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"I I don't know, sir. I assumed "
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"You assumed9. I should no, wait. Send him in and leave us. I'm going to get
to the bottom of this."
"As you wish, your Worship," the adept responded, then bowed to the woman on
the throne and left.
Poquah entered without disguise, looking as impassive as ever. Nothing had
ever seemed to disturb him, and he didn't appear to understand the meaning of
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fear. He bowed to the throne and to Kaladon. "I am Poquah, your Worships,
formerly in the service of the late, sainted Ruddy gore."
Here we go, Joe thought, knowing every possible meaning of fear.
"So you are Poquah," Kaladon responded. "I have heard a lot about you. How did
you enter this castle without permis-
sion?"
"But, your Worship;" I had permission," the Imir replied.
"Whose?"
The Imir pointed to the throne where Tiana sat, impassive as the fairy.
"Hers," he said.
Kaladon turned to look, and as he did, Tiana rose and started toward him...
Then two Tianas were there, side by side, walking toward him.
"Wha what trick is this?" Kaladon screamed, and Poquah watched the thin yellow
band connecting him to the real Tiana.
Watched as it wavered, moved, and seemed unable to choose between the two
absolutely identical Goddesses.
The Imir struck. It was something that even Joe could see, because he had the
same relative abilities as Tiana at this point;
although, since his soul was different, he did not have her great magical
powers.
Tiana herself seemed to frown and rock to and fro. Kaladon became suddenly
concerned with reestablishing his umbilical link, completely forgetting
Poquah, who was rapidly rewriting the magical script.
Once the link had been broken, even for a few seconds, Poquah's opening had
begun changing the rest of the pattern that bound Tiana so tightly, so that
Kaladon's link with the big woman would not rehook to her. Instead it wavered,
then at-
tached itself to the one pattern it could grab hold of Joe.
Realizing his problem, Kaladon screamed and rushed head-
long into the Imir, bowling him over onto the floor.
Tiana shook her head as if to clear it and blinked several times, as if
awakening from a strange and terrible dream. She looked around in complete
confusion, then saw the two fighting on the floor.
The yellow umbilical was attached to Joe, but it had no
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so it only tickled a little. Tiana gazed very confusedly at him, gave a gasp
at seeing herself, but did not know what to do, so she just stood there. Joe
quickly moved around to the other side of her, in the process knocking the
yellow magic band away as if it were a cobweb.
The protective spells taught him by Boquillas worked well, but the Imir was no
match for Kaladon and was quickly brought to heel. He lay there unconscious on
the floor, and Kaladon picked himself up, then looked with a snarl of
satisfaction at the twin Goddesses before him. He stretched out his hand, and
from it flowed a pattern of yellows, greens, and reds, com-
pletely covering one of them and freezing her into immobility, while the other
stared wide-eyed, then seemed to realize exactly what was going on.
"First the impostor, then the Imir," Kaladon snarled. "Here is the pattern. Do
it! I command you!"
"She would if she could, usurper, but she is only a double
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of me!" the unbound Tiana on the left said. "But thank you for the pattern!"
It shot out from her in blinding lights. Joe could only watch, unable to move
or do anything at all, but no help from him was needed. Kaladon was trapped in
the complex mass of colors and textures. They held him, froze him, and bound
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him all at once, and then they started slowly to constrict, ever slowly but
steadily, until the veins began to pop from his skin. Vessels burst under the
pressure, bathing the frozen man in his own blood and continuing to contract
until the pattern met, then dissolved, leaving a gruesome mess on the rug.
As Kaladon died, the spells binding Joe seemed to snap and then dissolve away.
He could think and move once more and he let out a loud sigh.
Poquah groaned, rolled over, and made his way to his feet.
Both Tianas just looked at him. Finally he got hold of himself, glanced over
at the pulpy mass and, for one of the very few times in his life, he gave a
slight grin. It quickly vanished when he realized it, and he turned to the two
large women standing there.
"What is this all about?" Tiana wanted to know. "I do not remember anything
since I was forced into Kaladon's pres-
ence ..." She suddenly paused. "Oh, God! It was not a dream, was it? This
strange religion, all those people..."
The Imir nodded. "Not a dream. In fact, a more humane version of the system
might be just what Husaquahr needs. I'm not at all sure that it can be
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