Larae had been changed the most, although again it had only exaggerated what was already there. She really couldn't figure out what she was going to do now. "In effect, I am a halfling, like her, now," she noted, pointing to Alvi. "The thing is, I don't really mind it, not anymore. I talked to her a little, and she had gotten to that same point, what with playacting for a long time, then getting sick of pretending and just being whatever she was. I am tired of it, too. It is just — God! I am getting turned on, and this time I can really feel it! That is my tragedy, Irving, in the end. I am in love with you. Very much so. Enough so that I can understand why you cannot feel the same about me."
He sighed. "When I watched you go after that idol, to risk that much, swing out, hanging by your feet, and snag that thing, couldn't begin to tell you what I felt. Truth is, I do love you, but it's got to be what they call star-crossed lovers. I want you, but I need Marge — or, rather, what Marge used to be. I don't think she'd be real good for me anymore as she is. If you can get by that, I can get by the rest. Deal?"
"Deal. But I am not going to pretend anymore to be what I am not. Whatever I am, I am."
He sighed. "Well, maybe Ruddygore can straighten it out"
"What about your dad?"
"That's a lot harder for either of us to get by," Irving admitted. "I think I want old Santa Claus around before I deal with it too much."
Marge was catching up on things with Joe.
"They caught us very near this spot," Joe told her. "We'd come through some really mean spots and gotten out of some desperate times, particularly running low on food, water, and anything to buy, but we made it, or so we thought. Did it the hard way, vamping a little, doing a few odd jobs making some sick plants well, that kind of thing. But once here, boom! Right into Boquillas, who was so beside himself, it was pitiful. He told me what he was going to do, how he was going to lure you all here, all the stuff.
And then he changed us to what you see, literally half plants, rooted us, and raped us both repeatedly while leaving us on guard with compulsions to stop anybody from trying anything. We completely lost track of everything, I have to tell you. I don't know how long we've been here or anything else." She looked at Marge. "You haven't stayed a good girl, either, I see."
"Nope. And I don't know if it's the condition or what, but I don't care. That's the amazing part. I really don't mind. Until this last business I've had more fun like this than I ever had as a Kauri."
"But you seduce and enslave men and eventually consume their souls."
She shrugged. "Well, there's a downside to everything, I guess. The thing is, there's a ton of bums out there who deserve it. You know. Believe me, you know. Most any native on this continent is fair game, and a fair number elsewhere. The difference between me and a born Succubus is that I came from somewhere and something else, and I remember it. I liked the Kauri well enough, but they were so one-dimensional, so goody two-shoes, their lives so regimented and controlled, I was losing myself, my identity. This brought if back. I've got to tell you, I need it and if I don't control it, I'll flip out and take it, so that's something I got to watch out for, but so long as I get my priorities and targets straight, I think I can handle this and not hurt anybody who doesn't deserve hurting. The vampire who only sucks blood from the bad guys, that kind of thing. I'm not on automatic like the others, so what happens from this point's on my account."
"I hope you can handle it as easily as you say," Joe told her.
"What about you? What will you do when you get uprooted?"
Joe sighed. "I don't know. I see Irving, and I want, to be Conan the Barbarian all over again. Poor kid — he's got worse shit than I ever dreamed. His girlfriend's a guy, and his daddy's a woman. How the hell has he turned out as good as he has?"
Marge nodded. "Sure would make a great Donahue."
It was suddenly different. The change was so dramatic that it woke several of them up, yet there wasn't anything obvious that had changed. No great sounds had been shut off, no brilliant flares had illuminated them, no eruptions or fires. But… something.
"The vortex is gone," Poquah said at last. "They have closed it down and sealed it off."
"Yeah, and look!" Irving said, pointing to the old altar stone. "No remains!"
It was true. Every last chunk of the final stage of Esmilio Boquillas had gone as well.
Still, it was Marge who summed up the situation. "What a strange, strange adventure this has been! And now, at the end of it, evil has triumphed over evil! Ain't that one for the Book of Rules!"
A few hours later, emerging from the woods on a great sedan chair borne by four huge stonelike creatures, came Throckmorton P. Ruddygore in full evening dress, top hat, spats, and cane.
"Well, well, well!" he said, brightening at the sight. "So all's well that ends well, eh?"
"Too deep a subject for me, and too many wells," Marge snapped. "Hello, Ruddygore. You surprised at my condition?"
"Oh, my, no! I assumed it would happen. Thought it might be useful. Would you like to be changed back?"
"Talk to you later," she told him. "For now, let's hang loose and stay where we are."
His eyebrows didn't go up even at that. "Very well. Ah! Down, boys! Easy, please. Ah! Thank you."
They lowered the chair to ground level, and he emerged, the triumphant victor as usual.
"You don't have the black bird," Irving noted.
"Don't need it," he responded. "I'm wired in, as it were, at least for a while and at a certain level. Don't worry — the only problems that might result from this are mine if I blow the kind of wish spells it is capable of doing. Right now the real thing is sitting in the middle of the damnedest sports field I have ever seen but very, very safe, I assure you."
"Maybe. Where's Joel Thebes?"
"He lit out this morning," Lame told him.
Irving wasn't reassured by that. "Are you sure he can't get to that bird? That's all his life means to him."
"I am not so certain of that," Larae told him. "He went off this morning muttering something about the 'one ring over all, one ring to bind them,' if you know what that means."
"I think I do," the sorcerer told her. "Well, he's already in the right place for something related to it, anyway," he noted. "I just hope he has all his forgers. Now, tell me the truth — what can I do for the two of you?"
"You mean Larae isn't obvious?" Irving asked him.
"Um, yes, I see what you mean. Hmmm. Fascinating math on that spell. Makes me dizzy trying to follow it. No, there's not much I can do about that. It's worse than a djinn spell! My word! That's precisely what we were so worried about if they got through and why it took so long for an object of our universe to close up an opening to theirs."
"You mean you can't do anything?' Irving was suddenly so crushed that he was close to tears.
"Not what you are thinking, no," the sorcerer responded. "The whole thing is so complex that it would probably kill her at best. About the only thing I can do is some of the superficial stuff. Give you, poor girl, a look closer to your original self and ease the restrictions."
"I'd like that if Irving doesn't mind," Larae told him. "This is — impressive — but it just isn't me."
"No, no, I like the original fine," Irving assured her.
'Well, I'll see to that much, and you are certainly welcome at Terindell. There are many resources there, and perhaps one day we can find something your demon covets more than keeping that curse on you. In the meantime I'll help as best I can. Excuse me, now, though. I must see the prodigal."