Yon Ill Wind

by Anthony, Piers

“There is no other place like Castle Roogna.”

  So it seemed. They walked on into the castle.

  Two girls, about six years old, ran up to them, colliding before they managed to stop. They wore matching little crowns. “Oh, goody!” the red haired one cried. “Visitors from afar! A faun from north of the Gap!”

  “And a day mare,” the dark one added.

  “Meet the children of Prince Dolph and Princess Electra,” Imbri said. “Princess Dawn, who can tell anything about any living thing, so she knows about you, and Princess Eve, who can tell anything about any inanimate things, so she knows about me.”

  “But you’re alive!” Forrest protested.

  “No she isn’t,” Eve said. “She’s a spirit. She has half a soul, but no body. She lost that in the Void in 1067.”

  “They really do know,” Forrest said, amazed. “I’ve never seen such magic.”

  “That’s because no Magicians or Sorceresses ever came to your sandalwood tree,” Dawn said.

  A woman in blue jeans hurried up. “Girls! Behave!” she exclaimed. The two little princesses immediately stood back and looked angelic. “I’m sorry,” the woman said. “They’re irrepressible. I am Princess Electra, their mother.”

  “He’s Forrest Faun, here to see Princess Ida,” Dawn said.

  “And she’s Mare Imbri, who has to guide him through Ptero.”

  “Oh, you are here on business,” Electra said. “Girls, tell the Princess she has a visitor.”

  The two children dashed off. “Uh, thank you,” Forrest said. “I didn’t mean to make a commotion. I don’t know Princess Ida. I’m supposed to go to the land of Ptero.”

  Electra looked blank. “Go to the land of what?”

  “Ptero. Where all the might-be folk stay.”

  “But Ptero is—” The Princess paused. “Well, I’m not sure exactly what it is. But it’s not a place you can go to.”

  “But we have to go there. Because that’s where I’ll find my faun.”

  Electra still looked remarkably doubtful. “I think I’ll just have to let Ida explain it.”

  “I hope someone does. Imbri hasn’t.”

  The Princess nodded. “I can appreciate why. Come this way.” She turned and led them down the hall.

  The twins came dashing back, their red and black pigtails flying. “Auntie Ida says to go to the Tapestry!” Dawn cried brightly.

  “And she’ll meet them there,” Eve finished, darkly. “She says this could get com-com—”

  “Complicated,” Electra finished. “I’m sure.” She changed course slightly, and led them upstairs. Forrest was much impressed, because this was only the second time he had used stairs, and these were much broader than the ones at the Good Magician’s castle.

  Soon they arrived at a pleasant chamber with a nice view of the outside moat and orchard. A woman rose to greet them. She was another princess, because she wore a crown. She looked to be about twenty eight, but it was never possible to be quite certain, with women. There was something odd about her head.

  “Princess Ida, this is Forrest Faun,” Electra said. “Mare Imbri is with him, as his guide and companion.”

  “Any friend of Imbri is a friend of mine,” Ida said graciously. “Please have a seat and tell me your concern.”

  Forrest took the indicated chair. “I need to find a faun to associate with the neighboring clog tree. The Good Magician told me to look in Ptero. Mare Imbri has been there, so can show me the way.”

  “Imbri?” the Princess said. It wasn’t exactly a question; she was addressing the day mare. Her eyes went halfway blank and she seemed to be listening. After a moment she smiled. Imbri must have given her an explanatory daydream. “Ah, I see; that’s interesting.”

  “So if you can just tell me where—”

  Ida raised a hand in gentle negation. “I will, but there are things you must first understand. Consider the Tapestry.”

  He looked where she indicated and saw a large Tapestry hanging on the wall. It was filled with intricately sewn pictures of Xanthly scenes. They were so realistic that they almost seemed to be moving. In fact they were moving! “This is magic,” he said.

  “It shows all the scenes of Xanth,” she explained. “In all times of Xanth, up to the present. Here is your glade.”

  The scenes changed, and one part expanded to fill the whole Tapestry. It was a picture of his own neighborhood! There was his sandalwood tree, and the nearby clog tree across the glade. He even saw the little disk set in his tree. “This is as it is right now!” he said, amazed.

  “Here is yesterday,” she said. The Tapestry became blank. She looked surprised. “Now that’s odd; it has never done that before.”

  “Maybe it’s because of what Chlorine did with my time.”

  “Chlorine is involved in this?”

  He explained about the lovely woman and the dragon ass, and how it always seemed to be morning when he traveled. “I think she had something to do with it.”

  Ida nodded. “That would explain it. Nimby has strange powers. She must have asked him to rerun your mornings, so you could travel better. The Tapestry doesn’t know how to account for that.”

  “Maybe if you try someone else’s yesterday, like maybe my tree’s, it would work better.”

  She smiled. “Yes, I’m sure it will.”

  The scene shifted. The trees remained, but now there were fauns and a nymph. Soon the nymph ran away, and one faun chased her off the picture. The other faun retired to the sandalwood tree. “You can see everything!” he said, twice as amazed.

  “Yes, if we know where to look. But it is too complicated to try to watch all Xanth through all time, so we look only when we have reason.” She turned to face him. “Ptero is like that, only more so. It would be difficult to explore, and perhaps dangerous.”

  “But I have to find that faun, or the tree will fade! It was bad enough losing my friend, without losing his tree too.”

  “Yes, of course. I just want you to understand that this is no ordinary mission. It is stranger than anything you may have experienced.”

  “Whatever it is, it is better than letting my friend’s tree fade.”

  “But if you should be lost, then your own tree would fade too.”

  That made him pause. “Do you think that will happen?”

  “I don’t know. I assume the Good Magician made sure you were capable of handling the situation, to the extent anyone could be.”

  “No, he didn’t even talk to me,” Forrest said crossly.

  “Did you go through the Challenges?”

  “Yes! And then he refused to hear my Question.”

  “What were the Challenges like?”

  He described them to her, as she seemed genuinely interested, though he saw little point in this. Still, it was best not to be impolite to a princess. As he described each scene, it appeared on the Tapestry, just as it had happened.

  “So in each case, there was a physical Challenge,” she said, “which you surmounted by using the talent of a person who happened to be there.”

  “Yes, actually. The psychologist, the dot girl, and the wood changing man. I found a way to get them each to help me.”

  “I think this is the kind of ability that would be required on Ptero,” the princess said. “Surely this was the Good Magician’s conclusion.”

  “But he didn’t—”

  “He always has good reason for his actions, though they are seldom immediately apparent to others. I believe he is trying to help you, in his fashion. He did put you in touch with Mare Imbri, after all.”

  “Yes. But—”

  “Now I think you are ready to see Ptero. It is my moon.”

  “Your what?”

  Then he saw something even more surprising than the Tapestry. A tiny ball was swinging around the Princess’ head. It must have been hiding before, because until this time all he had seen was a flicker of something not quite there. It was about the size of a large eyeball. As it came closer to him, i
t brightened.

  “This is Ptero,” Ida said. “It orbits my head, and reacts to my moods. But it is more than just a tiny moon. It is an idea.”

  “It looks pretty solid to me.”

  “It is, in its fashion. You see, I am a Sorceress, and my talent is the Idea. Ptero is a condensation of all the ideas of Xanth, as they were too numerous and complicated to fit inside my head. So it would appear that the faun you seek is no more than an idea, not yet formulated in Xanth.”

  “But how can I find a faun who doesn’t exist?”

  “He does exist. Just not in tangible form. You will have to locate him, and cause him to exist.”

  She had said this was strange. He was beginning to appreciate how serious she was. “You mean that the idea of him is—is there in that ball?”

  “Yes. The idea of everything is there. It seems you will have to go there to find the idea you need.”

  “But I can’t go there!” he protested. “It’s tiny!”

  “Mare Imbri has a spell to make you small enough, in a manner.”

  He didn’t much like the sound of this. “In a manner?”

  “Your body will have to remain behind. Only your soul can go. As you said, Ptero is tiny.”

  “But suppose something happened to my soul?”

  She nodded gravely. “This is the risk you take. I think it will be all right, because the Good Magician evidently thinks so, but there are always risks when the unknown is braved. We don’t know what you may find on Ptero. So it might after all be best if—”

  “No! I must save that tree.”

  “Then we shall have to prepare you for your journey. Your body will rest in this room while your soul visits Ptero. I will be going around the castle, but once you and Imbri are there, that will be no problem. I will return every few hours, so that your soul can find your body when it needs to. And of course Imbri will be guiding you. She has visited Ptero before, so has a small notion of its nature. But none of us will be able to help you if you have trouble. In fact we won’t even know what you are doing. The Tapestry doesn’t orient on Ptero, because it isn’t part of Xanth. It’s a derivative. So you will truly be on your own.”

  Forrest swallowed. “And nobody knows exactly what I’ll find there? But if Imbri has been there—”

  “I went to deliver only brief daydreams,” Imbri said, appearing beside him. He realized that she couldn’t speak to two people at the same time, because she wasn’t physically real. She had to be in the dream of one or the other, so she had disappeared when she talked to Ida. “I had a specific summons. It was like going toward a light. I don’t actually know the geography. I caught only glimpses. Enough to know that it’s a whole world in itself, bigger than Xanth, and maybe more varied. And that time is strange, there.”

  “I’m sure Mare Imbri will be a great help,” Ida said.

  He glanced at her. “How did you know that Imbri had finished speaking to me?”

  “I waited for your blank look to pass. It isn’t polite to interrupt a daydream.”

  “She says she doesn’t know a whole lot about Ptero, and that time is strange there.”

  “She will be able to locate friendly folk there, because she is used to entering minds. That may be your most important asset. And she is always good company, because of the nature of her business.”

  “Yes, of course.” But he was being polite. He had expected a competent guide, and it seemed that Imbri was going to be something less than that.

  “I’m sorry,” Imbri said. “I will do my very best. But it’s true; I can’t guide you perfectly. I think that I turned out to be the best of a bad lot, as far as the Good Magician was concerned.”

  There wasn’t much he could say to that. It would be dishonest to deny what she said.

  “I must ask you again,” Princess Ida said. “Do you really wish to make this excursion? Realistically, I think we have to say that your chances of success are no better than half, and if you fail, both trees may fade. This is at best a doubtful endeavor.”

  He knew she was making sense. But the thought of giving up, of breaking his promise to his friend’s clog tree, appalled him. “No. I must do it.”

  “As you wish. Are there any arrangements you wish to make before you go?”

  “No. I just want to get it done, and return to my tree.”

  “Then lie on this bed, and sniff from the bottle the Good Magician gave you. Its spell will free your soul from your body, so that it can go to Ptero. I will remain close until you arrive there.”

  “But how will you know?” Now that he had decided, he was finding new things to worry about.

  “Imbri will tell me. She will guide you there, then make a quick trip to let me know.”

  He was already becoming happier to have the day mare with him. The notion of losing his soul halfway between his body and the little moon did not appeal.

  He sat on the bed, then removed his knapsack and lay on it. It was very comfortable, but he was unable to relax. This was the weirdest kind of journey he had never before imagined. Still, he had to do it. He reached into the knapsack, which he now had beside him on the bed, and brought out the Good Magician’s bottle. He nerved himself, took hold of the stopper, and pulled. It came loose with a pop, and he held the bottle to his nose and sniffed.

  Suddenly he felt quite alien. He was half caught in a cloying, clinging swamp, truly bogged down. He fought to haul himself free of it. He needed expansion room.

  “Be easy,” a voice said. “You don’t want to tear off any.”

  He looked, but his eyes didn’t focus. In fact, he didn’t seem to have any eyes. He tried to speak, but he didn’t seem to have a mouth either.

  “Just float,” the voice said. “Let your soul coalesce.”

  His soul? He followed the advice, and found that he didn’t have to struggle; he just floated out of the swamp, and as the rest of him came free, it drew in together so that he was a single cloud.

  “Now form an eye, so you can see better.”

  He focused, and the eyeball formed. It focused, and he was able to see a large whitish wall.

  “You are looking at the ceiling. Look down.”

  He rotated his eye, and saw his body lying on the bed, asleep. He tried to exclaim in surprise, but couldn’t. So he formed a mouth. “Oh!” For he realized that that was the bog he had just hauled himself out of.

  “Now make yourself small.”

  He willed himself small. That improved his focus. He saw a horse standing beside him. Her hoofs were planted firmly in mid-air. “Mare Imbri!”

  “Yes. Follow me to Ptero.” She walked away.

  He tried to walk, but had no legs, so he just floated in her wake. She was going toward a huge statue. In a moment he realized that it wasn’t a statue, but was Princess Ida. They were going toward her head.

  “Keep getting smaller,” Imbri said. “We have a long way to go.” He realized that he wasn’t actually hearing her, for he hadn’t formed an ear; he was simply aware of her thoughts. He saw that she was getting smaller herself, so he did the same.

  Ida’s head seemed to grow enormous. Then he saw a small object, like a white ball. It was coming toward them, or they were going toward it. It, too, grew, or seemed to, becoming more like a boulder. Then it was like an island. In fact, it was looming like a moon, which was perhaps unsurprising. Finally it seemed more like a whole world, filling his entire view. It was no longer pure white; he saw that the white was in patches, which seemed to be clouds. Their designs were much more interesting from above than clouds usually seemed from below, because they weren’t flat, they were mountainous.

  Now they were falling toward the planet, and it became ever larger. The spaces between the clouds expanded, and he could see green land and blue sea below. He realized that he and Imbri were still getting smaller, because Ptero was still looking larger. It was amazing how big it seemed, as they plunged toward its varied surface.

  “Time to slow,” Imbri cautioned him.
“We don’t want to land too hard.”

  “But we’re just souls, aren’t we? We have no solidity.”

  “That’s not true. There is a small amount of substance in a soul, and on a world as small as Ptero, that becomes significant. We will be assuming solid form there.”

  He thought of the size of Ptero when he had seen it as a tiny moon circling Princess Ida’s head. Now it seemed larger than all Xanth. Which meant that they were so small as to be invisible specks. Maybe it was possible for their souls to take physical form on that scale. That was a relief, because he wasn’t at all comfortable as a nebulous blob that had to form an eyeball just to see anything.

  He tried to slow, but it didn’t work. He was plunging faster than ever. “How do I do it?”

  “Just form into a wide, flat shape, like a leaf or feather. Then the air will catch you, and you’ll drift down.”

  He tried that, but was still falling uncomfortably fast. “It’s not working very well.”

  “Oh, I forgot: you have a whole soul. It’s twice as dense as my half soul. So you are twice as heavy. See if you can form into a parachute.”

  “What kind of a parrot?”

  “Like this.” She became a kind of upside-down cup, with strings leading down to a lump of herself below. “It’s a Mundane concept. The canopy catches the air, and the blob guides it down.”

  He emulated her form, and it began to work. His broad cloth-like upper section caught the air, and dragged, and slowed the descent of the compact lower part of him. Even so, they were coming down a good deal faster than he liked. He expanded his mantle, but before it was able to do much good, he plunged into the blue sea near the white coast of the green land.

  He descended way down below the surface of the water. He held his breath and spread his hands, trying to swim toward the surface. Then he heard Imbri: “Be a fish!”

  Oh. He formed into a fish, and then he had no problem. She formed into a sea horse beside him. “Swim to land. I must tell Ida that we are safely here.”

  “But—” But she was already gone.

  So he strengthened his tail and fins and swam as strongly as he could toward land. He hoped there weren’t any sea monsters here, because one of them could gobble him up. Though probably he could change into something else, like a stink horn, and get away.