Esrever Doom (Xanth) (39 page)

They were ushered inside, where they were royally feted. The hosts, Picka and Dawn, were interested to learn all of their adventures, and impressed with news of the appearances of four Demons, and then a fifth.

“We are in doubt about how much damage the Bomb will do when destroyed,” Kody concluded. “So I will do that alone, in a safe place.”

“Where is that?” Picka asked.

“In the Void. It is where I first arrived in Xanth. I was merely slow to take the hint.”

“Perfect,” Picka agreed. “Nothing that crosses that boundary returns, except in extremely rare and peculiar circumstances.”

“I will invite my sister here, so she can check the Bomb,” Dawn said.

“Thank you, Dawn,” Eve said, appearing from a shadow. Kody realized that the sisters had close rapport, and they were Sorceresses with special powers. Eve probably had a magic pass that took her straight to Caprice Castle.

Plato was along too. He ran to join Zosi, one of the few adults he seemed to like; her zombie heritage really counted. That and the fact that he knew she would let him animate any dead things he wanted to.

Eve came to Kody and took the Bomb. “This is not just any old bomb,” she said. “This is a New, Clear Bomb, with enormous energy. Detonating it will release all that energy at once, and that will vaporize everything within a hundred paces. Indeed, it should be handled carefully.” She dropped it into Kody’s lap, making him jump. That was her way of teasing him; she was not really being careless.

“I thought it might be something like that,” Kody said, putting the Bomb away.

“Thank you for resetting it,” Eve said. “Now when I visit Xanth I don’t look like a hag.”

“You never looked like a hag to me.”

Eve smiled. “Of course.”

Zosi was with him for the night. She was very soft and warm and close. “Oh, Kody, I’m so afraid!”

“You know I can’t stay,” he reminded her. “But if I win, you also know I will return to visit you.”

“That will give me reason to live,” she said seriously. “And to governess Plato and guide him into making new zombies. I know Princess Rhythm is satisfied to visit Cyrus intermittently, and Princess Harmony spends some time away from Bryce Mundane. If they can do it, I can do it with you. But if you lose—”

“Then you will be free to do what you choose.”

“I hope you win,” she said fervently. “Even if it means you have Mundane girlfriends.”

“There will be no girlfriends in Mundania,” he said firmly. “You are the only woman I will ever love.” It was the absolute truth.

“Oh, Kody!” Little hearts radiated from her.

Then the Adult Conspiracy closed in to censor out the rest of their interaction, as there were three naughty children trying to sneak a peek under the closed door. There was a muffled “Peep!” which was as close as a child could get to a bad word.

In the morning they exited Caprice Castle, which was parked not far from the event horizon of the Void. The scenery was gruesome, but if all went according to plan, that would not be the case much longer.

They all lined up before that dread shimmering line of no return. The others looked at Kody. He was evidently expected to say something. He turned just before the line and faced them.

As it turned out, he did have something to say. “Whatever happens to me, I want you members of my Quest to know that I sincerely appreciate your support and friendship, and hope to see you again. Meanwhile, there are two items I can’t take with me to Mundania. Ivan, I want you to have my sword; call it a return for the way you helped me to get Sniffer and locate the Bomb.”

“Uh, thank you,” Ivan said, taken aback.

“And Yukay, I’d like you to have the chessboard. I know you like to travel, and this will help.”

“Why, thank you, Kody,” she said, and kissed him.

“I know some of you Companions agreed to join my Quest out of simple good-heartedness, and because you had nothing better to do at the moment. You can of course go your separate ways now. But I want to remind you that Caprice Castle is in need of pun collectors, and I’m sure you will be welcome there if you wish to stay.”

“Oh yes,” Dawn said. “Hunting puns is considered hard labor, and few can continue long before their minds rot. But we’ll sincerely appreciate any time any of you can give us.”

Yukay and Ivan exchanged a glance, and so did Zap and Naomi. They were seriously considering it. Zap was good at puns; this was ideal for her. Naomi would be well positioned to meet many new people, both human and animal. Zosi of course would be at Castle Windswept governessing Plato, who was already possessively holding her hand.

“And you, Sniffer,” Kody said. “Cyrus Cyborg should be able to adjust your setting so you can sniff out puns. I’m sure Zap and the others will be glad to be sure you always have plenty of wood to burn.”

“And if Sniffer gets tired of that,” Eve said, “then welcome to come play with Plato in Hades.”

Plato looked at the doglike machine, interested. Sniffer puffed out an agreeable ball of smoke. They would get along.

Kody was ready to turn and step across the line. But he paused. There was an urgency infusing him, something else he had to do. He had to—to give Zosi the Bomb.

What?

Give Zosi the Bomb. It will make her happy.

That could not be his thought! He had already decided to make Zosi happy by returning to visit her, using the Night Stallion’s pass. If he possibly could. He knew she did not want the Bomb, but would not be able to destroy it if she had it. She was depending on him to take it forever out of her reach.

Give Zosi the Bomb.
The urgency was intense.

Kody fought it. But slowly his mouth was opening to say the words he did not want to say, and his hand was reaching into his pocket to fetch out the Bomb. It was as though some other power was controlling his body, making him a marionette. He was trying to resist it, but it was slowly gaining.

“Squawk!”

“You’re right, Zap!” Naomi said. “He’s being attacked by an evil ghost!”

The griffin and the woman came to Kody. “Squawk!”

“Right again! That’s NoAmi, my sinister alter ego! I’d know her anywhere.”

Kody, still forced, brought out the Bomb and started to speak. “Zosi—”

“Squawk!” Zap said, drowning him out while Naomi grabbed his arm.

“Look at that!” Ivan cried. “On Zap!”

“It says Fornax!” Yukay exclaimed. “She’s acting through NoAmi Ghost to make Kody give Zosi the Bomb!”

“That will mess up the Quest,” Ivan said.

“Pluto.” That was Eve’s voice, not loud, but in the tone her husband heeded.

And the Dwarf Demon Pluto was there. Suddenly Kody froze, unable to move or speak. In fact the whole assembly was in stasis.

“Demoness Fornax influence verified,” Pluto said. “Earth, Xanth, your turn.”

The two other Demons appeared. Only the Demoness Eris was missing.

“I am here, Kody,” Eris murmured in his ear. “My friends are affected too. But I can only observe, this time.”

“Pluto, we return your partial status points,” Xanth said. “You secured our coming victory.” Then all four Demons vanished.

Suddenly Kody was free again, along with the others, and the ghost attack was gone. They had handled it, Demon fashion. His Quest was done.

Then why was he still here? He realized that the Demons had not said he was finished, only that their victory had been secured. Maybe the outcome depended on his deciding that for himself. After all, he still held the Bomb, and the landscape still looked wretched to the others. It was his Quest to win or lose.

So Kody’s role was not yet finished. Not quite. He still had to dispose of the Bomb. He saw the others waiting as if watching a play. He saw the tear in Zosi’s eye. She knew he had to do it, yet feared the outcome, as he did.

“I will return, Zosi,” he murmured, and knew that she heard him, because her mouth formed a third of a brave smile.

Kody turned around, holding the Bomb, and stepped quickly across the event horizon. There was no shock, no flash of light, no horrendous fall into a yawning chasm. Merely an uneventful crossing of the line.

He stood in an unremarkable landscape, neither better nor worse than the one he had left. Behind him the line shimmered. He knew he could not pass it again; crossing was strictly one way.

He walked forward, feeling the increasing pull of the Void, the Region from which nothing returned. When he felt he had enough distance, just in case the Bomb was even more powerful than they had thought, he lifted it, slid aside the back panel, and gazed at the bright red button.

Did he really want to do this? Was he about to commit suicide? That fifty-fifty chance of survival suddenly seemed excruciatingly weak. Was it to be Esrever, the reversal, or Doom?

The bleep with it! This was his fantasy destiny. He would meet it with seeming courage. He punched the button.

*   *   *

Kody woke in the Mundane hospital bed. “It’s Esrever!” he exclaimed gladly.

Immediately an alarm sounded. “He’s coming out of the coma!” a nurse said. Kody recognized her as the one who had first told him of his accident. “But he’s still incoherent.”

That was what she thought. He had in his fashion won the gamble. His future was settling into place, here in Mundania and there in the dream realm of Xanth. Glorious!

A doctor appeared, the same one who had sent him into supposed oblivion. “All is well, Mr. Kody,” he said. “You have been out for several days, completely unconscious. But the operation was a success and you’ll be fine.” He walked away before Kody could comment.

Completely unconscious? How little they knew!

“Your friend Joshua is on his way here,” the nurse said. “He was really concerned for you.”

“Just what happened to me?” Kody asked her. “Did I get hit by a rogue cement truck? What kind of surgery did I have?” But the nurse was already moving on to the next patient. Par for the hospital course. Everybody knew about the details of his case except the patient. Well, Joshua would surely tell him.

Kody saw that he was definitely back in the real world. His amazing dream was over. But he felt the dream pass in his mind and knew he could invoke it when he chose. His life in Mundania was totally different, but he knew that when he was ready he would return to the fantasy dream, Esrever, not Doom. To his friends there. To the magic. To the ludicrous puns. For a few hours at a time.

And to Zosi.

Author’s Note

This is #37 in the Xanth series of novels. The next one, slated to be titled
Board Stiff,
will complete the alphabet in Xanths. Will the series go beyond that? That depends on how well reader interest holds up. The publishing industry is suffering a seismic quake as electronic books pass paper books in sales, and I think no one knows for sure what the future holds. I am getting my books published both ways as much as I can, so as not to lose a sizable portion of my readership. Negotiations with publishers have been fierce; I hired a high-powered lawyer to represent my case that those rights are mine to assign.

I had my seventy-seventh birthday AwGhost 6, 2011, which I celebrated by staying home and getting my work done. At this age birthdays are not the novelties they were in youth. No, no birthday cake; I am keeping my weight down. Next day I wrote five hundred words of notes for
Esrever Doom,
as I got serious about starting the novel. Next week when I was doing my morning exercise run, my right foot snagged on something and suddenly my face was on the pavement. I made it home okay, but my face, hands, and knees were awash in blood. My wife helped clean me up. Fortunately the scrapes were superficial; no bones broken or bent. But I did wonder whether it had been a mistake to turn seventy-seven.

Three days later, on the 15th, I started writing text on the novel. It went well. But then, on the 28th, I fell again. This time it was Sunday morning. I was on the scooter I use to go out to fetch the morning newspapers on days when I’m not running. It’s the kind you push with your foot, an adult version with sixteen-inch wheels. I did not see a fallen branch, and in a moment I was on the pavement again, the scooter beyond me, the branch behind me. I was wearing a helmet and goggles, so didn’t hurt my face this time, but I did crunch down on my left shoulder. I climbed to my feet, in pain, my left arm inoperative. My wife took me to the emergency room, the same one I had taken her to when she fell last year, where they took about twenty X-rays of my shoulder. They determined that no bones were broken, my collarbone was intact, but a couple of ribs might have hairline fractures. No surgery needed, and I was good to go home. That was a relief.

I can now report that even a bruised shoulder and a hairline rib fracture can be plenty incapacitating. I couldn’t cough, and heaven forbid that I should have to sneeze; pain was instant and awful. For about sixty years I had eaten with my left hand; I’m right-handed, but on a whim in high school switched for that one thing, and it stuck. Well, now I had to eat right-handed. I couldn’t get into or out of a regular shirt. I couldn’t lie down to sleep; for two weeks I sat up in my study easy chair for that. And of course I couldn’t maintain my exercise schedule. I exercise seriously for my health, not pleasure, and believe I am healthier than the average man my age; I hated being so limited.

But I did manage to maintain normal life in other respects. I make meals, wash dishes, and make beds, since my wife can no longer stand on her feet long enough to do such things; I continued, slowly, very carefully. I couldn’t run, but could walk, so I walked. Each time it was faster, as I healed. I started jogging, faster, and within a month I was running again, and working out with my hand weights. The hardest recovery was my archery: I could not come close to drawing a fifty-five-pound pull bow, let alone do it with an arrow nocked. But I kept trying, and one day I was able to draw the left-hand bow once. The right-hand bow recovery was slower. This might seem odd, since it was my left shoulder I had injured; my right side was fine. But what I discovered was that it was easier for my left hand to pull than to push. So I could pull on the left bow, but to do the right bow I had to hold it with my left hand, and the pressure was inward on the left shoulder. No way! But eventually I got there too, and was able to build up slowly, and finally resume archery, albeit rather clumsily at first. My target-hitting scores were abysmal, but that’s no change from before. I do it for arm muscle, not accuracy.