Air Apparent (28 page)

“I have no fear,” Debra said with half a smile. “Only terror.”

The savage women burst into view. They were naked, shapely, and wild-haired. “Food!” one screamed, spit dripping from her pointed teeth.

“Not today,” Debra said firmly. “We have come to see the Simurgh.”

“Who cares? You’ve got good meat on you.” They crowded closer, salivating.

“We are on a mission relating to men,” Wira said. “We have to catch them so we can deal with them appropriately.”

The maenads milled about. “Are they tasty?” one asked.

“Delicious,” Wira said.

“Bleep.” The maenads moved on. They evidently weren’t supposed to interfere with female hunting missions.

“Delicious?” Debra inquired when they were alone.

“When you have been party to the Adult Conspiracy longer, you will understand.”

They continued up the mountain. Suddenly a monstrous serpent slithered into view. “Morsels!” it said.

Debra’s bow was in her hand, an arrow nocked, the string drawn. She wasn’t aware of taking it; it just happened. She was surprised that she had the strength to hold the taut bowstring. The arrow’s head tracked the serpent’s left eye.

“Oh, come on now, filly,” the Python said. “Do you think you can threaten me with that tiny barb?”

“I have others,” Debra said evenly.

The Python lifted his head high. “I am the nemesis and delight of all women,” he said. “I rouse their desire as nothing else can. After I possess you, I will consume you both.”

The weird thing was, the big snake was doing it. His gaze held Debra in a temporary trance as he talked. She was unable to move.

The Python slid smoothly forward. His jaws gaped, seeming almost wide enough to take in the centaur.

Then he paused. “Shouldn’t you be wearing a bra?”

The curse worked even on the Python? Well, he was male.

“Forget it, snake,” Wira said. “You can’t fascinate me. I can’t see you.”

Startled, the serpent focused on her. “You’re that blind woman,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Coming to see the Simurgh. Now get out of our way.”

“Unlikely.” The gaze flicked back to Debra.

The first arrow was suddenly sticking out of the serpent’s nose, and the second was nocked. “A warning shot,” Debra said. “Next one strikes your eye.”

The Python considered. His forked tongue flicked out, wrapped around the arrow, and yanked it out. Then he slowly backed away. In two and a half moments he was gone.

Debra shakily put the bow away. “You distracted him just long enough,” she said. “How did you break the fascination?”

“I closed my eyes. I really don’t use them to find my way. That was a nice shot.”

“I did loose an arrow!” Debra said, belatedly realizing. “I put it right where I wanted. I would have scored on his eye too. I thought I didn’t know how.”

“It seems the body does provide that talent. Too bad you lost an arrow.”

“It was worth it.”

They moved on up the slope until they came to the cleared summit. There was the biggest, largest, hugest possible tree, with a monstrous bird perched on one of its stout branches. The bird had a head crested with fire, feathers like veils of light and shadow, and wings like mist over a mountain. This was the Simurgh, the Keeper of the Tree of Seeds.

They paused in place, awed by the magnificence of the great bird. Then Wira spoke. “Oh Simurgh, I am—”

I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, GOOD WOMAN. The thought was almost mind-blowingly powerful.

“And this is—”

The bird’s gaze oriented on Debra, as potent as that of the Python, but different. She realized that the bird was plumbing the depths of her mind. A CONSTRUCT FROM THE FACTORY. The eyes blinked with surprise. MADE REAL BY THE DEMON XANTH, AND FALLEN IN LOVE WITH THE ENEMY MAN.

Debra fought to speak, and managed it. “Random is not my enemy!”

There was a freighted pause. NOT ANY MORE, the Simurgh agreed. BUT YOU MAY STILL BE HIS ENEMY.

“I won’t wear a bra!” Debra said.

Wira spoke. “We came to ask—”

MY CHICK NEEDS TO KNOW EVERYTHING. HE IS INDEED MY HEIR APPARENT. THE TOUR OF WORLDS WILL BE GOOD EXPERIENCE. HE WILL JOIN YOU AT CASTLE ROOGNA.

That was it. They found themselves at the base of the mountain without quite remembering how they had gotten there. There was one more person to enlist.

They set off for the Nameless Castle. “Do you think Chlorine will let Nimbus go?” Debra asked.

“I suspect Nimby will. He wants his son to get worldly experience.”

“Worldly,” Debra echoed, appreciating the pun.

They arrived at the Nameless Castle in the early afternoon. Debra landed on the edge of the cloudbank—and there were two children.

“Mother is having half a fit,” Nimbus reported brightly. “But she’s letting me go, provided Ilene comes along too, to babysit.”

“I reminded her I’m only eleven,” the girl said. “But she says I have the illusion of being older. I don’t think I quite understand that.”

“You can make illusions real,” Debra said. “If you had the illusion of greater age, you might make it real, at least for a while.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” the girl said, surprised.

“I was part illusion, until Nimby made me real,” Debra reminded her. “He also made me older. So I appreciate the concept. When you need to be older, maybe you’ll be able to make the pretense, then make it real.”

“That seems far-fetched.”

“Chlorine surely knew. Sometimes things you believe do come true. We just this morning talked with Princess Ida.”

“Oh, yes, she’s very nice.”

“It seems we have our complement,” Wira said. “If you are ready to go—”

“We are,” Nimbus said, reaching up to her. She lifted him up to sit in front of her. Ilene got on behind her. Debra flicked them both light and took off.

“We’re so glad they let you come with us, Nimbus,” Wira said.

“Aw, they just wanted to relax a while.”

“Relax?”

“They can’t talk much when I’m around.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Mom said the Nameless Castle is a palace. Dad said then let’s put wheels on it.”

“Those are metaphors,” Wira said. “She meant that it’s a very fancy castle. He meant that it was time to move it elsewhere.”

“That’s a mixed metaphor!” Debra said. “Wheels on the palace.”

“Yeah. So next thing the castle was rolling almost off the cloud. Dad barely caught it in time.”

“You made it literal,” Wira said. “That’s your talent.”

“To make mixed metaphors real,” Ilene said. “They were pretty upset.”

“I can imagine,” Wira said. “Maybe you had better stifle it while we’re on this mission.”

“Why should I? I want to have fun.”

“Nimbus!” Ilene snapped.

“Aww, okay.”

Debra nodded to herself. The boy knew to mind Ilene.

“Will you tell us what your mission is, this time?” Ilene asked, changing the subject.

Wira explained how they had found and lost their two men. “So now we have to go to the World of Ida,” she concluded. “With the heirs or air apparent.”

“But don’t you have to leave your body behind to go there?” the girl asked.

“Yes, of course. But Princess Ida will see that our bodies are safe.”

“What about the men’s bodies?”

Debra felt Wira stiffen, and Debra did too. “The men—they had to leave their bodies behind,” Debra said.

“In the burning tree,” Wira said.

“But they exchanged with some fancy pennies.”

“If those pennies came from a World of Ida, their bodies couldn’t have gone.”

“That what I wondered,” Ilene said. “I didn’t mean to make trouble.”

“You didn’t,” Wira assured her. “We missed something we should have understood right away. If the men remained mostly in that tree—”

“There must be a confusion,” Debra said quickly. She couldn’t bear the thought of the men’s bodies burning.

“We’ll have to go check that tree,” Wira said grimly.

Debra veered to fly to the tree they had visited in the dream. No more was said; neither of them dared.

They landed near the tree and walked to its site, dread threatening. Dread confirmed: there was nothing but a pile of ashes there.

Ilene dismounted. “Let’s take a walk, Nimbus,” she said.

“But I want to see—” he began, before her warning glare cut him off. “Walk it is,” he agreed.

“That girl does show signs of maturity,” Debra murmured.

“We have to look,” Wira said, contemplating the ashes.

“We have to,” Debra agreed.

They found a nearby fan tree and picked large fans. They waved these, blowing the ashes away. Soon the ground showed, with the scorched cents lying on it.

“Those are talking cents,” Wira said. “I wonder—?”

“Do you have common cents?” Debra asked the coins.

“We’re not common,” a penny replied.

“I can see that. Did you happen to see any—any bodies here?”

“No, but we know where they are. In the beer cellar.”

“Do you mean wine cellar?” Wira asked.

“This was a beerbarrel tree, not a winebarrel tree. It has a beer cellar.”

The woman and centaur exchanged a look of burgeoning hope. “A cellar!” Debra said.

They inspected the ground, and discovered a square panel embedded in the center. It had a heavy ring set in its metal. They hauled on the ring together, and slowly the panel came up. There was a dark hole below, with steps leading down.

“Time for some help,” Wira said. “Ilene! Nimbus! We need the illusion of light here.”

In less than a moment the two were there. “I can’t make illusions,” Ilene said. “They have to exist first.”

“Isn’t my glow an illusion?” Nimbus asked, gazing eagerly into the hole.

“Maybe it is,” Ilene agreed. She focused, and the boy’s faint glow became bright.

“Still, I had better go first,” Wira said. “I don’t need light, and I don’t want to put the children at risk.” She closed her eyes and started down the steps.

“This is fun,” Nimbus said. “Maybe there’s hidden treasure.”

“It seems safe,” Wira called from below.

Nimbus and Ilene went down, his glow illuminating everything. That helped, because Debra was far too large to join them. “What’s down there?” she called.

“Ninety-nine bottles of beer,” Ilene called back.

“And some orange cones,” the boy added. “Dodging around.”

This hardly made sense. “Cones?”

“There are words printed on them,” Ilene said. “Nundrum.”

Debra groaned. “Cone-nundrum. A pun.”

“I found the bodies,” Wira called. “They’re alive!”

Debra was so relieved she sank to her knees. “Thank you, fate,” she breathed.

After some discussion they figured it out. The men had randomly exchanged with the collection of coins, which had been in the cellar with the beer, left over from some game beer drinkers had played. Then they had exchanged again, with the cones, which had come from one of the worlds of Ida. They probably hadn’t realized that they were going to that world; they just hadn’t wanted to be stuck in the cellar of the burning tree. But as it turned out, they were safe there; the massed beer bottles insulated the chamber against the heat, and the cellar was undamaged. The men could have waited, and been rescued by now, had they realized.

“But at least they are safe,” Wira said. “I think we should just leave their bodies here until we catch up to their souls and somehow bring them back. However, we should take the little cones, as an indication of where the men went.”

Debra agreed. They exited the cellar, closed its door, and carefully piled the ashes back over it so that no one would know the cellar existed. Then they set off for Castle Roogna, greatly encouraged.

“I just thought,” Debra said. “Do we have more of that communal dream potion?”

“Yes, I packed a vial. But we’ll have to be cautious about using it, as we may not be able to return for more when that runs out.”

Fray Cloud and Sim Bird were already at the castle, being entertained by the three princesses. Then the group of six of them went up to see Princess Ida.

“Cones,” Ida said. “The fourth world is Cone; that might be where they came from.”

“The fourth world?” Debra asked.

“There is what seems to be an endless chain of worlds,” Ida explained. “The first is Ptero, where time is geography.”

“Geography?” Debra asked.

“Folk age as they go west, and youthen as they go east, so they can be any age they want, but they can’t travel beyond their assigned lifespans. They call it To and From.”

“Couldn’t they travel to the north or south pole and return on another meridian, without suffering aging or youthening?”

Ida considered, surprised. “I suppose they could. That might greatly increase their freedom to travel.”

“But we aren’t going there,” Wira said.

“Yes,” Ida agreed. “On the word of Ptero is another Princess Ida, with another world orbiting her head. That is Pyramid, with four triangular faces, blue, red, green, and gray. On the blue face is another Ida, with a donut-shaped world orbiting her head. That is Torus. The Ida on that world has a cone-shaped world orbiting her head. That is Cone, where I think these cones came from. Is that correct, cones?”

The two cones dodged back and forth as if avoiding a speeding object. That was their confirmation.

“I hope my sense of direction works once we’re on that world,” Debra said. “Because even a very small world is a very big place.”

“I hope so too,” Ida said. Debra realized that the princess could no longer make her conjectures come true, because now she knew Ida’s talent.

“If it works on Xanth, shouldn’t it work on Cone?” Fray asked.

“Yes, it should,” Ida agreed. “In fact, I’m sure it does.”

Because Fray, only nine years old, didn’t know about Ida’s talent. Debra breathed a silent sigh of relief. The child was already proving her usefulness.

“You will have to leave your bodies here,” Ida said. “But your souls will condense to form similar bodies with similar abilities. Cone is the fourth derivative, extremely small, but it will seem full size to you. I hope you are able to persuade your men to return.”

“How do we return?” Debra asked.

“You merely release your bodies, which are made of soul stuff. Your souls will puff into full size and return here, and to your sleeping bodies. The men should be able to do the same.”