Currant Events

by Piers Anthony

  "We do," they said almost together. Because, Clio realized, it was convenient and fast.

  Zaven handed the spancel to Clio. "I don't think we'll need this anymore. I now know my destiny."

  Clio looked at the compass. The blue arrow pointed right to the spancel. It must always have been that, rather than the zombie woman. That was what she had come for.

  "It seems you do," Clio agreed, folding the spancel and fitting it carefully into a free pocket. At this rate she was running out of pockets.

  Then she realized that there was still a problem. "Thesis, you are researching the origin of the spancel. Don't you still need it for that?"

  "Yes, but I can no longer carry it. It can't remain long in contact with a person it has enchanted; the magic reflection would damage it. So someone else will have to carry it, and I'll come along. If that's all right."

  It had to be all right, because the blue arrow said she needed it. The permutations of the directions of the arrow were devious, but had to be followed. "Yes. But I hope your research can be wrapped up soon."

  "Very soon," Thesis agreed. "Now that I have my life back, thanks to my beloved." She kissed Zaven again.

  Would the spancel do that for her, with Sherlock? Was that why she had been directed to it? The notion was intriguing. But she didn't have to take any hasty action, as long as the spancel remained in her possession. If she used it on herself, she wouldn't be able to carry it anymore, so it was best to wait.

  Within the hour there was a brief wedding ceremony attended mostly by zombies. Then Zaven and Thesis returned to her zombie chamber.

  "I love a good romance," Breanna said, mopping up a tear.

  "So do I," Clio said, mopping her own.

  "We'll have to let them be for the night. I remember how it was with Justin. We—" Her eye fell on Ciriana. "Were busy. Tomorrow you can be on your way. I'll assign a room for you." Breanna paused. "You are a couple?"

  "We can share a room," Sherlock said. "With Ciriana."

  "Oh—one of those slow difficult romances?"

  "So it seems," Clio agreed.

  "It was that way, too, with Justin, at first. He was a tree and I was underage. But once those things changed, we really stirred up the storks." She smiled reminiscently.

  They had a nice room for the night. When Ciriana slept, they talked, briefly. "I could use the spancel, once Thesis' research is done."

  "No."

  "No?"

  "I want you to love me, if you do, because it is the natural thing for you to do. That will happen only if it makes practical and emotional sense to you."

  "If I don't die first!" she flared.

  "I'm sorry," he said, hurt.

  "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Of course you're right. It has to be natural. But we do have a time limit, whatever it is."

  "We do," he agreed. "It's a gamble. I hate gambling, but it is the way it must be."

  "And the way you saved the Acquaintance Ship. I remain unsettled about that."

  "So do I," he agreed. "I did what I had to do, but it was beyond what I thought I could do. I worked through reverse wood, but this time I actually converted regular wood to it, at least on a temporary basis."

  "Temporary?"

  "When the storm abated, the reversal did not continue. The wood reverted to normal. Otherwise there would have been unusual effects as people touched the rail."

  He was right. He had done something special, for the time required. "This strikes me as more than mere power over reverse wood."

  "Or at least a broader power over it. To conjure it, transform it, limit it—it's all reverse wood."

  "What about when I got doused by Lethe Elixir?"

  "I must have touched a chip of reverse wood to that, to reverse its effect."

  "I suppose." She remained less than satisfied, but what other explanation was there? "Talents vary in strength. Yours still seems to be growing."

  "At least when I get desperate." On that unsettled note, they held hands and slept.

  * * *

  Next day they set off on a new blue arrow direction, with the addition of Thesis to their party. This time they had a new kind of transportation: a huge zombie sphinx. It didn't talk, it just walked, but that seemingly slow amble covered ground at a phenomenal rate.

  "Does anyone have any idea where we're going?" Clio asked.

  "Surely to Castle Roogna, and Princess Ida," Thesis answered. "Thence to planet Ptero. This is where Morgan le Fay resides."

  "Who?"

  "She is a nefarious Sorceress with much evil on her atrophied conscience. She made the spancel."

  "I am in a position to know of all Magicians and Sorceresses who are or have been active in Xanth," Clio said carefully. "How is it I do not know of her?"

  "Well, she's Mundane."

  "But there's no magic in Mundania."

  "There's very little magic there now. But there was more in the past. Morgan le Fay dates from more than a thousand years in Mundania's past. She was the fairy half-sister of King Arthur, and used the spancel to enchant him so that he summoned his illegitimate son Mordred with her. Both he and Morgan were nothing but trouble for him, and finally succeeded in destroying him. After that there was no mischief remaining for her to do there, and the magic was diminishing, so she departed. She hasn't been active in Xanth. In fact she's been in hiding, and was not pleased when my researches uncovered her presence."

  "Inactive," Clio said. "That explains it."

  "Does her displeasure have anything to do with your becoming a zombie?" Sherlock inquired shrewdly.

  "Everything," Thesis said. "But I was not willing to be balked, so close to the completion of my project."

  "What happened? She shouldn't have power in Xanth, if she's just a spirit on Ptero."

  "She doesn't. But there are those who owe her favors. One was a demon. He fashioned himself into a pillow on a bush, and placed himself in my way. I harvested him, took him inside, and slept with my head on him. When I was asleep, he turned over and smothered my face. I was caught by surprise, and died before I could free myself." Thesis smiled grimly. "Now I have a long hat pin to use to stab any other pillow demon. But I was already dead, and the best I could do was fight to retain the half-life of a zombie. I lost much of a year, and wandered aimlessly for some time, retaining only the spancel, until Castle Zombie took me in. It was very frustrating to be unable to communicate my situation to them."

  "I'll try to help you to never be frustrated again," Zaven said, kissing her.

  "That will certainly help," she said, kissing him back. Clio tried not to wince; she wished so much she could have a relationship like that, freed of all reservations.

  "So why are you—and we—going to Morgan?" Sherlock asked. "Won't she just try to kill us all?"

  "I doubt it. She is devious and subtle. She doesn't like to show her hand directly. She'll more likely try to hide, or to persuade us to desist. But I mean to deliver the spancel to her, and be done with it."

  "Why take it to her?" Clio asked.

  "Because it is only through the spancel that she can track me or anyone else, beyond Ptero. Once she has it back, she will have no power in Xanth."

  "Couldn't you simply throw it away?" Sherlock asked.

  "An invaluable magic artifact like that? Never. It must be disposed of properly. Otherwise someone else might find it."

  "How did the spancel get into Xanth?" He seemed to have a genius for relevant questions.

  "That I don't know. It's one of the last missing pieces of the puzzle of it. She used it on King Arthur, then it disappears from the record. I was able to locate it only by my ability to orient on foreign magic."

  "You can locate non-Xanth magic?" Sherlock asked.

  "That's my talent, limited as it is. But it does help in my research. I didn't know what the spancel was when I found it; thereafter I researched, and learned a good deal. My best conjecture is that someone else brought it to Xanth, then lost it. It must have be
en lost for a thousand years. But once I took it, Morgan was able to track me, and knew I was investigating its origin, which meant I would find her. So she stopped me. Until Zaven restored me." She kissed him again.

  And now Clio was involved with the spancel and its mystery. This time she didn't need to guess what danger she might encounter; it was Morgan le Fay. But how could this possibly relate to her own mission of finding the Currant, the red berry? Her quest had been remarkably devious and dangerous, and she still had no idea of its ending, except that it might literally be the death of her.

  Sherlock took her hand and squeezed it. That made her feel better, illogical as that might be.

  By midday they hove into sight of Castle Roogna.

  "We've been here before," Clio remarked.

  "Perhaps you have," Sherlock said. "I have not, since associating with you."

  "And neither have we," Zaven said.

  "That's right: I have, but I was alone, then with the dragons."

  "Lets hope that there is strength in numbers."

  They were going to face a hostile foreign Sorceress. Numbers were unlikely to help much.

  The three little Princesses came out to greet them, appearing on the back of the sphinx. "Back again, Muse?" Melody asked brightly.

  "Yes, I—"

  "With new friends?" Harmony added.

  "Yes, Sherlock,—"

  "To see Aunt Ida," Rhythm concluded.

  "Zaven, Thesis, and Ciriana," Clio finished.

  "Oh, a child!" Melody exclaimed, delighted.

  "You don't need to take her to Ptero," Harmony said.

  "Come with us," Rhythm told Ciriana. "We've got eye scream." She took the child's hand, and the four of them vanished.

  "But—" Clio started, in vain.

  "She'll be in good hands, I'm sure," Sherlock said. "Did you really want to take her to Ptero?"

  "No, actually. In fact, there's surely no need for you to risk yourself there either. We'll just return the spancel to Morgan, and then I'll see where the arrow points."

  "Let you face an evil Sorceress alone? I think not."

  "As you wish." She really appreciated his loyalty.

  "I wouldn't care to risk you either," Thesis told Zaven. "But I can't stand to be apart from you." They kissed.

  "And you'd revert to zombie without me," he said. They kissed again.

  Something snapped in Clio. She turned to Sherlock, hauled his face in to her, and kissed him soundly.

  The three Princesses with Ciriana in tow reappeared. "OoOo, we saw!" Melody cried.

  "You kissed!" Harmony agreed.

  "You smacked him!" Rhythm said.

  "Right on the face," Ciriana concluded.

  "Now just a—" Clio began. But they were already gone in a cloud of giggles.

  "They aren't taking long about educating Ciriana," Sherlock said. "Sneaking peeks must be a favorite palace occupation."

  The sphinx came to a halt and settled down so they could dismount. There was a rope ladder for them to use to reach the ground. The four of them climbed down. Then the sphinx rose and walked back toward Castle Zombie. In barely a moment and a half it was out of sight.

  "Do you know the mechanics of going to Ptero?" Clio asked Thesis.

  "Oh, yes, I learned that when I researched Morgan le Fay. I have never been there myself, however."

  "It's actually just a soul visit," Clio said. "But it will seem quite physical. You can't actually die there, but otherwise your experience will be real."

  "Yes, I'm sure. We'll return the spancel and be done with it. I hope, however, that Morgan will condescend to answer a few questions for my dissertation."

  "Why would she do that?"

  "Evil Magicians and Sorceresses crave attention. I'll give her full credit for making the spancel, and detail where she got it, if she provides the information. She may want that. If not—" Thesis shrugged. "I'll write what I have. It isn't as though my life has no other interests." She kissed Zaven.

  Clio had to marvel. The two had spent what had surely been a thorough night fulfilling their love, but still it spilled over into the day. She really was jealous of that surplus emotion. Yet so far she simply hadn't been able to experience it herself.

  She pondered that as they walked into the castle. Sherlock was certainly a worthy man, and he loved her. Why couldn't she let herself go and love him similarly?

  "Why hello again, Princess," Princess Ida said as they arrived at her door.

  Princess: that was it. Despite what she had told Sherlock, she was a princess, and in her secret heart wanted to marry a prince or Magician. Logically she didn't have to, but her early conditioning was a belief system, not a logic system. It would rather see her a spinster, than married to a commoner. "Darn!" she swore, and small blue sparks flew.

  Four people stared at her.

  Clio felt herself turning medium to bright red. "Oh, I—I'm sorry," she stammered. "I had a chain of thought, and it overcame me. I didn't mean you, Princess Ida."

  "Of course not," Ida agreed. She was a very agreeable person. "The dragons told me."

  "Told you what?" Clio asked, alarmed.

  "I'm a princess too. I suffer the same reservation, and the same annoyance. I don't want to remain single forever, yet I continue to age without marrying."

  She really did understand. Clio was overcome. "Oh, it's awful!"

  Then they were hugging each other, and crying, while Sherlock looked on bewildered and Zaven and Thesis kissed, oblivious to the rest of the universe.

  In due course they untangled. "It's a princess thing," Ida explained to Sherlock. He nodded, but surely remained uneasy.

  "Theoretically there is a Magician from long ago, in the Brain Coral's pool, who is my ideal match," Ida said. "I am told our children will have little moons like mine. But so far that Magician has not emerged, and I don't know when he ever will. It is an unkind wait."

  "Oh, yes," Clio agreed.

  The three Princesses appeared, with Ciriana in tow. "She needs to stay with you," Melody said, a bit tersely.

  "We're sorry," Harmony added.

  "But it's necessary," Rhythm concluded.

  They vanished, leaving Ciriana looking somewhat unhappy. Clio went to her. "What happened, dear?"

  "I said a word," the child confided tearfully.

  So the nullification wasn't perfect. It seemed there was only so much a reverse wood chip could do. "That's all right; you can come with us after all." Though Clio wasn't notably easy about that, either.

  Ida reviewed the procedure for the others, then let them sniff from her vial of elixir. Soon they were on their way to Ptero. They landed in a wilderness area and took stock as their bits of soul solidified to form replicas of themselves.

  "The rules of magic are different here," Clio said. "Colors vary according to direction. Blue is north, red is south, green is west, yellow is east. Also, when you travel east you go into the past, and west takes you into the future. You age accordingly. Sherlock and I can handle several decades, but you young lovers can't. So let's hope that my compass arrow brought us to the time where Morgan le Fay dwells."

  It had. The blue arrow pointed south, and there was a path there. It led right into a comic strip.

  "One more thing," Clio said grimly. "The comic strips. They are bands separating the various sections of the planet, and they contain the most egregious awful festering puns. Stay out of them if at all possible."

  Then a path opened, through the comic strip. The massed puns were squeezed to the sides, groaning in protest. The blue arrow pointed toward it. Was it a trick? Well, there was one way to find out.

  Clio took Ciriana's hand and led the way through the strip, following the path. No puns impinged. They strained at the sides, eager to get at the visitors, but were restrained.

  Beyond was a neat cottage, similar to those on the Acquaintance Ship. Before its door stood a comely older woman in a royal cloak. That had to be Morgan le Fay.

  "Welcome to my a
bode," she said. "I saw you coming."

  "Beware," Drew said privately. "She's a mean person."

  "Thank you for providing a way past the comic strip," Clio said, though she was uncertain of the woman's motivation.

  "Unfortunately it is a one-way path," Morgan said.

  They turned to look. The comic strip had closed in behind them. They were trapped, perhaps.

  "She won't let you go," Drew said.

  "We'll see about that," Sherlock said.

  "We have come to return your spancel to you," Clio said. "We have no other business we know of, though if you care to answer some questions, Thesis would appreciate it." She drew the spancel from her pocket and proffered it to the woman.

  "Thank you, Muse," Morgan said, taking the spancel. "It is good to have this back at long last."

  "How did you come to lose it?"

  The woman sighed. "I got so involved with Arthur that I forgot about it. I conjured myself back home before I remembered. By that time it was too late; I couldn't breach the king's castle defenses a second time. Fortunately I had what I had come for: my baby. Perhaps a servant threw the spancel out, not knowing its nature. Servants tend to be ignorant louts."

  That seemed to be enough of an answer. "Thank you," Clio said. "We'll be leaving now."

  "Not just yet, I think."

  Clio had been afraid of that. "I don't think we have further business here."

  "Ah, but you do. Did you think I would summon you here only to send you away, my purpose unfulfilled?"

  "Summon?" Clio asked, feeling a chill. "What purpose?"

  "I am at present unable to go to Xanth proper, having lost my mortal body. I need a new body." She looked at Thesis. "Yours should do."

  "You can't have it," Thesis said.

  Morgan's smile was cruel. "And why not?"

  "Three reasons: I am not through with it myself. I am a zombie. And I used the spancel on it."

  The Sorceress considered. "The first reason is of no account to me. The second I doubt; you look fully alive. But the third—you evidently learned more about the spancel than I thought."

  "I did. The spancel will not remain long with a person it has enchanted. You would have to give it up, and with it, much of your power."