"That sounds nice," Luna said. She nudged Zane.
"What do you think?"
Zane came out of his stasis. "You're going to die —
within the month! Did your father know?"
"He surely did," Luna said. "Of course he thought I
was destined for Heaven. But I have as much as two
fortnights and might as well make the most of them. Let's
go to the carnival."
"The carnival," Zane agreed numbly.
They loaded Molly's wheelbarrow into the limousine's
capacious trunk, then got into the passenger compartment.
There was room for three in the front seat, though
Molly's presence moved Luna pleasantly snug against
Zane's hip.
"Straight ahead two blocks," the ghost directed. "Then
turn left and close your eyes. Mortis knows what to do."
It seemed the Deathsteed had a good reputation in the
Afterlife. Zane followed directions, not really caring
whether they crashed. Luna fated to die — when he was
just getting to appreciate her! What sort of doom was
stalking him, even after he had assumed the office of
Death? He had been appalled at the way so many people
died; now his feeling intensified. Luna was not merely
another person. She was a personal acquaintance, and
perhaps more. Surely more!
"Come on, enjoy the evening," Luna said. "Do not
struggle with the inevitable, wasting what time we have
remaining."
She had learned she was to die — so she had prettied
herself up for him. In one sense, this was utter
foolishness, for she surely had better things to do in her last
hours. But in another way, it was very flattering, for she
had chosen to do what she chose to do — with him. He
felt a warm rush of feeling, composed partly of
appreciation and partly of burgeoning grief. He could love her,
he realized; she was the kind of woman he had longed
for all his life, without ever realizing it. What had Angelica
ever been, after all, but the dream of a moment? Luna
was the reality. Beauty, intelligence, artistry, courage —
but what use was any of it if she died?
page 178
She was right; they must not waste what time
remained. If she wanted to be happy, to celebrate — to
celebrate what — the least he could do was help her do it.
"We shall make a night of it," he agreed, taking the left
turn. Then they all closed their eyes.
There was no crash. "Here it is," Molly Malone announced.
Zane looked. They were approaching a complex of
tents, with colorful banners flying. Loud, off-key music
wafted out. People crowded around. It was a carnival, all
right.
"These people look alive," Zane remarked.
"To the dead, the dead look alive," Molly said. "But
the two of you are the only living creatures here. Don't
let that spoil your pleasure."
"We won't," Luna said. "I have always liked ghosts."
Molly approached the ticket seller. "These are my
guests from the land of the living," she said. "Death did
me a favor not long ago, and the woman will save the
world from Satan in twenty years. Give them free passes."
"Those are good credentials," the ticket seller agreed,
handing out the passes.
They passed through the old-fashioned stile and entered
a broad concourse. Circus-type sideshows and
knickknack concession stands lined either side. "Come
on," Molly said enthusiastically. "The best thing to start
with is the historical tour."
Luna took Zane's hand possessively as they both
suffered themselves to be led to the embarcation station for
the historical tour. Soon the three of them were ensconced
in an open car on narrow tracks. It began to move under
its own guidance, carrying them through a scintillating
curtain.
Suddenly they were in a gloomy cave. "Lascoux," Molly
announced. She obviously had been here many times
before. "The famous cave paintings." As she spoke, the cave
illuminated, as if from a flickering torch, and the walls
glowed with assorted wild animals that seemed almost
alive despite being crudely drawn. "It's the glimmering
light," Molly explained. "It changes what we see, so it is
as if the paintings live. That is the genius of these artists."
page 179
"Is the genius?" Zane asked. "Isn't this a replica?"
"Oh, no!" Molly protested. "This is the real cave, circa
14000 B.C. We are the ghosts."
"Literal time travel being problematical," Luna said,
nudging him. Zane put his arm about her shoulders. She
might be using spellstones to lighten her mood, but she
was still herself. "Ghosts can go where they want, without
paradox."
"See, there is the artist painting the first unicorn,"
Molly said brightly.
Zane looked. He saw a seemingly vast panoply of
crudely sketched animals all along the wall. Most of them
were equine or bovine, some overlapping other figures.
Yet in the flame of the sandstone lamp, whose crude wick
sent out almost as much smoke as light, these figures
seemed to be a three-dimensional herd, the overlapping
sketches showing not carelessness but the dimension of
time. This stag would soon give place to that horse; the
double picture showed that clearly enough. This was the
great Hall of Bulls; Zane remembered it now from former
studies.
The unicorn representation was not apt. It had an
enormously sagging belly that almost touched the ground, a
severely truncated tail, several huge, hollow spots, and
two long, straight homs. "That's no unicorn," he
protested. "It's a bicorn."
"We think they evolved into the single horn," Molly
explained. "The unicorn must have had both horses and
horned creatures as ancestors, and the first crossbreeds
would have seemed crude by modem standards. After all,
the human figures depicted in these caves are far more
primitive than those of the animals; our species has evolved
much more rapidly in the last fifteen thousand years or so."
page 180
"I suppose so," Zane agreed, surprised at the ghost's
knowledge. But of course Molly must have taken this tour
many times before, and learned all she wished. He was
beginning to understand what ghosts did with their free time.
"Primitive art fascinates me," Luna said, her gray eyes
flickering orange in the lamplight. She was especially lovely ,
here, somehow enhanced by the primitive surroundings.
"All true art stems from the depths of the unconscious
mind. The men of these caves were close to the natural
world and they knew, perhaps better than we do, how to
relate to its magic. We can no longer summon prey for
the kill by painting its likeness on a wall; we have to use
technological weapons or highly refined spells. To
primitive man, science and magic were one — and he made
them work as one. Only recently have we begun to
rediscover the principle of aura that our ancestors
understood intuitively. The whole cave is suffused with that
awareness."
"Yes," Zane agreed, seeing it now. "I use a camera,
you use paints. They used entire caves. The spirits of
these animals are still here,"
"No, we are there," Molly reminded him. "Today the
caves of Lascoux, Altamira, Perch-Merle, and the rest
are tourist traps with no soul remaining. We ghosts are
trying to preserve the true spirits, but it isn't easy."
"Of course it isn't easy," Luna said. "But you must
keep up the excellent work."
The cart passed through a wall, out of the cave, and
into a man-made labyrinth. "The maze of the Minotaur,
in old Crete," Molly said. "This is our earliest historical
reference to the bull-man."
"I thought you were an illiterate peasant girl," Zane
said. "You don't sound that way."
"Oh, I can't read or anything," Molly said. "It is very
hard to learn fundamental skills like that after death. I
just sell shellfish; it's the one thing I do well. But I've
been dead much longer than I lived, and I have had the
chance to educate myself that I lacked in life. I wasn't
stupid when I lived, just ignorant. There's a lot to learn,
simply by watching the follies of the living. See, there's
the Minotaur now."
page 181
Indeed, the bull-man was pacing about his central
chamber, lifting his horns and sniffing the air suspiciously,
as if becoming aware of the intruding party. "I don't
suppose you want the gossip about how he was conceived,"
Molly said. "How the Queen Pasiphae of Crete had a
passion for the Bull from the Sea, who was really a sort
of masculine demon, but the Bull wasn't interested in her,
so she — "
"We know the story," Luna said curtly. Zane could
understand why she did not want to discuss the matter
of lovely women making love to demons.
Then they were out of the maze and rolling along a
Roman highway. "Are you enjoying this?" Zane asked in
Luna's ear.
"I haven't been on a date-in a long time," she answered
obliquely. "Most men shun association with the family of
a Black Magician."
"Their loss," he said, drawing her in more closely. She
melted against him, and it was very pleasant.
"How can you save the world from Satan in twenty
years if you are doomed to die within a month?" Zane
asked, remembering something the ghost had said.
"Maybe I can influence Satan in Hell," she suggested.
"I don't want you in Hell!" he protested. "I don't want
you dead at all."
"We must all die," Molly said. "What hurts is dying
out of turn." She was, of course, in a position to know.
Zane pondered that, as Luna snuggled most pleasantly
close. Those were the clients he had trouble with,
intellectually and emotionally — the ones who were dying early
because of accident or misunderstanding or plain bad luck.
A game that played itself out and was finished was one
thing; its score was known. But one that was interrupted
before its course was run was a tragedy. Maybe he was
abusing his office by talking a potential suicide out of it,
or rescuing a drowning man, while facilitating the demise
of an old and worn-out person, yet that was the way he
had to play it. He had precious little of a worthwhile
nature to distinguish himself, but it was important to care
about people.
page 182
"Penny for your thoughts," Luna murmured as they
cruised through a medieval Chinese city. Zane was sure
each setting on this tour was a highly significant historical
event, and Molly was happily describing it all, but
somehow he wasn't interested at the moment.
"I don't want you dying out of turn," he whispered.
"You're a lot better woman than I deserve, and if — "
"Despite my affair with the demon?" she asked.
Why did she have to remind him of that? "To Hell with
the demon!" he exploded.
"Which is exactly where he went," she agreed. "I had
to tell you, or any relationship we might have would be
a lie. I am unclean, Death, and I will never be clean again,
and you must know — "
"We've been over this before!" he cried. "You did
something horrible to help your father — as I did to help
my mother. How can I condemn you for that?" Yet of
course he had condemned her, emotionally; he had not
been able to avoid it. The notion of some gross demon
from Hell sating himself upon her body —
"What did you two do that was so horrible?" Molly asked.
"She gave her body to a demon, to learn the magic
that might help her father," Zane said.
"And he used a penny curse to make the machinery
that was keeping his mother alive against her will
malfunction," Luna said.
"I guess those were sins," Molly agreed doubtfully. "I
think sometimes you just have to sin in order to do the
right thing."
"If I could have helped my father with a penny curse,
I'd have done it," Luna said.
page 183
"And if I had to romance a demoness to spare my
mother her pain, I'd have done it," Zane said.
"Some of those demonesses are mighty sexy," Molly
said. "They say there's no sex like succubus-sex. Of
course, I wouldn't know."
"That does sound interesting," Zane said.
Luna reached up, caught hold of one of his ears, and
drew his face down to meet hers. "Try this first," she
said.
The kiss was electrifying. She had forgiven him his
prior reaction and was giving him her emotion. It was a
wonderful gift.
"And this is Tours," Molly said, gesturing to a new
scene beyond the cart. Zane had no idea how many
important historical scenes he had missed. "Where the French
halted the advance of the Moors, and Europe was saved
for the Europeans."
"Good for the Europeans," Luna said, resting her head
against Zane's neck. Her topaz joy stones affected him as
they touched his skin, suffusing him with rare joy. Or
maybe it was just Luna's touch that did it.
Still he cursed inwardly. He had foolishly lost an ideal
romance and now had another developing in its place —
but this one would end within a month. That might be the
reason the first Lovestone had not pointed him at Luna,
who in certain respects was a better woman than
Angelica. He had never gotten to know Angelica, but was
judging her on the basis of his expectations. Luna was a
poorer match because she would not live long. The Love-
stone did not care about details; it merely matched up the
greatest good for the longest period. That was the trouble
with inanimate magic; it left so much untold.
Yet he realized that this misfortune had a perverse
enchantment. He had been somewhat diffident about
approaching Luna, for he wasn't sure whether Death should
date a mortal woman, or whether a Magician's daughter
would have anything to do with the likes of him when not
compelled by magic, or how he felt about a person who
had been used by a minion of Hell. Now, with the awareness
of her mortality, he knew such diffidence could not
be afforded. Whatever she could be to him, she had to
be now — for there would be no tomorrow.
page 184
"But you could disassociate immediately, sparing
yourself sorrow," she pointed out.
"No, that would be like a rat leaving a sinking ship."
Then he did a mental double take. "How did you know
what I was thinking?"
"I inherited more than Truthstones and Lovestones
and Deathstones," she said teasingly. "The right spell
stones can enable a person to do anything, even read
minds."
"But you aren't using black magic now, because it — "
"Brings me closer to the demon," she finished for him.
"You're right — I'm not using magic. I merely have a pretty
good notion of the nature of your thinking."
"How? You don't know me that well yet."
"Did you desert your mother when she needed your help?"
"That's different — " He paused, reconsidering. "No, I
guess it isn't. I have much evil on my soul, but I don't
desert sinking ships."
"So you are a mixed person, with good as well as evil,
as I am. I am selfish to come to you in this fashion, when
I did not do so before."
"Yes, you did. You offered — "
"My body. The least valuable aspect of me. Now I
offer more."
"I'll take it."
"This self-serving manner of coming to you will further
burden my soul. But since my father left, there has been
a void in my life that even the most potent equilibrium
magic does not entirely abate. I had thought I was
prepared, for I knew he was destined to die, but the shock
of the actuality was worse than I anticipated." She paused,
examining her feeling. "There was a presence that perhaps
I took somewhat for granted. Now there is not. I feel
unbalanced, falling into the gap that was the support my
father provided. How does one counter the emptiness?"
page 185
"Maybe some other support — "
"And you are the closest man for me to lean on. I want
to enjoy my remaining time in life before it is gone forever.
Before I must go to the demon."
"The demon still lurks for you?" Zane asked, dismayed.
He had thought that was over.
"Yes. But he can't reach me in life unless I summon
him, and that I will never again do. But when I go to Hell,
I will be in his power forever."
"You must not go to Hell!" he protested. "You must
improve your balance so you will go to Heaven!"
"In less than a month?" She shook her head sadly. "I
have stones that measure good and evil, even as you do,
and some of them operate by white magic, so I can use
them as I wish, though they do not work well for me. I
know my score. I am too deep in debt to Satan to escape
at this point."
"There has to be a way! You can do a lot of good,
contribute to worthy charities, think angelic thoughts — "
She shook her head. "You know better. Death. Good
deeds done for such a purely selfish reason do not count.
I had to redress my evil before I learned I was about to
die. Now it is too late."
"What — what is to be the cause of your death?" Zane
asked, fearing the answer.
"I don't know. I'm not ill, and I'm not accident-prone.
Maybe someone is going to murder me."
"Not if I can help it," Zane muttered grimly. He
resolved, as soon as this date with Luna was over, to go to
Purgatory and look up the relevant records. If he could
find out what was slated to kill her, he might arrange to
block it. He already knew that a scheduled demise was
not necessarily immutable; he had changed several such
schedules himself. Meanwhile, if she stayed at home, her
invisible moon moth should protect her well.
page 186
"Pearl Harbor!" Molly said. "See the airplanes! They
caught the defenders with their spells down. That launched
the United States of America into World War Two."
Zane wasn't sure how the cart had traveled all the way
across the great Pacific Ocean to this island, but
remembered it was a ghost vehicle not subject to the normal
laws of physics.
Already the cart was moving on to the next display.
"The preemptive nuclear strike that launches World War
Three," Molly said with a certain zest. "This one generates
a lot of ghosts, believe me!" And it was as if they
trundled through the heart of the sun, with blinding light
everywhere.
"World War Three?" Luna asked. "That hasn't happened yet!"
"We ghosts aren't limited by time the way living folk
are," Molly explained. "We see everything."
"When is World War Three happening?" Zane asked
somewhat nervously.
"You'd have to ask Mars that; he's been working on
it for a long time, his crowning achievement. I think the
time is not precisely fixed, because the Etemals can't
agree. Satan wants it when the balance of evil favors him;
God is holding out for His own side. Right now the balance
is so close they can't be certain where the majority of
now-living folk would go if all their souls were released
today. So neither side dares provoke the final war. But
if any significant shift occurs, either way — "
"The world is in balance, like an individual human
soul?" Zane asked. "That's some situation!"
"Is that all God or Satan cares about the world?" Luna
demanded. "Which one gets the most souls when it ends?"
page 187
"That's the way it seems to us," Molly said. "Of course,
we're only ghosts, who aren't privy to the motives of the
Eternals. But it does stand to reason that whoever gets
the most souls has the most power. Souls are wealth in
the region where gold can't go."
"It can't be that way," Zane said, troubled. "Maybe
Satan is soul-grubbing, but God has to want the genuine
welfare of man."
"Then how come God never helps man directly?" Molly
demanded. "Satan has minions all over, sowing dissension,
making mischief, publishing commercials for Hell.
God remains aloof.".
"God is honoring the Covenant," Luna said. "Satan is
cheating. There should not be any supernatural interference.
Man is supposed to make his own destiny, by the
type of life he lives when given free will."
"If you believe that," Molly said, the accent of the
gutter where she had been raised in life coming through
more strongly, "you must also believe the Tooth Fairy is
queer."
Luna was startled. "That's a serious charge."
The ghost laughed. "See? You argue the case!"
The cart passed through an invisible curtain and
emerged at the carnival grounds. "That was quite a tour,"
Zane said politely, though he had not paid it much attention.
"That's just the beginning!" Molly said, hauling them
off to the ghostly, ghastly Horror House. The experience
was, of course, awful, for the ghosts really knew how to
horrify mortal people, but Luna took advantage of the
darkness to sneak in a passionate kiss that horrified the
ghosts. At least Zane thought it was Luna.
They had ghostly cotton candy and visited the
Dinosaur Petting Zoo — the larger carnivores were muzzled,
which annoyed them visibly — and tried to win a valuable
invisible doll by catching a smoke ring on a glass lance.
It didn't work; the ring shattered and the lance puffed
away as vapor. They concluded with the Tunnel of Love —
and here Molly had to let them go alone, for the boat held
only two.
page 188
By this time Zane was quite satisfied to be alone with
Luna. Maybe it was the hypnotic effect of the constant
noise and color of the carnival, or the knowledge of her
brief time remaining, or that she was soft and pretty — for
whatever reason, he found himself dizzy with delight at
her propinquity, and as close to love as he had ever been.
They drifted down the calm channel of water; as the quiet
darkness closed in, they held hands and kissed again, and
that was more pleasant than anything else he might have
contemplated with any other woman. Then, it seemed like
only half a moment later, they were emerging from the
long tunnel, the journey over.
It was enough. They unloaded Molly Malone's wheelbarrow
from the car and got in for the drive back to
Kilvarough. It had been a good date
page189
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN