Roc And A Hard Place (9 page)

This broke King Gromden's heart.  He banished the Queen and lived alone thereafter, with only a maid to tend to the castle.  He searched constantly for his daughter, hoping somehow to get around the curse.  But she, being half demoness, readily eluded him, though she loved him.  Until, years later, she found love in an entirely different story, died, became a ghost, and was revived about four hundred years later to rejoin her lover.  Meanwhile poor King Gromden slowly declined into death, and Castle Roogna was deserted.

All because of the wicked demoness.

The reenactment ended.  “And I still want nothing to do with you.  Mother,” Threnody concluded.  “You destroyed my beloved father with the crudest of lies, and I can never forgive that.”

Jordan was startled.  “Metria is your mother?  You never told me.”

“Of course I didn't,” Threnody said, angry tears in her eyes.  “I'm ashamed of half my parentage.  That half.” She glared at Mentia, trying to get to Metria.

'See?' Metria said.  'It's hopeless.  She will always hate me.’

“Now we shall have the other view,” Mentia said firmly.

“Back to square one.”

“Do we have to?” Threnody grumped through her angry tears.

“Yes.  We made a deal for both views.  We shall have them.”

The scene formed again:  King Gromden marching down the road, the cloaked and hooded demoness meeting him.

The dialogue played out as before, except that the demoness began to be genuinely impressed with the King's manner and goodness of heart.  She lacked soul or conscience, yet was curious about the latter, so what had originally been incidental mischief became something else.  She saw how lonely the King was beneath his contented exterior, and resolved to give him some reward for it:  one night of the kind of joy only a demoness or a really devoted beautiful woman could give a man.  She thought he deserved at least that much.

On the following day he visited her again, so she gave him delight again, for she still respected and liked him, as much as a demoness could.  So it continued for some time, in perfect privacy.  She was glad at last to have brought joy into his somewhat sterile life.  Of course, in time he caught on to her nature, but by then it didn't matter, because he found such delight in her.  When, on rare occasion, some mischance threatened to expose their liaisons, she quickly and quietly vanished away, so that there could be no evidence, returning to him only when it was safe.  Thus no other person learned of their affair.

But she made one mistake.  She forgot about the stork.

Normally a demoness prevented the signal from getting out to find the stork, but she was so taken with the nice King that she never even noticed the escaping signal.  When she realized, it was too late.  Well, she thought, she would just have to find a suitable home for the baby when it came, because a demoness was no fit mother for a human baby.

For one thing, the baby would probably have a soul, while she didn't.

When the stork actually brought a beautiful baby girl, the demoness was so taken with her that she almost decided to keep her after all.  But she knew that would be folly, and she didn't want her daughter to suffer the neglect that was bound to occur in the company of a demoness.  So she did the next best thing:  She brought the child to her father the King.

She did this, of course, in decent privacy, so as to avoid embarrassing him.  “0 King, here is your darling daughter,” she informed him, presenting him with the bundle.  “I wish I could keep her myself, but I can't, so I trust you to treat her well and give her all the things a precious child needs.'“

Gromden was amazed.  In the typical manner of men, he had assumed that he had gone through the motions but that the summons would not reach the stork.  But one look at the baby captivated him, and he was glad to accept her and recognize her as his own.  “She will be my heir,” he said, “for I have no children.” This was fond illusion, because only a Magician could be King of Xanth.  But her magic talent was as yet unknown, so there was always the chance that she would be a Sorceress.  Of course, the kingship was traditionally limited to men, for archaic obsolete reasons, and those were the hardest reasons to refute.  And she was half demoness, which would complicate her eligibility further.  But Gromden postponed those concerns until later, and meanwhile doted on his daughter.

“I think I must not visit you anymore,” the demoness said to the King.  “For demons are known to be bad influences on children, and your daughter must have only the best influences.”

Sadly, the King agreed.  So they kissed once more and parted.  The demoness lacked true human feelings, but a few of them had rubbed off on her during her association with the King, and so it would be fair to say she emulated a feeling or two in that time.  She would have liked to continue with the King, and did visit her daughter a number of times, taking care never to make her presence known.  Thus she was aware of what was going on in Castle Roogna, though she did not interfere.

Gromden named his daughter Threnody, because soon her talent of sad singing showed.  He provided every possible thing for her, including tutoring, playmates, and every kind of pastry and pie.  She had a nursemaid to look after her.  But he could not provide her with a mother, the Queen took an interest.  She was, of course, resentful of the presence of the child, because the child was evidence of the King's infidelity.  The Queen had no interest in that I sort of relationship with the King, but it was embarrassing to have it generally known that he had found a relationship elsewhere.  But for a time she masked her enmity, and Gromden, assuming that others had the same generosity of spirit that he did, did not realize how bitter she was. The Queen took a hand in educating the child.  “The first thing you must understand,” she told little Threnody, “is the foulness of your origin.  Your father was cruelly seduced by a hideous demoness who somehow made him think she was beautiful.  Then she embarrassed him in public by bringing you, so that everyone would know his folly.” And the child believed it.  “But don't speak of this to your father,” the Queen continued, “for he has already suffered more than enough, and it would hurt him to be reminded of it.” So the child was careful never to reveal what she had learned to Gromden.

But as the years passed.  Threnody showed distinct signs of becoming beautiful.  Indeed, she was the juvenile image of the form her mother had assumed to seduce the King.

Gromden, of course, treated her exactly the way a father should treat a daughter, not quite realizing the significance of her image.  But the Queen couldn't stand it.  So finally she acted.  She put a terrible curse on the child, forcing her to depart the castle forever.  When the King discovered this, he banished the Queen also.  But the damage was done.

The vision ended.  Gromden reverted to Jordan, the Queen reverted to Threnody, and the beautiful child reverted to little Woe Betide, who then became Mentia.

Threnody seemed shaken.  “I remember now.  The Queen did tell me that!  And I never questioned it.  Of course, she had a bad motive.  Still, it was wrong of you to seduce the King.  My presence did weaken his image.  I was his curse.”

“No you weren't,” Jordan protested.  “You were the delight of his later life.  His life was empty, until you filled it.” He, having just emulated the role of King Gromden, was in a position to know.  “The demoness did him a real favor. It was the jealous Queen who made the mischief.”

Threnody, having emulated the Queen, now understood that.  But the belief of four centuries did not dissipate readily.

“I'll have to think about this.”

“Now I will show you out of the madness, and depart,” Mentia said.

'But she hasn't taken the token!' Metria protested.

'Stifle it, better half.  Soft sell does it.’ The demoness led the way out of the madness.  During her pauses in the vision, mainly while the Queen was poisoning the mind of the child, she had scouted around and found the best route.  “The only obstacle here is the peer pressure,” she said.  “You simply have to resist it.”

Jordan looked around.  “A pier?  But there's no water.”

Then the pressure began.  They were squeezed from either side by invisible ramps.  “Not pier.  Peer,” Mentia clarified.

“The things of madness are peering at us, trying to make us go their way.  They want us to be as mad as they are.  They can't touch us physically, but they can peer so hard that it feels solid.” She tapped the solid seeming invisible shape beside her, and it made a dull wooden sound.  “Just ignore it.”

“But it's squeezing the breath from me!” Jordan gasped.

“Peer pressure can be very strong,” Mentia agreed.  She wasn't suffering, because she had made herself too gaseous for the pressure to affect very much, and Threnody was more slowly doing the same.  Threnody could change forms in the manner of a demoness, being a crossbreed, but this took time, so she was under more pressure.  “Just say no,” Mentia advised them.

“No!”

“No!”

With that the pressure eased, because peering was difficult when the objects of its cynosure didn't cooperate.  They we're able to pull themselves on through.

They stepped out of the madness and back into regular Xanth.  “I'll know better than to go there again,” Threnody said, relieved.

“I don't know,” Jordan said.  “I sort of liked being a King, and making out with that—”

Threnody drew her knife and, with one swift deft motion, cut off his tongue.  That silenced him for a while, because though his talent was rapid healing, it took time to grow his tongue back to full size.  Things had returned to normal.

Well, it is time for me to depart,” Mentia said, pausing artfully.

“Um, wait,” Threnody said.  “I'm not saying that I forgive you for the dastardly thing you did, but aren't you going to try to make me accept that summons?”

'Yes!' Metria said silently.

“No, that wasn't part of the deal,” Mentia said.

“But it's crazy not to pursue your advantage, when I'm wavering.”

“Thank you.  I am a little crazy.  I'm sure that mysterious trial will be able to proceed without your surely significant participation.” The demoness made as if to puff into smoke.

“Maybe—some other deal?” Threnody asked.

“I suppose, if you think that's fair.  You know what I want, is there something you really want?”

“Yes.  What I most desire is to be able to return to Castle Roogna, where I was happy once, without it falling.  To walk through the familiar old rooms, and meet the people who are there now.” A tear formed at one eye or the other.  “To remember how it was with my father.  To view him on the Tapestry.”

That last was ironic, because as a child Threnody could have viewed recent and current events on the Tapestry, and learned the truth about her mother.  But she had been so sure she already knew it that she had never done so.

“Very well,” Mentia said briskly.  “I shall see about abating that curse.  I shall return.” She popped off.

'What are you doing?' Metria asked as they appeared back at their home castle.  'How can we abate a four-hundred-yearold curse?  That was a crazy deal to make!’

'Thank you.  Maybe there is a way.’

’What way?’

'I don't feel free to tell you.’

'What?  I'm your better half.  I can get it directly from your crazy mind.’

'Then it wouldn't work.’ Metria, baffled, backed off.  She had never been able to conceal anything from Mentia, but Mentia could hide things from her whenever she wanted to.  Metria had been grudgingly impressed by her worser half's handling of the madness and Threnody.  Maybe Mentia actually did know how to lift the curse.

'Yes.  Now you must take over the body, and do what I tell you.  Don't question me, just do it.’ Bemused, Metria took over.

'So what do you want me to do?’

'Stoke up your husband for another day's worth, then check for the least familiar name in your bag of tokens.’ So Metria did both.

'Here's one I don't recognize at all:

‘Pheira.  She's a Witness.’

'Serve her summons next.’

'But she could be way off in some hidden hinterland, and take more time to locate than any number of regular folk.’

'Good.  Do it.’ Metria sighed and held up Pheira's token.  It tugged in the general direction of central Xanth.  She popped across the terrain in that direction, appearing in the deepest jungle north of Lake Ogre-Chobee.  She lifted the token again, and its tug was stronger.  She popped off for a shorter hop in its direction, and landed near a house beside a wooded mountain.

The token tugged toward the house.

So she went to knock on the door.  In a moment it opened.

A young woman of undistinguished features stood there.

“But I didn't summon you,” she said, surprised.

“Should you have?” Metria asked, similarly surprised.

Who was summoning whom?

“My talent is to summon animals to help me,” the woman explained.  “But it doesn't work on demons.”

“I came here on my own to summon you,” Metria said.

“If you are Pheira.” She held up the token.

“Summon me?  What for?”

“For the trial of Roxanne Roc.”

“Sorry, I don't summon birds, just animals.  Anyway, she's already busy.”

“Nevertheless, she is to be tried within a fortnight.  Can you get to the Nameless Castle in time?”

“I don't think so.  It's not the easiest castle to reach.”

'Take her to Castle Roogna first,' Mentia suggested.

“There are some folk going there from Castle Roogna,” Metria said.  “Suppose I guide you there, and you can go to the trial with them?”

“That would be nice,” Pheira said.  “I've never been to Castle Roogna, and would like to see it.  If you are sure they won't mind.”

“I can take you to Princess Ida.  She's very nice, and—”

'Don't tell her talent!’

“—will surely see that you are comfortable,” Metria finished smoothly.  What was her worser half up to?

“Then let's go,” Pheira agreed brightly, accepting the token.  “I'll summon a large animal to transport us.”

“Oh, I don't need—”

'Ride with her.’

“But it does sound like fun,” Metria concluded.

Pheira stepped outside and whistled.  In a moment there was a heavy clopping sound, and a really weird creature appeared.  It looked like an enormous furry comb, with the teeth serving as many little legs, and the head of a cat.  It came to the house and stopped, looking at Pheira expectantly.

“What kind of animal is this?” Metria inquired.  She thought she had seen just about everything, but this was new to her.

“A catacomb, of course,” Pheira said.  She caught hold of the tail and climbed up to the top, where the ridge-back widened so that she could bestride it comfortably.

“Of course,” the demoness agreed, joining her.  “How ignorant of me not to recognize it immediately.”

“Take us to Castle Roogna, Comb,” Pheira said, and the creature obligingly started walking.  It moved surprisingly swiftly, getting through tangles of vegetation without difficulty, leaving no snarls behind.  It combed through the forest with smooth strokes.

'Tell her there used to be a curse on Castle Roogna,' Mentia said.

'But there is still a—’

'Just do it.’ So Metria did it.  “You know, one of the other folk I have to summon had a problem.  She was under a curse that Castle Roogna would fall if she ever entered it.  So she never would come to the castle.”

“But it's okay now?” Pheira asked, concerned.

“Well… “

'Don't deny it!’

'But it's not true!’

'How do you know that?’ Metria hesitated.  She had always accepted the validity of the curse.  She understood that Threnody had once approached Castle Roogna, and that it had started to fall.  But that had been some time ago, and it was possible that the situation had changed.  Maybe that was what Mentia was gambling on.

“How long do curses last?” Pheira asked.  “I thought they didn't last longer than the life of the one who makes them. Is the cursor still alive?”

“No.  She died some time back.”

“That must be a relief to your friend,” Pheira said.  “Now she can visit Castle Roogna.”

“Maybe so,” Metria agreed dubiously.  Why should Mentia care what Pheira thought?

The catacomb made excellent time, perhaps because of its many springy legs, and soon they hove into view of Castle Roogna.  They dismounted, and the catacomb trotted off, glad to get a chance to comb through new territory.

'Now introduce her to Ida,' Mentia said.

They passed the moat monster, who rose up to challenge the unfamiliar person.  “Oh, take it easy.  Soufflé,” Metria said.  “This is Pheira, on my summons list.”

“Oooo, hherrr,” the monster agreed in an I-knew-that tone, and submerged.

Ida came forward to meet them, her little moon glinting as it caught a beam of sunlight, and Metria performed another introduction and explanation.  “Why, of course you can come to the Nameless Castle with us,” Ida agreed.  “We can ride the two gargoyles up there.”

“Gargoyles can fly well?” Pheira asked, surprised, for she had seen how solid the creatures were, and how small their wings were.

“I'm sure they can, for this very special trip,” Ida said. “We'll get a flying centaur to make us and them light enough.”

And if Ida believed it was so, it was so, Metria knew, for her talent was the Idea.

Pheira looked around.  “This is such a nice castle.  I'm glad the curse is off it.”

“The curse?” Ida asked, and her moon seemed perplexed too, going to half-phase.

“The one that prevented Threnody from coming here,” Metria explained.

“Oh, that curse is gone?” Ida asked “How nice!  Now Threnody can visit.”

Suddenly Metria grasped the crazy logic of her crazy worser self.  Pheira didn't know Ida's talent, and Ida didn't know that Pheira had no true source of information.  Now Ida believed that the curse was gone—so it was gone, because what Ida believed was true.  As long as the source of her Idea was from someone who didn't know her magic.  This was such a devious, demented ploy that no one else would believe it, so Metria didn't try to explain it.  “Yes,” she said.

“I will bring her here now.”

She left Ida to show Pheira to her room in the castle, and popped back to where she had left Threnody.  It didn't take long to locate her, though it was now evening, because Threnody was no longer trying to avoid her.

Jordan's tongue had grown mostly back, though he spoke with a lisp.  Threnody was constantly cutting him; it was her way of showing him affection.  Metria was sure Threnody had other ways to show him affection, when she chose; she was after all, half demoness.  But he was a barbarian, so he related well to tough love.

“I think we have nullified that curse,” Metria said.  “I think you can visit Castle Roogna now.”

Threnody gazed at her.  “I am not sure I believe you.”

“I'm not quite sure I believe it myself,” Metria confessed.

“Let's go there and see.”

“It will take several days to get there afoot,” Threnody pointed out.

And Metria couldn't afford that time.  She still had a dozen and a half tokens to serve.

“Maybe a centaur,” Jordan lisped.

That gave Metria a notion.  She had two winged centaurs on her list.  They were too young to carry such burdens, but if the grown ones helped—

“I'll be back,” she said, and popped off to the centaurs’ stall.

This was a comfortable house in a glade north of the Gap Chasm.  The centaur family was at supper:  a winged stallion, a winged mare, and a winged filly.  Their huge wings were folded, resembling capes across their bodies.  “I would ask you to join us,” Chex Centaur said.  She was a fine fullfigured creature.  “But I know you don't eat, Metria.”

“Why are you here?” Cheiron Centaur asked directly.  He was an impressive centaur, in both his human and equine portions.

“I have summonses for Che and Cynthia.”

“Summonses!”

Metria explained the situation.

“Gee,” Cynthia said.  She was a filly of about ten, not quite verging onto maredom.  “I get to serve on a Jury!”

“Che is not here,” Chex said.  “He is with Chief Gwenny Goblin, at Goblin Mountain.  He is her Companion.”

Metria already knew about the Companion bit, but had the wit not to say so.  “I'll go there soon, to serve him his summons.  But meanwhile, there is something else.  I wonder if I could prevail on you for a favor.”

Chex smiled.  “Your soul becomes you, Metria.  You are so polite, now.  What do you wish?”

“I think we may have abated Threnody's curse, so that Castle Roogna won't fall if she goes there.  I need to get her there soon, to see if that's true.  If it is, she will accept the summons I have for her.  But it will take her and Jordan Barbarian several days to get there by foot.  So I was wondering—“ Cheiron laughed.  “Of course we'll take them there!  I'd love to see if that curse is really gone.” He looked at Chex.

“In the morning.”

“In the morning, when it's light,” Chex agreed.  “We'll deliver Cynthia there at the same time.”

“Thank you.” Metria give them directions for Jordan and Threnody's location, though she expected to be there to guide them anyway.  Then she popped over to Goblin Mountain to serve Che his token, and tell him where his family was going.

Goblin Mountain looked like a giant anthill.  But a pretty one, because the goblins had become aesthetic since Gwenny became their first female Chief.  There were flower beds on the terraces, and the guards were garbed in pastel colors.

She landed in front of the main entrance.  “Halt, Demoness,” the guard said.  He glanced around to see if anyone else was within earshot.  “And if you know what's good for you, you'll get your smoky posterior elsewhere fast.  We don't need your kind here.”

“Too bad, snootface,” Mentia replied evenly.  “I'm here to see the Chief's Companion.”

“That piece of horsemeat's overdue for the pot,” the guard muttered.  “In fact, the Chief should be dunked right in there with him.  She's ruining the tribe.”

“I'll tell her you said so,” Metria said sweetly.  “What's your name, big-mouth?”

Suddenly the guard was surprisingly shy.  “Never mind. Go on in.”

Metria smiled.  Goblin men were the dregs of Xanth, mean of spirit and foul of mouth.  They hated the notion of having a woman as Chief.  But they were stuck with it, and as a result Goblin Mountain and the surrounding territory were prospering.  Instead of being a core of outrage, the goblin enclave had become a center of justice and prosperity.

Soon she located Gwenny Goblin, who was at her supper in the main dining hall.  Che Centaur was beside her.  Metria knew what few others did:  Gwenny was slightly lame of ankle and slightly weak of vision—faults that would get her promptly executed if the male goblins ever learned of them.

But special contact lenses not only corrected her vision, they enabled her to see dreams, giving her an uncanny insight into plots against her.  And her Companion enabled her to conceal any physical or mental lapse.  Because Che was a centaur, albeit a young one, his advice was always excellent, and the Chief always heeded it.  They were an admirable team.

“Why, hello, Demoness Metria,” Che said, spying her.

He was careful to introduce any newcomers aloud, so that Gwenny was never embarrassed by missing them.

Gwenny looked quickly up.  She was a nice and lovely dark young woman, as most goblin girls were, in contrast to the crude and ugly goblin men.  One day she would marry, and make some goblin man undeservedly happy.  But so far she had been way too busy reorganizing the goblin property and hierarchy to concern herself with anything like that.  She was eighteen; she had a little time yet to worry about her social life.  “So nice to see you, Metria,” she said.  “To what do we owe the pleasure of this appearance?”