Magenta Salvation

by Piers Anthony

  MAGENTA

  SALVATION

  MAGENTA

  SALVATION

  sequel to

  Virtue Inverted

  and

  Amazon Expedient

  by

  Piers Anthony

  and

  Kenneth Kelly

  Magenta Salvation

  Copyright © 2019 by Piers Anthony and Kenneth Kelly

  Cover Art & Design:

  Editor-in-Chief: Kristi King-Morgan

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN: 978-1-947381-15-5

  www.dreamingbigpublications.com

  Other books in this series

  Virtue Inverted

  Amazon Expedient

  Other Books by Piers Anthony

  from Dreaming Big Publications

  Writer’s Retweet

  Service Goat

  Series

  Hair Power

  Hair Suite

  Hair Peace

  Relationships 6

  Relationships 7

  Prologue

  T he Pawben didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when he awoke to the sun blinding his eyes. Sitting up, he realized he was sitting on a grassy knoll which sloped down to a river that looked an awful lot like the Gant River of his childhood. A cool breeze wafted through the trees behind him, tousling his snow-white hair and beard. He took a deep breath. The setting was invigorating; he could almost feel his youth returning to him. He crawled down to the riverbank and leaned over the gently rolling stream to get a drink when he gasped at his reflection. He looked as if he were barely 16, with long flowing hair and, most importantly, no scar disfiguring his face.

  “Hey, silly goose,” a voice said behind him.

  Could it be…? Yes, it was. Virtue stood at the edge of the forest behind him, an opalescent dress draping her curvaceous body.

  “Get over here,” she commanded.

  Tears streaming down his now restored cheeks, Benny dashed into Virtue’s embrace. Together they stood, each nuzzling their mouths in the crook of the other’s neck. Benny didn’t want to let go, but finally his wife pushed him back.

  “Your time here is short, for now, and as much as I’d like, I can’t afford to waste that time cuddling.” She smiled and Benny’s heart soared.

  “How?” Benny asked.

  “Let’s just say an old friend named Search gave us this reunion in return for a few errands he had me run. The others wanted to come, too, but we figured this would be better.”

  Benny looked down at himself and noticed his body begin to age. The scar had returned, and his hair and beard were growing and beginning to transform back into the gray mane they had been.

  “Let me stay, I beg of you!”

  “I’m not the one who makes that decision, love. You know that.” Virtue held him close once again.

  “I’ve traversed hundreds of worlds…diverted wars, made and lost friends, and suffered hardships no creature should ever endure. My time is almost spent, I can feel it. I have nothing more left in me.”

  “Do you forget the task you took from Dale’s son? Have you forgotten the child, Aldwin Beranger?” Virtue teasingly slapped the old man’s face.

  “It’s not that I’ve forgotten him, Virtue. My bones are brittle, my once great magic is nearly spent, and the pain of staying away from you and the others haunts my mind.”

  “Don’t fret, love. The Protector knows how you long to be reunited with me…with all of us…but you cannot abandon the boy yet.”

  “But I’ve already arranged for Toadstool to take care of the boy if…”

  “I’m glad you’ve made such a trusting friendship with Toadstool, but the task was given to you, Benny. Not him.”

  “Please…” Pawben pleaded, now on his knees. He buried his face into Virtue’s stomach. She ran her fingers through his coarse, white hair, making him shiver in joy and anguish.

  “You have one last adventure you must see through…one last task. One you and Aldwin must do together. When it is finished, the gauntlet will be passed on to him, and he will continue your work, and that of his forefathers.” Virtue leaned over, kissing the old man passionately one final time.

  “I can’t…” Pawben sobbed.

  Virtue’s playful laughter filled his ears as everything faded to black. “You always made mountains out of molehills,” She placed her hand on his cheek one last time. “It won’t be long, Ben. Trust me on this one.”

  The Pawben awoke as he fell face-first off the edge of the couch. He banged his nose on the hardwood floor, causing a thin stream of blood to trickle onto the floor as he rose to all fours. He was dizzy, breathing in short, hard gasps that sounded as if he were trying to stifle a cry. He finally arose, looking around him before remembering where he’d spent the night. Wet with sweat, he tore off his robes until he wore nothing but his skid-marked underpants. Pawben looked down at his wrinkled body. Not bad for 200 years, he thought. Looking around in the darkness, he saw the faint glow of candlelight illuminating the stairs to the second floor, and upon grabbing his staff, staggered up them to find Toadstool in his small library, reading from a book and puffing on a crude cigar.

  “Thought you quit those things,” Pawben said, startling Toadstool and causing the tortoise to drop both book and cigar on the floor.

  “You nearly scared me out of my shell!” He picked up his cigar and continued puffing as he resumed his reading.

  Pawben looked over at the other end of the room and saw the little boy, Aldwin, asleep on Toadstool’s bed.

  “Mind if I join you?” Pawben pulled up a chair across from Toadstool. “Give me one of those.”

  Toadstool reached into a small jar on the table beside him, pulled out a cigar, and handed it to Pawben. The old man bit the tip off the head, raised his right forefinger to the foot of the cigar, and in an instant Pawben was puffing thick white smoke.

  “Parlor tricks,” Toadstool stated.

  “That’s about the only thing that keeps me from forgetting my magic altogether.”

  The whole time they sat together, Toadstool never looked up from his book. “What’s bothering you?” he asked.

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “Cuz I heard you downstairs, whimpering like a stuck pig.” His eyes looked up at the old human across from him. “And you muttering some garbage about pawning that boy off on me.”

  For a second, Pawben thought Toadstool was angry, but the tortoise winked at him, chuckled, and set down the book next to the jar of cigars.

  Pawben accidentally inhaled too much smoke and nearly fell out of his chair as a riotous coughing fit ensued. He held the cigar up in front of him and winced. “I prefer my pipe, thank you,” he said. He stuck it back in his mouth and leaned back in his chair.

  “You didn’t answer my question…what’s bothering you?” Toadstool pressed the question.

  “Oh, just a dream I had.”

  “A nightmare?”

  “No, it was good…in a way…I was with someone I used to know.” Pawben looked down at his long, dirty toenails.

  “Virtue?” Toadstool asked, grinning.

  “How did you…?”

  “You were saying her name over and over and…”

  “Ok, I get it,” Pawben took a long draw on his cigar. “Yes, it was her. I haven’t communicated with her in quite some time. It was pleasant, but a bit unsettling when I realized I wasn’t staying with her. I’m surprised my vision was with her and not my other wives.
”

  “Because you loved her most,” Toadstool teased.

  “No…I loved them all,” Pawben was sincere, “but she was first. Perhaps that’s why Search chose to reunite us for that brief respite.”

  “Well, what did Virtue say, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Something about one last journey the boy and I were going to take in the near future…something about passing my work on to him.” Pawben sighed, spewing smoke out his mouth and nostrils.

  “I thought you were trying to prevent Aldwin from following in y’all’s footsteps?” Why won’t you wipe that stupid smirk off your face? Pawben thought as Toadstool finished his sentence.

  “I am…but it would appear that a higher power has other plans for him.”

  “Well, as long as he doesn’t get half as bad as his grandfather did, he should be okay.”

  “Don’t joke about that!” Pawben exclaimed.

  Toadstool held both hands in the air, as if he was under arrest. He looked down at the staff Pawben had set on the floor between them. “Is that the one that the king gave you?”

  “The Emperor of Upper Sultry, yes. It came in handy during our ordeal with the Sky Titans.”

  Toadstool rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. “The next chapter in the epic of Benny Clout! Let's hear it!”

  Pawben sat silently for a moment, gently puffing the cigar. He was extremely tired, but didn’t want to risk a second episode with a long-deceased loved one. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand over the burning end of the cigar, extinguishing it. He tossed it into the copper spittoon at Toadstool’s feet and leaned back.

  “Get comfortable, turtle boy. This one is a doozy.”

  Chapter 1

  Benny

  B enny woke up on his stomach, face-first in a puddle of what smelled like urine; he was completely naked and his hands were tied behind his back. The foul stench of fecal matter, human and otherwise, greeted his nostrils as he struggled to his knees. He could tell by wiggling his nose that it had been broken and reset, and as he ran his tongue across his upper lip he could taste flakes of dried blood. It was pitch black and, no matter which direction he looked, he could see nothing. He strained to remember where he was and how he’d gotten there, but for the time being his mind was a blank canvas.

  “Where the hell am I? Is there anybody there?” he called, greeted only by painful moans and cursing.

  “Stop yelling or they’ll come back and kill us all,” a hoarse voice whispered nearby.

  Benny looked in the direction of the voice…as if that would do any good. “Where are we? What’s going on?”

  “You’re in a dungeon, moron, or ain’t you noticed?” the same voice whispered again.

  He cringed at the feeling of a mud-like substance on his rump as he sat in a more comfortable position. He splayed his legs out in front of him, but quickly pulled them back as he felt a hairy limb brush against his.

  “Human?” the voice inquired.

  “What’d you expect,” Benny responded. “Aren’t you human?”

  “I’m a Voot…a Tiger man. You’re in a Voot dungeon. How hard did they hit you, boy?”

  Benny tried his best to remember what had transpired prior to awaking in that hellhole of a dungeon, still to no avail. He knew who the Voot were; a race of Tiger-men, one of which he remembered Helena fighting at the tournament in Upper Sultry. But what was he doing in their compound? “How long have I been here?” he asked the prisoner.

  “I’ve been here for at least a day…maybe two…and they haven’t brought anyone in here since before then. You do the math.”

  “Well, if I got here before you, didn’t you see them bring me into your settlement?” Benny asked.

  “A few days before they arrested me I saw a patrol of our soldiers come into our city carrying your limp body…but they’d put a hood over your head. They didn’t go into particulars as to who you were, and I didn’t ask.”

  “Why are you here?” Benny pried.

  “What are you, the question king? Shut up and mind your own business. I told you before that if they catch us talking they’ll skin us both.”

  Benny was annoyed at the Voot’s attitude and decided to keep his mouth shut. He sat there for what felt like an eternity before a small door opened at the far end of the room. An armored Voot soldier wearing a plumed helmet and carrying a spear quickly entered, crossing the dungeon cell and grabbing Benny roughly under the armpit.

  “What’s going on?” Benny asked.

  “Shut up and move, human scum!” he barked, practically dragging Benny into a darkly lit hallway.

  Benny looked around at his surroundings for the first time. They walked down a narrow stone hallway. Aside from an occasional torch mounted on the wall, and the occasional cell door, it was a void tunnel. Several Voot soldiers passed as Benny was being escorted, and they had no qualms with knocking him out of the way as they did so. Once, Benny fell backwards onto the floor, only to be kicked hard in the gut by his escort. “Get up, you hairless monkey!” he yelled at Benny.

  “You know, this would be a hell of a lot easier if you’d just tell me what’s going on…”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, trespasser. Now shut up or the only part of you to meet the elders will be your head on my pike!” The Voot began walking even faster. Benny’s feet ached as they pounded the rough stone floor.

  Trespassing? Benny thought. It wasn’t much of an answer, but at least he knew why he was being imprisoned. He didn’t know much about the Voot, aside from that they were a very militaristic race of humanoid tigers and that they lived secluded in various parts of Upper Sultry. Apparently he had somehow wound up on Voot land, uninvited, and got his skull cracked so hard he’d completely lost his memory. Then it hit him; he’d been traveling with Dale Beranger and Helena the Amazon. They were trying to reach some city in the Northern Mountains, but why? Things began coming back in bits and pieces, but not enough for Benny to patch together.

  They arrived at a door, which the soldier thrust open, shoving Benny into a dimly lit room. Benny looked around. It seemed to be some sort of bathing room. In the center was a large tub set into the stone floor, and next to it a small wooden table with what looked like folded clothes. On the far wall there was a mirror and a small wooden stool beside it. All the comforts of home, Benny thought, rolling his eyes.

  “You have thirty minutes to wash yourself and dress. Then you’ll go before the city elders to decide your fate. I’ll be right outside the door. Try anything and you’re dead!” the soldier said before storming back out the door, leaving Benny alone.

  He walked over to the tub and saw a small green block of some unknown substance on the floor. Picking it up, he dipped it into the water and rubbed it between his hands to produce lather. Benny sniffed the soap. It smelled like dirty feet, but it was better than feces. He bathed quickly, only to realize after climbing out of the now rank water that there were no towels; he had to drip dry. After shaking himself off like a dog, he dressed in the garments provided. They were of a red silky material, consisting of a pair of loose trousers and a tunic which wrapped around his body at the waist. He slipped them on and walked over to the mirror.

  “Lovely,” Benny said as he gazed upon his appearance.

  His hair, now somewhat clean, was messy and unkempt, and his beard was long and knotted in several spots. The clothing he’d been supplied was wet and clinging to his body, which was especially uncomfortable in the crotch area. He sat down on the stool and leaned against the cold stone wall. For what little time he had, he closed his eyes in rest and attempted to piece together the events that led to this predicament.

  

  “It’ll take some time for word to spread about his death,” said Tele, “and it’ll take even more time to harvest the loyal crop from the weeds that will hopefully surrender to Magenta.”

  “Tele’s right. A number of the Kudgels will turn to Magenta, being the same blood of their former leader. B
ut it would be stupid to think they’d all surrender. We still don’t know how far this initial rebellion has spread, or what allies Purp had. I have a feeling the forces we’ve fought so far were just the tip of the iceberg,” Dale said, kneeling in the spot where Purp’s body had been.

  Helena spoke next. “Even so, we can’t afford to dawdle. But we can’t make for Upper Sultry in our present state. Even an Amazon has her limits.”

  “I think it’s best, all things considered, that we return to Gant, rest, and prepare for the journey,” said Virtue. Benny merely sat in silence, the horrors of the night’s events just now coming to full realization.

  “It looks like you have your hands full.” Tele stepped out of the wagon, “I’d love to help further, but my part ends here.”

  “You’ve done enough. We owe you one,” Dale said, saluting the vampire.

  The telepath nodded and quickly fled into the night. Benny was trembling, trying to fight off tears. Dale looked at him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Benny jerked away violently and crossed to the other end of the wagon. “Can we just get the hell outta here?!” he yelled.

  Dale nodded, and assumed his role driving the wagon. They rode in silence back to Gant, and as they arrived at the Fox Den, the first rays of morning were illuminating the sky. Some of the villagers had come out of hiding, and had begun gathering the dead to be buried or burned. When they got to the inn, they saw the blacksmith standing at the door. “I didn’t move Jack or any of the bodies in the inn. Figured y’all would want to take care of them yourselves,” he said.

  Dale walked past him and into the dining hall. Helena walked down to the river, stripped down and began bathing, oblivious to whatever observers there were. I doubt anyone would care after last night, Benny thought.

  “I’ll fill the basin in our room. Go have a drink with Dale and relax for a bit. We have a little time to spare.” Virtue kissed his cheek and crossed the bridge to their wing of the inn.