"Challenges?" She wasn't sure she liked the sound of it. Not for twelve-year-old girls.
"The Annex is deep in the mountain, of course. There are cliffs, pitfalls, monsters—that sort of thing. Routine."
"Routine! I'm not sending my child or yours into that! Those girls are only—"
"Twelve years old," he finished for her. "Mother, the challenges are only illusions. No danger—as long as the unworthy person does not attempt to steal an instrument."
Now it was coming clear. "They run the course—and if they get through without making an error, then they can try for the prizes?"
"Precisely. And if they do make an error, they have simply to depart immediately, without waking the King. He gets angry when awoken."
"And proceeding on, after an error, wakes him?"
"Yes. It really isn't wise to do that."
She pondered. "Exactly what would happen if he wakes?"
"He would turn the challenges real."
"Real pitfalls, instead of illusory ones?"
"That's it. Mother," he said with the calmness that a person of normal intelligence assumes when dealing with one of limited intellect. "And if that person attempts to steal—"
"Then—not that our girls would, but—?"
"Then the Mountain King would personally intervene. I could not protect them in the King's hall; he is omnipotent there. The moonstones protect them from evil, but the Mountain King is not evil, just tough. But it should never come to that."
"I wouldn't let them take the risk!"
He shrugged. "Why don't you go along to chaperone them? Then you can be sure they don't do anything foolish. The Mountain King is a fair man; he will not bother anyone who honors his rules."
"I can do that? Run the challenges with them?"
"Of course you can. Mother!" he said, as if her intellect had turned out to be below his already-modest expectations. "The King is not fussy about details. I would take the girls in myself, but he wouldn't tolerate my presence. Rival magic, you know."
"The instruments are good ones?"
"The best that exist, Mother," he assured her patiently. "State of the art."
She sighed. "Then I'll do it."
She took them in, parking the car beside the huge sign: MOUNTAIN KING—ANNEX. They entered the marked aperture, which resembled a jewel-encrusted cave. The girls were thrilled and nervous. They had heard stories about the nefarious halls of the Mountain King, but had never hoped to visit them personally. They had wanted to dress prettily, but Niobe had insisted on jeans and sneakers. "This isn't a fashion show!" she snorted.
Inside were signs with arrows: TOURISTS—CHALLENGES. They took the latter direction.
The passage opened into a large cave with a rocky floor. A painted yellow line wound around between the rocks to the far side. Several motorcycles were parked at the near side. A big sign said INSTRUCTIONS.
Niobe moved over to read the sign. Smaller print on it clarified the conditions of the challenge. She read and whistled. "This really is a challenge!"
The girls read the sign. "Mother, we can't do that!" Orb protested.
"I confess I don't like it," Niobe agreed. "But remember: the hazards are not real. They're illusions."
The challenge was to ride a motorcycle along the line, which was the only safe route across the minefield. Because this was the first, one error was permitted. Because the mines were illusions, they would merely flash brightly when set off, rather than blow the transgressor apart. "How sweet of the Mountain King," Niobe murmured with a certain irony.
"But if we set off two," Luna said, "we can't get our instruments?"
"That's right, dear. Because if we took anything after failing the challenge of passage, those mines would become real." It was, she had to admit, a nice device of selection. Those who could handle the challenges would have no problem; those who could not would be absolute fools to trigger the non-illusory threats. The Mountain King played a hard but fair game.
"Ooo," Orb murmured softly. She was the more reactive of the two, quicker to turn on or off, quicker to anger or to forgiveness. "But if we play the game honestly, we have nothing to fear."
"That's right. That's a good rule for life." Niobe looked at the motorcycles, and at the minefield, and the meandering line. How much clearance was there on either side of it? And the girls—neither had ridden more than a bicycle before. One would be sure to waver too far. This was too much of a challenge!
"I'd better take you across, one at a time," Niobe decided. "The largest cycle will handle two."
She wheeled out the large motorcycle, started it—trusting that the cave was large enough to handle the fumes of the exhaust—and rode it up and down the side, making sure she had the hang of it. Obviously the Mountain King had expected a man to challenge, rather than a woman and girls. When she was satisfied, she put Orb on it behind her, the girl clasping her about the middle, and rode up to the side again. "Now lean with me when I make the turn," she said. "The balance has to be just so, as with a bicycle."
"Yes, Mother."
"Luna, you have the eye for depth. You watch us, and cry warning if I seem to be misjudging a curve."
"Yes, Grandma." The girls enjoyed their real relationships in private; in public they preferred to consider themselves cousins.
Niobe nerved herself and started along the line. The first curve went well, but when she hit the reverse curve, Orb got confused and started to lean the wrong way. She corrected herself in a moment, but it was enough to nudge the cycle off the mark. A mine was touched, and a brilliant flash blinded her.
"I can't see!" Niobe cried.
"Neither can I!" Orb screamed.
The motorcycle wavered as she tried to guide it along the course by memory. But she knew it was hopeless; by the time her vision recovered, she would be in the middle of the mines, and thoroughly disqualified. Unless—
"Luna!" she called. "Can you see?"
"Yes," Luna replied. "You're drifting right."
"Direct me!"
Luna was a smart and levelheaded girl. She understood immediately. "Bear left."
Niobe obeyed, maintaining a velocity so the cycle would not waver out of control.
"Now turn right, slowly," Luna called. "A little more—yes. And straight. Coming up is an acute left turn—make it sharp on the mark. Ready—mark!"
Niobe and Orb leaned left, and they made a sharp left turn.
"Now go straight—nudge right—yes—now an S-turn, right then left, not too sharp—more right—now edge left—more—that's it—and right again. Now straight; you're almost there."
Thus did they navigate the field without setting off another mine. Niobe parked the motorcycle, waited a few minutes for her vision to clear, then rode back alone to fetch Luna. "You did a good job there," she told the girl. "Your judgment has preserved our chance to win through." The girl flushed prettily with pleasure.
The second trip across was less eventful; sight and experience made all the difference. They parked the motorcycle and walked down the passage to the next challenge.
This turned out to be a subterranean river, broad and deep, with a wire mesh fence bisecting it lengthwise, barring passage across it. But there was another explanatory plaque. "This is a section of the River Lethe," Niobe read aloud. "One drop in the mouth will cause a person to forget for a moment; one swallow will cause forgetfulness for an hour. Water in eyes will cause the forgetting of the ability to see. Beware lethal monster who patrols at irregular intervals."
"That's funny!" Orb exclaimed. "The lethal monster swims in Lethe!"
"Not funny if it catches you," Luna reminded her.
"We shall have to swim across," Niobe said. "The problem is the barrier in the center—we'll have to dive under it. That means closing the eyes tightly. We'd better do it singly, with the others watching while one dives."
"But—our clothing!" Orb protested.
"You're right. We'll have to leave it here. We don't want to carry the
water of Lethe around with us! Also, wet clothing is no fun."
"But we have no bathing suits!" Luna said.
Niobe looked at her. "Dear, soon enough you will be proud to stand nude for self-portraits. There are occasions when modesty is dispensable. This is one such. We are all family and female, and the Mountain King is asleep. No one will see. I daresay this is part of his challenge: have we the courage to go naked to his lair? Remember, the danger is only illusion; if we gulp the water we will not actually forget, we'll merely disqualify ourselves and have to give up the quest. The real test is modesty." She proceeded to undress, carefully folding her clothing and setting it well clear of the water.
Luna shrugged and followed her example, not unduly sensitive about the matter. After a pause. Orb followed suit, obviously less at ease. They were, at this age, in the process of developing, neither women nor children, and were understandably somewhat reticent about exposure. The Mountain King was giving this party a greater variety of challenge than anticipated.
"Now we can dog-paddle to the barrier," Niobe said. "Right after the monster passes. Who's first?"
Orb shrugged. "I'll try it. Someone yell if the monster turns back." They waited, watching for the lethal monster. In a moment it appeared—a globular mass of jelly that seemed to have forgotten its original form. "Ooh, ugh!" Orb exclaimed.
"It's only illusion," Niobe reminded her firmly. "But don't let it catch you. Now scoot!" She slapped the girl on her bare bottom.
Startled, Orb stepped into the water and dog-paddled across, glancing nervously after the monster. "Remember—no peeking!" Niobe called. "Keep your eyes closed after you come up on the other side, until you're sure the water's clear."
Orb nodded, then took half a breath, squinched her eyes shut, and dived. Her legs went up, then slid under. Both girls were good swimmers; it was only the special nature of this challenge that made the swimming awkward. In a moment she came up on the far side, eyes and mouth still firmly closed, and resumed her dog-paddling—in the wrong direction. She was swimming downstream instead of across.
"You're going wrong!" Niobe called. "Turn about!"
The girl, still sightless, didn't understand. She reversed course, now swimming upstream, making little headway.
"The monster's coming back!" Luna whispered.
"She'll never avoid it!" Niobe said tersely. "I'll go get her clear!" She waded in and stroked as swiftly as she could without splashing. Fortunately the monster was slow; she outdistanced it. She closed her mouth and eyes and dived, finding the bottom of the barrier and hauling herself under. Then she angled for the surface in the direction she hoped Orb was. Her head broke water, dripping—and she didn't dare open her eyes.
"To your left!" Luna called.
Niobe lunged left, and encountered one of Orb's arms.
"But the monster's between you and the shore!" Luna called. "You can't get by it! It's turning toward you!"
"This way!" Niobe ordered Orb. "To the barrier!" She side-stroked back, half-hauling the girl along with her other hand. She found the wire. "Climb up it; you don't need to look!"
Wordlessly, the girl obeyed. Niobe made sure Orb had hold of the wire, then let go of her and used hands and feet to climb up out of the water.
Once clear, she used the back of her hand to wipe out both eyes, then cracked one open. Orb was beside her, climbing blindly up the barrier. The monster was below, trying to find them; its limp tentacles flailed about.
"Up here, idiot!" Niobe told it.
The monster heard and tried to reach out of the water, but its substance was too flabby for support. It could not extend any part of itself beyond the river. After a while it gave up and drifted on downstream.
"Very well," Niobe said. "Orb, clear your eyes and climb down. We'll swim the rest of the way across."
They did so. Then Luna crossed and, with the help of Niobe's called instructions, managed to avoid all hazards. They had surmounted the second challenge.
Naked, they proceeded to the third. This one turned out to be awesome; it was a deep chasm, crossed by a narrow rope bridge. They would have to walk or crawl across it. There was another instruction plaque that said: BEWARE OF THE VAMPIRE BAT.
That needed no clarification. Obviously a bite by that bat would disqualify them—and the bat would attack whoever was on the bridge. But the instructions advised them that one of the magic wands could be used to fend off the bat. Sure enough, there was a rack holding three wands.
One for each of them. How convenient! Or was it coincidence? Niobe didn't quite trust this, but saw no alternative to proceeding. They were two-thirds of the way through; it would be a shame to muff it now.
Orb stared down into the gulf and shuddered. "I don't think I can—"
"Nonsense," Niobe said, though she herself found the depth of the chasm awesome. "Remember—it's illusion. If you lose your balance, you won't get hurt; you'll just be disqualified."
"Oh, yes," she said, brightening. "It's just a flat floor, like the mine caves, and the bridge's a line through it."
"But we'll be careful, anyway," Niobe cautioned them.
"I'll go first," Luna volunteered. She took a wand, held it firmly in her right hand, and stepped out on the bridge. It sank beneath her weight, startling her, but she kept her balance and walked on.
"Ooo, it's swinging!" she exclaimed as she moved over the gulf. Indeed it was, swinging grandly back and forth like a pendulum.
"Compensate!" Niobe called. "You're all right!"
Luna did, and continued across. At midpoint the bat appeared.
The thing was huge and ugly. Bright red eyes stared at the prey. The black wings spread out a good yard. As it approached, the draft from those wings blew Luna's hair back and made her lose confidence.
"Fend it off with the wand!" Niobe called. "Just stand there, keep your balance, and point the wand at it."
Luna tried, but she was now quite nervous. The bat flew at her; she lunged with the wand. The bat sheered away. She lost her balance and started to fall.
"Grab the bridge!" Niobe cried.
The girl dropped the wand and grabbed the bridge with both hands, hugging it. The wand plunged into the chasm, slowing turning in the air, taking a long time to fall. Some illusion!
The bat, seeing the girl helpless, banked and came back.
Niobe charged out onto the bridge. Her long experience with the threads of Fate made her competent; she wasn't worried about missing a step or falling. TShe almost dived at the bat as it came down, jamming the end of the wand into its furry body. There was no resistance; the wand passed through. The bat shrieked almost audibly and lurched away, seemingly hurt.
"Get up, girl," Niobe snapped. "Go on across."
"I can't!" Luna cried. Indeed, she was in tears. She was a sensible girl, but she was, after all, only twelve.
"Then crawl across! I'll protect you."
This the girl could do. She scrambled on hands and knees, while Niobe followed her and watched the bat. The creature tried to come in for another pass, looked at Niobe's militant stance, and stayed clear.
On the far side, Luna was able to stand again. She was all right.
"Your turn, Orb," Niobe called. "Can you make it yourself, or shall I come to help you?"
Orb looked at the swinging bridge, and at the hovering bat. "I—you'd better come."
Niobe walked back, holding off the bat with a mere glance. It had come to know the difference between a frightened girl and an embattled woman. "All right—walk ahead of me. I'll protect your rear. Just focus on Luna over there and keep your balance. It's not hard."
"How can you be so brave?" the girl asked, awed.
"I'm a mother. It comes with the office."
It was an offhand quip, but Orb took it seriously. "Having a child makes you brave?"
"When you have something you would die to protect, it ceases to be a matter of courage," Niobe explained. "You just know what you have to do and you can't afford fear."
/> They moved on across. The bat came at them, and Orb cowered. "Get away!" Niobe screamed at the bat. "Or I'll ram this down your throat, batbrain!"
It spun in the air and fled. Even illusions could be cowed!
"Why is it afraid of you?" Orb asked, amazed.
"Because I wasn't bluffing," Niobe answered. "I would wring its neck if it touched you, and it knows it."
"Oh, Mother!"
"Any parent would do the same. You will, when you are one."
They made it across. Luna shook her head. "You've had to save us each time. Grandma. We'd never have made it alone."
"It's a cooperative effort. But I think you'll have to win your instruments for yourselves."
They walked to the next chapter. There were two cabinets. In one was a paintbrush with a silver handle; in the other was a miniature golden harp.
"This is it," Niobe said. "There are your instruments."
"But—" Luna said. "How do we—?"
Niobe looked around. She saw no instruction plaque. "I think you have to figure that out for yourselves."
Luna shrugged. She stepped up, opened the cabinet doors, and took the brush. She made a pass in the air— and the brush left a smear of yellow hanging there, unsupported.
Surprised, she moved the brush again, marking an X across the smear. Black appeared, a big X in air.
"It makes color from thought!" Luna exclaimed, pleased.
She went to work seriously, erasing the smear and X with deft strokes, then painting a picture of Niobe. Luna, young as she was, was good; it was a remarkably accurate rendition. Niobe had never seen the girl paint so fast and well before. Of course, she wasn't totally thrilled to have herself painted nude at the physical age of thirty-six; she had put on some weight and was no longer the most beautiful woman extant. The stretch marks from birthing Orb didn't help. But she wasn't in a position to protest; she wanted Luna to paint well enough to win the brush. The instrument was obviously ideal.
Then Luna added a gauzy halo of almost colorless paint. "What are you doing?" Niobe asked.
"Painting your aura," Luna replied.
"My—?"
"I can see it, so I'm painting it."