Stork Naked (5 page)

“But it's in another reality.”

“They will doubtless get there,” Stifle said. “Stay with them until they are satisfied.”

“I'm not sure about this,” Surprise said. “How can we go there if the fissure closed?”

“The storks have access to all realities,” Che said. “I believe it is a particular spell they do not share with others. They even have access to parts of Mundania, to deliver to conservative families.”

“Then why hasn't the Simurgh gone to the Stork Works in that reality to return herself?”

“That remains a mystery I mean to solve.” Che looked around. “But first we need to obtain the Mask.”

“Mask?”

“The Reality Mask. It sifts and sorts realities according to parameters we can select, so that we can reduce the number of Xanths to check. With Stymy Stork along, we should be able to zero in on the right one fairly efficiently, then go to where he delivered your baby.” He paused. “However, it may not be easy to obtain the Mask.”

“Nothing is ever easy,” Surprise muttered. “Let's get on it. Where is the Mask?”

“A fiery nymph has charge of it, on Lion Mountain. It is a fair flight there from here.”

“Then by all means get started.” She looked at Stymy. “Follow us, wherever we may go.”

Stymy nodded glumly.

The children mounted the centaurs, who spread their wings and took off. The peeve and Stymy followed.

As they achieved cruising altitude, Surprise tried to befriend the stork flying beside her, knowing that they would be dependent on him to locate her baby. “I realize that you were just doing your job as you saw it,” she said carefully. “I can see that the Stork Authority is very strict. Do you care to tell us how you got put on probation?”

“It's no secret,” Stymy said glumly. “I am cursed by bad luck, whether I'm working the Gold Coast, the Silver Coast, the Copper Coast, or the extinct Ivory Coast. I do the best I can, but things go wrong.”

“I know the feeling,” Surprise said sympathetically. She really did feel it, now that she was coming to know the stork. He had evidently been around, but was obviously very low in the stork hierarchy.

“First I flew through an invisible forget whorl that wasn't on the chart. I suffered only a glancing blow, but it was enough to lose the baby's name. I delivered the little girl safely, but she never knew her name until she grew up and quested for it. I got a reprimand for that, but I don't see how anyone could have known that whorl was there.”

“Forget whorls are always mischief,” Che said, flying close enough to join the dialogue.

“And there was the time a boy kissed a girl so ardently it half-summoned the stork. I got struck by the signal, and almost put in the order before realizing that it was incomplete. That was a close call.”

“Just how are stork signals handled?” Che asked. He glanced back at the children, who were listening intently. “I don't mean how the signals are made, but once they are on their way. There must be a great deal of information encoded in those three dots of the ellipsis.”

“There is,” Stymy agreed. “One dot identifies the parents, their species, ages, state of marriage, and such; you'd be surprised how some try to send illicit signals when they don't qualify.”

“Not necessarily,” Surprise said grimly. “Remember, I was balked on an age error.”

“Yes. Some thirteen-year-old girls—well, never mind. The second dot describes the baby in general terms: species, gender, appearance, potential, preference. The third dot powers the connection, locating the nearest stork and identifying the spot where the signal was made, which serves as a reference for delivery. It is all very efficient.”

“Efficient?” Surprise repeated. “A nine-month delay is efficient?”

“It takes forever to catch up on the paperwork. Even so, there can be problems. Once the address dot was incomplete and I had to leave the baby in the flowers.”

“You left a baby by itself?” Surprise asked, shocked.

“I had no choice. The parents met at a love spring, had a brief but intense session, then separated and never returned. Nine months later I brought little Azalea to the designated coordinates, but had no information where either parent had gone. I couldn't take her back to the Stork Works; they have a no-return policy. There was nothing to do but leave her in the flowers and hope for the best. As it turned out, local flower fairies discovered her and raised her. She had a talent of conversing with flowers. That was fifteen years ago; as far as I know, she's fine. I check on her every so often, just to be sure.”

“I should hope so,” Surprise said severely. “I thought it was bad when I was delivered five years late, but to leave a baby like that—” She broke off, lest she say something unkind. She was not an unkind person.

“Then I ran afoul of the stork-eating monster,” Stymy continued. “I had to make a wide detour around it, and that made me late delivering. In fact there was a backlog, and another black mark.”

“Don't they do something about that sort of thing?” Surprise asked. “Or at least post warning signs?”

“No, it's up to the individual storks to find safe routes. The authorities are not sympathetic about excuses. They say deliveries must be made on schedule and that's that.” He glanced warily at her. “That's why I had to find another couple for your baby, in a hurry. Another black mark would put me in the soup.”

“Stork soup!” the peeve said, and all three children giggled. But Surprise noticed that Stymy did not seem half a whit amused. Instead he shuddered.

“That's literal,” Che said, catching on.

“His goose is cooked,” the peeve said, and there was another chorus of giggles. “Maybe someone should drop an F-Bomb on him.”

“What's an F-Bomb?” Ted asked.

“When it explodes, it makes everyone in the vicinity explode with proFanity.”

That set off the children again. They loved the concept, even though they knew no proFane words.

Che's bow appeared in his hands, a wickedly long arrow nocked. “I wonder if I can still score on a distant flying bird?” he murmured musingly. “If an obnoxious one should happen to appear in my vicinity.”

The peeve's beak snapped shut. So, curiously, did the mouths of the children.

Surprise changed the subject. “Perhaps you can answer something I have wondered about. We know that some talents attach to the souls, and some to the bodies. Is there a reason for that?”

“Not a good one,” Stymy said. “The delivery storks are supposed to pick up the assigned talents at the same time as the babies, and fasten the talents securely to the souls. Usually the talents are already anchored, but when they aren't, then the storks have to patch them up. But some are lazy and hook them to the bodies instead. They get away with it because it generally goes unnoticed, and it saves them time on the deliveries.”

“It's a wonder you remain in a largely thankless job,” Che said.

“Oh, it's a good job,” Stymy said. “I love babies, and it is wonderful to see how happy their families are to have them. It's just the stork authorities that are a pain in the tail feathers. Sometimes I wish I could transfer to Mundania.”

“Mundania!” Surprise said, appalled. “But there's no magic there.”

“Not much that's recognizable,” the stork agreed. “They do have rainbows, mirages, and things called cars that cause it to rain when they are washed. But some Mundane families still prefer to have their babies delivered the old fashioned way, storked, as Che noted, instead of the messy newfangled inconvenient do-it-all-yourself fad that others attempt. So there is business, and I understand that there are stork nests in cathedrals in Iberia, Mundania. I would like to operate out of a cathedral. That would have a lot of class.”

“Perhaps you will, some day,” Surprise said. “That might be for the best.” She was satisfied to let the dialogue lapse.

“We are approaching Lion Mountain,” Che announced. “Now it may become problematical.”

Surprise did not like the sound of this. “Don't we just need to approach the fiery nymph you mentioned?”

“We do, but the problem is the mountain. It doesn't necessarily appreciate visitors.”

“Can't we simply fly over it until we come to the nymph's residence?”

“Hardly. It would snap us out of the air and consume us in a fraction of one bite.”

“Lion Mountain,” she said carefully. “Would that be literal?”

“It would be,” he agreed. “Depending on its mood. If it is Lion Mountain, we should be able to pass. But if it is Mountain Lion, we would be foolish to risk it.”

“How do we know which mood it is in?”

“By whether it snaps us up, or doesn't.”

Was he being difficult? “I may be mistaken,” she said even more carefully, “but I am not at all certain I care to gamble on its mood.”

“I thought you might feel that way. So we'll have to land and see if we can walk up it without its noticing.”

“Why wouldn't it notice?”

“Well, an animal generally doesn't notice fleas until they bite, and we should try to avoid biting it.”

“We walk,” she agreed, relieved. Her centaur form could readily do that as well as fly.

“There is something you may not know about Lion Mountain,” Stymy said. “I have not made deliveries here, so can't be sure, but I have heard a rumor that it may be dangerous in other ways than leonine.”

“What ways?” Che inquired.

“I don't know, but my source was credible.”

“A credible nonspecific rumor?”

“Yes.” The stork seemed unconscious of any irony, perhaps because there were no ironwood trees growing nearby.

“So how do you propose we investigate this rumor?” Che asked. It occurred to Surprise that his patience might be thinning, though that was just an impression.

“We should land and inquire of a local resident. My stork sense tells me that one of my clients is in this vicinity.” He paused, startled. “In fact it is Azalea, the girl I told you about.”

“A fifteen-year-old flower fairy?” Surprise asked dubiously.

“She is not a fairy. She was raised by the fairies, but she is physically human.”

“And she would know of this vague rumor of danger?”

“She might. Her talent is conversing with flowers, and flowers can know special things. At any rate, she is a responsible creature, though I'm not sure what she would be doing in a place like this.”

“Smelling flowers,” Surprise muttered. She thought she was inaudible, until she heard the children tittering.

The stork guided them to a landing place beside, sure enough, a field of flowers. A startled nymph with flower-colored hair gazed at them as they landed, ready to flee.

“Azalea!” the stork called.

“Stymy!” she responded gladly. “I haven't seen you in two years.”

So this was Azalea, not a nymph but a girl with a nymphly shape. Some girls could manage that when they were young enough.

“I have been busy getting into trouble,” he said. “As usual. Now maybe you can help my associates.”

Azalea flounced her hair, and a few petals wafted out. “Flying centaurs can fly and think much better than I can. Are they looking for some special flower?”

Che approached her as the children jumped off and frolicked among the flowers of the field. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Che Centaur, on an urgent mission for the Simurgh. We need to see Pyra up on the mountain, but fear nebulous danger. Do you know anything of this?”

Azalea gazed up at him appraisingly, and Surprise realized that Che was in fact a handsome stallion. Nymphs noticed such things. “What does that hothead have that I don't?” she demanded, inhaling. It seemed that the girl did not regard age or species as much of a barrier. Some of them knew more of the Adult Conspiracy than they were supposed to, and heedlessly exploited its dangerous aspects.

“The Reality Mask.”

The nymphly bosom deflated. “Oh, that. Well, I have bad news for you. You can't readily get there.”

“Because of the supposed danger?”

“That depends how you see it. The mountain is surrounded by love springs. Just being near that lake of elixir gives a girl wild notions.”

That explained the girl's attitude, Surprise thought.

“That's it!” Stymy said. “I remember now. That forget whorl must have faded it. You have to wade or swim through love water.”

This did indeed give Che pause. “This is standard love elixir? Male loves nearest female, and vice versa?”

“Yes,” Azalea said. “I have seen creatures there. I couldn't make out exactly what they were doing, but always male and female. It's not safe to touch or drink that water unless you have someone you want to be very friendly with.” She smiled a trifle sadly. “I wish I had someone to be friendly with.”

“Not at your age,” Che said.

“Of course,” Azalea agreed reluctantly.

“We can't take the children through that,” Surprise said.

“We can't take ourselves through it,” Che said. “Not without compromising our situations.”

“Actually, you look like a nice centaur couple,” Azalea said. “You might make it through if you kept wading, betweentimes.”

“That is out of the question,” Surprise snapped. “We are not a couple.”

Azalea shrugged. “Too bad.”

“Then I am afraid we shall have to fly across after all,” Che said with regret.

“No!” Surprise was horrified. “The risk is too great.”

“We must be practical. We can't complete our mission without the Mask, and even then it may be a considerable challenge. Unless we want to give up now, we shall have to take a risk.”

Surprise cudgeled her reluctant mind. “Suppose I revert to my natural form, thus recovering my ability to do other magic? I could ride your back as you fly across, and fend off any threats.”

“The Mountain Lion strikes too rapidly and massively to resist unless you are savagely prepared,” Che said. “We would still be severely risking our lives by flying.”

“Then I could ride you as you wade across, and try to counter the elixir.”

“A whole lake full of it? Unless you achieve quite strong immunity for both of us, that too is a considerable risk.”

Surprise knew it was. Their choice of risks seemed to be between death and illicit love. She made an uncomfortable decision. “I think Umlaut would understand. Would Cynthia?” Cynthia Centaur was Che's mate.

“Yes. She is very rational, of course.”

“I think that once clear of the lake and free of contact with any of its elixir, I could make a spell to nullify its effect. Does this seem to be a reasonable compromise?”

“Yes, more rational than emotional. But it does not account for the children.”

“I can babysit them,” Azalea said. “I'm old enough for that. Maybe we can make a deal.”

“No wading,” Che said.

She laughed. “I didn't mean that. I am traveling, seeking my fortune. I want to visit strange places and see weird things, if I can safely discover them. Then when I come of age I'll bring some nice young man here and take a swim, and settle down with him.”

“You are asking to accompany us?” Che asked.

“Yes. You are going on a great dangerous adventure; I can tell. I'll be safer traveling with you than by myself, especially with Uncle Stymy along. Already I have encountered males who—well, I don't know what they wanted, but I was pretty sure it would have violated the Adult Conspiracy.”

“It would have,” the stork agreed grimly.

Che remained dubious. “I am not at all sure you would be safer with us than on your own.”

“But I'll surely see weirder things with you than on my own. That counts.”

“You surely will,” he agreed. “But you may also be risking your welfare or even your life. We are going where few if any Xanthians have gone before.”

Azalea clapped her hands with nymphly glee. “Wonderful!”

Che looked at Surprise. “We do need separate care for the children, if we face what we fear we face.” But she could see that he was looking for an excuse to turn down the girl. He probably had not been thrilled to have to travel with Surprise, and a younger girl would be that much more trouble. She agreed, so it seemed it was up to her to nix the notion.

“We do,” Surprise agreed emphatically, thinking as fast as she could manage on short notice. “But the last thing we need along is an adventurous girl. Let's make some other deal.”

“She is correct,” Che told Azalea. “Is there any other exchange we might fairly make?”

Azalea frowned. “I see I must be more candid. I have another reason to travel. I have a twin sister, Lotus, who talks to water flowers, just as I talk to land flowers. She disappeared a month ago, and I fear for her welfare and want to find her.”

“You have a twin?” Stymy asked, astonished. “How could I not know this?”

Azalea seemed very faintly amused. “You delivered a single bundle. I guess you didn't open it.”

“I didn't,” the stork agreed. “But when I checked on it another day, you were all I saw.”

“I guess Lotus was napping at that moment. So you thought there was only me, and didn't notice her. It really didn't matter; the flower fairies took good care of us both, and helped us to develop our talents.”

The stork shook his head. “I fouled up more than I thought.”

Azalea returned her attention to Che and Surprise. “Since I have no idea where she is, I must travel widely, hoping for the best. All I know is that she was in this region, because I found one of her lotus petals, and then must have gone somewhere else, as there's no sign of her here now.”

That put a different face on it. Surprise felt guilty. “Maybe we could help you find her. Using what we get from Pyra.”

“That might be feasible,” Che agreed.

“It's a deal,” Azalea said quickly.

Surprise was relieved. “You and Stymy remain here with the children until we return, which we hope won't be long. Then we'll do our best to locate your sister.”

“Great,” Azalea said. “I miss her so much.” She looked across the field of flowers at the children. “Kids! Get out of those poppies.”

“Poppies!” Surprise exclaimed. “Aren't they the kind that—?”

“Yes, but the effect isn't very strong,” Azalea said. “I told the poppies to turn it down.”

Surprise decided not to question that further. The girl's talent was useful. “Then let's go.” She kept her centaur form, as it was easier to keep his pace.

“What about me?” the peeve demanded peevishly.

Che smiled. “Now if we thought of it, we might say that we don't want a loud-beaked bird accompanying us and insulting the mountain lion and causing it to become dangerously aware of our intrusion. But since we lack the wit to think of that, we'll just say that there may be need to divert some stray monster that threatens the children, and we know of only one creature capable of insulting a monster to death. So for the good of the children, and incidentally the chance to have verbally at some really thin-skinned monster, we believe you should remain here.”

The peeve considered. “You are dangerously smart, centaur.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn't a compliment!”

“And my suggestion wasn't a compliment either.”

The peeve was plainly disgruntled, but shut up. It did recognize when it was overmatched.

Without further ado they forged into the marsh that bordered the lake. By mutual consent they moved as rapidly as was feasible, to get beyond the sight of the children before the water had much effect.

Surprise felt that effect almost immediately. She became acutely aware of the stallion beside her, handsome, very smart, and age twenty-one. Meanwhile she was reasonably fetching, having selected a good centaur shape, but not remotely in his intellectual league. That made a difference.

“How are you holding up?” he inquired without looking at her.

“I am quite aware of you, and my admiration is intense, but I believe we have no future together, regardless of the effect on other people we associate with.”

“How so?”

“There is a good deal more to a relationship than reproduction. Practical considerations make that awkward. I prefer an intellectual appreciation, to the extent that is feasible.” She realized that she was talking like a centaur. Well, she was one, for now.

“How is it of limited feasibility?”

Why was he questioning her like this? “I am not nearly as smart as you are. For example, I could never have handled the pet peeve the way you did. Therefore I have little to offer you, regardless of what you may offer me. I recognize that.”

“You are thinking like a centaur.”

“I am trying to, yes.”

“There is something you may not have fully appreciated about centaurs. We are rational rather than emotional. We do have emotions, but they are separate from and subservient to our higher intellects. We lack the attitudes about modesty and sexuality that human beings possess. We honor significant aspects of the Adult Conspiracy when in the presence of humans so as not to embarrass them unduly, but they are largely meaningless in centaur society.”

“I am not sure I understand your thrust.” Then she wished she had not used that particular word.

“We are capable of loving without attempting to reproduce. You have just expressed a centaur attitude.”

“You are saying that we may be knee-deep in love elixir, but we don't have to react like—animals or humans?”

“I was concerned that you, as a transformed human being, would retain your human attitudes. Instead you have adopted the centaur mind-set. That makes the centaur approach feasible.”

“Centaurs are proof against the love elixir!” she exclaimed, amazed.

“By no means. It has caused me to love you. Fortunately this does not require me to do anything with you that would embarrass you at such time as you return to your human form.”

“But I'm not—in fact I am stupid compared to you.”

“That is an unfortunate human concept. Each species possesses the mind it requires to function optimally. Humans are less rational and more emotional than centaurs, but have their points. You have phenomenal magic together with courage, common sense, and compassion. I love those things in you, literally. I know this is the immediate effect of the elixir, but it would have occurred in the course of our association regardless. You are worthy as a person.”