Five Portraits (19 page)

Astrid recognized the smell. “You're a werewolf!”

“A captive,” Wesla agreed. “Now I serve the Dragon King.”

Wulfha had mentioned that her friend had been captured, raped, and forced into servitude. Wesla had surely suffered sorely.

“Goldie Goblin said something about my being a future queen. Do you know anything about that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you care to tell me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause. It seemed that these servants had been instructed to volunteer little unless directly asked, and they were rigorously true to that directive. That spoke another volume about the discipline the master enforced. “Then tell me about this, please.”

“The Dragon King means to make a political marriage with you so he can extend his hegemony beyond the dragons. A beautiful basilisk would seem to be perfect, serving as a threat to other species that might be resistive. If he can tame a basilisk, he can tame anything.”

Tame
her? Astrid rankled. “I am already married.”

Wesla did not respond.

“Doesn't that make a difference?”

“No. Relationships outside Storage are null.”

“Not to me!”

Silence.

It seemed that the Dragon King was the law in this realm. Astrid had sympathy for the werewolf, but suspected she was a lost cause. “Please arrange for us to be fed.”

“Lunch is ready.”

And there in the dining room a competent meal had been laid out. Astrid hadn't thought to check when she emerged from the washing up. “Thank you.”

No reply.

They went to the dining room. There was something for everyone, including eye scream and boot rear for the children, and has beans for the adult.

After the meal, Astrid encouraged the children to lie down and rest, perchance to sleep. “You have had a difficult morning,” she said. “You are surely overtired.” She was thinking especially of the way Firenze and Santo had labored with their talents to deal with dragons and a wall. They needed to restore their resources.

“Can we take the big bed?” Myst asked.

“Welcome to it.”

All the children piled onto the big bed, linking hands. With luck, the watching Dragon King would not know the significance of linking hands, and would assume they were merely reassuring each other. Soon they were asleep.

Wesla and Goldie were now in the dining room, cleaning up. On impulse, Astrid joined them. “I don't want to make any trouble for anyone,” she said. “But since there is a chance I will be joining you, in one capacity or another, I would like to get to know you a little better. Would that be out of order?”

The two exchanged a wary look. “If knowing us encourages you to join us, it is in order,” Goldie said. But she volunteered nothing else.

“Out in Xanth proper I was able to help save three goblin girls from captivity by a troll. I have little use for goblin males, but those girls seemed nice.”

“We try to be,” Goldie said with a bit of a shudder. Then Astrid realized that she had probably also been raped and brutalized. An accommodation spell could have facilitated the first. She also realized that the spying probably wasn't just visual; their dialogue might be overheard. That would help explain the extreme reticence of these captives.

Astrid glanced at Wesla. “We passed through Wolf Country on our way here. I met Wulfha.”

Now the werewolf unbent a little, if only to ask a question. “What did you think of her?”

“She is one smart, tough bitch. I call her my friend.”

Wesla did not speak, but her mouth twitched in the suggestion of a smile.

Astrid decided to let them be. At least she had established some basis for acquaintance, just in case.

There was a knock on the outer door. Astrid went to open it. There stood a regally unfamiliar woman. “I am the Dragon Lady,” she said. “We should talk.”

“Do come in.” This promised to be interesting.

They settled in easy chairs in the living room. “As you know, the King has his eye on you,” the Lady said.

“Unfortunately I do not have my eye on him. We are only passing through.”

“Not so. You will remain here until you have satisfied his desire.”

“I'm a basilisk,” Astrid said, changing just her head into her natural form for a generous instant so as not to mess up her nice pink dress.

“And I'm a dragon,” the Lady agreed, doing the same. “I have come here at the behest of the King to clarify your situation.”

“There are few creatures who seriously think they can force a basilisk to do anything she doesn't want to do, and fewer who would ever want to marry one.”

“The King is one of the few.”

This remained curious. “What is your relationship to the King?”

“I am his mistress. I hope in time to become his wife.”

“Then why are you talking with me? I surely am not good for your design.”

“I would be happy to see all of you dead,” the Lady said candidly. “But that is not my decision to make. I am obliged to persuade you to marry the King and give him an heir to the throne.”

Astrid digested this. Not only a political liaison, but summoning the stork, or whatever dragons summoned? That might be a considerable challenge for the King, and anathema to her. “The King has you so much in thrall that you must come to persuade another creature to marry him and oblige him in bed and give him an heir instead of you doing these things? Thus ruining your own aspirations?”

“Exactly.”

This spoke volumes about the Dragon King's powers of coercion. “Unlikely. Tell him your mission failed.”

“The King thought you might be a bit slow to appreciate the nuances,” the Lady said. “Hence my visit.”

“The King must be quite persuasive.”

“He is. No one says no to the King.”

Until now. “Just how does he propose to persuade me?”

“His program is basic. You came here with five children, to whom you are evidently attached. You will have one day and night to make your decision. If it is negative, the smallest child will be taken and caged with the male troll laborers, who are notoriously crude and corrupt. You may imagine the use they will try to make of her through the bars of her cage. They won't be able to ravish or kill her, but they will seriously demean her and forever destroy her innocence. You will then have another day and night to change your mind. If you do not, the cage will open and the trolls will have their loathsome and lethal way with the child. Her screams will be broadcast throughout the castle, so you will know it is happening. Then the second smallest will be similarly caged for a day and night. In this manner all five children will be disposed of in turn. Thereafter you yourself will be hooded and caged, with a day and night to decide whose bride you will be: the King's or the trolls. He hopes you will be reasonable before that point.”

Astrid shuddered inwardly. The King evidently had no mercy on his victims. He was after all a dragon.

“And you, Lady—what is your hope?”

“That you will hold out and be raped to death. Then the King may be more inclined to consider my suit, where rape is unnecessary.”

“But suppose I accede to the King's wish. Won't that destroy your chance?”

“Not necessarily. The King can be fickle. He may tire of you before too long, as he has with other prospects, and then you and the children will go to the trolls anyway, or be served for dinner. But this would delay my suit yet again. I would rather be rid of you at the outset.”

“You might avoid complications by simply enabling us to escape this castle.”

“I would be tempted, but for two things: I would not survive the King's rage, and escape is impossible.”

“We broke into the castle. Why can't we break out of it?”

“Because you were supposed to come in. The dragons herded you here; didn't you notice? But when you try to get out—the King knows you will try, which is why he grants you that first day for the effort—you will run afoul of the illusion maze. Then you will come to understand the folly of even thinking of escaping the will of the King.”

“Illusion maze?”

“Perhaps it has to be experienced to be properly appreciated. But I can give you a hint: if you encounter a wall, it may not actually be there, so you will waste your effort trying to get around or through it. If you set out across a level floor, it may conceal a pit of acid. You will be able to trust nothing you see. If a troll comes at you, it may or may not be real. Even if you could clearly see the whole of it, it's a maze: you would have trouble finding your way through it. So by morning you would be hopelessly lost. And of course the only real gate is guarded by alert dragons; there will be no exit there.”

“That is a good hint,” Astrid agreed.

“You may prefer not even to make the attempt. Simply submit to the King's will and it will be easier for you, and much easier for the children. If you are really obliging, and actually give him some pleasure, you could have a good life, you and the children, for some time. I will simply have to endure it.”

So they would both be in misery, while Astrid suffered what the Lady desired, ironically. “I will consider it.”

“Have a pleasant afternoon and evening,” the Lady said tersely as she departed.

Astrid pondered. Her prettiness in human form had gotten her into the usual difficulty, and this trap was more sophisticated than that of the fiend. But there had to be a way out. The children's sense of the correct path had not faltered, and she believed it remained valid. But at times like this her faith was sorely beset.

The children woke and came out to join her. “We had a dream,” Squid said.

“About a mean old queen dragon who came to threaten you,” Win said.

“But you weren't scared,” Myst said.

It occurred to Astrid that here in the Dragon King's castle they would be well advised to pretend they didn't know that their dialogue was not private. “Let's play a game,” she murmured. “Do you know about crossed fingers?”

“Sometimes we hate you,” Firenze said, crossing his fingers.

“That's it,” Astrid agreed. She crossed her own fingers. “Of course no dragon queen threatened me. She was perfectly reasonable, in her view. She did have a forceful case to make. I need to consider it quite seriously.”

They smiled, understanding.

There was another knock. Astrid went to the door. There was a handsome man in a kingly robe. “I believe you know who I am,” he said.

“I believe I do,” Astrid agreed. “Come into my boudoir, Dragon King.”

The children faded into the background, visible but not intrusive, the very models of docile youth. They knew how to play a role.

“I would like to make you my consort and recognize your children, with their several talents, as heirs to important offices in the Kingdom. It would be a better life than you are likely to find elsewhere.”

“I talked with the Dragon Lady,” Astrid said. “She was persuasive. But I am as yet uncertain that this is a life I wish to have, or that the children should have. We are only passing through this vicinity on our way back to our home in Xanth proper.”

“The only exit to Xanth proper is through the Dungeons and the Mad Birds domain, and thence through the Playground,” the King said. “I understand that has been shut off.”

“We hope to find another exit.”

“We know of none. I fear you will not be able to depart Storage for some time. In the interim I would dearly like to have your favor, lovely basilisk. You have demonstrated qualities to be admired in any creature, and should make an excellent Queen.”

“You understand that my direct gaze is lethal, and my ambiance intoxicating and also lethal in fairly short order? I am not a very embraceable creature.”

“The embrace I contemplate can be accomplished in seconds. That should suffice. Not even a kiss is required. Thereafter we would sleep apart.”

“Assuming I am amenable.”

“Assuming,” he agreed with another smile. “Please say you will consider it.”

“I will consider it,” Astrid said. “But I have not made up my mind.”

“We shall talk again tomorrow,” the King said, smiling as he departed.

Astrid was privately amazed. The Dragon King was so personable and polite! But he had made sure she understood that his offer was not to be denied. There was sharp steel under that velvet.

“I think he wants to kiss you,” Squid said. “Even if he says he just wants a hug.”

“Something like that,” Astrid agreed. “But he also wants us to stay here, and not go home.” She crossed her fingers where they could see. “That might not be so bad.”

“It's a nice castle,” Firenze said, fingers crossed. “And it might be fun having all those servants helping us.”

“Instead of struggling through more dangers,” Santo agreed, fingers crossed.

“Well, let's think about it, and sleep on it,” Astrid said. “Then in the morning we can decide.”

“After a good night's sleep,” Firenze agreed.

“In any event, there's no point in even thinking about leaving the castle,” Astrid said. “It is an illusion maze.” She uncrossed her fingers and described it. Then she crossed them again. “So I don't want any of you trying to find any way out. That would only get us all in trouble. We would not want to annoy our gracious hosts.”

“We won't,” the children agreed, all fingers crossed.

“I'm glad we have that understanding,” Astrid concluded. “Sometimes you can be pretty annoying brats.” Her fingers were plainly crossed.

“And sometimes you smell bad,” Squid said. The others laughed.

Then the children joined hands. They had a serious escape route to figure out. Astrid hoped they would succeed.

The rest of the day was quiet. The children ran around, played, napped, had a sumptuous dinner and finally, after routine fussing, went to bed. But Astrid could not relax. The Dragon King knew the talents of the children, having seen them in action against his dragons, and surely the castle and its denizens would be prepared to foil them. How could they come up with an escape that the minions of the dragon would not balk? She believed in the children, she had confidence in them, and yet she couldn't help doubting. And if they did not succeed in escaping, what could she do except agree to the King's demands? She couldn't stand to see any child tortured.