Rick Cook - Wizard’s Bane

"Well, I always have been a frippery fellow, Light. With never your fine, serious purpose."

"Mock me if you will, but we do important work." She sighed. "I do not know what I would have chosen had I been free to choose. But I had a talent for this and a head for the proper sort of spells. The job needed doing, desperately, so here I am."

"And you regret it?"

Shiara shook her head and the ends of her silvery hair danced in the firelight. "No. My bargain has been fulfilled as well." She smiled at him. "I have had all that and love as well."

Cormac reached over and squeezed her hand. "We’ve had more luck than any two mortals deserve, Light."

Shiara stared into the fire. "It cannot last, you know."

Cormac’s brows arched. "A premonition?"

"A thought, rather. It is risky work we do and soon or late it will catch up with us."

A ghost of a cloud crossed Cormac’s brow. "Mayhap," he said easily. "Or mayhap we will both die peacefully in bed." He leered at her. "The same bed, I hope." Shiara reached out and drew him to her.

They made love, desperately and with a bittersweet passion, as if their coupling could erase the whole World and any thought of the morrow.

They found the cave less than three hours after they broke camp the next morning. Above the boulder field ran a steep canyon, cleaving its way toward the mountain’s top. There was a rushing glacial stream, chill and sharp, down the canyon, making the dark rocks slippery and hard to climb.

They came around a twist in the canyon and saw the cave mouth halfway up the cliff. There was a boulder-strewn ledge leading up from the canyon floor, making a natural pathway. The cave entrance itself was dark, jagged and about as inviting as the mouth of Hell.

"Wait," hissed Shiara and put her hand on Cormac’s bicep. She pointed a little downslope from the mouth of the cave.

There was a flash of white against the dark rock, like the branches of a dead and barkless tree. Cormac squinted and caught his breath. They were bones, not branches and from their shape and size they could only be the bones of one thing.

"A dragon," Cormac said quietly. "A dragon died here, and not a small one, either."

"Dragons prefer caves as lairs," Shiara said. "It would appear that this one chose the wrong resting place."

"It did not die naturally." Cormac pointed with his blade. "Look at the way the ribs are smashed. But what could do that to a grown dragon?"

"The sort of creature which would be set to guard a great treasure," Shiara said gravely.

"And you think it is still there, Light?"

"A thing which could slay a dragon would not be expected to have a short life."

Cormac scanned the ledge and the cave mouth again. "There are no other bones. Surely other things would have tried to lair here from time to time."

"Perhaps they did not arouse the guardian. Dragons are more intelligent than most animals. And greedier than most men. Or perhaps whatever is within is careful to dispose of its refuse so as not to warn others."

"Hmm. A pretty problem then." Cormac backed warily out of sight of the cave mouth and settled on a rock. "Do you sense magic?"

Shiara wrinkled her nose. "Like smoke in a hut in wintertime. It is everywhere and strong. There is a blocking spell to confine the emanations, but this near I can feel it pressing. Whatever is within that mountain is powerful indeed." She shivered. "And malign!"

"But you cannot tell me what guards that door?"

"If I had to guess I would say a demon. But it would only be a guess."

"So what now?"

"Now," Shiara said, bending to her kit, "we need a stalking horse. Something to enter the cave in our stead and see what lies within." She looked up at him. "Plug your ears."

Cormac clapped hands to his ears while Shiara drew from her bag a gnarled brown root no longer than the length of her index finger. Looking more closely Cormac could see that the root was bifurcated and vaguely man-shaped.

Shiara blew upon the root and spoke softly to it. Instantly the valley was filled with a hideous inhuman screaming. The root writhed and screamed in Shiara’s grasp until she completed the spell. Then she stood up and threw the root to the ground.

Cormac blinked. Standing before him was himself, an exact duplicate down to the scars on his arms and the creases in his worn leather swordbelt.

"How do you like our stalking horse?"

"A mandrake image." Cormac walked around the figure and nodded approvingly. "Lady, you outdo yourself."

"Let us hope the guard at that gate finds it satisfactory," Shiara said. She leaned close and whispered in the ear of the homunculus. Wordlessly the thing turned and strode up the path toward the cave.

"It even has my walk," Cormac said as the thing climbed to the cave mouth.

"It is your true double."

The homunculus went fearlessly to the cave mouth and stepped in without breaking stride. Shiara and Cormac held their breaths for three long heartbeats. Then there was a terrible bellowing roar from the cave and the sounds of swift combat. They saw movement in the darkness and then a tiny brown thing came flying out of the cave to bounce off the opposite wall of the valley.

"A demon in truth!" Cormac breathed. "How do you slay such a one?"

"With a more powerful demon," Shiara said, still transfixed by what they had seen.

"You don’t have one of those in that bag of yours do you Light?"

"Not likely. But if it cannot be slain, then perhaps it can be immobilized." She set down her bag and rummaged around in it. "First we must know more about it."

"You’re not going to send another homunuculus of me into that, are you? It does me no good to see myself slain."

"That was the only mandrake root I had. But let us see what happens with something different."

With her silver wand she sketched a quick design in the dirt and spoke a single phrase. Now another warrior stood before them, a tall lean man with dark hair, a lantern jaw and icy blue eyes. He was dressed in a mail hauberk and carried a two-handed sword over his shoulder.

"Donal to the flesh!" Cormac laughed. "He looks as if he just stepped off the drill ground at the Capital."

"No flesh, just an illusion. Now let us see what the demon makes of this one." She spoke to the thing and without a word it turned and started up the ledge.

At the mouth of the cave the false Donal halted and bellowed out a challenge that made the valley ring. There was no response. It approached the entrance and thrust over the threshold with its great sword. Again nothing. Finally it strode bodly into the cavern calling insults to whatever was within.

Once more Cormac and Shiara held their breaths. But this time there was no sound of battle from the cave.

After a minute the illusion returned to the cave mouth and waved to them.

"It didn’t go for it."

"But that does not make sense," Shiara protested. "The illusion was indistinguishable from the homunculus."

"Not to the demon," Cormac observed.

"Yes, but I don’t see why the demon would attack a homunculus and a dragon but not an illusion. It doesn’t…" she stopped short. "Fortuna, a true name! The homunculus had a true name but the illusion did not." She turned to Cormac with her sapphire eyes wide. "That thing can sense a being’s true name!"

"Dragons don’t have true names," Cormac protested.

"Adult dragons do. Oh, not juveniles such as our cavalry ride, but when a dragon becomes a full adult it acquires a true name. The homunculus had a true name just as any demon does. That is how you control them. But the illusion did not."

Cormac eyed the cave mouth. "A very pretty problem then."

"Worse than that," Shiara said. "The demon did not know the true name of homunculus and I doubt the dragon stopped for conversation before entering the cave. Yet the demon killed them both."