Lilah, wary of the impending interview with Nox, insisted on making love by day. Parry wasn't sure whether this was her effort to deplete his interest in the Incarnation of Night, or from concern that this might be the last time. He had no intention of straying, but his curiosity was increasing.
Of course, he had no intention of straying from Jolie, either. He still loved the memory of Jolie, but she was gone, and he was now too far corrupted by evil to be worthy of her, so that was done. But if he ever found a way to free her from the drop of blood and allow her to proceed to Heaven, he would do it gladly. Certainly he would not let her be confined to Hell!
Nox lived in Purgatory, where it seemed most of the Incarnations resided. In fact. Parry himself had a residence there, a palatial structure served by unassigned servants: those who were in such balance at death that they had gone neither to Heaven nor to Hell. The surprise with which his arrival was greeted showed that the Incarnation of Evil had seldom stopped by. Indeed, he did not stay long; he moved on to the realm of Nox.
This turned out to be a region of everlasting night. Not a dark cloud, for there was no smoke or fog; a section in which the light faded and the stars shone down, no matter what the time of day. The residence was like a ghostly nebula, a segment of the great Milky Way, glowing yet indeterminate.
Lilah guided him on in with confidence. Inside, they seemed to be floating through the heavens, becoming ghosts themselves.
"A greeting" It was neither voice nor thought, but rather like a memory from a dream.
"Nox, I embrace you," Lilah said, spreading her arms.
Indeed, she seemed to be in contact with something, but Parry could not tell what.
"What is thy business, mine ancient sister?"
Parry started. Sister?
"This is Parry, who just assumed the Office of Evil," Lilah explained. "He does not yet understand."
The darkness intensified, becoming opaque. Now the form of a lovely woman in a cloak stood before him. Her eyes were stars, twinkling as they gazed on him. "You feel for him, Lil?"
"I do. He comes to ask a favor."
The woman-shape opened her cloak and moved into him. Parry found himself embraced by something at once too diffuse and subtle to comprehend, and unutterably feminine. Something like a kiss caressed his mouth, and something like breasts touched his chest, and things very like seductive legs came up against his as though he wore no clothing. The femaleness of her overwhelmed him, making him react, inciting his desire; suddenly there was no other thing he wanted to do, now or ever, except embrace her as intimately as was inhumanly possible. His mission here had no meaning; there was only Nox, the Goddess of Night. He had never known a woman like her, neither mortal nor immortal; she was all he could ever dream of, the ultimate fulfillment.
Then she withdrew, leaving him longing, desperate with desire for her. He wanted to cry out to her, and could not; he wanted to reach out for her, and could not. She was ineffable, a thing that came only at her own behest, never his, and infinitely desirable because of it.
"I leave him to you, my sister" Nox sent. "He is special"
"I thank you, my sister," Lilah said, visibly relieved.
Slowly Parry relaxed, as the sensation of the presence left him. He became conscious of his mission.
"We speak figuratively," Lilah said to him. "She is the oldest Incarnation; I am the oldest female creature. But she is a goddess, and I only a demoness. We are sisters in age and sex, not substance."
Parry only nodded, not yet ready to speak. A goddess! No wonder he had been overwhelmed!
"He needs the spell to banish demons," Lilah said.
"Surely he does... I do not have it."
Disappointment. Parry could not be certain whether his anguish was because she could not help him, or because he would now have to leave her presence.
"Perhaps Chronos."
"We thank you, Nox," Lilah said. "We shall ask him first."
"Last."
Lilah smiled. "Of course. That's what I meant."
They moved out of the darkness, departing the intoxicating presence. "She let you go!" Lilah breathed, as if amazed.
Parry didn't want to say that he would have preferred to have been kept by the goddess. But Lilah knew it. "She has that effect on men," she said. "It will wear off, in time. You can now appreciate why I was worried."
"The allure of the night," Parry said, speaking at last.
"All the things your kind longs for in the secrecy of darkness," she agreed. "No mortal or demon woman can match that."
He could only sigh acquiescence. It would be a long time before he forgot that sensation!
"Now we have to ask the Incarnations, who will laugh."
"Why ask them at all, then? If Chronos is the one—"
"Because we must tell him he is our last resort. If you succeed in holding the Office, your friendship with him should count for something. Chronos is not like the others."
"I don't understand."
"Chronos lives backwards."
"I don't see how—"
"Come on," she said impatiently. "We might as well tackle Thanatos first."
"Thanatos—Death!" he exclaimed. "I met him, long ago!"
"Not since I have known you."
"It was when Jolie died, over forty years ago. She was in balance, because of the evil associated with her manner of dying, though she had lived a righteous life. I must ask him about that."
"Ask," she agreed.
He saw that they were at Death's Mansion. He knocked at the imposing door, and a sepulchral gong sounded within. In a moment a servant opened it.
"I am the Incarnation of Evil, come to seek information of the Incarnation of Death," Parry said.
The servant closed the door in his face.
Parry stood there, outraged. "Since when does one Incarnation refuse even to talk to another?" he demanded rhetorically.
"Since the other Incarnation is Evil," Lilah answered with a wry smile.
"He wasn't this way forty years ago!"
"You were not Evil forty years ago."
Parry grimaced. "Still, the least he could do is talk to me. I am simply trying to find a way to do my job."
"All the others side with God."
Disgruntled, Parry departed. "I will not forget this snub," he muttered.
They followed a twisted path that led shortly to the abode of Fate. It resembled a giant spider web. "Fate assumes the form of a spider, and slides her threads to her destination," Lilah explained.
But Fate, too, refused even to meet him. Parry's mood darkened further.
They approached the Castle of War. This time the Incarnation himself came out to meet him. He was a crusader. "Begone, foul fiend!" War cried, brandishing his great red sword. "Ere I cut off thy hideous head!"
"I only want to ask—" Parry had to duck, for already the sword was swishing at his neck. So much for talk!
"These idiots are really asking for it!" he said as they departed. "I have come in peace, but—"
"What do you expect, from the Incarnation of War?" Lilah asked.
At that he had to smile. "Still, it ill behooves such powerful entities to operate with their minds closed," he said. "Even countries at war negotiate on occasion with their enemies. Otherwise there is chaos."
"Crusaders have never been known for their common sense."
At that he had to laugh. "True words, demoness!" Now they approached the treelike residence of Nature, perhaps the strongest of the regular Incarnations.
There was no door, just a thicket of brambles. He tried to make his way through it, but the prickles and thorns and nettles seemed to orient eagerly on his flesh. He might be immortal now; indeed, he had forgotten to eat since his ascension, without suffering any hunger or loss of vigor. But he felt exactly as he had in life, and the pain was just as uncomfortable. He surely could plow through this barrier, and the only harm done would be the immediate pain—but to what point? There had to be a legitimate entrance.
"It is her way," Lilah murmured. "The secrets of Nature are not readily discovered, but they are generally worthwhile."
"I shall play it her way, this time," Parry said. But privately he expected little; this was merely a gesture of amity, his straightforward effort to make contact with the other Incarnations. So far they had not even done him the courtesy of listening to his plea. In short, they were keeping him at arm's length, evidently hoping he would wash out.
They walked around the brambly region, seeking a path through. They came to a filthy sty where a huge sow wallowed. Beyond it the brambles grew up even worse, becoming truly impenetrable. This was a dead end.
The pig raised her snout. "Looking for something?" she inquired.
Gaea's sense of humor, evidently. But he replied with a straight face. "I am looking for an entrance to Gaea's estate, so that I may talk with her."
"Kiss my snout," the pig said.
Only his determination to maintain control of his temper kept Parry from showing his anger at being addressed in such manner by a pig. He turned away.
"And I will show you the way in," the pig concluded. He glanced at Lilah, and caught a fleeting smirk on her face.
Of course he was not going to kiss a pig! But if that was what Gaea believed... why not call her bluff. Parry set himself, then leaned over the rail. The sow raised her head. Her nose was smeared with mud and garbage from her last meal. He stifled his rising gorge and kissed her snout. "That way," the pig said, indicating a huge hole she had dug under the fence at the far side of the sty. It was so deep that its recesses were lost in darkness.
Parry climbed over the fence, slogged through the muck and got down on his hands and knees. He crawled into the hole. Lilah shrugged and followed. She had surely experienced worse than a little muck in the course of her centuries of service to the Incarnations of Evil. The hole descended, but was not totally dark. He could see the circular cross section of it, and the route ahead. Tree roots braced the top and sides; fish heads and wilted carrot tops lay at the bottom. He had no clearance, so plowed through it all.
The smell was intense.
The garbage at the bottom thickened. Now it was a virtual pool, containing oyster shells, moldy bread crusts, cheese rinds, spoiled wine, chicken legs and rotten tubers. "You mortals are messy folk," Lilah muttered behind him.
On it went, getting worse. The liquid appeared to have become urine, and feces floated in it. Lumps of brownish substance hobbled, perhaps blood clots. Sections seemed mostly like vomit. His hand, questing for a firm bottom, found something solid but loose. He brought it up—and it was a severed human foot.
But he plowed on, determined not to be defeated by Gaea's evident discouragements. Just about the time the sewer threatened to fill the passage, it debouched into a nether river, and he was able to stand in a gloomy cavern. They had made it through.
Both of them were sopping and stinking; their clothing dripped. Parry knew he could clean himself magically, but was too ornery to do it yet; he wanted to be sure he had completed the wretched course first.
A path showed the way on. They followed it—until it halted in a cul-de-sac. A blind cave.
No, this cave was artificial. There were ridges in the stone showing where the rock had been hewn away. It should not have been carved, unless there was a continuation.
"Very well." Parry said loudly. "What next?"
"I have seen this sort of thing before," Lilah said. "It probably requires a spell to open the rest."
Parry tried a spell, but knew immediately that it wasn't working; his magic was being damped out. It was evident that each Incarnation was supreme in his or her own bailiwick; others could not use magic without the proprietor's consent.
"Maybe if you just asked," Lilah said.
"I am the Incarnation of Evil," he said. "I ask to proceed on through this passage, so that I may talk to the Incarnation of Nature."
There was no response.
"Gaea is evidently trying to humiliate you," Lilah said. "Maybe she requires an obsequious request."
Parry gritted his teeth. "This is the Incarnation of Evil. I ask to be admitted to Gaea's presence."
Still no response.
"I beg to be admitted," Parry said.
Silence.
His jaw clenched. "I am the Lord of Feces, the lowest of the low, humbly begging the indulgence of my betters," he said.
The stone slid aside. Gaea was satisfied.
But not quite. "No person may be admitted to the presence without a search for weapons or hostile substances," a voice said from a curtained alcove.
"A body search?" Parry asked, outraged. Then he realized that Gaea was getting to him. He had come this far; he might as well do the rest.
He entered the curtained alcove. It was completely dark within. Hands touched him, catching at his clothing, removing it. Parry submitted to this, knowing that weapons could most readily be concealed in clothing. Then the hands slid down his body, checking every part of it. Then—
He jumped. "What—?"
"A weapon may be concealed in a body cavity," the voice said. "Bend over."
Quivering with rage at this demand, Parry bent over. A rough finger poked into him, questing for the weapon Gaea had to know wasn't there.
Abruptly there was light. For a moment it blinded him. Then he heard laughter.
He gazed around, blinking. He was in a glass compartment.
Outside it were standing the other Incarnations: Death, Fate, War and Nature. All were staring at him with broad smiles.
He was naked, bent over, with that crudely exploring hand still violating his body. He looked back—and saw that it was an ape. He had been demeaned by an animal, in full view of the Incarnations. What a joke they had, at his expense!
Still he controlled his rage. Now was not the occasion to make a scene that would only make the joke richer.
He straightened and stepped away from the ape with what dignity he could muster. "Now will you talk to me, Gaea?"
"No," she replied. The light ceased, and he was left as he was.
Lilah came to him. "I was afraid of something like this," she murmured. "All the Incarnations of Evil learned early not to try to cooperate with the others."
"Let's just make our way out of here," he said with surprising calmness. He led the way back through the gruesome tunnel.
The Incarnations had their fun with him, instead of meeting him honorably. This was their day. But they would pay for it. Oh, yes, they would pay!
It was another two days before he went to tackle Chronos. Lilah took him to her nest in the tree, because he wanted nothing to do with Purgatory now. He had come to understand all too well why Lucifer had ignored the Mansion of Evil there. He was better off in Hell, where he belonged.
Except that he had not yet proven his ability to control it. The Incarnations, actually, had not treated him worse than Asmodeus had. They were all against him.
"Except me," Lilah said, divining his thoughts. "I am absolutely loyal to You, my Lord, and will always be, until You cast me off."
"I will never cast you off," he said, embracing her. Demoness she might be, but she seemed better than the mortal Incarnations now.
"Oh, You will, my Lord, eventually. It always happens.
But it can be close while it lasts."
"It will last for centuries!" he said passionately. "It can—if it lasts out the month," she agreed. Sound point. He made love to her, seeking that intimacy no mortal woman could give him anymore, and tried to allay his own doubt about his chances of success.
Chronos' mansion was less pretentious than some, but it had its weird aspect, Lilah warned him. "It goes backwards, as does his life," she explained. "You will emerge from it before you enter it. Never forget that, lest there be paradox."
"Before I enter it? That's impossible!"
"Believe it, my Lord! Make allowance, lest you interfere with yourself."
"Lilah, I know this is not the normal mortal realm. But nothing will make me believe that—"
He broke off, for there, emerging from the door of the mansion, was himself, trailed by a duplicate demoness of stunning proportions.
The other Parry waved, and so did the other Lilah. Stunned, Parry waved back. Then the other two turned aside, and disappeared down an alternate path.
"As you were saying..." Lilah said, a trifle smugly.
"Illusion," he decided. But he did not take a step toward the door.
"It is really not complicated," she assured him. "When you share his backward travel, you come out earlier. When he is outside his mansion, he has to reverse himself in order to interact with others. He remembers what is in our future, and has not yet experienced what is in our past. It must be hard for him. On occasion, centuries ago, I—"
"You have been with him, too?" Parry asked, dismayed.
"My Lord, I have been with every man worth being with, and quite a number otherwise. When my masters tired of me, I would stray, for I have needs unlike those of real women. I have never deceived You in this, or in anything. I am Yours now, and for as long as You desire me."
"Sorry, Lilah. My mortal instincts keep getting the better of me. But if you have—with this man—"
"Once with this one, not long ago. He was especially lonely, and it seemed to be important to him, and my Lord Lucifer was having his fling with—well, never mind. Once I came to love you, I have been true to you, my Lord. In the past I have been with a prior officeholder, this one's successor. With several successors, actually. Chronos is a lonely Incarnation; it is almost impossible for him to have a meaningful relationship with a normal woman."
"But if you have always served Evil—"
"Good and Evil are not invariable antagonists. They are merely opposite poles of a spread of states. The one cannot exist without the other. All Incarnations are the enemy of Chaos, Nox's sire, and when cooperation is required to prevent Chaos's return, Incarnations cooperate. It is not to Your interest to quarrel with Chronos; remember, he could change your past life with barely an effort."
"I have not sought to quarrel with any of the Incarnations!" he exclaimed. "But they have quarreled with me! Except for Nox... and if she is the daughter of the true enemy, why didn't she do something to me?"
"No one quite understands Nox," she said. "She is her own creature. Perhaps she finds the current panoply more interesting."
Parry squared his shoulders. "We had better get on with it. I hope Chronos helps me."
"He was the only major earthly Incarnation not present at Gaea's outrage," she said. "That could be because he failed to get the news, being on the other side of events, but I prefer to think it is because he respects You."
"He doesn't even know me!"
"You forget, he could have known you for decades hence."
Parry sighed. "I did forget. This may be tricky."
"Nox did say Chronos would help," she reminded him.
Nox. Parry found himself being swept back into his memory of that experience. The stuff of dreams!
Lilah jogged him back to the present. "I know that look on a man's face. Keep her out of Your mind, my Lord, or You are lost before You begin."
Good advice! They went up to the door and knocked.
The Incarnation of Time himself opened it. He was a man of about Parry's age, with portly figure and gray hair. His suit appeared somewhat out of style, but not archaic; Parry realized that it probably would come into style in a later decade. The man lived backward; he had to keep that in mind!
Chronos took his hand. "You told me you would be calling, Satan," he said warmly. "I am sorry only that our acquaintance must end now."
"We—have had a long acquaintance?" Parry asked cautiously, hardly daring to rely on the significance of such a statement.
"Certainly!" Chronos agreed heartily. "You have always been kind to me, Satan, and I am not unmindful of past favors. You told me that you would have something important to ask me at this point, and certainly I shall answer to the best of my ability."
This was almost too easy! Parry hesitated to broach his question, as yet uncertain of the implications. If Chronos had known him long, then he must have survived the trial period and become the regular Incarnation of Evil. Must have maintained the name Satan. Could he trust that?
"And Lilah, you darling creature!" Chronos said, stepping up to embrace her warmly. She, too, seemed uncertain.
"Chronos, remember that this is new to us at the moment," Parry said. "We do not know what kind of relationship we shall be having with you. I should advise you that the other Incarnations—"
"Yes, that is awkward," Chronos said quickly. "I must not say too much, of course. But I can tell you that you and Lilah have always been true friends to me, for the entire thirty years I have held this office, though of course never intimate in the other sense." He glanced again at Lilah. "Not that I could not have wished otherwise, no affront intended."
Lilah smiled. "Perhaps, in three or four years, if you are in need, I will come to you one time." She glanced significantly at Parry, and her prior remarks to him fell into place. She had rewarded Chronos in the past for the favor Chronos was about to do now for Parry. She had not known it at the time, but the retrospective rationale seemed apt. Parry found he could not quite manage to be jealous of it; it was after all a special situation.
Even so, he could not stop himself from wondering which particular time that she had been absent from him she had done it. She had seemed wholly devoted to his corruption; why had she gone visiting with Chronos?
"You will be welcome, Lilah," Chronos said. It was evident that he understood her nature perfectly, and accepted it. "I will let you know, if such need occurs." And there was the answer; Chronos had asked for her, and she, knowing his nature, had elected to cooperate rather than question it. Now Parry was glad she had.
Chronos returned his attention to Parry. "But I would help you regardless, my friend. What is it you require?"
"The secret of the spell to banish demons," Parry said.
Chronos pursed his lips. "That, I regret, I do not know. Neither you nor any other creature has vouchsafed that information to me."
The disappointment was keen. "Nox said you might—" Parry shrugged. "I just assumed you knew."
"Nox." Chronos smiled reminiscently. "Now there is a creature to conjure with, if I may be excused the notion. She thought I knew it?"
"She said to ask you, and that you might help."
"Indeed I would help if I could." Chronos paced the floor. "Almost, I think, once long ago, you made reference—I thought it of no significance—to—to, let me think now. No, it was something I read in a book left by my predecessor. Let me see." He hurried from the room.
"A book from the future?" Parry asked, bemused.
Chronos returned, carrying an ornate volume. "The Collected Edition of the Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley," he announced. "Eighteen-thirty-nine."
"What?" Parry thought he had misheard.
"An English poet, as I understand it. Before my time, of course, and after yours. One of my predecessors may have brought the volume to this house and forgotten it. So it remains, becoming further anachronistic each year. There are some fascinating references I don't pretend to comprehend! But my point is, there is a note in the margin of one of the—ah, here it is! The poem 'Death'—"
"Thanatos?" Parry asked, not liking this. His respect for the Incarnation of Death had been rudely downgraded recently.
"No, I am in error. It is the sonnet 'Ozymandias.' See, here is the note: 'He knows the secret.' I do not know what that can mean, but perhaps it relates." He brought the open book and showed it to Parry.
Parry stared at the page. "The calligraphy!" he exclaimed. "How could the human hand be so precise? Every letter is the same, and tiny!"
"And the pages!" Lilah added, as intrigued. "Tens, hundreds of them, bound together by one side! What scribe managed that?"
Chronos shook his head. "Evidently they had ways, in the nineteenth century. That is after all six hundred years from here. Their magicians must have rare competence. It never occurred to me to wonder about it, before."
The three of them gazed in wonder at the volume for a moment more. Then Parry read the scrawled note, and the poem to which it attached, piecing out the strange lettering in English, not his best language. " 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' " He looked up. "But nothing beside remains, it says; only bare sand."
Lilah laughed. "All his works had been forgotten! So much for his arrogance! I remember him, but did not realize that anyone else did."
Both Chronos and Parry looked at her, surprised. "You knew Ozymandias?" Parry asked.
"Of course. He was quite a figure in his heyday! I—I explained about that, my Lord."
She had been with even this long-forgotten historical king! Parry was too amazed to be jealous, this time.
"Do you think he might know the secret you require?" Chronos asked. "Surely there was reason to make that note."
"He just might," Lilah said. "He was no scholar himself, but he had pride. He wanted to have the best in everything, so he had a battery of scholars of every discipline, and the finest sorcerers. If there was an important secret to divine, he had the means to divine it."
"But if he died so long ago that all his works have perished and been forgotten, we can hardly ask him," Parry said.
"Oh, there is no problem about that," she said brightly. "He's in Hell now, of course."
Parry exchanged glances with Chronos. Ozymandias was available!
Suddenly Parry was eager to be on his way. "I thank you, Chronos!" he said. "You may have provided me with what I need!"
"I certainly hope so, old friend." Chronos extended his hand, and Parry took it warmly. He knew he would visit this man again; already he liked the Incarnation of Time. Perhaps the two of them were alike in their isolation, so found camaraderie together while the other Incarnations ignored them.
They stepped outside. There were the prior Parry and Lilah approaching. Parry waved, startling his other self. "He'll figure it out," he said, and turned down an alternate path.
Lilah knew where to look for Ozymandias: in the dread Ninth Circle, reserved for traitors. "He gained his power by murdering his kindred," she said. "He usurped the throne, then went on to betray his benefactors, his friends and finally his country, exploiting all its resources for his own aggrandizement. He was an apt ruler, actually, because of his ruthlessness; his empire was the most powerful of those that have been forgotten. I think he angered Fate by his presumption, so she arranged to have his legacy lost after he died. So now he suffers the humiliation of being a nonentity, in addition to the tortures of Hell. It will be nice to see him again."
Not too nice, Parry hoped. Her complete honesty was somewhat wearing at times.
They returned to the lowest level of Hell, which was frozen over, an indication of its timelessness. Now Lilah peered at the faces of the figures frozen under the ice. "Hello, Brutus," she said brightly.
"You knew Brutus—the Roman?" Parry asked, hardly pleased.
"Of course. And Caesar, whom he betrayed. Caesar was really something—every woman's man and every man's woman. I had to change forms back and forth to keep him entertained. I remember the time when I—"
"Never mind," Parry said harshly. Now he was getting a notion where she had learned some of her more exotic sexual techniques. "We're not looking for Caesar."
"And here's Judas," she said. "He was the disciple of Jesus Christ, who—"
"Him, too?" Parry asked, appalled anew.
"Of course. Who do you think corrupted him? Beelzebub was very pleased. He—"
"Enough! Just find Ozymandias!"
"Here he is," she said, stopping over the face of a perpetually sneering man.
Parry peered down. "But he's frozen! How can I talk to him?"
"I can thaw him," she said confidently. "But you may not like the manner of it."
"I don't care about the manner! Just so long as he'll talk to me."
"Remember, he is history's most arrogant man. You will have to approach him appropriately."
"I'll sing him a song," Parry said shortly.
"That would do it," she agreed.
She walked across the ice, her outfit modifying as she moved. It became an ornate dress, with supportive petticoats and a tightly laced bodice. Sparkling earrings appeared, and a shining tiara for her hair. She looked like a princess.
She came to stand directly above Ozymandias, her legs moderately spread. Now Parry realized that the frozen man was gazing up. He appreciated why she had said he would not like this: she was standing so that the ancient King could see up under her dress.
Then she began to dance. She remained in place, moving her body suggestively but traveling no distance. Her hips swiveled, her bosom bounced, her ankles flashed and her long hair swirled about her body. Parry wished he could take her this instant to the nest in the tree trunk.
Ozymandias had a better view. Now Parry saw the eyeballs move, following the play of those legs. The ice had melted in that region!
As the suggestive dance continued, the melting became more evident. The King was heating up, forming a pool around him. No wonder; the same thing was happening, to a lesser degree, elsewhere in the frozen lake. Any man who could get a refractive view of Lilah's dance was responding. It was a dance that could not be denied.
As the ice melted, Lilah had to move to the side, lest she sink in the slush. She did so, but continued to circle the submerged King, lifting her petticoats so that he could still see her legs.
Parry found himself standing in a puddle. His own heat was doing it. What a dance!
Finally the King floated to the surface of the pool formed around him. His head cleared the water.
Now Lilah desisted, her laced bosom heaving prettily. "O King of the Ages," she said. "I have brought one to talk with you."
The King replied in a foreign language, but Parry understood him. Here in Hell, all language was common, no matter what its origin. "After I enjoy thee, luscious handmaiden of my youth!" Ozymandias replied, scrambling out of the pool.
"Yours, my Lord," Lilah called to Parry, stepping back. "Unless you prefer to wait?"
Parry had to laugh. If he waited, he would shortly have the sight of the King having his will of the demoness. He could hardly blame the King for trying, but he did not intend to watch.
He took just a moment to organize his thoughts, then sang, adapting his approach to appeal to the vanity of the King. He was gambling that the arrogance of Ozymandias was greater than his sexual drive, despite the superlative provocation Lilah had provided. He formed impromptu verses, their meter and rhyme falling into place in the language of the King, though not in his own.
"O King Ozymandias, hark unto me! I come as a supplicant to ask a favor of you. You have a secret I need, that no other will provide. Listen to me, O greatest of Kings!"
Ozymandias paused in his pursuit of the demoness. The flattery of old was registering. "Make it quick, supplicant, for I have pressing business with the temptress of old."
Parry did not attempt to talk normally, knowing that that would not hold the King's attention. Song was his strength and his weapon; it was the only effective tool he had for this occasion.
"Great, King Ozymandias, hark unto me! I have heard that your power was the greatest known. That the mighty looked on your works, and despaired. Surely you alone of mortals can help me. Great King, I know your power extended to knowledge too; That there was no thing you could not know If it was your desire to know. You were the Lord of all lands and all information!"
Ozymandias turned his head to look directly at him, impressed by his accuracy. "Out with it, supplicant!" he snapped. "I have heard not the like of your voice since the Llano! Ask your boon. Perhaps I will grant it."
"Great King, I need to know the secret, The secret of the spell to banish demons. You alone of mortals—"
He was interrupted by the King's laughter. "You ask too much, supplicant! No one can help you there."
Parry realized that he would have to increase the offering. Ozymandias evidently could help him, if he chose. But what was there to give, except the praise he had already expended? He wracked his mind for what would move the King, knowing that his time was very short. Already the ice was reforming, and if Lilah had to dance again to melt it.
Then Lilah was his elbow. "The sonnet," she said.
The sonnet? That had identified Ozymandias, but it would not even be written for several hundred years. What good was that?
"It is the only record of his greatness," she said. Then he understood. That was, indeed, the final appeal.
"Hark unto me, O King of the Ages! Fate conspired against you in your decease Wiping out the record of your greatness. I can guarantee that your name will be immortalized in poetry—"
That recovered the King's attention. "My reputation restored? Written in literature never to be extinguished?"
Now it was safe to talk naturally. "In a poem that will exist at least through the nineteenth century, perhaps far longer, telling of your memorial and your final words."
Ozymandias considered. "This may be illusion, but better than naught. What power have ye to honor it?"
"I will be the Incarnation of Evil."
The King nodded. "That will do. Very well, I will share with you the secret. But you will not find it easy."
The King himself was not finding it easy. Deprived of Lilah's stimulation, he was sinking back into the thickening pool. "I will do what I must to maintain my power. You understand that sort of thing. Greatest of Kings."
"I do indeed!" Ozymandias was now waist deep. He glanced around, to be sure that no one else was close enough to hear. "The secret, O innocent supplicant, is that there is no secret. No such spell exists; demons cannot be banished by mortals."
"But—"
"That is the truth!" Ozymandias said as his body slid down. "Make of it what you will!" Now only his head was in the air. "Look on my words, ye mighty, and despair!" He disappeared beneath the surface. The last thing to go was his grim grin. He was enjoying the humor of the situation.
Parry stared after him, stunned. He had no doubt that the man had told the truth, and gained sinister pleasure from it. But what a disaster that truth was!
Lilah approached. "He gave you the secret?" she asked.
"He did," Parry agreed ruefully.
"Now you can govern Hell!
"Now I can govern Hell," he agreed ironically. Now he understood why the prior masters of Hell never revealed the secret: it would have destroyed their power. Their power had been based on illusion.
Yet it had worked. They had governed!
If they had done it, so could he! All it required was bluff and deceit. If he could pull that off, in the manner they had, he would survive.
He marched across the ice, toward the office of Asmodeus. Lilah, excited, accompanied him. "Are you going to destroy him, my Lord?"
"That depends," Parry said grimly.
Asmodeus was there. "So thou didst get free, impostor!" he said. "And thou hast the temerity to return here! Well, this time I shall banish thee to a less comfortable region!"
"You do that, fishface," Parry said. "You have no power over Me." He used the self-capitalization consciously, knowing that it was expected of the true Master of Hell.
Asmodeus snapped his fingers. Magic crackled—but Parry was unmoved. "I am the Incarnation of Evil," he said. "You are a subordinate. You cannot banish Me, because I now have the secret. Accept My authority, or I shall demonstrate it on you. I am to be titled Satan, Lord of all these demesnes."
Asmodeus considered. He knew that Parry had interviewed Ozymandias, and that this was a legitimate source. The denizens of Hell would accept its validity. It was evident that Lilah already did. On the other hand, if Parry were denied the power he claimed, he could reveal the secret to all, and no Incarnation of Evil would thereafter be able to exercise proper power. Furthermore, it would be known that all the prior Incarnations, Asmodeus himself included, had been bluffing throughout. Demons only puffed into nonexistence because they were convinced that the Lord of Hell had the power to destroy them. They were the ultimate victims of Hell's greatest illusion.
Parry lifted his hand, his fingers poised to snap. At that snap, Asmodeus would have either to vanish or to demonstrate that the power was invalid. This was the key trial.
"I have a soul, as all Incarnations have," Asmodeus said. "Thou canst not destroy me."
"Granted," Parry said. "But I can destroy all who serve you, and replace them with My own minions. You may know the spell, but you are no longer the Incarnation. I am, and the ultimate power is Mine. Deny it if you will."
And Asmodeus, his bluff called, capitulated. "The ultimate power is Thine, Satan. Leave me mine office, as Thy predecessor did, and I will serve Thee as I did him."
Victory! "Remain," Parry said curtly. "I will reassign officers under your authority, as long as you serve Me well and loyally. Hell shall be revamped along more efficient lines."
"Hell shall be revamped," Asmodeus agreed.
Parry turned his back. "Come wench," he said imperiously to Lilah. He conjured them both to the tree retreat, leaving behind a dissipating ball of fire. The magic was incidental, but the proper flair was not. As Satan, he intended to do things in style.