Air Apparent (15 page)

“Aww, that’s no fun,” Happy said. “I’m gonna go find me some eye scream to eat.”

This was odd. “Peeve, what’s the matter with her?” Fray asked the bird, who was hovering without landing.

“It’s the reversal. You have become adult, and she’s a child. You never know which way reverse wood will work.”

“How can I be adult? I don’t know the Adult Conspiracy.” Then she reconsidered. “And don’t want to know. There is excellent reason to protect children from such dangerous knowledge.”

“Oh, who cares?” Happy demanded, putting a twig in her hair. “I’m going to go find me a man and pop his eyeballs.”

“Mother!” Fray said severely. “Forget that and gather some twigs.”

“Awww.” But Happy grudgingly obeyed the voice of authority. Their positions had indeed reversed.

Fray glanced again at the bird. “Why are you hovering?”

“To avoid reversal the moment I touch the tree, dummy,” the peeve said. “Think I want to become Xanth’s nicest bird?”

“It would be an improvement.”

Happy wasn’t being very effective, so Fray gathered the twigs herself. Someone had to be responsible, after all; children couldn’t be depended on. When she had several she took them to the peeve and fitted them carefully into the little bag it carried by a string. “There. Now fly back toward Goblin Mountain. We’ll follow when we can catch a fair wind.”

The peeve pumped its wings—and dropped to the ground. “Ooops. The bag’s too close; it’s grounded me.”

That was no good. Fray made a swift adult decision. “Then we will walk back. It’s not too far. I’ll carry you.” She put out a wrist, and the peeve obligingly perched on it. The bag of twigs dangled below her arm, but she could feel its power.

They walked north. Soon they came to a little shop run by a gnome. The creature was quick to spot an opportunity. “We have a sale on beauty aids,” he called. “Come get them while they’re cheap!”

“Oooo!” Happy cried, running to the shop. “What do you have?”

“Watch out,” the peeve muttered. “That’s a rip-off outfit. I’ve seen them before.”

“Mother, we can’t afford to waste time or attention on diversions,” Fray said.

“This is a beauty mark,” the gnome said smoothly. “Put it on and you will be the most beautiful lady extant.”

“Oooo!”

“Mother!”

“Or these hair clips,” the gnome said quickly as Happy hesitated. “They will cut your hair to just the right length.”

Fed up, Fray walked across and caught her mother by the ear. “No cosmetics until we complete our mission,” she said. “Gwenny Goblin is depending on us.”

Reluctantly, Happy went.

But soon they encountered another man. He was human and halfway handsome. Happy approached him immediately. “I’m Happy Bottom. Let’s summon a stork or two, stranger.”

“Mother!!”

The man was taken aback, but only one step. “I’m Curtis. I’m interested, but I have the talent of not being able to finish what I start.”

“I’ll finish it for you,” Happy said, opening her shirt.

Fray was too appalled to speak immediately. Happy had become a child in a woman’s body, and was exploiting its features without fear of consequences. That was downright dangerous.

“Mother,” the peeve said in Fray’s voice. “If you don’t get moving this instant, you’ll get no dessert!”

Happy began to cry. Curtis, surprised and nervous, quickly made a retreat.

“Thanks, peeve,” Fray murmured. “How come you are being so helpful?”

“It’s this blessed bag of twigs. It’s making me uncomfortably nice. I’m horrified to think what it might do if it were any closer.”

“That will do. But we’ve got to get that reverse wood twig out of Mother’s hair before she gets in real trouble.”

“You’ll have to do it. All it can do is make you more adult responsible.”

“That’s true.” Fray reached up and tried to jerk the twig from Happy’s hair. But her hand became vapor the moment it touched; she had been reversed another way. “Now what, genius?” she asked with adult irony.

“Maybe if she turns cloud, it will drop to the ground. Then she’ll be herself again.”

“A worthwhile notion,” Fray agreed. “Mother, why don’t you try diffusing for a while? It should be less tiring.”

“Okay,” Happy said with childish acceptance. She dissolved into vapor, and the twig dropped away.

“Now condense again,” Fray said. “The wind remains wrong.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, child!” Happy snapped. Then she paused reflectively, sunlight bouncing off her shiny surface. “What just happened?”

“You were reversed by reverse wood, Mother,” Fray said. “You were acting childish.”

“Horrors! We can’t afford that. We have a mission to accomplish.” She solidified and marched resolutely north.

It was good to have her mother back. But a small part of Fray was sorry, too. Had she kept her mouth shut, she might finally have seen exactly how storks were summoned.

They reached Goblin Mountain by mid-morning. This time Gwenny and Goody were out at the entrance to intercept them before the uncouth goblin males did. “Did you get it?” Gwenny asked anxiously.

“Right here, you charming creature,” the peeve said, jerking the string holding the bag.

“Excellent. We shall cook up the broth immediately. Goody knows how to do it.”

“I do,” Goody agreed, taking the bag in his hand, releasing the peeve.

“Hey, you’re going to get reversed, dolt,” the peeve said.

“No. I am already reversed.” Goody walked back into the mountain with the bag.

“Oh, while you were away, I think I thought of the reason I was identified as a clue,” Gwenny said to the Clouds. “So I could help you succeed in your quest. Here is my insight: A report arrived saying that the Random Factor has escaped his cell and is on the loose. You are looking for Fracto. That’s an anagram: Factor, Fracto. There has to be a connection.”

“The Factor escaped—and Fracto got caught,” Happy said. “Could they have somehow switched places?”

“That is my thought,” Gwenny agreed. “I think you should check Castle Maidragon.”

“Daddy’s in the Factor’s cell?” Fray asked.

“We don’t know that, dear,” Gwenny said with adult caution. “But it does seem possible.”

“We’ll go there on the first fair wind,” Happy Bottom said, showing a flash of actual happiness for the first time since Fracto had disappeared.

“This should be fun,” Fray said. “I’ve never seen that castle up close. Are you coming, peeve?”

“Not me,” the peeve said. “My job is done. I just want to go home and resume insulting passersby.”

Gwenny ruffled its feathers. “After you get through insulting our goblin males. They really need your attention.”

The peeve nodded thoughtfully. “They do. And I need the practice, to recover my edge.”

Things were looking quite positive.

ESCAPE

In the morning Hugo exchanged minds with Bathos Bat, and made ready to explore more of the environment. Brunhilda was there. “I will fly with you,” she said. “Maybe I can help.”

“I’m not Bathos,” he told her. “I’m Hugo.” He wasn’t at all sure he wanted her along.

“I know who you are. You’re the one with the marvelous talent.”

“No, that remains with my body. If you go there now, you can gorge on fresh ripe fruit.”

“Only while Bathos occupies your body. Once you obtain your freedom, and depart, he will revert to his normal pathetic self.”

“That’s unfair,” Hugo protested desperately. “He has a fine talent.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll kiss you, like this.” She kissed him before he could dodge.

She had done it again. The kiss stirred his desire and gutted his protest. She wanted to make him her love slave, and knew exactly how to do it. If he tried to protest further, she would do it immediately. She didn’t care that he was a human man.

He made his way to the cave entrance, and she paced him. He took wing, and she matched him perfectly.

It was probably useless, but he had to try. “What would you want with a human man anyway?”

“A bushel of fruit every day,” she replied without hesitation. “What more could any fruit bat want?”

“But I must get home to my wife, whom I love.”

“She will learn to make do without you, in time.”

“But I could never be a—a husband to you. We’re of different species. We couldn’t summon the stork together.”

Brunhilda shrugged in air. “Stork summoning is overrated, not that bats bother with it. Your alien form makes you safe in that respect; you won’t expect constant physical attention. As my love slave you will obey my every whim regardless of your species. I can see advantages.”

“I can’t. I just want to be home with Wira. She’s the only one I’ll ever truly love, and I can summon the stork with her.”

Brunhilda sighed. “You’re getting independent again. I see I’ll have to kiss you.”

“No!” he cried supersonically. He winged straight into blank air, trying to escape.

But she paralleled him without seeming effort. “I love it when you attempt bravado. It makes the conquest that much sweeter—and I do have a sweet tooth. All the same, I’d better kiss you.”

“There’s a dragon!” he cried.

“Why do you think I’ll fall for that familiar ruse, you cute thing?” She oriented, making ready to kiss him while on the wing. That was surely not all she could do in flight.

A jet of fire almost toasted her rear. “Because it’s true,” Hugo said, diving clear.

“For pity’s sake,” Brunhilda said as the dragon opened his ponderous and mottled jaws to take her in.

Then she kissed the dragon on his hot upper lip. It was no token effort; she plastered the monster with a huge wet one lasting a moment and several instants. Evidently it required a more heroic effort to affect a creature that size.

The dragon veered crazily, losing elevation. Little hearts swirled in the vortex of his descent. That answered the question of whether her power worked on other creatures: she had just rendered the dragon into her love slave.

“Now where we we?” she inquired, rejoining Hugo.

“We were searching for a way for me to escape my confinement in that cell,” Hugo said. “I don’t even know where that castle is.”

“Oh, that’s no problem. It’s the human Castle Mai-dragon, named after its caretaker, Becka Dragongirl. I thought you knew.”

“Castle Maidragon!” he exclaimed, amazed. “I have heard of it! Why didn’t I think of it?”

“Because you don’t have a good female to keep you in proper order. As my love slave you will remember whatever I tell you to remember, and not much else. Mainly, my favorite fruits. Let’s see to that now.” She swung in close to him, to plant the kiss.

He dodged so hard that the universe spun for half a moment. When his orientation cleared, he was hovering in a glade surrounded by several old oak trees. There was some sort of ceremony taking place there.

“Oh my soul,” Brunhilda said behind him. “It’s a wedding! I just love weddings.”

A robust, handsome human man stood before the group. “We are here to celebrate the union between Forrest Faun and Imbri Nymph-mare,” the man intoned. “I am King Emeritus Trent Human, here by request to officiate, being long familiar with the bride. All be seated, please.”

The small group sat on the greensward. Hugo and Brunhilda settled also, so as not to make a commotion. “I know Magician Trent,” Hugo murmured in bat talk. “Maybe I can tell him my plight, and he can help me.”

“After the wedding,” Brunhilda said firmly. It seemed there was just something about females and weddings.

“A spot recap,” Trent said. “Imbri has been known to us for decades, first as a Night Mare bringing bad dreams to those who deserved them. Then she was briefly the Mare King of Xanth, when the Horseman was taking us all out in turn. She finally dispatched him, rescuing us all, but in the process lost her body. Thereafter she became a Day Mare, bringing pleasant dreamlets, and some of us may have preferred her that way. Then the Good Magician assigned her to assist Forrest Faun, here, in his quest to find a new faun to represent the tree of his lost friend Branch Faun. He did not succeed, but Imbri kindly consented to assume the role of nymph, saving the tree.”

Trent looked around. A number of human eyes were wet; it was part of the magic of weddings. They made folk cry for no reason. “Since then Imbri’s original body has been recovered, and also Branch Faun. Her association with the tree has enabled her to assume nymph form. Now she will marry Forrest and share his tree, so that Branch can have his tree back. Meanwhile Branch is serving as Best Faun, and his favorite chasee as Nymph of Honor. I trust that no one present takes exception to that.”

For some reason, no one did. “Step forward,” Trent said. Forrest Faun did so, and so did a lovely nymph whose long black hair swished around like a horse’s tail. “I now pronounce you Faun and Nymph, to share your long lives and tree henceforth. You may kiss.”

They kissed, and even Hugo found his eyes wet. Little hearts orbited them so swiftly that some spiraled out to land in the audience, causing appreciative ooohs. As they touched people and popped, they left mini-daydreams of gamboling fauns, nymphs, and spirited horses. It was beautiful.

“Oh, I have to get married,” Brunhilda breathed.

It was time to move on. Hugo took wing and flew toward Magician Trent, hoping to attract his attention and somehow establish his identity. Trent would certainly be able to help.

But Brunhilda caught him from behind. “Not so fast, love slave!” They swirled out of control, the universe spinning again.

And there they were, back under the dragon’s nose. They must have suffered some kind of magic vortex that carried them to the romantic wedding, and then back here. Had that been another random event?

Random! Now he remembered: it was the Random Factor who occupied the lowest cell of Castle Maidragon. Hugo had somehow switched places with the dread Factor!

The dragon sniffed him, and revved up some fire. “No, no, honey,” Brunhilda said, petting him on a nostril with the tip of a wing. “This bat is not for burning. I’m about to enslave him too.”

The dragon did not seem entirely pleased, but had to go along with it. That was, it seemed, what love slavery was all about. How was he going to escape it?

“I have to notify someone of my picklement,” he said.

“Oh, all right,” she said, humoring him. “My kiss hasn’t recharged yet anyway.”

That was right: she couldn’t invoke that magic kiss after exhausting it on the dragon. So this was his window of opportunity to escape her, and his confinement in the Factor’s cell. He didn’t know how it had happened, but he knew he had to get out while he could.

“Maybe the dragon can help,” Brunhilda said. “Dragon, what’s your name?”

“Dragoman Dragon,” the beast replied.

She almost fell out of the air. “You speak my language!”

“I ought to,” Dragoman said. “I’m a professional interpreter. I speak many winged monster dialects.”

“But you were going to toast and chomp us!”

“That was before you kissed me, you passionate vamp.”

“I’m not a vampire bat, I’m a fruit bat.”

The dragon lifted half a brow, evidently realizing that her vocabulary was limited compared to his. “Seductive creature.”

“That’s better,” she agreed, mollified.

“But with your linguistic expertise, why waste it on stupid chomping?” Hugo asked. “Any dull creature can do that.”

“A dragon’s got to eat.”

That did seem to make sense. “Well, that will have to wait, sweetie,” Brunhilda said. “We have to talk with someone to tell them that Hugo here is really a human being in bat form.”

“A human being! Oh, he really needs chomping!”

“No way,” Brunhilda said sternly. “I need him.”

“Please? With toasted acorns and hot peppers?” the dragon pleaded.

“I said no. I might even marry him.”

“I’m already married,” Hugo reminded her.

“I’ll toast and chomp his present wife,” Dragoman offered. “Then he’ll be free to marry you.”

“Well,” Brunhilda said, considering.

“No!” Hugo said. “I’ll never conjure another fruit for you.”

“Then what good will you be to me?”

“None.”

“So you might as well let me toast him,” the dragon said reasonably. “Then I can marry you. We’ll make winged monster history.”

Oops. Hugo had walked into that one.

“We’ll see how you feel once you’re my love slave, Hugo,” she decided. “I think I can persuade you to conjure fruit, considering the alternative.”

“When pigs fly,” Hugo said, realizing as he said it that he was walking into further mischief.

“I know a flying pig,” she said. “Pigasus, who as food is hambrosia.”

“I’ll toast that pig!” the dragon said, slavering eagerly.

“For now, just lead us to someone Hugo can contact,” Brunhilda said. “Preferably human.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, dear reptile, if you ever want my favor.”

Dragoman issued a fiery sigh. “Then get on my back and we’ll go find a human.”

“And don’t toast that human until we’re sure he’s of no use to us,” Brunhilda said sternly.

“You’re a harsh mistress,” the dragon complained.

“Thank you,” she said, flattered.

They clung to Dragoman’s scaly back. He accelerated, looking for humans to contact. “But you know, humans aren’t necessarily the smartest creatures.”

“Oh?” Hugo asked, annoyed. “Who is smarter?”

“Dragons, for one.”

“Give me one example.”

“Gladly. You know of Clio, the Muse of History?”

“Everyone who is anyone knows of Clio,” Hugo said.

“Would you consider her to be a smart human?”

“Yes.”

“Smarter than a dragon?”

“Yes!”

“Well, she isn’t. She got into a pun fathoming contest with my kind, the dragons, and won.”

“So she was smarter.”

“No. She was too stupid to know she had really lost.”

Both Hugo and Brunhilda paused at this. “Did she win or lose?” Hugo asked after most of a moment.

“She lost, but thought she won.”

“And the dragons didn’t question this?”

“We wanted her to win.”

Hugo paused the rest of the moment, which gave Brunhilda the chance to speak next. “Why have a pun contest if you don’t want to win?”

“That might be complicated for bat brains to fathom.”

“Guano!” she swore. “Tell it.”

“She wanted to take half a slew of dragons from Dragon World to Xanth, where they would become real. Naturally we dragons approved. But we couldn’t simply give them to her; she had to earn them. Dragon protocol, paragraph 62, footnote B, relating to necessary appearances. But then she was losing, so we changed the score, and telepathically altered her mind so she never questioned it. We did it at the Poop Deck pun, to be sure she wouldn’t poke her delicate nose in it. So she thought she won, and she took the dragons to Xanth, and here we are. But we were smarter.”

“Not if you altered her mind,” Hugo protested. “That’s cheating.”

Dragoman’s whole body inflated with fire. “That’s what?”

“A difference of opinion,” Brunhilda said quickly as she kicked Hugo in the wing.

The dragon blew out the fire in a harmless cloud. “So there you are.”

“There we are,” Hugo agreed weakly. Brunhilda was right: it was dangerous to question the integrity of dragons, at least from up close.

“Ah, there’s a human family,” Dragoman said. “Fly down and talk with them, while the bat girl and I discuss romantic plans.”

It occurred to Hugo that Brunhilda might have gotten herself into more than she had bargained for, but he was hardly the one to protest. He took off and glided down, while the dragon flew on.

It was indeed a human family: a somewhat asinine looking man, a somewhat monkey-faced woman, and three children, evidently having a picnic. He landed on the table next to the stack of sandwiches.

“Eeee!” a girl screamed with four e’s. “A club!”

“You mean a bat, Upp,” the larger boy said.

“Get rid of it!” she screamed, retreating so fast she fell over backward.

“Ree Sette, look what you made your sister do,” the mother said severely.

“Well, she is Upp Sette,” Ree said. “That’s her nature.”

“True, Marmie,” the man said. “Don’t blame Ree.”

“Well, he’d better use his talent,” Marmie said. “Ree Sette, undo that scene.”

Ree looked rebellious, but obeyed. He gestured—and suddenly Hugo was back in the air away from the table and the Sette family was going about its picnic undisturbed. The scene had been reset.

But he hadn’t managed to communicate. So he tried again. This time he flew in to land beside the smaller girl, what had not freaked before. Maybe she liked bats.

She did. “Ooo, nice! I’m Sunny Sette, getting pretty in the evening. Who are you?”

Hugo realized belatedly that he lacked a way to talk to humans. He couldn’t speak Human in bat form, and they did not understand bat talk. How could he make them understand?