfulfilled. She had been denied--and thereby saved her soul.

434 Key to Havoc

And Swale had captured the soul of the incubus, and taken it--elsewhere.

"What happened?" Shrapnel asked.

He didn't know! He didn't realize that she had reversed the ploy. Because he hadn't known that Swale was still with her. And she didn't want him to know, because she remained largely helpless. He could still kill her. She needed to survive until Havoc rescued her.

So she hung her head, feigning unconsciousness. Let him assume that her soul was gone. That maybe the incubus had slipped and fallen after capturing her soul.

"She has that bitch Swale!" Handmaid said. "She took out Berm!"

A curse on the girl; she had caught on, and given it away.

"That succubus--you kept her!" Shrapnel cried. "She got the incubus!"

Gale lifted her head. "Yes, you piece of feces," she said. "We destroyed your champion."

Shrapnel made an incoherent sound of utter rage. He drew his knife and started toward her. She realized that she had destroyed the incubus, only to be killed herself. She should have continued her pretense of unconsciousness.

"Hold, varlet!" a voice cried behind him.

Gale looked. There was Havoc, in full barbarian uniform, brandishing a sword. He had come to rescue her!

But he was only half a foot high.

Piers Anthony 435

H