Chicks - Chicks 'N Chained Males Part 12

I'd been hoping to put the moment off a little longer-but Gawain has a voice that can stun a sheep at sixty paces (which explains much about his love life), and soon enough Agravaine and Gaheris had joined him, telling anyone who would listen thattheir sister had just pulled Guenhwyfar from the stone and what was somebody going to do about it, eh?

I found out then that cold steel is a better argument than all the words in the world, because I managed to defend my position beside the anvil until Uther could be summoned back from the tower. By then three of my brothers (guess which) were sitting at the foot of the platform bleeding and howling, and an enormous crowd had gathered to stare at me as if I were the two-headed pig at St. Audrey's Fair.

Uther's litter was ringed with torches. He stared at me, and at the sword, and did not say anything for quite some time.

"Well," he finally said. "Well, well, well, well, well."

("That's a deep subject," Modrat muttered. I elbowed him in the ribs.) "What am I to do with you?" Uther said.

The crowd-and my foster brothers-had a number of suggestions, none of which I thought it would do me any good to hear.

"This woman Vivane is the daughter of Nimhue, last wife of King Ambrius, and your heir," Modrat bellowed loud enough to be heard in Oxford. "And by your law and your oath, she who has drawn Guenhwyfar from the stone and the anvil must rule Lochrin when you are gone."

Mo was speaking for the broadsheets, needless to say. He never talked like that at home.

Uther smiled as if his face would crack, because Modrat was right, and if he went back on his word now he'd be cold potroast by morning and Cornwall would be on the throne.

So the king beckoned us down to him and the crowd cheered and we all set off for the White Tower-a place a good deal safer to be thanChez Orkney this particular evening, by my reckoning. Modrat walked beside the king, the torches glinting off his fox-red hair, and I carried Guenhwyfar upraised for everyone to see.

"I'll have to be sure to find her a good husband," I heard Uther muttered as he was carried off.

"Did I happen to mention," Modrat asked him, "the ancient Druidic prophecy that states the wielder of Guenhwyfar cannot marry anyone except a man who has defeated her fairly in battle . . . ?"

Yeah, right, and the ancient prophecy was dated about fifteen minutes ago. I didn't think Uther would gofor it, but tomorrow is another day, as the bards say. I had the sword. I'd be king. Simple.

Besides, possession is nine points of the law, and now that I had Guenhwyfar what were they going to do, write me out of history?

So she's had over two dozen stories published in places likeAmazingandAsimov'sandPlayboy(!), and she's co-edited an anthology(Ripper)with Gardner Dozois, and she's one funny lady. Yet for all that, there's one thing I fear I'll never let her forget: "Under Her Skin," her story about a vampire that doesn't drink blood but . . . fat.

Wish fulfillment: It works for me.

Why Do You Think They

Call It Middle Earth?

(or how I slew a dragon and found myself a mate)

Susan Casper

I bet that most of you believe the earth is right side out, solid all the way down, at least until you hit that molten core, and hotter than blazes in the middle? I did too. That is, I did until I fell through a crack one day.

Oh, yes, I did. There I was walking down the street, minding my own business and not really bothering anyone, when . . . Well, actually, I can't really say what happened. I was walking down the street when this guy comes up to me and says, "Lady can you spare some change?" Can you imagine? I mean, I know I am considered a large woman, but do I look like a bank or something? But hey, I'm not an ungenerous soul. I took a minute of my time to tell him how to get out of his situation, starting with a bath and maybe some clothes, and I was just getting to the part about a job when whammo. I think the earth opened right beneath my feet, but maybe the hole was there all along and I just didn't notice. I do know I was falling. I was so startled that I didn't even notice what I pa.s.sed on the way down, which p.i.s.sed me off when I landed on account of I wouldn't know who to sue. It got dark kinda fast and after that I couldn't see anything until I hit the ground with a thud.

Fortunately, the ground was soft, and after a moment I saw some stars . . . not in the hitting your head kind of way, but actual points of light in the sky. It took a minute to realize what they were. It was morning when I started and I knew I hadn't been falling all that long, but it was night when I landed allright. The moon was yellow enough to pa.s.s for a giant lemon, and after a moment other lights were visible a long way off. Wherever I was, I was d.a.m.ned upset. I was gonna be late for work, for starters. I pulled out my cell phone and tried to call the office, but there must have been some heavy interference in the area. I couldn't connect to anyone. I tried then to stand up and fell back again, the heel of my shoe twisting right off underneath me. I took them off to look at them. That's what I get for shopping at Payless. I shoved them into my purse. They would fit if I didn't zip it, but that meant my stockings were gonna be ruined. I took them off too, sliding them down under my dress, then, shoes sticking half out of my purse, and thank heaven I carried the big one that day, I picked what I thought was the closest of the lights and headed off in that direction. There wasn't a path, so far as I could tell. Whatever it was I was walking across, it wasn't any kind of gra.s.s my feet were familiar with; it crackled and crunched with every step. I had the horrid feeling that if I stopped for even a moment, I'd feel it moving underfoot.

My name is Emily Prentiss, by the way, and if I do say so myself, I'm one of the best corporate traders in the business. The guys hate the fact that I've got more kills than any two of them. I know what they call me behind my back. "Super-b.i.t.c.h," "Dragonslayer," and "She-Wolf," are some of the milder terms they have for me. But the point is, when I set out to do something, I get the job done, which is why I kept walking, lawsuit in hand, ready to take the head of the first person I came across.

"By G.o.d, somebody's gonna pay for this!" I muttered over and over again whenever a rock or thorn caught my tender skin. The light turned out to be from a little wooden shack. I couldn't see anything through the window, but the light meant someone was there. Boss or worker, I didn't care. I meant to find out just what the h.e.l.l was going on. There was no bell or knocker. I pounded on the rough wooden door with my fist, noting how it bent inward with every blow. I'd have it off the hinges if that was the only thing that would work, but after a moment it opened.

"Are you in charge here?" I asked, intending to go on with my tirade until I noticed that no one was there, and then my eyes lowered. A child. d.a.m.n! Why on earth would a little boy be answering the door in what was obviously the middle of the night? No, not a child. A small man, maybe a little over three feet tall. He had a short beard and straight blond hair that had probably been cut using a soup bowl.

"Lady, have you been drinking?" The voice was deep and gruff; not at all what I'd been expecting. His jacket was leather, and made him look like a diminutive thug until you looked further down and saw that instead of the usual jeans, he wore green tights that stretched up out of soft, silver boots. I could feel my mouth working, though no sounds were coming out. On his part, he seemed as puzzled as I was.

"Drinking!" I said. I got as far as "Listen, you little . . ." then stopped myself mid-sentence. No point getting into it here and now. That's what lawyers are for. Besides, the handicapped areso touchy. Fishing under the shoes, I found my organizer and slid the pen out of its sheath. "Just give me your name and then take me to your boss." I almost said "leader," there being something about the place that felt so alien.

"Lobish, son of Frobish, at your service," he said with a short bow that told me he felt free to make fun of me. He wasn't gonna get away with it. I made a quick note. "Now tell me, pray, where are you from and how did you get here?" he went on.

"How did I get here? I fell through a d.a.m.n crack that somebody left in the sidewalk. Now if you will be kind enough to tell me who is in charge here?" I asked him, pleased to see the worried look come over his face. Now we were getting somewhere.

"The Prophecy," he said. Odd sort of name, but I duly wrote it down. "This isn't good." I had to agree.

"You'll have to come with me. It's a bit of a walk, I'm afraid." The nerve of some people! "Oh no," I said. "I've already ruined my shoes. Look at them. And they were expensive imports, too. I'm not walking anywhere in my bare feet. My tootsies are killing me."

"Tootsies?" he asked. I lifted a foot and pointed. "Ah," he said, "just a minute. I think I have something here." He went back into the room. I wasn't invited, but I followed anyway. It was a strange little room.

A slab of wood in the center must have doubled as table and bed, for the only other furniture was a small chair and a large elaborate chest. That chest was a beautiful piece of work, inlaid with light and dark woods and decorated with tiles of marble, it seemed out of place in such spartan surroundings. It opened without a sound; the inside seemingly crammed with more than that small s.p.a.ce could possibly hold. With a carelessness that belied the neatness of the tiny room, he tossed objects one at a time over his shoulder.

Pots and pans, a pick, a few items of clothing-the pile behind him grew into a mound before he stood triumphantly holding what looked like a pair of small silver socks for a child.

"Those things won't fit me," I said, but he had me seated before I could finish my thought, and, with a single motion, slid them onto my feet. I had to admit, to myself at least, they were comfortable. I stood, and the hard-packed earth felt very different than it had when I first walked in. Soft, it felt, almost springy, like fine pile carpet. They probably wouldn't do much about rocks and stones, and they sure didn't go with my suit, but I was anxious to get this over with. Besides, they might let me keep them.

It was still quite dark when we started out and for the first hour we didn't talk much. The only sounds we heard were our own footsteps and the occasional beat of large wings . . . bats maybe, or some very big bird. I didn't want to know. As the sky started to lighten, I turned to Lobish.

"Hey, isn't there somewhere to stop," I asked. I was in pretty good shape, or so I thought, but this overweight gnome had me panting to catch up. "I could really use a cup of coffee."

"Coffee?" he asked. Was it really possible to live without the stuff? "I don't know what coffee is, but there's no time to stop now, my lady," he said. "The situation is most urgent." He offered me a flask and I warily wiped the rim and took a sip. Something warm filled my mouth and burned the back of my throat.

I spat it out on the gra.s.s.

"Getting me drunk won't help," I shouted, upending the flask. He made a desperate lunge and manage to pull the flask from me before I'd gotten rid of much of it.

"You may need this later on," he told me as he screwed the lid back in place and handed it to me. "It's elvish wine, and it may burn going down, but it will never affect your sense," he added. "Come, it's not far now."

"Finally!" I said as we neared a glade and I could hear talking through the trees.

"Yes, m'lady, please wait here," Lobish said.

"I think I've waited quite long enough." I pushed past him and entered the clearing. I am ashamed to admit that what I saw there actually stopped me for a moment. Several men stood around in a circle and all were as short as Lobish. The fat ones all had red or dark gold curly hair, the thin and willowy ones were blond, and I swear their ears came to points. Inbreeding at its finest. "Must be rednecks," I said, to which Lobish's only reply was "Huh?"

At this they all turned and looked in my direction, and suddenly, every one of them looked nervous. A rather tallish woman-well, tallish for this group, she came up to my nose-walked forward from the crowd. She might have been a model, for her face was beautiful, except for her height, or lack of it, andof course those unfortunate ears. She was wearing a floor-length silver dress, most inappropriate for such a meeting.

"M'lady," she said, extending her hand. I shook it.

"Oh no! This can't be right!" one of the short, round, bearded men objected. "Shecan't be the one!" He was shouted down by an even smaller man, this one not quite so out of shape, and, thank heaven, beardless. As he stood to speak, I noticed that he seemed to be wearing a pair of furry slippers.

"Sit down and let the lady have her say," the toddler-sized man shouted.

"Why must I listen to an elf?" the first man sputtered as he sank back to his seat. A fine one he was to mock her lack of stature. Why, he was even shorter than she!

"The Lady Laurelwind speaks for all peoples," her defender replied in a likewise subdued tone.

She held up her hand for silence, and when it came I heard, off in the distance, a continual banging sound, like a child playing with pots. Laurelwind paid it no notice. "It's not up to any one of us to say.

Our path is clear. It was written in the stars."

"But she's awoman ," he protested. "She shouldn't evenbe here."

"The stars are never poor scribes," Laurelwind said without raising her voice. "We are but poor interpreters,"

All this time I waited quietly to hear what offer I would be given. If there was anything I learned from my years in the business world, it was to wait and let the other guy make the first move. You'd be amazed how often you discover you can jack your price up even higher than you thought. Besides, I was still a little confused which of these factions was going to be more favorable to what I wanted. Nevertheless, the longer this discussion went on, the angrier I got. No one here seemed to care in the least how much trouble they were putting me through. I was gonna soak them for a bundle. There was personal injury, at least a bruise or two, a pair of shoes (expensive Italian pumps, I'd decided), and by now a whole day's pay into the bargain. But this whole argument was gonna heap a lot of digits onto the pain and suffering claim. The lady seemed to be the one in charge at the moment. I had to hide an evil grin as I made my move.

"Lady," I said, as it seemed to be their general form of address, though I let my voice make it clear as to my doubt of her claim to that status. "I've about had enough here. I want you to tell me, right now, what you're gonna do about getting me home."

"Home? But you cannot leave. I cannot send you back until you've done a service," she said as if she were offering me tea and cookies.

"You want me to doWHAT? " annoyed to hear my voice growing shrill. This was just great. Now they wanted me to go to some stupid church before they took me back? I wasn't gonna do it. No way!

"You must do a service," she said again, her voice still quite calm. "An act of bravery. Oh, I do hope you're up to it."

"Hey," I said, finally realizing what she wanted. "You can't do this to me. It's kidnapping or extortion or something." I spotted an empty log and sat with a gesture meant to show I wasn't gonna take any more ofthis nonsense. "I won't do it," I said and folded my arms across my chest.

"See, I told ya," the fat guy said, with all the grace of a six-year-old. I half expected to see his fingers waggling at his ears.

"You must do as it suits you," Laurelwind said, waving him off with a gesture that I wasn't meant to see.

"I'm sure we can find shelter for you until you can build accommodations of your own. I'm afraid you will find ours a bit cramped for your needs, but Mantown is far to the other side of the badlands. Those of your race mainly live there, or in the Nicthalene far to the south."

I felt my eyes roll upward as my head shook from side to side. "Look, I don't want accommodations, cramped or otherwise. I don't want to go to the Nickline or whatever you called it. I just want to go home. Home. Back to my own little cramped apartment with my own little cat and my own little bed. So, just put me on a bus, or call a taxi for me-or wave your magic wand if that's how things work around here-and get me out of here."

"I know not of what you speak," she said, doing her best to look puzzled. Not a bad job of it, either.

"But I do know that you can not be sent back to your world until you have done a service. It's not because I wish it this way. It's simply the way things are. The magic simply will not work unless you prove yourself worthy.

"Okay, you can be sarcastic too. Now let's get down to business. I want to go homenow ," I said, using the tone that always closed deals for me, "and I don't want any nonsense. How dumb do you think I am?"

"That I cannot answer," she said, sounding as sad as a Miss America contestant who'd just been asked how to achieve the world piece she longed for. "I only know that if you come from the world above, then magic is the only way back."

I don't know how long my jaw hung open. However silly it sounded, she was serious. "What do you mean, 'the world above'? Look." I pointed up. Above us the sky was blue. The sun, partly covered by clouds, was already halfway through its climb toward noon.

"The world above, your world, is invisible to us, just as we are invisible to you. Once, long ago, there was free travel between the two and some of your people came here to live. Then, one of your kings tried to involve us in his war. A great Elven sandcaster named Vitalix closed the gap between the two worlds to keep us safe. Travel through is only possible at times of need, and none may return until the need is removed."

"Oh," I said, nodding. I let more than a touch of sarcasm creep into my voice. "You're an elf, then." She nodded. "And I supposehe's a dwarf?" She nodded again. I threw my hands into the air and stood up.

"And where, pray tell, are the fairies?"

"Fairies?" She blinked a few times then suddenly blushed, looking down at the ground to hide a smile.

"Oh dear. Fairies were just a little joke some of our boys cooked up one day. The wings were just some leaves attached with glue. They really flew through magic." She sounded so apologetic that all I could do was stare up at the heavens and silently ask for help.

"Please sit and let me tell you why you were called here," Laurelwind said. She dusted the log with her long, flowing sleeve and the two of us sat down. "Several years ago now," she began with a deep breath and a look on her face that told me this was gonna be a long story, "a man of your world stumbled intoours, just as you have. He was a tailor named Steinberg. We'd had no prophecy to predict his arrival and so we scried to see just what our need for him was. Oh, many goats and chickens were sacrificed as we checked and double-checked, but all answers were the same. Steinberg the tailor would sire a man child who would become a great king of men, and one day, this child would lead us all to greatness. Poor Steinberg. He was not happy here. He told us much of the place whence he came. A great metropolis.

So great that even our crystal cities and the great gold and marble mines of the dwarves could not match it's grandeur. Oh, to one day see such a place! My thoughts are of thee, oh Newark," she said bowing her head reverentially. Heaven help me, I actually patted her hand.

"Steinberg moved into the Nicthalene, but so few are the human women there, and most of those already taken to wive, he could not find anyone to love. Eventually, he grew so lonely that he decided to make the long journey to Mantown. I suspect he thought his luck would fare better there. Leaving naught but a note behind, he left his home one morning, a pack of goods on his back. We might never have known any more of him, but when he reached the Kra Dunah Di, the dwarves living there took him in. They fed him a great banquet, and clothed him in proper attire for such a journey, and unable to keep him with them, sent four of their best and bravest along to see that he came to no harm. For their sin in allowing him to pa.s.s, they have been banished from their mountain home until he is restored to us." A tear dripped slowly and gracefully down her face, but she sniffed and went on.

"The badlands are a dangerous place. The home of dragons. Dragons are kept out of these lands east and south of the mountains by a powerful spell, but in their own lands they reign supreme. How the party thought to pa.s.s those lands, I'll never know. It was a great fire dragon, the largest and fiercest of all, that came upon them. Steinberg he took prisoner. The dwarves fought bravely, but three of them were killed.

The fourth he spared with a message. The dragon wished to meet a man at the Spider Bridge in the mines. Together they would duel in single combat. If he lost, we would get our Steinberg back. If he won, we would cede the dragons all the lands southeast of the mountains, and all the humans and animals therein would be fair game. We would retain all the northern lands, of course. It was just as this message was delivered that the sky split with a great stroke of lightning, and meteors filled the sky. Other omens too, foretold your coming."

"I amnot a man," I told her, belaboring the obvious.

"But in your tongue man is used for any human, is it not? It was only in our interpretation of the dragon's word 'man' that we were fooled. So, before I can send you home, you must meet this dragon, Bloodsport, his name is, meet him in single combat," she said.

That stopped me. I don't think I even took a breath for several minutes. Me fight a dragon? What on earth could she be thinking? I simply stared at her. Finally, I sighed.

"Me, fight a dragon?" I said. "What on earth could you be thinking?"

"But you are called 'Dragonslayer', are you not? I saw it in the signs. The stars never get such things wrong." Everyone was looking at me expectantly. Boy, were they gonna be disappointed! Not as disappointed as I was, though. I had a feeling I was gonna be here a long time.

"Um . . ." I said, then, "err . . ." I noticed that she blinked a lot. It made her look rather vapid. "Well . . ."

I went on. "Yes, and then again, no."

"Well, have you killed a dragon or haven't you?" she asked, getting right to the heart of the matter.

"You mean adragon dragon . . . big as a house, scales, huge wings, breathes fire, that kinda thing?" Iasked. This had to be the most ridiculous conversation I'd ever had in my life. She had the nerve to look confused. "I'm not even sure I believe thereare such things as dragons," I said to break the stalemate.

"Oh," she said. She looked bleak. "There are such things as dragons, m'lady.

"Even so, what makes you think this Steinberg guy is still alive? Why wouldn't the dragon simply eat him, then whether you send someone to fight or not, it's all the same thing?" I asked, trying to be reasonable.

"Never!" she answered, shocked. "Dragons are perhaps the most honorable creatures that ever lived.

Far more concerned with honor than men are, or even elves."

"Kidnapping is honorable? Killing people and taking their homes, that's honorable?" I asked.