PART EIGHT - THE CELLARS

I

The faint daylight faded away behind me, and I paused to turn on the magic light on my belt buckle. It cast just enough light for me to see a few yards ahead. Motes in the coils of foul smoke danced in the light of the moon and stars. I pushed aside the thought that I should go back for a lantern or a magic globe and walked determinedly onward.

But my determination lasted only for a few steps. The cellars were absolutely silent except for the sound of my feet. Instead of being half a dozen yards underground, I could have been half a dozen miles. I did not even hear the dripping and scurrying sounds I had heard when last here. All I could hear was the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears.

"Maybe the demon's gone," the thought popped into my head. "In that case it's silly for me to be down here." But I dismissed the thought and continued slowly on. I might not be able to hear him, but I was pushing against a wave of evil like pushing against a headwind.

The hall turned, and I put my hand on the wall while trying to peer around the corner. The stone was wet under my hand, and the wet was stickier than water. I held my hand at the level of my waist to look at it in the faint light of the moon and stars. It was dripping red.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself onward against a terror that threatened to overwhelm me. Soon I had proceeded further than I had gone before, past the spot where the floor had been flooded. Now it was dry and ominously warm.

My knees began to tremble so hard that each step became an effort of will. My steps came slower and slower until I found I had stopped completely. The smoke made me cough, as my lungs desperately sought purer air, and the sound of my coughing seemed to echo throughout the cellars. "Where are you?" I almost shouted but bit my lip just in time.

"You know that's not the way to open a conversation with a demon," I told myself firmly. This was not a time for improvisation, for using good ideas and flashes of inspiration to cover up for a lack of preparation. If I was going to save my kingdom, I would have to be the wizard I never had been and proceed absolutely according to the rules.

But I wished I would find the demon before I lost my nerve. I made my feet start moving again. "Merciful saints," I breathed, then shook my head. The Lady Maria's soul was beyond the prayers of even the saints. Her only hope of any kind, and the only hope for the life and happiness of all the people living in the castle of Yurt, was for a negotiated compromise with the demon. And as I had reminded myself once before, the saints do not negotiate.

The corridor turned again and continued downwards. I glanced sideways at some of the rooms I was passing, afraid of what I might see in them. They no longer looked like store rooms. They looked like prison cells.

Once again, I had to keep myself from shouting, "Come out! Let's get this over with!" If the demon wanted to drive me back out of the cellars with terror, he was close to succeeding.

I stopped, trying to steady my ragged breathing. I had no idea how much further the cellars went. The absolute stillness seemed to bear me down as though under a physical weight. But barely had I thought that any noise would be better than this silence when I discovered just how wrong I was.

A cloud of bats, squeaking frantically, rushed up the corridor toward me. Their wings flapped all around my head, and I felt the brush of tiny, hairy bodies against my face. At that I would have fled, heedless of the consequences, but my foot slipped and I crashed to the floor. Here the paving stones were damp, and as I sat up I could hear for the first time the dripping of water.

The bats were gone. I stood up, rubbing my bruises. It didn't matter if I had cracked any bones, because I would soon be dead anyway. All I had to do was keep moving until the demon showed himself. Now the air was thick with scurrying noises, with unidentifiable reptilian calls, and with distant and ominous moans. Emboldened by any change from the deadly silence, I walked on as quickly as I could make my feet move.

Rats scampered down the corridor in front of me, and several times I nearly stepped on a scorpion or a snake that slithered across my path. Another cloud of bats burst out of a side room, but this time I was ready for them. But I did not like the moaning sound, and I was drawing closer to its source.

A flutter of movement caught my eye, just on the edge of my peripheral vision. I jerked around so fast I nearly lost my footing. It disappeared as I turned, but I had had a faint glimpse of an apparition with a human face.

I braced my back against the stone wall and felt more dank blood seeping through my clothes. Giant roaches scuttled by my ears. The light from my belt was very faint, but I managed, after a few panic-stricken moments, to increase the brightness momentarily.

I was standing at a widening of the corridor where many doorways opened on either side. In each doorway was a barred gate, rusted open. There was no possibility of imagining that these were store rooms. These were prison cells.

A white form moved in the cell I was facing and started toward me. It wailed as it came, with a cry that melted my bones. It was a skeleton. It rattled with every step, and its eye sockets were gleaming. I tried the two words of the Hidden Language to break an illusion, and it kept on coming.

Fingers made of dozens of tiny bones reached toward me. My arms went up over my face, and I pressed back hard against the wall, waiting for the skeleton's deathly touch.

The touch did not come. I opened my eyes again. The skeleton was gone. I did not know if it were an illusion, given voice and propelled by stronger magic than mine, or if it were a real skeleton, given life by black magic. All I knew was that the demon apparently did not intend to kill me by proxy. Either he still hoped to frighten me away, or he was saving me to kill himself.

This thought gave me the confidence to glance around at all the other barred cells. Skeletons or ghostly apparitions were in most of them. I had never known much of the history of Yurt and was unlikely now to learn more, but I remembered that, generations ago, there had been wars in the western kingdoms. These then would be manifestations of the souls of traitors, of prisoners, of men broken under torture. I shuddered as a ghostly hand passed through me, insubstantial but leaving a chill as an illusion never did. These apparitions might not be planning to kill me, but they could be drawing my soul toward hell with theirs.

I pushed away from the wall and staggered onward. Maybe I was being presumptuous, I thought, to try to save the Lady Maria's soul when she herself had willingly sold it away. Maybe I could keep the cellars locked up, since I had the only key, and talk the young count and the knights out of their mad plan to attack the "renegade wizard." Maybe, having nearly killed the king and then nearly killed us all with the dragon, the demon would now be satisfied and cause no more trouble.

But these thoughts scarcely slowed my steps. I had already had all these arguments with myself many times and had won--or lost, depending on whether or not one thought my own life worth preserving.

The dripping was steadier, and I had to step carefully, because a thin film of water was coursing over the floor. I had no idea how far I had come or how long it had been since I left the courtyard. It briefly occurred to me that I might be dead already.

The corridor turned again, and I paused, for ahead I thought I could see a light burning. Again, I barely stopped myself from calling out, "Who's there?" I knew perfectly well who was there. The floor grew warmer and drier with ever step I took, and the noxious fumes grew thicker.

I turned another corner and found myself looking into a wide chamber, at the very end of the cellars. I walked warily into the room. The walls were glowing red, and the heat was nearly unbearable. The room seemed empty.

A voice spoke behind me. "Were you looking for me?"

I made myself turn around slowly and deliberately. The demon was standing in the doorway. I was struck dumb. He was only about a foot high, bright red, and had horns and burning eyes. If he hoped to lull me into complacency by appearing small, he was mistaken. He smiled, which gave his face the final touch of absolute evil.

"Greetings, Daimbert," he said in a high voice. Since everyone in the castle called me Wizard, it was extremely startling to have someone use my name again, especially a demon.

I found my voice and closed my eyes against his face so that I could concentrate on the words of the Hidden Language. "By Satan, by Beelzebub, by Lucifer and Mephistopheles," I said, as this was the correct way to begin a conversation with a demon. "I have come to offer you a bargain." I spoke rapidly, before the pervasive evil could drain from my mind the memory of the words I had to say, before I could change my mind. "In return for a soul to which you may not be fully entitled, I offer you a life."

A laugh forced me to open my eyes again. The demon was taller now, and he was not so red. "Come, Daimbert," he said in the language of men, not in the Hidden Language. "Before you say anything you may regret, shall we talk for a moment?"

"Non-binding conversation," I said, choosing the correct words of the Hidden Language carefully. I made it a demand, not a request. One is less likely to be tricked by a demon if what one says has been declared non-binding, but the Diplomatica Diabolica was very clear that one should never request anything from a demon.

"Non-binding conversation," the demon agreed formally. He had continued to grow as we spoke, and he was now the tall, gaunt-faced stranger I had first seen when we returned from the duchess's castle.

Now that it had at last begun, I was almost relieved, though rivulets of sweat were running down my face from the heat. The demon stepped into the room, conjured up two chairs with a wave of his hand, and offered one to me. "Then let us talk!"

II

"You want me out of your castle, Daimbert," said the demon conversationally, crossing his long legs. I reminded myself not to trust his friendly demeanor for a second and repeated over in my mind the phrases I had selected from the Diplomatica Diabolica.

"I myself rather like Yurt," he continued. "But I'd be willing to consider another castle. You know I won't go back to hell empty-handed if I can help it, and I presume you didn't even bring the chalk to try to capture me. Am I right? I knew you'd have too much sense even to try."

"In return for a soul to which you may not be fully entitled," I tried again, "I offer you a life."

"We're having a non-binding conversation, remember?" he said with a laugh. I could almost have borne it had it not been for the laugh. "Why do you have to be so melodramatic? Do you think anyone will appreciate it if you kill yourself senselessly? How much more sensible to move the chalk from outside the castle."

"Move the chalk," I repeated, not understanding. In a moment, I thought, my mind would go, and then he would be able to do whatever he wanted with me.

"You've seen, surely, the five piles of white stone outside the moat, forming a pentagram to keep me in the royal castle of Yurt. If you move the stones, I'll leave Yurt and never bother you again."

"But where will you go?"

"Does it matter?" he said with a wave of his hand. He fixed me with his enormous eyes. It looked as though he had tiny flames where a human should have pupils. "I'll be gone, and I won't try to capture anyone else's soul. I promise!"

I reminded myself that this was a non-binding conversation. Besides, his words were not even close to the words which, according to the Diplomatica Diabolica, would actually engage a demon.

"A demon loose in the world is too dangerous," I said. "And the Lady Maria's soul would still be forfeit."

The demon leaned forward and touched me on the knee. I had somehow expected his touch to be insubstantial, that of an apparition, but it was solid as iron and hot as fire. If he had touched my bare skin, I think it would have blistered.

"Why are you so worried about the Lady Maria?" he asked in tones of reasonableness. "If she didn't know the consequences of asking favors of a demon, she certainly should have. She may have 'imperiled' her soul by talking to me, as you might put it, but there's something you ought to know."

"What's that?" I said as he paused.

"I can see the future. Even if you romantically throw your life away for her, in two years she will commit a mortal sin so great that even the saints will turn their backs on her."

"And what's that?" I burst out.

"Are you asking for information?"

"No," I cried, adding quickly in the Hidden Language, "I seek no help or information from you!" This was too close an escape for comfort.

He fell silent for a moment, watching my face. I tried ineffectively to wipe my forehead with a wet sleeve. If he tricked me into asking for knowledge beyond that possible in the natural world, I would be well on the way to selling my own soul.

But could he be right about the Lady Maria? There was no way to know, but I had to act as though he were wrong. "You're lying," I said firmly. "I don't want to have a conversation with a lying demon."

"I'm telling the perfect truth," he said easily. "Even if you don't believe me, you certainly should realize I have the power to discover such things."

"You can't know the future, even you," I said, trying desperately to remember a fragment of a conversation I had once had with the chaplain. "Only the past is knowable and repeatable. If the future were fixed, that would deny free will."

The demon dismissed this. "If you'd rather believe a priest than someone who has actually seen what will happen-- But think, Daimbert. Even if you could 'save' the Lady Maria's soul, why throw away your life for someone you don't even particularly like?"

"I'm responsible for her and for everyone else in my kingdom," I said stubbornly, "and you imperil them all."

"But you've asked yourself the same thing, haven't you, Daimbert?"

I didn't dare answer.

The demon leaned back in his chair. "You're surprisingly obstinate," he said in a macabre parody of good-fellowship. "I gave you a good excuse with my apparitions to go back without having to meet me, but you kept coming anyway."

"I should have known all along you were here," I said. "From the moment you first broke the magic lock on my chambers, you've been teasing me, eluding me. I'm not going to let you do it any more."

The demon shrugged. "Why don't we leave for the moment the question of 'saving' a soul that will fall into mortal sin in a short time anyway. Instead, if you're determined to die, maybe you and I can agree on something that will make your final days of life more pleasant."

"I'm not agreeing to anything," I said cautiously.

"Let me offer it before you agree!" he said pleasantly.

"I came to make a different bargain!" Although I had long since despaired of my life, and my body would not stop trembling, my mind was momentarily clear. I was almost beyond terror. The demon had first tried to frighten me away before I had even reached him, I told myself, and now was trying to distract me with pointless conversation, because he knew that my bargaining position was sound.

The demon seemed to be growing again, and the chair he was sitting on with him. "Suppose I accept your bargain, Daimbert," he said, "your life for the Lady Maria's soul. That is what you're offering? Good. Now, why should you have to die today? I'd be happy to put off your death if you would."

Against my will, I felt hope surging up.

"Think what you could do if you and I just added a few details to our bargain. It would be easy enough for me to offer you whatever you want."

"I don't want anything."

He laughed again. "You know that's not true. You're just being stubborn. I know perfectly well what you want, Daimbert. You want to be a master wizard."

He had me there. I closed my eyes and clamped my jaw shut.

"Why should you and I be enemies? You and I are so similar in so many ways. We've both failed: you in being a competent wizard, and me in being an angel. You knew, didn't you, that demons are fallen angels?"

"I have nothing in common with you," I said through clenched teeth.

"You've had to get by with halfway knowledge and the occasional brilliant improvisation," the demon continued, his high voice almost gentle. "Think about it: with me working with you, you could have magic powers beyond the imaginings of any of the other students of your wizards' school, even beyond that of the teachers."

I kept my eyes closed, but a series of images raced across my unwilling mind. I could see myself returning to the school in triumph, performing magic that would stun Zahlfast and the other teachers. "No," I said to these images, and "No," I managed to say out loud. "I'm not becoming involved in black magic. I want to save the Lady Maria's soul, but I'm not going to lose my own."

"And why are you so sure about that?" asked the demon, softer than ever. "Did you ever think that you might belong to the devil already?"

At this I had to open my eyes, although I immediately wished I hadn't, for the demon smiled at my expression, and his mouth was full of dozens of razor-sharp teeth. As he grew, he looked less and less human.

"Yes, Daimbert," he said companionably. "Your soul is already 'lost.' You can't give me an argument about free will there. I know your soul, and I know the sins you have already committed."

"You're lying." I felt I was rapidly losing whatever advantage I might once have had, but there seemed no way to stop this conversation.

"Not at all. Think about it for yourself: have you always had the impossibly 'pure' mind and heart that your religion laughingly makes the condition for what it calls salvation? As long as you belong to the devil anyway, why not take advantage of it during the next two hundred years?"

I almost believed him. But the Diplomatica Diabolica made it clear how full of trickery a demon could be. I had no more competence or good ideas; all I had left was stubbornness. "No," I said again. "You wouldn't now be offering me anything for my soul if you already had it."

"So you aren't interested in the powers black magic could give you," the demon said thoughtfully. "Maybe this will interest you. I can offer you the queen."

I gasped so suddenly that my mouth was full of the evil fumes I had been trying hard not to breathe. By the time I had finished coughing, I was able to make my lips say, "No," although at the last moment they almost said, "Yes."

"But think about it!" I was thinking about it. "That head of midnight hair lying on the pillow next to yours, those emerald eyes and that smile greeting you every morning, those soft arms greeting you every night--"

"You can't know what I think!" I cried.

"And you could prolong her life to match your own. Two hundred years of bliss together! And for what? Agreeing to give up a soul you've already thrown away years ago. I'd even let the Lady Maria go."

"But--what about the king?"

"He's an old man already. He won't be a problem."

I breathed very shallowly, feeling I was choking. "You've made a mistake there, Demon. I'm not going to do anything that would hurt the king. You lost your chance that the Lady Maria gave you, to take the rest of his years from him, and you're not going to get a second chance from me."

"So wait a little while, and the problem will solve itself anyway," said the demon casually. "When he dies naturally, as you know he will within a few years, I can make sure the queen's affections turn at once toward you."

"No," I repeated, looking at the floor because I did not dare look at him. A viper was crawling near my foot but I didn't even bother to move. "I would not consider two hundred years with her as two hundred years of bliss if I knew I owed her love to you."

The demon laughed, a deep laugh now that seemed to resonate in his belly. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you liked the Lady Maria better than the queen!"

The viper moved away. I forced myself to look up again. His mention of the Lady Maria brought me back to the knowledge of why I was here in the first place. "I'm only making one bargain with you," I said. I had to drag this discussion back to the reason I had originally come, before the demon tricked me out of my soul without conceding anything, or he simply killed me with fear.

He was now more than twice as large as I was. An enormous belly hung over his knees, and he leered down at me from near the ceiling. "You can't bargain for the Lady Maria. She sold herself to the devil."

"One can always bargain with the devil," I said with as much confidence as I could. I was moving back now toward the points set out in the Diplomatica Diabolica. But I wondered how I could ever have imagined the negotiations would be straightforward.

"A soul for a soul, of course," said the demon in deep, resonant tones. "But why should the devil make any bargains for your soul when it already belongs to him?"

"I do not offer my soul," I said formally in the Hidden Language. "Besides," I added firmly, "my soul does not belong to the devil." The black despair in the pit of my stomach did not believe that, but maybe the demon did. "I offer only my life."

"A life for a soul is not a good bargain."

"It is if the soul isn't really yours to begin with!" I stopped myself. This was not the prescribed negotiating language, but I did not think I had made any serious mistakes so far. "Binding negotiations!" I remembered then to say.

The demon nodded his enormous head. He once again had grown horns.

I put my hand over my eyes, visualizing the page in the book. "First and most importantly, her intention was never evil. A soul is judged on intent, and if you took her soul you took it on the flimsiest grounds. Secondly!" as the demon seemed about to interrupt. "She may have gained some advantages for herself, but she brought no evil to anyone else."

"She nearly killed the king," said the demon with another leer.

"No, you nearly killed the king. She has never wished any harm to anyone."

The demon did not answer. Taking his silence for agreement, I pushed desperately on. "Her soul may be yours, but only on the slimmest technicality. Therefore!" I paused to make sure I had the words absolutely right before I spoke. "I have come to offer you the following bargain. You shall release the Lady Maria's soul and return at once without it to hell. Before you go, you can take my life, but my soul must be judged on its own merits."

"But I like it here in Yurt," said the demon with what would have been petulance in a smaller being.

The last of my strength gathered itself into fury. If the demon was able to delay for only a few more moments, I would throw myself at his feet and promise anything in return for my life, and he knew it. "Binding negotiations!" I cried. "You have to answer!"

"All right," he said with a slow smile. "I would be delighted to take your life. I agree."

"Formally!" I shouted as the enormous mouth opened, revealing more teeth than ever. "You must agree formally!"

The mouth closed slowly, and long flames darted from the demon's eyes. "By Satan, by Beelzebub, by Lucifer and Mephistopheles," he said finally.

This at last was the beginning of the correct terms of a binding engagement. I concentrated as hard as I could through the roaring in my ears, watching for the slightest deviant word.

"In the space of what you in the natural world call one minute, I shall return to hell, not to return to this world unless deliberately summoned by woman or man."

Joachim had told me, I reminded myself, that he thought that someone who gave his life for another would save his own soul. But I also remembered that he would have to ask the bishop to be sure in a case like this.

"I release, give up, and free the soul of the Lady Maria."

So far, so good.

"But before I go, you shall die." The demon's last semblance of a human form was going fast, but he still had a face that grinned at me. "Agreed and accepted?"

I started to speak, could not, swallowed twice, and tried again. "Agreed and accepted."

My eyes went black as the enormous mouth full of razor-sharp teeth bent toward my neck. The last thing I heard was the demon's booming voice. "See you in the afterlife, Daimbert!" The last thing I felt, even before the jaws reached me, was his iron forefinger burning against my chest. It passed effortlessly through skin, muscle, and bone, until it touched my heart, which leaped once more and was still.

III

The afterlife was wet and extremely cold. For a long time, which could have been hours and could have been months--although I expected they reckoned time differently here--there had been nothing but confusion, of colors, black, white, and red, of giant wings, of spaces in which I knew nothing and spaces in which I could hear myself screaming. But now everything was calm and completely dark.

I wondered with mild curiosity where I was. Purgatory, probably, which meant that they hadn't yet decided what to do with me. At least hell would have to be warmer than lying in purgatory in half an inch of icy water.

Very far away, I heard a door creaking. Maybe they had made up their minds. Steps were coming toward me, deliberate and slow. I turned my head stiffly, interested enough to want to know if it was an angel coming for me or the devil. To my surprise, it was carrying a candle. Somehow I had not expected them to need candles in the afterlife.

I couldn't see the angel's or devil's face behind the candle, although the fact that I couldn't keep my eyes open properly may have had much to do with it. I lay back and awaited my fate.

The candle was put down by my head. I could see its light, pink through my closed eyelids. There was a slight creak of joints as the angel or the devil knelt beside me.

He put his hand lightly over my heart, and then I could feel his hair tickle my nose as he put his ear to my mouth. He was so gentle that I decided he had to be an angel.

"Thank God," said the angel in Joachim's voice. "He is alive."

I tried to speak but managed only a faint croak. I moved one of my arms experimentally and was able slowly to reach up to feel a pair of clasped hands and a cheek wet with tears.

Joachim put his arms around me, under my shoulders, and drew me partly up and out of the water. "Can you hear me?" he asked quietly. "I've got to get you out of here."

I tried again to speak. This time I was more successful. "I thought I was dead."

"I think you were. But it's no good your coming back from the dead if you then die of pneumonia."

"Did you ever contact the bishop?" I croaked. It had been my final thought.

"Yes; I asked him to send me an answer here in Yurt, and it was here when I arrived." He tried to ease me into a sitting position. "He said that if someone lets himself be killed, even killed by a demon, for completely pure reasons, his soul will go straight to heaven."

Just my luck. Probably the only time in my entire adult life my soul would ever be completely pure, and I'd wasted my chance by coming back to life.

"But how did you get here?" I asked, realizing I had last seen him thirty miles away, in the duchess's castle.

"When you flew away, I knew at once I had to follow you. As soon as I'd sent the message to the bishop, I went to the stable and took the queen's stallion--I didn't give the stable boys a chance to argue. I was here by mid afternoon." There was a sound that would have been a chuckle from anyone else. "I've never been on a horse that went that fast. I found the drawbridge down when I arrived."

"I'd lowered it."

"I had intended to rush down into the cellars after you. But great choking clouds of yellow brimstone were billowing out, and vipers and scorpions were crawling up the stairs. It was clear that no one could walk a dozen yards into the cellars and live. I got as far as the door and couldn't go any further. I knew then the only way I could help you was through prayer.

"So I rubbed down the stallion, went to the dovecot in the south tower for the bishop's answer, and then to the chapel, and I've been there ever since."

He tried to pull me further out of the water. "Do you think you could walk if I supported you? I could probably carry you, but I'm afraid of dropping you with the floor so slippery."

"Help me up." Although all my joints ached excruciatingly, I could actually stand. I checked my throat for fang marks and my chest for a hole and found nothing. But my red velvet jacket streamed with water, now as thoroughly ruined as my new suit.

"But why did you come down now?"

"Just now, fifteen minutes ago, I felt a sudden certainty that whatever was going to happen was over. Whether the demon would go or stay, or you would live or die--and when I reached the cellars, most of the brimstone was gone."

We proceeded slowly up a long slope, out of the standing water, me half collapsed against Joachim and both his arms around me. Abruptly I stopped, and he stopped with me. "Oh, no," I said. "I've broken the agreement by coming back to life. The demon must still be here."

"Is he?" asked Joachim, very low in my ear.

I took a breath and managed to find enough words of the Hidden Language to probe for evil. There was none. When I had walked down this corridor into the cellars, the air had been so permeated with evil I had barely been able to move. Now there was nothing but abandoned store rooms whose floors flowed with icy water. I probed further. There was no evil mind in the castle, not even the oblique touch of the demon when he had been hiding from me. He was indeed gone.

"It's all right," I said, fairly complacently considering that I was now shivering so hard I had trouble speaking through chattering teeth. "I thought I'd done the negotiations right. The demon killed me and went back to hell without either the Lady Maria's soul or mine."

"Let's keep moving, then," said Joachim gently.

We staggered on to the foot of the stairs. A big silver crucifix leaned against the open cellar door. Here Joachim did have to carry me, lifting me with a grunt over his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me back to life," I gasped.

"I had nothing to do with it. The saints had mercy on you and interceded with God for a miracle."

I had my own ideas about who had enough influence with the saints to bring that about, but it was too hard to argue. Joachim carried me up the cellar stairs to the courtyard.

The sky was dark, except for some faint streaks of light in the east. Swung across Joachim's shoulder, I took as deep a breath as I could of the cold winter air.

As we came into the courtyard, I saw a swirl of faces, of people I had believed thirty miles away, and heard a sudden incoherent murmur of voices. This was all too confusing to me in my present state, so I let my eyes fall shut again. Joachim paused, and the voices were all around us.

"He's alive!" he said in a tone of command that carried over all the rest. "Now, in the name of God, step back and let us pass!"

They fell silent, and Joachim strode on, while I wondered without much curiosity what had happened.

But when we reached my chambers, he had to turn and bend down so that I could reach out and touch the magic lock with my palm to free the spell. With the demon gone, my locks should be safe after this, and I would be able to write letters without the paper being permeated with the supernatural influence of a demon who had been rummaging through my possessions.

Inside, Joachim pulled my drenched clothes off and wrapped me in blankets while he found me some pajamas. He pulled my bed close to the fire and knelt to rekindle the blaze. As I fell among the pillows, I saw that his clothes too were filthy and soaking.

"I'm afraid you've ruined your new vestments coming for me," I said. At the moment it seemed inexpressibly sad that he had done so.

But he shook his head and smiled. "I'll go change and come right back to sit with you. I want to make sure you don't develop pneumonia."

"What day is it?"

"It's dawn of New Year's day, the morning after you went to meet the demon."

"I think I'll go to sleep now," I said indistinctly, feeling warm waves of sleep breaking over me as I slowly stopped shivering. "But I think when I wake up I'm going to be very hungry."

IV

I had of course done everything wrong. I thought about this with pleasant detachment some twenty-four hours later, from what seemed a great distance, lying comfortably propped up in a warm bed with the sun pouring through my windows, eating cinnamon crullers and drinking scalding tea. My breakfast tray was decorated with holly.

Joachim had gone to celebrate morning service in the chapel, but I had managed to wake up enough to speak briefly to him before he left and to order my breakfast. Everyone, it turned out, was home again.

The first place I had gone wrong was in being too frightened for months to admit the obvious to myself, that a demon was loose in Yurt. Nothing else, not even a master wizard, could have repeatedly broken my magic locks as though they were cobwebs, or filled the cellars with such a powerful sense of evil that even a first-year wizardry student would have felt it. I should have realized at once what was happening, rather than waiting until it brought a dragon down on us.

My second mistake was going down alone to face the demon, when I could no longer ignore its presence. With the duchess's assistance, I doubtless could have persuaded the Lady Maria to stay safely inside, at least for a few days, and the knights to delay their attack. That should have given me enough time to send a message to the City, to ask for help from one of the experts in demonology. Someone else might have been able to persuade the demon to leave in return for far less than a human life. In retrospect, this had probably not been one of the "little problems" that Zahlfast had said I would have to solve on my own.

Finally, even if it was going to take a human life to return the demon to hell, I should have demanded at least a short period of grace. If I had had a day or two before what had almost been my death, I might have been able to use my own natural charms to win many more kisses from the queen.

Gwen came in at this point in my deliberations. She did not meet my eyes. "I'd like about that much again," I said, handing her the empty breakfast tray.

She took it with a little duck of the head, not with a saucy look, not even with the smile an elderly uncle might deserve. I realized she had not said anything or even looked at me directly when she brought me my food originally. She was treating me with the same reserve she showed the king.

"You can talk to me, Gwen," I said, holding onto my end of the tray until she had to look up. "I'm not so weak that I must have absolute silence."

Her eyes were very wide when they finally met mine. "Excuse me, sir, I don't want to seem rude," she said hesitantly. "But-- I never knew anyone who miraculously returned from the dead before."

I hadn't either, of course, but I saw no reason that she should treat me with awe on that account. "That has nothing to do with me personally," I said hurriedly. "It was the chaplain's prayers that worked the miracle." I realized I was as anxious as Joachim to disavow any personal merit--with the important distinction that he was wrong to do so and I was right.

"But how did you know I was dead?" I asked when she remained silent. "Were you out there in the courtyard last night--or I guess it was night before last?" She stared at me without speaking, so I smiled and said, "All right, Gwen, I'll ask you something simpler. Sit down--you can bring the chair closer than that! How about if you tell me why all of you left the duchess's castle to come back here?"

She examined one of her thumb nails with apparent fascination but spoke clearly. "We realized something was wrong when our chaplain took the queen's stallion from the duchess's stables. The stable boys couldn't stop him. They ran to tell the constable, and he told the king. Nobody could imagine why he'd done it. They asked me if I knew anything, since I had just been up for the chaplains' trays a few minutes' earlier, and when I said that you'd been with him, they realized that you were gone too."

"But how did you know we'd come back to the royal castle?" I prompted when she fell silent.

"Prince Dominic and the young count guessed it," she continued with a quick glance at me. "They said there was an 'evil wizard' here in the castle, who had summoned the dragon. And they said that you must have gone back to fight him all by yourself, even though they'd offered to help you. And the count said-- I really would just as soon not repeat it, sir."

"It's all right, Gwen. Go on."

"--he said," she paused, then went on defiantly, "he said that you would make matters with the evil wizard even worse through your 'incompetence'! I knew you weren't incompetent, sir. But they wouldn't listen to me. The count started to gather the knights at once."

"But they listened to the duchess?"

"That's right," she said in surprise. "How did you know? She told them it wasn't another wizard at all, but a demon in the cellars! She said that you and the chaplain must have gone without telling anyone because you were afraid that the knights would imperil their souls by trying to fight it without realizing what it was."

I considered this for a moment. "Did she say where the demon had come from?" I asked casually.

"Well, from hell, I assume," Gwen said in confusion and fell silent.

So the duchess had not revealed everything I had told her. With luck, no one else had guessed that demons were unlikely to appear without reason in one of the smallest of the western kingdoms. I thought very affectionately of the duchess. Someone would have to have a long and private conversation with the Lady Maria; I would ask Joachim to do so. Maria might guess her own role in bringing both the demon and the dragon to Yurt, I thought, but I did not want to say anything to her myself. Besides, matters of the soul's salvation were the chaplain's responsibility.

"It's back in hell now," I said to Gwen, who was giving me a wide-eyed stare again, "and I'm alive and still own my soul. But you haven't told me yet why you're all here."

"It was the king and queen. They said that if the two of you were fighting a demon to save their kingdom, it was their responsibility to be here with you. In the end, everyone came, though we had to leave the boar and the Christmas tree in the duchess's castle. It was late evening when we got here."

"And what happened then?" I asked when she fell silent.

She shook her head as though to shake off a strong emotion. "The castle was dark and empty, and strange--the stones were all oddly warm, and there were rats and bats and roaches all over the place--"

She gave a shiver of disgust. I nodded; I knew exactly what it had been like.

"I think the count would have gone straight into the cellars after the demon if he could have, but he couldn't even get down the stairs. There were big yellow clouds pouring out of the cellar door; the duchess's chaplain told us it was brimstone, from the demon."

I didn't know whether to admire the young count's courage or wonder at his foolhardiness--he had prudently stayed inside during the dragon's attack.

"Jon and I found our royal chaplain. He was lying in front of the altar in the chapel, and for a minute we were afraid he'd been killed! But when Jon touched him on the shoulder, he sat up suddenly--I'll never forget the way his eyes looked."

It sounded as though the castle had been an exciting place while I was dead. I was sorry to have missed it.

"He said--" Her voice dropped so low I could hardly hear it. "He said that you were dead, sir. And then he said that, in the name of Christ, we had to leave him alone to pray for you, and not to go into the cellars if we valued our immortal souls!

"Jon and I told the king and queen at once. The duchess's chaplain wanted us all to leave the castle immediately, but they said they wouldn't run away, and besides it was too dark and too cold to go anywhere else. We didn't even know if the demon was still in the cellars, or if you had been able to defeat it before it killed you, but there wasn't much we could do but wait.

"Nothing happened for most of the night. We were all too sad and frightened to go to bed. We sat in the kitchens or else went out in the courtyard to see if anything had changed. Even when the clouds of brimstone started to clear, we didn't dare do anything. Then suddenly, toward dawn, our chaplain appeared in the courtyard. He was carrying the big silver crucifix from the chapel altar, and he went right by us as though we weren't even there. When he came back from the cellars, an hour later, he was carrying you."

She fell silent, and I lay back in bed. This explained the faces and voices I had half perceived in the courtyard.

"We knew then that his prayers had been answered," she continued quietly after a moment, "and that you had been returned to life. All day yesterday, he sat with you and wouldn't tell us anything, except that thanks to God you were alive. I think the duchess may have tried to speak to him briefly, but everyone else, even the king, stayed away from your room. But this morning, before service, the chaplain stopped at the kitchens to say you were better."

Gwen suddenly jumped up. "I'm sorry to keep you talking, sir. I'll get your food right away."

"Maybe ask the cook for a cheese omelet this time, to go with the crullers," I said. "And bring another pot of tea. By the way, are you ever going to tell me what Jon gave you for Christmas?"

She shook her head, blushing, and hurried out.

Joachim came in as she was leaving, taking the door from her. "There were a lot of people at chapel service this morning," he commented.

"I'm not surprised," I said. "I'll go tomorrow myself if I can walk that far, or the next morning for sure."

He sat down on the bed next to me and gave me a long look from under his eyebrows. "Whenever you can come to chapel, I'll celebrate a special thanksgiving service for your return to life. You already look better."

"I feel better. Could you hand me the wash basin and a comb?"

I scrubbed my face, getting the last of the aura of brimstone off, and looked critically at the roots of my beard and hair while I was combing them. Three days ago, at the duchess's castle, I had seen chestnut colored roots starting to appear and had thought I would have to apply the grey dye again once I was home. But I had no dark roots now. My hair and beard were coming in white.

"But how about you?" I asked Joachim. "Haven't you let anyone else sit with me?

He shook his head. "I'm responsible for you."

"Have you even gotten any sleep in the last two days?" Several times, during the day and the night that I had slept, I had awakened, but always to see him sitting nearby, to hear his voice saying something, although I had always been asleep again before he had completed the sentence. Now his eyes looked as peaceful as I had ever seen them, but the skin was drawn tight over his cheekbones.

"A little. I dozed in your chair last night. But I didn't want to leave you."

"You should go get some rest now," I said. "I'll be all right by myself."

He stood up, yawning. "Maybe I will."

"But there's one thing I want to ask you, before Gwen comes back. Since I've already died once, with a pure heart, does that count? When I die again, will they have to assess my soul again, or will the previous assessment still stand?"

He smiled, even though I had been perfectly serious. "Maybe some day I really will understand your sense of humor. To answer your question, I don't think enough people have ever come back from the dead to make this point theologically clear. There are things that none of us will ever know on this earth. But if you're asking for my opinion, not the theologians' position, as long as you live you can do good and you can sin, and your soul will be judged accordingly."

"Or will I maybe never die again? Doesn't the Bible say that, after Lazarus was brought back to life, he became immortal?"

This time he laughed. "You're not Lazarus. Besides, that story isn't in the Bible, which only tells us that Christ raised him. It's the kind of story young priests like to tell, but it's not true. All of us are going to die, and you're not an exception."

He smiled cheerfully, as though he had just said something very comforting; and in a way he had. He went out as Gwen came in with my second breakfast.

She hurried away without a word, and when I heard a step outside a few minutes later, I assumed Joachim was returning, having forgotten something. "Come in!" I called, when the step seemed to hesitate.

My door swung open, but it was not the chaplain. It was two wizards, one in a tall red hat and the other with piercing blue eyes and an enormous white beard: Zahlfast and the Master of the wizards' school. "May we indeed come in?"

V

"Yes, yes, come in," I said, flabbergasted. I struggled to raise myself from the bed, to make the wizards the full bow, but fell back without success. "What are you two doing here?"

They entered in a stately manner, closed the door, and found chairs. "The supernatural influence is gone, I note," said Zahlfast. "We saw the remains of the dragon's carcass down by the edge of the forest as we flew in, and then your constable told us you'd overcome a demon! He took us for an escorted tour of the cellars, including the hole he said the demon made when it returned to hell."

"The hole?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

"It's at the very end of the cellars," said Zahlfast soberly, "a black hole about two feet across, and it's still smoking. When you look down, you can't see anything, only darkness so black it's almost solid, and when you drop something down, you can't hear it hit. We put a triple pentagram around it. As you know, nothing should come back up unless summoned, but it seemed to make your constable feel better, and we wanted to save you the trouble. He plans to cover everything over."

That sounded like an excellent plan to me.

"Now," said the Master, "could you tell us exactly what's been happening?"

I told them, although when I had left the City for Yurt and imagined some day telling the Master of my triumphs, I had not imagined doing so sitting up in bed in yellow pajamas. Besides, it wasn't a triumph I was describing.

"So I guess it's all right now," I finished, "even though I'll know, if it ever happens again, to get a demonology expert right away. Someone else, more expert, might have been able to negotiate a settlement with the demon without having to offer it his own life. But what are you doing here? Did the chaplain send you a message?"

"No," said Zahlfast, "we got no message, unless that was you calling a month ago. The phone rang at the school, yet there was no one on the line. When I heard about it, at first I just thought someone had called us by mistake, or was doing so for a joke, but then I remembered you and your far-seeing but inaudible telephones."

"That was me," I said. "The demon had grown bold and was teasing us by running around the castle in daylight, while the chaplain was away. It was afraid of the chaplain."

Zahlfast and the Master looked at each other, the same slightly skeptical look they had given each other when I told them Joachim had miraculously brought me back from the dead. "I want to show you these telephones, Master," said Zahlfast. He reached one of them down from their shelf and spoke the name attached to the wizards' school instrument.

This time it worked perfectly. The base lit up, as it always had, but when the tiny figure of a young wizard picked up the receiver, he could hear Zahlfast.

They spoke for several minutes. "Yes, that's right," said Zahlfast. "So we'll probably be home tomorrow or maybe the day after. No, there's no problem now."

"Congratulations, young wizard," said the Master, his frost blue eyes sparkling. "You've made an original contribution to wizardry and will probably have your name in the new edition of Ancient and Modern Necromancy. Not bad, for someone not yet thirty."

"It works!" I gasped. "I'd told the constable an anti-telephonic demonic influence was affecting my phones, and I was actually right!"

"You'll have to teach us that spell," said Zahlfast.

I thought ruefully that they seemed more impressed by my telephones than my return to life. "But what are you two doing here?" I asked, returning to my original question, wondering if I could possibly reconstruct the sequence of spells I had tried on the telephones over the past few months. "Were you just so busy it took you a month to get here after my call?"

"Well," said Zahlfast, looking surprisingly embarrassed, "at first I didn't think anything of it, though I should have realized immediately it was you asking for help. It wasn't until we heard about the dragon going over on Christmas day that I began to think there might be something seriously wrong in Yurt.

"First we got telephone calls from the wizards in courts with telephones, and then the next day the messages started coming in from the pigeon relay station. When we plotted them on a map, it became clear that the dragon had been heading for Yurt, for no one south of Yurt had seen it."

"And even then," said the Master with a chuckle, "we had an idea that you might be a competent enough wizard to handle a dragon, although we probably should have considered the likelihood of a demon as well."

"Didn't you," I said accusingly, "even for a minute, suspect that I was practicing black magic and might have brought the dragon down for my own purposes?"

Zahlfast blushed, which I had never seen him do before.

"Not at all," said the Master. "At most, one or two people had momentary doubts. Besides, we knew there was another wizard here, the retired wizard of Yurt, who could help you."

"He did help me with the dragon. I never could have killed it without him. But what do you know about the old wizard?"

"I've only met him once," said the Master, "this summer. That's when he came to the City to try to find out about you."

"He came to the City?" I cried in amazement. "You didn't tell me this, Zahlfast."

"That's because I only found out about it myself the other day."

The Master laughed. "He said when he arrived that he would talk to the head of the school or to no one, so he had to talk to me."

"But I always thought he didn't want to have anything to do with the wizards' school."

"I don't think he ever does. But he wanted to know about you. He said he'd left you sleeping among his herbs for the whole day, while he flew down to the City. Said he'd never been to the school before, hoped he'd never come there again, but he thought this was the fastest way to find out about someone he called a 'young whippersnapper.' Took me a few minutes to realize he meant you."

"So what did you tell him?" I asked, feeling highly inadequate. Once again, everyone else seemed to know my business much better than I did.

"I told him you had flair and promise, if you ever applied yourself. And from the look of the telephones, it's clear that you have. To say nothing of killing a dragon and defeating a demon, even if you nearly got yourself killed in the process."

"Did get myself killed," I corrected, but they pretended not to notice.

Zahlfast stood up. "You look tired. I think we should let you rest."

"Just don't leave Yurt yet," I said. "Most of the guest chambers are still sound, in spite of the dragon. And you'll want to try our cook's excellent holiday meals. I hear they had to leave the boar at the duchess's castle, but I'm quite sure she wouldn't have left the Christmas cookies."

"We'll stay tonight at least," said the Master. "Sleep now, and we'll talk more later."

I still did not feel strong enough to climb the chapel stairs the next morning, but the following morning, leaning on the constable's arm, I ascended by the light of my own magic lamps. The others respectfully stood aside for me and made sure I was comfortably seated in the front pew. Joachim led the thanksgiving service, and while I had good reason to be highly thankful myself, I was rather surprised to see that everyone else in the castle was also delighted to have me alive. Even Dominic smiled at me, and the queen gave me a radiant look that made my heart turn over.

The winter sun burned red through the chapel's stained glass. Listening to Joachim read from the Bible, I decided I was not worthy either of a miracle on my behalf or of the friendship of all these excellent people. When the congregation sang the final hymn, I did not trust my voice and stood silent.

Once Joachim had pronounced the final benediction, every person there, from King Haimeric down to the stable boys, came up to me. Most said a few words, of how glad and grateful they were to have me again with them, though a few just touched my arm hesitantly and turned away as though overcome with profound awe and wonder. Not daring to speak, I nodded at all of them and tried to smile.

But my foray into sentimentality was cut short by talking to Zahlfast and the Master of the school. They had ended up staying two nights in Yurt, but this morning they were ready to go, waiting only until I returned from the chapel to say goodbye. We stood by the castle gate, talking for a minute, with me well wrapped up in two coats and a muffler. The two wizards were the only people in the castle who had not been at chapel service.

"We're delighted you're feeling better," said Zahlfast briskly. "Now that your telephones are working, I hope you realize you should call us if you run into any other problems this serious. I hadn't realized you'd take my warning against calling the school for every little problem so literally!"

I nodded glumly.

"Though I must say I should have credited you with more courage than I did," Zahlfast continued. "Most wizards wouldn't have gone down alone to face a demon, even those who did a lot better on the demonology exam than I happen to know you did. I hope you aren't going to turn into one of those rash young wizards who think of themselves of indestructible."

There didn't seem to be much danger of that. I had never expected to have a second chance at life, and I knew I would never get a third.

"Just remember you're a wizard," said the old Master. "Don't start relying too much on the priests."

"This makes it all very symmetrical," I said. "The bishop is worried about my possible evil influence on the chaplain."

The two glanced at each other. "Coming close to death doesn't seem to have changed you very much," said Zahlfast.

I had noticed the same thing myself. One might have hoped that if I came back from the dead I'd come back better, but I was too happy to be back at all to care.

The old Master looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. "I hope you realize we are very glad to have you still alive. In a few weeks, after all of you here have had a chance to repair some of the damage to the castle, we'll send up some wizards from the technical division. They'll take down the details of how you put the spells on your telephones so we can start putting far-seeing attachments on other instruments."

After watching them fly away, I sat on a bench in the courtyard for a few minutes to catch my breath, wondering how soon the new edition of Ancient and Modern Necromancy would come out and what it would say about me. I hoped it wouldn't say that I had made a brilliant invention but that no one could ever duplicate it because I hadn't kept good notes. The sunlight was almost warm here in the shelter of the castle wall, even though there was still a dusting of snow on the ground, left behind by the stable boys' brooms. But in ten minutes, as soon as my strength returned enough to walk again, I went inside in search of Joachim.

He was sitting in his room, finishing breakfast. "Thank you again for interceding with the saints for me," I said, sitting down and breathing hard. "I've just been seeing off the wizards; they're on their way back to the school. But I wanted to find out if you'd spoken to the Lady Maria."

"Yes, I spoke to her yesterday. I told you I would."

When he seemed unwilling to continue, I said with an exasperated laugh, "What is this, Joachim, the secrets of the human soul that a priest can never reveal? Since I realized she'd sold her soul to the devil long before either you or she did, and then got myself killed negotiating for her soul, I should at least be able to find out what she's going to do now that her soul is safe again."

Joachim looked at me gravely a moment, then slowly started to smile. "You're right this time; but I may have difficulty explaining this to the bishop.

"She had worked much of it out for herself already," he continued after a brief pause. "So when I sent her a message to come to my room, she had a good guess what I was going to say. She seemed to have the strangest idea, however, of how to act in such a situation. She came in as though she were a naughty schoolgirl caught in some mischief."

I could have told her this would never work with Joachim. It wouldn't even work with me.

"But it all seemed to be a facade, behind which she was genuinely terrified and repentant at what she had done. Even though she kept referring to the demon as a 'little magic man,' she realized how close she had come to damning her soul for eternity. She agreed at once when I explained to her that a few years of vain youth and beauty in this world could never be worth an eternity in hell. She had also had a chance to realize that asking to 'see a dragon' was not the innocuous request she had originally imagined.

"In fact," continued Joachim, looking somewhat uncomfortable, "once she stopped pretending she thought of it as a naughty joke gone wrong, she broke down and sobbed. I was trying to impress on her the need to beg God's forgiveness, and she kept on asking if I thought you would ever forgive her."

"I hope you told her I would."

"I told her that you were not angry with her personally, that you had been willing to die to save both her and the kingdom because you were following the high purposes of God."

Joachim's black eyes were completely sober, and I began to wonder uneasily if he was going to start treating me with the awe and reserve that everyone else in the castle seemed to be demonstrating. Of course, in his case it was harder to tell. But it was no use coming back from the dead if I then spent the next two hundred years being treated like some saint. In the next few days, I would have to think of something outrageous to do to remind everyone that it was, after all, only me.

"I did warn her very sternly against further experiments with pentagrams."

"I'm sure you did," I said, "and I'm sure you imposed some suitable penance on her. You don't need to tell me about that--that really should be a matter kept secret between a sinner and her priest." I changed the subject abruptly because I did not want to talk about the Lady Maria anymore; I was just glad that he had spoken with her, so I didn't have to. "But tell me, Joachim, how do you do it?"

He lifted his eyebrows at me.

"First you saved the king's life and then you saved mine. I want to know how you do it. It can't be a very common ability. Everybody seems in awe of me for being alive, whereas they really ought to be in awe of you for having worked a miracle."

"Prayer is available to anyone," he said, more soberly than ever, "who calls on God with a contrite heart. I already told you that the saints had pity and mercy on you for your sacrifice. It had nothing to do with me."

I considered suggesting that in that case maybe I had been sent back to this world because neither heaven nor hell wanted me in the next, but decided not to. Joachim had limits.

He was still looking at me, as though in assessment. "You yourself don't seem to be taking spiritual issues as seriously as one might expect."

I was glad I had not spoken. "But I am serious," I assured him, which was true. "It's just that I'm joyful as well. Isn't someone who's come back from the dead allowed to be joyful?"

Joachim took a slow, deep breath. He had leaned his chin on his hand, so I couldn't see his mouth, but I could swear from his eyes that he was smiling.

VI

Gwen came in at that point to get Joachim's breakfast tray, and she gave a little jump, as though remembering the last time she had found us together like this.

"It's all right, Gwen," I reassured her. "Neither of us is going anywhere." She rushed back out, clutching the tray, without a word.

Since we had been interrupted anyway, I stood up to thank Joachim again and to go back to my chambers. I was still weak, and my head was beginning to ache badly. But I wanted to go to lunch with everyone else today--the cook had been sending very small meals to my room, apparently not realizing that someone who has been miraculously restored to life needs to eat a lot, and she hadn't even given me any Christmas cookies. A little nap before lunch, I thought, was just what I needed.

But as I reached for the handle to my chambers, I felt a hand on my arm and turned around to face the duchess. "Can I come in for a moment?"

"Well, my lady, I was just going to lie down--"

"I won't keep you a minute," she said, stepping inside before I could protest further. I wondered what had become of awe and respect just when I needed them. "But I'm about to go home, and I couldn't leave without finding out what really happened."

I noticed then that she was dressed for travel, in tall boots and a heavy cloak, and as she shut the door behind her I could see the stable boys starting to bring out the horses.

"If I leave now, I can celebrate Epiphany comfortably at home," she said. "The household here doesn't need any more people underfoot, now that the holidays are almost over and you're going to start repairs to the castle. Besides, my own staff will be returning from vacation, and I need to be there to explain to my cook why she can't find anything in her own kitchen and why she has five hundred pounds of boar that need immediate processing."

I stretched out on my bed and she sat beside me. "I gather you suggested to the others," I said, "that the demon had decided on its own to come live in our cellars. Thank you for doing so; I wouldn't want everybody to start suspecting each other of black magic."

"But that's why I had to talk to you," she said. "You told me that someone here had summoned a demon, and I've been wild with curiosity the last three days trying to work out who it could be."

I hesitated. Having decided that I would have to do my best from this point on to keep my soul pure, I didn't want to start lying. On the other hand, I did not want to give away the fact that the Lady Maria had heedlessly sold her soul without even realizing she was doing so. Repenting of her actions would be painful enough to her, without feeling that everyone in the castle knew her for a sinner and a fool. I was glad again that Joachim had spoken to her, instead of I.

"I talked to your chaplain right away, of course," she continued, "just after he'd brought you back from the cellars. I wanted to be sure that he knew someone here had been working with a demon. He gave me the strangest look--he's so dour, you can't tell half the time what he's thinking."

I let this slur on Joachim pass without comment.

"All he'd say was that the person who had summoned the demon had done so unintentionally, without evil purpose, and that that person's soul was now safe. So I've had to work it out for myself. I remembered that King Haimeric first became ill within a year of his marriage, about the same time his old chaplain died. So my first thought was that the new royal chaplain must have been responsible. But then I realized that since he'd been able first to heal the king and then bring you back to life, he couldn't possibly be in league with the devil."

I was interested to see how the duchess's reasoning had paralleled my own. It had taken her much less time than it had taken me, but then she had had the advantage of knowing from the beginning that there was a demon involved.

"So I started thinking who else it might be, and it didn't take me long to realize that it had to be the queen!"

"No!" I said involuntarily.

The duchess looked at me appraisingly. "Not my cousin, eh? You're certainly quick enough to defend her." I wondered how much she guessed of my feelings for the queen. "But the problems all started not long after she moved to Yurt. And it occurred to me that the demon might not have summoned the dragon all by itself, but rather that someone here might have been silly enough to think that a dragon would be fun. She's become more level-headed since becoming queen, I'll give her that, but she always did do just what she wanted to do."

She paused and looked thoughtfully out the window. Then slowly she started to smile, as though seeing something that made everything clear. "Of course! It wasn't the queen at all. I should have realized at once! It was the Lady Maria."

I didn't answer, but the duchess took my silence for assent. "Good. I couldn't have gone home without knowing. Don't worry--I won't say anything to Maria, or to anyone else. At least I can be sure, knowing her, that she didn't do it out of evil intent. It was only because she didn't know any better!"

The duchess slapped her knees in satisfaction. "Now I'll leave you alone, as soon as you tell me one more thing. Did the demon kill you while you were fighting with it, or did you have to offer it your life to save Maria?"

There didn't seem to be any way to get rid of her without answering. "You can't fight demons, my lady," I said. "All you can do is negotiate."

She stood up. "Now I really will let you rest. It looks like my knights and chaplain are ready to go. But you ever decide you'd rather be ducal wizard than stay on here, let me know immediately."

The door slammed behind her as she left, and in a minute I could hear a clatter of hoofs and farewells being called as the duchess's party left.

But just as I was fluffing my pillows to settle down properly, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," I said wearily. At this point more awe and respect seemed highly desirable.

My door opened to admit the Lady Maria.

Except for my white silk shawl, she was dressed entirely in black. I remembered now that she had been in black for church service. She was not a naughty schoolgirl now, but rather a melancholy and penitent matron, looking back in sorrow at a life ill-led. Her golden hair was pulled tight into a severe bun; there were quite a few grey hairs at the temples.

But even though I was sure she had enjoyed picking out a suitably repentant outfit to wear, there were quite genuine tears at the corners of her eyes. She sat down next to my bed, pulling off her black gloves, apparently unable to speak at once. I sat up, rubbing my aching forehead with my knuckles, and waited.

"I wanted," she said at last, a catch in her voice, "I wanted to thank you, and I wanted to ask if you could ever forgive me."

"Certainly I forgive you," I said, speaking very seriously and holding her eyes. "I didn't go to deal with the demon either hoping for thanks from anyone or feeling the need to forgive anyone. I went because it was my duty as a wizard."

It sounded horribly self-righteous in my own ears, but it seemed to be what she wanted to hear. It was also true. She wiped her eyes with a black-trimmed handkerchief and attempted a smile. "Then you and I can still be friends?"

"Of course we can." With any luck I could have her out of here in a few more minutes.

But she had much more on her mind. "Then if you're my friend," she said intently, "I need you to tell me something. Are they-- Is everyone-- Is everyone laughing at me?"

"Laughing at you?" She was entirely serious.

"Maybe it's just part of the penance I need to bear, but I have to know! Is everybody chuckling behind my back at the silly Lady Maria, who didn't even recognize a demon when she summoned one, and who happily sold her soul just so she could act girlish for a few more years?"

"Certainly not," I said without hesitation. Joachim did indeed seem to have explained matters to her most clearly. "The chaplain and I are the only people in the castle who know that you summoned the demon, that it didn't just appear in Yurt by itself." I told my conscience that this was, strictly speaking, true; the duchess was by now well out of the castle.

"Then you didn't have to tell the king and queen--"

Dominic, I remembered, had known all along that she had summoned the demon originally, even though he had not wanted to give her away, and even though he did not realize the demon had broken out of the pentagram that he and the old wizard had drawn to imprison it. But since he was highly unlikely to say something now, I felt safe in not mentioning him. So much for my pure soul!

"I didn't say a word to the king and queen about you. Everyone was just too delighted to have the demon sent back to hell to worry very much about how it got here in the first place."

The tears appeared at the corners of her blue eyes again. I pretended to be looking out my window; I had quite a nice view of much of the courtyard. If the Lady Maria had been standing in a doorway, waiting for the duchess to leave before she came to talk to me, the duchess would have had no trouble spotting her. Perhaps her clever guess had not been as clever as I had thought.

"I tried to explain something to the chaplain," Maria said after a moment, bringing out the black-trimmed handkerchief again, "but I think he's too high-minded to understand something so foolish, so I'd like to try to tell you instead."

Oh, well, I thought. It was too late to become awe-inspiring anyway.

"Of course it was silly to want to be young again--even I knew that. But it was fun--fun to think about what I might do if I were to be young, even more fun actually to find myself growing younger. Of course, Yurt doesn't offer much scope, but when the queen and I went to the City I was able to go to the dances as a participant, not as a chaperone. I had more fun three winters ago at the City balls than I've ever had before or since in my life! And then you came to Yurt."

"I?"

"Of course you, my gallant knight! Not that I had any real intention of making you fall in love with me!" she added hastily, as an expression I tried to suppress must still have appeared on my face. "I knew wizards never marry, and you knew that I was quite a bit older, even though I liked to imagine we looked about the same age."

Apparently the grey beard had fooled no one at any time. Maybe I could do better now that my beard was coming in white.

"And then, of course, it quickly became clear that you had given your heart to my niece. But still I--"

I interrupted her. "You knew I was in love with the queen? Was it that obvious? Does everybody in Yurt know?"

She looked at me with her head cocked to one side, then a surprising and quite genuine smile appeared on her face. "You're as worried about everybody laughing behind your back as I am!"

"I'm afraid so, my lady," I said ruefully. "But do they all know?"

She gave a tinkling little laugh. At least I had been able to cheer her up. "No, they don't all know. Certainly my niece has no idea--she's never had eyes for anyone but Haimeric. And I don't think anyone else has guessed, either. There are advantages of being single and forty-eight--one has had plenty of practice in spotting both romance and unrequited love."

I said nothing but felt very sheepish.

Maria returned to her thread, much more cheerfully. "Even though I knew you would never fall in love with me, I truly enjoyed the opportunity of having someone to flirt with, and of looking young enough that my flirtations would not simply seem pathetic. I've been in Yurt for four years now, and I presume I'll live here for the rest of my life, and I'm not going to get very many more opportunities for maidenly amusements.

"I know it was wrong to deal with a demon, even if I didn't realize then that that was what I was doing. And I know it was wrong, as the chaplain told me in great detail, to want to get extra years rather than being profoundly grateful for those years God does give us. But--maybe you can tell me--it's not wrong, is it, just to want to have fun sometimes?"

I took both her hands in mine. It was no use referring her back to Joachim on this issue. "Maria, I've always been extremely fond of you, ever since I came to Yurt, and, no, it's not wrong sometimes to want to have fun."

She smiled rather complacently. "I knew you liked me. I knew you didn't just think of me as a silly old woman. Otherwise you wouldn't have let me help with your telephones, wouldn't have tried to teach me that hard old Hidden Language, wouldn't have given me this beautiful shawl for Christmas, and wouldn't have been willing to lay down your life for me."

I kept hold of her hands and looked deeply into her eyes as I spoke. I wanted to make sure that she understood exactly what I was saying, that she recognized my genuine sympathy while having absolutely no seeds of possible future romance planted in her mind.

"You're right that I'm in love with the queen, even though I know perfectly well she'll never look at me, and you're right that wizards never marry anyway. But I hope that you and I can continue to be good friends over the years. After all, I'm going to be living in Yurt too, and I like to have fun sometimes myself."

"I will try to act more mature and wise," she said thoughtfully. "In fact, I may not have to try very hard. Coming this close to losing my soul has made me--well, think about things I never used to worry about. I think I'll start going to chapel every day."

I remembered the demon saying that in two years she would fall into horrible and mortal sin. Even in the cellars, it had seemed a probable lie. Sitting in my warm room, I wondered how I could have even half-believed it.

"If you notice me falling into sin again," she said, "do let me know."

"I will if I notice," I said, sitting back and releasing her hands. "But this time I had no inkling, until just a few days ago. I suspected almost everybody in the castle at one time or another of working black magic, but I never suspected you."

I smiled then and stood up. As I hoped, she stood up too. "Over the months to come, some people in the castle might wonder if you had something to do with the dragon, but no one will ever suspect you of evil intent. You're just going to be the mature, wise--though fun-loving--Lady Maria."

I bent to give her cheek a very chaste kiss and opened the door for her. She waved with her black-trimmed handkerchief as she hurried away.

I turned back to my room, reaching for my curtain to draw it shut so I could take a nap at last, but instead I stood at the window for several minutes, looking after her even when she was out of sight.

THE END

Okay, you discovered the secret free version of "A Bad Spell in Yurt" and read it. Hope you enjoyed it! If so, you'll want to continue the series with "The Wood Nymph and the Cranky Saint." Now you're going to have to start actually buying it. It's for sale as an ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and iTunes. You've obviously got a computer (even if you don't have a Kindle, Nook, Kobo reader, or iPad), and all of these sellers will let you download free software so you can read their books on your computer. No excuses! And you might as well buy "A Bad Spell" while you're at it--the straight html version here isn't all that pleasant to read, and you know you want to read it again. Or, even better, get "My First Kingdom," the omnibus of the first three Yurt novels, at a special 3-for-the-price-of-2.

Don't bother trying to get "Wood Nymph" from one of the pirate sites. Sure, they have it for "free," or so they say, but some of the sites will give you malware along with the download, others will ask for your credit card "just for verification" and then go on a shopping spree with it, and all of them are built on the assumption that property theft is good.

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