Fire Sail

by Piers Anthony

  If he couldn’t make her go, then he would have to go himself. He turned and marched back to the door, and out.

  “Dell!” she cried despairingly after him.

  It felt as if she were drawing his heart out through his back and to the bed where she lay. But he lurched on to the next room, opened the door, and almost fell into it.

  “Dell!” Grania exclaimed in a far more solicitous tone. “What’s the matter?”

  “Zephyr wants to come with us on the boat. So she can get to her performances. I can’t let her persuade me, though I wish I could. It would be wrong.”

  Nia came to him and enfolded him. “Poor boy,” she said. “You’re up against a pro.”

  Dell let go and cried. She held him as she would her grandson, with no condemnation or condescension, letting him drain his misery out on her shoulder. She truly understood him, accepting him as he was.

  Afterward, they sat on her bed and talked. “We are still being tested,” she said. “This mission with the boat must be even more important than we thought.”

  “Tested?”

  “Do you really think Zephyr would do what she did without the Good Magician’s permission? That he wouldn’t know, with a demoness wife watching the Castle?”

  “I guess not,” he said, realizing. “I thought she was trying to—to subvert me for her own purpose. You mean I could have—have spent the night with her, and it would have been all right?”

  “Not at all. It would have washed you out. Humfrey wants incorruptible folk on the boat. He knew you were honest when scoring your test, but subversion by an attractive woman is another matter. There may be other such women we will encounter on the boat. I think you just passed that test.”

  “I don’t know. It was awful close. If it hadn’t been for you nearby—”

  “We’re a team. We shore up each other. That’s what counts.”

  “And I’m the weak link,” he said ruefully.

  “No. We are equal links.”

  “But you would never do anything wrong.”

  “I am not at all sure of that. Neither was the Good Magician. So he tested me too.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Remember how Dara led you away after Humfrey cut you off? I remained there. Here is how it was.”

  “That wasn’t nice,” Grania told the Good Magician. “His question was reasonable. How can anyone deliver anything anywhere, if he doesn’t know where the destination is?”

  Humfrey peered at her over his tome. “You reprove me?” he demanded. “After all the mistakes you have made in your dull life?”

  “Yes, when you are unnecessarily discourteous. That’s one of the things my mistakes have taught me: beware of the arrogance of power. Someone has to caution you, if your wives don’t.”

  He frowned. “They try. I ignore them, of course.”

  “And you alienate them the way I alienated my husband and son. Bad mistake. Maybe it takes an outsider to correct your error.”

  “You have nerve.”

  “I am old enough and bruised enough to assert myself regardless. I ruined my life; I’d hate to see you ruin yours. I could have used a wet porpoise in my youth.”

  “Pun on ‘What purpose’,” he said, catching it immediately. “The water mammal that gives a needy soul a purpose for any occasion.”

  “Exactly. You could use one now.”

  She expected him to blow up and either strike her down with magic or order her forever out of his office. So be it; truth was truth, and she intended never to deviate from it in the time she had remaining.

  He surprised her by doing neither. “You have confirmed what I suspected: I need a person like you to run my Castle. Someone with more continuity than my ever-shifting wives. Someone who can handle herself and others without getting corrupted.”

  “I hope you find her. You’re doing good work here, and it needs to continue.”

  “You,” he said, pointing a gnarled finger at her.

  “Not me. You have assigned me to help deliver the boat, remember?”

  “Other women exist. I will renew my search for them.”

  “So renew your search for a castle mistress.” But she reconsidered as she spoke. “That is—”

  “You used the word correctly: the one who runs the household. I prefer to have you.”

  “And what about the boat?”

  “We will find someone else to sail with young Lydell.”

  She considered that momentarily. “No.”

  “This is not your decision to make!” he snapped.

  “Yes it is. Dell trusts me, and he needs managing. I have come to know him well in the past night and day, and I will not betray him. I will go with him, though I dread the weather in the sky. I hate storms.”

  A look of cold calculation crossed his wizened features. “I will sweeten the pot. Not only will the Castle duty serve as your payment for the life satisfaction you will achieve, I will upgrade your talent to something more potent.”

  “It’s a nothing talent,” she said dismissively. “Nothing upgraded is still not much.”

  “Precisely. But suppose you could actually see through those eyes you form? Like this?” He made a magic gesture. “Form your eyes.”

  Bemused, she did, generating a huge pair of scary eyes to stare at him. Then she paused, startled.

  She was seeing through the eyes. They were so large they fielded far more detail. She could see every pore on the old gnome’s head.

  She sent the eyes moving through the dingy window and outside the castle. She saw everything in marvelous detail. It was phenomenal. What a great time she could have with such eyes!

  But it was still wrong. She shut them down, returning to the study. “No. Dell needs me, and I will not disappoint him or the boat.”

  “I will sweeten the pot further. I will upgrade Lydell’s talent equivalently, and give him a satisfying position here at the Castle, so that you can continue managing him as required.”

  That actually tempted her. Dell would love having a better talent, and a good job. “What of his desire to have a good girl who loves him?”

  “Zephyr will take a love potion if I ask her to. She could make him an excellent wife.”

  “Darn.” That was almost a bleep, because she had to consider this seriously. It was a shortcut to the fulfillment of each of their desires.

  Then it was as if she heard Dell’s voice. “It’s too easy. We haven’t earned it.”

  And her own misgiving, which she voiced: “And what of the boat?”

  Humfrey sighed. “We will renew our search for a suitable crew. Actually there are some excellent prospects; unfortunately they are as yet too young.”

  “So the boat could be hung up for some time, while its new proprietors wait.”

  “Yes. But you need not be concerned about that.”

  “But I am concerned about that, and I know Dell is too. So this business of profiting ourselves at the expense of the boat and proprietors is wrong, and I won’t do it.”

  He glared at her. “Is that your final decision?”

  “Nothing is ever really final. You know that, Magician. But it means I won’t be bought off by your favors. As it stands, it’s the boat or nothing, much as I may regret it when the weather turns. I have spoken. Now throw a grumpy tantrum if you must.”

  There was two thirds of a long pause. Then the Magician did something strange indeed. He smiled. It was a wonder his face didn’t crack. “You resist corruption even by me. You will take the boat.”

  She was amazed, but took it in stride. “In that case, please answer the question Dell asked: Where are we supposed to take it?”

  “That remains indefinite. You will have to fathom hints along the way. This is one reason I want the two of you: the auspices indicate that by working toge
ther you have the best chance of completing the mission with reasonable dispatch.”

  “Translation: we’re on our own.”

  “Yes. That’s why we had to find fully trustworthy navigators. We will have no further authority over the craft once we turn over the keys.”

  She had already seen enough of the boat to know that this was a considerable act of trust. Nia shook her head. “You’re a wonder, Magician. I can’t say I have encountered anyone else like you.”

  “I return the compliment. Now go your way.” His tired eyes returned to the tome. She had been dismissed.

  Dara was there. “I will show you to your room.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The Magician is very pleased with you. That was his first smile in a decade.”

  Nia laughed. “That is good to know.”

  They passed the banquet hall, then went on to the guest room section.

  In her room she cleaned up and changed, then went next door to collect Dell for dinner. Otherwise he wouldn’t know where to go, for food or anything else. He was a typical youth. He needed her, until such time as he found a good young woman to take over his management.

  “And the rest you already know,” she concluded.

  Dell was amazed. “I could have had Zephyr?”

  “I apologize for making your decision for you.”

  “It was the right decision.”

  “Yes, it was,” she agreed, seeming half surprised that he accepted it so readily. She knew that Zephyr had really put him to the test.

  “May I—?”

  “Clean up and join me for the night,” she agreed.

  He did, no longer wanting privacy, though she gave it to him. He came to lie beside her on the bed, and she held his hand. He knew that she knew he would so much rather have slept with Zephyr. But he was bound by his honor, as was she.

  “You seem sweet.”

  “Oh. It’s that sweetie pie I ate. I didn’t realize what it would do.”

  She laughed. “That explains it. You were honest. Now you’re sweetly honest.”

  In the morning Zephyr, as pretty as ever, came to take them to breakfast, which was in a separate alcove. Dell felt the awkwardness. “About last night—” he began.

  She smiled. “Remember the Challenge exam? You thought you flunked, but you passed.”

  He was confused. “But—”

  Grania put her hand on his. “You passed again.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I am glad of it,” Zephyr said. “If you find the proprietors for the boat, and still don’t have your girl, come to me. You have won my respect. I would not need to take a love potion.”

  He remained speechless.

  “Thank you, dear,” Nia said, a bit dryly. “We appreciate the offer.”

  “And the Good Magician will still hire you to run the Castle. I’d like that, though I won’t be here anymore. So would the wives. There’s only so much grumpiness they can take, even changing off every month.”

  Grania shrugged. “No one really knows the future.” But Dell could tell she was pleased. It was nice to be valued.

  After breakfast Dara Demoness reappeared. “You will see Humfrey now. He has a surprise for you.”

  Dell sent Nia a mental glance, and she returned it. This whole adventure had been one surprise after another. What could be next?

  Soon they stood before the Good Magician again. He looked up from his tome. “You will need your enhanced talents for the mission. Verify them now.”

  Enhanced talents? For half a moment Dell was blank.

  Nia filled in, sparing him awkwardness, as she did so often. “My eyes. His quality changes.” Her staring eyes appeared over her head. “I can see through them again!” One of the eyes winked.

  Humfrey lifted a dull letter opener. “Enhance it,” he told Dell.

  Dell changed its color to that of bright steel so that it looked like a deadly knife.

  The Magician took an apple from a basket to the side. He applied the knife to it. Of course that would just break the letter opener, because it only looked strong and sharp.

  The Magician cut the apple in half.

  Dell stared. The letter opener had become what it looked like, a sharp knife.

  “Practice,” Humfrey said. “Become proficient. It will make a difference.” His eyes returned to the tome.

  They took the hint and departed. “The bribes,” Nia said as they descended the stairs. “We’re getting them anyway.”

  “Your mission is important,” Dara said. “We all want you to succeed.”

  So it seemed.

  “Zephyr will conduct you to the boat,” Dara said, and faded out.

  The girl came. “This way, please. We parked it on the moat.”

  “The moat?” Dell asked. “When it can fly?”

  “So the moat monster can bid farewell to his friends.”

  This time Dell’s sidelong glance collided with Nia’s glance and both fell, damaged; they had not aimed them well, wasting perfectly good motions. Moat monsters had friends?

  Sure enough, now the firesail boat was sitting on the water of the moat. The huge head of the moat monster hovered beside it.

  The Good Magician and Dara Demoness were there. “I regret I cannot be more specific,” he said. “The fact is, Fibot is off my charts, in an indeterminate region of reality, perhaps a substream of chaos. I am frustratingly unable to fathom its future. So I have tried to recruit the best crew to pilot it to its destination, whatever that may be, and to prepare you appropriately for that chore.”

  Fibot? Oh, that would be the Firesail Boat.

  He thought he heard Nia’s thought, parallel to his own: Chore?

  “You will need suitable hints to guide it,” Dara said. “When I was cleaning up a forgotten pile of old socks, I delved under it and found several scraps of paper, each with some words. I realized that these must have fallen out of the Book of Lost Answers, the compendium of all the answers that didn’t make it into the Book of Answers. Now that Book is safely lost again and we can’t return those Answers. So these are lost from the lost book. We don’t know their proper questions. But perhaps they represent suitable hints for your voyage.”

  Lost answers? Could the spraint riddle and Evil Whispers poem be two other lost answers? That might explain why they were so confusing.

  “What did those papers say?” Nia asked, ever the practical one.

  “Read them yourself,” the demoness said. “Here they are.” She handed the papers to Nia, and faded out. The Good Magician was already gone, having spoken his piece.

  “Look for the Children,” Nia read. “A Royal Wedding. Future Visit. Mountain Garden. In Your Dreams.” She looked up. “You’re right. Without the relevant questions, these are merely hints.”

  “My turn,” Zephyr said briskly. “It requires qualified human beings to handle the sail and rudder, and to open the hatch and operate the magic controls, provided they have the keys. Follow me.”

  “Uh—” Dell said.

  She ignored him and stepped onto the boat. She squatted in the center, beside the lowered mast, then pulled up a round lid. There was a hole in the bottom of the boat! Yet no water was pouring in.

  Zephyr looked back at them. “Are you coming?”

  Mutually embarrassed, Dell and Nia stepped onto the boat and joined her in the center. Zephyr was already halfway down into the hole. Were her feet soaking in the water of the moat?

  No, there turned out to be a ladder down into a sizable compartment below. In fact it was a chamber filled with furniture, with a level deck extending to the sides. The chamber was considerably larger than the upper boat. How was this possible? They had seen the bottom of the boat before, and it was shallow drafted.

  “Magic,” Zephyr said, somehow divining their thoughts. “I
t’s larger inside than outside. It’s a very special craft. It has all the facilities essential for traveling: stored food, bedding, toilets, showers, and so on. You’ll get used to them.”

  “Evidently so,” Nia breathed.

  “Now it is time to meet the inhabitants.”

  Inhabitants?

  Zephyr raised her voice. “Firebird! Firedog! Here to me!” To Dell and Nia she said, “I’ve been taking care of them, because they can’t operate the controls. That will be your job now.”

  She had been taking care of animals in the boat? Obviously she had needed no assistance from Dell. She could have taken the craft at any time she wanted.

  A small greenish bird fluttered up to perch on her shoulder. “What a motley crew!” she exclaimed. Except that her mouth wasn’t moving.

  Now it did. “This is the Pet Peeve. It insults folk using its companion’s voice. It is adept at fomenting mischief. It even spent time in hell, and was booted when it wore out its welcome there. Now it’s keeping an eye on Fibot.”

  The bird flew across to perch on Dell’s shoulder. “What’re you doing here, Grandma?” Dell’s voice demanded. “Did you get kicked out of the old folks’ home?”

  “Hey, I didn’t—” Dell said.

  The bird jumped across to Nia. “And get a load of Stupid, here,” her voice said. “He can’t even open his mouth, lest the ignorance spill out like vomit.”

  Nia opened her mouth. “Can it, feather-brain! I have heard of you.”

  “Spoilsport! You’re as bad as Don Peyote.”

  “Who?”

  “He was an older dreamer and adventurer we considered,” Zephyr said. “He had real imagination.”

  “But he was stuck on desert drugs,” Nia’s voice said.

  “I’m not on any drugs!” the real Nia snapped.

  “And Tata Dogfish,” Zephyr said. “He came down with a shower. He’s a robot who doesn’t talk, but you can read his face screen.”