Roc And A Hard Place (12 page)

Mortals can be very skittish about clothing, or the lack of it.

Especially when they are of opposite sexes.”

“It was handled in this manner:  The demons caused the mortals to sleep deeply.  They put them together, then woke them in turns.  So he got to look at her while she slept, and then she got to look at him while he slept.  Naturally the two reacted in certain ways, and the one who reacted most to the other was deemed to be the less beautiful.  Thus did the demons stage and judge their beauty contest.”

Metria was thoughtful.  “This is a most intriguing notion.

Are you suggesting that we put your daughter and the professor's son together asleep, and stage a beauty contest?  That might be interesting and fun to do, but it wouldn't get them married to each other.”

“Are you sure?  In the story the demons satisfied themselves that the man was the prettier of the two, then put both to sleep again and returned them to their homes.  But when the two mortals woke, far apart, each yearned for the other, and neither rested until they were together.”

“Because each had had a real chance to inspect the other at close range,” Metria said.  “That might indeed work.  It is certainly worth a try.  D. Vore is one terrific catch, and he is a Prince.  Nada is Xanth's loveliest mortal female figure.

They well might impress each other favorably, especially since both need to marry.  But can we put them to sleep?”

“I have a sleeping potion I can slip to my daughter.  Surely Professor Grossclout has something similar that will do for his son.”

“Then let's do it!” she exclaimed, gratified.

Soon Nada Naga and Jenny Elf arrived back, with a small bag of plaid diamonds.  Metria quickly served them both with their summonses, and explained about the trial, while King Nabob slithered quietly away to make preparations.

Metria popped back to the demon caves to talk to Grossclout again.

“Professor!  Something else.”

He paused, midway in a step toward the cowering class.

“My patience is being strained somewhat beyond the incendiary point, Demoness,” he rumbled.

“You want Vore to marry Nada, right?  Suppose you make it a real occasion by marrying Grey Murphy and Princess Ivy at the same time?  Nada and Ivy are close friends, and—“

“And it's been nine years,” he agreed.  “Ivy's mother procrastinated too.  Very well.”

Metria smiled.  “Thanks, Prof!” Then she told him what else was required.

Within the hour the arrangements had been made.  The demons' beauty contest proceeded.

Demon Prince Vore woke to find himself in a strange situation.  Wan light filtered down from above.  He was in a small chamber whose walls extended well up beyond head height, and there were no doors or windows.  Odder yet, there lay beside him a bare girl.

He looked again.  This was no girl; this was a fully equipped mortal human-style woman.  Her hair was reddish brown, and swirled around her body like a silken cloak.  Her face was stunningly beautiful, and so was her body; he lifted her hair out of the way to make sure.

“If this is the creature my father has in mind for me to marry, she'll do,” he remarked.  “She looks good enough to eat.  However, I have no intention of being coerced into any thing, or of remaining cooped up here.  I am, after all, a demon Prince, subject to the will of just about no one else.”

He tried to pop off—but nothing happened.  He tried to dematerialize, but again nothing happened.  He tried to fly, and could not.  His demonly powers had been somehow stripped from him.  What had happened?

He checked the circular wall of the chamber.  It was firm, without crevice or opening.  He pushed against it, but it did not yield.  He tried to climb up it, but could find no purchase.

Baffled, he returned to his consideration of the sleeping woman.  “Who are you, lovely creature?” he inquired.  She did not respond.  He touched her slender arm, but she did not react.  She was under a spell of some sort that kept her asleep.

A spell!  That must be what had happened to him.  Some magic had put him to sleep, and the lingering aftereffects still deprived him of his demonly powers.  The girl might have been similarly enchanted, but being merely mortal, had not fought even partially out of it as he had.

Now he saw, almost hidden beneath the graceful mass of her tresses, a small golden crown set around her head.  She was a Princess!

“Ah, but what a marvel of pulchritude you are, my dear,” he remarked.  “And a Princess too.  I would love to have a tryst with you, were you awake.  But as it is, I must let you be, for I am an honorable creature.”

He sat beside her, watching her slow even breathing.  It was most impressive.  Then, suddenly, he knew no more.

Princess Nada Naga woke, surprised.  One moment she had been about to retire in the pleasant cave she shared with Jenny Elf, and here she was in some strange chamber.

“Eeeeek!” she screamed, putting at least five e’s into it.

There was a naked man lying beside her!

She scrambled to her feet, discovering in the process that she was nude herself.  She tried to find the door, but there was none.  Also no window.  Only wan light sagging down from far above.  She was in the bottom of a well!

She tried to change to serpent form, but could not.  So she tried to revert to naga form, and could not do that either.

Something was interfering with her natural shape-shifting ability.  She realized that she had probably been put under some kind of spell, and had recovered from only part of it, so that she was now awake, but possessed of no other special abilities.

And this strange man must have been similarly treated.

She sat down on the soft bed that filled the bottom of the well, and considered him more carefully.  He was a handsome brute, firm of feature and muscular of body.  And, as she peered more closely, she saw a light golden crown on his head.  He was a Prince!

“I wish I had known about you before,” she murmured appreciatively.  “I have been looking for a suitable Prince for more time than I care to confess.  But of course, you're probably obnoxious, as most males are, when awake.” She peered yet more closely.  “And you look to be about twentythree years old.  Too young for me, because I am twentysix.”

She pondered, and considered, and thought, and finally decided to take a chance and wake the handsome stranger.

She spoke to him, but there was no response.  She shook his shoulder, but he did not stir.  Finally she tried her ultimate.

She got down on her hands and knees, put her mouth to his, and kissed him.  But it was no use; he continued to sleep.  It was the first time such a thing had happened; she had been able almost to wake the dead with a kiss.  Maybe that magic, too, had been stifled by the enchantment on her.

She sighed.  Unable either to escape or to wake the man, she would simply have to wait this out.  She lay down again beside him, took his hand in hers so that she would know if he stirred, and suddenly she was unconscious.

“So much for the beauty contest,” Metria remarked.  “Neither one of them really got hot.” She was peering through the transparent cloud substance of the confinement tower.  Or rather, into the big magic mirror that showed the distant tower as if it were made of glass.

“They're both decent folk,” Jenny Elf said.  “At least, I know Nada is.  I think this plot of yours is crazy.”

“They both need to be married,” King Nabob said.

“That's the point.  This is merely stage one.”

“I still think it won't work,” Jenny said.  But Sammy Cat, in her arms, looked thoughtful.

The two prisoners in the well woke together.  “Oh!” Nada cried, and tried to change form, for it was not proper to be unclothed in human form with a strange man.  But she remained unable to change.  So she draped her hair across her torso, covering most of it, though parts of her insisted on poking through.

“You're awake!” Vore said, as startled as she.

“And so are you,” she said, not unreasonably, hastily letting go of his hand.

He looked around, then down at his bare self.  He tried to fashion clothing around himself, but that power, too, was inoperative.  Realizing that there was nothing to be done about it, as his hair was not nearly as long as hers, he made the best of it.  “Hello.  I am Prince Vore.”

“I am Princess Nada.” For a reason neither understood, neither gave further identification.

“You are the most beautiful woman I can remember seeing.” As a conversational gambit, this lacked finesse.

She, however, took it in stride.  “And you are the handsomest man.  Even if you are young.”

He shrugged.  “I am as I am.  Do you know how we came to be confined here?”

“I was about to ask you that.  One moment I was in my royal chamber; the next, I woke here—beside you.  You were asleep.”

“Oh?  When I woke before, you were the one sleeping.”

She pursed her lips, fashioning, if not a moue, at least not a neigh.  “I think we have been enchanted.”

“My thought exactly.  But to what purpose?”

She considered.  “I remember a story my father told me as a child, about a demons' contest—but that's irrelevant.

Perhaps someone has abducted us, and means to hold us for ransom.”

“But why deprive us of our clothing?”

“So we can't escape without attracting notice?”

“Princess Nada, I think you would attract notice anywhere, regardless of your attire.”

“I presume you mean that as a compliment.”

“I do.”

“Then I thank you.  Do you think we can get out of this well?”

He cast about.  The soft stuff of which the bed was made seemed malleable.  He drew some forth and fashioned it into a cord.  “Perhaps, if this is strong enough, I can make a rope that will reach the turret above.”

“I will help you,” she said immediately.

They got to work on it forthwith, and such was their mutual dexterity that they soon had a fine strong rope forming.

Her fingers were nimble for the fine threads, and his hands were strong for the stout rope.  She admired his hands, among other things, and he admired her fingers, among other things.

When they had a sufficient length, he made a loop at one end and flung it up so that it neatly caught on a turret.  Then he hauled himself up, hand over hand, his muscles straining because he wasn't used to climbing, a wall the hard way.  He reached the top, sat on the turret, and peered down.  “Your turn, Nada!” he called.

She shook her head.  “I'm afraid I lack your strength, Vore.  I cannot haul myself up in the forthright manner you did.  Perhaps you should go and see if you can win your freedom.”

He gazed at her a bit more closely, and saw that while most of his own extra flesh was in the form of muscles on his arms, most of hers was in the form of curvature on her torso and legs.  That would indeed not do for hand-over-hand climbing.  “By no means, Nada.  Make a loop at the bottom and sit in it, and I will haul you up.”

She did so, and soon he had brought her also to the top.

Then they both looked around.

They were perched on the top of a tower, which was part of a formidable castle.  The castle was on a white island in a dark blue sea.

“Should we make own way down and then inquire within the castle?” Nada asked.

“I like your trusting nature.  But I suspect that whoever or whatever occupies this castle is what has imprisoned us, and we should avoid contact if we possibly can.”

“I like your sensible caution.  Indeed, you are surely correct, and my notion was foolish.  What else should we do?”

For a moment they faced each other, and each became further aware that the other was of wondrously aesthetic aspect as well as possessing trust and caution that nicely complemented each other.  But their situation was too precarious to allow them much chance for reflection.

“Maybe we should get down and try to find a boat,” she said.

“Agreed.  And some clothing.  Though I admit it is no great burden to behold you as you are.”

She blushed half a shade, becoming twice as pretty, though that was impossible.  He might be young, but there was something about him.  “I might say the same for you.”

Then he lowered her to the ground, and handed himself down.  He jerked on the rope, and the loop came off the turret and fell to the ground beside them.

They skulked around the castle, hiding in the shade of the walls.  They found what might be a locked boatshed.  Vore was going to bash it open, but Nada cautioned him about the noise.  Instead she slipped a twisted thread from the rope in through the latch-hole and managed to lift the inner latch.

Thus they got inside the boatshed silently.  “How can a Princess have developed such skill at thievery?” Vore asked admiringly.

“I once had a certain passion for cookies, which were kept locked up,” she confessed.  “So I learned how to acquire them without attracting attention.”

There was a small airboat inside.  Vore put it into the air, and it floated.  “I had expected a waterboat,” he said, “but this will do.”

Nada climbed in, and Vore pushed the boat out the open door, then got in himself.  It sank a bit lower in the air because of their weight, but floated well enough.  Vore took the oars and stroked, and the little craft moved smoothly in the opposite direction.

There was a noise in the castle.  “Oops, someone is stirring,” Nada said, alarmed.  “We must flee before they spy us.”

Vore put his back into it, and the boat fairly shot out from the castle.  Now Nada looked down and discovered that what surrounded the castle wasn't water, but sky blue air.  No wonder there was an airboat!  The castle was floating in the air, on a cloud.

Soon they were able to hide behind another cloud, out of view of the castle.  Their escape seemed to be successful.

“But we didn't find any clothes,” Vore said, remembering.

“Perhaps I can do something about that,” Nada said.

“You row us down the ground and see if you recognize any landmarks.  I will unravel our rope and try to weave some cloth.” She proceeded to do just that, her fingers becoming nimble again.

“You have amazing skills for a Princess,” Vore remarked appreciatively.