"First you must know how to travel," Gaea said. "You have a fine horse named Werre, but he's mainly
for formal occasions. Or you can discorporate, but that has risks. For now, the key is the Sword. There
are several modes of its operation, but all are governed by your will. If you choose to appear at the most
intense war currently being waged, you simply give it its head and it will take you there, instantly. The
Sword likes violence. If you want to go home-that is, to your castle in Purgatory-you give it the mental
command home."
"Purgatory?" Mym sang.
"A Western concept, a kind of crude, structured nirvana. It may be easiest to think of it as an island in
the sky, a place in the clouds, invisible to mortal folk, but real to immortals. The place where those souls
who have not made the decision whether to go to Heaven or to Hell pause. A place of indecision, or of
decision, however you see it."
"Reincarnation is more expedient," Mym sang.
"We Occidentals are not as sophisticated about the larger scale as are you Orientals," Gaea murmured,
smiling. But he was sure that this benign green woman was as sophisticated as any living person.
"I think first I want to rescue Rapture," he sang. "For that, you must use the directed travel," Gaea said.
"Simply point the Sword in the direction you wish to go and will it to proceed. A little experimentation
will give you the feel of it."
Mym looked at the sword he still held, whose glow had diminished to a dull red, as if it were slightly
red-hot. He was acquiring more respect for it. "But first I must escape the palace," he sang.
"The Sword will take you through the walls," Gaea said.
"That's what I'm afraid of!"
She smiled. "An Incarnation is only as solid as he chooses to be. You will pass through without
disruption."
Cautiously he pointed the Sword at an interior wall, so that he would not find himself abruptly in mid-air
outside, two stories up. Forward.' he thought. Slowly.
The sword moved-and he moved with it. There was no sensation; he remained standing, but traveling, as
if on a moving carpet or one of those scientific airplanes. Surprised, he lifted the Sword slightly, so that
it angled up-and found himself sliding upward at that angle, his feet leaving the floor. Hastily he angled
it level again-and sailed through the wall.
There was a moment of darkness; then he emerged from the other side of the stone. Now he was floating
slowly across the next chamber, half a meter above the floor.
He realized that he didn't have to worry about being outside at a height; the Sword made him
independent of support. He could fly, literally, without effort or discomfort.
Gaea appeared in the new chamber, in the form of coalescing mist. "Shall we proceed to Maharastra?"
the mist inquired.
Mym was getting to like the Sword very well. "But suppose I drop it?" he asked, still not quite certain
about venturing high and far.
"Try it here," she suggested.
He let go of the Sword. It remained floating in the air-and so did he. "But I'm not touching it!" he sang.
"The Red Sword is yours until you renounce it," Gaea said. "This is not a matter of physical contact.
You could give it to another person, even a mortal, and it would still be attuned to you. You can sheathe
it and orient it mentally, and it will not change physically, but will act as you will. It is a symbol as
much as an object, and its powers are great."
Evidently so. Mym took hold of the sword and sheathed it in the great, ornate scabbard that he abruptly
discovered at his hip-and remained floating. "Then let's go!" he sang.
In his mind he aimed the Sword up, at a thirty degree angle, and south. He willed a swift passage.
He got it. He shot upward at the angle, passing right through the building and into the nocturnal sky. The
process was exhilarating. Up, up he sailed, feeling no wind, no change of temperature. The magic of the
Sword kept him secure.
"But you must guide it, when the destination is not familiar to it," a cloud said.
Mym experienced deja vu. "Were you at the Honeymoon Castle?" he sang.
"Not specifically," another cloud replied. "I am in all things, but I don't interfere where I don't need to."
"A cloud talked to me, there," he sang.
"They do, on occasion," the cloud he was now passing agreed. "You may wish to steer inland."
He looked down and discovered that he was high over the surging Indian Ocean. He directed the Sword
southeast, and his direction of travel changed accordingly.
He accelerated, and the sea and dark shore moved by at a phenomenal pace, but still Mym himself stood
casually upright, feeling no wind resistance. Though it was dark, he was able to see around him; either
his night vision was sufficient, or the Sword was lending him enhanced powers of observation. He flew
in toward the giant city of Bombay, where he knew Rapture had been sent.
Lights shone all across the city, and the palace was brightest of all. Mym had no trouble reaching it. He
simply flew in through a stone wall and landed lightly on an upper floor.
But the palace was huge, and there were many chambers and suites. How could he locate Rapture,
without causing a stir while he searched?
Gaea's mist appeared, like vapor condensing. "Use the Sword again," she advised. "I understand that it
can tune in on the identity of any person and enable you to share that person's awareness. It is one-way;
the subject is not aware of you. But it can be quite useful on occasion."
"Tune in-on Rapture?" he sang. "But her privacy-I don't like to-"
"You have changed since the Honeymoon Castle. This, however, need not be that intimate. Merely avail
yourself of her perceptions, to identify her location; then go to it."
Oh. Mym touched the Sword. Rapture of Malachite, Princess of Maharastra, he thought.
Nothing happened.
"Titles mean nothing to it," Gaea advised him gently. "It perceives only the essence."
Mym tried again. This time he thought of the woman he loved.
He found himself looking at an ornate feminine dagger.
He blinked-and he was still standing in the chamber, his finger touching the Red Sword.
It had been Rapture's dagger he had seen.
She was contemplating suicide.
He looked again, this time tuning in on the peripheral aspects of her vision. She was in her private
bedroom, alone-but where was that? He was not familiar with the layout of this palace; that room could
be anywhere.
Then her gaze wandered vacantly to the mirror, and he saw her forlorn reflection. Her lustrous tresses
had dimmed, and her green-malachite eyes were rimmed in red. She was so lost without him! She had
been dependent on her father and now she was dependent on Mym; stripped of that support, she was
collapsing into herself. He had loved her because of that fundamental vulnerability; she truly did need
him.
Behind her reflected face, a portion of a window showed, and beyond it was a fragment of green. She
had set a green handkerchief at the sill, perhaps to dry after being soaked with her tears. That was so like
her!
He grasped the Sword. Out he directed. He sailed out through the wall and around the palace. There in
an upper window on the north side was a speck of green. He homed in on it, then passed in through the
window to land on the floor. "Rapture," he sang. She jumped, spun about, recognized him, and
collapsed.
He jumped forward and caught her as she fell. "Beloved!" he said, not stuttering for the moment. He
held her, kissed her, and held her some more, and in a moment she revived.
"Beloved!" she echoed.
"I have come to claim you," he sang. "But there is much to explain."
"Just hold me," she breathed. "I-without you, I-"
"I saw the dagger," he sang. "No need for that now."
Then, holding her, he sang his explanation: his assumption of the office of the Incarnation of War, by
grasping the great Red Sword; the new powers and responsibilities that provided him; and his ability to
take her with him-if she chose to come.
"Take me with you!" she cried without reservation.
"But it will mean a complete change in your life," he warned. "You would not be a princess any more."
She just looked at him, and he knew that nothing else mattered to her except being with him.
"Well, let's see how well we can travel together, then," he sang. He touched the Sword.
"A consideration," a wisp of mist said, forming in the room.
Rapture jumped again, but Mym reassured her. "That is Gaea, the Incarnation of Nature," he sang. "She
is helping me get started. She showed me how to reach you."
"If you take her away without explanation," Gaea said, "her father will assume that she has come to
some foul end and he will blame your Kingdom, Prince, with which he is at war. That would lead to
much mischief that I think you would prefer to avoid."
"I would prefer to stop this idiotic war entirely, by marrying Rapture!" Mym sang. "But my father-"
"Perhaps we can achieve your desire, with a little effort," Gaea said. "All that is needed is the apparent
acquiescence of the principals. What would make your marriage to the Prince of Rajasthan acceptable to
your father, Rapture?"
"I would not marry-" Rapture began angrily, but Gaea held up a finger, and the Princess was silenced.
Mym suspected that more magic was involved. "A reduced dowry," Rapture said, after a pause.
Gaea turned to Mym. "And if you acceded to marriage with the Princess of Rajasthan, proffering the
acceptance of a reduced dowry if the same were accepted for your former betrothed?"
Mym was beginning to comprehend. "I am sure the Rajah of Rajasthan would be amenable to that; he
expects to pay an exorbitant dowry. But certainly I'm not going to-"
"Would one of your handmaidens like to take your place?" Gaea asked Rapture.
Rapture smiled. "Any handmaiden would like to take the place of any princess! But-"
"Summon one you feel is worthy, who would be able to act your part, if she had the appearance and
opportunity."
"That would be the one who doubles for me on boring parades." Rapture said. "But up close, she does
not resemble me very well."
"Bring her here."
Rapture reached out and drew on a tassled cord. In moments a young woman appeared at the door. "Bit-
of-Honey, there is a task we may require of you," she said. "Listen to this woman."
Gaea, who was now completely solid, addressed the young woman. "The Princess Rapture of Malachite
must go away. But she wishes to appear to remain. If you will consent, I shall fashion you to the likeness
of the Princess, and you shall take her place."
Bit-of-Honey shrugged. "I have done so before."
Gaea smiled. "For the rest of your life."
The girl's eyes widened. "But she is to marry the Prince of-" Her gaze flicked to Mym "Was to marry-"
"She is now to marry the Prince of Rajasthan," Gaea said. "But she loves the Prince of Gujarat, so she is
going away with him. She would like you to assume her identity and marry the Prince of Rajasthan. Are
you willing to do that?"
"But I am only a common girl!" Bit-of-Honey protested.
"You will be the Princess-if you are willing to give up your present life in favor of that one, and keep the
secret."
"But-the Prince-I could never be more than a concubine to-"
Gaea touched her, and the girl's protestations abated.
"You can be what you choose to be. I will provide you with the voice and the appearance; you must
provide the will and the action. But you must choose now."
The girl looked wildly at Rapture. "Oh, Mistress, I would never betray you, but this-"
"Do it," Rapture said. "You know I have no life without Prince Pride of the Kingdom. You are welcome
to the Prince of Rajasthan."
"To be a princess..." the girl breathed, beginning to believe.
Gaea touched her again-and her appearance dissolved and changed and became that of Rapture. Even
her clothing conformed. "Speak," Gaea said.
"What shall I say?" the pseudo-Rapture asked. She sounded exactly like Rapture.
"You know what to do," Gaea said. "If you slip or falter, it will be over."
The woman looked in the mirror at herself, amazed.
Then her shoulders straightened. "I will not falter," she said.
"But what of my disappearance?" Mym sang.
"We shall take care of you now," Gaea said. "Will yourself back to the place where the Sword came to
you; it is familiar with that site. Make sure you have a good grip on Rapture."
Mym touched the sword with his left hand and put his right arm about Rapture's slender waist. To the
place of our meeting, he thought.
And they were there.
Gaea's cloud formed. However she traveled, it wasn't the same way Mars did. "Now we need a young
man to assume your identity," she said.
Mym considered. "I had a sparring partner of royal birth, for my weapons training," he sang. "He knows
the ways of princes, and he likes wealth and power. I believe he could and would play the part."
They summoned the man; after a dialogue similar to the one that had occurred in Bombay, the man
assumed the likeness of Mym, and was afflicted with his stutter-but was happy to marry the Princess of
Rajasthan and carry the privileges and responsibilities of the position.
Now they were free to depart the mortal realm.
"The staff of your castle will assist you hereafter," Gaea said. "I shall encounter you in the line of
business. I wish you well."
"I thank you for the invaluable help you have provided me," Mym sang. "I hope I shall not disappoint
you in the office."
"Only if you allow yourself to be deceived by Satan," she said, and dissolved into vapor.
Mym put his arm around Rapture, touched the Red Sword, and willed them to his castle home in
Purgatory.
He found himself in the entrance-foyer of a castle as seemingly solid as any he had encountered. Huge
gray stones rose up to an enormous height. He tapped one and found it solid. "If this is a castle in the
sky, it is nevertheless quite substantial," he sang.
There was a stir within the castle. Several gaunt figures came to the foyer. Rapture shrank away from
them.
Mym recognized one in a black cloak. "Famine!" he sang.
Famine nodded. "And you are Mars," he replied.
Mym turned to the others. "And you are-?"
"Conquest," a big, hearty man in a white cloak said. He smiled, and his teeth showed like polished white
ivory.
"Slaughter," the one in the blood-red cloak said. There were ragged slashes across his face that dripped
fresh blood. Rapture shuddered and averted her gaze.
"Pestilence," said the one in the dirt-brown cloak. His face was a squirming mass of maggots. Rapture
screamed and shrank away.
"My companion is distraught," Mym sang. "Do not take offense."
"Offense?" Pestilence asked, a maggot spraying out as he pronounced the S. "I am flattered!"
They passed on into the castle proper. The castle staff was lined up, ready for inspection by the new
master.
"Do you know how to serve royalty?" Mym sang.
"We do," the head butler replied.
"Then see to the needs of the Lady Rapture," Mym sang. "And provide me with a person who can tell
me what I need to know."
The butler snapped his fingers. Immediately two maids stepped up to Rapture. "We shall see you to your
suite," one said. "There is a bath waiting and a change of dress."
Rapture hesitated, glancing at Mym. She didn't want to be separated from him in this strange place.
"Did you meet the lesser Incarnations?" the other maid asked. "Aren't they simply awful? I had bad
dreams for days after I saw Slaughter, and as for Pestilence-!"
Rapture tamed her gaze to the maid, discovering companionship. She relaxed. These people might be all
right after all. She went with them.
"These are marvelously accommodating personnel," Mym remarked.
"This is our station in the Afterlife," the head butler said. "To know and serve your needs. The Lady
Rapture will be made at ease."
"Afterlife?" Mym sang.
"We are not among the living," the butler said.
"But you seem quite solid."
"Here in Purgatory, sir, everything seems solid, but only you and the Lady Rapture have physical
substance beyond these environs. The rest of us-and the castle too-are only solid in a qualified sense."
"I have some difficulty accepting this."
"We are as pictures on a sheet of paper. When you confine yourself to that frame of reference, the
pictures are sufficient. But when you exert yourself in the three dimensional frame, we no longer have
relevance. You have mortal substance that we lack."
"Purgatory-is a picture on a sheet of paper?"
"In a manner of speaking. A facet of existence limited to a plane. From the surface of the Earth, mortals
see right through that plane. But when you come to it, you join it and interact with us in what may seem
to be a normal manner."
"I can't believe that you don't really exist!"
"We exist, sir. But only in a limited sense. Heaven and Hell are similarly limited; only mortals have the
full range of experience."
"Isn't this horribly restrictive? Don't you feel imprisoned?"
"This is eternity. Though we lack the freedom to affect our destinies that mortals possess, we are freed
from the concern about pain and termination that they suffer from. We comprehend the shape of our
existence. Our reality is as if it were stretched out in an infinitely narrow but infinitely long path, unlike
that of mortals."
"To be a butler-for eternity? No reincarnation?"
"Not for eternity. Only for a few centuries, until the inevitable shift of the ratio of good and evil in us
permits departure to Heaven and everlasting peace."
"A few centuries!"
"It is worth it, sir. We have only to do our jobs-and these are not unpleasant jobs. It would be my
pleasure to serve you even if my destination were not dependent on it."
Mym would not have been satisfied with such a situation-but of course he was a mortal-or was he?
"What is my status, now? Will I age and die in this office?"
"By no means, sir. You will remain fixed as you are now, for your full term, which will terminate only
when war on Earth abates. You are an Incarnation of Immortality-a temporary immortal."
"Who else is in this situation?"
"There are five, or perhaps seven, major Incarnations. Death, Time, Fate, War, and Nature, in addition to
Good and Evil. There are a greater number of lesser Incarnations, such as the associates of War whom
you met in the foyer. But the only ones you need be concerned about are the major ones, who will
generally cooperate with you."
"Generally?"
"God, the Incarnation of Good, does not involve Himself with mortal matters, in accordance to the
Covenant. Mortals must choose their own denouements. Therefore He will neither help nor hinder you,
though He does watch you."
Mym was glad that he had picked up a smattering of Western mythology; otherwise this would have
been very confusing. "What of the Incarnation of Evil?"
"He is Satan, and because he is evil, he freely violates the Covenant. He will seek to do mischief, turning
your efforts to his designs. He wishes to gain power by acquiring a greater number of souls than God
possesses."
This aligned with the warning Gaea had given him. Satan would cause trouble. "But how can he do this,
if I am alert against it?"
"Satan is devious, and the master of misdirection. It is customary for him to, if you will pardon the
crudity of the expression, work over new Incarnations, You will be a target, sir."
"It is true that Satan conspired to eliminate my predecessor?"
"It is true, sir."
"What did the former Mars do to arouse Satan's wrath?"
"He supervised a challenge that the present Fate made to Satan, ensuring that it was fairly conducted.
This enabled Fate to balk Satan's design."
"But that's unreasonable!" Mym sang. "A fair contest-"
"Satan is not a reasonable entity, sir. He is interested only in his own design."
"And Mars-surely he was not helpless in his own defense?"
"He tolerated the ploy."
"Why would he do that, knowing that this would be to Satan's advantage and that he himself would
perish?"
"He did not perish. He went to Heaven. That is a consummation devoutly to be desired. The cessation of
war had been his most devout wish."
"But that's a conflict of interest! If he abolishes his job-"
"Not if one's wish is to go to Heaven, sir."
Mym considered that. "So Mars wanted to go to Heaven and could only get there by having his job end
in a positive manner-so Satan facilitated that, and it behooved Mars to cooperate."
"Exactly, sir."
"But now Satan has a new and inexperienced Mars to, as you put it, work over."
"Exactly, sir."
"And I will not get to Heaven unless I succeed in abolishing war."
"Admirably phrased, sir."
"There's only one catch."
"Sir?"
"I don't want to go to Heaven."
"Sir?" The butler was visibly startled.
"I am a Hindu. Not a good one, obviously-but my desire is not for Heaven but for nirvana."
The butler made a moue. "Then it would seem that Satan does not have the inducement to proffer you
that he proffered to your predecessor."
"Correct."
"This should be a most interesting encounter, sir."
Mym smiled. "Let's hope so."

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