Currant Events (33 page)

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Authors: Piers Anthony

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

BOOK: Currant Events
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 “Very soon,” Thesis agreed.
“Now that I have my life back, thanks to my beloved.” She kissed
Zaven again.

 

 Would the spancel do that for her, with
Sherlock? Was that why she had been directed to it? The notion was intriguing.
But she didn't have to take any hasty action, as long as the spancel remained
in her possession. If she used it on herself, she wouldn't be able to carry it
anymore, so it was best to wait.

 

 Within the hour there was a brief
wedding ceremony attended mostly by zombies. Then Zaven and Thesis returned to
her zombie chamber.

 

 “I love a good romance,”
Breanna said, mopping up a tear.

 

 “So do I,” Clio said, mopping
her own.

 

 “We'll have to let them be for the
night. I remember how it was with Justin. We-” Her eye fell on Ciriana.
“Were busy. Tomorrow you can be on your way. I'll assign a room for
you.” Breanna paused. “You are a couple?”

 

 “We can share a room,”
Sherlock said. “With Ciriana.”

 

 “Oh-one of those slow difficult
romances?”

 

 “So it seems,” Clio agreed.

 

 “It was that way, too, with
Justin, at first. He was a tree and I was underage. But once those things
changed, we really stirred up the storks.” She smiled reminiscently.

 

 They had a nice room for the night.
When Ciriana slept, they talked, briefly. “I could use the spancel, once
Thesis' research is done.”

 

 “No.”

 

 “No?”

 

 “I want you to love me, if you do,
because it is the natural thing for you to do. That will happen only if it
makes practical and emotional sense to you.”

 

 “If I don't die first!” she
flared.

 

 “I'm sorry,” he said, hurt.

 

 “No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have
said that. Of course you're right. It has to be natural. But we do have a time
limit, whatever it is.”

 

 “We do,” he agreed.
“It's a gamble. I hate gambling, but it is the way it must be.”

 

 “And the way you saved the
Acquaintance Ship. I remain unsettled about that.”

 

 “So do I,” he agreed. “I
did what I had to do, but it was beyond what I thought I could do. I worked
through reverse wood, but this time I actually converted regular wood to it, at
least on a temporary basis.”

 

 “Temporary?”

 

 “When the storm abated, the reversal
did not continue. The wood reverted to normal. Otherwise there would have been
unusual effects as people touched the rail.”

 

 He was right. He had done something
special, for the time required. “This strikes me as more than mere power
over reverse wood.”

 

 “Or at least a broader power over
it. To conjure it, transform it, limit it-it's all reverse wood.”

 

 “What about when I got doused by
Lethe Elixir?”

 

 “I must have touched a chip of
reverse wood to that, to reverse its effect.”

 

 “I suppose.” She remained
less than satisfied, but what other explanation was there? “Talents vary
in strength. Yours still seems to be growing.” “At least when I get
desperate.” On that unsettled note, they held hands and slept.

 

 

 

 Next day they set off on a new blue arrow
direction, with the addition of Thesis to their party. This time they had a new
kind of transportation: a huge zombie sphinx. It didn't talk, it just walked,
but that seemingly slow amble covered ground at a phenomenal rate.

 

 “Does anyone have any idea where
we're going?” Clio asked.

 

 “Surely to Castle Roogna, and
Princess Ida,” Thesis answered. “Thence to planet Ptero. This is
where Morgan le Fay resides.”

 

 “Who?”

 

 “She is a nefarious Sorceress with
much evil on her atrophied conscience. She made the spancel.”

 

 “I am in a position to know of all
Magicians and Sorceresses who are or have been active in Xanth,” Clio said
carefully. “How is it I do not know of her?”

 

 “Well, she's Mundane.”

 

 “But there's no magic in
Mundania.”

 

 “There's very little magic there
now. But there was more in the past. Morgan le Fay dates from more than a
thousand years in Mundania's past. She was the fairy half-sister of King
Arthur, and used the spancel to enchant him so that he summoned his
illegitimate son Mordred with her. Both he and Morgan were nothing but trouble
for him, and finally succeeded in destroying him. After that there was no
mischief remaining for her to do there, and the magic was diminishing, so she
departed. She hasn't been active in Xanth. In fact she's been in hiding, and
was not pleased when my researches uncovered her presence.”

 

 “Inactive,” Clio said.
“That explains it.”

 

 “Does her displeasure have
anything to do with your becoming a zombie?” Sherlock inquired shrewdly.

 

 “Everything,” Thesis said.
“But I was not willing to be balked, so close to the completion of my
project.”

 

 “What happened? She shouldn't have
power in Xanth, if she's just a spirit on Ptero.”

 

 “She doesn't. But there are those
who owe her favors. One was a demon. He fashioned himself into a pillow on a
bush, and placed himself in my way. I harvested him, took him inside, and slept
with my head on him. When I was asleep, he turned over and smothered my face. I
was caught by surprise, and died before I could free myself.” Thesis
smiled grimly. “Now I have a long hat pin to use to stab any other pillow
demon. But I was already dead, and the best I could do was fight to retain the
half-life of a zombie. I lost much of a year, and wandered aimlessly for some
time, retaining only the spancel, until Castle Zombie took me in. It was very
frustrating to be unable to communicate my situation to them.”

 

 “I'll try to help you to never be
frustrated again,” Zaven said, kissing her.

 

 “That will certainly help,”
she said, kissing him back. Clio tried not to wince; she wished so much she
could have a relationship like that, freed of all reservations.

 

 “So why are you-and we-going to
Morgan?” Sherlock asked. “Won't she just try to kill us all?”

 

 “I doubt it. She is devious and
subtle. She doesn't like to show her hand directly. She'll more likely try to
hide, or to persuade us to desist. But I mean to deliver the spancel to her,
and be done with it.”

 

 “Why take it to her?” Clio
asked.

 

 “Because it is only through the
spancel that she can track me or anyone else, beyond Ptero. Once she has it
back, she will have no power in Xanth.”

 

 “Couldn't you simply throw it
away?” Sherlock asked.

 

 “An invaluable magic artifact like
that? Never. It must be disposed of properly. Otherwise someone else might find
it.”

 

 “How did the spancel get into
Xanth?” He seemed to have a genius for relevant questions.

 

 “That I don't know. It's one of
the last missing pieces of the puzzle of it. She used it on King Arthur, then
it disappears from the record. I was able to locate it only by my ability to
orient on foreign magic.”

 

 “You can locate non-Xanth
magic?” Sherlock asked.

 

 “That's my talent, limited as it
is. But it does help in my research. I didn't know what the spancel was when I
found it; thereafter I researched, and learned a good deal. My best conjecture
is that someone else brought it to Xanth, then lost it. It must have been lost
for a thousand years. But once I took it, Morgan was able to track me, and knew
I was investigating its origin, which meant I would find her. So she stopped
me. Until Zaven restored me.” She kissed him again.

 

 And now Clio was involved with the
spancel and its mystery. This time she didn't need to guess what danger she
might encounter; it was Morgan le Fay. But how could this possibly relate to
her own mission of finding the Currant, the red berry? Her quest had been
remarkably devious and dangerous, and she still had no idea of its ending,
except that it might literally be the death of her.

 

 Sherlock took her hand and squeezed it.
That made her feel better, illogical as that might be.

 

 By midday they hove into sight of
Castle Roogna.

 

 “We've been here before,”
Clio remarked.

 

 “Perhaps you have,” Sherlock
said. “I have not, since associating with you.”

 

 “And neither have we,” Zaven
said.

 

 “That's right: I have, but I was
alone, then with the dragons.”

 

 “Lets hope that there is strength
in numbers.”

 

 They were going to face a hostile
foreign Sorceress. Numbers were unlikely to help much.

 

 The three little Princesses came out to
greet them, appearing on the back of the sphinx. “Back again, Muse?”
Melody asked brightly.

 

 “Yes, I-”

 

 “With new friends?” Harmony
added.

 

 “Yes, Sherlock,-”

 

 “To see Aunt Ida,” Rhythm
concluded.

 

 “Zaven, Thesis, and Ciriana,”
Clio finished.

 

 “Oh, a child!” Melody
exclaimed, delighted.

 

 “You don't need to take her to
Ptero,” Harmony said.

 

 “Come with us,” Rhythm told
Ciriana. “We've got eye scream.” She took the child's hand, and the
four of them vanished.

 

 “But-” Clio started, in vain.

 

 “She'll be in good hands, I'm
sure,” Sherlock said. “Did you really want to take her to
Ptero?”

 

 “No, actually. In fact, there's
surely no need for you to risk yourself there either. We'll just return the
spancel to Morgan, and then I'll see where the arrow points.”

 

 “Let you face an evil Sorceress
alone? I think not.”

 

 “As you wish.” She really appreciated
his loyalty.

 

 “I wouldn't care to risk you
either,” Thesis told Zaven. “But I can't stand to be apart from
you.” They kissed.

 

 “And you'd revert to zombie
without me,” he said. They kissed again.

 

 Something snapped in Clio. She turned
to Sherlock, hauled his face in to her, and kissed him soundly.

 

 The three Princesses with Ciriana in
tow reappeared. “OoOo, we saw!” Melody cried.

 

 “You kissed!” Harmony agreed.

 

 “You smacked him!” Rhythm
said.

 

 “Right on the face,” Ciriana
concluded.

 

 “Now just a-” Clio began. But
they were already gone in a cloud of giggles.

 

 “They aren't taking long about
educating Ciriana,” Sherlock said. “Sneaking peeks must be a favorite
palace occupation.”

 

 The sphinx came to a halt and settled
down so they could dismount. There was a rope ladder for them to use to reach
the ground. The four of them climbed down. Then the sphinx rose and walked back
toward Castle Zombie. In barely a moment and a half it was out of sight.

 

 “Do you know the mechanics of
going to Ptero?” Clio asked Thesis.

 

 “Oh, yes, I learned that when I
researched Morgan le Fay. I have never been there myself, however.”

 

 “It's actually just a soul
visit,” Clio said. “But it will seem quite physical. You can't
actually die there, but otherwise your experience will be real.”

 

 “Yes, I'm sure. We'll return the
spancel and be done with it. I hope, however, that Morgan will condescend to
answer a few questions for my dissertation.”

 

 “Why would she do that?”

 

 “Evil Magicians and Sorceresses
crave attention. I'll give her full credit for making the spancel, and detail
where she got it, if she provides the information. She may want that. If
not-” Thesis shrugged. “I'll write what I have. It isn't as though my
life has no other interests.” She kissed Zaven.

 

 Clio had to marvel. The two had spent
what had surely been a thorough night fulfilling their love, but still it
spilled over into the day. She really was jealous of that surplus emotion. Yet
so far she simply hadn't been able to experience it herself.

 

 She pondered that as they walked into
the castle. Sherlock was certainly a worthy man, and he loved her. Why couldn't
she let herself go and love him similarly?

 

 “Why hello again, Princess,”
Princess Ida said as they arrived at her door.

 

 Princess: that was it. Despite what she
had told Sherlock, she was a princess, and in her secret heart wanted to marry
a prince or Magician. Logically she didn't have to, but her early conditioning
was a belief system, not a logic system. It would rather see her a spinster,
than married to a commoner. “Darn!” she swore, and small blue sparks
flew.

 

 Four people stared at her.

 

 Clio felt herself turning medium to
bright red. “Oh, I-I'm sorry,” she stammered. “I had a chain of
thought, and it overcame me. I didn't mean you, Princess Ida.”

 

 “Of course not,” Ida agreed.
She was a very agreeable person. “The dragons told me.”

 

 “Told you what?” Clio asked,
alarmed.

 

 “I'm a princess too. I suffer the
same reservation, and the same annoyance. I don't want to remain single
forever, yet I continue to age without marrying.”

 

 She really did understand. Clio was
overcome. “Oh, it's awful!”

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