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Authors: Jack L. Chalker
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hang-ups, they drove me crazy. Over here,
like this, I'm free of all that."
He grinned at the implications of that. They had a long way
to go, after all. That did, however, bring him back to the future.
"We should be going in the morning. Ruddygore's convention
is still a rough ride from here, and it's all paths rather than
roads."
That brought her up short a bit. "That could be a problem,"
she told him. "I'm nocturnal. The sun kind of saps my strength,
puts me to sleep."
He laughed and walked over to the packs, then rooted through
them for a moment before coming up with an object. "That
explains this, then. I didn't have much to do, so I decided to
look at what Ruddygore had put in here. Among the things
was this." He brought the object over and handed it to her.
It was a pair of sunglasses, a wraparound sort that hugged
the face, with cupped lenses that blocked all light not coming
through them, almost like goggles. She put them on and was
not surprised to find that they were a perfect fit, even adjusted
Page 35
Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
properly for her pointed, elfin ears and the new shape of her
face. She took them off again and looked at them, then giggled.
"See the printing down here on the frame?"
He shook his head. "It's too dark for me."
"It says,'Made in Taiwan'!" .
CHAPTER 5
A FEW MINOR OBSTACLES
/( is best to avoid volcanoes whenever possible.
—Rules, XXII, 196(c)
THE GLASSES PROVED SUFFICIENT FOR MARGE TO ENDURE DAYlight,
but did nothing to restore needed sleep. She fitted on the
44
DEMONS OF THE DANCING GODS
horse fine, though, despite the membranous wings and her
smaller size, and found no trouble keeping an almost effortless
balance. Finally she just told Joe that she had to nod out, and
he told her to do so. Although the fearsome Firehills loomed
in front of them, they would not reach them until late in the
day, and the land was pretty much a flat semidesert, requiring
no real riding skills. Her horse was well trained, although Joe
wished often for Posti, the gray mare who was really a transformed
dirt farmer. Posti had returned safely to Terindell, but
was not allowed to make this trip to Sachalin. Ruddygore had
been more than worried about a transformed horse in the midst
of a bunch of drunken sorcerers.
Things went smoothly for several hours. Joe was a little
bored, but he'd made his living in the old days driving a truck,
and this was a lot easier to handle than a fully loaded semi.
He did wish now, as he had often wished, that saddles came
with tape decks, but he compensated by singing his favorite
old Ferlin Husky and Way Ion Jennings tunes. He had a lousy
voice, but it was always impossible to convince him of that
fact in this world or the one from which he'd come; as he belted
out tune after tune, he hardly took notice of the hordes of
insects, small animals, and birds fleeing in all directions before
him as if from a forest fire. As for Marge, when she was out,
she was out, it seemed, which suited him just fine right now.
He needed some time to think.
She definitely took some getting used to, he reflected. She'd
been okay before; Ruddygore had given her a pretty good
figure. But, particularly after that witch in the wood got hold
other, she'd been less of a looker and more like a female jock.
This new Marge—or new, new Marge—was something else
again. Small, petite, cute, sexy as all hell, and naked to boot.
The batlike wings were so beautifully colored that they seemed
more like some precious butterfly's than anything negative.
She was definitely no longer human—no real person had ever
been put together so absolutely perfectly, except maybe in some
artist's dreams—but the old Marge personality and an
incongruous trace of a Texas accent still came through.
Page 36
Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
Those wings, they were funny things, he decided. He'd
seen her fly and knew that she just
like this, I'm free of all that."
He grinned at the implications of that. They had a long way
to go, after all. That did, however, bring him back to the future.
"We should be going in the morning. Ruddygore's convention
is still a rough ride from here, and it's all paths rather than
roads."
That brought her up short a bit. "That could be a problem,"
she told him. "I'm nocturnal. The sun kind of saps my strength,
puts me to sleep."
He laughed and walked over to the packs, then rooted through
them for a moment before coming up with an object. "That
explains this, then. I didn't have much to do, so I decided to
look at what Ruddygore had put in here. Among the things
was this." He brought the object over and handed it to her.
It was a pair of sunglasses, a wraparound sort that hugged
the face, with cupped lenses that blocked all light not coming
through them, almost like goggles. She put them on and was
not surprised to find that they were a perfect fit, even adjusted
Page 35
Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
properly for her pointed, elfin ears and the new shape of her
face. She took them off again and looked at them, then giggled.
"See the printing down here on the frame?"
He shook his head. "It's too dark for me."
"It says,'Made in Taiwan'!" .
CHAPTER 5
A FEW MINOR OBSTACLES
/( is best to avoid volcanoes whenever possible.
—Rules, XXII, 196(c)
THE GLASSES PROVED SUFFICIENT FOR MARGE TO ENDURE DAYlight,
but did nothing to restore needed sleep. She fitted on the
44
DEMONS OF THE DANCING GODS
horse fine, though, despite the membranous wings and her
smaller size, and found no trouble keeping an almost effortless
balance. Finally she just told Joe that she had to nod out, and
he told her to do so. Although the fearsome Firehills loomed
in front of them, they would not reach them until late in the
day, and the land was pretty much a flat semidesert, requiring
no real riding skills. Her horse was well trained, although Joe
wished often for Posti, the gray mare who was really a transformed
dirt farmer. Posti had returned safely to Terindell, but
was not allowed to make this trip to Sachalin. Ruddygore had
been more than worried about a transformed horse in the midst
of a bunch of drunken sorcerers.
Things went smoothly for several hours. Joe was a little
bored, but he'd made his living in the old days driving a truck,
and this was a lot easier to handle than a fully loaded semi.
He did wish now, as he had often wished, that saddles came
with tape decks, but he compensated by singing his favorite
old Ferlin Husky and Way Ion Jennings tunes. He had a lousy
voice, but it was always impossible to convince him of that
fact in this world or the one from which he'd come; as he belted
out tune after tune, he hardly took notice of the hordes of
insects, small animals, and birds fleeing in all directions before
him as if from a forest fire. As for Marge, when she was out,
she was out, it seemed, which suited him just fine right now.
He needed some time to think.
She definitely took some getting used to, he reflected. She'd
been okay before; Ruddygore had given her a pretty good
figure. But, particularly after that witch in the wood got hold
other, she'd been less of a looker and more like a female jock.
This new Marge—or new, new Marge—was something else
again. Small, petite, cute, sexy as all hell, and naked to boot.
The batlike wings were so beautifully colored that they seemed
more like some precious butterfly's than anything negative.
She was definitely no longer human—no real person had ever
been put together so absolutely perfectly, except maybe in some
artist's dreams—but the old Marge personality and an
incongruous trace of a Texas accent still came through.
Page 36
Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
Those wings, they were funny things, he decided. He'd
seen her fly and knew that she just
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