Authors: Peter Straub
Instead of that, he saw her. She came alone out of thewoods in a curl of fog, unbuttoned a plaid shirt which engulfed her like a serape, and in the black bathing suit waded into the water like a doe.
He swam toward her, his heart half-sick with love.
Rose heard him splashing — emotion made his swimming even less expert — and retreated into water shallow enough for her to stand. Tom plowed toward her through heavy warm water. Only her head and neck were visible above the surface.
'Thanks for coming to visit me,' he said. 'I remember seeing you there a couple of times.'
'Well, I would have been there all the time, but I didn't want to upset Mr. Collins.' Rose was looking directly into his eyes with a quiet, deadly frankness.
Tom pushed his way through the water closer to her. 'It's so good to see you,' he said, and her face tightened down into itself again. She said, 'Me too.'
'Can't we get out of here soon? Today, maybe? He's going to tell us some more of his story tonight — it kind of makes me nervous.'
'They'd catch us today,' she said. 'Those men are all over the place. It's too early. Anyhow, you're okay until the big performance. Just be patient. I'm doing what I can.'
'I trust you, Rose,' he said. 'It's just that I'm getting . . . I don't know. This waiting is driving me crazy. I think that's why I got sick.'
Her hands, warmed by the water, lifted and rested on his shoulders. She linked her hands behind his neck. 'You won't be foolish when you see me tonight, will you?'
'Tonight?'
'During his story. I'm supposed to do some work then.'
'Oh. One of those scenes.'
'Sort of. But don't . . . you know. Say anything.'
'I won't,' he said. He was trembling.
Her face swam closer; the touch of her mouth extinguished his words. Then she spoke again. 'Tom, don't listen to anything he says about me. I think he knows I love you. You can't hide anything from him. But if he talks about me, it'll all be lies. Everything here is a lie.'
Rose hugged him tightly, and then gave him a comradely little pat on the back. 'Be patient,' she said. 'I have to go now.' Her head went under water, her body jackknifed, and she executed a smooth strong stroke which carried her away from him.
Tom turned around, his heart full, and saw a tall lean figure standing on the pier looking straight toward him. Coleman Collins. He glanced back to find Rose, but she was still under water. Tom felt a sudden unreasonable terror, as if the tiny figure on the dock had overheard what he and Rose had said. Collins was beckoning to him. He began to sidestroke back to Shadowland through the warm water.
Collins motioned him toward the pier, chopping with his hand. When Tom was only a few feet from the pier, he looked up at the magician's steely face. 'So you know our little Rose better than any of us realized,' Collins said. 'Come up here.'
'I just met her by accident,' Tom said. 'Get on the pier.'
Tom dog-paddled nearer, and Collins bent and reached down. Tom raised his own hand, and the magician lifted him onto the pier as if he weighed nothing. Dripping and frightened, Tom stood before him.
'I cannot recommend any distractions for you at this time,' Collins said.
It took Tom a moment to understand what he meant. 'In fact, excessive distraction from your task could prove dangerous, Tom. Do you understand? I will need your entire concentration.' 'Yes, sir.'
''Yes, sir.' Like a little schoolboy. Is it possible that you still do not understand the seriousness of what you are involved in?'
'I think I understand,' Tom said. The magician appeared sober but very angry.
'You
think
you do. I hope you know that you cannot put any credence in any word Rose utters. She is not — repeat — not — to be trusted. If you allow yourself to be led astray by that girl, you will be ruined. Is that clear?' Tom nodded. 'I see you still do not understand. So I will tell you oneof my secrets. That delightful child you were embracing in the water has never seen the town of Hilly Vale. She has no grandmother, and she never had parents. She is my creation. She has no notion of morality, and less of love.'
Tom looked at him sullenly, hating him.
'Oh, dear me. I see I better tell you a story,' the magician said. 'Sit down and listen.'
11
'The Mermaid'
Many years ago, when we all lived in the forest and nobody lived anywhere else, a lonely old king lived by the side of a lake in a drafty castle which had seen better days. Once it had been the most beautiful castle, and he the most powerful king, in the entire forest, which covered half the continent. Once tapestries had glowed from the walls, gold plates had shone from the table, and all of the castle had seemed to sparkle with a light which was the image of the great king's glory. But the queen had died, and the princesses had married princes from lands far away, other kings in the forest had taken territory in battles, and the old king lived alone and bitter, without glory or affections. His army had died of old age or been taken from him or simply faded into the forest, and so he could not increase his treasury by conquest. Only a few woodsmen and hunters remained to pay his taxes, and they paid chiefly out of loyalty to what had once been.
One of the old king's few pleasures was to walk at evening along the shore of the lake near the castle. The water was deep and blue, and from time to time he could see a bass jump, disturbing the gloomy quiet with a splash loud as cannon fire and causing ripples to spread all the way to the shore. At such times, the king would mourn, remembering when his own power was such that its rumors and effects rippled and widened a hundred miles in every direction. The old times of love and power — how he ached for them!
One night, taking his melancholy walk beside the lake,he saw a mighty bass leap out of the water, and was so moved by longing that he mumbled quietly to himself, 'Oh, I do wish . . . '
Then he heard a voice as ancient and cracked as his own. 'Do wish for what, your Majesty?'
The king whirled about and saw a wrinkled old man with a crafty face and a threadbare robe seated on a fallen log half — concealed by overgrown vegetation. He did not immediately recognize the old man, for he had not seen him since the days he had just been mourning.
'Oh, it's you, wizard,' the king said. 'I thought you were dead.'
'I die fresh every morning,' said the wizard. 'Coughing brings me back.'
'Tricks and confusion, that's all I ever had from you,' said the king, turning away from the lake in irritation. In truth he was pleased to see the wizard again, despite the accuracy of what he had just said.
'Halvor is very important now in the north,' said the wizard, as if to himself, 'and Bruno has made a name for himself in the south, and Lester the Ambitious in the west, and — '
'Shut up,' grumped the king. 'I know all that. I suppose you sold yourself to them, like everyone else. I suppose you work your evil tricks for reptiles like Lester, who gained power by poisoning most of his relatives.' The great bass rose out of the water again, smacked back down with a silvery thrash of his tail, and the king's heart folded with loss.
'They have their own wizards — upstarts who think only of money. If I worked for them, wouldn't I at least have new robes?'
'Umph,' the king said. 'You do look rather seedy, wizard.'
'No more than I feel. But didn't I hear you wishing a moment ago? For old times' sake, I'd be pleased to help you.'
'And bamboozle me the way you did everyone else you aided.'
'Wizards must be paid, like everyone else,' said the ancient creature on the log. 'What were you wishing for? A vast army? A treasury full of gold?' Then he gave theking an extremely shrewd look, and all his wrinkles seemed to smooth out for a moment. 'Or was it a beautiful young wife to warm your bones? A young wife, perhaps, with the power to restore your kingdom and return to you all that you have lost?'
The king's face darkened.
'I think I could find a wife for you,' mused the wizard, 'who could bewitch the armies of Halvor and Bruno so that you could subjugate the territories that were once yours, then raise enough treasure to invade the province of Lester the Ambitious — and who, though incapable of giving you children, would give you the illusion of love.'
'Only the illusion,' said the disappointed king.
'Look at it from my point of view,' said the wizard. 'All love is illusion to a wizard. And to possess this great blessing from which the others would flow, you need only tell me that you would sacrifice your gray hair and wear a beard instead. It is a better bargain than I gave the sparrows. It is a bitter truth, your Majesty, that you have less to surrender than they.'
Though old, the king was still vain, and he hated the thought of baldness. 'Will it be a full beard?' he asked.
'A very noble beard,' the wizard said. 'Need I point out that you do not require your hair to enjoy the fruits of love? And the wife I shall give you will make you a young man again.'
'Where will you get her from?' asked the king. 'Some foul contraption of wax and bear grease?'
'Not at all.' The wizard smiled. 'I will get her from there.' He nodded to the lake, and on the instant the great bass again broke the surface. 'She will be as beautiful as beautiful, with the power to enchant armies, but she will have the cold heart of a fish. Yet as long as you are king, you will believe in her love.'
'A strong back and firm flesh,' said the king. 'And the power to enchant armies.' He trembled on the edge of his decision for a moment, fearing that he was about to make a great mistake, but then thought of a woman as beautiful as beautiful, with the power to turn the armies of Halvor and Bruno against them, and his blood stirred, and he whispered, 'I take your bargain, wizard.'
'You must be on this spot at midnight,' said thewizard, all his wrinkles deepening as he grinned and disappeared.