Zombie Lover

by Anthony, Piers

“You can do that? When do you sleep?”

  “I do not require sleep in the same way you do, in my vegetative state.”

  “Okay. Maybe make it every half hour, so I don’t catch the isle at the end, and maybe it vanishes before I can get across to it.”

  “Agreed.”

  She harvested a chocolate pie, ate it, and found a nearby milkweed. She disliked eating anything as white as milk, but some sacrifices had to be made. Then she crawled in under the dock, set her hat aside, arranged the pillows, got herself comfortable, and closed her eyes.

  “Breanna.”

  She came awake, startled. “Oh, is it time to look? It seems like only ten minutes.”

  “It is ten minutes. Ralph is stalking you again.”

  “He is? How can you tell?”

  “I hear him with your ears. I have had decades to attune to normal environmental sounds, and can recognize a human footstep amidst background noise.”

  “Gee. What should I do?”

  “Be ready to resist if he grabs you. So that your racket is quite clear that you need protection.”

  “Got it.” Breanna feigned continued sleep, but was as tense as a spring. Now that Justin had alerted her, she did hear the faint scuffling of human feet. So that rat was still trying to nab her for underage sex! Well, this time maybe she would bash his nose right out the back of his skull. She had been a bit regretful for hurting him, before, but this was just too much. She was sorry she had lost her dagger.

  He came to the dock. He must have been watching her throughout, so as to know exactly where she slept. He figured that if he grabbed her while she was still asleep, he could nail her before she worked up a sufficient protest. Well, he had a surprise coming.

  He reached the dock, and paused. She realized that she probably should have scrambled out from under before he arrived, because here there was very little room to fight. But it was too late to do it now.

  Suddenly he caught hold of her feet and pulled her out. No subtlety at all; he was just grabbing and hauling. As her legs came out, her skirt scraped up around her hips. He shifted his grip to her thighs and hauled again, getting her all the way clear. Then he bent over her and put his hands on her chest. He knew exactly where to grasp, damn him!

  Breanna did it without even thinking. She brought up one foot and planted it in his belly, while clamping her hands on his hands so that he couldn’t move them away. Never mind where his hands were; they would be gone soon enough. Then she shoved hard with that anchored foot. It was an adaptation of the stomach throw, that she had learned as a child in a Mundanian judo class. It was performed when Tori, the thrower, was on his back, and Uki, the throwee, was standing or leaning over. Just like this; it was a perfect defense for a girl on her back. She knew she was showing an awful lot of bare leg, but he wasn’t in any position to gawk.

  He went flying up over her head, his pinned hands becoming the fulcrum. He did a forced somersault and landed with a hard whomp on the dock. Only then did she release his hands. It had worked!

  But as she scrambled to her feet, something weird happened. Ralph went sliding down the dock and landed with a thunk in the boat at the end. Then the boat took off, without paddles, as if it had a hidden motor. It cruised into the water, heading straight out to sea.

  “Hey!” Ralph cried. But there was nothing he could do. The boat was taking him wherever it was going, and it wasn’t stopping.

  “Well, that answers the question of propulsion,” Justin remarked. “It’s magic; it requires no paddle.”

  “But where is it going?”

  “Surely to the Isle of Women.”

  “But the isle’s not there yet.”

  “So I see. Yet the craft is obviously going somewhere”

  “Looks more like nowhere to me.”

  “Evidently the boat isn’t smart enough to realize that its destination is absent, It assumes that anyone who enters it is ready to travel. There must be another dock on the isle to receive it, when the isle is there.”

  “Yes. And when the isle isn’t there, the boat just goes right on, looking for it. So it really is going nowhere fast.”

  “That would seem to be a paradox: a boat going somewhere in a hurry, yet going nowhere.”

  “Paradox!” she cried, a light flashing over her head. She loved that incidental magic of Xanth. “That’s it!”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “That’s the magic pun. Ralph said this dock is called Paradox. That’s pair o’ docks, with the boat going between them. That’s all it knows to do—to shuttle back and forth. But when one dock is missing, it’s got nowhere to go, so it goes nowhere. Somewhere becomes nowhere. Paradox.”

  Justin’s astonishment washed through her. “I believe you are correct, Breanna. There must be a pair o’ docks, or there is paradox. And Ralph is caught in it.”

  “Yeah.” She watched as the boat sped out to sea, becoming smaller as it gained distance. A pair of arms was waving frantically over it. She didn’t have much sympathy.

  “Had you set foot on the dock, that might have been your fate,” Justin said, shaken.

  “Yeah. So I guess Ralph did us a favor, showing us exactly how it works.” She stretched. “Meanwhile, I’m going back to sleep.”

  “To be sure.”

  “If I can relax enough, after that fracas. My heart’s still pounding.”

  “I could sing you a lullaby.”

  She laughed, then paused. “Are you by any off-chance serious?”

  “Yes. I used to be a fair singer, though that was not considered a masculine trait. I often imagined melodies of nature, as a tree, with associated images. I think I could do it in my mind, and you could hear it and see, if you wished.”

  “Gee. Sure. Give it a try.”

  He began to sing, and it was marvelous. It was as if the forest itself were serenading her, with the sound of wind through trees, the movement of birds’ wings, the swishing of the tails of fish in a running stream, and even the gentle drifting of clouds against a deep blue welkin. Sound and image were one, and wonderfully soothing.

  “That’s really great, Justin! Can you do it until I fall asleep?”

  “Yes, I can do it indefinitely. I am glad to have an appreciative audience.”

  “And thanks for alerting me about Ralph.”

  “You are more than welcome. I would not want anything untoward to happen to you”

  “Me neither.” Then she thought of something else. “Can you show me your tree again? I mean, the forest, and all, sure, but your own special tree specifically?”

  “Certainly.” A modified picture formed in her mind, with the tree centered.

  “Thanks. Now I’m sure of it. You’re cute too.”

  She felt her face heating, and knew he was blushing again. Satisfied, she sank back into sleep.

  8

  ISLES OF WO

  Dor woke. He was on the bed in the chamber of Castle Zombie. On adjacent beds his father and son were stirring.

  What a chain of worlds they had seen! He ticked them off on his mental fingers and toes: Ptero, Pyramid, Torus, Cone, Dumbbell, Pincushion, Spiral, Tangle, and Motes. That was nine in all, each seeming as big and competent as Xanth, despite being impossibly small. And perhaps an infinite number beyond them, that the Zombie Master was still touring.

  Dor put his feet on the floor and stood up. Actually this was no worse than orienting on another dream world. This just happened to be the real one. Or was it? Could the Land of Xanth be on a globe or other shape orbiting the head of some giant Ida? The notion was mind boggling, so he set it aside.

  The door opened, showing Millie. “I thought I heard stirring,” she said.

  “Yes, we are back,” Dor said. “Jonathan says he is making progress, and hopes soon to find a suitable world for the zombies. He is on the ninth derivative at the moment, a cluster of floating rocks called Motes. So we shall return and report that the zombies should be out of the way by the date of the wedding.”

/>   “That’s good,” Millie said. “But there is another problem. The blob—”

  “Has become a winged mermaid,” Dor finished for her.

  “How did you know?”

  “Her name is Aurora. She couldn’t make it on her own world, so has merged with the blob to give it identity and form. She should do well enough in Xanth.”

  “That’s the problem: she has no idea where to go, and I don’t know what to tell her. She is asking for the three kings.”

  Dor glanced at the others, then nodded. “I suppose it is our responsibility. We had better talk to her before we go home.” He paused, seeing the jar of sleep potion. “You say you have plenty of that?”

  “Oh, yes,” Millie agreed. “Would you like to take that jar with you?”

  “Yes, just in case. One can never tell when something like that might be useful.”

  Millie picked up the jar and brought it to him. Dor put it in his pocket. “Thank you.”

  “But remember,” she warned him. “This is not for ordinary sleeping. It’s for the dream worlds.”

  “Yes. I will use it only when warranted.”

  “You had better,” the jar said from his pocket.

  They went to the other chamber. There was Aurora, sitting on the edge of a wooden tub, soaking her tail in water. She was of course beautifully bare.

  “Oh, you are here!” she cried, spying them. “See—I did manage to get lungs, so I can breathe your air.” She inhaled, and her chest inflated, causing Dor’s eyes to lock. She spread her wings and flew across to plant a kiss on Dor. “You must tell me where that other winged mermaid is!”

  “Actually I saw her only once, at Chex Centaur’s wedding,” Dolph said. “Fifteen years ago. She would be of mature age by now.”

  “That’s all right. She will surely know the scene.” Aurora stood on her tail, keeping herself upright by flapping her wings at half speed. She was a most scenic female figure, with sightly attributes, in utter contrast to the former aspect of the blob. Dor was privately amazed that the same flesh could assume such different forms. This wasn’t the kind of magic transformation Dolph did; it was a given mass reshaped. That made it special.

  “We can ask some regular mermaids,” Dolph suggested, trying without success to wrest his gaze away from two attributes. “They should know where the winged ones are.”

  Dor nodded. “We will take you to the nearest merfolk colony and inquire.”

  “Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed, and kissed him again, in the process squishing an attribute against him.

  “I am glad that is settled,” Millie said, with a section of a reminiscent smile. “But first you must have more tee and crumples; I have them ready.”

  Dolph looked at Aurora. “I know you can fly, but I think I had better carry you, when we travel, because I’ll be flying high and fast, and I am familiar with the terrain.”

  “I’m sure you know best,” she said demurely.

  In due course they exited the castle, and were ready to travel. But with three folk to carry, Dolph couldn’t use the roc form. So he became a large six-winged dragon, and they straddled his serpentine mid section. Aurora had no legs, so couldn’t straddle, so she sat sideways while Dor held her securely in place around the waist.

  Dolph took off. He spiraled up into the sky, avoiding passing clouds. With each beat of those great wings, the dragon body lifted powerfully, and they felt extra weight, and Aurora’s attributes pressed down against Dor’s arm. Then on the return stroke the dragon seemed to be floating, and everything became light. Dor hoped that no one else was aware of his arm. He wouldn’t care to try to explain his impressions to Irene.

  “Do you have demons here?” Aurora asked, glancing around.

  “Yes, many. In fact Dolph’s ex-fiancee Nada Naga married Demon Prince Vore, and they have a two-year-old daughter named Demonica.”

  “What happened to them during the Time of No Magic?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Cone is part of Xanth too, indirectly. Our history and folklore say that all magic derives from the Demon X(A/N)th, and that when he departed for a day, so did most of the magic. We were protected, because our nested worlds were stored in a special cell in the nameless Castle that didn’t let its magic escape. Of course that’s just our legend; there may be no such place on your world.”

  “There is such a place,” Dor reassured her. “So it could be true. I wondered where Ida’s moon was, before it joined her.”

  “But I should think it was a difficult time for unprotected demons, who can’t exist without magic.”

  “It was,” Dor agreed. “I believe they became dust devils, as they do in Mundania. Then they recovered when the magic returned.”

  “That’s nice. It wouldn’t be the same without demons.”

  Dor hadn’t thought of it that way, but found himself agreeing. Most regular demons were nuisances, but some were important, like Demon Professor Grossclout, and some were intriguing, like Demoness Metria in her several guises.

  Soon they spied a river complete with merfolk sporting in a pool. Dolph spiraled down and made a good landing in an adjacent field. They dismounted, Dor set Aurora on her tail, and Dolph changed back to manform.

  “I hope I didn’t bruise your poor arm,” Aurora said, concerned.

  “No problem,” Dor said gallantly.

  They approached the river. The head of a lion popped from the water, spied them, and roared.

  “Oh, go chomp yourself, mane brain,” the river bank said.

  The sea lion bared its teeth, but there wasn’t much it could do about a section of ground. After a moment it bashed the water with its paws, then turned tail and disappeared with a flash of its flukes.

  “The sea lions aren’t dangerous if you don’t invade their territory,” Dor said to Aurora. “But you have to watch out for the ant lions. They can pursue you on land.”

  “We have uncle lions on Cone,” Aurora replied. “They’re really fierce.”

  They walked downstream to the pool. There were no merfolk showing. “It’s all right,” Dor called. “It wasn’t a real dragon, just a transformed Magician. We are men, and one mer-person.”

  A blonde head popped out of the water. One eye was artfully covered by a trailing tress. “Men! Hello—I’m Ash.” She lifted in the water just enough to show her own attributes.

  “Three kings,” Dor assured her. “We are looking for—”

  A redhead appeared. “Kings! I’m Cedar. You are looking for brides?” She lifted a bit farther from the water.

  This was getting dangerous to eyeballs. “No. We just want to—”

  A dark gray-brown head appeared. “I’m Mahogany. We don’t do one splash stands. Not even for kings.” She lifted so high that her snug little waist was visible.

  “We’re not looking for splashes,” Dor said. “We’re looking for winged merfolk.”

  “Now there’s nothing they can do, that we can’t do just as well,” Ash said, inhaling. “Except fly.”

  Dor indicated the mermaid balancing beside him. “This is Aurora. She is new to Xanth, and needs to find her own kind. Can you help us?”

  They considered. “Well, there’s Erica,” Cedar said. “She hangs out around Mount Rushmost with the other winged monsters.”

  “That’s where I saw her,” Dolph agreed.

  “She has a portable pool table for her tail,” Mahogany said.

  “That sounds ideal,” Dor said. They turned away from the pool.

  “Are you sure one of you wouldn’t like a trial splash?” Ash called after them.

  “Almost sure,” Dor called back. “Thank you for the information.”

  A surly-looking man approached. “Hey, want something nice?” he inquired.

  “Go away, BB!” Cedar cried. “They don’t want what you give.”

  Dor paused. “What does he give?”

  “He has the talent of bad breath,” Cedar said. “If he breathes on you, your own breath ge
ts stinky awful.”

  Dor quickly turned away from BB.

  Then Dolph changed, and they boarded, and flew up.

  “Well, no wonder!” Cedar exclaimed. “Look how he’s holding her.”

  “But we can do that too,” Mahogany said. “Just as bouncily too.”

  “We don’t exactly have brass ears,” Ash agreed.

  Then the distance became too great, and their following words were lost. Dor was relieved. And glad that his father and son couldn’t see how he had to hold Aurora. He couldn’t risk letting her fall.

  But what did brass ears have to do with anything? Dor couldn’t figure it out.

  “You look perplexed,” Aurora murmured.

  “I didn’t quite hear what they said. It sounded like ‘brass ears,’ but—”

  She laughed, which really bounced her attributes. “Not brass ears. Brassieres. Clothed girls use them, if they need to. At least they do on Cone.”

  “Oh.” Dor felt himself trying to blush.

  “Conic bosoms are popular in some circles,” she continued. “But we merfolk haven’t felt the need.”

  “There is no need,” Dolph agreed fervently.

  Aurora remained curious about Xanth. “I see some boys dancing,” she said. “What is the dance, and why are they so ragged?”

  Dor looked down. “They are poor boys, so they are doing the Oliver Twist, the poor boys’ dance.”

  “Oh. Is there a version for poor girls? I might try that.” She bobbed in place, banging his arm some more.

  “Maybe Erica will know.” It was all he could think of to say, lame as it seemed. Aurora was a most distracting armful.

  They came to Mount Rushmost. This was a mountain with almost vertical sides and a broad plateau on top. Dor almost thought he could see huge faces in the rock, but concluded it was imagination or illusion.

  There was a small gathering of winged monsters on the plateau. They were all female. Three were winged centaur fillies, another was a girl with reptilian wings, and another was—yes!—a winged mermaid. The group of them stood beside a living room that retreated as it saw the strange group descending. Living rooms were comfortable, but more nervous than inanimate rooms. The ladies were holding sun glasses, and those cups of light really brightened the premises.