times. To separate us, Russia had only to take that pass.
Then the northern bit became a 'protectorate.' The general's name was Lubovosk—thus the name of the country. Later, of course, it became a 'people's republic.' Under either name it was high, and remote, and difficult to reach. Grandmother told me that at first we paid no attention. We continued to go back and forth from north and south, but we had to go over the mountain instead of across the pass. Then there began to be changes in Lubovosk. The visitors who came from there came to stay. Visitors from Alphenlicht who went there didn't return.
There were whispers, rumors of evil."
"Aghrehond said I could ask you about shamans, but not when others were about."
The expression on his face was one of embarrassment, almost shame. "Yes. I am ashamed to say it. Black shamans, from the land of the Tungus. Dealers in necromancy. People who would trifle with the great arts. Dealers in sorcery. Ah.
You don't believe in any of this, do you?"
"It's not... it's not anything I've ever thought about except a s . . . as..."
"As a part of the superstitions of primitive peoples? Perhaps as survivals in the modern world? Little unquestioned things we learn as children? Fairy tales? No, you needn't apologize.
Let me explain it to you in a way you will understand.
"Let us say a woman is driving a car. There is an accident, and her child is pinned beneath that car. She is a little woman, but she lifts that car and frees her child. You know of such things happening, yes? Well, let us suppose that before she lifted the car, she danced widdershins around the spare tire and called upon the spirits of the internal combustion engine, then raised up the car to rescue her child. Do you follow what I say?"
"You mean the first thing is unusual, but natural. The second thing we would call magic?"
He beamed at her. "Precisely. The same thing happened in both cases, but only in one would we call it magic. There is much of which man is capable, much he is unaware of, all very natural. The worshipers of Zurvan, the Magi, are scholars of this knowledge. The shamans, too, are scholars, but they use the knowledge in a different way. They teach that the power comes through the ritual, through dancing around the spare tire. They teach, when they teach at all—which is not often, for they prefer to be mysterious—that the power comes through demons, godlings, devils. They teach that in order to obtain the power, it is necessary to propitiate these devils. Followers of Zurvan teach that the power is simply there. We may use rituals to help us focus our thoughts, but we know they are simply devices, not necessary functions. Am I making any sense to you at all?"
"You mean that their demons and devils don't really exist. ..."
He shook his head, reached over to touch her hands where they lay loosely gripping the reins, his face dappled with sun-light as he leaned toward her. "Would not exist, Marianne, except for them. The act of worship, of invocation, can bring things into being which did not exist of their own volition—
temporary demons, momentary gods."
His intensity made her uncomfortable. "Isn't it all more or less harmless?" she said, trying to minimize the whole matter.
"Mere superstition? Regrettable, but n o t . . . not..."
"Not dangerous? When the ritual demands blood, or maim-ing, or death, or binding forever?" His voice had become aus-tere, his expression forbidding and remote. "The difference between a true religion—and there are many which share as-pects of truth—and a dangerous cult is only this: In the one the individual is freed to grow and live and learn; in the other the individual is subordinated to the will of a hierarchy, enslaved to the purposes of that hierarchy, forbidden to learn except what the cult would teach. You have only to look at the rules which govern the servants of a religion to know whether its god is God indeed, or devil!" He passed his hand across his
Then the northern bit became a 'protectorate.' The general's name was Lubovosk—thus the name of the country. Later, of course, it became a 'people's republic.' Under either name it was high, and remote, and difficult to reach. Grandmother told me that at first we paid no attention. We continued to go back and forth from north and south, but we had to go over the mountain instead of across the pass. Then there began to be changes in Lubovosk. The visitors who came from there came to stay. Visitors from Alphenlicht who went there didn't return.
There were whispers, rumors of evil."
"Aghrehond said I could ask you about shamans, but not when others were about."
The expression on his face was one of embarrassment, almost shame. "Yes. I am ashamed to say it. Black shamans, from the land of the Tungus. Dealers in necromancy. People who would trifle with the great arts. Dealers in sorcery. Ah.
You don't believe in any of this, do you?"
"It's not... it's not anything I've ever thought about except a s . . . as..."
"As a part of the superstitions of primitive peoples? Perhaps as survivals in the modern world? Little unquestioned things we learn as children? Fairy tales? No, you needn't apologize.
Let me explain it to you in a way you will understand.
"Let us say a woman is driving a car. There is an accident, and her child is pinned beneath that car. She is a little woman, but she lifts that car and frees her child. You know of such things happening, yes? Well, let us suppose that before she lifted the car, she danced widdershins around the spare tire and called upon the spirits of the internal combustion engine, then raised up the car to rescue her child. Do you follow what I say?"
"You mean the first thing is unusual, but natural. The second thing we would call magic?"
He beamed at her. "Precisely. The same thing happened in both cases, but only in one would we call it magic. There is much of which man is capable, much he is unaware of, all very natural. The worshipers of Zurvan, the Magi, are scholars of this knowledge. The shamans, too, are scholars, but they use the knowledge in a different way. They teach that the power comes through the ritual, through dancing around the spare tire. They teach, when they teach at all—which is not often, for they prefer to be mysterious—that the power comes through demons, godlings, devils. They teach that in order to obtain the power, it is necessary to propitiate these devils. Followers of Zurvan teach that the power is simply there. We may use rituals to help us focus our thoughts, but we know they are simply devices, not necessary functions. Am I making any sense to you at all?"
"You mean that their demons and devils don't really exist. ..."
He shook his head, reached over to touch her hands where they lay loosely gripping the reins, his face dappled with sun-light as he leaned toward her. "Would not exist, Marianne, except for them. The act of worship, of invocation, can bring things into being which did not exist of their own volition—
temporary demons, momentary gods."
His intensity made her uncomfortable. "Isn't it all more or less harmless?" she said, trying to minimize the whole matter.
"Mere superstition? Regrettable, but n o t . . . not..."
"Not dangerous? When the ritual demands blood, or maim-ing, or death, or binding forever?" His voice had become aus-tere, his expression forbidding and remote. "The difference between a true religion—and there are many which share as-pects of truth—and a dangerous cult is only this: In the one the individual is freed to grow and live and learn; in the other the individual is subordinated to the will of a hierarchy, enslaved to the purposes of that hierarchy, forbidden to learn except what the cult would teach. You have only to look at the rules which govern the servants of a religion to know whether its god is God indeed, or devil!" He passed his hand across his
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