xanth 40 - isis orb (8 page)

Soon she rejoined him. “You played that correctly.”

“Thank you. I’m still learning.”

“And I’m still thawing.”

They smiled briefly at each other. Nothing was guaranteed, but the signs were promising.

“I think it’s time for the next Companion,” he said as they stood up to collect their things. “I have no idea who that might be.”

“When you open the box, you see a picture, and a path appears?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And the path is enchanted to be safe? No monsters, no getting lost?”

“Yes. But there’s no guarantee if you step off it. Uh, I was told that if you have a, er, natural function, to do it into a bag and then toss the bag across the line. That way you take no risk.”

“Yes. What I’m thinking is that next time we face a night camping out, that we stay on the path. If it’s between Companions, then invoke the next Companion, then camp on the path that forms. We don’t have to follow the path to the end immediately.”

He gazed at her, impressed. “That’s a clever idea, Feline! Guaranteed safety. No more nervous nights.”

“No more kisses in the scary dark.”

He hesitated, uncertain whether she was teasing him. “I’ll miss that.”

“You won’t be missing much.”

“I’ll miss it a lot! I’m sorry if that turns you off, but when you kissed me I nearly floated into the sky. I’m not going to pretend it’s nothing.”

“Let me clarify,” she said, with an obscure smile. “If I want to kiss you, I’ll kiss you. We don’t have to be in danger or in the dark. Just don’t push it.”

“Oh. I won’t.” But he remained somewhat disappointed, for no good reason.

“Like this.” She stepped into him and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Again, he felt like floating. He had the wit not to put his arms around her.

“Oh. Thank you for that clarification,” he said when she let him go. Indeed, he appreciated it enormously. She could be very friendly, if he just didn’t presume. It was her way. She didn’t mind being appreciated; she just didn’t want to be sought only for her curves. His appreciation of her ideas had been unfeigned; that was what turned her on.

“Open the box.”

Indeed, it was time.

Chapter 4:

Zed

Hapless opened the box. There was a picture of a male centaur with the printed name ZED. But there was something odd about him.

“He’s got stripes!” Feline exclaimed.

So he did. “Black and white, all over his body. Like a mundane zebra,” Hapless agreed.

“And he must want to get rid of them, because other centaurs don’t have them.”

“He must. Centaurs are notoriously conservative. They don’t even like magic.”

“He surely needs us. Well, let’s be on our way.”

“Yes.” This seemed straightforward. Where was the catch?

They started down the enchanted path that had appeared when the box opened. It crossed the stream using a mini bridge that Hapless was sure hadn’t been there before and meandered on into the forest. There was a pretty water lily, but when he tried to touch it, it dissolved into water, which was of course what it was made of.

Above there were pretty clouds, supported by winged foundations. There was something suggestive about them. “What are those?” Hapless asked.

Feline looked. “Flying buttresses. You know, female flying butts.”

“Oh.” He was embarrassed.

“I like this path,” Feline said. “Not only is it safe, it’s fun. Was it like this when you found me?”

“Pretty much.”

A small cloud floated across the path. “What’s happening hear?” it inquired.

They paused, surprised. “Hear?” Hapless asked.

“Present location, not there, at this place—”

“Here?” he asked.

“Whatever,” the cloud agreed irritably. “Are you up to something interesting?”

He was slightly annoyed. “What does a cloud care?”

The cloud expanded, forming a head, arms, legs, and finally a lovely female torso clad in extremely abbreviated apparel. “I’m not a cloud. I’m Demoness Metria. I’m attracted to interesting things.”

“Oh. I’m Hapless. I’m not very interesting.”

“I can see that. But this is an unusual path, and your companion is a cat woman. That could be interesting.”

“You can tell my nature just by looking at me?” Feline asked.

“Crossbreeds are routine, and generally dull,” Metria said. “But ad hoc enchanted paths aren’t common.”

“Add what?” Hapless asked.

“Temporary, special purpose, formed for one reason, with respect to this particular thing, pertaining to—”

“Convenient?”

“Whatever. Wait, that’s not quite right. In fact, I had it right in the first place. Are you trying to mess me up?”

“I just didn’t know the term.”

She glared at him. “Next time, keep your ignorance to yourself.”

His irritation increased. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll flash you with my pan—”

He came to as Feline snapped her fingers near his ear. “… ties,” he heard the demoness conclude. Her short skirt had already dropped back into place. It seemed she had suited action to word.

“We’re just going to help a zebra-striped centaur,” Feline told the demoness. “So leave us alone. It’s not nice to flash innocent strangers.”

“A zebra-striped centaur! Now
that’s
interesting. I’d better stick around.”

“Fudge a la mode!” Feline swore. For some reason it seemed she wasn’t keen on have a shapely panty-flashing demoness join their party.

Metria looked at her cannily. “Or are you just pretending about the stripes, so you can enlist my assistance? I don’t trust this.” She faded out.

“Is she really gone?” Hapless asked.

“Of course she is,” Feline said firmly while shaking her head no. It seemed that she had had some experience with small d demons.

“That’s a relief,” he said. “I don’t want to get flashed again.” Actually he would have liked to have a piece of glass or something to filter the effect, so as to see her panties without freaking out.

Feline fished in her purse. He hadn’t realized that she carried one; maybe it appeared only at need. She brought out a bandana. She stretched it taut across her face, and he realized that she could see him through it, filtered. Then, wordlessly, she handed it to him. She was helping him get his peek, if the opportunity came.

He realized that he was getting to like her pretty well, and not just because of her curves. She understood him, without judging him.

“It’s a good thing she didn’t realize that we’re on a Quest for the Good Magician,” she remarked. “She’d really be curious then.”

Metria reappeared. “I heard that. You’re on a Quest!”

“Oh, fudge,” Feline said. “We thought you were gone.”

“Now get out of here,” Hapless said. “We don’t want your kind along.”

The demoness puffed up, literally. “Tell me all about it, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he demanded.

He managed to get the bandana in place just in time to intercept her flash. And he saw the panties: pink polka dots with nothing inside the dots. He was amazed. He had had no idea that demonesses wore anything like that. Even through the filter, he barely retained awareness. What a peek!

Feline snapped her fingers. “Wake,” she said as Metria dropped her skirt again.

Hapless blinked as if just coming out of a trance. “What happened?”

“She flashed you again. You have to stop aggravating her.”

“Well, our Quest is none of her business.”

“Tell me anyway,” Metria said. “Then maybe I’ll go away, my curiosity satisfied.”

Hapless sighed. “It’s for the Isis Orb, that should grant our wishes. We’re gathering Companions.”

“Isis! She’s worse mischief than I am. That’s saying a lot.”

Could they learn something worthwhile? “What, she’s a demoness?”

“No, she’s a goddess. They rank somewhere between small d demonesses and big D Demonesses. You don’t want to mess with her. Your stupid bandana won’t protect you from
her
panties.”

She had known. She must have wanted him to see without quite freaking.

“You
wanted
him to see!” Feline said accusingly.

“Well, I didn’t come down on the last sunbeam, pussy. Nobody has panties like mine. What use are they if no one remembers them?”

“Point made,” Feline said thoughtfully.

“Just what kind of mischief is Isis?” Hapless asked. He already knew something about the goddess, but if he was destined to tangle with her, he wanted to know as much as he could.

“She likes to make men her love slaves,” Metria answered. “Then she can make them do whatever she wants. Oh, to have power like that! I’d conquer Xanth.”

“You want to conquer Xanth?”

The demoness considered briefly. “Maybe not actually conquer it; ruling it would be too much responsibility. But to have my panties recognized as supreme—that would be fun. All the men would have eyes like pink polka dots.”

“Isis could do that?”

“Yes, if she wanted to. I’m not sure what motivates her. If she wanted to be queen, she could have used the Orb to grant her wish. Instead she just keeps it without actually using it. That’s odd.”

“It is,” Hapless agreed. “What does she look like?”

“Anything she wants to. But always beautiful and sexy. They say there’s no man she can’t seduce in minutes without even showing her panties. I’d like to see her in action; I might learn what little I don’t already know about that.” The hem of her skirt lifted on its own until it almost, but not quite, showed her panties. She evidently had excellent control.

“Well, we’re bound to see her, in due course.”

Metria shrugged. “She wouldn’t need anything special to deal with you. I wouldn’t learn anything. Well, toodle-oo.” She faded out.

“Why am I annoyed?” Hapless inquired rhetorically.

“Because she obviously dismisses you as too easy for a hint,” Feline said. “But she raised a good question: why does Isis keep the Orb if she’s not using it?”

“Maybe she wants folk like us to come for it, like a special flower to attract bees.”

She nodded. “The next question is, then what does she want with us?”

“I have another: why would the Good Magician send us to her?”

“That’s another good one,” she agreed. “Are we mere pawns in some larger game? I don’t like the smell of that.”

“I thought it was Demons who made pawns of people.”

“Well, then, could this be a Demon bet?” she asked. “I heard it was one of those that got Princess Harmony her suitors.”

“If I really thought it was a bet, I’d do my best to mess it up.”

“You can’t mess up a Demon bet. They take all that into consideration. You really can’t do anything about it; one Demon wins and one loses, whichever way it turns out.”

“So I guess we’d better ignore that chance.”

“That’s easiest,” she agreed.

The path soon debouched into a larger track. There in the center of it was a kind of wheeled wagon labeled CENTAUR STAGE COACH.

They paused. “Is that a pun on center stage, or on stage coach?” Hapless asked.

“Both,” a centaur answered, appearing from behind the coach. “Get in.”

“But we’re on a Quest,” Feline protested. “We can’t just ride randomly.”

“This isn’t random,” the centaur said. “It’s available for those on centaur business. Since you’re on a temporary centaur trail, you must qualify.”

Hapless looked at Feline. “Does this make sense?”

“It must. He’s a centaur. They always make sense.”

“It couldn’t be a fake centaur, designed to get us off the enchanted path and into mischief?”

She paused, considering. Then she addressed the centaur. “If I asked you whether you are a fake, what would you say?”

“Of course not. Centaurs don’t do fake.”

“Then thank you for the ride.” She went to the coach and stepped up into it.

“Uh—” Hapless said uncertainly, too late. Then he shrugged and joined her.

The centaur took hold of a strap at the front of the coach and set off down the trail at a trot. Soon they were moving along at a good clip-clop.

“The way I phrased it, he had to give me a true answer, either way,” Feline explained. “So it was a good verification.”

“That is not the case,” the centaur called back. “You confused it with the truth-teller/liar syndrome, where each always honors his code, and the liar lies about what he would have said and so tells the truth. In the real world, the liar knows that sometimes he can be a more effective liar by telling the truth.”

“Uh-oh,” Hapless said, chagrined.

“Fortunately I am legitimate,” the centaur continued. “Enjoy your ride, but be more careful in the future.”

Feline blushed. “I’m sorry. I thought I had it figured.”

Hapless took her hand. “You tried. And it got us a good ride.”

“Brace yourself. I’m going to kiss you.”

“I don’t need to brace myself for—”

She intercepted him with a kiss so forceful that he fell over on the seat. He had needed bracing after all. He had learned not to take too much for granted with women, but he was really getting to like Feline. Would that be mischief?

They rode on, looking out the small windows. The scenery was fairly racing past. In fact the wind of their passage leaked in and chilled them. There was a blanket, which they pulled over them, but their ears still were cold.

“Use the ear wigs,” the centaur called back.

These turned out to be hairy caps—wigs—with padded muffs that did indeed keep their ears warm. “Thank you!” Feline called.

“I think we got the wrong ones,” Feline said.

He looked at her. The wig made her look like an old time barrister. “You look elegant.”

“Thank you. You’re beautiful yourself.”

“I am?”

Then she fetched out her little makeup mirror and handed it to him. He held it up so he could see his own face.

His wig made him into a long-haired blonde.

“Um, maybe we can exchange?”

She pulled off her wig and gave it to him. He gave her his. Now she looked like the blonde, and actually she was quite appealing that way.

She made a wry face. “You like her better than you like me.”