Roc and a Hard Place

by Piers Anthony

  “Yeah,” Dug agreed. “I remember when I listed Henry the Eighth for 1909 to '47. You'd have thought the sky was falling!”

  “You were precisely four centuries off!” Ichabod exclaimed, shocked.

  “So what's four centuries between friends?” Kim asked.

  “I certainly wouldn't want to bore anyone with unwanted lists of names and dates and talents,” Arnolde said. “I shall be happy to commit this volume silently to memory.” He pored over the book with much the same intensity that Magician Humfrey did with his own tomes. “Oh, my! The Sorceress Tapis was once married? That explains so much! And the Zombie Master was actually the son of a King, but alienated because of the nature of his talent. I never suspected! This will revolutionize Xanth history.”

  “Or at least the current rendering of it,” Ichabod agreed.

  “It does seem that there were some dark secrets in those early days.”

  “Exceedingly dark,” Arnolde agreed.

  “Actually, I'm curious,” Metria said. “Maybe I knew some of those Kings.” Dug and Kim started to laugh, then stopped as they saw that neither Metria nor Arnolde was.

  “That's right,” Dug said. “Demons live forever, or as close as makes no nevermind. Maybe she did know some Kings.”

  “I did,” Metria agreed. “But I got close to only two, Gromden and Humfrey. The others didn't interest me.”

  “That's right,” Kim said. “Humfrey was King once. You tried to distract him from his studies at the Demon University. But what's this about you and King Gromden?”

  “I seduced him. But it got complicated.”

  Kim reconsidered. “Maybe I am interested in some of those Kings. If they were real living people, I mean, not just dates.”

  “Gromden must have been a hot date,” Dug said.

  She ignored him. “Let's hear about some Xanth Kings. You've got my curiosity going.”

  “And she's dangerous when she's curious,” Dug said, dodging another kick.

  So they settled back and listened to Arnold's recital of Kings, old and new, as augmented by the Book of Kings.

  “The uninterrupted human population of Xanth began with the First Wave, its arrival defined as the year 0. For the first two centuries there were no Kings. The savagery of the early years may have prevented the human folk from achieving sufficient unity. Then King Merlin, whose talent was Knowledge, became the first in the year two-oh-four, just in time to try to help organize the women to kill their rapist husbands of the Third Wave and bring in better men, the so called Fourth Wave.”

  As he spoke. Jenny Elf settled by his flank with Sammy and Bubbles and hummed a little tune. Metria, interested in information about the old Kings that she hadn't paid much attention to at the time, listened with complete attention. She realized that her half soul was giving her a new perspective, so that now the events had meaning. She remembered the brutal Third Wave largely exterminating what had been the brutal Second Wave. But the Fourth Wave had been something else, and that one had built the foundation on which the human kingdom became significant.

  Then she saw old King Merlin vacating his throne, separating from his wife, the Sorceress Tapis, and going to Mundania on some kind of business only he could understand.

  Tapis was so annoyed, she never remarried, and never spoke of Merlin again. She did tolerate her daughter the Princess, but neither spoke of their connection because both had written the memory of the King out of their lives.

  “Well, Merlin did have business in Mundania,” Ichabod remarked. He was standing beside her, watching King Merlin depart Xanth. “There was a lad named Arthur he had to educate to be King.”

  “That was more important than governing Xanth?” Jenny asked. She was standing on Ichabod's other side.

  The old Mundane shrugged. “There are those who thought so.”

  “Hey, here comes Roogna,” Kim said from Metria's other side. “But this is starting to get cluttered with dates.”

  Then in 228 Magician Roogna, whose talent was Adaptation, assumed the throne. Eight years later the Princess suffered a change of plans and married him, with her mother's blessing, because he really was a decent man. He built Castle Roogna, with the help of centaurs.

  “Naturally, the centaurs,” Arnolde said. “No other species had the expertise.”

  King Roogna died fighting the Sixth Wave. It was an ugly scene, because the invading Mundanes were so brutal and ignorant of magic. Ichabod, Kim, and Dug winced in unison, ashamed of their heritage. Roogna's place was taken by Xanth's first female King, the Sorceress Rana, whose talent was Creation, in 286. When she died in 325, Magician Reitas, whose talent was Solving Problems, took over. Unfortunately he seemed to generate almost as many problems as he, solved, because there were always unintended complications. When one of those complications killed him in 350, ending Reitas' reign, Rana's son Magician Rune became King. His talent was Evocation. “Too many dates,” Kim muttered.

  That lasted until 378, when Rune died fighting the Seventh Wave. The people, desperate for leadership that could save them, persuaded the zombie Jonathan to assume the throne.

  “The Zombie Master!” Kim cried. “He was King of Xanth?”

  Metria popped out of her dream. She was back in contemporary Xanth. “But demons don't dream,” she protested.

  “Yes you do, when you have a soul,” Jenny said. “You were sharing my dream just now; I saw you there, watching the parade of Kings with me. We all were there.”

  “That's right—I can dream now,” Metria said. “Mentia dreamed with Gary Gargoyle last year. That was really ancient history.”

  “Sorry I jogged us all out of it,” Kim said. “Anyone who isn't paying attention can enter one of Jenny's dreams, when she's humming. That's her talent. But it's easy to startle folk out of it. I should have kept my big mouth shut, as usual.

  But this business of the Zombie Master being King of Xanth—how come he never mentioned that?”

  “Well, zombies don't have very good memories,” Arnolde said. “Because their heads are filled with—”

  “Never mind!” Kim said. “I get the picture. But how could a zombie govern?”

  “I remember that,” Metria said. “That was one King I didn't try to seduce! He couldn't be killed, so anyone who attacked him just got frustrated, until Jonathan caught up to him and threatened to turn him into a zombie too.”

  “But he couldn't turn living folk into zombies,” Kim said.

  “They didn't always know that. And of course, he could have arranged to have them killed first. So they didn't give him any lip, or any other parts of their bodies. They did exactly what he told them to do, so that he would stay away from them. And he did, as long as they behaved. He was actually a very gentle man. That's why his reign lasted a whole century. He finally got fed up with the rotten job and abdicated. He was more interested in chasing after Millie the Ghost anyway.”

  Kim shook her head. “You were right: there are wrinkles to Xanth history I never suspected. The Zombie Master is a nice guy, now that he's alive.”

  “He always was. It was just that other folk couldn't stand his talent. So he was somewhat isolated, until Millie loved him.”

  Night was threatening by now, so Kim erased a nice place on the ground, making a pit, then smeared a top across it, so that they had a safe underground chamber to sleep in. Sammy located a pillow bush and blanket tree, and they made comfortable beds.

  “You know, a single bed would do for the two of us,” Dug suggested hopefully.

  “Sorry—I'm already sharing mine with Bubbles,” Kim informed him. Dug didn't argue. They had evidently discussed this before.

  Metria didn't need to sleep, but she did settle down to dream again, as Jenny started humming. She dreamed of Magician Vortex becoming King in 478 after the Zombie King abdicated. Vortex's talent was Summoning Demons. How well she remembered! He had summoned her once, but not for anything interesting; he was merely curious about her impediment of speech, as he put it. She
tried to distract him by seducing him, but he had a policy against being seduced by demonesses. That was when she learned that sometimes it was best to conceal her nature, and that caution was to stand her in good stead two centuries later with King Gromden. But it took her a good five minutes of seductive effort before she realized that it wasn't working with Vortex. She was about to do her ultimate, by showing him her panties, when—

  “Wow!” Dug exclaimed. “Now, that's what I call a hot scene!”

  “Get out of this dream!” Kim snapped at him, and he vanished, but the interested look remained on his face.

  So it was the group dream again. That was all right; Metria found that she rather liked the company. Jenny Elf’s talent was a lot of fun.

  “Thank you,” Jenny said.

  The dream continued through the next name on the list, King Neytron, whose talent was Bringing Paintings to Life, he didn't need any sexy demonesses either, because all he had to do was paint the type of woman he desired, and she would be his. He also painted elaborate furnishings for Castle Roogna, and, when times became lean, supplies of food for the people. It occurred to Metria that Kim's talent was-the reverse of this. Then there was King Nero, who animated golems, and they were very good for getting work done.

  They planted a much larger orchard, so that the local folk would never again have to be concerned about their food supply.

  Then came Gromden, in 623. She concluded her dream with him, though there were a number of other Kings of Xanth to follow him. Including a second female King, Elona, in 797, whose talent was Longevity for herself and any others she chose. She governed for a long time. Today, Metria thought, folk believed that there had never been female Kings of Xanth, historically, but that was ignorance. And the Ghost King Warren, who had also been lost to history. But after that came King Ebnez, with his talent of Inanimate Adaptation, followed by Humfrey, the Storm King Aeolus, Trent, and Dor. She would dream about them some other time.

  “That was definitely not fit for Dug to see,” Kim said. “He already has too many big ideas.”

  “You don't like them?” Jenny asked.

  “Not when they're about other women.”

  Jenny laughed. The effort was too much for the dream, and it faded out, leaving Metria awake.

  Oh, yes, she had toyed with history, in her fashion. Now, with her soul, she regretted some of it. But not much.

  Then she snapped alert. There was someone with her, and not one of the regular party. “Who are you?” she demanded abruptly.

  A horse figure reared back, startled. A night mare!

  “Not so fast, equine!” she said, puffing into smoke and surrounding it. “How is it that you're trying to give a bad dream to a demoness?”

  The figure tried to run away, but her smoke surrounded it, so that it couldn't get away. So it projected a little dream figure of a man. “I thought you were mortal,” the man said. “What are you doing with half a soul?”

  “You're male?” she asked, astonished.

  “I'm a night colt,” the dream man said. “They wouldn't let me take out any dreams. So I stole half a soul and went out on my own. I sniffed out some impromptu dreaming here, so I came to see if I could get in on it. I don't have much experience, you know.”

  “That's obvious,” Metria said, realizing that it had been Jenny's powerful group dream that had attracted the colt's attention. “You can't just go anywhere with dreams; you have to bring them from the gourd, to assigned people who deserve them.”

  “But I told you, they won't let me have any of those.”

  “Then maybe you had better just explore Xanth, and not mess with dreams at all.”

  “No, I'm a dream creature; I have to associate with dreams. Since I don't have a cargo of my own, messing with others is all I can do.”

  Metria considered. “Then maybe you can make something of it. Why not enter ordinary dreams and make the folks in them do things they'd never do on their own? That could be fun, correctly done.”

  “I hadn't thought of that. Thanks, Demoness!” he galloped off, and this time she let him go.

  It was good to be back making some mischief, even in such a small way.

  Then she thought of something else. Jenny Elf's group dream had attracted a night colt. What would the Night Stallion himself think of her dreaming ability? The stallion could, of course, assume any shape he wished, being master of the dream realm. He could become a handsome man—or an elf of any size. Suppose he got interested in Jenny's talent, and then in Jenny herself?

  Nah, she thought. Jenny's future was surely in regular Xanth. Or in her realm, of origin, the World of Two Moons.

  Chapter 11

  CHENA

  In the morning, refreshed, they set out to locate Chena Centaur, the mystery token. Kim passed the back of her hand across the surface of the nether chamber, and restored the ground the way it had been. “No sense leaving a mess,” she explained.

  “That is one powerful talent,” Ichabod remarked. “Sorceress level, perhaps.”

  “I don't know,” Kim said. “I'm still learning how to use it. I don't know its limits.”

  “It would be wise to ascertain them.”

  They moved on. Soon they came to a river that looked too deep to wade across. “Maybe I can erase a section,” Kim said. “So we can walk across dry. Then I can unerase it after we're across.”

  Arnolde looked thoughtful. “I wonder.”

  Kim squatted by the riverbank, and passed her hand across

  the surface of the water. There was a ripple, but it didn't disappear. “I don't understand,” Kim said. “Why isn't it working?”

  “Because the water fills in the gap as soon as you make it,” Arnolde replied. “I thought that might be the case. It would be remarkable were it otherwise.”

  Kim nodded. “I guess so.”

  “Perhaps it is just as well that there is some reasonable limit on it,” Arnolde continued. “It would be dangerous, otherwise. I think I feel more comfortable this way.”

  “Me, too,” Kim confessed. But she seemed a bit disappointed, too.

  “Now how do we get across this river?” Dug asked. “It's too deep to wade, and I don't like the look of those shark fins in the center.”

  “Loan sharks,” Kim agreed. “They'll take an arm and a leg if you let them. Let's not let them.”

  “Maybe you could carve out another boat or raft,” Jenny Elf suggested. “That worked well to get us to Xanth.”

  “I suppose I could. But it wouldn't be easy to navigate, because I can't get under to make a keel. We could haul it across with ropes, if we could get the ropes anchored on the far side of the water.”

  “And who'll swim across with ropes!” Dug said.

  “I can do that,” Metria said. “I can't float with heavy things, but I can with light things, and hemp feels light.”

  “It can make men light-headed,” Ichabod agreed.

  So they sent Sammy Cat to locate some hemp with suitable ropes, while Kim found a fallen log and made a dugout boat by erasing a hole in it. There were some cracks in the wood, but she smoothed those over with finger-smears, making it watertight. It wasn't Xanth's prettiest boat, but it seemed serviceable. And, contrary to her expectation, she had been able to shape a crude keel, by having the menfolk roll it over so she could work on the bottom of the hull.

  Small selective erasures could do a lot.

  When the craft was ready, and they had the necessary rope, Metria floated across the river, carrying the end of the rope. The sharks leaped up and snapped at her with their red, green, blue, and white teeth, and sometimes they did catch a piece of her, but she just dissolved that portion into dirty tasting smoke and they were left with no interest, though they continued to make efforts on principle. She made sure to float low enough to tease them well. Her soul was a hindrance when it came to mischief against nice folk, but loan sharks gave her no problem at all.

  She tied the rope to a stout A-com tree and floated back, almos
t touching the water, but the sharks now knew they couldn't get a real piece of her and didn't try. “Ready,” she said, tying the other end to a similarly stout B-com tree. She yanked on it, to be sure it was tight; that shook the trees, and a few ripe cobs fell, but the rope held.

  They hauled the boat to the water, and Arnolde stepped carefully in and lay down. Sammy and Bubbles joined him.

  That filled the boat. They would have to make two trips.

  Kim had shaped two paddles by carefully erasing most of the wood from two logs. Metria took one, while Arnolde took hold of the rope and hauled himself and the boat along across the river. He wasn't strong for a centaur, but he was able to haul his own weight. Metria paddled to help move the boat.

  A loan shark, sniffing mortal meat, forged up to the boat.

  This one was yellow, and shaped like a submarine sandwich.

  Its tongue was like hot pepper, and its teeth like despair. It opened its mouth just about wide enough to take in an arm or leg. Sammy hissed, and Bubbles growled, but the big fish was undaunted.

  Metria struck it on the tender snout with the paddle. It hastily submerged, and they moved on across the river unbitten. The centaur got out, clearly relieved to be back on terra firma. Metria formed herself into a pulley connecting rope and boat, and pulled the boat back across.

  Now Ichabod, Dug, Kim, and Jenny climbed into the boat, Dug and Kim taking the paddles. Ichabod and Jenny took hold of the rope, not so much pulling the boat along as making sure it didn't get carried away by the current. Metria settled in the center, keeping an eye out for mischief.

  Mischief wasted no particular time orienting on them. This shark was huge and dark, with teeth capable of crunching through their boat in short order. It charged up, jaws open for a horrendous chomp. No swat on the snout would dissuade this monster!

  So Metria became a big mass of stink-horn-flavored toffee, and thrust herself into the oncoming maw. The shark clamped down—and tasted the flavor, which was Xanth's very filthiest, stenchiest, disgustingest tang. Arnolde caught a whiff, and remarked as his face turned a trifle bilious: “Of this nefarious horn it has been said that if a sphinx with a clogged snout sniffed it once from a distance, through a thick filter, the poor creature would turn to putrid green stone for a century, and never clear its nose of the degradation.”