Currant Events (36 page)

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Authors: Piers Anthony

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

BOOK: Currant Events
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 “So what did you accomplish?”
Clio asked, trying not to be cutting, as she wasn't that kind of person.

 

 “She's fetching a step
ladder.”

 

 “A what?”

 

 “It's a pun, of course. A ladder
that steps.”

 

 “A step ladder,” Clio agreed.
“What good will that be to us?”

 

 “Puns can have more than one
interpretation.”

 

 She let it be. Either the thing would
help, or it wouldn't. Would Annie Mae really enable Sherlock to go far away
with another woman, or had she simply stolen a kiss?

 

 The ladder appeared. It was standing up
and walking by twisting so that one side advanced while the other held the
ground. It was a highly wavy walk, but it was making progress. It came to the
edge of the comic strip and stopped, mostly out of it.

 

 “The ladder will step you to the
comic strip closest to Castle Roogna,” Annie said. “Just step from
this side to that side.”

 

 “Thank you,” Sherlock said.

 

 “If your true love ever dumps you,
you know where to find me,” Annie said somewhat wistfully. “Just come
to the edge of Sunset Strip and say my name.”

 

 “I don't think she'll dump
me,” he said. “But I will keep you in mind.”

 

 “Will this really work?” Clio
asked.

 

 “Yes, it will,” Drew said.
“We read Annie's mind. Sherlock reversed her attitude, so that instead of
leading us into mischief she's helping.”

 

 “Sherlock is accomplishing a
lot,” Clio remarked, mostly to herself.

 

 Sherlock stepped onto the ladder on the
strip side. He climbed to the top, worked his way over to the other side, and
disappeared.

 

 “He's out of range,” Drew
said. “It stepped him there.”

 

 “Your turn, dear,” Clio said.

 

 “$$$$,” the child replied.
Yes, Sherlock was out of range. She climbed and went over, and vanished.

 

 Clio mounted the ladder. It was
awkward, but she made it over to the other side. Nothing happened.

 

 She looked around-and there were
Sherlock and a mature young woman. Where had she come from? “How
did you get back here?”

 

 Both laughed. “We didn't. You came
here,” Sherlock said. “See, there's Castle Roogna.” He gestured.

 

 She looked. There was the castle. They
were at the edge of a different strip. But she still didn't see Ciriana.
“Where's the child?”

 

 “I'm Ciriana,” the young
woman said. “I'm twenty. We moved west, remember?”

 

 She had aged fifteen years in one step!
“I forgot,” Clio confessed. “Are you all right? I mean, aging so
suddenly must be confusing.” Certainly to Clio, if not to Ciriana herself.

 

 “No problem. And now the Adult
Conspiracy is irrelevant. I'm Old Enough.” She glanced sidelong at
Sherlock.

 

 Clio wasn't quite satisfied with this,
but thought it best not to argue the case at the moment. “Very well.”

 

 “And I do know better, now, than
to speak those forbidden words intemperately. I appreciate why they must be
kept from children; a person must achieve judgment before power. That is even
more true in the case of summoning the stork. Not that I have any immediate
plans in that respect. First I shall have to find a good man.” Her eyes
made half a flick toward Sherlock.

 

 “Let's get on with the mission,”
Clio said. What was this appeal Sherlock seemed to have for women? The women of
the Acquaintance Ship wanted to tempt him there for his soul, but since then
other women had been rather obviously attracted to him, including even the
Sorceress Morgan le Fay. And of course Clio herself. What had changed?

 

 A dusky young woman approached.
“Hello. I'm Kia. My talent is making rain. Does this area need it?”

 

 Clio introduced herself and the others.
“It does seem somewhat dry here,” she said, looking around. There
were bushes and trees, but they were looking thirsty.

 

 “I'll fix that,” Kia said.
She lifted one hand, and rain began to fall around her. There was no storm,
merely a gentle falling from above.

 

 “Perhaps we had better move on
before we get wet,” Sherlock said.

 

 “Nice meeting you, Kia,”
Ciriana called as they walked away. The young woman was now standing in a
fairly solid, silent shower. The vegetation seemed to appreciate it.

 

 The blue arrow pointed toward the
castle, which looked just like the one in Xanth. They walked there, and saw
Souffle the moat monster. He recognized Clio, whose appearance had not changed
much, and Sherlock, who now looked to be at the verge of the farther side of
middle age, but not Ciriana. But he accepted Clio's vouch for her.

 

 A Princess appeared, full grown at age
twenty-three, accompanied by a green man. She had a brown dress, hair, and
eyes. “Hello, Clio. Still on your mission to find the red berry?”

 

 “I am, Harmony. I think I have
another session with Princess Ida.”

 

 “She is expecting you.”
Harmony looked at Sherlock. “Hello again, Magician.”

 

 “I'm not a-”

 

 “And Ciriana. I remember you from
when you were five. You were so cute! But that word!”

 

 “I was immune to the Adult
Conspiracy. Reverse wood helped stifle it, but it seems I also had to be close
to Daddy. His chips seem to lose their power away from him.”

 

 Was that really the explanation, Clio
wondered? Then what of Getaway and Comealong Golem? They hadn't seemed to be at
a disadvantage away from Sherlock.

 

 “We were caught off guard,”
Harmony said. “We didn't know how to handle it.” She glanced sidelong
at Sherlock. “I wish you had had the wit to be delivered into my
generation.”

 

 He laughed. “I never was much of a
wit.”

 

 Clio was fit to be stifled. Yet another
curvy young woman playing up to Sherlock, and this one a princess, yet, in the
presence of her evident boyfriend.

 

 “Oh, I am being unprincessly
impolite,” Harmony said. “This is Borealis. He is destined to be the
man for Aurora, the winged mermaid. She was once a blob too.”

 

 “A blob?” Clio asked, looking
more carefully at the green man.

 

 “I am from a planet made of green
goo, some distance up the line,” Borealis said. He held up one hand, and
it melted into goo. “All creatures there are goo. Fortunately we have the
ability to shape ourselves as we wish. When I decided to travel, I assumed the
form of a human man. Princess Harmony has been coaching me. When I am manlike
enough, I hope to go to Xanth and assume the form of a winged merman, so I can
be with Aurora. It seems destined.”

 

 Clio remembered how Aurora had come
from the world of Cone and occupied a blob in Xanth, shaping it into winged
mermaid form.

 

 There were not many of her species. She
surely would appreciate a winged merman. “Many dragons have gone from
Dragon World to Xanth, animating organic material; you may be able to do the
same.”

 

 “I am glad to know that,”
Borealis said.

 

 “But we still need to work on
color,” Harmony said. “And you'll have to assume the form and
practice flying.”

 

 “I will, I will,” he agreed.
They moved off.

 

 They reached Princess Ida's room. There
were more amenities. Then they were back on their way along the chain of
worlds. The blue arrow facilitated it, so they hardly seemed to stop at
individual Idas. They passed a planet-sized blob of green goo; Clio had a
notion of its nature now, so wasn't concerned by its Princess Ida's gooey
greenness. On they moved.

 

 Until they came to Plane World. This
was endlessly wide but shallow, like an infinite pane of glass. They could see
through it. On the other side, keeping pace with them, were other people.
Beneath Sherlock was a man that resembled him, but seemed somehow arrogant and
stupid. Under Ciriana was a woman like her, but looking mean-spirited. And
below Clio was a woman like her in outline, but whose bearing was reminiscent
of Morgan le Fay.

 

 “This is weird,” Ciriana
said.

 

 “I don't want to seem
paranoid,” Sherlock said, “but I don't trust this. Where is this
Limbo we're looking for?”

 

 “That's Limo, big Daddy,”
Ciriana said with half a titter.

 

 He smiled at her. “Limo
bean?”

 

 Both of them were joking, getting along
well with each other. Clio suppressed yet another wash of unkind jealousy. It
was not her business.

 

 Apparently some emotion leaked out, for
Ciriana glanced at her. “My heart always belonged to Daddy; you know that.
There's no one else like him.”

 

 Clio looked at the compass, but the
blue arrow had faded out. Apparently they had arrived where they were supposed
to be. But what was the point?

 

 “Creature approaching,” Drew
announced.

 

 It was a huge cat, a virtual panther.
Beneath it, on the other side of the glass, ran a young woman. A chip of
reverse wood appeared in Sherlock's hand.

 

 “Female and friendly,” Drusie
said.

 

 The big cat bounded to a halt before
them, and transformed into a lithe girl. Simultaneously, the young woman below
became a big cat. “Hello. I am Satori, a girl-cat crossbreed. I suspect
you're confused about this world.”

 

 “We are indeed,” Sherlock
said. “I am Sherlock, and these are Clio and Ciriana.”

 

 Satori nodded. “I see. So I don't
suppose you are interested in another of the female purr-suasion.” She
delivered a feline glance.

 

 Another! Clio could hardly stand it.

 

 “My love is taken,” Sherlock
agreed. “But we would certainly appreciate learning something about this
world.”

 

 “Plane World lacks the kind of
scenery other worlds may have- mountains, valleys, seas, if you like that
type,” Satori said. “But it has its compensation. Beneath each
person, on the other side of the plane, is his or her polar opposite. A
friendly person has an unfriendly opposite, and vice versa. In my case, my girl
and cat forms exchange places. Most folk have little or no actual contact with
their opposites, so ignore them.”

 

 “Thank you,” Sherlock said.
“That alleviates our confusion.”

 

 “You're welcome,” Satori
said. “Do you plan to stay long? Is there anything I can do for you on an
incidental basis?” She turned part way and inhaled.

 

 “We're looking for Litho,”
Clio said quickly.

 

 A look of horror crossed the girl's
face. She transformed back into cat form and bounded rapidly away.

 

 “Something odd here,”
Sherlock said.

 

 A shadow fell across them. Then a giant
stony manlike creature landed on the plane. “Who invokes my name?” he
roared. A similar inverted figure appeared below the pane except that it looked
benign.

 

 This had to be Litho. Clio was cowed,
but did her best to conceal it. “I do. I am Clio, and it seems I have
business with you.”

 

 “Oh do you!” the mountainous
man roared. “I'll crush you like the insignificant mortal worm you
are.” He took a giant step toward her.

 

 Sherlock stepped faster, getting
between them. “I think not, rock head.”

 

 Litho halted, staring down at him.
“Who the nonsense are you, black mortal?”

 

 “I am Sherlock.”

 

 “Eruption!” Litho swore.
“Morgan said you were nullified.”

 

 “Well, I wasn't. Leave this woman
alone.”

 

 “What's going on?” Clio
asked, baffled.

 

 “As if you don't know, traitorous
wench!” Litho said. “You were supposed to be sent to me helpless, not
with a Magician to defend you.”

 

 “What Magician?”

 

 “I'll be impacted!” Litho
said. “She doesn't know.”

 

 “I don't know what?”

 

 “That Morgan knew she couldn't
keep the Magician if she didn't get rid of you. So she nullified him so I could
smash you. But he says-” Litho paused. “Oh, I get it! You're
bluffing.”

 

 “I am just doing what I have to
do,” Sherlock said.

 

 “We'll soon make proof of
that.” Litho swung his huge granite fist down like a pile driver, right at
Sherlock's head.

 

 Sherlock did not move. Ciriana
screamed.

 

 But when the fist touched Sherlock's
head, it shattered. Fragments flew outward. One smacked into Clio's front,
stinging her through the cloth. She managed to catch it before it fell. It was
just a ragged pebble of no distinction.

 

 But the blue arrow reappeared, pointing
to it. This was what she had come for. So she put it in a pocket.

 

 Litho stared at his hand, which was
gone. “You weren't bluffing.”

 

 “If you are satisfied,”
Sherlock said, “we'll be satisfied if you simply depart now.”

 

 Litho laughed. It sounded like gas
hissing from a mountain vent. “You think you have beaten me, you puny
excuse for an entity? Know, O foolish one, that I have not yet begun to
brawl.” His fist reappeared, as stony as before. “Do you know
anything about me?” He moved slowly to the side, as if to get around the
man.

 

 “We really don't,” Sherlock
said, moving with similar deliberation to remain between Litho and Clio.
“And we're not much interested.”

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