xanth 40 - isis orb

by Anthony, Piers

“Fi fo fum fee,” the ogre chanted. “He she feed me.” He smiled, showing tusk-like yellow teeth.

  “Close in on my voice,” Zed said. “I will reach across and take your hands when you are close enough.”

  They went to the patch of brambles that masked the voice. Sure enough, they were illusion. They reached out. Then Hapless felt his hand taken, and saw that Feline was similarly caught. They were drawn forward another step, and the path formed around them. Zed was holding their hands.

  The ogre stood amidst the brambles, scratching his hairy head. Where had they gone?

  “Thank you,” Feline said, relieved. “That was nervous business.”

  “I begin to see a reason for my presence on this Quest,” Zed said. “Not merely to find my own true love.”

  “Well, when you find her, give her this,” Feline said, and kissed his ear. Hapless saw the ear brighten as the kiss landed. She did have the touch.

  “It does seem that we are meant to be a team,” Hapless said as he put his pack back on.

  “Yet I wonder,” Zed said. “If the path and I were covered by illusion, how is it that the cemoness and the goblins were able to see us?”

  “They must be specially attuned,” Hapless said thoughtfully.

  “Maybe we should learn that tuning,” Feline said. “So we don’t get caught out again.”

  It was late, and they were tired, but they did it right then, taking turns stepping off the path and being guided back. Gradually they became aware of it, seeing its faint light as a phantom guide through the wilderness. Zed did it too, appreciating the need. Only when they were satisfied did they settle down again for the night, pitching another blanket tent.

  Feline hesitated as the two of them lay down together in the tent. “Can I trust you?”

  “I certainly hope so,” Hapless said, perplexed.

  “Good.” She went to sleep in human form, lovely in her repose.

  Oh. When he thought about it, he was inordinately pleased. She did trust him.

  In the morning they resumed their hike, appreciating the surrounding scenery in a way they had not before. There were indeed demons, goblins, and ogres in these parts, not seen because of the protection of the path.

  The path approached a mountain, but instead of going around it, it ascended, winding around it like a serpent, climbing high along a road inset into its steep slope—an inset that surely didn’t exist outside the enchantment. The ground spread out below like a variegated tapestry, with forests fields, rivers, ponds, and in the distance, the sea. As they looked at each feature, that feature enhanced itself, the forest becoming greener, the river smoother, the pond larger, and the sea more formidable. Hapless knew that was a standard aspect of Xanth, where not only animals but plants and geography had their awareness and liked to be admired.

  “I do appreciate you, all of you,” he murmured, feeling a bit foolish. “You are a wonder to behold.” Then the whole scene brightened appreciatively, and he no longer felt foolish.

  At last they came to a lofty dragon’s nest atop the highest crag. It looked exposed, but Hapless could see that it was soundly bound to the rock and was secure. The precipitous path went up to it and stopped, as if hesitating to leap on into space.

  “Welcome, Quest,” a dulcet voice called. It came from the figure within the nest, not a dragon but a naga, with a serpentine tail and torso, topped by a human head, hands, and yes, breasts. Not all naga sported more than their heads on serpentine bodies, but each crossbreed was a rule unto itself.

  “Uh, hello, Nya,” Hapless answered, his eyes striving valiantly and not completely successfully to remain cool while confronted by that bare bosom. “We—we have come to enlist you as a Companion. If you’re—you’re interested.”

  “Of course I’m interested,” Nya Naga said. “All my life I have struggled to discover my purpose in life, and now at last I have the chance to accomplish it. I was thrilled to see the enchanted path come my way.”

  “Uh, yes.” Feline nudged him, and he realized that he was drifting, mentally or emotionally. “So we should—should get to know each other, because there will be challenges and we can’t be sure we’ll survive.”

  “That’s why you need a dragon in your company.” She shifted, becoming a winged dragon. It breathed out just enough fire to incinerate a buzzing fly that had come in too close, then shifted back to naga form.

  “Uh, yes, I guess. This is my friend Feline, a human/cat crossbreed.”

  Nya eyed Feline. “Friend or girlfriend?”

  “Girlfriend,” Feline said before Hapless could deny it.

  “That explains the cuttingly sharp glances,” Nya said. “What is your concern, Feline?”

  “Your bare boobs. You could use a halter.”

  “I can’t use a halter, or a bra, because when I change forms, they could remain around my body, entangling it. Anyway there is no social need.” Nya glanced at Zed. “Is there, centaur?”

  “None,” Zed agreed. Obviously the naga knew that centaur fillies regarded clothing as superfluous, and wore it only when tutoring human children, if then. She had trumped Feline at the outset.

  “I’m glad that’s decided,” Nya said graciously.

  Hapless didn’t dare look at Feline, who was surely steaming. “And this is Zed Centaur.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get along,” Nya said. “You are concerned about your coloration?”

  “Yes. My father was a zebra. But what I really want is to find true love regardless of my colors.”

  “And I want to find someone who will love me for something other than my curves,” Feline said.

  “And I want to find a musical instrument I can play,” Hapless said.

  “But you look half smitten with Feline.”

  It was that obvious? “It’s complicated. It seems that I am fated to have two or three girlfriends, one of whom will be bad. While the prospect is intriguing, it does make things awkward with Feline.”

  “Well, I will put your concern about me at rest, Feline,” Nya said. “I would love to have a suitable boyfriend, but I think he needs to be dragon or naga, not human. Human men are too partial to panties, which I will never have. At any rate, my primary concern is to find my purpose, as I mentioned. So an eyeful is all either male of your party will ever have of me. I don’t begrudge them that, but that’s the limit.”

  “Fair enough,” Feline said, though Hapless wasn’t sure that was her complete sentiment.

  “This nest,” Zed said, looking over the edge. “Is there a reason for it to be so isolated?”

  “Yes. It is safe from everything except flying predators, and as a dragon I have little reason to fear those. Closer to the ground it could be overrun by assorted ground predators, which could get messy. I prefer to sleep in peace.”

  “Are you able to converse in your dragon form?”

  “Only with other dragons,” Nya said. “I can understand human dialogue, but lack the mouth to speak it. So if you want conversation, it will have to be in this form.” She glanced at Feline as if mildly amused.

  “This form is fine,” Zed agreed.

  Feline kept silent, and Hapless saw fit not to comment on forms. “We would like to get to know you better, as Feline said. In an emergency, we need to know each other’s capacities well enough to make quick decisions. We will happily fill you in on our personal histories.”

  “Mine is simply told,” Nya said. “I am a dragon/naga crossbreed, the result of an encounter at a love spring, as it seems is the case with two of you. The dragons tolerate me but do not welcome me, because I am a crossbreed. The naga don’t even welcome me; dragons make them nervous. So I was sent away to get a centaur education, and I have respect for centaurs.” She glanced at Zed. “Not romantic, I assure you. But their minds are excellent. So I live mostly alone, and I can handle that. But this is a life largely without purpose, and I am so situated, emotionally, that I crave purpose. There must be some reason for my existence; I do not believe in sheer coincid
ence. That’s why I am eager to join your Quest, and I will support it in any manner I can.”

  Hapless nodded. “More could hardly be asked. There is one other thing, perhaps not important. Do you play a musical instrument?”

  “I’ve always been partial to the harmonica, but I do not play it well, to my regret.”

  “We may be able to remedy that,” Hapless said. He focused, and a fine harmonica appeared in his hand. “Try this.”

  She took it and put it to her mouth. She blew into it. A lovely melody came forth. She paused, surprised. “This must be magic.”

  “Not exactly,” Zed said. “His talent is to summon such instruments, and to facilitate their playing, but he himself can’t play any. We appreciate his frustration.”

  “I see,” Nya said thoughtfully. She played a medley, clearly enjoying it. “May I keep this harmonica?”

  “They last for only a day or so, then fade,” Hapless said. “But I can summon another. Do keep it, and you can always have another one if you wish.”

  “Already I like this Quest.”

  “Let’s play a theme together,” Zed said. “It’s a fine way to bond.”

  Hapless conjured the kit violin for Feline, and a saxophone for Zed. “Do you know ‘The Crossbreed’s Lament’?” Feline asked.

  “Oh, yes!” Nya and Zed said almost together. Hapless wasn’t familiar with it, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t need to play it.

  The three played it together, in three part harmony, and it was wonderful. Hapless, as an audience of one, was entranced despite his sadness at not being able to join them. At least his talent was worth something to others, if not to himself. Then it occurred to him that maybe that was a reason for his presence on the Quest: he could help others bond, when otherwise they might not.

  “You play divinely on that little violin,” Nya told Feline.

  “Thank you,” Feline said, thawing. “Your harmonica is great too.”

  “And that sax,” Nya said. “I never heard one played before, but it’s hard to see how any other could be more mellow. That’s a remarkable instrument.”

  “They all are,” Zed said. “We are magically competent, thanks to Hapless’s talent. We couldn’t do it without him.”

  And there it was: they could not be competitive when they made such lovely music together. Neither could he resent it when they credited him for their abilities. Yet still he wished that he could play an instrument himself.

  Then they settled down for dinner. Nya had a fair supply of foods, and was glad to share it, as in the morning she knew they would leave the nest, maybe never to return. Then they took turns relieving themselves over the edge of the nest; sanitary facilities were simple. It was not at all private, but that was part of the bonding: they were becoming a kind of family.

  But at dusk there was mischief. It started innocently enough. “The enchanted path that brought you here was impressive,” Nya said. “There is no path up the mountain; I knew it was magic the moment it formed. Now it’s gone.”

  Indeed it was. The mountain had reverted to sheer impassibility. “The Good Magician gave me a box,” Hapless explained. “At first it contained only what was irrelevant to my need. I had to learn to think outside the box. Then it contained the paths. When I opened it, there was the picture of Feline in cat form, and the path went to her. Then it showed Zed, and the path chased him down. Then it showed you.”

  “We have to stay on it,” Feline said, smiling. “Or else.”

  “Or else what?”

  “Or else we are suddenly lost in the wilderness,” Zed said. “The path can get covered by illusion so we can’t find it. We have practiced finding it regardless, just in case. But it’s better just to stay on it.”

  “May I see this magic box and path?”

  “Sure,” Hapless said. He dug into his pack, found the box, and drew it out. He held it toward Nya.

  Just then an erratic gust of wind passed by and flipped it from his hand. “Bleep!” he swore as it dropped into the deepening shadows below.

  “I’ll fetch it,” Nya said. She changed to dragon form, spread her wings, and paused. Two bits of fire jetted from her nostrils, making whistlings that sounded like “Uh-oh.” Then she changed back to naga form.

  “What is it?” Feline asked, alarmed.

  “Rocky Roc is coming. I don’t fear most winged monsters, but I can’t fight the roc. Maybe he’s just passing by. Hitherto they’ve ignored me.”

  “And if he isn’t?”

  “Then we’re in trouble.”

  “Which we could have avoided if I set up the next path,” Hapless said ruefully. “I messed up again.”

  “Not your fault,” Feline said. “Bleep happens.”

  He really appreciated her support. But the roc did not veer off. It was coming straight for the nest. It was so big it looked like a flying mountain. It could just about clutch the entire nest in one clawed foot.

  “I’ll try to talk to him,” Nya said.

  “You speak roc talk?”

  “In dragon form I speak the pidgin tongue of the winged monsters. There’s normally a kind of pact. It’s crude but gets the job done.” She changed.

  “Pigeon?” Hapless asked. “Bird talk for the big bird?”

  “Pidgin,” Zed said with authority. “That is a brutally simplified language that occurs when folk of different languages need to communicate. Drastically reduced vocabulary and syntax. Sometimes a pidgin will evolve into its own language, called a creole, which is more sophisticated.”

  “Oh.” Hapless felt ignorant, again.

  The dragon issued a smoky hiss. The approaching roc responded with a raucous cry. The naga reappeared. “Rocky says I have one minute to vacate before he drops the nest into the sea.”

  “But why?” Zed asked. “If you haven’t done anything?”

  “He didn’t say. He’s just mad. He called me ‘burn breath.’ You can’t argue with an angry roc. Especially not in pidgin. We have to vacate.”

  “Can you carry us?” Hapless asked.

  “I’m not that big a dragon. I could carry a cat, and maybe a human for a short distance slanting down, but not a centaur.”

  “Could we stay in the nest, then swim to shore after it lands in the sea?”

  “No. It is securely anchored to the crag, and hauling it off that will destroy it. Only fragments will reach the sea.”

  “So we’re doomed if we don’t repel the roc,” Hapless concluded.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll take man and cat to the forest floor, but I can’t help the centaur.”

  Feline caught Hapless’s eye. “Play your music. Loud.”

  He nodded. “There may be a way. Clear the center.”

  “I don’t follow,” Nya said, perplexed.

  “Just do it,” Hapless said. “Trust me.”

  They squeezed to the edge of the nest as the roc looked close, the draft of his wings blasting them. As a huge taloned foot reached out to clutch the entire nest, Hapless conjured an organ. It filled the center with its standing keyboard and surrounding pipes, leaving little room for them. He sat at its keyboard and jammed both hands on the keys. “Cover your ears!”

  The talons closed on them as the others put hands on their ears. Then a horrendous sound blasted out from the vibrating pipes, like a sick whale with a very bad hiccup. BLUURBST!!

  The roc rocked back as if struck, which actually was the case. The sound was utterly awful, blown on the winds from the pipes. He tumbled down out of control before spreading his wings and catching the air again. He spiraled back up toward the nest.

  Hapless played another chord. HOOHARGH!! It sounded like nausea deluxe being scratched on a severely broken blackboard.

  The roc shuddered, but this time did not go out of control.

  “Tell Rocky we’ll play a whole symphony if he comes close,” Feline said with a certain satisfaction.

  Nya went dragon again and hissed. The roc cocked his head but did not retreat.


  “Let’s try the positive next,” Zed suggested. “Tell Rocky we’ll eschew the bad sound if he behaves.”

  The dragon hissed again. The roc hesitated.

  “Let’s give Rocky a sample,” Zed said. “Tell him we’ll play him some nice music, so he knows the alternative.”

  The dragon hissed once more. This time the roc responded with a caw.

  The naga reappeared. “He says he’ll listen briefly, before he braves the awfulness again.” She reverted to dragon form.

  “Let’s do it,” Zed said. “This is our chance to be positive.”

  The roc squawked once more. This hardly required translation: “This better be good.”

  The naga form reappeared, complete with harmonica. Feline and Zed found their instruments. “What music?” Nya asked.

  “Rock music, of course,” Zed said.

  They played a rock symphony. To Hapless it sounded rather violent, but it was way better than his organ rendition.

  And the roc was charmed. He squawked approvingly. Music had again soothed the savage breast or beast.

  They had negotiated the crisis. Hapless abolished the organ. The others continued their serenade. When it concluded, the roc did not attack.

  “Best to find out why Rocky was angry,” Zed said. “So we can be sure not to set him off again.”

  Nya went back to dragon form and hissed. The roc responded.

  She became the naga. “He says the dragons are calling him loathsome. He doesn’t like that.”

  “Well, sure,” Zed agreed. “No one likes to be ridiculed. How well we here know that! So it seems he doesn’t want any dragons in his territory.”

  “Yes.”

  “I wonder. Language can be devious. What is one person’s idiom may be another person’s insult. Pidgin lacks nuances. I suspect a misunderstanding.”

  “Dragons do talk,” Nya said.

  “I have a notion,” Zed said. “What is pidgin for ‘loathsome’?”

  Nya turned dragon and made a hissing sound.

  “And what is pidgin for ‘handsome’?”

  She made a similar sound.

  “Can you tell the difference?” Zed asked Feline and Hapless.

  “No,” they said almost together.