Phaze Doubt

“I be floating on golden clouds,” he said. “And gazing at a hea’en I long to reach, but can not. I love thee, demoness, but can feel only the part o’ it. I beg thee, tease me not further, lest I find ne’er in the rest o’ my life the like!”

“Then I be proof ‘gainst heating my man!” she exclaimed, delighted. “An this not heat thee, naught will!” She flexed her legs a bit, and took another breath, and squeezed him miraculously tight yet gentle, sending him for a ride on another golden cloud.

“Aye,” he agreed sadly. “Naught will. But had I been the man I look, methinks not e’en the spell would have stopped me from melting thee to a puddle.”

“For sure. Adept,” she agreed, pleased. She let him go, and he rolled over onto his own side of the snow with mixed emotions. “But the demon I take will be ice, and his heart will melt not. He will be reduced to the performance le’el o’ a demon’s way with an ordinary demoness.”

“Aye,” Flach agreed. “Dost that abate the onus o’ all my consequences?”

“Aye, Adept!” she agreed. “But I ne’er meant to make thee pay them; it were but fancy.”

He had suspected as much. Still, it was a relief. “Thank thee, Icy. Methinks I will e’er regret I were not made a snow demon.”

“That be but natural,” she pointed out. “Now needs must we sleep, for the morrow we meet the Pole.”

He had almost forgotten his mission, in the intrigue of his dialogue with the demoness. “Aye,” he said, and closed his eyes.

But it was a while before he was able to make his way down from the golden cloud to the more ordinary bed of snow, and sleep.

The guard demons had to dig them out in the morning, for the storm had buried their tent in snow. Icy sat up and stretched and breathed the horrendously coid air that rushed in as the tunnel reached the tent entrance.

Flach saw the shoveler-demon staring. “Icy, thy clothing,” he murmured “Dost not want thy guards melting before we reach the Pole.”

“To be sure!” she agreed, delighted, and got up to fetch her clothing. Actually his warning was not well taken, because she could no longer cause males to heat enough to melt. But he was mindful of her father’s caution; Flach’s grown image was to discourage the demons from getting ideas about a woman who was intended for demonly princes, not guards.

“And thou too, lover,” Icy said mischievously, glancing back at him.

Now Flach remembered that he was naked too, and that he had the semblance of a grown man. The guard demons could draw only one conclusion about what had gone on in the tent during the night. They would be wrong in detail, but perhaps not in principle. Had he been older, and colder...

He got up and dressed. Then they exited the tent, the demons gazing jealously at Flach, and got on the sledge. They had their breakfasts while zooming on toward the Pole. They played card games, and she skunked him continually. The consequences she demanded were always the same: she would wait till a guard was looking, then make Flach kiss her on the cheek or, sometimes, the lips, while she feigned reluctance. To the demons it would seem as if Flach were the one winning, and demanding the kisses from her. She wanted the world to know that she had made a conquest, and that the man had not died. All true, as far as it went. He wished it could be more than a mere game to her, and more than an impossible dream to him. He had understood the principle of mating, but had never before properly appreciated the intense lure of it, or the utter fascination a woman could represent for a man. Already he knew that it would take a very special woman to fulfill the longings Icy had seeded in him. Would there be any such, when he grew up?

“There it be!” she abruptly exclaimed.

Flach looked, surprised. There in the middle of the plain was a pole sticking in the snow. It was disappointingly simple, a mere column of ice with spiral ridges down its length. The oddest thing was that it was half in shadow. They drew up to it and halted.

“What now?” Icy inquired. “I realize that thy mission must seem a paltry thing, after my love, but surely thou dost have aught to do here?”

The guard demons fidgeted at this seeming confirmation of their suspicions. The demoness was truly enjoying herself.

The problem was that Flach had no idea what to do. The message had simply told him to come here. What now, indeed?

He walked over to the Pole. He touched it.

Immediately the Pole rose. A circular panel of ice came up, revealing a hole beneath. There were stairs going down.

“A cave ‘neath the Pole!” Icy exclaimed, delighted. “Ne’er suspected I this!”

Neither had Flach. But rather than seem uncertain, he squatted, ready to climb down the first big step. There had to be something for him in here.

I don ‘t like this, Nepe thought.

“Adept, ne’er would I gainsay thee, since thou mastered me,” Icy said timidly, for the guards were close by, nervously watching the hole as if afraid a fire-breathing dragon might put its head out. “But I intuit some mischief.”