PARRY

There was a knock at the door, so hesitant as to be almost
inaudible. Parry opened it.

A giri stood without, huddled and childlike. Her flowing
honey hair was bound back from her face by a fillet: a narrow
band of cloth that circled her bare head. Her frightened eyes
seemed enormous, me irises gray-green. "I am Jolie," she
whispered, her hands making a tentative gesture toward her
bosom.

She had come! Suddenly Parry's mouth felt dry. He had
known she would, yet doubted. He had wanted her to, yet
been afraid. Now the test was upon him.

"Please come in," he said, his voice sounding considerably
more assured than he felt.

She gazed at him. Her face crumpled. "Oh, please, my lord,
please let me go! I never did you harm, or even spoke ill of
you! I never meant to give offense, and if I have, I apologize
most abjectly! Please, please do not enchant me!" She put her
face in her hands, sobbing.

Parry was taken aback. "I am not going to enchant you,
Jolie!" he protested. "I have no grievance against you."

Pwvs Assthoisy

Those marvelous eyes peeked from between her fingers.
"No?"

"None. I know you have done me no harm. I want only
to—" He found no appropriate word. "If you will come in,
I will explain."

Her tears ceased, but not her fright. "The Sorcerer said I
would not be hurt," she said somewhat defiantly.

"My tamer spoke truly," Parry said. "I mean only to talk
with you. Please come in; it is warm inside."

She hesitated. A gust of wind tugged at her garment, and
she shivered. It was evidently her best dress, but it was some-
what soiled linen, given shape only by the cord at her waist.
It was inadequate protection against the chill of me fall evening.
"You order me, lorel?"

Parry grimaced. "I am no lord, Jolie. I am the Sorcerer's
apprentice. I am hardly older man you. I cannot older you,
nor would I if I could. I only want your company this night."

Her face crumpled again. "Oh, please, spare me this! To
you it may be nothing, but to me it's my life!"

Parry had realized mat there would be difficulty, but he had
not properly appreciated its nature before. The giri believed
mat she was doomed if she set foot inside his house.

He could let her go. But mat would mean the loss of what
might be his sole opportunity, and failure in his first significant
challenge. The Sorcerer had little sympathy for failure of any
type.

"How can I persuade you mat I mean you no harm?" he
asked. "I swear to you that I will do nothing to you without
your leave, and mat I will not force mat leave-giving."

"Will you swear by the Blessed Virgin Mary?" she asked
disbelievingly.

"I swear it by me Blessed Virgin Mary."

She watched him for some sign of disaster, but mere was
none. He had not been smitten for false swearing; therefore it
must be safe. Still, her doubt loomed almost tangibly.

"Come in before you freeze," he urged. "I have a fire
within."

That did it; her shivering was not entirely from fright. "Re-
member, you swore," she reminded him nervously.

FORLOVEOFEVIL          3

"By me Virgin," he agreed.

She stepped in through the doorway, her eyes fixing on the
fireplace within. There was indeed fire, radiating flickering
heat. He had banked it so mat it gave off little smoke and
warmed the chamber without depleting me air; it was one of
me arts the Sorcerer had taught him.

Jolie knelt before it, extending her hands to the warmth.
Now the threadbare nature of her garment became evident; me
light of me fire shone through, showing her thin arms, and
there were holes. But she was oblivious; for me moment that
warmth was all that she craved.

Parry closed and barred me door against the wind. It was
of stout oak, and chinked around me edges, but some drafts
still leaked through. He went quietly to his pantry, which was
a niche to the side, separated by a dark linen curtain. He brought
out a loaf of bread, a cup of butter, and a jar of blackberry
jam. He set these on a tray and added a pitcher of goat milk
and a knife and two mugs. He brought these to the main
chamber and set them on me wooden table.

"I have food," he said.

Jolie tore her rapt gaze from the fire and turned to him. For
a moment her eyes met his; then she turned away without
speaking.

"For you," he clarified, picking up the sharp knife.

She looked again—and screamed. She lurched to her feet
and ran for the door. She would have been out and away, but
me bar balked her.

"No, wait!" Parry cried, dropping me knife and hurrying
to join her. "I meant—"

Perceiving herself trapped, Jolie turned on him a stricken
countenance, then fainted.

He caught her as she fell. It was no ruse; her body slumped
in rag-doll fashion. He had to transfer his hold from her shoul-
ders to her midsection as she sagged. She was so light she
seemed indeed like a doll; there was little flesh on her bones.

He tried to walk her to a stool, but couldn't make it work.
Finally he picked her up and carried her. He eased her down
by me fireplace, propping her against the warm hearth wall,
then fetched pillows for comfort.




4                  Piers Anthony

In a moment she recovered. Her eyes popped open, and she
glanced about like a snared bird.

"You are safe, Jolie," Parry said quickly. "You swooned,
but you are safe."

"The knife—"

Then it burst upon him: the knife! He had been about to
slice the bread, and she had thought he meant to use it on her.
No wonder she had spooked!

"I gave my oath," he reminded her. "No harm to you."

"But—"

"I was cutting bread for you."

"But the sacrifice—"

"My oath," he repeated. "By the Holy Virgin. You can
trust that."

"Yes," she agreed dubiously.

"I am going to cut you a slice of bread," he said carefully.
"Or you may do it yourself, if you prefer."

"No . . ." she said, evidently afraid that the knife would
turn in her hand and seek her innocent blood.

Parry picked up the knife, slowly, and oriented on the hard
loaf. He sawed through it, severing a thick slice, and set down
die knife.

Jolie's eyes remained locked on the knife throughout. She
relaxed only when it left his hand.

"Would you like butter on it?" he inquired. "Or jam?"

"Oh, my lord ..." she demurred.

"I am no lord," he repeated firmly. "Call me Parry."

"Oh, I could not!"

Parry smiled, a trifle grimly. "Call me Parry," he said,
touching the knife.

"Parry!" she cried, shrinking into her dress.

"That's better," he said. "You know I am only a year older
than you. I see you as an equal."

"But you are the Sorcerer's son!"

"Butter or jam?" he asked. "Or both?"

"For me?" She simply could not believe.

"For you. I will have a separate slice. Here, I will cut it
now." He picked up the knife.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          5

Again her eyes locked on it, and her breath became shallow.
It was as though he were torturing the loaf.

"I will put the knife away," he said as he finished. He
earned it back to the pantry and set it behind the curtain, safely
out of sight. Only then did the girl's breathing revert to normal.

He used a wooden spatula to spread butter generously on
both slices of the coarse black bread, then poured jam on each.
He picked up the slices and walked to her, proffering one.
"For you," he repeated. "I will sit on the other side of me
fire and eat my own."

Hesitantly, her tiny hand came up, as if ready to dart away
at die first sign of menace. Her whole arm was shaking. He
set the bread firmly in it, then took his place on the other side
as promised.

He had been uncertain how to proceed, but now he felt more
confident. "Jolie, I would like you to understand me. May I
tell you my story?"

"Yes, lord," she said. Then, as his glance went to the table
where the knife had lain, "Parry!"

He smiled. "You learn quickly, Jolie. That is one of two
reasons I asked for you."

"You gave your oath!" she cried.

"I asked only for your company this evening. Your father
owed my father, and this is the manner of the payment: your
visit here. After this you will be free; we shall never require
this of you again."

"Oh, please—I never homed you!"

"And I will not harm you!" he snapped. "Eat your bread
and listen; then perhaps you will understand."

She looked at the bread she held as if seeing it for the first
time. "I—really can eat?"

"Slowly," he cautioned. "One small bite at a time. Like
so." He took a delicate bite of his own. "Chew it well before
swallowing." He was aware that a hungry peasant tended to
gulp good rood, fearing it would vanish. He did not want the
girl to make herself sick.

She took a bite, emulating him exactly.

"Fifteen years ago, me Sorcerer was preparing a major spell,"




6                  PiersAwthony

Parry said.' 'For this he required a blood sacrifice. So he bought
a baby. As you know, such babies are for sale by poor families
who have too many to feed already."
She knew. She chewed deliberately, watching him.
"I was that baby," he continued. "It was my destiny to be
cut and bled on the altar, my life's blood lending substance to
the potency of the spell. I believe it was a weather spell; there
had been a drought, and the Lord of the Manor feared for his
crops and the wild animals on his preserve. He did not want
to suffer poor hunting. So he hired this service of the Sorcerer,
in the year of our Savior 1190. The sacrifice was to be private.
because the Holy Church frowns on human sacrifice."

He paused, glancing at her. She watched him as if mes-
merized, slowly chewing.

"But the Abbot somehow learned of it," Parry continued
after a moment. "He showed up at the site in person. 'What's
this noise of sacrifice?' he demanded. 'You know it is forbidden
to cut a living human baby!' And naturally the Lord had to
disavow it, because the Abbot could make things very difficult
for the progress of his soul to Heaven. 'No, no. Abbot, you
misunderstand!' he protested. "This is no human sacrifice! We
have a fine sheep for that!' And he signaled his minion to fetch
a sheep from the herd.

" "Then what is mis human baby doing here?' the Abbot
demanded, for he was no fool. The Lord had to think fast.
'Why, this is the Sorcerer's newbom son,' he explained. 'But
the Sorcerer is not married,' the Abbot pointed out. "That is
why he is adopting this fine baby,' the Lord said.

"The Abbot looked at the Sorcerer, whom he didn't like
because magic was, strictly speaking, forbidden outside the
auspices of the Church. But on occasion the community did
need the professional touch, as now, so the Sorcerer was tol-
erated. The Abbot saw a way to make the Sorcerer really
uncomfortable, and he pounced on it. 'I am very glad to hear
that,' he said, rubbing his hands together. 'Children are the
Lord's blessing. I shall perform the ceremony of adoption
straightaway.' And the Sorcerer was trapped in this bed of
thistles of the Lord's making; he would have to adopt and raise

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          7

the sacrificial baby. Thus was my life spared, and I have not
had occasion to regret it."

He looked again at Jolie, and caught her in a tentative smile.
He smiled in return, encouraging her. She was now halfway
through her feast of bread, still chewing deliberately, as di-
rected.

"The sheep arrived, and the sacrifice was made," he re-
sumed. "And do you know, the weather did tarn, and rain
came within the day. It seemed that the sacrifice had been
effective. The Abbot performed the ceremony of adoption, and
I became the Sorcerer's son. I understand it was difficult for
the Sorcerer to mask his scowl, or the Abbot his smirk. Even
the Lord, when he pondered the matter, considered it a fine
joke. But he remained neutral, for he required me good offices
of both the Abbot and me Sorcerer. He went so far as to
guarantee a nominal stipend for me care of die boy, so mat he
might never be in want. The Abbot matched him by guaran-
teeing a proper and churchly education for the lad. Thus I
received both material and spiritual blessings, to the discom-
fiture of my adopted father. It was impossible for him to renege,
or to dispose of me privately; me Abbot watched like a hawk.
Thus me joke became a fact, and I was indeed the heir to me
Sorcerer. But do you know, I somehow never did take a liking
to the notion of human sacrifice? I am not certain I ever quite
figured out why."

Now Jolie could not prevent her laugh. Her face illuminated
with me momentary pleasure of it, becoming pretty. She had
finished her bread, while Parry's had only one bite from it.

"Here, take mine," he said, offering it to her. "I find I
would rather talk man eat; you are a good listener."

She tried to demur, but she remained hungry, and her protest
lacked force. She accepted the bread, and ate it with better
confidence.

"Then the oddest thing developed," Parry said. "I turned
out to have a talent for magic. It was as if God had chosen
this way to provide me Sorcerer an heir mat he would never
have chosen for himself. The Abbot died when I was ten,
and the Lord when I was twelve, but the need for any coercion




8 Piers Anthony

had long since passed. My father now saw to my education
and welfare with enthusiasm, and indeed, I have never wanted
for either. I have long known the trotfi of my adoption, and
have no resentment on that account; I know that had I not
been sold for sacrifice, I would now be a completely igno-
rant peasant, or perhaps dead of a fever. I believe Has Lead
in his mercy and discretion did intervene to make of my life
what it could be. I was never in danger of death from the
knife; God knew that, if the others did not." He smiled again.
"But you may be sure that when I pick up a knife, it is to cut
bread, and not to harm a visitor. Do you believe that now,
Jolie?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Will you have some milk? I have plenty."

She nodded mutely, seeming afraid to speak such greed
aloud. He got up and went to the table and poured a mugful.
He brought it to her.

She took it, and sipped it carefully. He knew she was hon-
oring his cautions, which she took to be meaningless; but he
knew also mat she was far more likely to keep the food down
if she went slowly. She was a typical peasant girl in that she
had seldom if ever been properly fed.

"And so I learned the disciplines of law and medicine and
magic," Parry said. "Also combat—and the arts. The art of
communication among them. I doubt you have had much dif-
ficulty understanding me."

She nodded, her smile coming more freely now.

"But I suspect you are wondering why I asked for you."

The fear flared up again, and the remaining milk slopped in
the mug. "I have done you no harm!"

"And I shall do you no harm," he replied automatically.
"I am fifteen years old now, and in good health. I am becoming
a man. That means I am ready for a woman."

Now the milk slopped over the brim. "Oh, please, lord—"

"Surely you know that my father would have brought me
any woman I wished," he said.

She nodded, her hands still shaking.

"Obviously I asked for you. Why do you think I should
want an illiterate peasant girl one year my junior?"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          9

Her breathing was becoming labored. "Oh, please—"

"Stop that!" he snapped. "Answer the question."

She took a shuddering breath. "Be—because I am the only
virgin without disease in die village."

"No."

"But it is true, lord! No man has touched me."

"I know it is true, but that is not why I asked for you. Try
again."

"Because my father owed—"

"No! All the villagers owe the Sorcerer!"

She shrugged. "Then I do not know, Idd."

"Pany! Call me Parry! That's my name. I am tow-born,
like you."

"Parry," she agreed faintly.

"I asked for you because I want the best woman I can get,
and you are that one."

Now she laughed. "You do ill to tease me so, lor—Pairy."

"It is true that you are young, but so am I. You are poten-
tially the smartest and Ae prettiest woman of the village. That
is why—"

This time her laugh was wholehearted. "I am the thinnest
and dumbest waif in die village!" she protested. "How can
you pretend otherwise?"

Parry leaned forward, leaching for her. She shrank away,
but he persisted, catching hold of a hank of her hair at her
shoulder. "Look at this," he said earnestly. "Golden nesses,
like few known here in the south of France. Look at your face:

perfect. Not even any scars from die pox."

"I have scars," she said, almost eageriy. "But they don't
show."

"All you need is some feeding, and you will flesh out into
sheer loveliness. You have die frame already; I can see it
clearly."

She drew her dress more closely about her, fearing diat her
body showed. "You shouldn't look!"

"Figuratively, I mean. I have learned to see folk for what
d»ey are and for what diey can be; my father taught me
that. He had me took at tiae villagers whenever we were
in die village, and choose die best woman. Had I chosen

10                 PiersAntlwny

wrongly, he would have served me as I deserved for my
error."

She was not persuaded, but she was flattered, and curious.
"How would that be?"

"He would have delivered that wrong girl to me."

Again she laughed. "And so he did!"

"No. I have no doubt of this. You are the one."

Her doubt remained, but she was beginning to accept the
fact that he believed. "What will you have of me, then?"

"Your love."

She looked stricken, having briefly dared hope for escape.
"I dare not deny you. Parry."

"I said your love, not your body! I want you to love me."

"I fear you," she said. "Is that enough?"

"No. You must come to know me, and to love me."

She spread her hands slightly. "You promised never to sum-
mon me again, after this night."

"And I shall not! You must come only if you choose."

"If (he Sorcerer chooses."

"No! It must be free. It shall be free."

"I do not understand you."

Parry got up and fetched a sheet of paper, one of the valuable
supplies his father provided him with. He took a stick of char-
coal and began to mark it, gazing intently at her. "I have been
trained also in the art of persuasion," he said. "This is my
test: to persuade you. If I prove unable to do so, then I will
fail, and my father will be disappointed. I must not fail, for
there is no other woman as right for me as you. I must have
you with me as I step out into the worid as a sorcerer."

"I have no truck with magic!" she exclaimed with some
asperity. "It is the work of the devil!"

"No. Black magic is the work of the devil. White magic is
die work of the Church. It is white magic I am learning. It is
beneficial to man and good for the soul."

She shrugged. "I wish you would let me go. I fear what
sorcery you may work on me."

"Give me one more hour," he said earnestly. "If I cannot
persuade you in that time, then I will know it is not to be."

FOR LOVE Of EVTL         11

"You talk so foolishly! I am not to be persuaded! I am
here to be—" She hesitated, then forced herself to finish.
"Taken."

"Persuaded," he said firmly. "Just as I was given a far
better life by the intervention of the Lord God, so may you
also be. I can offer you good food, better than what you have
just eaten. Good clothing, better than what you wear now. The
warmth of the fire, every night. The respect, even the awe, of
the villagers—"

"Why torment me like mis?" she protested. "I know none
of it can be true!"

He set aside his charcoal and turned the paper to her. "What
do you see?"

Her eyes rounded with surprise. "You drew this?"

"You saw me doing it. Who is it?"

"The Madonna!" she exclaimed. "You can draw! But you
had no model!"

"I had a model."

"But you were looking at me—" She faltered. "It cannot
be! She is so lovely!"

"It is you, Jolie—as you can be. When properly fed and
dressed. When your beauty manifests to others as it does to
me now."

"No!" she said, bemused and flattered.

"It is what you will be, if you come to me. If you love me,
and let me love you. It is the potential I see in you, mat I
know will appear if it is allowed."

She stared at the sketch, fascinated. "You believe this?"

"I know this. Yet this is only the lesser half of it. Even as
the soul is more than the flesh, your mind is more than your
body. You can be brilliant!"

"I cannot even read," she said. "Or figure."

"I can teach you these. I know you can learn. I believe you
have the desire. Will you not allow me to try?"

Her gaze became canny. "So I will return to you every night
for your pleasure? You would fool me with impossible prom-
ises, so that this night will be not the end, but only the begin-
ning?"




12

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          13

Piers Anthony

"Only the beginning," he agreed. "But not of delusion.
All that I have told you is true—or will be true, if you accept
it. Please, I beg of you—give me this chance!"

"You beg of me? You have no need to beg, only to com-
mand. You know that."

"A command is made to an unwilling person, without love,"
he said. "A plea is made to a person one respects."

"Peasants are not respected!" she exclaimed.

"Jolie, I will offer you a job, so it is legitimate. To be my
servant. I will pay you a fair wage. I will give you a coin
tonight, mat you can take home and show as evidence. Then
will you return?"

"But you said you don't want my body, you want my love.
A servant doesn't love."

"It is only a pretext. I will not treat you as a servant. I will
treat you as an apprentice."

"An apprentice! To be a sorcerer?"

"And to be my wife."

"Blessed Mary!" she breathed, staring at him almost in
shock.

"What more can I promise you?" he asked. "I want your
love. I want you to know me and to love me. I will do anything
you ask."

She sighed.' 'I know my place. I am a poor, ignorant peasant
giri. I know that none of this is to be believed. I wish you
would just do what you mean to do and let me go, so that I
need not fear evil anymore, because it will be behind me. You
have no cause to mix up my mind."

Parry saw her slipping away despite his best effort. He could
not let it happen. He realized he would have to do what he
had sought to avoid. He would have to enchant her.

"What do you fear of me?" he asked.

"I cannot tell you that! The uttering of it might make it
come true."

"Do you fear that I will ravish you and cast you out de-
spoiled, so that your father will beat you for being of lesser
value on the marriage market?"

She nodded, agreeing without uttering.

"Do you not wonder why I have not done it long since,
instead of talking with you?"

"I have been asking you that!"

"Can you not accept that what I am telling you is true?"

"I cannot."

"Then let me show you the nature of my power."

She tried to shrink back against me hearthstones. ' 'I believe
it already!"

"Look at me, Jolie. Gaze into my eyes and do not flinch."

She nerved herself for the inevitable and obeyed.

Parry invoked the magic of mesmerism. He accessed her
mind through her eyes and made it responsive to his verbal
commands. She would now obey any reasonable directive, and
any unreasonable directive if it were suitably couched to seem
reasonable. Almost anything could be done with a mesmerized
person, if the sorcerer was sufficiently skilled.

"Listen to me," he said. "Believe what I say. Do not
question it."

She nodded, her eyes fixed on his.

"I am about to teach you to fly," he said. "Follow my
instructions, and you will fly. Are you ready to fly?"

She hesitated, obviously wishing to question this, but con-
strained by his injunction against that. She nodded, ill at ease
despite the power of the spell.

"Spread your arms," he said. She did so. Now the holes
in her dress were revealed; she had held her arms close to her
body before, hiding the condition of the dress. Stitching had
made up much of the damage, but it was not enough; he could
see a portion of her right breast through the stitching. The
breast was small, because she was young and because she was
ill nourished; still, it threatened to distract him from this dem-
onstration, so he forced his gaze away from it.

"You are now poised for flight," he said. "When you flap
your arms you will rise into the air. Be careful, because the
space is limited here; you do not want to bang into the roof.
Do it slowly, and remain in control."

Still she looked doubtful.

"Flap your arms," he said.




14                 PiersAnthony

She lifted and dropped her arms, imitating the motion of the
wings of a bird, awkwardly.

"You are now rising from the floor," he said. "Look down.
What do you see?"

She remained on me floor, moving her arms. But her face
as she looked down changed. Sheer wonder showed. "I—I
am hovering in the air!" she exclaimed.

"I have taught you to fly," he said. "But you are as yet
clumsy. It takes practice to do it well. When you can do it
well, we can fly outside. Now come down, carefully."

She changed her motions, men her knees bent and she almost
lost her balance. She recovered, and stood normally, her bosom
heaving. "I am down!"

"The lesson is over," he said. "Do not attempt to fly again
tonight. Fix this experience in your memory. When I snap my
fingers you will be free of my power."

He waited a moment, then snapped his fingers.

Her attitude changed. She looked warily at him. "You en-
chanted me!" she exclaimed.

"I enchanted you," he agreed.

"But I flew!"

"You did, and you did not. It is a matter of perspective. I
made you seem to fly, but later I can make you fly in reality.
This is an aspect of my power."

She looked about the room. "It was so real! But I didn't
really fly?"

"You had a vision of flying. It would not have been safe
for you really to fly at this time. You aren't dressed for it."

She glanced down at herself, and quickly pulled in her arms,
covering the flaws in her dress. "Why did you do this to me?"

"To show you the kind of power I have, taught me by
my father, the Sorcerer. I appeal now to your logic: if I can
make you believe you are flying, do you understand I could
make you believe that you must undress and do whatever I ask
of you?"

She considered. "Yes," she whispered, awed.

"Can you now believe that what I am telling you is true?
That I value your person, and want your love, not your en-
chantment?"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          15

"Almost," she whispered.

"That I will teach you these things I know, that you may
join me in the practice of this kind of magic, for the good of
the village?"

"Almost."

He saw that it wasn't enough. If she had this doubt imme-
diately after the experience, that doubt would grow when she
went home. His effort of persuasion had not been sufficient.

He had only one more thing to try. It seemed the weakest
of his devices, but it was all that remained. If it failed, then
he would have to admit defeat.

"I will sing to you," he said. "Then you may go, your
father's debt acquitted. But here—I promised you a coin, in
token of the employment I offer you. In token of all I ask of
you. Take it, and return to me if you will." He fetched me
tiny copper coin from his pocket and gave it to her.

"You are letting me go, without—?"

"After my song.'' Then he breathed deeply, twice, and sang.
He composed me words extemporaneously, and the melody;

it was a thing he had always had a talent for. That was part
of what the Sorcerer had discovered in him. There was asso-
nance and meter in the language he used—French—but those
hardly mattered; the sentiment would manifest in any language.
Yet the words were only the lesser aspect of it, a convenience
of the moment, tuned to this passing purpose.

The song filled the house, for it was buttressed by the sorcery
he had mastered best: the ethereal accompaniment. It was as
if the finest musicians of the realm sat behind him, playing
their instruments in perfect accord, buttressing and amplifying
his voice, making of it a sound no natural human throat could
issue. The power of that orchestra infused the building, making
the floor vibrate and the low fire quiver in resonance. There
was, literally, magic in it.

Jolie! I sing of the beauty I see in you,
Of the glory in you, waiting to be evoked,
Of the joy I would have of you,
If only you could love me.
If only you could love me.

16                 Piers Anthony

Jolie! I sing of your elegance to come,
Of the envy of those who once knew you,
Who will take you for an Abbess,
If only I may love you.
If only I may love you.

The girl stood as if transfixed, listening. Her tresses seemed
to waver with the sound, and faint washes of color crossed her
eyes. She was indeed beautiful, and intelligent; only the pov-
erty of her situation had masked her qualities. With food and
care and confidence she would be a woman to reckon with.
Parry had not deceived her in that; she deceived herself. He
did want her love, for he knew her to be a treasure. Her name
meant "Pretty," and that she was, in many senses. His com-
prehension of this infused his song with passion; he loved her
already.

He finished. He said nothing; he walked to me door and
lifted the bar, and stood aside, waiting for her to leave.

Dazed, she clutched her dress about her and walked out.

She hesitated just outside, afraid of the night, shivering with
its chill. Parry took a cloak from a hook and carried it to her,
and set it on her shoulders.

Still she stood. He realized that she was concerned for the
creatures of the darkness. The village dogs knew her and would
not attack, but they were not out now, which meant that wild
animals could encroach. The village was some distance from
Parry's house. It could be dangerous for a woman to walk
alone.

He took down a cloak for himself, and fetched a stout staff.
Then he joined Jolie. Without a word he set out for me village.

She followed, grateful for the protection. He slowed, en-
couraging her to catch up. Then they walked together, silently.
The distance had seemed formidable; now it seemed short. No
animals encroached.

When they came to her house, he stopped. She paused,
glancing at him, then removed her cloak; it was not hers to
keep. Gravely, he accepted it. Then he turned and walked
away.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         17

Would she come to him again? She had been moved by his
song; he knew that. But how long would the effect last? She
was free now; she had paid her father's debt.

Parry slept irregularly. He had put himself across as an
urbane young man of considerable power, and he was that,
but this was his first attempt to accomplish a major thing by
himself. It was his rite of passage as a sorcerer—and it was
something he truly wanted. Jolie was me best possible woman
for him in the region; with her he knew he could achieve
happiness. There would be a great deal of work to develop
her, of course, but there would also be much pleasure in the
doing of it. He did not know what he would do if she did not
come to him. He had at me moment no other ambition than
to bring her to his house and keep her.

He woke before dawn, and dressed and ate and performed
necessary tasks, his mind elsewhere.

The day passed with routine chores. One villager had chick-
ens who ranged too far; neighbors had complained and threat-
ened to kill them for their own pots, but the hens were
undisciplined and could not be restrained. The man had paid
the Sorcerer for a solution to the problem, and the Sorcerer
had given the task to Parry for practice. If he bungled it, me
Sorcerer would make it right, but Parry intended to handle the
matter competently himself.

He pored over his text on law, and in due course found it:

a procedure covering exactly this situation. It was not known
locally, but had been used in other countries, and it had the
force of common law. It was this: the owner of the hens had
to stand at the ridge of the roof of his house, and pass his right
arm under his left, and reach up and grab his own hair. Then
he was to take a sickle by its point, in his left hand, whose
motion was at this stage restricted. He would fling the sickle
as far as he could, and its landing would define the distance
his hens could go with impunity.

It happened that this particular peasant was athletic and co-
ordinated; he would, with a little practice, be able to fling the
sickle quite far. That should give his hens enough room to




18 Piers Awtbony

range. The Sorcerer would advise die client of this, privately;

then, in a few days, present the procedure. It would be done
in public, so that all the villagers would see how the man
vindicated his chickens. Once again, the Sorcerer would earn
his fee. The Lord of die Manor, seeing the matter settled
amicably, would not interfere; he might even come to watch
the sickle-throwing himself.

Parry was well satisfied. But as evening approached he be-
came nervous. Would Jolie come? He thought she would, but
also he doubted. He had done the best he could to convince
her; if it wasn't enough ...

The day waned, but the girl did not show. Parry's gloom
deepened. He had tried so hard to persuade her! What could
he have done differently? He had a whole life to live with her,
if only she chose it.

He lit a fire on me hearth. The air was turning chill, but
that was not what motivated him. It was that he had had die
fire going when she had come before, and she had sat beside
it. Almost he could visualize her there! But he stopped mat
vision; a sorcerer had no business succumbing to die illusions
he foisted on others. A sorcerer had to deal in reality, whatever
it was, wherever he found it, being always undeceived. Magic,
science, law and illusion were merely tools to be understood
and applied. Reality was his truest master.

Even die reality of a woman who chose not to come.

But he had pinned so much on mis! He knew she was right
for him; he knew he could offer her a better life man any
peasant of die village could. But did she know?

The fire blazed up, and smoked, and gradually settled into
place as the draft became established. The average peasant
cottage had no internal fire; it would have been dangerous for
the thatched roof. But Parry had been raised in comparative
luxury—a luxury he had hoped to share wiui—

He stiffened, listening. Was that a knock? He doubted it,
for me sound had been so faint as to be coincidence, but he
hurried to the door anyway and threw it open.

Jolie stood there. "Did you mean it?" she asked tim-
orously.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          19

Parry opened his arms to her, realizing even as he did it mat
he might be making a mistake. He had asked for her love, but
promised her only a job.

She stepped into his embrace. Her action, like his, was
answer enough.

FOR LOVE OfEVIL         21

CRUSADE

There was not much more to it, that night. They embraced,
then separated, aware that such intimacy was premature. She
had only come to inform him that her father had acceded to
her employment by the Sorcerer's son, and wanted to know
the rate of pay. She would come in the morning for work.

"Yes, of course," Parry agreed. He was so relieved that
she had come that he had no concern for the details. He guided
her to the fire, and brought her bread and milk.

"I should do that," she said.

"Tomorrow you shall," he said, smiling.

"My father thinks I am to be your mistress," she confided.
"He wants an extra coin for that."

"He shall have it!" Parry agreed before he thought.

She averted her gaze. "Then it is true?"

"Only if you wish it. I told you before—"

"You desire me?"

"Yes."

"But will not force me?"

"Yes."

"And if I do not wish it?"

20

Parry spread his hands. "I want only what you wish to
give."

She shook her head. "I do not understand you. Parry."

He tried to explain. "I could pay a village girl, and she
would do whatever I asked, because of the money. But she
would not love me, only my money. I want your love, and
that I cannot buy."

"I wish I could believe."

"I wish I could make you believe."

She glanced sidelong at him. "I thought you would give me
a reason."

He was puzzled. "What reason?"

"That you wished to catch a unicom."

He laughed. "And for dial I would need a virgin! I should
have thought of that!"

"Is it true?"

"That you can catch a unicom only with a virgin? Yes, in
a manner. It is possible without, but the animal is killed in me
process."

"I meant, that this is why you want me?"

He spread his hands. "No. I could have gotten an ugly or
stupid virgin for that. You are neither."

"But you could make me feel safer with you if you tell me
that it is for me unicom."

"It is an assurance I cannot give you."

"Then why do I feel reassured?"

"Because you realize I am telling you the truth, and that is
more important than a facile rationale for your presence."

She considered. "Am I really neither?"

"Neither what?" he asked, unable to follow her thread.

"Ugly or stupid."

Ob. "Yes."

"You could take me now, and I would not protest."

"Do you love me?"

"I fear you."

"I will wait for your love."

"But I fear you less than I did."

"That is good." He liked die fact that she spoke her mind




22                                                             FOR LOVE OF EVIL           23 Piers Anthony

directly. Some in the village evidently took that for social

ignorance, but he took it for innocence.
"I must go home now. But I will return in the morning."
"I will walk you home."

"No. It is not fully dark yet, and I must conquer my fear."
"Then let me give you a spell to ward away bad animals."
She considered again. "Yes, mat would help."
He gave her a pouch that exuded a foul odor. "Open this

at need. Hang it outside your cottage, or it will drive out your

family."

She tittered. "Bad animals!"

He nodded. "The smell is versatile."

She departed, and he clenched his hands together in an

expression of sheer joy. He would win her!

Jolie came me next morning, and the morning thereafter.
He prevailed on her to wash herself; she was distrustful of this
peculiar requirement, but acceded and became clean in the new
dresses he provided. Her hair became lustrous, and her skin
as smooth as milk. But when she went home each evening,
she donned her old garment and smudged her face with dirt,
so as not to cause suspicion.

She was, as he had judged, a bright girl, and Parry used
mesmeric techniques to teach her more rapidly and fully, just
as the Sorcerer had used them on him. There was an enormous
amount to leam, for sorcery was mainly a matter of knowledge
and experience in the correct lores; true magic could be mas-
tered only by those with special talent and dedication. Pew
folk had me cleverness or the patience to do it well; most who
claimed to be adept were to some degree charlatans, buttressing
their minimal magic with illusion. She learned to read, and to
fight, and the arts, so that she could study on her own or defend
herself from molestation or play prettily on the little harp he
gave her. Her flesh quickly filled out, because of the good
feeding, and she became the woman of his picture: not the
Madonna, but as beautiful.

This progress did not pass unnoticed in the village, despite
her effort to conceal it. Rags and dirt could hide only so much.
The peasant boys oriented on her, and Parry had to give her

a spell to repel them. But he knew mis would not be effective
for long, for she was nubile and the other girls her age were
getting married.

Jolie's emotional progress was as dramatic as her physical
and intellectual progress. One day she accompanied him with
her harp as he sang, and drew on the magic she was learning
to make of it far more than a single instrument. He had always
had a fine voice, but with her it was better than ever. The
music was truly beautiful.

Then she set the harp aside. "Parry, today I am fifteen. Will
you marry me?"

He choked. She had caught him entirely off guard.

"You said you wanted my love," she continued. "You have
not touched me, because you wanted my love, not my body.
I love you now, and would give you all that I have. Please
marry me."

He gazed at her. She was no longer pretty, or beautiful. She
was stunning. All that he had foreseen in her had been realized
in greater measure than anticipated. He had loved her virtually
from the start, for her potential, but had reined it in in me
interest of giving her room to grow. His love had become direct
as her potential was fulfilled.

He could have said a great deal. He did not; it wasn't nec-
essary. "Yes, Jolie. I will marry you."

She flung herself at him. "You had me worried!"

He had had her worried?

They kissed. Jolie's original fear had become an equal mea-
sure of passion. But in a moment he drew back.

"You have second thoughts?" she asked, perhaps having
one herself.

"I want to marry a virgin."

"And you think I am not?"

"I flunk you will not be, if we embrace much longer."

"But I would be cheaper if despoiled," she pointed out
teasingly. Her confidence had grown enormously. He realized
mat it was her attitude that accounted for much of her beauty;

now she believed in herself.

"It is a burden I must bear," be said with mock sadness.

They risked another kiss, but kept it restrained.




24 Piers Anthony

*  *

Parry had to pay an exorbitant bridal price for her, because
of the enhancement of her value he had fostered. But the
Sorcerer, pleased with his son's judgment and success, ar-
ranged it, and the ceremony was held.

Some anonymous party, perhaps jealous, arranged to have
a unicorn driven at the group. The ploy failed; Jolie, radiant
in her bridal gown, called to the animal, and it came to her
and suffered her to stroke its head. All the nasty gossip about
her relationship with Parry was by this stroke abolished, and
its perpetrator made ludicrous; now none could doubt she was
still a virgin. Parry was especially pleased by the look of
astonishment on the face of Jolie's father, who had thought
that he was overcharging for her, and that Parry had paid only
to maintain the pretense of licit dealings.

Parry and his bride retired for the evening to their house.
Seldom had such a precious commodity been thrown away
with such abandon!

The following two years were for them such as legends could
be fashioned from. Parry became a full sorcerer in his own
right, and Jolie joined him in his practice. For appropriate fees
they saw to it that the local weather was good for crops, that
the King's taxes fell on the village less strenuously than before,
and that the Lord of the Manor prospered. So did the local
peasants; their dire poverty became only nominal, and some
individuals even became fat.

But their main effort was shrouded from village view. The
Sorcerer precipitated it. A few days after the wedding, he paid
a call on his son. He was now a venerable figure with a white
beard. He had been traveling more widely as his son took up
the burden of local service, and had been absent for weeks at
a time.

"As you know. Parry, I did not adopt you by choice—but
had I the choice to make again, knowing how it turned out, I
would have done it eagerly. You have been a source of great
pride to me."

"Thank you, sire," Parry replied. The Sorcerer seldom ex-
pressed himself so directly and positively.

"Not the least of it has been your way with mis woman,"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         25

the Sorcerer continued. "You fixed on her with unerring ac-
curacy, and developed her with consummate skill. As a result,
you now have far greater power than you could otherwise have
had."

"And joy, too," Parry murmured. Jolie arranged to flush
prettily, though her naivete had been among the first of her
qualities to change. She now knew, indeed, that she had been
the best Parry could have chosen, and that she had lived up to
her potential. He had been me diamond cutter; she had been
the diamond.

"I do not begrudge you that joy," the Sorcerer said. "But
it was for another purpose I challenged you to acquire the best
possible woman. Even as I adopted you for cynical reason,
and gained more joy of it than I deserved, you acquired her
for reason, and your joy of her is incidental."

Both Parry and Jolie gazed at him, realizing that his visit
was not at all social. Something serious was afoot.

"Through my arts I divined that the Homed One has slated
great evil for this region," me Sorcerer continued. He did not
name Lucifer directly, because that would invite mischief.

"But this is a poor region, even after our efforts," Parry
protested. "What interest could such a being have here?"

"It is the entire southern region of France that has evoked
the interest," the Sorcerer explained. "Our village is not the
object, because I have labored long to mask its improvement
from me notice of the Crown, for tax purposes. But elsewhere
in die region peasants and their masters are doing well, too,
partly because of me Albigensian heresy."

"Heresy?" Jolie asked. Parry kept silent, because he knew
something of the matter. Heresy meant trouble, certainly!

"You of the country and village remain loyal to die tenets
of die Church, but in me growing towns men are becoming
more liberal. They question me corruption of die priests, and
indeed die entire priestly hierarchy. They are dualists, seeing
only good and evil without shades between, and to diem die
choices are clear enough wiuiout die intercession of die priests.
Indeed, they see little need for any interpretation between them-
selves and God."

"But mat means mere is no need for—" Jolie said.

26                 Piers Anthony

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

27

"For the Church," the Sorcerer concluded. "And that is
heresy, plain and simple."

"But if they do honor God—"

"Forgive me if my cynicism offends your sensitivities,
daughter." The Sorcerer had called her that since her marriage
to his son. "I do not subscribe in my heart to any religion; I
cannot afford it, professionally. I see no reason why a man
should not honor God directly, in his own way. But consider
the welfare of the Church, if the people should choose to bypass
it. If they no longer tithed. No longer attended services or
honored the sacraments. No longer heeded the word of the
Pope."

"Why, it would destroy the Church!" she exclaimed.

"Therefore the very notion is heretical. The Church cannot
tolerate that which would destroy it—and the notions mat are
prospering among the Albigenses would indeed destroy it. The
Church has kept its place by being vigilant in the suppression
of rival notions, and it shall surely continue so. Its power is
being threatened, and like any creature it will react with fe-
rocity."

"But are me Albigenses so bad?" she asked.

"No, they are not bad at all; they are good folk, as these
things go. They are industrious and increasingly educated, and
though they subscribe to asceticism, those who associate with
them are more tolerant of wealth, hi fact, some of the Lords
are using the precepts of me Albigenses to avoid the payment
of taxes to the Crown."

Trouble, compounded! Parry had to speak. "So the Evil
One sees an opportunity for mischief, because of the irritation
of the Church and the Crown!"

"It is not smart to annoy both at once," the Sorcerer agreed.
"The times are charged; any spark will set things off. Now
that spark has occurred, and I recognize the handiwork of the
Evil One. He cares nothing for Church or State, only for mis-
chief, for in troubled times his harvest increases."

"Spark?" Parry asked.

"A Cistercian monk has been murdered. That provides me
catalyst for action. We cannot abate it now."

"What will happen?" Jolie asked.

"There will be a crusade against the Albigenses. They did
not kill the monk, but they opposed his teachings, and they
will not be able to defend their innocence. The Pope will
determine mat the Albigenses must be abolished. They must
recant their heresy, renew fealty to the Church, and pay men-
taxes, which are in arrears."

"But they will not do mat!" Parry exclaimed. "They are
stout folk, firm in their belief and their independence, and they
have powerful support."

"Hence the crusade. They will be converted by force. Their
heresy will be abolished. But mere will be much pain in the
doing of it. That is why we must prepare."

"A crusade," Parry said. "Troops will come here?"

"Yes. We are on their main route; this I have determined.
Our time is limited; within a month they will be here. I regret
I was involved in absorbing research and did not survey the
political situation earlier; me crisis was well developed before
I was aware."

"How can we prepare?" Jolie asked.

"We must get away from here with our valuables," the
Sorcerer said. "Quietly, leaving no trail. In the north the dis-
ruption will be minimal; we can survive there nicely."

"But what of the folk here?" Parry asked. "They cannot
move."

"They are lost. They cannot be helped."

"But surely if the warning is given—"

"That will only make our own escape complicated. We
cannot afford to alert them."

Parry knew his father. The Sorcerer was not an evil man,
but a practical one; if he said the local folk could not be helped,
it was surely so. Yet he had to argue. "The Lord of the
Manor—he could do something! If we tell him privately of
me threat—"

"I have done so. He refuses to believe mere is genuine
danger. He will not change."

"Change?"

"I explained to him what would be required to save his
demesnes and die welfare of the villagers. He and all others
must renounce die Albigensian heresy. They must swear re-




28 Piws Anthony

newed fealty to the Christian doctrine as espoused by die Church.
They must pay taxes and penalties."

"But such penalties can be ruinous!"

"True. Therefore he will not budge. But he courts disaster.
I gave him good advice."

Parry nodded. The cost of compliance was too great; the
Albigenses and the Lord of the Manor preferred to take me
risk of noncompliance. They lacked the perception of the Sor-
cerer; they did not accept me full validity of his divinations.
"Then we must flee," he agreed.

"But I cannot desert my family!" Jolie protested.

The Sorcerer stood. "Talk to her, son. She must be per-
suaded." He departed, for he had preparations of his own to
make.

Parry talked to her. It was no good; she was too much a
creature of her community, and she loved her family. It was
one of the good things about her, and he could not fault her
for it. But he knew they had to get away.

He compromised. He fashioned a temporary retreat in me
forest whose location was secret from all but himself and Jolie
and his father. When the soldiers of the crusade came, they
would hide there. After the soldiers passed, Jolie's family
would either be all right or it wouldn't; she would be free to
leave men, having remained near during the crisis.

To this she agreed. They set about their preparations for the
disaster.

The soldiers of the crusade evidently had advance infor-
mation. They struck first at the Sorcerer, knowing mat me most
effective local resistance would be organized here. They could
handle peasants, but magic was more formidable. They sent a
mission to bum his house and slay him, before moving on to
me Manor.

The Sorcerer had seen them coming, of course. This had
required not divination but plain common sense. He had moved
his key supplies and texts out long before, but to allay suspicion
had left enough of the lesser material at his residence to give
the impression that he had been caught by surprise. For similar
reason he had to defend it. Parry was there to assist, while

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          29

Jolie hurried afoot to the village to bring out her family. She
had not yet mastered form-changing, so was limited by her
human body.

Parry and his father would change to avian form and fly
away after making a respectable and unsuccessful defense of
me Sorcerer's house. It was a loss that had to be taken; after
that they should be free of pursuit, and could relax. They would
seem to die here, so mat no fear of them remained. Their route
north had been planned; they knew at which taverns to stop,
and where to stay for the nights. They would be like other
refugees, unidentified.

They watched the troops arriving. It was a contingent of
about a dozen: common soldiers wearing helmets, hauberks
and boots, carrying bills.

Parry studied the soldiers. He had in the course of his ed-
ucation learned me basics of military outfitting, as well as those
of combat itself. "Never can tell when such knowledge will
be important," the Sorcerer had told him. Now he appreciated
that importance, for he was able to determine me nature of the
force ranged against the house.

These were common soldiers from all over France. Their
helmets were standard sugar-loaf types, basically metal caps
shaped like the pointed end of an acom. Knights had better
headgear, but commoners could not afford it. Their hauberks
were long coats of mail worn over their jacks: quilted garments
mat protected the body from bruising when the mail was struck.
This, again, was standard, though the quality of individual
hauberks varied. The main distinction was in their weapons:

the bills. These were assorted pole arms, with heavy curved
blades mounted on poles, buttressed by points and spikes. The
helms and mail might be provided by the one who organized
me crusade, but the weapons tended to belong to the individual
soldiers, who became proficient by long familiarity and prac-
tice. Each local smithy had his own variant, and the locals
swore by it, and used it in preference to other variants. The
particular curve of the blade, the sharpness of me hook, me
length and stoutness of the spike—these served to identify the
regions from which the weapons came. The bill had started as
an agricultural implement, and some were still used as such,

30

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          31

Piers Anthony

but most had been modified for war. Certainly it was an ef-
fective weapon in the hands of one who knew how to use it.

Parry had entertained a notion of fighting off the soldiers
and saving his father's house, which still contained much of
value. He saw now that this had been unrealistic; only for-
midable magic would suffice, and the makings of that would
be better saved for later use. The Sorcerer was correct: they
would have to let this house be destroyed, and make it seem
that the two of them died with it; it was the only practical way.

"Now we must show ourselves," the Sorcerer said. "They
have to know we are within when they torch it, so that no
doubt of our deaths lingers. This may not be easy."

Parry swallowed. He was aware that their supposed deaths
could all too readily become genuine if they miscalculated in
any way, or simply had bad luck. Escape was easy; escape
after seeming death was more complicated.

The leader of the squad hailed the house. He wore a surcoat
over his mail, which meant that he did not expect to fight.
"Sorcerer! Come out and renounce your heresy!"

It was a ritual challenge, done in the name of the crusade,
which was theoretically to convert the heretics. Once the de-
mand had been made and rejected, the soldiers would be free
to do what they had come for, in me name of God. Normally
they would take plunder, for this was the most substantial part
of their recompense, but the orders for this mission were surely
to destroy the house and occupants without ceremony or delay.
They would not want to give the Sorcerer opportunity to dem-
onstrate his power.

The Sorcerer opened the door and stepped out. Parry fol-
lowed. Neither was armed with any physical weapon. "Will
you spare my life and mat of my son if I do?" the Sorcerer
called.

The leader seemed to consider. "Funny you should ask
mat." Then he gestured to his men. "Take them."

The soldiers came toward die two, their bills poised. They
looked grim.

"Do I have your word you will not harm us if we submit?"
the Sorcerer asked.

The leader did not answer. The soldiers closed in. That was
answer enough.

"That's what I thought," the Sorcerer said. He flung out
his right hand, throwing powder. It glinted in the sunlight,
forming the shape of a dragon that glowered at the soldiers.

The men backed hastily away, their fear of the Sorcerer
becoming justified.

"Don't be fooled by his tricks!" the sergeant cried. "It's
illusion! It has no substance! Just march right through it and
cut him down!"

The men hesitated, but then, at the continued urging of their
leader, they braved me dragon and found it was true. It was
only a specter fashioned from the powder, having no more
substance than that powder. It was theoretically possible to
conjure real animals, but this was well beyond the Sorcerer's
ability, while illusion was cheap.

But the delay had allowed Parry and the Sorcerer to retreat
into the house. Stage One had been negotiated: the soldiers
now had no doubt of the Sorcerer's presence and nature.

"Surround the house," the sergeant commanded. "Don't
let them escape."

Parry watched from the windows as the men spread out.
They remained wary, though they had overcome the illusion
of the dragon.

"Now torch it," the sergeant said. "And kill them as they
come out."

"But what about spoils?" a soldier demanded. "There must
be good stuff in there!"

"Our orders are to kill the Sorcerer and destroy his house,"
the sergeant said firmly. "No spoils here. Anything you took
could be enchanted to kill you in your sleep. That's how they
operate."

The soldier was silent. His fear of the supernatural overrode
his greed. That was just as well, for the Sorcerer would have
had to kill any men who entered the house, lest they interfere
with the escape.

They hauled brush and straw to the walls of the house, half
the men working while the others guarded them with their




32                 Piers Anthony

bills. When they had a fair pile of dry material, they brought
a torch and started the fire. It blazed up vigorously, sending
clouds of smoke aloft.

The Sorcerer turned to Parry and nodded. This was exactly
what he had planned for. They had navigated the situation
without a hitch.

They waited until the fire was raging all around the house.
Then they climbed to the loft, where the Sorcerer opened a
panel he had prepared. They had an avenue to the outside, now
concealed by the billowing smoke.

The Sorcerer changed form, becoming a hawk. He spread
his wings and flew up into the swirl. Parry became a crow,
and followed. Changing shape was relatively easy, once the
appropriate level had been achieved; it was the change of mass
that was difficult, and the mastering of the ability to use the
altered body to fly. As far as Parry knew, they were the only
two human beings in Prance who could do this. In time Jolie,
too, might accomplish it.

"There they go!" a soldier cried.

"I got the hawk," the sergeant snapped. "You take the
crow."

Parry saw to his dismay that they had two crossbows, and
seemed competent in their use. The sergeant let fly his shaft,
and it transfixed the hawk. Parry swerved—and the shaft in-
tended for him missed, brushing his right wingtip.

The Sorcerer fell. Parry could not help him, for he was
defenseless against the deadly shafts of the crossbow. He winged
strongly toward the trees, losing himself among their branches
before the soldiers could reload.

The soldiers had known what to expect! They had come
prepared for the form-changing. This had been a more com-
petent trap than the Sorcerer had realized. Their accuracy of
information was unnerving, apart from its effect on the Sor-
cerer. Most ignorant peasants believed that sorcerers could
accomplish anything, no matter how outlandish; most educated
folk prided themselves on their ability to doubt, so professed
not to believe in magic at all. Between the two extremes, a
clever sorcerer could prosper, as Parry's father had, using only
that minimum of magic required to accomplish his purposes.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          33

But this party had targeted him precisely, and so accomplished
me mission: Sorcerer dead and house destroyed.

Parry had escaped largely by luck. He had been the second
to fly, so the less-accurate soldier had been assigned to him.
He had dodged involuntarily, and thereby saved his life.

He soon lost the soldiers; it was impossible to pursue a black
bird flitting through low shadows. When he was sure he was
safe, he paused to rest and take stock.

Then the full realization of his father's fate struck him. The
Sorcerer was dead! All his plans for escape and success else-
where were ended, by that single shot from the crossbow.

Parry's surge of grief was overridden almost immediately
by rage. He would go back and destroy those foul soldiers!
He would make a fire that would engulf them, as their fire had
engulfed the house! It required only minimal magic to start a
fire; then it fed itself. His father would be avenged!

But then a new concern overtook him. Jolie! She was at the
village, and if they had known of the Sorcerer, they might
know of her, too. If they sent a contingent to the village—

He spread his wings and flew into the air. The crow could
travel more swiftly than the human being, cross-country. Part
of what made this form so difficult was adapting his con-
sciousness to fit within it; mat alone had taken Parry months
of practice, but now he blessed that effort.

Even so, it took him many minutes to cover the distance.
By the time he reached the village, he knew from the clamor
that his worst fear had been realized. The soldiers of the crusade
were there, and they were before the house of Jolie's family.
Something was happening there, and Parry dreaded to imagine
what.

He landed and returned to his human form. He was naked.
He had not yet developed to that sophistication of transfor-
mation that enabled him to change his clothing, too. But he
had prepared for such an event; he had a cache of clothing in
a hollow tree just beyond the village.

He hurried to this now. Just as he was reaching into it, a
harsh voice sounded: "We have you. Sorcerer!"

Parry jumped up, whirling on the man, but found himself
facing a cocked crossbow aimed at his chest. He froze in place.

34                 Piers Anthony

"Before you try magic, know this," the crossbowman said.
"We have your girl, and she will die the moment you oppose
us. Then we shall hunt you down, too; we know how to do it.''

Evidently they did! Twice now, in two places, the soldiers
of the crusade had sprung successful traps. They had known
exactly where to find his father and himself, and who else to
look for. It was too neat. There had to be magic involved—
and until he knew its source and nature, he would have to
cooperate. Unless his hand was forced.

They marched him, naked, into the village. None of the
villagers was in evidence; the soldiers had evidently cowed
them and sent them to hide in their cottages while waiting for
Parry. Now they had him. He could change form and escape,
or conjure a weapon and attack; he was not at all helpless. But
he was sure they were not bluffing about Jolie, and he could
not risk precipitating harm to her.

They did have her. Another sergeant held her by the arm.
Her dress was torn, and the other soldiers were ogling what
showed. She had evidently fought, but been overcome; the
white cross on the sergeant's tunic was smeared with dirt.
Because she lacked the ability to change form, she had been
unable to escape that way. How he wished now he had taught
her that, and let some of the other arts wait!

Still, she did have effective abilities. She could mesmerize,
if she could gain and hold me direct gaze of a single person.
If they could maneuver things so that she could stun her captor
with a glance, then Parry could change to a horse and carry
her swiftly away.

"Bind him!'' the sergeant commanded.' 'Blindfold him, too;

that will stop his magic!"

They were wrong in that; Parry had limited second sight,
so that he could see almost as well without eyes as he could
with them. They were underestimating him, and that was an
asset. He needed every advantage he could muster!

They bound him tightly with rope, and put a hood over his
head, tying it closely about his neck. They thrust him against
the wall of the cottage.

"I don't know," a soldier said. "I've heard those sorcerers
cannot be bound if they don't want to be. How do we know

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         35

he isn't pretending helplessness until he's ready to wipe us
out?"

The sergeant considered. "You're right. We were warned
to take no chances. If anything goes wrong at me old sorcerer's
place, we want to be sure we've got this one secure. So we'll
test it. Keep the crossbow on him, and kill him if he moves."

"But he could wait till night, then make a vision to distract
the guard and break away," the soldier pointed out.

That soldier was too smart!

"I had a good test in mind," the sergeant said. "I'm going
to take the wench inside and have some fun with her. If he
can get free, that's when he'll do it. If he doesn't budge, we'll
know he's secure."

The sergeant was too cocksure. He knew less about sorcerers
than he thought. Parry could break free anytime, but he would
not—because it was not his safety but Jolie's he was concerned
with. But the sergeant was giving her the opportunity she
needed. The moment he tried to rape her, she would mesmerize
him. Because they would be out of sight of the soldiers, she
would be able to stun him and tie him up. Then Parry would
burst free and change and cany her away.

Ah, but there was the crossbow. With his second sight, he
could see the soldier clearly. Parry was facing away from him,
but it didn't matter; second sight did not depend on direction.

He generated an image mat caused his own body to seem
to blur. The soldier blinked, but this blurring was not of his
eyes but of the subject. Parry's form wavered rhythmically, in
a manner mat induced mesmerism. The soldier's mind became
clouded, and then the soldier drifted gently to sleep, his eyes
still open and his weapon still pointed. But now he would not
fire when Parry moved.

Parry diverted his sight to Jolie. Her parents' cottage was
empty, or perhaps the people were bound in me stall half of
it, leaving the living chamber clear. Jolie was tied, her hands
bound up behind her head, her ankles crossed and tied in mat
position. That made it possible for her legs to spread, but not
to kick. She was lying on die straw bed.

The sergeant was in me process of removing his hauberk.
The mail garment covered him from head to knee, and was




36 Piers Anthony

heavy; a sexual act would be problematical in it. So the sergeant
drew it off over his head, and pulled his arms from the mitten-
sleeves. Now he stood in his jack, the padded undergarment.

He approached Jolie. He took hold of her shoulders and
made her look him in the face. "Scream, wench!" he said.
"I want your man to hear!"

She did not scream. She stared at him, using the mesmerizing
gaze.

The sergeant laughed. "Your tricks won't work on me,
wench! I have an amulet to protect me from them!'' He touched
a silver medallion that hung from his neck. "We were warned
about your kind!"

Parry had not thought of that! Most of the power of mes-
merization lay in the recipient's belief; a counterchann de-
stroyed that belief, and therefore the effect.

The amulet dangled near her face. Jolie lifted her head and
took it with her teeth. She wrenched it away.

The sergeant cursed. He grabbed for the amulet, but Jolie's
gaze caught his own, and now her power was unfettered.

The sergeant threw himself back, and brought up his hands,
covering his eyes, breaking the contact.

She scrambled up as well as she could with wrists and ankles
bound, pursuing him. She had to catch his eyes again, to
complete the mesmerization. Then she could make him untie
her, and she would be ready for Parry to act.

But the sergeant, aware of this threat, scrambled to fetch
his sword. His hand caught it as Jolie made it to her knees and
lurched to her feet despite the bindings. She hopped at him.

Parry realized he couldn't wait. He drew on his reserve of
strength and snapped the rope that bound his hands. Then he
snapped his feet free. This was more physical discipline than
magic; the cords that were effective against the average man
did not have too much extra capacity.

"He's escaping!" a soldier cried. "Shoot him!"

The crossbowman, jolted from his trance, pulled the trigger.
The arrow fired out. But Parry was already out of its line, and
it struck the ground. He ripped the hood from his head.

His second sight remained. While he moved, avoiding the

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         37

soldiers, he saw die sergeant lift die sword and jam it at Jolie's
approaching body.

Parry leaped for die door, changing to wolf form as he did.
But fast as he was, he was too slow. As he burst inside, die
sergeant's sword plunged dirough Jolie's chest, and was with-
drawn: a swift but deadly strike. The man oriented for a second,
more precise attack.

Parry reached the sergeant. His teeth closed on die sergeant's
mroat and sliced dirough die flesh, tearing out die jugular vein
and puncturing die carotid arteries. The sergeant was dead on
his feet.

But so was Jolie. She and die sergeant fell togedier, dieir
blood mingling.

Parry sniffed Jolie. The sword had driven dirough her right
lung. She was grievously wounded, but alive.

He shifted to human form. "Jolie, look at me," he said,
taking her head in his hands.

Her pain-glazed eyes gazed into his. Instantly he mesmerized
her. "You feel no pain," he said. "Your body will bleed no
more. You will sleep in stasis until I wake you. I love you."

Her eyes closed. Her bleeding slowed. She would endure
for die time required. This had been part of her training: to
respond instantly to healing mesmerization.

Quickly he took die soiled sword and used its edge to slice
die mattress. He cut stout strips and fashioned diem into a
harness.

A soldier's face showed in die doorway. Parry glanced at
him, and exerted his power of mesmerization. "I am your
sergeant," he said. "I have dealt widi die sorcerer. I have not
finished with die wench. Remain clear until I emerge."

The soldier nodded and retreated. Parry returned to his work.
It was easy to deal widi a single enemy, but difficult to deal
widi many in dlis manner, because he could focus his mesmeric
gaze on only one at a time. The single soldier's intrusion had
been a stroke of luck in an odierwise disastrous situation; it
gave Parry time to do what he needed.

He rigged die harness to support Jolie's body. Then he formed
die long straps of it into two great loops, such as might encircle

38              PwrsAwthony

flie body of a horse. He fitted Jolie into her part, then stood
in die loops, draping one around his neck and the other around
his midsection. Then he heaved Jolie up to his back, bent
forward, and changed to horse form.

His abruptly larger body took up the slack, filling out die
loops. Now Jolie was bound to his back. He shook himself,
nudging her into proper place so she could not slide around
and down. Then he leaped out die door.

The soldiers gaped. Parry took advantage of their momentary
inaction to locate die crossbow and stomp it with a forehoof.
Then he galloped out of me village, unscathed.

He was in animal form, but his human intellect remained,
as it had in die other forms. That was a key part of die magic.
A person who transformed without making allowance for me
mind could be in bad trouble! But it was not easy to master,
and this was one reason that Jolie had not yet reached this
stage. If only Parry had realized earlier that she would need
it!

There was no pursuit. The death of die sergeant and die
speed of Parry's escape must have thrown die soldiers into
confusion. That enabled Parry to go almost directly to then-
prepared retreat in die forest.

Once mere, he reverted to his human form and took Jolie
down from his back. He carried her into die shelter and eased
her to die mattress.

Now he drew on his expertise in medicine. He had herbs
and elixirs to reduce pain, cleanse infection and promote heal-
ing. Few folk realized me importance of cleanliness in such
matters; die worst threats to life were not huge monsters, but
invisibly small ones that multiplied in dirt. The wound was
bad, but his magic should fix it.

But he realized now dial die trip to die retreat had been hard
on her. Had he attended to her immediately, in die village, he
could have done her a great deal of good. But he had had to
use a stopgap measure, and then carry her, and she had bounced
on his back. Her wound had been aggravated, and die blood
had flowed despite die control lent by her mesmerized state.
Now she was in serious trouble. Her breathing was labored,
for only one lung was functioning adequately.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          39

He worked desperately, but mere was much he could not
do. His father had greater expertise—but his famer was dead.
Parry didn't know how to make up for the extensive internal
bleeding he realized had occurred. He had no substitute for
blood! He would have given her his own, but knew mat wouldn't
work; me humors of one person inevitably fought those of
another, and made die transfusion worse dian none at all. She
had to survive on her own blood—and she no longer had
enough.

Perhaps if he gave her plenty of nourishing liquid to drink
it would restore die blood. But to do dial, he would have to
wake her. He didn't like diat, because she would then become
aware of her pain; yet diere seemed to be no choice.

He prepared brodi, duck widi die needs of life. He set a
warm bowl of it beside her. Then he roused her with a word.
"Wake," he said. "Wake, Jolie."

Her eyelids flickered. "Parry," she breathed—and winced.

"You were wounded," he said quickly. "A sword dirust.
You have lost blood. But I have you safe, and if you will drink
mis good brodi—"

Slowly, she shook her head. "Parry, I hurt," she gasped.
"Please let me die."

He was horrified. "Jolie, I'll never let you die!"
' "It is no use," she whispered with half a breadi. "I love
you, but I cannot—cannot survive. The pain is ter—terrible.
Kiss me and let me die."

It was worse dian he had supposed. She would never have
yielded to mere pain; she was a stout girl at heart. She knew
her body, and knew it could not be saved.

He had to honor her last request.

He leaned forward and kissed her with infinite tenderness.
He felt her response. Then she sighed and sank into uncon-
sciousness.

A hooded figure stepped dirough me wall.

Parry started up, astonished and dismayed. He had not heard
die soldiers coining!

But this was no soldier. It was a man in a voluminous black
cloak, widi a deep cowl that hid his face in shadow. He leaned
over Jolie, one hand reaching for her.




40 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE Of EVIL 41

"Stop!" Parry cried, outraged in his grief. "She is my love
and my wife! I will suffer no stranger to touch her in her last
moment!"

The figure turned to him as if in surprise.

The surprise was mutual. Now Parry discerned the face—
and it was a fleshless skull.

"I am no stranger," the bare teeth said. "I am Thanatos. I
have come for this woman's soul."

It had to be true. The figure had stepped through the wall
without disturbing it, at the very moment Jolie was sinking
into oblivion.

He remembered something his father had told him. There
were Incarnations, and Death was one of them. But he came
personally only for those whose souls were in doubt.

"Jolie is a good woman!" Parry protested. "She has been
everything to me! How can her soul be in doubt?"

The hood tilted. "I shall ascertain that for you." The hand
moved again, this time reaching into Jolie's body and catching
something there. In a moment it emerged, holding something
like a netting of glowing spider web. It was her soul.

Thanatos studied it. "She is a good woman," he agreed.
"There is virtually no blight on her soul. Yet I was drawn to
her. Let me investigate."

Then, suddenly, the world stopped. Parry was frozen in
place, unable to move, even to breathe, yet was in no discom-
fort. It was as though time had stilled. This was magic of a
far superior order!

Then, after what could have been an instant or a day, motion
resumed. "I have inquired," Thanatos said. "She is not evil,
but the circumstance of her death precipitates monstrous evil.
We do not know its nature, for we find no current evidence of
it, but it is nonetheless present. When it coalesces, it will be
known that this was the site of its initiation. Therefore the
goodness of her soul is balanced by the evil of its situation,
and I was summoned."

"She cannot go to Heaven?"

"I think she cannot escape the mortal realm," Thanatos
replied. "She must remain as a ghost, until the evil abates."

"Then let her stay with me!" Parry cried. "I will care for
her ghost!"

Thanatos shrugged. "Take a drop of her blood on your
wrist," he said. "She can inhabit only her own essence."

Parry touched his left wrist to Jolie's wounded breast, pick-
ing up a smear of the blood.

Thanatos set the soul against that smear. It shrank into the
blood and disappeared.

Parry was silent, gazing at the blood. By the time he thought
to ask another question, Thanatos was gone. Parry was left
with Jolie's body, and his grief.

Then he heard the soldiers coming. He had to flee, for they
would kill him on sight. He could not even remain to give his
beloved a decent Christian burial. That was grief upon grief.

He became the wolf and leaped from the shelter. An arrow
sought him, but missed. In moments he was away and hidden
among the trees. He escaped unscathed—in body.




FOR LOVE OF EVIL         43

3

FRANCISCAN

He ran till he was leagues from his home region; there was no
longer anything to hold him there. His father, his wife—

He paused in his motion, to revert to his natural form. Now
his grief struck with full force. What was he to do, without
Jolie? All his other losses he could handle, but hers he could
not. He had based his future on the assumption that she would
be with him.

He sank down to the forest floor and wept.

Then he heard the baying of the hounds.

He did not need to guess their quarry. The Soldiers of the
Cross had picked up his trail and were closing in. He would
not be permitted even his hour of grief in peace!

He was tired, for the physical exertion was wearing, and so
was the energy required to change form. But he changed into
his crow form, spread his wings, and ascended to the open
sky. He flew at right angles to his prior trail, so that the dogs
would have no hint of his location.

He reached the edge of a village north of the one he had
left, and landed. He reverted to man again.

He was naked; he would have to get some clothing. His

cache of valuables was back in the retreat, now forfeit. He
would have to scrounge.

There was a cottage outside the main village area. It was a
standard peasant dwelling, with stout posts buttressing thin
logs, the walls chinked with twigs and mud, the roof thatched
with straw. The occupant might be friendly or unfriendly; Parry
would just have to risk it.

He went up and knocked on the twisted board that served
as the door. In a moment an old woman appeared in the dark
interior. She stared at him apprehensively.

"I have lost my clothes," Parry said quickly. "I—I'm a
refugee from the soldiers. They killed my wife. If you have
anything I can wear, I will work for it."

The woman considered. He knew she was trying to judge
whether he spoke the truth, and whether it was safe to help
him.

"Are you Christian or heretic?" she asked at last.

"Christian, with heretical leanings." That was the literal
truth. "Whatever kind of Christianity the crusade represents,
I'm not it."

"Get in here, then," she said, and lifted the board clear.

Parry ducked his head and entered the cottage. This was the
stall chamber, and several sheep were in it. Their manure
flavored the air.

They passed into the second chamber, which was the resi-
dential one. The woman evidently lived alone; there was a
single bed of straw at one side. She dug out a ragged old tunic.
"My husband's, rest his soul."

Parry accepted it and quickly donned it. "My thanks, good
woman. I will earn it." The thing was patched and restitched
and dirty, but did not seem to have fleas; it had been too long
unused. That was a blessing.

She found some battered shoes. "You're about his size."

He tried them on. They were a bit tight, but would do.' "This
is more than I—"

"You hungry?"

Parry realized that he was; he had been too busy to eat
recently.




44                 Piers Anthony

She fetched a soiled wooden bowl and poured some cold
pease porridge into it. Parry tilted it to his lips and took a
swallow. It was bland, formless stuff, but it was food, and he
was duly grateful.

But before he finished, there was the sound of baying dogs.
"Oh, no!" Parry exclaimed. "They are after me again, and I
have brought mischief on your house!"

"Run out and lead them off," the woman said. "Then loop
back; you owe me some work."

"Agreed!"

He hurried out. He realized mat the boots would mask his
smell, so he took them off and carried them. Then he walked
quickly through the village, attracting no attention; ragged
peasants were common, especially now that war had come to
this region.

The sound of the dogs was coming closer. He walked on
beyond the village, until out of sight of it. Then he walked
into me forest on the left, looped about, intersected his own
trail, and put on the boots. He tromped back across the road
to the right, finding a passable path. He followed this back
around the village.

He heard the dogs arrive at the village. Then, as he moved
back me way he had come, they progressed forward the way
he had gone. He smiled briefly; they would encounter the loop,
mill about uncertainly, and the handlers would conclude that
he had changed to avian form and flown. End of that trail!
They would not suspect a pedestrian ruse from a sorcerer. At
least, that seemed worth gambling on. He was too tired to fly
again, when the old woman had offered him further hospitality.

He returned to the cottage. He knocked on the door.

"Get in here!" the woman snapped. "They'll be back."

He got in. "Hide under the straw," she said. "Till it's
clear."

He wedged under the matted straw, and arranged it to cover
him. Now he could not see out, but he could hear. If they
came back, and the woman betrayed him, he would be helpless.
But what motive could she have for that? He owed her some
work for his clothing.

Shortly they did return. He heard them at the door. "Keep

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          45

those dogs clear!" she screeched, outraged. "They'll spook
my sheep!"

There was a muttering outside he could not hear.

Then the woman spoke again: "Of course he's not here!
What do you think I am? May (he wrath of our merciful Lord
Jesus fall on me this instant if I speak falsely!"

She was baldly lying, compounding it by invoking Jesus!
This was not an ordinary peasant woman! Yet she had asked
if he were a Christian, and he had assumed that it was the
positive aspect of his answer that had persuaded her to take
him in.

Her vehemence evidently convinced the pursuers, for the
sounds of the hounds departed. The woman remained for some
time at the door, perhaps watching to make sure they were not
lingering. Then she returned to the living chamber.

"Very well, boy, they're gone," she said. "Now get up
and tell me why they want you so bad."

Parry climbed out and shook off the straw. "You lied for
me," he said.

"A villain hag can't afford integrity,'' she said.' 'But you're
no serf. Honor means something to you."

"How can you be sure of that?"

"I worked for years as bondswoman to the Lady of me
Manor, minding her children till they came of age. I can spot
(he manner at a glance, and I got a good glance at you."

Parry grimaced. He had stood before her naked.

"You had no calluses and not much dirt, and your posture
was mat of no peasant. When you spoke, you had the in-
flection of education. And you were being chased. They don't
chase dispossessed serfs; who cares about them? They chase
those who are dangerous to them: the lords and their leading
servants. A lord would have honor, a servant maybe not.
When you kept your word and came back, I knew you were
no servant."

"Maybe I just wanted shelter for the night."

"At a hovel like this? With company like me?'' She laughed,
a hideous cackle. "You'd go to an inn and talk the serving
wench into your bed for the night."

Parry had to smile. "If I had the money." But as he spoke,




46

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         47

Piers Anthony

the word wench brought about a chain of thought that brought
him quickly low. The crusade sergeant had called Jolie a wench,
and then—

"Say, lad, I didn't mean to insult you," the woman said.
"I just meant—"

Parry realized that his horror of the memory had shown on
his face. "My—my wife—"

"Oh, I shouldn't have joked about a wench! I'msorry, lad."

"They took her to—to rape, and when I tried to save her,
the sword—she was the most beautiful woman of the region,
with hair like honey and eyes like tourmaline, and—"

"The Lady Jolie!" she exclaimed. "She who married the
Sorcerer's son!"

"The same," he said, startled.

"And you are that son!" she concluded triumphantly. "The
one who picked out a villain girl and made her the loveliest
creature of all France! Now I know you!"

"Now you know me," he agreed heavily. "Are you sorry
you helped me?"

"I'm glad I helped you! I have no truck with magic, but
your father's a good man."

"He's dead, too."

"Yes, he would be the first they would kill, and you the
second. He brought good weather to the region, so our crops
prospered, our village as well as yours. I never heard a tale of
either of you wronging a villain."

"Villains are people, too."

"Not that any lord knows of! I gave the best years of my
life to mine, and raised his children right, and I thought he
would take care of me when they were grown. But he married
me to a field bondsman and forgot me, and the grown children
never looked at me again. I was just lucky my husband was a
decent man, so I got by."

Parry realized that me Lord of her Manor might have re-
warded her in his fashion, by giving her a decent man for a
husband in her retirement. But it did not seem expedient to
argue that case at the moment.

"Then my husband got the fever," she continued. "I prayed
for him, day and night. I used our last coins to buy holy candles

to bum to our Savior, that my husband might live. But the
Lord Jesus let him die, and now I am alone, and winter coming."

So she remained a Christian, but a disaffected one. That was
why she was willing to swear falsely by Jesus' name. "The
.Lord Jesus does not seem to have his eye on southern France
at the moment," he said wryly.

"And this crusade is a pot of sheep manure,'' she continued.
"They're out to get the Albigenses, who are good folk, and
they're laying waste the countryside while they go about it. I
wish they'd stayed at home!"

"So do I!" he agreed.

"I did figure when I saw you that anybody the crusade didn't
like might be someone I'd like. Well, I know what it's like to
lose a mate. I'll help you all I can. Sorcerer."

"You helped me before you knew who I was," he said.

"I did not know your name, but I knew you were someone."

"I can return the favor, perhaps in greater measure than you
hoped for."

"All I wanted was some good wood for the winter. I've got
this ague in my bones, and when I go out in the cold I get the
chills so bad—"

"I'll fetch you wood," he agreed. "But you know I can do
magic. If there is something more I can do—"

She nodded. "Let me think about it. It's late, and you are
tired. Sleep the night, and in the morning we shall see."

Parry was glad to do that. She fetched some fresh straw for
him, and he lay on the other side of me chamber from her bed.
At first sleep would not come, because of the horrors of die
day. Jolie . . .

Then he mesmerized himself, making the memories distant,
and fell out of consciousness immediately.

In the morning she fed him more gruel and some sheep's
milk. Then he went out to gamer wood from the forest, bringing
back many armfuls of sticks. "But you know," he said, "you
could make do with less fire, and less smoke, if you had a
warmer house and warmer clothing."

"I was thinking the same," she said. "Does your magic
conjure good clothing?"




48

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         49

Piers Anthony

"No. If it did, I would not have come to you naked! I can
mesmerize, and change my form, and transmute certain sub-
stances to certain others—"

"Lead into gold?" she asked eagerly.

"No, unfortunately. My father was working on alchemy,
but had not progressed to that level, and I am far below it.
Water to wine is my level."

"I'll take it!" she exclaimed. "Wine would warm me!"

"I'm not sure that it really would," he said cautiously. "My
observation is mat it may make a person feel wanner, but that
me effect is illusory."

"I'll take it," she repeated. "I have water skins!"

"Very well. I'll transmute them. Then we can see about
insulating your cottage."

She brought a skin full of water. He invoked the magic
ritual, and the skin wanned and quivered as if something had
come alive within it.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it. Magic doesn't have to be spectacular when it's
not for public show. I merely draw on the ambient power that
exists, and channel it to my purpose. You could do the same,
if you studied the technique and had an aptitude."

"Glory be!" she breathed.

"Try some. See whether the flavor is right."

She squeezed some into her mouth. She smacked her lips.
"Best wine I ever tasted! Ah, my winter seems wanner al-
ready!"

She had two other water skins. He converted them, then
went out to fetch more wood. Had he learned to conjure, he
thought ruefully, he could have brought good wood into me
cottage with far less effort. But he was as yet only an apprentice
sorcerer. It took decades to become truly adept, and then
only with the proper application and training. He had planned
to get into more advanced techniques at the same time Jolie
did. . .

He had to invoke his mesmerization again to restore his
equilibrium. His future was in ruins, his love destroyed. Why
didn't he simply lie down and die?

He pondered that as he gathered the dry sticks. It was be-
cause, he realized, his skein had not yet run its course. At me
moment he was destitute and grief-stricken, but his life had
. been spared. Thanatos himself had come for Jolie, and revealed
that there was some great evil associated with her death. Cer-
tainly Parry regarded her death as evil! He had to live to
discover the nature of that evil, and to set it right. To settle
his account with whoever and whatever was responsible for
that evil. Until he accomplished that, he could not lay down
his life. He had to be strong, and survive his losses, until he
could accomplish his settlement. And what a settlement that
would be, once he came to it!

He glanced down at his left wrist, where the stain of her
blood remained. Was her spirit really there in it? Or had Than-
atos merely tried to make him feel better by the suggestion of
her presence? Certainly no such presence had manifested.

Regardless, he would avenge her murder. Even if her ghost
should come to him, what good was that? It was her living
self he craved, his lovely and accommodating wife!

First he would have to get himself suitably situated. Then
he would have to extend his second sight, to spy out the source
of the evil. Then—

He paused in his reflections. Was that me sound of baying?

Yes, it was. The hounds were moving again—and coming
this way!

He dropped his bundle of sticks and ran for the cottage. But
he was some distance from it, having wandered far in his quest
for fallen wood, and the dogs were moving rapidly. By the
time he got in sight, they were there.

He ducked behind a large tree, knowing it would be folly
to show himself. He could do nothing at me moment.

"We know you have him!" a soldier was shouting at me
door. "You lied to us, old crone! Bring him out now!"

Parry couldn't hear her reply, but he saw its effect. "Then
we'll roust him out the easy way," the soldier said grimly. He
gestured to a companion. "The torch!"

Suddenly a torch was flaming. They touched it to the thatch
of the cottage, which blazed up. In a moment all of it was
burning, sending coils of smoke into the sky.

Parry could do nothing. He lacked magic potent enough to




50                 Piers Anthony

douse a fire of that magnitude, and had he had it, he could not
have gotten close enough to use it without being spotted and
captured or killed by die soldiers. His best choice was to wait
until die soldiers departed, then help the woman craft another
shelter. He was sorry he had brought this mischief upon her.

How had they known of his presence? They had been turned
away before, but this time had been certain. No one had seen
him except the woman, and he knew she had not betrayed him.
They had erred only in their conviction that he remained in me
cottage. That had saved him—but cost me proprietor.

Yet where was she? He saw me soldiers, but not the old
woman. She would not have remained within me burning house!
But she did not seem to be outside it, either.

He watched with growing alarm, men with honor. The woman
had not emerged! Had she refused to leave her only refuge, or
had the soldiers cruelly kept her in there to die in the flames?

At last me flames died down. The house was gone; its straw
and wood had been consumed, leaving only me shoring of
mud. Satisfied, the soldiers departed.

Parry was going to check the ashes, but now the villagers
were coming out. They had to have seen me fire, but wisely
stayed clear until me soldiers were gone. What would they
make of Parry?

He doubted they would be kind. He knew he was respon-
sible for the old woman's death. She had refused to tell me
soldiers where he was, so they had burned her out. Perhaps
they had stabbed her, so mat she fell back into me flames
and died. He had not thought to use his second sight—and
what good would it have done, anyway? It would only have
fixed his blame more precisely. It was his fault, regardless
of the details. The woman had helped him, and he had tried
to help her, and for mat she had died. To his grief for his
father and his wife was added mis score for me old woman,
whose name he had never learned.

There was nothing remaining here for him. He would have
to get far away from here, where the soldiers did not know of
him and did not seek to kill him.

He could change form and move rapidly. He had been re-
stored, physically, by me food and the night's rest. But mat

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         51

would cost him me clothing the woman had given him, and
he was reluctant to lose it. It was tattered material, and the
shoes chafed, but it was clothing, and it was all he had left of
me generosity of mis brief acquaintance.

But to trudge afoot, with the shoes wreaking blisters on his
feet—that was not ideal either. He considered, then retreated
to the deep forest and got out of the clothing. He formed it
into a bundle, the shoes inside the tunic, and gripped it with
his teeth. Then he changed form to a small horse, still holding
the bundle, and set off north at a trot. He could travel a long
distance rapidly this way.

He did so. By nightfall he was many leagues north. But he
could not keep running forever; though he was very like a horse
in this form, he had not perfected a horse's digestion, so could
not graze. He was tired and hungry, and had to revert to his
natural form for me night.

He did so, when his ears told him he was near a town. He
pried the bundle from his locked teeth and untied it. He donned
his tunic and shoes. Now he had to find a decent inn, and find
a way to pay for his keep. He did not relish the notion of
cheating the innkeeper, but he had no money.

He scouted about and found a naturally faceted stone. He
concentrated on it, transmuting its silica to glass. It was harder
to change a solid than a liquid, but silica was close to glass in
composition, which facilitated me process. Soon he had a pretty
faceted glass stone, translucent with a blue tinge.

He walked toward the town. He was in luck; there was an
inn at the edge. He entered.

The innkeeper eyed him warily. "Refugee, eh? Let's see
me color of your coin."

"I am a refugee, and I have no coin," Parry said. "All I
have is mis pretty stone I found. I doubt it is worth much, but
if you would be kind enough to accept it in lieu of payment
for the night's lodging—"

The man peered at me stone. He brought it to me fireplace
and held it before the dancing flames. The light refracted, and
(he blue showed through.

"One night?" the innkeeper asked. "Then on in the morn-
ing?"

52

Piers Anthony

FOR LOVE OF EVIL 53

"I'm traveling north," Parry agreed. "As I said, that stone
may not be worth much, but it is pretty, and—"

"Done." The man pocketed the stone. "Go ask the wench
for soup, and she'll show you your room after."

The wench . . .

Parry quelled his surge of grief. All day he had kept it at
bay, focusing narrowly on his effort of running, of finding his
way along little-used back trails so that he would not encounter
many people. A runaway horse was fair game for anyone! But
now, abruptly, that grief threatened to overwhelm him.

He went to the girl, who was a blotchy-faced creature with
just one fetching feature: a deep cleavage that she flaunted
knowingly. She leaned forward to serve him a bowl of soup,
and he gazed down the proffered valley, not because of any
interest but because it would have marked him as odd had he
not done so. Satisfied that she had his proper attention, she   |
straightened up so that the view suffered. She was a natural
tease. What a contrast to—

Again he clamped down on it, and marched to a solitary
table with his brimming bowl. As he slurped the soup, he saw
the innkeeper showing something to another man. The stone,
surely. Well, Parry had never told him it was valuable; he had
protested that he thought it wasn't. If the man had convinced
himself it was a diamond, worth an abbot's ransom, could
Parry be blamed for that? The innkeeper thought he was cheat-
ing an ignorant refugee peasant. It served him right.

Still, Parry felt some guilt. Then he realized that the man
would probably sell it to some equally ignorant trader, and
make a tidy profit on the deal. The stone might in time be-
come as valuable as others thought it was, and no one would
suffer.

He had a good meal, and a good night, except for the looming
anguish of his memories. Again he looked at the smear of
blood on his wrist. Perhaps he was just being foolish, but it
seemed that his wrist was warm in the vicinity, as if heated
by a kindred spirit. Jolie . . .

But just before dawn he came abruptly awake with another
concern: had he heard the baying of hounds? No, of course

not—and even if it were true, they would not be after him.
Not this far from his origin.

Still, he scrambled into his shoes and hurried downstairs.
The innkeeper was up already, stacking loaves of bread in his
pantry. "If I may have one of those, kind sir, I'll be on my
way," Parry said.

He needed no second sight to fathom the man's thought
process. One loaf was a cheap price to be so readily rid of his
patron, so that no one would know the origin of the precious
stone, or be able to reclaim it. He handed Parry a loaf.

"I thank you most humbly for your generosity," Parry said,
tucking it under his arm. Then he hurried out.

The dogs were definitely closer. Parry walked on through
the town, ducking around corners. Then, unable to control his
suspicion, he looped back until he could see the inn from cover
at the rear.

The dogs appeared, with soldiers holding them on leashes.
They looked like the same soldiers who had pursued him be-
fore. How could they have followed him this far?

Then he heard loud voices. "Sorcerer . . . killed a sergeant
. . . price on his head . . ."

Now there was no doubt. He was the one they were after!

Parry moved away; this was no safe place for him. But as
he fled, he wondered: how had they traced him down so fast,
so accurately? And, that being the case, why did they not
realize when he was right within sight or hearing? Twice they
had run him down, only to overlook him when he was virtually
under their noses. How had they even known he was alive,
after burning down the villain woman's cottage? For all they
should have known, his charred bones were there with hers.

Yet obviously they did know—and as obviously, they had
no really precise fix on him. That was why they used the dogs,
who nevertheless could not penetrate the mask of his changed
shoes. It was as though they were hunting a fox, who had been
spotted in the vicinity but now was hiding well. They knew
he was here, but not accurately enough to nab him. What could
account for this odd combination of precision and imprecision?
He thought he had escaped cleanly when he fled as a wolf,
and then as a crow, and then as a horse . . .




54 Piers Anthony

Then, abruptly it burst upon him: the transformations! They
were tuning in on the magic! The exercise of magic had its
own aura, that a sorcerer could detect, even from afar. His
father had known that there was no other of his caliber in the
region, because he would have detected the magic. But ob-
viously the crusaders had a competent sorcerer, who was spot-
ting the magic of others, so that those others could be tracked
down and killed. What a way to abolish effective resistance!
No wonder they had fixed so swiftly on his father, and then
on Parry himself! Every time he performed magic, he made a
beacon for them to orient on.

He had transformed to his own form after running as a wolf,
and they had come; he had thought it was a straight tracking,
but now saw that it was not. He had flown from them, and
they could not follow, but they had noted the location of his
transformation back to a man, and sent a party there in the
morning. Or perhaps they had overlooked the form-changing,
and picked up his transmutation of the water to wine; the timing
made more sense that way. Even the best of sorcerers could
not remain on watch all the time; he had to sleep. So he watched
mostly by day, and gave the soldiers a fix when he picked it
up. He would have noted Parry's changing to horse form, but
of course the soldiers could not keep that pace. So they had
followed more slowly. Then Pairy's transformation back to his
natural form had registered, too late for them to reach the town
that day, but they had made sure to close on it first thing in
the morning, hoping to catch their quarry asleep. And they had
almost done so!

So now he knew his liability. A powerful sorcerer was watch-
ing, with his own version of second sight. The soldiers were
not apt; they merely went where directed, with the dogs con-
finning what scent there was, and inquired. Thus Parry had
escaped, narrowly, twice.

What could he do, against determination like that? They
really wanted him dead!

He knew what he had to do. He had to hide, long and well.
To do that, his first step was to do no more magic. The magic
he had used to help the villain woman had cost her her life.
Future magic would surely cost him his own life.

FOR LOVE Of EVIL          55

How, then, would he survive? He had no money, no assets.
He would soon enough starve, unless he found some gainful
employment—and if there were a price on his head, how could
he risk mat?

Then he heard faint music. Someone was singing. The sound
was strangely evocative. Parry paused to listen, though he
feared that any delay was foolish. Then he walked toward the
sound.

It was a friar, a singing friar, with an alms bowl. He was
begging musically for his breakfast. But his voice was strangely
good; it was a pleasure to listen.

Then it burst upon him: he. Parry, had an excellent voice!
He could sing for his sustenance! Who would suspect a poor
singing friar of being a sorcerer?

He approached me friar. "Oh, holy man, I have heard your
singing and admire it. What denomination are you?"

"No denomination, my son," the man replied. "I am not
a holy man, merely a member of the Brotherhood."

Such a brotherhood might be easy to join. "Do you accept
converts?"

"We welcome them! Can you sing?"

"Very weU, Brother."

"Let me hear you, then."

Parry sang the refrain the friar had just rendered. He was
apt at music, and could repeat anything he heard. He sang it
well; indeed, surely better man the friar had heard it done
before.

"Come with me!" the friar exclaimed, excited.

As they moved, they exchanged introductions. The friar was
Brother Humble; he explained how they adopted appropriate
names at the time they joined the group, to exemplify then"
intentions.

"Then I think I would be Grief," Parry said without feeling
any cleverness or delight.

"As you wish. We do not inquire into our backgrounds; the
name signifies me devotion."

They went to the local Brotherhood headquarters, which
was merely a stone and wood house of the type becoming
common in towns: more permanent man the country cottages

56 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 57

but just as dirty. Another friar was there, introduced as Brother
Lowly.

"I would like to be called Grief," Parry said.

Brother Lowly looked at him, nodding. "The mark of it is
on you. Brother Grief."

"Here we each contribute what little we have to the group,
and take what little we need," Brother Humble explained.

Parry took the hint. "I have this loaf of bread. I give it to

the group."

"Bless you. Brother," the man at the house said gratefully.
"We knew the Lord would provide."

Other friars appeared as if by magic. They shared me loaf,
and soon it was gone.

"Brother Grief has the finest voice I have heard," Brother
Humble said. "I believe we should work as a group today, to
show him our way, and to benefit from his ability."

The others were agreeable, and so was Parry; this would be
the perfect concealment.

Then they found a bowl for Parry, and a hooded cloak,
marking him as a lay friar. They went out into the town for
the day's work.

The routine was simple. Wherever there was a reasonable
group of people, such as at a shopping mart, the monks would
start singing, forming an impromptu chorus. Parry picked up
their melodies quickly, and developed appropriate counter-
points that amplified the effect.

The result was dramatic. Parry had always had the ability
to project his music, making it seem to the listener as if mere
were an accompaniment. Now, for the first time, he was using
his talent for other than selfish purpose. Whether it was because
of this, or because of the added feeling his grief lent to it, or
because he was singing in company with others, or because
the Lord approved and augmented their effort, the music be-
came more than it had in me past. The voices of the other
friars assumed greater stature, becoming closer on key, and
blended more harmoniously with each other. The music they
made together was truly beautiful.

The audience responded immediately. The shoppers formed
a circle around the friars, and when the song was done, dropped

small coins into the extended bowls. The friars glanced down,
evidently trying to mask their surprise; they had not been this
generously rewarded before.

Brother Humble squeezed Parry's arm. That said it all: rec-
ognition that Parry's voice had made the difference. The other
friars, somewhat reserved before, now welcomed Parry com-
pletely. They might have dedicated their lives to God and
poverty, but they saw no point in taking the latter to extremes.

The day was a success. As they retired for the evening meal,
they had more than they ever had before, for the coins had
bought decent food instead of die usual scraps. More than one
friar approached Parry with a message like this: "I deeply
regret the sorrow that brought you here. Brother, but there can
be some good even in the worst of cases. Welcome to our
Brotherhood!"

Parry's grief was real, and his faith was suspect, but he was
as quick as the others to recognize a good situation. He had a
new home.

If only he could have shared it with Jolie!

A year passed. Parry practiced no magic, protecting himself
from discovery by the searching sorcerer. He sang with the
friars, and their group nourished. They traveled from town to
town, singing and preaching the glory of God and begging
amis. Parry had reservations about the glory of God, because
he was certain mat no just God would have allowed a crusade
in His name to wreak me kind of havoc it had in southern
France, or to kill as perfect a creature as Jolie. But he preached
me wold too, for to do otherwise would have made him suspect.
The sentiments were easy enough to cover: that God in His
greatness deplored the conditions of the world, and required a
return to the fundamental values of generosity and forgiveness.

But a strange thing happened as time passed. Parry discov-
ered that his belief began to follow his words. Generosity was
good, forgiveness was good, and the ways of the Lord might
be strange at times, but perhaps did have merit. He could not
accept the loss of Jolie, but he was coming to accept the notion
that his present life might be doing more good in me world
than his past one. Before, he had helped the folk of a single




58                 Piers Anthony

village, for suitable fees; now he helped the folk of the entire
nation to see die error of their ways, so like his own of prior

times.
Yet the evil of the deaths of his father the Sorcerer, and

Jolie, and the villain woman who had helped him could not
be justified by this. Had God simply come to him and asked
him to become an impoverished friar, he would have done so;

it had not been necessary to have good folk murdered. This
was not me way of the kind of God he could accept.

Where, then, had the evil originated? Parry thought about
mat increasingly, as the cutting edge of his grief abated and
left his mind free for thought. He considered and reconsidered
every aspect of it, and slowly came to the conclusion that only
one entity could be responsible. That was Lucifer, the figure
of evil. Lucifer must have seen me advantage in turmoil and
warfare, so had generated a situation that brought war to south-
ern France. The crusade, waged in the name of God, had




actually to be the work of the Lord of Evil.

This was a phenomenal revelation, and one he dared not
publicize. He had trouble, initially, believing it himself. How

could God tolerate such an inversion?

The answer had to be that God was not paying proper at-
tention. God was starting wormy projects, but Lucifer was
perverting them almost as fast as they developed, so that in
the end the gain was Lucifer's. Thus me worthy crusade became
unworthy almost as it formed, and Parry's grief was only a

tiny part of the result.

Another strange thing happened in mis period. The drop of

blood on Parry's wrist continued to heat, seeming to possess
a kind of life of its own. Finally Parry realized that it might
be Jolie's spirit trying to communicate with him. "Jolie," he

said. "Come to me!"
That was all it took. Her ghost rose from the blood and

hovered before him, vague and wavering, but definitely pres-
ent. Thanatos had spoken truly; she was with him, in the blood!

The ghost could not speak or act. But as time passed, he
encouraged it, speaking to it, loving it as the remnant of his
wife. Gradually it learned to manage, until it was able to
assume her living form. Bit by bit, she learned to talk, not

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          59

verbally but by sending her thoughts to his mind as if in speech.
Progress was slow, so that later he could not remember when
the stages of her renewed presence occurred. But he had his
wife again!

But his grief for her remained. This was the mere shade of
Jolie, and could never match the living presence of yore. Still,
it was a great improvement, and it enabled him to deal with
his grief more effectively, and to focus instead on what he
intended to do about his vengeance. He still did not dare to
practice magic himself, but he continued to rehearse the spells
in his mind, perfecting them for the time when he could safely
practice sorcery again.

That year a former Italian soldier, who had renounced his
ways and become devout, set out to preach. He was Giovanni
di Bemardone, and when he took his small band of followers
to Rome, he was permitted to form a band of friars. Now his
mission was spreading to other countries, and a group came
to France. The originator called his mother the Lady Poverty,
and his father the Lord Sun, and his values seemed much like
those of the Brotherhood Parry associated with. They called
themselves the Franciscans, because of Giovanni's father's
travels in France.

The local friars considered, and decided to join the Fran-
ciscans. In this manner they achieved the approval of the Church.
They continued their singing and preaching much as before,
but now their influence was greater because of that approval.

In 1213 Simon de Montfort, the leader of the crusade, won
a victory at Muret that made the fate of the Albigenses certain.
Parry felt private anguish, but said nothing. As long as the
crusade continued, he had to remain in hiding.

In 1214 King Philip of Prance won the battle of Bouvines,
and established the French monarchy as dominant in Europe.
Parry continued singing, preaching and thinking.

hi 1216 Dominic Guzman, of Castile, who had been preach-
ing to the Albigensians, was given a house for his growing
band. Parry attended, providing moral support as a represen-
tative of the Franciscans. The Dominicans, officially me Order
of Preachers, became known as the Black Friars, because of
their black mantle over the white habit. They were more in-

60                 Piers Anthony

terested in the philosophical aspects of evil than were the Fran-
ciscans, who simply preached the virtues of poverty and humility.

In 1221 Dominic died. The Franciscans held an assembly,
becoming more formally organized. Parry, as a member in
excellent standing, could have stepped into higher office. But
his thinking about Lucifer caused him to do something others
might have deemed foolish: he decided to leave the Franciscans
and join the Dominicans, because they seemed to be orienting
more specifically on the problem of evil.

Parry had never forgotten the injury Lucifer had done him.
Now he was ready to begin moving more directly against the
Lord of Evil. Lucifer had to be made to pay. But first it was
necessary to study the ways of evil, to ascertain exactly how
Lucifer operated. Once the enemy was truly known, he would
be vulnerable. Parry intended to be there for the counterstrike

against the Kingdom of Evil.

Parry had survived more than a score of years after the loss
of his father and Jolie. But he had a secret: the soul of Jolie.
She had learned to travel increasing distances from him, and
to bring him news of far folk and far places. She could do
what he could not: search out the source of the enemy sorcery.
The time was coming when he could accomplish his purpose.

4-

INQTJISITION

hi 1230 Parry and another friar. Father Service, were dis-
patched by the Dominicans on what was expected to be a
routine case. As it turned out, it was not. For one thing, Jolie
had indicated that there was something special about this one.
She had been searching for the mysterious sorcerer who had
brought them so much mischief in the past, and his aura seemed
to be associated. That was enough for Parry; had he not been
assigned, he would have petitioned to accompany the friar who
was. If he could locate that sorcerer . . .

The local magistrate had arraigned a wealthy lord on the
charge of heresy, and sought to confiscate his possessions for
distribution to interested parties. This sort of thing was be-
coming more common, but the action could not be completed
without the approval of the Church. Therefore it was necessary
for a priest or other appropriate figure to examine the case and
make the final decision.

Jolie did not like the routine dispossession of accused persons
of their assets, and therefore neither did Parry. He lived as-
cetically himself, owning nothing, his very clothing technically
me property of the Church. But she reminded him that property
was a necessary thing for those who existed in the material

61

62 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 63

realm, and fairness in its disposition was essential. Too often,
folk were deprived on trumped-up charges so that their accusers
could benefit. Something like that had happened to Jolie's own
family.

Father Service, in contrast, tended to bear down hard on any
accused, and to exact the maximum penalty. He had no villain-
girl conscience to ameliorate his dedication <o what he knew
was right. Parry found that problematical; he did not wish to
affront his companion, but he suspected that there was such a
thing as being too certain in one's sanctity.

The fact that this particular pair had been selected for this
mission was significant, for their attitudes were known. That
meant that the Dominicans suspected that this was an invalid
case, and depended on the two of them to deal with it appro-
priately. That Parry intended to do, despite the predilection of
his associate.

' 'You know that people are often condemned on very slender
evidence," Parry remarked as they rode their donkeys, starting
what he knew would be an argument. But the long, slow ride
was dull, and this would enliven it slightly.

"Better that than to risk the proliferation of heresy," Father
Service said piously.

"Pompous ass!" Jolie exclaimed.

The friar turned his head. "What?"

"My mount is becoming willful," Parry said. Had Father
Service actually heard Jolie's remark? He hesitated to inquire.
As far as he knew, he was the only one who could perceive
her, but he was not sure whether that was because he was
specially attuned, or merely because she manifested only to
those she chose. There were intriguing mysteries about her, in
death as there had been in life.

They arrived at the local monastery, and began the tedious
process of reviewing the evidence. It was the usual assemblage
of rumor, hearsay and speculation. He wondered whether there
was any connection between the terms hearsay and heresy.
His mind drifted, speculating on that. What an indictment of
the system that could be! Suppose that all heresy turned out
to be illusory?

"Where mere's smoke, there's fire," Father Service said,
satisfied.

"The idiot!" Jolie snorted. "You have to do better than
this. Parry!"

Parry sighed. He knew that the worst smoke sometimes
occurred after the fire had been doused. "I shall have to in-
terview me witnesses directly," he said.

"Why?" Father Service asked. "We have their depositions.
This many witnesses cannot be wrong."

"I don't care if there are a thousand ignorant depositions!"
Jolie fumed. "These aren't grounds to condemn anyone!"

"We wouldn't want to leave any possible grounds for later
criticism," Parry said smoothly. "It is better to nail it down
absolutely. I believe I can develop firmer testimony."

Father Service blew out his cheeks. "Very well. Father
Grief, if you insist."

"This one," Jolie said, pointing to one of the depositions.
"I have a feeling about her."

Parry picked up the document. "Pabiola," he read. "Her
testimony seems to be crucial."

"So it seems," Father Service agreed. "That alone is suf-
ficient to seal the case."

"Then we are agreed: she must be interviewed."

Father Service opened then closed his mouth. He had had
no such intention, but was now in an awkward position to deny
it.

They reviewed other documents. "It appears that Lord Bo-
fort stands to gain somewhat from this transaction," Parry
remarked. "His lands are adjacent to those of the accused. I
begin to suspect a motive." Indeed, Jolie was growing excited;

she suspected Lord Bofort.

"Such suspicion is inappropriate to men of God," Father
Service protested. "Lord Bofort is not on trial!"

"Perhaps not," Pany agreed. But if he turned out to be die
one . . .

hi due course the woman stood before them. Fabiola was
young, no more than seventeen, but looked older. Her hair
was bound back by a fillet and hanging loose behind, in the




Piers Anthony

64 FOR LOVE OF EVIL 65

fashion of unmarried girls. Her tunic was in fair condition. She
stared at the two men behind the desk with great frightened
brown eyes, reminding Parry momentarily of the way Jolie
had been when he first summoned her to his house. Even after
twenty years, such memories were poignant.

"She's been tortured," Jolie said.

Tortured! Parry wanted to ask for more information on that,
but could not speak in the presence of the others. His ability
to talk with his dead wife would not have been understood by
the men of his order!

"According to this deposition," Father Service said to her,
"you have testified that the accused has had communion with
devils, and that you have seen this yourself. Is this true?"

"Yes, Father," she said, almost whispering.

"And that when the accused discovered you observing him,
he sent one of his devils after you, and me devil caught you
and raped you?"

Her pallor faded as she tried to show some color. "Yes,
Father." It was a difficult thing for a woman to confess rape,
because it reflected on her more than on the rapist.

Father Service turned to Parry. "We have documentation of
the rape. She was examined by Lord Bofort's personal phy-
sician, who verified it."

"She was raped," Jolie agreed. "But the deposition says
nothing about torture."

Parry nodded. "Pabiola, we are not here to add to your
burdens," he said gently. "We wish only to ascertain me troth.
I am not certain that your deposition covers all of it."

Her eyes widened with something like terror. "Please, Fa-
ther, I have told all! All! I swear it!" She was eager not to be
tortured again, of course.

"I doubt this," Parry said firmly.

"Oh, Father, what is it you wish me to say?" she begged.
The significance of this phrasing was not lost on Parry; she
was ready to say anything she was directed to say, because
her will had been broken.

"Only the whole truth, Pabiola."

"But I—"

"I see nothing in this document about your torture."

Father Service started, but remained silent. This line of ques-
tioning had caught him by surprise, but it interested him.

The girl tried to shrink into herself. "I have not been—"
She could not continue, for obviously she had been threatened
with more torture if she told of (he first.

"She's marked on the belly," Jolie said.

"Remove your tunic," Parry said.

Now Father Service had to protest. "We are men of God,
Brother! We cannot expose this woman to—"

"True," Parry agreed. "We must clear mis chamber of all
but the essential parties." He glanced around to where guards
and servitors stood. "Depart, we shall call when we require
your presence."

"But Father!" the sergeant said.

Parry simply turned his gaze on me man, making a slight
frown. The sergeant quailed, knowing the trouble he would be
in if one of me friars reported him for insubordination. The
power of the Church was supposedly neither physical nor po-
litical, but in truth it was both, and all knew it. Peasants were
not the only folk subject to torture.

In short order the chamber was emptied of all but the two
friars and the girl. "Remove yourtunic," Parry repeated softly.

"Oh, Father, why do you seek to shame me?" she cried.

"We are men of God," Father Service said sharply. "There
is no lechery in our gaze. We seek only to ascertain the truth."
He had had enough experience with Parry to know that Parry
never made foolish demands, and of course he had to support
the authority of the Church. This had become an issue; therefore
he defended it.

Trembling, the giri drew off her tunic. She wore only a
bandage beneath it, stained cloth wrapped around her abdomen.
Her body was so thin and dirty that it was no incitement to
lechery. "A knife, I think," Jolie said. "But she wasn't cut
deeply; there must be something else."

"You said you have not been tortured," Parry said. "Why,
men, do you wear a bandage?"

"Oh, Father, the demon did it to me!" she exclaimed.

"Did what?" Father Service asked, getting into it now.

"He—it—it clawed me when it—"




66                 PiersAnthony

"Woman!" Parry snapped, causing her to jump guiltily.
"Do not attempt to deceive men of God!"
She broke into tears.
"Fabiola, look at me," Parry said.
The girl wrenched her gaze up until it met his own. She

seemed like a bird before a serpent.

"There are two kinds of damnation," Parry said. "One is

me damnation of the body, and I see you have suffered that.
The other is the damnation of the soul, and you are in danger

of that."

"Oh, please. Father, mercy!" she screamed, terrified anew.

"The Lord Jesus is merciful," Parry said sternly. "But He
requires truth. Tell the truth now, and your soul shall be re-
moved from peril."

The girl sobbed, but did not speak.

"There is something else," Jolie said. "I think she's been

threatened. Or maybe her family."

Parry nodded. "Do you fear to bring destruction on your
family if you tell the truth?" he asked quietly. "Remember,

God is your judge."
Her mouth worked. "I—"
"I give you my word that no harm—no further harm shall

come to you or your family if you confess the whole truth

before us now," Parry said.

A tiny flicker of hope showed. "Your word. Father?"
"And mine," Father Service said. "You have nothing to

fear from us."

Still she hesitated. "You swear?"

Father Service stiffened, but Parry cautioned him with a
touch on me arm. "Lucifer can be cruel to the ignorant. Brother,"
he murmured. "She is not conscious of questioning our word.''
Then, to me girl:' 'We swear, before God and the Holy Virgin,
child. You and your family will be protected. All it requires

is the whole truth."
Even mat did not seem to be enough. The girl stood there,

obviously wanting to cooperate, but unable to take the nec-
essary step.

"You know we are not atone in this," Parry said. "Look

at me, child." He brought out a small silver cross.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          67

She looked, and he fixed her with his mesmeric gaze. "In
a moment you will see this cross begin to glow. It will be a
sign from God to you personally, mat all will be well. Look
at the cross now, child."

She transferred her gaze to the cross. In a moment her face
seemed to illuminate. She was highly suggestible, as the ig-
norant tended to be. "Oh, it glows, it glows!" she exclaimed.

Parry extended the cross toward her. "Take it, child. Feel
the warmth of it. This is God's protection, as long as your
faith is strong."

Hesitantly she took it. "Oh, it is warm!"

"As warm as our Savior's great and blessed love for you,"
Parry said. "He will protect you always, if your sins be con-
fessed and your heart puce."

"But I am full of sin!" she cried. "Terrible sin!"

"Confess that sin, that it may be freely forgiven. Our Lord
Jesus died, that this be possible. He welcomes the penitent
sinner."

Then the floodgate was opened. "They made me do it!"
she said rapidly. "They stripped me and put the knife to my
belly, and they cut me, and it hurt but I could not scream
because they bound my mouth, and they said they would cut
a hole in me and draw out my gut and tie a horse to it and
strike him with a whip so that he would gallop away and draw
out my life and they brought up the horse and oh, I had to do
it!"

Father Service's mouth fell open. But Parry, prepared for
this, took it in stride. "We understand, child. Put your clothing
on again, and we shall discuss the details. You have done well
to tell us this."

Fabiola scrambled into her tunic, and the interrogation re-
sumed. They learned that Lord Bofort, the accuser, had done
this, threatening to do the same to each member of her family
if she failed to testify as he wished, and if she spoke one word
of this to any other party. Lord Bofort was the nemesis of this
region; she knew he could and would do all of it. There were
stories.

"But I have not been raped," she had protested as she
learned the story she had to tell.

68                 Piers Anthony

Whereupon one of Bofort's men had raped her. She, seeing
the knife and the horse nearby, had not dared protest. Therefore
she knew that by contemporary custom she had not truly been
raped, for she had technically acceded to it. But she would be
sure to tell the story they demanded of her.
Parry turned to his associate. "Are you satisfied. Brother?"
"No," Father Service said. "Justice has not yet been done."
Parry nodded. -"And it had better be initiated before this giri
leaves this chamber." He raised his voice. "Magistrate!"
The magistrate entered. "The giri has satisfied you?"
"In a manner of speaking," Parry said dryly. "We are
satisfied that we now know the truth of this situation. You will
arrest Lord Bofort, for he has incited false testimony. You will
also extend protection to mis witness and her family, lest there

be misfortune."

"But I do not take orders from you!" the magistrate pro-
tested.

Parry turned mat disconcerting gaze on the man. "Of course

you do not, magistrate. You merely do what you know to be
proper. We merely advise. The Church does not interfere in

the concerns of men."
The man became as uncertain as the girl had been. "You

really think—?"

"We believe that the truth will manifest in due course, and

would not want it to be said that any party interfered." Parry

continued to gaze at the man.

"Uh, yes, perhaps it would be best to—I will see to it."

He hurried out.

Father Service shook his head, bemused. "Brother, you

certainly have a way with you! First you caused the girl to
reverse her sworn testimony, then you—I could not have done

it!"
Parry smiled. "Surely you could. Brother, if you saw the

need." He was fortunate that his associate could so readily be
managed. That was a common trait of those whose views of
right and wrong were narrow.

But it turned out that Lord Bofort was not so readily arrested.
He resided in a castle that was defended by a host of a score

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          69

or more of knights. It would take an army with siege equipment
to fetch him out—and by the time that could be arranged, his
potent political connections would have gotten him off.

Parry realized that his promise to Pabiola would be worthless
unless he got Lord Bofort out of the way. The moment the
friars departed, those knights would swoop down and wreak
vengeance on the girl and her family. The magistrate would
bend to the most proximate power, and not interfere. Parry
had kept the girl in the vicinity, knowing that it would not be
safe to release her until the matter was resolved. She was
looking better, having been fed and cleaned, and her confidence
in the cross he had given her almost made her glow. That glow
would quickly fade if Bofort got hold of her!

However, he had come prepared for this kind of encounter,
thanks to Jolie's suspicion about this assignment. "I shall sim-
ply have to go and fetch him out," he told the magistrate,
"and deliver him to you for trial."

Father Service coughed. He was firm in his faith, but not a
fool.

The magistrate shook his head. "Begging your pardon. Fa-
ther, but you can't do that. He has little respect for friars. He
would have you beaten, or worse."

Parry affected surprise. "But I am a man of God."

"Father, we are far from the center of things. The power
of God sometimes has trouble making itself felt here," the
magistrate said.

' "The power of God is without limit,'' Parry said righteously.

"All the same. Father—"

' 'Perhaps we should merely report this to—'' Father Service
began.

"No, this is a thing that must be done," Parry said firmly.
"But I agree. Brother, it should be reported. Suppose you
return to make the report to our Order, while I go to bring the
man to justice?"

"You must not go alone!" Father Service said, agitated.

"I will not go alone," Parry said. "I will go in the company
of God, than which there is none better."

"Yes, of course! But even so—"

"Then it is settled. I will see Lord Bofort to justice here,




70                 Piers Anthony

while you relay word to our Order, who will advise the Pope,
who I am sure will be pleased. It is not every day the Church
is able to act so specifically in the cause of justice."

"Not every day," Father Service agreed hollowly.

"Really, Father—" the magistrate started.

"No more of this," Parry said briskly. "My course is clear.
Merely show me the way to Lord Bofort's demesnes, and I
shall pursue the matter as God directs me."

"I can show you, Father!" Fabiola said. "I live near there."
Which might have been the main reason she was selected as
a key witness. Why travel far to induct a peasant girl when

one was close by?

"Excellent, child; you shall be my guide."
Father Service exchanged a look with the magistrate. Both
evidently thought Parry had lost his wits, but neither was in a
position to make an issue of it. They thought he was going

naked into the lion's den.

However, he reminded himself, there had been one who had
gone into the lion's den before, and had tamed the lions.

In due course they set off, the girl leading the way, the man
riding the donkey. There had been one who rode a donkey into

town, too, he remembered.

And, gazing at Pabiola's thin back, he was reminded again
of Jolie, as she had been during their first interview.

That thought evoked Jolie. "Now don't go getting notions!"

she chided him.

"None, my love," he murmured.

Fabiola turned. "What, Father?"

"It is all right, child. I was merely talking to myself."

But the girl continued to gaze in his direction. "Who is that

great lady. Father?"

"You see her?" Parry asked, startled.
"Of course she sees me!" Jolie said. "You gave her the

cross."

"So I did," he agreed, doubting that that could be the

reason. Father Service had a similar cross and had not seen
Jolie. Then, to Fabiola: "The lady is my wife, when she was
your age. She has been dead more than twenty years, but she

guards me yet."

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          71

"Oh." Fabiola faced forward again and resumed walking.

"What do you have in mind, love?" Jolie inquired. "You
know that evil man is not going to come out just because you
ask him to."

"I know. But if he is, as we strongly suspect, the sorcerer
who spotted us, and led to your death and my father's, he
cannot withstand exposure. That may be my major weapon
against him."

Fabiola turned again. "Lord Bofort is a sorcerer. Fattier?"

He had forgotten, carelessly, that the girl could overhear
him when he spoke to Jolie. Yet was there harm in it? Fabiola
was dependent on him for her security and that of her family;

she would support him absolutely.

"Yes, child, I believe so. So am I—but my magic is white,
in support of God, while his is black, supported by the forces
of evil." Parry had made a considerable study of evil; on
occasion other friars had even teased him for his supposed love
of evil because of his finesse in ferreting it out, as in this
present case. He had learned well that evil was not always
where one expected it, or of the nature one anticipated.

"I would like to see the man who was responsible for de-
nying me my life with you brought to justice," Jolie said. "But
still, I don't see why mere exposure should hurt him."

"Because he once worked in support of the crusade," Parry
explained. "That was actually a work of evil, but was believed
to be good. He would therefore have seemed to be aligning
himself with good, and surely he would not thereafter declare
himself to be the opposite. His present situation is evidence
that he professes to be a good man. If his servants or knights
knew that he was not, and that the whole countryside was about
to know that truth, they would not support him. So exposure
could cost him greatly at the outset; his own men would turn
against him."

"I would love to see that!" Fabiola exclaimed.

Surely she would, for she had been tortured and raped by
Bofort's men.

"Do you know, Parry, we might be able to use her," Jolie
said.

"Use her?" he repeated, startled.




72                 PiersAnthony

"Use me?" Fabiola asked. She evidently understood that
he was answering questions she could not hear.

' 'I believe I might be able to speak to her, if I floated through
her head," Jolie said. "Then I could tell her what to say. It
might make a difference."

"I don't know . . ."

But Jolie was already floating toward the girl. Her form

fuzzed as it overlapped the head, then shrank into it.

Fabiola abruptly straightened up. Then she turned to look
back at him. "Hello, my love," she said with Jolie's voice.

Pany almost fell off the donkey. "Get out of there!" he
sputtered. "That's too much like possession!"

"No, it's fun," Fabiola said in her own voice. "I can hear
her now, and feel how she wants me to speak. I think I would
know a demon. Jolie is good!"

"But the implications—"

The giri stood, evidently listening. Then she said:' 'I suppose
mat's true." She was talking to the ghost within her. "But it
seems like trying to vamp a holy man."

"Get out of there!" Parry repeated.

The giri glanced at him, forming a marginal smile. "Can
you make me. Parry?" she asked in Jolie's voice. Now her

features seemed to resemble Jolie's, too.

He jumped off the donkey and strode to her. He took her
by me shoulders. "By the greatness of God, depart this ves-
sel!"

Jolie reappeared in the air above the girl's head. "You ex-
orcised me!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I'm no demon!"

Fabiola began to cry. "I didn't mean any harm! It was only

a game, she said!"
Parry turned her loose. "Some games we do not play," he

said shortly, and returned to the donkey.

"Don't be so stuffy!" Jolie said. "I was only showing you
what could be done. I can help you directly, if I work through
her. I'm not going to corrupt her, and it might make a difference
if Bofort proves harder to deal with man you think. Anyway,
what do you suppose you are going to do with her, after she
brings you to the castle? Turn her loose so the knights can run

her down?"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          73

Parry had to concede there was a merit in her position.
"You're sure she isn't being imposed on? I gave her my word
to protect her from that."

"No, it's fun," Fabiola said. "I feel like a woman when
she's with me."

That was part of the problem. Parry had lived for twenty
years without any women in his personal life, wanting none
after Jolie. The sudden manifestation of Jolie's personality in
a girl close to her age when she lived had jolted him, arousing
reactions he had thought long forgotten. Fabiola resembled
Jolie in no other respect; she was neither pretty nor bright. If
such a manifestation could provoke such a reaction in him,
what would a closer match have done? He was a man of God

now!

Jolie floated over to him. "You started to see her as a
woman?" she asked softly.

Parry nodded grimly.

"I'm sorry. I hadn't thought it through. It was almost like
being alive again. I won't tease you anymore."

"Thank you." He did not look at her.

"But I really do think she could help us—and it isn't safe
to let her go, yet. That Bofort is a bad enemy."

"Agreed."

"Then is it all right to—?"

"Do what you believe is best, Jolie," he said, yielding
reluctantly.

She drifted off. In a moment Fabiola straightened again.
"Oh, I wish I were like you!"

Surely so. Parry reflected. He was not at all sure how he
felt about this development.

' 'Now I can remain with Fabiola, or I can explore the castle,
when we get there," Jolie said through the girl's mouth. "What
do you wish?"

"I'm not sure," Parry said. "I won't be able to speak to
you there, lest I give away your nature, so you'll have to use
your judgment. Probably you should circulate, to see what is
around us, that I may not be able to see, and report to me, but
at other times remain with her."

"I will do that."




74                PiersAMthoiiy

"Pabiola," he said. "Are you sure you wish to enter the

castle? They will not like you there."

"I have die cross you gave me. Fattier," she said promptly.

"I cannot be banned."
"That is true—so long as your faith is firm. But if you

begin to doubt, that protection will falter. Jesus cannot help
those whose faith is not pure. They will try to make you

doubt."
She gripped the cross, holding it high. "They cannot make

me doubt."
Parry hoped mat was the case. He knew they could not make

him doubt, but her faith was of recent vintage. Still, with Jolie

to guide her, she had a chance.

They arrived at the castle. It was not any giant of its type,
but it was imposing enough, a motte and bailey with forbidding
stone walls. Like any castle, it was highly defensible; twenty

men could hold off an army here.
They were evidently expected, for me drawbridge was down

and the gate guards snapped to attention as they approached.
"Our master bids you welcome. Father Grief," a guard said.
"We shall take care of the donkey and the wench."

Parry stiffened momentarily; even after the score of years,
that term wench bothered him. But he forced himself to relax.
"Thank you; the donkey you may care for, but the young

woman will remain with me."

The guard paused, assessing me situation. It was not un-
known for friars to abridge their vows of chastity when op-
portunity offered. Parry had investigated more than one such
case, and taken the appropriate disciplinary action; it was gall-
ing to have such suspicion adhere to him now. But perhaps
mat was better man the alternatives; at least it gave a pretext

to keep me girl close.
They were ushered into the main castle. As they walked

down me long entry passage, Jolie floated away, men returned.
"They are drawing up me bridge," she announced.

Parry nodded, as if to himself. He had expected as much.
The lion did not wish his prey to escape without a reckoning.

They came to the main court, which was elegantly furnished.
Illustrated tapestries hung on the walls, and the floor was pol-

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          75

ished wood. Lord Bofort had excellent taste—and the ill-gotten
wealth to indulge it.

"There are bowmen watching from concealed recesses,"
Jolie said. "Crossbows."

Parry reached into an inner pocket and took his large silver
cross. He doubted that anyone would fire at him yet, but there
was no sense in taking unnecessary chances. Fabiola felt the
same way; she clutched her small cross tightly.

Lord Bofort awaited them at a great oaken table. He was a
stout man of perhaps fifty, very well dressed with embroidered
robes. "Welcome, Father Grief," he said expansively. "To
what do we owe the honor of this visit by a man of the cloth?"

"Bofort," Parry said without preamble, "there is a warrant
for your arrest for abuse of your power. I have come to take
you to the magistrate."

"Friar, you are overstepping your bounds," Bofort said
curtly. "You have no business meddling in my affairs."

"I shall be satisfied to let the magistrate decide that," Parry
said. "I ask you to leave this castle and come with me now
to me town, so that this matter may be settled."

"Because of the reckless charge of a foolish young girl?
Surely you know better than that, friar."

"You were satisfied with her testimony when you meant to
use it against your neighbor," Parry reminded him. "Now we
have ascertained mat that testimony was purjured, the result
of me torture and threats you made against her. She is a more
credible witness against you than she was against your neigh-
bor."

"I think she will not be a witness at all," Bofort said grimly.
He made a gesture, and two guards stepped forward.

Fabiola straightened, and Parry recognized Jolie's aspect.
She lifted the small silver cross. "Creatures of hell, touch me
not, lest you be chastened," she said.

The guards hesitated.

"Do not be daunted by a superstition!" Bofort snapped.
"Take her!"

The guards resumed their motion. Fabiola fixed her gaze on
the face of me nearest and swung the cross, shoving it against
his forearm.

76

Piers Anthony

The man screamed and fell back, holding his arm.
Parry knew that Jolie had drawn on an item of magic they
had learned since her death: the mesmeric bum. The guard had
not really been hurt, but he had felt the pain where the cross
touched—because of the guilt on his conscience. He had known
it was wrong to interfere with a witness protected by a friar.
Superstition had indeed daunted him.

"So it is of this manner," Bofort muttered. He made another

gesture.

"Deflect!" Parry cried, warning Jolie.

Two crossbow shafts came down from the bowmen in the
alcoves. The arrows swerved slightly and thudded into the wall
on either side of the girl. Jolie had invoked the spell of de-
flection, causing the barbs to miss. Conjuration or levitation
was difficult magic, but deflection was its simplest aspect, and
they had had more than a decade to study it.

"If your guilt were in doubt," Parry said, "that doubt has
been resolved by your action. Come with me." He strode

around the table toward Bofort.

"Clear the court!" Bofort cried. "I will talk with this man

alone."
The guards and attendants hurried out, as did the bowmen.

In a moment Parry and Fabiola were alone with Bofort.
"Who are you?" Bofort demanded. "I know sorcery when

I see it!"

"I am sure you do," Parry agreed. "You have practiced it

for decades."

"On behalf of the Church!"

"On behalf of Lucifer."

"How dare you charge me with that? I gave invaluable

magical aid to the crusade!"

"You systematically eliminated your competition—in the
guise of that support. That was the work of Lucifer."

"Who are you?" Bofort repeated. "I know of all competent
sorcerers, and there are none among the monks!"

"I am the one that got away. You killed my father and my
wife. Now I bring the power of that God you wronged, to see

that justice is done."

Bofort reflected. "There was one that escaped! A novice, a

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         77

stripling, who murdered a crusader and slipped the noose. I
had all but forgotten."

"I had not forgotten," Parry said grimly. "Now you will
come with me voluntarily to the magistrate, or I shall reveal
your nature to the personnel of this establishment. That will
demolish your reputation as well as your estate."

"You seek to make a deal, friar?" Bofort sneered.

"My calling requires mercy for me sinner, no matter how
grievous his sins may be. Confess your sins, and accept your
punishment, and I shall not add to it. Come with me now, and
some part of your estate may survive."

"I cannot come with you," Bofort said. "You know whom
I serve."

"I serve a greater one."

"No, you merely serve a different one."

"Must we try our strength? My Lord supports me; does
yours support you?"

Bofort thought about that a moment. It was known that
Lucifer quickly lost patience with those who were clumsy in
me pursuit or practice of evil. "Perhaps we can after all deal.
I will give you information that is worth far more than I am,
if you will depart in peace."

"I seek no deal, merely justice. Come with me; perhaps you
can make a deal with the magistrate."

"The magistrate? He goes with the politics of the moment!
You have incited the town against me; mere will be no justice
there."

"It's true, Pany," Jolie said through Fabiola's mouth. "The
townsmen are massing now to march on this castle. It seems
that quite a number of them have suffered at the hands
of this man, and now they see their chance to bring him
down."

"So you are finished, sorcerer," Parry said. "Come with
me."

"I teH you, you would be better off to make me deal,"
Bofort said. "I can tell you of the greatest scourge ever to
strike this fair land, now in me making. You may be intimately
involved; what irony! You can save yourself and all you hold
dear, if you know its nature."

78 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 79

"I make no deals with your kind," Parry said. "Now come;

I will protect you from the malice of the throng."

"Well, if I must," Bofort said, and turned as if to walk.

Then a bolt of energy lanced at Parry.

It bathed him in fire, then died. He was untouched.

"So you are braced against physical assault," Bofort said.
"But perhaps not against this." He made a sign.

Parry held up the cross. Something struck it, invisibly, and
bounced back.

"Why you cunning—Hell and damnation! Damn, damn,
damn!—rascal!" Bofort exclaimed. "You used a mirror spell
to send the curse back at me! There is no cure!"

"Come with me," Parry repeated.

"I shall not—God be cursed! Lucifer be worshipped! Damn,
damn, damn!—come with you, friar! The peons would—an-
imal fornication! Black Mass! Damn, damn, damn!—tear me
apart!"

"Then I shall go without you," Parry said. "Come, Fabiola;

our business here is done."

"For the love of—damn, damn, damn!—what do you ex-
pect me to do?" Bofort cried in desperation.

"I expect you to suffer to the precise degree of those you
have afflicted with this curse in the past," Parry said.

They walked from the chamber, Lord Bofort ranting behind.

"Father, what's wrong with him?" Fabiola asked, awed.

"The curse he sought to inflict on me," Parry said. "My
research in the documents relating to this case suggested that
he has used it on others, so I prepared myself against it. It
causes the victim to swear uncontrollably when he tries to
speak. Such a person cannot hide, for his mouth soon gives
him away. Lord Bofort is finished; his own retainers will not
serve him now. I doubt he can do much magic, for the inter-
jections will ruin both the spells and his concentration."

"Serves him right," Jolie said. "You really fixed him."

"I did nothing to him," Parry demurred. "He did it to
himself."

"You are a man of God," she said smugly. "You have left
worldly passions behind. But I am only a vengeful spirit; I

glory in our enemy's downfall. It was long in coming, but
nonetheless satisfying."

Parry let it go at that. He did not want to explore his private
emotions more closely.

They departed the castle without opposition; the guards had
seen enough to realize that it would be extremely bad form to
oppose the powerful friar. Outside, they soon encountered the
advancing throng. "Do not seek vengeance," Parry urged them.
"The man has brought mischief on himself."

They milled uncertainly, not wishing to oppose him but also
unwilling to give up their satisfaction.

But the matter soon became academic. News came from the
castle: Lord Bofort had lambasted his guards and servants in
the foulest possible terms, then stabbed himself. His body,
they claimed, had turned to charred ashes before their eyes,
as if burned in the fires of hell itself.

Parry saw Pabiola back to her family. "Keep the cross, my
child; it will protect you always, as it has today."

"Oh thank you. Father!" she exclaimed. "And (he Lady
Jolie!"

"God bless and keep you, child." Parry remounted his don-
key and rode away.

"You put on a humble front for the populace," Jolie said.
' 'But you know that the legend of Father Grief has been started,
and will last long in this region."

"Perhaps it is time that me power of God manifested in the
hinterlands," he said.

"This won't do you any harm in the hierarchy of the Do-
minican Order, either," she continued.

"It is true that there are projects I have wished to pursue.
Perhaps God has chosen mis way to forward them."

So they chatted as they traveled home to the monastery.
Parry tried to maintain a humble pose, but deep down he was
extremely gratified. The action of the day did not restore Jolie
or his father to life, but it went far to alleviate an abiding
frustration. He had finally settled with the one who had brought
such mischief on him.

Yet mere was a dark current, too. Thanatos had said that




80 Piers Anthony

there was great evil attaching to Jolie's death, so that her soul
was in near balance instead of being free to float blithely to
Heaven. So far he had not fathomed that evil; what he had
done following that tragedy had been manifestly good. Could
Thanatos have been mistaken? So it seemed—yet somehow
he doubted it.

His success did indeed have impact. The following year, in
1231, he was invited to meet with Pope Gregory IX. He ex-
plained to the Pope the necessity for a more ardent pursuit of
evil, because Satan had many tools among disaffected folk.
Lord Bofort had become such a tool (Parry was not free to say
that he believed Bofort had always been such a tool, because
the Pope had endorsed the crusade of his predecessors), and
was constantly seeding evil in others. Only the most constant
vigilance and understanding of the problem could keep the
works of Lucifer at bay. He expressed his conviction that the
Dominicans, as the order that had studied this issue most scru-
pulously, should be formally assigned this duty. As it was at
present, the Dominicans lacked the authority to pursue the evil
of heresy to its limit. Stronger measures were required.

The Pope listened, and seemed impressed. But he would not
act without further deliberation. He thanked Parry and dis-
missed him. But Parry had the impression that the Pope in-
tended to act, and was gratified.

Two years later, in 1233, that action came: the inquisitores
hereticae pravitatis were henceforth to be Dominicans, ap-
pointed by the Pope and subject only to him. Parry was not
the friar placed in charge, but he was the mover behind the
scene, which was exactly as he wanted it.

Now at last he could go after the ultimate source of evil, of
which Lord Bofort had been only a symptom: Lucifer himself.
Parry intended to discover the nature of the scourge Bofort had
spoken of, and to foil it. The Inquisition had gained teeth.

SCOURGE

In 1239 Parry rode his donkey to the Germanic realm. It was
fall, and the countryside was turning beautiful. He was alone
this time; the monastery had not been able to spare another
monk for such a long journey, and it was known that Father
Grief could take care of himself despite his advancing age.
"He brings grief to any who oppose him," it was said, without
complete humor.

"Whose chestnuts are you pulling from the fire this time?"
Jolie inquired, manifesting as a ghost floating before him. The
donkey, used to this, merely twitched an ear and plodded on,
ignoring her.

"The Emperor's," he replied, knowing what was coming.
' 'Frederick?'' she asked.' 'But he's been excommunicated!''
"Twice," Parry agreed equably.

"So how can you, a devout man of God, go into his realm?''
She was badgering him, but he liked it. "Because the realm
of the excommunicated is where the light of God is most
needed," he replied. "My journey here is not to be construed
as support for Frederick II, though in truth he is not an evil
man, but as an effort to abolish heresy wherever it is found.
The Holy Roman Empire does not question the authority of




82                Pien Anthony

God, or even of the Church; it merely seeks to increase its
temporal power at the expense of that of the Church."
"Big distinction! How can me Emperor fight the Pope and

not be an evil man?"
"Because good and evil do not lie in the material realm. If

Frederick stopped pushing his influence farther into Italy's rich
northern lands, the Pope would soon enough find him to be a

worthy man."

"You sound as if you are criticizing the Church!"
He turned a bland countenance to her. "Surely you mis-
understand, my dear! How could I, a Dominican friar, dedi-
cated as I am to the eradication of evil, possibly do that?"
She laughed. "I wish I were flesh again. Parry! I'd corrupt

you so rapidly!"
He nodded. Jolie was great company in spirit, but would

have been much better alive. He had done well as a monk in
large part because of her advice, and because he had no interest
in mortal women while Jolie was with him. If she ever should
leave him, appearing no more in her ghost semblance, he would
be in trouble, for even at age forty-nine he did notice the young

women.

"But I don't think you ever really answered my question,"

she continued. "What is your present mission?"

"As you know, I have labored diligently to extirpate heresy
from the fair face of France. Most heretics are simple, uned-
ucated folk who accede readily to correction when it is made;

they merely have known no better. Thus my labors are mainly

of enlightenment and persuasion."

"You're stalling. Parry! Don't use your Guest Lecturer pose

on me. What's so special about this case?"

"Well, some few are hardened in their error, resistive to the
amelioration of normal efforts. Such cases are referred to the
higher structure of the Inquisition. I have shown a certain talent
in this regard, so have been assigned increasingly to the most

difficult cases."

"Parry, you know I know all this!" she exclaimed in ex-
asperation. Then her eyes narrowed. "Is it a female heretic?

A luscious young woman who—"
Now he laughed. "I love it when you're jealous, Jolie! But

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          83

I must confess I have an additional motive: not only do I wish
to abolish heresy wherever it sprouts in its weedlike profusion,
I seek to discover Lucifer's larger purpose. Do you remember

Lord Bofort?"

"That girl!" she exclaimed. "What's her name—Pabiola!
The one that demon framed! I knew you had a woman on your

mind!"

"That was years ago, and I only remember her because you
animated her. Oh, Jolie, if you ever could return to life—"

"I could only do it halfway, with me consent of the living
body. And that would ruin your celibacy. You're better off
with me dead." She lifted her head with a flirt of her hair.
"Now stop changing the subject and tell me about this partic-
ular mission."

"From Lord Bofort, before I left him, I learned that Lucifer
is up to some terrible scourge. I refused to deal with him, yet
always since have regretted it. What did he know, and why
did he think I should have any connection with it? That haunts
me. This upcoming heretic may be a genuine agent of Lucifer;

there are certain signals. If so, I may at last learn from him
the nature of this thing. That is what makes this potentially
significant, for me and perhaps for the world. All I know now,
from those scattered hints I have gleaned from recanting her-
etics, is that this scourge will devastate all Europe, perhaps
destroying the Church itself, and that it will occur about a
decade from the time I first learned of it. That was nine years

ago."

"So you still have one more year to ferret it out."
"No, not necessarily. It could happen before the time ex-
pires, or after. I can't afford to let it go any longer than ab-
solutely necessary. Suppose it happens this year?"
"Is there any sign of such monstrous evil?"
"No, there isn't. That's the most disturbing aspect of all. I
see nothing capable of devastating me entire continent and
delivering the majority of its souls into the power of the arch-
enemy. To the north I see King Henry ffl of England squan-
dering the purse of that nation in foolish wars and pointless
extravagance; he lacks the wit to bring such disaster on any
except his own head. To the south I see the Christian states of




84                 Piers Anthony

Castile, Aragon and Portugal wresting the Iberian peninsula
from the Moorish infidel; that is hardly any tragedy. Here in
France Louis DC is close to an ideal King; when he has had
more time to establish himself. Prance will benefit greatly. To
the east is the Emperor, who has too much to gain from con-
trolling central Europe to risk destroying it. In short, I see no
sign of any evil so monstrous as to devastate the entire continent
and deliver the majority of its souls into the power of the
archenemy. Europe is its usual chaotic self, neither better nor
worse than it was the century before. The matter baffles me!
Yet I am sure it is not bluff; somewhere, somehow, a terrible
scourge is in me making."

"I hope you find it out. Parry," she said, and faded.

He hoped so, too!

Near the border Jolie brought another matter to his attention.
"There is a group of orphan children that need to be taken to
a nunnery to the east," she announced. "But the nun who is
supposed to take them is afraid to travel through the Black
Forest without an armed escort, and there is none available."

Parry sighed. "What do you want of me, Jolie?"

' 'Why, I think you could readily convey those poor children.
No robber would dare to bother you."

"I appreciate your confidence," he said dryly. "Where are

they?"

"Right this way, noble knight!" She floated before him,
guiding him. Parry was just thankful that he had taken the
trouble to leam the language of German, for this was surely a
German nun guiding the children to her home nunnery.

The nun was only too glad to accept his offer. She knew
that a Dominican friar was the best available company for a
dangerous trip. Once again Jolie had served as his conscience,
alerting him to a deed he would not have thought of on his
own. He was a better man and a better friar because of her,
he knew. That was ironic, because he would never have become
a friar if she had lived, and would not have remained one had
she somehow been restored to life.

There turned out to be eight children, all girls, ranging in
age from five to twelve. They were barefoot and in rags, but

FOR LQVE OF EVIL         85

reasonably healthy and clean. The nun had taken good care of
them, to the best of her resources.

They started along the path. Parry offered his donkey to the
nun. She accepted, but did not ride herself; instead she put the
smallest two girls on it.

The forest closed in densely soon after they left the, village.
The road degenerated to a trail, so that they had to go single
file. Parry led the way, and the donkey brought up the rear,
with the nun keeping a wary eye from the middle. They had
hoped to reach an established camping spot by nightfall, but
a sudden storm drenched them and made the trail a wash of
mud. The children began to whimper. It became obvious that
they would have to camp for me night in the wilderness.

"There are edible berries," Jolie said. "And some ferns.
We can feed them and bed them down."

Parry relayed her suggestions, and soon the girls were for-
aging for their supper and sleep. Under his guidance they
managed to form crude shelters from boughs and sticks, and
to gather sufficient fem for comfort.

Then the shapes and sounds of the dusk manifested. There
was an eerie howl that sent the girls clustering together, ter-
rified, and rustlings amidst me foliage of the trees.

"These are merely wild creatures," Parry said. "They will
not harm us."

"The holy man says not to worry," the nun told the children.
"Now settle and sleep."

They settled, clustering together in their shelters. Parry con-
sidered, then hoisted himself into a tree. Safely out of sight of
the party, he could change into the form of an owl and roost
with relative comfort and safety. One of the pleasures of recent
years was his renewed facility with magic, now that he no
longer feared being tracked down by the mysterious sorcerer.
He used magic only for proper purpose, of course, and always
discreetly; it was too easy for ignorant folk to assume that any
magic was evil. The truth was, the Church was based on magic,
from the simplest rituals in the Mass to the full-scale miracles;

without it, the Church would soon falter and fail. That was
one of the most compelling reasons to extirpate heresy: if folk
were permitted to practice magic independently, the monopoly




86                 Piers Anthony

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

87

would be broken. And, of course, without the guidance of the
Church, folk would inevitably drift into evil magic and Lucifer
would profit. Good magic was a marvelous tool, but evil magic
was treacherous.

There was a commotion at the shelters. The nun muttered,
evidently investigating. Then there was a piercing scream.

Parry flung himself out of the tree. That had been the nun
screaming!

She had cause. In the slanting moonlight was the shape of
a wolf.

Stories about wolves abounded, but Parry had taken the-
trouble to research the matter and knew that wolves almost
never attacked man, only man's domesticated animals. That
was why a lone shepherd boy could protect a flock of fat sheep
from predation; it was not his presumed skill with a weapon,
but the fact that wolves feared man and avoided him whenever
possible.

With certain key exceptions. When an animal was inhabited
by a demon, it was no longer in full control of itself and acted
irrationally. The demon did not care for its welfare, and indeed
soon ground the animal to a miserable death. In me final stages
me animal foamed at the mouth, and fled water. But before it
died, it tried its best to bite some other creature, such as a
man, by that action transferring the demon to the man. Thus
the course continued indefinitely, with relatively few demons
causing misery and death for an endless chain of victims.

This was of course a job for the friar. No wonder the nun
had screamed; she, better than any, had known the creature
for what it was: a sending of Lucifer.

"Do not move," Parry said clearly. "Motion attracts it.
Remain where you are, and I shall deal with it."

The nun crossed herself. The wolfs head snapped about to
orient on her. "No motion!" Parry cried. "The cross only
baits it! Demons are,infuriated by the cross!"

The nun froze, realizing the troth of his cautioning.

Now Parry advanced slowly on the monster. "Orient on me,
demon," he said. He brought out his own silver cross. "Gaze
on this, 0 accursed one! These good children shall not be
yours!"

The wolf did orient on him. Its eyes seemed to glow, but it
maintained its uncanny silence. No growl, no sound of breath-
ing, just that silent assessment. What was it waiting for?

"Parry!" Jolie cried, manifesting. "There are others behind
you—and not just wolves!"

Parry turned. There were two other wolves—and above them,
hovering low, several dark bats. All centered on him unwa-
veringly.

Parry realized that he was up against no ordinary thing. This
was a deliberate, concerted effort. In fact, it was a trap. Lucifer
was moving against him directly.

"Behind!" Jolie cried. He whirled. The first wolf was almost
upon him, jaws open, faint bubbles showing. He brought the
cross down, and the creature bristled and withdrew, grudg-
ingly.

"Behind!" Jolie cried."A bat!"

Parry whirled again, lifting the cross as the bat swooped at
his head. The thing shied clear, but not before the malice
showed in its tiny eyes. A drop of saliva splatted against Parry's
cloak.

Then he returned to the wolf, who was crouching, about to
spring. He thrust the cross at its snout, and it snarled silently
and ducked away.

"Another wolf! Behind!"

He parried that one with a quick motion, then whipped the
cross back to counter the first again. He would already have
been bitten, had not Jolie been present to watch his rear.

So Lucifer had at last realized the effectiveness of Parry's
quiet campaign against evil, and was acting to eliminate him.
This was a compliment, of a sort! But how was he to escape
this dreadful trap? He knew that a single bite of any one of
these possessed creatures would doom him; the process might
take days or weeks, but there was no cure for this type of
malady.

"Behind!" Jolie screamed.

Parry jumped aside, so that whatever was coming at him
would miss, and held the cross toward the wolf in front that
was already tensing for a leap. The tactic worked; the bat spun
by his ear, only its wingtip touching. But the wolf was unable




88 Piers Anthony

to halt its coordinated action; it sprang, and its body struck
Parry's hip.

Parry chopped downward with the cross. It rammed against
the wolfs back. There was a kind of flash.

Now the creature made a sound of pure anguish, as the
demon within felt the power of that enchanted talisman. It
twisted to the ground, shuddering and stiffening. Ordinary folk
were affected primarily by their own belief, but truly possessed
creatures were literally smitten, being animated by the humors
of Hell.

But me others were closing in from every point of me com-
pass. Parry saw there was no way to thwart them all physically.
He had to have some more effective measure against them.
But what was there?

"Sing, Parry!" Jolie cried.

Then he knew what to do. He drew upon his lifelong ability
to sing and improvise, and he set aside his inhibitions and
unbound his voice. He sang to the wolves and the bats:

Creatures of me wild, hark unto me!

I am not your enemy!

Your enemy is the demon inside each one of you,

Who leads your soul to damnation!

His voice reached out into the gloom of the forest, gaining
authority and conviction. He saw the children staring raptly,
and the nun with eyes and mouth open in astonishment. The
Dominican friars did not sing, only the Franciscans!

The wolves stood at bay, and the bats hovered uncertainly.
They were listening, but not in a position to respond. They
were waiting for their chance to charge again.

Creatures of the wild, hark unto me!

I am not your enemy!

Rise, throw out the evil spirit within your body!

Cast it out, and be free!

God forgives the worst human sinner who is penitent;

Even so will God forgive you.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL          89

Cast out the unnatural thing that possesses you
Cast it out, and be natural!

He was pleading to the hosts that the demons were using.
He doubted that the animals could understand his words, but
they understood his message, for the song was imbued with
it. Possession of this nature was thought to have no cure, but
now he was going to try to change that.

If your demon is too strong,
If it strangles you rather than be evicted,
Come to me, and I will banish it
With the touch of the Holy Cross.

The song was having its impact! The possessed creatures
were struggling to banish their demons, and could not; but
neither could the demons make them attack the singer.

If you cannot come to me,
Wait where you are.
I will come to you;

I will touch you and heal you.

But when he approached the nearest wolf, it shied away.

Still the demon was too strong, or the faith of the wild creatures

too weak. More was required.

"Be like them!" Jolie cried. "Show them. Parry!"
Parry nodded. As always, Jolie's advice was good.

Creatures of the wild!
I am your friend!
I know your natures!
I am one of you!

Then he stopped singing and transformed himself into the
form of a wolf. The cross remained in his right paw; he lowered
his head and took it between his teeth.

He approached the nearest wolf, and this time the creature
stood its ground. The silver cross touched its nose. There was




90                 Piers Anthony

another exclamation of anguish—but this time the demon spirit

fled. The wolf collapsed, but it was free.

Parry approached the second wolf, and touched it similarly.
Then the third. Now all three lay panting, exhausted by the
terrible animation they had suffered, but restored to their nat-
ural states.

Parry changed to bat form. He was a huge bat, because the

cross was too heavy for a small one. He flew slowly up,
approaching one of the hovering bats, and touched it with the
cross. It screamed silently and fell to the ground, but the other
two did not flee. They hovered where they were, able to balk
the demons to this extent. He approached and touched each,

and each fell to the ground.
Now Parry returned to his human form. "Rise!" he cried

to the wild creatures. "Go your ways, and suffer no demon
spirits again! Live your lives as they are meant to be, far from

me human kind!"
The creatures stirred. The wolves climbed to their feet and

walked unsteadily into the darkness. The bats paused, then
launched themselves one by one into the air, and flew away.
All that remained was the group of staring children, and the

staring nun.

"I think you have some explaining to do, love," Jolie said,

fading out with an impish grin.

Surely so! Parry turned to face the small audience. "What
did you see?" he inquired, as if this were routine.

For a long moment there was silence. Then the smallest

child piped, "Wolves!"
The next smallest added "Bats!"
"Demons!" several chorused.
"An angel!" another breathed.
"That was the Madonna!" the oldest corrected her. "And

she warned you when things were behind you!"

"And she told you what to do!"
The others nodded. They had seen it too. They turned to me

nun inquiringly.
The nun spoke with difficulty. "I saw—a vision," she said.

"Perhaps Father Grief will clarify for us its nature."
So she hadn't seen Jolie, but realized that the children had

FOR LOVE OF EVTL          91

seen something. She surety had seen Parry change form, but
hesitated to proffer an explanation for that, in case me others
had not seen the same.

He would put them all at ease. "It was a vision," he agreed.
"Evil stalked us in the form of possessed wild creatures, but
it was put to rout by die power of Jesus." He held aloft his
cross. "That is all that happened, but the manner the struggle
between good and evil manifests is subject to individual per-
ceptions."

The younger giris looked blank.

"Each person sees it her own way," Parry said quickly, and
the blank looks cleared. "No way is wrong; each is suited
exactly to the person. So some of you may have seen wolves
and bats, while others saw infernal creatures animating them.
Some may have seen and heard an angel helping me, while
others saw me Madonna. It does not matter; the important
thing is that God saw die need, and extended His help by
advising me and enabling me to drive off die creatures." He
smiled. "Some may even have seen me change form, to carry
me cross to die creatures in their own semblance. This too is
fair."

Now me nun nodded. It seemed that that was die form of
me vision she had seen. The giris, being more innocent, had
seen me angel. Jolie was seldom apparent to adults, who were
inevitably corrupted by life and cynicism, but children retained
die openness to see spiritual diings.

"And you sang. Father!" a giri exclaimed. "When the de-
mons were closing, you sang die evil from diem!"

"Song is a wonderful force for good," Parry agreed. "Re-
member mat, when it is time to sing in a service at die nun-
nery."

Again die nun nodded; she approved of that. These children
should be model students, because of dieir experience here.
But diere seemed to be a certain reservation about her, and
Parry understood mat too. He had demonstrated too much
magic for comfort.

They completed me trek through die Black Forest without
further event, and delivered die giris to die nunnery. Parry

92                 Piers Anthony

wished there was more he could do for them; he knew that
they faced a life of only slightly diminished privation, for the
nuns had little to offer in the way of material things. But the
face of each child shone with an inner joy and wonder that
had not been there at the start of the journey. The vision
evidently remained with them, and perhaps that was enough.
Jolie manifested as he resumed his donkey ride alone. "Parry,

I'm worried," she said.

"I had not realized that spirits were capable of worry," he

remarked.

"I'm serious! Lucifer never went after you directly before.''

"True. Obviously he knows my mission. That must be a

good sign."

"A good sign? Parry, you have done well all these years

because you have never taken proper credit for your accom-
plishments. Lucifer never realized that you were the one re-
sponsible for all that good. But now, if he knows, he'll be out
to get you. The demons in the forest may be only the begin-
ning!"

"It is good, because it means I am at last getting close to

me truth," Parry explained. "Lucifer does not want me to

interview this particular heretic."

"But it's dangerous! Who knows what horror will menace

you next?"

"Accomplishment is seldom without risk. I trust you will

keep watch over me, as you have these thirty years."

"I have no choice," she grumbled. "You hold my blood

hostage."

He glanced at the stain on his wrist. Her soul was still housed

there. "Certainly it has been good to have you always with
me, always as pretty as you were in life."

"I think you like me better as a spirit than as a living

woman!"
That stung him. "I would give anything to have you alive,

Jolie! But since even the semblance of that poses horrendous
complications, I must be satisfied with that aspect of you that
is available. Yet if I could release your spirit to go to Heaven

where it belongs, I would do so."

"Oh, it's not so bad being a ghost," she said, mollified.

FOR LOVE Of EVIL          93

"Though I do wonder what the great evil can be that keeps
me fixed in perfect balance. I have seen no evil in your life
since my death, and it is true that I would be old and fat by
now if I had lived."

"And I would not be in the Church," he added. "I agree:

it was terrible to have you die, but I perceive no evil apart
from that. I can only presume that it has not yet manifested."

"But now Lucifer knows you. Oh, Parry—I fear that evil
is close upon us!"

"We shall oppose it together," he said with conviction.

"Together," she agreed, and floated close for an ethereal
kiss. Then she faded out.

There were no further episodes with evil as he completed
his journey. Parry concluded that Lucifer was not truly aware
of him, just of the fact that a friar had been dispatched to
handle this case. So a contingent of demons had been sent to
eliminate that friar. The fact that no others had come meant
either that the Lord of Evil had not been paying close attention,
this being a minor matter, or that he lacked other forces at the
moment in this vicinity. Probably the former. Still, if this
heretic did have critical information, and Parry were able to
get it, then Lucifer would certainly pay attention. Then things
could become difficult.

The heretic was an old man, gray of beard and frail. He was
not comfortable when Parry saw him; he was in a dank dun-
geon, naked on the floor on his back. His wrists and ankles
were roped to stakes so mat he could not move them. There
was a flat board on his front, and on this were set metal weights.
The man was breathing only in shallow gasps, unable to inhale
properly because of the pressure on his chest.

"What is this?" Parry demanded, outraged.

"It is the peine forte etdure. Father," the gaoler said. "The
strong and hard pain."

"I know what it is!" Parry snapped. "What I mean is, why
is mis punishment being practiced on this person? I was told
he has not made a plea."

"This is not punishment. Father. It is merely an inducement
to cause him to make his plea."




94

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         95

Piers Anthony

"An inducement? It looks like torture to me!"

"By no means. Father. He is not being cut, his bones are
not being dislocated, he is not being burned or starved. He is
merely being encouraged to plead."

' 'Because if he does not plead guilty or innocent, you cannot
try him," Parry said, disgusted.

"True, Father. Criminals are becoming obstinate; they dally
forever, clogging the processes of justice. They must be made

to plead."

"But under such duress, any man would plead, even if he

had no guilt!"

"No, Father. Some die rather than plead."

"So most plead guilty? What happens to them?"

"They forfeit all their goods, and are let go."

"And what of those who plead innocent?"

' 'They are found guilty, and punished for their intransigence,
and their property is forfeit."

"I can see why they try to avoid making pleas," Parry said
dryly. "Their alternatives are starvation or torture and star-
vation. Did it ever occur to you that a man might be innocent,
undeserving of any punishment?"

"No, Father," the gaoler said, surprised by his naivete.
"We have only guilty here."

Jolie appeared. "Stop talking and get him out of mis!" she
exclaimed. "The poor man!"

Parry agreed. "Release the prisoner," he said.

"But he has not yet made his plea!"

"I wish to talk to him. That would be hard to do if he can't

breathe."

"Oh. In that case I will lessen the weights just enough to

enable him to answer."

"No. Remove them all, and unbind him. I want him free

of fetters."

"But Father, this is most irregular!"
Parry delivered a steely stare. "Gaoler, do you value your

soul?"
The man gave way, grudgingly. In due course the prisoner

was free. But he was unable to rise; he lay where he was, his
gasps diminishing.

Parry tried to help him, but me man groaned. He had been
bound so long that the circulation had suffered in his hands
and feet, and his joints hardly functioned. Parry had to let him
be; it was the kindest thing he could do.

"I have come to talk to you," Parry said gently. "I regret
that you were put under such duress; I did not know of it until
I saw you. I will do what I can to help you escape this situation,
if you will return to the bosom of our Lord and tell me what
I wish to know."

"I cannot!" the man gasped.

"Surely you can," Parry said gently. "God is forgiving,
for the truly penitent."

"No, I cannot, for I dare not make a plea!"

Parry nodded. If the man confided that he had had dealings
with Lucifer, that would be confirmation of his guilt, and the
savage retribution of the law would wipe him out. If he denied
it, and in so doing swore falsely, there would be no salvation
for him. It was certainly a difficult situation.

But the order thought there was evidence that this was a true
heretic, and Lucifer had tried to prevent Parry's arrival to
interview him. This could be the source of the information
Parry had to ferret out. He could not let it go without making
his utmost effort.

"Let me speak candidly," he said. "It is my desire to save
your soul from the eternal fires of damnation if at all possible.
It is also my desire to leam certain information. I am not
without influence. Cooperate with me, and perhaps your sit-
uation will ameliorate."

The man's eyes nicked to the gaoler. He looked like a hunted
animal. He did not speak.

That was enough for Parry. The suspect did know something!

Parry addressed the gaoler. "Allow me to interview this
man alone, if you please."

The goaler's look was crafty. "I do not please. Father. This
criminal is dangerous! I must remain here to protect you from
possible harm."

"This man can hardly breathe, let alone stand," Pany pointed
out. "He represents no threat to me. He is alarmed by your
presence; I believe he will talk more freely in private with me."




tf                 Piers Anthony

The canny look intensified. The goaler thought there might
e revelation of hidden money. "I cannot—"

Parry fixed him with an imperial glare. "Leave us!"

Reluctantly, the man retreated. He exited the cell, but stood
ust beyond it, well within hearing range.

"Go elsewhere," Parry said, his patience fraying.

"But I cannot leave the cell unlocked!"

"Lock it, men!"

The man hauled the heavy door shut, and barred it from
)utside. Parry knew he was standing just beyond it, his ear
•training, but was assured that low voices would not carry

sufficiently to satisfy the man.

"Now the gaoler is gone," he told the suspect. "You may
speak freely to me, and I will keep your confidence."

"I—wish I could," the man said.

Parry realized that the man needed help. "I understand the
situation you are in. You cannot plead, because no matter what
you plead, they will deprive you of your property and perhaps
your life." He saw the agreement in the haunted eyes. "You
have perhaps a family, who would suffer privation, and you
do not wish that." Again the muted agreement. "But if there
were only some way you could get out of this without hurting
those you love, you would take that course."

"Yes!" the man breathed. Now he was recovered enough
to struggle to sit up, and Parry assisted him.

"Therefore your problem may be material rather than spir-
itual. Suppose you were to be found innocent of the charge

against you?"

For a moment the man brightened; then he slumped.
Parry continued to read the signals. This man had dealt with

Lucifer! But now regretted it.

"You were in need—your family was in need—so you did
what you thought you had to do, to deliver them from grief.
What did you offer Lucifer? Surely not your soul!"

"Not my soul!" the man agreed.

"But what else would the Lord of Evil desire of you?"

The man struggled. "My—my silence."

Parry concealed his mounting excitement, and spoke calmly.

"Your silence about what?"

FOR LOVE Of EVIL         97

"I—" But the man balked, hesitant to convict himself.

"And for your silence on this score, Lucifer paid in gold,"
Parry said, as if there had been no balk. "It came as if by
accident; you found buried coins—" The man was nodding
as he spoke; he was hitting close enough to the mark.

"And when you spent them, the neighbors became suspi-
cious, or rapacious, and turned you in, hoping to gain those
coins for themselves."

"Yes!"

"And now if you confess to dealing with Lucifer, you are
lost, and if you do not confess, you will be tortured until you
do confess. In either case you will lose the money, and your
family will be worse off than before you started."

"Yes. Father."

Parry fixed him with a gentle variant of his stare. "Did it
not occur to you that Lucifer broke his bargain with you? He
gave you the money—then alerted the neighbors so that you
would lose it and be worse off than before."

The man's mouth fell open.

"Lucifer reneged," Parry continued relentlessly. "You owe
the Lord of Evil nothing!"

"Nothing!" the man echoed.

"But you may redeem your soul and perhaps your family
if you cooperate with God. God does not renege. God will
welcome you back to His fold. All that He requires is genuine
repentance and dedication to His will."

"My family . . ."the man said, daring to hope.

"First we must ascertain what we have," Parry said. "Tell
me me thing about which Lucifer bought your silence, and I
will see what I can do."

Suddenly it poured out. "Father, I am a historian! All my
life I have studied the scrolls of the ancients, and tried to fathom
me courses of mankind. I have questioned travelers, learning
about their homelands, piecing together the tapestry of the
mortal realm. Oh, the tragedies that abound, the wasted lives!
But recently I learned of a terrible scourge that is building—"

The man paused to recover his breath. That was just as well,
because Parry needed a moment to steady himself. The scourge!
Here it was at last!

98 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE Of EVIL 99

"And I saw that it was coming this way," the man contin-
ued. "Others have not noticed, because it is as yet far away.
But it is coming here, to the ruin of us all! I sought to publish
my discovery, but lacked the money, and then—"

"Then Lucifer proffered much greater wealth—for your si-
lence," Parry said.

"Yes. He came to me in the form of an ordinary man, but
I knew him for what he was. He told me where to find the
coins, and said I could do whatever I liked with them, as long
as I kept silent about my discovery. And I—my wife was
ailing, she needed better food—"

"And you realized that if you did not agree to do as Lucifer
wished for gold, he might coerce you by some less amicable
means," Parry said.

"Yes. He—he frightened me! I did not want to deal with
him, but—"

"My son, you did wrong," Parry said. "But your deed was
understandable. What was the nature of this scourge?" He
hoped that the man did not balk now!

"It is me heathen Tartars," the man said. "They come from
afar, as they did eight hundred years ago, but they come in
terrible strength. Then they destroyed the empire of the Ro-
mans; this time they will destroy all that remains. Already they
are overrunning the lands of the Moors, making pyramids of
their severed heads! The Moors are our enemies, so our kings
are not concerned about their problems, but the Tartars are a
worse threat than the Moors! In one, perhaps two years they
will come here, and there will be carnage such as we have
never seen before!"

And there it was: the scourge of which Lord Bofort had
hinted! The alien Tartars—coming at last to Europe! Suddenly
it all made sense. Parry had studied some history himself; he
knew how ferocious had been the invasion of the Tartars before,
then called the Huns.

But more information was needed, and there was not much
time. One or two years? It would take that long just to prepare
a respectable defense, assuming the proper ears could be reached.

"You can document this?" he inquired. "You can prove
your case to those in a position to understand it?"

"Oh, yes, certainly! But—"

"But you fear the reprisals of Lucifer or the law," Parry
concluded. "Do not be concerned; I will protect you from
these. You must come with me, to give evidence about this
matter. We must prevent the ravaging of Europe."

"But my—"

"We shall provide for your family before we go." Parry
walked swiftly to the door and rapped on the wood with his
knuckle. "Gaoler! Bring the prisoner's clothing! I am taking
him out of here!"

"You have no authority. Father!" the gaoler cried. "The
criminal is ours!"

Parry paused to take stock. It was true that the Church did
not like to intervene in secular matters directly. He realized
mat the gaoler and his superiors were greedy for the spoils of
the prisoner's property; they would not let him go without a
horrendous struggle. He didn't have time for that; he had to
get me man to his Order as soon as possible.

"Jolie," he murmured.

"He has summoned guards," Jolie said, manifesting. "They
will not let you take him out."

Parry nodded. "Then I am constrained to use magic."

He returned to the prisoner. "I must put you in my pocket
for a time," he said. "Do not be afraid; it is temporary."

"Anything is better than the torture!"

Parry touched die man's shoulder, and transformed him to
a mouse. The creature squatted on the dank floor, astonished.
Parry reached down to pick up the mouse and put it in
a voluminous pocket. "There is a piece of bread there,"
he murmured. "Eat of it, and be welcome. But make no
sound."

Then he gestured at the floor, and the likeness of the prisoner
appeared there, lying bound as before.

He turned and strode again to die door. "Then keep what
you find here!" he called. "I'll have no further part of this."

Now die gaoler hauled up die bar and hauled open die door.
His gaze darted past Pairy as he spied me illusion. "I'll see
you out. Father!" he said, eager to be rid of this interference
so that he could resume me pressure on die prisoner.




100 Piers Anthony

Parry marched sedately out. Soon he was back with his
donkey, riding through the town.

He went to see the local magistrate. "The disposition of the
one you charge with heresy has been taken from your hands,"
he said. "His property is not to be attached until the Church
has come to a decision in this matter. His family is blameless,
and must be left alone." He knew that when the magistrate
learned of (he disappearance of the prisoner he would suffer
all manner of frustration, but would not dare to go against the
expressed wish of the representative .of the Inquisition. The
Church had ways of enforcing its measures.

Meanwhile, he would cany the prisoner directly to the mon-
astery in Prance. The man would realize that both he and his
family were better off with this separation; it would not be safe
for him to show his face locally for some time.

The Tartar campaign, as Parry came to understand it, was
a juggernaut; a new tribe of heathens, the Mongols, had taken
over and was fashioning the most massive and savage empire
the world had yet seen. This was indeed the scourge, and
Lucifer was shaping its thrust to overrun Europe in the course
of 1241 and 1242. At the moment the eastern portion of the
Saracen domains were captive, and the Russian principalities
were being subjugated. The Mongols were leaving no nation
untouched; they were incorporating the entire continent into
their cruel empire. Their manner of dealing with resistance was
simple: they cut off the heads of the resistors and potential
resisters. There were no rebellions in their lands; all who might
or could oppose them were dead.

Yet despite the formidable array of information Parry gen-
erated, he was unable to convince his superiors of its impor-
tance. "The kings have many troops, well seasoned in battle,"
he was reminded. "The Asiatics have never encountered real
Christian fighting men before, and will quickly retreat before
them. Meanwhile, if the Saracens are discomfited, so much
the better. That may save us the effort of mounting a crusade
against them."

This was sheer folly. Parry knew. But he also knew that if
he could not convince those of his order, who were most

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         101

concerned with heresy, he would have no better luck with the
secular authorities. By the time the magnitude of the menace
was properly appreciated, it would be too late. That was what
had happened to the Saracens.

But he could not stand idly by while this disaster loomed.
Lucifer obviously intended to reap a lavish harvest of souls as
the Mongols decimated Europe. Surely evil would flourish
under that cruel yoke, without the authority of the Church to
suppress it. The Mongols were said to be tolerant of religion;

mat meant that they would permit any form of it to prosper as
long as it did not conflict with their rule. Thus they were like
th& Holy Roman Empire, only more so. What heresy would
manifest under that alien umbrella, unchecked! Truly, Lucifer
had crafted a scourge.

There was no help for it: he would have to do the job of
saving Europe himself. All he needed now was to figure out
how.

6

DVINA

By late 1241 Parry knew that the campaign was almost lost.
He had not been able to find any way to stop the approaching
Mongol horde. It had annihilated resistance in Poland and
Hungary during the summer, and now was orienting on the
Holy Roman Empire. The Mongol leader Batu was intent on
conquest, and his general Subutai was a military genius. The
Europeans remained generally complacent, hardly looking be-
yond their own borders, but Parry understood now that there
was no general and no army who could stand against the Mon-
gol thrust.

"Well, at least you tried to alert them in time," Jolie said,
trying to console him.

"Even if they had marshaled the finest joint army possible
in these two years, it still might not have been enough," Parry
said, remaining dispirited. "The Mongols have routed every
type of force, in every type of situation. They conquered the
Russian states in a winter campaign; no one has done that
before, and it may never be done again. I have learned that
they are even now pressing for Cathay. They are simply the
most effective military force ever seen, because of their train-

102

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         103

ing, dedication and leadership. It may have been already too
late to stop them, by the time I learned of the menace."

"But surely Lucifer cannot have the victory so simply!" she
protested. "If it was inevitable, why would he have worked
so diligently to conceal it?"

That made him pause. It was true that Lucifer had kept the
threat of the scourge hidden for years, and had tried to prevent
Parry from learning of it from the accused heretic. If the de-
cision were sure, Lucifer should have gloried in it, encouraging
mortal folk to switch loyalty to him from God. Lucifer had
not done that, and was not doing it now.

' 'There must be a weakness,'' he said, his pulse accelerating.
"Lucifer must have reason—good reason, if that is not a con-
tradiction in terms—to keep the secret longer. But what could
it be?"

"Something that could even now turn the Golden Horde
aside," she said.

"There is nothing that can turn it aside," he said. "Had
any such thing existed, someone would have used it by now.
Subutai awaits only the thawing of spring to move against the
Empire, and thereafter Prance and the Papal State. Indeed, he
may not wait till then; he is the master of strategic surprise."

"You keep thinking in terms of force," she chided him.
"Isn't there any other way to settle a war?"

"You mean to try to buy the Mongols off? They seem to
be virtually incorruptible; all they want is conquest, until noth-
ing remains to conquer."

"Suppose something happened to their leader?"

"You mean, assassinate Batu? That is not a course I would
approve, but I'm sure it has been tried. The Mongols are
fanatically loyal to their leaders. The fact is, leaders do die,
but the campaign continues; they really don't seem vulnerable
that way."

She sighed. "Still, there must be something. Some way to
stop them, that we might use, that Lucifer is hiding."

"I wish I knew how to find out what it is!"

"Could you do a divination?"

"The Church really doesn't approve of such magic. In any

104 Piers Anthony

event, the scale of operations is so vast that I would hardly
know how to approach it. It is necessary to have a most specific
question in mind, or divination is virtually useless. Many peo-
ple are worse off with divination than without it, because they
misunderstand what it reveals."

"Perhaps I could look," she suggested. "I can travel far
now, and swiftly."

Parry k-iew that was true. She had labored over the decades
to extend her range, and now could fly to any region of the
mortal world. But he remained negative. "Where would you
look? You face the same problem as the divination."

"I might watch Lucifer's mortal minions. If they abruptly
stir, that might be a clue."

Parry nodded. "That may be our only chance."

"But of course I'll have to spend most of my time away
from you. Can you endure that?"

She was teasing him, but there was substance in it. "Your
presence and company have sustained me all these years. I will
miss you—but for the preservation of our society from evil, I
am prepared to endure it."

She smiled, and brushed his lips with the image of hers, and
faded out.

In December Jolie brought news: the minions were stirring.
They were active in a pattern of locations forming a rough
shield toward the east.

"Surely they aren't trying to stop the Mongols!" he ex-
claimed.

"No, they are operating well within the Mongol sphere,
behind the armies. They seem to be alert for something from
the east, though. They are at the stations of the major trade
and travel routes."

"They must expect something from the east," he said. "But
it is wintsr; the trade routes are mostly shut down. Only a few
hardy travelers are abroad now, and the Mongol messenger
cadre—"

He broke off, staring at her. "A message!" he exclaimed.
"They want to intercept a messenger!"

' 'That must be it," she agreed. "But why? What message?''

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         105

"We must find out! That is surely the news Lucifer fears!"
"I will go look," she said excitedly, and faded out again.
She was gone for several days, and Parry was lonely. He
had not realized how much he depended on her company! He
had been devastated when she died, but her return in spirit had
alleviated much of his grief and enabled him to follow his
present course. He wondered how the other friars managed,
without spiritual women. Some, he knew, cheated, seducing
innocent girls on the sly, but others seemed genuinely unin-
terested in such relations. Did other friars wonder about him?
He had been true to Jolie throughout—because she was always
with him. But sometimes he dreamed of living women. He
knew he was not a natural celibate; had it been feasible for
Jolie to resume mortal form, he would have had to leave the
Order to rejoin her. Sometimes he almost wished she would
animate the body of a mortal girl for a few hours, so as to—

But such notions were forbidden! He steeled himself and
went about his business, which at this stage was mainly pa-
perwork. Had he not known better, he would have been tempted
to think that the parchment and quill were works of Lucifer,
devised to destroy men with sheer tedium.

At last she manifested. "Parry, I found it!" she said excit-
edly. "The Great Khan is dead! The messengers are riding out
to all parts of the Mongol empire with the news!"

"The Khan Ogedei?" he asked,amazed. "The leader of all
the Mongols?"

' "The same! Batu is chief only of the Golden Horde; he owes
allegiance to the Great Khan! He will have to return to help
elect a new Great Khan!"

"Then what of the thrust against Europe?" Parry asked, and
answered it even as he spoke. "It will have to halt^ because
their leader is dead, and the new one might have different
notions! This is what Lucifer has been waiting for. But—"

"But why should Lucifer be so interested in the stopping of
the thrust against Europe?" she put in. "He wants it to con-
tinue!"

"Which means Lucifer intends to stop the message from
getting through!" Parry concluded. "Then the thrust will con-

106 Piers Anthony

tinue, and by the time the news of the Great Khan's death gets
through, it will be too late for Europe!"

"Yes, even if the Mongols withdraw, the damage will be
so great that there will be chaos, and Lucifer will reap a mon-
strous harvest!"

He nodded. "Now we know. Now we must act. How much
time do we have?"

"Those riders are professionals," she said. "They are using
horses in relays, and galloping from station to station. But me
stations are farther apart in the wilderness, so they have to rest
their horses more. I think it will take about a month to get all
the way to Poland; it's over a thousand leagues."

"But for a message of this importance, they might move
faster," Parry said. "Also, they could have magicians to trans-
mit it instantly across some sections."

"Yes. Lucifer's minions are acting as if they expect the
messengers in just a few days."

"So we may not have much time at all. We have to stop
Lucifer's minions from ambushing those messengers."

"But wouldn't Lucifer be on guard against that?" she asked.
"Lucifer has been setting up for this for many years, ready to
take advantage of the situation; surely he will not readily be
balked."

"You're right, Jolie! He will be watching! In fact, he will
probably be subtle; he won't waylay the messengers, he will
simply distract them momentarily and substitute false docu-
ments for the originals. Ones that say that the Great Khan is
preparing a celebration and wants Europe conquered as swiftly
as possible for the occasion. The messengers of course will
not know the contents of their packets; those would be only
for the eyes of those in charge. We shall have to be as clever
as he is—and switch back the original messages."

So they agreed. Jolie went out again, and used her ability
to penetrate the message packet of one of the riders, and mem-
orized the content of the key document. It was written in Uigur
script, which complicated matters; she had to describe parts of
it, and return for more, in a number of stages. Parry drew on
the services of a scholar monk who understood the language
to re-create the document.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         107

By the time they had a reasonable imitation, their deadline
was close. Lucifer had made the exchanges, and me messengers
were riding toward Europe. It would be impossible to intercept
each messenger; they were widely separated, taking different
routes, using me major trade lanes. Lucifer, with his many
minions and many years of preparation, had been able to cover
every one, but Parry could only do one.

He decided on the one who was now passing through the
chief city of the Russian Principality of Novgorod. That was
the northernmost trade route, the one that connected to the
Baltic Sea. Sections of that route would be virtually impassable
in midwinter; if Lucifer's minions were to be careless about
any messenger, it would be mat one. He might not even get
through in time to have any effect; one of the more southerly
messengers would be there first.

* 'But if false messages arrive first. Prince Batu won't believe
the true one!" Jolie protested.

"He's no fool, and certainly General Subutai isn't! They
will know something is amiss, and will investigate before act-
ing. That's all we need!"

"I hope so," she said doubtfully.

"It is all we can do on this short notice. We are going to
have to work closely together, and your part is vital."

"Oh?" she asked archly.

He explained the plan he had worked out. "Oh," she re-
peated, no longer archly.

He changed to duck form and set off. The duck was not the
most impressive of birds, but was equipped to fly steadily over
a long distance, and so represented his fastest and least con-
spicious mode of travel.

He flew all day, and came to roost exhausted; he had tried
to remain in condition, but he had few opportunities as a monk
to fly, and he was now fifty years old. The night was freezing.
His down insulated him, but foraging and roosting was no fun.

In the morning, tired and stiff, he resumed his flight, north-
west toward Novgorod. He made less progress than the prior
day, because of his fatigue and the rising winds, but he fought
on. He knew mat the fate of Europe was at stake; this was his
only chance to blunt Lucifer's malicious device.

108 Piers Anthony

So he continued, struggling, Jolie floating along with him.
Every so often she vanished, going to verify the progress of
the Mongol rider. That man, too, was cold and tired, but he
was toughened to it, and closed inevitably on the city of Nov-
gorod.

As Parry flew, he reflected on what he knew of Novgorod.
About four hundred years before, the Vikings from Sweden
had thrust up the river routes of northern Russia, establishing
colonies and a trading empire throughout the region. The town
of Novgorod became their headquarters, and then the town of
Smolensk farther south, and finally Kiev to the south of that,
on the approach to the Black Sea. Kiev became me capital of
a flourishing empire with strong links to the Byzantine empire
of the Mediterranean region. When Kiev broke up, the other
cities formed principalities, and Novgorod developed a vast
northern fur-trading empire. In recent years, under Prince Al-
exander Nevski, Novgorod had aggressively extended its
domains—until the Mongol onslaught. In 1238, during their
winter campaign against the northern principalities, the Mon-
gols had come within twenty leagues of the city of Novgorod.
But Alexander had been saved by the luck of the season: the
Mongols were steppe fighters who flourished in dry country
and in the frozen steppe regions, but were wary of being bogged
down and trapped in the marshes by the spring thaw. So they
had retreated, sparing Novgorod. Prince Alexander, however,
no fool, had yielded sovereignty to the Mongols and paid
tribute. Thus they had spared him their next season for cam-
paigning, and moved instead to the west.

Parry nodded internally. Prince Alexander had been wise
indeed, for Novgorod retained its strength while the other states
were being sliced to bits. Similarly the Principality of Polotsk,
now taken over by the Principality of Lithuania, had been
spared—but no one doubted the power of the Mongols here,
and the Mongol agents were unquestioned. So this was Mongol
territory, though it had not felt the Mongol sword directly. Just
as much of Europe would be, if Parry's present mission did
not succeed. Lucifer had planned well!

By the time Parry reached the border of the Principality of
Lithuania, he knew he was not going to make it. The document

FOR LOVE Of EVIL         109

packet, light enough for a duck to carry, now was weighing
him down intolerably. But Jolie hovered with him, spurring
him on with words and gibes, so that he dragged himself
onward. But soon even her encouragement was not enough,
and he had to come to ground at the frozen-over waters of the
Western Dvina River. He had not quite made it to the Republic
of Novgorod. He was exhausted, and dared not change from
his duck form because as a man he would be naked to the
snows. Meanwhile, the Mongol rider had reached the town of
Novgorod and delivered his message packet to the next rider,
who was now riding southwest. Parry's chance to make the
exchange in the night was gone.

"But the messenger must pass mis river!" Jolie said. "We
can intercept him here!"

"In the form of a duck?" he asked dispiritedly. He did not
actually speak; he merely thought it, and she was able to hear,
being hardly more than thought herself. This was another re-
finement of their interaction they had developed over the years.

"You said mat I would have to make the actual exchange,"
she reminded him. "That I would have to find a local woman
and arrange to animate her body long enough to do it. Why
can't I do it here?"

"Because there is no woman," he replied. "And if there
were, it still wouldn't do, because the messenger will be riding
right across the river without pausing. He will be a professional,
not stopping for anything until he meets his relay in Vilna. No
hope to make the substitution here!"

"Surely there is!" she persisted. "If I can find a woman,
and intercept him here—"

"He would not stop. Not even if you stood naked in the
snow. These men simply do not dally; their heads would be
forfeit if they did. It is discipline, perhaps more man anything
else, that makes the Mongols so formidable."

"There has to be a way," she said. "Maybe you could use
magic to stop him."

"I lack the strength to do more than mild illusion or Avi-
nation."

"Illusion," she said, musingly. "Much can be done with
that, properly applied."

110 Piers Anthony

Now at last her attitude struck a spark. "The semblance of
a barrier!" he thought. "If the way seems impassable—"

"The river!" she responded. "If there seemed to be a thaw,
so that he could not cross—"

"Except by boat, which his horse could not manage—"

"Unless a local girl knew the only safe route across the
loosening ice—"

Parry would have kissed her if he could. She had found the
key!

In a moment they had their plan. Parry marshaled his strength
for a suitable effort of illusion, while Jolie ranged out to find
a suitable local peasant woman for her purpose.

Soon a figure approached, swathed in furs. Parry, foraging
at the snowy bank as well as he could, tried to hide, but it
hailed him in French. "Parry! It is Jolie!"

Already! Amazed, he came out to meet her. This was a
young woman, a maiden, with girlishly fair features. Even the
bundled fur clothing was unable to mask completely the healthy
lines of her.

"She has agreed to let me use her body for this occasion,"
Jolie said. "She doesn't speak our language, but I was able
to make our need plain. But we must give her something."

Parry nodded his duck head. No one did something for
nothing. "What did you promise her?" he thought warily.

"I'm afraid it was a pretty important gift. The ability to
form a ball of ice, and gaze into it, and see the best location
for good firewood under the snow. That way her family will
not be cold this winter."

Parry nodded again. How cleverly Jolie had managed it!
This was in fact a minor thing to do; he could readily craft it,
even in his present state. But of course it would loom important
to the peasant girl, whose horizons were limited. "It shall be
done," he agreed. "I shall instruct her now, before the rider
comes."

So he did. If the girl thought it strange to be educated by a
duck, she did not show it; evidently Jolie's presence in her
mind reassured her. Parry thought his instructions to Jolie, who
relayed them to the girl. Because they were concepts rather
than words, the girl could understand.




FOR LOVE OF EVIL         111

She formed a ball of ice. Actually, it was a ball of solid
snow, but that was sufficient. She stared into it, and Parry
showed her how, via the channel of Jolie's understanding, to
see the visions in it. When she pictured me kind of wood she
wanted, the spell enabled her mind to range out ethereally,
much as Jolie's did, and orient on that substance. It was bor-
derline magic, actually more of an extension of me natural
power latent in every person; they were merely showing her
how to exploit it. It was much easier to train her in this, because
of Jolie's presence and experience; they accomplished in an
hour what might have been difficult in a lifetime for a person
instructed only by words.

"But now we must prepare for the interception," Jolie said.
"The rider is approaching."

Parry crafted his prepared illusion: the air seemed to warm,
the fog coalesced, and the ice of the River Dvina developed
seeming cracks through which clear water welled. It looked
dangerous for a horse to attempt to cross. He gave Jolie the
document packet.

The Mongol messenger arrived; Jolie had tracked him all
along. He drew up at the shore and peered ahead, dismayed.
He had understood that this river was completely frozen over,
and here it was half liquid. He did not want to ride around it,
for that would take him many leagues out of his way and cost
him time, ruining his schedule. He could go upstream to the
city of Polotsk, where a ford would certainly be available, but
then he would have to ride extra time to return to his route.

Jolie, in the guise of the peasant giri, walked by, carrying
an armful of wood.

The horseman's thought processes were almost visible. A
local girl who lived along the river; she would have intimate
news of this inexplicable thaw. "Giri!" he called gruffly, in
his own language.

Jolie paused, as if startled; she had not, it seemed, realized
that a man was near. She backed away, frightened.

The rider guided his horse to intercept her. Terrified, she
dropped her bundle of sticks and stared at him.

"The river—you know it?" he demanded. His gesture made
his meaning clear: he wanted to get across.

222 Piers Anthony

She nodded affirmatively, making a gesture to signify that
she lived on the other side, and was only an innocent maiden
gathering wood for her family's hovel.

"You know where to cross? Where the ice is tight?"

Again she nodded.

"Show me!"

Now she hesitated, glancing here and there, signifying that
the route was tortuous, hard to describe to a stranger.

Abruptly suspicious that she meant to mislead him, perhaps
getting him onto thin ice where the weight of his horse would
break through and cause them both to drown, he acted with
dispatch. He gestured her onto his steed, behind him. That
way she would face the same danger he did, and would not
betray him.

Afraid to deny him, she approached and suffered herself to
be hauled roughly up. She clung to him, afraid of this height.
But she indicated the correct route.

Sure enough, she did not betray him. She guided him through
the fog without mishap; nowhere did the ice thin and break.
He watched carefully throughout, perhaps not unmindful of
her arms clasping his body and her pneumatic front pressed so
firmly against his back. Indeed, it was almost like affection,
the way she pressed so closely in to him. It would be nice to
pause, to get her to embrace him face to face, to open their
clothing enough to—

But no, he was disciplined, and refused to yield to such a
distraction. He only thought about it, enjoying the way her
arms moved against his torso, the way her front rocked against
his back as the horse moved. He was alert, but he fell into a
kind of secondary reverie, thinking about what he might have
done had his mission not been so pressing.

And by the time he was safely across, the packet had been
exchanged for the one in his travel pouch, he none the wiser.
He set her down on the ground, gave her a small coin, and
urged his horse onward. He had not after all lost his schedule.
Perhaps the girl would meet him again on the return ride, when
he would have more leisure.

Parry had followed, staying hidden in the fog, and rejoined
her. "That was beautiful!" he thought.




FOR LOVE OF EVIL         113

She smiled. "My host agrees. I have explained to her how
important this matter is. She doesn't like the Mongols; already
(heir tax agents are driving the farmers to ruin. She asks whether
you would like to come to her house, where it will be warm,
to rest in your natural form."

The giri must have had considerable prompting for all that!
But he was so tired and cold, and aware of the forbidding
distance to France; he needed restoration before he attempted
that trip. Perhaps he could reward the giri's family in some
additional manner for their hospitality; rested, he could perform
more formidable magic. "Yes, if she offers it freely," he
thought.

"I have told her what a good man you are," Jolie said, still
speaking through the body of the girl. "But not me nature of
your profession."

Because it might be awkward having a Dominican friar visit,
he realized. He appreciated her discretion. By being anony-
mous, he could accept the family's hospitality and repay them
with some additional favor, and not only would he not make
it unduly awkward for them, he would be away from the notice
of Lucifer. For Lucifer should be furious when the "wrong"
message made it through, and Lucifer would be scouring the
route for some hint as to what had happened. Better to have
everyone involved anonymous!

Jolie picked him up and carried him under her arm, walking
back across the frozen river toward the peasant giri's home.
Who would have believed that the duck was actually a man,
and the girl actually a ghost who resided in a drop of blood
on the duck's wing? Fortunately no outsider needed to believe
it!

Actually, no outsider was present. They were alone on the
river as the evening closed and me chill of winter intensified.
The illusion of melt had dissipated, leaving only the troubled
landscape of ice. He was glad they would be getting inside;

the very prospect restored his strength somewhat.

In due course they came to the residence. It was a typical
hut, fashioned of wood and thatch, largely buried under the
snow. "Oh, we forgot the wood!" Jolie exclaimed.

' 'Perhaps I can make a heat spell for this night,'' Parry said.

114 Piers Anthony

"But first you had better get me something to wear, so that I
don't shock the good peasants when I revert to my natural
form."

"Why not use illusion for clothing?"

"Illusion isn't very warm."

She smiled and set him down. "We'll fetch a blanket."

She entered the hut. Parry heard muffled talk as me girl
explained things to her family. Then she emerged with a tat-
tered quilt, and held it out for him.

Parry shifted to human form. The chill clasped his naked
body immediately, but Jolie wrapped the quilt about him and
opened die door.

The peasant girl's parents stood there: an old man and an
old woman huddled in bedraggled furs like her own.

The girl spoke to them in their own language. They nodded.
They accepted Parry as a stranger their daughter had be-
friended, who could pay for his keep for this night. How his
nakedness was accounted for he did not know.

"Do the heat magic," Jolie murmured.

Oh. Yes. Parry drew on his talent and cast a spell that caused
the walls and floor to radiate heat.

Jolie or the girl—he suspected that they switched control in
and out as necessary—held her hand near a wall, showing how
it was warming. The old folk did the same, and exclaimed
with surprise and pleasure; mis was magic they liked!

They had a supper of gruel and water; indeed, the Mongols
had not left much in this region for sustenance. But Parry
enhanced it with a spell of seasoning, and they all enjoyed it.
There was not much conversation, because he did not speak
their language; he had to sign to Jolie, who translated for him.
He gathered that she had told them that the visitor was under
a vow of silence. Again he appreciated her finesse.

He discovered that he was experiencing a deep satisfaction.
He realized why: this was like mortal life, with normal folk.
He was for the moment no longer a monk, and Jolie was no
longer dead. Indeed, the very features of the peasant girl, who
now doffed her heavy outer furs to reveal more of those at-
tributes that belonged only to youth, seemed to resemble those
of Jolie.

FOR LOVE Of EVIL         115

After the meal mere was nothing to do but retire, as the
gloom was thickening and candles were obviously too precious
to waste for mere light. Parry stepped outside to attend to a
call of nature, then returned to lie down in a vacant comer.
The old folk had a rack of their own, and the girl settled on a
bed of straw near them.

But when the darkness was total, the girl came silently to
him, tugging at the wrapped quilt. Was something wrong?

"No, Parry," Jolie said, manifesting momentarily in her
spirit form. "I have come to be with you, as in the old days."

He opened his mourn to protest, but the girl put a finger on
i   his lips. She did not want him disturbing her parents.

But you can't use her body this way! he protested mentally.
And I—I am a friar!

She got his quilt open and crawled next to him. Her body
was hot and emphatically female.

Jolie! What are you doing!

But it was clear what she was doing. She had not loved him
physically for thirty years; she intended to do it now. She had
evidently made some arrangement with me peasant girl, who
perhaps was not averse. Chastity was a virtue few peasants
could afford; Jolie herself had been unusual in that respect,
perhaps because he had caught her young enough, before the
full bloom of her womanhood.

Parry wrestled with his conscience and his long training, but
the battle was so uneven as to be token. He had known all
along mat he could never withstand Jolie in life, and now for
a night she was alive. He clasped her and kissed her with the
ardor of three stifled decades, and plunged into the rapture of
the body. She responded with total eagerness. So potent was
their penned desire for each other that it refused to abate after
a single bout, or a second, and a fair portion of the night was
expended before they were able to sleep.

But by morning she was back in her own comer, and he
remained in his. If me parents had any knowledge of me night's
activity, they kept their own counsel. They probably under-
stood as much as they cared to.

He shared another meal with them, improving it magically,
then performed some magic in return for their hospitality. In

116                Piers Anthony

addition to the ability of the girl to locate good firewood under
snow, he gave her the power to identify the best bargain of
several proffered at the market. That, too, was mainly an ex-
tension of her natural abilities, with very little actual magic;

but it would enable her to profit significantly by avoiding bad
deals or outright cheats. It would help her family through the
winter, and more than recoup the value of the food shared with

him.

But the use of her body during the night—how could he
repay that? What deal had Jolie made for that? Suppose she
should conceive by him? In the night he had not seen fit to
question the matter, but now by day he was having serious
second thoughts.

The girl spoke to her parents, then took his arm. Parry was
now garbed in shaggy furs borrowed from the man; they were
uncomfortable and riddled with lice, but served adequately.
He needed to return them, but could not until he changed form.

They left the house. Jolie wasted no time coming to the
point. "She has an illness I told her you could cure," she said.
"It is apt to make her barren, but you can abolish it and restore
her fertility."

"But to do that, I would require sustained contact with her
for a full day and night," Parry protested. "You know that,
Jolie! Healing magic of that type cannot be hastily accom-
plished."

"Yes. We must remain for another day," she said. "I have
started the process, and you have given her of your substance.
Remain long enough to keep it active, and she is well repaid."

"But I must return to the monastery!"

"You are too fatigued still to fly."

She was right. He was as yet only partially restored. He
could not yet undertake that journey, lest he fall and die on
me way.

Jolie released the girl, who tried out her talent for finding
wood. She fashioned an ice ball and stared into it, men moved
purposefully through the trees while Parry followed. In mo-
ments she had found an excellent cache of sticks, exclaiming
with pleasure. It worked!

117

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

Parry helped her carry the wood back to the hut. This would
keep them warm another day, and there was more where that

came from.
Then they went to the nearest market, a league's trudge

down the rivershore. The girl had only the coin the Mongol
rider had given her, but she was determined to spend it wisely.
She turned down the first preferred deal, and the second, finally
accepting one for bread, and carried her prize away. The pro-
prietor shook his head, evidently feeling bested. This gift, too,

was working.
That night she came to him again in the darkness, sharing

the quilt. He did not argue; it was obvious that the girl was
satisfied with the deal she had made, and did not mind this
part of it. She had evidently had some experience before.
Perhaps she was accustomed to rougher handling, and appre-
ciated his gentleness and obvious delight, despite the knowl-
edge that it was really Jolie he was embracing. But he did
concentrate on the curing of her malady, which was not difficult
to treat at this stage, and by morning he knew she was free of
it. He had, indeed, rendered a suitable return service.

Next day his strength had recovered, and he knew he could
fly back to Prance. He bid silent farewell to the family and
stepped outside. He changed to the duck form, and the girl
collected the clothes. She smiled as he spread his wings, ev-
idently in response to Jolie's leave-taking; then Parry was up
and away, and Jolie hovering with him.

Now the realization he had suppressed for two days burst
upon him: he had violated his oath of celibacy! Technically,
celibacy meant the state of being unmarried, but in practice it
meant abstinence from carnal relations. For two days he had
become married again, and made love to his wife. He had

forfeited his right to be a friar.
"I shall have to leave the Order," he thought to Jolie. "I

am undone!"

Jolie was unpenitent. "I have always loved you. Parry. Now
mat I know how easy it is to love you physically, I want to
do it again. Leave the Order, and be with me! I will find a
young girl to—"




118 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 119

"But I must remain to fight evil!"

"You have foiled Lucifer's dire plan. Now at last you can
relax."

"But the Order has become my life!"

"It never was my life, Parry! I supported you because I love
you, but now that your work is done—"

"My work is not done! Lucifer must be constantly fought!"

"But there are other ways to fight him, are there not?"

"Not as effective as this! Oh, why did I give in to the wiles
of the flesh!"

She gazed at him, men turned away as she faded.

"Jolie!" he cried, stricken. "Come back! I didn't mean—"

But she was gone. He had hurt her feelings, and she would
not return until she chose.

It took him longer to return than it had to make the outbound
flight. He tired faster, and had to land often to rest and forage.
But it gave him time to ponder, and when he finally reached
the monastery he knew what he had to do.

He had to confess his sin before the head friar and beg
absolution.

But at first, when he was back, he just had to recuperate
from his arduous excursion. He rested and ate and slept for
several days.

Jolie returned. "I am sorry," she said. "I see now that I
was wrong. I should not have tempted you into sin."

That made him argue the other side of it. "You are my
wife!" he protested. "Nothing you could lead me to could be
wrong!"

"No, you are correct. The situation changed when I died,
and I had no right to return to the flesh after all these years,
knowing that—"

"You borrowed a living body so that you could enable me
to complete my mission! Without you I could not have done
it! There can be no fault in you for that!"

"But after it was done, and the messenger went on, I had
no right to—"

"You knew I was exhausted to the point of collapse, and
would die in the snow if not given warmth and food and rest.
You acted to save me, not to hurt me!"

"But during the night, possessed of a living young body, 1
should not have come to you."

With that he had to agree. "You should not have, Jolie. But
there was no way you could have tempted me, had I not been
willing, even eager. The sin was mine!"

"It was ours," she said.

"Ours," he agreed.

"Yet such is my depravity, I cannot hate what we did. I
love you so much. Parry, and want to be with you—"

"You are with me always, Jolie."

"m the flesh," she finished.

"And I want you—in the flesh." Now it was out. Not only
had he sinned, he knew he would do it again if given the
opportunity. .

"What will happen now?"

"I must leave the Order," he said. "I thought I could make
confession and beg absolution, but now I know I cannot do
that, for the sin remains with me. I can no longer be a Do-
minican friar."

"But the good work you are doing—the foiling of Lucifer's
mischief—who will do that if you do not?"

Parry put his head in his hands. "No one, I fear! No other
friar has made the same study of evil that I have! How ironic
mat I should fall prey to evil myself!"

"The evil of loving me."

"No!" But there was truth in it. He was a friar; he had no
business loving a woman. "Jolie, you are my conscience. What
would you have me do?"

"I am not your conscience!" she flared. "I am your wife
who has led you into sin!"

"What would you have me do?" he repeated grimly.

She paced the air, distraught. "There is sin in what I did
with you, and would do again. But there is evil in letting Lucifer
plot without hindrance. I think the sin must be tolerated for
the sake of the good you can do in your present office."

They hashed it over, but could come to no better conclusion
than that. The great good ends justified the means of keeping
silent about one small sin.

So Parry made no report, knowing that he had compromised




120 Piers Anthony

his honor as a Dominican friar. He knew the doctrine of ends
and means was fallacious, but hoped that in this case it was
justified.

Indeed, as the weeks and months passed, it seemed so, for
me Mongol juggernaut halted, and finally reversed. The mes-
sage of the Great Khan's death had gotten through, and Europe
was saved from Lucifer's scourge.

But neither his doubt nor his renewed passion for Jolie's
living flesh faded. Parry knew he could not remain in this
hypocritical existence. He had to find some means to resolve
his savage internal conflict.

But what means?

7

LILAH

In the spring of 1242 Parry was taking a walk out around the
monastery grounds. He sought, as always, to reconcile the evil
he found in himself with the good work he was doing. He had
continued to deal with heretics, garnering their conversions
when others had failed. Why was he unable to resolve the sin
on his own conscience?

"Because you do not wish to. Parry."

He jumped. There beside him was the figure of an attractive
young woman. He had not seen her at all; indeed, there should
be none here, not even a nun. He stared at her.

She smiled back. She wore the long flowing hair, bound
back by no more than a fillet, and the single long dress of the
ordinary unmarried girl. But she was hardly ordinary! Her hair
had the luster of gold, and her eyes seemed golden too, glowing
like tiny disks of the sun, and the contours of her body thrust
against the silken cloth of her garment, making of it a statu-
esque configuration. She reminded him somewhat of Jolie, as
she had been in the day of her mortal beauty. But this woman
was more than that, physically; she was like Venus clothed.

He fought past his amazement. "There can be no woman
here!" he exclaimed.

121

122 Piers Anthony

"Really?" she asked, her lips quirking with amusement.
"What of your ghostly lover?"

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am Lilah, sent to corrupt you."

He had expected some sort of evasion; this brought him up
short again. "You are a—a sending of Lucifer?"

"That is true. Parry."

Could it be? Certainly that would explain her sudden ap-
pearance, and the way she knew his private name, never voiced
in the monastery. Still—

"Lucifer works by deception," he said. "If you are from
him, you should not tell me so!"

"Lucifer is the Father of Lies," she agreed. "But the truest
lies have the semblance of truth. We underlings are not per-
mitted to lie freely; that is die province of the Master. Thus I
will always speak the truth to you, though you may not always
wish to hear it."

"I don't believe you!"

"You will, in time."

"A problem. Brother?"

Parry turned guiltily. Another friar was approaching. How
would he explain the woman?

But the other gave no sign of seeing the woman. "I saw
you pause and gesture as if disturbed. Indigestion?"

"I thought I saw something," Parry said lamely.

"You are equivocating," Lilah remarked. "Youdonotdfcin*
you see something; you do see a demoness, here where we are
not supposed to be able to intrude."

She had him dead to rights.

The other friar looked around. "I see nothing out of order.
What was its nature?"

"Evil."

The other man's brow furrowed. "Evil? Here? Surely you
are mistaken. Brother."

"I must be," Parry agreed.

"Now you are lying," Lilah said.

She had scored again. "That is, I saw a figure of a woman,
an evil figure," Parry said. "A—a demoness."




FOR LOVE OF EVIL         123

The other friar looked at him with concern. "I fear you have
a problem. Brother."

"I fear I do," Parry agreed.

"But the cross will banish the vision." The friar brought
out his silver cross.

"Yes," Parry agreed, relieved. He brought out his own and
swept it through the region where Lilah stood. She vanished
without a sound.

"Gone now?" the other inquired.

"Gone," Parry agreed. "I thank you. Brother."

"We are all troubled on occasion by doubts and bad mem-
ories," the other said. "But our Lord Jesus is proof against
them all."

"Yes!" Parry agreed fervently. He walked with the other
back to the buildings. But he remained in doubt, knowing that
his own doubts and bad notions had not been abolished by his
faith in Jesus. The fault, he knew, was not in Jesus but in
himself; his faith was flawed.

When he was alone in his chamber, Jolie appeared. "Oh,
that was horrible!" she exclaimed. "I couldn't come out while
she was with you!"

"You saw the—the apparition?" he asked, startled.

"Lilah the demoness. Of course. The aura of Hell sur-
rounded her. Oh, Parry, what does she want with you?"

"She said she was sent to corrupt me."

"She can't corrupt you! You are a good man, and a Do-
minican friar. You are proof against evil."

"Not necessarily," Lilah said, appearing. In that instant,
Jolie faded.

Parry fetched out his cross. "Begone, demoness!" he cried,
thrusting it at her. Lilah vanished.

Jolie reappeared. "What an infernal creature!" she ex-
claimed. "I cannot co-exist with her!"

"The cross banishes her," Parry said. "I will use it until
she gives up this harassment."

"But why should she come for you now?" Then she re-
considered. "The scourge! Lucifer has ascertained your part
in foiling that!"

124                Piers Anthony

"You've got it, ghost," Lilah agreed, her appearance caus-
ing Jolie's disappearance.

"Begone!" Parry cried, jabbing the cross at her. She clicked

out of sight.

Jolie reappeared. "You foiled Lucifer, and now he is angry.
He has sent his minion to wreak vengeance on you."

"He can't touch me, or you," Parry said. "We are secure
in the bosom of Jesus."

"That's what you think, hypocrite!" Lilah exclaimed.

Parry lifted the cross. The demoness retreated to the farthest
comer of the chamber.

"No, don't drive her out yet," Jolie said, reappearing trans-
lucently. "Find out how she thinks she can do it."

Parry looked from one to the other. "You can co-exist after

all?"

"She is fundamentally good; I am fundamentally evil,"
Lilah said. "We co-exist; we are merely unable to be close to
each other."

"Then what of me?" he asked.

"You are mortal."

"That makes a difference?"

"That makes the difference. Good and evil co-exist in all
mortals. It is the struggle between the two that makes mortality
what it is. Mortality is the battleground. You know that. Parry;

you have studied evil more than any other living man."

Parry nodded. He did know it; he just had not been thinking
coherently. "How is it that you are able to come here, to the
order dedicated to the eradication of evil?"

"Dedicated to the eradication of heresy." Lilah said. "The
distinction is significant."

She was entirely too sharp! "To corrupt me," he continued.
"How can you hope to do that?"

"Because you have planted the seed of evil in yourself. I
am here to make it grow. Without that seed, I would be pow-
erless against you. The corruption had to start within yourself.

"What corruption?" Jolie demanded.

The demoness eyed her knowingly. "You should know,
pretty spirit! You started it."

"The loving!" Jolie cried, stricken.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         125

"The sex," Lilah said. "To love is holy, if it is of a good
person or good cause. But to tempt a man into sinful sex—"

"Oh!" Jolie's exclamation was pure anguish as she faded
out.

"She could not have done it had I not cooperated!" Parry
said. "She is good; she meant no harm!"

"True, Parry," Lilah said, advancing. "She is good; she
meant no harm. In addition, she is beyond adjustment of her
balance; it was set at the time of her death. But you are mortal;

you knew it was sinful, yet you did it, and did it with sinful
joy. Two nights, each a multiple effort." She glanced sidelong
at him. "A surprising performance, considering your mortal
age. And then—"

"Enough!" he cried, lifting the cross.

"Do you use the cross to banish the truth?" Lilah asked as
she retreated.

Parry turned, found his bed, and sat down on it, hard. It
was the truth. He had done wrong, knowingly.

The demoness advanced again, unchallenged. "But it was
not the sin that made the opening, for the mortal flesh is ever
weak. Had you succumbed, and repented, and confessed, and
done proper penance, you would have been absolved, and this
too you well know. The opening was made by your decision
to conceal your weakness. When, knowingly, you failed to
seek absolution, you practiced deliberate deception. And that,
my dear mortal, provided my Lord Lucifer His wedge against
your soul."

Her truths were hammering at his mind. He had done it; he
had practiced deceit, which was a lie. That lie had put him
into the power of the Lord of Lies.

"I must seek absolution now," he said.

"And give up all you have gained, discrediting yourself,
your monastery, and indeed the Dominican Order?" the de-
moness asked derisively. "I think not."

"Better that than the lie!" he cried.

"And that is another lie," Lilah said.

Again, she was devastatingly accurate! He knew he could
not do that to his work or his order. He could not throw away
thirty years of his campaign against evil, at a single stroke

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Piers Anthony

discrediting everything. He was locked into his lie, because of
the enormous cost of its expiation.

"Lucifer is having his way with me," Parry said brokenly.

"You natter yourself, mortal," Lilah said. "Lucifer has not
yet begun to have His way with you. This is only the opening.
Have you any notion how angry He is with you?"

Parry recovered a portion of his humor. "I daresay you will
inform me, demoness."

"After the scourge failed, my Lord made a thorough in-
vestigation. He discovered that not only had an obscure Do-
minican friar almost singlehandedly foiled His greatest ploy,
that same friar had wreaked mischief throughout his career.
Right here, virtually under Lucifer's nose, this friar had plotted
with angelic cunning, and sown a harvest of good that very
nearly canceled my Lord's activities of the past half century.
Lord Bofort, the heretics, the conversion of His wolves and
bats—thirty years of mischief. One lone friar! My Lord has
not before been this angry in this same half century. All the
fires of Hell were enhanced for several infernal nights. That
is why He deliberated long, pondering suitable retribution against
this insolent mortal. That is why He finally decided on the
worst of all the routes available. The one that was appropriate
for this case."

She leaned forward, so as to speak almost in his ear. "That
is why He sent me to corrupt you."

Parry glanced up at her—and found his nose almost in a
cleavage such as he had not imagined in thirty years. Lilah's
outfit had changed; she now wore a tight bodice open at die
top.

"Get away from me, harlot!" he exclaimed, almost spitting
into that awesome channel.

"Make me, mortal!" she taunted him.

He jerked the cross up, aiming for the center of her body.
But she was gone.

Jolie reappeared. "Oh, Parry, what have I done!" she wailed.

"You did nothing blameworthy," he snapped, "/committed
the sin!"

"But I enabled it! Oh, Parry, I wanted you so much! I knew
it was wrong, but—"

"It was not wrong of itself. We are married. But my decision
to cover it up, to go on as if it hadn't happened— Oh, Jolie,
I made a sin of what had been natural! What a price I must
now pay!"

"But what can she do, actually?" Jolie asked, taking faint
heart. "No one else can see her or hear her, and your cross
banishes her; If you just don't listen to her—"

"That's right, ghost-girl," Lilah said, reappearing across
the room. "Just don't listen to me—or look at me—and you
cannot be corrupted. Your lie only opened the way; it did not
complete the course."

Parry glanced directly at her, about to make a sharp retort.
But it was stifled unspoken.

This time the demoness was naked. Lusciously so. Her
full breasts did not sag in the manner of most mortal breasts;

they were erect and proud. Her belly did not protrude; it was
almost flat, just slightly rounded. Her hips flared in a manner
that—

"Damn," Parry muttered, wrenching his gaze away.

"You are learning the language," Lilah said.

He ripped the cross from its chain and threw it at her. The
demoness faded. The cross struck the wall and fell to the floor.

Parry felt a pang of guilt and remorse. That was no way to
treat the cross!

Lilah reappeared, immediately before him, still naked. "You
treat your silly icon the way you treat your silly order: with
contempt," she said.

"Get out, spawn of Lucifer!" he cried.

"I told you before. Parry: you have to make me." She put
her hands on her hips, her legs well spread, and inhaled.

He swept his hand up. But he no longer held the cross. His
fingers struck her in the crotch, which was furry and warm.
He had expected her to vanish before his hand swept through
that region. For a moment, he was too appalled to move.

She snapped her legs together, pinning his hand. "Well,
now, that is more like it, lover! I thought you would be more
reticent at first."

He yanked his hand back, but she remained clamped; he
only succeeded in drawing her more closely in to him. She




128

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         129

Piers Anthony

fell toward him, smiling, her breasts swinging close to his

face.

"Damn you!" he repeated.

"Yes, lover, I am damned," she breathed. "And you will
be too, when you accept me." She caught a hand behind his
head and pushed his face forward, into her bosom.

Parry was not so far addled as to compound his error. "Bless

you!" he exclaimed.
Abruptly she was gone. He was left hunched forward, one

hand extended.

There was a knock at the door. "Brother Grief!" a friar

called. "Are you all right? I heard you cry out."

"A bad dream," Parry called back, hastening to get up,
cross the chamber, and pick up his fallen cross.

"Every lie you tell brings you closer to Hell."

Parry froze, then realized that it was not the friar but the
demoness who had reappeared across the room. Yet again, she
had him dead to rights. But how could he tell the truth?

"Very well," the friar said, and departed.

Now Parry advanced on the demoness, cross extended. "You
are the spawn of hell indeed!" he said, keeping his voice low.
"But you shall not remain in my presence."

"Parry, you don't seem to understand. I have been sent to
corrupt you, and that I shall do. I think we have an excellent

beginning."

"You can't corrupt a man who doesn't want to be cor-
rupted!"

"True, Parry. I am certainly in luck."

"Your tricks and wiles will not work! I shall drive you away
until you stay away." He reached her and stabbed with the

cross.

She vanished. "Parry, why don't you put down that thing

and give me a chance?" Lilah asked from the far side of the
chamber. "I can be very nice, and the soul of discretion."
He stalked her again, cross extended. She vanished again.
"For example, in bed," she said. He turned to see her lying
on his bed, her legs spread invitingly. "Set it down over there,
and come to me here, and I will show you how obliging I can
be." She ran her hands down her torso suggestively.

Parry found himself reacting. He was a friar, but he was
also a man, and not yet so old as to be beyond awareness of
the flesh, as recent events had shown. He realized now that
much of the reason he had endured celibacy was that he had
never been truly tempted. The moment Jolie had assumed mor-
tal semblance, he had succumbed, and now this demoness was
arousing him despite his efforts to banish her.

"What do I have to do to be rid of you?" he asked.

"You think I won't answer, but I will," she said smugly.
"On condition you put down that weapon and behave your-
self."

"What?"

"Parry, you know a girl doesn't like to act under duress.
You would not like it if I demanded information of you at the
point of a sword. Why do you think I like it any better?"

"I am not using a sword!"

She sat up, her breasts shifting and quivering with her mo-
tion. She extended her right arm, and a great long sword ap-
peared in her hand. She swung her legs to the floor and stood.
The sword glinted. "Talk, miscreant, or I'll run you through!"
she exclaimed.

Parry held the cross before him.

"Ah, so it is that way!" she snarled, and hurled the sword
directly at him.

Parry jumped aside—but the sword faded out before reach-
ing his vicinity. It had been illusion, banished by the nearness
of the cross.

"The difference is," she said calmly, "that my sword cannot
harm you, but your icon is intolerable to me. So if you want
to talk to me, you must have the courtesy to set aside your
weapon."

Grudgingly, Parry realized that there was merit in her argu-
ment. It galled him to accede to even the simplest request of the
demoness, but he did want to be rid of her and she had spoken
the truth to him so far. "Put on some clothing," he said.

"Anything you wish, Parry." As she spoke, she was garbed
in a matronly robe that masked her physical attributes.

He set down the cross and walked to the bed. He sat down
on it.




130                Piers Anthony

Lilah joined him. "Isn't this so much more civilized?" she
said. "Now, what was it you wanted to know?"

"How do I get rid of you?"
"That is very simple. Parry. You must abolish evil from

your heart. Then there will be no point in my presence, for I
will have no further hope of corrupting you."

"I have been trying to do that!"
' 'No. You have been making a show of trying, but you have

not truly wished to be rid of that evil—or of me."
He stared at her. "How can you say that?"
"I can say it because it is true. I am a creature of evil; I am
attuned to the evil in you. It is small, but persistent; the seed
is sprouting, and in due course it will bear its fruit."
He found himself unable to deny it. "Be more specific."
"Your ghost-girl borrowed mortal flesh and reminded you
of what you had been missing. Now the desire for that has
fixed in your mind. But you know there are hideous compli-
cations in the borrowing of the flesh of a mortal woman, for
you are no longer in distant foreign territory. A local woman
might tell. So you cannot indulge in the flesh while being true
to your dead wife—but the urge of the flesh remains. You

must have a woman."

Parry started to protest, but she only gave him a knowing

glance, and he stifled it. She could indeed read the evil in his

heart.

"But you wish to continue the work you have been doing,"

she continued. "You are no longer young, and you have a
comfortable existence here, and you value your reputation and
that of your order. So you cannot resign. That puts you oh the
path of deceit, and I am the realization of that path. I can give
you the gratification of the flesh you crave, and I will not betray

your secret in any way. Therefore—"

"You are evil!" he exclaimed. "You seek to undo me and
my work, to achieve Lucifer's vengeance on me! Of course

you will betray me in any way you can!"

She shook her head, and her robe fell open. She had conjured
no underclothing, of course. He tried to avert his gaze, but
could not. "I do not seek to undo you. Parry. I want you to
remain in your present position, and even to improve upon it."

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         131

"That's impossible!"

"You are not thinking clearly. Parry." She leaned toward
him, further clouding his thinking.' 'Lucifer has need of agents
in the enemy hierarchy. The more trusted and powerful they
are, the better. You will be ideal. I will facilitate your career
in every possible way."

"This is outrageous!"

"This is reasonable." She put her hand on his arm, en-
couraging further closeness. "What your ghost-girl has done
for you, I can do better, for I am not limited in substance. I
can become solid, and perform any function, and fade away
without leaving any guilty trace. I can advise you on your most
effective course, without suffering the restriction of con-
science. And this is only the beginning."

"I must be rid of you!"

"Now be fair, Parry. I am not forcing anything on you,
ever. My semblance of flesh is yours to enjoy whenever you
may desire, but you need not avail yourself of it. The sensible
thing for you to do is try me, and if I do not please you, dismiss
me."

"I am trying to find out how to dismiss you now!" he
flared.

"And I am answering you. Merely ask me to depart for a
time, and I will do that."

"But I did—"

"No, Parry. You did not ask, you ordered. Only my Lord
Lucifer can order me. Others must enlist my cooperation."

Parry tried it. "I ask you, demoness, to leave me alone."

Lilah stood, drew her robe together and smiled. "I leave
you. Parry, for one day. I hope you will consider what I offer
in the interim."

She faded out, leaving him amazed.

Jolie reappeared. "That was awful!" she exclaimed. "I
couldn't come out when she was close, and I couldn't even be
near when she was touching you."

"You shouldn't react like that. You should remain to oppose
her."

"It's not that. It's—her evil just overwhelms me, like a fire
too hot to tolerate. She really is from hell. Parry."




132 Piers Anthony

"I have no doubt of that. How much of what she said did

you hear?"

"After she got you to set aside the cross, I heard nothing.
What happened. Parry? How did you get rid of her?"

"I asked her. She said she would depart for one day.
She—" He paused, uncertain how much he should tell her.

"I can guess," Jolie said. "She vamped you."

"Yes. She said she wants me to remain in my present po-
sition, so that Lucifer will have an agent here, and that—" he
shrugged. "It is no secret what such creatures offer."

"Did she tell you how to be free of her?"

"Yes. I must abolish all evil from my heart. Then she will
have no power over me. But she is certain I cannot do that."

Jolie nodded. "Because of what I led you into."

He was unable to deny it. "The seed of sin is within me,
and I fear I lack the power to banish it."

"Unless you absolve yourself and resign your position, and
let all your prior good works be disgraced."

"That is the case. I can absolve my personal evil only by
inflicting a greater evil on my career and the Order."

"But what is the alternative. Parry? If this is a mission of
Lucifer's to wreak vengeance on you, you surely must get free
of it any way you can."

He clapped his hands in sudden decision. "Yes! Now that
I know that Lucifer wants me here, I must depart! I will wrap
up my affairs and go to the Abbot."

"Then we can go somewhere and I can find a woman and
we can be together again," Jolie said, brightening.

Parry doubted that it could be that simple, but he set about
concluding his current business and putting it in order for other
friars to take over. His heart was heavy.

There was more of it than he had thought; he was unable to
conclude it by the day's end. He slept, and resumed in the
morning. Still it stretched out; every matter had to be organized
just so, or it would be bungled by the inheritor. He had for-
gotten how many heretics he had dealt with, and how many
still bore watching, in case of relapse. Jolie was unable to help
in this; only he knew the necessary details.
"Hello, sinner." It was the demoness.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         133

"You said you would remain away for—" Parry broke off,
realizing that it was now the same hour that she had left the
day before. She had been true to her word.

"Let me help you with that," Lilah said.

Parry smiled grimly. "You can't, and if you could, you
wouldn't. I am preparing to make my absolution and depart
the Order, so that the evil may be gone from me."

"You can't do it," she said confidently. "The knowledge
of what I offer you is percolating through the layers of your
desire, and you must accept it."

"What do you offer?" he flared. "Tawdry sex—at the ex-
pense of my soul! And even that I can have with my beloved
wife, after I leave the Order, without compromising my honor
or my soul."

"Tawdry sex has its appeal," she said. "Gaze at me and
tell me that you have no interest."

He glanced at her. Sure enough, she was naked again. Her
body glistened as if she had just come from a swim in a lake
of oil, and every part of her was full and vibrant.

Parry was silent. He knew she would give the lie to any
denial he tried to make.

"And this is hardly all I offer," she continued. "I told you
it was just the beginning."

Parry knew that he should fetch out his cross and banish
her, but he did not. "You offer damnation," he said shortly.

"That, too, of course. But damnation is not really that bad.
I am damned, but quite satisfied with my limited existence.
Lucifer can be an excellent Master for those who serve Him
well."

"You have always been damned, beyond any hope of re-
demption; therefore you cannot know the joy of salvation. You
are no judge of it."

"By that term you mean residence in the upper region after
death?"

He looked at her again—and regretted it. She was now quite
close to him, opening her arms in invitation. Her effort to
tempt him was obvious—but that hardly diminished its effect.

"You cannot say the words salvation orHeaven7" he asked.

"That is correct. Or the term for your icon, or any number

134

Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 135

of words relating to the other power. Sometimes I can use
variants if I mean them ironically, such as angelic. But I am
no more limited than you in this respect."

"I can say any word I choose!"

"Oh? Then try this one." She paused, then spoke a word
of such horror and evil that Parry was appalled.

She smiled. "That is too strong? Then let's make it easier.
Say 'Curse ****.' "

"Curse what?"

"The four-letter name of a variant of your god, which I
cannot say."

"I can't do that!" he exclaimed, then realized that he had

conceded her point.

"But I was about to explain what else I offer you." She

stepped toward him.

He grabbed for the cross.

"Wait, Parry! Of course I can't show you if you do that,
any more than you could show me anything if I held you at
bay with an infernal talisman! You must be fair."

"Why should I be fair to a demoness?"

"Because if you are not, that is a signal of evil. A closed
mind is open for evil; you know that."

He did know that. "What, then?"

She stepped toward him again, and put her arms around him
briefly. He tried to suppress his consciousness of her beautiful
body, knowing that it was only a construct of ether.

"There," she said, satisfied. "Have you a mirror?"

Mirrors were rare, but he did have one, used occasionally
in researches. He brought it out.

"Look at yourself."

He looked at his face. A young stranger gazed back at him.
"You have enchanted me!"

"No, only your aspect. I have restored to you the semblance
of your youth. Now you look half your present age."

Parry looked down at his body. It felt lighter and stronger,
but he could not tell whether it had changed.

"Take off your robe," she said.

"What, in front of a—"

She laughed. "A woman? Parry, you know I am not a

woman! I am nothing more than a foul spirit whose presence
you may ignore."

She was right again. Overcome by curiosity. Parry doffed
his robe and looked down at his naked body.

It was lean and firm—a contrast to his present corpulent and
wrinkled one.

"It can perform as youth does, too," Lilah said, stepping
into him and embracing him.

"Hey!" Parry reached for his cross, but could not find it.

"You set the icon aside with your robe," Lilah reminded
him. "But do not be concerned; I will tell no other person
what you do with me." She rubbed against him. "See—you
have excellent reaction time now."

Parry wrenched himself away and dived for the cross. As
he touched it, Lilah vanished and his body reverted to its normal
state. He scrambled back into his robe.

"I regret I cannot give you extra life," Lilah said from
across the chamber. "Only my Lord Lucifer can do that, and
He really does not have that in mind for you at this time. But
you can have much greater joy of your present life."

"Get away from me, temptress!" he gritted.

"Now, Parry, you know I do not respond well to that type
of demand."

Parry nerved himself and forced a smile. "Please, if it pleases
you, depart for a time."

"That's better." She disappeared.

Jolie returned. "I'm almost afraid to ask what happened this
time."

"I'm almost afraid to tell you! She—she made me seem
young again."

"She is getting to you," Jolie said sadly.

"No!" But they both knew that wasn't true.

Parry wrapped up his documents by nightfall. "Tomorrow
morning I go to the Abbot," he said.

Jolie didn't answer. She just gazed at him with love and
resignation, and faded out.

He woke in darkness. A warm body was with him.

"Jolie!" he exclaimed.

"Guess again, lover," the demoness replied. "Though I




136                Piers Anthony

will, if you ask me to, emulate her form and manner for your
pleasure. I have absolutely no pride about that sort of thing; I

want only to please you."

"But a day and night have not passed!"

"I did not promise you a day this time. Parry. I promised
you only a time. That time is done. Now I have returned to
bring you all the joy your ghost-girl cannot bring you."

"Get out!"
"This game becomes tiresome. Make me." She rolled over,

plastering a hot breast against him.

Parry opened his mouth—and she kissed it. He moved his

legs—and she covered them with her own. He struggled, but

she held him like the succubus she resembled.
He finally got his hand on the cross and brought it in.
"Oh, don't do that, lover," she protested. "Not when we

are so close to making it."

He hesitated, then with sudden decision brought the cross
down against her back. And she was gone, leaving him with

an erection and sweaty covers.

Jolie did not appear, and for that he was thankful. The
demoness was aggressive and blatant—but she had an impact.
He had desired her infernal body! Had he been deliberately
clumsy in finding his cross? Had he purposefully delayed in
applying it? He was afraid he knew the answer.

There was indeed evil on his soul, and the demoness was

exploiting it mercilessly.

In the morning Jolie returned. "She came to you at night,"

she said flatly.
Parry nodded. "I thought for a moment it was you. I finally

drove her away with the cross."

"Finally?"
"Jolie, I am a man! I thought I was a friar, but now I know

I am not. I will take my disgrace and go away with you; then

she will leave me alone."

"Will she, Parry?"

"She will have wreaked Lucifer's vengeance on me and the
Order! I will be of no further use to her! And I will be with
you when you are reanimated. Proof against further evil."

She relaxed. "I hope so. Parry!"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         137

He squared his shoulders and walked out of his chamber and
down the hall to the Abbot's office. He had not requested an
audience, but knew the Abbot would see him. Indeed, Parry
himself could have had the office, had he desired it. Now he
was glad he had not; that diminished the potential disaster

somewhat.

The demoness appeared before him, discreetly clothed. "You
can't do it. Parry. You have too much to lose."

' "The world has too much to lose if I do not," he said gruffly.

"But the world need lose nothing! I will help you in any
way you desire."

"To fight your evil master? I doubt it."

"Try me. Parry."

"Don't try her. Parry!" Jolie protested. "She only means
evil!"

"I know that," Parry said. He pushed on, leading with his
cross, and the demoness vanished in her normal manner.

And reappeared elsewhere, also in her normal manner. "Parry,
you have not given me that chance," she said urgently. "Parry,
with my help you could become Pope!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you!" he muttered. "A corrupt
Pope, in liege with Lucifer!"

"It would not be the first time."

Parry halted. "You lie!"

Her lips twitched. "May **** strike me down if I have not
spoken the truth."

"It's irrelevant," Jolie said. "We must get this done. Ob-
viously it will be effective against her, or she wouldn't be
opposing it so."

"You are right, ghost-girl," Lilah said, grimacing. "He
will be of little use to my Master if he loses his position. There
would then be nothing for it but to proceed to the lesser aspect
of His vengeance, and send in the vampires."

"Vampires?" Jolie asked faintly.

"I have fought off possessed creatures before," Parry said.

"These are not possessed," Lilah said. "They are the real
thing. They would come first for your animate ghost-girl, de-
priving her of her new body. You might find her less appetizing

138                Piers Anthony

Parry felt a chill of apprehension. The possessed could be
cured, but true vampires were beyond that. There were ways
to resist them, but it would be difficult for one of flawed virtue.

The threat to Jolie—

"No," he said firmly. "This is a scare tactic. It shall not

move me."

But Jolie, beside him, was fainter.

He reached the Abbot's door. He lifted his knuckle to knock.

"I will show you how to make your Inquisition truly effec-
tive against heretics," Lilah said.

"Why should you do that?" Yet Parry knew that the fact
that he even questioned her meant that he was in doubt about

his course.

"Because heretics are nothing to me or my Master, but your

corruption is everything."

"A likely claim," Parry said, beginning to move his knuc-
kle.

"Don't you understand. Parry—most heretics are incom-
petent ruffians. Seldom is a truly educated and dedicated man
brought into Lucifer's service. You are worth more than all

the rest."

"Before you said mat it was Lucifer's vengeance mat brought

you here."

"That, too, is true. But His mode of it is devious. He never

wastes an opportunity. He much prefers to corrupt you, so that
not only do you serve His purpose, you know it is the worst
possible perversion of your nature and of the faith of those
who believe in you. You will suffer that realization for the rest
of your life, even as you do ever-greater evil. That is the most
exquisite nature of His vengeance. Perhaps you will even do
such harm to the cause you once served that it makes up for

all the mischief you have caused my Master."

"How can you tell me this, knowing I must reject this

course?" Parry asked, appalled.

"That is part of the torture," she said. "You must know
that you could have avoided all of it—and chose to enter into
it instead, for the basest of reasons."

"What basest of reasons?" Parry demanded.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         139

"Lust for a creature of Hell, despite the availability of the
woman you loved in life."

"That's preposterous!"

"Is it. Parry? Then knock on that door." Lilah smiled cruelly,
and her dress disintegrated, leaving her voluptuously naked.

Parry's arm muscles tensed—but his knuckles did not touch
the door. He tried again, and again his hand did not move. He
could not knock!

He looked around, seeking Jolie, but she was gone.

"No good, lover," Lilah murmured. "She knows what you
know: you have accepted what I offer in your soul, and she is
doomed."

"Jolie!" he cried with horror.

"Do not wail for her, mortal man. She has completed her
onus, that bore down her soul despite an exemplary life. She
has at last brought you to the evil you were destined for. Now
she is free to go—and perhaps, if she is fortunate, my Lord
will not treat her harshly."

"Jolie can't go to hell!" he cried.

"She surely can't go to the other place."

"She must stay with me, to be my conscience, as always."

"Your conscience is doomed. Parry. You are one of us

now.

"No!"

"No? Then knock on that door."

Again Parry tried, and again failed. Even to save the soul
of his wife, he could not do it.

He collapsed against the door, wracked by sobs. What an
awful failure this was, this failure of his will!

The demoness embraced him, stroking him here and there,
stirring his lust despite his grief. "Lover, this is only the
beginning," she assured him. "You will rue this hour the rest
of your life."

Parry was all too certain this was true.




8

LUCIFER

Lilah led him back to his chamber. Parry went without resis-
tance, stunned by his inability to do what he knew was right.
The demoness really had corrupted him!

In the chamber, Lilah turned, her clothing fuzzing to fog
and wafting away. "You have joined us. Parry, and now I

shall reward you."

Parry gripped his cross. "No!"
She walked toward him, her torso moving with rhythms of

its own. "Yes."

He jabbed the cross at her midriff. It passed through her
without effect. She neither vanished nor screamed; she merely
waited. "But—the cross!" he exclaimed, stunned.

"Parry, your icon is only as potent as the faith behind it.
You have lost your faith. You can no longer invoke your prior
god in your defense." She moved on in to him, and her hands
went to his robe, opening it.

"Jolie!" he cried.

"She is gone, lover," Lilah said. "I am your woman
now. But I want you to think of your ghost-girl as you in-
dulge your carnal lust with me, so that you can really ap-

140

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         141

preciate the irony. She started your corruption, and I am
completing it."

"Get away from met"' he cried, pushing at her. But it did
no good. His right hand, holding the cross, was unable to touch
her body at all, passing freely through it, while his left came
up against her plush right breast. There, the touch was all too
tangible.

Meanwhile her hands were busy, efficiently baring his body.
She moved the rest of the way in to him, pressing against him
from thigh to breast, while his right hand continued to flail
helplessly within her substance as if it did not exist. Then she
quivered, and her belly seemed to stroke his while her hips
rotated slowly.

"I beg of you—" he gasped, finally letting go of her breast.

She drew back. "I will always do what you ask, when you
phrase it that way. Parry. But I believe you would really rather
move on to the culmination."

"I am a friar!"

"You are a man." She glanced at his body significantly.
"You can see that your body wants me."

Parry grabbed for his robe, to cover his aroused body. "You
are a damned succubus!"

"Faint praise. Parry! I am much more than that. But if you
really wish to wait for the raw sex, I will wait. I have no carnal
desire of my own, of course; I am only acting as my Lord
Lucifer directs, to corrupt you suitably, and this is merely a
single aspect of it. What other aspect would you prefer to start
with?"

"No aspect! I don't want to be corrupted at all!"

"You are lying. Parry. That is good; you do need practice
m that." Her left hand caught his right wrist, and lifted his
hand back toward her left breast.

"I'm not lying!"

She smiled. "I have no need to prove my point, but it
entertains me to do so. Doff your robe again, stand before me,
and tell me that you do not wish to partake of my body."

Parry did not answer, aware that he could not pass such a
test.

142                Piers Anthony

"But you know that my body is infernally crafted to evoke
the basest lust in a mortal man," she continued. "You know
the route you are headed when what rises is not your soul but

your member."
"Damn you!"
"Thank you."

"Go away!" he said, closing his eyes.
"Why, when you really do not want me to?" Her lips brushed

against his.

"Please, demoness, leave me!"

"That's better, Parry. I will return when you retire for the
night. I think you need time to yourself to adjust to your new

reality."

He remained with his eyes screwed closed. She did not speak

again. Finally he opened his eyes, and verified that she was

gone.

"Jolie?"

But Jolie did not appear. He knew why: she had been ban-
ished by his accession to evil. She knew what he refused to
acknowledge: the demoness had aroused his lust, and he could

not free himself of it.

Was it too late to leave the Order? He walked to the door

—and stopped, unable even to start toward the Abbot's office.
He dropped to his knees and prayed. "Oh, Lord, grant me

release from this bondage!"

"Now that would be foolish, wouldn't it."

Parry glanced up, startled.
There hovered a small black cloud within the chamber. As

he gazed at it, it sprouted horns.

"No!" Parry hurled himself away.

The cloud laughed and dissipated.

The wrong Lord had answered his prayer. His orientation
had changed; he now answered to Lucifer instead of to God.

How could such a calamity have happened? He had labored
so hard for the cause of God! How could a single episode of

love with his wife bring such ruin on him?

But he knew the answer. He was a friar, and celibate. What
Jolie had offered had been sinful, and had his faith been true,
he would have rejected it. His faith had not been true, and this

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         143

was the proof of it. His inability to give up his position as an
important Dominican was another proof: he had succumbed to
worldliness in the guise of holiness.

Still, he did not regard himself as an evil man, merely as a
fallible one. Granted that he fell short of perfection, he could
still do much good, just as a tree that was rotting at the core
could still cast good shade and bear good fruit. Perhaps, if he
continued his good works, he would in time recover his prior
orientation and rejoin God.

He felt better. He went about his business of the day, la-
boring for a cause that he knew was good even if he himself
was not.

But when he sought to retire at night, the demoness was in
his bed, as warm and luscious as ever. "Are you ready to
enjoy me now, lover?" she inquired.

"No!"

"Your body says otherwise."

"My body lies!"

"Your mind lies, not your body. That's lovely."

"May God banish you, temptress!"

"Your terminology has no power when not backed by faith."

Obviously that was true, for she remained warm against him.
"How can I make you go?"

"You really do not need to ask again. Parry. You know the
answer."

"But you always return!"

"That is the nature of evil."

"I beg of—"

She silenced him with a hand on his lips. "Parry, we must
end this charade. Do the forthright thing: accept your situation,
and get on with it. I return so insistently only because you
desire me to."

"That's—"

"The truth." She embraced him and kissed him, ardently.

"No!" he exclaimed when able to wrench his face free.

"Would it help if I took the initiative?"

"I—" He was unable to answer.

"That is a useful device for reticent maidens, who are con-
strained not to confess the base desires they feel. They would




144                Piers Anthony

have it that they are powerless to prevent being ravished, but
that is a legal fiction. We are experienced in all manner of
fictions, in the Kingdom of Lies.'' She stroked her body against

his.

Parry knew he should protest, but he did not.

She proceeded to make love to him, while he lay almost
unmoving. Technically, she was doing it, not he—but he could
no longer deny that she was doing what he desired.

She brought him to a phenomenal climax, enhanced by its
great guilt. "I had hoped you would be more of a challenge,"
she remarked sardonically as he was in the throes of it. Then,
as he spasmed, she faded away, leaving him to foul himself.

That, of course, was the finishing touch. He felt completely
dirty and ashamed. "Never again!" he swore—but knew even
then that he swore falsely.

In the course of the night, he succeeded in coming to terms
with himself: the demoness had evoked his lust, and there was
no staying it. It was better simply to indulge, leaving his mind

clear for better things.

She reappeared at dawn. "Well, Parry, ready for the day's

mischief?" she inquired brightly.
The sight of her evoked his lust as if it had never been sated.

That, too, it seemed, was an attribute of the gifts of Lucifer:

temporary satisfaction, lasting guilt. "Yes," he said tightly,

and stepped toward her.

But she became smoke in his arms. "No, no, Parry," the

smoke spoke, as to an errant child. "I gave you a mere sample.
To obtain more, you must please me, and if you please me
sufficiently, I may even remain throughout the night. Would

you like that?"

He was done with lying. "Yes. How may I please you?"

"By doing a significant deed of evil in the name of good.
As it happens, there is a case just now coming up: a heretic
who refuses to recant. You must make him recant."

"But that will be a good deed!" he protested.

"For him, perhaps; not for you."

Parry found that confusing. He shrugged, and set about
making the journey. He rode the donkey, as before, but now

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         145

it was Lilah, not Jolie, who accompanied him. She chatted
freely about all things evil, and it was amazing the breadth of
things that included. She seemed to know all the gossip about
prominent figures, and she clarified with quite believable pre-
cision exactly which aspects of it were true. Parry was disgusted
with himself for listening, but nonetheless fascinated. Thus he
was immersed in news of evil throughout, and knew this was
further corrupting him, but he could not resist it. Each time
he thought to reject it, Lilah's body became naked and sugges-
tive, and his lust rose up, and he knew he had to have her no
matter what the cost. He also knew that that cost would be
ever-greater evil on his soul, leading inevitably to eternal dam-
nation. That appalled him—but he had tasted her wares, so to
speak, and now was addicted.

That was the ugliest part of it: he knew exactly what was
happening, yet could not wrench himself out of the process.
Lucifer's minion was doing her job perfectly.

The heretic had pled innocent, and no amount of suasion
had been effective. That was why Parry had been assigned.
To this extent this was a normal case.

"But fair reasoning will not sway this one," Lilah said with
satisfaction. "Neither will brutal torture; he will die first, and
be lost to your former master. You must of course prevent
mat."

"Why do you care?" Parry demanded, knowing the nature
of her answer but compelled to ask anyway. If there could be
some way out, some way to please her without further damning
himself . . . but he knew there was not, for her purpose was
to damn him.

Parry went into the dungeon and interviewed the captive.
The man showed the ravages of his interrogation; he could no
longer stand or feed himself, for the bones of his limbs had
been dislocated by the procedure known as squassation: he had
been hauled up on a pulley, with weights attached to his legs,
and then dropped suddenly so that his feet did not quite reach
the floor. This had been done three times, destroying his limbs,
and it was obvious that he would not survive another. Despite
the excrutiating pain of this, he had refused to implicate any
other heretics. This was a problem, because the local authorities




146

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         147

Piers Anthony

were mnning out of heretics, and needed the revenues gen-
erated by continued confiscations of properties.

Parry shook his head. He had helped start the Inquisition in
order to purify the faith, not to extort wealth from victims.
The secular authorities might have base motives, but the In-
quisition had only lofty motives: the salvation of the individ-
ual's immortal soul, and the purity of the faith.

"But you will help change that," Lilah said. "The desire
for wealth is one of my Lord's principal tools in the corruption
of men. So you must get this man to implicate others, that the
chain of extortion may continue and grow, in the end corrupting
the Church as well as the individuals."

The corruption of the Inquisition itself! Parry considered
that, and balked. "Demoness, you demand too much! I'll not
turn against—"

He broke off, for she was floating in the air, on her back,
and spreading her legs toward him. His lust surged up like a
living entity, paced by his guilt. Damn her!

He would have to make the prisoner talk. That would main-
tain his reputation as the interrogator of last resort, and would
bring him the favor of the demoness. He hated both aspects
of it, but knew he would do it.

But how could he persuade a man who was ready to die
under torture rather than implicate another person? That was
the problem that had brought him here.

"Remember," Lilah reminded him. "You are no longer
constrained by ethical considerations. My Lord believes in
effectiveness, and therefore can accomplish things your prior
lord cannot."

Parry sighed. He knew what would do it. The heretic had
a small daughter. He did not want her to suffer; that was the
source of his stamina.

But corrupt as he was becoming. Parry would not torture an
innocent child! That might make the heretic give evidence, but
would be no credit on the Church or himself.

"Remember, my Lord is the master of deceit," Lilah said.

She was giving him strong hints, but leaving him to figure
it out for himself, because corruption had to come from within.
Now Parry realized what she was driving at. Truly, it was

infernal—but it would surely work. And it seemed he had no
choice, if he was not to give up what he could not give up.
For the love of evil, he was damning himself.

"Can you assume the form of the heretic's child?" he asked
her.

"I though you would never ask!" she said brightly. She
became the child: a string-haired waif of about five years, with
big gray eyes and a tattered dress and a straw doll.

Parry took the waifs hand and led her into me chamber
where die heretic lay. "P6re!" she cried.

The man's sunken eyes opened. He gave a start of recog-
nition.

The waif took a step toward him, but Parry held her back.
"Silence, brat!" he snapped. "You will have your chance to
talk soon enough."

She began to cry. The prisoner gazed at her with alarm.
"You would not—?"

Parry reached down with his free hand and grasped me waif
by the hair. He hauled her up off the floor while she screamed
piercingly. He glanced meaningfully at the ropes and pulley
at me far end of the chamber.

The prisoner capitulated. "I will give the names!"

Parry smiled with cruel benificence. "May God have mercy
on your soul." And on his own, he thought. But mere was
little chance of that.

The rest was routine. Parry escorted the mocked-up child
out, leaving the local personnel to take down the information.
The heretic would be required to sign a statement (they had
been careful not to break the angers of his right hand) mat
he had given testimony freely and without duress, and to
testify against those he implicated as companion heretics.
Then he would be allowed to retire to prison for the remainder
of his life. His family would not be bothered, once their prop-
erty had been taken. His soul had after all been saved for
eternity.

Parry received his reward in full measure; the demoness was
pleased with him, and she had ways of expressing that pleasure
mat transcended the powers of mortal women. She gave him
the semblance of youth, and the vigor and potency of youth,




and she became a succession of luscious young women who
availed themselves freely of that potency with ever-increasing
imagination. He found himself doing things with her whose
very description would have evoked the Index, and that no
decent person would have cared to imagine.

But the knowledge of the cruel trick he had played on the
heretic haunted him; truly, this was a device he would never
have thought of, let alone practiced, in his day of serving God.
Worse, he knew that he would use similar devices in the future,
for the demoness had as cruel a hold on him as he had had on
the first heretic: illusion that cut through to the core.

Five years passed in this slow descent. Parry never sought
personal aggrandizement, preferring as he had before to be the
power behind the power, but in private he wielded critical
control over the Inquisition in France, the Holy Roman Empire
and Italy. Under his direction, money became the engine that
drove me Inquisition; the spoils were the estates of the accused
heretics, and the requirement that each confessed heretic im-
plicate others guaranteed that the proceeds would be ongoing.
The Inquisition was now on a sound financial footing—and
well on the way to ultimate corruption.

With each successful case, Lilah became more ardent. Parry
was becoming older, but he felt younger, because of the magic
of the demoness and his infatuation with her. A billy goat
seemed to have taken up residence within him, so that in those
moments when he could not be fornicating with her, his mind
remained on the subject. He suspected that this was an en-
chantment placed on him, to greatly enhance his lust, but he
did not care. He lived to indulge it.

The first part of Lucifer's vengeance was complete: the man
who had done most to organize the Inquisition as a force for
good had now reorganized it as a force for evil. That evil was
self-sustaining; it would feed on itself and continue long after
Parry himself was gone.

"My Master is pleased with you," Lilah said. "It is time
for an audience with Him."

Parry was not eager for that, knowing that there could be

FOR LOVE Of EVJL         149

little benefit in it for him. But this was not a thing he was in
a position to refuse.

Lilah made a circle in the air of his chamber with her finger.
As mat circle closed, the circle filled in, becoming a disk. She
hooked her thumb into the side of that disk, and it swung open
like a door.

Beyond it was a tunnel. "After you, lover," she said, ges-
turing into it.

Parry climbed in. At first me tunnel was large enough only
for his body on hands and knees, but soon it widened, so mat
he could stand. Lilah joined him, showing him the way.

They followed a descending spiral down through an increas-
ingly intricate network of chambers and passages. They were,
he realized, on their way to Hell.

At length they reached a grand nether audience chamber.
There, on a golden throne, sat the Prince of Evil, Lord Lucifer.
He was a darkly handsome figure with well-defined horns and
tail, exactly as represented in contemporary paintings. Ob-
viously me artists had had infernal inspiration.

"Bow down," Lilah whispered. "Prostrate yourself before
the Son of the Morning."

Parry hesitated. "The what?"

"My Lord Lucifer, the Morning Star, as he was known
before the Pall. Get down!"

"So the friar shows doubt," Lucifer boomed. "For that will
I do him one disfavor. Friar, I tell thee what thou dost not
wish to know: the date of my death. It is precisely three years
hence, at the hour of—"

Parry dropped to the floor, prostrating himself before Lu-
cifer, and the malignant voice cut off. The Lord of Lies was
satisfied.

The Lord of Lies. Did that mean mat this cruel information
was a lie? That Lucifer was merely taunting him with a fal-
lacious date of demise?

"The friar still doubts!" Lucifer boomed again. "To Hell
with him!"

Suddenly flames rose up around Parry. They closed in on
him, their heat excruciating. His robe caught fire. He scrambled

150                Piers Anthony

to his feet and leaped out of the circle. He struck the ground
rolling, but the material of his robe blazed up again the moment
it was upward. He tore the robe off, getting free of the agony
only when naked.

And found himself the cynosure of a multitude of eyes. They
belonged to young women, naked themselves, who gazed at
him in shocked confusion. Each held a three-lined pitchfork.
Parry tried to cover himself, but had nothing other than his
hands. He realized the effort was pointless, and desisted; after
all, they were as embarrassed as he.

He was in a more literal version of Hell. There was choking
smoke and smoldering fire all around, extending endlessly.
The fire was contained in circular pits, each tended by one of
me maidens.

The nearest pits blazed up vigorously. The girls squealed in
dismay, and returned to their labors, using pitchforks to scoop
ashes from the edges into the center of each fire. This had me
effect of damping the flames, though there was a compen-
sating increase in the vile smoke, causing the girls to cough
uncontrollably. Most of the ashes sifted down between the
widely spaced tines, which hardly helped, but they had no
other tools.

So his appearance here had distracted these damned souls,
causing them to neglect their fires, and they had been punished
by increased heat and smoke. Obviously they had to keep
constantly at it, or they would very soon be even more un-
comfortable than they were.

Lilah appeared. "I have prevailed on my Lord to give you
another chance," she said. "Considering that this is your first
visit here. Apologize to Him, and He will grant you the in-
tended audience."

Parry realized that this was the best course. Obviously Lu-
cifer could read his mind, and he had indeed doubted what
Lucifer had told him.

Then he noticed something about Lilah. Her normally perfect
tresses were in disarray, and there were marks on her body.
She was a demoness; no mortal could muss her or mark her,
as he had long since discovered.

"You were left with him," he said. "Did he hurt you?"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         151

"Of course not," she said quickly. "I cannot be hurt."
"But he did something to you! You're changed!"
"I am His creature," she reminded him. "I never suggested
otherwise. He can do what He likes with me."

The nearer fire girls were becoming distracted again, over-
hearing this dialogue.

"What did he do to you?" Parry demanded.
"Nothing I was not made for," she said defensively. "Look,
Parry, this is dangerous. Just apologize to Him, and—"
"How did you get him to reconsider?"
"Parry, you know I have only one way to—"
"You had sex with him!" he cried, in a sudden fit of jealous
rage. "You prostituted yourself to him!"

"That term has no meaning for my kind. Please, Parry, be
reasonable, lest—"
"You whore!" he screamed.

The visage of Lucifer appeared amidst the hovering smoke.
"Methinks our friar hath not quite yet relinquished his monkly
ways," the Lord of Lies said. "Let him remain here for eter-
nity, then!"

"My Lord, no!" Lilah cried. "It is not yet his time!"
"And thou with him, strumpet, for thy failure," Lucifer
intoned, and faded out.

Lilah tore at her hair in a remarkably human gesture of
remorse. "Now look what you've done. Parry! We'll never
get out of here!"

Parry's rage evaporated. Of course she was a creature of
this nether region, and sexual fidelity had no meaning for her.
He had reacted possessively, when he had no right to be. She
had never told him that she cared for him at all; she had only
rewarded him in a calculated manner when he did what she
wished. Whore? She had never claimed to be anything else!
She had acted in her fashion to try to obtain a reprieve for
him, and had succeeded—and he had thrown it away by his
narrowness.

"I apologize to you, Lilah," he said. "But not to him."
There was a smattering of applause from the surrounding
women. Then they hastened back to their work.
"It's too late to apologize to anyone!" she snapped. Yet

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FOR LOVE OF EVIL         153

Piers Anthony

she seemed mollified; she had always reacted positively when
he addressed her in a polite manner. It was evident that demons
did not get much respect, and craved it. "We're both stuck
here with the adulterous wives. In a moment the warders will
assign us to our separate places."

Parry had been almost ready to accept this chamber of Hell,
if it was to be in Lilah's company. Now he realized that of
course it would not be; Lucifer would hardly allow him to have
that satisfaction.

"Maybe we can escape," he said.

"Fool—there is no escape. The attempt would only aggra-
vate the warders." She looked him for a moment in the eye.
"But I will say that your jealously was very nattering. You
know I am not worthy of it."

It was almost as if she were human! Their common plight
had for this moment put them on an equal basis. "I think you
are," he replied.

"A demoness? I am no more than a tool in my Master's
hands.. I have no soul, no conscience, no imperative except to
do His will. His will is that I corrupt you, and that I am doing.
Certainly you owe me nothing; I extract payment from you in
full measure for every reward I return."

Absolute truth. "Yet you are very good at what you do,"
he said.

"I certainly am. Too bad I will not be allowed to do it
anymore."

"So you do have pride in your work."

"Pride is one of the basic sins."

"And one of the basic virtues." But of course she would
not regard that interpretation with favor. "Why did you try to
get me another chance with Lucifer?"

"Because your failure is my failure. I had to give you a
chance to show that I have done a proper job corrupting you.
Then I could continue."

"Why not just let me go, and start with another assign-
ment?"

"Well, I—"

"You're lying," he said.

"I never lie!"

"Then tell me that you care nothing for me. That I'm only
an assignment."

She opened her mouth, and paused. Then she laughed.
"You're doing it back to me! You're corrupting me with words!"

"I have had excellent teaching," he replied dryly.

She considered. "As a demoness, I have no mortal emotions,
only emulations I use to deceive mortal folk like you. But I
do have an abiding desire to accomplish my purpose, which
is to please my Master. I see in you the potential for enormous
evil; therefore your corruption will accrue equivalent power to
my Master, and He will be equivalendy pleased. I believe my
Master errs in throwing you away. Therefore I tried to persuade
Him to allow the process of your corruption to be completed.
I care for you in the manner you might for an exceedingly
precious gem, or a unique tool to accomplish your purpose. It
would be foolish to mistake this for caring for you personally.
J am incapable of that."

Parry nodded. That had the ring of authenticity. "I know
you for what you are, Lilah. But I am mortal, and human. I
hate you for what you have done to me and my spirit wife,
but I care for you too, and hate myself for that. So just let me
delude myself that there is some spark of human sentiment in
you, masked by your demonic nature."

"Delusion is the hallmark of this realm," she reminded him.
"Here comes the warder."

The warder was a huge masculine demon bearing a three-
tailed whip, which he lashed about routinely, striking the flanks
of the laboring women. The women screamed piercingly; but
the manner in which they cringed from the warder suggested
that the whip was not the worst they feared from him. One
woman even stumbled into her pit; there was a horrible hiss as
her feet burned, and her scream redoubled as she scrambled out.

These were damned souls. Parry knew; they had no mortal
flesh. But they looked physical, and evidently felt so. They
were truly being punished for their failure to remain loyal to
their home hearths. As was Parry himself, now that he had
taken the demoness as his lover. Lucifer was a cruel and some-
what arbitrary master!

"This way, sludge!" the demon rasped, tagging Parry on a




154               Piers Awthoay

buttock with a casual flick of die whip. Pain lanced through
Parry's flesh; he bit his tongue in his effort not to scream.
"What's a male soul doing here?"

"Lucifer has a warped sense of humor," Pany replied as
his agony abated.

The demon raised the whip for a more telling strike—and
recognized Lilah. "What are you doing here, Lil?" he de-
manded. "Slumming?"

"I failed to corrupt this mortal sufficiently," she explained.
"So I am incarcerated here with him."

"Ho, ho! That means you are finally subject to my lust, you
snooty creature. I have lusted for a piece of your posterior for
centuries. Come here!" He grabbed for her.

"Down, dog!" Lilah snapped. "I'm not for the likes of
you!"

But the demon caught her and hauled her in for a tusky kiss.
Parry realized that she could not dematerialize here in die netfier
spirit realm; not now that she had been classified as an inmate
rather than a favored creature. She could not avoid the demon
as she could a mortal man on the surface.

Before he knew it. Parry grabbed a fork from the nearest
woman and launched himself at the demon. He stabbed it at
the creature's rear.

But the fork passed through without resistance. The demon,
intent on Lilah, hadn't even noticed; his flesh was untouchable
by local artifacts. But it was evident that Lilah's substance was
touchable. She was struggling valiantly, but the demon was
overpowering her, and in a moment would have his will of her.

Parry had to do something—but what? On one level he knew
this was utterly foolish, because Lilah was an infernal creature
who could hardly be hurt by the act of the demon. Human
standards did not apply here. Yet she was in her singular
fashion his female, and he could not stand to see her ravished.
It had been bad enough knowing that Lucifer had used her.
This time the horror was occurring right in his sight.

He had no weapon that could prevail against the warder. He
could not even touch the warder! How, then, could he bring
the creature up short?

His mouth opened, and he began to sing.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         155

Creature of Hell, hark unto me!

Turn not against your own kind!

Consider how all of you are minions of Lucifer,

How all labor for a common cause.

The warder paused. Parry was improvising in the same man-
ner he had when protecting me children from the possessed
animals, using the mode of address that had been effective
then. He was trying to pacify the evil spirit, to make it respond
to his own will. He was putting magic into his song, reaching
out to the demon not in enmity but in understanding.

Creature of Hell, remember that favor is fickle;

As you treat your associate, so may you

sometime be treated.

When Lucifer's favor orients again on her,
What you do now may be remembered.

The warder froze, evidently shaken. As Parry continued
singing, the warder let Lilah slide from his grasp. She stepped
back, staring at Parry.

Parry took Lilah's hand and led her away from the stunned
warder, still singing. She walked with him without resistance,
her eyes fixed on him. They wound through die chamber, and
all the women stared likewise at diem, their fires untended.
But, while he sang, die fires did not blaze up.

They came to die chamber wall. There was an opening in
it, guarded by another warder. Parry continued singing and
improvising, and the demon watched without moving. They
entered die opening, and walked down a passage. When die
entrance to the tunnel was small in die distance behind. Parry
stopped singing.

Now Lilah took the initiative. She moved ahead, still holding
Parry's hand, tugging him along me route she selected. They
turned a comer at an intersection, dien anodier, and anodier,
wending dirough die labyrurth. Now die general trend was
upward.

At last they emerged from die final tunnel, and stepped down

1S6                Piers Anthony

into Parry's chamber in the monastery. Lilah turned, closed
the door and erased it with a sweep of her hand.
They had won their freedom from Hell after all.
Lilah spoke no word. Instead she embraced him and kissed
him with unusual intensity, and made love to him with a passion
bordering on ferocity. It was of course her way of expressing

pleasure with him; she knew no other.

Later, as he drifted to sleep with Lilah snuggling close. Parry
considered what had occurred. He had succeeded in singing
the demons of Hell itself into quiescence! How could that have
happened? The surface of me world was me mortal realm,
where mortals and demons could interact in limited ways; hu-
man magic could prevail against demon spirits if appropriately
exercised. But Hell? That was hardly to be believed! If me
damned souls could escape, they would be doing so in droves.

Of course he was not yet a damned soul; he was a mortal.
Perhaps, then, Lucifer had been bluffing; he could not hold
the souls of the living in hell. That meant that Parry's singing
could have been incidental; all he had had to do was walk out.

But Lilah—she was of Lucifer's domain. Surely Lucifer could
hold her if he chose. Had Parry gotten her free despite Lucifer's
sentence on her—or had that, too, been a bluff? For once Parry
got free, who would corrupt him if not Lilah? Perhaps Lucifer
had had to let her go, once Parry made his move for freedom.
Therefore all of this could be less man it seemed.

Still, suppose he had not tried to make the break? Suppose
he had simply stood and let Lilah be raped by the demon?
Would he ever have escaped then? He wasn't sure. Lucifer,
the master of deception, had tried to deceive him into believing
that he was a prisoner in Hell, and it had come closer to success

man Parry liked to imagine.

He had done what he had done because of the threat to Lilah.
That had perhaps been an act of folly. But it had demonstrated
the extent of her hold on him, and she was duly pleased. She
was after all a demoness; her power lay in her influence over
him. Thus neither his action nor her reaction reflected favorably

on either of them.

He tried to be angry with her. But his hand stroked her
warm, plush bottom, and his lust, so recently sated, rose again.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         157

She responded, encouraging it. His anger turned back on him-
self, but did not cause him to desist. His need for her was
beyond outrage.
Parry realized that his corruption was proceeding apace.

Parry was slated to die in 1250; he no longer doubted Luci-
fer's word on that, for such knowledge was a most insidious
torture. That meant that his time with Lilah was limited, for he
knew mat once he died, her assignment with him would be over.
He was desperate to please her, so as to gain as much of her
semblance of love as he possibly could while he could. He knew
it was not real, for a demoness was incapable of such emotion,
but he cherished the illusion. It was all he had to pursue.

Indeed, she acted like a woman in love now, and she was
letter perfect at it. She no longer teased him by fading out just
before the culmination of their sexual unions; she remained
with him throughout, making each fulfillment as compelling
as the arousal. She did whatever he asked, whenever he asked,
being completely malleable to his will. If he asked her a ques-
tion, she answered; if he asked her to leave him for a time,
she did so.

"But what do you want?" he asked, perplexed by die con-
sistency of her attitude.

"Just to hear your voice. Parry," she replied. "Sing to me,
as you did in Hell. I thrill to the suggestion of the Llano."

"The what?"

"The Llano, the ultimate song. Sing to me again."

Technically, he had been singing to the warder demon, but
it had been on Lilah's behalf. He was curious about this special
song she spoke of, but did not care to advertise his ignorance
lest it in some way benefit Lucifer. He sang to her extempo-
raneously , and she simply watched him with a look of adoration
on her face.

Parry did not fully trust this, so he was careful to keep trying
to please her exactly as if she still rewarded him only on
performance. He searched for new evil to do, so that she would
know he was on the job.

He found a beauty. King Louis DC of France was the most
chivalrous monarch of Europe, lofty of character and an ex-




158                PiersAwthony

cellent King. He was working hard to establish proper justice
in die kingdom. This tended to inhibit the developing proce-
dures of the Inquisition, and certainly it was not good for
Lucifer's operations. If Louis could be removed from the scene,
it would be a coup!

He worked out me way. A crusade! There had been talk of
such an effort for years, but it hadn't materialized. Now Parry
used his influence as a leading friar and got the crusade moving.
In 1248 Louis set sail for me Holy Land by way of Egypt.

In 1249 the Nile Delta city of Damietta was taken by the
crusaders without a struggle; all seemed to be going well. But
Parry knew mat this was a trap. The crusaders marched south
toward Cairo—and were routed. The army was massacred and
Louis was captured by the Saracens in 1250. The job had been
done.

But Parry was out of time. His aging body was breaking
down; his breathing was hard, even when Lilah gave him the
semblance of youth, and he knew his lungs were deteriorating.
His heart was going, too; he could feel its too rapid flutter.

"Now you are dying, thoroughly corrupted," Lilah said.
"You know you are destined for Hell."

"I know. But these nine years with you have been worth
it. Mock me as you will, demoness; I would do it again. Will
you visit me in Hell?"

"I flunk not."

He sighed. This was of course part of his punishment: to
long for me demoness and be forever denied her.

"Will you kiss me once more before I go?"

He expected another refusal, as she savored the last dreg of
her victory over him, but she got down close to him. Her eyes
seemed luminous. "Parry," she whispered, "it doesn't have
to be!"

He tried to laugh, but only gagged. He was in the last hour
of his mortal life, perhaps me last minutes. He had to die, and
he surely was not going to Heaven!

"Parry," she repealed urgently. "You are a sorcerer! A
potent one! You could be the best, if you tried! The way you
sing—that suggests your potential. Use what you know to—"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         159

"What is this?" a new voice interrupted.

Lilah shrank away. It was Lucifer himself.

Parry coughed and managed to clear his throat enough to
speak. "You come for me personally. Lord of Lies?"

"I always come for My vengeance personally," Lucifer
replied. "What would existence be like without the pleasure
of the torment of Mine enemies? You have served Me well,
mortal, and now you shall pay for that with eternal torment in
the most excruciating fires of Hell."

"I am ready," Parry wheezed.

"But you have a few minutes remaining to suffer in this
life. I want you to understand your situation exactly." Lucifer's
baleful gaze moved to Lilah. "Wench, revile him."

Wench. Old anger stirred in Parry's breast. His blood began
to circulate more strongly, and his mind clarified. He knew it
was his last effort of life, but he wanted to strike back at his
former nemesis and present master. He served Lucifer; that
did not mean he liked him.

Lilah stood by Parry's bed, gazing down at him, unspeaking.

What was it she had told him? To use his magic to—

"Speak, slut!" Lucifer said. But still she did not. She merely
looked at Parry with that same emulation of adoration she had
affected these past three years.

To do what? She had said that it didn't have to be. What
could she have meant? That there was some alternative to
Hell?

"Do you defy Me, you piece of ether?" Lucifer snapped at
Lilah. "What is the matter with you? Spit on him!"

Still Lilah gazed, and now a tear showed on her cheek.

"You disreputable bitch!" Lucifer exclaimed, amazed. "You
have fallen for him!"

Fallen for him?

Lilah dropped to her knees and embraced Parry's supine
form as well as she could. Her tears wet his face. "Oh, Parry,
I cannot say it!"

She was a demoness. She could not say she loved him. But
now he realized that she did. Her gazes of adoration had been
genuine.

160 Piers Anthony

"When?" Parry rasped, as amazed as Lucifer.

"Yes, tell us when," Lucifer said in such fury that steam
was rising from him.' 'It is an error I shall never again permit.''

"When you sang me out of Hell," Lilah said to Parry.
".When you sang to me with the power of the Llano. You
charmed the demons—and I am a demoness."

"When he sang," Lucifer demanded incredulously. "You
deserted Me for a song?"

"I deserted You for a man," she said.

Lucifer considered. "A mortal can love, and be in other
respects unchanged. A demon can love only totally. When the
object of that love is gone, that demon is destroyed. You have
given up your existence for three foolish years with a dying
mortal."

"It was worth it," Lilah whispered, kissing Parry's lips.

Now Parry knew why she would not visit him in Hell. When
he died, she would cease to exist. She had known this through-
out, as surely as he had known that his involvement with her
would damn his soul. A truer love could not exist.

"But I intended you to suffer!" Lucifer said angrily to Lilah.
"No one betrays Me without punishment!"

"I am suffering now," Lilah said, clinging to Parry.

"It is not enough," Lucifer said grimly. He lifted his hand,
and a nicker of fire played about it. He pointed at the demoness.
"Bum, bitch, while he watches!"

Parry summoned his last resolve as she hugged him. "No!"

Lucifer's lip curled into a sneer. "I will banish her to that
very fire awaiting you, mortal fool! But she will suffer only
while you remain alive. Then your soul will replace her there,
and she will not exist. Take your time about dying!"

Lucifer made a gesture. Lilah clung to Parry. And Parry did
the only thing he could think of: he invoked his mirror spell.
His shield against hostile magic. All of his remaining strength
went into it; he knew that the strain was destroying his heart,
and that he would be dead in a moment. But Lilah would spend
no time in the agony of the flame.

Lucifer's magic bounced. Suddenly Lucifer himself was bathed
in flames. He disappeared, screaming.




FOR LOVE OF EVIL         161

Lilah lifted her head. "You did it!" she cried. "Take the
Office! Take the Office!"

Parry's heart was fibrillating, going into its final throes.
"What?"

"Assume the Office!" she screamed at him.

His brain was clouding. As his consciousness faded, he made
his final effort to please her. "I—assume—die Office," he gasped.

Hame coalesced about him, but it did not burn.

"Choose Your title!" she cried.

What was she talking about? "Look, Lilah," he gasped "I—"

"Your title! Your title! It must be now! But different from
that of your predecessor. You can be Scrotch, or Satan—"

The second was less objectionable. "Satan," he repeated.

"Choose Your form!" she urged him.

"What?"

"It must be now, at the outset! Your true form for the Office.
Choose Your form."

"I—choose the form I was at age twenty-five," he said.

Abruptly the constriction of his heart eased, and it beat
slowly and strongly. Strength returned.

"Choose Your consort!" she cried.

He hardly understood this process. ' 'I want to be with you.''

She hugged him and kissed him. "For as long as You want
me, my Lord of Evil!"

The bottom dropped out of his equilibrium. "Who?"

"You have assumed the Office, my Lord! You vanquished
the former holder, and now it is Yours. You will be forever
as You are now, physically, until some other claimant deceives
You as You deceived Your predecessor and dispossesses You.
But that need never happen."

"I—am Lucifer?" Parry asked, dumbfounded.

"No, Your title is Satan. You chose it."

"But I am the—the new master of Hell?"

"The Lord of Evil," she agreed. "In Your mortal body as
it was at age twenty-five, and I am Your consort. All else is
malleable."

"But all I was trying to do was protect you from torture! I
never thought my spell would destroy Lucifer himself!"

162 Piers Anthony

"You protected me from extinction itself," she said. "I
have no existence apart from my love of You. Now I will serve
You utterly, in any manner You require, just as I served the
prior Lord of Evil when I loved him."

Parry felt dizzy. "There is something about the way you
pronounce—"

She laughed. "You are now a deity, my Lord! Co-equal
with the other one. I refer to You always as such."

"And—and I am now to run Hell?"

' 'And forward the cause of Evil, exactly as Your predecessor
did. As You have done these past nine years, serving him."
The subtle accent that denoted her respect was no longer on
her reference to the prior Lord of Evil.

"I don't think I know how to handle this."

"I will help You in any way I can," she assured him. "You
will quickly grow accustomed to the exercise of this power.
You will come to understand that Evil is the opposite aspect
of, of—may I say the word?"

"Say it," he said, uncertain of his authority in this respect.

' 'Of Good,'' she finished. ' "That both are required for either
to have meaning. G—G—"

"God," he said. "You may say it"

"God. God is the Incarnation of Good, and Satan is the
Incarnation of Evil, and the struggle between the two of you
is the essence of mortal existence. Your position is as important
as his."

"And I can authorize you to say those words I can say, that
no demon otherwise can say?"

"Yes, my Lord Satan. Your power over Your minions is
absolute. Your predecessor forbade those words, but Your law
governs now."

Parry shook his head disbelievingly. Then she embraced him
again, and kissed him again, and his young, strong body re-
sponded ardently, and he began to believe.

He had completed his progress from Good to Evil. He had
become the Lord of Evil.

HELL

"What now?" he asked Lilah, after a suitable orgy of cele-
bration over his sudden fortune.

"Now You must establish Your mastery over Hell."

"Isn't that automatic, now that I have the Office of the
Incarnation of Evil?"

She shook her head in negation. "You have dispatched Lu-
cifer; You have not proved You can fill his boots."

"Oh? What happens if I don't prove it?"

"You have a thirty-day grace period. If in that time You do
not demonstrate Your fitness for the Office, You will be dis-
patched to that fate Lucifer intended for You, and he will be
restored as Incarnation of Evil, unless some truly evil mortal
preempts the Office first."

Parry was abruptly serious. "You knew this—yet you sup-
ported me?"

' 'A demoness can be a fool; that is one of her few similarities
to mortal souls. When I came to love You, I could do no other.
Thus I did not warn Lord Lucifer of his danger."

"His danger?"

"He could not banish You to Hell without first separating
You from the soul with which You are bound. I would or-

163

164 Piers Anthony

dinarily have reminded him of that, just as I will remind You
of those things You need to know but may on occasion forget."

"The soul with which—" Parry repeated blankly. Then it
came to him. "Jolie!"

"In the drop of blood on your wrist," she agreed.

"But she went to Heaven long ago, didn't she? Once you
made it impossible for her to be with me?"

"No, my Lord. She merely retreated into her drop and
slept. She cannot leave You until her onus is abated—and
because she is in balance, she cannot be relegated to either
Hell or—"

"Say it. Say any word you need, while you serve me."

"Heaven. She must remain with You, until her balance is
changed. She is with You now, though she cannot manifest."

"She is not suffering?" he asked anxiously.

"No, my Lord. She knows nothing now, and will not until
she wakes again, which may be only when You retire."

Parry was relieved. "And her invisible presence caused Lu-
cifer's spell to bounce?"

"Your spell did that, my Lord. But Lucifer knew of Your
spell, and was contemptuous of its feeble power against the
magnitude of his magic. But no amount of magic could send
Your wife to Hell with You, so your spell assumed far more
force than Lucifer reckoned."

"Like an iron bar hidden in a loaf of bread," he agreed.

"Yes, my Lord. Had I warned him, he would have severed
Your hand first, thrown it away, then banished You with his
magic."

"But she was with me in Hell when we visited. How—?"

"That was not the same. You may go to Hell of Your own
volition, and she may travel with You, because that is not
damnation. But she cannot be damned eternally. Lucifer in-
advertently tried to do that."

And Lilah had known. "So I owe my salvation—" He
paused, reconsidering. "My present situation to Jolie—and to
you. What an unlikely collaboration!"

"True, my Lord. But also to Your own effort, which enraged
Lucifer and caused him to be careless in his arrogance. He
was past his time, I think."

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         165

"Because he treated you with contempt," Parry said.

"You might put it that way."

"Lilah, suddenly I want to know more about you."

"Ask, my Lord, and I will answer, as I always have." She
smiled and embraced him.

"Exactly who are you? I mean, I know you're a demoness,
but what is your history? What is the nature of your association
with the Incarnation of Evil?"

She grimaced. "That would be long in the telling, my Lord."

"Are you refusing to answer?"

"By no means, my Lord! But if I told You my complete
history, I would be talking for the full month, and You would
get none of Your necessary work done."

"Let me put it this way: your defection from Lucifer led to
his undoing. I want to understand you well enough to know
what would cause your defection from me."

"That much is simple. I will serve You loyally as long as
I exist. You have the power to destroy any demon, me included,
and to create any demon from ether. If You destroy me, I will
not be able to serve You. If You do not destroy me, but treat
me with contempt, in time my love may go elsewhere, and
then I will serve You less loyally. But I will never truly betray
You."

As she had not truly betrayed Lucifer, he realized. She had
merely failed to serve him completely. The distinction was
worth noting. "Lucifer treated you with contempt?"

"Yes, lately. He took concubines from among the damned
souls, and even from among living witches, neglecting me.
He assigned me to corrupt a mortal, and did not reward me
for my success. He even threatened to confine me to eternal
punishment in Hell, and finally with destruction."

Parry nodded. "I was that mortal?"

"Yes."

"So you came to love me when I rescued you from the
punishment he inflicted on you."

"Yes. But it was more than that. I do not desert my Lord
lightly. He cast me off—and You showed me You were wor-
thy. Now You are my Lord, and I will not desert You unless
You treat me as Lucifer did."

166                Piers Anthony

"That I can understand and accept. Even in your alienation,
you did not oppose Lucifer; you merely failed to volunteer

more than he asked."
"He was my Lord."
"If I ever treat you as he did, I will expect the same from

you."

"It would be easier for us both, my Lord, if You simply

destroyed me and created a new demoness more to Your lik-
ing."

"Lilah, I have no intention of destroying you! But if it

became necessary for some other demon—just how would I

go about it?"

"That I cannot tell You, my Lord. It is a spell that only a

very few know, because of the danger of its use. There would
be chaos if any demon or soul could destroy any other."

"So Lucifer maintained his power because he could destroy
any other, but they could not destroy him?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"An excellent precaution against revolution or coup! I ap-
prove of it. But how can I use it if I don't know the spell?"
"You must learn the spell, my Lord. Lucifer did, and all

his predecessors."

"But it is not something that a person could guess, or come

upon by chance?"

"Never, my Lord. It must be taught by one who knows."

"Can you tell me who knows it?"
"God knows it, and Gaea, and Lucifer. Perhaps others have

known it, but I have no notion who they might be."

Parry considered.' 'God surely would not tell his archenemy!
Lucifer—he is now confined to the deepest flames of Hell?"

"Yes, my Lord."
"I rather doubt that he would tell me! Especially since he

stands to recover the Office if I wash out during my trial period.

That leaves Gaea."

"I believe Lucifer learned it from her," Lilah agreed.

"Then I will have to ask Gaea."

"I fear she will not give it to You, my Lord."

"Why not? If I'm an Incarnation, and she's an Incarnation,

shouldn't there be professional courtesy?"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         167

"The other Incarnations oppose You, my Lord. They labor
only to frustrate Your ambition."

"But if Lucifer—"

"I don't know how he got it from her. He did not allow me
to accompany him. I suspect he charmed it from her, when
she was relatively new in office. But now she is old in office,
and will not be deceived again."

Parry sighed. "Well, I'll just have to see if I can get along
without, then. But first, tell me your history; I do want to
know, to set me context for our association. Just make a simple
summary that covers what you know will interest me."

"Gladly, my Lord. I am the original demoness, first called
Lilith, and sent to be the wife of the first mortal man, Adam.''

"You are that one?" Parry asked, amazed. "How old are
you?"

"As old as man, my Lord. God created Adam, but forgot
to create a woman, so Samael fashioned me from ether to be
Adam's companion in Eden."

"Who?"

"Samael. The first Prince of Demons, also known as the
Angel of Death."

"But what of Lucifer?"

"The Incarnations of this office have assumed different names,
each choosing the one he prefers, as You have also, my Lord.
All are die same in significance."

"I—mat was why you made me choose? Because each has
to have a different title?"

"Once he proves himself in office. Any name will do. But
it is best to take a familiar one, the way Your Popes do, so
that others understand Your nature."

"I shall keep the one you prompted me to take," Parry said,
realizing that it was her desire to see him succeed in his trial
period and become permanent that had prompted her to make
him choose all his primary attributes—form, title, consort—
at the outset. "So you were Adam's first wife?"

"I was, and a good one, too. There was no human blood
in me, but I was as soft and sweet as any mortal could be, and
considerably more durable. I taught him everything he knew
about the joys of copulation."







168                Piers Anthony

"I'm sure you did. But didn't God object?"
She laughed. "God was not as prudish then as he is now! It
varies with the Officeholder. He let it be; after all, it did keep
Adam occupied and out of mischief. But then I spoiled it."

"You spoiled it?"
She frowned reminiscently. "Adam—well, he had some erode

edges. He got this idea that he was superior, just because he was
male. Naturally I couldn't go along with that! He might have
claimed superiority because he was mortal, but not because he
was male. So I told him to cut out that chauvinism or I'd cut out
the pleasure. Stubborn fool, he wouldn't give over, so I gave
him a taste of no sex. That drove him wild! But would You
believe it, he complained to God that I was uncooperative, and

God banned me from Eden?''

"How could God ban a creature Samael had made?"
"It was God's garden. He couldn't legitimately destroy me,
but he could exclude me from his property. I didn't like it,
and my Master was not at all pleased, but there was nothing
we could do. So I left, and God ripped a rib out of Adam's
side and fashioned that bone into a golem-giri he called Eve,
and you bet she had no feminist notions! But I got back at

them."

"Oh, no—not the serpent!"

She smiled. "Hell hath no fury like that of a demoness
scorned; You know that. Parry—I mean, my Lord. I was new
then, and had some rough edges of my own. Samael sent me
to corrupt Eve—that was my first negative assignment—so I
assumed the form of a serpent and tempted that foolish girl to
eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.
You see, they had not realized that all this nakedness and
fornication was sinful. Suddenly they knew, and it changed
their lives, and God then threw them out of me Garden. Thus

we had our revenge."

"You had your revenge," Parry agreed, amazed. "You are

really that same creature?"

"I am, and I have served every Master of Evil since. Some

I married, some I only accommodated. Each tired of me after
a few centuries, and lost my guidance, and subsequently blun-

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         169

dered and lost his position, as You will too, my Lord, inev-
itably, for it is me masculine nature to be fickle. But meanwhile
we shall have an interesting time."

"How is it that you have never assumed the Office of me
Incarnation of Evil yourself? Surely you have been in a position
to!"

"You forget, my Lord: I am a demoness. I have no soul.
Only a living mortal can assume the Office."

"But I am dead!"

"No, my Lord. You are alive. You assumed the Office in
Your last moment of life, and became immortal and ageless.
Only when You retire can You die—and Your successor may
not allow You to die, any more than You have allowed Lucifer
to die."

"I haven't?"

"No. You let him be confined in the manner of a damned
soul, but he cannot die until You allow him to. That choice
will be Yours after You take permanent possession of the
Office."

"What of the prior Incarnations of Evil? Did they die?"

"Oh, yes, in time. It is safer to let them die, so that none
can resume the Office. They now serve in various important
capacities, for their expertise in the ways of Hell is matchless.''

"But don't they foment trouble for the current Officeholder?
It must be quite a comedown to be a damned soul, after being
the Incarnation."

"That may be, but they are tough creatures. You can trust
diem, for their ambition is forever stultified."

Parry had an inspiration. "Those prior Officeholders! They
must know the demon-destruction spell!"

She smiled. "They know it, certainly, my Lord. But they
will not tell You."

"What, not one of them?"

"None I can think of. They are immune to blandishments.
They will serve You from pride, but will not help You gain
power. That You must do for Yourself."

Parry sighed. "I don't suppose you could charm it from one
of them?"




170 Piers Awtbwy FOR LOVE OF EVIL 171

"You forget, my Lord: I have been used for centuries by
each of them. I have no mysteries remaining, no allure for
mem."

Parry gazed at her, not entirely pleased at this reminder. He
was me latest in a virtually eternal line of lovers. No wonder
Lilah was skilled in mis respect!

"Well, let's get on to Hell," he said somewhat gruffly.

She took his arm, conscious of his jealousy. "Do not for-
get, my Lord: I am made of ether. I have no existence other
than mis. I was crafted to serve man, beginning with me first,
and mat I do as well as I am able. I now give to You that
same loyalty I gave to each holder of the Office. You cannot
fault me for that, only for inadequate performance in my
role."

Parry relaxed. It was true; he had no business getting jealous
of her prior lovers. She was no woman, but a demoness.

Lilah opened the porthole in the air, and they passed through
it to the entrance to Hell. But mis time they took the scenic
route, coming down at the outer boundary of Hell.

The tunnel debouched into an ugly forest whose twisted trees
seemed about to clutch at any travelers, and these flinched as
me path skirted the trees.

"The newly damned souls?" Parry asked.

"Yes, my Lord. At death they descend, their velocity de-
termined by the weight of evil on then" souls, and land in this
forest. See, some have problems already." She gestured.

He looked, and spied several figures struggling in high
branches. They had snagged in their descent, and were trying
to work free.

Parry and Lilah joined the procession following the path.
None of the others took notice. The damned souls looked
exactly like living folk, complete with clothing, but were sin-
gularly somber.

The path broadened into a road, accommodating the unhappy
travelers. Ahead was a mighty gate, with a giant arch over it.
As Parry approached it, he read the words ABANDON HOPE,

ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE!

He nodded. The arrivals were evidently of many national-

ities, and most were surely illiterate, but it was evident that
each understood that dread warning. All those who entered
here were damned.

He passed on under the arch. The road brought them to the
dismal bank of a broad, brooding river.' "This is the Acheron,"
Lilah said. "The River of Woe mat surrounds Hell. We shall
have to wait for Charon."

In due course the ferry came: a raft that nudged barely above
me surface of the water. The ferryman poled it along with fair
dispatch, men stepped onto me bank and held out his withered
hand for payment. His eyes glowed like coals. Each soul had
to give a small coin. Those who lacked coins were barred from
boarding.

"The coins are from the eyes placed on me deceased mortals,"
Lilah explained. "Unfortunately, not all who die are properly
buried."

"But what happens to them if they can't enter Hell?" Parry
asked.

"They must wait until the need to cross becomes too great
to resist, as their bodies rot in the ground. Then they must
cross as they can, by wading or swimming."

Parry looked at the river. Now he smelled it: the miasma of
the nethermost of sewers. There were suggestive ripples, as of
great beasts that swam in the murk, waiting for prey. Indeed,
he heard a scream, and saw a woman flail and splash, as if
being drawn under.

' 'But they can't drown,'' he said.' "They are already dead!''

"They can't drown, but they can suffer all the agony of
drowning, without limit," she explained.

Parry considered that as he watched the woman struggle and
slide under the surface. "Point taken. But I want that woman
rescued."

"You may direct Charon," she said dubiously.

"Charon!" he snapped. "Draw that woman from me water!"

The sinister ferryman looked at him, then looked away,
ignoring him.

Parry controlled his anger. "Am I or am I not the master
of this realm?" he asked Lilah.




172               PiwsAwthwiy                    \

"You are and You are not," she said. "That is, the title is
Yours, but You have to prove yourself before Your minions

will obey You."                                         |
"And to do that I need the spell to destroy demons," he

said.

"Yes, my Lord. That same spell cannot destroy souls, but

can banish them to restricted regions, which has much the

same effect."

"Let's just see what I can do without it," he said grimly.

He strode past the waiting souls and boarded the raft. Charon
lifted his ugly head to stare at him. "Charon, I am the new
Incarnation of Evil. If you value your position, you will obey
me with alacrity. Pick up that woman!"

Charon turned away, again ignoring him.

"Answer me, spook!" Parry snapped, grabbing at the man's
shoulder. But his hand passed right through the ferryman's

body.

So it was like that. Parry pondered briefly, then opened his

mouth and sang:

Ferryman, hark unto me!
I am the Incarnation of Evil.
Answer to me: you have no choice.
Fetch out that woman;

Ferryman, fetch out that woman!

The power of the song reached out and took hold of Charon
as Parry's hand could not. Just as his song had stunned the
demons of the fire chamber, it stunned Charon. There had
always been magic in Parry's music, and it had power here,

too.

Slowly Charon turned. He took his pole and used it to shove

the filling raft away from shore. They floated across to where
the woman was marked by a thin stream of bubbles. Then
Charon reached a bony hand down and caught at something
under the murky surface. The woman came up, choking; Charon
had hold of her wrist. He hauled her to the raft, where she lay
gasping. Then he poled it back to the shore to pick up the rest

of his cargo.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         173

There was a smattering of applause. Parry had made his
point. He had compelled the ferryman to obey.

"In the future, Charon, if any souls become so desperate as
to try to swim across, you will pick them up without fare,"
Parry said gruffly. "If you do not, I will remove you from this
position. Do you understand?"

Slowly the grim ferryman nodded. Now Parry turned away,
and saw a subdued smile of approval on Lilah's face. He knew
it was not because he had done a decent thing, but because he
had made his power felt.

They remained on the raft while Charon got it loaded. Parry
squatted beside the woman he had rescued. "What is your
name, woman?"

"Oh, sir, I am Gretchen. I thank you for paying my fare."

' 'I did not pay your fare. I merely directed that you be given
passage without fare."

She lifted her head to stare at him. "Sir, if I may ask—
who are you?"

"I am the Master of Hell."

Her eyes widened in shock. She collapsed in a faint. The
others aboard the raft retreated from him, and some fell into
the water.

Parry sighed. He would have to watch that! Naturally he
would now be a figure of terror for the damned souls.

"I am not here to punish you, only to inspect operations,"
he said to them all. "You are damned, but I shall not make
your fate worse."

They seemed only slightly reassured. He realized this was
because he was also now the Father of Lies. Probably they
feared that he was setting them up for worse punishment after
tempting them with false hope. But those who had fallen did
scramble back onto the raft.

He squatted again by Gretchen, and shook her shoulder.
"Wake, woman; I spoke figuratively. I am not here to do you
harm. What brought you here?"

She recovered enough to sit up. "My Lord, I lied, I cheated,
I stole. I knew it would damn my soul, but my family was
going hungry, and I had to get food somehow."
Parry remembered the poor villagers of his original village.







174 Piers Anthony

They had not been able to afford the luxury of integrity; the
feudal system had kept them too low.

"You others," he asked, looking around. "Is it similar with
you? You were poor, and had to cheat to survive?"

There was a murmur of assent.

Parry nodded. These were creatures of circumstance, damned
for lives over which they had had little control. It did not seem
right that they be relegated to Hell for eternity. But would he
be able to change that? He wasn't sure, and was not ready to
inquire.

They came to the inner shore. This was bleak and barren,
and crowded with people who merely stood without talking.
Nothing seemed to be happening.

"What is this?" Parry asked Lilah.

"This is Limbo, the first and outermost Circle of Hell," she
replied. "This is where the unbaptized souls remain, neither
punished nor rewarded."

"Unbaptized? Do you mean they are not Christians?"

"Many are not," she agreed. "Some have led illustrious
and blameless lives, but are damned in death because of their
lack of faith."

"But other faiths are valid!" he protested. "They have their
own facilities for the Afterlife!"

"So one would think," she agreed. "I suppose the records
have not been clarified."

"We shall have to see about mis. Who is in charge of the
records?"

"That would be Beelzebub, the Lord of the Flies, one of
Lucifer's predecessors."

That meant that she had been intimate with him. Parry stifled
that thought. "I shall have to talk with him, in due course."

"I think You should establish Your position first."

Surely good advice! But already he knew there would be
some changes made.

"Where is the three-headed dog? Isn't he supposed to guard
the Gates of Hell?"

"Cerberus? He is in the Third Circle, with the gluttonous."

"What's he doing there? That's not the Gates of Hell! And
since when is gluttony punished by eternal damnation? They

f OR LOVE OF EVIL         175

would have to fill that circle with Lords and Bishops and even
Popes!"

"They are there," she agreed.

Parry decided not to press the point. "Cerberus will have
to be moved. Who is in charge of the organization of Hell?"

"Asmodeus, the King of devils."

"Another former Incarnation of Evil?"

"Yes."

"Let's move on."

They passed through the Second Circle, where the carnal
sinners were. "Because they lusted, they are damned?" Parry
asked. "What man does not lust, on occasion?"

"Few men go to Heaven," Lilah said smugly.

' 'But if so many are damned for normal aspects of the human
condition, what of the truly evil ones? The murderers, the
rapists, the traitors?"

"hi the lower circles," she said. "The traitors are in the
Ninth Circle, the innermost one, and that is subdivided into
four, for the traitors to kindred, or to their country, or to friends,
or to their benefactors."

"These strike me as needless distinctions. Next thing we
know, there will be a region set aside for sorcerers!"

"In the Eighth Circle, along with the hypocrites, thieves,
barrators, and seducers."           ^

"Sorcerers are damned?" he demanded, outraged. "But it
is a legitimate profession!"

She shrugged. "I could not have corrupted You, had You
not been already on me path to corruption, and Your sorcery
was much of it."

"We need some revision of definitions! Great numbers of
these folk do not belong here!"

She did not answer, perhaps being wiser than he in this
respect. They passed on through the Third and Fourth and Fifth
Circles, seeing the gluttons, misers, and wrathful souls con-
fined there. In the Sixth they encountered the three winged
furies: hideous women with snaky hair. In the Seventh they
crossed the River of Blood, for this was where the violent were
confined, harried by the Hounds of Hell and harpies and cen-
taurs.

176                PiersAnthony

"But this is all confused," he protested. "The hounds should
be guardians, and the centaurs record keepers, because of their

intellectual capacities."
Now the sand on which they walked became burning hot.

A volcano rumbled, and spouted fire, and burning flakes rained
down on them. The incarcerated souls cried out in anguish—
and so did Parry as a fire flake singed him.
"They aren't supposed to affect You," Lilah said angrily.

"What mischief is this?"
"The mischief of some entity who doesn't want change,"

Parry muttered. "Naturally the governing demons want me to
fail—and until I find that spell, I can't do much about it."
"This is true," she said, furious. "Asmodeus is behind this,

I'm sure. He remains loyal to Lucifer."

"We'd better get out of here." Parry resumed his singing,
and now when the fire flakes came down, they passed through
his body without effect. He could do a lot with his voice, but
knew that it would not work against one of the ranking spirits.
He had seen enough, and learned enough, to know that further
exploration was pointless. Hell required an entire overhaul,
and he could not accomplish that until he learned the spell he
needed to control the demons and damned souls.

Lilah opened a tunnel, and they soon climbed up out of Hell.
It was now dark on the surface of the world, and Parry was
tired. It was not physical fatigue, but rather the rush of ex-
perience. "Let's go to some comfortable retreat and relax for
the night," he told her. He knew better than to return to his
old chamber in the monastery; they would be cleaning that out,

considering him to be dead.

Lilah drew a circle on the trunk of a large oak tree, and
opened a door there. Inside was a pleasant nook, with pillows.
She drew him in and closed the door. He embraced her and
fell asleep. Theoretically he no longer needed sleep, but he
realized that there were psychological needs as well as physical
ones, and his change of circumstance did not change that.

In the morning, emotionally restored, he decided to tackle
me problem at the top. "I have vanquished Lucifer; I should
be able to back off the souls he vanquished," he said.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         177

"My Lord, You are as yet innocent in the ways of evil,"
she cautioned him. "It takes time to get fully into it. They
have had many centuries. Do not face them without possession
of that spell."

"But I can sing to them if I have to," he reminded her.
"That conquered you and Charon."

"I am a demoness. He is—" She paused.

"Not a demon?" he prompted.

"Not exactly. But it occurred to me that his mother, Nox,
who is an old acquaintance of mine, might know something."

"Nox?"

"Night. She is the oldest of me deities of our pantheon, the
daughter of Chaos. She goes back before I do, which is pretty
far. She married her brother Erebus, who is the Incarnation of
the Darkness Between Earth and Hades, that region now par-
celed out between Limbo and Purgatory. In addition to Charon
they generated the Incarnations of Air, Day, Pate, Death, Ret-
ributions, Dreams and others I misremember at the moment.
She—"

"The mother of the Incarnations?" he asked, amazed. "But
how, then, can they be offices?"

"Anything becomes boring after a time, unless constantly
refreshed. I would be in a bad way if the Incarnation of Evil
did not change periodically, bringing me new interest and chal-
lenge. The early Incarnations lost interest, so one by one they
vacated, allowing mortals to step in and assume their positions
as offices. I believe Nox is the only original Incarnation to
retain her position, perhaps because of the everlasting fasci-
nation of the things she hides. If any immortal knows the secret
of that spell, she might."

Parry kept his hope restrained. "Nox is an original immortal
Incarnation, not a damned soul, but she might have learned
it?"

"That's what I think. If the secret were ever uttered under
cover of night, she would know it."
"Well, let's go see her, then!"

"Not so fast, my Lord! I am not certain she would tell You
if she did know, or what payment she would demand for it."
"Payment?"




278

"The Kingdom of Evil does not flourish on altruism."
Parry nodded.' 'What payment do you think she might ask?''
"I must answer, my Lord, but I do not wish to. She is the
one female who knows more of the ways of passion than I do.
She is ageless, renewed at every turn of the world. If she found

You appealing—"

Oh. "Let's leave her as a last resort. If I stand to wash out,
and you prefer to risk Nox rather man let me go, men we can

go to her."

"You are more generous to me than Lucifer was," she said.

"Lucifer had a turn with Nox?"
"Anyone has a turn with Nox, if she desires it."
"I will stay away from her. But I must tackle the problem
of Hell regardless." Parry got up, pushed open the porthole

door, and climbed out of the tree.
It was day outside, and this turned out to be a park. A little

boy gaped, then ran back to tell bis mommy.
Lilah smiled, emerging and closing the panel. "She will

never believe him." They moved on.

They bypassed the several Circles of Hell and went directly
to me executive office. This was in a pavilion made of ice, set
on a frozen lake in the deepest cavern of Hell. There was a
huge throne on the ice which was empty: Lucifer's vacated
headquarters. Parry had visited him in a different, warmer hall,
evidently one reserved for minor audiences. Asmodeus' office

was to me right of this.

Obviously Parry's entry had been anticipated, because the
office was clear except for Asmodeus. He had wings and horns
and a barbed tail: his semblance for mis duty.

"You know who I am," Parry said. "You knew it was me

when you directed the rain of fire."

"I know thou art a pretender to the throne of one whose
spittle thou art not wormy to wipe off thy face," Asmodeus
said evenly. "Come here at last to me Circle of Traitors,

fittingly enough."

"I vanquished Lucifer!" Parry retorted. "Now his office is

mine, and you are bound to serve me."

"Thou hast taken advantage of freak luck during Lucifer's

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         179

carelessness. Now we have to put up with thy posturing for a
month until thou receivest thy just desserts. Begone, impostor,
before I chastize thee!"

"This is mutiny!" Parry exclaimed. "You know the penalty
for that!"

"Get thee out of my sight, impostor—and that whore who
aids thee!" Asmodeus gestured—and a cloud of energy sur-
rounded Parry and Lilah. They were swept up and carried away.

In a moment the cloud dissipated. Parry found himself in a
gloomy forest. "I was afraid of this," Lilah muttered. "This
is the Seventh Circle."

"But that was where the River of Blood was, and the rain
of fire."

"First and third rings of it. This is the second ring, which
we bypassed before. This is the Wood of the Suicides."

Parry paused. "What's so bad about this?"

"Those," she said, pointing.

From a distance charged a pack of vicious-looking dogs,
slaver dripping from their maws as they bayed. "The Hounds
of Hell," he said, understanding. "But we can escape them
readily enough by climbing one of these trees."

"And those," she said, pointing up.

He looked, and saw a bevy of foul creatures perched on high
limbs. They had the bodies and wings of gross birds, but the
heads and breasts of old women. "Harpies," he said, under-
standing. "We are caught between the two horrors."

"As are the suicides, perpetually torn apart no matter where
they try to hide," she said.

"So Asmodeus sent us here, implying that we committed
suicide by broaching him."

"Or as an experiment. If you cannot escape this, then you
pose no threat to him."

Parry realized that it was a fair test. Asmodeus' magic should
not be able to overcome the Master of Hell. Only Parry's
unfamiliarity with me ways of his office made him vulnerable.
"But both groups are demons. I can sing them into quies-
cence."

"I'm not sure—" she started.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         181

180                Piers Anthony

But Parry was already opening his mouth. He began to
sing—and immediately the harpies burst into raucous song of

their own, drowning him out.

The Hellhounds coursed on in, their baying no longer au-
dible. They could not hear his song, so were not pacified, and
the same was true for the harpies. What a neat trap!

They leaped for the trees. Lilah ordinarily could float or fly
when she chose, but evidently here in Hell she was confined
to mundane motion. Perhaps Asmodeus had restricted her, so

that she could no longer open a tunnel out.

The trees were easy to climb, having huge, gnarly low limbs.
But immediately the dirty birds fluttered down, screeching

continuously, extending their talons.

Parry found a small dead branch. He broke it off and wielded
it as a club, striking at the first harpy to come at him. But the
club passed through her body without resistance; she was a

phantom.
Then her claws clamped on his arm, and they were like steel.

He was no phantom to her\
It was the one-sided situation he had encountered before:

the creatures of Hell could strike at him, but he could not
retaliate against them. That must be standard in Hell, so mat
the damned souls could be continuously harried by all manner
of horrors without having any chance to resist or to strike back.
It hardly seemed fair—but Hell was hardly the place for fair-
ness!

He lilted his arm to shake her off, but she clung, colored

spittle spraying from her foul mouth as she screeched, her dugs
bouncing as she flapped her wings. Every drop of spittle that
touched him burned. He could not get free, and the next was

closing on him. Lilah seemed no better off.

Something clicked in Parry's mind. If he could not shake
her off, then she was anchored to him—by her claws. He could
not touch her directly, but he could affect her.

He lifted his arm, and her with it. Then, as the second
swooped in, he swung his arm violently at her.

The first harpy smashed into the second. Both squawked
and fell out of the air. Parry was free, for the moment.

But more were hovering close, and they had seen what had

happened. Now they swooped down, slashing rather than grab-
bing. Parry tried to dodge, but he almost fell out of the tree.
He had to hang on lest he drop into the mass of hounds that
leaped at the trunk immediately below him.

A talon slashed his hand. It was sword-sharp, and evidently
some of the poison spittle was on it because his hand flared
with pain. He was out of options.

Except—what about magic? He was after all a sorcerer. His
song had worked in Hell because of its magic; perhaps his
other magic would also be effective.

He crafted a hasty illusion about himself: a huge, glowering
bear. The bear swiped at the nearest harpy, growling villain-
ously. She spooked, flying clumsily back.

But in a moment they realized that it was unreal, and charged
in again. However, Parry had not wasted his brief reprieve; he
was busy Grafting other illusions. He made three imitation
harpies, who flapped down to buzz the hounds. He also made
a hound, who leaped up and caught one of the illusory harpies
in his teeth, biting through her wing, then chomping her neck
as she flopped realistically on the ground. In a moment her
gore was splattered all over; it was a most realistic illusion,
and he was rather proud of it.

The hovering harpies, seeing this, reacted with understand-
able fury. They forgot Parry and swooped down on the hounds,
clawing at them. Naturally they thought that the hounds had
turned on them, and so they struck back. That aroused the
hounds, and soon the battle between them was fairly raging.

Parry was forgotten. He joined Lilah in the tree, then crafted
a spell of undetectability for them both. His magic was working
perfectly, even if hers wasn't.

That made sense, in retrospect. She was a demoness, subject
to the power of the rulers of Hell; he was not even a damned
soul, but a living Incarnation. None of his powers had been
stripped from him. Asmodeus had done to him what he had
done to the harpies: deceived him with illusion. Now he had
penetrated it, and escaped the trap.

"Make an exit," he told Lilah as they walked away from
the carnage.
' 'But my power has been stripped, my Lord,'' she protested.




182

Piers Anthony

"Mine has not," he said gruffly. "I am the true Master of
Hell; you may do what I tell you. Your powers are restored.
Make an exit."

She circled with her hand, and the porthole manifested. She
drew it open, and they went through.

They were silent as they made their way to the surface, but
Parry was conscious of her glances. He had just taken a giant
step toward the realization of his powers as the Incarnation,
and she respected this.

But all he had done was escape the mischief of Asmodeus.
That was a far cry from assuming the true overlordship of Hell!
He had to have that spell—and how was he to get it?

"My Lord," Lilah said as they stood in daylight again. "I
have been foolish to let you suffer such mischief, when the
answer may be at hand. I will take you to Nox."

He nodded. That did seem best.

10

INCARNATIONS

Lilah, wary of the impending interview with Nox, insisted on
making love by day. Parry wasn't sure whether this was her
effort to deplete his interest in the Incarnation of Night, or
from concern that this might be the last time. He had no in-
tention of straying, but his curiosity was increasing.

Of course, he had had no intention of straying from Jolie,
either. He still loved the memory of Jolie, but she was gone,
and he was now too far corrupted by evil to be worthy of her,
so that was done. But if he ever found a way to free her from
the drop of blood and allow her to proceed to Heaven, he

would do it gladly. Certainly he would not let her be confined
to Hell!

Nox lived in Purgatory, where it seemed most of the Incar-
nations resided. In fact. Parry himself had a residence there, a
palatial structure served by unassigned servants: those who were
in such balance at death that they had gone neither to Heaven
nor to Hell. The surprise with which his arrival was greeted
showed that the Incarnation of Evil had seldom stopped by.
Indeed, he did not stay long; he moved on to the realm of Nox.

This turned out to be a region of everlasting night. Not a
dark cloud, for there was no smoke or fog; a section in which

183




184                Piers Anthony

the light faded and the stars shone down, no matter what the |
time of day. The residence was like a ghostly nebula, a segment |
of the great Milky Way, glowing yet indeterminate.          |

Lilah guided him on in with confidence. Inside, they seemed {
to be floating through the heavens, becoming ghosts them-
selves.

«A greeting» It was neither voice nor thought, but rather

like a memory from a dream.

"Nox, I embrace you," Lilah said, spreading her arms.

Indeed, she seemed to be in contact with something, but Parry

could not tell what.

«What is thy business, mine ancient sister?»

Parry started. Sister?
"This is Parry, who just assumed the Office of Evil," Lilah

explained. "He does not yet understand."

The darkness intensified, becoming opaque. Now the form
of a lovely woman in a cloak stood before him. Her eyes were
stars, twinkling as they gazed on him. «You feel for him, Lil?»

"I do. He comes to ask a favor."

The woman-shape opened her cloak and moved into him.
Parry found himself embraced by something at once too diffuse
and subtle to comprehend, and unutterably feminine. Some-
thing like a kiss caressed his mouth, and something like breasts
touched his chest, and things very like seductive legs came up
against his as though he wore no clothing. The femaleness of
her overwhelmed him, making him react, inciting his desire;

suddenly there was no other thing he wanted to do, now or
ever, except embrace her as intimately as was inhumanly pos-
sible. His mission here had no meaning; there was only Nox,
the Goddess of Night. He had never known a woman like her,
neither mortal nor immortal; she was all he could ever dream

of, the ultimate fulfillment.

Then she withdrew, leaving him longing, desperate with

desire for her. He wanted to cry out to her, and could not; he
wanted to reach out for her, and could not. She was ineffable,
a thing that came only at her own behest, never his, and in-
finitely desirable because of it.

«I leave him to you, my sister» Nox sent. «He is special»
"I thank you, my sister," Lilah said, visibly relieved.

FOR LOVE OF EVJL         185

Slowly Parry relaxed, as the sensation of the presence left
him. He became conscious of his mission.

"We speak figurativejy," Lilah said to him. "She is the
oldest Incarnation; I am the oldest female creature. But she is
a goddess, and I only a demoness. We are sisters in age and
sex, not substance."

Parry only nodded, not yet ready to speak. A goddess! No
wonder he had been overwhelmed!

"He needs the spell to banish demons," Lilah said.

«Surely he does ... I do not have it.»

Disappointment. Parry could not be certain whether his an-
guish was because she could not help him, or because he would
now have to leave her presence.

«Perhaps Chronos.»

' 'We thank you, Nox,'' Lilah said.' 'We shall ask him first.''

«Last.»

Lilah smiled. "Of course. That's what I meant."

They moved out of the darkness, departing the intoxicating
presence. "She let you go!" Lilah breathed, as if amazed.

Parry didn't want to say that he would have preferred to
have been kept by the goddess. But Lilah knew it. "She has
that effect on men," she said. "It will wear off, in time. You
can now appreciate why I was worded."

"The allure of the night," Parry said, speaking at last.

"All me things your kind longs for in me secrecy of darkness,"
she agreed. "No mortal or demon woman can match that."

He could only sigh acquiescence. It would be a long time
before he forgot that sensation!

"Now we have to ask the Incarnations, who will laugh."

"Why ask them at all, then? If Chronos is the one—"

"Because we must tell him he is our last resort. If you
succeed in holding the Office, your friendship with him should
count for something. Chronos is not like the others."

"I don't understand."
"Chronos lives backwards."
"I don't see how—"

"Come on," she said impatiently. "We might as well tackle
Thanatos first."
' 'Thanatos—Death!'' he exclaimed.' 'I met him, long ago!''




186

Piers Anthony

"Not since I have known you."

"It was when Jolie died, over forty years ago. She was in
balance, because of the evil associated with her manner of
dying, though she had lived a righteous life. I must ask him

about that."

"Ask," she agreed.

He saw that they were at Death's Mansion. He knocked at
the imposing door, and a sepulchral gong sounded within. In

a moment a servant opened it.

"I am the Incarnation of Evil, come to seek information of

the Incarnation of Death," Parry said.

The servant closed the door in his face.

Parry stood there, outraged. "Since when does one Incar-
nation refuse even to talk to another?" he demanded rhetori-
cally.

"Since the other Incarnation is Evil," Lilah answered with

a wry smile.

"He wasn't this way forty years ago!"

"You were not Evil forty years ago."

Parry grimaced. "Still, the least he could do is talk to me.
I am simply trying to find a way to do my job."

"All the others side with God."

Disgruntled, Parry departed. "I will not forget this snub,"

he muttered.

They followed a twisted path that led shortly to the abode

of Fate. It resembled a giant spider web. "Pate assumes the
form of a spider, and slides her threads to her destination,"

Lilah explained.

But Fate, too, refused even to meet him. Parry's mood

darkened further.

They approached the Castle of War. This time the Incar-
nation himself came out to meet him. He was a crusader.
"Begone, foul fiend!" War cried, brandishing his great red
sword. "Ere I cut off thy hideous head!"

"I only want to ask—"
Parry had to duck, for already the sword was swishing at

his neck. So much for talk!

"These idiots are really asking for it!" he said as they

departed. "I have come in peace, but—"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         187

"What do you expect, from the Incarnation of War?" Lilah
asked.

At that he had to smile. "Still, it ill behooves such powerful
entities to operate with their minds closed," he said. "Even
countries at war negotiate on occasion with their enemies.
Otherwise there is chaos."

"Crusaders have never been known for their common sense."
At that he had to laugh. "True words, demoness!"
Now they approached the treelike residence of Nature, per-
haps the strongest of the regular Incarnations.

•There was no door, just a thicket of brambles. He tried to
make his way through it, but the prickles and thorns and nettles
seemed to orient eagerly on his flesh. He might be immortal
now; indeed, he had forgotten to eat since his ascension, with-
out suffering any hunger or loss of vigor. But he felt exactly
as he had in life, and the pain was just as uncomfortable. He
surely could plow through this barrier, and the only harm done
would be the immediate pain—but to what point? There had
to be a legitimate entrance.

"It is her way," Lilah murmured. "The secrets of Nature
are not readily discovered, but they are generally worth-
while."

* 'I shall play it her way, this time,'' Parry said. But privately
he expected little; this was merely a gesture of amity, his
straightforward effort to make contact with the other Incar-
nations. So far they had not even done him the courtesy of
listening to his plea. In short, they were keeping him at arm's
length, evidently hoping he would wash out.

They walked around the brambly region, seeking a path
through. They came to a filthy sty where a huge sow wallowed.
Beyond it the brambles grew up even worse, becoming truly
impenetrable. This was a dead end.

The pig raised her snout. "Looking for something?" she
inquired.

Gaea's sense of humor, evidently. But he replied with a
straight face. "I am looking for an entrance to Gaea's estate,
so that I may talk with her."

"Kiss my snout," the pig said.

Only his determination to maintain control of his temper

188                Piers Anthony

kept Parry from showing his anger at being addressed in such

manner by a pig. He turned away.

"And I will show you the way in," the pig concluded.
He glanced at Lilah, and caught a fleeting smirk on her face.

Of course he was not going to kiss a pig!
But if that was what Gaea believed . . . why not call her

bluff.
Parry set himself, then leaned over the rail. The sow raised

her head. Her nose was smeared with mud and garbage from
her last meal. He stifled his rising gorge and kissed her snout.
"That way," the pig said, indicating a huge hole she had
dug under the fence at the far side of the sty. It was so deep

that its recesses were lost in darkness.

Parry climbed over the fence, slogged through the muck and
got down on his hands and knees. He crawled into the hole.
Lilah shrugged and followed. She had surely experienced worse
than a little muck in the course of her centuries of service to

the Incarnations of Evil.
The hole descended, but was not totally dark. He could see

the circular cross section of it, and the route ahead. Tree roots
braced the top and sides; fish heads and wilted carrot tops lay
at the bottom. He had no clearance, so plowed through it all.

The smell was intense.

The garbage at the bottom thickened. Now it was a virtual
pool, containing oyster shells, moldy bread crusts, cheese rinds,
spoiled wine, chicken legs and rotten tubers. "You mortals
are messy folk," Lilah muttered behind him.

On it went, getting worse. The liquid appeared to have
become urine, and feces floated in it. Lumps of brownish
substance hobbled, perhaps blood clots. Sections seemed mostly
like vomit. His hand, questing for a firm bottom, found some-
thing solid but loose. He brought it up—and it was a severed

human foot.

But he plowed on, determined not to be defeated by Gaea's

evident discouragements. Just about the time the sewer threat-
ened to fill the passage, it debouched into a nether river, and
he was able to stand in a gloomy cavern. They had made it

through.

Both of them were sopping and stinking; their clothing dripped.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         189

Parry knew he could clean himself magically, but was too
ornery to do it yet; he wanted to be sure he had completed the
wretched course first.

A path showed the way on. They followed it—until it halted
in a cul-de-sac. A blind cave.

No, this cave was artificial. There were ridges in the stone
showing where the rock had been hewn away. It should not
have been carved, unless there was a continuation.

"Very well." Parry said loudly. "What next?"

"I have seen this sort of thing before," Lilah said. "It
probably requires a spell to open the rest."

Parry tried a spell, but knew immediately that it wasn't work-
ing; his magic was being damped out. It was evident that each
Incarnation was supreme in his or her own bailiwick; others could
not use magic without the proprietor's consent.

"Maybe if you just asked," Lilah said.

"I am me Incarnation of Evil," he said. "I ask to proceed
on through this passage, so that I may talk to the Incarnation
of Nature."

There was no response.

"Gaea is evidently trying to humiliate you," Lilah said.
"Maybe she requires an obsequious request."

Parry gritted his teeth. "This is the Incarnation of Evil. I
ask to be admitted to Gaea's presence."

Still no response.

"I beg to be admitted," Parry said.

Silence.

His jaw clenched. "I am the Lord of Feces, the lowest of
the low, humbly begging the indulgence of my betters," he
said.

The stone slid aside. Gaea was satisfied.

But not quite. "No person may be admitted to the presence
without a search for weapons or hostile substances," a voice
said from a curtained alcove.

"A body search?" Parry asked, outraged. Then he realized
that Gaea was getting to him. He had come this far; he might
as well do the rest.

He entered the curtained alcove. It was completely dark
within. Hands touched him, catching at his clothing, removing

190                Piers Anthony

it. Parry submitted to this, knowing that weapons could most

readily be concealed in clothing.
Then the hands slid down his body, checking every part of

it. Then—

He jumped. "What—?"
"A weapon may be concealed in a body cavity," the voice

said. "Bend over."

Quivering with rage at this demand, Parry bent over. A rough

finger poked into him, questing for the weapon Gaea had to

know wasn't there.

Abruptly there was light. For a moment it blinded him. Then

he heard laughter.

He gazed around, blinking. He was in a glass compartment.

Outside it were standing the other Incarnations: Death, Pate,
War and Nature. All were staring at him with broad smiles.

He was naked, bent over, with that crudely exploring hand
still violating his body. He looked back—and saw that it was
an ape. He had been demeaned by an animal, in full view of
the Incarnations. What a joke they had had, at his expense!

Still he controlled his rage. Now was not the occasion to
make a scene that would only make the joke richer.

He straightened and stepped away from the ape with what
dignity he could muster. "Now will you talk to me, Gaea?"

"No," she replied. The light ceased, and he was left as he

was.

Lilah came to him. "I was afraid of something like this,"

she murmured. "All the Incarnations of Evil learned early not

to try to cooperate with the others."

"Let's just make our way out of here," he said with sur-
prising calmness. He led the way back through the gruesome

tunnel.

The Incarnations had had their fun with him, instead of

meeting him honorably. This was their day. But they would
pay for it. Oh, yes, they would pay!

It was another two days before he went to tackle Chronos.
Lilah took him to her nest in the tree, because he wanted
nothing to do with Purgatory now. He had come to understand

191

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

all too well why Lucifer had ignored the Mansion of Evil there.
He was better off in Hell, where he belonged.

Except that he had not yet proven his ability to control it.
The Incarnations, actually, had not treated him worse than
Asmodeus had. They were all against him.

"Except me," Lilah said, divining his thoughts. "I am
absolutely loyal to You, my Lord, and will always be, until

You cast me off."

"I will never cast you off," he said, embracing her. De-
moness she might be, but she seemed better than the mortal

Incarnations now.

"Oh, You will, my Lord, eventually. It always happens.

But it can be close while it lasts."

"It will last for centuries!" he said passionately.
"It can—if it lasts out the month," she agreed.
Sound point. He made love to her, seeking that intimacy no
mortal woman could give him anymore, and tried to allay his
own doubt about his chances of success.

Chronos' mansion was less pretentious than some, but it had
its weird aspect, Lilah warned him. "It goes backwards, as
does his life," she explained. "You will emerge from it before
you enter it. Never forget that, lest there be paradox."
"Before I enter it? That's impossible!"
"Believe it, my Lord! Make allowance, lest you interfere

with yourself."
"Lilah, I know this is not the normal mortal realm. But

nothing will make be believe that—"

He broke off, for there, emerging from the door of the
mansion, was himself, trailed by a duplicate demoness of stun-
ning proportions.

The other Parry waved, and so did the other Lilah. Stunned,

Parry waved back. Then the other two turned aside, and dis-
appeared down an alternate path.
"As you were saying ..." Lilah said, a trifle smugly.
"Illusion," he decided. But he did not take a step toward

the door.

"It is really not complicated," she assured him. "When
you share his backward travel, you come out earlier. When he




192               Piers Anthony

is outside his mansion, he has to reverse himself in order to
interact with others. He remembers what is in our future, and
has not yet experienced what is in our past. It must be hard
for him. On occasion, centuries ago, I—"

"You have been with him, too?" Parry asked, dismayed.

"My Lord, I have been with every man worth being with,
and quite a number otherwise. When my masters tired of me,
I would stray, for I have needs unlike those of real women. I
have never deceived You in this, or in anything. I am Yours
now, and for as long as You desire me."

"Sorry, Lilah. My mortal instincts keep getting the better
of me. But if you have—with this man—"

"Once with this one, not long ago. He was especially lonely,
and it seemed to be important to him, and my Lord Lucifer
was having his fling with—well, never mind. Once I came to
love you, I have been true to you, my Lord. In the past I have
been with a prior officeholder, this one's successor. With sev- _
eral successors, actually. Chronos is a lonely Incarnation; it is
almost impossible for him to have a meaningful relationship

with a normal woman."

"But if you have always served Evil—"

"Good and Evil are not invariable antagonists. They are
merely opposite poles of a spread of states. The one cannot
exist without the other. All Incarnations are the enemy of
Chaos, Nbx's sire, and when cooperation is required to prevent
Chaos's return, Incarnations cooperate. It is not to Your interest
to quarrel with Chronos; remember, he could change your past

life with barely an effort."

"I have not sought to quarrel with any of the Incarnations!"
he exclaimed. "But they have quarreled with me! Except for
Nox . . . and if she is the daughter of the true enemy, why
didn't she do something to me?"

"No one quite understands Nox," she said. "She is her
own creature. Perhaps she finds the current panoply more in-
teresting."

Parry squared his shoulders. "We had better get on with it.

I hope Chronos helps me."

"He was the only major earthly Incarnation not present at
Gaea's outrage," she said. "That could be because he failed

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         193

to get the news, being on other other side of events, but I
prefer to think it is because he respects You."

"He doesn't even know me!"

"You forget, he could have known you for decades hence."

Parry sighed. "I did forget. This may be tricky."

"Nox did say Chronos would help," she reminded him.

Nox. Parry found himself being swept back into his memory
of that experience. The stuff of dreams!

Lilah jogged him back to the present. "I know that look on
a man's face. Keep her out of Your mind, my Lord, or You
are lost before You begin."

Good advice! They went up to the door and knocked.

The Incarnation of Time himself opened it. He was a man
of about Parry's age, with portly figure and gray hair. His suit
appeared somewhat out of style, but not archaic; Parry realized
that it probably would come into style in a later decade. The
man lived backward; he had to keep that in mind!

Chronos took his hand. "You told me you would be calling,
Satan," he said warmly. "I am sorry only that our acquaintance
must end now."

"We—have had a long acquaintance?" Parry asked cau-
tiously, hardly daring to rely on the significance of such a
statement.

"Certainly!" Chronos agreed heartily. "You have always
been kind to me, Satan, and I am not unmindful of past favors.
You told me that you would have something important to ask
me at this point, and certainly I shall answer to the best of my
ability."

This was almost too easy! Parry hesitated to broach his
question, as yet uncertain of the implications. If Chronos had
known him long, then he must have survived the trial period
and become the regular Incarnation of Evil. Must have main-
tained the name Satan. Could he trust that?

"And Lilah, you darling creature!" Chronos said, stepping
up to embrace her warmly. She, too, seemed uncertain.

"Chronos, remember that this is new to us at the moment,"
Parry said. "We do not know what kind of relationship we
shall be having with you. I should advise you that the other
Incarnations—"

194

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         195

Piers Anthony

"Yes, that is awkward," Chronos said quickly. "I must not
say too much, of course. But I can tell you that you and Lilah
have always been true friends to me, for the entire thirty years
I have held this office, though of course never intimate in the
other sense." He glanced again at Lilah. "Not that I could not
have wished otherwise, no affront intended."

Lilah smiled. "Perhaps, in three or four years, if you are
in need, I will come to you one time.'' She glanced significantly
at Parry, and her prior remarks to him fell into place. She had
rewarded Chronos in the past for the favor Chronos was about
to do now for Parry. She had not known it at the time, but the
retrospective rationale seemed apt. Parry found he could not
quite manage to be jealous of it; it was after all a special

situation.

Even so, he could not stop himself from wondering which
particular time that she had been absent from him she had done
it. She had seemed wholly devoted to his corruption; why had
she gone visiting with Chronos?

"You will be welcome, Lilah," Chronos said. It was evident
that he understood her nature perfectly, and accepted it. "I
will let you know, if such need occurs." And there was the
answer; Chronos had asked for her, and she, knowing his
nature, had elected to cooperate rather than question it. Now
Parry was glad she had.

Chronos returned his attention to Parry. "But I would help
you regardless, my friend. What is it you require?"

"The secret of the spell to banish demons," Parry said.

Chronos pursed his lips. "That, I regret, I do not know.
Neither you nor any other creature has vouchsafed that infor-
mation to me."

The disappointment was keen. "Nox said you might—"
Parry shrugged. "I just assumed you knew."

"Nox." Chronos smiled reminiscently. "Now there is a
creature to conjure with, if I may be excused the notion. She
thought I knew it?"

"She said to ask you, and that you might help."

"Indeed I would help if I could." Chronos paced the floor.
"Almost, I think, once long ago, you made reference—I thought

it of no significance—to—to, let me think now. No, it was
something I read in a book left by my predecessor. Let me
see." He hurried from the room.

"A book from the future?" Parry asked, bemused.

Chronos returned, carrying an ornate volume. "The Col-
lected Edition of the Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley,''
he announced. "Eighteen-thirty-nine."

"What?" Parry thought he had misheard.

"An English poet, as I understand it. Before my time, of
course, and after yours. One of my predecessors may have
brought the volume to this house and forgotten it. So it remains,
becoming further anachronistic each year. There are some fas-
cinating references I don't pretend to comprehend! But my
point is, there is a note in the margin of one of the—ah, here
it is! The poem 'Death'—"

"Thanatos?" Parry asked, not liking this. His respect for
the Incarnation of Death had been rudely downgraded recently.

"No, I am in error. It is the sonnet 'Ozymandias.' See, here
is the note: 'He knows the secret.' I do not know what that
can mean, but perhaps it relates." He brought the open book
and showed it to Parry.

Parry stared at the page. "The calligraphy!" he exclaimed.
"How could the human hand be so precise? Every letter is the
same, and tiny!"

"And the pages!" Lilah added, as intrigued. "Tens, hundreds
of them, bound together by one side! What scribe managed
that?"

Chronos shook his head. "Evidently they had ways, in the
, nineteenth century. That is after all six hundred years from
here. Their magicians must have rare competence. It never
occurred to me to wonder about it, before."

The three of them gazed in wonder at the volume for a
moment more. Then Parry read the scrawled note, and the
poem to which it attached, piecing out the strange lettering in
English, not his best language. " 'My name is Ozymandias,
king of kings: / Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' "
He looked up. "But nothing beside remains, it says; only bare
sand."




196

Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OFEVIL 197

Lilah laughed. "All his works had been forgotten! So much
for his arrogance! I remember him, but did not realize that
anyone else did."

Both Chronos and Parry looked at her, surprised. "You
knew Ozymandias?" Parry asked.

"Of course. He was quite a figure in his heyday! I—I ex-
plained about that, my Lord."

She had been with even this long-forgotten historical king!
Parry was too amazed to be jealous, this time.

"Do you think he might know the secret you require?"
Chronos asked. "Surely there was reason to make that note."

"He just might," Lilah said. "He was no scholar himself,
but he had pride. He wanted to have the best in everything,
so he had a battery of scholars of every discipline, and the
finest sorcerers. If there was an important secret to divine, he
had the means to divine it."

"But if he died so long ago that all his works have perished
and been forgotten, we can hardly ask him," Parry said.

"Oh, there is no problem about that," she said brightly.
"He's in Hell now, of course."

Parry exchanged glances with Chronos. Ozymandias was

available!

Suddenly Parry was eager to be on his way. "I thank you,
Chronos!" he said. "You may have provided me with what I

need!"

"I certainly hope so, old friend." Chronos extended his
hand, and Parry took it warmly. He knew he would visit this
man again; already he liked the Incarnation of Time. Perhaps
the two of them were alike in their isolation, so found ca-
maraderie together while the other Incarnations ignored them.

They stepped outside. There were the prior Parry and Lilah
approaching. Parry waved, startling his other self. "He'll fig-
ure it out," he said, and turned down an alternate path.

Lilah knew where to look for Ozymandias: in the dread Ninth
Circle, reserved for traitors. "He gained his power by mur-
dering his kindred," she said. "He usurped the throne, then
went on to betray his benefactors, his friends and finally his
country, exploiting all its resources for his own aggrandize-

ment. He was an apt ruler, actually, because of his ruthlessness;

his empire was the most powerful of those that have been
forgotten. I think he angered Fate by his presumption, so she
arranged to have his legacy lost after he died. So now he suffers
the humiliation of being a nonentity, in addition to the tortures
of Hell. It will be nice to see him again."

Not too nice. Parry hoped. Her complete honesty was some-
what wearing at times.

They returned to the lowest level of Hell, which was frozen
over, an indication of its timelessness. Now Lilah peered at
the faces of the figures frozen under the ice. "Hello, Brutus,"
she said brightly.

"You knew Brutus—the Roman?" Parry asked, hardly
pleased.

"Of course. And Caesar, whom he betrayed. Caesar was
really something—every woman's man and every man's woman.
I had to change forms back and forth to keep him entertained.
I remember the time when I—"

"Never mind," Parry said harshly. Now he was getting a
notion where she had learned some of her more exotic sexual
techniques. "We're not looking for Caesar."

"And here's Judas," she said. "He was the disciple of Jesus
Christ, who—"

"Him, too?" Parry asked, appalled anew.

"Of course. Who do you think corrupted him? Beelzebub
was very pleased. He—"

"Enough! Just find Ozymandias!"

"Here he is," she said, stopping over the face of a perpet-
ually sneering man.

Parry peered down. "But he's frozen! How can I talk to
him?"

"I can thaw him," she said confidently. "But you may not
like the manner of it."

"I don't care about the manner! Just so long as he'll talk to
me."

"Remember, he is history's most arrogant man. You will
have to approach him appropriately."
"I'll sing him a song," Parry said shortly.
"That would do it," she agreed.




198

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         199

Piers Anthony

She walked across the ice, her outfit modifying as she moved.
It became an ornate dress, with supportive petticoats and a
tightly laced bodice. Sparkling earrings appeared, and a shining
tiara for her hair. She looked like a princess.

She came to stand directly above Ozymandias, her legs mod-
erately spread. Now Parry realized that the frozen man was
gazing up. He appreciated why she had said he would not like
this: she was standing so that the ancient King could see up

under her dress.

Then she began to dance. She remained in place, moving
her body suggestively but traveling no distance. Her hips swiv-
eled, her bosom bounced, her ankles flashed and her long hair
swirled about her body. Parry wished he could take her this
instant to the nest in the tree trunk.

Ozymandias had a better view. Now Parry saw the eyeballs
move, following the play of those legs. The ice had melted in

that region!

As the suggestive dance continued, the melting became more
evident. The King was heating up, forming a pool around him.
No wonder; the same thing was happening, to a lesser degree,
elsewhere in the frozen lake. Any man who could get a re-
fractive view of Lilah's dance was responding. It was a dance

that could not be denied.

As the ice melted, Lilah had to move to the side, lest she
sink in the slush. She did so, but continued to circle the sub-
merged King, lifting her petticoats so that he could still see

her legs.

Parry found himself standing in a puddle. His own heat was

doing it. What a dance!

Finally the King floated to the surface of the pool formed
around him. His head cleared the water.

Now Lilah desisted, her laced bosom heaving prettily. "0
King of the Ages," she said. "I have brought one to talk with

you."
The King replied in a foreign language, but Parry understood

him. Here in Hell, all language was common, no matter what
its origin. "After I enjoy thee, luscious handmaiden of my
youth!'' Ozymandias replied, scrambling out of the pool.

"Yours, my Lord," Lilah called to Parry, stepping back.
"Unless you prefer to wait?"

Parry had to laugh. If he waited, he would shortly have the
sight of the King having his will of the demoness. He could
hardly blame the King for trying, but he did not intend to
watch.

He took just a moment to organize his thoughts, then sang,
adapting his approach to appeal to the vanity of the King. He
was gambling that the arrogance of Ozymandias was greater
than his sexual drive, despite the superlative provocation Lilah
had provided. He formed impromptu verses, their meter and
rhyme falling into place in the language of the King, though
not in his own.

0 King Ozymandias, hark unto me!

I come as a supplicant to ask a favor of you.

You have a secret I need, that no other will provide.

Listen to me, 0 greatest of Kings!

Ozymandias paused in his pursuit of the demoness. The
flattery of old was registering. "Make it quick, supplicant, for
I have pressing business with the temptress of old."

Parry did not attempt to talk normally, knowing that that
would not hold the King's attention. Song was his strength and
his weapon; it was the only effective tool he had for this
occasion.

Great, King Ozymandias, hark unto me!

I have heard that your power was the greatest known.

That the mighty looked on your works, and

despaired.
Surely you alone of mortals can help me.

Great King, I know your power extended to
knowledge too;

That there was no thing you could not know

If it was your desire to know.

You were the Lord of all lands and all information!




200                Piers Anthony

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

201

Ozymandias turned his head to look directly at him, im-
pressed by his accuracy. "Out with it, supplicant!" he snapped.
"I have heard not the like of your voice since the Llano! Ask
your boon. Perhaps I will grant it."

Great King, I need to know the secret,
The secret of the spell to banish demons.
You alone of mortals—

He was interrupted by the King's laughter. "You ask too
much, supplicant! No one can help you there."

Parry realized that he would have to increase the offering.
Ozymandias evidently could help him, if he chose. But what
was there to give, except the praise he had already expended?
He wracked his mind for what would move the King, knowing
that his time was very short. Already the ice was reforming,
and if Lilah had to dance again to melt it—
Then Lilah was his elbow. "The sonnet," she said.
The sonnet? That had identified Ozymandias, but it would
not even be written for several hundred years. What good was
that?

"It is the only record of his greatness," she said.
Then he understood. That was, indeed, the final appeal.

Hark unto me, 0 King of the Ages!
Pate conspired against you in your decease
Wiping out the record of your greatness.
I can guarantee that your name will be immortalized
in poetry—

That recovered the King's attention. "My reputation re-
stored? Written in literature never to be extinguished?"

Now it was safe to talk naturally. "In a poem that will exist
at least through the nineteenth century, perhaps far longer,
telling of your memorial and your final words."

Ozymandias considered. "This may be illusion, but better
than naught. What power have ye to honor it?"

"I will be the Incarnation of Evil."

The King nodded. "That will do. Very well, I will share
with you the secret. But you will not find it easy."

The King himself was not finding it easy. Deprived ofLilah's
stimulation, he was sinking back into the thickening pool. "I
will do what I must to maintain my power. You understand
that sort of thing. Greatest of Kings."

"I do indeed!" Ozymandias was now waist deep. He glanced
around, to be sure that no one else was close enough to hear.
"The secret, 0 innocent supplicant, is that there is no secret.
No such spell exists; demons cannot be banished by mortals."

"But—"

"That is the truth!" Ozymandias said as his body slid down.
"Make of it what you will!" Now only his head was in the
air. "Look on my words, ye mighty, and despair!" He dis-
appeared beneath the surface. The last thing to go was his grim
grin. He was enjoying the humor of the situation.

Parry stared after him, stunned. He had no doubt that the
man had told the truth, and gained sinister pleasure from it.
But what a disaster that truth was!

Lilah approached. "He gave you the secret?" she asked.

"He did," Parry agreed ruefully.

"Now you can govern Hell!

"Now I can govern Hell," he agreed ironically. Now he
understood why the prior masters of Hell never revealed the
secret: it would have destroyed their power. Their power had
been based on illusion.

Yet it had worked. They had governed!

If they had done it, so could he! All it required was bluff
and deceit. If he could pull that off, in the manner they had,
he would survive.

He marched across the ice, toward the office of Asmodeus.
Lilah, excited, accompanied him. "Are you going to destroy
him, my Lord?"

"That depends," Parry said grimly.

Asmodeus was there. "So thou didst get free, impostor!"
he said. "And thou hast the temerity to return here! Well, this
time I shall banish thee to a less comfortable region!"

"You do that, fishface," Parry said. "You have no power




202

Piers Anthony

over Me." He used the self-capitalization consciously, know-
ing that it was expected of the true Master of Hell.

Asmodeus snapped his fingers. Magic crackled—but Parry
was unmoved. "I am the Incarnation of Evil," he said. "You
are a subordinate. You cannot banish Me, because I now have
the secret. Accept My authority, or I shall demonstrate it on
you. I am to be titled Satan, Lord of all these demesnes."

Asmodeus considered. He knew that Parry had interviewed
Ozymandias, and that this was a legitimate source. The den-
izens of Hell would accept its validity. It was evident that Lilah
already did. On the other hand, if Parry were denied the power
he claimed, he could reveal the secret to all, and no Incarnation
of Evil would thereafter be able to exercise proper power.
Furthermore, it would be known that all the prior Incarnations,
Asmodeus himself included, had been bluffing throughout.
Demons only puffed into nonexistence because they were con-
vinced that the Lord of Hell had the power to destroy them.
They were the ultimate victims of Hell's greatest illusion.

Parry lifted his hand, his fingers poised to snap. At that snap,
Asmodeus would have either to vanish or to demonstrate that
the power was invalid. This was the key trial.

"I have a soul, as all Incarnations have," Asmodeus said.
"Thou canst not destroy me."

"Granted," Parry said. "But I can destroy all who serve
you, and replace them with My own minions. You may know
the spell, but you are no longer the Incarnation. / am, and the
ultimate power is Mine. Deny it if you will."

And Asmodeus, his bluff called, capitulated. "The ultimate
power is Thine, Satan. Leave me mine office, as Thy prede-
cessor did, and I will serve Thee as I did him."

Victory! "Remain," Parry said curtly. "I will reassign of-
ficers under your authority, as long as you serve Me well and
loyally. Hell shall be revamped along more efficient lines."

"Hell shall be revamped," Asmodeus agreed.

Parry turned his back. "Come wench," he said imperiously
to Lilah. He conjured them both to the tree retreat, leaving
behind a dissipating ball of fire. The magic was incidental, but
the proper flair was not. As Satan, he intended to do things in
style.

——II——

PLAGUE

But as it happened, the revamping of Hell was not readily
accomplished. It seemed mat Lucifer had let things slide, and
die various major figures had developed minor nefdoms. Hell
was vast in extent, and, despite the superficial arrangement in
circles, not well organized. Parry discovered that he was in
effect striking at a feather pillow; each piecemeal change he
made only resulted in a superficial alteration in an unchanging
base. He thought he was making progress, but after some time
discovered that he really had not accomplished much. The
bureaucracy of Hell balked him in its accommodating way.
"Damn it!" he swore one day in frustration.
"Already done," Lilah murmured. She was at the moment
in the guise of Helen of Troy, for his diversion. She was very
good at diverting him, and he could not protest because after
a day of getting nowhere with Hell he needed it. But he was
spending increasing time in such diversion, instead of accom-
plishing his job. The truth was that even that diversion was
becoming jaded. Lilah assumed any of a thousand forms for
his pleasure, including those of all die most ravishing women
of history, and she did whatever he asked with dispatch. But
he knew mat it was the same old demoness beneath, and the

203




204

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         205

Piers Anthony

challenge was absent. He was beginning to get tired of her,
though naturally he would not say this. He was wary of the
peril of losing her support.

"Did my predecessors have the same problem?"
"Of course, my Lord Satan," she agreed. "Each of them
spent a century or so trying to remake Hell, and another century
or so trying to remake the mortal realm, and a minute or so
trying to come to terms with God. Then they settled gradually
into funks, apart from occasional major projects. That was why
Lucifer was so upset with You: You ruined his one significant

ploy of the century."

"The scourge," Parry agreed. "I understand his position

better now."

"The fact is, the situation seems largely unchanging, and not
merely in Hell. Good is eternal. Evil is eternal, and Mortality
is eternally fudging between the two. It is inevitably dull.''

She was in a position to know. No wonder the Incarnations
of Evil eventually became careless; ennui set in, and it might
have been almost a relief for them to lose their offices to their

successors.
Yet he had not fared much better in the mortal world. The

other Incarnations, except for Chronos and Nox, opposed him
at every turn, seeming to take endless delight in this. As far
as he could ascertain, they were not accomplishing more than
he was; they were simply stirring their fingers in the pie and
leaving it as messed up as before. Probably that was the way
they staved off their own ennui. He had no respect for them,
but they were canny, and he was unable to embarrass them the

way they had him.

Of course he had opportunity when they changed office-
holders. He had overlooked it on the first ones, and had not
wished to do anything to the new Chronos, who had been his
friend throughout his tenure. Then Chronos had been replaced
by his predecessor, a thoroughly experienced Incarnation who

was also friendly.

"How long have I been in office?" Parry asked suddenly,

realizing that time had passed.

"Ninety-five years, my Lord Satan," Lilah answered im-
mediately.

"Ninety-five years!" he repeated, shocked. "It seemed like
only a few years!"

"It is only a few years. Not even a century."

"I shall have to do something!"

"My Lord, you have been trying to!"

"No, I mean something substantial. It is time that Satan
made his presence felt."

"As you say. Master," she said noncommittally.

She didn't believe he could do it. Angry, Parry cast about
for some new approach.

He had two areas of potential impact: Hell and the mortal
realm. His prior approaches had been effective in neither. What
he needed was superior management. He had been trying to
do it himself, and obviously he wasn't good at this. He had
depended on Asmodeus, who obeyed his every command but
somehow without much effect.

Maybe it was time to replace Asmodeus. But with whom?
Mephistopheles would be no better, and he did not trust Lu-
cifer.

Then he had a notion. "Lilah, go thaw Ozymandias."

"My Lord?" For once he had caught her by surprise.

"I'm going to put him in charge of Hell for a decade or so,
and see how he does. He's a competent organizer, isn't he?"

"Indubitably, my Lord. But—"

"And he will serve me loyally, won't he?"

"m the circumstance, yes. But—"

"Then what's the problem?"

"He's a damned soul. Locked in the ice. You know how I
have to thaw him. If he remains thawed, he will expect—"

"Um, yes. We'll have to assign a demoness to keep him
warm. Whom would you recommend?"

"My Lord, he will know the difference. He will insist on
me, personally. I know him; he always demands the best."

Parry considered. "The man has excellent taste. Well, then
you keep him warm. I'll borrow another demoness. Or a damned
soul. Nefertiti, perhaps. She could be fun." He had encoun-
tered the damned Egyptian soul in me course of his efforts to
reform Hell, and she had indicated a willingness to cooperate,
in return for better treatment. She had certainly been in Hell




Piers Anthony

206 FOR LOVE OF EVIL 207

long enough to know the nature of the cooperation that would
be required.

Ulan stared at him, shifting back to her natural state. "Are
you dismissing me, my Lord?"

"By no means, Lilah! But we must be realistic. If I must
do without your services for a time, I must have a replacement.
It wouldn't do for the Lord of Evil to be without a consort, or
to be known to be sharing one. Or to accept a substitute from
the bottom of the heap. Protocol requires only the best, which
is of course you, or one of the second best, such as Nefertiti.
When Ozymandias tires of you, you may return to me, no
questions asked."

"You are generous, my Lord Satan," she said with irony.
She seemed to be not completely impressed with his elegant
rationale.

Parry scowled. "Lilah, I want to get moving. I'm tired of
this stasis! If you have a better way, tell me!"

"I would not presume, my Lord," she said. "But you know
that Ozymandias is a powerful soul, and I have been known
to fall in love with that kind."

"Not this time, I think," he said. "Ozymandias is history;

I am not. Go entertain him, demoness; the break should refresh
us both."

She walked out. She could have vanished, but chose to make
a more dignified exit. She had reformed nude, so as to give
him an excellent view of her posterior as she walked. It was
die most shapely and supple posterior known to man or demon,
and she knew how to make it smile and frown and dance on
its own.

Parry was indeed tempted to call her back, but as a matter of
principle did not. He did not want her to think she owned him.

Ozymandias took hold immediately, glad for the chance to
show what he could do. Hell stirred restlessly under his lash,
as overseers were replaced and damned souls shifted to new
locations. Lilah kept him satisfied, but Parry suspected that he
would have continued working regardless, because of his over-
weening love of the exercise of power. Certainly it was better
for him than the ice!

Meanwhile, Nefertiti was an intriguing change-off, partly
because she was a good deal more naive than Lilah and had a
certain remaining modicum of queenly pride. Lilah had, he
realized, been too obliging; there had been none of (he ex-
citement of challenge with her. Nefertiti, in contrast, reacted
with shock when he essayed certain configurations; it was a
challenge and a pleasure educating her. In due course all her
barriers would be down; then she would be less intriguing. But
with proper management, she could last for a decent interval.

Still, Parry wasn't satisfied. It would be years, decades or
even centuries before Hell was fully reorganized, and it was
an internal affair. He wanted to make his mark on the mortal
realm, and to repay the Incarnations for their early humiliation
of him. If only he had an opening!

Then, abruptly, it came. The Incarnation of Nature retired,
and a new woman took her office.

Of all the scores Parry had to settle, this one was the most
nagging. He owed Gaea a serious humiliation! He had been
unable to make headway against the old one, but the new one
would be inexperienced, liable to make errors before she con-
solidated her power. Now was his time to strike! It was true
that the new Gaea had done him no injury, but she had been
admitted by the old one, and the old one was now a mortal,
able to see what happened to her erstwhile office. She would
rue the day she retired!

He scouted for prospects. What was in Gaea's domain mat
the Incarnation of Evil could influence? It was almost impos-
sible to change the operations of another Incarnation unless
thatTncamation were careless or inexperienced, which was
why the opportunity had to be grasped immediately.

He found a good one. In 1331 there had been a plague in
China of a particularly nasty variety. The Mongols maintained
trade routes between China and me West, and episodes of that
plague had been known along that route. How fitting that this
time, instead of arranging for a message to be dehvered from
die East, he arrange for an illness! The plague should drive
Gaea to distraction, and she might prove unable to stop it at
all. That would be an excellent humiliation! In addition, it
could send a number of souls to the Afterlife before their normal




208                PiersAwthony

time, confounding Fate's threads and overworking Thanatos.
Because those souls would come early, their proprietors would
not have enough time to make up for their bad deeds. They
would be caught with negative balances, and Hell would profit.

Yes, this was indeed beautiful! All he needed to do was
implement it, immediately, before the other Incarnations caught

on and acted to nullify it.

Parry took care of it personally. He went to Samarkand in
Transoxiana, a nexus of the eastern trade route. The plague
had not spread beyond here, because it depended on dense
populations for its propagation, and mis was a sparsely pop-
ulated mountainous region. He found a man who had suffered
the first fever but had good resistance; his fever was coming
down. He was with a merchant party and able to travel, but
they would not take a sick man along that rugged trail. This
was not because of any spirit of kindness, but because it was
too awkward to dispose of bodies appropriately, and the pace
of travel would be seriously slowed before the death.

Parry changed to an appropriate mortal form and approached
the caravan master. "I need a package delivered," he said in
the local language, using his prerogative as the Father of Lies
to accomplish his purpose. "But I do not trust just anyone to
carry it. I have found a sick man, whom robbers would not
dare approach for fear of contamination. I have given my
package to his care. Here is ample gold; will you see that he

is conveyed in isolation?"

The caravan master made ready to protest. Then he saw the
nature of the coinage proffered. It was three times as much as
was warranted, even for a treacherous mission like this. He
was a reasonably honest man, and not a murderer; he decided
to accept the money and accept the traveler.

The sick man, eager to get home rather than being stuck for
three more months here, did not quibble. He took the package
Parry gave him. The package was genuine: a precious Oriental
gem, for delivery to a jeweler. But it was a pretext, not the

real cargo.

Parry departed, not lingering a moment after his transactions
had been completed, in order to avoid calling attention to his
presence. Though his simulation of a mortal had been

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         209

impeccable—he had worked hard on such things during off
moments in the past century—even casual questioning would
reveal that no one of this region knew him. He wanted to evoke
no such dialogue. He let his messenger carry his burden.

Months later, the plague struck Asia Minor. It spread through
the eastern part of Anatolia and reached the developing Ot-
toman Turk Empire. The following year it crossed me Dar-
danelles and infected Constantinople. Now it was in Europe,
and on its way. The new Gaea and the other Incarnations were
scurrying about like dispossessed rat fleas, trying to stem the
black tide of it.

Chronos called on him. "I do not wish to interfere in your
business, my friend," he said gravely. "But if I might ask a
favor—"

For Chronos, Parry would grant it.

"It is that you arrange to spare the city and environment of
Milan, Italy. This region is destined to become a leading force
in the Renaissance, and—"

Parry had no notion what that might mean, but he did not
argue. "Milan will be spared," he agreed. Then he summoned
Beelzebub, and directed him to see to the preservation of Milan
from this scourge of the Black Death.

In 1348 it spread throughout the Mediterranean region, wip-
ing out one third of the population. Gaea was distraught; by
the time she realized the significance of this invasion, it was
beyond her means to cope with it. This was success beyond
Parry's expectation!

But there was a strange gap in its progress, or rather an
omission. Milan was untouched. Beelzebub had gone there and
fashioned a spell that eradicated all the rat fleas in the vicinity;

as the Lord of Flies, he had this power. Because the plague
was transmitted to man via the bites of fleas, that region was
spared the ravage of the Black Death.

Parry also had Beelzebub do his thing in southern France,
in the vicinity of Parry's original home. He realized he was
being foolishly sentimental, but he did not want his ascendancy
to the Office of Evil to penalize the folk of that region. No
one he had known remained alive, of course, but still . . .

hi 1349 the Black Plague spread throughout Spain and down

210 Piers Anthony

the west coast of Africa, north across France and into southern
England. The other Incarnations remained helpless to stem its
progress. Thanatos fell months behind on his rounds, and made
increasing errors of classification. A number of souls that should
have been relegated to Heaven arrived instead in Hell. Ozy-
mandias had to set up a separate section for them, an emulation
of Heaven, with demons masquerading as angels and doing
nice things. It was a joke, but it had its appeal; those souls
who were favored were allowed vacations there, provided they
kept silent about its true nature. Parry knew that in due course
those undamned souls would have to be reassigned to Heaven,
and he did not want them to suffer culture shock.

In 1349 the plague spread throughout England and Ireland
and the Holy Roman Empire, skipping only Flanders, because
Father Grief had had a Franciscan friar friend there.

At this time Parry received a visitor. It was a young mortal
woman from the city of Warsaw, in Poland. She had committed
her soul not for riches or happiness but for the privilege of mis
single interview with the Incarnation of Evil. Intrigued, Parry
granted it, and had Nefertiti usher her in.

By an eerie coincidence, the woman bore a resemblance to
Jolie, Parry's first love. Perhaps it was no more than the fact
that she was of peasant stock, garbed in the rags that were her
nearest approach to finery, and was young and thin and ter-
rified. It had after all been more than a hundred and forty years
since the frightened Jolie presented herself at his door.

He looked at the spot on his wrist. It was so faded as to be
almost invisible against his darkened skin, but it was still there.
Was she still present, sleeping in that dehydrated drop of blood?
Or had she at last been released to Heaven? Suddenly he missed
her with an overwhelming nostalgia. His first love? His only
love! He had been corrupted by the demoness, and had had
much joy of her malleable body, but he had never truly loved
her.

"My Lord Satan," the girl said timorously. "Before You
relegate my soul to eternal torture, I have one—one boon to
ask of You, and I—I pray that You grant it.'' She was shaking
with her fear, but something drove her on.

What could such a creature desire so badly that she would

FOR LOVE Of EVIL         211

throw away the one asset she had, her immortal soul, to gain
it? "Ask," Parry said, not unkindly. That resemblance to Jolie
still shook him.

"Your Lordship, the plague—they say it is Your doing, to
get back at those who humbled You."

"True."

"But it is hurting everyone, the good and the evil alike, and
most of these never tried to humble You. I was visiting in
Prague, and—oh, my Lord, if You could only see!"

It was ridiculous, he knew, but Parry wanted a pretext to
remain a while longer with this giri. He knew she wasn't Jolie,
but the atmosphere of the encounter was so evocative that he
could not help himself. Perhaps it was also her innocence that
fascinated him, for that was a quality he seldom saw these
days.

"Show me," he said. He stood from his throne and extended
his hand.

The giri nerved herself and took his hand.

He worked his magic, and suddenly they stood in Prague,
in me Kingdom of Bohemia. As a mortal he had been virtually
unable to conjure, but his office enhanced his powers of magic,
and he had been at pains to master useful disciplines. Now he
could conjure himself and others anywhere with ease, not merely
within Hell but in me mortal realm.

It was a horror. There were bodies piled in me street, and
these were purplish, almost black in hue, the features of their
faces locked in the rictus of their closing agony. Men with
wagons were going about, picking up the bodies, piling them
up and hauling them to a mass burial pit beyond the city.

They walked through Prague, hand in hand. Parry did not
need to maintain the contact to keep her with him, but the girl
did not know that, and he did not undeceive her. The feeling
of being with Jolie was heart-wrenchingly strong.

They saw the victims in every stage. The early sufferers had
headache, aching joints, and a general feeling of malaise. Some
had nausea, and some were vomiting. Swollen nodes developed
in the groin, some me size of hens' eggs; it was possible to
spot a sufferer of the plague by the way he walked. They
developed high fever and congestion of die eyes and face.

212 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE Of EVIL 213

Many suffered from severe thirst, gulping down water that
often was simply vomited out again. Their tongues were gross,
thickly coated.

Those who were more advanced were exhausted and de-
pressed. Some ran around crazily, as if they thought they could
escape their pain. Others seemed dizzy, and some evidently
suffered delirium. Then they sank into stupor, and their color
started to turn. That was me signal that death was imminent.
Many, Parry knew, required the personal service ofThanatos,
for their souls were nearly in balance between good and evil,
but Thanatos was not in evidence. That meant added suffering,
for they could not quite die until the Incarnation of Death
arrived.

Indeed, it was much worse than Parry had thought. He had
started the plague, impinging on Gaea's domain, thinking it
would embarrass her and cause her mischief, but the ploy had
succeeded beyond his expectation. It was wiping out one third
of the population it attacked, and doing it in a grotesque man-
ner.

"0 my Lord," the girl said. "When I mink of this coming
to my own city, to Warsaw, to Poland—"

Parry released her hand and snapped his fingers. "Beelze-
bub," he said.

Beelzebub appeared. He glanced around. "Hell on Earth!"
he said approvingly.

"Turn off the plague," Parry said.

Beelzebub had held the office of the Incarnation of Evil in
olden times. He had become an increasingly open supporter
of the present regime as the plague progressed; Parry was doing
the Office proud, scoring a coup against Gaea and Thanatos
and perhaps against God Himself. This order could hardly have
been to his liking! But he had discipline.

"My Lord Satan, the magnitude of it is too great. Only Gaea
can suppress it, when she masters her powers. I can halt it
only in a limited region, by piping away the rat fleas that carry
it."

Parry nodded, knowing that Beelzebub was giving an ac-
curate report. "Then save Poland," he said. "Make sure Pra-
gue is included in the plague-free area."

"That I can do, though it is (he limit of my power," the
damned soul said. He vanished.

The giri turned a wondering gaze to him. "That demon will
stop the plague?"

"In Poland," Parry said. "He can do no more. It will pro-
ceed elsewhere until it runs its course."

"Then I am ready for my fate," she said simply. "Throw
me into Hell."

Parry took her hand again, and used his magic to take them
to Warsaw. Here life was normal; the plague had not struck,
and would not. "Return to your family," he said. "You are
not dead, and need not die soon. You will never come to My
realm, good woman." He turned her loose.

She stared at him. "But I gave up my soul—"

"For one interview with Me. I granted the interview, but
will not take your soul. You are good, not evil, and do not
belong in My realm." He turned away.

He was about to conjure himself back to Hell, but he paused,
lingering one more moment in the presence of this girl who
so reminded him of his lost love. He knew he had done the
favor not because it was right but because he could not resist
the foolish impulse to please her, and thereby in some devious
manner perhaps make up for what he had done to Jolie by his
defection to evil.

She spoke once more, her voice almost a whisper. "Thank
you. Parry."

He stiffened, hardly believing what he had heard. Then,
slowly, he turned, but the girl was gone.

Had he heard her call him by the name that only Jolie would
have known, or had he imagined it? He realized that he might
never know for sure, but he preferred to believe that Jolie had
awakened for this moment, when he was out of Hell and away
from the demoness and doing a bit of good that was out of
character for his office, and mat she had in mat moment ani-
mated the giri and spoken to him.

He had had his reward.

The plague did run its course, proceeding through the rest
of Europe in 1350 and 1351 but bypassing the huge area of




214

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         215

Piers Anthony

Poland from just north of Prague to north of Warsaw. In 1352
and 1353 it moved on past Novgorod and through Russia, doing
decreasing damage. By that time Gaea had gained facility with
her office, and though she still had a problem with other ill-
nesses, such as smallpox, she never again allowed as massive
a sweep of the Black Plague as had occurred in these eight
years. Parry had, in his fashion, his revenge, and now it was
done.

He continued to dabble in mortal affairs, exploiting any
weaknesses he discovered. His most notable success was in
1378, when he managed to fan the fires of divisiveness within
me Church to the point where the Papacy itself split asunder.
One Pope was established in Avignon in southern France (Parry
simply could not resist putting the land of his birth into the
picture again), and the other in Rome in Italy, with the entire
continent divided in its loyalties. Heresies nourished, and it
was evident that it was no longer possible to suppress them in
the manner of the past.        .

He also made a score in the political arena. His visit to
Samarkand had alerted him to me potential of that region, and
he fostered the development of a powerful and ruthless lame
king, called Tamerlane, who wreaked havoc in that region of
the world and generated pyramids of skulls. But this was in
die Moslem society, so had limited impact on the Christian
framework, and his harvest of damned souls was not what he
had hoped for.

In fact, all this fencing with God in the indirect medium of
the mortal realm seemed increasingly pointless. It was true, as
me Polish girl had said, that innocent folk were the main
sufferers. The errors of classification, me inefficient confusions
between good and evil—whom did these benefit? The real
struggle was between Good and Evil; why not tackle God
directly?

The more Parry thought about mis, the better he liked the
notion. It was time to have me two Primaries settle things in
person!

But how should he go about broaching God? Never in his
mortal lire or in his time as an Incarnation had he ever had
direct communication with the Incarnation of Good. He knew

that mortal folk often prayed to God, and certainly the Church
interposed itself as the mediator between man and God, but
all this was based on faith. What tangible response had there
been?

Rather than argue the case rhetorically with himself, he went
to his friend Chronos in Purgatory. The Incarnation of Time
greeted him positively, as always. "To what do I owe the
honor of this visit, Satan?"

"I wish to have a facedown with God," Parry said, "so
that mortals do not have to suffer the effects of our differences.
But I don't know how to approach Him. I hoped you might
have an insight."

Chronos pursed his lips. "I do not believe I have ever en-
countered God directly."

"Exactly my problem. I am prepared to go to meet Him, if
I can find the way."

Chronos frowned. "I will help if I can, my friend. But
perhaps you should explain to me in more detail why a personal
confrontation is necessary."

Parry summarized the questions that had developed in his
mind. "I have been thinking about my purpose as the Incar-
nation of Evil. Is it to generate evil in the mortal world, or
merely to locate existing evil? Am I here to encourage greater
evil, or to discourage it by the threat of infernal punishment?
Am I supposed to defeat God and become the major figure of
the universe, or to be defeated? There is so much I do not
know!"

Chronos nodded. "I have wondered about that on occasion
myself, and about my own true mission. It is my job to es-
tablish the timing of every event in the mortal realm, and
my staff handles most of this; I step in only when the situation
is special. But what is the point? Why should events need
to be timed at all? I have concluded tentatively that my job
is necessary to facilitate the diminution of entropy. Perhaps
yours is similar."

"Entropy?" Parry asked blankly.

Chronos smiled. "Sometimes I forget that some of my terms
are from your future. The complete concept of entropy, I think,
would be too complex to define readily. Let me summarize an




216

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         217

Piers Anthony

aspect of it this way: entropy may be considered as a measure
of uncertainty. In the beginning, all was without form and
void, what we call chaos. Nothing was known or, perhaps,
knowable. We are laboring to bring order and understanding
to it, and in so doing we are decreasing entropy. We are fighting
the natural current, for the universe, left to itself, would in due
course relapse back to its disorganized state, with maximum
entropy. Eventually, if we succeed, we will accomplish the
maximum organization of the universe, and all will be known.
Thus all Incarnations, Good and Evil included, may be working
toward a common goal."

Parry nodded. "You have thought about it, Chronos! It never
occurred to me that Good and Evil might be on the same side,
but perhaps that is so. But why, then, should we oppose each
other?"

"I suspect we should not. But perhaps my theorizing is
mistaken."

"I doubt it! Maybe it is just that because we have been
assigned to different aspects of reality, and have assumed dif-
ferent identities, we believe that we are differing forces. We
become competitive, each trying for a greater share of power.
This may be folly!"

"This may be folly," Chronos agreed.

"Here I am, fighting God for a greater share of mortal
souls—and why? What do I want with yet more soiled souls?
What does He want with yet more pristine souls? Why should
either of us care how many souls the other has? As you say,
what is the point?" He found himself carried away by his
vehemence, but now the question loomed much larger than
before.

"What is the point," Chronos repeated.

"Now, more than ever, it seems proper for me to meet with
God, not in the competitive sense, but for the sake of under-
standing. Perhaps we can abolish the confusion that has sur-
rounded our endeavors. Perhaps we can hasten the process of
bringing complete order to the world."

"I favor that," Chronos said. "Perhaps if you talked to the
other Incarnations—"

"I tried that once, in the time of one of your successors,"

Parry said ruefully. "They humiliated me. Of all the major
Incarnations, only you and Nox have treated me decently, and
I am afraid to approach her again."

"Oh, I have not encountered Nox. Is she fearsome?"

"Not in the negative sense. She—but perhaps, for you, she
would be all right. If you have need for a female companion
who understands—"

"I do," Chronos agreed. "Normal women do not adapt well
to my direction of living."

"I shall send Lilah to guide you to her, if you wish. But be
warned; Nox is a most seductive creature."

"I thank you, Satan. However, do not send Lilah, for that
would occur necessarily in my past. Merely allow me to borrow
her without challenge in your own past."

"Of course." Parry, even after all this time, kept getting
caught by Chronos' reversal! "She understands, and will co-
operate." Had cooperated, he now realized, and had not in-
formed him. That was best, to avoid confusion.

"But now let me see whether I can help you similarly. I do
not know the route to God's domain, but I do know that the good
souls find it. Peihaps if you could follow one of them—"

Parry nodded.' 'I have a number that have been misallocated.
I could release them, and see where they go."

"I wish you well, friend." But then Chronos frowned.
"However, I must warn you that in my particular time line,
there is no change in the rivalry between Incarnations. This
does not necessarily indicate that none will occur for you, for
my past, like your future, is malleable. But it does suggest
that the probability of success in your venture is suspect."

Parry was used to his friend's circumlocutions. "You mean
I may fall on my face."

"That is what I said," Chronos said with a smile.




FOR LOVE OF EVIL         219

HEAVEN

Parry made sure that Hell was functioning reasonably, gave
Nefertiti a holiday in mock Heaven, and collected five mis-
allocated souls. In Hell proper they were just like living folk,
but would become ethereally slight beyond. He explained me
situation to them: that they were the victims of confusion, and
had been held temporarily in Hell pending proper release to
Heaven. Now he proposed to release them one at a time,
carrying the others with him, so that he could follow them to
Heaven for an interview with God.

"I am Satan, the Father of Lies," he concluded. "I can
offer you no proof that this is me truth, and you are not required
to cooperate. But it is the only way I have to find Heaven, and
I hope that you will cooperate in the chance that it is true."

They considered, and decided that if they truly were in Hell
now, nothing they could do would free them from it unless
they were released by the Lord of Evil. If this was to be such
a release, it behooved them to cooperate; if it was merely a
deception, they were lost anyway. So they agreed.

He escorted them out. As they emerged from Hell, they
thinned into mere webs of themselves, patterns without sub-
stance. They had no consciousness; that was feasible only in

Hell, Purgatory, Heaven, or when animated on Earth as a ghost.
But when brought to an appropriate region, their souls should
float. Parry wound them in like gauze and packed them into a
bag he carried.

He conjured himself to Earth's surface. Then he brought out
one soul and released it. Immediately it set off, attracted to
Heaven by me burden of good in its makeup. He followed,
using his magic to fly, keeping the pace.

The soul sailed upward, but not exactly vertically. It was
not going to the sky, but to Heaven, a different matter. It
wavered and swerved in the ethereal currents, its faint color
changing, and in a moment he lost it.

Undismayed, he brought out the second and released it. He
had not expected to be able to follow one the whole way; if
the route to Heaven were straightforward, it would not be such
a mystery!

The second soul seemed to hesitate, but this was illusion;

without consciousness, it was simply drifting in the pattern of
good and evil, perhaps caught in an eddy. In a moment it found
the way and moved out.

This one took him into Purgatory. That was perplexing; he
was sure that this was a good soul, bound for Heaven. Only
those in such balance that no decision was possible remained
in Purgatory.

Then he realized that the way to Heaven lay through Pur-
gatory. Even those souls not staying there still had to check
through; there was no direct access to Heaven. It seemed ob-
vious in retrospect.

The soul moved into a region of increasing confusion. There
were trees, but they were bulbous and oddly colored. There
were paths, but they had strange convolutions. There were
landscapes, unlike those of any mortal region. It was inter-
esting; he would have to set up a region of Hell with similar
configurations.

The soul moved through the middle of it—and was lost.
Parry brought out the third one and let it go.

It swam through the confusion, and was similarly lost.

Parry paused. He had not been able to follow the third soul
at all; it had disappeared into Limbo too quickly. He only had




220 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 221

two remaining, having perhaps underestimated the extent of I
this challenge.                                             |

Limbo? He looked around more carefully. Indeed, this was 8
like that bleak region of Hell. It was simply a field of chaotic
images, with no organization.

Chaotic . . .

This was a waste, an aspect of chaos! That part of the
universe with original entropy, without form and void. He had
heard that Pate spun her threads of life from this substance.
Now he was in it—and no wonder he was losing the souls,
for there was no order here, nothing to differentiate object from
background, life from nonlife. Nothing could be pursued through
chaos,                                                    t

He would have to get beyond it before releasing the next |
soul. But he paused.                                       |

Why should Fate spin her threads of life from this melange?
The good was hopelessly confused with the evil. Fate was on
the side of good; she would not want this!

Yet evidently she did. And so the lives formed from her
threads were almost indecipherable melanges of good and evil,
impossible to classify clearly. Thus those lives had to struggle
through the horrors of mortality before finally coming to Heaven
or to Hell. What a colossal waste!

But he was unsatisfied with that conclusion. Fate was a
devious and unpleasant creature of many personalities, but she
knew well what she was doing. She would not spin from this
stuff if she had any alternative. She—

Then it came to him. Chronos had explained about entropy
and chaos; that it seemed to be the duty of die Incarnations to
diminish each, to bring order and comprehension to the uni-
verse. That could not be done by ignoring chaos. They were
deliberately drawing from chaos, fashioning it into lives—so
that these could be defined as good or evil!

All that agony of mortality—just to deal with the problem
of entropy. To process the stuff of chaos through to Heaven
and Hell, properly classified at last. Eventually all of it would
be done, and the universe would be in order.

But at what a cost! How many thousands, how many thou-
sands of thousands of lives like Jolie's, had to be twisted and

tortured and cut short, just to accomplish this goal? What a
vasty cynicism!

Yet it was being done, and under God's auspices. The end
justified the means! There was (hat treacherous doctrine that
Lilah had used to corrupt him—and now it was obvious that
God subscribed to it, too. The end of creating order justified
the means of toil and suffering for innumerable mortal lives.
He had used it to corrupt the Inquisition: the end of saving
souls justified the means of torture and pillaging of the estates
of those accused.

Parry sighed. He was now the Incarnation of Evil. He knew
evil when he spied it, even if the other Incarnations did not.
It was past time to talk to God and set Him straight on this.

Now he moved on through the confusion, closing his eyes
because it would be too easy to get lost here. He knew that
the extent of the void was limited; if he proceeded straight, he
would in due course get out of it. A mortal might become
hopelessly lost, but he was now an immortal.

He opened his eyes, and found that he was still in it. He
closed them and moved on again. But when he looked, he
remained in chaos.

Had he been too optimistic about his ability to escape it?
Evidently it had affected his bearings, and now he was not
moving the way he thought he was. What irony, if the Lord
of Evil fell prey to chaos!

But there was another way. He brought out the fourth soul,
and did not release it. The thing tried to move, and stretched
out from his hand, but remained captive.

He moved in the direction it seemed to be trying to go. He
tuned out the surrounding chaos and oriented on the soul.
Wherever it wanted to go, there he would go, carrying it along.

And, without perceiving exactly when, he emerged from the
void. The soul had known its destination, and brought him
out.

Now he let it go. It accelerated, as if glad to be free. He
followed, coursing on toward Heaven. He kept his attention
fixed on it, so that he would not lose it.

Then it slowed, and he realized that they had arr ved. The
Circles of Heaven were forming around them.




222 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 223

The outermost was a blaze of light^a phenomenal brilliance,
a ring of fire that resembled the outline of the sun, but became
much larger, swelling to encompass the horizon. He thought
there might be some challenge as he entered it, but there was
not; he simply joined it and was in Heaven.

He stood on the edge of a bright cloud bank. All around
stood faintly glowing folk. They did not have wings; they were
souls, not angels, just as the souls in Hell lacked the tails of
demons. Oddly, they did not look particularly happy; rather
they seemed resigned, or even bored.

He brought out the fifth soul and let it go; he had no need
for its guidance now. Instead of traveling, it unfolded into its
human form: a middle-aged man, dead of the plague but no
longer disfigured by it. He gazed around, perplexed. "This is
it?" he asked.

"This is it," Parry agreed. "Your eternal home. May you
enjoy it."

The man looked uncertain, obviously not willing to express
disappointment. He drifted away.

Perhaps this was no more than the outer rim of Heaven,
analogous to Limbo in Hell, where those souls drifted that
were imperfect, not good enough, literally, to penetrate farther
into Heaven. No wonder the soul he had released was disap-
pointed! There really was not much difference between this
aspect of Heaven and that aspect of Hell.

But he wasn't here to tour Heaven; he was here to meet
God. Where would God be? Surely in the center, the highest
reach, just as the Incarnation of Evil's office was in the neth-
ermost reach of Hell.

Parry flew up to the next level. This was not precisely phys-
ical motion, but rather a mental effort to enter a deeper circle;

it was evident that the standing souls could not do it.

The Second Heaven was starkly different from the First.
It was a bleak landscape, bare rock and sand, pocked by
craters of every size. It was in fact the face of the Moon.
Many spirits stood idle here, too, looking scarcely happier
than those below.

He moved on to the Third Heaven, which was an improve-
ment: it was the landscape of Venus, the Planet of Love.

Yet, somehow, it seemed little more illustrious than the
Moon. It was supposed to be the joy of the spirits of lovers,
but since carnality was forbidden in Heaven, all they could do
was stand around and gaze longingly at one another. The appeal
of that seemed to pall in die course of eternity.

The Fourth Heaven was the Sphere of the Sun. This was
certainly brighter, and me souls were engaged in animated
dialogue with each other. These were the theologians and fa-
thers of the Church, and of course they never tired of their
exercises in interpretation.

The Fifth Heaven was me Sphere of Mars, with the warrior
spirits. But, of course, there was no fighting in Heaven, so
they were idle.

The Sixth Heaven was the Sphere of Jupiter, with the spirits
of the righteous rulers. This was sparsely settled.

He proceed on past the Seventh Heaven of the Sphere of
Saturn, with the spirits of die contemplative, and die Eighth
Heaven, consisting of fixed stars. Many of the Saints were
here. They lacked the passions of normal folk, so it was not
surprising mat mey were not jubilant.

The Ninm Heaven seemed to be me retreat mostly of angels;

the Tenth—

This, he realized, was where God should be. But where was
He? Parry gazed about, and saw only an enormous pattern of
tight mat could be interpreted as—

Then he realized that me light, when correctly viewed, formed
die image of an infinitely monstrous human face framed within
a triple halo. This, at last, was God.

Parry waved. There was no response. "Haloo!" he called.
There was no response.

God simply was not paying attention.

After some time, disgruntled. Parry gave it up. He dropped
rapidly down through the layers of Heaven until he reached
die outer one. He was about to depart it when there was a cry.

"My Lord Satan!"

There was a stirring among die apathetic souls of this region.
From among mem came me man he had last released. "My
Lord, I beg you, take me back widi You!"

Surprised, Parry waited for him. "You don't like Heaven?"




234 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 225

"My Lord, it is just as dull as Hell—and most of my friends
are in Hell. I would rather remain mere."

"But you don't belong in Hell. The balance of your soul is
positive."

"Only marginally, my Lord. I will never get beyond this
outer circle. I'd be better off in the mock Heaven annex ofHeU,
if I get leave to visit there. Please, my Lord, take me back!"

Such a situation had never occurred to Parry. Yet me soul
was serious. Was there a precedent for this?

There was another stirring. The other souls shrank away.
"The guardian angels!" someone murmured.

Now Parry saw them: bright winged figures in the form of
big, bruising men, swiftly approaching.

"Please, my Lord!" the soul repeated.

Perhaps it was the angels that tipped his decision. Panry did
not like me look of them. It seemed to him that they could
readily serve similar duty in Hell. "Very well," he said. He
extended his hand, touching me man.

Immediately the man thinned into a web, the soul discamate.
Parry wound this around his hand, compacting it so that it
would fit into his pouch. Souls had no mass but did have
dimension; it would not do to have it drag out behind him.

The angels arrived. "Let go mat soul!" one ordered.

In the past century Parry had grown unaccustomed to that
tone of address from either demons or damned souls. He found
he liked it no better from an angel. But mis was not his realm,
so he let it pass. He closed the pouch, confining the soul, and
turned away.

"Listen, fringe-spirit," the angel said contemptuously. "If
you know what's good for you—"

"Hardly," Parry said, with an ironic smile. He started to
sink down through the cloud bank.

The angel reached menacingly for him. "I warned you!"
But the grasping hand passed through Parry's substance without
effect. Parry dropped on down, and in a moment was out,
leaving the astonished and dismayed angel behind. He was not
impressed with either Heaven or its guardians. No wonder the
soul wanted to leave!

He reached the vague region of chaos and plunged straight

on through it. And realized too late that there was no direction
in chaos. He did not emerge; he was mired in it, again.

Last time, he had used one of the souls he carried to guide
him. He tried it again, appreciating the coincidence mat had
caused a soul to accompany him this time.

The soul oriented and stretched out. Parry followed its di-
rection, holding on as he had before. It was working!

Soon they cleared chaos and approached—Heaven.

Now, in retrospect, he realized that this soul, being mar-
ginally good, naturally levitated toward Heaven, not Hell. The
soul's private desire had nothing to do with it; it was the balance
of good and evil on it. If he wanted a guide toward Hell, he
would have to find a suitably damned soul.

In Heaven? Well, there could have been similar errors in
classification that resulted in marginally damned souls being
sent to Heaven. Perhaps he could find one of those. But would
it want to go to Hell?

Parry sighed. It really would be better to find his own way.
He would just have to keep trying.

He bundled up the soul again and put it in the pouch. Then
he closed his eyes and plunged as fast as he could.

And got lost again. Chaos took no note of direction or ve-
locity; such concepts were valid only in a somewhat organized
framework.

Maybe his own damned soul could do it! He tried to let
himself go, to sink toward his natural realm as if he were a
newly released soul.

After a timeless time—time was another invalid concept
here—he realized that this wasn't working either. No matter
what he did, or didn't do, he was stuck in the Void. Unless
he gave up and used the captive soul to guide him back to
Heaven. That he did not want to do!

He tried one more thing, foolish as he deemed it: he called
for help. Traveler lost! he thought as loudly as he could, though
neither loudness nor thought had validity here. Anyway, who
was here to listen or respond?

Here, lost one!

Parry stopped still, though that too could not be literal. There




226

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         227

PiwsAwthony

He did not, at this stage, care whom it might be. He oriented
on it and went.

It turned out to be a rather old patriarchal-appearing man,
white-bearded and garbed in a vaguely clerical robe. He nodded
sagely as Parry approached. "You ventured into forbidden
territory, traveler." His language was not Parry's, but here,
as in Hell, all languages seemed one.

"So it turned out," Parry agreed wryly. "I thank you for
rescuing me."

"It is my business to rescue lost souls, when they wish it.
But it has been some time since one like you appeared." He
gestured, and a room appeared around diem. "Make yourself
comfortable, and perhaps we shall converse."

"You are able to direct me from this region?" Parry asked,
taking a seat in a staid but serviceable chair.

"Direct you? I am not sure. But fear not; I gladly will guide
you. I use an aspect of me Llano, which is about the only force
that can penetrate chaos."

There was the Llano again! "That I sincerely appreciate!
But please, may I know your identity? I—" Then Parry re-
alized that me other might not be pleased to learn whom he

has rescued.

"I am JHVH." He did not actually pronounce the name; it
was only a concept.

There was no help for it; Parry was not going to deceive the
one who had helped him. "I am Satan, me Incarnation of
Evil."

"Ah, me Christian variant!" JHVH said, extending his hand.
"I am glad to meet You at last."

Parry hesitated. "Are you sure you want to—" Then the
identity of the other finally registered. "But you are—"

"The Hebrew Deity. Come, Satan, surely You are not shy

of Me?"

Parry finally took the hand. "I just thought—do you know,
uh, do You know, I came to confront the Christian God. I
never expected—of course I should have recognized—"

"Quite all right, Satan. I do not have the following that
either of You do, or, indeed, that Allah does, or any of Ae

great Oriental Presences. I am in fact a minor Deity, and My
believers suffer much from persecution."

"But you—you are older than any of—"

"My Office is, perhaps. I myself date only from the last
three thousand years or so. I was a Mountain Deity, adopted
by a wandering tribe, in competition with many others. When
I started, it seemed impossible to prevail against Baal, My
chief rival in that region. He kept stealing My people, and—
well, it is a long story, hardly of interest to You."

"But you—You are ancient! Both Christianity and the Sar-
acens derive from—"

JHVH waved a hand in negation. "That is an exaggeration.
The Prophet Jesus was Mine, certainly, but then his followers
were diverted and a new Office was formed. I admit I did not
take it seriously at first; none of us did. Splinter gods occur
constantly, and few survive more than a few decades. But this
faction got in with the Romans, and then it prospered, and the
Office with it."

Parry was amazed. "You are saying mat there are many
Offices? That the old Gods still exist?"

JHVH smiled. ' 'Any Deity or Devil that any mortal believes
in exists, and that entity is strengthened by the number and
intensity of His believers. Thus Your Office is very strong,
because great numbers of mortals believe in You, though they
try to deny it."

"I—I never realized! I thought—"

"That the Christian version of Good and Evil were all that
exist?" JHVH asked with a smile.

"Something like that," Parry admitted, somewhat sheep-
ishly. "Or that our mutual framework accounted for every-
thing. You mentioned Baal; I believe he became Beelzebub,
the Lord of Flies, in My Hell."

"Yes, the Deities of one generation become the Devils of
the next; the Christians adopted him for a time."

Parry remained out of sorts. "How is it that You, knowing
this, have extended aid to one like Me? Surely you wish to
abolish all that I represent!"

"We may be rivals, but We are not enemies," JHVH




228 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 229

said. "We are all trying to bring order from chaos, as you
know."

Parry smiled ruefully. "I have just had a reminder how
awkward chaos can be! But You are correct; I had concluded
that it was pointless to continually fight God, when actually
We should be cooperating toward the common objective."

"So You went to see Him, on that mission of amity," JHVH
said. "And got nowhere."

"And got nowhere," Parry agreed. "He is locked in a nar-
cissistic contemplation of Himself. Apparently He is not paying
any attention to the routine matter of the mortal realm, or indeed
of Heaven."

JHVH nodded. "I fear I was no better in my heyday. I
demanded above all else the adulation of Me. The first com-
mandment of my people was "Thou shall have no other gods
before Me.' When My people worshipped a golden calf, My
rage was not because they were slipping back into idolatry and
its uncivilized imperatives, but because it was a slight against
Me. I retaliated by visiting on them all manner of mischief.
But I concluded after some centuries of chronic relapsing on
their part that rage and punishment was not the best way to
hold a clientele. It is only the most primitive of mortals who
are swayed by that sort of thing. So I ameliorated My stance,
and I think have been a better Deity for it, though it is true
that I do not attract the same proportion of mortals that I once
did. Unfortunately the young Christian Deity took Me as a role
model and emulated some of the worst faults of My heyday,
especially that of pride. His enormous success has given Him
the freedom to indulge those propensities beyond all reason.
Humiliation can indeed make better Deities of Us, because We
are reminded that We do not control the universe. Pride un-
checked . . ."

Parry had to smile. For the first time he saw some slight
benefit in the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of the
other Incarnations! His pride had never gotten out of bounds.

"I wonder if You, in Your contemplations, have come across
the answer to the riddle I have wrestled with," he said. "I
have been unable to decide whether, in the framework of the
assignments of Good and Evil as Incarnations, it is my purpose

to locate evil or to generate it. The task of sorting good from
evil suggests that it is me former, but the practice seems to have
been me latter. Now, in me face of God's dereliction—" He
shrugged.

"Surely it is to locate evil," JHVH said. "Or perhaps to
evoke it. We know that evil is omnipresent; every mortal thread
represents an admixture of good and evil so intricate as to be
virtually inseparable. The question thus becomes not whether
evil is present, as obviously it is, but to what extent it dominates
me individual. You thus must do Your utmost to evoke that
quality of evil that makes an individual eligible for Hell, so
that no errors of classification are made."

"To evoke it!" Parry repeated, wonderingly. "Yes, of
course!"

"That is what Your predecessors were doing, from the time
of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil on.
They were tempting mortals into sin, knowing that temptation
is the surest method to evoke hidden evil. Mortals of course
condemn such efforts, but consider the alternative: hidden evil
would have remained in the Garden of Eden, unresolved. The
Deity of that time, the ancestor to God's current office and
Mine, finally recognized this, and allowed mortal man to pro-
ceed to the challenging outer world. The result has been his-
tory."

"It has indeed!" Parry agreed warmly. "Your perspective
enlightens Me!"

"It is a pleasure to review basic principles," JHVH said.
"So few are interested."

' 'But now, with God tuned out, the separation of good from
evil is becoming sloppy," Pany said. "Heaven hardly differs
from Hell in certain respects; aimlessness seems to dominate.
I have a soul here"—he patted his pouch—"who asked to
return to Hell from Heaven. Consider what that suggests for
incentive! If mortals lose both their desire for Heaven and their
fear of Hell, how will a proper separation of good from evil
be accomplished?"

"The Buddhists seem to manage it by arranging for the
extinction of all personal desires and passions, leaving the spirit
perfect."




230

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         231

Piers Anthony

"But it loses its identity in the whole!" Parry protested.
"Christians would never go for that! They insist on retaining
their identities for eternity, good and evil and all."

"That does seem to be their problem," JHVH agreed.

"Which means that we can't simply extract the good and
evil, we have to deal with the whole soul. That's much more
difficult. That's the problem I want to address. But God—"

"Perhaps new guidance is called for. In the old days, if one
Deity faltered, others were quick to take away His worshippers.
The lack of such a situation may be the contemporary prob-
lem."

Parry stared at him. "You are not suggesting that—that I
try to—to—"

"I am merely posing a notion," JHVH said. "Perhaps it is
an unworthy one. But it may be best to consider it carefully,
so as to expose its unsuitability."

"To take over the leadership of the Christian realm from
God, so as to be able to establish an improved mechanism for
processing souls," Parry finished.

"As I understand Your framework, all that is required is the
amassing of a greater number of souls than is controlled by
Your opposite. God has dominated because most mortals prefer
to go to Heaven when they die."

"They wouldn't, if they knew how dull it was!"

"Then perhaps you may want to spread the word."

Parry was uncertain. "If my objective is to find a more
efficient way to separate me threads, to evoke the evil ones
instead of letting the matter drag on interminably, what would
be gained by bringing an increased number of marginal souls
to Hell?"

"Only power, the power brought by the number of souls in
Your domain," JHVH said. "Would it corrupt you, also?"

"It might. I have never had complete power, and am not
sure I trust myself with it."

"A sensible caution," JHVH agreed.

"Yet I am unwilling to let this folly continue," Parry said.
"I wish I could simply settle it with God and be done with
it."

"In Hell, are You the sole administrator?"

"Hardly! I have a hierarchy of damned souls to handle—"
Parry broke off, catching on. "It must be the same in Heaven!
If I talked to the chief administrator—"

"That was My thought."

"Which I think would be the Angel Gabriel. He is the one
who is to blow the hom on Judgment Day."

"Gabriel is in My service too," JHVH remarked. "He has
been My chief messenger, and the Prince of Thunder and Fire,
not to mention Death. He also revealed the sacred laws to
Mohammed."

"I am amazed at the manner he gets around!"

' 'Evidently God offered him a superior position, just as Your
predecessor offered one to Baal. Good administrators are hard
to come by."

"All too true," Parry agreed. "I thank You for Your advice.
I shall go to see Gabriel."

"Call when You wish to pass through the void again, and
I will come and guide You, Satan," JHVH said.

"I shall. But I don't know how I can repay you."

"I have I trust passed beyond the need for repayment."

Perhaps He had; but Parry intended to repay the debt if he
ever had opportunity. He also intended to learn more of the
Llano, that persuasive and powerful song, so that perhaps he
could travel safely through chaos himself.

Returning to Heaven was no problem; the captive soul guided
him. When they arrived, the soul reformed into the man. "But
this is Heaven!'' he exclaimed.' 'My Lord, I thought You were
going to take me back!"

"I am," Parry replied. "But I am going to make another
attempt to negotiate here. You may remain in My pouch if you
wish, and I will release you when we return to Hell."

"Thank you," the soul said, and thinned to evanescence.
Parry rolled it up again and returned it to his pouch.

Now he needed to locate the Angel Gabriel. From his days
as a friar he remembered mat there were three broad classes
of angels, with Gabriel in me top rank. That was probably in
the Ninth Heaven.

He was about to set off when he saw me guardian angels
approaching again. They evidently recognized him, for they




232 PiersAnthony

looked angry. Well, perhaps they could be of some use to him
this time.

"Take me to your leader," he said to the first.

"Just who do you think you are?" the angel demanded.

"The Incarnation of Evil," Parry replied evenly.

The angel did a double take. "You—how can you be here?
This is Heaven!"

"Heaven is not as well run as it once was," Parry replied.
"Now, are you going to guide me to the Angel Gabriel, or
shall I find him myself?"

"I will have to consult with my superior," the angel said,
disgruntled.

"Do that," Parry said. It was always better to go through
channels, if that was feasible.

The angel's superior was a Dominion, a member of the
intermediate class of angels. "The Incarnation of Evil? Here?
Impossible!"

"Then who the Hell do you suppose I am?" Parry inquired
with a sardonic smile.

In a moment he was before the Dominion's superior, who
was a Seraphim, an angel in the First Circle of the heavenly
hierarchy. He had six wings, which were independently flex-
ible. He also had experience and a realistic approach. "How
quickly can we cause You to depart these demesnes. Incar-
nation?"

"As quickly as you can get me an interview with Gabriel."

The Angel Gabriel was there, drawing a cloak of privacy
about the two of them. "Yes?"

"I want to facilitate me processing of good and evil, so
that needless suffering of souls may be abated," Parry said.
"I attempted to talk with God directly, but he did not re-
spond."

"God is temporarily distracted," Gabriel said.

"I am relatively new to My office. Only a century or so. I
am not yet inured to needless suffering. I am ready to punish
truly evil souls, but not to torment those whose only guilt is
the coincidence of being wrought from the mixed thread of
chaos. There has to be a better way.''

"That would be for God to say."

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         233

"If," Parry continued evenly, "God does not say, then I
shall be forced to take action on my own initiative."

"You have the temerity to threaten God?"

"Offhand I would say that God is not doing his job, and is
due for replacement. I am trying to avoid taking that action
myself, but will take it if you offer no alternative."

"God does not make deals with Lucifer!"

"I am Satan."

Gabriel was too old a hand to call a bluff he was uncertain
of winning. "God may elect to deal with this matter directly
in due course. Suppose, in the interim, we arrange an alter-
native contest?"

This could be interesting. "What do you have in mind?"

"We will designate a single mortal person whose influence
can be critical. If You cannot corrupt that person, or that
person's child or grandchild, to enable You to take power,
You will forever abate Your effort."

Parry made a soundless whistle. "You are not an amateur
at this sort of negotiation!"

Gabriel almost smiled. "I never claimed to be. This would
represent a bloodless way to settle the issue, if that is truly
Your desire. Are You interested?"

Parry pondered. A single mortal person? How could such a
person possibly foil the wiles of the Incarnation of Evil? It was
suspiciously simple. So was Gabriel's use of the capital when
addressing him. There had to be a catch. In fact, it was evident
that this was no spur of the moment deal; Gabriel had come
well prepared. "Who?"

Gabriel waggled an admonishing finger. "I did not say I
would give You that information."

Oho! "When?"

"Nor that."

"Where?"

"Nor that."

The nature of the challenge was becoming clearer. How
could he corrupt a mortal when he had no information about
that mortal's identity? "That is not a wager I care to risk."

Gabriel considered. "Perhaps if we provided one of those
items of information?"

234 Pien Anthony

"Three," Parry said firmly.

"Two."

Parry pondered. "I select the two."

"You select one."

The Angel was a hard bargainer! But the notion of this
challenge had an insidious appeal. Gabriel had said that this
mortal's influence would be critical, and Gabriel's word was
good. That meant that Parry really could win power over God
if he manipulated the situation correctly. It certainly seemed
preferable to allowing me continuing and needless suffering of
a host of mortals.

"Agreed," he said. "Tell me me name."

"Niobe Kaftan."

The name did not register, but of course there were too many
mortal identities for him to remember. He would research it
the moment he returned to Hell. "And me information you
choose to provide?"

"The time," Gabriel said. "That person will come into
mortal existence early in the twentieth century."

"The twentieth century!" Parry exploded. "That's six cen-
turies away!"

Gabriel shrugged. "You did not bargain for a particular
time."

Parry realized that Gabriel had outsmarted him, and thereby
bought six centuries of grace for his Master. He had been
had—but he had to admire me finesse of it. He extended his
hand. "It is not every day that someone outwits the Master of
Deception."

Gabriel took the hand. "I daresay such a day will not soon
come again."

"If you ever stand in need of a position—"

Gabriel smiled. "Perhaps in six centuries."

They had an understanding. Meanwhile, they remained op-
posed.

13

NIOBE

Parry, having been outsmarted by the Angel Gabriel, resigned
himself to several more centuries of the present order and went
about his business. He did not try to take power directly,
because of the covenant made, but he did do his best to find
more efficient ways to evoke the evil that was in mortal folk,
simplifying classification. Ozymandias reorganized Hell, di-
viding it into militaristic segments that were run largely by the
damned souls themselves; thus those souls knew that then-
suffering was largely of their own making. When Ozymandias
began assembling attractive concubines from among me damned
souls, Lilah became restive, and finally Parry took her back,
allowing Nefertiti to take an extended holiday in mock Heaven.
It was nice to be back with Lilah, after this hiatus; she did
know well how to please him.

The world, as it turned out, had one or two additional con-
tinents, and Parry found distraction sowing mischief in the
mortal exploration and colonization of the "New World."
Because the majority of the mortals conducting the colonization
were heretical Christians, this was a singular challenge. Soon
he had them acting just the way the Church had, conducting
witch hunts and martyring their heretics. The Incarnation of

235

236 Piers Anthony

Evil might not have been gaining influence in (he overall scheme,
but certainly he was not losing it either.

The Renaissance arrived, and now Parry saw why Chronos
had asked him to spare Milan from the Black Plague. It was
indeed an artistic and cultural center, and though it spawned
more good than evil, he was glad to see it.

The mortals became more clever at both magic and science,
developing both to far more sophisticated applications than had
occurred in the past. They would soon have seen through the
devices of his mortality; now many mortals possessed similar
competence.

He started an advertising campaign to make Hell seem more
attractive. It remained of course a place of punishment, and
everyone knew that; but it was also the place of expiation for
the evil denned in the souls. It was evident that Heaven was
not the place to expiate evil, so Parry simply established many
levels with diminishing punishment as souls improved. Ac-
tually, after the first soul returned from Heaven with the report
on its appalling dullness, few if any souls wanted to go there.
The truth was that sin, particularly of carnal lust, was far more
interesting than the perpetual smging of hosannas. Mock Heaven
became increasingly populous, so that even those souls that
qualified for release to Heaven preferred to remain. Once he
got things squared away with God, he would send up a ship-
ment; the souls would be less reluctant to go if they could go
together.

He researched diligently, seeking the Llano, the ultimate
song. But his success was imperfect; he was able only to
acquire parts of it. The thing was somehow linked to the very
foundations of the universe, not to be understood by any or-
dinary person.

The centuries passed. Parry went to the furnace and inter-
viewed Lucifer, his predecessor. "Are you ready to serve Me
yet?" he inquired. "Give up your mortal life so that it is no
longer possible for you to be an Incarnation, and I will assign
you to some nefarious chore that takes advantage of your pro-
pensities."

Lucifer was proud; he declined. Parry came again, fifty years

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         237

later; Lucifer declined again. But after several such visits, he
finally relented, realizing that there was no hope of ousting
Parry from the Office. He gave up his mortal life and became
a truly damned soul.

Parry assigned him to sundry tasks, lowly at first. As time
passed and Lucifer demonstrated increasing loyalty and reli-
ability, Parry promoted him to more responsible tasks. The
former Incarnation did have a talent for the business, and was
excellent at evoking the hidden evil of mortals.

In this manner the twentieth century approached. "Lucifer,
watch for the appearance of one mortal named Niobe Kaftan,"
he said. "Her presence will commence the final contest be-
tween Me and God, and I want to have the advantage from
the outset. You will see that it is Mine."

"I shall see that it is Thine," Lucifer agreed.

War had been virtually continuous in the mortal realm, but
now it spread more widely, involving most of the nations of
the world. Mars, the Incarnation of War, was kept quite busy,
and so was Parry. But it was a seemingly minor event relating
to that war that abruptly claimed his complete attention.

Lucifer had found Niobe Kaftan in Ireland. She had come
into existence as that identity when she married a man some
years her junior, Cedric Kaftan, and Lucifer had scrambled to
set up a program of nullification. He didn't bother Parry with
the details, and Parry had been too busy with the war and the
hordes of mixed souls flowing to Hell from that altercation to
inquire.

"You know he botched it," Lilah remarked one day.

"What?"

"Lucifer. He freed a demon from Hell to assassinate her,
and me stupid demon got the wrong person."

"Assassinate whom?"

"Your nemesis. That woman. Niobe."

Now it registered. "How could Lucifer fail? He's experi-
enced!"

"It seems the woman's husband has a friend who's into
magic, and he discovered the plot, and the husband took her
place. I can't think why. So he's gone, and she remains."

238

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         239

PiersAnthmy

Parry got busy. He fired Lucifer from the case as a matter
of principle; failure in a simple mission was not to be tolerated.
Then he went to spy on the young woman. He made himself
invisible and entered the cabin where she dwelt with her baby.

He looked at her, and was stunned by her appearance. She
was the most beautiful woman of her generation! No wonder
the love-struck husband had sacrificed himself for her.

The Angel Gabriel had gained his Master over five hundred
years by this deal. Now Parry understood that it was not close
to ending here; Gabriel was really trying to win the contest.
A woman so lovely that mortal men would gladly throw away
their lives for her—and, indeed. Parry himself did not want
her to die now. Not while her beauty was fresh. It would be

like breaking a priceless vase.

How, then, was he to nullify her impact on the situation?
For she would surely proceed to her mischief against him if

he did not act to prevent it.

But what form would this mischief take? If he could deter-
mine that, then he could formulate a plan to deal with it. There
should be many ways to divert die thrust without actually

hurting her.

He watched her for a time, but she seemed wholly innocent,

merely taking care of herself, her home and her baby boy.
Nothing about her, other than her amazing comeliness, indi-
cated any potential for the defeat of the Incarnation of Evil.
Her appearance would fade with the years.

Perplexed, he returned to Hell. He summoned Mephistoph-
eles, another former Incarnation of Evil. "You are the most
sophisticated and devious of the Lords of Hell," he said. "Fathom
the nature of this woman, the widow Niobe Kaftan, and inform
Me how she can influence the tangled skein of destiny to give

God the victory over Me."

"Gladly, Lord," Mephistopheles said, disappearing.
In due course he was back with his report. "The woman is
more than she seems," Mephistopheles said. "She is of only
ordinary cleverness, and has no particular skill at management,

but is extraordinarily attractive."

"What else is news," Parry said wryly. "For days after I
saw her, her face appeared in my mind every time I closed

my eyes. It put Lilah in a royal snit. But beauty alone no longer
launches a thousand ships."

"I am not so sure. She finagled her way to Parnassus in me
living state and interviewed several Incarnations."

"She whatT'

Mephistopheles smiled. "As You said, she is beautiful. She
set fire to a funeral boat she was on, bringing Thanatos, and
of course he could not take her soul because she was not yet
slated to die. When he saw her—he is after all a man. So he
took her to his mansion and had his staff tend to her bums.
Then Chronos—"

"Chronos is in on this? He's my friend!"

"She must have smiled at him," Mephistopheles said, en-
joying this. "He took her to Pate, who was evidently quite
impressed—"

"What would impress that three-headed hog?" Parry growled.

"I wouldn't know; I can't snoop directly on Incarnations.
Then he took her to War, who recognized her potential. Then
on to Gaea, who told her that her husband had sacrificed himself
in her place because she was destined to make much trouble
for Satan. That was all; they do not seem to know any more
than we do in what manner she will affect You, but they assist
her because of it."

"Most of them have always conspired against Me," Parry
muttered. "But Chronos—he has always been my friend. I
can't understand why he would be involved in this."

"If he is your friend, why don't you ask him?"

' 'I shall.'' Parry conjured himself to Purgatory and knocked
on the door of the mansion of the Incarnation of Time.

Chronos had changed officeholders since the last time Parry
had visited, and this new one was distinctly less friendly than
(he prior ones had been. What had happened?

"Your office and Mine have always gotten along well,"
Parry said. "Have I in some way alienated you, Chronos?"

"You gave me a real workout when I assumed the office,"
Chronos said tightly. "You posed as my friend, but you used
me to achieve your own ends. I had to—but why should I tell
you, and give you another chance to interfere?"

Parry sighed. "I apologize for what I may do in your past,




240             Piers Anthony                                  FOR LOVE OF EVIL

241

my future. Evidently things become very difficult then. For
several centuries I have been friends with the holders of your
office, and I regret learning that has changed."

"It has changed. If that is all—"

"Please, Chronos! Certainly I will leave you alone in the
interim, with regret. Bul I came to ask one question, and if
you would be so kind as to answer that—"

"One question," Chronos said grimly.

' 'Why is the mortal woman Niobe Kaftan important to you?''

"Damn you!" Chronos exclaimed. "Are you trying to tor-
ment me worse?"

"No, no! Remember, I am from the other direction! I do
not at this stage know. I had no intent to—"

Chronos straightened his expression.' 'Of course that is true,
though you are the realm's most consummate liar. I will answer
you, though I curse myself for doing so. Niobe was my lover,
and I miss her—" He was unable to finish.

Astonished, Parry made his way out. He had never known
Chronos to take a mortal lover! Evidently Niobe's widowhood
had made her vulnerable, and the Incarnation had taken ad-
vantage of it despite living in the opposite direction. Now that
she was, by Chronos' reckoning, about to be married, his affair
with her was over, and he was hurting.

The lover of the Incarnation of Time! Now it was easier to
comprehend her significance. Chronos' Hourglass was the most
powerful magical instrument known, and if she were able to
influence him, her mischief could be magnified in ways that
Hell itself could hardly combat! No wonder the friendship
between their two offices had been sundered; a woman had in
her fashion come between them.

What a canny conniver the Angel Gabriel had proved to be!
To select a woman so beautiful that she snared the Incarnation
of Time himself! It was too bad Gabriel had not been in Hell's
employ. Parry had to respect the superior nature of this ploy.

But it had not happened yet. Could he act to prevent the
woman from seducing the Incarnation? This was uncertain,
because of course Pate was on the other side. Parry could pluck
the threads of Fate, but only when she wasn't paying attention;

each Incarnation was supreme in his or her own bailiwick. Fate
would be protecting Niobe, now that they had met; it would
be prohibitively difficult for him to do anything directly.

He had to admire the developing prettiness of this trap.
Gabriel had set him up for as nefarious a situation as any demon
could have devised. Of course angels were but the positive
aspect of demons, formed from ether. Evidently they were not
as different from each other as he had assumed.

Well, there was no help for it now but to go home and wait
for his opportunity. He would have a demon watch Niobe
constantly, and notify him the moment she did anything sig-
nificant. Meanwhile, he would proceed with his normal busi-
ness.

He had to admit that despite the awkwardness of his position,
he was discovering a certain infernal joy in the challenge.
Niobe's beauty was not me least of it; it was much more fun
to corrupt a lovely woman than a plain one.

His first alert came several months later. Niobe, after re-
maining quiescent, had abruptly taken a ship to America for
no apparent reason. She was definitely up to something!

Parry joined her on the ship, watching her constantly. But
she acted quite normally, avoiding the predatory men and re-
maining mostly in her cabin, reading.

Then, abruptly. Fate came to her, in the form of a spider.
And, while Parry spied from cover. Pate took Niobe in as an
Aspect of herself, leaving a prior Aspect of herself in Niobe's
body to complete the voyage.

Niobe had become an Aspect of Fate!

Now Parry understood how she was to become Chronos'
lover! The Incarnations did indulge each other in this manner
on occasion, because they understood each other far better than
any mortal could. Niobe was now the youngest and by far the
prettiest Aspect of Fate, so this duty naturally would fall to
her. He should have realized!

His problem had just been compounded. He knew from his
prior observations that Niobe blamed him for the murder of
her husband. Lucifer had done it, but it was indeed Parry's




242 PwrsAwthany

responsibility, for he had directed Lucifer to nullify Niobe. So
Niobe was his sworn enemy, and now she had enormously
increased power.

Again, he had to admire Gabriel's cunning. At every turn,
(his scheme became more diabolical!

How was he going to do anything about Niobe now? He had
to try, lest he forfeit the contest. He could not touch her phys-
ically; even had she not become invulnerable as an Incarnation,
the two wiser other Aspects of Fate that shared her body would
have protected her. He needed to get her alone, and that was
impossible.

Except for one occasion. Fate had to go to the Void to fetch
the substance for the threads of Life. Clotho, the youngest,
was the spinner of the threads; it was always her task to fetch
the substance.

Parry knew what the Void was like! He knew that very few
could ever face it, let alone negotiate within it. Only the Aspect
of Clotho could do it, not me other two.

That was where he could approach her alone. That was where
he could corrupt her—if he was ever to do it. Perhaps he would
fail, but he had to try.

When the new Clotho made her maiden excursion to the
Void, Parry followed her. He knew better than to enter that
region of chaos without some kind of guide, but in this case,
Niobe was his guide. He would stay with her until she emerged,
perforce.

She began at the edge of Purgatory, where a road led toward
the strange region beyond. Parry had not realized that chaos
could be approached by a road! He followed, invisible and
silent; he wanted to be sure she was alone, without her two
companion Aspects, before he addressed her.

The road became a path, and the path wended through a
thick forest. She spoke once, as if reflecting on something she
had heard. "The Incarnation of War, and of Nature. I wonder
what business they have here?"

What business indeed! Perhaps Mars sought the raw stuff
of violence here, and Gaea the stuff of nature. So they had
made a path. But he was sure that they did not go all the way
into chaos.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         243

The forest became so thick and the trees so large that the
path was hopelessly squeezed and the light was almost cut
off. Now Parry saw that Niobe was trailing a thread. That
was how she intended to find her way out—by following her
thread back! It was a secure device, for no one but her fellow
Aspect Atropos could cut that thread of Life. Not when Fate
was paying attention. Lucifer had had to fudge the records
in Purgatory to arrange for me death of Niobe—and even
then, the ploy had gone wrong, taking out the wrong person
and complicating Parry's challenge. It was dangerous to mess
with Fate.

Niobe squeezed through the densest part of the forest, and
Parry followed, having less difficulty because he was able to
change his form. He became an invisible bird, flitting through
crevices too narrow for his human form. Had Niobe not been
an extremely slender figure overall, she would not have made
it. Or was it that the path somehow accommodated her con-
tours, which were by no means minor, so that she alone could
pass?

Now the forest thinned, but the trees were misshaped and
miscolored. Chaos was drawing nigh.

He followed her on through a region of vertigo, a pinwheel
path. Then the path become a stream. Niobe hesitated, then
removed her yellow cloak, laid it down, and sat on it, forming
a floating craft of it. She was now in her underwear, and the
contours that had been only hinted at before became fully
evident. What a creature she was! He could have stared at her
for a decade, while jealous fumes rose from Lilah.

That gave him a notion of how to corrupt her. He knew that
she was to become Chronos' lover—lucky Chronos!—and that
she was presently a widow and conservative about her rela-
tionship with any other man. If he played upon that situation,
stressing the sordid interpretation, he might turn her off it
before it started. She might even resign her office within the
trial period. That would certainly foil much of Gabriel's plan
for her.

Niobe floated out into the center of the Void, where Parry
did not dare go. He was afraid he would get lost despite being
near her, and did not care to risk it. JHVH would probably

244                Piers Anthony

rescue him again if he called, but he preferred not to impose
on the Deity of the Jews again if he could avoid it.

The woman seemed to spend an eternity there, gathering the
substance of chaos into her craft. She, alone of all, could spin
chaos into thread. At last she emerged, hauling herself along

by the thread she had played out behind.

As she came to the solid portion of the path. Parry knew it
was time for him to act. He did not like what he had to do,
but certainly it would be better to nullify the woman this way

than Lucifer's way.

He made himself visible. "Hi, babe."
Niobe jumped. She caught sight of him, and stood appalled.

"I hate you!" she cried.
Parry laughed, getting into the role. "Of course you do, you

lovely creature."                                       ]
' 'You killed my husband!'' she flared. Oh, she was as lovely I

in her anger as in her confusion!

He saw that he could, by the mechanism of judicious inter-
pretation, use her very grief for her husband to turn her away

from the other Incarnations.
First he explained about the nature of the substance of chaos:

good and evil inextricably mixed, so mat the whole of the
process of mortal living was required to define and separate
the two. He made sure to refer frequently to her appearance,
calling her "sweets" and "sugar" and "delicious" and "lus-
cious plum" so as to prepare her for the denouement. The
irony was that it was true; she was me most delectable mortal
creature he had encountered, though she was now immortal.
He was using the terms for a purpose, but each time he did,
it reminded him of the truth of it. Niobe really was not his
type, but even so, her beauty smote him with increasing force.
She was appropriately appalled. "All life is just a laboratory

to classify the substance of the Void?"

"Indeed. Beautiful, isn't it? Just like you, cutie," If only
his words were not so true! He wished he were not her antag-
onist, so that he could—what? Use this Aspect of Fate as

Chronos would? No chance of that!
No chance? Suddenly he realized that this could be another

aspect of Gabriel's ploy. To cause the Incarnation of Evil

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         MS

himself to be smitten by one of the Incarnations on God's side!
That would surely destroy his effectiveness in opposing God!
It was insidiously clever: Gabriel had made sure that Parry
would take a personal interest in this woman, so as to discover
how to nullify her, knowing mat Parry had always had an eye
for the fairest of female forms. That he had grown inevitably
tired of the knowledgeability ofdemonesses and damned souls,
and found true innocence appealing. Niobe was perfectly cast
to appeal to him!

Parry steeled himself and proceeded to the necessary finale.
"The Incarnations are human, doll," he said. "They have
human ambitions, weaknesses and lusts."

She reacted beautifully, in the various senses of the word.
"Lusts! What are you talking about?"

"I'm so glad you asked, precious.'' He went on to introduce
the notion of Chronos' need for a lovely young female Incar-
nation. She continued to react with ideal horror. On one level
he hated what he was doing, but on another he liked it, because
it was all too easy to imagine himself in Chronos' position.
"You see, honeypot, we Incarnations have to get along with
each other. We are not antagonists; we must cooperate. Chronos
can be awkward, because he lives backward, but in this respect
he is typically human."

"I can't believe that!"

"You may verify it very simply, roundheels," he said cruelly.
"Ask Chronos. He remembers."

She was appalled, but beginning to believe. Now he pro-
ceeded to the lie, his specialty. He explained how the Incar-
nations could have cooperated to eliminate Niobe's mortal
husband, so that the most beautiful of mortal women could
become an Incarnation and satisfy Chronos' lust. "I suggest
you relax and enjoy it, toots," he concluded.

"Relax, hell!" she screamed, forgetting her innocence enough
to utter that foul word.

He smiled. "Exactly." He had really gotten through to her;

she was now ready to kill Chronos.

He added one more detail, unable to resist. He assumed me
likeness of her departed husband.

She recognized it, and screamed incoherently at him.

246

Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 247

"Shall I kiss you, sweetlips?" he inquired. "I, too, find
you desirable, and can make you forget—"

She struck at him with her distaff. "Get out! Get out!"

Parry resumed his normal form. "Another time, perhaps,
when you have been suitably broken in." That was the final
fillip; she would remember it me moment she saw Chronos.
First the Lord of Time, then the Lord of Evil.

He faded out, leaving her sobbing with grief and outrage.
He watched long enough to be sure she had not been feigning.

He left her, satisfied that he had done what he could. But
somehow he had no joy in this operation. He hated to do this
to such a lovely young woman, and he was sorry to do it to
Chronos, whose other officeholders had been his only friends
among the Incarnations. But mostly he was ashamed of the
fact that he had been striking as much at his own sensitivities
as at hers; he really did find her desirable, and hated the ne-
cessity of treating such a creature with such contempt.

But the treatment was not effective, almost to his relief. The
other Aspects of Fate managed to talk Niobe around, and she
proceeded to have the affair with Chronos. She opposed Satan
implacably, and he could hardly blame her. His effort to turn
her off Chronos had been a double-or-nothing gesture; he had
known that if it proved unsuccessful, all her anger would focus

on him, Satan.

But her tenure as Clotho did not seem to alter that balance
of good and evil in the mortal world significantly. Parry was
unable to make real progress, but he did fend off the mischief
of the other Incarnations. The standoff that had existed for

centuries continued.

Mephistopheles continued to watch, however, for me mis-
chief had three generations to run. Perhaps it was not Niobe
but her son or his offspring that would prove to be the key.

That son grew up to be a magician of surprising potential.
But he was unmarried. If he died without issue, that would
end the matter, for as long as Niobe remained an Incarnation
she could not have another child. Incarnations were frozen at
the age they entered the office unless, as in his own case, they
had the wit to choose to settle in at another age. Lilah had

known, and given him the clue at the outset. But whatever the
physical age, their inability to change meant sterility, for the
process of gestation was an aspect of aging.

Then the magician son decided to marry his cousin Blenda,
who was another mortal of Niobe's stripe: the most beautiful
other generation. Mephistopheles informed Parry the moment
the engagement was made.

"Take him out," Parry said curtly. He did not like such
business, but he could not afford to have that third generation
launched.

' 'I shall have to free a demon to the mortal realm, my Lord,''
Mephistopheles said.

That was a complicated business; demons were hard to free
for even a few hours, and the prospects were limited. But this
was critical. "Do it."

Mephistopheles faded out with a smile; he liked dirty busi-
ness.

But again destiny proved to be difficult to balk. The ploy
misfired, and instead of the magician or his bride it was me
bride's mother the demon killed. Gabriel's ploy continued, and
Niobe was, if anything, even more implacably set against Sa-
tan.

Niobe continued to be a nuisance. She tried to save a Senator
Parry had marked for extinction, and succeeded in that; Parry
was, however, able to salvage the situation by destroying the
Senator's reputation instead.

Then, abruptly, Niobe decided to step down from office.
"What?" Parry demanded, astonished. "How can she interfere
with Me if she steps down?"

"She can bear another child," Lilah said darkly.

That would do it! "Find out about this," he snapped.

Lilah vanished. Soon enough she was back with her report.
"She plans to marry her husband's cousin Pacian, who has the
magic music."

"Music?"

"I thought mat would perk Your ears, my Lord! Yes, he
does not sing as well as You, but his magic enhances it so that
(he effect can be as great."




248                Piers Anthony

There was a certain malice in her remark that annoyed him,
but he kept it reined. He was getting somewhat tired of Lilah's
mannerisms, though she remained has most effective sexual
partner. One of these decades he would have to send her away
on a long assignment so he could have a turn at some fresher

female. "Is that all?"

"Plenty more, my Lord. There is a set of prophecies in her

possession. It seems that when she was new in office, and still
attached to her son, she prevailed on Atropos to pose as a

grandmotherly figure and—"

"Atropos!" he interrupted. "The senior Aspect of Fate?

She cuts the threads of Life. Some grandmother!"

"Yes, my Lord. But Atropos took me little boy and his
cousin Pacian to two seers who happened to be competent, and
asked the same question of each: Whom were the two boys to
marry, and what would become of their children?"

"That is of interest to Me," Parry agreed. "Why was I not

advised before?"
"The demon that Mephistopheles assigned to spy on them

did not realize that the prophecies were valid. Most seers are
impostors, making up items to please the clients. So it was
only now, when I investigated, that I recognized these proph-
ecies for what they are: sendings from Gabriel. The Angel was
giving Niobe a hint of the destiny of her line."

"In such a way that it bypassed the demon," Parry said

with grudging admiration. "Continue."

The first seer said, and I quote, 'Each to possess the most
beautiful woman of her generation, who will bear him the most
talented daughter of her type. Both daughters to stand athwart
the tangled skein, and one may marry Death and the other

Evil.' "

Parry's jaw dropped.

"The other seer said, and I quote again, 'One to be savior
of deer, his child savior of man; other to love an Incarnation,
his child to be one. But the skein is tangled.' More she would

not say."
Parry found his voice. "And Niobe's son, the magician,

did marry Pacian's daughter Blenda, the most beautiful
woman of her generation. Now Pacian, a widower, is mar-

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         249

rying Niobe herself, the most beautiful woman of her gen-
eration."

"As I said, my Lord, they were true prophecies. So it seems
there will be two daughters, highly talented, and one may marry
Thanatos—"

"And the other may marry Me!" Parry finished. "How can
this be? I will never marry again!"

"Not while I'm with You," Lilah agreed darkly. "But there
is a lot of leeway in that word may, my Lord."

"Not enough leeway! This complicates the plot considera-
bly!"

"The girls will stand athwart a tangled skein,'' Lilah agreed.
"One to save man, the other to be an Incarnation."

"The daughter of the man who loves an Incarnation," Parry
agreed. "That would be Pacian. I must watch out for his
daughter."

"And for the other girl," she reminded him. "She is the
one who will save man—which means You will lose."

"I must be rid of both of them!" Parry snapped. "One is
Niobe's daughter, me other her granddaughter."

"But each time You have tried to take out one of that line,
You have failed. In fact, it was the last failure that caused
Pacian to become a widower, so that now Niobe can marry
him. You played into God's hands!"

Parry definitely did not like her attitude. She was enjoying
this, in her covert way. "I shall be paying closer attention
henceforth," he said darkly. "This contest is not yet done."
Still, he heeded the warning of experience; with the amount
of attention that was focusing on this matter, it would be ex-
traordinarily difficult to eliminate those girls. He would have
to try other methods first, defusing this matter in some more
devious and effective manner.

His first chance was to prevent at least one of the girls from
coming into existence. Therefore the next time Niobe went to
gather chaos from the Void, he intercepted her. That was the
one place she had to listen to him, because her other Aspects
were damped out and she was alone.

"So you are quitting, cutie," he said, as if it were of no
account.




250                Piers Anthony

"Go to Hell," she snapped back.

He tried to suggest to her that he was glad she was departing
the office, but she was now too canny to be deceived. "I am
fated to produce a mortal child who will be a real pain in the

tail for you."
He could not fool her and, oddly, he found he did not want

to. She had fought him for decades, and he had admired her
for the same period. He decided to talk seriously. "There are
currents of destiny that perhaps only God comprehends. Our
glimpses of the future are fleeting and imperfect, but I have
taken a reading on your daughter and see only a terrible storm
perhaps forty years hence. I do not know the outcome."

"And one may marry Death, the other Evil," she said,

recalling die prophecy.

"Why should I ever bind Myself to a mortal woman?" he

demanded with genuine ire. Yet he knew that had Niobe herself
been interested, in her youth, he would have been sorely tempted.
But she had die answer. "She is to be an Incarnation."
"And what woman, whether mortal or Incarnation, would
ever bind herself to Me?" There was a second level to that
question, because of their past interaction. Even at this stage,
if Niobe were to change her mind about him as a man . . .
"Only an evil one," Niobe said. She looked no happier

about it than he felt.

"You are indeed a good woman, as well as a lovely one,"

he said with feeling. "Yet the prophecy—"

"Satan, what are you getting at?"

Now he spoke straight from the heart. "Niobe, there is a
tangle coming in your skein that neither of us understands.
Something strange is brewing. Let's avoid me whole issue,
and oppose each other on conventional grounds. Keep your
present office, 0 lovely woman! Do not generate mat child."

"You're crazy!"
"No, I am evil, not crazy. You know Me—" he tried to

stop himself, but was carried away by a surge of emotion.
' 'Therefore you will not do for Me what you did for Chronos.''
She stared at him. "You—desire my favor?"
"I do desire it." He had not realized it fully until this
moment. Perhaps Lilah had, though; that would account for

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         251

her creeping atienation. She tolerated his affairs with damned
souls, but she realized that his love of an Incarnation, partic-
ularly mis one, was mischief indeed.

"You will never have it!" Niobe said.

"That I know," he said heavily. "Still, I wish you would
remain in office."

She laughed in his face.

Now sudden wrath overcame him. He had spoken truth to
her, and she had rejected it. That was the humiliation that stung
worst! "Then feel the brunt of My wrath!" he cried. "And
your child will suffer too. You and yours will rue this hour!"
He departed.

He had made a terrific fool of himself, he knew. He had
been blinded by the beauty of his opponent, and allowed his
true emotion to surface. Now he was in worse trouble than
ever.

More than a decade later. Parry's attention was called to
Niobe again. He had not bothered with her in me interim,
because her nuisance of a magician son had crafted spells to
protect her and the children, and the magician knew what he
was doing. But now she was taking the two girls into the Hall
of the Mountain King to obtain me gifts of instruments mat
would greatly enhance their powers. He had to prevent mat!

He sent a demon to trigger me Mountain King's defenses,
so that the gifts could not be removed from the premises. The
demon performed, but the Mountain King himself investigated,
and as Fate would have it, he recognized Niobe from her period
as an Aspect and let me gifts go. It seemed impossible to
impede the progress of this juggernaut!

But he continued with me routine business of his office,
evoking evil wherever he could. One of the mortal organiza-
tions that interfered with his activities was me United Nations.
He had succeeded in corrupting aspects of it, but the main part
still stood for decency and order in die world, and so remained
a problem. He worked out a plan to detonate a psychic stink
bomb at its headquarters mat would cause die organization to
be expelled from America and moved to a hostile country. That
would blunt its effectiveness.




252 Piers Anthony

Naturally Fate meddled in. He was ready far that. He had
arranged irresistible situations that caused all three Aspects to
retire at almost the same time, so that Fate was a complete
novice at the moment. By the time the new officeholders be-
came experienced and canny, he would have won a major coup.
He still hoped to gain a sufficient advantage of the inattentive
God before the skein Niobe had started ran its full course; then
that skein would become irrelevant.

Then, at last, he would be able to take control, and com-
mence a more efficient and gentle program for defining the
universe. The need was becoming more pressing, for in these
centuries of God's dereliction mankind was getting rapidly into
more trouble. Population was exploding, and the world was
getting polluted, and the threat of a holocaustic war was in-
creasing. Someone had to act to abate the situation before
everything accomplished in thousands of years was destroyed.

Just to be sure that Pate did not muddle through to a victory,
he arranged to have false data inserted in the Purgatory com-
puter. The computer was a modernistic science device that now
kept track of the numbers and identities of souls being pro-
cessed. If the new Fate queried it, she would be sent on a
spurious chase. The old Fate would never have been fooled,
but the new one should be vulnerable.

All followed through as planned. He could not resist taunting
Pate as the denouement of this ploy approached. She had just
ventured, in the form of Lachesis, the middle-aged Aspect,
into the sample Hell he had instituted on earth as part of his
advertising campaign. She had with Gaea's assistance disa-
bused one of the employees there, which annoyed him. So he
broached her personally, assuming the standard Satan form,
which was one of the regular alternates he used when on official
business.

"So now you have nullified the last of the four threads, you
meddling frump," he said nastily. "You think you have won."

"Evil is never truly defeated," Lachesis said grimly.

Not if I have My way, he thought. The irony was that though
he wore the name of Evil, he was trying to do what was right;

it was that God these others served who was negligent. But of
course none of them would believe that. Then he told her about

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         253

the manner in which he had interfered with the Purgatory Com-
puter, causing it to seem to list only selected threads.

"The penalty of being a novice," she muttered ruefully. "I
feel very stupid."

"Merely inexperienced," he told her. There was an odd
familarity about her, but probably that was because he had
dealt with so many mortals, and so many Incarnations, too; at
some time in the past six centuries he had probably encountered
someone like her. Then he realized that he might be able to
gain an even greater advantage from mis, playing further on
her inexperience. "I can offer you a better deal."

"You're not to be trusted!"

"Don't depend on trust; depend on common sense. Some-
times what seems good turns out evil in the long run, like the
Inquisition." Indeed, he had helped start that, working for
God, and then as Satan had succeeded in perverting it to a
potent instrument for evil, especially in Spain. "Sometimes
what seems evil turns out good, like the Black Plague." That
had been his pride, but he discovered too late that the deci-
mation of the labor force which it had accomplished led to a
premium on serfs and paved the way for the end of the re-
pressive feudal system. Thus he had accomplished little if any
lasting evil, in the sense that he gained no greater proportion
of souls for Hell than he might have had he never made the
effort. That had taught him caution. Thus he had no abiding
commitment to this United Nations mischief; it was mainly a
challenge, to discommode Fate.

"What's your pitch, Satan?" she asked with more alertness
than he liked.

"I will cancel me psychic stink in exchange for a simple
shift in employment for one person. No harm done to her, no
evil on her soul, just an inconsequential change." Would she
fall for it? No reason why she shouldn't, yet his fortune in this
particular matter had been so bad that he hardly trusted it now.

"Who is this person?"

She was nibbling! "A young woman, hardly more than a
girl, of no consequence, really."

"So you say. Name the woman."

Here was the tricky part. He knew exactly whom he meant,

254

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         255

Piers Anthony

but could not afford to make it seem important. There were
two girls who looked like twins but were actually a generation
apart. One was Orb Kaftan, Niobe's daughter, with buckwheat-
honey hair, who might marry Evil. Of course that qualification
destroyed the validity of the prophecy; anything might happen!
The other was Luna Kaftan, Niobe's granddaughter, with the
chestnut-brown hair. She was the dangerous one. But she was
now protected by Thanatos, who was evidently smitten by her
sex appeal; Parry could not touch her directly.

"Oh, she's named Moon, or some such," he said carelessly.
"It hardly matters." And what a lie that was! If he could
nullify Luna, he could defuse the final aspect of Gabriel's ploy.
"She's actually descended from a former Incarnation.  .
Name's—let me see—Kaftan. There are actually two girls,  |
but I want the one with the darker hair."

She was silent, considering this. If she caught on, me ploy
was finished—but why should she? She could hardly know
the daughters of a former Incarnation, so early in her own
career in the office.

"You're up to something," she said at last.

She was biting! "My dear associate, there is no call to trust
Me! You can handle it yourself! Simply give me your word
that if no bomb goes off at the UN, you will modify the girl's
thread to shunt her away from politics."

"No harm will come to the girl?"

' 'I promise never to harm the girl whose thread you change.''

"But your promise is worthless!"

"My word is sacred when properly given." Indeed, though
he was the Father of Lies, he had never broken his given word.
The same could hardly be said of the mortals who had accepted
his gifts in exchange for their souls; they had used any cheap
device to weasel out, after using up the gifts.

They made an oath in blood, and it was done. Victory! He
had nullifed Luna, for it was in politics she had been destined
to thwart his last design. He had been unable to fight the devious
threads of Fate before, but this change was to be made by Fate
herself; this one would be secure. Lachesis agreed to divert
the thread of the darker-haired descendent of Niobe Kaftan.

When it was done, he told her how his side of the deal was
academic anyway, because Chronos had acted to notify the
UN security force about the bomb.

"You know mat?" she cried, outraged. "You cheated!"

"Hardly. I agreed to spare the UN, and Niobe's nonpolitical
offspring. They will be spared." Then he remembered some-
thing: Lachesis had been the first to name Niobe—when he
had not. He had been very careful about that, referring only
to "a former Incarnation."

Then he made the connection. That seeming familiarity—
This was Niobe! Older, no longer as attractive physically, but
definitely her. No longer Clotho, but Lachesis!

"I will see that my mortal daughter, Orb, never enters pol-
itics," she said sweetly. "An oath is an oath."

"Orb? I meant Luna!"

"Luna was bom with clover-honey hair, the lighter of the
two. Were you not aware of that, Satan?"

He had not been. He had never examined the girls personally
before Luna came to America, but had depended on reports.
Luna's hair, evidently, had been dyed. He had fallen for the
reversal.

"You came back—to deceive Me!" She only smiled.

He had been suckered after all! He had admire the cleverness
of the countertrap. Niobe was really paying him back for the
death of her husband! All he could do now was bow out with
grace. "I congratulate you, Niobe, on an excellent counter-
ploy."

"That is a compliment indeed, coming from you."

"But now I know you, and I shall not be deceived again.
There are other ways." He conjured himself away.

There were indeed other ways. He discovered Niobe's son,
the magician, had managed to distort the readout on the balance
of good and evil on his soul, so that he was in Purgatory. He
belonged in Hell. Parry claimed him now, quite legitimately,
and put him in the fires. Then, by some intricate maneuvering,
he destroyed the message the magician had left for his daughter:

how to enable Fate to prevail against Satan in future encounters.




256 Piers Anthony

Had she learned that. Parry would have been powerless against
Pate; as it was, he could continue trying to confound her, and
perhaps would yet succeed in nullifying Luna.

Then Niobe came to him again, and made another deal: she
put her own soul on the line in exchange for the chance to
locate her son in Hell and get the information from him. This
he could not decline. To have a chance to obtain Niobe's soul
in Hell, subject to his will—that was the absolute stuff of
dreams! He would require her to assume the form of her youth.
He would not mistreat her, he would love her, and perhaps in
time she would come to return the favor.

Mars supervised the encounter so that it was fair—and once
again Niobe won through and got what she had come for. She
had defeated him yet another time.

Yet, somehow, Parry didn't mind. He still held the image
of Niobe in his mind, as she had been in her luscious youth.
Had he won her soul, he could have ravished her hourly. But
he knew that would have been a poor substitute for her inde-
pendent love. He was satisfied to have her escape. The feeling
he had for her had never really died.

14

MARS

The business with Niobe overlapped a more serious matter,
which was one reason why he misplayed Pate. Perhaps that,
too, had been planned by Gabriel: all the most difficult matters
coming together.

This other business involved me Incarnation of War, Mars.
The current officeholder had made himself expert in every form
of battlecraft, and was truly competent in fomenting hostilities.
He sided with God, but actually did Satan about as much good,
because of the inevitable stress and suffering engendered by
warfare. Refugees from a bombing, deprived of their homes,
livelihoods and families, were often thrown into bare survival
situations where ethics and decency were unrealistic. Evil nour-
ished there, and souls were quickly tarnished to their maximum
potential. Mars liked to believe that he was serving God by
overthrowing tyrannies, but his methods fashioned gardens in
which new tyrannies sprouted avidly. He, like God, had lost
sight of the true nature of me doctrine of ends and means.

So it was in this particular sequence. A major war in Europe
expanded to include nations in other continents, and its after-
math left such desolation mat the people were ready to grasp
at anything that promised improvement. There were revolutions

257




258 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 259

that sprang theoretically from the roots of the common folk,
but that succeeded only in installing yet more repressive re-
gimes. One such occurred in the Russian states, and great was
the carnage thereof; another occurred in the remnant of die
Holy Roman Empire, now called Germany.

At first Parry encouraged the new order in Germany, for it
brought some truly ugly characters to me fore, excellent in
evoking what evil lurked in the populace. But then this took
a turn he should have anticipated: persecution of minorities.
Parry had never had much sympathy for that, since the Albi-
gensian crusade in France that cost him his wife. He withdrew
his support.

It was too late. Mortals could be tenacious once embarked
on folly. The persecution of Jews and Gypsies intensified.
When the next big war erupted, these minorities were herded
into camps, their properties confiscated, their bodies given over
to forced labor. It was like the Inquisition, only more system-
atic.

Then the killing began.

JHVH appeared in Hell. Parry welcomed him in a private
interview. The Diety of the Hebrews seemed emaciated; he
had not been doing well. It hurt Parry to see this, for JHVH
had been his closest approach to a friend, apart from Chronos
in the old days.

' 'I simply lack the power to protect My people from Yours,"
JHVH said. "I ask whether You will consider making a change.
I must confess that I went first to God, but he would not see
Me."

"He will not see anyone," Parry said. "He is rapt in the
contemplation of His own image, while His people go wrong.
Were it not for some expert management by his lieutenant, the
Angel Gabriel, I would have had the advantage of him by
now."

"So I come to You, Satan, knowing that though You rep-
resent Evil, You are no supporter of pointless suffering. My
people are not Yours; their corruption by circumstance does
not aggrandize You, it only diminishes Me."

"I know that," Parry said. "I have no onus against Your
people, and I do remember Your kindness to me in the past.

I have already withdrawn my support for that regime, but have
been unable to turn it aside."

"I thought perhaps You could prevail on Your associates,
the other Incarnations of Your framework, one of whom is
War."

Parry sighed. "I have never gotten along well with Mars.
But I will try. I will do what I can to help Your people."

"I thank you, Satan." JHVH departed.

Parry went to me Castle of War in Purgatory. Mars was not
there; he was evidently supervising combat somewhere in the
mortal realm.

He went again, a few days later. And again. Mars was never
there. Finally he located Mars in the field and went there.

It was not actually a battle, but a battle line. It was called
the Maginot Line, constructed by France to fend off Germany.
But Germany was in the process of going around it. "Never-
theless," Mars said with an expansive gesture, "this line is
penetrable. A fortification is only as good as the personnel who
man it and the officers who direct it. The Great Wall of China
never stopped a serious invasion; the steppe warriors simply
bribed me gatekeepers to let them through and proceeded with-
out hindrance. This line was built to me specifications of the
last war, and is relatively ineffective against the mechanization
of this one. That is me chronic folly of mortal generals."

"I come about a different matter," Parry said cautiously.

Mars glanced at him. "Why should I care what you came
about, Satan? I have no use for you."

Still the same old arrogance! "The proprietors of Germany
are maltreating certain minorities. I would prefer to spare those
minorities. If you would—"

Mars laughed. "Do you think I'm fool enough to listen to
you, Father of Lies? If you say you want someone spared, sure
as Hell it's to corrupt three others! Get thee away from me,
old Scrotch!"

Parry realized it was hopeless. Mars would not listen, and
if he did, he was apt to do the opposite of what Parry asked.
He was arrogant in his power, and careless of the proprieties.

But if Mars would not listen to reason, perhaps he would
accede to self-interest. "Suppose I make you a deal?"




260 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE Of EVIL 261

Mars suggested that he do something impolite to himseif.

"Lilah," Parry said.

Instantly the demoness was there, stunningly attired.

"This is one of My creatures," Parry said. "She does My
bidding, always. I will assign her to you for the duration, if
you will grant the favor I ask."

Mars looked at Lilah. He was a lusty man, and she was the
precise figure that evoked the maximum response in such a
man. She smiled at him just as if she cared.

"I'll make no deals with you," Mars muttered. But his gaze
remained on Lilah.

"I will leave her with you for a time," Parry said. "When
you wish, ask her the nature of the favor I want, and she will
tell you."

"A man doesn't need to talk to a creature like that," Mars
said. "You're wasting your time, Scrotch." Still his eyes were
locked on the target.

Parry left, hoping that the man's curiosity would surface
after he had sated his lusts. Lilah was very good at her business;

if she could persuade him to divert the hostilities, or reshape
them in such a way that me minorities would suffer less . . .

Time passed, and the carnage only got worse. Now they
were burning Jews and Gypsies in great ovens, and system-
atically eradicating them from the continent.

Parry visited the Castle of War again. Mars was out, as
usual, but Lilah was there. "He never asked," she said. "How
much longer must I tolerate this lout? He has appetites that
would make a mortal girl nauseous."

Never even asked? Parry realized that his ploy had been
wasted. Mars simply didn't care. He would accept the gifts of
Hell, but give nothing in return. Parry had merely lost time,
and done his friend JHVH no favor.

"Tell him anyway, next time," he said.

He departed, broodingly angry. If he ever found a way to
get Mars retired, he would gladly do so. But the Incarnation
of War retired only when there was complete peace on Earth,
and that was seldom. Certainly it was impossible at the mo-
ment.

More time passed. The war progressed, and the Axis forces
were losing. But the slaughter of minorities only intensified.

Parry went again to the Castle of War. "He wouldn't listen,"
Lilah said. "He told me I was here for only one reason, and
words were no part of it."

Parry had had enough.' 'You are relieved of this duty. Return
to Hell."

She was gone so fast there was a pop in the air where she
had been. Certainly she had not liked this tour!

What was he to do now? The ploy had failed, and most of
the Jews and Gypsies were dead. Though the war was drawing
to a close, there was no sign of abatement of the peripheral
conflicts. It might be decades before this Mars was retired.

Parry realized that at this stage he had only one alternative.
He would have to go to Chronos.

The officeholders of Time had changed frequently, because
each was limited by the duration of his mortal life prior to his
ascension to me office. But all now were hostile to him, and
this one especially so. Parry could not think what had set the
man off; something must have happened in the future to enrage
him with the Incarnation of Evil. This made dealing difficult.
But most had the same problem Mars had, only worse: no
suitable women.

He couldn't assign Lilah again, for Chronos lived backward,
and he would have had to assign her years ago. The only way
she could be with Chronos at this point was if she remained
continuously in his mansion, living backward with him. How
would that affect her stay with Mars? Parry feared that some
kind of paradox would be evoked. Anyway, she deserved a
rest; she had done as well as she could in a difficult situation.

What else, then?

He pondered for some time, stumped. Then at last it came
to him: he would have to tell Chronos the truth—but in a
way mat would make the Incarnation react as Parry wanted.
This would, incidentally, account for Chronos' attitude to-
ward him.

He sent demons out to prepare his materials. Then he brought
his package to Chronos.




262 Piers Anthony

"What brings you here. Master of Evil?" Chronos inquired
coldly.

"Oh, I had some spare time, so I thought I'd gloat a bit,"
Parry said airily. He was into the lie already.

"Gloat somewhere else. I am trying to be civil, even to
you."

"I want to show you me pointiessness of trying to oppose
Me," Parry said nastily. "You control time, but you cannot
eliminate the evil I have done among the mortals. Shall I
present chapter and verse?"

"Merely present your backside as you depart!" Chronos
snapped.

"Naturally you do not wish to know; mat frees you of the
onus of being unable to prevent it."

That stung the man. "Why should I listen to your lies?"

"Because when I gloat, I don't lie. My accomplishments
are real; My lying is only a means to the end of incalculable
evil. I can prove everything—if you have the stomach to admit
your defeat."

Chronos was hooked. "What defeat?"

"Well, for example, me supposed victory of me forces of
good in the recent war. You idiots with God suppose that the
elimination of the Nazis makes everything perfect, but mere
is no way you can undo me evil they did in passing. There
will soon be other calamities, as new factions are spawned and
quarrel; the termination of the Nazis is only the abolition of a
name, not the substance. But those who are already dead can
never be revived; that evil is permanent. Thus you, with your
vaunted Hourglass, are helpless against Me, and I shall inev-
itably prevail against your indifferent God. That is your real
defeat."

Chronos was visibly suppressing his rage. "What dead?
Soldiers in war expect to die; this is unfortunate but not nec-
essarily evil. Many of them go to Heaven, not to Hell."

"These dead," Pany said. He opened his briefcase and
produced pictures of piles of corpses. "Noncombatants. Men,
women, children. Civilians who did nothing to deserve this
fate—but here they are, irrefutably and awfully dead. What
does your kind say to mat?"

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         263

Chronos stared at the pictures. They were truly horrible;

Parry's minions had obtained the most effective available. They
showed every stage of the holocaust against the Jews and Gyp-
sies in hideous detail. There was no way to doubt them; they
were completely real and almost tangibly evil.

"Practically every Jew in Europe," Parry said with feigned
satisfaction. "And every Gypsy too. Do you know about the
Gypsies? They are named that because they claimed to have
come to the west via Egypt, but actually they came through
Romania and are better called Romani. In any event, they live
a simple life, always on the move, entertaining sedentary folk,
blacksmithing, playing music, dancing and stealing. You might
think the stealing makes them Mine, but they do it from ne-
cessity because of their poverty. The balance on their souls is
positive. But now they are all dead, and there will be no more
positive souls generated among them, which gives Me the long-
term advantage. It is the same story with the Jews; their ex-
tinction diminishes their God, JHVH, and so benefits Me.
Meanwhile, the evil accruing to the souls of those who have
destroyed these two peoples benefits Me, because—"

"Get out!" Chronos shouted, livid. He smashed his hand
through the presented pictures, knocking them to the floor.

"Scream all you want," Parry said evenly. "You have lost,
despite your powers. You cannot deny it. There is nothing you
can do. Nothing!"

Chronos charged him, but Parry conjured himself away.

His stomach was knotted, but he had done what he had come
to do. He had really brought the disaster home to Chronos,
and repeatedly taunted him with his supposed impotence. Now
he would discover whether this savage and desperate ploy had
been effective. For Chronos lived backward; he would in due
course be at the onset of the European disaster. If his rage at
Satan carried through . . .

He returned to Hell and summoned Lilah. "I regret the duty
I assigned you with Mars," he said. "It was ineffective, and
no pleasure for you. I am sorry that you and I have grown
apart, and would make some amends if you are willing."

"My Lord, what are You talking about?" she asked, per-
plexed. "I have not been with the current Mars."

264 Piers Anthony

"Demoness, don't try to lie to Me!" he snapped. "You
may be angry, but I am trying to make it right."

"My Lord, I never lie except on direct order from You, and
never to You. Are You teasing me?"

Something was wrong. "Are you telling me you did not
perform the duty with Mars I assigned you to?"

"You made no such assignment! I would have obeyed if
You had, though I much prefer Your company."

A distant thought nagged him. Was it possible?

"Lilah, what happened to the Jews and Gypsies in the war
just past?"

Now she was really perplexed. "Nothing happened to either
group, my Lord. Do You plan some mischief for them?"

"Nothing happened? But the Nazis—"

"The what?"

"The leaders of Germany, who—"

"Do you mean the Empire? The restored Holy Roman Em-
pire?"

So it was true! Chronos had acted to change history, elim-
inating the whole of the holocaust, root and all!

And of course Chronos hated Satan, suspecting what had
been on that alternate time line. But the victory was, after all,
Satan's. No one else might know it, for no one else could
remember what had been, but Parry knew. He was the Incar-
nation most involved, so it could not be eradicated from his
awareness. He alope would know the truth.

There was a knock at his door. Lilah went to answer it.

JHVH stood there. He was abruptly healthier. He spoke no
word; he only gazed at Parry with uncanny understanding.

He, too, remembered!

Parry went to him, and the two embraced. Then JHVH
departed.

"What was that about?" Lilah asked. "Since when do You
have dealings with foreign Gods?"

"Since He did Me a favor," Parry said. "Now I have re-
turned it."

"I don't understand, my Lord."

"You don't need to." He grabbed her, and proceeded to an

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         265

act of passion so thorough that she, with her experience of
millennia, was amazed.

How sweet it is! he thought, embracing a dimension more
than the body of the demoness.

He had won a victory very few knew of, and changed the
mortal world for the better though he would receive no credit
for that. But his battle with the other Incarnations continued,
as he probed constantly for his chance to win before Niobe's
granddaughter ended the contest. Whenever an office changed
hands, he moved in to exploit the weakness. When Thanatos
changed, by assassinating me prior officeholder and taking his
place. Parry succeeded in confusing the novice. But Niobe's
son, the magician, managed to arrange a date between Thanatos
and the magician's daughter, Luna, and thereafter Thanatos
resolutely refused to let Luna die despite provocation. Meph-
istopheles overreached his directive and abducted Luna and
tortured her, precipitating a crisis that Parry had to tackle per-
sonally. Though furious about the torture—he would never
have authorized that!—Parry had to pretend it was all his own
doing. Unfortunately Thanatos was so provoked that he cast
off the web of delusion Parry wove and asserted himself fully
as the Incarnation of Death. Parry rather admired that, but
protocol required him to depart in a fury.

Then there was the business with Pate's triple changeover,
foiled by Niobe herself.

Then he succeeded in retiring Mars. He picked a suitable
occasion, when the mortal realm was relatively quiet, and
exerted his influence to quiet it further, until for a moment the
last conflict died out and the world was in complete peace.
That got rid of Mars. In a moment, of course, conflict resumed,
for mortals were incapable of complete peace, and a new man
assumed the office. But this one was virtually handpicked.
Parry had managed to manipulate some of Fate's threads to
make this one the leading prospect. He was from a kingdom
of India, a Prince, and he stuttered. Parry had inducements
that he trusted would prove to be quite appealing to this man.

When the time came. Parry went to the Castle of War. He

266                Piers Anthony

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

267

set up a garden of illusion that functioned as an annex to the
Castle, and posed with Lilah as erotic statuary. "I am assigning
you to corrupt Mars," he told her. "For the duration you will
be known as Lila or as Lilith, and you will be unable to use
the terms associated with My opponent."

"You are demoting me to ordinary demon status!" she pro-
tested.

"I am reminding you of your place. Succeed in this mission,
and all favor will be restored."

"As my Lord decrees," she agreed, but she was not com-
pletely pleased.' "This should not be too much of a challenge."

"It is enough of one," he said. "This man has a mortal
concubine, a Princess, and he loves her."

"Ah," she said appreciatively. "It has been a long time
since I have corrupted a man with a mortal lover."

"Seven hundred years," he agreed renuniscently. Actually,
Jolie had not really been his lover at that stage, because of her
status as a ghost, but there was no point in being technical.
' 'I want you to corrupt him, and if you cannot, to distract him,
and if you fail even at that, to tempt him into Hell. He must
be taken out of circulation at the critical time. You will have
several weeks, at least."

"Plenty of time," she said confidently. "You forget how
much experience I have had."

"Show some of it now," he said. "He is coming. I want
him to know you are a concubine; he can relate to that more
freely than to a real woman."

"Thank you," she said with not altogether insincere ire.

They assumed a position of interaction and stilled into a
seeming statue. The Incarnation of War walked close, and
paused to inspect them with some interest. This was the type
of statuary he knew from his homeland.

Parry animated, turning his head to look at the Incarnation.
"Ah, the master of the castle arrives," he said.   -,

Startled, the man stepped back. This was the last thing he
had expected: a talking erotic statue.

Parry signaled Lilah to disengage. She sat on the pedestal,
dangling her bare legs over its edge, her knees slightly spread

so as to offer a suitable view for the visitor. She was in perfect
form.

"Come, join me," she invited Mars, opening her arms.

' 'Who are you?" Mars demanded. Then he looked surprised.
Parry knew why: another of his offerings had just manifested.
Here in the annex, which was actually a part of Hell, Parry
had the power to eliminate the man's normal stutter.

"I am Satan, the Incarnation of Evil," Parry said. "This is
one of My innumerable consorts, each of whom is more lus-
cious and tractable man die last." Lilah was very good about
the way she masked her annoyance with that description; she
of course regarded herself as THE most luscious and tractable
female, having no peers. She was correct, of course. But so
was he; the innumerable consorts he referred to would in this
case all be this one, in changing guise.

"Satan?" the man asked. "Here in my castle?"

Parry explained about the annex.

"Aren't you the Occidental figure of Evil? Why have you
chosen to contact me?"

Parry explained that he only wished to help. Lilah bounced
down from the pedestal and took Mars' arm.

"I already have a woman," Mars protested, hardly mistak-
ing her approach.

"But not a suitable concubine," Parry said smoothly. "A
man of your stature needs more than one woman."

"True. But a Prince does not take a used woman."

"Readily fixed." Parry snapped his fingers, and Lilah oblig-
ingly vanished. He snapped them again, and she reappeared
in a new formulation. "Lila, here, has never been touched by
man." Lilah had, of course, and Lilith, but not Lila. "She
will be available whenever you wish." He waved her away,
and she vanished again. Her duty would come during Parry's
absence, now that she had been appropriately introduced.

He continued to walk and talk with Mars, quite friendly,
proffering a rationale for war mat the new Incarnation could
accept.' 'Man is not rational; he cheats and enslaves his fellows
and refuses to yield to reason. In the end there is only one
answer, and that is to restore fairness by force. That is war."




268               Pifrs Awthwiy                    |

It was die fallacious ends and means doctrine, a marvelous |
workhorse for Evil.                                       |

"But war does not restore fairness!" Mars protested.

"That is why it must be supervised by the Incarnation of
War." And on; die well-rehearsed rationale flowed readily
from him, finding a not entirely unwilling recipient. "You will
fashion war into a truly useful tool for the redress of inequity ,
among mortals."                                        |

The man was listening. Parry capped it by explaining how
Mars' woman could eat the food of this region when she could
not survive on that of Purgatory. This was because it was
imported from the mortal realm. Mars was gratified; his woman
was important to him.

It was an excellent start. Parry departed, well satisfied He
did not expect such amicable relations to last indefinitely, but
there was always the chance that this Mars, like the early
Chronos, could become his friend. That would be an enormous
advantage.

Next day Mars brought his woman, who was named Rap-
ture of Malachite, to the garden. Parry appeared with Lila,
and explained to Rapture that Lila was available as a con-
cubine for Mars if Rapture approved. Rapture considered,
and decided to wait a few months on that. This was not
spoken with irony; she was a Princess who well understood
such things. The second key introduction had been per-
formed.

In Ae following days Lila befriended Rapture, putting new
Occidental notions into her pretty Oriental head. This was a
marvelous approach; if the woman, also, could be corrupted. ..

In due course Mars sent Rapture back to the mortal world,
not fully pleased with the liberating effect Lila was having on
her. It did not matter; Lila continued to work on him directly.
Once she drove him to such distraction mat he used his great
Red Sword to cut her into segments. Even then she swayed \
him with her unrelenting logic, until he packed her parts into
a chest and shipped it to Hell proper.

She returned, of course, on another day, intact, to tempt
him some more. He resisted, but she played on him with that

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         269

infinite skill she possessed. Parry knew exactly how effective
that could be; that was why he had assigned her to this mission.

Yet it was not quite enough. Mars continued to perform his
office, thwarting Parry's incidental mischief among the mor-
tals. Lila had not succeeded in seducing him, despite his loss
of Rapture to a mortal man, and without that, Lila's words
lacked full effect.

It was time for Parry's big ploy on Earth. Mars had to be
out of the way, for the ploy concerned war. Therefore Lila
proceeded to the final ploy: she lured Mars to Hell proper. This
was accomplished by telling him of a Princess stranded there,
Ligeia by name, who was in need of rescuing. It was true;

Parry had saved Ligeia for just such an occasion, and she was
exactly as represented. She was indeed the perfect match for
Mars. Lila had not been pleased to introduce Mars to Ligeia,
knowing the likely result, but at this stage she had no choice.

Sure enough. Mars joined the Princess, came to know her
in the course of his attempt to rescue her from Hell, and fell
in love with her. Since she was captive in Hell, so was he,
because he would not leave without her. It was one of Parry's
prettiest traps.

Meanwhile, Parry got busy on Earth, freed from Mars' in-
terference. He whipped up the forces of mortal dissention. Soon
he would achieve such violence in the world that martial law
would be declared in a number of governments, among them
the American one in which Luna was to become critically
active. That would deprive her of her political position, leaving
her powerless to make the key decision that would mark his
final defeat. What a phenomenal ploy this was!

But Mars, showing more mettle than Parry had expected,
managed to fashion a ploy of his own. He incited the damned
souls of Hell itself to rebellion. Ozymandias, long in charge
of operations, was caught napping, and the situation was out
of hand. Parry had to return to deal with it himself. He had to
keep Mars distracted here just a little longer, until the business
on Earth passed the point of no return.

He met Mars physically, when the man was deprived of his
magic Red Sword. He could not of course actually hurt him;




270

no Incarnation could injure another. But he could bluff him,
and perhaps convince him that the infernal revolution was
doomed.

But Mars finally caught on, and exploited the weakness of
the Incarnation of Evil. "I am going to phase in with you,
Satan," he said. That was one of the powers Mars had, to
overlap mortals and read their minds. "When I do, I will know
all your secrets. All that is in your mind."

It was no bluff. Parry had avoided direct physical contact.
If Mars grappled with him. Mars would learn of his activity
on Earth, and immediately act to interfere with it. Rather than
allow that. Parry had to back off, though it meant the premature
release of a number of souls from Hell. & was a loss he had
to take, in older to preserve the situation on Earth, where Ehe
true victory was to be won. So he vacated, leaving the field
to Mars. It was humiliating, but necessary.

Parry made the finishing touches on die Earthly situation.
and let it be. It was now in place, and only heroic action by
Mars could reverse it. Had Man returned earlier, he could
have stopped it by routine means, bat it was now beyond dot
stage. Parry was happy to have Mars depart from Hell now,
and did not attempt to delay him further.

But Mare rose to die occasion once more. He succeeded ia
reversing the corruption Lila was practicing on him, and cor-
rupted her instead. She deserted Parry and fell in love with
Mars. She told Mars how to reverse the ploy and win the
victory.

Parry was furious. He had never intended this to happen!
The damage was done, but at least he could punish the de-
moness. She had never learned the secret of demon-banishing;

like otter demons, she would dissipate and be destroyed if he
invoked the spell. It was psychological rather than magicai;

belief was what made it happen, and she believed. Every Lwd
of Hell had fostered that belief in all demons, her included,
through die millennia. But first he had to get her away from
Mars' protection.

He faced Mars again, mis time by me great Doomsday dock.
He knew what Mars had not known: mat Ligeia had chosen
to return to mortality instead of proceeding to Heaven, so that

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         271

she could be with Mars. He brought the mortal Ligeia in,
offering her in exchange for Lila.

And Ligeia interceded for the demoness. That caused the
wavering Mars to decide to save Lila after all. It was in his
power to do so, for he threatened to drive the Doomsday Clock
to the dread midnight hour and precipitate the final war mat
would destroy all of humanity. Parry could not tolerate that;

it had never been his intent to wipe out mortal man, only to
facilitate the classification of souls. He had to back off again,
yielding Lila, much as it galled him to do so. Wrongheaded
righteousness had won the day yet again.

How well he remembered now that when Lilah had deserted
his predecessor, Lucifer, it had led to Lucifer's undoing. Now
she had deserted Parry, and the time of his final reckoning with
God was drawing nigh. She might already have contributed to
his downfall.

Parry retreated, and Mars took over his office, defusing the
situation Parry had so carefully fostered. It was yet another
humiliation.

Furthermore, it left him without a woman. He did not want
to call Nefertiti back from her holiday, and he had not cultivated
other damned souls. The truth was that no female creature
matched his memory of Jolie. How he wished he could evoke
her ghost again, just to talk to!

That reminded him of Heaven, because Jolie would surely
go there if she ever could get free of the drop of blood he
carried. He was now releasing souls to Heaven, per the agree-
ment with Mars; the Incarnation of War thought he was doing
the souls a favor. Well, time had passed; perhaps things had
improved in Heaven.

Parry decided to check. He sailed up to the Void and called
for JHVH. The Deity of the Hebrews was glad to guide him
through. JHVH alone knew what Parry had done for His peo-
ple, and that the Incarnation of Evil was not actually doing
evil.

He reached the outer circle of Heaven. Indeed, it seemed
brighter than it had five centuries before. Gabriel had been
doing some reorganizing, in the name of God, and now the
souls were engaged in various satisfying pursuits. Some were




272 Piers Anthony

watching die new mortal television; die shows, though edited
to exclude anything inappropriate to die exalted state, seemed
interesting. Others were practicing various crafts, such as bas-
ket weaving with strands of ether, with evident pleasure.

All tilings considered. Heaven now seemed an appropriate
place to be. He would make a report, and release those elegible
souls who wished to go.

JHVH guided him through the Void again. Parry thanked
him and descended on toward Hell. But still he was unsatisfied;

he knew that he had no woman and no challenging project
there, now that the business with Mars was done. The ennui
of his long possession of the Office threated to overcome him.
Ozymandias was running Hell well enough, and needed no
help; Parry could not blame the King for the rebellion stirred
up by Mars. Only the Incarnation of War could have done it.

Was it time to retire? What was the point in continuing in
an office mat had become boring? He still had the challenge
with Gabriel, but his successor could complete that. In any
event, it seemed to be a losing cause; the massed power of the
other Incarnations seemed to be too much for him.

The other Incarnations—actually they weren't all against
him. There was Nox, the Incarnation of Night, with all her
fascination. Lilah (now Lila) had feared that Nox would take
him away from her. Well, maybe now was the time.

He oriented on Nox, and in a moment he was there in her
encompassing darkness.

«What is thy business. Lord of Evil?»

Ah, that dream-memory communication! He had forgotten
how evocative it was.

"Nox, I have alienated Lilah, and now have little interest
in pursuing my office."

«What would thou with me?»

"I do not know. Perhaps it is advice. Perhaps love."

She opened her cloak and flowed about him. The intangible
female nature of her encompassed him, and he felt as if he
were floating. Why had he waited so many centuries before
coming to her? She was all he could ever desire!

Then she withdrew, as she had before. «Not yet. Lord of
Evil.»

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         273

"But all I want is you!"

«Perhaps thou shallst have me, or I you. But not yet. Thou
hast one more mortal woman to deal with, before me. Go first
to thine Incarnation.»

The disappointment of this final rejection surged in him.
"No other Incarnation will touch me!"

«Thou must win her, Evil.»

"Win whom?" he cried desperately as the presence with-
drew. "How? I tell you, no other Incarnation will—"

«She has been given thee. Evil, but thou must win her from
the others and from herself. Win her, and all is thine.»

"Win whomf" he cried, but Nox was gone, leaving him
with a greater emptiness than he had felt before.

He had come for relief, and had been turned away. What
remained to him?

Then the significance of what Nox had sent penetrated. If
he found this mysterious Incarnation and won her, all would
be his. He knew from me context and significance of the thought
that-this meant everything. That he would at last defeat God.

Nox had directed him correctly, if deviously, before. Per-
haps this new challenge would be the most significant yet.

Parry moved on toward Hell, discovering his interest in the
challenge being restored. Mars might have set him back, but
the larger picture had not yet clarified.

The Lord of Evil might yet have his day.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         275

15-

GAEA

First Pany spent some time thinking. He retreated to the edge
of die Void, where no one would bother him, and reviewed
what had passed. Nox had said that the woman was mortal,
and an Incarnation, and had been given to him, but that he
had to win her from the others and from herself. There were
only two major female Incarnations currently. Fate and Gaea,
and neither one of them would touch him.

Then he remembered me prophecy he had discussed with
LUah. The business with Mars had blotted it from his attention.
Two men, possessing the two most beautiful women, bearing
each a daughter, one of whom might marry Death, the other
Evil. One daughter to love an Incarnation, the other to be one.

There was only one conclusion to be drawn from those
prophecies, assuming they were true ones. One daughter was
to associate with Thanatos, as Luna was doing; the other was
to associate with Satan, and become an Incarnation herself.
What a concatenation of threads!

Which Incarnation? While it was possible for a male or
female mortal to assume any Incarnation office, the sexes had
been unchanged throughout Parry's tenure. So it seemed likely

mat she would become either an Aspect of Fate, perhaps joining
her mother, Niobe, or Nature.

Nature. Gaea. The Green Mother. She had been in office
since Pany had worked her over with the plague. She was still
on me job, but might be getting tired.

If that other daughter—what was her name? Orb—if Orb
became Gaea, and associated with Parry—

It burst upon him like an explosion from the fires of Hell.
If he won that girl, and she was Gaea, her power would be
joined to his! He could use mat mergence to tip the balance
against God!

No wonder Nox had elected to wait, foreseeing mis! Why
should she distract him from me biggest chance of his career
in office! Nox preferred to see what he would do with it. If he
lost, then mere was time for Nox. If he won—

The prospect awed him. All he had to do was—

He quickly sobered. Orb was Niobe's daughter! She was
protected by Fate. There was no way that girl would walk
innocently into his embrace!

But Niobe had, in a fashion, turned Orb loose. She had
agreed to divert her from politics. He had intended that to be
Luna, and had been deceived. He had agreed never to harm
her. But by the same token, Niobe had left her to him, because
his agreement meant that she had no cause to fear what he
might do to Orb. The logic was somewhat obscure, but the
interpretation was viable.

But what was the giri like? He had never seen her. He knew
only that in childhood she had been like a twin sister to Luna,
with buckwheat-honey hair to match Luna's clover-honey hair.
Luna had grown to be a beauty, talented artistically—and po-
litically. Orb—her talent was music, for she had claimed a
musical instrument from the Hall of die Mountain King. How
did that qualify her to assume die office of the Incarnation of
Nature?

Pany realized that it was time to take a look at Orb. He
would not interfere with her in any way; he would simply
observe her. After all, if she was destined to be his companion,
he had a right to know!




276 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE Of EVIL 277

First he had to locate her. That was simple enough; he went
to Purgatory and used its computer. These new-fangled sci-
entific devices did have their uses. He was after all an Incar-
nation, and this was neutral territory; the computer served him
as well as the others.

She was in America, on a tour with a musical group called
The Livin' Sludge. That made sense, because of her music.
But that group jogged a memory; perhaps he had encountered
it in his quest to evoke evil among mortals.

He returned to Hell and delved into its own records. Sure
enough, the members of The Livin' Sludge were considered
to be prime prospects for residence in Hell after they died,
because all three males were hooked on Spelled H, one of the
most addictive and degenerative of modem drugs.

But what was Niobe's daughter doing with such a group?
She was surely a disgustingly good girl, and would be unlikely
to associate with evil in any form. This was becoming more
interesting.

Then he discovered that in addition to the three male mu-
sicians, there were two young woman and a succubus in the
group, besides Orb herself. More interesting yet.

The succubus was of course a damned creature, a female
demon who seduced men in their sleep. Her name was Jezebel,
and she was not associated with Hell; she was an independent
agent. The male musicians would enjoy her company, of course,
but Niobe's daughter and the two other girls, who were in-
nocent creatures, would hardly feel the same!

The group was conveyed from site to site by a huge magic
fish known as Jonah. Most interesting of all!

Jonah he knew about already. He was the monstrous fish
who had swallowed the Prophet Jonah some millennia back,
and was being punished for it, now having assumed the name
of the one he had wronged. He was forbidden to touch water,
he had to swim instead through air or earth. Why would he
do such a service for this motley assemblage?

Parry located the site at which they were currently perform-
ing and went there to take in a show. He assumed the form of
a somewhat seedy middle-aged man, and paid for his ticket

with legitimate money. This was of course an anonymous visit,
just for information.

The group looked every bit as disreputable as he had ex-
pected. The boys were somewhat shaggy, and even from his
distance in the rear of the audience he could sniff die aura of
evil associated with their addiction to H. Ordinary H was bad,
but Spelled H was truly hellish; it never let go until its victim
was securely in Hell proper.

Then the girls came on. Two of them; evidently the others
served other functions in the group. One of these was black
and rather pretty, and she was a virgin with so little evil on
her soul she seemed unreal. The other was Orb: conservatively
garbed, buckwheat-honey tresses, and reminiscent of her real
mother though not as beautiful. She had a little harp that seemed
out of place among the more conventional instruments of the
boys.

A harp? He remembered how Jolie had played a little hasp.
That jolted him, even after seven centuries.

They began to play, the organ, guitar and drums. There was
really nothing special about it. The audience quickly became
restless, and there were discontented murmurings. "You mean
this is it?" a girl near Parry whispered to her companion. "I
thought they were supposed to be hot!"

He smiled knowingly. "They are. Just wait."

After a moment, the black giri began to sing. Her voice was
good, but not spectacular, and the fact that she sang an old
folk song did not help.

"I didn't pay good money for this junk!" the girl in the
audience muttered. All through me packed hall there were
similar nunblings; it would not be long before balls of paper
were flying.

"You'll see," the companion said smugly.

Parry was more curious than bored. He knew that young
folk had a low tolerance for boredom, and conventional values
bored them. How had The Livin' Sludge managed to develop
such popularity with such ordinary stuff?

Then Orb touched her harp and joined in, adding a slight
additional theme hardly audible through the existing sound.

Something happened. It was as though color developed after




278 Piers Anthony

an image had been established in limited black and white. The
black girl's voice filled out, becoming beautiful, and the boys'
instruments assumed authority they had lacked before. Sud-
denly the music had conviction. It spread out through me au-
dience, an almost tangible wave, and replaced fidgeting with
rapture. The mouth of the nearby complaining girl froze in
mid-mutter; her eyes glazed. Her companion did not even say
"I told you so"; he, too, was rapt.

Yet me music had hardly changed. It was still me old folk
song, still the motley collection of instruments.

Then it touched Parry, and he felt the magic.

Now Orb joined in singing, her voice added to mat of the
black girl. The magic intensified. The listeners nearest the stage
seemed almost to float, and even way back here, where the
effect was diminished, the sound became wondrous.

Orb had the same magic he did! But hers, enhanced by the
harp from the Hall of the Mountain King, was magnified, so
mat its power touched thousands. It spread to the other mem-
bers of the performing group, enhancing their otherwise or-
dinary skills. It hardly mattered what music they played; anything
became marvelous.

Now Parry knew the secret of The Livin' Sludge. Magic
talent enhanced by magic instrument. He understood it readily
enough; after all, he himself had enraptured listeners with his
voice alone on many occasions. He could depart; he hardly
needed to sit through me entire performance.

But he did not move. He remained, as did all me others,
silently taking it all in. At the end, he joined in die applause
as ardently as the others.

As the folk departed, he remembered his mission. He wanted
to know more of the situation of Orb and The Livin' Sludge.
Much more!

He conjured himself to Jonah, the big fish floating invisibly
in the air near the city. Jonah was aware of his coming, and
shuddered, but could not protest; Parry was after all an Incar-
nation.

The girl Betsy was there, sitting at a desk in her office inside
the fish, sorting through the voluminous correspondence the
group received and dictating answers into a recorder. She was,

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         279

he understood, the organist's giri. He ignored her and sought
instead the succubus.

Jezebel was fixing an evening meal. Because night had
fallen, she was in her exotic form, a supremely luscious young
woman. But instead of seeking sleeping men to seduce, she
was working patiently at (his mundane chore, with seeming
satisfaction.

"What are you doing here, demoness?" he inquired, ma-
terializing beside her.

She turned, annoyed—and did a humanlike double take.
"Satan* You have no call on me!"

"I have no interest in you, demoness. All I want is infor-
mation: why does a creature of your kind associate in a menial
capacity with a mixed bag of mortals?"

"I don't have to answer You!"

' 'Would you prefer that I inquire of one of the mortals? That
fair giri in die other chamber, perhaps?"

"Leave her alone, Satan! She's innocent!"

"Then I mink you will answer Me," he said grimly.

ft worked. The succubus knew his power, and feared for
her companions. "If I do, will You go?"

"Not only that, I will erase any signs of My visit."

"It's die Llano," she said.

"The Llano!" he exclaimed. "What do you know of the
Song of the Fundament?"

"Only that it will free me," she said. "And them. They all
want it too. The boys to get off the H, and Jonah to be released
from his cmse, and Orb—"

He nodded. He knew of the Llano, having searched for parts
of it for centuries. It was me ultimate melody of power, car-
rying magic mat reached back into die nature of chaos itself.
A minor aspect of it lent magic to his own singing.

Then he realized how this related to Orb. She, too, partook
of an aspect of the Llano when she sang. Naturally she wanted
more of it, for a person who could tap into the Llano had die
potential to do much more.

His question was answered. The quest for the Llano was
indeed what unified this motley group. They were on tour not
for money or fame, but to search out me Llano.




280 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE Of EVIL 281

That gave him the key to his approach to Orb. He could
help her to achieve a portion of the Llano.

There was a noise outside. The others were returning to the
fish—or perhaps Jonah had gone to their location to take them
in.

Jezebel glanced up in alarm. "Satan, You promised—"

Parry nodded. "You answered, demoness. Now I depart,
and you will carry no memory of this interview." He made a
gesture, as of nipping something at her.

She jumped, alarmed. Then it hit her, and her expression
straightened as he faded out. She had forgotten his visit.

Parry smiled. He had not been sure that a demon who was
independent of Hell would react in the same way those within
Hell did. Now he knew: he had the same power over outside
demons as over inside demons. The power over their belief.
He had not performed any magic; he had simply made a ges-
ture, and Jezebel had erased the memory herself, obeying the
power she believed he had.

He remained, invisible, just to make sure she was not trying
to trick him. In a moment the party boarded. One of them
came straight to the kitchen chamber. It was the guitarist. He
swept the demoness into his embrace and kissed her ardently,
and she responded with complete abandon.

Parry was amazed. Demonesses seldom gave their love,
particularly this species, but this one had. He could tell when
they were deceiving and when they were true; he had had
centuries of experience. Certainly Jezebel did not want Satan
interfering; she just wanted to be left alone with her lover.

He would leave her alone. He remembered Lilah, who had
been true to each of her lovers until they tired of her. He had
lost Lilah because he had lost respect for her; he had brought
it on himself.

Then Orb entered the kitchen. The two broke their kiss,
remaining embraced. "Pood's ready," Jezebel said. "I'll get
on it."

"Finish what you're doing," Orb said with a smile.

They returned to their kiss. Orb watched indulgently, but
also with a trace of envy. She had no lover of her own.

Parry gazed at her, remaining invisible. This was the woman

who might marry Evil. He had been contemptuous of that
prophecy, remembering beautiful Niobe, not really able to
appreciate how the baby she had after departing the office could
ever interest him. But then he had heard Orb sing, in die way
that he himself sang, and a dimension had been added to the
prospects. Now he saw her in her natural state, and she was
a beautiful woman in her own right, and a feeling one. In fact,
she reminded him of her mother—and, oddly, of Jolie. Her
hair was the same color, and so were her eyes. Also, mere
was her little harp.

Of Jolie! He was abruptly aware of his chain of thought. A
woman almost as lovely as Niobe, cast in the image of Pany's
long-dead wire. Had Gabriel known it would be this way?

Parry conjured himself away from there, dismayed. Now he
appreciated the potential treachery of me situation. There were
two ways he could join with Orb, the potential Gaea. One was
to seduce her into loving him, and adding her power to his,
giving him victory over God. The other was for her to seduce
him into loving her, and that would destroy all his prospects.
Po&she was allied with God, and would not betray God unless
her heart went first.

His smartest move might be to drop any consideration of
any association with this young woman. To stay well away
from her, and go to Nox . . .

He shook his head. He knew he could not do that. He had
to settle matters with Orb, one way or the other. It was apt to
be the most significant challenge of his career as an Incarnation.

Pany watched Orb for some time, attending a number of
the concerts on the tour and observing her as she went out
shopping or visiting. He was avoiding me issue, he knew; but
he was uncertain how to approach her. Certainly he could not
walk up and introduce himself as Satan; she would refuse to
have anything to do with him. But if he fashioned himself into
some other semblance, she would be furious when she learned
the truth, and that would end the association. Either way, her
mother would be trouble. Niobe knew of the prophecy, and
would surely labor diligently to void it. As an Aspect of Pate,
she had extraordinary power to do just mat.




282 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 283

Yet she had, he reminded himself, in her fashion given him
leave. She knew that me issue would not be settled until the
prophecy had been expended. That critical word may had to
be settled; it had to be determined whether Orb would or would
not marry Evil. Perhaps she wanted the issue settled as much
as he did.

Why not start with Niobe, men? Settle with her about the
manner he would settle with her daughter. Whatever she acceded
to, the other Incarnations would.

He mulled it over, but found no better approach. There had
to be some way to do it that would not have him at odds with
the other Incarnations.

He went to me Abode of Fate. Niobe expected him, for there
was a tangle in her threads at mis stage. She met him in her
own form; the other two Aspects were of course with her, but
not evident. She was somewhat dumpy in her middle age, yet
the echo of her former beauty remained. He knew mat she
could have changed her form to be beautiful again, but her
pride prevented her. She had let her body decline, and would
live with it. He respected that, though he himself had chosen
to adopt a younger perpetual form when he had become an
Incarnation.

"How may I approach your daughter without your malice?"
he asked directly. "To settle the prophecy."

"Simply tell her me truth," she said. "That you are the
Incarnation of Evil, and you have come to fulfill the prophecy.
Ask her to many you. I'm sure she will give you an answer."

"Indubitably," he agreed wryly. "The same answer you
gave me. I fear I would not be quite satisfied with that."

"You must either speak me truth to her, or a lie," she said.
"I'm sure the lie comes easier to you."

"But the resolution of the prophecy cannot be a lie!" he
reminded her.

She looked at him penetratingly. "You're serious. You ac-
tually want to marry her!"

"Yes."

"But not to love her, of course."

"Of course."

' 'Why, when you know she will never be corrupted to evil?''

"Because she will become the Incarnation of Nature. Her
power added to Mine will give Me the balance of power in
me mortal realm."

"Satan, if you think for a moment that I will concur in
that—!"

"But she must do it voluntarily. If you are certain she will
not, why do you object to the trial of it?"

She considered. "Because I do not trust you, Satan. You
are devious in the extreme. You almost got my soul; I will not
give my daughter's soul to you!"

"If Orb is certain of her own values, she should be able to
make mat decision for herself. Do you trust her or don't you?"

"I trust her if she knows the truth. But you will deceive
her."

Parry sighed. "The truth would send her away at me outset;

we both know that. I will not go into sure defeat."

She angled her head, in a way that carried over from me
days of her beauty. "Atropos has a suggestion."

"Put her on," he said.

The black grandmotherly woman appeared in her place. "Why
don't you lie to her," she said.

Parry shook his head. "We have covered that."

"No you haven't, old Scrotch! You just said it and never
thought about it. How about this deal: you go court her—but
everything you tell her must be a lie. That way you can tell
her you love her. Then the moment you ask her to marry you,
you must tell her nothing but the truth. Before she answers."

"What would be the point? She would cast me off the
moment—"

"Man, if you loved some girl, and she said she wanted to
marry you but there was one thing she had to tell you, and
mat was that everything she'd told you before was a lie but
now she would always tell you the truth, what would you say?''

Parry thought about that. If Jolie had said that, would he
have married her? He concluded mat he would have, because
he had come to know her well despite her words; he had judged
her by much more than any words. He would believe that he
could in time win her love, given complete honesty between
them.




284 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 285

Would Orb judge him by other than his lying words?

He opened his mouth to ask another question, and heard
himself say "Agreed."

Niobe reappeared. "Now wait! / didn't agree!"

"I will court her," Parry said evenly. "Everything I tell her
will be a lie, or part of a construct of a lie. You Incarnations
may watch throughout, unobserved, and verify that this is so.
You will not interfere. Then, before I have her answer, I will
tell her me truth. If she then decides to marry me, none of you
will oppose it."

Now it was Niobe's turn to think. Evidently an internal
debate was going on between me three Aspects of Fate. "We
must ask the others," she said at last.

"But no word to any mortals," he cautioned. "This must
be our private deal, until I tell her the truth. Then she may
consult with whom she pleases. If she decides to marry me,
you accept it. If not, I accept it, and make no further suit. She
will decide the issue."

' 'We shall get back to you in a few days,'' Niobe said grimly.
She converted to her spider form and disappeared.

Several days later she had her answer. The Incarnations,
with misgivings, had agreed. They would stand by without
any kind of interference, as long as he lied to Orb.

So the challenge was on. He was the Father of Lies; if any
person could do it, he could. But could any person do it?

He went again to the fringe of the Void and pondered in
solitude. How could he lie continually to a woman, never
telling her the truth, and yet win her love—a love that would
hold when she learned the truth? A stupid woman, or an ugly
one, might be fooled, because she might desire to be fooled.
But Orb was brighter than her mother, and almost as beautiful,
and considerably more talented. That music—

And, after an instant or an eternity—there was hardly a
distinction here—he saw the answer. "The dream's the thing!"
he exclaimed.

He would fashion a construct that was a lie. Within that
construct everything would relate; all would be true, so as to
lend verisimilitude, the semblance of accuracy. In this manner

he could tell the truth to Orb, and try to win her love, without
violating the agreement he had made to speak only lies to her.

First he had to leam more about his subject. He had to leam
what kind of lie Orb would want to believe, so that he could
fashion it for her and make her believe. He had to understand
her truest motivations, so mat he could play on them with his
best expertise and win her love. Then he had to know how to
hold that love, or at least win her acquiescence, so that she
would marry him despite learning the truth.

He researched her life. Only Chronos could actually travel
to past times, but there were demons in Hell who could re-
create past scenes with fair accuracy by evoking them from
substances that had been present when the scenes occurred.
He sent his minions on a quest for such substances all along
the route that Orb's physical life had traveled. He chafed at
the time this took, but when the substances arrived, and he
started witnessing the key evocations, he was satisfied.

Orb had led a fairly ordinary life, complicated by some
extraordinary influences. She had been joined early in life by
her niece Luna, who was of similar age and lineage; indeed,
Orb's parents were Luna's grandparents, and the girls resem-
bled twins. They had been raised together, and shared each
others' lives. Luna had shown an early affinity for art, and
Orb for music; their gifts from the Mountain King confirmed
them.

Then Luna had departed with her father for America, and
Orb had gone on a quest across the world for the song of songs,
the Llano. That quest had taken her to the Gypsies, and she
had made a close friend of a blind Gypsy girl, Tinka.

The Gypsies. There was a lever! Parry had acted to save the
Gypsies from the holocaust. It was true that he had done it for
another reason, to help JHVH's people; but it was also true
that without his intercession, none of the Gypsies Orb had
encountered, including Tinka, would have survived. If he told
Orb that—-
But he could not, for that was the truth. Only later, when
the time for the truth came, could he tell her, and that might
be too late. He had to win her love without taking credit for
what he had done. What an irony!




286 Piers Anthony

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

287

Orb had gone on to tour India, and had made more friends
there. She had come to love Mym, a fugitive Prince who
stuttered, and had had a child by him.

Parry gaped, watching me animation of the sequence. Mym
was the man who had become the new Mars! The one who
had finally balked Parry by threatening to move the Doomsday
Clock to midnight and bring on the final war! The one who
had taken Lilah from him!

How could this have happened, and he not known of it? But
he realized it was because he had not cared to know. Orb had
been nothing to him then; he had been preoccupied with affairs
of routine evil, and with combatting the other Incarnations as
they changed office. He could not concern himself directly
with every thread in the tapestry! Certainly there had been
nothing at mis stage of Orb's life to suggest that the prophecy
of her involvement with Satan was serious.

Orb had given away the baby and traveled to America, where
she joined with The Livin' Sludge, continuing her quest for
me Llano. She was making progress; already she had learned
to use an aspect of it to make storms. What she perhaps did
not realize was that her mastery of the Llano would be far
more significant than die mere satisfaction of curiosity about
a song. The Llano would make her capable of assuming the
office of me Incarnation of Nature. The present Gaea, it seemed,
was ready to retire, and Orb was now a leading prospect to
replace her.

The Llano—now there was a thing he could use! He could
He about its nature, and in the process win her gratitude by
helping her to leam parts of the song she did not yet know.
He could draw on his own talent for singing—a talent unrivaled
until Orb herself appeared with similar magic. He could use
me power of the Llano on her, even as he did her the seeming
favor of teaching it to her.

But she knew about the prophecy. She would be on guard
against him. How could he lay mat wariness to rest?

He considered one approach, and another, and others. Fi-
nally he worked out what he felt would be most likely to
persuade her. What a bold scenario it was!

She feared the prospect of marriage to Satan. Therefore he

would stage that marriage—and rescue her from it. Thus the
lie would preserve her from the reality, and perhaps me lie
could win her love.

He scripted the illusion carefully. Everything had to be just
right. She had to be made to believe the lie. But whom would
she believe? Not a demon from Hell, certainly! No honest
person would cooperate in telling her the necessary lie. How
could he develop a cast of characters that would do his bidding
yet be believable to her?

By emulating the ones she trusted! The other Incarnations!
With me true Incarnations bound not to interfere in any way,
he could arrange to emulate them, and sugarcoat the lie. What
a phenomenal total He he was developing!

He summoned those damned souls who had talent in acting
and who desired the favor of the Lord of Evil. He drilled them
in the characters they were to portray, so that they could almost
beUeve they were those folk. He rehearsed them in me script,
and adjusted and refined it constantly, perfecting it. The first
lie was about to be perpetrated.

When Orb returned to the Llano region of North America
Parry was ready. He watched me big fish swim low and open
his mouth to let the woman out. Orb walked across the plain,
seeking her song. Now was die time!

The first actor went onstage. She formed into the semblance
of a spider, and the spider grew until it became the likeness
of Niobe in her current form.

"Mother!" Orb cried, and hugged her. "Luna said you had
become Lachesis."

"True. Now we must talk." The emulation was doing very
well; Orb appeared to have no suspicion.

"Did Luna tell you about my quest for the Llano? I am
getting closer. I can change die weather, and I can even use
it to travel across the world in an instant!"

"Yes, my dear. The Llano is die most potent theme of this
realm." That was technically true, but it was a lie because it
was a false image telling it, for reason other than that presented.
The best lies incorporated truth, so mat they were convincing.
"But there is danger you may not have anticipated. Do you
remember the prophecy?"




288

"That I might many Evil! But Mother, you know I would
never associate with Satan, let alone marry him!"

"But he is me master of deception." Another truth, setting
up another lie. "Satan has set a trap for you. He means to
complete me prophecy and marry you, regardless of your wiB."

"But he can't—"

"He means to use the Llano against you." Truth again—
and its companion lie. "He will stun your will and make you
his love-slave. You must be on guard!"

Orb was appalled. She would not have believed this if any
but her mother had said it. What an elegant lie it was! "How
can I escape?"

"I will send Gaea to you. Listen to her. Orb!" Then the
actor resumed spider form, and disappeared.

Beautiful! That actress deserved a commendation. Parry had
found himself almost believing it was Niobe. He regretted only
that no wider audience could appreciate the intricacy and crafts-
manship of the pattern of lies. There was art in lying, and not
merely in that form of it termed "fiction."            s

Next he sent the emulation of the Incarnation of Nature. She
formed out of mist, in the likeness of me real one. "lamGaea.
Lachesis asked me to show you how to nullify the Llano when
it is used against you. You can only do that with another aspect
of itself. But mere is risk. If you try the counter, and fail, you
will suffer eternal madness." There was me lie, akin to the
one by which he controlled demons.

"I'll risk it!" Orb said.

The fake Gaea men explained mat me countertheme was a
duet that had to be sung with another person: a man named Na-
tasha, who was me finest mortal singer apart from herself. The
actress did not explain that this was a monstrous half-truth, for
Natasha was simply the words Ah, Satan merged and spelled
backward; it was die immortal Incarnation Satan who was dial
fine singer. He had set it up this way so that he could show,
when me time for truth came, mat he had never completely de-
ceived her, but had given her a potent hint as to his nature from
the outset. That might make her feel at least partially at fault in
her own eyes, and perhaps dispose her toward accepting him.

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         289

For the lying was the easier part of this; holding her after the
time of truth was the harder part.

Orb took the bait. "This Natasha—what kind of man is
he?"

"The best of men. But he may take your rendition of an
aspect of the Llano as a trap of Satan's." Nicely turning the
lie on its head. Now Orb would have to try to reassure Natasha
that she was not an agent of Evil!

Gaea wrote out me music and gave it to Orb. Then she
departed, while Orb read the music and praticed it without
actually singing it, heeding the warning of its danger.

Now for the main scene. Parry crafted one of his finest
illusions: a complete demonic church. In it was a damned soul
mocked up to resemble the popular image of Satan: red, horned,
with a tail, and clothed in flames. This scene formed around
Orb, incorporating her.

"Now you will marry Me!" the fake Satan proclaimed.

' 'Never!'' Orb cried, marvelously true to form. It was almost
as though she were another actor from Hell.

The actor sang. Actually it was a recording of Parry's voice,
for no other entity could perform this part of it well enough
to fool a musician such as Orb.

Orb seemed stunned. Now he added the second voice, in
effect singing a duet with himself. The doubled song carried
phenomenal impact; it was a variant of the theme he had used
to pacify demons, enhanced by the power of the Llano. The
actor changed doming magically and gestured to Orb to join
him at the altar. He took her hand, leading into me ceremony.

Desperately, she sang the theme she had just learned, but it
was new to her, and she was frightened, and so it lacked full
effect. She tried to wrench away, but her song alone was not
sufficient to free her. Gaea had carefully established that! The
ceremony continued, with me demon priest readying me knife
that would mingle the actor's blood with Orb's and make them
one.

Orb came to the first break in her song. Now she needed
the companion song, to form her own duet, or suffer madness.
It seemed she had really swallowed that lie.

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FOR LOVE OF EVIL

291

Now, before she could discover its falsity. Parry stepped
into his own role. He conjured himself at a distance, and
became Natasha: his normal human physical appearance, as it
had been set from the outset of his tenure in office. Orb had
never seen him; she would not recognize him. That was one
of me most delicious aspects of it: any other Incarnation would
have known him immediately. He sang the companion theme.

It was effective, of course; it was scripted to be. He sang;

she sang. Now her voice gained strength and clarity. And what
a voice it was! She was truly the finest singer of the age, a
suitable match for his own ability. Slowly they came together,
vanquishing the Satan figure, freeing her from the forced mar-
riage. Her worst fear had been evoked, and blunted, thanks to
Natasha. The demonic church faded out, leaving only an opea

field.

They stopped singing. "You play a dangerous game," Parry
said, as if this were a minor matter. But it was all he could
do to remember me script; her voice had profoundly moved
him, and this was not as it should be, because it was his vision.

He saw her assessing him. Women paid less attention to
appearance than men did, but were affected by it. He knew he
was a handsome man. They conversed, and he established the
lie of his identity as a mortal singer. They talked about the
Llano, and he taught her the ready counter to Satan's use of
it. What a joy it was, to sing for an audience who could truly
appreciate his skill!

Then, having suitably impressed her, he broached me subject
mat would be on any man's mind at this stage.

"I am unmarried," Orb replied, flushing prettily. Oh, what
a woman she was, with her delightful naivete almost intact!
Again he thought of Jolie, as she had been before death made
her cynical. But in fairness he had to admit mat Orb was the
lovelier of me two.

"May I court you?" This was a very quick progression, but
it was important to catch her in the flush of her emotion, in
the hour of her gratefulness to him.

It was easy to read me play of emotions mat passed through
her. Then she said, breathlessly, "You may."

Success, for the first key stage! She was receptive.

Then he sang her the Song of Awakening, which was also
known as the Song of the Morning, or me Dawning of Love.
As he sang, its magic manifested, requiring no Grafting of
illusion on his part; this much was genuine. The scene dark-
ened, men brightened into sunrise, bringing the sprouting of
grass and me flowering of bushes. A ray of sunlight came down
to illuminate Orb, making her so lovely that he hardly dared
gaze at her. Her eyes seemed as great and bright as the welkin,
translucently gray with a hint of greenery reflected, and her
bosom heaved with the excitement of her response. Niobe had
been beautiful, but had left me office and aged; Orb, as Gaea,
would remain forever as radiant as she was at this moment.

Then it ended, as it had to. He was surely as regretful as
she. Almost, he could believe what he was telling her.

She stood. "I will see you again," she said.

"Certainly." He watched her walk back toward the big fish.

The first vision had played out almost perfectly. Parry was
elated. He had taken a giant step toward winning her.

He conjured himself to Hell. Soon he would organize for
the second vision. But first he wanted to rest.

Nefertiti showed up. "I fear you are lonely, now that Lilah
is gone," she said.

Parry did not have the heart to tell her that his interest in
both demonesses and damned souls had diminished. "I thank
you for me thought, but you have earned your vacation and I
want you to enjoy it to the full."

"Oh. Thank you. Lord Satan," she said, not entirely pleased
at this dismissal.

When he closed his eyes. Orb was there, her honey hair
flowing down about her shoulders, a half-smile on her face
and that quaint small harp beside her.

He sprang the second vision on mem when Jonah was swim-
ming over the Pacific at night. The big fish could not handle
water, but there was plenty of air above the ocean and me
weather was clear, so it was all right. Jonah would give any
bad weather a wide berth.

The vision played upon me party's awareness that a storm
would be trouble for Jonah, because he could not escape it by




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swimming underground. Not while he was far from land. The
vision included the human members of the party, but excluded
me fish and the succubus, because demons were not subject
to dreams and would know it for what it was. In reality, Jonah
continued an uneventful swim through the air, but in the vision
he encountered an expanding storm that encircled and trapped
him.

The script had the fish sinking down to the surface of the
sea, resting on it, unable to enter it. Jonah was helped to adapt
by the singing of the group, as they essayed an imperfect
rendition of the Song of Awakening.

Then the heavier element came. Skeletons danced across the
surface of the water, approaching the fish. The fish, in the
vision, was afraid of them, and tried to paddle away, but was
surrounded. One of the dancing skeletons touched a fluke, and
that part of the tail of the fish lost its flesh and became skeletal.

Horrified, perceiving the way of it. Orb did her best to halt
the skeletons by singing. This was not enough.

Then Jezebel, who was not the real one but one of Hell's
minions masquerading as her, introduced them to the key: the
skeletons were dancing a jig called "The Drunken Sailor's
Hornpipe." They did not seem to be distracted when Jezebel
tried it, but then Orb tried a dance, the tanana, and danced
with the nearest skeleton until it fell apart. She had found a
way!

Parry, watching, was amazed. That dance was the most
suggestive thing he had ever seen! How had a nice girl like
her learned that? Then he remembered her association with the
Gypsies. That was the sort of thing the Gypsies would have
taught her. He was glad he had saved them from the holocaust.

But it was not enough. The script tightened about them.
There were too many skeletons, pressing too closely. If Orb
responded appropriately . . .

She did. "Natasha!" she called in desperation.

Parry made his grand entrance, singing. The skeletons paused,
hearing. He joined the party, while the skeletons hesitated,
afraid of the power of his song. He was rather proud of the
manner he had crafted the bones to evince living emotions.

Orb was obviously glad to see him. "Can you stop them?"

"With the Song of Power," he said. "You may know it as
me Song of Day." He sang it, and it was another aspect of
the Llano, whose sheer power shook me night vision. The
melody banished the storm cloud and brought the light of day.
The skeletons tried to flee, but the sound caught diem and
shattered diem. The threat had been abated.

Orb flung her arms around him and kissed him. "You res-
cued me again!" she cried.

"It was my pleasure." It certainly was! But the vision was
only half done.

Two figures intercepted Orb the moment she reentered
me fish, alone. One was an emulation of Thanatos, and the
odier of Chronos. They warned her that Natasha could be a
demon in disguise, and should be tested. The real Natasha,
they explained, was a good man, but if a demon assumed
his form . . .

Orb, concerned, took dieir warning at face value. She in-
sisted on testing Natasha for demonic origin. He touched a
cross and sang a hymn, proving that he was no demon. Of
course die proof was a lie, because this was all a vision in
which anything could happen, but Orb did not know mat. She
was chagrined that she had doubted him.

Natasha walked out in righteous disgust.

The script had been honored perfectly. Now Orb was con-
vinced of Natasha's validity, and on die defensive because of
her prior doubt. She was crying when he left her.

He had made another giant step. But he hated himself, too.
It had required a heroic effort not to stop, to comfort her, to
tell her too much. He wished he could have told her me trudi,
but that would have ruined everything.

He took her on one more vision trip, an odyssey tour through
the tearing pages of alternate realities that concluded at a mock-
up of die Castle of War, where she encountered animations of
her former lover Mym, and of his rescued Princess Ligeia, and
of the demoness Lila. Naturally they endorsed Natasha but
warned her to beware of Satan's tricks. Then the vision staged
another crisis that Natasha came to resolve. Parry, acting firmly
on die side of Right, used his song to vanquish those in die




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Piers Anthony

Wrong. Then he sang her the Song of Evening, the romantic
theme of the Llano, and she was his. He had won her love.

But Orb had not yet assumed the office of the Incarnation
of Nature. He had to wait until mat was hers, because it was
important that he marry not merely a mortal woman but the
Incarnation. That was the liaison that would bring him the
power he required to overcome God.

Then she achieved it, and he asked her to marry him. But
he would not let her answer immediately. First he had to tell
her the truth. This was where it could all come apart.

"I am the Incarnation of Evil," he said.

Appalled, she stared at him.

He explained it all. Gradually she came to believe it.

"Get away from me," she said dully.

He left her. What would she decide?

The issue was in doubt. Orb was no longer merely a woman,
but was Gaea, perhaps the strongest of the Earthly Incarnations.
hi her rage at his deception she invoked the powers of me Uano,
which she had learned with a rapidity and competence he could
only envy. Her voice lent it force that he had never been able^to
evoke himself; that thing was dangerous! Now he truly appre-
ciated how she had come to the office of Nature; she had enor-
mous skill in the required music. But she was still new in office,
and playing with a horrendously potent instrument. The mortal
realm was rocked by savage affectations of weather—storm,
flood, fire, freezing, earthquake—destroying everything. He was
afraid she would finally invoke the most devastating aspect of
all, and render the cosmos back into complete chaos. It was ev-
ident that the love she had developed for Natasha had been ban-
ished by her realization of his true nature. Her fury at her betrayal
stemmed as much from embarrassment as from the scorning of
her love—for he had not scorned it, only deceived it.

He wished he had not. What had he accomplished except
the destruction of the mortal realm and the alienation of the
one he least desired to? The one who had the likeness of Jolie,
and the voice of rapture.

But she stopped just short of that, and repented her rage.
She asked Chronos to reverse what she had done. He explained

that he would have to have the agreement of all the major
Incarnations before he acted so significantly.

AB agreed—except Parry. He knew that his victory hinged
on this: that Gaea marry him and join her power to his. It was
not necessary that she love him, or he her, only that she marry
him. Now he had a lever that he would never be able to use
again: die fate of the mortal realm hung in the balance. Denied
her love, he could still have the victory he had sought. It might
be a victory mat tasted of ashes, but still could be genuine.

"Will you marry Me?" he asked her again.

Desperately she looked to her mother, Niobe. "What am I
to do?"

"You now know Satan for whom and what he is," Niobe
replied grimly. "Do you love him?"

Orb struggled with herself, but was helpless. "God help
me," she whispered brokenly, "for I do love Satan."

Shen-Aor?

Parry had a role to play, and he played it appropriately,
gaining me acquiescence of all the Incarnations to the union.
The victory was his!

But so was Orb's love. It had survived me revelation! That
shook him profoundly.

Chronos raised his Hourglass, its sand turning blue.

Then Parry was back in Hell, alone. All was undone. But
he remembered, as he had when Chronos had changed the
holocaust, because he was an Incarnation and a prime mover.

She loved him.

And he loved her. That realization smote him with peculiar
force. He had never intended to; his profession of love as
Natesha had been part of the construct of me lie. He had thought
himself immune to true love, subject only to passing fasci-
nations, after the loss of Jolie. He had been mistaken.

It was, he knew, her voice that had done it. He had not
anticipated anything like it; it reached into me secret essence
of him, moving him as his own voice had so often moved
others. Had the Angel Gabriel anticipated mat, too?

He realized that his careful snare for possession of Gaea's
power had reversed against him. He had promised Niobe never




296              PwfsAnthony

to harm Orb; now he knew that this had assumed more than
technical force. He had fallen into the trap of loving a good
woman—which meant he could no longer represent Evil. For
the two were incompatible on any amicable basis. He would
have to try to be worthy of Orb's love, as the true Satan could
never be.

There was only one way to do that.

He would have to abdicate his Office.

TRYST

Parry scripted the wedding ceremony as carefully as he had
the three visions; it was to be a splendid occasion. He set it
up in Hell's most elegant chamber, very like a cathedral. There
were arches and stained glass, and seats for me major Incar-
nations, all of whom were invited.

Having ascertained mat Heaven had improved its operations
somewhat in recent centuries, he orchestrated a mass release
of souls: all those who had earned their salvation but had
hesitated to depart the mock-Heaven annex. That should please
Orb, and he wanted very much to please her. Those souls were
organized into a massive choir; as they sang, they could come
to him and be freed in glows of light.

There was to be an audience, too: all the relatives and friends
of the bride, from all her walks of life. These included those
who were dead; he had made arrangements with Gabriel for
their temporary release from Heaven. The Angel had of course
cooperated, knowing what was to occur. The same was true
of the other Incarnations, who had caught on. Only Orb herself
was innocent, as perhaps was fitting.

The key to the ceremony was to be two songs: Orb's and his

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Piers Anthony

own. The songs were to be die final keys to their tove for each
other. Orb did not realize how literally true that was to be.

She sang the Song of Evening, which was also the Com-
pletion of Love. It was perhaps the most evocative rendition
of such a melody ever performed by a mortal, for not only was
she me finest female singer, enhanced by magic; she was truly
in love. The entire assembly responded to that feeling, and so
did he, reveling in the delight of the free recognition of her
love for him, and his love for her. All present knew that there
was no way that he could match this presentation.

But he could. He was the finest male singer, and he had
more than just love to express. He sang the one type of song
mat was forbidden to him: a hymn to God. Never mind that
God was not listening, and perhaps was not worthy; the wed-
ding party understood its significance. This was the supreme
act of sacrifice: me one way Satan himself could prove himself
worthy. As he sang, the choir of undamned souls joined him,
and flocked to him, enhancing his music, and were released
to Heaven.

Orb stared at him, gradually realizing that her belief in his
falsity was in error; mat he truly did love her. He sang directly
to her as he concluded. Now all the souls were gone, and his
own body was being destroyed by the power he had invoked.
He went out, literally, in flame.

He had sung himself knowingly into his doom. He had given
up his existence as an Incarnation, mat she might know, at the
end, mat his love had been true. He would never possess her,
and he had lost his challenge to God, but he had done what
he had to do.

He found himself in a kind of Limbo. It was not me outer
circle of HeU, but some special region evidently reserved for
fallen Incarnations. There were flames, but he was hardly aware
of mem, for none carried me intensity of the flame of his lost

love.

He was damned, of course; he would never be free of Hell.
He had spent more than seven hundred years as me Incarnation
of Evil. He had known at (he outset that there would be no
reprieve. Another person would assume me vacated Office,

and perhaps in some future century would need assistance and
would bring Parry out to serve. That was all he had to hope
for. Yet he did not regret it.

He had loved twice: once in life, and once as an Incarnation.
His demise abolished neither of these loves. His second love
had not replaced his first; it had merely joined it. His feeling
for Jolie now returned as strongly as it had been in life, without
conflicting with his feeling for Orb. He hoped that Jolie could
be at last released to Heaven, and that Orb would come to
accept his necessary desertion of her at the altar. He hoped,
too, that somehow the mortal suffering he had sought to ab-
breviate would be brought to an end despite his defection. He
had been the Master of Evil, and by definition what he had
done was wrong; but it had also been right, because of God's
dereliction. He felt no shame in being damned for that.

He hovered indefinitely, alone. This was evidently to be me
manner of his punishment: to be conscious and isolated, never
to know how things progressed in the mortal and immortal
realms. It was a terrible onus—but his love sustained him. No
punishment could make him regret what he had done.

Then someone came. His nebulous prison assumed the form
of a cell, and he became a man in chains. Some other mind
was shaping his situation.

It was Orb. She came as the Incarnation of Nature, as Gaea,
the Green Mother. Even Hell could not exclude her, when she
chose. She was lovely in the fashion only she could be, and
assured in a manner he had not observed when he courted her.
Background melody surrounded her an aspect of the Llano he
had not known of before, that evidently opened the way before
her wherever she chose to go. She had come into the authority
of her office.

He was powerless to move or even to speak. This, too, it
seemed, was part of his punishment. All he could do was gaze
at her. That was enough.

She approached him and took his hand, wordlessly. Her
contact was like tender fire. She lifted his hand and touched
the spot of blood on his wrist.

Nof he cried in sudden alarm. But he could neither voice it
nor resist.




300                PiersAwthoMy

Orb took the drop of blood from him and dropped his hand.

His wrist was bare.

She departed, and his cell dissolved into the formlessness
of its natural state. Only one thing had changed: he no longer

had Jolie.

Why had Orb done it? She could not have harbored any
jealousy toward his first love; Jolie was long dead, and he,

too, was dead now.
Yet perhaps this, too, was right. Jolie could not reside in

Hell. Perhaps Orb had freed her for Heaven.

Abruptly he was in a loud, bright chamber. He did not know
how much time had passed; part of the Hell of Limbo was its
timelessness. But he recognized mis place: it was the main
banquet hall, where occasional entertaining was performed.
Hell had very little use for such facilities other than as a mech-
anism to tempt potential converts: mortals with evil inclinations
but as yet insufficient evil actions. A little temptation could
go a long way to evoke their latent evil and cause it to manifest
in ways that clarified their status promptly. Evil had to be
proven in a mortal; it could not simply be assumed. Parry had
developed reasonably sophisticated routines to prove it.

He stood before a fat, middle-aged slob of a man, the refuse
of whose repast lay strewn all around. But a subtle kind of
grandeur suffused him, too, and Parry recognized it as the
stigmatum of immortality. This was the new Incarnation of

Evil.

"Say, now, it worked!" the man exclaimed, wiping a smear

of gravy from his mouth. "You're the has-been Satan!"

Parry nodded. "I am he."
"Listen, I need to know the spell for controlling demons,"

the man said.
Parry did not answer.

"Look, schnook, I know you know it! Out with it."
"It is a thing you must discover for yourself," Parry said.
"You had it pretty easy these last three weeks. I can put
you in some real fires, really toast your toes, know what I
mean? But I'll let you off easy if you tell me that spell."

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         301

'No."

"Dammit, that turd Ozzy what's-his-name don't pay any
attention to what I tell him. What do you want for that spell?"

"It is not for sale," Parry said.

The man gazed appraisingly at him. "Let me 'splain some-
thing', mac. When you bugged out, the office fell on the most
evil mortal in the world. I got it. I was on death row for the
one they caught me on—five-year-old nymphet whose head I
had to bash in 'fore she'd be quiet and let me finish, and then
she didn't die quite soon enough and she fingered me. My bad
luck. But I'm not choosy; I can make a grown man hurt as
bad as a child. It's a real thrill in the crotch, makin' some freak
scream that way. I've been catching on to the ropes here,
makin' the damned souls scream. They hurt as bad as live folk,
would you believe, and they can scream a lot longer before
poopin' out. I really like it here! But your Lucifer won't give
me the time of day, and neither will Mephis-what's-his-name,
and that creature Nefer-titties spat in my face. I need that spell!
What's your price?"

Parry turned away.

"Then roast, bugbrain!" the man screamed.

Parry was abruptly in the flames. They hurt terribly, but did
not actually bum him because he could not be physically dam-
aged here. No one could; pain and humiliation were all that
Hell offered. He bore it; he had no alternative.

Certainly he was not going to give that child-torturing slob
the secret! Such a monster might be evil, but he was no good
for the running of Hell. He was evidently spending all his time
gorging and torturing, not even trying to organize Hell or see
to any larger purpose.

Yet despite his current agony. Parry had some satisfaction.
Ozymandias and Lucifer and Mephistopheles refused to co-
operate with the new Incarnation, and Nefertiti had spit in his
face! Of course their attitude was routine; every new Incar-
nation had to earn his place. Still, it had been good to hear.

But still his major strength was in his love. He had given
up his office for love of Orb, and he would do it again, though
he bum in the flames forever! While his mind was on her, he




302 Pims Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 303

did not feel the flames. He only hoped that the other Incar-
nations would be able to prevent his replacement from doing
too much harm.

Another figure came. This time the flames did not abate.
Parry took this as a signal that mis was not an official visit.

It turned out to be a spider, swinging on an invisible thread.
The flames did not seem to affect it.

Only one spider could penetrate here: Fate. Parry tried to
speak, but could not. Neither could he move. It seemed that
only when he was brought out by the current Incarnation of
Evil could he talk or act.

The spider formed into Niobe. "Found you at last, son-in-
law," she whispered. "He hid you well, but you have friends
among the damned souls, and they told me."

What was she doing here? Why should she have searched
him out? He could not ask.

"As you may know, your successor is not a nice person,"
Niobe said. "We have learned something about you. The de-
moness is one of ours now, and she explained some things,
and JHVH volunteered some things, and our recent experience
confirmed them."

So he was to be stripped of his remaining secrets, too! Yet
Niobe was not the type to gloat. This excursion had to be risky
for her. What was her purpose?

"My daughter loves you, and she is your wife," Niobe
continued. "So there does seem to be a certain familial obli-
gation. There can never be a true union between the Incar-
nations of Evil and of Nature, but mere may be another way.
The others of us have concluded mat we would prefer to deal
with me old, familiar Evil, rather man the new and ugly one.
Of course none of us would care to state such a thing openly."

What was she saying? Parry hardly dared to believe!

"And I would not care to have this repeated, but there is a
question in some of our minds whether me one we serve is,
well, paying attention. We have operated on the assumption
mat He who is Good remained disengaged because He was
honoring the Covenant, while He who is Evil violated the

Covenant freely. Therefore we redressed that inequity by siding
with the honorable one. But now we are uncertain. There is a
certain interpretation that would reverse some implications."

She shrugged. "At any rate, the trial period for your suc-
cessor is drawing to a close, and he has not found the spell
he needs. He is apt to be replaced by another just as bad,
unless . . .

Unless Parry resumed the Office! He alone of me former
Incarnations of Evil could do that, because he had not yet
yielded his life and become a damned soul.

Niobe left her thought unfinished, knowing mat he under-
stood. But she had a qualification. "Yet a person needs to be
in an appropriate situation to assume an office. If he were, for
example, lost or mute, he would be unable to step in before
the office sought the greatest evil it could find. It seems that
me Office of Evil may be either grasped by the one who seeks
it or will drift to the most evil. The applicant who is closest
to the one who releases the Office has the first chance. There-
fore it is important mat an aspirant not be incapacitated at the
key moment."

She was right. The Office had to be grasped at the moment
it became available, or it would be lost. He had had Lilah's
guidance the first time, so had seized it without quite knowing
the significance. He could not do so from the incommunicado
confines of this dungeon.

"So I have brought a thread to lead you out," Niobe said
after a pause, to let him mink it through. She stretched out an
invisible line. "Follow it, and—"

"Ha! Caught you, old bag!" the Incarnation cried, appearing
between them. "I may be finished, but he'll never profit by
it!" He struck at her with a flaming pitchfork.

Niobe became the spider, and the spider vanished. She was
an Incarnation, but this was Hell, and she could not oppose
the Incarnation of this domain.

"And now you, pinhead!" the Incarnation cried, turning on
Parry. "You'll never get out!"

Magic flared, and Parry was carried away, helpless. The
Incarnation had not learned me demon-banishing spell, but he




304

Piers Alvthwy

FOR LOVE OF EVIL 305

had evidently picked up some of the lesser magic. Parry drifted
through swirling smoke for what seemed like an eternity before
coming to rest in a stifling environment.

He seemed to be in an aspect of chaos. Apparently die
Incarnation had discovered how to incorporate a bit of the Void
in Hell, and buried him in it. He knew Parry could not escape
it. The Incarnation was evil and ugly, but he had a certain
cunning about his own survival.

The thread had been lost. The Incarnation had struck at the
key moment, allowing Parry me torture of dawning hope ir-
redeemably destroyed. He would never find his way out in
time now!

Yet it was not a total loss. Though he would not resume his
office, he had the comfort of the knowledge that the other
Incarnations had had a change of heart about him, and that
Niobe herself accepted his status as husband to Orb. It was a
meaningless marriage, destined never to be consummated, yet
that acceptance buoyed him immeasurably. Perhaps he had, ID
his downfall, accomplished part of what he sought: to gain
some improvement in the processing of good and evil from
souls, minimizing the suffering of the mortals involved.

It could have been a second or a century, but it seemed
closer to the former. Another visitor came to him. This one
was neither woman nor spider, but rather a nebulous form
reminiscent of the nature of the Void. It overlapped him, and
then he recognized it.

Max! The Incarnation of Night, she who knew all secrets
and preserved most of them. Parry had not known she could
navigate chaos, but it made a certain sense in retrospect. She
was closest of all the Incarnations to that state herself.

«Here is what you lost.»

Something touched his hand. Then me ineffable presence
departed.

Parry considered what she had brought him. It was an almost
invisibly thin line of a web, the kind a spider might spin. What
had caused Nox to take me trouble to bring such a dung to
him? What could be her purpose? She was aloof from most
mortal and immortal concerns, and her business with him, by

her own assessment, remained unfinished. Yet she had not
chosen to complete it now.

Then he understood:

It was die thread!

He followed it. The thing was silken, perceptible only be-
cause he was attuned to it, hardly more than a thought. But it
led through me swirling randomness, even as Fate's thread had
guided Niobe through the Void. It was the single aspect of
diminished entropy in his vicinity. He followed its essentially
uphill guidance.

As he made progress through chaos, some anomalous for-
mulations occurred. There were shapes of objects in no par-
ticular order of classification. The outline of a rock drawn in
pastel, a squashed beer can, the curve of a naked woman's
hip, die stem of a rose, a crooked ray of starlight, die left eye
of a harpy, a sprouting grain of wheat, one drop of rain, a
purpling bruise on me shoulder of a rabbit, a torn page of a
calendar marking Friday me mirteenth. He passed it all, di-
verted by none of it, following the thread.

Then land appeared, a shore, and he was swimming in a
disgustingly polluted stream. It was the River Acheron, the
waters of woe diat coursed around much of Hell proper, having
no true egress. But it was familiar; now he knew approximately
where he was.

He landed near me station of die three Judges, and diere
they were, dispensing me justice of die infernal region to ar-
riving souls, classifying me difficult cases. Minos, formerly
King of Crete, who had the Minotaur, die terrible offspring of
his wife's passion for a bull. Rhadamanthus, his brother, noted
for his fairness. Aeacus, formerly the King of Pydlia, noted
for his piety. They were good judges, and Pany had left them
in place, extending their authority.

Parry could not return to Hell proper widiout passing by die
Judges; he himself had organized Hell this way, so diat no
damned souls escaped proper classification. Some who came
to Hell were actually destined for Heaven, and the Judges had
unerringly identified these and assigned diem to mock Heaven
until they were willing to travel on. Most of mem had done




306 Pwvs Alimony

so, at the time of Parry's wedding ceremony, but more souls
arrived constantly, and the business of the Judges was never
finished.

They could not fail to recognize him, no matter what form
he assumed, for the Judges read not me physical appearance
but the soul. If they turned him in ...

He joined me line of souls, and followed it gradually to its
head.

Minos glanced at him. His gaze paused momentarily, then
moved on, as if there were nothing out of the ordinary. "Pass
to Limbo," he said tersely.

They were not giving him away! Parry passed on, as if be
were one of the regular damned souls.

He came next to Cerberus, the three-headed dog he had
assigned to be me guardian of the main gate. It had been some
centuries since he had had contact with me huge beast, and \
since me Judges passed him, he should be able to walk by '
without challenge, unrecognized.

"Ha!"

It was the Incarnation again. The cunning slob had been ;

watching the main entrance, just in case.                   j

"After him, dawg—destroy him!" the Incarnation cried.  |

Cerberus, not knowing any better, obeyed the voice of au- |
thorny. He launched himself at Parry.

Now Parry wished die dog had remembered him! He had
to escape—and that was no easy dung to do. Cerberus could
not kill him, of course, but he could tear Parry's apparent body
to bits, and it would be a day before those bits reformed. That
could be too long; the Incarnation was near me end of his trial
period, and could be ousted at any point. If Parry wasn't
ready—

Parry dived back into the River Acheron. Cerberus followed,
intent on his prey. One head watched above the surface, another
looked back, and the third plunged under the surface to watch
there, too. He was a good strong swimmer; in a moment he
would overhaul Parry and chomp him.

Parry changed into a dirty brown fish. Now he had cam-
ouflage to match his environment, and was able to outswim
the dog.

FORLOVEWSVIL         307

"Ob, no, you don't!" the Incarnation screamed from the
bank. "I'll take you out if it's the last dung I do, you a-hote!"

He leaped into the water himself, and became a great while
shark.

This was bad news! Parry had not realized that the Incar-
nation had learned shape-changing. It was not difficult, in Hell,
for one in authority; he just had trusted that the Incarnation
would have spent too much time in gorging himself and raping
child souls to master it. Perhaps someone had provided me
Incarnation with good advice, just as Lilah had for Parry in
the early days. There were always damned souls eager to gain
preferred treatment by pleasing die Master. Hell was hardly
die place for honor or principle.

The shark was gaining on him, and its teeth were ready. He
could not escape it by diving low, and it would be useless to
remain on me surface. He would have to change form.

But mere was a problem here, because it took proper con-
centration to change form, and his body would stop swimming
for a moment while he did it. The shark was now so close mat
it would snap him up at the first pause. Also, he would have
to change to some form mat could handle the water, or else
launch into the air as a bud—and me Incarnation would simply
change, too, and continue the pursuit. Because Parry now had
the effective status of a damned soul, he could not match the
Incarnation in direct combat; his strength, agility and speed
would be less even if die forms were identical.

But he could change to some similar type and size of fish
with little pause, and the water was as good a way to travel
through Hell as any. If he could just slip away into some
bypath, so mat me Incarnation would lose him . . .

No, suddenly he had a better idea! He could lead me In-
carnation into a special trap, and settle the matter immediately.
He surely had a better notion of the river channels man the
Incarnation did, for Parry had dictated their courses. He had
inherited a Hell that was archaically and inconsistently orga-
nized, and seen to its improvement; even though he had not
paid much attention to such details in centuries, he knew as
much as he needed to.

He shifted to a slimmer, faster form of fish, and began to




308 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 309

gain. Here in the polluted water that was enchanted to prevent
damned souls from fleeing Hell, conjuring magic did not work
well; that was why Parry could not escape that way, and why
the Incarnation could not banish him back to the Void. They
had to settle matters right here.

The Incarnation saw this, and modified his own form. He
became a slimmer, faster shark. He began to gain again. He
was probably enjoying the chase, believing that the end was
inevitable. After all, there was nowhere within the confines of
Hell that any soul could escape the Incarnation of Evil.

But Parry knew where he was going. He dodged and turned,
staying just ahead of the shark's jaws, then abruptly swerved
into a tributary stream.

This was the Phlegethon, the River of Fire. Flames hovered
over its surface, and its waters were boiling hot. But even as
he entered. Parry modified to the form of a firefish, which
thrived in such heat. The Incarnation, caught by surprise, paused,
then did likewise, simply copying Parry's form.

That strategy would enable the Incarnation to follow him
anywhere, and the Incarnation's greater strength would ensure
a closing of the gap between them. But Parry had gained a
critical bit of time. Perhaps more important, he had established
that he had to be closely followed, and by a like form, or he
would escape. That would gain him a reprieve, but not victory;

the Incarnation would simply reorient on his soul and chase
him down again, like a cat playing with a mouse. Assuming
the Incarnation had mastered the soul-tracing magic. If by
chance he had not—

He looped swiftly back, swimming downstream and giving
the Incarnation the temporary slip. But in a moment the other
fish was back on his trail. Obviously the Incarnation had a lock
on his identity, and could sniff him out anywhere. So much
for that faint hope.

He reentered the Acheron, modifying his fish form again.
The Incarnation followed, matching both course and detail.

Then Parry dodged into the Kokytus, the frozen river. He
modified his form to handle me cold, becoming a small ice
fish. The Incarnation did likewise, hardly losing time.

This time Parry did not double back. He forged upstream,
under the ice, dodging boulders in the water, trying to hide in
the tricky nether currents. But the Incarnation was not to be
deceived. He followed every bypath, coming steadily closer.
There could be no escape into the headwaters, for Parry would
be slowed, or he would have to change form and leave die
river, and would be caught when he tried.

As he swam, he made a spell. It was a quiet one that did
not affect his form or his nature, and he hoped it went unnot-
iced. This was the critical stage; if die Incarnation caught on
to where Parry was leading, or what die effect would be, or
how to nullify it as Parry had just done, then all would be lost.
But die Incarnation lacked experience in Hell; Parry was count-
ing on that.

Abruptly he swam into a new tributary, one whose waters
were not frozen. He intensified his spell, though the effort
slowed him.

The Incarnation followed, his jaws opening. Once he caught
hold. Parry would not be able to escape. They both knew mat.
This was die finale.

Then die Incarnation slowed, seeming dazed. He began to
swim aimlessly. He moved to die side to nibble at a succulent
bit of vegetation.

Was it a ruse? Or was it die finish? It would soon enough
be evident.

Parry reversed, and swam downriver. There was no pursuit.
He came to die River Kokytus needing no further modification
for die cold. He swam all die way back down to me River
Acheron before venturing to die shore and changing back to
his human form.

He climbed to the bank. "I, Satan, reclaim My office," he
proclaimed. He felt the power returning to him. He had been
in time. He was once more me Incarnation of Evil.

He conjured himself to the center of Hell. Ozymandias looked
up from his desk. "My Lord, You have returned," he said
respectfully, as if it were a routine occurrence. "But if I may
inquire—?"

"I led him into the River Ledie," Pany explained. "I used




310

FOR LOVE OF EVIL         311

Piers Anthony

a spell to protect myself from its property of forgetfulness. It
may be that he did not know that spell, or realize where he

was."

"That may be," Ozymandias agreed. "Have You new or-
ders, Satan?"

"Revert to My standing ones," Parry said. "Whatever dam-
age the usurper has done, reverse it."

"As You wish." Then, slowly, Ozymandias smiled. He
was glad to have the old order back.

Thanks to the help of Niobe and Nox, Parry was back in
office. That was a considerable gratification—yet there was
emptiness, too, for he knew that his change in circumstance
could not restore to him his love. He had lost both Jolie and
Orb; that had been understood when the other Incarnations
helped him to recover. He had a mission to accomplish, and
he would try his best, knowing the others would give no further
quarter and expected none. But he would have traded it all for
die other. Indeed, had traded it all for the other, one month

ago.

After a busy day of reorganizing and reestablishing. Parry

retired alone. He did not need sleep, but he hoped to obtain
some anyway. Perhaps it would help dull the emptiness.

Then someone came to him. He realized immediately that
it was an undamned soul, for it shone in a manner no damned
soul could. How had it been admitted to Hell? The guardians
should not have permitted it, and Ozymandias would never
have authorized it. Only another Incarnation could—

The figure came close. It was a woman of shapely propor-
tion. "Parry," she said.

What? He recognized mat voice! Yet it was impossible.

She drew off her hood, showing her honey hair, and then
her face. Her eyes were gray-green.

Parry stared, for a moment too amazed to speak.

"Yes, it is I," Jolie said. "I have returned to you, my love."

"But—I married another—I thought—"

Her expression changed. "Parry, you know that Gaea can
never have a relationship with Satan, though she be technically
married to him. That marriage must remain unconsummated,

so that there is no question of undue influence. But there is no
need for my marriage to you to be so. I love you as she does.
Will you accept me back?"

He got up and enfolded her. "Oh, Jolie, yes! I thought you
were forever lost. I do still love you—but I love her, too. If
you can accept that—"

"I can accept that," she said, and kissed him.

For a moment his mind wandered, piecing out what had
happened. Things fell abruptly together. Orb had taken die
drop of blood containing Jolie's soul. Jolie could animate a
living body, if given leave by die host of me body. There was
only one person who would know that, and who would give
that leave. One who loved him as Jolie did, and could not
come to him. One whom he could never possess, because they
were forever on opposite sides.

"But I can stay only the night," Jolie said. "And not every
night. And it must be secret. A tryst others do not know about.''

"A tryst," he agreed. "And—when you leave Me—if you
would convey My thanks to die one whose body you borrow
for what she—"

"She knows." For that time only die voice was that of an
Incarnation. But the love in it was unchanged.

He kissed her once more, knowing that he had been doubly
blessed. He would never be lonely again.




FOR LOVE OF EVIL         313

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I expect to address three types of readers in this novel. One is
the person who has not read the prior five novels in this series,
and perhaps has not heard of me before. For that one I need
to have a story that stands pretty much by itself and is not
confusing. Since this novel refers back to many episodes cov-
ered in the prior novels, shown from other viewpoints, this
means I must cover those scenes-adequately so that there are
not gaps. I have tried to do that. Another type of reader is the
one who has read some of the prior volumes but not recently;

that one needs refreshment of key elements without undue
repetition. I have tried to do that too. The third reader is the
one who saved up all the prior volumes and has just read them
rapidly in order, hitting this one fully primed with all the details
fresh. For that one I should avoid repetition, because it would
be wasting his time. That proved to be impossible to do. So I
did what I deem to be the next best thing: I show those scenes
from a fresh viewpoint, and evoke new interpretations of their
significance. I realize that critics, who seem to exist on worm-
wood, will castigate me for supposedly running out of inspi-
ration and copying from myself, but I hope that my real readers
will bear with me on the necessary and often difficult com-


promises I have made. The mortal realm is rife with compro-
mise.

This is the sixth and penultimate Incarnations of Immortality
novel. The subject of the final one. And Eternity, may be
surmised, but its approach will differ. I had originally planned
on just five, but realized as I worked through mem mat die
story was not going to be complete, so extended it. I have
already been accused of doing it just for the money. Well, it
is true there is money involved, and a pretty penny too; it is
also true that I earn my living by ray writing, and would go
broke if I did not get paid for it. I am not sure why a writer
should be condemned for making money when others are not.
The question should be whether the money is made in a licit
and socially positive manner. I remind readers of Samuel John-
son's remark on the subject: "No man but a blockhead ever
wrote except for money."

As I have mentioned in prior Notes, I have no belief in me
supernatural. These novels are unabashed fantasy. Some of
you have written to object to my atheism. I do not treat such
letters kindly, because I am not an atheist. I am an agnostic:

one who has not come to a conclusion about the validity of
me existing theories of Deity and Afterlife. I regard them as
unproven, and I feel free to represent them in my fiction in
whatever manner is condusive to the narration of an entertain-
ing and sometimes thought-provoking story. In short, I am
having fun, and I hope that my readers are too.

But as I have also mentioned, (here seems to be suspicious
coincidence occurring as I write these novels. #1 concerned
Death, and death impinged on my life. #2 related to Time,
and I had my worst time-squeeze of recent years. #3 was about
Fate, and I described the devious route that brought me to this
series. #4 was War, and warlike matters intruded, even threat-
ening the publication of the novel. #5 was Nature, and I felt
that impact too. This one is Evil, and hang on, because the
curse is still viable.

You might assume that Satan would not be pleased by an
expose of his nature, since he uses deceit to forward his cause.
Therefore Satan would do his best to interfere with the writing
of a novel like this. This seems to have been the case, because




314 Piers Anthony FOR LOVE OF EVIL 315

I encountered a horrendous sequence of interferences. Some
were funny; some were tragic. Let me see if I can cover this
without becoming tedious.

Circumstances of a unique nature caused me to sign contracts
for eight new fantasy novels at a time when I had intended to
be working in science fiction, honor and a major historical
project. The SP and horror had to be postponed, to my regret,
but I refused to do that with me historical effort. So I undertook
to catch up on the fantasy, and the historical, and certain other
projects (a collaborative novel, a rework of an old unpublished
novel, and some stories) in me course of three years. With the
computer it is feasible, but I knew I would have to step right
along.

Step along I did. This is actually the fifth novel I'm com-
pleting in this calendar year, which, along with the stories,
mean about 600,000 words aggregate. That's as much as I've
ever done in a single year, and more than I hope to do in any
future year, because I am jammed up against me limit of what
I can do without compromising me standards I maintain. There
are those who assume that a prolific writer must be a hack:

that is, one who chums out anything he can sell, just to keep
the pot boiling. Perhaps some writers are; I am not. I care
about every project I'm in, and I have changed publishers more
than once when their editors interfered unduly with my text.
I do not claim to be the best writer extant, merely one who is
doing the best he can with his talent, situation and creative/
ethical needs. I don't like to be crowded in my writing.

I allowed three months for Evil: OctOgre, NoRemember and
DisMember, 1986. I started on schedule. But as it happened,
I had gotten crowded in my computer, so was expanding my
system's capacity. I doubled its memory to 512 K, and its
storage to 20 MB. Don't worry about the figures if you are
not into computers; just accept that they are solid ones in the
middle range of such dungs. But we discovered that my op-
erating system could not address either of these new totals. I
could not use much more than I had before—unless I changed
operating systems.

Back in the fourth novel of this series I discussed me two
major operating systems this computer can use. One I likened

to an old retired seaman. Captain Manager, known colloquially
as CP/M, who maintained a sixteen-storey (as he spells it)
apartment building, each floor of which could house a nice
apartment complex. He called the occupants "users" and pro-
vided well for then: individual tastes, as long as they paid their
rentals. The other I likened to a somewhat prim lady, Ms DOS,
also called MS-DOS, who distrusted apartment buildings and
preferred to maintain an intricate garden through which passed
many paths. People could reside along these paths, each having
his own personal access and directory of his flowers. I happened
to be with the Captain, and did not try Ms DOS because she
lacked a feature I liked, called MAINT, that made file house-
keeping easy.

But now it was time to make the change, because while me
Captain had not renovated his building in years and refused to
cater to my need for greater memory and storage, Ms DOS
promised to be more accommodating. So, not without trepi-
dation, I moved out of my comfortable apartments OB the lower
floors and went to the Garden. My wife and daughters, satisfied
with the building, remained on their upper storeys; they had
no large files to process. Thus I left my family behind, though
my wife did keep a certain eye on me from the window. Ms
DOS, though prim by day, seems young and healthy; you never
can tell.

But you don't just step from one operating system to another.
Ms DOS and the Captain hardly recognized each other's pro-
grams. I had to get new software to function in the Garden.
That proved to be more complicated than anticipated, and it
was one of the things that slowed progress on mis novel. For
this is my first novel on DOS, and all the tribulations of learning
occurred here.

Remember how I had to go to Finland for my keyboard,
because I use a modified Dvorak that could not be generated
on my American keyboard? I moved to the Finnish keyboard
and reconfigured that, thanks to my wife's expertise. Well, I
got Smartkey for DOS, but when I invoked me Finnish key-
board it glitched. I had to strike each key twice to make it
register. My wife had no such problem. It turned out, after
trial and error, that mis is a phenomenon that occurs only in




316

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

317

DOS, with die Finnish keyboard, with Smartkey. Eliminate
any one of those three, and dungs are normal. I don't know
why dlis effect exists, and doubt diat anyone else does; I'm
die only one ornery enough to go to Finland just to get my
capital V's and W's. "You know," I told my wife, "the
Swedish keyboard is identical to the Finnish keyboard, except
for some markings on die surfaces of die physical keys diat
would have no bearing on dris. But, just in case—" And would
you believe, die interference was gone on die Swedish key-
board. Everydiing worked perfecdy. Thus I moved from Fin-
land to Sweden, as well as from CP/M to MS-DOS.

I still needed a word-processing program for DOS. I liked
die one I had in CP/M, Edward, diat enabled me to call up as
many as fourteen different files at once, and allowed me to put
my functions wherever I wished. I refused to give up diose
features. So I hired die proprietor to customize Edward for me
in MS-DOS. It cost about a thousand dollars, and there were
a number of glitches to debug, but I got it. I was on my way
in DOS!

Now a diversion; don't worry, it does, deviously, connect.
At die end of OctOgre I attended die local science fiction
convention, NECRONOMICON, as a Guest of Honor. I had
been diere diree years before, and dlis time their odier GOH
was Fred Pohl, a leading figure in die genre. So I arranged to
interview him for an audience, and really looked forward to
it, because I had some most provocative questions to which I
knew he had excellent answers. But Satan struck: Fred's wife
had a heart attack, and Fred had to cancel just one week before
die convention. Thus die disappointed fans had to setde for
just me. Oh, mey were nice enough about it, but it was too
bad.

At diat convention my daughter Penny and I had die pleasure
of taking Andre Norton and her associate Ingrid Zeirhut to
lunch. Penny and I and Ingrid are vegetarians; Andre loves
cats and I hate cats (but cats love me), so it was interesting,
especially when we shared a panel later.

I was on several panels, and on one of diem was Lois Wick-
strom, co-editor of a small press magazine, PANDORA. I thought
noming of it until in casual conversation I learned diat she was

die omer local writer who uses die Dvorak keyboard. Imme-
diately we were comparing notes. I'm on me DEC Rainbow
computer; she is on an IBM compatible. I had a program diat
enabled me to call up fourteen files; hers called up twenty-four
files, with windows between diem. I could move my functions
around; so could she, and also modify their operations. Well,
now! I had just paid a thousand dollars to adapt mine to DOS,
and it seemed hers was better at four hundred dollars. True,
hers had a feature I didn't like, batch formatting, mat requires
you to plug in many codes mat change die text about before
printing, but it was also one of die most powerful and versatile
word-processing programs extant. Satan had timed it widi in-
fernal cunning, waiting until just after I had gotten what I
wanted before dangling a new program before me.

Her program was FinalWord II, put out by Mark of die
Umcom. In my letter ordering it, I said, "It is die wrong reason
to make a purchase, I know, but I am intrigued by me name
of your company. You see, I am a fantasy novelist widi whole
herds of unicorns in my fiction ..." Their response was to
bounce back our check, because they were changing uieir name
to eradicate die Unicorn. What a slap in die face! Satan just
couldn't resist diat fillip. (And here I thought diat unicorns
were a protected species.)

So this may be my first novel in MS-DOS and my last widi
Edward. But I shall remain widi Ms DOS, because she has
succeeded in seducing me away from die Captain. Ms DOS
conies on like a cranky old bat; she even has files suffixed
".bat" to run her errands. Every time you start her up, you
have to check in widi die exact date and time, a nuisance me
Captain did not require. You have to type in a "Pam" or she
refuses to provide service to your distant sites. When you want
to print something she always asks whether you mean it, die
first time, and you have to agree mat yes, it if die printer you
want to use. She's like an old-fashioned schoolmarm: every-
thing has to be exactly her way. But if you are willing to abide
by her rules, she will do a lot for you. More dian die Captain
will, if you want die scandalous truth.

I see my wife is getting suspicious, so I'd better give a tor-
instance or two. One is diat most of the software outfits have




318             Piers Awthwiy                                 FOR LOVE OF EVIL

319

gravitated to Ms DOS. The Captain changes his clothing seldom
if ever, while Ms DOS is very attentive to software. Thus (he
companies just naturally do more business with her. This means
that if you want something like, for instance, a sophisticated
interactive spelling program, you will find maybe two or three
old ones moldering on me Captain's shelf, but dozens of fancy
new ones on Ms Dos's shelves. I had to go to customizing to
get the kind of wold-processing program I wanted in CP/M,
and realized just too late that mat wasn't necessary in MS-
DOS. Another is those .bat files: these are little programs you
type up yourself, saying do mis, do mat, and then do the other.
Then when you summon a bat (it is actually short for' 'batch"),
it flies in on its leathery wings and does me job for you. There
is even a vampire bat mat invokes itself when you start up,
and it takes care of me nuisance about me date and time and
path, and anything else you want, right through setting you up
with your daily program and files. In short, you can automate,
and no longer be bothered with the mundane details.

But learning all me nuances, and adapting to the new
ways—that does take time. My work was correspondingly
slowed. It was fun learning Ms Dos's intimate little secrets,
but I really would have been moving faster with the old familiar
Captain. Satan knew that, and kept feeding me new distractions
when I threatened to start getting ahead on the novel. For
example, I obtained some freeware programs in DOS. Free-
ware or shareware are programs mat you don't have to buy,
except sometimes to pay me cost of me disk on which they
come, but if you find them useful you may send money anyway;

it's me decent thing to do. One was a MAINT program for
DOS, so mat I could handle my files as readily as I could in
CP/M. Another was a Squeeze program that—no, don't get
ahead of me, Ms DOS isn't that friendly—enables you to squish
files down to about half size for more efficient storage, and to
unsqueeze at need. Another was a program to translate files
back and form between MS-DOS and CP/M; that could be
handy in our divided family. Nice enough stuff—but my novel
was dragging.

SOD, I managed to complete the first four chapters in OctOgrc,
which wasn't too far behind schedule. After all, I had research

to do, which is always fascinating but slow. Then I hit a run
of distractions, so that Chapter 5 took me three weeks, putting
me a couple of weeks behind. What happened? Well, there
was that convention I mentioned; I only go to one a year, and
that was the one this year. Right after that I had to proofread
me galleys for one of my novels, and that always takes time
because I'm a slow reader and I do it carefully. We also had
a morning with the state forester, because we own property
we'd like to get classified as a tree farm, but first it has to be
surveyed and approved for that. And a day to go to Tampa to
meet my new British agent, Pamela Buckmaster. My old agent
Leslie Flood, was retiring, and she was taking over his practice,
and had flown to Florida just to meet me. Virtually all of my
non-American sales will be passing through her, and there was
at least one six-figure deal in the offing, so this was a necessary
ming. Then another slew of mail struck, taking days to answer;

I answered about 385 letters while working on this novel, and
though I cram most down to cards, I figure the average letter
takes half an hour. There was also my big historical project,
Tatham Mound; my sweet-sixteen daughter Cheryl was helping
excavate the Mound on which the novel was to be based, and
I would go out Sunday afternoons to leam new developments.
It's a good and significant project, but those are afternoons that
I don't make progress on mis current novel. My printerglitohed,
printing increasingly worse, and we had to have the repairman
in to fix it; yet more time expended. By the end ofNoRemember
I was exactly halfway through the novel, way behind schedule.

Ouch; why so slow?

I made notes on a single day near the end of that three-week
slowdown, just to get it straight: NoRemember 19, 1986. I
was ready to start on Chapter 6, but was annoyed by a few
little glitches in DOS, such as the BACKUP program mat puts
all your directories and files on a disk to be saved, but whose
RESTORE function simply did not work. Apparently Ms DOS
has a RESTORE program, but it had not been implemented
on our version of DOS, unbeknownst to the writers of the
instructions. That's a cute little oversight that can have decid-
edly uncute complications; it's like putting all your savings in
the bank, then discovering that the bank will not let you take




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321

any out when you need it. My wife, after a struggle, finally
figured out an alternate way to get the material back, and I
wanted to make a note of the exact sequence, so that we would
not have to go through this mess again. So I started my own
sheet of instructions that included this and all the other devi-
ances and omissions the engineers never bothered to fix. But
this took time, because I had to test and double-check every-
thing to be sure there was no error, because in an emergency
I had to know exactly what worked. This took an hour and a
half. But at least it was done, and I set up to start the
chapter—

And the UPS truck chose that moment to deliver the Elite
font we had ordered. There went another two and a half hours,
getting it ironed out. The thing worked well on letter-quality
but not on draft-quality printing. Since I use both for my cards,
we had to research in the manuals for a special, obscure code
to fix that. Any session with a manual is time-consuming,
because manuals are scripted by demons in Hell to torment
mortals. Then I discovered that the font had no if. symbol. Now
I use that on some of my cards: I have a macro that prints out
a XANTH 2« stamp on those cards that don't require mundane
postage. What was I to do with no 0? I finally decided, with
bad grace, to substitute the letter c, hoping no one would notice
the difference between 2<f. and 2c. Meanwhile I did my three-
mile exercise run, and then took an hour to read the mail,
because another pile of letters was in; then I went ahead and
used the new font to answer ten of them, washing out me rest
of the day. I had never quite gotten down to paying work;

Satan had, with magnificent timing, stepped in to introduce
some new distraction every time I got close.

But my day did not end there. In me evening it rained, and
when it rained it poured—and there was a leak in our roof. I
remembered the day that had been made, because we had heari
a thunk, and I had gone up to check where a falling branch
had punctured the roofing, but we hoped it might still be wa-
tertight. It was the same day that a dead cat turned up in our
yard, and I had to bury it. Our dogs don't like cats, but the
neighbors' cats choose not to believe that; we heard a horren-
dous commotion in the night, and this was the result. So now

we had the verification: the roof was no longer tight. Sigh. I
went down to check our rain gauge—two inches—and on the
way saw a gourd I had overlooked. You see, this year a seed
sprouted from some buried garbage and it turned out to be a
hypnogourd, a species seldom seen outside the Land of Xanth,
Its vines grew at the rate of ten inches a day—yes, I
measured—and it produced about twenty handsome gourds
scattered across our yard. They look and taste rather like but-
ternut squash. No, of course we did not look into any peep-
holes! But this shows how I can't even go to check rain without
evoking all manner of oddities.

I turned in, reading myself to sleep on The Blood of Ten
Chiefs, in which a story of mine appears. Then, at 1:50 A.M.,
the phone rang: a fan calling from Minnesota to talk with me.
My wife put him off, for I was dead to the world; I keep regular
hours, and am up before 6:00 A.M. regardless. Next year we
plan to build on our tree farm and move there; we shall, with
regret, also move to a post-office box so fans can't locate me
and drop in uninvited and we shall get an unlisted phone, so
that we can sleep at night.

That is the story of how I failed to do any paying-work that
day, completing three weeks of much the same. It was obvious
that Satan had no intention of allowing me to work on this
novel in peace. Nevertheless, I buckled down to it, and wrapped
up the novel Christmas Eve: eight more chapters in twenty-
four days. Late Christmas Day I started this Author's Note.

But there were longer-range things to handle, too, all surely
the mischief of Satan. One was my shoulder. During the last
novel in this series I developed tenonitis (also spelled tendi-
nitis), an inflammation of the tendon that causes pain when I
move my arm beyond a certain range. I finally got a shot that
reversed it, and it retreated grudgingly for about six months,
then transferred from my right shoulder to my left shoulder.
So now I am in the same condition, other side; the things I
had to leam to do left-handed I now am relearning right-handed.
After two visits to the doctor, I am now on pills that may be
having some effect. Pain is a fact of my life now; I get a surge
of it when I change my T-shirt or put on or off my jacket or
reach for the salt. But I have discovered this about that: pain




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323

is not to be feared or loathed. I know when I will incur it, and
its approximate degree, and it is under control; if it hurts too
much to remove my jacket one way, I try another way, and
eventually I discover a compromise that enables me to get
through. When it wakes me at night, I change position until
it subsides, and go back to sleep until the next time. I am used
to it and can live with it. I don't like using drugs if I can avoid
mem, so I don't take any for this apart from the doctor's
prescription. My arm exercises have been wiped out, but I
discover that I feel more relaxed without those strenous ex-
ertions; I lost my tension along with my muscle. I have always
driven hard, and increasingly my body has been reacting against
it; perhaps it is time to ease off somewhat. Thus the end of
much of my physical program does not after all signal the end
of my health, merely me onset of a different stage of it. So
there, Satan!

We still have horses, but dungs have been changing. Penny's
horse Blue, die model for a unicorn and a night mare in my
fantasies, is now coming into age twenty-nine, which is old
for a horse. She's still spry, though her head is turning gray.
But her companion. Misty, suffered a leg ailment, and walking
or standing became hard for her. Finally I had to bring water,
hay and reed to her where she lay, and for six months she
survived dial way. We had to fence Blue away from her, to
prevent Blue from taking die food and allowing none to Misty.
But horses need equine company; Blue would stand all day at
die nearest part of me pasture to Misty, just watching, not
grazing. This was no good for her. Misty continued to worsen,
and die veterinarian said that her lung was collapsing because
of her position; a horse needs to be afoot. So, with reluctance
we had him give her die shot that put her away; it was our
judgment mat death would at mis stage be a mercy for her.
We buried her mere in me pasture.

We needed company for Blue, and die vet had a spare horse.
He brought her when he came to see Misty. This was Fantasy,
a brown Arabian with a perfect white shield on her forehead
two and a half inches across. She was a beautiful animal with
papers who would have been an expensive show horse, but for
a serious illness in her youdi mat caused her hind end to be

somewhat deformed and perhaps had damaged her lungs. So
she could not be ridden or bred, and her value was reduced to
zero dollars—but she was alert and friendly and excellent com-
pany. In short, die perfect replacement companion for Blue.
We liked her immediately, and after a night and day of squeal-
ing to establish just who was to be boss of me pasture. Blue
did too. Now at last our farthest and greenest pastures were
being grazed, and die two were always together.

Until dus novel. Then trouble struck in die most painful way
yet: at lovely Fantasy. She abruptly developed a heart problem.
We were amazed and chagrined; if ewer a horse did not deserve
this, it was Fantasy. Her body was swelling as her heart was
unable to clear die blood loop to her lungs, and her appetite
was failing. The prognosis was doubtful; medication was not
effective and it was obvious that dus could not continue long.
The vet came and took her away, hoping to treat her wim
techniques out could not be done in the field; if they were
effective, she might survive. Damn you, Satan.

We needed company again for Blue. This time die vet brought
a pony who had been left wim him to be boarded for a month.
Five monms passed, and die owner never returned to pick her
up. Her name was unknown. So we took over die boarding,
knowing mat at any time die owner could come to claim her.
But it was a calculated risk; after all mat time, me chances
were diminishing. She is white (I don't care what the supposed
experts say about mere being no white horses) and plump,
trained for children to ride, and so short mat her tail drags on
me ground. We named her Snowflake, after a white foal in
my novel Blue Adept, and she fitted right in. Blue gave her
me word about just who was boss of die pasture, and that was
that; when frightened, Snowflake would go hide behind Blue.
At dus writing Snowflake has been with us a month, and dus
novel is just about done. The farthest pastures are being grazed
again, and die two run togedier—Blue loves to run—and it
looks as if we're all right.

There has also been human development. During mis novel
I received unpleasant news about Cousin Dick. Let me clarify
me background. Cousin Dick is actually my fifth cousin, about
fifteen years my senior, we got in touch because of a mutual




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Piers Anthony

interest in genealogy, researching our Jacob lineage. We had
the same great-great-great-great grandfather. Cousin Dick had
aspired to be a writer, and had tried a year or so doing full
tune writing of fiction, with the understanding that if he did
not make it, he would give up that ambition and concentrate
instead on making money. He did not make it, and so he went
into mundane work and provided for his family quite nicely.
But there was always that regret: suppose he had made it? How
would his career as a writer have gone? There may be myriads
of folk with similar ambition and similar disappointment; failed
writers are a dime a dozen, and no one seems to care about
their stifled dreams. But then, independently, I tried the same
thing—and succeeded. Thus, in a manner, I represented the
answer, for I had similar lineage and ambition, and a roughly
similar personal history. We compared notes in some detail. I
believe, to a degree, he regarded me as the fulfilment of his
dream, while I regarded him as my alternate course, the one
I did not take, about fifteen years ahead. Thus our correspon-
dence, always amicable, had a certain extra element; we un-
derstood each other on a deeper level than is usual. He visited,
and met my daughters, and of course he knew other members
of my branch of the family. I believe everyone liked him. He
was always alert for the appearance of my novels, and some-
times sent reviews I had missed.

But now the news was grim. Cousin Dick had lung cancer,
and brain tumors, and was having seizures. "It's a hell of a
way to live," he wrote in NoRemember, "but after 66 years
of comfortable health, it seems to be my turn." Then, the day
before Christmas, as I completed Chapter 16,1 had news from
his daughter: Cousin Dick was dead. One of me last conver-
sations he had had with her was about the third volume in this
series. With a Tangled Skein, and its Author's Note, which
covered my own tangled skein of life. Damn you, Satan!

Let's conclude on a lighter note: the tangled skein of lesser
events and impressions occurring while I worked on this novel.
Satan uses honey as much as vinegar to distract me. My life
is filled to the brim with minutiae. Such as requests for visits
and talks. I attended a teenage girl's birthday party: she had
been in an automobile crash mat affected her memory, so that

she could not retain new experiences. She liked my fantasy,
so they hoped that if I was there, it would give her something "
special to remember. If she returned to the hospital, and re-
membered, they would know she was mending. So I went,
bringing her some of my books and a Xanth Calendar, and
they had video cameras of die party, so as to refresh her mem-
ory. She did improve, and I hope I helped. I also addressed a
college class about story writing, reading an excerpt from my
story "Soft Like a Woman," which is a savage antisexism
commentary, because I support education and oppose sexism.
Yes, I do get mail calling me sexist; some readers take my
parodies for endorsements. I addressed a local Kiwanis Club
meeting; the contractor we are asking to build us a nice house
on our tree farm asked me, and I want him in a positive mood
as he tackles that house. There's a reason for everything, but

everything takes time!

Then mere's the mail. Some of it affects my life and writing
in devious ways. Amidst this novel, I was concerned because
of the blah period in Parry's life between Jolie's death and the
arrival of Lilah. I didn't want four chapters of that. Thirty-
four letters arrived in one day—they come in batches—taking
me three and a half hours to read and a good deal longer to
answer. One was from Pat Woods with thoughtful comment
about the first four novels in this series.' 'You have an amazing
affinity for your characters," she wrote, and I thought darkly,
/ wish that were true in this novel.' And then something clicked,
and I realized that Jolie, who really had not been fairly treated,
could in a manner be restored. Not only would this redeem
her, it would enliven the dull section of the novel. Thus was
introduced the Drop of Blood and all it portended. I'm really
glad that happened, because I did feel guilty about Jolie. Thank

you. Pat.

Two novels back I corresponded with a fourteen-year-old
suicidal girl I called Ligeia, after a character in die novel, and
that novel came into print in hardcover m OctOgre. I received
a number of letters expressing sympathy for Ligeia, several
asking to be put in touch with her; one young man approached
me directly about that at NECRONOMICON. But I could not
oblige, because of me necessary anonymity and me fact that,




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Piers Anthony

owing to circumstances beyond my control, I lost contact with
Ligeia. No, I don't dunk she's dead, merely incommunicado.
She would be sixteen by mis time. Then came one more letter
from a fourteen-year-old girl who was slashing her wrists. She
had read about Ligeia ... I do what I can, but it is quite
limited, because I am no expert and even my letters are liable
to be intercepted by the wrong parties in such situations. How
do you answer a reader who wants advice on what her parents
do not know about, when the parents read her mail? I have
had mis kind of letter in other connections, too.

There are also frustrations of a different nature: in this period
I had about four of my cards returned "Addressee unknown"
though I had them exactly as given. If these are jokes, they
are costing me valuable time; there are others who would have
been glad to receive mat wasted attention. I don't answer every
letter I receive, but even so mis year, like last year, comes to
over twelve hundred I wrote. Most letters are about Xanth;

next main topic is the Notes, overwhelmingly approved; it
seems that the readers prefer a personal author to an impersonal
one. Well, I don't claim to be a great man, but I am personal,
just as my readers are. Then the ones that ask for things:

contributions, mementoes for auctioning, requests for me to
speak—I have to turn the great majority down. Only when the
circumstances are special do I accept. For example, I have had
a number of letters from prisoners. Now, I am a liberal, but I
am not soft on crime; I dislike the death penalty, but I also
abhor the notion of murderers going free to repeat their crimes.
I suspect that there are far more guilty folk going free than
mere are innocent ones in prison. In addition, it is evident that
prisoners have a lot more time for correspondence man I do.
I can no more solve their problems than I can those of the
suicides. So I tend to answer briefly and noncomittally. But
one letter, in this period, made a reasonable case: me prison
encourages reading as being of a rehabilitative nature, and I
am a favored writer, but their budget is limited. Prisoners
cannot go out and buy their own. So—I sent a package of
thirteen of my recent books, paperback and hardcover. Please,
don't deluge me with requests for free books; this was a one-
shot deal, about which I have mixed emotions.

As Christmas approached, I received many cards. As a rule
I don't answer these, and don't send cards of my own, because
if I did I would lose another critical chunk of time, but I do
appreciate me sentiment. I even received a Chanuka card; I
understand that occasion is becoming much like Christmas, in
America. I had a letter and a painting from my youngest fan
yet: six-year-old Carlitos Castillo. I did unbend enough to wish
a number of correspondents "Harpy Holiday"; I mean, what
would life be without some grim humor? I received some gifts
that surprised me: from a company with which I do business,
and from publishers. Remember, it was only yesterday that I
was beneath me notice of publishers, and I am a bit uncom-
fortable with first-class treatment, as any writer would be. Do
leopards change their spots? But there is of course a price tag:

now a publisher wants me to go on an Author tour to promote
anovel. I hate to travel, but if it puts my novel on the hardcover
best-seller lists . . . sigh.

Another problem is interviews. After four consecutive in-
terviews from which I received no feedback—no copy, no
news, except some secondhand remark that somebody had
seen it somewhere—I decided that it was time to stop. If I
never see a copy, I have no notion of the errors that may
have been made. The main difference, as I see it, between
fiction writers and journalists is that the fiction writers make
sure of their facts. Then came news of a fifth: being published
in a magazine with which I regard myself to be on bad terms,
because of that same looseness with facts. I used to wonder
why successful folk tended to isolate themselves from the
public; now I am learning the answer. With interviews conies
me nuisance of pictures. I had 128 little pictures of me I
could send to readers who requested them; I ran out, and
can'* take the time to have more taken. But I have to make
time to pose for photos whose rights do not belong to me,
so cannot be used to replace my stock. So, after the session
that occurred during this novel, I'll probably cut the line on
that too. No, nothing wrong with die picture taker; it's just
the time, and the fact that my dandruff reserved this occasion
to come out in force. I am however conscious of the anomaly
of having an attractive young woman taking pictures of a




328

FOR LOVE OF EVIL

Piers Anthony

329

middle-aged man; sexist that I am supposed to be, I feel it
should be the other way around.

While we're on the subject of evil, there is the matter of
reviews. These seem to vary inversely with a writer's success,
and I am getting the brunt of it now. Some of it is the arrogance
of ignorance. One fan reviewer berated me for publishing a
27,000-word story as a novel. He was talking about Steppe,
on sale in paperback at this time. That novel is actually 61,000
words long. He also commented on the Incarnations series: #1
was wonderful, #2 was "simply bad," #3 was awkward be-
cause "Anthony has always had trouble writing decent female
characters." About die Notes he said: "Anthony's are getting
longer and longer, and more and more boring and offensive."
But the pro reviewers aren't much better. Publishers Weekly
remarked on Incarnations #3: ". . . The novel comes alive
only at its start (set in a charming, early 20th century America,
where magic has equal footing with science) and in its
afterword—Anthony's cranky, contentious and revealing au-
thor's note." The setting, of course, was Ireland; you will have
to make your own judgment about the Author's Note. On #4
it said: "... In fact, most of this weak entry in the series is
concerned with finding a proper mate for the hapless Mym.
As before, though, the liveliest part of the book is the author's
note, a 30 page open letter to his fans in which Anthony feels
free to be cantankerous, boastful, whimsical and self-reveal-
ing." Well, PW, here's another! These are actually relatively
mild; reviewers get savage about my Space Tyrant series, and
I believe I got my first "killer review" on Ghost. At least it
gives us a notion where Satan's mouthpieces are. I like Danielle
Steel's comment: "A bad review is like baking a cake with
all the best ingredients, and having someone sit on it." I have
this mental picture of grouchy people walking around with
squashed cake crumbling off their backsides. They might feel
better if they tried appreciating the cake for what it was, rather
than being asinine.

It goes on and on. We agreed to sell some small oak trees
to a nursery, as those trees will have a hard time here as our
pine trees crowd them out; they should be happier in individual
lots. Then a second nurseryman asked. Then the first said the

second was tearing up our property—and indeed, I found that
he had destroyed twice as many young pines as he had taken
oaks. Sigh; the simplest and most seemingly right things be-
come complicated. I learned of the trouble a small press had
with its special edition of the first novel in this series: it invested
in printing and cover, men me distributor had a change in
personnel and pulled the rug out. They sent me the beautiful
color-separation version of the cover, the original had somehow
been destroyed. Another small press, setting up for another of
my novels, got illness in the family, and an IRS audit. My
American literary agent came down with strep throat and was
too hoarse to speak; he does most of his business by phone.
My British agent sent a large check, and me bank that translated
it from Ł to $ deleted the information about the exchange rate
used; when I looked it up, I found that they had apparently
shorted me by $800. I can't even update my accounts until I
get that straight; just figuring it out cost me about Ł500 worth
of my time on a Ł1200 entry. I heard from a beginning writer
whose story was in a volume that was squelched by the pro-
spective publisher before publication; she was warned that she
would be blacklisted if she talked about the circumstances.
Satan was not only working me over, he was working over
anyone who associated with me! But perhaps I can do some-
thing about that last; I was blacklisted myself, in earlier days,
for challenging similar dealings, and I remain militant. I mean,
if the wrongdoers can win by blacklisting the innocent parties,
what kind of a genre do we have? I find it hard to believe that
I am the only person who objects, though that did seem to be
the case before. I do sometimes get the impression that God
is sleeping at the helm. Speaking of which: this was also the
period in which the scandal dubbed the Reagan Watergate
broke. It seems mat no level is immune.

And so another novel and another year draw to a close, each
with its highs and lows and ironies. Though I complain (re-
viewers call it bragging) about the volume of mail I receive,
because it costs me the time to write approximately one more
novel a year, I do appreciate the tremenduous affinity and
support my readers give me. Each letter is a little window into
another life, and I only regret mat so many of those lives are




330                fiers Anthony

desperate ones. As the second Ligeia says: "It's as if the whole
world is moving to the key of C and I'm somewhere in B
flat." I have news for you, honey: the whole world is in B
flat, but thinks that all the rest is in C. It is an illusion Satan
has fostered, and we lack the wit to dispel it. But do not give
up hope; things are changing all the time, and this too may
pass.

One correspondent expressed dismay because he could not
tell when my Notes were written and asked me to date them.
Very well; mis one is complete DisMember 27, 1986. I still
have perhaps a week of editing and printing to go, and it may
be two years before the novel sees publication, but this is now.
I wish all of you a harpy new year!