“Uh, yes. I enjoyed it,” said Wiz, startled by the creature’s appearance.
“Oh, do not be afraid, mortal. I cannot harm you. I am bound to this well.”
“You play beautifully.”
“It is the song of heart’s desire.” said the creature.
Around the pool, frogs croaked and trilled in crescendo. There must be thousands of them, Wiz thought distractedly, but he could see none of them in the moonlight.
“When Ali Suliman held here . . . did you know Ali Suliman?” the creature asked. “No? Before your time I fear. A most refined gentleman and a truly great sorcerer. Such a delightful sense of humor. Well, when Ali Suliman had this place things were much different. The palace was ablaze with light and filled with guests. Often Ali Suliman would bring his—special—guests to this pond to hear me play and discourse with me.”
The thing sighed gustily and shook its shaggy head. “All is changed, alas. Few mortals come here now and fewer still hear my music.”
“I’m sorry,” said Wiz, abstractedly.
The being waved its flute in a dismissing gesture.
“The music is not important. It is the desire it represents that matters. The longing, the yearning in the mortal breast.” He gazed at Wiz with opalescent eyes. “I can fulfill that desire,” it said with utter conviction. “I can give you the one thing you want most. That is what matters.”
The hair prickled on the back of Wiz’s neck. The creature was so compelling that Wiz did not doubt for an instant that it could do what it said. In the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t be here listening to this, but the promise held him.
“Your heart’s desire, mortal,” the creature crooned. “Your heart’s desire.” The frogs croaked louder.
Wiz licked his lips. “How do I know you can deliver?” he asked.
“Oh, by magic,” cackled the being, its pupilless eyes like opals in the moonlight. “By magic.”
“What is my heart’s desire?”
“Why a woman, mortal. A woman not far from this very place.”
“What do you want in return?”
“Merely a game, mortal. It grows lonely here and time must be passed.”
“What kind of game?”
“Why any kind you chose. Would you have a race? Will you wrestle me?”
Neither one sounded like a good idea to Wiz. The furry haunches were powerfully muscled and the thing’s chest was broad and deep.
“No, nothing physical.”
“Then something magical?” The creature made a swipe with his hand and left a glittering trail through the night air.
“I—I don’t practice magic,” Wiz stammered.
The creature grinned disquietingly. “A pity. A true pity. Well then, what about a game of the mind? The riddle game? Yes, the riddle game.”
Like a lot of programmers Wiz took inordinate pride in his problem-solving ability. He firmly believed that any riddle could be solved by a combination of logic and careful examination. Besides, by using truth tables it is possible to construct some mind-boggling riddles, and Wiz had a lot of experience with truth tables.
Wiz licked his lips and found they tasted metallic. The invisible frogs redoubled their croaking.
“All right. I’ll play your riddle game. Who goes first?”
The thing on the rock chuckled, an eerie, burbling sound. “Oh, there is only one riddle in the riddle game, mortal. And I am the one who asks it.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t the way the game was played as Wiz remembered it, but now he was committed. “Ask then.”
The thing on the rock blew a thin airy phrase on its flute and began to sing:
“Black as night, white as snow
Red as blood from the death-wound flow
Precious as gold
Worthless as dross
Cold beyond cold
Gained without loss
Higher and deeper and wider than all
At fingertips always, gone beyond call
What am I?”
The frogs fell silent in chorus. Wiz racked his brains trying to come up with something that fit. Precious as gold, worthless as dross . . . Something that was valuable only to one person? Gained without loss? Wiz’s mind ran itself in tight little circles as he tried to imagine what cold possibly fit.
“The answer, mortal,” the creature leaned forward, his yellow eyes glowing with unholy light. “I will have the answer or I will have thy soul.”