Ennui shrugged. “Havoc is Havoc. He has what he has."
“Bitch! You are mocking me.” He swung his fist at her.
Ennui didn't move. She knew the blow would never land. “Yes, you turd.” It was fun using gutter language where it was warranted.
Surprised, Hoard looked at his hand. “You have magic too! And you know it."
Oops. She shouldn't have given that away. She had been too cocksure, and careless. She stifled any further retort.
“He has magic, when he shouldn't. Powerful magic. He's a Glamor!"
Damn. He was catching on.
“And you're his closest associate—his oath friend. I remember now. You're the one he trusts most. Glamors have ikons. You have his ikon!"
What use to deny it? “I do,” she agreed.
“I know something about ikons. They gather magic and transmit it to their Glamors. You may be a better hostage than his brat baby."
“Doubt."
“Because if we keep you out of your Chroma zone, you can't transmit that power. Better, I'll take his ikon and destroy it. Give it to me."
That was another thing he didn't know. “Take it,” she said, smiling. She held the little tree out to him.
He tried, but his hand sheered away. “Set it down."
“I can't."
He considered. “Probably true. But it doesn't matter.” He approached her, moving slowly. “I'm not hitting you, I'm just taking hold of you.” It worked; his hand closed on her wrist.
Then they were at another place. This was a small square building in a desert region. They entered. Inside it was an empty room. “This is an Air Chroma zone,” Hoard said. “Your ikon is no good here. It won't be long before he runs out of magic. And I still have enough of mine."
Could he be right? Surely not, yet she was apprehensive.
“So all we have to do is wait,” he said smugly.
Ennui reviewed their situation. Ordinarily, if Havoc got weak, one of the other Glamors would come to his rescue. But Gale was overseeing the mission at the south pole, and the other Glamors were maintaining the illusion shield so that Mino had no hope of escape before settling the contest. So there was no one watching out for Havoc; he was on his own.
Except for Ennui herself. She could help him by warning him away. Havoc! she thought. Stay away from me! It's a trap.
A crystal flickered. “You're doing magic!” Hoard said. “My magic tuner's flashing."
She stifled her thought, but it was too late. She had given away yet more information.
“But what magic?” he asked rhetorically. He peered at the crystal. “Telepathy! You're communicating with him."
What was the use? “I warned him away,” she said.
Hoard formed an ugly smile. “Let's see if he can stay away, when you tell him what I'm doing to you.” He caught her by the arm, and his hand did not veer away. “So you're running out of power yourself. You can't resist me any more. So tell Havoc I'm raping you, because it will be true. He interrupted my liaison with my green girl, so he owes me one. You'll certainly do.” He ripped at her clothing.
She tried to fight him off, but he was right: her ikon was running out of power and was no longer shielding her. He stripped her and threw her on the floor. “What a figure! I haven't had a nonChroma shape like that in months. Now tell him."
She lay there, pinned, resisting him in the only way she could: by refusing to call Havoc.
“Tell him,” Hoard repeated. “Or I'll make you hurt. I can do that now."
He thought that would make her capitulate? “Hurt me, you flatulent pig,” she said. She had never been a bold or brave woman, until the ikon protected her; now she was determined to be so on her own.
He dropped his head to her shoulder and bit, hard. The pain was awful. She screamed, and involuntarily let out a mental signal.
Havoc appeared. “Now we finish,” he said.
A crystal appeared in Hoard's hand. Fire danced around Havoc. It didn't affect him. Hoard stood, dropping an expended crystal and summoning another. More fire appeared. Havoc shrugged and stepped away from it. A third crystal appeared, and more fire. Havoc yawned.
Ennui caught on. “He's using up your reserve of magic!” she cried. “I can't send you more; I'm here too. Get out of here, Havoc!"
“And let me torture her to death,” Hoard said. “Your oath friend. I'll make her scream as I rape her, and scream again as I cut her up, bit by bit. You can't stop me if you're not here."
“Go!” Ennui screamed.
Havoc scowled. He took a step toward them—and metal bars dropped from the ceiling. Havoc just managed to step back in time to avoid getting struck. Then he was bathed by fire again, and this time it was evident that he felt it; his magic was being depleted and was almost gone.
“Havoc, go while you can,” Ennui said.
Hoard whirled and struck her. She managed to block it partly with one arm, but the force of the blow knocked her to the floor. She fell with a cry. She wasn't being much of a heroine.
Havoc grabbed the bars and strained, meaning to rip them apart. But they bent only slightly, and more fire drove him back. He had become vulnerable.
Hoard nodded. “You're prisoner. You don't have enough magic left to get out.” He considered. “But you might be faking some, so I think I'll just leave you in there for a while, and you can watch me with this bitch. I want you to suffer before you die."
Ennui's horror was more for Havoc than for herself. She had led him into this trap, and now was unwillingly cooperating with the enemy to make it worse. She tried to fend Hoard off, but he was twice her mass and strength. He bore her down and bared his member, which was ready and eager. The man obviously liked forced sex.
She couldn't look, but felt Havoc's mind as he strained at the bars again, exhausting his last strength. His thoughts faded as he lost not only his magic but his physical resources. She realized that he had sent all he had left to her, to help her fight back. Now he was unconscious.
She was on her own—and she lacked the power to fight off Hoard's brutal brawn. She could not stop him.
She felt something odd as the man jammed her down against the cool stone of the floor. It was a faint tickle against her exposed back. Something was there, a bug, or—
No, it was the tendril of a plant, or a questing root. A bloodsucker, taking advantage of her helplessness? But Havoc was the Glamor of trees and plants, and she had his ikon. No plant had ever hurt her since she took the ikon. What did this mean?
It meant the plants were trying to help her, because it was Havoc's will. The vine was pressing against her back and bottom, spreading out, feeding her energy. It was an Air Chroma plant, but that didn't matter; it was Havoc's creature.
She was gaining energy, but not enough; Hoard still had her pinned, savoring the sight and feel of her body. “Come here, you luscious bitch,” he said, deliberately loud enough for Havoc to hear. “Give me your soft bare breasts. Open wide your firm thighs. Show me your hot wet cleft. I'm going to give you a plumbing like none you've had before."
And she couldn't stop him, let alone throw him off her. She had renewed energy in her torso, thanks to the plant, but not in her arms or legs. All that meant was that she would represent a tighter connection as he forced his way into her.
Then she remembered something. Could she do it? She would have to. The fate of worlds might depend on it, for if Hoard defeated Havoc, Mino would win and everyone else would lose.
She struggled ineffectively as Hoard deliberately oriented his member, nudging her cleft and sliding slowly along it until finding the vulva. Ordinarily she loved such action, being hungry for sex, but not with him. “No, no,” she protested faintly as he pushed in just enough to plug the aperture without going deep. He was savoring every nuance.
“Yes, yes,” he rasped, and thrust forcefully. His member rammed all the way into her, a rough surprise after the prior toying.
And she clamped down on it, internally. Just as A
spect had in the game, and then in reality. Just as she herself had when teasing Throe. It was not the kind of hold a man expected.
“What?” Hoard didn't know what was happening. Good.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hauled it down to her face, but it was no kiss she was trying for. She angled her head and bit him, aiming for the windpipe and jugular vein and clamping down. She got her teeth in his throat angled, off-center, over one buried carotid artery, but had a fair mouthful of his neck. She might be weak, but her vulva and jaws had leverage on extremely sensitive and vulnerable anatomy, and it was easier to hang on once she had the grips. Especially with the strength the plant was providing her.
“Oooo!” he moaned, struggling. But he couldn't free his hips because his member was firmly pinned, and he couldn't draw up his head because that would rip out his throat. Meanwhile his breath was restricted and the exit of blood from his head was being stifled, preventing new blood from entering. She was efficiently breath- and blood-strangling him. She had a literal death grip. She was not going to let it go for anything, no matter how hard he thrashed about. In fact, thrashing should make it worse for him. It shouldn't take too long, if she had the strength. And she did, because the plant remained against her back, sending what it could.
Hoard thrashed, moving her about. Her teeth dug in. Blood leaked from his throat and trickled into her mouth, and his member thrust with something other than sexual urgency. She was conquering him, and that gave her a possessive thrill. She climaxed, drawing her sexual joy from him with the knowledge that he was getting no such satisfaction. She had reversed the rape! Didn't that serve him right!
Belatedly he remembered to use his magic. Suddenly there was an explosion of light and heat around them. It burned the skin of her arms and made her hair frizzle, but she absolutely refused to let go of anything. She was so close to him that he probably couldn't do anything serious to her without hurting himself, and he probably wouldn't be able to make himself do that.
There was a hiss as something reptilian slithered toward her head. She wanted to flee it, but maintained iron control; it might bite her to death, but not before she bit Hoard to death.
Water surged up around her body and head, threatening to drown her. She reminded herself that it could be illusion, in which case it wouldn't really smother her. If it was real, it would get him too, because she was holding his face down as low as hers, beside her head. Regardless, she refused to let go. This was her last chance to be a heroine and she wasn't going to waste it. She hung on, determined to die in style. To take him with her.
Bright little stars and planets appeared, whirling around her head. The chamber seemed to spin like a whirlpool, curling down into some awful abyss. Void—they were spiraling into the stellar black hole! Utter doom. Still she clung.
She held him while his efforts waned. She was not going to make the mistake of underestimating him. His strength was ebbing but wasn't gone. She clung to her two desperate grips. She would hold him for eternity, if that's what it took. She was tasting blood, literally. Like a she-wolf she was slowly killing her prey. It was gloriously horrible. All around her was blackness, but she would not quit.
Ennui.
That was Havoc's thought. She couldn't answer physically, because that would let go of the man's throat, but she sent a thought. Courage, Havoc! I'm not giving up.
Ennui, he's dead. You can let go now.
She realized it was true. Hoard's weight was heavy on her, and he was no longer breathing. She relaxed at last in both places, and managed to roll the man off her. His eyes were bulging and bloodshot, his mouth open in agonized horror. She had, to use an expression she would never speak aloud, fucked him to death.
She stood unsteadily and walked to the bars. They remained tight; they were real, not magical. Havoc lay on the floor; he evidently lacked the strength to sit up, but at least he was conscious now. She reached through to touch him, and felt some of the plant's strength pass from her to him. “How can I help you get out?” she asked.
He smiled feebly. “Observation: you are free of the ikon."
She looked back. There on the floor where she had lain was the little tree. It had fallen away from her sometime during the struggle, when all its power was gone. She had killed Hoard by herself, with no magic except what the plant provided. Maybe he hadn't been prepared to counter that kind of attack.
“Agreement,” she said faintly. Now they knew how to divest themselves of the ikons; it should work for Aspect too, surely in less difficult circumstances.
“Do not take it back. Fetch it with a net and take it to a nonChroma zone."
Of course! She made a sling of cloth from her torn skirt and used a shoe to push the ikon in without directly touching it. Then she donned her tattered clothing and made ready to depart. “I'll just keep walking until I come to the edge of the Chroma zone,” she said. “There should be nonChroma there. I'll hide it there and return for you."
“Set it there and wait,” he said. “I should have power quickly, once it's transmitting. I'll come for you, and will carry you and it back to Triumph City. Then we'll rejoin the others, without the ikon. They should be glad to see us."
“Agreement."
“I love you."
She laughed, knowing what he meant. “Just don't try to have sex with me."
He laughed too, somewhat weakly. “I was reluctant to oath you in friendship. Now I know it was my best move ever."
“Ditto."
She opened the door and stepped outside. The landscape was bare; this was an isolated cell in an isolated Air Chroma zone, surely a small one. All she had to do was walk. She was tired and battered, her clothing was in wet rags, her skin was blistering, her hair was a frizzed mess, she had been raped, she had just killed a man with crotch and teeth, she would soon enough lose her seeming youth and sex appeal, but she was buoyant. Maybe it was an exaggeration, but she felt as if she had just saved two worlds and redeemed her formerly meaningless life.
* * * *
Voila felt the relief as the path aligned. Now it was clear, and she had the victory.
Capitulation, Mino agreed. The future is yours.
She was glad, because she didn't want her family to be unhappy. It had been a struggle, because she had known she couldn't share her secret with anyone. She had had to do it herself, and she lacked the mind to be competent.
But now it was done, and she could share. But first she had to sleep. She was horribly tired.
She woke when she felt Havoc near. He hugged Gale, then the children, then queried Voila: How?
She answered, letting him read her mind. She shared their thoughts as he told Gale and the others.
“She couldn't see to the ends of the paths,” Havoc said. “So it seemed she had to choose blind, and all but one led to victory for Mino. So he expected to win. But it wasn't sure until she chose, so he had to wait. She had a secret, and used it to find that one path."
“Which was Hoard,” Ennui said. She was in newly conjured clothing and healing balm, and there was horror in her mind, but also the joy of redemption. “He had to be eliminated, so he couldn't team up with Mino and betray the planet."
“But we thought it was positive, one of our number,” Gale said. “How did she know it wasn't?"
“She has a quality the machine lacks,” Havoc said. “She's alive, conscious, and feeling, and therefore creative. Mino is programmed, without emotion; he must follow his set course. So she had options he didn't."
“But he could see the ultimate end to any path she chose. She couldn't. So she had no option but guessing—with the odds against getting it right."
“That's the logical analysis,” he agreed. “But she found a way, by following the path that led to the way to choose the right path."
“Confusion."
It was shared by the others; Voila felt it in their minds. None of them had figured it out.
Now her siblings peeked. “I got it!” Warp exclaimed. “Sh
e did to him what she does to us!"
“The little sneak!” Flame said indignantly.
Weft nodded wisely. “Mino should have known better than to mess with her. She knows what's what."
“So what is what?” Gale asked patiently.
“She looked down each path just far enough,” Havoc said.
“But she couldn't see the end of it,” Gale said. “Only Mino could do that, and he wasn't telling until it was fixed."
“She didn't need to see the end,” Havoc said. “It's like the old story about the two men chased by a bear: neither could outrun it, but one realized that he didn't need to; the only one he needed to outrun was his companion."
Gale's patience was fraying. “Relevance?"
“Revelation!” Ini said. “She didn't need to see the end of the path, she just needed to see Mino!"
Voila felt her understanding. Ini was smart. She was making sense of what Voila had done the only way she could: by searching until she found what worked.
“Confirmation,” Havoc said. “She followed each path until it intersected Mino, and saw how Mino reacted. She couldn't see the end, but he could, and he knew whether it represented victory or defeat for him. He claimed victory or capitulated accordingly. She searched for the path where he knew he lost. That was the one."
Now Gale understood. “Mino defeated himself! In the near future—because she thought to look at him instead of the end of the path."
“She outran her companion,” Ini agreed. “And the bear got him."
“Then all we had to do was secure that path,” Havoc said. “Which Ennui did."
“I had to,” Ennui said. “You were lying down on the job."
They all laughed, knowing from their minds what had happened. Havoc had been unconscious, his magic exhausted. It hadn't mattered who killed Hoard, just so long as it was done. Ennui had done it, at great peril to herself.
Voila napped again. When she woke, Mino had been reprogrammed, and was now really their friend. She linked minds with him, as she had before, and his analysis greatly facilitated her understanding. The adults were checking the remaining reaches of the caves, verifying the powers of magic they facilitated.