“If you have to,” Wira said, “you can strike someone else. But you probably won’t have to, because he will not be able to strike you. Not with any effect.”
“Thank you,” Breanna repeated. Now she truly appreciated the protection racket.
“However, you could be abused slowly, so do not depend on it overmuch,” the Gorgon said. “It is an emergency measure.”
“Abused slowly?” There was no answer.
“I think she means seduction,” Justin said.
“Oh.” Now she understood, and realized why the Gorgon would not say more. She did not know that Breanna was already party to aspects of the Adult Conspiracy.
“But you must be tired,” the Gorgon said. “I understand you traveled all night.”
“Well, that’s what I do. My talent is to see in the dark, so I normally sleep by day.”
“You may use my room,” Wira said. “I don’t need it by day.”
Breanna was indeed tired. “Thank you,” she said once more, as Wira led her to another chamber.
She lay down on Wira’s nice bed and disappeared into sleep.
In the late afternoon Justin’s voice woke her. “You may want to clean up for dinner,” he suggested diplomatically.
Not only that, she was fit to burst. She headed for the bathroom. Then she paused. “Do you have to be with me all the time?”
“I believe I can return my consciousness to my tree-self for a while, if you wish.”
“Without Mare Imbri’s help? And if you get there, could you return here?”
“I am not certain,” he said uncertainly.
She reconsidered. “Don’t risk it, Justin. If you don’t know how girls do it by now, it’s time you learned. Stick around.” She resumed her trip to the bathroom. It wasn’t as if he were physically present, after all.
Thereafter, she found a basin and pitcher with water, and a sponge, so she stripped and washed up. It was good to get clean, after her wearing night and morning.
“You still here?” she inquired as she found a towel and dried off.
“Yes,” Justin said. “But if you prefer me to depart—”
“No, it’s too risky, and by now you’ve seen it all.” She was struck by another thought. “Did you have a girlfriend, when you were in manform?”
“I regret I did not. I was not—handsome.”
“Handsome is as handsome does,” she said, repeating an ancient outworn adage.
“I did not accomplish much, either. That’s one reason I found I was satisfied to be a tree.
“I think that’s sort of sad, no offense. You should have had some decent human experience, before you lost your chance.” She found a mirror on the wall, and checked herself in it.
“It might have been nice, had a girl like you been interested,” he said. “As it was, I did not have much to regret leaving.”
She held her pose a moment longer, knowing that he could see her clearly in the mirror, because he saw through her eyes. “You would really have liked a girl like me?”
“Oh, indeed, were she but of age.”
“I am of age, by my definition,” she said hotly.
“I apologize. I forgot. Yes, I would have liked a girl like you very much.”
She had been thinking of color and form rather than age, but concluded that he had answered those too. She was pleased. She wrapped the towel around herself and returned to the bedroom.
Another dress had been laid out for her, together with appropriate underclothing. The Good Magician’s folk were good hosts. She got dressed, and found that this outfit fit her perfectly. Someone must have judged her measurements by the fit of the slip and other dress, and made alterations.
She touched up her hair, then went to the door. Wira was there. “If you care to join us for dinner, you are welcome.”
“I’m famished.” The cheese had been good, but hardly enough to sustain her.
There were the Good Magician, the Gorgon, Wira, and a nondescript man who turned out to be Hugo, the son of Humfrey and the Gorgon. His talent was summoning fruit, but it didn’t work well, so that much of the fruit was spoiled. So their fruit was from elsewhere, fortunately.
Dinner was formal, with elegant plates, goblets, and dishes. Breanna suddenly realized that she wasn’t up to this. She had never been at a formal dinner before. She didn’t know the etiquette. She was sure to mess up.
“How do I get out of this?” she asked Justin desperately. “I’m hungry as all get out, but I’m a dunce at this sort of thing.”
“As it happens, I am familiar with the protocol,” Justin said. “It was one of those useless things I learned. If you care for guidance—”
“Yes!” There was a great answer.
And so he guided her through it, telling her which piece of tableware to use when and how, and to sip rather than gulp, and tear bread in half before buttering, and all the rest, and she behaved perfectly. She discovered a certain grace in the procedure, and by the end of the meal she was actually enjoying it. The food was very good too.
They had recovered her knapsack, and stocked it with extra food. Breanna was not used to such kindness, and didn’t know what to say. But Justin stepped in with advice, and she was able to thank them all graciously.
At dusk Ralph arrived. He was a slovenly-looking man in rumpled clothing and a sneer. “So where’s this nymph I have to guide?” he demanded.
Breanna opened her mouth, but Justin intercepted her retort before it got out. “Don’t get into a war of words with this dragon dung,” he advised. “You will only be dragged down to his level.”
So she stifled it, and merely said “Here I am.”
He looked at her contemptuously. “A black brat.”
Already she was getting to dislike him. But all she said was “Let’s go.”
They left the castle together. Breanna touched the pocket to feel the outline of the racket, making double sure it was there.
“So what’s this nonsense about traveling in the night?” Ralph demanded with a sneer in his tone. “Afraid to be seen by day?”
She opened her mouth, but again Justin got to it first. “Don’t let him engage you in argument. He’s just trying to make you react, so you will be in his power.”
He was right. “Trust a man to know the ways of a man,” she said silently to Justin, but with a mental picture of a smile so he would know it wasn’t serious.
“You are young, but you are pretty,” he said seriously. “They were wise to give you the racket. This is not the kind of adventure we want to experience.”
“For sure.”
“You too stupid to answer?” Ralph demanded.
“I just happen to prefer night for traveling,” she said aloud.
“So you can disappear in the darkness?”
He was trying to needle her about her dark skin. “Yes.”
“You must be good at that.”
“Yes.” If she had had a cherry bomb, she would have stuffed it into his smirk.
They walked on for a while. Ralph had a magic lantern so he could see his way. Breanna of course did not need it, but she did not see fit to inform the man of that.
Unfortunately, he soon thought of it for himself. “So what’s your talent?”
Now she had to tell him, or balk. That would get them into another verbal tussle. “How can I avoid telling him?” she asked Justin.
“It is best not to lie, because that puts you on his level. But if you refuse to tell him, he will simply keep badgering you until you do tell. Perhaps challenge is best: ask him his own talent.”
“What’s yours?” she asked Ralph.
“If I show you mine, will you show me yours?”
There was something about that phrasing she didn’t much like, but it seemed a fair deal. It wasn’t as if she were protecting life and death information. “Okay.”
“Well, I can’t.”
“Huh?” she asked, and immediately wished Justin had intercepted that crude utterance.
>
“That’s why I came to the Good Magician. To get my talent.”
“But your talent’s always with you,” she protested.
“Not in this case. Do you want the whole story?”
“He’s up to something,” Justin warned. “I can tell by the sneakiness in his manner. I think he wants to learn more about you, so he’s telling you more about him. So as to get the two of you informationally closer. But he really doesn’t care about your character.”
“I’m sure,” she agreed sourly. “But he’s got me curious. What’s the harm in it?”
“There more he learns of you, the better he will be able to exploit your weaknesses, so as to have his way with you.”
“Way? What way?”
“Stork summoning, for one thing.”
“In his foul dreams!”
“To be sure.”
“But if the racket protects me from harm—” She paused, suddenly alarmed, remembering the Gorgon’s veiled warning. “That is considered harm?”
“Unwilling stork summoning? To be sure. Especially considering your age, no offense.”
“Okay, so I should be safe if I resist it, and I will. I’m going to go for the information.”
“As you wish. I admit to being curious myself.”
“You seem to be a young woman of many dark silences,” Ralph remarked.
There were some verbal digs again. Dark silences for a Black Wave girl. “I have a small brain. It takes time to process big questions.”
He laughed, not nicely. “Few things are more appealing than a stupid girl. So have you decided, or do you need another hour?”
She wanted to let him have a dragonfire blast of invective, but stifled it with Justin’s help. “Tell me your story.”
“When I was young, I seemed to lack a magic talent. At first folk thought I was magically obnoxious, but various tests demonstrated that my personality was entirely natural. So obviously it was the others who did not appreciate my charm and intelligence. Maybe they resented my delightful nature.”
“What a load of sphinx manure!”
“That must have been it,” Breanna agreed aloud.
“In due course I tired of trying to discover my talent on my own,” Ralph continued. “So I went to see Magician of Information. The challenges were horrific, but I demolished them by detonating cherries and pineapples, and managed to get inside. The stupid sluts of the household wouldn’t speak to me, so I forged on up to the gnarled old gnome’s cell and demanded my Answer.”
“What cheek!”
“That must really have impressed him.”
“Humfrey looked up with his fried-egg orbs and grumped, ‘I know why you’re here, and I’m not going to help, so you might as well go away now.’
“I was of course furious, with considerable justice. ‘I can think of only two reasons why you won’t help me,’ I informed him forthrightly. ‘You are either jealous of my talent, or incapable of discovering it. Both choices show that you are nothing but a pretender and a fool.’ ”
“The effrontery of this idiot is phenomenal!”
“You sure told him,” Breanna agreed aloud. She discovered that she was after all enjoying this exchange. It was nice seeing Justin get worked up.
“But the over-the-hill Magician responded with faked patience. ‘I know all about your talent, young man. It is currently residing safely in Mundania with a little boy named Lija. I suggest that you count your dubious blessings and go home.’ ”
“Beware, Breanna; he is walking too close to you.”
“I noticed,” she replied mentally. “I want to see if this racket works.”
“ ‘What are you talking about, old man?’ I demanded righteously. ‘How can some horrid little brat in Mundania have my talent? No one in Mundania has any magic, as you would know if you weren’t in your dotage. That’s why we call it Mundania. Even the ogres know that.’ ”
“If I had a mouth, I would vomit.”
Breanna kept silent. She had a mouth, but it was only a giggle she had to stifle. Ralph’s self-described arrogance was a thing almost of beauty.
“Obviously he couldn’t refute me, so he changed the subject. ‘Not all magic is good magic,’ he uttered.
“ ‘What are you talking about, imbecile?’ I demanded reasonably.”
“He is putting his arm around you.”
“I know. He stinks. But I want to be quite sure I’m protected, in case he ever catches me off-guard.”
“ ‘Some magic that is too dangerous or unpleasant for Xanth is sent to Mundania, where it can be safely disposed of,’ he said. ‘It is the best way to handle toxic waste. Somehow your particular talent was strong enough to survive in Mundania despite the extreme thinness of magic there. It took up residence with a small boy.’
“ ‘So my talent is strong enough to survive in Mundania!’ I gloated. ‘It must be Magician caliber! No wonder you’re jealous, you decrepit has-been. I knew I was destined for greatness. I don’t want some fool Mundane getting the benefit of my talent. How do I get it back?’ ”
“He is trying to squeeze your pert posterior.”
“I can’t feel a thing.”
“ ‘You are not listening,’ Humfrey said, seeming suddenly weary. ‘Somehow I am not surprised. But trust me: you do not want your talent back. My best advice is to leave well enough alone.’
“ ‘Sure you would say that, you feeble freak. But I’m not going to let you get away with it. Tell me how to get what’s coming to me!’ ”
“Now he is trying to squeeze the left portion of your bosom.” There was a more specific word for the region, but Justin was too polite to use it.
“No force is coming through. It’s as if my dress is armored.”
“ ‘You would be better off going to Demon University, crashing Professor Grossclout’s lecture on monster evolution, and mooning him. At least then your end would be roasted rapidly. Now go away.’
“ ‘Not until you get me my talent back, you stunted fraud. I DEMAND MY TALENT!’
“Finally I got through to the dimwitted midget. ‘Very well, if that is the way it must be,’ he said grudgingly. ‘I will arrange to return your talent to you. But it will take time to accomplish. Meanwhile you must render me your Service.’
“ ‘I’ll do that, you overcharging charlatan. What do I have to do?’
“ ‘Return in two days to guide a damsel to the Isle of Women.’
“And so you see me here, guiding you,” Ralph concluded his narrative. “But before you tell me your story, how about a kiss?”
“Tell him no!”
“No.”
“Girls have such quaint ways of saying yes.” He put both arms around her, holding her securely, and brought his face down toward hers.
“I said no, you brazen creep! Let me go.”
But he held her tightly. “One little kiss, to warm things up,” he said, his mouth bearing down on hers.
“I’m only fifteen!” she cried, turning her face away.
“What delightful youth.” He lifted her up so that her feet lost purchase with the ground, then dropped down to the ground with her. “Let’s get that dress off you before it gets dirty.” He reached across to get hold of it.
“If you are quite satisfied that he won’t let you go voluntarily, it may be time to fight back,” Justin remarked.
“How?”
“Remember, he can’t actually touch you; he’s just clasping the entire protected package. But you can touch him.”
“Say, that’s right!” Breanna’s arms were pinned to her sides, and her legs were caught under his, but her head was loose. She remembered how she had punched a hole in the wall. Would it work the same way with her head?
“You want a kiss?” she said, forcing a smile as she turned her face back to his.
“Sure, before we get on to the main business.”
“Then take this.” She lifted her head, ramming her face into his, hard.
She felt nothing much
, but his head rocked back, and a bit of blood appeared at his nose. She had banged it with her forehead. It was a dent rather than a smash, but surely painful.
He let go of her, grabbing his face. “Oooo!” Then he fished for a handkerchief.
Now her hands were free. She remembered a trick she had heard about, to stop the close approach of an unwanted face. She extended one finger and put it sidewise under his sore nose. She pushed up and inward, and his face moved back because of the discomfort. In that manner she shoved him off and got to her feet. “Oh, was that kiss too hard?” she asked with mock solicitation. “Want another?”
“Nooo!” he moaned, rolling away. It really wasn’t that much of an injury, but maybe he wasn’t used to getting pushed back.
“Maybe some other time.”
“I suspect that suffices. You have made your point.”
“Yeah,” she said with satisfaction.
She waited while he got the handkerchief and tended to his nose. Then she pretended innocence. “Let’s get on to the Isle of Women. Maybe you’ll feel better by then.”
He stared at her, but evidently decided to let things be for the moment. He didn’t know about the protection racket; maybe he thought she had gotten in a lucky blow. So he might try again. But probably not right away. Meanwhile, she had truly verified the power of the racket. Now she felt safe. As long as she didn’t cooperate, she could not be damaged.
They resumed their walk, and Ralph did not try to put his hands on her again. Soon it got dull.
“I didn’t tell you about me,” Breanna said, preferring any kind of dialog to silence. “I have this talent of seeing in the dark, so I mostly am up by night and sleep by day.”
“That explains that.”
“But I got kissed by a zombie prince who found me sleeping. Now he wants to marry me, so I’m fleeing. That’s why I went to the Good Magician, and why I’m going to the Isle of Women. I should be safe there.”
“I doubt it.”
“You do? Why?”
“What will you do for me if I tell you?”
Zombie Lover Page 15
