Roger Zelazny - If at Faust You Don't Succeed

"Brought me what?" "Succor. Aid. Help. Relief. Don't you recognize my voice, Isaac? I am Henry Dandolo!"

"It's the doge!" Faust whispered to Marguerite. "Henry Dandolo, the all-powerful doge of Venice!"

Raising his voice, Faust called out, "Doge Dandolo! In here! We crave your intercession!" There was a mutter of voices, a stomping of feet. And then the door to Faust's dungeon was thrown open. Two soldiers entered. And just behind them was the tall, erect old figure of Henry Dandolo, resplendent in his brocaded robes of scarlet and green, holding in his hand the holy icon of St. Basil. "Who are you who thus calls me by name?" Dandolo demanded.

"I am Johann Faust," Faust cried. "I have come to this place to right a great wrong done to me. There is a fellow here who says he's me, and who has duped a gullible infernal power with his story. He claims to be a great magician, but he's not. I'm the great magician!"

"I see," Dandolo said.

"I beseech you, Henry Dandolo, release me from this place and I will prove a worthy ally to you!"

"If you're such a great magician," Dandolo said, "why don't you release yourself?"

"Even a sorcerer needs a few tools," Faust said. "I don't have any of my conjuring equipment here. Yet if I had just a single missing piece to complete the spell—that icon you hold in your hand, for example…"

Henry Dandolo looked at him with anger. "You would conjure with the holy icon of St. Basil?"

"Why, yes, of course, that's what holy icons are for!"

"The sole purpose of the icon of St. Basil," Dandolo thundered, "is to preserve the city of Constantinople from harm."

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it, is it?"

"Don't you worry about that. It's nothing to do with you."

"Maybe not," Faust said. "At least release us, since we have done you no harm and are not your enemies."

"I need to look into your claim to being a magician," Dandolo said. "I will be back."

And with that he swung around, and, guided by the soldiers, left the dungeon. The door clanged shut and the key turned again.

"It's impossible to reason with these pigheaded Venetians!" Faust said. "Oh, my goodness, what will we do now?" Marguerite wailed.

Marguerite was depressed. Faust was feeling none too chipper himself, though in his case it was more outraged pride that irritated him than fear of death. He paced up and down, trying to think of an expedient. It had been shortsighted of him to go chasing after Mephistopheles without making sure he had his magic in order. He remembered when he had traveled throughout Europe with a bag of tricks. He had always been prepared. Had respectability dulled his wits? And if it had, how was he to know it? He toyed again with his pentagram, more just in order to occupy his hands than with any real hope of success. He was amazed to see a light growing again within the inscribed lines. It was a little light at first, just like the previous time, but it grew larger, and this time the light was of a red-and-orange hue, a color which presaged a visit from someone hellish. As the light took on human shape, Faust called out, "O spirit! I have conjured thee from the darkest pits—"

"No, you haven't," the creature in the light said, taking on the form now of a smallish, fox-faced demon with short goatlike horns, wearing a skintight sealskin suit that outlined his well-turned figure. "I haven't conjured you?"

"Certainly not. I came of my own accord. I am Azzie. I am a demon."

"I am very pleased to meet you," said Faust. "I am Johann Faust and this is my friend, Marguerite."

"I know who you are," Azzie said. "I have been observing your actions, and those of Mephistopheles, and of the other man who calls himself Faust."

"Then you know that he is an impostor! I am Faust!"

"Indeed you are," Azzie said.

"Well then?"

"Well, I have been considering the situation. And I have a proposition to make to you."

"At last!" Faust cried. "Recognition! Revenge! Eternal delights!"

"Not so fast," Azzie said. "You haven't heard the terms of my proposition."

"Well then, out with it!"

"No, not here," Azzie said. "A Frankish prison is not where I conduct my negotiations."

"Where, then?"

"I have in mind a certain mountaintop," Azzie said. "It is a high mountain in the Caucasus, not far from where Noah first found land after the Flood. There we can talk and I can lay forth my proposition with all due majesty."

"Lead on, then," Faust said.

"What about her?" Faust asked.

"She can't come. My bargain will only be with you, Faust, not with a camp-follower jade."

"You've got a lot of nerve!" Marguerite said. "I'm with him! I've even helped him in his enchantments. He asked me along. Johann, you can't leave me here!"

Faust turned to Azzie. "It's not right, you know."

"I give you my word of honor," Azzie said, "she'll be all right."

"You're sure?"

"I'm never wrong about things like that."

"Then let's go," Faust said, "Marguerite, we'll be back together after a while. I hate to do this, but business is business." But actually, Faust was not sorry to leave her, because Marguerite hadn't proven quite as admiring and servile as he'd hoped.

"No, no! Take me along!" The unhappy girl rushed to Faust and tried to throw her arms around him. But Azzie made a gesture. Smoke and fire arose, and Marguerite had to back off. When it had cleared, Faust and Azzie were gone, she was alone in the dungeon, and there was the heavy tread of soldiers approaching the door.

Azzie, with Faust in tow, flew high and fast, above the towers of Constantinople, then to the southwest above the great plain of Anatolia. They passed over an occasional mud village, homes of the Turks who had migrated to this place from the back of beyond, and were even now raiding as far north as the fortifications of the great city. After a while they were over a region of low, barren hills, and then they came to the first peaks of the Caucasus Mountains. Azzie gained more elevation to pass over them, and Faust found himself shivering violently in the thin, chill air. The mountaintops lay below them, their tops piercing the fluffy white clouds, illuminated by the bright sun.

"See that big one ahead?" Azzie asked Faust, raising his voice against the windstream. "That's where we're going."

They landed on its summit, on a flat tableland that was drenched in brilliant noonday sunshine. Faust wanted to ask Azzie how he had brought this about, since it had been nighttime when they left the Crusaders' camp. But he didn't want to appear ignorant, so he said instead, "Where are we?"

"This is Mount Crescendo, highest peak in the Caucasus," Azzie said. "It is not far from Mount Ararat, where Noah first found dry land after the Flood."

Faust walked to the edge. Through the crystal air he could see for miles and miles, all the way down to peaceful settlements on the flatlands below. Beyond that he could just make out a pink stone palace, decorated with white walls and turrets and looking very like a birthday cake.

"That is Castle Carefree," Azzie said. "It will be yours if you do my bidding."

"What are the special qualities of Castle Carefree?" Faust asked.

"You notice that pink stone that Carefree is constructed from? That is happiness stone, and it comes from the Golden Age of mankind, when all was well with everybody and everything. This stone is so permeated with the essences of good tuck and happiness that one tends to walk around most of the time in a state of mild euphoria. It is a place where you can be happy and blithe, Faust. And this palace has the usual assortment of maidens of the most exquisite form, with heartstoppingly beautiful faces, and figures that would make an angel weep, though he'd better not let his superiors catch him in such an unangelic attitude."