It was late in the afternoon when they got the digging spell working. The wan sun was sinking toward the horizon, throwing highlights off the sullen gray surface of the Freshened Sea and sending dark shadows creeping out across the ruins. The cold deepened with the growing twilight and all three programmer/magicians had wrapped their cloaks tightly around themselves to try to stay warm.
"I'm not sure I like this," Jerry said as they huddled together for a final review of their handiwork. "We really should run a couple more tests."
"We don't have time. Unless you want to stay here all night?"
Jerry looked around at the menacing ruins and pulled his cloak tighter. "No thanks. I just wish . . ."
"Oh come on, we've tested the thing to death," Danny said. "Let's get this over with. I'm freezing."
Mentally Wiz reviewed the spell one more time. It simply checked each loose piece within its radius of operation to see if it was the heart of the demon and if it wasn't, tossed it aside. When it reached the demon's heart, it would stop. It was straightforward enough and Wiz couldn't find any flaws. Besides he was as cold as Danny was.
"Okay," he said. "Let's do it."
All three of them stepped back from the pile of rubble and out the collapsed archway. When they were in position, Wiz called:
"emac"
A three-foot-high demon with enormous ears popped up before him. "?" it said.
Wiz pointed his staff at the rubble choking the room. "kill exe!" he commanded.
The Emac turned toward the spot and gabbled soundlessly. Then it bowed and popped out of existence.
For a moment nothing happened.
"It takes a while for the effect to build up," Wiz explained unnecessarily.
"I just wish . . ." Jerry began. "I have this awful feeling we forgot something."
"It's working!" Danny shouted, pointing at the rubble. A single pebble detached itself from the pile and flew off in a flat arc. Then another pebble whipped of in another direction, and another and another.
As the three watched a head-sized chunk of material shook itself loose and lobbed away from the rubble. Then several more pebbles.
One of the pebbles flew over Wiz's head with an ugly singing whirr.
"Direction," Jerry said abstractedly. "Did we put anything in the spell to control which way the rubble would go when it left the pile?"
"No," Wiz said apprehensively, as another volley of material broke loose from the mound.
"Then hit the dirt!" Jerry shouted as a dozen big chunks of rubble came flying straight at them.
All three of them dropped and rolled behind the remains of the wall just as a half-dozen pieces of stone went through the spot where they had been standing, humming like angry bees. Then a torso-sized slab of black marble lofted over the wall and crashed into the frozen dust behind them.
Then all Hell broke loose.
The pile of rubble exploded outwards in all directions. The small stuff came off with the velocity of rifle bullets. The bigger pieces arced away like mortar shells. The three wizards pressed themselves against the base of the wall and tried to burrow into the dirt as debris landed all around them.
I am not a target, Wiz told himself as he tried to become one with the base of the wall. This is not aimed at me. He shifted slightly just as the remains of a large piece of furniture sailed over the ruined wall and crashed to earth a few feet from him. Abstractedly he realized there should be a simple command to shut the spell down, but it's hard to think when you're in the middle of an artillery barrage and impossible to talk when your mouth is full of dirt.
There were crashes and thuds and whizzes and occasionally a nasty spang as something hit the wall and ricocheted away. Once a big piece hit the top of the wall, knocking off chips and showering them down on the cowering trio. The dust grew so thick that Wiz couldn't see two feet in front of him—not that he was looking.
Then suddenly it was quiet.
No more crashes. No more earth-shaking thuds. Just a couple of zips from small stuff and then silence. Even the dust started to settle.
Wiz raised his head and looked around wonderingly. Then he realized Moira was screaming at him through the communications crystal.
"We're fine," he told her, looking at his companions. "The spell was just a little more effective than we thought."
"Oh man," Danny muttered. "Anyone got anything for shell shock?"
"It's the details," Jerry said to no one in particular. "It's always the details that get you in trouble."
Wiz made a feeble attempt to brush himself off and peered around the archway.
The remains of the arch were pocked and scarred with fresh blemishes, white against the polished black granite. But the room itself was as clean as if it had been excavated by a team of expert archaeologists and then scrubbed and vacuumed by a village of Japanese housewives. There, almost exactly in the center of the room, sitting on the newly exposed mosaics of the floor, was a cloudy gray sphere.
Wiz stepped through the archway and realized he was tracking dirt back onto the clean floor.
"Okay," he said into the communications crystal. "We have the thing located. If it's safe come on through."
Then he looked around and bit his lip.
Wiz didn't like any part of the operation, but this next step was his least favorite, even counting facing the golden demon. Moira was not immune to Bale-Zur, but she knew more about controlling a demon than any of the programmers. In addition to having more skill at natural magic, she had spent long sessions at Heart's Ease with Shiara the Silver learning all the former wizardess could tell her about such things. If their plan failed, Moira was their last line of defense.
"Sharp lookout everyone," he called over his shoulder. Danny and Jerry spread out, staffs ready, peering into the building gloom for any sign of trouble.
Two figures popped into existence on the polished floor, not just one.
"What the hell is she doing here?" Wiz demanded.
Moira frowned at the greeting and then she whirled. Standing behind her, not two paces away, was June.
"How did you get here?" Moira asked sharply. But June just smiled triumphantly and made a beeline for Danny.
"I thought you said she didn't have any magical ability," Wiz whispered to Moira as the couple hugged and June clung to Danny's arm.
"She does not—I think," Moira whispered back.
"Well then?"
Moira only shrugged.
"Let us get it over with," Moira said. With Danny, Wiz and Jerry forming a perimeter guard, she knelt by the heart of Bale-Zur and reached slowly out to it.
For a long time she stayed motionless, her hand hovering over the cloudy crystal sphere. At last she began to move her fingers slowly over the surface, caressing it without quite touching it. Her lips began to move as she started the chant she had been taught to bring the demon back under control.
With the point of her staff she marked a pentagram around the demon's heart. Then she stood up, backed off a step and raised her staff. Her voice rose to a wild cry as she gestured into the air. In spite of himself Wiz found his attention was drawn to his wife and her work.
The sphere pulsed and glowed with an inner light, casting a greenish-gray luminance around itself and Moira. It rocked back and forth as if seeking to break free of the imprisoning figure. Still Moira continued the eerie chant, bouncing the words off the ruined walls like bullets.
And then Bale-Zur was there.
Half-hopping, half-shambling, the huge demon moved into the circle of weird radiance. Its great horned head turned neither right nor left and its glowing eyes, red as the fires of Hell, stayed fixed on the hedge witch and the heart. For an awful moment Wiz thought the monster would reach out and grind Moira into a red smear, as he had done with a legion of wizards from the Dark League. Instead the demon approached her across its heart and sank down on its haunches to stare motionless at the woman and the sphere.
Moira continued her chant as if nothing had changed. She lowered her staff and pointed at the heart. Bale-Zur stayed motionless, great taloned hands resting on his misshapen horned knees. The hedge witch extended her staff and tapped the crystal sphere once, twice, three times. The demon leaned forward as if in special interest. Moira repeated the three taps and Bale-Zur cocked its head. Again the three taps and this time the demon seemed to shrink in on itself like a deflating balloon. Suddenly, noiselessly, it shrank and vanished without a trace. The glow faded and all that was left was a woman and head-sized ball of some shiny black material.
Moira grounded her staff and sighed deeply. Then she sagged against it.
That broke the spell. Wiz rushed to her and put his arms about her shoulders. She leaned against him and he could feel her heart pounding even through the thick cloak she wore.
"Fine," she muttered. "M'fine. Just hold me, will you?"
Danny, Jerry and June all gathered around them in the deepening gloom of evening. Moira took a deep breath and straightened in Wiz's arms.
"It is done," she said in a surprisingly strong voice.
Wiz looked at the globe, now cold and dark. "That's it then," he said. "Bale-Zur is gone."
"May we never see its like again," Moira said fervently.
"Oh, you will not, mortals," said a sweetly mocking voice behind them. "I see that in your future."
All four of them whirled. There, standing poised on the ruined wall, was an elf.
Like all her kind, she was tall and slender. The delicate points of her ears peeked through the long dark hair that curved around her face and fell loose down her back. Her oddly slanted eyes were as blue as Moira's were green. In spite of the cold she wore a shoulderless gown of fine pale pink stuff that rippled in the chill wind and set off her pale skin and dark hair. She was as alien as she was beautiful, utterly relaxed and as menacing as a tiger poised to spring.
June screamed and sank back against Danny. Moira stepped to the side and held her staff aloft as if to strike. Danny clutched June to him and Wiz and Jerry simply goggled.
"Uh, hi," Wiz said, completely nonplussed. "Lisella, isn't it?"
The elf maiden arched her beautifully formed brows and pursed her red lips in a mock pout.
"You have forgotten me already. I am disappointed, Sparrow."
"Ah, not exactly." I never forget someone who's tried to kill me. The elf looked amused at his discomfort.
"So," he said at last, "what brings you here?"
Lisella smiled, bright and cold as the moon at midwinter. "Why, I came to renew our acquaintance, Sparrow, and to offer you a gift of prophecy. Shall I tell you your future?"
"Uh, no thanks."
"Ruin and loss," Lisella went on as if he had not spoken. "Your company shall meet your greatest enemy, one like you with powers as great as yours and allies greater than you can imagine." Her voice rang off the stones and the wind pulled at her skirt and hair. "At the crossroads of the worlds you and your companions shall meet him in a great battle. The mightiest among you shall die, each of your number shall suffer great loss and your enemy shall achieve his heart's desire."
She raised her arm and made a sweeping gesture that encompassed all of them. "That is your future, mortals. That is what lies ahead."
And then she was gone. The only sound was June's harsh sobbing echoing off the cold stone.
They looked at each other.
"Bitch!" Danny said fiercely as he clung to his wife. "Goddamn bitch."
"That's the one who was trying to kill you?" Jerry asked Wiz.
"Yeah. She kept trying to set up magical accidents."
"Why?"
"Who knows? I met her once at Duke Aelric's but by that time she'd been after me for months. I think it was some sort of cat-and-mouse game between her and Aelric—with them as cats and me as the mouse. She'd try to kill me by accident and Aelric would help me escape by the skin of my teeth."
"Do you think she's after you again?"
Wiz looked apprehensively at the place on the wall where Lisella had stood. Then he shrugged. "Maybe."
Jerry followed his gaze. "It sounds like we're in for some real trouble."
"If she's right, maybe."
"Well, elves can foretell the future, can't they?"
"Foretelling and true speaking are two different things," Moira said firmly. "Elves can see truly but they are as false and tricksome as a piskhie maze. Clearly she means us no good and we had best ignore what she has said."
It would have been more convincing, Wiz thought, if her knuckles hadn't been white on her staff.
"Well anyway, I think we'd better wind up here and get back to the Capital," Jerry said. "Bal-Simba needs to know about this."
"I don't think he's going to like it much," Wiz predicted.
Wiz's prophecy, at least, was correct. The enormous black wizard heard them out and then led them back through their story time and again with sharp questions. At last he had no more questions and simply sat with his head sunk into his hamlike hands. The group of programmers sat clustered around the table, unsure what to do next but unwilling to depart without his leave.
"What do you think it means, Lord?" Wiz ventured at last.
"I wish I knew, Sparrow." He lapsed into silence again.
"There have been other elven prophecies to mortals," Moira said. "Or so the stories say."
"Not like this," Arianne said from her place behind Bal-Simba's chair. "Those stories speak of chance meetings and a prophecy given either as a reward or punishment."
"This was neither," Bal-Simba said. "She asked for nothing. More, she obviously sought you out at a time when you would all be together and away from the Capital and its protections."
"What should we do?"
"There is nothing we can do. The future may be open to elves, but to us it is closed and hidden. We can only live our lives as best we can and see what comes of all this."
"I wish I knew what her game was," Wiz said.
"I wish I knew why she wanted you dead," Moira replied.
"She hasn't tried to kill me since I was kidnapped to the City of Night. That's something anyway."
"True," Bal-Simba said. "It is something. I only wish I knew what."