“Meanwhile, why don’t we show them the Tapestries,” Mera said.
“Oh, they would not be interested in that,” Tapis demurred.
“Oh, but we would,” Emerald said. “We dragons have heard about your fabulous magic tapestries. Isn’t there one in Castle Roogna?”
“I did make one for the new King Roogna,” Tapis said. “Are you saying that it survived to your time?”
“Oh, it did,” Amara said. “It’s a huge animated map of Xanth showing anything the viewer wants to see. It is truly fabulous, as Emerald says.”
“And you have others?” Tara asked. “I would certainly like to see them.”
So they were treated to an impromptu tour of the tapestries hanging on the mansion walls. One was a still life that showed the mansion itself, from its first construction as a baby hut to its final year as a decrepit haunted house. The history of it played out as they watched, then repeated.
“This is cloth?” Tartan asked, amazed. “It’s like a TV set!”
“Like a what?” the Sorceress asked.
He explained what a TV set was. “Now that’s true magic,” Tapis said, impressed.
Other tapestries showed glades where animals grazed, and the animals moved about from one side to the other, occasionally glancing at the spectators. Or pretty fish in a pond, merrily swimming. Or a growing chestnut tree, producing chests of nuts.
One showed a dragon, who took off and sailed into the sky amidst slowly moving clouds. “Oh, I’m in love!” Emerald said, awed. “What a fabulous scene!”
“Then you must have it, dear.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—”
“Nonsense. I make my tapestries to be seen and enjoyed.” Tapis took it down, rolled it, and put it into a tubular sleeve for safe transport. It was surprisingly compact. In fact now it looked hardly larger than a thimble. She gave it to Emerald, who handled it as if it were a precious stone signified by her name, and put it in a pocket. Tartan was amazed yet again by the permutations of magic. He knew that the tapestry would revert to full size when taken out and unrolled.
“Oh, thank you so much,” the dragon lady said, tears of gratitude flowing. “I will have my father hang it in the Royal Den for all to admire.” Then she sobered. “Once the peace is made between our species.” Tartan knew what a complication that was.
“Of course, dear,” the Sorceress agreed reassuringly.
Then it was time to retire.
“But there are five of you, and we have only two spare guest suites,” Electra said apologetically.
“Dolin and Emerald can share a suite,” Amara said. “They’re royal and they understand each other. I’ll share with Ted and Monica; we also understand each other.”
“Who and who?” Electra asked.
“Tara and I will return to Mundania for the night,” Tartan explained. “Ted and Monica are our hosts.”
“Oh,” Electra said, trying to look as if she understood.
Emerald took Dolin’s arm. “Is it all right if I don’t change, tonight? My dragon form crowds things.”
“I will try to suppress my thoughts,” Dolin agreed.
“Oh, go ahead and have them, as long as you don’t try to act on them.”
“A fair compromise,” he agreed. They entered their room. They truly did know and trust each other. Tartan realized that they actually enjoyed each other’s company, now that the ground rules had been worked out. She might even tease him by stripping and washing while he watched. Maybe they were practicing for the possibility that they would have to marry, for their separate reasons. They both stood to lose too much if they weren’t prepared for that difficult pass.
“Thoughts?” Electra asked.
She was thirteen, well below the Conspiracy threshold. “They’re like brother and sister, teasing each other,” Tara said. “Think of it as like tickling.”
“Oh.” The girl still seemed uncertain.
“We’ll see you in the morning,” Tartan said when the three were in their room.
“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” Tara cautioned them. That broke up Amara and the hosts. They all had a fair notion what Tara and Tartan were doing in their off time. Even Tata, staying close to Amara, was amused. He had a surprising comprehension of human activities.
Then they were back home in Mundania. “What a picklement,” Tartan said once they had dived for the bathroom. “I hope there’s some way out for them, apart from the Ghost Writer mission.”
“I’m glad that time travel or alternate realities in Xanth don’t affect us here.” Tara said. “For once I’m satisfied to have no magic.”
“No magic? Your panties affect me regardless. I’m starting to freak out.”
“Can’t have that,” she said, pretending shock. “I’ll take them off immediately.” She did so.
“That’s better.” They plunged into a ferocious ellipsis.
. . .
That evening, in mussed pajamas and nightie, they discussed it further. “Apart from the several individual problems,” Tara said, “How are we going to get back to present-day Xanth? I can appreciate how we can’t use another Self Storage unit, and why Mera shouldn’t use her talent again; that could mess things up worse.”
“The cure could be worse than the illness,” he agreed.
“Another thing: did you see how Mera froze when Emerald confessed that she’s a lesbian? Monica pointed that out to me. She must be straight laced.”
“She soon recovered her poise. I don’t think she’ll let prejudice interfere with the welfare of the group. After all, she has to get to the present day too.”
“About that,” she said. “Monica mentioned something to me in passing that I took little note of at the time, but now I wonder. There’s a Timeline the Muse of History uses that records all the events of Xanth, or at least all the ones that count. You know, births and deaths and stuff.”
“Deliveries and fade-outs,” he agreed. “How does such a document relate?”
“It’s magic, as are most things in Xanth. Sometimes significant events are inserted retroactively, when hindsight indicates their importance.”
“So?”
“So could maybe a person be inserted in the Timeline, and actually be there?”
“That’s crazy!”
“Xanth is crazy. Nonsense often works there.”
The idea started to take hold. “You’re thinking that our trip back in time appeared in the Timeline, and maybe if we recorded that we returned to the present day, then it would happen?”
“Something like that.”
“Assuming the Timeline is a physical entity that we might approach.”
“Yes. The Sorceress Tapis might know.”
“So we could record ‘Prince Dolin’s party reappears in the present,’ and it would happen.”
“Or go to the Timeline, get on it in the past, and walk to the present.”
“Let’s do it!”
She glanced down at her dishabille. “We just did it. Didn’t you see that ellipsis?”
“That, too,” he agreed, laughing. “You know, Tara, my life changed when I met you, and not just because of Xanth.”
“Mine too.”
“When Xanth is over, I don’t want us to be over.”
“Me neither.”
“Do we want another ellipsis?”
“Just hold me and sleep.”
“Okay.” He did.
In the night she nudged him. “I changed my mind. I want an ellipsis.”
“May I sneak in some kissing too?”
She laughed. “Yes, of course.”
“Okay.”
. . .
In the morning they rejoined their hosts. Tata barked, knowing they were there. “Wow!” Ted said. “Twice in one night!”
“We’re in love.”
Tara blushed. Monica was teasing her too.
“I don’t see what you folk see in it,” Amara said. “It’s just three stupid dots, after all.”
“Ask the Goddess,” Tara suggested.
Then Amara blushed. Evidently Isis was giving her a bellyful.
They rejoined Dolin and Emerald. “I wonder if there’s a magic pill to change romantic orientation,” Dolin mused as Emerald donned her dress.
“If we find one, you can try it first,” Emerald said, smiling.
They had a fine breakfast served by Electra, and dog biscuits for Tata. “Tell me about my twin daughters,” she begged.
“Dawn can tell anything about any living thing,” Tara said.
“Eve can tell anything about any inanimate thing,” Tartan said.
“Dawn knew my nature the moment she touched me,” Dolin said. “So did Eve when she touched the ring.”
They went on to tell whatever else they knew about the twin Sorceresses. Electra was rapt. So, surprisingly, was Emerald. And Tata. “It’s too bad that Prince Dolin can’t share a household with Dawn and Eve,” she said. “They’re all so great.”
“Well, if I find a princess to marry, then I can share a reality with them,” Dolin said. “I’d like that. They are fine girls.”
“You know you can if you have to,” Emerald said.
He shook his head. “I wish I could help you some other way.”
“If it should come to that, for both of us, I am thinking it might not be too bad. If I should have to be with a man, you’re the one I would want.”
“But I would not want to repel you. If we married, we would be required to summon the stork.”
“Perhaps I could shut my eyes, clench my teeth, and hold my breath long enough.”
Princess Mera looked as if she wanted to say something, but stifled it.
“Very well,” the Sorceress said as they finished the meal. “We all have done a fine job of avoiding the salient question, but now it is time. The five of you need to return to your time, and it seems that Mera needs to go there too, but she hesitates to use her talent for reasons we have clarified. Has anyone come up with an idea, however far out it may seem?”
Tartan looked at Tara. Tapis caught the look. “You have a suggestion, Tara?”
“I—it’s crazy, but—is there a Timeline?”
“There is,” Tapis said. “Does it relate?”
“Could we maybe step on it and walk back to our future?”
The Sorceress considered. “I never thought of that.” She glanced at Mera. “Do you suppose that could work?”
“It might,” Mera said. “It would be less risky than using my talent, because we could stay in this reality instead of crossing to a new one.”
“That was my thought,” Tapis said. “But there is a problem.”
“There’s always a problem,” Mera agreed.
“The Timeline is in a largely inaccessible place, by no coincidence, because the Muse of History does not want anyone stumbling on it by accident and interfering with it. It would be difficult to reach unscathed.”
“Dragons?” Dolin asked. “Emerald could help us there.” He smiled. “That might be less stressful for her than marrying me.”
“He thinks he’s joking,” Emerald said. But she was smiling. They were teasing each other.
“Perhaps,” Tapis said. “I don’t know. Just that it is designed to be hard to reach. You may find the route too awkward or hazardous to manage.”
“Yet if it represents a feasible solution for us,” Dolin said, “then perhaps the effort would be worthwhile.”
“Shall we vote?” Amara asked brightly.
“Why not,” Dolin said, laughing.
They took a vote, all of them, because any change in realities would affect them all. Even Tata participated, evidently having an interest. It was eight to one, with only Mera voting no.
“Why?” Emerald asked her.
“Oh, I think it’s the best course. I don’t want to use my talent again. But I have a nervous feeling about it, as if there is something we are missing. So it’s more a vote of caution rather than negation. I will certainly go along with the majority.”
“Your nervousness makes me nervous too,” Emerald said. “But I see no better alternative.”
“Then it is decided,” the Sorceress said briskly. “I regret losing you, Mera, so soon after losing Taplin, but it is clear that you must accompany them back to the future.” She glanced at Electra. “What of you, dear? In one future you become a princess, mother of Sorceresses. I doubt you can go there now, however, since you are already there, and in the other future your prince marries Taplin.”
“I’ll stay here with you, Sorceress,” Electra said. “You have been like a mother to me, and I am happy here. You need someone to do the chores.”
“And you have been like a daughter to me,” Tapis said. “I was hoping you would say that, for I dislike being alone. But with Mera gone, there may be too many chores for you.”
“I’ll manage,” Electra promised bravely.
“I remember how sad you were when Father Merlin left,” Mera said.
“He didn’t die?” Tara asked.
“No,” Tapis said sadly. “He was called to Mundania where they needed him. We were married for twenty years, and three children were delivered, before he received the call eleven years ago. I hated to see him go, but there was a young king Arthur who truly needed his assistance. I understand he is doing well there. They are severely short of magic in Mundania.”
“Three children?” Tartan asked. “The Princesses Taplin and Mera we know of, but who is the third?”
“Our first child, Jonathan, was delivered a year before Taplin.”
“My big brother,” Mera said. “We called him the Zombie Master, because of his talent for animating zombies. He fell in love with a pretty girl, Millie the Maid, and zombied himself when he lost her to an evil transformation. We don’t like to speak of that.”
“But they survived in our time,” Amara said. “She was a lovely ghost for something like eight hundred years, but then was restored, and he recovered and married her. They had a long and happy life at Castle Zombie before they retired.”
“I’m exceedingly gratified to learn that,” Tapis said. She took a breath. “Now you must prepare for your excursion to the Timeline.”
“This seems to be the right thing,” Dolin said. “But how do we get there?”
Tata barked, startling them all. His bark was still worse than his byte.
“Tata can find the way,” Amara said. “He can sniff out any path.”
“That is a talented dog,” Emerald said.
“Yes. There’s something about him,” Amara agreed. “He is more than he appears.”
“Then it seems to be decided,” Dolin said. “We shall search out this Timeline.”
Tartan was almost sorry to depart, because the Sorceress was a good host and a fine person. But of course they could not dwell in the past. They had a mission to accomplish in their own time.
Chapter 9
Timeline
They organized as a party of six plus a dogfish and bid regretful farewell to Tapis and Electra. They wore backpacks with supplies for the trip, packed by Electra. Tartan’s pack contained sandwiches, chocolate, and a folded paddle. What was that for?
“I am only sorry that Electra will not get to be a princess,” Mera said as they followed Tata into the jungle. “She is a very nice girl.”
“Maybe there will be something just as nice for her here,” Emerald said. “Being royal is not always a pleasure.”
“Yes!” Mera agreed fervently. She seemed to have forgotten her wariness about the dragon princess’s orientation. The two were the same age physically, and both were outstandin
gly pretty. Tartan was glad to see them getting along.
Tata paused where the path split into several branches. He sniffed each one carefully. “If I understand his reaction, and I think I do,” Amara said, “he is finding that all the paths lead to the Timeline, but some are more challenging than others. He is trying to find the fastest and safest one.”
“Your talent relates?” Dolin asked.
“Yes. I know that the Timeline will be at the end of any path we choose by the time we get there. Tata must have reason for being careful.”
The dogfish finally settled on a path and swam forward through the air. They followed in single file: Amara, Emerald, Mera, Dolin, Tara, and Tartan.
“Woof!”
They halted in line. “A nest of nickelpedes,” Amara announced.
“I packed some repellant,” Mera said. She dug out a small bag, opened it, and blew a whiff of dust into the air.
There was a desperate scrambling as the nickelpedes fled. The powder was effective.
They came to the shore. “I forgot,” Ted told Tartan. “The Sorceress Tapis lives on the Isle of View. We have to get to the mainland.”
“The Isle of View?” Tartan repeated aloud.
“I love you too,” Tara replied. “What brought that on?”
“Not the sentiment,” he said “The island.”
“The what?” Tara asked. Then: “Oh, Monica just told me. When you pronounce it, it sounds like I Love You.”
“It’s a very affectionate island,” Emerald agreed. “As is the Kiss Mee River farther to the east. We dragons fly over both of them all the time.”
There was a small rowboat just big enough for six people and a dog. They got in and sat on the benches. Now Tartan’s paddle became functional. Electra had of course known. Dolin had another.
They pushed off into the water. Dolin sat near the front and stroked on the left, while Tartan sat near the back and stroked on the right. The craft moved smartly forward.
For all of ten strokes. Then a big toothy serpentine head rose out of the water before them. “Oops, a sea monster,” Amara said.
A big green eye eyed them. Then the jaw gaped and the head moved down toward the boat. The thing was big enough to take up a person in a single bite.
Ghost Writer in the Sky Page 16
