xanth 40 - isis orb (25 page)

“It was my fault!” Myst cried. “You told me not to wander off.”

“That’s why I hope to marry,” Merge said. “It takes two to raise a child properly.”

“How did you come to adopt Myst?” Faro asked.

“That is a story that would fill a book by itself. But greatly simplified, my friend Astrid rescued five children from the future, and then the members of our Quest adopted them. I took Myst, and I love her, but she can be a challenge.”

“I sure can,” Myst said proudly.

“Maybe you should demonstrate, dear,” Merge said fondly.

“Sure. Say you want me to take a bath, and I don’t want to. You can’t even catch me.”

“Oh, I think I could,” Feline said, smiling.

“Try it, Aunt Feline.”

Aunt Feline?

Feline walked toward the child. Myst backed off. Feline pounced, wrapping her arms about her. Myst slipped through her grasp and floated away. She had become a patch of mist!

“That’s her talent,” Merge said. “It’s what made her hard to adopt. All the children were difficult.”

Myst reformed. “See?”

“Now I see,” Feline said ruefully. “But what’s this about you being from the future?”

“Xanth was going to be destroyed in fifty years,” Merge said. “So Astrid and Fornax brought the children back so they wouldn’t perish.”

“Fornax?” Faro asked. “Is that a coincidence of names?”

“No. She’s the Demoness Fornax, from the antimatter galaxy. But she helped Astrid, maybe because in a way they are similar.”

“Similar?”

“Well, Astrid isn’t a Demoness, or even a demoness. She’s a basilisk.”

“A basilisk!” Faro exclaimed. “Their very look can kill!”

“Yes. So she wears dark glasses. She’s really a very nice person, quite beautiful, and my friend. So is Fornax, actually.” She turned to face Hapless. “I know it’s too late and all, after the Love Knot, but before you marry me you have to know that in addition to the challenge of my daughter, I have some unusual friends you may not much like. You’d probably be better off with Feline.”

“If I have a choice,” Hapless said wryly.

“Yes. So maybe I’d better go away now and not complicate your Quest or your life.”

“No!” The odd thing was that it wasn’t Hapless who spoke—it was Myst. That was most interesting.

So it was Hapless’s turn. “I can’t let you go, Merge. I love you. But I love Feline too. I think I need time to consider.”

“I don’t think I could walk away anyway,” Merge confessed. She turned to the child. “But dear, what is he to you? You hardly know him.”

“He’s got the Xylo, Xylo—bonger. I can’t play it without him.”

Was that really her reason? Or did she truly want a father?

“Then I think you should come with us,” Feline said carefully. “So we can get to know each other better. At least until we enter the dangerous Region of Water. Would you want to do that?”

Merge closed her eyes. “I wish that when he lies down to sleep at night, you could hold his right hand and I could hold his left hand.”

“You actually want to share him?”

“You had him first. I don’t want to interfere with that. But I do want to be near him. So yes, sharing seems to be in order.”

Feline glanced at Faro. “What do you think?”

“Given the situation, this seems fair. Merge didn’t choose to love Hapless; fate decreed it.”

“I’m the interloper,” Feline said. “I wasn’t fated. I was just there. And I’m still not sure he’s right for me.”

“I don’t understand,” Merge said.

“Feline wants to be loved for something other than her curves,” Faro explained. “Hapless likes her curves.”

“Well of course he does. He’s a man. What else would he be interested in?”

“Her personality?”

“He’s a
man
,” Merge repeated. That seemed to settle it.

Actually, Hapless liked Feline’s personality very well. But it was hard to separate it from her curves.

“We have to rejoin our group,” Feline said. “Come walk with us, Merge.”

“Can I ride the horsie?” Myst asked.

“That’s a winged centaur, dear, not a horse.”

“Come here, Myst,” Faro said. She picked the girl up, swung her around, and set her down just forward of the wings. The child was thrilled.

“But your xylophone,” Merge said, going to pick it up.

“Don’t bother,” Hapless said. “I’ll conjure another when she wants it. They only last a day anyway.”

“This interests me,” Merge said. “You can conjure any musical instrument?”

“As far as I know. But I can’t play any. Yet. I have to believe that there is one for me, if I can only find it.”

“Have you considered singing? The voice is a musical instrument of a sort.”

“Maybe that’s it,” Feline said. “Hapless, try conjuring a song.”

This seemed crazy, but he tried.

A girl appeared. She opened her mouth and sang.

“You conjured a
person
?” Merge asked. “A singer?”

“I—I never tried that before. I didn’t know it would happen.”

“Who are you, child?” Feline asked the girl when she finished her song.

“I’m Monti. I’m not a child; I’m thirteen. How did I get here?”

“It seems that Hapless conjured you. He conjures musical instruments.”

“Oh.” The girl looked at Hapless, clearly unimpressed. “I’ll be on my way.” She turned to go.

“One detail, Monti,” Feline said. “His conjurations last only a day. Then they go back where they came from.”

“Oh, bleep!” the girl swore. “Then I’d better make the most of it.” She walked away, singing.

“Life is full of surprises,” Merge said.

“Do you fancy a musical instrument?” Feline inquired.

Merge laughed. “I’ve been too busy mopping up anti-pun virus patches to think about anything like that. Now we seem to be catching up and I can start relaxing.” She pondered briefly. “Myst likes the Xylophone. Maybe that would do for me too. An adult one.”

“Let’s find out,” Feline said. “Hapless?”

Hapless conjured a full sized marimba on a stand. “Oh, my!” Merge said, amazed. “That’s beyond all my expectations. I would be incompetent to play it.”

“Try it anyway,” Feline said wisely.

“If you wish.” Merge picked up the sticks and tentatively touched them to the wood. A lovely pair of notes sounded. Surprised, she tried again, and soon was playing a pretty melody.

“That seems to be part of Hapless’s talent,” Feline said. “Anyone playing one of his instruments in his presence is gifted, but not when he’s absent. He finds it most frustrating.”

“I should think so. His talent seems to be designed to tease him,” Merge agreed, sending him a sympathetic look. He was already in love with her, but that look would have moved him regardless.

“We’d better move on before the others double back to look for us,” Faro said.

They walked on, generally westward, Feline and Merge chatting amiably. They were definitely getting along, though Hapless suspected that with women that could be deceptive.

Then there came a voice from the south. “Hallooo!”

“Oh, that’s Astrid!” Merge said. “She must be worried because I didn’t return to check in.”

“The basilisk?” Faro asked sharply.

“Yes. But don’t be concerned.” Merge put her hands to her mouth and called back. “Hallooo!”

In barely over a moment and a half the other women appeared, trailed by an eleven-year-old boy. The woman did wear dark glasses. The two hugged.

Then Merge turned to introduce them to each other. “This is my dear friend Astrid, and her son Firenze. And these are Feline, Faro, and Hapless, my beloved.”

“Your what?” Astrid asked. She was phenomenally shapely, an astonishing beauty.

“Oh, I should explain. These kind folk rescued Myst when she got lost. Then when I first saw Hapless, a Love Knot formed. It wasn’t something we planned on; it just happened. Worse, he already has a girlfriend.”

“Hello Hapless,” the basilisk lady said, looking as if she wanted to remove her glasses.

“Uh, hello,” he said incompetently.

“Hapless, Feline, and Faro are three members of a Quest to fulfill their wishes,” Merge said. “He conjures musical instruments but can’t play any himself. But he found a nice little Xylophone for Myst, and a nice big one for me. We can play them competently as long as he is near.”

“He’s nice, Aunt Astrid,” Myst pronounced. “Maybe he’ll be my new daddy.”

“You like him that well?” Astrid asked.

“Sure. It’s a real nice Xylo—bonger.”

Astrid’s mouth quirked. “That surely suffices, dear.” She was a basilisk? She really seemed quite human.

Now three more figures joined the group: Zed, Nya and Quin. This prompted another round of introductions.

“We’re glad you’re safe,” Zed said. “We turned back because you didn’t rejoin us, and we smelled a hostile dragon in the area.”

As if summoned by the mention, the dragon appeared. It was monstrous, as big as their two dragon forms combined. Quin and Nya instantly transformed to intercept it.

“Wait!” Astrid said. “There is no need for violence. I will send it away.”

“Dragons don’t readily send,” Zed said.

“Wait,” Myst said, smiling. “Aunt Astrid has her way.”

Astrid strode out toward the dragon. “Halt!” she cried.

The dragon, swooping down for a strafing run, was so amused by the challenge that it almost crashed. Then Astrid removed her glasses, catching it with a glancing glance. Then the dragon did crash.

Stunned by the glance, the dragon picked itself up and crawled away. It had learned about basilisks.

“It didn’t die,” Hapless said.

Astrid put her glasses back on and turned to him. “I looked at it with my peripheral vision, so it was jolted but not killed. I thought a warning would suffice.”

“It did,” Hapless said, impressed not only by her power but her discretion. She was, as Merge had said, a nice person.

“Aunt Astrid was honored by all the cele, celeb—important folk,” Myst said. “They all came and ap, appl—clapped. Even princesses. Even Demons.”

“No need to mention that, dear,” Astrid said modestly. “It was nothing, really.”

“Only saving five children, and Xanth,” Myst said, hugging her.

“I heard of that,” Zed said. “That was you?”

“That was her,” Myst said before Astrid could demur. “We all love her.”

Hapless looked at Merge, who nodded.

“Did you find the virus?” Astrid asked Myst, changing the subject.

“Oh, sure. I forgot. It’s just up ahead.”

“The virus?” Zed asked.

“Myst can sense the virus in the air, when she vaporizes,” Merge explained. “It’s very helpful. That’s why we are in this area; some patches remain.” They walked toward the area.

“I remember when the virus came,” Zed said. “We centaurs aren’t too partial to puns, but when they were suddenly gone, we missed them. Xanth is largely made of puns.”

“We have been eradicating the virus,” Merge said. “And restocking puns from the storage vault of Caprice Castle. It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.”

“There!” Myst cried, pointing. There was a line of something like fire, but instead of burning foliage it was turning puns into glop.

“Oh, it’s spreading!” Merge said. “I will have to fragment.” She split into her five component selves.

“I’ll help,” Feline said. “Just tell me how.”

“Take my urn,” the closest fragment said. This was Blue, with the long blue hair. “I’ll get another.” The urn, like the person, had become five. It seemed that it, unlike the clothing, was part of the magic.

Hapless had been too distracted by the lovely nude forms to think of helping. Now he did. “I—”

“Take mine,” Red said, handing him her red urn with a smile. She was just as pretty as Merge, but he discovered that he was not smitten with her despite her tantalizing nudity. She was incomplete; it was the full person he loved.

“How—”

“Just pour it on any area where the virus is operating. The elixir will do the rest.” Red moved on with a swirl of her flowing hair.

Hapless went to the line of change. A pretty round stone was just dissolving into slush. It was a pomegranite, a plant that fruited granite rock. He quickly poured elixir, too late to save the stone, but in time for the foot stool made of feet next to it. He felt a sense of accomplishment: he had saved a pun. Two puns: next to it was a pomegranate that was a small palm too, Palm of Granite, the sweet-tasting food for sculptors. He had also stopped the advance of the virus; the seeming fire no longer burned where the elixir had doused the ground.

Meanwhile the others were similarly busy. Feline managed to throw a wash of elixir in the air, saving several passing thoughts. They moved on, offering fleeting notions that could not quite be caught. One brushed by Hapless, and he did catch it: it consisted of numbered speech balloons. It was the Thought that Counts.

Zed, who admitted to not much liking puns, had just saved a mushroom: a room filled with mush. Had he not done so, there would have been no more room, just rotting mush. Faro saved a patch of Kumquats and Goquats that would force folk who ate them to compulsively come and go. Quin saved an outhouse, a cousin of the toilet tree, part of the family of waste treatment plants. That really stank! Nya just missed saving a Frayed Knot, unfortunately.

Then Hapless thought that Blue was before him, but instead it was a Blueberry Blonde, being pursued by the virus. He doused her with elixir, saving her from a fate worse than death: rotting glop.

Then suddenly it was done: they had wiped out the patch of virus, saving half a slew of puns. Now they all understood what Merge’s business was. The five iterations approached each other, their hair twined together, and they merged headfirst into Merge. “Thank you!” she said. “That was a bad one. Had we not caught it in time it could have spread into the whole area and left it desolate.”

“And thank you, Myst, for catching it,” Astrid said to the child. “Are there any more patches in this region?”

“No. This is the last one.”

“Then Firenze and I will rejoin the others.” Astrid and the boy walked back the way they had come.

“I should go with them,” Merge said wistfully.

“You can’t,” Feline said. “We’re still getting to know each other.”