Air Apparent (36 page)

“There was a Demon contest millennia ago,” Gaia said with her wash-of-ocean-surf-at-dusk voice. “It was wrongly decided. In order to correct that wrong, three requirements obtained. First, the break in the loop had to be repaired. That has been accomplished. Second, the relevant Demon had to be invoked. That has been accomplished. Third, the issue had to be decided by an ignorant mortal.” She gazed intently at Fray with her storm-swirl eyes. “You.”

“Me? But I’m just a little condensed cloud! I don’t know anything.”

“Precisely,” Gaia agreed with her summer-zephyr voice.

“You are the air apparent,” Xanth explained. “You were fated to make this decision concerning the heir apparent.”

“How can I decide anything when I know nothing?”

“You will ask the Demons for information,” the first-refreshing-chill-of-fall voice answered. “We alone will answer you; the other mortals are mere spectators.”

Fray looked around. The others were standing there as if posed for a picture, aware but expressionless. She realized that they were in suspenders animation, or whatever. It was all up to her, whatever it was.

She tried to focus her air head, but there was nothing significant inside. “Why me?” she asked stupidly. “I mean, I know I’m ignorant, but so are lots of folk.”

“Because you invoked me,” Gaia replied with her school-wonderfully-closed-because-of-winter-snow voice. “Without knowing the significance.”

That did seem to make sense. “What do I have to decide?”

“Which Demon possesses Earth. The heir apparent.”

“Isn’t that Demon Earth?”

“No. He is an impostor,” the first-new-flower-of-spring voice said. “Earth is mine.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Originally the world of Earth was mine,” Gaia’s sheer-joy-of-existence voice said. “All creatures existed in their natural states in imperfect harmony. Then the usurper Demon came and challenged me to a contest game for my world. I won, but he pretended he had won, and tried to assume the name and likeness of Earth. This led to a fissioning of the world into two aspects, Earth and Moondania, with the latter between Earth and Xanth. This has had complications.”

A bulb flashed over Fray’s head. “Like the way Xanth seems to overlay Mundania!” she exclaimed. “So that folk can cross over without going through Princess Ida. The Waves and all.”

“True,” Gaia said with her sunrise-over-the-massive-gray-mountain voice. “I suspect those intrusions annoy the Demon Xanth.”

“Actually they make it interesting,” Xanth said. “I married a mortal descendant of one of those Waves, and you already know our son.” He glanced at Nimbus, who glowed brightly for half an instant. “But dealing with Demon Earth has been a nuisance.”

“What’s your side of it?” Fray asked Demon Earth. She was becoming bolder as she accepted that she really did have to learn enough to make a decision that could change everything, or at least make a difference.

“I contested for her planet, and won, but she refused to vacate, so I got only part of it. Moondania.”

“Shouldn’t that be Mundania?” Fray asked.

“Mortals mispronounce it, just as they do the day Moon-day. Call it what you want. It is only an aspect of a world that should be mine entirely. All you need to do to abolish this schism is agree that I am the proper heir.”

“When did this—this schism—happen?”

“About ten thousand years ago.”

Fray almost wet her shoes. “I thought it was recent!”

“It was,” Earth agreed.

She realized that to the eternal Demons, ten thousand years was like yesterday. So all of the history of Xanth had occurred during this schism. But then she thought of something else. “But Princess Ida got her moon only a dozen years ago.”

This time Demon Xanth answered. “The schism caused the loss of a moon-connection or two, so that there was none on Moondania or Xanth. But the loop of worlds always existed. It was merely the local ones that were isolated. Then Ida got the idea of a moon, and the connection came to her. Now her image handles all the moons as connections to the adjacent worlds. When she passes from the scene, there will come another gatekeeper to handle the links. With the restoration of the connection between Moondania and Xanth, the loop is again complete. Which means it is time to settle the issue.”

It seemed to make sense, sort of. “What was the contest?” she asked Gaia. “The one that was supposed to decide who got the world of Earth?”

The Demoness smiled with her cloud head, and there was a flare of glorious brilliance. “We have mentioned it. It was the proper pronunciation of Moondania. We listened to the mortals, and the first one said Moondania.”

“The first one said Mundania,” Demon Earth said.

“You each heard it differently!” Fray said.

“Well, it was in a different language, ten thousand years ago,” Earth said. “But the pronunciation was quite clear.”

“Yes it was,” Gaia said with her surging-surf-by-a-lovely-beach-resort voice. “Moondania.”

And Fray had to decide which pronunciation they had actually heard? Her head was filled mostly with air, but even she knew that this was serious mischief. Apart from the dubious merits of the case, what would happen to the world of Xanth if she favored Earth? Or Gaia? Their little traveling group had problems enough, without ruining a world or two as well. How could she risk bringing disaster on them all?

She remembered something that adults had been known to do when faced with conflicting purposes. “Can’t you compromise?”

“Compromise?” Demon Earth asked, frowning. “Demons don’t compromise.”

“It is unDemonocratic,” Gaia agreed with her divine-music-of-the-spheres voice.

Which was the challenge. Each Demon was so powerful that reality was whatever he or she decided it was. Only when two Demons collided was there a problem, as in this case. How could she possibly mediate between them, when favoring either one might ruin everything?

She looked at her traveling friends, but they could not advise her. They had to let her make a mess of this on her own. Any one of them would have been better qualified to do this. Sim would know, certainly. The adults could make responsible guesses. Ilene was a sensible girl. Even Nimbus knew the Demons and might have a notion what would work. Only Fray was completely ignorant and inexperienced. Yet on her the dread decision fell.

She struggled to find a real solution, but no bulb flashed. She remained on her own. No Demon spoke; all were simply watching her, awaiting her nonsense.

Well, disaster it might be. But she would do what she had to do, the only way she knew how. Maybe it was the worst thing possible, but there was nothing else. She took a breath of air—in compacted form she had to do that—and nerved herself for doom. Or whatever.

“You said I have to make the decision. Well, I say you should compromise, even if you don’t know how or don’t like it. You should merge Moondania and Earth and share the unified world.”

“The designated mortal has spoken,” Xanth said.

“Share?” Earth asked querulously. “I do not know this word.” Yet obviously he did, and hated it.

“It is a strange one,” Gaia agreed with her exhilarating-summer-storm voice. But there was a hint of lightning in it.

“And get together yourselves,” Fray continued doggedly. Or maybe it was catty; she wasn’t sure. “Like boyfriend and girlfriend. So you don’t mind sharing.”

“Demons don’t do that sort of thing,” Earth said. The ground rumbled around him.

“But we can if we choose,” Demon Xanth said. “I did. It can be rewarding on its own terms. What about that mortal girl who animated Demoness Fornax?”

“That’s different.”

Fray was amazed. Demon Xanth was helping her! Well, he must want to get this matter settled too, so there would be no further trouble at the border.

“She’s never going to return your interest,” Xanth said. “She has a mortal boyfriend. But Demoness Gaia could be everything you might desire. If she chose.” He glanced meaningfully at her.

Gaia bared her teeth in defiance. Then she reconsidered. She had evidently thought of something. What could that be?

“Why should I ever want to get together with that cheating female thing?” Earth demanded. “What could she ever have for me? I am the heir apparent.”

Demoness Gaia’s cloud head turned human with lustrous features and hair. Her limbs became perfectly formed human arms and legs. She radiated beauty. “Like this?” her sheer-unadulterated-love-elixir voice asked.

Fray realized that the Demoness now considered it a challenge.

Demon Earth looked. He scowled. “That doesn’t interest me.”

Gaia’s dress turned translucent, showing the scintillating outlines of well-mounted bra and panties. Fray was glad she was female, because otherwise she would have been in danger of freaking out. “No?” her essence-of-sex-appeal voice asked.

Earth’s eyes began to heat. “No.”

The underwear filled out more fully, quivering in key places. “No?” her passion-incarnate voice asked again.

“No.” But his eyeballs were squeaking as their lubrication congealed. Fray saw the watching two men, the boy, and even the bird disappearing into freakout mode. Only Demon Xanth had the sense to conjure a very dark pair of spectacles to protect his eyes.

Wisps of steam rose from the hot items. All the pervasive power of nature animated them, and they could not be denied. “So you would rather not compromise, no?” her steamy-irresistible-force voice asked.

“No!” he said as his eyeballs baked.

“Then it seems we have agreed to the mortal’s decision,” Demon Xanth said. “The double negative cancels out. He says no but he means yes. You are the heir apparent, Gaia.”

“I am,” the rainbow-hued voice agreed. Gaia beckoned, and Earth went to her, overpowered. As he did so, there was a hidden but extremely powerful impact, as of two worlds colliding and merging. Moondania and Earth, Fray knew. The compromise had been achieved.

Gaia’s cloud-head appeared before Fray. “How may I repay this favor?” her soft-as-night-dreams voice inquired.

Fray thought fast. “Put the Random Factor back the way he was, in his own body, and douse the curse. You don’t need him any more.”

“That is three favors,” the chill-of-a-frozen-day voice said coldly. “To revert his talent, restore him to his own body, and abate the Factory curse. I proffer only one.”

“Oops, I’m sorry.” She was messing up. Evidently the soulless Demons kept very precise accounts. What single thing could she ask for that would really help?

Then she got a notion. It wasn’t enough to light a bulb, but it would have to do. The curse oriented on the Factor’s body when it did a transfer, so if he didn’t transfer any more, maybe the curse would not apply. Maybe. That would cover two things in one.

The Demons waited silently. They had the patience of eons.

“Fix the Factor’s talent. Undo your change.”

The cloud faded. So did the Demons Gaia and Earth. Only the Demon Xanth remained.

Fray was left facing the other members of the party. “I think it’s okay now,” she said hesitantly. “I tried to fix it so the curse wouldn’t matter.”

“You succeeded,” the Demon Xanth said. “The curse is now unable to orient, and will dissipate.”

“But we’re still in the wrong bodies,” the Factor said.

“I’m sorry,” Fray said unhappily. “I just couldn’t figure out how to do it all.” She tried to stifle a tear, which was this compacted body’s version of rain, but it leaked out anyway.

The Demon Xanth was staring at her. Had she done something else wrong?

Nimbus turned to the Demon. “Daddy, don’t let her be sad. Tears make me nervous. She doesn’t want anything for herself.”

“Son, you owe your existence to a selfless tear. It makes me think of your mother.” The Demon glanced again at Fray, then at Hugo and the Factor. Then he faded out.

Hugo looked surprised. “I’m back in my own body!”

“So am I!” the Factor said. “But there’s something else I need to verify.” He turned to Debra. “Where’s your bra?”

She brought it out and handed it to him. He took it, and did not suffer any consequence. The curse was gone. The wings of his hat fluttered as he flew up to kiss her face.

“I can hardly wait to wrap things up here and get back to my own body too,” Debra said. “Bra and all.”

“Let’s all get home,” Wira said, glancing fondly at Hugo. They were old folk, but Fray realized that wasn’t slowing them down much.

They organized for flight. Wira mounted Debra, with Nimbus next, and Fray last as they were all lightened. The party took off.

“You’re okay,” Nimbus said as she put her arms around him from behind to hold him in place.

“Thank you.”

“For a girl.”

“Thank you,” she repeated, understanding his inability to be fully serious. That would surely change in the next decade or so. So she was a cloud and he was the son of the Demon Xanth; stranger relationships had happened.

“That was real smart, showing Daddy that tear. He had to do what you wanted, then. Mommy saved him when she shed a tear for him.”

There didn’t seem to be much point in confessing that she had had no such smart design in mind. “Thank you.”

“Air apparent,” he said. “That sort of matches heir apparent, doesn’t it?”

“They do seem to mesh,” she said. “Air and heir.”

“Heir and air. Hair!”

“Hair,” she agreed, smiling tolerantly. They had a vaguely definite future understanding.

As they rose high into the sky, something was odd. After a generous moment Fray realized what it was: she could see the gradual curvature of the world below them. It was in the shape of a peninsula with a chasm halfway down it. The seeming overlay with the world of Earth or Mundania was gone. Now the only connection would be via the moons of Ida. There would be no more Waves of invasion. That was fine with her.

Soon she would be home, and happily floating over the landscape in her natural cloud form. She was after all a creature of the air. Apparent or not.

This is the thirty-first Xanth novel in the series, or the fourth in the second magic trilogy of three cubed = twenty-seven novels. It may be awhile before we see a complete trilogy of magic trilogies. Meanwhile the individual novels can be read in any order, though they are chronological; each is its own story.