Imp to Nymph

Back when I discovered that it was possible to market novels from summaries instead of writing the entire manuscripts first, my income tripled. Because then I no longer wrote novels which didn't sell, I wrote only novels which had already sold. In that heyday of early success I tried a number of summaries, and some were never sold, so they went into my file, biding their time. I, as a writer, have of course never had a bad notion, only ignorant editors. This is true for all writers; ask any of them. But then what happens to those excellent notions that can't find homes in print? Well, sometimes they mutate to other forms. Usually I have made a story salable by lengthening it into a novel, as I did with

"Ghost," "A Piece of Cake" (published as Triple Detente), "Omnivore" and "Balook." (When it's in "quotes" it's a story; when it's in italics it's a book; when it's CAPITALIZED it's a series or magazine.) One early story, "Tappuah," waited a quarter century before becoming the lead-in to a collaborative novel with Philip José Farmer, The Caterpillar's Question. But in this case I went in the opposite direction.

Back in the late 50's, when I was in the US Army in Oklahoma, I diverted myself one day by looking up words in my big dictionary. I started with the word "Imp," then looked up the synonyms, and their synonyms. I made a kind of crazy chart, and in time it filled the pages.

I got hundreds of words, covering most of the fantasy spectrum, from that one little opening wedge. I realized that this could be a fun contest game: Let folk each pick a word, and whoever's word goes farthest wins. Or maybe try to document a chain of words leading from a set beginning to a set ending, using a dictionary and limited to it. It may have been in the course of that first exploration I encountered the terms "Incubus" and "Succubus,"

which have served me in good stead ever since. Those are demons who come to sleeping folk, and get very, uh, intimate with them.

Later I decided to work that notion into a novel, Imp to Nymph. I made a summary—but this was back in the humorless-editor stage of my career, and it found no publisher. Lester del Rey of DEL REY BOOKS considered it in 1975, but in the end he went for Xanth, and I can't fault that. Xanth was, as it turned out, an idea with more future than Imp. So the notion languished in my file.

Then in 1982 a German publisher asked me for an original story for an anthology. So I wrote "Imp to Nymph" as a 9,000-word story with a German setting, and it was published in the GOLDMANN FANTASY FOLIANT I in 1983. I got a sale in America, but the magazine folded before publication. So finally I gave it to the World Fantasy Convention, and it was published in the Program Book for the 1987 convention in Nashville, Tennessee, where I was the fantasy guest of honor. Thus this story has been published, but the chances are you haven't read it. It's a good example of the long genesis some of my pieces can have.

For those of you who are hopeful writers (which seems to be half my readers) the moral is plain: Never give up on a piece. Writers have longer lifespans than editors, and can sometimes outlast them and get into print despite them.

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I glanced down as I rode my carpet across the Rhine. This was one of those relatively unspoiled sections of the great river, decorated with fine old estates and elegant castles, some dating back to the twelfth century. There was no prettier region than this in all the world, to my mind—at least so it seemed from this high vantage. If I were to fly lower, I knew I would begin to perceive the problems man had brought to the grand river: the pollution of its water and shores, the destruction of age-old forests, and the crowding in of modern dwellings. Therefore I kept the carpet high. I was not an environmentalist by profession, after all; I was a police investigator.

But that was a truth I should not even think about now. I had to school my mind and emotion to reflect my cover-identity, so as not to give myself away by any inadvertent signal. This was my first important case, tracking down the fate of one Herr Schlucken who had vanished much in the manner of his namesake, the hiccough. Like several other people, he had been traced to a certain region, where the trail had ended, and his heirs wanted to verify—

No. I was not supposed to be aware of such things. I was now an idle, wealthy, spoiled child of a Cologne industrialist who was abroad more than he was home; all he required of me was that I be discreet. That was very limiting. One bad headline involving the family name, and my allowance would be drastically cut. I had already been restricted to Germany, after an obscure incident in Paris. This identity of mine was of course verifiable; my department did know its business. Of course if high order black magic were used, the ruse would crumble—but that was part of the point. No legitimate business would employ black magic, and so its use would only advertise illegitimacy.

White magic, naturally, was legal and widely used; this convenient flying carpet was an example. No traffic congestion for me! The carpet would find its way promptly to its destination with no concern on my part, though I could give it directions at any time. Few machines were that good. Black magic, in contrast, was illegal, but also widely used. The authorities did not worry about the small infractions, such as one-mark curses; many of them were of such inferior grade that Satan Himself would be disgusted with them. But some of the infernal celebrations could get ugly, especially those involving human sacrifice, and had to be watched. It was one thing to trick innocent young women into kissing billygoats in the belief that these animals were transformed friends; it was quite another to summon genuine demons to murder business competitors. Demons were not only unethical, they were dangerous, because they were often smarter than their summoners and would try to trick mortals into voiding the spell of control. A demon unbound could cause terrible mischief before sufficient white magic could be brought to bear to bind it again. There had been a case in Berlin that almost triggered a nuclear confrontation. A number of people were still rather nervous about Berlin.

But such crimes were obvious. It was the subtle ones that caused the headaches. When people simply disappeared without apparent motive or explanation or violence, we couldn't be certain whether magic was involved at all. So we had to be prepared for anything, and I wasn't sure I was. I felt inadequate—

I put the thought from my mind. The carpet was descending now and I didn't want any local spirits reading my mind and reporting my real mission to the object of my investigation.

No, that thought, too, had to be stifled. Probably there were no special enchantments here; this was really a routine assignment, for they did not assign inexperienced investigators to really significant cases. There could always be surprises, however. So I was merely a young man of high libido and low ambition, ready to pay handsomely for his pleasures. I was supposed to know nothing about the sinister aspect of magic; I was an innocent who had answered an intriguing ad in the underground press. The same ad marked on Schlucken's last newspaper.

The address was an imposing, rather massively ugly castle with none of the pretty spires I had half hoped for, set some distance back from the river, within a fenced wooded estate. A private place, of course. I stifled a thrill of nervousness, then decided to let the emotion run its course. An innocent young man would naturally be worried at this point, for anything could happen in a place like this. Perhaps they would cheat me, delivering nothing more than illusion for my money. A middle-aged woman, for example, could be made to seem like Marlene Dietrich in her youthful prime—for a few hours. It was rumored that more than one ambitious man had committed suicide when he discovered what he had actually dallied with.

I landed in the front yard. I noticed that there was no driveway; magic was the only way to enter here. Good; I had really hoped it would be magic, and not some mundane scheme or fraud. I've always liked magic, just as I've always liked money, perhaps because I grew up with so little of either. And, though I blush to confess it, the part I was playing did have some basis in fact. The libido part, I mean. It would be fun to meet a genuine nymph.

I got off the carpet, rolled it up, and carried it under my arm. There were two life-sized decorative stone griffins at the front steps; I hoped they did not come alive until after I was safely inside.

A well-dressed, rather portly middle-aged man met me at the door. "Ah, you are punctual, Herr—"

"Anton," I said quickly, as if embarrassed. "Just Anton. No title, please."

The man smiled with comprehension. Evidently he was used to dealing with secretive clients. Naturally a man would not care to let his associates know he had a captive nymph at his disposal, though there was nothing actually illegal about that. Polite society just didn't quite understand about nymphs. "Of course. And I am Karl. Just Karl. I have no identity at all, beyond this estate. I am here only to implement the policy of my employer.

You have the agreed fee?"

We were getting down to business rapidly. "Twenty-five thousand marks, in cash, used bills," I agreed. "This had better be worth it!"

"There is no guarantee," the man said.

"No guarantee!" I exclaimed angrily, playing my part with enthusiasm. "For this kind of money, I expect an absolute guarantee. And I want to see her first. I don't want to get stuck with an ugly—"

Karl shook his head. "There are no old or fat or ugly nymphs. They never spoil. That is not my concern. Come, sit down, Anton." He ushered me into a somber antechamber that reminded me of a mortician's waiting room, though it was in fact richly upholstered with tapestries on the walls and carpet on the floor. "There are things I must clarify for you."

"You said twenty-five thousand on the phone," I snapped, true to my impetuous character.

"I won't pay more!"

Karl raised his hand in a gesture of unconcern. "My employer always honors his word. The fee is not at issue. But what you ask for can not be handed to you on a platter."

"All I want is a nymph," I said. "Just as your ad offered. A creature who never eats, never sleeps, never eliminates, has no free will—a luscious female-figure who will do exactly what you say—always, with no argument and no kissing-and-telling, or moods or times-of-the-month or headaches, or whatever."

"Or whatever," he agreed wryly. "A nymph is all you describe, the ideal sex object. You do not desire any personality at all?"

"Of course not," I said, aware of the contempt in which he probably held me. "All she needs is to understand orders, and perform well. And to keep out of the way when I'm busy with something else. I don't want her for conversation, you know."

"I had gathered as much. You do not suppose it might get dull after a while? My employer wants to be sure you understand what you are getting. A nymph, generally speaking, is hardly more than a body. She may have a mind, but it is completely unschooled, childlike."

"A body that never grows old," I said. "Completely sexy, completely obliging. No real woman is like that. Not once she gets her hooks into a man."

"I would not know," he said, resigned. I wondered momentarily about that; did he never indulge in the wares himself? Maybe he had been placed under a spell of abstinence, to keep him honest.

"Now that that's settled, bring her in," I said. "I've got the money right here."

"That is part of what I need to explain," Karl said. "I can not deliver the nymph to you. You have to fetch her yourself.

"Fetch her myself!" I exclaimed. "Why should I pay you the money, then?"

"What my employer offers is merely the key to the door," he said. "The nymph will obey only the man who fetches her out. If I fetched her, she would be mine, not yours. That is the way it works. These soulless creatures are incapable of multiple loyalties; we call it bonding."

"Bonding," I repeated. "You mean like a hatchling duckling seeing its mother the first time?"

"Yes. Once that bond is made, only death will break it."

"Hey! You told me they're immortal!"

"They are. You are not."

"Oh," I said, momentarily disgruntled.

"I am the keeper of the portal, not the deliverer of the goods," Karl continued. "But I am obliged to advise you of certain cautions before I accept your money. The first is that this portal is magic, and that it opens on wild enchantment."

"Wild?" I asked, perplexed.

"Undifferentiated magic," he explained. "You are accustomed to selective effects, the so-called white magic, that is essentially beneficial. As you must know, there are other types of magic, some inimical. It is best to avoid those other types, unless you happen to be conversant in such arts. This is a wild zone, where all types mix, rather like a wilderness.

You must be very careful where you step and what you invoke."

This didn't sound like a person who planned to cheat me with illusion! Was this after all a false lead? I wasn't really looking for a nymph, but for a missing man. "I don't want to go into any wilderness!" I protested. "I just want my nymph!"

He nodded patiently, evidently accustomed to dealing with louts like me. These butler-types have remarkable stability. "You will be given a charm to protect you from untoward effects," he said.

"So I won't be in any danger?" I asked nervously. Actually I rather liked the spice of danger, but could not say that now.

"Not if you are careful. I will explain the situation in as much detail as you wish; that is my duty. But once you pass through the portal, you are on your own. My employer does not protect any person from his own folly."

This sounded less and less like a swindle or murder trap. Why should Karl bother with such a warning, if he didn't intend to deliver? "Let's have the protective charm," I said, staying in character. "I didn't come here to sit around and talk."

"First the situation," he said firmly. "This castle consists of many sealed chambers. In each is a supernatural creature, confined there by the physical walls and enchantments of this locale. Thus we have a complete array of specimens—"

"A zoo," I said, catching on. "Or a pet store. With nymphs!"

"I would not express it so crudely," he said. "But that may be a useful analogy. There are indeed nymphs of many kinds; nereids of the sea, oreads of the mountains, dryads of the trees—"

"I want an apartment-nymph," I said. "I don't care about the sea or mountains or trees."

Which was not strictly true. I cared strongly about all three, which might be one reason I had taken this job. I wanted to protect the world from the further depredations of man—and from the illicit use of harmful magic. Black magic could be a worse addiction, and do more harm than any potent drug. But it wasn't wise to reflect on that, here. I was supposed to be a superficial idler.

"A generalized nymph," he agreed. "One who can enter any habitat without being committed to it. That is a higher-class creature than some. Therefore you should search for the chamber labeled NYMPH."

"Search for?" I asked.

"The rooms are jumbled," he explained. "Each is labeled—but you must travel a route of affinities to reach your goal."

"Look," I said, affecting impatience. "I didn't come here for any long discourse on affinities!

Are you going to let me go in after my nymph or aren't you?"

"Anton, I must warn you against going in unprepared," he said. "There are certain devices of convenience, and formidable pitfalls for the unwary. Some careless clients do not emerge."

So this was the place! But I was playing the part of an impetuous, thrill-seeking youth; too much caution would make him suspicious, and as yet I did not have enough evidence to arrest him. "Just give me the charm and let me into the zoo."

He seemed almost to sigh. "I really must advise against this impetuosity. There are special aspects that—"

I shoved the money at him. "Deliver."

He shrugged and accepted the wad of bills. Now I had half a case against him; he had accepted payment. If he failed to deliver, or if what he delivered were illicit, he was mine.

But that was incidental; I still needed to locate Schlucken to wrap it up completely.

Karl walked to a wall-cabinet and brought out a cloth bag with a loop-strap. "There are twenty-five magic talismen here," he said. "Each one passes you to the chamber of your choice. You must save the last one to return here, or you will be trapped in the, uh, zoo yourself. My employer will not help you if—"

"Yes, yes!" I said impatiently, pretending I didn't understand the significance of his warning. If I lost the last token, I would be out of luck. "Where do I start?"

"And the charm," he said, taking down a sword.

I contemplated the sword, taken aback. It was a huge, gleaming double-edged blade with a kind of enclosed hilt to protect the hand. "I don't know how to use a thing like that!" I protested quite sincerely. I had had training in assorted firearms and barehand techniques of combat, but not in ancient weapons. "I'd be likely to cut off my own foot!"

"It is enchanted," he said. "Anyone who holds it becomes expert. You must carry it; this is a requirement of the transaction."

"Oh, all right," I said. We put the sword in a sort of harness and fastened the harness about my body. The sheathed sword now lay against my left leg, the hilt projecting slightly forward. I felt like a costumed fool.

He led me to a blank panel. "Take a talisman and touch the surface," he said. "Then step through promptly, before the portal closes. The entry-point is random; the rest you control.

Remember, this is the only way you can pass between chambers; do not mislay the talismen."

Small chance of that! I fumbled in the bag and fished out a small disk. It reminded me of a subway token, but it was more than that. It was silver, with arcane images engraved all over it—four-leaf clovers, evil eyes and other obscure symbols of power. I kept a straight face, though my pulse gave a start. I've studied some magic, of course; it's a requirement for this type of employment. I knew a number of fairly simple but potent spells, though I would never be a real sorcerer; the police academy makes sure we have the basics down pat.

Thus I was instantly aware that this was no faked-up amulet; this was genuine! I could feel the subtle power associated with it. The police lab would love to have this for analysis; it had surely not been crafted in any conventional shop! My knees felt weak; I was onto something here, and might need all my untried expertise to get safely free.

But first I had to spring the trap, or I would have no case. If this was as big as I now suspected, I would get points toward an early promotion for it, so I was not about to let it slip away. I touched the panel in the center, with the token.

The word IMP flashed before me, printed on the panel.

"Be ready to draw your sword at any time," Karl told me. "Now step through."

Step through a solid panel? I poked my finger at it, discovering that the talismen had vanished. My finger sank into the opaque surface. It had become unsolid despite its appearance. I watched my arm disappear into it as if amputated, but there was no sensation. Dematerialization—a standard magic device, but still impressive in this context.

Something else nagged me as I shoved through the panel. If there really was strong magic here, as there seemed to be, then there could indeed be supernatural danger. I paused halfway inside the panel. "What, specifically, do I need this sword for?"

"For the monster," Karl said. "It pursues all who invade this region, and it can pass through walls without use of the talismen; our spells do not confine it. But the monster takes time to orient and close on you; move quickly and you will complete your mission before it arrives."

"The monster!" I exclaimed. Rash youth that I pretended to be, I still should have taken time to learn more about this. A magic monster could be real trouble! But the panel was beginning to thicken around me, and I had to move on through before I got stuck in it. In a moment I stood in an irregular chamber with seven walls slanting this way and that, each bearing a prominently printed word. The ceiling resembled that of a cave, with small stalactites projecting down. The floor was a bed of coal, with patches of fire consuming it.

On one side was a sort of jungle gym.

There beside the gym stood the imp. This was a childlike figure with cute little snub horns and a bobbed tail and hooves on his feet.

"Hey, a tourist!" the imp said. "I'll take a piece of that!" A small pitchfork appeared in his hands. He stepped toward me, his little eyes glittering malevolently.

"I'm just passing through," I said. I'd never met a genuine imp before, and didn't care for this one. "Stay out of my way and we'll get along just fine."

"Sure, sucker," he said, and charged.

I'm a bachelor, but I've had some experience with children. That's one reason I intend to have none of my own. I stepped aside as he came at me, and the pitchfork jammed into the wall and stuck there. "You want a spanking?" I asked.

The imp was mortified by his failure. He backed off, his horns turning red. I kept a covert eye on him while I read the signs on the walls. They were, clockwise from where I stood: SPRITE—ELF—HOBGOBLIN—FLIBBERTIGIBBET—DEMON—DEVIL—SPIRIT.

I realized that these were creatures loosely associated with the imp, perhaps clarifications of his nature. He was small, like an elf, and horned like a devil, and supernatural like a spirit. But neither he nor any of those other creatures were what I wanted.

Evidently I would have to select one of these related beings, traveling the route of affinities, and hope it was closer to my need. To locate Schlucken, I had first to locate NYMPH. I would keep trying; I had plenty of tokens.

I fished in the bag and brought out a second talisman. Which wall should I touch?

"Take your time, tourist!" the imp said. "Till the monster comes!"

"What do you know about the monster?" I demanded.

He grinned nastily. "Nothing, nothing at all, chump!"

Of course the little devil wouldn't help. But he had reminded me about the monster; I could not afford to dally too long. So which creature should I go for?

I certainly didn't want to tangle with a demon or devil, and I didn't trust the hobgoblin, and I didn't know what a flibbertigibbet was, so I took the one most likely to be female: the sprite.

I touched my token to that wall and stepped through. Just as well, for the heat of the coals was making my feet uncomfortable.

The new chamber was twice the size and irregularity of the prior one. Walls angled in and out like the surface of an accordion, each bearing its printed word. The scenery was bright and green, with several trees rising; the ceiling was quite high, to accommodate them.

There was no fire, and the air was pleasantly cool. This might be a cell in a zoo, but it resembled an enclosure in an open forest.

The sprite drifted close. It was a ghostly, neuter shape, cloaked in white, whose face was obscure. "Yooou coome for meee?" it inquired with a voice like distant wind.

"Uh, sorry, no," I said quickly. "I'm really looking for a nymph." And for vanished Schlucken, so I could nail a seller of black magic, or maybe a murderer. Karl had not given me enough to go on for a clear-cut case. So far, this castle was exactly what he had claimed it was, and that wasn't enough for my purpose.

"Theeere," the sprite said, pointing with a discarnate arm to one of the wall-panels.

"Thaaank—uh, thank you," I replied. This creature was eerie, but helpful. Better than the imp. I walked to the panel, passing APPARITION, SPECTRE, GHOST and SHADE on the way. The one I arrived at was FAIRY.

Well, they were female, weren't they? That was on the way to NYMPH. The sprite's advice seemed good. I dug out another token and touched it to the panel. In a moment I was through—and found myself in fairyland.

It was beautiful. The bushes and trees were luminescent, and sparkles radiated from the clear pools. Pretty little winged fairies flitted about. Each was only a few centimeters long, no larger than birds, but human in form.

I looked for the labeled walls, but they weren't evident. I seemed to have stepped directly into the realm of the fairies. Alarmed, I cast about, ready to step back through the wall I had come by—but it was gone. I stood in an open glade, and whichever way I turned there was only similar scenery.

A fairy flitted up to me. She was a perfect little female, completely nude, like one of the modern adult dolls children like to dress and undress. Her wings moved so rapidly they buzzed and were hazy, like those of an insect. Indeed, she might have been a dragonfly, but for her face and shape, or a hummingbird. "You look lost," she piped.

"I am," I said. "I'm looking for walls with terms on them." Her smile was a miniature flash of white in her face.

"They are here. You have to see through the illusion."

"Oh. You mean this only seems like fairyland?"

She frowned, and a tiny tear fell from her eye. "Alas, we are far from home. Would it were not so! We pretend and prettify our cell, but—"

This made me pause for reflection. My mission was to locate, rescue, or verify the fate of Schlucken, and to arrest the perpetrators of the crime. I had not been at all concerned with the situation of whatever other people or creatures I might encounter. Now I wondered; if Schlucken were captive here, a part of this fantastic zoo—what of the others? Did the fairies have families back home?

It was easy to find out. "Who are you?" I asked the fairy. "How did you come here?"

Another tear fell. "We may not speak of such matters to the tourists," she said. "Please go away."

I realized that she was afraid of being punished if she talked. I was not in a position to do anything for her, and would only get her in trouble—and perhaps myself as well—if I tried.

"Show me the route to NYMPH and I'll go immediately," I said with a certain regret.

"I'm not sure of the roster," she said. "It changes. But here are the walls." She waved her arms, and the illusion faded, revealing the stark outlines of the chamber. On the walls were the words SPIRIT—SPRITE—PIGWIDGEON—DEMON—ELF—FAY—NIX—BROWNIE—all the cousins of the fairies, one of which I had already checked out. I'd managed to find a female, but not of the right size or species. I still didn't want a demon, and didn't know what a pigwidgeon was. How about a fay?

I shrugged. This was more of a puzzle than I had anticipated, but I had used only three of my twenty-five tokens. I could take a chance on the fay. It seemed as good a course as any.

This was turning out to be an interesting experience.

I drew out another token and touched the wall. The disk vanished and I stepped through—

into a tiny stone cell, like a dungeon cubicle. It was really two-sided, the walls bowing out to form a narrow crevice between them.

On a stool sat hunched a small furry figure with pointed ears. This was the fay, of course, in solitary confinement. One wall had the word FAIRY—I must have just come through it—and the other had ELF. I hesitated, looking at the fay, who might stand a meter high if he got off his stool. Should I speak to him? I disliked seeing any creature, natural or supernatural, in such dire straits. But what could I do for him, anyway? I was only a tourist. I took out the next token and phased through the ELF wall.

This turned out to be another of the larger chambers, resembling a cavern hewn from the side of a rocky mountain. Several little men labored over stone lasts, evidently making shoes. Smoke smudged up from a fire smoldering in a pit. The irregular walls said IMP—

SPRITE—FAIRY—FAY, which were the ones I'd already pushed through, and PIXY—

PUCK—SPIRIT, which I had not. I really was not making a lot of progress, so this time I would seek advice.

I approached the nearest elf. "Pardon me," I said politely. "I'm a tourist—"

The little man looked up from his shoe. He was about the same size as the fay, and his ears were pointed, but a wary intelligence showed in his face. "Obviously," he said.

"I'm looking for a nymph, and—" I broke off, for a sudden pain had occurred deep in my gut.

"Better hurry," the elf told me.

I leaned against the wall, trying to alleviate the discomfort. It wasn't intense, but I disliked any undefined illness, especially when it might interfere with my mission. "Why?"

"It'll cost you," he said, and held out his callused little hand.

"Cost me?" I asked blankly.

"One talisman," he said, "for three questions. That's standard."

The little entrepreneur! He was charging me for information! But maybe this was fair enough. I still had plenty of tokens, and if his advice could save me several, it would be worth it. "Agreed," I said, fishing out a disk. "Clear answers to three questions. No riddles or evasions or useless stuff."

"Right," he agreed, hand still out.

I hesitated, but gave him the token. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "Now I can go home! I've got a pass!"

"Not before you honor our deal," I reminded him.

"I'm an elf," he said stiffly. "Goblins cheat; elves always deliver. I told you it's a standard agreement. Ask."

"What is the fastest route to NYMPH?"

"That way," he said, touching the wall that said FAIRY.

"But I just came from there!" I protested. Actually I had just been through FAY, but it had been FAIRY before that. The elf merely nodded, waiting for the next question. He evidently considered me something of an idiot. And I felt like one, for I found I didn't know what else to ask. His first answer hadn't been very helpful, and I didn't want to waste more time on it.

"Look, tourist, I want to get out of here," the elf said. "I can't wait while you hem and haw and poke at your belly."

I stopped checking my uncomfortable abdomen, somewhat guiltily. "Suppose I just tell you what to ask?"

"Do that," I said, wishing that the pain in my gut would go away. It seemed to be getting worse.

"Ask about the risk involved in crossing your trail."

Crossing my trail? I shrugged. "Very well, give me a full account."

"You must use one talisman to enter each exhibit," he said. "Or to go home. But there are other restrictions. If you return to a chamber you've visited before, that's known as crossing your trail. No harm in that, except it means you've wasted a talisman, and they cost you a thousand marks apiece, which isn't exactly goblin dust. But if you enter a given chamber a third time, your trail ends there, and you must take whatever is in it no matter how many talismen you have left, and if you happen to be out of talismen, whatever is in that chamber takes you. So it's all right to cross your trail when you've gone wrong as you have this time—but don't make the same mistake again."

I realized that Karl would have told me this, if I had waited for him to finish. The penalty of my impatience was becoming evident. Yet I had had to play my part properly, even if it meant trouble. If I ever hoped to locate the man who had sought a nymph, I had to make sure not to arouse suspicion.

"Thank you for a good answer," I said, suffering another wash of discomfort in my abdomen that made me wince.

The elf eyed me appraisingly. "And you had better ask about the monster," he said.

"Yes—" I agreed painfully.

"It is zeroing in on you now," he said. "It doesn't like intruders, and it sniffs them out relentlessly. If they dawdle too long, it catches up. You can tell when it is getting near, because you feel a pain. You can fend it off with that sword, but you're better off staying well away from it."

"Thank you," I said, experiencing yet another surge of discomfort. At least now I knew what caused it!

"And now I'm going home!" the elf said. "Farewell, fellow inmates. I hope you find your own tickets soon!" He went over and touched the token to the floor, and sank through it and out of sight.

So that was the way to leave the zoo! I hadn't thought to inquire. It was a good thing I had seen this. Evidently whoever touched a token to the floor passed through it and directly into his own world.

My gut-pain eased; the monster must have taken a wrong turn, perhaps sniffing out the elf's progress instead of mine. It was not unreasonable to assume that the creature was sensitive to the use of the magic tokens; that was what distinguished a tourist from an inmate.

I looked at the walls. The elf had told me to return to FAIRY—but that meant crossing my trail. I didn't want to do that, yet. It would only limit my options. So I considered the three new walls; maybe SPIRIT would get me there. I brought out another token and touched the panel.

"You'll be soorryy!" an elfin voice singsonged as I phased through. Well, I might indeed be sorry—but now I was committed.

I came into a somewhat smoky region where fires and shadows seemed to war with each other. Several figures moved about, but I couldn't quite determine whether they were solid or otherwise. Their features were vague, seeming more clear in peripheral vision than directly. Maybe my personal discomfort distorted my concentration. I didn't like this place, so I marched up to the first convenient wall, marked APPARITION, and expended a token on it.

The new chamber was the largest and gloomiest yet. I had to pause to let my eyes adjust to the poor light, and my gut felt worse. That monster was shifting closer—and I still wasn't making progress. I was already sorry I hadn't taken the elf's advice, and backtracked to FAIRY. There had surely been better alternatives from that chamber than from this! I walked around the exhibit, having to peer closely at the labels because of the poor light.

SPECTRE—PHANTOM—DOPPELGANGER—SHADE—GHOST. They were all spooky things!

But my gut was hurting worse. I was breathing in small pants, trying to ease it, though I now knew that the source was not in my body. I had to get where I was going, quickly!

I reached for a token—and something horrible loomed before me, mostly eyes and teeth. It was an apparition, of course, but it scared me. I wasn't sure my sword would have any effect on something that wasn't exactly solid. So I punched my token at GHOST and crashed through.

The next chamber wasn't much better. It was like the interior of a haunted house, with a rickety wooden floor, peeling-papered walls, and a broken window directly across from me.

A ghost floated up, all eyeless moan—and I jammed my next token into the nearest wall, labeled SPECTRE.

Now I was in a dank nocturnal forest, with rain drizzling down on me. It reminded me of the time I camped as a teenager in the mountains of the Black Forest near Switzerland, and got lost in the rain. I liked nature, but that had been too much! And so was this. A grim winged thing swooped at me, and I dived for the nearest tree, token extended. The tree was labeled SHADE, and I disappeared into it and emerged into a barren plain where a huge animalistic shape howled and turned toward me. Almost blindly I lunged at the sign saying PHANTOM

and phased through, not caring where I went so long as it was elsewhere.

I was in another dismal chamber, and something translucent rose up before me. I had no wish to dally with a phantom, so I cast about for the next, even though I knew I was wasting precious tokens by my hurry and panic. My inexperience was showing, and I was just getting myself deeper into trouble.

This easy quest had become difficult.

The walls said GHOST—ILLUSION—VISION—SPECTRE—APPARITION—SPIRIT. Hadn't I already been to most of these horrors?

The translucent thing moved to enfold me in its awful-ness. I threw myself at VISION. I landed in an ordinary living room that seemed somehow familiar. An older but elegant woman sat in a rocking-chair before a television set, half-smiling.

Well, this was different. This place was so cozy it reminded me of home.

Home? It was home—as I had known it a decade ago! The layout, the curtains—

Then the woman's identity penetrated. "Mother!" I exclaimed, amazed. "What are you doing here?"

She looked up at me, her gaze bland. And I remembered that my dear mother had died two years ago. This was a—vision.

I wrenched my attention back to business. Most of the labels were repeats; I realized that I was being driven inevitably to cross my trail, which would put me in jeopardy of finishing in the wrong chamber or using up my diminishing store of tokens pointlessly. I took the first new one I saw, CHIMERA, not willing to remain any longer in the presence of a person I knew was dead. It had been a jolt to see my mother! I still loved her; that was the problem.

The years of my childhood and the happy unity of my family were gone forever, and it was best not to dwell on them now.

I passed through the wall, and suddenly I was in an ancient Roman arena, with a huge audience seated above the pit, and from an open cage was striding the most horrendous monster I could have imagined. It was like a lion in front, and like a serpent behind, and had an otherwise caprine body. Smoke issued from its nostrils as it breathed, and I knew that where there was smoke, there was fire.

Simultaneously my gut-pain intensified. The pain suffused my body as if something were being stretched to the bursting point; my arms felt weak and my hands were sweating, yet I felt cold and I was shivering, with goose-pimples appearing on my skin. I staggered, feeling somewhat faint. Was it terror, or—

Oh, no! This was the monster! Instead of avoiding it, I had unwittingly phased right into its arena! My abruptly worse pain was the proof of that, for I am not normally a coward.

Foolish, perhaps; stupid, at times; but cowardly, seldom. When I am afraid I feel it more in the chest than in the bowel. Confusion and pain had led me into folly.

I heard the cheering of the spectators. They were ready for the slaughter. I had suddenly come to the end of the line. It seemed everyone had known about this appointment except me.

No, the crowd was probably illusion, and this was really a much smaller chamber than it appeared. Still, the threat from the chimera was real enough.

But my mission had not been accomplished! I might be a fool, but I didn't want to die here and I didn't want to fail in my assignment. My father was a good man, and he would be most upset. He hadn't really liked my decision to go into this line of work. So both my survival instinct and my pride stiffened my resolve. If I had to go, I'd go fighting.

The monster moved toward me, and I almost doubled over with the pain. I certainly wasn't cut out to be any barbarian hero! But I did have a weapon.

I gritted my teeth, forced my body erect, and reached across my torso and put my right hand on the hilt of my sword. Abruptly the pain abated. My fingers closed firmly on the handle and the blade slid from its sheath mostly of its own volition, feather-light yet solid.

The sword assumed a ready position, and it gleamed as if with eagerness. What an instrument!

The chimera paused. A column of fire shot from its mouth—but the sword moved to intercept it, and the flame ricocheted off the surface harmlessly, though I felt the flash of heat. In the back of my mind had been the hint of a notion that I might have been given a flawed weapon, one that would betray me in the crisis, but this was a splendid sword! And yet that bothered me, professionally. If Karl was sending people in to their deaths, why should he provide this valuable weapon? This suggested that I had misjudged the man; maybe he was dealing honestly with his clients.

But now the monster roared and leaped at me, banishing idle speculations. My sword whipped up, slicing at the open jaws. The chimera drew back its head in midair, so the blade only clipped the tip of its nose. That tip flew off, and the monster dropped to the ground, blood flowing. My sword swung back, going for the neck, thirsting for more blood, but the monster flinched aside.

In the magic violence of my swing, I forgot the bag I clutched in my left hand. Several tokens spilled out and bounced and rolled across the ground.

I couldn't afford to lose those! Automatically, foolishly, I squatted to recover them, forgetting the monster. Oh, what folly! I have done stupid things before, but this set a new standard of idiocy.

The chimera batted at my right hand. One claw struck the guard around the hilt, harmlessly; but another struck my wrist. The shock was terrible. I wrenched my arm away, letting go of the sword. I had been disarmed!

I scooped up a couple of tokens and launched myself at the nearest sign set in the wall of the arena. It said PHANTOM—a repeat. I didn't care; I had my life to save!

I landed in the dismal chamber with the translucent thing looming before me. My gut-pain returned; I had lost that aspect of protection from the monster when I lost the magic sword.

I saw a panel ahead; GHOST; I thrust the second token I had recovered at it and plunged through. I had to get away from the chimera!

Now I was back in the haunted house. I had crossed my trail again! I forced myself to pause, despite my concern about the monster so close behind. I had to get organized before I got wiped out!

I checked my tokens. I had six left, I had lost two or three in the arena, but I still had some leeway. I was lucky; I could have done far worse, considering my carelessness.

My gut knotted. I heard the roar of the monster. Feverishly I scanned the walls: APPARITION—SPECTRE—SPRITE—say, that was one of the earliest ones!

The chimera came through the wall, breathing fire. I made a flying leap for SPRITE, token extended.

I made it. Now I knew where I was going. I ignored the floating sprite and went directly for FAIRY.

I was back in fairyland, or the illusion of it. I had four tokens left. Now I would go to FAY

and—

Wait! FAY, I remembered, led only to two others, FAIRY and ELF. No alternate route there, for I had visited FAIRY twice already, counting now. The elf had not told me to retrace my former path, he had told me FAIRY was the fastest route.

The little hummingbird fairy flew up. "Oh, you are hurt!" she piped, hovering near my right arm, where blood spread from my clawed wrist.

"So is the monster," I said, remembering how the sword had sliced off the tip of its snout.

My gut knotted again. Wounded or not, that chimera was hot on my trail! I didn't have time for thought! One of the alternate routes had to be the one.

A blood-smeared snout came through the wall. The fairy screamed and buzzed away. I went for the first untried panel I spied: NIX.

I landed in a pool. I sank into the water, held my breath, and splashed for the surface.

Several naked young men were here, with gills in their necks. These were the nix. They did not look friendly. I stroked for the rim of the pool, hampered somewhat by the bag in my left hand and the stinging in my right wrist, ready to clamber out before the nix decided to use me for waterpolo.

My gut knotted. I doubled over involuntarily, inhaling some water before getting my mouth clamped shut. Through bleary eyes I saw the chimera standing at the rim, waiting for me to come to it. The monster was literally burning with anticipation. It seemed that the heat of its own breath had cauterized the amputated portion of the snout, so the bleeding had slowed.

Torn between my gut, my lungs and my fear, I somehow managed to wrench another token from the bag and splash water in the monster's face. Many cats don't like water, and this cat-head was no exception. The chimera drew back in a cloud of smoke, and I banged my token into the section of the pool wall marked NAIAD and twisted through.

I sprawled on a small beach on the other side, gasping. There was a feminine scream as I glanced Wearily up to see a young woman swimming swiftly away from me. She moved so rapidly that I knew she was no normal girl; maybe she had a fishtail or webbed extremities or gills. This was of course the naiad, or water spirit.

I sat up as I got the water clear of my throat. This chamber had a circular fountain in the center, behind which the naiad now hid. It was a good place, for a water creature. I felt in the bag—and found only two tokens remaining. One I would need to escape the zoo; that meant I could visit only one more chamber.

My gut tightened again. The monster was coming through! It seemed to take the chimera a moment to locate me again, each time I phased to another chamber, but that grace period was hardly enough. I gazed wildly about and saw the word NYMPH on the wall across the chamber, behind the fountain. I rolled into the water and swam, bag clutched in left hand, token in right hand. The water of the fountain sprinkled on my head and shoulders like rain.

Behind me I heard the familiar roar, I clamped my teeth, held my breath and fought my gut, struggling to keep moving. Fortunately the pool was small, and in a moment I touched the wall.

I fell into a parklike region, with green turf for a floor and sunshine beaming down from a skylight. The most lovely young woman I had ever seen stood before me, clothed only by her waist-long golden hair. Here at last was my nymph!

"Have you seen a man named—?" I began, remembering my real mission. Of course, Schlucken might never have made it to this chamber; I almost hadn't!

Another roar interrupted me. I had no time to look for the missing man; I had to save myself. But the nymph could be a valuable witness if I took her along.

I scrambled to my feet, staggered forward, and grasped her by a slender bare arm. What a figure she had! "Come with me!" I gasped, and jammed the last token into the ground as the monster leaped through the wall.

We landed in the antechamber, the nymph in my arms. She was a remarkable armful! I tried to disengage, getting my bearings.

Karl was awaiting me, impeccably dressed. My pain was gone, except for the scratch on my wrist, and I was abruptly conscious of my bedraggled state. I was soaking wet, and was embracing a nude nymph. I really wasn't sure how we had gotten so close together; maybe she had jumped close as we sank through the floor of her chamber. I tried again to pry her away from me, somewhat awkwardly, but she was like glue.

"Stand clear!" I muttered—and instantly she obeyed, standing contritely beside me.

I looked at Karl. "I lost the sword," I said, embarrassed. "But I found the nymph."

"So I see," Karl said gravely. "The sword fell back into this room when it was separated from you; it is spelled to do that, lest the monster get hold of it. It is the sword it really wants, for then its power would be magnified beyond all reason." He indicated the cabinet, where the sword had been returned.

"You mean—if I hadn't carried the sword—the chimera never would have chased me?" I demanded.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "But you would have had no protection, had you encountered the monster randomly. It seeks the sword in order to abolish the one thing that can destroy it."

I decided to drop that matter; I had indeed blundered into the monster on my own.

"I was concerned that you would not return," Karl continued. "This quest does have its hazards, as I tried to explain to you. But it also has its rewards. I trust you are satisfied?"

I didn't want to tell him my real mission, which was as yet incomplete. But I realized that this castle certainly could account for Schlucken's disappearance, as it had almost accounted for mine, and there was sufficient evidence against Karl for an arrest. Too bad, for he had played fair by his rules. It had been my own folly that nearly wiped me out. But I had a job to do.

"I regret this," I said sincerely. "I must advise you that I am an officer of the law, and you—"

Karl smiled tiredly. "I am aware of your identity, Anton. How I wish you could arrest me and take me away from here. But that is impossible."

"I'm afraid I must insist," I said. "I shall testify to extenuating circumstances, and perhaps you will get off lightly, especially if you free any people who are prisoners in this castle—"

"My employer will not permit—"

"I must take you in." I stepped toward him, ready for some evasive maneuver on his part, ready to catch him in a standard police come-along spell. With him in custody, and the nymph as a witness, and the evidence that our police experts would find in the castle itself, we should have a tight case.

He did not move. "You see, I also am bound here," Karl said. "I am no more free than the other exhibits. I am bound forever to serve my office—or be tormented below." He glanced significantly downward, and I knew what region he meant. It was a tacit admission that the very blackest magic was involved.

I refused to be bluffed. "Come with me," I said, and grasped his arm.

He shriveled in my grasp as if trying to resist my magic. His face seemed to fall in, and his extremities collapsed. But I did not let go; my grip is spelled to be tight despite the most extreme changes of shape by the arrestee.

"Oh!" the nymph cried, the first word I had heard her utter. At least she was intelligent enough to speak; she would be a useful witness.

I looked at Karl—and saw in my hand the twisted mass of a large mandrake root. This was Karl's true identity. He was correct. I could not arrest him. He wasn't even a man. He had been animated by black magic and had no other existence than that permitted him by his infernal employer. All I would have to prefer charges against would be a vegetable. Karl really was bound here, another zoo exhibit.

I set the root down gently. "You are already more of a prisoner than I knew," I said. "But our experts will take apart this castle, if necessary, to gather evidence against your employer."

But I spoke too soon. The walls of the room were becoming hazy, and soon the castle itself became smoke and drifted away, leaving me standing in a deserted glade. I should have known that the infernal one would not permit any tangible evidence to fall into the hands of the police. I walked disconsolately toward my rolled carpet, the only artifact that remained.

The nymph came with me, jiggling as she walked, her hair washing back to reveal her full body. Now I remembered: She had become bonded to me when I had brought her from the chamber. She was my slave for life. I had no case and no evidence, but I did have her. My fee had paid for her.

What was I going to do with a nymph?

The nymph smiled and took my arm possessively. She had a notion...