“What did the news say, Papa? Was it happening all over, or just in our neighborhood?”
“All over, Matthew… in all the big cities. The police were delighted at first, because the gangs stopped fighting, and there were fewer muggings. Then the robberies began to increase again, and the police were worse off than ever, because the citizens once again began to live in fear.”
“And they wonder why people move to the suburbs!” Matt shook his head.
Papa glanced at Luco. The trembling had stopped now. His stare was vacant, and his lips were parted in an idiotic grin.
“We must watch him,” Papa said. “So, Matthew. This drug, you think you can neutralize it completely?”
“Sure, same as you did,” Matt said, “but so can Groldor. As soon as the fix stops fixing, he’ll figure out what went wrong and sing the counter-enchantment.”
Papa frowned. “So you say we must immobilize this Groldor before we disenchant the drug?”
“Only sensible thing to do.”
“Will not Nirobus merely send another sorcerer? Or promote one of Groldor’s henchmen?”
“I think the henchmen are just local thugs, hired on,” Matt said slowly, “and sure, Nirobus will send a replacement, but it will take him a while to find one. He may even have to train one. I could be wrong… he could have a dozen sorcerers waiting in reserve… but I think the only ones he has are already assigned and on duty, one in New Jersey, one with the besiegers at Bordestang, and the rest with the Mahdi and his army.”
“Have you reason for thinking this?”
“Only intuition.”
“And intuition is not to be lightly dismissed, even in our home universe, and even less here,” Papa said.
“In any case, we must go home to deal with this Groldor, must we not?”
Matt swallowed, feeling the fear rise. The thought of facing a drug lord with his private army was bad enough, but to have to do it in a universe where he didn’t have his magic to protect him…
Then he remembered that a few spells had sort of worked in New Jersey, and that Nirobus had to keep the magic channel open. He should be able to figure out how to draw on Merovence’s natural forces to make magic work in New Jersey, and if any place ever needed it…
“Yes, Papa. We have to go home.”
Saul had to admit he could look pretty scary when he wanted, and he really wanted to now. When Beidizam awoke, he saw a bearded, longhaired, blade nosed face hovering over him with a gloating grin, lit only by the flickering flames from a brazier below it. The sorcerer stared, frozen with fear for a moment, then turned purple with rage, gargling curses through his gag. His arms lurched and spasmed, trying to gesture… but they were tied securely behind him. “I don’t like men who harass women.” But Saul’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “I love seeing them punished, though.”
Beidizam froze at the leashed mayhem in Saul’s eyes. The Witch Doctor lifted a poker from the brazier, it glowed cherry red Saul spat on it, listened to the hiss, then shook his head with regret “Not hot enough yet.”
He stuck it back into the coals and turned to the appalled sorcerer, saying, “You see, we have a few questions that need answering. Not that we mean to hurt you, of course… at least, nothing permanent we hope unless it’s absolutely necessary, of course.”
He slid a hand under Beidizam’s robe and squeezed his leg, gently but in exactly the right place. The sorcerer went rigid, cawing with pain. Saul let up instantly, but explained, “That was very gentle… just a demonstration. If I’d really clamped down, you would have been in agony for hours, even after I let go. The ancient Greeks and the modern Arabs have learned a lot about anatomy, but the people farther East know a lot more… at least, in some respects.”
Beidizam bleated incoherent protests through his gag. “I know, that’s pretty crude… just main force, no magic to it.” Saul picked up a thick piece of rope. “This one’s a bit more subtle.” He began to recite nonsense syllables in a sonorous chant, making sure it had both meter and rhyme, as he slowly and carefully began to tie a series of knots in the length of cable. Beidizam’s eyes bulged, he knew the spell, or one much like it. He howled frightened protests through his gag, struggling furiously against his bonds. “Oh, don’t worry,” Saul told him. “This won’t hurt a bit… not me, anyway.”
The door opened, letting sunlight into the chamber, and Mama cried, “Witch Doctor! What do you do? You are a healer, not a destroyer!”
“Well, there’s some truth in that,” Saul allowed, “but nobody knows how to hurt so well as a healer, so…
“No!” Mama stepped up and snatched the rope from his hands. “This man may have sought to dishonor me, but he is a man, after all, not a beast!”
“You’re entitled to your own opinion,” Saul said stiffly.
“Leave torture to they who seek to advance the cause of evil!”
“Just a little one,” Saul pleaded.
Beidizam howled as the muscles in all ten toes suddenly knotted. “That is unworthy of you!” Mama scolded Saul. “We persuade, we do not torture!” She pushed him aside and sat on the hard cot, yanking off Beidizam’s shoes and massaging his toes while she sang in Spanish… a lullaby, a soothing tune.
Beidizam groaned with relief and Saul, standing against the wall, glowered with irritation. “I must apologize for my friend,” Mama said “He was perhaps even more incensed by your overtures than I was.” After all, Beidizam didn’t know who had knocked him out… let him believe it was Saul. “Do not think that I do not appreciate the compliment.” Mama smiled, projecting the image of the demure maiden blushing with pleasure at flattery. “But I spoke truly in telling you of the loyalty of Frankish women, a loyalty that any Muslim would treasure in his own wives. I must remain true to my marriage vows, after all, as my religion requires… by my hope of Heaven, I must! With that Faith to strengthen me, I will keep faith with my husband through all trials. I would not betray him even if I wanted to.” She smiled, letting Beidizam glimpse all the tenderness and desire that thoughts of Ramon could evoke in her. “But I do not want to, because I do love my husband, am more in love with him than when first we wed.”
Beidizam gazed at her, spellbound… literally He couldn’t know the Spanish of her universe, couldn’t know that the song she had sung while she massaged his cramps was really a spell that would transmute his lust into awe… not love, but making him look on her as though she were a statue on a pedestal.
“Come, let me free your mouth… you must be parched.” Mama bent forward to untie his gag. Her nearness made him shiver, but as the gag came away, he turned on his side, coughing, working his mouth. All sympathy, Mama held out a goblet. He sipped, then remembered that he was in the house of his enemy and muttered a charm as he gazed into the wine. “It will not change color,” Mama assured him. “There is no drug in it, no poison. That would be rude treatment indeed for a guest! And our guest you shall be, for I shall see you housed and served according to your station, as soon as you are recovered from Saul’s harshness.” She glanced up at Saul, irritated. “It was most unkind of you, really!”
“I am covered with rue,” Saul said, all repentance.
“He is overly concerned for my safety,” Mama explained, “and was overcome with anger, that is why he acted so rashly.” Then she frowned “But it must be extremely wearying, coming so far to assault a town that is no threat to you! He must be quite a villain who set you to the task.”
Beidizam stiffened “Our Mahdi is no villain!”