The Dastard (34 page)

“Will you stop wasting my time with this nonsense? Once my sisters have to exchange back, I'll be free, and you can't stop it.”

“Melody, what can I do to persuade you?”

“You can help me to pass the time interestingly. Open your eyes.” She still held her dress up.

Becka knew that if he did open his eyes, he would be lost, because her panties would freak him out. Their mere proximity had already weathered his face somewhat, turning it faintly green in emulation of the panties. But Becka couldn't interfere; the princesses had made it clear that this was strictly between Melody and the Dastard. Becka's role was only to prevent Melody from leaving physically. So she had to watch the disaster unfolding.

“If I open my eyes, will you open your ears?” The Dastard asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You want me to see your body, knowing that it will freak me out. I want you to see my point, trusting that it will persuade you to do the right thing. I will look if you will listen and try to understand.”

Melody shrugged. “Okay, jerk,” she said insincerely.

Becka wanted to cry out to him not to do it. But she had to stifle her voice, and hold back a tear.

He opened his eyes. They saw her panties. They turned green and began to glaze over. He was definitely freaking out. Becka hated to watch.

“Come here,” Melody said smugly.

He came to her. He could not do otherwise. She had mesmerized him.

She put her arms around him. “Now we shall take off our clothes,” she said.

But she had brought him too close. He could no longer see her panties. The glaze chipped off his eyeballs and his gaze cleared. “Now you must listen,” he said. “You agreed to.”

“I lied. Take off my clothes.”

It was obvious that though he was no longer freaked out, his contact with the princess put him in her power. He began to remove her blouse. But as he did, he spoke. “What you are experiencing is the onset of a life without values. You have a hunger that is not really for food, a longing that is not really for power, a desire that is not really for the stork. You can try to oblige these cravings, but they will never satisfy you. Your appetites can be indulged endlessly but will never be sated. The more you struggle to fulfill them, the less happy you will become, until at last you are left with only the misery of your own emptiness.”

“That sounds like a curse,” Melody said. “I spit on it. Now take off my skirt.”

He had to do her bidding. Becka wished she could go and put the princess's clothing back on, but she had to stay clear no matter what happened. “It is a curse--the worst possible one,” the Dastard said. “The curse of meaninglessness.”

Melody seemed shaken by the notion of a curse. She had evidently experienced just enough of it to have some doubt. “So you say that if I do with you what I am about to, it won't make me happy?”

“Did depriving Repulsive of her Answer make you happy?”

Now she stood without clothing. “No. It wasn't enough. But if I can make bigger mischief--”

“It can never be enough, Melody! I know; I have done endless mischief, and never found peace.”

“So how do you say I can find peace?”

“Take back your soul!”

Melody laughed. “Nice try, fool. I know better. Very well, stand still while I take off your clothing.”

He stood still. “Maybe a compromise. If you took it back for just a minute, to see if it does what I promise--”

She paused with his shirt off. “For just a minute? That might be interesting. But it's a trap: I can unhappen the Random Factor only once. I can't unhappen an unhappening. You know that. So I'd be stuck with it.”

Becka marveled at the neatness of the trap. But the princess hadn't fallen for it.

“There may be another way,” the Dastard said. “Hold me close. Then the soul I bear will overlap your body, and you should be able to get the feeling of it. It is after all your soul. If you don't like it, you don't have to take it.”

Melody considered as she got his trousers off. Becka had to avert her gaze; she couldn't afford to see a naked man. “Okay, I have to get pretty close to you anyway, to signal the stork. I'll try to tune in to my soul for a moment. But I want a deal.”

“A deal?”

“You didn't think I'd do what you want for nothing, did you? I want to get you off my case. If I don't like the soul, you and my sisters will have to let me go. Immediately.”

Becka's heart skipped half a beat. Melody was putting everything on the line! If they agreed to that, she could win, and they would lose. All Xanth would lose. He couldn't agree to any such condition.

“I agree,” the Dastard said.

Oh, no!

“That's not enough. My sisters have more magic.” She looked around. “Show yourselves, Sisters dear. Agree.”

There was a pause. Then Harmony slid out of limbo for a moment. “I agree,” she said reluctantly.

Rhythm appeared. “I agree too.”

Then both were gone, still guarding limbo. Had they all gone crazy? They were handing victory to the one without a conscience.

Melody looked at Becka. “And you, dragon girl. And the others. You all have souls, so will be bound by your word. You all must agree.”

Amazingly, Sim squawked agreement. Repulsive spoke. “I agree.”

They had to know something Becka didn't. What could she do? “I agree,” Becka said, turning back to face them. Fortunately the man was facing away from her.

“This will last only as long as it takes us to summon the stork,” Melody said. “I will overlap my soul, and then be gone.”

Both of them were naked. The princess stepped into the man, wrapping her arms around him, flattening her body against his. She kissed him, hard. There was a faint shimmer as they turned in place.

Then she pulled her head back. “Oh my gosh! I feel it. Not a lot, just a little. It's like a distant lovely melody. Like the sun coming out faintly after a storm. It's calling me. I miss it. I want it. I must have it back.” She paused, then came to her decision. “I'm going to take it back!”

“Unhappen the Random Factor,” the Dastard said. “I'll help.” Becka could view his face now, and was amazed to see a tear on his cheek. He knew what he was losing. Everything: soul, woman, life.

Then suddenly the two of them were standing fully clothed. The tears were on Melody's cheeks, but she was lovely in a way she had not been a moment before. “Oh, that was horrible!” she cried. “How could I have been that way?”

“$$$$!” the Dastard swore. “We didn't finish with the stork!”

Melody looked at him. “I suppose I do owe you that. You gave me back my soul.” She started to remove her blouse.

“No!” Becka cried. “Don't do it!”

Melody looked at her. “Becka, I have my conscience back. This man has given up the most valuable possible thing for my sake. I must give him something before he dies.”

Becka realized that the other two princesses remained in limbo, guarding it so that the Dastard could not escape that way. She and Sim were supposed to see that he did not flee physically. He had to remain here until the poison killed him, This unhappening had been quite selective: The soul had changed, but not the poison. But this was awful. “No! I'm supposed to help him, not kill him. There has to be another way.”

“Sure,” the Dastard said. “Let me go.”

Then a bulb flashed over Becka's head. “There is another way! The demon--the one who traded for his soul. Maybe the demon will trade back.”

Melody stared at her, brightening. “That would do it.”

“I don't want to trade back,” the Dastard said.

Melody stepped into him and put her arms around him, so close that her soul overlapped him. “I'll hold him here,” she called to the others. “Find the demon! Bring him here.”

Sim squawked: “You can't just fetch a demon. You have to summon it by name.”

“What's the demon's name?” Melody asked the Dastard.

“I'll never tell!”

Melody squeezed closer to him. She nuzzled his ear with her sweet lips. “What's the name?” she breathed.

He tried to resist, but there was something about her proximity that weakened him. Maybe it was her soul, overlapping him, reminding him what once had been. “Demon Test,” he muttered.

“On our way,” Harmony's voice called from limbo.

Becka saw that Repulsive was gone. She realized that since the exchange of souls had been unhappened, Melody had never had the Dastard's talent, so had not fled to Castle Roogna and stolen Repulsive's Question and Answer. Repulsive should have had her interview with the Good Magician by now, and been happy, never knowing what else had happened.

But the primary participants remained: the Dastard, the three princesses, Sim, and Becka herself. It seemed that an unhappening affected the primaries very little. So somehow they had carried through much as before, and were still here as a group. She didn't understand all the intricacies of it, but it was the way it had been with other unhappenings.

Melody still held the Dastard. “Soon you will have your soul back,” she said.

The man struggled, but obviously felt the soul, and it made him weak. “The joy of you,” he breathed. “I gave you up. I can never have you again. You are not my soul. Now I must die.”

He was embracing Melody but speaking to the soul!

“Maybe not,” Melody said, kissing him. “I have seen what you can be, when you are souled. You sacrificed yourself for me. You were manly and decent and lovable. I didn't care then, but now I remember, and now I do care. I believe I could love you. Take back your own soul, and come to Ptero with me.”

Becka stared, understanding. Melody's memory of the Dastard with a soul, and of his sacrifice, was bringing her the love that had seemed impossible. The googolly had been matched.

“You would do that?” he asked, amazed. “When you don't have to?”

“I may not be as smart as you are,” Melody told him. “But I'm not stupid. You can be a good man. And will be, when I marry you and share my soul with you. Again.”

A demon appeared. “Who summons me?” he demanded.

Melody did not let go of the Dastard. “Will you trade back with him, D. Test?” she asked. “Take back the talent of unhappening?”

“Sure I will,” Test said. “It was a bad deal for me. His soul is dingy and worn, while the talent is great.”

“Then do it,” Melody said.

“He has to agree,” Test said. “Otherwise it won't work. And of course he won't. Why would anyone give up such a talent?”

“Tell him you agree,” Melody said to the Dastard.

But she wasn't holding him closely, and so the soul no longer overlapped him. “I don't a--”

She kissed him again. “We can do a lot of this, when you are souled,” she murmured. “We can play Faun & Nymph, on Ptero, without end.”

He still tried to defy her, but she kept kissing him, and little hearts formed around their heads. Becka doubted that any man in Xanth, with or without a soul, could resist such persuasion for very long. “I agree!” he gasped at last.

Test threw something at him, and caught something in return. Then he vanished.

Harmony and Rhythm appeared. “You may have lost your talent, but we still have ours, as part of our magic,” Harmony said.

“We can slide into limbo,” Rhythm agreed. “And unhappen things, now that we have learned how. But we're not going to, except for some good purpose.”

The Dastard stood still. “My name is Anomy,” he said. “But I have to tell you, my soul isn't in a class with yours. It's not nearly as nice. And my natural talent is that of having stupid ideas; it's not in a class with yours either. I'm nobody.”

“On Ptero we need very little soul,” Melody said, finally letting him go. “Because our world is so small. I'm sure yours will do.”

“But you have every good reason to hate me.”

“You're right: That is a stupid idea.”

He seemed to be at a loss. “How so?”

Melody smiled. “Must I explain it again?”

“Maybe you must. I just can't seem to believe that a princess would really want to be with a nothing man like me.”

“When you had my soul, you did everything you could to give it back, though you wanted to keep it. You sacrificed yourself for me. That gave me reason to love you, though I didn't appreciate it until I got my soul back. Come to Ptero with me, and be what you can be.”

The hearts circling his head had not quite faded. Now they grew brighter. “Oh, Melody!” Then he collapsed.

“But he's dying!” Becka said, remembering.

“Oh, that's right,” Harmony said.

“But we can fix it,” Rhythm concluded.

Melody went to join them. They linked hands, and sang and played, and a bottle appeared. Melody caught it and offered it to the man. “Drink this.”

“What is it?” he asked weakly.

“The antidote,” Harmony said.

“We conjured it,” Rhythm concluded.

Anomy tried to take the bottle, but was too weak, so the three princesses got down beside him, lifted him up, and poured the medicine into his mouth.

The effect was immediate. Strength returned, and Anomy sat up with their help. “I feel much better.”

“It's strong medicine,” Melody said.

He glanced around at them. Harmony was closely supporting his left shoulder, Rhythm his fight shoulder, and Melody his head. He was still half buried in princesses. “That, too.”

Sim squawked: It was time to go to Princess Ida, to make the return exchange.

“But how can I go, when I didn't come from there?” Anomy asked.

“You will exchange with your Self who is there,” Melody said.

“If that were my idea, it would be stupid.”

“Fortunately it's not your idea,” Harmony said.

“It's our idea,” Rhythm concluded.

They gathered together, and Sim carried them to Castle Roogna. Princess Ida was expecting them; she came out to meet them in the orchard, so that Sim would not be inconvenienced. The huge bright bird also became visible. He was amazingly beautiful.

The exchange was not very dramatic. The five of them stood in a circle, and faded, and then became clear again--in much reduced size. Sim was as big as a man, instead of as big as a grown roc. The three princesses were children, only four years old. Anomy was a boy of five.

“Who are you?” little Princess Melody asked the boy.