Two To The Fifth (32 page)

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Authors: Piers Anthony

Tags: #Humor, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Young Adult

BOOK: Two To The Fifth
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Squawk. “We have telepaths. It was in Princess Rhythm's mind.”

And there had been opportunity for telepaths to get close to Rhythm, as she toured the premises.

“Ragna saw us coming,” Cyrus said. “But why would he welcome his worst enemies to his home? That's dangerous.”

Squawk. “It is fated,” Em said. “The climactic battle between the god and the mortals must come, to decide which shall govern hereafter. Ragna welcomes that decision, though it destroy much of what currently exists.”

“Welcomes it?” Cyrus was having trouble assimilating this.

Squawk. Cyrus was beginning to hear the translations as part of the squawk. Maybe he was learning roc language.

“The suspense is uncomfortable,” Em said. “He would rather have it done with. It is better to have the battle at a time and location convenient to him, than to wait until the enemy precipitates it at a time convenient to the enemy.”

“I suppose so,” Cyrus said. “But it seems the Princesses have been as eager to get to it as he is.”

“Yes, we are,” Melody said.

“We are uncomfortable with indecision too,” Harmony agreed.

“The issue must be settled,” Rhythm concluded.

The enormous beak twitched in the suggestion of a smile. Squawk. “And the three of you have never found any magic to match your merged power. You want to test it against a worthy opponent.”

“Of course not,” Melody said insincerely.

“We never considered that,” Harmony agreed dubiously.

“We're not like that,” Rhythm concluded skeptically.

Squawk. “Such a pleasure to deal with children. I am now too old to have such certainty about anything. Do you believe them, Cyrus?' ”

“No.” And somehow the bird had found a way to put the two of them on the same side. The two of them? “Oh, no!”

The three Princesses looked at him suspiciously. “What?” Melody demanded angrily.

“You don't think we're up to it?” Harmony asked grimly.

“I thought you loved me.” Rhythm said tearfully.

Squawk! None of them needed the translator's smirk to recognize the laughter.

“None of the above,” Cyrus said hastily. Now they had him embellishing with adverbs too. “It's that we may have misinterpreted the prediction.”

“Two to the Fifth,” Em said, not needing the squawk.

“We don't understand,” Melody said, definitely not amused.

“The Good Magicians words are meant to be confused,” Harmony agreed, certainly without mirth.

“So what the bleep are you talking about?” Rhythm concluded, positively annoyed.

Her two sisters, Cyrus, Em, and the Roc all looked at her, startled. She was, after all, a child, and a female one at that. She should never had heard the word, let alone understood it or been able to utter it.

“So to speak,” Rhythm amended, embarrassed.

“Methinks somebody has had too much adult experience,” Melody said.

“And remembered too much of it,” Harmony agreed.

Rhythm opened her mouth. A wisp of steam emerged.

“What I mean,” Cyrus said before she could speak, “is that we assumed that the Two were Rhythm and me. The question was who was the Fifth, which we thought was probably Ragna Roc. But suddenly I'm agreeing with Ragna against the three of you. As if he and I are the Two in this party of Five, and the three of you fill out the Five. That daunts me.”

The three Princesses looked dismayed.

“Oh, no,” Melody said, horrified.

“It can not be,” Harmony agreed, appalled.

“You were always true to me,” Rhythm concluded, distressed.

Squawk. “If Cyrus joins Ragna, Rhythm will not oppose the Roc.” Em translated. “He will win by default.”

“I'm not joining Ragna!” Cyrus exclaimed. “I just am not sure about that prophecy.”

Squawk. “We had better fathom it,” Em said. “I think we are agreed that it signals the victor in this war.”

“War?” Cyrus asked.

“The war between the god and the mortals. Whose final climactic battle will settle the issue for all time. The battle between Ragna and the combined magic might of the three most potent Sorceresses Xanth has to offer.”

Oh. That war.

“And it seems that the first to fathom the real meaning of the prophecy will win that battle,” Cyrus said.

Squawk. “Again we are agreed. But as we know, it can be avoided if you will join me. There need be no ugliness at all.”

“Why are you talking with us, instead of blasting away at the Princesses?”

Squawk. “That is not the way such things are done. There is a protocol. Also, I would much rather have the Princesses serving me, than deleted. Their merged power is surely second only to my own. And we have not yet enjoyed your plays.”

Cyrus shook his head, bemused. “You would delay the final battle so as to watch a play?”

Squawk. “Indubitably. It won't be possible to watch them after the battle. Either I will be gone, or all of you will be gone.”

That put it in chill perspective. “How do any of us know someone won't cheat? A sneak attack, or something?”

Squawk. “Surprise is impossible. We have been feeling each other out throughout.”

Cyrus looked at the Princesses. They slowly nodded, together. Now he felt the tingling atmosphere of powerful magic. They were already in the battle, or at least the preliminaries of it. It hardly seemed to matter that it was a bird against children; it was sheer brutal magic force.

“Then suppose we schedule this final confrontation for the day after the last play.” Cyrus said. “That is, the fourth day hence?” And realized as he spoke that this made it a five day event. The battle on the Fifth?

Squawk. “And ponder the prophecy in the interim,” Ragna agreed.

The three Princesses nodded again, in concert. They seemed slightly distracted, and he realized it was because of the stress of opposing magic.

“Agreed,” Cyrus said.

Squawk. “And if the prophecy turns out to favor me, the offer remains open, for you and the Princesses. Meanwhile, you have the freedom of Castle Rock Candy. Enjoy yourselves.”

“Thank you.”

Ragna closed his eyes, dismissing them. Em Pathy smiled. “That went well. Ragna likes you.” She walked along the ledge to the exit.

Their guides appeared. It was time to return to the camp.

Now the girls relaxed. “That was interesting.” Melody said.

“He's very strong,” Harmony agreed.

“Maybe too strong,” Rhythm concluded.

“How can you say that?” Cyrus demanded. All of them were ignoring their guides, as there was nothing secret remaining.

They turned a triply serious gaze on him. At this moment, none of them seemed childish. “We have to assess the matter accurately,” Melody said.

“Because to do otherwise would be to invite disaster,” Harmony agreed.

“And his power is equivalent to ours,” Rhythm concluded.

Cyrus was taken aback. “To your cubed power?”

They nodded in concert again.

“And if he can defeat the three of you, there is no other magic in Xanth that could oppose him?”

“Only one,” Melody said.

“The Demon Xanth,” Harmony agreed.

“And he won't interfere,” Rhythm concluded.

“And the prophecy Two to the Fifth is the key to victory,” Cyrus said.

“You had better figure it out soon,” Melody said.

“Within three days,” Harmony agreed.

“Before the final battle,” Rhythm concluded. “Now, if we are through being triplets, why don't the two of you go tour the castle?”

“Nuh-uh,” Melody said.

“He'll never figure out anything if you have at him,” Harmony agreed. “Those decade-aged panties are deadly.”

“Bleep,” Rhythm concluded. This time the other two laughed, together. They definitely knew more about panties than girls their age were supposed to. The Adult Conspiracy was surely struggling to keep some sort of restraint on them.

Thus it was that Cyrus returned to his cottage, alone. Rhythm would not be visiting him tonight. “Bleep,” he echoed.

“She's right,” Melete said. “You have to focus on the prophecy. That's the key.”

“But there are so many ways it can be interpreted! I'm at a loss.” Actually they were talking silently, so as not to alert listening spies about either his thoughts or Melete's existence as more than an inert block.

“Cyrus, you are the creative one in this troupe. You write the plays. You have to work this out. No one else can do it. Not even the Roc, it seems.” She was nagging him, as was her wont. He had long since ceased resenting it, as her constant prodding was largely responsible for his success as a playwright. He might be creative, but she was the one who kept him at it. Without that writer's block he would never have made it.

“The Princesses say that his power matches theirs. How can an obscure prophecy have any effect?”

“That is for you to discover,” she said firmly. “The fate of Xanth may depend on it.”

He tried to focus. “I suppose if the sides were evenly matched, any slight tilt could decide it.”

“Keep working it out,” she agreed.

“Two to the Fifth. If Two's not Rhythm and me, who is it?”

“Does it matter? You're both here regardless. It's the Fifth that's the real mystery.”

So it seemed. “It has to be the fifth of some series.”

“Why?”

That stopped him. “Why not?”

“It could be anything.”

Cyrus groaned. “Like a fifth of whiskey? The Mundane Fifth amendment about not incriminating yourself?” He paused. “That's tempting. Could it get me out of trouble associating with a child? What about the Fifth Commandment, to honor your father and your mother? Only I'm a father now, and Rhythm is a mother. How can that relate to defeating the Roc?”

“Don't dismiss anything,” Melete warned. “It may relate in a way we haven't yet thought of.”

“Then there's math: two to the fifth power. That's thirty-two. That has nothing to do with anything.”

“Oh, I'm sure the Muse of History could think of something.”

“What about the fifth dimension?”

“What is that?”

“I'm not sure. My data bank says a dimension is any measurable extent or quality, and specifies four: length, breadth, depth, and duration.”

“Space and time,” Melete agreed. “You need one more.”

“Well, there's mass. You can measure it in the form of weight or inertia. A rock and a puffball may be the same size, but the rock has a lot more mass, so has more impact. Without at least some mass, a thing would not exist, any more than if it were missing one of the other dimensions. It might look the same, but it wouldn't be real.”

“What would it be?”

“Illusion.”

Then he paused, a revelation spreading through him. “Illusion! That's what Ragna Roc makes of real people. He deletes their mass!”

“He uses the fifth dimension,” Melete agreed.

“We have figured out the Fifth! The fifth dimension! It is the Roc's power!”

“I believe we have,” Melete agreed, “So maybe you and Rhythm have to find a way to nullify that power.”

“But the Princesses can't just block it; they say Ragna is as strong as they are.”

“In a straight contest of magical power,” Melete agreed. “That is surely where the prophecy comes in: to point out a way to nullify the Roc's power.”

“But if Rhythm and I are the Two, and even all three Princesses can't nullify the Fifth, what is left?”

“You are left. The Princesses can oppose the Roc without any clear decision. You must be the missing factor.”

“And what can I do? All I've done so far is mess up Rhythm's life by providing her with a daughter. And Kadence is a fluke, not supposed to exist at her age for another sixteen or seventeen years.”

“She's like another illusion,” Melete agreed.

“Yes. She should exist only in our imagination, but instead she's solid. As though she has been undeleted, A gift of the fifth dimension.”

Then Cyrus and Melete exchanged a glance of sheer wonder. “Could she be the key?” Melete asked.

“But her talent doesn't relate. She makes folk march in step. That won't stop the Roc.”

Melete nodded. “There must be something else.”

May I say something?

It was Anona, the Pique Ant. Cyrus had put her in his pocket and completely forgotten her.

“Of course, Anona,” Melete said.

“You two know each other?” Cyrus asked.

“We communed when you brought her home,” Melete said. “We're both telepathic. It helps. She's a nice person.”

Cyrus felt guilty for forgetting her. “What do you wish to say?”

I have picked up on your discussions, and pondered the matter of Ragna's weakness. It seems to me that maybe he can't delete something twice. He's never done it, as far as you have heard.

Cyrus considered. “That's right. That Minion he deleted, then undeleted, he didn't delete again, but banished him instead. I thought he just didn't want to hurt someone unnecessarily.”

“Yet he had no compunctions deleting an entire innocent village,” Melete said.

So maybe he didn't do it out of compassion, which he seems to lack, but because he couldn't, Anona thought. If so, that's a weakness, isn't it?

“A huge one,” Cyrus agreed, “If we could just figure out a way to use it against him.”

Well. I thought that maybe if you build a big cage out of undeleted material and put him in it, he couldn't escape. That would defeat him, wouldn't it?

“Build a cage of undeleted material,” Cyrus echoed, “Confining him. Maybe a big egg shell so he couldn't see out of it. That just might do it. But how could that be done? He's not going to just sit around while we collect all that loose material and assemble it. He'll delete anyone who tries.”

I thought maybe we ants could do that. He wouldn't even notice us, and we're very good at collecting and assembling. Except we're somewhat disorganized, so it would take a long time.

“We don't have a long time.”

“But we do have Kadence,” Melete reminded him.

“Whose talent is organization!” he agreed. “She could direct a mound of ants to do it in hours instead of months.”

“And Ragna would never suspect, because he wouldn't see the ants and Kadence is just a child who shouldn't exist,” Melete said.

“I think we've got it,” Cyrus agreed, “Our secret weapon is a person from the fifth dimension. Except that all we have is one ant.”

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