“A fortunate coincidence,” Astrid said. “But of course I couldn’t be your great grandma. I’m not even human.”
“Yeah.” He sounded almost disappointed.
“Unless you adopted him,” Kandy said. “Or adopted his grandpa.”
Both Astrid and Firenze laughed. “Wouldn’t that be something!” Astrid said. “A basilisk in your ancestry!”
“I could pretend to have the glare,” the boy agreed, making a horrific face.
“But there may be a kernel of relevance here,” Kandy said. “He remembers a portrait, and it could be of an adoptive family. Maybe the portraits are of those families.”
Astrid nodded. “Five adoptions, painted when they are complete. Art can paint them when the time is right. Then maybe he’ll be free to paint the women of our own party, when the fate of Xanth no longer hangs in the balance. And the children, safely embedded in this Xanth, can then work to make sure it doesn’t go the way theirs did. That would be completely relevant.”
“So what’s the program?” Santo asked.
“Whether to work to get the adoptions accomplished, and the portraits painted,” Astrid said. “So as to save Xanth.”
The children looked at each other, and nodded.
“So how do you invoke the Playground’s assistance?”
“We link here onstage,” Squid said.
“Then I will get out of your way,” Astrid said. She stepped down the small stairs at the edge of the stage. At the foot of it her foot caught on something and she stumbled into an alcove marked DO NOT ENTER. Oops!
She caught her balance. Every so often she did have a problem, because her reflexes were for four legs instead of two. She straightened up and turned to step out of the alcove. And paused.
She was no longer at the foot of the stage. She stood in a flat plain whose landscape extended to the horizon on every side. There was no apparent way back. It seemed that the DO NOT ENTER marking was serious, because it had no visible exit. It had to be associated in some way with the stage, maybe as a place for actors to wait before stepping into their roles, or as storage for stage props. But how was she to rejoin the other members of the audience?
She looked about more carefully. There were scattered trees filled with assorted nests. Was this some sort of bird sanctuary? She walked to the nearest tree to inspect its nest.
A bird flew up out of it. “Auk!” it cried. “A prig!” It circled up over her head and loosed an egg at her. She ducked so that it avoided her head, and it struck the ground where it exploded in a ball of smoke and yolk.
Astrid retreated, but clumsily, almost falling. Why was she suddenly so awkward? Then she realized that it was because of the bird, the auk. It was an Aukward, making her lose dexterity. A groaner of a pun. Fortunately she recovered as she got away from its nest and the fumes of the broken egg.
What had it called her? A prig? She was no prig.
Then she saw a woman at another tree. She was taking an egg from its nest, while the brightly colored bird fluttered helplessly. “Get out of here, prig!” the bird exclaimed.
“This egg is too good for you, Hibiscus,” the woman retorted as she walked away with the egg.
Hibis-cus. Like a pretty flower, and the egg was colored too. The prig had stolen it. No wonder the birds didn’t like the prigs.
Astrid saw the woman walk to a house made of logs. Now the mad birds were attacking it, bombing it with explosive eggs. The house shook but did not collapse, to their disappointment. Astrid appreciated the birds’ position; she would be mad too if prigs stole her babies.
“Maybe I can help,” she said to the bird at the next tree. She was feeling unusually serious. “Can you spare an egg?”
The bird indicated its nest, which was marked EARN. An Earn-nest. That was why she was suddenly so dedicated. Astrid lifted out an egg and threw it at the house. It scored on the roof, blowing a hole in it. “Hey, wretch!” the prig inside cried. “You’re spoiling the upholstery!”
Astrid took another egg and looped it into the hole. This time the whole house blew apart, sending logs flying. Several watching birds applauded, smacking their wings together as they perched on their nests. The prig was seriously annoyed, but the bids had plainly won this round.
But Astrid knew she couldn’t stay among the mad birds, however much she sympathized with their annoyance. Those prigs needed to be eliminated, but that was not her job. She needed to return to the stage, or at least the Playground. How could she do that?
Well, this was a section of puns. She saw a Cockaphony and heard its discordant cry. There was a Crowker, with a harsh, throaty voice. A Jaywalker, endangering itself by walking across busy paths and trails. And an irrational Loonatic. So could she make up a pun bird of her own whose ability was to get out?
She tried. “I’m a See-fowl,” she announced. “Not a Sea-foul. I can see the way out of here.”
And she did. There was a plaque marked DO NOT LEAVE that was surely it. She went there and stepped on it.
And was back beside the stage. No one had noticed her stumble. Had any time passed here? Apparently not.
She took a seat and watched the children on the stage link hands and focus. In half a moment they separated. “Yes!” Squid exclaimed happily. “The adoptions will save Xanth!”
The audience applauded again. It was wonderful news.
The children trooped off the stage and rejoined their adult mentors. Firenze came to Astrid. “You were right. We need to get adopted, and get painted. The Playground knows. Now we’ll steer that course.”
“That’s good.” She hesitated, then decided to inquire. “You have picked up a working knowledge of the Playground?”
“I guess. It sort of rubs off, when we use it.”
“Do you know anything about that DO NOT ENTER nook?”
“Oh, sure. That’s the Playground’s Storage facility.”
“What is stored there that is so secret from regular folk like us?”
“Games, mainly, for children who get tired of active fun. Little hand-held screens with pictures they can move about and score points.”
“Are any about birds? Mad birds?”
“Sure. Mad Birds is a big one. These prigs are stealing their eggs and ruining their nests, so the birds are getting back at them by bombing them with explosive eggs. The player is on the side of the birds.”
Now it was making more sense, in its fashion. Still, it seemed more like nonsense. “If the birds are trying to save their eggs, why are they using more eggs to get back at the prigs?”
Firenze considered this. “I never thought of that. I guess they are so mad they just have to get rid of the prigs somehow.” He smiled. “It make senses to children. I guess adults don’t understand.”
“Oh, I think I could get into it, if I tried. Prigs can be pretty annoying.”
“We’ll, you’re not human.”
“That must be it,” Astrid agreed.
The adults got up and returned to their camp, while Santo and the children folded up the Playground. It had been a fair adventure, all things considered.
But Astrid wondered. What were the limits of that Playground? It could be folded up into a matchbox and taken along. Could people hide in it by entering the Storage facility? Would they survive when the Playground was folded up? It was some piece of magic, with its own rules and capacities. There were aspects that made her wary. Too much magic could be mischief as well as help. But she kept her misgivings to herself, for now.
“You know, it might not be too bad,” Firenze said as they walked to the camp.
She didn’t pick up on his point. “What might not be too bad? Getting adopted?”
“Getting adopted by a basilisk.”
Oh. “Well, it’s a last resort. You’re a smart boy. Folk should appreciate that.”
“But I have a temper.”
“We’ll try to teach you to control it. After all, if I can work wit
h humans without killing them, you should be able to be in a family without blowing your top.”
“I guess.”
She patted his shoulder. “It’s personality that really counts in the end.”
“I am learning that,” he agreed.
“It’s our job to take care of you, the five of you, until we can get you into families and have your portraits painted. The future of Xanth depends on that. The Playground has confirmed it.”
“It has. We know what we have to do. But it’s hard.”
She could not argue with that. “It’s hard,” she agreed.
“When—when I first got off the cable car, you—”
“I’m sorry if I was abrupt with you.”
“That’s not it. You—you comforted me.”
“I tried to. Of course there are limits, because of my nature.”
“Could you do it again?”
She looked at him and saw that he was on the verge of an emotional collapse. He had lost his family and his world, and it was getting to him. He was to a considerable extent the support the other children needed, being the oldest, and he was performing well in that respect. But at times he needed support himself.
“Hold your breath,” she told him. Then she hugged him while he cried.
Chapter 6:
Sacrifice
That afternoon they resumed virus hunting, with the children in tow. They even filled little bottles of the anti-virus elixir for the children to carry so they could participate. Participation, Astrid knew from somewhere, was vital for a child’s sense of belonging. The boys were plainly bored, but the girls loved it.
“Look!” Win cried. “A horsie!”
So it was. A nice brown horse was grazing in a field as they approached. Win ran to it, but the horse, startled, neighed and bolted.
And Win’s clothes fell off. Astrid, farther away, felt her own dress loosen dangerously. She saw others grabbing their clothing.
Tiara hurried to attend to Win, getting her garbed again. What had happened? Then Pewter figured it out. “That was a young spook horse. A neigh kid. A pun. The sound of it causes folk to lose their clothing.”
Oh.
They moved on, and soon came to a lake. There was a ship on the lake, headed for a pier close to them, but then it swerved and went to another pier.
Pewter checked his data file again. “Boon Docks. There’s a Magician on that ship who grants boons to supplicants, but nobody knows where the erratic ship will dock, so they seldom get the benefit. Another pun.”
Then they came to a house with an old woman seated at a table in front of it. There was a coffeepot and a cup on the table. A sign said MEDIUM COFFEE.
They did not trust this. “What is special about this drink?” Astrid asked.
“You can drink this to obtain temporary psychic abilities,” the woman said. “For example, to converse with the dead.”
“Thank you, no,” Astrid said quickly.
“Or see into the near future. You folk could really use that.”
Was the woman determined to lure them into her nonsense? “No.”
“You’ll be sor-ree,” the woman sing-songed as they moved on.
Then they came across several beds set out in the open. The smaller children gleefully bounced on them—and stopped, confused.
Because the beds were not exactly what they seemed. Little Myst was on a Flower Bed, and flowers were sailing up around her. She liked them, but didn’t want to squish them. Squid was on a Sea Bed, and was soaked in saltwater. She adored it, but was distracted by the shells. Win was on a River Bed, also wet, concerned about the little fish getting splashed out of it.
Clearly the pun virus had not passed this way.
They cleaned up the girls and went on. Now they found a more normal field of flowers, and all three girls reveled in it. Squid went to the edge of the forest, following a trail of pretty little blue flowers.
“Get back from there, Squid!” Kandy called. “The unknown forest is dangerous.”
The girl obeyed, turning her back on the forest. But at that point a small dragon pounced on her. It had been lurking in ambush, hoping for just such a meal.
Squid screamed as the dragon’s jaws closed on her. She reverted to her natural form so that the teeth tended to slide around her instead of biting her in half, but already there was blood.
Kandy and Ease charged for the dragon. On the way Kandy became the board, and Ease grabbed it and swung it at the dragon’s head. It caught the creature a solid clout on the snoot, and it dropped its morsel and retreated. Ease kept after it, clubbing it repeatedly, every strike scoring, until it turned tail and fled, battered. Astrid knew that Kandy was the one guiding the strikes, while Ease provided the muscle. They made an effective team. Still, it was just as well that the dragon had been small, and not a fire breather.
Meanwhile Astrid caught up to Squid. She was in a sad state, with blood on her tentacles, writhing in pain. Astrid picked her up, but she was slippery with blood and slid through her grasp.
“Let me,” Merge said as she arrived on the scene. She split into five bare girls, who formed a circle and reached under the child, forming a ten-armed basket. They carried her back to the flower bed and set her down. Tiara quickly harvested fresh sheets from a linens tree and covered and wrapped her.
“I have healing elixir,” Pewter said, producing it. He poured a few drops on the writhing child, and the bleeding stopped. Squid relaxed, free of pain, reformed as a girl, and sank into sleep.
“That’s not enough,” Metria said. “That was a poison dragon, with elixir-resistant venom. I’ve seen that kind before. It will take her out within hours.”
Now Astrid saw that Squid was changing color, becoming sallow. She also smelled the venom, and knew it was true; basilisks were not the only deadly creatures. The child would never wake from her sleep.
“There goes the girl,” Kandy said grimly as she reverted to her human form.
“And there goes the Portrait,” Art said.
“And so there goes Xanth,” Astrid said, horrified.
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Merge asked as she reformed and dressed.
“It would take more magic than we can muster,” Metria said. “She’s doomed.”
Astrid gazed at the child and suffered. The fate of the Land of Xanth might hang in the balance, but the immediate peril of an innocent creature, a nonhuman person in human form the way Astrid herself was, truly got to her. How could she just stand here and watch Squid die? If there was anything she could do—
Then she remembered how Kandy, seeing Astrid about to die, had made a deal with Demoness Fornax to save her friend, heedless of the price of that deal. Was there any deal that she in turn could make to save the child?
“Fornax,” she whispered.
The Demoness appeared. She spread the fingers of one hand toward the child. There was a glow. “The venom is gone.”
“Oh thank you!” Astrid said, enormously relieved. “But I proffered no deal. What do you want in return?”
“Nothing,” Fornax said. “I did it for friendship.”
“That’s beautiful,” Kandy said.
A donkey-headed dragon appeared. “Demon Xanth!” Pewter said.
“Gotcha,” the Demon said.
The Demoness Fornax did not move. Astrid realized that she had been frozen in place. Xanth had caught her doing illicit magic in his territory, and captured her. This was disaster!
“She was just trying to save a child,” Kandy said, speaking for Fornax, as she had the position to do so. “She wasn’t trying to mess with your territory.”
Three more Demons appeared. “The Demon Earth, whose association is Gravity,” Pewter said, indicating the one with a head like a blue spinning planet. “The Demon Jupiter, whose association is the Strong Force.” That was the one with a
huge cloudy head with a single red eye. “The Demon Nemesis, whose association is Dark Matter.” His head was an intangible blob, extremely difficult to see, though obviously there was something there. “Nemesis is the Chief Judge.”
And Nemesis, Astrid remembered, was the Demon who had courted Fornax and been rejected. He had no fear of her antimatter nature, because he interacted only very slightly with either matter or antimatter. He was a suitor balked. This was mischief compounded.
“The case is between Demon Xanth and Demoness Fornax,” Nemesis said. “He charges her with magically interfering in his domain. The Primaries do not represent themselves. Who will represent Xanth’s and Fornax’s cases?”
“I will represent Fornax,” Kandy said immediately. “I am her designated intermediary.”
“No,” the dragon ass said. “You will represent me.”
Kandy’s mouth opened to protest, but nothing came out. She was frozen also. No mortal had any ability to oppose any Demon directly.
Astrid realized that Demon Xanth had acted strategically to eliminate Fornax’s most effective representative and thus ensure his victory. The Demons did not pussyfoot.
“Xanth has choosen his representative first, he being the wronged party,” Nemesis said. “Fornax will have a different representative. Whom does she choose?”
Now Fornax was allowed to speak. “My friend Astrid Basilisk-Cockatrice.”
Now Astrid froze, for a different reason. “But I have no training, no experience!” she protested. “I don’t know anything about a Demon Trial.”
“Learn,” Nemesis said.
“But—” At which point she was frozen by the Demon.
“You will have a day and night to prepare your cases,” Nemesis said. “Court will reconvene in twenty-four hours.”
Then the Demons vanished, including Xanth and Fornax. The mortals were on their own. For a day and night.
“Oh, bleep!” Kandy swore, now that she was free to speak. “I have to represent the case I’m against! And do my very best to win it despite wanting to lose it. And argue against my friend.”
Five Portraits Page 10
