xanth 40 - isis orb (7 page)

“Sharp?”

“Try it.” She broke off a section and handed it to him.

He tried it. It was so sharp he almost cut his tongue. “Hoo!” he agreed. “What kind is it?”

“Swiss Army Cheese, I believe. Sharp like a knife with multiple blades.”

“Sharp,” he agreed.

As darkness closed they sat together in the tent. They still had the two kits, ready to use them at need.

“So who sleeps here?” he asked, just in case she meant to use it herself.

“We both do.”

“But—”

“Don’t be concerned. I will assume my cat form to sleep.”

Oh. Of course. “Uh, should we take turns keeping watch? In case there are beasts?”

“No need. I sleep lightly. I will know if anything approaches, and will alert you. Then you can play to drive it away.”

“But wouldn’t you be safer, even so, up in a tree?”

“Not necessarily. There are predators in trees, too. A dragon could come and toast me, for example.”

That was another thing he hadn’t thought of. “I suppose so.”

“Or an autocrat.”

“A what?”

“AutocRat,” she repeated, pronouncing it carefully. “A tyrannical rat that has it in for cats.”

“Oh.” As usual, he had no clever comment.

“Are you sleepy yet?”

“No. It will take me time to unwind.” He refrained from saying that sitting so close to her curves was part of what was winding him up.

“Me too. So now must be the time for our histories.”

“Our whats?”

“We didn’t just come into existence when we met. Tell me your personal life history and I’ll tell you mine. That way there should be fewer nasty surprises as we tackle the Quest. If those narrations don’t bore us to sleep, maybe we can play games of tic-tac-toe.”

He laughed. “I like the way your mind works.”

“What, something other than my curves?”

Why did she have to spoil it? “Yes,” he agreed shortly.

“You first.”

“I’m pretty simple, as you already know,” he said with attempted irony he knew wasn’t working well. “I was delivered twenty one years ago to a beefsteak tomato farmer who made a good living providing steaks to others. I was, I suppose—” He hesitated.

“Was what?” she prompted.

He plowed on. “A disappointment. I wasn’t especially smart or handsome, and my talent was a waste. Also, I was sort of stubborn.”

“Another name for gumption, maybe.”

“Maybe. So when I grew old enough to live on my own, I moved out and spent my time conjuring every different kind of musical instrument I could think of, in the hope that, well, you know. They fade out after a day or so, so they didn’t clutter the house. Then the Good Magician visited me and urged me to undertake a Quest.”

“He didn’t just promise that you’d find your playable instrument,” she said wisely. “What else was there?”

He had to answer, now that she had put it directly. “He said that I’d have two or maybe even three girlfriends, one of whom would be a bad girl.”

“Two or three?” she asked in a chilly tone.

“Well, I never had a girlfriend,” he said defensively. “Maybe they’re backlogged.”

“And you think about the bad girl. Who is she?”

“Maybe the Goddess Isis. Though I can’t think why she’d have any interest in me.”

“That is a curiosity,” she agreed.

“And he said I might make a difference in Xanth, apart from helping five other folk to realize their wishes. So I’m here.”

She nodded. “You couldn’t say no. Because underneath all your ineptitude and stubbornness you’re a decent guy.”

“I hope so.”

“My turn. Twenty years ago my mother was lost in the forest; she had taken a wrong turn and couldn’t find the right one. She was frightened and thirsty, so when she came across a small clear pond she squatted down to dip out some water with her hand and sip it. It gave her a really odd feeling. Then a tomcat came, chasing a rabbit. The rabbit leaped right over the pond, and the cat fell in, just as the cunning bunny had intended. Mother went to help him get out, because cats don’t usually swim well. Too late they both realized that it was a love spring.”

“Ooh, my,” Hapless breathed.

“Right. By the time they scrambled out of the water, they had signaled the stork several times. They couldn’t help it; love springs don’t take no for an answer. Tom ran off into the brush, and Mom waded out the other side. She found a path and made her way home, but in due course the stork found her—they can be uncanny about such things—and delivered me. This was awkward because Mom wasn’t married and she had told no one about her incident in the spring. That made her a bit of a pariah, because the other villagers suspected. She had to raise me alone. It didn’t help that I had this weird hair.”

“I think it’s pretty.”

“What, as pretty as my—”

“Stop it! I’m not trying to insult you. You won’t let me be positive.”

She considered that. “I guess maybe I am a bit oversensitive. All the boys teased me cruelly about my hair. It didn’t help that when I discovered my talent, which is to assume either human or feline form, my cat fur was the same color as my hair. Sure it made sense, but I wish both had been ordinary dull brown. I alternated weeks with my father, who worked in the Catnip and Catapult Works, but he didn’t take me to work with him because the cats razzed him about my colors; he was ashamed of me, and blamed it on my mother. My mother blamed it on my father. I don’t know where my colors came from. Whoever heard of a blue cat, let alone a blue striped one? So it wasn’t much of a childhood or kitten-hood. At times I wished they’d never run afoul of that love spring.”

“You had it worse than I did,” Hapless said. “I’d have felt the same way.”

She flashed him a smile of appreciation in the darkness; he felt its brief warmth. “Then when I came of age I got my curves, in both my forms. Then the boys’ attitudes changed, but not for the better. Now all they wanted was to get their hands or whatever on my curves. But I knew them, and remembered their endless taunts. They were not worth my while. If there had been one halfway decent male among them in childhood, I might have been satisfied to let him touch my curves, but there had been none. It wasn’t any better with the local tomcats; all they wanted was one thing, and they meant to have it regardless of my own wishes. They were not at all subtle; they just wanted to jump on and in. I got into some really awful fights defending my so-called honor. I’d almost have been better off moving to the isle of Exsangui Nation, where vampires lurk; most residents die of blood loss. So now when some man even looks at my curves, I remember all that nasty teasing, and I—I react.”

“I’m sorry,” Hapless said. “I can’t even claim that I would have been different; I teased girls too, and now they don’t want to have anything to do with me. So my understanding is too late, for me or for you.”

“The irony is that I’d really like to have a loving relationship with a good man. But I just can’t trust any man, so it turns me off anything like that.”

“I understand, I think.” If only he had known
not
to look at her that way!

“So then I read a tea leaf, and it said I should go into the forest here and wait, and my problem would be solved. So I did, not knowing exactly what to expect. But I certainly didn’t expect you.”

“I’m not much of an expectation,” Hapless agreed.

“I didn’t mean it that way. At least now you know why I was cautious about you and why I still don’t want you to touch me.”

“I understand,” he agreed sadly.

“I can’t turn off my prior life. It governs me.”

“So does mine, pretty much. But I think—now please don’t take this the wrong way—that maybe we can understand each other, and maybe in time come to trust each other.”

“I am struggling not to take that the wrong way,” she said. “I can see that you’re pretty innocent, and probably don’t mean any harm. But you do look.”

“I do look,” he admitted. “I’m trying not to, but whenever I’m not concentrating, my eyes do their own thing.”

“Well, maybe that’s progress. Are we sleepy yet?”

“Maybe if we lie down and close our eyes?”

“Let’s try it.” She shifted into cat form and closed her eyes.

Hapless lay down beside her in the tent and did the same.

To his surprise, he dropped right off to sleep. The events of the day must have tired him more than he realized.

He woke to a nudge. Feline was beside him, in all her human curves; he could feel them against his side. “Nickelpedes!” she whispered. “Play your kit!”

Nickelpedes! Those little bugs were a terror by day or night, because they gouged out nickel-sized chucks of flesh from tender anatomy. He scrambled to a sitting position in the darkness, then fumbled for his little violin in his pack. He found the bow. He put it to the instrument and played. Wouldn’t this be an awful time for his musical talent to improve!

He need not have worried about that. Foul notes screeched out, sounding like fingernails practically ripping apart a blackboard. He felt Feline clapping her hands to her ears. He kept playing, hoping it was even worse for the nickelpedes.

There was an angry clicking of little claws as the nickelpedes milled about, balked. Then they retreated, unable to handle the dreadful sounds. It was working.

“You did it!” Feline exclaimed, and kissed him on the ear. That was an unexpected thrill.

“I guess I did,” he agreed, putting away the violin. “I never thought to use my lack of musical talent that way, until you suggested it. Thank you.”

“You like my suggestion,” she said, sounding pleased.

“Yes. Actually I like you too.” He felt her stiffen beside him, and hurried on. “When you kissed me just now, I liked it, and I can’t even see your curves.”

“But you know they’re there.”

Why had he even mentioned them? “Yes. So I guess that spoils it. But it was a good suggestion.”

She was silent a moment, pondering. “So you liked my kiss because of my curves. But you liked my suggestion because it helped save us from the little monsters.”

“Yes, to both.”

“I guess that’s half a loaf. If you discover anything else you like about me, let me know.”

“Gladly. I don’t suppose you’d let me kiss
you
on the ear?”

“No,” she said coldly.

Bleep. He had lost it again.

“Wait! Don’t be mad. You—you said your eyes do what they want; you can’t help it. Well, my reactions are like that. I know you were just trying to be friendly, and I froze you out. I’m sorry. Go ahead; kiss me on the ear.”

He wasn’t sure how to handle this. Would she be mad if he did, or if he didn’t? So he compromised by being honest. “Feline, I don’t know which way you want it, and I don’t want to upset you either way. I don’t have much experience with girls, and you’re complicated regardless. Tell me what to do so it’s all right.”

“You really don’t know?”

“I really don’t. I’m a klutz, I know that much, but I’m trying to learn.”

“Kiss me.”

He was surprised; he had expected to be bawled out for his incomprehension. He didn’t argue; he turned his face toward where he felt her in the dark and kissed where her ear should be, sort of hunt and peck.

Only it wasn’t her ear he met. It was her mouth. She had turned her head.

He thought he would float out of the tent. It was amazing. Cylla had kissed him, but this was better.

Then it ended, and he sank back down to the ground. “Oh, my,” he breathed.

“Someone kissed you before,” she said. “Who?”

He remained dazed. “Her name was Cylla Cybin. Her talent was hallucination. But I think I hallucinated again, just now.”

“So I’m your second kiss.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, yours was better.”

“Thank you. Don’t get ideas.”

“I got ideas. I can’t help it,” he admitted, ashamed.

“Well, keep them to yourself.” But she did not actually seem annoyed.

“I will.”

“I am thawing a bit.”

“I’m glad.”

“Something else is coming. Something big.”

Hapless grabbed for his kit.

“Two things,” she said. “Big snakes. I’m not sure whether they like music or dissonance.”

“We need to know,” he said. “If we play the wrong kind, we’ll get eaten.”

“I know. But we don’t have to guess. We’ll both play.”

“Good idea!”

They sat side by side, each with a violin. Two gross serpentine shapes loomed before them, visible mainly by their glowing eyes. The eyes were set distressingly far apart; these were huge creatures.

Hapless and Feline played their kits, the sweet and sour notes together. The four eyes ahead blinked in unison, confused. Then they retreated and were gone.

“It worked!” Feline said.

“Your idea worked again.”

“Are you angling for another kiss?”

“No. But I would have if I’d thought of it in time.”

“Well, you get one. Do it.”

He kissed where her head was. This time he landed on her ear. She was teasing him. The odd thing was that he liked it just about as well. But his experience with Cylla had taught him that seeing a girl or kissing her did not necessarily make for a permanent relationship, however nice she might be.

Then she reverted to feline form and purred herself to sleep. He lay down beside her and slept also.

He woke before her in the morning, surprised to see her in her human form. How long had she been that way?

“You’re a fun girl,” he murmured, and drew himself out of the tent. He went to the stream, stripped, and washed himself off.

When he emerged from the water, there was Feline watching him. It was too late to be embarrassed, so he simply climbed back into his clothes without comment.

She stripped her clothes and waded into the water while he averted his gaze. So her clothing was separate, despite becoming her fur when she was a cat. Her blouse was blue, her skirt white, her slippers one of each color. He hadn’t noticed before, being too obsessed with her curves. Now he saw also that her bra was white, her panties blue. It was nice clothing.

“Oh, take a peek,” she said.

He turned and looked, she was absolutely lovely in her nudity. Then he dutifully looked away again, and went about foraging for breakfast. Nudity did not guarantee a full relationship either.