Zombie Lover (41 page)

Then Prince Dolph changed form, his feet grabbing the sides of the boat while his great wings spread and took up the slack. The fall became a rise. They were on their way.

"That was fun," the boat said. Breanna stomped a floor panel.

King Dor and Bink brought out handkerchiefs and wiped the remaining lip bomb from their faces. Breanna touched her own lips, where a trace of bliss lingered. She had had no idea that something like that existed. It was a devastating weapon in the war of genders, usable by either side. As it was, she had half a crush on King Dor, despite his advanced age.

They flew down to the ground somewhat south of the Isle. They landed, and Prince Dolph resumed riding in the boat. Soon they came to a man contemplating a loaf of bread. As they halted by him, the bread became a statue of a winged dragon.

"Phil Istine," King Dor said, stepping out of the boat. "We have brought you a wife from the Isle of Women."

Phil's eye fell on Breanna. "A black beauty," he said. "But isn't she about three years young?"

"Not me. white trash." Breanna retorted. "Her." She indicated Tipsy, who was carefully applying lip bomb.

"A troll moll?" Phil demanded incredulously. "I meant a human-type woman."

"She is half human," Bink said. "And a nice person with a warm heart. ' '

"I don't care about her heart! She's a troll!"

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"At least give her a try/' King Dor suggested. "Kiss her."

"Why should I kiss a troll? It's no deal/'

"Then let her kiss you," Bink said evenly as Tipsy got out of the

boat.

Phil did not look pleased, but couldn't refute the logic because there wasn't enough to refute. So he stood disdainfully while Tipsy approached him and planted a hot kiss on his lips.

It was something to watch. The man fell back, spun three times around, and fell on the ground, leaving a trail of heart-shaped cloudlets. It would have been comical, if Breanna hadn't experienced such

a kiss herself.

Tipsy went to help him sit up. "I'm sorry. 1 didn't mean to—" "Okay, you'll do," Phil said. Then he glared at King Dor. "But still, she's a troll. That's only half a loaf. So I'll give you half a loaf in exchange: I'll just tell you who else knows where you live. Go to the king of the werewolves, in the Isle of Wolves."

King Dor did not look pleased, but Breanna saw that there was a certain logic to Phil Istine's decision. Tipsy was a nice woman, but she was a troll. With the help of the lip bomb she would surely make Phil about as happy as he deserved to be. Meanwhile, this meant that the three kings would need to visit another interesting place, and that Breanna would be able to enjoy their adventure a while longer.

Breanna went to Tipsy. "Could you spare a little of that lip bomb? I'd like to have it for an emergency."

"Certainly." Tipsy found a packet and scraped some of the red stuff into it.

"Thank you." Breanna put the packet away. King Dor returned to the boat. "Can you take us to the Isle of Wolves?" he asked with resignation.

"Sure. It's not far from the Isle of Women." "Very well. Please take us there now."

They got in the boat, and it padded toward the water, ran in, then paddled swiftly north.

Breanna looked back. There was Tipsy troll, waving. Breanna waved back, feeling a lump in her throat. They had gotten Tipsy what she most desperately wanted, a husband, but had they done right by her? The wrong man would be worse than no man at all, as Breanna1 s experience with Ralph had shown.

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"Suppose Phil mistreats her?" she asked Bink. "I mean, some men are brutes."

Bink nodded. "I have a similar concern, though her talent of the cold shoulder could set him back if that proved necessary. That's one reason I decided to fetch the lip bomb. Can you imagine ever mistreating a man who kisses you with that?"

She pondered that. "No, I guess not. When King Dor kissed me, I would have done anything for him." She glanced in the king's direction, "Still would," she murmured.

Bink smiled. "The effect slowly fades. I was first kissed by Sharon Centaur, when we delivered Aurora Winged Mermaid there. I always liked centaurs and have had good relations with them, but I never saw them as romantic objects. That is—" he paused, awkwardly.

"I understand," Breanna said. "No storks."

"Yes. But when Sharon kissed me, I just wanted to please her. It wasn't the same as love elixir; I wasn't in love with her. But she seemed infinitely desirable, and if she had wanted to summon the stork, I would have found it harder to resist than I did when the Isle of Women tempted me. When I saw her again, I felt a thrill, as if we had been lovers, though we had not. If one kiss had such effect, what would several have? So I think Phil Istine will never mistreat Tipsy."

Breanna nodded. "You're a lot older than you look, and married, and Sharon is of a different species, but that bomb got to you. I'm too young and King Dor's too old, as well as being married, but if it were just the two of us in this boat, I'd be growing up real fast. So you're right: Tipsy's safe with Phil. I'm glad of it, because she's a good woman."

"Yes. Actually all the women of the Isle are good, just desperate. They treated us fairly by their lights."

"Just as you treat others fairly." she agreed. "You know, it's just chance that I met up with you, but I'm glad I did, and not just because it's a nice adventure. I'm learning a lot."

"It may not be just chance," he said.

"What do you mean? I was trying to escape Xeth Zombie, and you were trying to find your way home. Neither of us knew or cared about the other. I was even asleep when you arrived. So our paths crossed randomly."

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"Let me see if I can explain. My life is less random than it seems.

because of my talent/'

"What is your talent, if it's okay to ask? They call you a king, which means you must have a Magician-caliber magic talent, but I haven't seen anything, no offense."

"My talent normally conceals itself from others," Bink said. "If I am able to tell you about it, it will be because you have some need to know. It is—" he hesitated, as if afraid something was going to stop him. "That I cannot be harmed by magic." He looked surprised. "And you must indeed have a need to know."

"I don't need to know anything. I'm just foolishly curious. Do you mean that if someone hurls a bad spell at you, it won't land?"

"More than that. No magical creature will do me harm, no magic plant will hurt me, no magic of the inanimate will act against me. But because someone might find a way to circumvent or nullify my talent if its nature were generally known, my talent conceals itself. So it usually acts indirectly."

"Fascinating," Justin Tree remarked.

"Suppose a dragon chomps you? That's pretty direct, and you'd

need direct protection."

"Yes. So the dragon will not try to chomp me, or if it does try, something seemingly coincidental will interfere so that it doesn't happen. Another dragon might appear on the scene, distracting it, or it might fall in a hole it didn't see because it was looking at me instead

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of the ground,"

"But then how can you tell that it is your talent protecting you?

That it isn't all just coincidence?"

He smiled. "It protects me through coincidence. And few folk ever suspect. You can test this. Try harming me nonmagically."

Breanna was abashed. "Oh, I would never—"

"Not seriously. Just enough to ascertain that you could do it if you

wanted to."

"Okay. I'm going to push you out of the boat." He was beside her on the seat. She put her hands against his shoulder and pushed. He tilted. She pushed harder. He was in danger of falling over into

the water.

She desisted. "I guess I could do it, if you didn't tight back."

"Now try to harm me magically."

"But 1 don't have any—" Then she remembered the protection

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racket. Was it still working? She tried banging her hand against the wooden seat, lightly, then harder, then harder yet.

"Hey!" the boat protested. "You're going to damage me!"

"Sorry, Para." The racket was working, because she had suffered no pain. She looked at Bink and raised her fist. "I have this magic protection, so I can hit without being hurt. Are you sure—?"

"Yes. Try to hit me."

"Okay," she said dubiously. She aimed a blow at his nose, but pulled her punch without touching him. "Bink, there's nothing stopping me. I can't do this to you."

"Do it," he said firmly.

So she aimed for his cheek and tried a light blow. It landed. "Bink, I tell you, there's nothing stopping me. I don't dare try to really—"

"Let me try it," Justin said.

"Okay." She relinquished control of her arm to him.

Her arm lifted, formed a tight fist, and shot directly toward Bink's nose.

The boat suddenly swerved, causing the fist to miss, and she sprawled halfway across Bink's lap. "Sorry," the boat said. "There was a piece of sharp wreckage I didn't see until the last moment, and I had to swerve. Usually I'm more alert."

Breanna picked herself up, unconvinced. "That was sheer coincidence."

"/ don't think so '

"Let me try again." She addressed Bink, putting her right hand behind his head and lifting her left fist. "I'm going to hate myself in a moment," she said grimly. "But I've got to know." She shot her fist forward at his nose.

A large soft ball flew between them. Her fist punched into it, and it pressed against Bink's face, cushioning the blow so that he wasn't hurt. Where had the ball come from?

A snout poked out of the water. "May we have our ball back, miss?" the sea creature inquired. "Sorry it got in your way."

"Who or what are you?" Breanna asked it.

"I am a manatee," it said. "I was just playing a ball game with my family."

Three more snouts appeared. "I am his wife, the womanatee," a large one said.

"I'm his son, the boyatee," a smaller one said

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"I'm his daughter, the girlatee," the smallest one said.

A fifth snout appeared, rising into an animal head. "And I'm the Seal of Approval," it said. "Family games are good. You wouldn't want to interfere, would you?"

"Oh, of course not," Breanna said, embarrassed. She tossed the ball down to them.

The seal caught it expertly on its nose and flipped it to the nearest tee. The family game resumed as they swam away from the boat.

"Don't forget what you were doing," Bink reminded her gently.

Breanna considered. "I don't see how coincidence could stretch that far. That ball had to be deliberate."