Two To The Fifth (29 page)

I FEEL GUILT, AND NEED A LIVING OPINION. THE VILLAGERS OF COURSE SUPPORT ME, BUT YOU ARE MORE OBJECTIVE. I WANT TO KNOW THAT I DID THE RIGHT THING, EVEN IF I HAD TO DO A WRONG THING TO ACHIEVE IT.

So it was a confession. He wished he could do the same about his own guilt with Rhythm.

A bulb flashed over his head, “I have a similar confession, requiring similar objective judgment,” he said. “Will you listen?”

Layea gazed at him, half in surprise, half in gratitude, YES.

“I was seduced by a Sorceress, a stunning creature twenty-two years old, I love her still. But her real age is twelve. She used magic to age herself a decade, and I knew it, but did it anyway. How great is my guilt?”

YOU ARE A MAN.

“Yes. But that doesn't excuse it.”

MEN DON'T NEED EXCUSES. THEY DO WHAT THEY DO REGARDLESS. YOU COULDN"T HELP YOURSELF.

“Still.”

THE GUILT IS THAT OF THE SORCERESS, WHO KNEW WHAT SHE WAS DOING.

“I don't blame her! I love her.”

YOU ARE A MAN, she repeated, THE MINION WAS A MAN. ALL A WOMAN HAS TO DO IS SHOW HER PANTIES OR HER BRA OR EVEN SOMETIMES JUST HER BARE FLESH AND SHE CAN DO ANYTHING WITH HIM SHE WANTS. SHE USED YOU AS I USED THE MINION. YOU ARE GUILTY ONLY OF BEING WHAT YOU ARE.

“Somehow I'm not relieved.”

AT LEAST YOU LOVE HER. THE MINION DIDN"T LOVE ME; HE USED ME. YOUR GUILT IS MINIMAL.

He hadn't thought of it that way. A burden was easing from his conscience. “Thank you, Layea.”

WELCOME. Then they resumed the illusion presentation.

A MONTH LATER A SECOND MINION ARRIVED, THEY HAD FOUND THE FIRST, WHO HAD FORGOTTEN HIS MISSION. HE DEMANDED TO KNOW WHO HAD DONE IT.

“But they couldn't know it was you,” Cyrus said. “Because of the forgetting.”

THEY KNEW WHERE HE HAD BEEN SENT. THE SECOND MINION WAS A CANNY BRUTE. HE WANTED LAYEA TO SWEAR FEALTY, BUT HE ALSO WANTED WHATEVER THE FIRST HAD GOTTEN. SO I TOLD HIM. IN FACT KATRIANA SHOWED HIM.

“Showed him! The way she's showing me?”

YES.

“But then she must have been there, to see it herself!”

NO. I TOLD HER, AND SHE RE-CREATED THE SEQUENCE.

Cyrus shook his head. This was desperation indeed. There were women who would literally die rather than expose themselves to the potential humiliation of having their illicit seductions publicized.

The picture showed a picture within the picture, as the Second Minion watched what the first had done with Layea, The sight evidently excited him greatly.

WE MADE A DEAL. HE COULD DO THE SAME AT NIGHT. IN THE MORNING I WOULD FILL TWO CUPS WITH WATER. ONE WOULD BE NORMAL; THE OTHER, LETHE. HE WOULD CHOOSE, AND WE BOTH WOULD DRINK.

“He agreed to that?” Cyrus asked incredulously.

THE ILLUSION SHOW MUST HAVE TURNED HIM ON.

As it had turned Cyrus on. It was, as she had said, the condition of being male.

So the second minion had at her all night, and in the morning she fixed two clear drinks. She held them up before him, inviting him to choose.

He picked one, then gestured: he wanted her to drink first. She put hers to her mouth and sipped. She smiled, not losing her memory.

HA, HE TOOK HER DRINK FROM HER, AND GAVE HER HIS.

“Hey!” Cyrus said. “Isn't that cheating? You should have drunk simultaneously.”

I CHEATED TOO.

“How? You gave him his choice.”

WATCH.

Layea was clearly reluctant to drink from the second cup, but he insisted. She evidently reminded him that he must drink too, and her talent was making him conform, so they drank together. One sip each.

Layea looked slightly confused, affected by a little bit of memory loss. The Minion smiled, then glugged down the rest of his drink, while Layea sipped more delicately.

Then he stood dazed. He had forgotten everything. She turned him about and sent him walking out of the house and village. He was done.

“But he switched drinks!” Cyrus protested. “You had the lethe!”

I FAKED CONFUSION.

“But if that wasn't the one—you drank from both.”

I FILLED EACH HALF FULL OF LETHE, AND HALF FULL OF SAFE WATER. THE LETHE IS THICKER, AND SETTLED TO THE BOTTOM.

“And you never drank down to the bottom, as he did! You tricked him.”

I DID, WAS I WRONG?

Cyrus considered. The minion had been so determined to cheat that he had fooled himself. He had thought he had the safe one, and glugged it. “Less wrong than he was.”

THANK YOU. I DO FEEL SOME GUILT.

“Ragna Roc must have been pretty mad when he lost a second Minion.”

HE DIDN'T NOTICE.

“Didn't notice! Then why did he destroy your village?”

Layea smiled. The illusion picture moved again.

This time it showed Roc Ette gracefully flying. When she nested on the ground her plumage was drab brown, but when her wings spread they displayed rainbow colors. She was beautiful when she tried, typically female in that respect.

One day as she foraged she encountered a male roc. He admired her wings and squawked to her in bird talk. He wanted her to come with him, to be his companion and perhaps more. She was interested, and followed him to his lair, which was beside a huge castle being constructed from rock candy.

Then she saw three other roc hens nesting, and realized that she had not been invited to be his sole companion, but a member of a harem. Revolted, she wheeled about in midair and departed.

The three other hens vaulted from their nests and pursued her. They boxed her in, flying before, above, and below her. “Halt, hen!” the one above squawked. “Do you not know who asked you? Don't be coy.” There was no actual sounds in the picture, but Layea printed the words so that the full scene was re-created.

“Whoever he is, he has some nerve,” Ette retorted. “You may be satisfied to share, but I am not. We do not practice plural marriage in Xanth.”

“That's the old order. He is Ragna Roc, establishing the new order. You would do well to seek his favor, as we do.”

“Why should I want the favor of a philandering cock bird?”

“Because otherwise he will delete you.”

“What me?”

“Delete you. He will render you into illusion. That's his talent. He is a Magician Roc, and he will govern, or see the end of Xanth in a mighty battle. He is a god.”

“He's deluded! There are no gods.”

“There were no gods,” the hen squawked. “Now there is Ragna. Join him now, while the position remains open.”

“Hardly,” Ette said with contempt. Then she folded her wings and plummeted past the lower hen. She got a new direction and flew away before the three could reorient. She dodged behind a mountain, turned at right angles, and shot off again, flying barely over the ground, losing them.

But after that her life was not her own. When she foraged, there were spy rocs that reported her position, and the three hens came after her. It was evident that Ragna intended to capture her for his harem, regardless of her preference. What was she to do? She had to forage, lest she starve, but then she could be spotted in the sky. Rocs are big birds; they can not readily disappear in flight.

It got worse. Ette made evasive maneuvers whenever she spied another roc, be it hen or cock, but even so they were narrowing down her home range. Soon they would locate her nest, and then she would be doomed.

Then the villagers repaid their debt to her. They constructed a tent over the deepest section of the mine, coloring it to resemble that section so that it would be invisible from above. It was big enough for Ette to roost under. They also masked her nest, so there was no indication that a roc had ever roosted there.

But how was she to eat? They handled that too. They brought her a constant stream of assorted foods to eat, ranging from trapped welsh rabbits to giant pot pies harvested from the village orchard. It wasn't pleasant having to stay hunched down all day, but she was essentially invisible, and safe.

Days passed, and the search died down. Ette emerged, desperate to resume hunting for herself.

And the rocs spied her. They had been waiting in ambush, knowing she was somewhere in this sector. Now they had narrowed it down further.

She tried to escape, but they had her surrounded. She fled to the very edge of Xanth, but could go no farther, because without the magic ambiance she could not fly at all. She had to land and await her fate.

Ragna came. “Swear allegiance to me,” he squawked.

“Never!” she squawked back.

He didn't argue. He merely looked at her—and she felt something strange in her wings. She tried to lurch into the air, to fly—and discovered that her wingfeathers had become illusion. Ragna had clipped her wings, in his fashion. She could no longer fly.

They strung a harness around her, made a captive centaur flick her to be light, and the three roc hens used the harness to carry her up and on to Ragna's castle. She could not fly away, and was doomed to belong to his harem until she could slowly grow new flight feathers. If he didn't delete them too.

“What a fate,” Cyrus said sadly.

Then the Minions backtracked, and located the concealed roost in the mine. They understood what the villagers had done.

Ragna came and stared at the village. One by one the houses were deleted, along with whatever was inside them, including people. Those who tried to flee were deleted in midmotion. The Roc did not stop until the entire village and all its inhabitants were illusion. Then they set a sign saying POMPOS CITY and departed, leaving it as an object lesson for anyone else who might think to oppose the Roc.

NOW YOU KNOW, Layea concluded.

“I'm sorry,” Cyrus said, feeling inadequate.

NOT YOUR FAULT.

“Thank you for showing me what happened here.”

WHY DID YOU WANT TO KNOW?

Cyrus pondered, and decided to take a risk, because he really wanted to give Layea and her village some hope. “I have a secret.”

Both women smiled. WE WILL KEEP IT.

“My mission is to destroy Ragna Roc. I am gathering information.”

Both women looked highly gratified. WE WISH YOU SUCCESS. IS THERE ANY WAY WE CAN HELP?

“Do you know the limits of his power?”

They shook their heads. IT SEEMS TO HAVE NO LIMIT. HE IS SURELY THE MOST POWERFUL SORCERER IN XANTH.

“Thank you,” he said regretfully.

Cyrus did not return directly to the troupe. Disturbed by what he had learned and the magnitude of the mission, he walked out of the illusion city until he came to a region where the trees and objects were real.

Something attracted him to a particular tree. There was a sadness here, a loneliness. In fact it felt like a maiden weeping. Grief was something he had a fresh appreciation for. But he saw nothing. Yet it was here, beside the tree. Was it another virtual ghost?

No, human man, the lady's thought came faintly. It is I, Anona.

He looked around again, “Anona, I don't see you.”

Look down.

He looked down. All he saw was an ant.

Yes. Anona Ant. I am sadly lost from my Pique ant hill, and fear I will never find my way home.

“An ant! How can I hear you?”

Lift me up near your head.

He reached down and put out one finger for the ant to climb on. She did. Then he brought the finger to his face. Anona was a surprisingly pretty ant. “You can read minds?”

It's a complicated story. The essence is that Che Centaur fed me some royal jelly, two years ago, and it made me more female than is good for me, and had a side effect of making me slightly telepathic.

He spoke aloud, because that focused his thoughts specifically so she could read them. “That explains that. But how did you get lost?”

I was foraging alone— my untoward femaleness makes me unwelcome among other workers— and found a nice grain of wax on a snoozing bird. But when I pried it loose, the bird woke and took flight, and carried me away I finally got off when the bird landed, but I was far far away from home. I have been crying ever since. Can you help me?

“I don't know. I am not conversant with ant geography.”

I believe we are guided, sometimes in ways we don't understand. There must have been reason for me to get lost, and for you to find me. Let me nest in your pocket, and perhaps you will find a way to return me to my hill."

Cyrus was about to demur, but the grief of Anona ant threatened to burst out again. So he tried reason. “I am on a very dangerous mission. It would not be safe for you stay with me for any length of time.”

Does it relate to Ragna Roc?

“How did you know that?”

Because you are here at the edge of the village he recently destroyed. It is also uppermost in your mind.

“Yes. Then you know the danger.”

Help me, and I will help you, if I can. I doubt an ant can do much, but there must have been some higher purpose in our meeting.

Cyrus sighed. He put the ant in his front shirt pocket.

Ah, you have some cookie crumbs here I can eat.

“I guess I do.” he agreed. “Sometimes I store them there.” He turned around and walked back to the troupe. He never thought of Anona again, and she didn't remind him, though she was close enough to reach him telepathically. Maybe it was her notion of manifest destiny.

They put on the plays, staying three days. The illusion villagers loved them all. They might have no substance, but their human passions remained.

THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TROUBLE, Layea printed. YOU ARE THE FIRST REAL FOLK TO TREAT US LIKE PEOPLE.

“You're welcome,” Cyrus said, a lump in his throat. The village had helped a friend, and paid a horrible price.

“Maybe we'll visit again, when we have more plays,” Kadence said.

Cyrus had caught the troupe up with the general history of the village, and they all sympathized. There were nods of agreement. They would return—if they had the chance.

“We have two cities to choose from,” Curtis said. “The left fork of the trail leads to Elasti; the right fork to Verbo, Do we have a preference?”

“Elasti City and Verbo City,” Cyrus repeated thoughtfully. “I am growing tired of the big bird's penchant for puns.”

“Actually, Elasti has been named that all along,” Curtis said. “Perhaps it served as the inspiration for the Roc's renaming of the others.”

“Let's go there, then,” Cyrus said.

Elasti City turned out to be a wonder of rubber and elastic, with buildings that swayed in the wind and snapped back into shape as it passed. The people, too, seemed resilient, being friendly and not illusory. They were not bent out of shape by the appearance of outsiders.

“This is beautiful,” Rhythm said, looking around.

“Mind-stretching,” Kadence said, giggling.

But Cyrus knew that there was danger here, as in all the areas taken over by Ragna Roc. What special challenge would they encounter?

The central building was especially interesting, looking partly like a limber palace and partly like a lady's garment that flexed gracefully with every suggestion of a breeze, “I could almost wear that, when I mature,” Rhythm remarked.

“In what venue?” For she was both princess and girl.

“Both, of course.” She was probably correct.

“Hello!” Cyrus called.

The laced door opened and a woman appeared. She was elegantly garbed in a dress that stretched in all the right places, and she wore a petite elastic crown. “Yes?” she inquired, her voice wonderfully resilient.

“I am Cyrus Cyborg, and these are Rhyme and her sister Kadence,” Cyrus said. He never liked lying, but there was no alternative in this case. “We represent a traveling troupe. We would like to present three plays here, if you are interested.”

The woman nodded. “I am Princess Lullaby of Elasti City, and we have been expecting you. Do come in.”

“Expecting us?” Cyrus asked, nonplussed.

“Did you suppose your travels were secret? We have considerable candor to share. Enter.”

“Thank you. Princess,” Cyrus said, hardly nonminused by her words. What did she mean by candor?

Lullaby seated them on ornate bouncy stools, and sat in a thronelike chair herself. It gave springily under her weight. Everything here was resilient to some degree.

“You will want to know about our association with Ragna Roc,” Lullaby said. “That is simply told. We have always had a fine business in the export of elastic clothing and materials; it helps stretch our budget so that our people don't get bent out of shape by hard work.”

“So we have seen,” Cyrus agreed cautiously.

There was a BOOM! the sound of a nearby explosion, making them jump. “Don't be concerned.” Lullaby said soothingly. “That's only Rocky, helping with construction. His talent is to make stones or other small things explode. It's very handy when we have to clear a cluttered lot.”

“You are still doing construction?”

“Oh, yes. We like building new things. We posted a sign saying BLOCK LONG ERECTION.”

Cyrus bit his tongue. Rhythm looked slightly suspicious, and Kadence noticed nothing. Had Lullaby said it on purpose? What was she up to?

“It's good to keep working,” Cyrus said noncommittally.

“Then Ragna came and offered us more. Working with him, we are in a position to extend our range and expand our influence. Naturally this interested us, and we gladly joined his realm.”

“Realm?”

“He is a god, Cyrus. He doesn't have a kingdom but a realm.”

This was too much for Cyrus. “He's a rank impostor!”

“You will surely change your opinion, once you know more of him. We did.”

“He's a power-hungry birdbrain!”

She nodded benignly. “I see you will need some persuasion. I think it is merely a matter of discovering your price.”

“I have no price! I am loyal to the present order.”

“Really?” Lullaby opened her gown to show the curvy upper lines of a jeweled bra.

“That won't work,” he said, disgusted.

“So it seems. The actresses of your troupe all got into bed with you and tried to seduce you, without success. That might indicate sterling reserve.”

“Might.” Cyrus agreed, shaken by her knowledge of that particular situation.

“Or it might suggest disinterest in their bodies,” Lullaby continued resiliently. “Because then you took up with a child.”

He stared at her. So did Rhythm and Kadence.

“A twelve-year-old girl. You seem to be having a regular affair with her. Now you are getting interested in her six-year-old sister.”

“I—” Cyrus said, but further words clogged in his throat.

Rhythm put her hand on his, “She's baiting you,” she murmured.

Kadence put her hand on his other hand. “Don't let her get to you.”

“But this is outrageous!”

Both hands squeezed his warningly, and he shut his mouth.

“Cyrus,” Lullaby continued inexorably. “You are a pedophile.”

The hands continued their warning squeezing. The girls evidently knew something he didn't. He kept silent.

“Consensual, it seems,” Lullaby said. “Interesting.”

Then he realized: the woman knew only part of the story. She had made an assumption that might have been reasonable, based on her incomplete information, and was playing him for her own purpose. It was better to leave her in ignorance.

That gave him command of the situation. “My relationship with these two girls is consensual,” he agreed, “What are you leading up to?”

“Swear fealty to Ragna Roc, assist him in ushering in the new order, and not only will you be among the privileged, you will be free to maintain any relationships you want, with any amenable children, not merely these two.”

She was trying to blackmail him into enlisting! Now maybe he could play her, for vital information. “I doubt it. Ragna deleted two Minions for trying to take over two underage girls.”

“He did delete them, but not for that reason. Ragna does not care about interpersonal relations, apart from those directly with him: loyal, unquestioning obedience to his will, expressed or implied. He deleted them because they exceeded their authority. They could have had those girls, had they cleared it with Ragna in advance. Instead, they presumed. Ragna has little tolerance for presumption.”

“They didn't ask,” Cyrus said, appreciating the distinction.

“They lost track of their place,” Lullaby agreed. “A smart and loyal Minion never does that.”

“You are such a minion,” Cyrus said.

“Indeed, and you are free to leave it uncapitalized as long as you are not one yourself. Are you now amenable to joining the new order?”

“No.”

“You are honest and direct. That's good. Ragna needs officials of that description.”

“No. I am not honest and direct, I am concealing the nature of my devious relationship with these girls.”

“As you have to, in the present order. Let's move on. We have been aware of your mission and movements throughout. We did not expect the other city elders to recruit you. If I do not succeed, I will forward you to one who will.”

“What do you think my mission is?”

“To destroy Ragna Roc.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because your mission started with the Good Magician. He is laboring to find a way to stop Ragna's advance without danger to himself. So he made this your Service to him. That's the way he works. Thereafter we have tracked you via the spy we have in your midst.”

Cyrus had thought he was recovering ground, but this dropped it from under him again. “A spy?”

Lullaby laughed. “So you see, nothing has been secret. The Roc has seen you coming throughout. At first he sent a curse after you, but that seems to have gotten lost.”

“There was a curse,” Cyrus agreed. “But our producer is a Curse Friend, and he defused it. It wasn't very effective anyway. I understand it was a used one.”

“That was common cents.”

He was startled again. “What?”

She brought out several small copper coins. “Hold these. They facilitate reasoning.” She handed them to him.

He looked at them. They were completely ordinary mundane pennies, dull and worn. Common cents.

“It made cents to use a used spell,” Cyrus said. “Not only was it cheaper, it couldn't be traced to its source. If it worked, good enough; if not, little was lost.”

“You see, common cents helped you work it out.”

“It wasn't directed at me, but at the greatest danger to Ragna,” Cyrus continued. “Evidently, I'm not it.”

“Evidently.” she agreed, taking back the pennies. Now it was clear why she was so logical; she had the cents. “I have little belief in the efficacy of mindless curses. I expect to do a better job.”

“Regardless, I am not signing up with Ragna,” Cyrus said.

“You can't escape him. You are not an Escape Pea.”

“A what?”

She brought out a small pod. “These. Consider them.” She handed the pod to him.

It popped open as he took it, and the peas rolled out. He tried to grab them, but they cleverly avoided his hand and spilled onto the floor. Rhythm and Kadence tried to catch them, but they danced around and got away.

“Escape Peas,” Cyrus said. “You are right; I'm not clever at escapes the way they are.”

“It's their talent. Every person has his talent. I like Dale's.”

“Who?”

“Dale. He's one of our citizens. His talent is to knock the socks off people. You can tell when he's annoyed, because everyone in the neighborhood is barefooted, or at least sockless.”

“She's teasing us,” Rhythm said tightly.

“She should try it on the Good Magician,” Kadence tittered. “He has more socks than anyone.”

“I think it is time for us to go,” Cyrus said.

“By no means,” Lullaby said. “You must stay the night, all of you. In the morning I will give you a tour of the city, beginning with our hydraponics pool.”

This was a word not in his data bank. “What kind of pool?”

“Hydraponics. We grow hydras from nothing but water,” Lullaby explained. “Some have seven heads, others nine heads. They are really quite impressive.”

That did it. Cyrus stood to go. “We are not interested.”

Lullaby shrugged. “Sleep on it, and we'll discuss it further in the morning.”

“I have no intention of—” He broke off, for she was doing something odd. She was making a sound, like a sustained note, or a croon. In fact, she was singing.

Then he became aware of the slackening grips on his two hands. He looked, and discovered that both Rhythm and Kadence had fallen asleep beside him.

“I am named for my talent,” Lullaby explained. “I sing people to sleep. Now carry them to the bed, so they can rest comfortably. This way.” She stood and walked to a doorway.

There seemed to be little else to do except what she asked. He couldn't carry both girls at once, and couldn't leave them alone in this house. He had to stay with them. He stood, bent to pick up Rhythm, and carried her in the direction Lullaby was going. This turned out to be a fancy bedroom with a huge soft bed. He laid the girl down on it, hoping she would be all right. She slept throughout; the enchantment was strong. Then he went back and picked up Kadence, and laid her beside Rhythm.

“That's good,” Lullaby said. “They have a knight light.” So it seemed; it was in the shape of a glowing mounted knight.

“What are you trying to do?” Cyrus demanded.

She smiled. “You are such a handsome man. You must have a fans club.”

Cyrus drew yet another blank. “A what?”

“To beat off obsessed fans.”

Oh. “No.”

“Now you may if you wish join me in my bed, or sleep here.”

“I am not joining you.”

“Just verifying.” She resumed her singing.

“I won't—”

When he woke, it was morning. He was lying beside the two girls, who were now stirring.

“What happened?” Rhythm asked.

“Her talent is to sing folk to sleep. She put us down for the night.”

“That's all?”

“All I know of. I slept too. She was demonstrating her power.”

“Let's get out of here.”

“If she lets us.”

“Make her forget,” she murmured.

Good idea. They walked out the doorway, and into the main part of the palace.

Lullaby intercepted them. “Ah, you are up. It is time for breakfast.” She gestured to a set table. “I have blue bread and gray V. But watch the Mugs; they will steal from you if you aren't careful. You don't want to get Mugged.”

“No thanks,” Cyrus said, refusing to ask about the food, “We're returning to the troupe.”

“Not yet.” She started to sing.

Cyrus made her forget her intent. By the time she remembered, the three of them were back on the street and walking rapidly away from the castle.

“Well done,” Rhythm murmured, “I didn't want to show my power.”

“Don't even speak of it,” he murmured back, “Their spy might be near.”

You're right, she thought. Who is that spy? She doesn't know. She gets her information from a little bird.

A little bird! He had to smile. But he knew she meant it literally, and it did make sense: Ragna was after all a bird. A big bird, but a bird. He would have bird allies.

“Who could be the spy?” Kadence echoed, evidently receiving the thought too, “Nobody in the troupe would betray us.”

“That's my impression,” Cyrus said.

“Mine too,” Rhythm said.

They continued to mull it over, mostly silently, as they walked. They were sure that none of the regular troupe members would do it. But what about the peripheral ones? And there they zeroed in on a possibility. Dusty! Rhythm thought.

Dusty had associated with Piper, and with his big sister Dusti. They would have shared troupe gossip with him. And that was Lullaby's information: troupe gossip. Most troupe members did not know or even suspect Rhythm's identity. Or that she used the Decade spell to age herself for an hour at a time. Or that Kadence was their daughter. So the real secrets had been maintained. That was good.

Dusti and Piper would not have realized that Dusty was a spy; they were innocent. But why would Dusty join the Roc?

Orienta! Rhythm thought. The Roc must have promised him a nice girlfriend— and delivered.