Key to Destiny

  While he stood bemused, she disengaged, returned to Aspect, recovered her ikon, then took Aspect's ikon. Aspect came to him, took him in her arms, and kissed him similarly. She too smote him with her ardor.

  These women were signaling their interest in changing the nature of their relationships with him. He would have to consider it, though there was considerable emotional resistance. He and Gale were after all responsible for their change, having given them the ikons.

  Thereafter Ennui and Aspect went on their mission, relieving him of that particular quandary, and Havoc followed up on their suggestions, after checking with Gale and Symbol. Neither objected, knowing that such things were expected of kings, that Ini would appreciate it, and that it meant he would not reveal his Glamor nature to the other woman. “But take Swale along to Limbo,” Symbol said wisely.

  “You trust the succubus more than me?"

  The two exchanged a glance. “Of course we do,” Gale said, laughing.

  “She's female,” Symbol agreed. “She doesn't think with her gonads."

  Havoc wasn't sure about that, after the demonstrations the other two women had just made.

  The succubus hovered near, touching his mind. I can turn sex off, too, you know.

  He hadn't known. That could be useful. “Agreement: Swale accompanies me to Limbo."

  Chief knew of Limbo, and guided him there. It was on an island in a boiling lake some distance from Triumph City. It was reached by specially insulated boats whose boatsmen had strict orders to transport no one away from it, on penalty of being confined there themselves. Havoc entered it alone, as Hayseed the Minstrel.

  You could have a ball here, Sire, and no one would know, Swale thought teasingly. She could not occupy his body, but she hovered beside him, and he could intersect her spirit by moving slightly, maintaining contact. She was actually good company, in part because her interest in sex was as keen as his and she never disparaged it. There were no sexual fantasies he could have that were beyond her compass.

  Agreement.

  And having a ball, anonymously, was one such. “Especially if you occupied any balky maiden,” he agreed.

  Affirmation.

  Limbo was actually a pleasant enough place. The boiling lake warmed it so that it was never cold, and many exotic trees and plants grew there; he had to stop himself from examining them, lest his interest be suspicious. It was supervised by a former official of Triumph who had inadvertently caused King Deal embarrassment and had to be banished for political reason. He had become a minor monarch in his own right, and governed fairly. It was really a village economy, quite peaceful. There was no requirement for marriage or four children here; in fact most of the younger women wore the wire, not wishing to bring children into perpetual isolation from the main human society.

  Swale floated ahead, scouting, returning to guide him to the single tavern on the island, where his quarry was to be found. He entered, finding a few men and women there. They glanced his way, recognizing him as a new resident, but made no issue; minding one's own business was evidently the custom here. Surely everyone knew everyone; it was not a large community. Probably the process of getting to know a new resident was savored as ongoing entertainment, stretched out.

  Futility remained beautiful, with her trim figure and lustrous red hair, and was employed as a dancer and serving wench at the tavern. That was probably all that offered that wasn't farming drudgery or boring labor. He entered the establishment and sat at a table.

  She came to it, as she was bound to; he was a patron. She flashed an artificial smile. “Welcome to Limbo, stranger. What'll you have?"

  “A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou."

  She has no interest.

  “Bread and wine are on the house, this first time. Me you'll have to earn.” She moved away gracefully, returning soon with the goods.

  “Join me,” he said.

  “Unlikely."

  Shall I touch her?

  Just enough, he replied mentally.

  “Until another patron comes.” Futility sat down opposite him.

  “Introduction: I am Hayseed the Minstrel. I am hot blooded."

  “They call me the Ice Maiden. I am cold blooded."

  “You look more like Futility to me."

  She glanced at him sharply. “I have not used that name here. Where do you know me from?"

  “The acid contest."

  Now she surveyed him carefully. “The barbarian! Wreckage. No that's not quite it. Destruction."

  “Havoc."

  “That's it. You and that motley older woman. So she must've won, if you're here. Funny about the delay, though."

  “I won, and took her with me."

  “Interest. What was the prize?"

  “The crown."

  She laughed, not pleasantly. “And here you are, rendered forever anonymous. Try again, barbarian."

  Havoc shrugged. He still didn't like this woman, but that was why he sought her. “Do you still carry the stiletto?"

  “Are you still fast enough to intercept it?"

  Havoc merely gazed at her. She made a tiny feint with her right hand, but he did not react. Then her hand flashed for her hair—and his hand shot out and caught her wrist before it got there. He held it just a moment, then let it go. “Perhaps."

  She dropped her hand, nodding. “You're him, all right. But if you want to clasp me, you'll have to tell me the truth. What did the woman win, and why did you let her?"

  “She is now the personal secretary to the king, and my oath friend."

  “And you're the king,” she said derisively.

  “Agreement."

  “So why'd you come here?"

  “I remembered you."

  She sighed. “Well, I gave you your chance.” She stood.

  “I offered you a liaison once. You declined. I made it instead with Ennui."

  She paused. “That was my mistake."

  “Agreement."

  “That was humor. Parting.” She turned to leave.

  Touch her.

  A harder nudge this time, Sire. In fact I'll assume temporary occupancy. Swale was enjoying this. It had been long since she had infiltrated a hostile woman.

  But do not let her know.

  Awww.

  Futility grimaced. “Oh, hell, there's nothing to gain, nothing to lose. We're all stuck here for eternity, and you're a handsome hunk of a man. Very well, barbarian, this way."

  She led him to a small chamber in back that was evidently hers. She stepped lithely out of her clothing and stood before him, strikingly nude. Swale had truly turned her on, an unusual state for such a cold woman.

  “The stiletto too,” Havoc said as he stripped.

  “Negation. That never leaves me."

  “I could take it from you."

  “You'll have to."

  He caught her by one arm, twisted, and forced her face-down on the bed. He poked his fingers into her hair just above the neck and lifted out the little dagger. He set it aside. He released her arm.

  She turned in place, serpent-like. “That's the one thing I like about you: you're man enough to take me if you want me."

  But without the succubus, she would have been coldly furious. Her fury had been translated to passion.

  Then they were in furious sex. Her legs wrapped around him as she hooked her hands behind his head and hauled him in for a savage kiss. Her internal muscles clasped him as he penetrated her, urging him to a convulsive climax.

  Havoc still didn't like her, but that was one fine sex experience. She would do for a mistress, at least when assisted by the sexual spirit.

  “You have done your part,” he said as they broke. “Now I will do mine. Collect your things and come with me."

  “I have no things worth collecting.” She returned to her clothing, dressing as he did. “Not that we're going anywhere. To Limbo is a one way trip. Didn't you know?"

  “Except for the king."

  “Yeah, sure.” But she accompanie
d him, perhaps playing out the game. Swale was also guiding her, keeping her interested in the possibility of another sexual encounter.

  He led her out of the tavern and to the arrival wharf. There was Throe. He inclined his head. “Sire."

  “This is Futility. She will take the Lady Aspect's place for the interim."

  “Lady Futility,” Throe agreed. He turned and signaled the boatman.

  “Yeah, sure,” Futility repeated. “Joke's about played out."

  The boat came in. “Sire,” the boatman said.

  Havoc conducted the woman onto the boat. He and Throe took their seats. The boat moved out.

  Futility faced Havoc. “Disbelief."

  They crossed the boiling lake and tied up at the outside wharf. Beyond it a carriage waited, drawn by two horses. Havoc escorted her to it. Throe got up on front with the coachman. They started moving.

  “Dream,” Futility said.

  Havoc shrugged.

  The coach took them to the edge of a blue Chroma zone. They got out and walked to a huge basket. “Sire,” the blue man said. They got in. Huge blue birds came, and the blue man slipped big loops over their feet. They took off together, carrying the basket into the sky.

  Now Havoc doffed his minstrel hat, fetched the crown from under the seat and put it on his head.

  Futility stared. Swale nudged her with belief. Then she faced Havoc and bowed her head. “Apology, Sire."

  “Needless. When we reach Triumph City, you will be confined to the palace. You will not contact anyone you knew before, or betray my interests in any way, on pain of being returned to Limbo."

  “Understood,” she breathed.

  “You will answer to the Lady Symbol, who is my mistress, and the Lady Gale, who is my wife. When I come to you, you will never deny me in body or manner."

  “Of course, Sire."

  “You will arrange my formal social schedule. There will be helpers to advise you. You will be the ice maiden to all outsiders, barring my caution otherwise."

  “Sire,” she agreed.

  And so it was. Futility actually turned out to be competent, because her self-interested mind was like a metal trap, and she knew she owed everything and more to the king. He did take her sexually every so often, so that she remained persuaded that this private letch was his reason for rescuing her from Limbo. Swale did not need to touch her again; she was quite capable of the pretense of interest, and the pretense was all Havoc wanted. Later she asked, and was granted, the right to entertain palace guests by dancing as the anonymous Ice Maiden. She was good at it, and on occasion became the no fault bed partner of some Chroma male dignitary who was taken with her appearance. She did this as a service to the king, normally having no interest in sex for its own sake, and was rewarded with significantly greater freedom. She and Havoc were honest with each other: they were not friends, but he was the king and she was competent in her position, beautiful, and talented in the dance, and so they had use for each other.

  Ini was another matter. Gale had made a deal with her family to bring her to Triumph City in the hope of improved marriage prospects, and she was proving to be useful and reliable. She was the smartest person he knew, but rather plain physically, to the extent her invisibility allowed it to be known. That was a double liability for advantageous marriage, but worthwhile for Havoc's purpose. Aspect was right: close association with him would cause the girl to be smitten, and it would be unkind not to oblige her. But he really wished she were more shapely.

  “As you know, we anticipate travel to Counter Charm,” he said. “Your knowledge of the surface of that planet makes you a likely member of the party. I, or another Glamor, will carry you there. But first I must be sure it is possible."

  “I could give the altar ikon to someone else, so as to be more transportable,” she said.

  “Negation. We may have to transport the loom, or at least the tapestry, and they are ikonic. I need to learn how to do it. I propose to practice with you."

  “I am at your service, of course, Sire."

  “We will travel extensively across Charm. No fault."

  “As you wish, Sire."

  “Call me Havoc. Reconsideration: call me Hayseed. I prefer to be anonymous."

  “Then I will be Ni. Candor?"

  “Granted."

  “I suspect you proffer no fault in the belief that I would like to clasp the king. I would, as any girl would. But I am aware of my limitations of body, and do not wish to cause you discomfort. The delight of discovery of new things is my passion, and I have already been well rewarded there. So there is no need to clasp me."

  Ennui and Aspect had addressed this point. “The ikon charges you sexually."

  “Agreed, Sire. I was not sexually hungry before, but my interest in men is now akin to men's interest in attractive women. However—"

  “You are surely more physically attractive than you were. I have seen the change in the Ladies Ennui and Aspect."

  “They are rare women."

  “It is difficult for a mortal person to knowingly clasp a Glamor, and difficult for a Glamor to clasp a mortal with an ikon. This may relate to the problem of transporting such a person. Therefore it may behoove us to tackle these problems also."

  The shrouded woman considered. “It is a challenge I would delight in tackling, Sire. Still—"

  Havoc remembered something. “Swale was with you when you sought the altar."

  The figure nodded. “Swale can make me compelling. If you wish—"

  “Do you wish?"

  “Negation, Sire. What the succubus offers is effective but artificial. I wish I were lovely, but I orient on reality, and accommodate to it."

  She was determined not to require him to clasp her if he didn't want to. He did not argue the case further. He had other business to attend to, so set a future date for their first attempt at distance traveling. He might indeed call on Swale for assistance, if sex turned out to be warranted.

  When that time came, Ini was ready, and had a suggestion. “Such an effort is bound to be observed sometimes, as there may be people where we arrive. If I remove my clothing I will be invisible, concealing the fact that I am with you. This could simplify the mission."

  He liked the notion, but saw a problem. “It may be cold in some regions."

  “The ikon keeps me warm. I will not suffer."

  “Does the ikon show?"

  “Negation. It has adapted to the host, and is invisible."

  “Agreement. Travel invisible."

  The clothing fell away, and only her mental presence was evident before him. He stepped to her and put his arms around her—and stopped. The ikon was resisting. “Problem."

  “I will hold it away from us.” He felt her slight motion; then it became possible to hold her closely to his body. But he felt the continuing resistance of the ikon, diminished with the distance.

  “I will try to move you across this room,” he said.

  “Acquiescence."

  He jumped magically across the room. It worked, but he felt the drag. It was as though she weighed much more, because of the ikon. He concentrated, and jumped again, doing better. Then he jumped to his own chamber.

  There was Gale, nursing Weft. The baby girl was seven months old, and quite aware of herself and her surroundings. She stopped nursing immediately. Her eyes focused on something in front of Havoc.

  “She sees the altar ikon,” Ini said, surprised.

  “Hold on to it,” Gale said. She perceived Ini the same way Havoc did, by her mental presence. “She conjures."

  “I feel the tug."

  “Ini has to hold it out so I can hold her close enough to move,” Havoc explained.

  “And that's why she's naked?"

  “To be invisible."

  Gale laughed. “Obvious, so to speak. Now get out of here so Weft will finish her meal. You're too much of a distraction for her."

  Because he took the baby's attention whenever he could, so that Gale could tend to Warp effect
ively. Weft had a possessive nature, yet was cute, and she behaved well when with him. But she did need to nurse.

  Havoc moved them back to the original chamber. “Not every man's wife would be so tolerant of his bringing a naked women to their bedroom."

  “Gale is perfect."

  “Envy. But what if you had brought Futility?"

  “Gale knows that Futility is only business."

  “Apology for teasing, Sire."

  “Needless. Are you ready for greater distance?"

  “Ready."

  He traveled to Limbo, landing near the wharf, and let her go. No one was there, because it was used only when new exiles were brought in. That was the way he preferred it. He wondered how the denizens had reacted when the stranger had vanished with the Ice Maiden. Not that it mattered.

  “Where?” Ini asked, looking around as he turned her loose.

  “Limbo."

  “Ignorance."

  He explained about the island.

  “Interest. I never knew of it."

  “Neither did I, until very recently. It's where I fetched Futility."

  “You should have set up this practice with her."

  “Negation. I don't like her. I like you."

  “Joke?” she asked as he took hold of her again, preparing for the return jump.

  “Serious. She's lithe and beautiful, but cold, calculating, and dishonest. She won't betray me because there is nothing to be gained by alienating the king, but our association is mutual convenience, no more. You are not pretty, but you are smart, reliable, and you mean well. You could be my friend."

  He felt her invisible jaw drop. She had no rejoinder.

  He jumped them back to the chamber in the palace. He was gaining confidence with practice. “Enough?"

  “Question?"

  “We have traveled to a distant place and back. Is this enough for the day? I do not wish to strain you."

  “Apology. I was distracted by what you said before. Negation; I am enjoying this, and the ikon provides me stamina. I would relish more."

  “Then I am minded to try a jump to an unfamiliar spot. That may be chancy. My Glamor power prevents me from hurting myself by overlapping a tree or rock, but we could land in a public place. I might have to put you down, to use my hands. There could be embarrassment."