Five Portraits (31 page)

“That would be nice,” Astrid subvocalized.

“I wonder,” Metria said as her clothing dissolved leaving only a bright-purple bra and panties on the verge of bursting asunder. Mitch, Ease, and Art froze in place, caught by surprise and freaked out. The women wore expressions of thinly masked disgust, though they were used to it.

“She's testing him,” Fornax said. “She considers it a challenge.”

“No, it's true,” Jon said. “I don't freak.” He was nevertheless taking a good look. “You're a demoness, aren't you. They tend to have matchless measurements.”

“I meant about the spiritual being,” Metria said as the stitching on her bra began to give way. “She could have been a demoness, like me, masquerading as an angel, the better to tease you.” Now the panties were starting to tear, exposing a generous buttock.

“Nice touch, the seams giving way,” Fornax said. “Considering that they're all demon stuff anyway.”

“About the what?” Jon asked, his eyes orienting on the buttock.

“The angel,” Astrid snapped before the usual exchange could get fairly started.

“Oh.” Jon pondered half a moment. “Would a demoness have deliberately rendered any man immune to the weapon of the freakout?”

“Bleep no!” Metria swore. “It's fun to freak men.” Her straining bra and panties developed polka dots with no material in the dots, one of her favorite ploys.

“Lovely,” Fornax said.

But Jon still did not freak out. “Are you by chance single?” he inquired.

“Ha! She is scoring,” Fornax said.

“I'm long since married,” Metria said. “However my alter ego Mentia isn't. But she's a little crazy. She'd probably do anything you wanted.” She shifted, becoming a different person, but no less endowed.

“Oh yes, she's setting up a possible relationship for her alter ego,” Fornax said. “Clever.”

“But unscrupulous,” Astrid murmured. “Considering it is Merge he is supposed to be checking out.”

“It's not working. Now cover it up, lady canine,” Kandy said tersely. “We want our men functional.” She evidently hadn't picked up on the change of personalities.

Mentia glanced at her. “Am I missing something?”

“Metria was trying to tease an immune man,” Astrid said. “Put her back in charge.”

“As you prefer,” Mentia said. She glanced at Jon. “Some other time, perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, intrigued, as she faded.

“Oh, all right,” Metria grumped as her clothing reappeared. It was as if she were unaware of the intervening dialogue with Mentia.

“Show's over,” Fornax said, fading out.

Kandy snapped her fingers, and the three men woke. “What do you wonder, Metria?” Mitch inquired. “I fear I suffered a moment of inattention.”

Win laughed. “She flashed you, daddy.”

“She wondered whether Jon encountered an angel or a demoness, dear,” Tiara said. “We concluded that it was indeed an angel.”

“But how did she cure you?” Squid asked. “All she did was kiss you and hug you.” The children had not freaked out; bodily displays were the stuff of boredom to them.

The adults did not comment. It seemed there had been an ellipsis in the narrative that left the children confused. The Adult Conspiracy was ever-diligent.

“When an angel does it, that's all that's needed,” Jon said.

“So you still appreciate the charms of women,” Merge said. “You just aren't freaked out by them.”

“Exactly.” Jon eyed her. “I find your charms quite satisfactory.”

“And what of my ability to fragment?”

“I admit that the thought of being hugged and kissed by five young women like you does not dismay me.”

“So you in your objectivity see me as a suitable marriage prospect?”

“I do. Are you interested?”

“Is this adult-speak for mushy?” Santo asked.

“Very much so,” Metria assured him.

“I am interested,” Merge said. “But there is a condition.”

“Let's have it.”

“We must adopt a child.”

Jon frowned. “I was thinking of the conventional signaling of the stork. Repeatedly. Does the stork not respond to your call?”

Merge colored faintly. “I wouldn't know. I've never tried a signal.”

“Then why do you think you need to adopt a child?”

“Because the child needs to be adopted. I like her, and she likes me, and we want to make a family. But it would help to have a man in the picture.”

“I see. So you are not abruptly smitten with me, so much as needing a man to complete your prospective family.”

Astrid winced. Jon's supreme objectivity was showing.

“That's approximately it,” Merge agreed. “It's the converse of your interest in signaling the stork, regardless of the woman involved.” She shot a brief irritated glance at Metria.

Jon nodded. “That is sensible. Who is the child?”

“I am,” Myst said, smiling sweetly.

“Well, you're a cute one,” Jon said.

“Thank you.”

“How are you for discipline?”

“For what?”

“Power, control, obedience, no back talk, parent's word is law,” Metria said.

“Spanking?” Myst asked, bridling.

“Whatever,” the demoness said crossly.

“Yes, when necessary,” Jon said. “Can't have a child running wild.”

“No spanking,” Myst said.

“That is not for you to decide.”

“Yes it is.”

Jon's eyes narrowed. “So you are an undisciplined child?”

“You bet. No one—”

She was interrupted by the swoop of his hand. He caught her about the waist, lifted her, turned her over, and put her across his knee. He spanked her.

And his hand passed through her to bang his own knee. Myst floated free, a cloud of mist.

Jon nodded. “Undisciplined,” he concluded.

“I don't like you,” Myst said, making a pooping noise.

“The feeling is mutual.” Jon turned to Merge. “Adopting a child, maybe. Adopting this one, no. She would be nothing but trouble.”

“But this is the one I want,” Merge said.

“Then it seems you have a choice: me or the child.”

Merge hardly considered. “The child.”

“Then that's it.” Jon got up and walked away.

Astrid winced again. Could there be such a thing as too much objectivity?

Metria shifted forms again. Her child ego, Woe Betide, appeared. “Well, I guess you showed
him
,” she said.

But now Myst was contrite. “I'm sorry, Aunt Merge. If you really want to marry him, I'll—I'll let him spank me.”

“Absolutely not,” Merge said. “I don't believe in that form of discipline.”

“He did seem a bit too oriented on control,” Kandy said. “His way or the highway. Maybe it's because panties don't soften him. His immunity makes him unmanageable.”

“Like me,” Myst said.

“He didn't like you being like him!” Merge said, amazed.

“It would have gotten worse,” Metria said seriously. “If he's making demands during the courtship, he'll be a tyrant in the marriage.”

“But now I can't make a family,” Merge said tearfully.

“There are other men,” Astrid said. “You just need to find the right one.”

“I suppose,” Merge agreed uncertainly. “But I fear they may be all alike in this respect.”

“Not me,” Mitch said.

“But you're not available.”

“It must be time to get back to work,” Mitch said, not arguing that case. Tiara's dawning glare might have had something to do with it.

Metria shifted back into Mentia. “I'm just crazy enough to be intrigued,” she said. “I have no children.” She puffed into smoke and dissipated, evidently going after Jon.

They got back to work, collectively sobered. That continued for several days, as they searched out remnants of the virus and eliminated them.

Meanwhile Astrid pondered: three of the five children had found prospective adoptive parents, and a fourth was in the offing—if only Merge could find a man to marry. But one thing they were not finding any sign of was such a man. It was as though men didn't exist in this region of Xanth.

One afternoon Firenze was working alongside Astrid. “Is it all right if I call you Mom?” he asked hesitantly. “I know you haven't married Uncle Art yet, and you haven't adopted me, but it feels odd to keep calling you Aunt Astrid.”

“Cal me that, son,” she said. “We know it will happen. We're just holding up until the others can join us for the five portraits.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He seemed relieved. “I'm worried about Myst. And Santo.”

“Metria has expressed an interest in Santo. She admires his talent.”

He hesitated. “I don't want to insult anyone.”

“What's on your mind?”

“Metria's pretty flighty. She changes her mind all the time. And she already has a half-demon child.”

“More than one,” Astrid agreed. “You're thinking of Demon Ted. He's nineteen now.”

“Yes. She doesn't mention him or bring him around. I don't think she's much interested in children.”

“You think she might renege?”

“Yes. And that she wouldn't be a very good mother anyway. Not for a boy like Santo.”

Astrid stopped working and faced him. “What are you saying?”

He backed off immediately. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“There's something.”

“Mom, he told me in confidence. I can't tell.”

“But it's enough to make him not right for Metria?”

“Yes,” he said miserably.

“Well, I think it will be their decision. We should simply hope for the best.”

“I guess.”

She let it drop. But she wondered.

Fornax appeared. “He has a point. Santo is special.”

“He's not a bad boy!”

“No one said that. But Metria may indeed have a problem.”

Astrid knew better than to push for more information than the Demoness felt free to provide. “Meanwhile we have not yet placed Myst.”

“There is a divide in the way ahead. I regard the right way as more scenic.”

“But the left looks like a better prospect for pools of virus.”

“So it does,” Fornax agreed, and faded.

When they came to the divide, Firenze went right. He had of course overheard the Demoness, and understood. There was a reason for this route.

There was a young man walking the other way. He looked a bit confused. “Are you okay?” Firenze asked him.

“I don't know,” the man replied. “There was this car accident, then blankness, then—where am I?”

“You're Mundane!” Firenze said.

“I don't understand.”

“From Mundania,” Astrid said. “Never mind. This is Xanth.”

“Zanth?”

“Xanth. A magic land. You will need some guidance.”

“I will help,” Fornax said, appearing as an ordinary woman. “This way, Kribbitz.”

The man halted in place. “You just appeared out of nowhere. And you know my nickname. I didn't even tell you my name.”

“Your name is Chris Kehler,” Fornax said. “Here in Xanth we know things. Walk with me and I'll explain.”

Plainly bemused, Chris walked with her. Astrid knew she would set him straight about how to get along in Xanth. The Demoness had intervened so that Astrid would not have to be diverted from her course. What was so important about it? It was strictly routine terrain.

They came across a girl about Firenze's age playing in sand. She was making surprisingly intricate figures out of the sand. “Hi,” Firenze said. “I'm Firenze, and this is—is—”

“His mother,” Astrid said. “Astrid. We're delousing the pun virus.”

“I'm Sand,” the girl said. “Sand D. I'm good with sand. Mom's a sand witch.”

A pun, of course. “So the pun virus is not here,” Astrid said.

“Not here,” Sand said. “It would have been awful. But it wouldn't have wiped out Mom. She's not a pun. She conjures sand.”

Both Astrid and Firenze laughed. “Good thing you explained,” Firenze said. “Your dad must have been set straight early on about that.”

“I have no dad.”

“No dad?” he asked blankly.

“I'm adopted.”

Astrid was beginning to see why this route had been suggested. The girl was cute, and Firenze was obviously interested.

“So am I!” he said. “Or about to be. But—”

“Mom adopted me. She conjures sand, and I'm good with sand, and since I was an orphan, well, she took me in.”

“She could adopt you without a dad? I thought that was against the rule.”

“What rule?” Sand asked challengingly.

Astrid exchanged a look with Firenze. Was there a rule?

Now it was quite clear why Fornax had obliquely recommended this route. Here was a possible answer to Merge's dilemma. Single parent adoption!

“We don't know of any such rule,” Astrid said. “But I have a friend whom I think would like to talk to your mother.”

Sand frowned. “If your friend is going to criticize—”

“No, not at all! It's that she may be interested in adopting a little girl herself, and would like reassurance.”

The girl smiled, relieved. “That's different. I'm sure Mom will talk with her. Mom's very opinionated about the subject.”

“I will fetch my friend,” Astrid said. “Um, Firenze—”

“I'll wait here,” he said, glancing at Sand, who smiled shyly. They were ten years old, but it was not too young to begin appreciating the opposite gender.

Astrid hurried back the way they had come. Fornax appeared beside her. “I took the Mundane to Kandy, who will help him get oriented. I believe Merge will be interested in what the Witch has to say.”

“Yes. It's odd that we never thought of single-parent adoption.”