Thanks to the Mars fragment, she made her way safely from Budapest, across the Iron Curtain, and to Ireland, where Pacian was waiting for her. She was tired and bedraggled and felt exceedingly mortal, but she was ready to marry him.
But first she consulted with her son the Magician. "Satan swore to harass me and mine," she said. "Is it possible to be secure from this?"
"Satan is constrained to operate somewhat through channels," he replied. "My power does not approach his, but I can protect us all from his mischief." He gave her a bright green garnet, mounted on a silver chain. "Wear this always. Mother, and you will be secure. I will see to the daughters in their turn."
"Thank you, son," she said, smiling. He was now forty, she twenty-four, physically.
"And one for Pace," he said, handing her another.
The wedding was in spring, and by summer Niobe was pregnant. The Magician's wife, Pacian's daughter Blenda, turned up pregnant that same summer, after five years of marriage, by what coincidence or design only Lachesis might know. Niobe and Blenda took walks together and compared notes, still seeming like sisters though Blenda was now five years older physically.
When spring came again, both women gave birth to daughters within a week of each other. Niobe named hers Orb and Blenda named hers Luna, for they were like twin moons. The Magician presented each baby with a polished moonstone, to protect her from misfortune.
The two girls were raised together and were amazingly similar even after allowing for the fact that they were closely related. Niobe and Pacian were the ancestors of both; strangers assumed that Orb and Luna were twins. The Magician still tended to bury himself in his studies, and Blenda had retired from teaching in order to assist him, so that Luna would spend days at a time at Niobe's house. Pacian, always a farmer, was now going into tree farming, gradually remaking the wetlands without destroying it; this took long hours. Thus most of the child care fell to Niobe. She loved it. She had given up her first child. Junior, and now was glad to make up for it by raising two. It was her fulfillment as a mother, forty years delayed.
She put them together in a double pram for walks through the countryside and, when they grew old enough to do their own walking, she took them through the wetlands to admire the fine magical trees Pacian was cultivating. Sometimes they would ride their family carpet to the place where she and Cedric had lived. The old cabin had been replaced by a modern bungalow, complete with electricity and central heating, but the old water oak remained. The hamadryad was now a middle-aged nymph, showing it more by manner than by form, but she remembered Niobe, once she introduced herself, and came down cautiously to play with the little girls. Niobe was as happy as she had ever been, despite the nostalgia. But she always made sure both girls were wearing their protective moonstones, for Satan could be lurking, awaiting his chance for mischief.
The children reached school age, and Niobe took them there together and got them enrolled. She had to wrestle verbally with the clerks who assumed that two similar children whose surname was Kaftan had to be sisters if not twins. "Orb is mine, Luna is my son's child." They stared at her, for she was physically thirty.
Both girls were bright as well as pretty. Niobe's side of the family accounted for the beauty, and the Kaftan side accounted for the brilliance. It was genetics more than merit, but still she was inordinately proud.
As school progressed, the girls became more differentiated. They adopted different clothing and hairstyles;
one would wear pink, the other green, and then they would switch. One would grow her hair long, while the other cut it short—and again they would switch. Luna's hair was clover-honey, like her mother's, and her eyes were pearl-gray; Orb's hair was buckwheat-honey, like Niobe's, and her eyes pale blue. But they could still be very similar when they chose.
Luna became interested in art, while Orb liked music. Luna showed real talent with pictures, proceeding from crayons to pastel chalk to watercolors and finally to oil; her efforts were always prominently represented in class shows. Orb started with the guitar and gravitated to the piano, then centered on the harp. She had genuine talent for it, and when she was ten, she gave a recital of The Shepherd's Song that sounded so like the magic music her father and grandfather had had that Niobe was stunned. She had the magic—and it reached a short way out beyond physical contact to touch those who listened closely. The audience, though it heard only the physical music, was still entranced, and applauded her enthusiastically.
By the time they were twelve, both girls were almost as pretty as their mothers had been, and their talents were solidly established. "It's time they had better equipment," Pacian said and he took Niobe to see the Magician.
"The instruments exist," the Magician said. "But they have to be won. They are in an annex to the Hall of the Mountain King. The King sleeps, but an attempt to steal anything would wake him, and that would be unfortunate."
"I don't want them stealing anything!" Niobe protested. "They're honest girls!"
The Magician smiled tolerantly. "To be sure. Mother. But you must understand the Mountain King's definition. He will freely give the instruments to any person he deems worthy of them—but what he calls worthy, we might call theft."
"That's preposterous!"
"Not so. Mother," he informed her patiently. "A person who can take the instrument deserves it; the one who cannot, but who tries to, is a thief."
"There are standards—an examination?"
"A series of three challenges to gain entry," he said, "Then a demonstration of proficiency for the specific instrument."
"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."
Niobe was silent. If what the girl said was true, she had more talent than anyone had judged.
Luna paused and stepped back. "There," she said. She had painted a huge seashell partly enclosing the figure. "Nude Grandmother on the half-shell."
"For pity's sake!" Niobe exclaimed with mock annoyance, and Orb giggled.
Then the picture moved in the air. It tilted, developed a frame, and moved into the cabinet. The glass doors closed.
"I think your picture has been accepted," Niobe said. "You have earned the brush."
"Oh, goody!" Luna exclaimed. "Thank you, Mountain King! I'll use it always! It's the best brush I ever dreamed of!"
Now it was Orb's turn. She opened the cabinet and lifted out the golden harp. It was small, but exquisitely crafted, surely the finest instrument of its kind. She seated herself cross-legged on the floor, set the base of the harp within the circle of her legs so she could hold it steady, and touched the strings with her Fingers. A fine chord sounded. "Ooo, it's truly magic!" she exclaimed. "I can really play this!"
Orb paused a moment, mentally selecting a song. Then she began singing, accompanying herself on the harp.
"I want to waltz in the wetlands..."
Niobe was astonished. She hadn't known that Orb knew that song; she must have learned it at school. She was doing it very well, and the magic harp amplified both the sound and the natural magic she had, so that the background orchestra sounded loud and clear and stereophonic.
Twelve years old! How well would Orb sing and play and project when she achieved her full proficiency? Probably well enough to turn professional, if she chose.
"Yes I—will cry—I'll cry when the wetlands are dry," Orb finished and bowed her head. There were tears on her cheeks, and on Luna's and Niobe's too; it had been truly beautiful.
Then the song sounded again—but Orb wasn't singing or playing. The cabinet was doing it. The song had been recorded, magic orchestra and all!
The replay ended, and the cabinet doors closed. This, too, had been accepted. Orb had won her harp.
"It's done," Niobe said, relieved. "Now we can go home."
They started back. The bat cave had been turned off, and was now apparent as a concavely curving floor eighteen inches below the swinging bridge; the bat was a transparent light projection. The wand Luna had dropped lay on the stone; its long fall had been illusion.There had, indeed, been no danger.
"To think I crawled on hands and knees!" Luna said ruefully.
"As a challenge, it was valid," Niobe said, picking up the wand to replace it in the wand-holder. "Even illusions can hurt, as when we were blinded. Life is like that too; the unreal can be as important as the real, and sometimes it becomes real." She was consciously lecturing the girls, knowing that all too soon they would enter the arena of social and sexual awareness, where the pitfalls were indeed of perception.
They crossed, not bothering to use the bridge, and took the tunnel to the next chamber. This was unchanged; there really was a river and a barrier.
"That's a relief," Luna said. "I'd hate to think I went naked to swim through water that didn't exist!"
"But now it's just water," Orb said, scooping up a handful and sipping it. "And no blubber monster."
They waded in, the girls holding their instruments clear of the water as long as they could. There was a momentary flicker of light. Then Orb dived under the barrier and came up on the other side. She took a breath as she broke the surface—and screamed.
Niobe halted at the barrier. "What is it, dear?" she called, alarmed.
"I can't see!" Orb cried. "I'm blind! I'm blind!" She flailed about, dropping the harp, which sank to the bottom.
"Wait, dear!" Niobe cried. "Relax! It can't be—"
"Where am I?" Orb cried, still flailing. "How did I get here? Why can't I see?"
Niobe exchanged glances with Luna, whose mouth opened in an appalled O. "The Lethe!" the girl whispered. "It's on again!"
"And this time it's real!" Niobe exclaimed. "Something's wrong!"
The lethal monster appeared, moving slowly toward Orb.
"Get back out of the water!" Niobe cried to Luna. "I'll rescue her!" She took a breath, closed her eyes, and dived under the barrier. She was able to spot Orb by the noise of her splashing. She took hold of the girl and used the life-saving technique to haul her along. Niobe had to trust that her sense of direction was true and that she was swimming for the opposite bank. She did not dare open her eyes, or try to speak to her daughter; some water would be sure to splash in. She had no notion how close the monster was; she just had to keep them moving.
She made it. She found the bank and hauled Orb out. She cleared her eyes, then shook the girl by the shoulders to get her attention. "Be still. Orb! You've been dosed with the water of Lethe, so you can't see or remember, but the effect fs temporary. Soon you will see and remember. Just relax. Relax!"
Slowly the girl calmed. "Oh, Mother," she cried, and hugged Niobe. "I'm so scared!"
So she remembered the basic relationship. Probably it was only the most recent events that were gone.
"It will pass," Niobe reassured her. "You're not hurt, just inconvenienced for a few minutes. Just sit here and don't move." Then she looked across the river. Luna was standing on the far side. "Are you all right, Luna?"
"I'm all right," the girl called. "Should I cross?"
Niobe considered momentarily. "No. Go to the other cave and see whether it too has been reactivated. Don't try to cross it, though!"
"I wouldn't dare!" Luna said seriously. She disappeared into the tunnel.
Orb's tears seemed to help clear the spell from her eyes.
"Mother! I can see a little!"
"Yes, of course, dear," Niobe said, expressing more confidence than she had felt. "Just have patience, and you will soon be back to normal."
After a while that seemed longer than it was, Luna returned. "It's back," she reported. "I knelt at the edge and reached down, and I couldn't feel the floor at all. Then the bat came, and I ran."
How did the illusion of a chasm become real, Niobe wondered. An eighteen-inch fall could not duplicate the effect of a hundred-foot fall. But she was sure that chasm was now there. The Mountain King's magic was no illusion!
"You'd better come across, then," Niobe decided. "It's easier for you than it would be for Orb, and I think we can handle the mine-chamber better."
"What happened?" Orb asked as Luna crossed. Evidently her memory had not caught up to the last few minutes.
"We were crossing the river—and the magic came on," Niobe said. "I don't know why. It's as if we were suddenly considered thieves instead of worthy winners."
"But we're not thieves!" Orb protested.
"Of course we're not!" Then something occurred to her. "But maybe there is a thief, somewhere in here, and he activated the magic—and we got caught."
"But we saw no one else!"
"True." Niobe sighed; it had been such a good explanation. Then she thought of an answer. "One could have tried the first challenge, and set off more than one mine, and not retreated. That might account for it."
Luna emerged from the water. "I got it!" she exclaimed, brandishing the harp. "I felt for it on the bottom, and there it was!"
"Oh, thank you, Moth!" Orb exclaimed.
"That's okay, Eyeball," Luna replied, smiling as she handed it to her.
Niobe was startled in a minor way; she had not heard these particular nicknames before. She wondered how much of children's activities inattentive adults missed.
They dressed and proceeded cautiously to the minecave, half expecting to encounter the thief, but there was none. The cave was empty. They tested it by tossing a stone into the center and hiding their eyes.
The explosion was horrendous. It shook the whole cave, and several more rocks dropped from the ceiling. The hazard was certainly back—and now the mines were truly destructive.
Niobe looked at the one motorcycle on this side, the one they had ridden across on. Her mouth went dry. She had crossed this cave three times, once while blind—but she was supremely reluctant to do so again. This time the hazard was real. She and the girls could be blown up! The very knowledge of that could cause her to waver on the cycle and go astray. Already her hands were shaking.
"Where's the thief?" Luna asked.
Where, indeed! If the thief had done this by pushing on regardless, he should be here—either alive or dead. The motorcycle he had used should be visible, either whole or wrecked. But there was none—and all the other cycles were still parked in their places. There seemed to be no thief.
Well, maybe the Mountain King was cheating. He might have had no intention of giving away his precious magical instruments, so he arranged to balk the girls' escape as if by accident.
That angered Niobe. "Two can play at that!" she muttered. She picked up another fallen rock. "Watch yourselves!" she warned, and heaved it.
There was another detonation. Again the cave shook, and more rocks dropped. As soon as the cave was quiet, Niobe picked up another rock and heaved it.
"What are you doing. Mother?" Orb asked after the third explosion.
"I am clearing a path through this trap!" Niobe said grimly. "A mine can't explode when it has already been exploded." She heaved again.
"Oh!" Orb exclaimed, smiling. "How smart of you, Mother! Can I do it too?"
Why not? "Yes you may—but shield your eyes."
The girl picked up a rock and heaved, then turned away. She clapped her hands with delight as the mine went off. Children of either sex seemed to have a certain muted passion for violence, Niobe reflected.
Before long they had cleared a broad channel across the cave. They tossed in a few more rocks, just to be sure there were no live mines left. Then Niobe ferried them across as before. She wasn't sure what would happen if they simply walked across and didn't trust it; the motorcycle was easy enough to use, now. Safely across, she parked it, and the three of them turned to the entrance/ exit passage.
But as they approached, a man came through it from the other direction. He was huge and hairy and ferocious, he carried a giant sledgehammer, and his eyes fairly sparked so that they threatened to set fire to his beard. "Thieves!" he roared. "You would rob the museum of the Vanir? I will destroy you!" He lifted the sledgehammer.
"The Mountain King!" Luna squeaked, falling back. Something akin to a berserker rage flooded through Niobe. She stepped forward, sidestepped the swinging sledge, and slapped the man resoundingly on his hairy cheek. "Leave that girl alone!" she snapped. "She's no thief! You are!"
The man could hardly have been hurt by the slap, but he paused, astonished, as he stared at her. "Clotho!"
"Not anymore!" Niobe said curtly. Then she, too, paused. "How did you know me?"
He set his sledgehammer down and leaned on the handle. "How could any man forget the face of the loveliest creature to grace the pagan realm? What do ye here, O divine one?"
Niobe stifled a flush of pleasure. "Um, how long have you been asleep this time?"
The Mountain King ticked off numbers on his fingers. "Twenty-five years or so. Why?"
That explained it. He had been asleep all the time she had been mortal. "I returned to ordinary life thirteen years ago," Niobe said. "I'm here with my daughter and granddaughter. We did not come here to steal from you."
The man glanced at the instruments the girls held. "If you speak for these, Clotho, I'll not challenge them. Indeed, methought in my dream I heard the music of my harp, played in a manner it was Crafted to be." Then he did a double take. "A granddaughter—in thirteen years? Your body would madden any man's mind, but—"
"By my prior mortality," Niobe said quickly. She gestured to Luna. "Your cabinet accepted the picture she painted, so—"
"True. Then why the alarm?"
"That's what I want to know! We were halfway out when—"
"Tis not of my doing," the giant said. "I will have the truth of this. Follow me, Clotho." He strode into the cave, and his footprints glowed in his wake. He was angry.
They followed, not bothering with the motorcycle this time; the glowing prints were their guarantee of safety.
When the Mountain King came to the middle cave, he stepped into the water—and it evaporated instantly, leaving the floor dry. When he reached the barrier, a gate in it swung open to let him pass without pause. There was no doubt he was the master of this place. They continued to follow, awed.
The chasm was there in the third cave, and the vampire bat alert. The King strode into it, and the illusion or reality vanished, leaving the cave empty. The tremulous lightpattern that was all that remained of the vampire bat fled.
They came into the display room. There was a demon with its finger in the harp-cabinet. Evidently that evil influence was what was triggering the thief-alarm; as long as that demon remained, no one could pass.
"Ho! Loki's work!" the Mountain King exclaimed, and hurled his massive sledge as if it were a toy.
The hammer struck the demon. The creature puffed into smoke. The cabinet exploded.
The Mountain King retrieved his sledgehammer. The far-flung fragments of the cabinet imploded, re-forming their original shape, with a hint of the music Orb had made.
"Go in peace, Clotho," the giant rumbled. "You and yours. My apology for this nuisance."
"Quite all right, sir," Niobe said, somewhat taken aback. She hustled the girls out again. This time there was no problem in any of the caves.
The instruments were wonderful, and both girls continued to prosper in their talents. By the time they completed school, each was as skilled as any Niobe knew. She was sure both would prosper in life, if Fate permitted. But there was the matter of the tangled skein that had not yet materialized.
After Blenda died, the Magician Kaftan moved to America with Luna, apparently unable to face the old country in her absence. Niobe was saddened more by Luna's departure than by her son's, for she had actually been closer to her granddaughter. But she could not protest. Luna was a fine, levelheaded young woman, and she would take good care of her father.
Then, after twenty-two years of their marriage, Pacian died. He was seventy-four, by no means young, but it came as a shock; somehow she had always thought of him as eleven years younger than herself, and she was only forty-six, physically. She had lived twenty-three years in her first mortality, and the same number in her second. It was as if she had finally completed the term set for her original love of Cedric. She still loved Pacian, but the intensity of it had eased over the years. Now she had raised her family, and was satisfied to meet the necessary severance of threads. She had seen Pace ailing, and had done what she could for him, never thinking he could actually die. Satan seemed to have no hand in this; the cause had been natural.
After the funeral, she tended to retreat from participation in worldly matters. Orb went away on tour as a singer; indeed, she had been traveling about the world from the time she turned eighteen. There just wasn't much left for Niobe in the mortal realm.
Then she received news that her son, the Magician, had also died. This was entirely unexpected; he was only sixty-three. Luna wrote to report that she now lived alone in the Magician's house, carrying on his business, and that she was dating the new Thanatos, exactly as the prophecy had foretold. Niobe had no stomach for that business. She kept her letters polite and left the girl alone. What, after all, had she expected of mortality—perpetual youth, bliss, and innocence? She was in as good a position as any woman to know better.
She was chronologically eighty-six years old; she had outlived her time. Her comfortable, placid world had been replaced by modern high-tech, high-magic world. She was prepared to depart it with a minimum of fuss.
But the following year, things changed.