For Love of Evil (42 page)

But she knew about the prophecy. She would be on guard against him. How could he lay that wariness to rest?

He considered one approach, and another, and others. Finally he worked out what he felt would be most likely to persuade her. What a bold scenario it was!

She feared the prospect of marriage to Satan. Therefore he would stage that marriage-and rescue her from it. Thus the lie would preserve her from the reality, and perhaps the lie could win her love.

He scripted the illusion carefully. Everything had to be just right. She had to be made to believe the lie. But whom would she believe? Not a demon from Hell, certainly! No honest person would cooperate in telling her the necessary lie. How could he develop a cast of characters that would do his bidding yet be believable to her?

By emulating the ones she trusted! The other Incarnations! With the true Incarnations bound not to interfere in any way, he could arrange to emulate them, and sugarcoat the lie. What a phenomenal total lie he was developing!

He summoned those damned souls who had talent in acting and who desired the favor of the Lord of Evil. He drilled them in the characters they were to portray, so that they could almost believe they were those folk. He rehearsed them in the script, and adjusted and refined it constantly, perfecting it. The first lie was about to be perpetrated.

When Orb returned to the Llano region of North America Parry was ready. He watched the big fish swim low and open his mouth to let the woman out. Orb walked across the plain, seeking her song. Now was the time!

The first actor went onstage. She formed into the semblance of a spider, and the spider grew until it became the likeness of Niobe in her current form.

"Mother!" Orb cried, and hugged her. "Luna said you had become Lachesis."

"True. Now we must talk." The emulation was doing very well; Orb appeared to have no suspicion.

"Did Luna tell you about my quest for the Llano? I am getting closer. I can change the weather, and I can even use it to travel across the world in an instant!"

"Yes, my dear. The Llano is the most potent theme of this realm." That was technically true, but it was a lie because it was a false image telling it, for reason other than that presented. The best lies incorporated truth, so that they were convincing. "But there is danger you may not have anticipated. Do you remember the prophecy?"

"That I might many Evil! But Mother, you know I would never associate with Satan, let alone marry him!"

"But he is the master of deception." Another truth, setting up another lie. "Satan has set a trap for you. He means to complete the prophecy and marry you, regardless of your will."

"But he can't-"

"He means to use the Llano against you." Truth again- and its companion lie. "He will stun your will and make you his love-slave. You must be on guard!"

Orb was appalled. She would not have believed this if any but her mother had said it. What an elegant lie it was! "How can I escape?"

"I will send Gaea to you. Listen to her. Orb!" Then the actor resumed spider form, and disappeared.

Beautiful! That actress deserved a commendation. Parry had found himself almost believing it was Niobe. He regretted only that no wider audience could appreciate the intricacy and craftsmanship of the pattern of lies. There was art in lying, and not merely in that form of it termed "fiction."
 
Next he sent the emulation of the Incarnation of Nature. She formed out of mist, in the likeness of the real one.

"I am Gaea. Lachesis asked me to show you how to nullify the Llano when it is used against you. You can only do that with another aspect of itself. But there is risk. If you try the counter, and fail, you will suffer eternal madness." There was the lie, akin to the one by which he controlled demons.

"I'll risk it!" Orb said.

The fake Gaea then explained that the countertheme was a duet that had to be sung with another person: a man named Natasha, who was the finest mortal singer apart from herself. The actress did not explain that this was a monstrous half-truth, for Natasha was simply the words Ah, Satan merged and spelled backward; it was the immortal Incarnation Satan who was the fine singer. He had set it up this way so that he could show, when the time for truth came, that he had never completely deceived her, but had given her a potent hint as to his nature from the outset. That might make her feel at least partially at fault in her own eyes, and perhaps dispose her toward accepting him.

For the lying was the easier part of this; holding her after the time of truth was the harder part.

Orb took the bait. "This Natasha-what kind of man is he?"

"The best of men. But he may take your rendition of an aspect of the Llano as a trap of Satan's." Nicely turning the lie on its head. Now Orb would have to try to reassure Natasha that she was not an agent of Evil!

Gaea wrote out the music and gave it to Orb. Then she departed, while Orb read the music and praticed it without actually singing it, heeding the warning of its danger.

Now for the main scene. Parry crafted one of his finest illusions: a complete demonic church. In it was a damned soul mocked up to resemble the popular image of Satan: red, horned, with a tail, and clothed in flames. This scene formed around Orb, incorporating her.

"Now you will marry Me!" the fake Satan proclaimed.

"Never!" Orb cried, marvelously true to form. It was almost as though she were another actor from Hell.

The actor sang. Actually it was a recording of Parry's voice, for no other entity could perform this part of it well enough to fool a musician such as Orb.

Orb seemed stunned. Now he added the second voice, in effect singing a duet with himself. The doubled song carried phenomenal impact; it was a variant of the theme he had used to pacify demons, enhanced by the power of the Llano. The actor changed clothing magically and gestured to Orb to join him at the altar. He took her hand, leading into the ceremony.

Desperately, she sang the theme she had just learned, but it was new to her, and she was frightened, and so it lacked full effect. She tried to wrench away, but her song alone was not sufficient to free her. Gaea had carefully established that! The ceremony continued, with the demon priest readying the knife that would mingle the actor's blood with Orb's and make them one.

Orb came to the first break in her song. Now she needed the companion song, to form her own duet, or suffer madness. It seemed she had really swallowed that lie.

Now, before she could discover its falsity. Parry stepped into his own role. He conjured himself at a distance, and became Natasha: his normal human physical appearance, as it had been set from the outset of his tenure in office. Orb had never seen him; she would not recognize him. That was one of the most delicious aspects of it: any other Incarnation would have known him immediately. He sang the companion theme.

It was effective, of course; it was scripted to be. He sang; she sang. Now her voice gained strength and clarity. And what a voice it was! She was truly the finest singer of the age, a suitable match for his own ability. Slowly they came together, vanquishing the Satan figure, freeing her from the forced marriage. Her worst fear had been evoked, and blunted, thanks to Natasha. The demonic church faded out, leaving only an opea field.

They stopped singing. "You play a dangerous game," Parry said, as if this were a minor matter. But it was all he could do to remember the script; her voice had profoundly moved him, and this was not as it should be, because it was his vision.

He saw her assessing him. Women paid less attention to appearance than men did, but were affected by it. He knew he was a handsome man. They conversed, and he established the lie of his identity as a mortal singer. They talked about the Llano, and he taught her the ready counter to Satan's use of it. What a joy it was, to sing for an audience who could truly appreciate his skill!

Then, having suitably impressed her, he broached the subject that would be on any man's mind at this stage.

"I am unmarried," Orb replied, flushing prettily. Oh, what a woman she was, with her delightful naivete almost intact! Again he thought of Jolie, as she had been before death made her cynical. But in fairness he had to admit that Orb was the lovelier of the two.

"May I court you?" This was a very quick progression, but it was important to catch her in the flush of her emotion, in the hour of her gratefulness to him.

It was easy to read the play of emotions that passed through her. Then she said, breathlessly, "You may."

Success, for the first key stage! She was receptive.

Then he sang her the Song of Awakening, which was also known as the Song of the Morning, or the Dawning of Love. As he sang, its magic manifested, requiring no Grafting of illusion on his part; this much was genuine. The scene darkened, then brightened into sunrise, bringing the sprouting of grass and the flowering of bushes. A ray of sunlight came down to illuminate Orb, making her so lovely that he hardly dared gaze at her. Her eyes seemed as great and bright as the welkin, translucently gray with a hint of greenery reflected, and her bosom heaved with the excitement of her response. Niobe had been beautiful, but had left the office and aged; Orb, as Gaea, would remain forever as radiant as she was at this moment.

Then it ended, as it had to. He was surely as regretful as she. Almost, he could believe what he was telling her.

She stood. "I will see you again," she said.

"Certainly." He watched her walk back toward the big fish.

The first vision had played out almost perfectly. Parry was elated. He had taken a giant step toward winning her.

He conjured himself to Hell. Soon he would organize for the second vision. But first he wanted to rest.

Nefertiti showed up. "I fear you are lonely, now that Lilah is gone," she said.

Parry did not have the heart to tell her that his interest in both demonesses and damned souls had diminished. "I thank you for the thought, but you have earned your vacation and I want you to enjoy it to the full."

"Oh. Thank you. Lord Satan," she said, not entirely pleased at this dismissal.

When he closed his eyes. Orb was there, her honey hair flowing down about her shoulders, a half-smile on her face and that quaint small harp beside her.

He sprang the second vision on them when Jonah was swimming over the Pacific at night. The big fish could not handle water, but there was plenty of air above the ocean and the weather was clear, so it was all right. Jonah would give any bad weather a wide berth.

The vision played upon the party's awareness that a storm would be trouble for Jonah, because he could not escape it by swimming underground. Not while he was far from land. The vision included the human members of the party, but excluded the fish and the succubus, because demons were not subject to dreams and would know it for what it was. In reality, Jonah continued an uneventful swim through the air, but in the vision he encountered an expanding storm that encircled and trapped him.

The script had the fish sinking down to the surface of the sea, resting on it, unable to enter it. Jonah was helped to adapt by the singing of the group, as they essayed an imperfect rendition of the Song of Awakening.

Then the heavier element came. Skeletons danced across the surface of the water, approaching the fish. The fish, in the vision, was afraid of them, and tried to paddle away, but was surrounded. One of the dancing skeletons touched a fluke, and that part of the tail of the fish lost its flesh and became skeletal.

Horrified, perceiving the way of it. Orb did her best to halt the skeletons by singing. This was not enough.

Then Jezebel, who was not the real one but one of Hell's minions masquerading as her, introduced them to the key: the skeletons were dancing a jig called "The Drunken Sailor's Hornpipe." They did not seem to be distracted when Jezebel tried it, but then Orb tried a dance, the tanana, and danced with the nearest skeleton until it fell apart. She had found a way!

Parry, watching, was amazed. That dance was the most suggestive thing he had ever seen! How had a nice girl like her learned that? Then he remembered her association with the Gypsies. That was the sort of thing the Gypsies would have taught her. He was glad he had saved them from the holocaust.

But it was not enough. The script tightened about them. There were too many skeletons, pressing too closely. If Orb responded appropriately . . .

She did. "Natasha!" she called in desperation.

Parry made his grand entrance, singing. The skeletons paused, hearing. He joined the party, while the skeletons hesitated, afraid of the power of his song. He was rather proud of the manner he had crafted the bones to evince living emotions.

Orb was obviously glad to see him. "Can you stop them?"

"With the Song of Power," he said. "You may know it as the Song of Day." He sang it, and it was another aspect of the Llano, whose sheer power shook the night vision. The melody banished the storm cloud and brought the light of day. The skeletons tried to flee, but the sound caught them and shattered them. The threat had been abated.

Orb flung her arms around him and kissed him. "You rescued me again!" she cried.

"It was my pleasure." It certainly was! But the vision was only half done.