"Back!" Shea shouted. Everybody jumped aside, and the sparrow shot through the window with a monster right behind it, half dragon and half Monkey.
The bird arrowed straight for Tripitaka.
Sandy shouted and jumped after it—but before he could get there, the sparrow was growing and grasping Tripitaka, whirling him around in a circle, around and around as it turned into something tall and yellow ...
Then two Tripitakas stood there, side by side, both in saffron robes, identical to the last detail.
They all stared.
Then Monkey howled: "Master! Speak and tell us which one you are!"
"I am here!" answered both Tripitakas. "I am the true Tripitaka!" Then they both turned to each other and snapped in unison, "Be still, imposter! You know that I am the true Tripitaka!"
"How are we to tell?" Pigsy moaned.
But Chalmers pursed his lips in thought. "Monkey ... insult your Master."
Monkey's eyes lit with glee; then his face filled with apprehension, but he mastered it and sprang at the two monks, crying: "Fraud! You have told me that Virtue would make me immune to sorcery! You dared to tell me to spare the life of a villain, when it would be easier to kill him! You have lied to me, false sage!" And he swung the cudgel.
Both of the Tripitakas looked up in anger, but one of them chanted a quick rhyming couplet, and Monkey fell to the floor, howling in agony and clutching at the gold headband.
Pigsy roared in rage and fell on the other Tripitaka. Sandy was only one beat behind him.
Tripitaka looked up, astounded, then realized what had happened, and recited the counterspell. Monkey leaped to his feet with a cry of relief, then whirled toward the sorcerer.
Pigsy and Sandy had him pinned down. Monkey jumped up on his chest, swinging his cudgel up; it stretched out to its full six-foot length and began to descend ... "Stop!"
Everyone froze. Then Monkey looked up, staring in disbelief, staff still held high.
There was a glow in midair above him, almost too bright to look at, and within it was a human form— but Shea could not make out anything else, the light was so bright.
"Manjusri," Monkey whispered. "It is the god Manjusri!"
Everyone else in the room fell to their knees, bowing low.
Chalmers and Shea exchanged a quick glance, then began backing away toward the walls.
"There is more to this semblance than you know, Monkey," the god intoned with a voice like a gong. "This King of Crow-Cock was originally so good a monarch that, some years ago, Buddha sent me in the form of a man, to bring the King to the Western Paradise. The King, however, loved his wife, son, and people too much, and was not yet ready to leave his earthly life. For this reason, he had me bound and cast into the river, where I stayed for three days and nights before spirits from Heaven fetched me out. As punishment, Buddha sent my mount to assume the form of the enchanter and win his way to office as the King's Prime Minister! Now the pose is unmasked! Let my mount return to his true form!"
The body under Pigsy's and Sandy's hands shimmered and flowed like hot wax. They cried out and leaped back, staring.
The hot wax pulled itself together in a new form— and a blue lion stood before them, roaring.
"Of course!" Monkey breathed. "Manjusri's blue lion is gelded! No wonder he showed no interest in the Queen!"
The King stood, pale and trembling. "Then it was at Buddha's mandate that the enchanter threw me into the well?"
"Even so," Manjusri confirmed. "This was your punishment for seeking to drown me, Buddha's messenger. No one else has really suffered much; the Queen and the concubines have been ignored, and have had cause to complain only of his disinterest. As to the people, they have had a lean year, but none has died of starvation, and adversity has strengthened them."
The former enchanter turned and sprang into the dazzle of light, and they could all see the form of the god seated on the silhouette of the blue lion.
The King knelt, his head low. "Forgive me, Manjusri! I knew not whom I mistreated—and I was too proud to submit to the judgment of Buddha! I shall atone in asceticism and good works for the rest of my life!"
"See that you do," rang the voice of the god, "for you must now spend many years regaining the Virtue that you had when first I met you. And as for you!" A finger speared out toward Shea and Chalmers. "Barbarian wizards! You have completed the task for which Buddha kept you here! Go now where you will—go to the world to which the errant wife has fled!"
Fire shot from that finger and enveloped Shea and Chalmers, roaring all about them. They cried out in surprise and fear, but there was no pain, only a dazzle that blinded them ...
-
KNIGHT AND THE ENEMY
Holly Lisle
To L. Sprague de Camp and in memory of the late Fletcher Pratt, whose Compleat Enchanter stories were the first fantasy for grown-ups I ever read—and still some of my favorites. Without, them, I would never have considered writing fantasy.
And to Toni Weisskopf, my fairy godmother (and editor), who gave me the chance to write a Harold Shea story.
Harold Shea, tired of walking along the unchanging road, thumped down solidly on the nearest rock. He sighed and stared at the bleak landscape around him. On one side, low hills rolled to the horizon, rounded and grimly browned, dotted with clumps of dead grass and stunted trees. On the other, a flat plain sprawled, equally sere and rocky but dotted in the distance with windmills that spun slowly in the hot, sluggish breeze, as if any movement were an effort. The sun lay near the horizon, but it was obviously rising; the day could only get hotter. A steady breeze blew past, but it was already stifling and heavy with dust. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and the heavy woolen tunics from the world of Aeneid, stuck to his skin wherever they touched.
Behind him, Reed Chalmers groaned and muttered, "I don't suppose you have any idea where we might be now, do you, Harold?"
"I'd considered asking you the same question." Shea watched the dusty two-rut road that bisected the parched hills. A shimmer and a pillar of dust crept along the road out of the hills, moving closer. He felt at his side for the reassuring presence of the saber, and curled his fingers around the wire-wrapped grip inside the basket hilt. It was a good saber—a better travelling weapon even than the épée that had served him so well in previous jaunts. When forms materialized inside the nearing dust cloud, he merely smiled. After all, a man who had fought giants side by side with the god Heimdall, and bested foul enchanters in the world of the Faerie Queen, had little to fear.
"Someone's coming," he told his associate.
Chalmers, who had been watching the listless performance of the windmills, looked where Shea pointed. "Quite so," he agreed. The psychologist ducked behind a boulder. "I hope they aren't hostile. Why don't we stay out of sight—at least until we get some idea what universe we're in?"
Shea remained standing and used his hand to shade his eyes while he tried to make out details of the approaching figures. All he could make out was that there were two of them. "I hope they can tell us where to find something to eat. I'm starving."
"While I value you as a travelling companion, Harold," Chalmers huffed, "I find you lacking in prudence. Get out of sight! May I remind you that dead men have very little need for food?"
"I'd rather you didn't," Shea said, and kept his eyes on the approaching travellers. "I'll just watch from here, thanks."
"I wish you wouldn't take this attitude toward adventures," Chalmers fumed. "You refuse to consider that I am not a young man anymore, and that my contributions to this campaign must be mental, not physical."