Swell Foop (31 page)

Breanna smiled, and the cloud over her head dissipated. "For sure. Let's get on with the nuptials."

That was all. But Putre disappeared from beside Jaylin. "He is there, invisible until you claim him," Fornax said.

"Thank you," Jaylin breathed. For the first time, she really appreciated Fornax's presence. The Demoness had delivered.

Now the wedding continued. It was beautiful. Breanna of the Black Wave, having finally grounded her man, was all chocolate sweetness and black light. The couple kissed, and all the women in the audience cried. That included Jaylin.

"Pointless sentimentality," Fornax sniffed.

"You're crying too!" Jaylin retorted.

"Not by choice." But after a pause, she added, "I wish I could marry."

So her emotion of desire had not yet faded enough. "Do Demons marry?"

"Not hitherto. But we never had emotions before. At last I understand why Demon Xanth acted as he did. He caught a case of emotion."

"I guess he did. He and Chlorine have a baby now."

"A baby. Fascinating."

"Do Demons have babies?"

"Not hitherto."

Jaylin shook her head as the ceremony concluded and folk mixed and chatted and went for refreshments. "I want more of these," Fornax said as she used Jaylin's mouth to eat a wincing misfortune cookie.

"That emotion of desire is really tearing you up, isn't it!"

"Yes. Perhaps Demon Earth's emotion of hope will linger long enough for me to share my desire and make a game of marriage and family."

A genuine lightbulb flashed over Jaylin's head. "That's why you want to borrow my body again! To approach Demon Earth in his own domain. Because you like him."

"Desire him. There is a distinction."

"Because of that lingering emotion. The Foop really got to you. So you want to follow up."

"Without being caught loose outside my own domain, and trapped," she agreed. "Your terrene body will protect me against that, and I will be able to have a safe dialogue with him. This is not a physical thing, but a site for an intellectual encounter, to negotiate terms of a special game whose actual arena of play will be elsewhere. It will not interfere with your routine at all; you need not even be conscious of my presence."

Jaylin considered. "I think I'd rather be aware, if it's all the same to you."

"It is all the same. Demons are normally indifferent to the concerns of mortals."

"But I don't think the Demon Earth has any romantic interest in you. He just wants to go home."

Fornax paused, considering. That was unusual, because the Demon minds could process worlds of information in microseconds. "He has an interest in a female, but she does not return it. This allows me a prospect."

"Well, I guess it's your business. It should be interesting."

"Interesting," the Demoness agreed with an obscure slant of mood.

Che and Cynthia Centaur approached. "Isn't this a joyful occasion!" Demoness Saturn exclaimed with Cynthia's voice. Jaylin could recognize them all, because of the effect of radiating Demon omniscience.

"A tedious pain," Demon Mars said angrily with Che's voice.

"Who would have thought it would be such an adventure?" Cynthia asked. "How little did I imagine that my simple query to the Good Magician would take me out of this galaxy."

"It was still a pain," Mars said.

"A bit of anger management," Cynthia murmured. Then she turned into Che and pressed close, giving him a double-breasted kiss. Saturn's lingering joy overwhelmed Mars's lingering anger, silencing him.

"I wonder whether we could do that, Saturn," Mars said musingly.

"Not in these bodies!" Cynthia said, jerking her bare front away from Che's.

Che and Saturn both laughed. They were rapidly catching on to the remaining mortal emotions.

"I desire that!" Fornax breathed longingly.

"I fear you can't have it," Jupiter squawked.

Fornax whirled and kissed him on the beak, silencing him too. She was making Jaylin's body do things, but at this point Jaylin didn't mind; she was too busy giggling.

The wedding celebration was winding down. The Bride and Groom disappeared, surely eager to celebrate love and hope in their fashion. In fact, they were in Castle Zombie, perhaps doing things zombies did not imagine. Jaylin bid farewell to the friends she had made, and turned inwardly to Fornax. "I'm ready to go home, before your emotion fades the rest of the way, and you depart and leave me stranded here."

"Curses! She caught on." The Demoness was still picking trace odds and ends from Jaylin's mind.

It seemed but another moment when Jaylin appeared in the Baldwins' house. Fornax was proving useful for traveling purposes, as she had the ability simply to appear at the destination.

There was David. "He's cute," Fornax remarked silently.

"Jaylin!" David cried. "You're back!"

"You noticed," Fornax said, inhaling. Jaylin was back in whole conventional clothing, but the Demoness had been quite quick to catch on how to use it to best advantage. "But this is not my back; it's my front." She angled it for best advantage, reaching a hand back to draw the shirt tight from behind.

This was becoming embarrassing. "Will you let go of me?" Jaylin demanded silently.

"Not yet. I have to deliver you all the way home." She turned slightly, shifting her knees to accentuate the profile of a hip.

"You've changed!" David said, his eyes attempting to lock onto her chest and hip simultaneously.

"Be quiet and kiss me, wonder boy."

"Please, Fornax—I'd rather kiss him myself!" But the Demoness was still busy exploring the nuances of desire.

David took her in his arms. Fornax nudged closer and gave him a deep kiss as she squeezed his thigh.

"Really changed," he said, amazed.

"That's only the beginning," Fornax said. "Now I must go home. Call me."

And they were standing at Jaylin's door in Hawaii. "Now I will leave you," Fornax said. "I have used up the last of the desire. It was fun. When David calls, tell him that he and his sister have been granted passes to Xanth, and their parents too."

"They have? How do you know?"

"My omniscience, of course. I will come to you at my convenience and inclination. Should you ever wish to host me again on your own initiative, stroke the ring and think of me. I may oblige."

"Don't hold your breath," Jaylin said. But she wasn't entirely sincere. The Demoness had shown her things that might be worth remembering. "Ring?"

She was suddenly alone, except for the ring, on the same finger the Ring of Void had been. It looked entirely ordinary, even dull, but she knew it wasn't. Not by a lo-oo-ong shot!

Nikko was barking. The door opened, and there was her mother. "Jaylin!" she cried gladly.

"Mother!" Jaylin cried, hugging her.

"I'm so glad you're back early! I was concerned."

"Early?"

"Florida is a long way away. You can't have had more than a few hours there. Did something go wrong?"

Jaylin did some quick mental addition and realized that the trip to Florida, and thence to Xanth and Fornax, had taken less than a day. The trip back to Xanth had been instant, and from Xanth to Hawaii almost instant. Add in the time spent in the castle, and at the wedding—it was about two days.

"No, nothing; it was just a bit faster than it might have been."

"How was it? Did you have a nice visit?"

How could she tell her mother all of what had happened? That she had gone to another galaxy, and tried to seduce her friend's fiancé, and agreed to host an impossibly powerful foreign Demoness. Mother would never understand. "It was great, mother. I had all kinds of adventures. And—" She hesitated. Was Putre really here? "Excuse me. I have to—" She hurried on through the house.

"Of course, dear."

But it wasn't the bathroom she was going to. She went on out the back. There was nothing there. Had she been deceived? "Oh, Putre," she murmured sadly.

Something nuzzled her elbow. There was the black horse. She had invoked him by speaking his name. "Oh, Putre!" she cried, clasping his neck tearfully.

Then she stood back a bit. "Can you still talk?"

Putre shook his head. No speech balloon appeared. He had become Mundane.

"I love you anyway!" she said, hugging him again. For an instant she thought she saw a little heart float over his head, but that was surely imagination.

Then she turned back toward the house. How was she going to explain this to her folks? The truth would never do.

She heard the phone ringing. That would be David, calling from Florida; she just knew it. She had things to tell him, especially now that Demoness Fornax was gone. She hurried inside.

Jaylin's mother shook her head. How the girl had come by a horse and brought him here she could not imagine. But that was only part of it. How had she gotten home from the airport? All the girl would say was that a friend had brought her, and that she had found the horse. It was obvious that the horse was nice enough, remarkably well trained, and devoted to her, adding to the mystery. She must have found him in Florida. Yet how could he have been shipped here so rapidly?

And that weird phone call from her pen pal, David. Jaylin's mother did not believe in snooping, but she had been unable to avoid overhearing bits about some kind of demon and desire. That was probably one of those violent computer games, with fantastic creatures galore. They must have played it in Florida. The story line seemed to involve something about the distant galaxy Fornax, and rescuing a demon called, of all things, Earth, and how some demoness was interested in him but he wasn't interested in her. Neither David nor Jaylin could figure out why he wasn't, for she was an incredibly sexy creature, with powers akin to his own. Could he be interested in someone else? But the only other person he had really gotten to know was Jaylin herself, who had helped rescue him, though not in any ordinary way. Why would he care about
her
? Both of them had laughed uproariously at that notion. Then at the end, Jaylin had made a kissing gesture at the phone, and hung up. It was probably just as well that her romantic pen pal was several thousand miles away. She was, after all, only fifteen. What did she know of the pitfalls of young romance?

Jaylin's mother had a bad dream in the night. Something about an impossibly powerful earth spirit taking an interest in her daughter, because she had inadvertently helped him and stirred his emotion. So he was watching her, and watching over her, experiencing the odd feeling of hope. Hope for what? That wasn't clear, but Jaylin's mother woke in horror.

The day was all right. Jaylin seemed to be normal, as she tackled the problem of getting feed and shelter for the new horse. That was going to be expensive, and the girl's allowance couldn't possibly cover it. But he was a nice horse, and Jaylin's mother couldn't help liking him, despite Jaylin's insistence on calling him an ugly name. She had checked on him at night, after Jaylin was asleep, and found him staring up at the moon. What could he possibly see there? She had patted him, and he had nuzzled her, and for a moment the stars over his head had seemed to form a heart-shaped pattern. A trick of night mist, surely. They would make do somehow, though caring for a horse had not been in their plans.

Now it was day, and Jaylin was out riding the horse, bareback. That seemed unsteady, but they were having no trouble at all; the horse was perfectly docile, and seemed to answer to voice commands. He didn't stray, either, when alone, despite the lack of a suitable fence; he remained right where Jaylin asked him to. He seemed to understand every word she spoke. It was uncanny.

It was a cloudy day, and rain was starting. But Jaylin wasn't coming in. What was the matter with that girl? Her mother was about to call to her, but paused in midbreath. Something really weird was happening.

It was raining everywhere, except on the girl and horse. There was a patch of sunlight on them—and it followed them like a spotlight as they moved. It illuminated Jaylin especially, making her hair shine, flattering her features, making her as pretty as an angel. It was as though the land and sky loved her. She seemed quite unaware of it.

Jaylin's mother stared, and suffered a memory of her bad dream. Could it be true? An earth spirit, watching over her, and hoping for something?

Hoping for what?

This is the twenty-fifth Xanth novel. You might think I'd be tired of them by now. No, I enjoy each one, and despite the verdict of cri-ticks each one is different and original in its own fashion. They all have common elements, of course, such as puns, romance, adventure, magic, and continuing characters and setting. There's usually a struggle to get into the Good Magician's castle, and a bit of naughtiness, but also some genuine human discovery and muted social comment. Xanth parodies Mundania, which we know as the dull real world, and pokes fun at anything within range, but there are underlying values of integrity and decency. It is what I consider wholesome entertainment.

Swell Foop
was more of a challenge than most, because of the necessary structuring. I had to align six Rings with six ordinary characters and six zombies and hiding places, as well as nine Demons, six emotions, and nine fundamental aspects of the universe. All without slowing down the adventure and wonder, or violating the Adult Conspiracy too badly. Each time I thought I had it all worked out, there'd be another wrinkle and I'd have to reorganize. Even the computer speller fought me; when I used the word "fumeroles" it wanted to correct it to "females." Did it know something I didn't? I had to review game theory to work out the Demon game climax, figuring out who would win in what circumstance. How much simpler it would have been to have handsome Bat Durston stumble into Xanth, find a magic sword, and rescue a lovely princess from an evil wizard. But I leave that to other writers; Xanth has never been exactly that kind of fantasy.

Some may wonder about the Demon Nemesis. That's a take on speculative astronomy. There are indications that our Solar System is not limited to eight and a half planets (Pluto being the half). There may be a massive additional body way out there, perhaps a brown dwarf, that we know of only by its slight gravitational effect on the rest of the system. This is Nemesis, and it is possible that in the next few years astronomers will finally verify its presence. Similarly, they may nail Dark Matter. There is a lot more to the universe than we can see at present, but we know it is there by its gravitational effect on what we can see. What makes it more interesting is that it isn't necessarily far away; it seems to be everywhere, far and near, even between your eye and the page of this book, but tantalizingly ghostly in its obscurity. It may be so tenuous as to be invisible, yet it comprises more than 90 percent of the substance of the universe. Such a fantastic thing surely deserves a place in fantasy fiction.

There was also the challenge of using the reader suggestions. Some wonder why I bother; the answer is that I feel the material will be fresher if there is some outside input, and I do like to please my readers when I can. More than a hundred were used this time, and I did catch up, except for several that simply would not fit in this novel and will be used in the next one. Often I can't do justice to particular notions, and I regret that, but the needs of the story do come first. Sometimes a perfectly valid reader comment or question doesn't relate. Here's an example: A reader, James , asked about the Demon Litho. Who? I asked. So he documented his case: Litho is the one who made the wiggles, mentioned in
Vale of the Vole
. So who is he? Darned if I know. I conjecture that he may be an aspect of Demon Earth, maybe an alternate name. But since when did Earth mess in with the magical creatures of Xanth?

But on occasion a reader suggestion becomes an important element of a novel, and that happened here too. Such as the Six Rings of Xanth. The suggestion was for Five Rings, but I modified it to add the Ring of Idea. Much of the novel is structured around the quest for those phenomenal Rings.

And sometimes something weird happens. You see, most suggestions I use, and credit in the Author's Note, and that's it. But sometimes I need a name for a suggested character, and then I may simply borrow the name of the one who suggested it. I do this irregularly and somewhat whimsically, so that I don't get flooded with requests to put every reader's name in; a reader can be surprised to discover his/her name in the main story. Usually it is merely a passing reference, of no real consequence. But sometimes it gets complicated. There is a huge example in this novel. As I finished the prior novel,
The Dastard,
a notion came in that just missed that one; it was too late to include it. So it became the first reader suggestion for the following novel, which is this one. It was that there should be a quest to seek a Mundane person who would be the only one who could get something important in Xanth. Well, I was working out the story of the Swell Foop, and this fit right in: a Mundane could be the one to find it. So I took the name of the one who suggested it, Jaylin. But as the story line filled out, that character became more important; in fact, she became one of the six viewpoint characters of the novel. She also had a more challenging role than anticipated. One that might not be considered appropriate for a real person.

I pondered, then wrote to Jaylin's mother. As it happens, I know her; she's three days older than my elder daughter, and sends me eye-catching Hawaiian calendars. So I explained the situation, and offered to change the name of the character. That is, Jaylin would still get credit for the notion, but would not be named as the character. But she decided that it was all right to leave the name, and so her daughter became a character in the novel. All because Jaylin sent in a notion just too late for the prior novel, and I stuck her name on it.

As it happened, I wrote this novel in two parts. Back in Mayhem 1999 I had finished writing
DoOon Mode
and was set to proofread the five novels of the Bio of a Space Tyrant series I was putting back into print via Xlibris, a selfpublishing service. But the new scanner we had gotten wasn't working, and while we struggled with that delay, I went ahead and wrote the first two chapters of
Foop
. I don't like to waste time. Then we finally got the scanner working; it turned out to be a conflict between it and the modem, and my wife scanned the novels into the computer and I proofread them and made notes for the sixth novel in that series,
The Iron Maiden.
But before I finished that the
Princess Rose
movie project came up, with a short deadline, and then I had to return to Foop because my spare time was gone. Before I finished, I had to pause to proofread the galleys for the republished edition of the tenth Xanth novel,
Vale of the Vole.
So it was a busy and somewhat fragmented summer. Maybe there are writers who can start a novel and finish it without interruption; I don't seem to be one of them.

In fact, those were only the literary interruptions. There were also mundane ones. Once I got a modem and learned how to do email and go on the Internet, life became faster. The Internet moves much more rapidly than real life does. My regular correspondence slowed to about a hundred letters a month, but three hundred emails a month to [email protected] made up the difference. I read them all, but let www.hipiers.com send routine answers to most. Reader suggestions started coming in by email, complicating my credits when all I had was the online name. Sometimes I didn't catch the name at all, so the present list is imperfect.

It got worse. Internet publishing was growing, where books are done electronically and downloaded to the computers of those who buy them, to be read onscreen. New publishers were appearing, and I wanted to know more about them, because I receive many queries from readers who are hopeful writers: How and where can they get published? The answer is that perhaps only one in a hundred will be published conventionally, but many more could achieve it electronically. But I knew little about it. So I started my own ongoing survey of Internet Publishers, and ran it on HiPiers, updating it every two months. This was of course just my observation and opinion, not worth more or less than any other person's, but it represented my answer to my readers. Now they knew what I knew about it, and could be guided accordingly. I got feedback from both publishers and writers, some with quite useful information, positive and negative. I am known in some circles as The Ogre; that began with a false accusation decades ago, but I like it because I really am pretty ornery when it comes to telling the truth or standing my ground when I believe I am right. I got into trouble for that in college, and in the U.S. Army, and as a writer. I think a lie is an abomination, and I have on occasion gone to law when deceived or cheated, making my case the hard way. Ogres are hard to silence, being justifiably proud of their stupidity. There was a stir when I blew the whistle on an Internet publisher who wasn't paying royalties, but generally response has been positive. Most of the publishers seem to be good, and I support Internet publishing on general principle, because I think it is good for writers. I had a conflict of interest, because I had invested in two publishers. So I identified those publishers, so others would know where I might be biased. I didn't invest to make money, but to do my bit to give every hopeful writer a fair chance to realize his/her dream. Venture capital investing is a scary business, resembling high-stakes gambling, not something a duffer should get into, but I have already mentioned the ogre mentality. At such time as I kick that bucket in the Void, I hope to be remembered for two things: writing some good books, and helping change Parnassus (the publishing system) for the better.

Because of that investment, I was on the board of directors of Xlibris, the one where I was republishing my old novels. They had a board meeting in Philadelphia, but when I tried to attend it, my usual problems with traveling manifested, in this case bad weather. Hurricane Floyd swiped at Florida, disrupting air travel, and moved on to Philadelphia, severely wetting North Carolina on the way. In fact, there were pigs on the roofs of barns because of the flooding. So the board meeting was postponed a week, and I hope the folk who got wet didn't catch on why that storm came at that time.

And if that wasn't bad enough, I became senile. Um, let me rephrase: I became a senior citizen. I turned sixty-five and went on Medicare. Maybe that's why I lacked the wit to figure out the rule for zombies and magic talents: Do they keep them or lose them? I had it happening both ways. I think I'll have to leave it to my smart readers to figure out a consistent rule. But no, I don't have the wit to quit writing; I have no plan to retire. I simply like writing too much to stop. So I continue with my exercise program, jogging, cycling, archery, and so on, all at the duffer level, staying physically fit.

Meanwhile family life is fine; my wife and I had our forty-third anniversary quietly at home. Our daughters are grown and on their own. Penny is a doula and midwife assistant in Oregon; you may not find "doula" in your dictionary, as the term is new, so I'll clarify it here. It is a person who helps an expectant mother through the process. If you plan to have a baby, and are daunted by the prospect of advancing pregnancy and giving birth, hire a doula. She will put you at ease, whether this means helpful advice or holding your hand or getting help when things go wrong. She will if you wish go with you to the doctor or hospital or do other things related to healthy childbearing, such as find authorities on breast feeding, as she will know how to make such contacts. In short, she will be your friend when you most need one. Cheryl works in the editorial department of a small-town newspaper. That doesn't mean she writes editorials; she does copyediting, spot revision, spot graphics, page layout, computer database maintenance, phone liaison, and the other invisible things that make a newspaper work. Once there was a problem with the long distance phone connection, so Cheryl called her mother locally, and my wife called the phone company long distance, and they got on it and fixed the problem. The man said it was the first time he'd been called by a client's mother. And of course there's our big dog, Obsidian, the one who believes that anything in the universe can be improved by the addition of a cold wet nose. I put her in my online novel
Realty Check,
where all the other characters are fictional.

We live on our small tree farm, and in this period we had the trees thinned. The slash pines were planted in tight rows, but they have been growing for twenty years, and need to be better spaced out to achieve full growth. So every third row was taken out and sold for pulp. I was sorry that some trees had to die, but it is a farm and has to be managed properly. Meanwhile the grass and shrubbery will grow in those vacated rows, providing browsing for deer and gopher tortoises and the rest. We regard it as an unofficial wildlife refuge; the only thing we allow to be hunted is the feral pigs, because they tear up the ground and ruin it for all the rest. These days when I walk through the forest I carry a boar spear, not to hunt boar, but to make sure they don't hunt me.

Readers continue to ask about Jenny, who was struck by a drunk driver and paralyzed at age twelve. At this writing she is eleven years older, still paralyzed, but preparing to go to college. It is a long, slow haul, when her mobility is so limited, but she's trying. Her character Jenny Elf is married now, and I shall have to figure out what the stork is bringing her. Fortunately I have another year to ponder that.